START GAME

[Fiori]

As the teacher's attention was drawn away from the classroom, Ryuhei almost leapt from his skin as a scrunched up piece of paper bounced off his temple, blinking once or twice as he turned to see Hiroshi play it cool and silently motion to the note on the floor.

As uncharacteristically subtly as he could, the bleach blonde delinquent would reach on down like he was stretching his arms and snatch it up, opening it up to scan its contents with a grin. Hell YES, now that's what he's talking about! He had to hide his excitement as he played along with those instructions, giving Hiroshi a thumbs up once their names started getting called out.

He'd hold his breath as their names were called out one at a time, feeling that wonderful cocktail of excitement and anxiety course through his veins. He knew deep down that he needed to make a good impression, especially as a member of the Kiriyama Family. They had a reputation to maintain after all, plus he couldn't look bad in front of the boys, right?

As soon as his name was finally called out, B10: Ryuhei Sasagwa would shoot up from his desk, crack his knuckles and start strolling towards the door like he owned the place. No fear, no hesitation, he was a smoking hot badass and wanted to make sure every motherfucker in the room knew that. With a cheeky smirk on his face, he'd turn back to the crowd and do a couple finger pistols, showing off like the cocky little shit he was before turning back around...

Just in time to catch the bag that was thrown his way, stumbling back slightly as he just barely caught it. He blinked and paused for a split second, before remembering that he totally meant to do that, turning back to his classmates to blow them all a kiss before clumsily stumbling his way down the corridor.

So far, so good. It was north they were meant to be heading, right? In that case, he probably ought to get his compass out now rather than scramble for it outside, just in case anyone was planning on taking early potshots near the entrance. Without a second thought he'd unzip his bag and start rummaging through it, not even slowing down as he rushed down the hall towards the exit until his hand grabbed hold of a cold piece of metal. Hah! Paydir-"OOOH, SHIT!"

In all the chaos, he'd completely failed to take note of the fact one of his shoelaces was untied. Just as he grabbed a hold of his compass he'd find himself tripping over and launching through the exit, landing badly in a crumpled heap outside. He'd stir and scramble up from where he face planted himself, shaking his head as a look of panic struck his face, lifting up his clenched fist to check on his compass.

Still working. Thank fuck for that...

After stumbling to his feet and dusting himself off, he'd zip his bag back up and throw it back on, giving the compass a quick look before heading northwards. Look out, bitches, the Kiriyama Family's in town!

A minute or so later, he'd realise the red arrow meant north, quickly turning back and heading in the direction for real this time.

((Ryuhei Sasagawa continued in fall for you))

[carduinal-cyn]

"Sho Tsukioka."

There it was, the name like a movie star's. "Sho", meaning "clear". "Tsukioka", "moon hill". Sho bore his name proudly wherever he went. In his younger years, he would even stay up until his eyes were bleary to watch the full moon shining, clear and bright through the clouds, and marvel at his namesake. It rolled off the tongue effortlessly when Hayashida took attendance. Now, in Sakamochi's mouth, the name sounded like a veiled threat. Sho could almost hear the double meanings now: "tsuki", "stab"; "kashou", "not good enough". Shape up, or get a knife in your belly. Welcome the eve of battle, or you'll never see the moon rise again.

When did I start thinking such morbid things...? Sho wondered. Ah well. It beat the intrusive thoughts, at least. As he took one last glance at the letters he'd written on the page, Sho imagined tearing the paper in two with his bare hands. He imagined Sakamochi's sickly-sweet smile giving way to a cold rictus, and the great big government thugs pumping him as full of lead as Hayashida. What a stupid way to go.

Sho stood without a word, but his hair seemed to wilt under the weight of his thoughts, the way it bounced a little with each deliberate step he took. He was already mentally assigning categories to his classmates. He'd decided on a traffic-light sort of analogy: Mitsuru and Nanahara were blue, to be trusted immediately; Hiroshi and Ryuhei were yellow, trustworthy to a point but not so predictable; Kazuo Kiriyama, of course, was a red for danger.

