Chapter 23

(0/18) An all-black vehicle was driving on the dark, evening road. “Thank you, as always,” Yuki said from the passenger seat. Being both carless and a stranger to using taxis, Yuki had few opportunities to ride in a car. She would only find herself in one when being chauffeured by her agent to and from the venue of a game or the prosthetic craftsman’s residence. In this instance, a game had just concluded. After surviving Cloudy Beach, the game after that, and two subsequent games, Yuki now had a grand total of forty-seven victories to her name. As she had cleared her most recent game without injury, she was being taken straight home rather than to the hospital. During the ride, Yuki had delivered those words of gratitude to her agent in the driver’s seat. “…Where did that come from?” her agent asked with a puzzled expression. “I mean, I was just thinking about how thankful I am,” Yuki replied. “No one can go about life all by themselves. Like, even a brilliant businessperson might find themselves utterly useless after changing companies. Sure, a lot depends on a person’s capabilities, but their environment and surroundings are no less important. I haven’t made it this far on my own; it’s only been possible with your help. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you as my agent. I really am grateful.” Yuki ran out of breath and stopped there. She sat waiting for a reply, but contrary to her expectations, a lengthy silence filled the air. It did not seem as if her agent was simply processing her words and preparing an appropriate response. Her agent’s stone-faced expression offered no clues as to what she was thinking. Yuki even wondered if the woman was ignoring her, but soon enough— “I am happy to hear that,” her agent responded. “However, receiving thanks from out of nowhere naturally makes me suspect an ulterior motive.” “…You can tell?” “Of course.” Her agent shrugged. “Is there something you find difficult to bring up?” “I’ve run into a bit of a problem…” “Oh?” “Someone’s been watching me at school lately.” Her agent tilted her head, as if the meaning of the word school confused her. Moments later, however, her expression transformed into one of understanding. “Yes, you did inform me that you have been attending school.” “Mm-hmm, in the evenings.” Shortly after Yuki became a death-game player—to be precise, after the end of Candle Woods—she had started attending night school, as she believed acquiring a bare minimum education was necessary to succeed as a player. For someone who barely had the academic ability of a preschooler, she’d had a rough go of it at first, but she’d managed to push through and overcome those difficulties and had now been taking classes for over a year. Her agent asked, “Do you mean that someone is monitoring you?” “Yeah, but that’s not all. They’ve even searched my bag and desk a couple of times. I think one of my classmates is trying to pry into my background…” “Have you done something to draw suspicion?” “Not really, but I do wear two hats as a student and a player. I have to miss school whenever I’m in a game… I can’t get health checkups because of the Preservation Treatment… And while my major game injuries get fully healed, that doesn’t apply to cuts and scratches, so I’m always showing up at school with scars on my body.” Yuki stuck out her left hand. Of the five fingers in front of her, the middle, ring, and pinkie fingers were prosthetics she had received around half a year ago. “I’ve been trying to hide my prosthetics at school as much as possible, too, but it comes across as unnatural.” “So even acting normally is enough to make you seem suspicious?” “Yep.” “Do you have an idea as to who is responsible?” “No clue. I’ve tried to track them down myself, but they’re as sly as a fox…” “You mentioned that they searched your bag and desk, yes? Is there any possibility they could have discovered something related to the games?” “No, not a chance. I make it a point to never bring anything incriminating to school.” Players were bound by a strict duty of confidentiality and were prohibited from disclosing the existence of the games to ordinary civilians, with the exception of those in related industries like prosthetic craftsmen. As such, Yuki endeavored to act like an ordinary student while at school. Not once had she discussed her profession, not once had she left school by jumping out a window when the stairways were crowded, and not once had she practiced the most efficient ways of wielding a pen as a weapon while bored in class. “That’s why it’s fine if they only monitor me at school, but…” “…It will be an issue if their snooping extends outside of school,” her agent said, inferring the rest of Yuki’s sentence. “…By the way, what would happen if a normal person found out about the games?” “We would need to take immediate action to make them forget before rumors could spread.” “Killing them is the only way, huh…?” Naturally, that was how Yuki interpreted “make them forget,” but to her surprise— “…? No, there’s no need to go that far. We would simply, and quite literally, make them forget.” Her agent took one hand off the steering wheel and tapped the side of her head. “We have the technology to erase memories.” The revelation took Yuki aback. The game organizers had plenty of unfathomable technologies at their disposal, including the Preservation Treatment and other advanced medical support procedures, but she never would have thought them capable of manipulating memories, too. Even in the worst-case scenario, no innocent civilian would need to lose their life. Yuki felt somewhat relieved, but as if driving a stake into that relief, her agent continued— “However, that does not mean it’s acceptable for word to get out. Should it come to that, you’ll have to abandon your schooling to prevent another such occurrence from ever happening again.” “…Figures.” The organizers’ biggest fear was that the games would be exposed to the public. They were certainly not so naive as to allow Yuki to continue her student life while cognizant of that risk. Yuki couldn’t afford to let information slip about the games. She needed to identify and put a stop to her stalker as soon as possible. “I have to do something…,” Yuki muttered. “Would you like my assistance?” her agent offered. “Yes, please.” (1/18) Yuki Sorimachi was a death-game player. Under the player name of Yuki, which was derived from her real name but spelled with different characters, she repeatedly put her life on the line in deadly competitions. Her in-game feats—escaping from a bomb-filled room within a designated time limit, fleeing from an armed serial killer