Battle Royale (Remastered)

by Koushun Takami, Nathan Collins

  He continued. "And still I looked for her. When I found her again she was dead."

  Now Shuya understood Kawada's troubled expression when he told Kawada, "It's hard ... to trust someone," and Kawada said, "Yes, it is. It's very hard." He also saw why Kawada had said that Hiroki Sugimura might only have found Kayoko Kotohiki's body—or that she might not trust him.

  "You asked me, Nanahara," Kawada said, "why I trusted you. You know, when we first met?"

  "Yeah." Shuya bobbed his head. "I did."

  "I believe I said you two looked like a nice couple."

  Kawada looked up at the thatched canopy. By the time he lowered his eyes, his expression had relaxed. "That was the truth. That's what I saw. So I decided, unconditionally, to help you two as best I could."

  Shuya nodded. "I see."

  After a time, Noriko said, "I'm sure that..."

  Shuya looked at her, and she continued. "I'm sure that Keiko was terrified . . . and she wasn't thinking straight."

  "No." Kawada shook his head. "I loved her, but I know there must have been something about the way I treated her when we were together. That must have been why."

  With a little force, Shuya said, "You've gotta be wrong."

  Kawada kept his hands clasped in front of his pulled-up knees as he looked at Shuya. A wisp of smoke, delicate as silk thread, rose from the cigarette in his hand.

  "It was a misunderstanding," Shuya said. "Just a small misunderstanding, I'm sure of it. It's this fucking game. These awful circumstances. That's gotta be it."

  Kawada grimaced again. "I don't know," he said. "I'll never know."

  He tossed the cigarette into the puddle with the others and took the birdcall from his pocket.

  "See this?" he said. "Keiko was a city girl, but she liked mountain hiking. The week we had that fucking game, that Sunday, she was going to take me bird watching."

  Holding the red birdcall between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, he put it up to his eye like a jeweler appraising a gemstone.

  "She gave this to me."

  He smiled and looked at Shuya and Noriko. "This is all I have left. It's my lucky charm, though I can't say it brings back good memories."

  Noriko waited for him to put away the birdcall, then handed him back the photograph. He returned the picture to his ID wallet, and the wallet to his rear pocket.

  When he'd finished, Noriko said, "Hey, Kawada." He looked back up at her.

  "I don't know how Keiko felt at that moment. But..." She wet her lips. "I think she loved you in her own way. She had to have—I mean, she looked so happy in that picture. Don't you think so?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." Noriko nodded. "And if I were her, I'd want you to live. I wouldn't want you to die for me."

  Kawada grinned and shook his head. "That's just a matter of personal taste."

  Noriko insisted, "Just keep it in mind as a possibility. Okay? Please?"

  For a while, Kawada remained silent. He opened his lips as if to speak . . . but then shrugged and smiled—only it seemed sad.

  He looked at his watch again and stepped from the shelter to sound the call.

  4 STUDENTS REMAIN.

  By the sixth time Kawada had sounded the birdcall, the rain had completely stopped. Though it was five minutes to six, compared to the previous hours, the island seemed terribly bright. The three kids dismantled the tree-branch canopy.

  After sitting back down against the rock wall, the open sky above, Noriko said, "It's nice out now," and Shuya and Kawada nodded.

  The gentle breeze rustled the trees and bushes.

  Kawada put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

  Shuya watched Kawada in profile, deciding whether or not he should say what he was thinking. He decided to speak.

  "Kawada."

  Kawada looked up. The cigarette dangled from the side of his mouth.

  Shuya said, "We didn't ask about you—about what you want to be in the future."

  Kawada chuckled, and smoke came from his lips. "I thought I'd become a doctor," he said. "Like my father. I figured that even in this shitty country, a doctor can still help people."

  This answer gave Shuya enough confidence to say, "Then why don't you? You've got the knack for it."

  Kawada tapped the ashes from his cigarette and shook his head as if to say, That discussion is over.

  "Kawada," Noriko said.

  He turned his head to her.

  "I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm going to say it one more time. If I were Keiko, I'd say this." She looked up at the sky, now beginning to take on orange, and continued, "Please live. Talk, think, act. Listen to music now and then, and—" Her words caught, then she continued, "and look at paintings and be moved by them. Laugh often, and at times, cry. And if you find a good girl, pursue her and find love with her."

