Battle Royale (Remastered)

by Koushun Takami, Nathan Collins

  Noriko's eyes widened as she looked at Shuya. Immediately, she grinned and said, "No way!"

  Shuya blushed. "Am not. What are you talking about?"

  Kawada shrugged. He raised his eyebrows and, with mock surprise, said to her, "Oh, he's saying he trusts you. Because he loves you."

  Shuya opened his mouth, but was caught speechless. Kawada started to laugh. He cracked up. Then Shuya, who was still trying to think of a response, began to laugh with him. Noriko smiled too.

  It was a brief but blissful moment. This was the kind of conversation and laughter longtime friends might share after school in their favorite cafe—even if he couldn't shake the feeling that it was a reunion after the funeral of a mutual friend.

  With the laughter still in his expression, Kawada looked down at his watch, then went out to check for Hiroki Sugimura's signal.

  Noriko gave Shuya the hint of a smile and said, "Kawada's always joking."

  Shuya smiled back. "Yeah, but. . ."

  He looked up.

  Maybe I was jealous.

  He faced Noriko again. He was about to tell her—to pass it off as a joke—"Maybe I was jealous." And then she'd laugh and say, "No way!" again.

  But Kawada was back outside the shelter. His stubbled face was wet from the rain.

  "I saw smoke," he said and quickly turned around again.

  Shuya scrambled to his feet. He lent Noriko his uninjured arm and helped her stand. The two of them joined Kawada where he stood.

  The rain had eased up, enough so that Shuya could see the smoke drifting in the sky. He followed Kawada's eyes, and there, on the opposite side of the northern mountain, he saw two columns of white smoke.

  Without thinking, Shuya let out a quiet version of a rock-and-roll shout. "Right on!"

  His and Noriko's eyes met. Grinning as much as he was, she said, "Hiroki's all right."

  Facing the smoke, Kawada took the birdcall from his pocket and chirped it. The cheerful sing-song call took to the air and spread into the rain that enveloped the island. He kept an eye on his watch and stopped sounding the call after precisely fifteen seconds.

  Then he looked at Shuya and Noriko and said, "Let's wait here a while longer. I don't think he'll be able to hear this until he's really close. This'll take time."

  They got back under the roof of their shelter.

  Noriko said, "He must have found Kayoko."

  Shuya was about to nod, but he saw Kawada purse his lips and stopped. Noriko lost her smile.

  Shuya said, "Kawada ..."

  Kawada looked up and shook his head. "It's nothing. I just think there are other possibilities."

  "Huh? But..." Shuya turned over his right palm and gestured with it. "Hiroki's not the kind of guy who gives up."

  Kawada nodded. "Maybe so." He paused, then looked away from them. "But Kayoko might have been dead when he found her."

  Shuya frowned. Kawada was right, of course. Kayoko had at least lived until noon, but there had been all that gunfire—and then those two single shots not long ago. After combing the island for her for two days straight, he could have found her dead.

  "Or," Kawada continued, "everything could have gone differently."

  Noriko asked, "What do you mean?"

  Kawada answered as he took the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Kayoko might not have trusted him."

  Shuya and Noriko both fell silent.

  Lighting a cigarette, Kawada continued, "Anyway, all we can do is pray he reaches us here. I just don't know if he'll be with Kayoko or not."

  Kawada didn't need to tell Shuya to pray,- he already was—for Hiroki to come back with Kayoko Kotohiki.

  Then we'd be five. Five of us can escape.

  Only five.

  Then Shuya remembered that Mizuho Inada was still alive—or at least she had been alive at noon.

  "Kawada," he said.

  Kawada looked at Shuya without turning his head.

  "Inada is still alive," Shuya said. "Do you think we can contact her somehow?"

  Kawada shrugged. "I know I'm repeating myself, but you shouldn't be too trusting of others in this game. Honestly, I don't even trust Kayoko—my apologies to Hiroki."

  Shuya bit his lip. "Yeah, but—"

  "If circumstances allow, we can think up a way to reach Inada." He blew out smoke. "But don't forget, there's no guarantee we'll live long enough to try it."

