Yutaka read this, but this time his eyebrows immediately lowered and he looked skeptical as he scrawled.
[Not possible. Won't it catch on a tree or something for sure? Somewhere in the middle.]
Shinji grinned.
Yutaka had good reason to think it impossible. The distance they'd traveled to get here had been covered with trees both big and small. If they ran the string avoiding the school's sector, G-7, then pulled it tight after, the string would catch those many trees and accomplish nothing but to draw a giant curve across the mountainside, like a bizarre piece of outdoor modern art.
This installation is quite large, but becomes imperceptible from five meters away, and it is therefore impossible to see the entire sculpture. This portrays the delicate balance in the relationship between man and nature, and. . .
And the dense woods continued into area G-7 itself, all the way up to the school grounds. Running the string across would be impossible, as long as Shinji couldn't cut down each and every tree, or unless he could turn into a hundred-foot-tall giant. (Now that he thought about it, he remembered an old special-effects monster movie his uncle had showed him on videotape—one where a superhero trampled a city as he fought to save the world from a kaiju. They don't make many of those movies anymore.) With such things so obviously beyond the realm of possibility, it was no wonder that Yutaka had asked how Shinji would throw the rope across (though that too, of course, was impossible).
In a flourish, Shinji spread his arms wide (since he was on his stomach, the gesture wasn't particularly effective). Then he wrote.
[How about we launch some advertising balloons.]
Yutaka read the note and knitted his brows again, and Shinji waved him to come down from the rock. After they had climbed down and sat at the base of the rock, Shinji reached inside his daypack. He pulled out its contents and lined them up on the ground.
There were half a dozen bug-spray-sized canisters, several hundred-meter rolls of kite string (he'd found the above inside the farm co-op), electrical tape, and a box of black garbage bags.
Shinji picked up one of the canisters and displayed it to Yutaka. It was blue, with bold red letters that read voice changer. (Just below was the slogan, "You'll be the life of the party!" Wow, really.) Below all that was a drawing of a cartoon duck Shinji recognized as a knock-off of a Walt Disney character. An opening, like the mouthpiece of a flute, jutted out from the canister's top.
[ To tell you the truth,] Shinji wrote, [I only thought of this plan when I remembered seeing these in the house where I found the PowerBook. You know what this is, right?]
Before Shinji took the pulley, they had gone to the house next door and retrieved the canisters. At first, Shinji wondered why the person living there had so many of the things. The files left on the PowerBook's hard drive offered a clue. Judging from their names, which included "5th Grade Science" and "3rd Term Report Card Incomplete," the computer's owner must have been an elementary school teacher—probably from that school.
Yutaka covered his nose and opened his mouth. Shinji nodded.
[Right. It makes you sound like that duck. Anyway, it's filled with helium. And these were pulled from the market as defective. They've got a shitload of gas in them.]
Yutaka still seemed unconvinced. Thinking a live demonstration would be the fastest way to explain, he tore open the pack of garbage bags and took one out. He opened the bag, put the canister's nozzle (actually a mouthpiece) inside, and sealed it with electrical tape. Then he depressed the canister's actuator and the garbage bag began to quickly expand.
As he held the button down, Shinji thought, This would be funnier with a condom. Though I guess it would never get quite big enough. What? Do I have any on me? Well sure, this is a school trip, after all. Anything can happen, right? You want to know if I'm still carrying them even after I got rid of my extra clothes and everything else? Well, yeah, I am. You never know, they still might come in handy.
When the bag was just about full, Shinji grabbed it right above the canister, twisted it, and taped it closed. He took out a roll of string and wound it over the tape, then removed the canister. Just in case, he folded over the end of the bag and taped it again.
Then he let go.
The garbage bag floated upward. It rose until the string was taut, and even seemed to nearly lift up the spool, but stopped at eye height.
Out loud, Shinji said, "See?"
Yutaka was bobbing his head. He had probably gotten the idea while Shinji was still working.