The pack they handed him was long and heavy. Good, he thought. Let's hope it's a rifle, just in case...

((Sho Tsukioka [B14] continued in fall for you...))

[Sticks]

Satomi had written the words. She had always been a good student, great, even, and it so figured she might as well do the same right before having to get out of this place.

She came to the front, got her things, and scurried out of the school as fast as her legs could take her. There'd be room for thinking later. For now, it was time to flee.

((Satomi Noda continued elsewhere))

[Sh4dE]

Yoji's eyes digged into the back of Yuichiro, staring blankly at the uniform. He couldn't bare watching his classmates' faces anymore, it was too much for him. So instead of paying attention to the front when slowly one by one everybody in the room was called, he continued looking forward, using Yuichiro's back as a shield from reality and the sad faces of the classmates who turned around to say their goodbyes to the class.

Yoji continued blankly staring until his shield was called himself which left Yuichiro's desk empty. Yoji switched from staring blankly forward to blankly staring at his own handwriting in his assignment paper on his desk. He continued to do so until he heard Yoshimi's name being called. As she looked back at him before leaving the room, Yoji gave her a reassuring smile.

After she left, Yoji looked in front of him again and noticed a piece of paper on Yuichiro's desk that was not Yuichiro's assignment paper. Due to having been entirely focused on writing his own assignment, he did not notice when Yoshimi threw the paperplane and he had no clue this message was intended for him.

He wasn't close enough to read the content of it, but he could make out English letters being written down instead of kanji, so it probably was a letter intended for Shuya. Yoji didn't know much english, it was the language of the enemy after all. The only time he came in contact with english was when Yoshimi played bootlegged American music by an artist formerly known as Prince.

This english letter distracted him temporarily from the reality until his own name had been announced. That woke him up from his trance.

As Yoji made his way forward, he passed by the note and was tempted to just snatch it, but he didn't feel sneaky enough and didn't want to risk being shot. So he just picked up his bag and disappeared into the night.

((Yoji Kuramoto continued elsewhere))

[DerArknight]

"Noriko Nakagawa."

By the time her name was called, Noriko had somehow managed to wipe away her tears.

She was still terrified, but she had no intention of letting anyone know that. Later, when she was outside of view from people, she would cry again.

But for now, Noriko had something else on her mind.

While her classmates left one by one, she had slowly opened her handbag and took out something. She believed they would see each other again, but did Shuya believe the same? Noriko wanted to give him a sign that there was still hope.

At least that is what she told herself when she stood up and laid her transparent plastic bag with the cookies she made the other day on Shuya's desk.

"For you."

She didn't wait for a response, afraid that Sakamochi would ruin the moment. But a few steps forward, she heard a whispered "Thank you", and her heart fluttered while she accepted her bag and left the classroom.

((Noriko Nakagawa continued in GTFO))

[Kermit]

"Yumiko Kusaka."

Yumiko took a short, shaky breath in, glanced at Yukiko, nodded her head, and then rose to her feet. As she reached the front of the room, a soldier tossed a bag in her direction, and she caught it reflexively.

Quietly, she walked out of the classroom, giving it one last glance over her shoulder.

She disappeared alone, out into the unknown.

((Yumiko Kusaka continued just east of here.))

[Catche Jagger]

Kayoko’s rise to her feet had been slow once her name had been called. She had watched as those before her had been called, as they exchanged words with those they cared about or wished their classmates well. Some interacted with the soldiers, others vanished from their presence without a word or gesture.

As she slowly shuffled towards the front Kayako reminded herself that it didn’t matter what move she made when her turn came. All that mattered was that she made sure that she was deliberate in her choice.

Taking the bag assigned to her, Kayoko turned to face what remained of her class. Her lips parted as she thought to say something, but no specific words seemed to form.

“I…” was all that managed to escape from her lips before she quickly turned and ran from the room, not checking her bag until she was far from the school.