  It's like poetry, Shuya thought. Pure poetry.

  These are her words. And words, when combined with music, have a great, godlike power.

  Kawada quietly listened.

  Noriko continued, "Because that's the person who I really loved."

  She looked at him. She seemed a little embarrassed as she added, "That's what I'd think, if I were her."

  The ashes on the end of his cigarette had grown long.

  Shuya said, "Hey, Kawada. There are ways to take down this country without dying, right? Even if it's in a roundabout way."

  Then he added, "After all, we just got to be friends, yeah? It'll be lonely without you. Come with us—to America."

  Kawada remained silent for a long time. Then, realizing his cigarette had burned down to the filter, he tossed it aside.

  He looked up at them, about to speak.

  That's it, Kawada, Shuya thought. Come with us. We'll stick together—because we're a team.

  But then that all-too-familiar voice came ringing out.

  "Hey there."

  Sakamochi.

  Shuya lifted his limp left arm with his right and looked at his watch. Beneath the muddy glass, the hands read five seconds past six p.m.

  "Can you hear me, all of you? Well, I say all of you, but there aren't many left now, are there? All right, I'll announce who died. Here's the boys."

  Shuya was already thinking. We were down to only four boys left: me, Kawada, and Hiroki, and Kiriyama. And only four girls, too—Noriko, Kayoko Kotohiki, Mitsuko Souma, and Mizuho Inada. Kiriyama won't have died so easily. Hiroki signaled us. So there should be no boy fatalities.

  "Only one died. Number eleven, Hiroki Sugimura."

  Shuya's eyes went wide.

  4 STUDENTS REMAIN.

  Part Four

  Finish

  4 STUDENTS REMAIN.

  "And now for the girls. Big numbers there. Number one, Mizuho Inada; number two, Yukie Utsumi; number eight, Kayoko Kotohiki; number nine, Yuko Sakaki; number eleven, Mitsuko Souma,- number twelve, Haruka Tanizawa,- number sixteen, Yuka Nakagawa,- number seventeen, Satomi Noda; and number nineteen, Chisato Matsui."

  Shuya and Noriko's eyes met. Hers were trembling. They had been prepared to hear the names of Yukie's group . . . but Hiroki and Kayoko? And Mitsuko Souma and Mizuho Inada? That means only us and Kiriyama are left?

  "That can't be," Shuya uttered. We didn't hear any gunfire after the smoke signal went up. Was Hiroki killed by a knife or something? Or did I hear Sakamochi wrong just now? Are my ears playing tricks on me?

  He hadn't heard Sakamochi wrong. The announcement continued.

  "All right. We're down to four now. Are you listening, Kiriyama, Kawada, Nanahara, and Nakagawa? You've done so well. I'm really proud of you all. Now then, I'll announce the new forbidden zones."

  But before Shuya could dutifully mark his map, Kawada said, "Gather your things."

  "Huh?" Shuya asked, but Kawada waved him to hurry.

  Sakamochi continued, "From seven p.m. . . ."

  "Get your head in this," Kawada said. "It's Kiriyama. He could have somehow figured out how Sugimura was going to conta
ct us. We might have been leading Kiriyama to us this whole time."

  Shuya scrambled to his feet and put his and Noriko's daypacks over his shoulder.

  Sakamochi was saying, "All right then, keep it up. Just a little more to go—"

  At that very moment, Shuya saw Kawada's eyes dart over to their alarm system—the thread inserted into a notch on the side of a tree trunk.

  The thread fell from the wet bark.

  "Down!" Kawada yelled as the brattattattattatatat barked.

  Shuya and Noriko ducked as sparks blossomed on the rock face behind them and fragments of rock sprinkled their heads.

  Kneeling, Kawada fired his Uzi into the brush.

  Shuya didn't know if Kawada hit him, but Kiriyama (because who else could it be?) didn't return the fire.

  Kawada said, "This way. Hurry!" and the three ran south along the rock wall, away from where the shots had come.

  When they reached the end of the wall, from where Kawada had been sounding the birdcall, that brattattattat came again from behind. Unharmed, the three flew into the bushes ahead.

