There Was a Time

[Macha*]

((Shogo Kawada, continued from The Worst Game in History))

Well, you got yourself thrown back in the game, Shogo. What now?

This was the second time Shogo Kawada had found himself sitting down on a grassy hill of an island used in the program, but he remembered his hair being much longer the first time.

Plus, last time there were corpses everywhere.

Shogo looked over to the pack beside him. He hadn't opened it yet, but he was almost certain that he wasn't going to get a good weapon.

After a few moments thought, Shogo reached over and took the pack anyway, wanting to at least get his new map so he could orientate himself with everything on this island.

Closing his eyes and reaching in, Shogo pulled out his assigned weapon. It wasn't a gun, Shogo could feel as much, or a knife, which meant that unless he was getting a meteor hammer or something, he was out of luck weapon-wise.

Feels like... paper?

Shogo pulled out his 'weapon', and opened it up. It was, in fact, a very intricatly painted Harisen, the sheets of paper blood red, with white petals painted on. Shogo marvelled at the artistry for a few moments before throwing it away. He didn't need the weight slowing him down. He'd just have to find a weapon elsewhere.

Shogo felt in his pockets, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Placing a cigarette between his lips, Shogo lit it and took a drag, before placing the pack and the lighter back in his pockets. As he put them back, however, he found something else in there.

Pulling out the cylinder, Shogo placed his thumb and forefinger on the handle of it, pulling it a couple of times, smirking a little at the Chee noise it made, and how much it reminded him of the girl who gave it to him.

Shogo took his map and compass from his duffel bag, before zipping it up and placing it back on his back. Shogo hefted to his feet, trying not to drop the cigarette from his mouth.

Alright, I'll do this. For Keiko.

((Shogo Kawada, Continued in Don't go into the Light.))