Shinji unwound the string from a second spool and tied the string to the one hanging down from the balloon. Just to be sure, he secured it with tape. He then took each string in both of his hands and moved the balloon as if it were walking on two legs. Then he pointed to a nearby tree. He moved the strings again. Here were his giant's legs—though these were too frail to crush a city and, at the moment, stood no taller than he.
Yutaka gave two deep nods. He seemed to have completely understood it now. Then he mouthed words without voicing them. Shinji thought he said, "You rock, Shinji," but it could also have been, "You suck, Shinji." Whatever, it didn't matter.
Shinji grabbed the notepad and wrote, [ We'll make one or two more balloons and attach them too. But I don't know how far up they can take the thread. And wind will also be trouble. But let's give it a shot]
Yutaka read the note and nodded.
Shinji looked up. Even in the moonlight, the black bags would never be noticed by Sakamochi's men. Right now, the wind was calm, though Shinji didn't know how it would be higher up.
Then he said, "Let's hurry."
Shinji signaled for Yutaka to hold onto the first balloon, and then he pulled out another garbage bag.
20 STUDENTS REMAIN.
Just past ten o'clock, Shuya heard Kawada get up.
Shuya had kept watch over Noriko as she slept on the clinic bed. Now he fumbled through the near pitch darkness and found his way to the adjacent waiting room.
Kawada looked at him, said, "I'll make some coffee," and strode down the hall. Apparently, he had much better night vision.
Shuya returned to Noriko's bed, where he found she had removed her blanket and was sitting herself up.
"You should rest a little longer," he said.
"Yeah . .She nodded. Then, hesitantly, she added, "Could you ask Kawada, if he's boiling water, to make some extra for me? Just a cup will do."
Within the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, Noriko sat on the edge of the bed with her hands beside her legs. Her head was pointed a little down and to the side.
"Sure," Shuya said. "But why?"
Noriko seemed to hold back, but then said, "Well, I was sweating so much that I want to wipe myself clean. Maybe it's too indulgent."
"Oh, no." Shuya quickly nodded. "Okay, I'll go tell him."
He left the room.
Kawada was boiling water in the darkness of the kitchen. The flaming charcoals beneath the pot and the tip of Kawada's cigarette glowed red. They resembled some rare species of firefly—a swarm, and a lone stray.
When Shuya said his name, Kawada turned, and the burning tip of his cigarette moved, its afterimage a single fat line in Shuya's vision that quickly faded.
"Noriko was wondering if you could boil some extra water. She says just a cup will be enough—"
Kawada interrupted him with a laugh. The cigarette parted from his mouth, and in the dim moonlight from the window, Shuya could see him smile.
"Sure," Kawada said. "A cup or a washbasin, it doesn't matter to me."
He used a bowl to scoop out water from a bucket on the floor and added it to the pot. He repeated this process five more times. The low flames of the charcoal kept the water inside the pot hot, and Shuya felt the wisp of steam on his skin.
After he'd finished, Kawada said, "She's a girl."
Not as obtuse as Shuya was, Kawada had apparently perceived why Noriko wanted hot water.
When Shuya didn't say anything, Kaw
ada continued, atypically forthcoming, "She wants to be pretty because you're here."
Kawada exhaled smoke.
After a pause, Shuya said, "Can I help you with anything?"
"No." Kawada seemed to shake his head.
Squinting, Shuya saw three cups on the kitchen table, along with a filter-lined drip coffee brewer. Kawada had also readied a tea bag, probably for Noriko.
"Hey," Kawada said.
Shuya lifted his eyebrows. "It's not like you to talk so much. What gives?"
Kawada said, "I understand how you feel about Yoshitoki, but don't neglect Noriko's feelings."
Shuya again remained silent for a moment, then spoke. Though he himself didn't really know why, a hint of irritation mixed into his tone. "Yeah, I know."
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Shuya shrugged. "No."
"So what's the problem then?" Kawada continued to look out the window as he smoked. "It's not so bad to be loved."
Shuya shrugged again, then asked, "Don't you have anyone special?"
The cigarette's tip glowed bright red. Kawada didn't say anything. The smoke drifted through the darkness.