  They came upon a waist-deep cleft in the rocky ground a little less than a meter wide. Dirt and leaves covered the fissure's base as it stretched on toward the south. Shuya hadn't known about the formation, but Kawada had likely taken it into consideration when selecting their hiding place. Kawada prompted them to jump down into the naturally formed trench, and they did. Kawada took the rear, firing the Uzi behind. They heard that other brattattat again, and just beside Shuya's head, the trunk of a thin tree that had taken root on the edge of the cleft shattered.

  "Run!" Kawada yelled, and they ran along the base of the cleft. Shuya's foot caught on a dead branch, but he managed to catch his balance and follow Noriko. Behind them, the two guns exchanged rapid gunfire.

  Suddenly, Noriko stopped as if something had hit her, and she moaned and crouched over. Shuya, who had been about to look back at Kawada, rushed to her. Had she tripped over something?

  She hadn't. A horizontal cut ran below her left eye, and blood poured down her cheek. Her right hand must have been cut too, because blood was dripping from her closed fist. The Browning semi-automatic she'd been carrying was at her feet.

  Shuya put his hand on her shoulder and looked up.

  And then he saw it.

  A thin, twisted wire had been stretched across above the cleft. Leaving aside the question of where Kiriyama had found it (he had probably untwisted a wire rope that had been used to secure some object), the killer had anticipated they'd escape through the trench. Had Shuya run into the wire, it would have sliced through his neck. Noriko escaped such a fate, but if she'd been unlucky, she might have lost her eye.

  A red anger blossomed in Shuya's mind. He didn't know what Kiriyama was. Kawada had said he only chose what to do at random. Whatever he was—normal or abnormal, prodigy or madman—hurting Noriko was too much.

  I'm going to fucking kill him!

  But first he needed to help Noriko to her feet. He stuffed the CZ 75 into his slacks, picked up the Browning, and with the gun in his hand, he put his arm around her shoulder. Though dazed, she was already trying to stand.

  Kawada, still firing behind, caught up with them and gave them a glance. His eyes darted about, and he must have spotted the wire, because he clenched his teeth. Then Shuya, who had turned his head to look at Kawada, saw behind his comrade's back Kazuo Kiriyama jumping down into the trench.

  Kawada said, "Heads down!" as he fired. Kiriyama, machine gun in hand, quickly ducked back into a fold on the side of the cleft. Kawada's shots tore into the rock, and dust flew up.

  Again Kawada said, "Run!"

  Shuya stood Noriko up, and they ducked under the wire and started running. Unable to know if more wire traps awaited them, they let up on their pace.

  Shuya was frustrated. If he only had use of both his arms, he could have still supported Noriko while filling Kiriyama with lead.

  Kawada kept on firing as he stuck close behind them. Kiriyama was shooting back at them as he slowly but steadily advanced.

  A good five or six meters later, the cleft came to an end. Shuya scrambled up to the ground first, then took Noriko's uninjured hand and pulled her out of the ditch. Her face was tight with determination, but the left side of it was covered with blood.

  "Don't stop!" Kawada shouted over the gunfire. Shuya pulled Noriko by the hand and charged into the bushes ahead.

  They came out in the yard of a house, an old single-story building that seemed to cling to the side of the mountain. A white mini pickup truck was parked near the front door, just off the driveway. For some reason, an ancient washing machine and refrigerator were on their sides in the cargo bed—maybe the owner had been about to throw them away.

  "Behind the truck!" Kawada yelled. Shuya and Noriko ran hand in hand across the muddy ground and made it behind the vehicle.

  Shuya had sat Noriko down and had drawn the Browning by the time Kawada dove into cover behind the truck. Shuya caught a flash of black moving through the bushes and started firing. The recoil jarred his left shoulder, where the bullet was still lodged, and sent waves of searing pain through him. But right now he couldn't let that stop him.

  Kawada loaded a new magazine into the Uzi, offered it to Shuya, and said, "Shoot this. Keep him pinned down."

  Shuya set the Browning down at his feet, took the submachine gun, and fired in the direction he had seen Kiriyama.

  Kiriyama didn't shoot back. While Shuya edged his eyes over the top of the pickup's bed, Noriko moved closer to him. She was holding the Browning tightly in her bleeding hand.

  Watching for any movement in the bushes, Shuya asked, "Are you all right, Noriko?"

  "Yeah. I'm fine."