((Kayoko Kotohiki continued elsewhere…))

[Yonagoda]

She stared at the classroom for a few more seconds, just so that she will never forget the arrangements of the chairs and the paint on the walls.

And then she left.

[Polybius]

She bowed and left. He felt his heart drop. She was out of his view for the first time since this ordeal started. He knew it would only be a moment, though. She would wait for him.

"Kazuhiko Yamamoto."

Kazuhiko took his bag and went straight for the door. He passed many of his classmates on the way. He didn't know how to feel about them, exactly. Not yet. But he knew he had somewhere to be. So Kazuhiko left without a glance at any of them.

((Kazuhiko Yamamoto continued in fall for you))

[Lilith]

Tadakatsu Hatagami had dreams of being gutted, of being stabbed, of being beaten to death. He had dreams of this moment of being picked and being chosen for this exact nightmare. He shuddered. He was hoping his name was going to be said, as a mercy or as a threat or as a whatever. Anything would be better than this.

(Would it really?)

(Would a dream be better than reality?)

(Reliving things over and over again?)

He didn't hear his name.

They looked at him.

He got up to his feet.

And ran.

(This island. He had seen it from his dreams.)

[decoy73]

"Mitsuko Souma"

And now it was her turn. Game on, whatever anyone would like to call it. She just got up, picked up her bags from her seat, and caught the bag that they threw to her. She looked back at the classroom for a second before leaving. It was almost empty. Just, what, thirteen of her classmates in there?

It was weird. She was almost going to miss them.

((Mitsuko Souma continued in Could You Really?))

[Ohm]

Yumiko was called before her. Yukiko looked over at her and was given an nod before she stood up and went to the frontm; it was like a sting in the heart to see them give her the bag. Before she left, they shared a last glance at one another with her words going through Yukiko's head.

To the east.

Anxiety filled her to know that she would have to follow and she did not know how long it would take for them to call her. Maybe they knew that they were besties and kept them apart because of that. They had to since more people were called before her, and Yukiko was getting antsy; why couldn't she be called right after? Just! Rip the band-aid already!

"Yukiko Kitano."

Her heart almost sprang out of her chest as her name was called. Shakily, she stood up using the desk as a support and hurridly made her way to the front where they roughly tossed a bag at her. With a grunt and a step back, Yukiko caught it.

She took a last, quick glance at the people left. Many of the others that had left had words to say, long or few, it didn't matter as long as they had something to say. A few of them didn't; maybe they didn't have the right words to say; or they were too afraid.

Yukiko was of the latter class. With people still waiting like Yoshitoki, Shinji, Sugimura, Shuuya... She did not know what to say.

Instead, she gave a small wave of goodbye to those left, and with teary eyes and unsteady legs, she ran out of the room.

She needed to get to the east.

[MurderWeasel]

"Shinji Mimura."

By the time Shinji's name was finally called, he'd actually begun to feel doubt. Maybe they knew. Maybe he'd slipped up, and they'd read way more into something he'd done than was warranted. Or maybe they knew more about him than they had any reason to, and were aware of his extracurricular activities from long before today. It would be trivial to "randomly" leave him for last, then shoot him and claim he'd raised a fuss.

There would be no appeals process, no oversight, no chance. Shinji knew a lot about how the government could make people disappear. This would be even cleaner than an electrical accident.

But his name was called, and he stood with something that could pass for nonchalance just as well as relief. He walked to the front of the classroom with smooth, measured steps, a little grin on his face. The timing could've been better. He would've preferred to be out before Souma, or else well after her. It was what it was. Matsui was gone already, but Shu and Yutaka were still here. Depending on what happened, that gave him options.

Shinji reached out and took the bag from the soldier, then held up his free hand, thumb, index, and middle fingers extended in a wave his friends would know well. He did not turn to face them. Then he was out the door.

In the hall, he turned right, making his way with quick, soft steps. He took note of all the soldiers lounging around—far too many of them for a direct assault to ever have a chance of success—but his attention was more on the ambient sound. He was listening for gunfire from outside. It was just Kitano between him and Souma.