"What, is it a secret?"
"No—" Kawada started to say, but then he suddenly grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it into the bucket. He whispered, "Get down, Nanahara," and ducked.
Shuya hurriedly obeyed. Are we being attacked? His muscles tensed.
"Bring Noriko here," Kawada said. "And don't make a sound." But Shuya was already on his way to the examination room.
Noriko was still staring at nothing, sitting on the edge of the bed. Shuya motioned her to get on the ground. Noriko immediately understood. Holding her breath, she got down from the bed. He gave her his hand, and half supporting her, he led her to the kitchen. On the way, he looked over his shoulder to the entrance but saw nothing outside the frosted glass door.
Kawada had already gathered their three daypacks, each restocked with fresh water and other supplies. Shotgun in hand, he was crouched beside the back door.
Shuya whispered, "What is it?"
Kawada held up his left hand to silence him. Shuya didn't say another word.
"Someone's outside. If he comes in, we'll go out the other way."
All Shuya could see was the charcoal brightly burning beneath the pot. But with the sink blocking it, Shuya didn't think the fire would be visible from the outside.
Finally, Shuya heard a rattling sound. It came from the entrance. Kawada had jammed the door shut with a broom, and it wouldn't open. But whoever was outside would have seen the broken glass and realized someone had gone inside—and could still be around.
Another rattle came, but let up quickly. The intruder seemed to have given up.
"Fuck," Kawada muttered. "It's going to be a pain in the ass if they try to burn us out."
They held their breaths and waited but heard nothing. But Kawada gestured them to the front of the building. His ears must have picked up some slight sound.
The three of them practically crawled their way down the hall.
As they made their way, Kawada, who was taking up the rear, reached forward to Shuya, who was in the lead, and stopped him. Shuya looked over his shoulder and found Kawada's face in the darkness.
"They're moving around front again." Kawada waved back toward the kitchen. "We'll go out the back."
They went along the floor back to the kitchen.
Just before they reached the room. Kawada stopped again.
"Damn," Kawada growled. "But why?"
Apparently, the person outside was returning to the back door.
The silence went on. Kawada held his shotgun at the ready, and Shuya, keeping Noriko between them, gripped Kaori Minami's SIG-Sauer. (He'd returned the Smith & Wesson to Kawada. They'd decided Shuya was better off with the one that held more bullets.)
But the silence was shattered when a voice called out from outside the kitchen window.
"It's Sugimura." Then, "I don't want to fight. Please answer me, you three. Who are you?"
Shuya recognized the voice. It really was Hiroki Sugimura (Boys #11), who was, along with Shinji Mimura, one of the few boys Shuya could trust.
Shuya let out his breath. "What the hell? How ..."
Shuya had thought meeting up with Hiroki was too impossible to
even wish for. He exchanged a glance with Noriko, who also seemed relieved.
He immediately went to stand, but Kawada restrained him.
"What?"
"Shh. Don't raise your voice."
Shuya studied Kawada's serious expression, then responded with an exaggerated shrug and a smile. "Don't worry. I can vouch for him. We can trust him."
But Kawada shook his head and said, "How did he know there are three of us?"
That question hadn't occurred to Shuya. As he watched Kawada, he thought it over.
He had no idea, but now that he knew Hiroki was near, he didn't care. He just wanted to see Hiroki's face.
Shuya offered, "Maybe he saw us coming inside from far away. But he didn't see who we were."
"Then why would he have waited until now to come?"
Shuya thought a little longer. "It must have just taken him a while to get up the nerve to find out who we were. In any case, he's Sugimura. We can trust him. Don't worry."
Kawada looked like he was about to say something else, but Shuya ignored him and turned toward the window and shouted, "Sugimura, it's me, Nanahara. I'm with Shogo Kawada and Noriko Nakagawa."
"Nanahara." Hiroki's voice came back relieved. "Let me in. How can I get in?"
Before Shuya could respond, Kawada said, "This is Kawada. Go to the front door. Put both hands behind your head and don't move. Understood?"