  He glanced around her to Kawada. He'd opened the truck's door and was leaning over into the driver's seat, rustling around inside the cab.

  Suddenly the engine revved up, and Shuya felt the truck vibrate. The roar quickly settled into a low rumble. Raindrops loosened by the gentle vibration began to trickle down the side of the truck.

  Kawada pulled his head out to shout, "Get in! We're getting out of here. Hurry, Noriko!"

  Noriko took his hand and climbed into the cab. Kawada scrambled up after her and into the driver's seat.

  "Nanahara!" he shouted. "Get in the passenger's side!"

  Kawada backed the truck, aiming its tail in the direction Kiriyama had been, then turned the wheel and brought the passenger side facing Shuya. Noriko opened the door.

  Just as he reached up his hand to climb inside, that brattattattat rang out—but this time, accompanied by a hammering. Holes punctured through the inside roof of the confined cab, and the bullets that made them blew out the windshield directly in front of Kawada. Shuya threw himself against the side of the truck, aimed the Uzi high into the mountainside, and squeezed the trigger. The black figure ducked back into the trees. Kiriyama had gone up the mountain.

  Shuya jumped into the passenger's seat, and Kawada hit the gas. The truck swerved onto the unpaved driveway. Another brattattattat tore the hose off the washing machine on the back of the truck. The hose twisted snakelike in the air, then landed behind them—and was left in the distance.

  The gunfire ceased.

  Shuya asked, "Are you all right, Noriko?"

  Noriko was sitting between them, her face painted bright red, but she gave him a nod and said, "Yes."

  But she was still tense, and she clutched the Browning with both hands. Shuya rested the Uzi between his legs, took the bandana from his pocket, and wiped her face. Blood continued to gush from the pink flesh of her open wound. Without substantial surgery, it would likely leave a scar. To do this to a girl. . .

  "Damn it," Shuya said, looking over at Kawada. "He knew where we were a while before. That's how he anticipated our escape route."

  But Kawada shook his head. Working the gearshift as he navigated the winding road, he said, "No, he must not have known until just when he attacked. Otherwise, he
would have come before Sakamochi's announcement. If we'd still had our guard down and came out to meet him thinking he was Sugimura, he could have wiped us out without a hitch. But he didn't know where we were, so he passed the time between the birdcalls setting up that trap wire. That probably wasn't the only place he did it."

  Oh, Shuya thought, that might be. For him, it was just passing time. And now Noriko has that terrible gash on her dace.

  "Noriko," he said, "let me see your hand."

  Only now did she let go of the gun. The grip too was bright red. She held out her right hand, so small and delicate. The cut, a diagonal slash across the base of her ring and little fingers, was deep. The pattern of the Browning's textured grip had imprinted into her skin, and her blood filled the meshlike grooves. The wire had probably cut her face first. Then, when she started to fall, she had reflexively raised her hand and sliced it on the wire. It might have been a lot worse had she not been holding the gun at the time.

  Shuya had intended to bandage her with his bandana, but he stopped when he realized he couldn't without his left hand.

  Noriko said, "It's all right. I can do it." She took the bandana, shook it open with her left hand, then wrapped it around her right and tied the ends. Then she gripped the Browning again.

  The view beyond the spiderwebbed windshield suddenly opened, revealing farmland sandwiched between the wooded foothills and leading down to the flat land, all beneath an evening sky. Their truck had come down from the mountain.

  Shuya realized where they were and said, "Kawada—we're heading into a forbidden zone."

  "Don't worry. I'm aware of it," Kawada said, looking ahead. "Did you hear the new zones? From seven, B-9. From nine, E-10. And from eleven, F-4. Add them to the map, will you?"

  Amazingly, Shuya had remembered the locations. He took the now tattered map from his pocket, spread it open on his lap, and, as he bounced inside the cabin, he scribbled off the forbidden zones.

  They passed a house on the way down, then came onto another road, equally narrow, but paved. Beyond the fields, Shuya could see the southern mountain now. To their right were the low foothills of the northern mountain. To their left, about two hundred meters away (inside the forbidden zone), stood a single house, and two more were ahead and a little to the left. Beyond those, scattered homes led all the way to the village on the eastern shore. Not too far on this side of the village, though hidden by a hill, would be the field where they first encountered Kiriyama. The school was one more hill over from there, also not visible from this location.