  Kawada had said that he had a way out—but only at the very end, when everyone else was dead. That meant they would have to battle Kiriyama one more time—or possibly Mitsuko Souma. Shuya wasn't sure about her, but he knew there'd be no avoiding Kiriyama—that boy wouldn't die so easily. And Shuya's three might not all survive.

  Kawada took another drag from his dwindling cigarette and said, "I'm going to ask you again, Nanahara."

  He exhaled a puff of smoke and watched Shuya's eyes as he continued. "Even if we manage to meet up with Hiroki, we'll have to fight Kiriyama again, or maybe Souma. Are you prepared to be merciless?"

  That's how it was going to be. Any attempt to make contact with Mizuho Inada would have to come after they'd killed Kiriyama and Mitsuko. No matter what the circumstances were, Shuya didn't like how used he'd become to the thought of killing his classmates.

  But he nodded and said, "I am."

  4 STUDENTS REMAIN.

  Kawada sounded the birdcall. This was the third time. The rain was letting up> drops fell less frequently from the edge of the canopy. It was already past five o'clock.

  Shuya had heard Kawada's birdcall four times before he'd been able to rejoin him and Noriko—but that was only because he already had a general idea of where they'd be. Without the same clue, Hiroki Sugimura might take longer to find them.

  When Kawada came back into the shelter, he put another Wild Seven between his lips and lit it.

  He blew out a single puff of smoke. Out of the blue he asked, "Where do you want to go?"

  Shuya looked past Noriko at Kawada. Kawada turned his head to him.

  "I didn't think to mention this before," Kawada said, "but I know a guy. When we first get off this island, we'll hide out at his place."

  "A guy?" Shuya asked.

  Kawada nodded. "He's a friend of my dad's."

  He continued, "He'll get us out of the country. I'm sure you won't object. If we stay in the country, we'll be caught sooner or later. We'll be hunted down and killed like rats."

  With some surprise, Noriko said, "We can really do that—escape the country?"

  Shuya asked, "Who is this guy, this friend of your father's?"

  Kawada put his hand to the cigarette and looked thoughtfully at his two companions, but not for long. He took the Wild Seven from his mouth and said, "I think it's best if I don't tell you that."

  He added, "If we get split up while we're on the run, and the government catches you two, it would be bad if you talked. Now hold on, I'm not saying I don't trust you. But once they start torturing you, it's only a matter of time before you spill. So I'll have to lead you to him myself."

  Shuya thought about it a moment, then nodded. It seemed like the right call to him.

  "But. . . let's see," Kawada said. He returned the cigarette to his lips and pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket.

  It was one of those sheets on which they'd all had to write, We will kill each other. Kawada tore it in half and began writing something in pencil on both the pieces. He neatly folded them into two small pieces and gave one each to Shuya and Noriko.

  Shuya asked, "What's this for?" and started to open his up, but Kawada stopped him.

  "You don't need to look at that yet. It's just a way we can reach each other if we get split up. There's a time and a place. Every day, go to that place at that time. I'll do what I can to make it there."

  Noriko asked, "Can't we read it now?"

  "Nope," Kawada said. "It's only for if we get split up. Don't look at it until then. You see, your notes are different. It's best if neither of you knows what I wrote fo
r the other—just in case one of you gets caught."

  Shuya and Noriko looked at each other, then back to Kawada.

  "I'm not leaving Noriko's side," Shuya said. "No matter what."

  "I know that," Kawada said with a pained smile. "But it happened when Kiriyama attacked us. We can't be sure it won't happen again, right?"

  Shuya pressed his lips together and looked at Kawada—but in the end, he nodded, then sent Noriko a glance and put the note in his pocket. Noriko did the same.

  Kawada was right. Anything could happen. Just escaping the island in the first place was going to be incredibly difficult.

  But then, Shuya thought, shouldn't Noriko and I come up with our own meeting place—without telling Kawada? Then again, if he gets captured, Noriko and I will have nowhere to turn.

  His thoughts were interrupted when Kawada said, "So . . . where do you want to go?"

  Shuya had forgotten the question. He folded his arms and took his time thinking about where he'd want to go once they'd fled the country.