His tone critical, Shuya started to say, "Kawada—" but Hiroki immediately responded, "Understood," and the boy's silhouette crossed the kitchen window.
Kawada was the first to stand and move toward the front. Shuya helped Noriko follow.
Kawada ducked inside the front door and glanced through the broken part of the glass. Then he held his shotgun ready as he swiftly released the broom and slid open the door.
Hiroki Sugimura stood there with his hands behind his head. He was slightly taller than Kawada and more slender. His hair was wavy, like Shuya's, and his bangs went halfway to his eyes. Resting at his feet were his daypack, and, for some reason, a one-and-a-half-meter-long pole.
It was really him. Shuya shook his head in disbelief. Hiroki saw this and grinned.
"I'm going to frisk you. Stay still."
Shuya started to protest, saying, "Kawada, come on . . ."
But Kawada paid no attention. He advanced with his shotgun still at the ready and circled behind Hiroki. He first checked the boy's hands, then used his free hand to pat down his uniform jacket.
Kawada's hands stopped at one of the pockets.
"What's this?"
Keeping his hands behind his head, Hiroki said, "You can take it out. Just give it back, please."
Kawada pulled out the object, the shape and size of a thick notepad, but made of plastic or maybe steel. Shuya noticed the moonlight catch the smoothed surface on one side.
Kawada fiddled with it for a while, then said, "Aha." Still holding the object, Kawada moved his body, and the moonlight reflected off the flat panel again. He nodded and returned the object to Hiroki's pocket. Then he thoroughly searched Hiroki's slacks all the way down to his pant cuffs. When he had finished, he looked through the daypack. Finally, he said, "Okay. Sorry about that. You can lower your hands."
Hiroki released his fingers, then picked up his daypack and stick, which he seemed to be carrying as a weapon.
"Sugimura," Shuya said, grinning. "Come inside. We've got coffee, if you'll have some."
Hiroki nodded vaguely and went with them inside. Kawada looked out the door, then closed it.
Hiroki had stopped in the entryway. Kawada leaned against a shoe rack, filled with house slippers, beside Hiroki an
d stared at the boy. He'd lowered the Remington, but Shuya noticed his finger was still on the trigger and felt a little annoyed. But he decided not to let it bother him for now.
Hiroki looked at Shuya and Noriko, then threw a glance at Kawada. Shuya realized Hiroki was worried about him—not to mention Noriko— being with Kawada.
Kawada said what they were thinking. "Nanahara, I think Sugimura wants to ask you if you're safe around me."
Hiroki made a weak smile and turned to Kawada and said, "That's not it. You're just an odd combination, that's all." Still smiling, he added, "If you were the kind of guy who would turn on him, Nanahara wouldn't be with you. I know he can be a dope sometimes, but he's not that dumb."
Kawada grinned. His finger remained on the trigger, but at least the two boys had made it through their introductions.
Shuya grinned and said, "That's not a very nice thing to say, Sugimura."
Then Noriko spoke. "Come in. Please. It's not our house, so I can't really apologize for the mess."
Hiroki gave her a broad grin, but he didn't move from the entryway.
Shuya, his left arm supporting Noriko, gestured into the house with his right. "Come on in. We have to leave here soon, but we still have a little time. We'll throw you a welcome party."
But Hiroki still didn't move. Shuya realized he had something important he'd forgotten to tell his friend. Instead, he'd talked about a party of all things. Maybe that's what had stunned the boy.
"Sugimura, we can escape. Kawada's helping us."
Hiroki's eyes widened a little. "Really?"
Shuya nodded.
But Hiroki only looked down. Then, a few moments later, he raised his head. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I have something I need to do."
Shuya knit his brows. "What? Well, why don't you come in and we can—"
Instead of answering, Hiroki said, "Have you three been together the whole time?"
Shuya took a moment to think, then shook his head. "No. Noriko and I were together. Then ..."
He remembered the morning's events. He hadn't thought of it in a while, but now the image of Tatsumichi Oki's split-open head formed in the back of his mind, and a chill ran down his spine.
Battle Royale (Remastered) Page 33