He checked his bag, not slowing, and there was a pistol there. He'd done a lot of poking around in places the government didn't want him to be on the net, but had never held a gun before. Information on them was hard to come by, but he'd figure it out, right? He had to.

He slipped out the front door of the building, and wasn't gunned down instantly, so he made for the treeline, off at an angle where he could watch the door. It wouldn't do to run off at random. Every second counted. He had to make whatever opportunities he could.

((Shinji Mimura continued in Calculated Risk))

[MetaAudi]

A screamingly soft sigh escaped from her lungs, becoming trapped behind tips lips as Izumi stared down at the slip of paper which she had written on. It felt completely unreal, a disembodiment from what it meant to even be alive. Each word forged into the paper had altogether weaved a contract bidding Izumi away from something greater than just her humanity, she would never again be a member of society. Alive or dead, most likely dead, her world had already changed irreparably. It was an odd thought that kicked her out from her own status enough to confuse her tears into hesitation.

'We will kill each other' was rather the vague and threatening statement. It technically didn't betray or promise anything, but it reminded her of the psychological tricks she had studied in class. 'If I do not kill, I will be killed,' followed suit, a similar means of psychological enforcement designed to make people more willing to shed blood. Knowing this only made things worse though, as it reassured her that blood would spill by nightfall. If anything, perhaps it was thankful that the kids would be primed for murder if they were to die anyway.

Letters and half-sentences danced across the paper, not paying mind to their instructions yet staying within the macabre intentions of the guide. Izumi tucked the paper away into a pocket somewhere and swept it out from her mind for the time being. A passing thought nagged that one of these papers, autographs from murderers yet to be, would be worth millions to some people.

As more people filtered from the room, Izumi worked on her composure. Although she was altogether unassuming in appearance, almost everyone had to walk within close sight of her front row seat to escape the room. Her strained eyes observed each human, once a student, as they left the room, rationalizing the situation to herself. She appreciated the long wait for herself, secretly hoping that she would be called last and knowing that she did terribly under pressure.

"Izumi Kanai," a voice droned from somewhere in front of her. Damn.

Vision still hit by gravity so as to stare at the ground, she slowly stood from her chair. For whatever reason she still felt the need to put her chair back under the table and did so accordingly. A certain waving shake was evident in her gait, irregular steps betraying a deeper panic beneath her bones. A few visible scratches along her arms told a similar story like the bald spots on a sick animal. Her hair, a pretty thing black in color, would hardly last a day before it would become rugged, though it was already starting to tingle from the scalp with sweat.

Her feet robotically carried her out of the room, not even considering rebelling as she followed the directions to the best of her abilities. There were still some people behind her, probably, not that she was keeping track. It wouldn't matter now that she was out of the classroom, no longer a student.

((Izumi Kanai continued somewhere else once I figure out how this stuff works))

[Gundham]

"Yukie Utsumi."

She stood up, trembling, and instinctively smoothed down the front of her skirt.

She looked around at the classmates who were remaining. What was she supposed to say to them, at a time like this? Did anyone really care what the class representative had to say at a time like this? Did any of them really think that she'd be able to do anything to stop what was coming? Did any of it, any of the things she'd tried to for everyone, really matter?

Utsumi took a long, shaky breath. This was the last thing she would ever say to them as class representative.

"I..." The lump in her throat refused to go down, no matter how hard she tried to swallow. It was hard to speak. "I-I'm sorry, everyone."

She bowed stiffly, and headed to the front of the room, extending her arms out in front of her to receive her bag. The soldier flung it, hard enough that it whipped through her arms and slammed into her chest. She groaned, her arms automatically enfolding the bag as she staggered back from the impact.

And with that, Yukie Utsumi was no longer the class rep. She was just another student, no more prepared or qualified for this hell than anyone else.

She left, and ran for her life.

((Yukie Utsumi continued elsewhere.))