  Then he said, "I suppose America, after all. The birthplace of rock. I've always wanted to go there at least once."

  I just never thought I'd be escaping to there.

  "Uh-huh." Kawada nodded. "And you, Noriko?"

  "I don't really have anywhere in mind, but..."

  She glanced at Shuya, who nodded and offered, "Let's go together. Right?"

  Her eyes went wide. She made the most modest of smiles and nodded. "Yes, of course—if it's all right with you."

  Kawada grinned. He took another drag on his cigarette and asked, "What are you going to do in America?"

  Shuya thought a little more, then answered with a wry smile. "I'll try my hand at busking with a guitar to start, and save up a little money."

  Kawada chuckled. "You should become a rocker. You've got the talent. I hear immigrants and refugees aren't at too much of a disadvantage in America."

  Shuya sighed and made a pained expression. "I'm nothing special.

  I don't have what it takes to be a pro."

  Kawada shook his head and offered him a reassuring smile. "Don't be so sure about that." Then to Noriko, he asked, "What about you? Is there anything you want to do?"

  She pursed her lips tightly, then said, "I've been thinking about becoming a teacher."

  She'd never mentioned this before, so Shuya was taken by surprise. "Really?" he asked.

  She nodded to him, and he asked, "You wanted to be a teacher in this lousy country?"

  She looked a little hurt. "There are good teachers here too." Her eyes dropped. "I thought Mr. Hayashida was a good teacher."

  It had been a little while since Shuya had last thought of their teacher's dead body and his caved-in head. He died for us. The "Dragonfly" died for us.

  "Yeah, he was," Shuya agreed.

  "Well," Kawada said, "it might be tougher for a refugee to become a teacher. But you might be able to do research in some university. Ironically enough, the rest of the world is very interested in our country. So in a way, you'd be able to do some sort of teaching."

  Gazing ahead with his face in profile to the two, he tossed his cigarette butt into a puddle at his feet. He lit up a fresh one and replaced it, then continued, "Go for it, both of you. Be what you want to be. Follow your hearts and give it your all."

  Shuya liked the sound of that. Follow my heart. Give it my all. He was reminded of his friend Shinji Mimura—he was dead now—who would sometimes say things like this, things that hit upon a truth of the way the world should be.

  He liked the sound of it. But then another thought took over. Something's missing in the way Kawada's talking.

  He quickly realized what it was.

  Panic edged into his voice as he asked, "What about you? What are you going to do?"

  Kawada shrugged. "I told you already. I owe this country payback. Actually, no. It owes me, and I'm going to collect—whatever it takes. I can't go with you."

  With sorrow, Noriko said, "No ..."

  But Shuya's thoughts went in a different direction. He clenched his teeth.

  "If you're taking action," he said, "let me help."

  Kawada peered into his face for a moment, but then he dropped his gaze and shook his head with a dismissive snort. "Don't be stupid."

  "Why not?" Shuya pressed harder. "I'd like to get back at this shithole of a country too."

  "He's right," Noriko added, a little to Shuya's surprise. She looked at Kawada and continued, "We'll do it together. All of us."

  Kawada looked from one of them to the other, then lifted his shoulders and lowered them with a deep sigh.

  He lifted his head and said, "Listen. I think I told you this before. This country may be a shithole, but it's a well-made one. Taking it down won't be easy. Hell, right now, it's likely impossible. But I. . ."

  He craned his neck to look out from the canopy. The rain was letting up, and the sky was white. He looked back to Shuya and Noriko.

  "I'll get in at least one good slash. I'll have my revenge. Even if it's only for my own satisfaction, that's not so bad."

  He paused, then repeated, "That's not so bad."

  Shuya started to say, "But—"

  But Kawada held up his hand and said, "I haven't finished talking." Shuya went quiet, and he continued.

  "I'm telling you that you will die if you come with me. And you just now told Noriko you'd go together." He looked at Noriko and then back at Shuya. "That means you still have her. Protect her, Nanahara. And if it ever looks like she's in danger, fight—whether you're up against a burglar, the Republic of Greater-fucking-East Asia, or a spaceman."

  Then he looked at Noriko. Tenderly he said, "The same goes for you. You still have Nanahara. Protect him, Noriko. Pointless deaths are for fools."

  He faced Shuya again, his voice firm now. "Do you understand? I don't have anything anymore. What I'm going to do I will do for me. You two are different."

  Kawada glanced at his watch, then tossed his cigarette into the puddle, stood, and walked out from the shelter. The chirp chirp of the birdcall rang out.

  As Shuya listened to the call, he remembered a rock song from the continent, "Yi Wu Suo You," which meant, "I Have Nothing." Can you love someone who has nothing, the lyrics asked.

  But what did Kawada mean when he said he had nothing?

  Exactly fifteen seconds later, the birdcall stopped, and Kawada came back into the shelter and sat down.

  Noriko asked him, softly, "Don't you have someone you care about?"

  Shuya had been about to ask the same thing.

  Kawada's eyes widened a little. He gave them a smile, but something seemed sad about it.

  "I wasn't going to tell you, but. . ." he said with a sigh. "Maybe that's what I want to do."

  He reached into his back pants pocket, produced his wallet, and took out a worn photograph.

  Noriko took the picture and held it so that she and Shuya could both see.

  It was a photo of Kawada from the chest up. He wore a school uniform and had long hair like Shuya's, and he was smiling. It was a bashful, happy smile hard to imagine on the Kawada they knew. And a girl in a sailor fuku stood at his left. Her jet-black hair was gathered over her right shoulder. She seemed strong willed and had a very charming smile. They seemed to be on a major street—behind them were a row of streetside trees (gingkoes, maybe), a billboard for a brand of whiskey, and a yellow car.

  "She's pretty," Noriko said with admiration.

  Kawada scratched the tip of his nose. "Really? I don't think she's what you'd call conventionally beautiful. But I always thought she was."

  Noriko shook her head. "Well, I think she is beautiful. She seems so mature. Is she your age?"

  Kawada smiled, and it was a little like that bashful smile from the picture. "Yeah. And thanks."

  Shuya looked at the two happy, side-by-side faces and thought, What was that all about before? You do have something.

  But Shuya was failing to remember a critical pi
ece of information.

  "So is she in Kobe?" he asked.

  Kawada grimaced and shook his head.

  Then he said, "Did you forget, Nanahara? I've been in this fucking game once before. And I won."

  Now Shuya made the connection. Noriko must have too, because her face went stiff.

  Kawada continued, "She was in my class. I wasn't able to save her. Keiko."

  They fell silent. Shuya finally felt he understood Kawada's anger and how deep it ran.

  "You should see now," Kawada said, "that I don't have anything left. And they're going to pay for what they took from me—for killing Keiko."

  Kawada put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it. Smoke drifted by.

  After a moment, Shuya said, "So her name was Keiko."

  "Yeah." Kawada nodded several times. "It means 'joyful child.'"

  Shuya noted, in the back of his mind, that her name would be written with one of the same kanji as Yoshitoki's.

  "Were you ..." Noriko asked gently, "with her? Until the end?"

  Kawada smoked in silence for a while, then said, "That's a painful question."

  But he went on. "Her family name was Onuki. That time, girls' number seventeen was the first to leave. Well, the details aren't important. What matters was that her number was ahead of mine. She left three ahead of me."

  Shuya and Noriko listened without a word.

  "I thought she might be hiding somewhere near where we started, waiting for me. Just maybe, you know? But she wasn't around. Well, that couldn't be helped. Just like this time, hanging around the starting place wasn't safe."

  He took in smoke and let it out.

  "But somehow, I managed to find her. We were on an island like this one, but somehow I found her."

  He took in smoke and let it out.

  Then he said, "She ran away."

  Startled, Shuya looked at Kawada. Behind the stubble was the expressionless face of someone fighting to conceal his feelings.

  "I tried to chase after her, but then somebody attacked me. I took him out, somehow—but I lost sight of her."

  Again he took in smoke, and again he let it out.

  "She didn't trust me."

  He kept up his poker face, but the corners of his eyes were almost imperceptibly quivering.