for a specific duration of time, and killing other players to secure her survival, among others—were all broadcast to an audience, and as compensation, she received comparatively paltry sums of prize money. That was how Yuki made a living. To be perfectly clear, she belonged to the underworld, which made her someone undeserving of praise. Of course, Yuki kept her identity hidden at school. She was prohibited from speaking about the games to ordinary civilians, but regardless of these stipulations, Yuki had no interest in talking about herself anyway. Her classmates would occasionally inquire about her background, but she always deftly sidestepped their questions. However, no matter how hard she endeavored to hide her identity, some things were impossible to conceal. And some people would notice things they had no business noticing. (2/18) The night course of one particular high school offered students meals during break time between second and third periods, and around 70 percent of students took advantage of that perk. Inside the cafeteria, whose windows peered out at the dark scenery outside, students sat in front of trays containing balanced meals of miso soup and three side dishes. Some wolfed down the food as fast as they could, while others slowly ate while chatting with friends. Among them was a group of female students. One of those girls, Hitomi Honezuka, sat with her gaze fixed at the table. She was staring not at her tray of food, but rather at the cell phone lying next to it. After catching up on all her social media feeds, she looked at the two girls sitting across from her. “—What do you think of that girl?” Hitomi asked. The other two paused in the middle of scooping food into their mouths. The girls, identical twins, shared the same hairstyle, clothing, accessories, carefree appearances, and even eating speed. To an outside observer, it would appear as if two copies of the exact same person were sitting side by side, but as someone who had been acquainted with the twins for quite some time, Hitomi could tell that on the left sat Hiyori Amano, while on the right was Kazami Amano. “Who do you mean—” “—by ‘that girl’?” The first half of the sentence came from Hiyori, and the latter half came from Kazami. The two would typically speak in turn, as if they shared a single brain. “There’s only one person in our class I’d be referring to—Yuki Sorimachi, duh.” Although it would be dubious if everyone in their class had that common understanding, the twins reacted with expressions of realization. Hitomi scanned the cafeteria. After confirming that girl was nowhere to be seen, she asked the twins, “Who do you think she is?” “Hmm… I dunno. Maybe the girlfriend of a gangster? There’s something intimidating about her. Actually, she could be a gangster herself.” “Or a phantom thief. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, isn’t she?” The twins gave utterly moronic responses. Although that was to be expected from them, other students in their class would likely have given similar answers. In fact, Hitomi herself could only come up with theories on the girl’s background that seemed straight out of a fairy tale, such as Yuki being a mercenary who had returned from a war-torn region, or a death god who had been reincarnated in modern times. That just went to show how enigmatic Yuki Sorimachi was. The mystery of that girl had started a little over a year ago, when Hitomi and the Amano twins had been first-year students. Yuki Sorimachi had transferred to their school, and no sooner had the girl had finished writing her name on the blackboard and introducing herself than Hitomi was convinced she was an indecent person. The girl resembled a phantom, but that was not the only reason—she also had the aura of someone who existed beyond the boundary that separated ordinary people from unordinary people. One got this impression from both Yuki’s aura and actions. First of all, the girl made no effort to connect with anyone in class. She would respond when spoken to but never struck up a conversation of her own accord. On top of that, she would always clam up when asked about her age, occupation, or reason for attending night school. Second, she was absent around two or three times a month. Since night schools brought together students with all sorts of special circumstances, absences were far from a rarity, but it was bizarre how regularly Yuki took off from school. Sometimes, she would return after a day away, while other times, she would be out for several consecutive days. Just last month, she had been absent for more than an entire week. What had she been up to all that time? And third, she would often return from her absences with some sort of injury. She almost always showed up to class with bandages plastered all over her face, arms, and legs. Where did those wounds come from? Every last facet of the girl intrigued Hitomi. “Hitomi, what’s your take?” Kazami asked. “Beats me,” Hitomi replied. “Which is why I recently started looking into her.” “How so?” “Following her around at school. Looking through her bag when she’s out of her seat. Subtly asking our teachers about her. I’ve done pretty much everything I can think of.” “…You’ve gone that far?” “Why?” Both Hiyori and Kazami looked put off—a perfectly natural reaction. If the twins hadn’t been her trusted friends, Hitomi never would have brought this up with them. “I’m just curious,” Hitomi explained. “Aren’t you, too?” “I guess…” “What did you find?” “I wouldn’t be asking you stuff if I had learned anything. Yuki didn’t have any spy tools in her bag, and she hasn’t been shooting up in the bathroom during breaks. The teachers are totally out of the loop, too. She hasn’t brought anything connected to her identity to school.” “Huh…” “That’s why I’m thinking of taking my little investigation outside.” Hitomi took a sip of her milk carton through a straw. “I’m planning to tail her after class today. No matter how slick she thinks she’s being, there’s no way she can fully hide her identity in the outside world.” “…………” The twins looked increasingly put off. “…But isn’t that—” “—illegal?” “Does it look like I care?” Hitomi hadn’t looked into the specifics, but to the best of her knowledge, anyone not operating a detective business would run afoul of the law by following someone. Even though Hitomi was a minor, she would be in serious trouble if she was caught. Still, she couldn’t care less about the legal ramifications. She had already strayed into a gray zone with what she’d done at school. In for a penny, in for a pound. Hitomi intended to go as far as she could. She couldn’t exactly put her finger on the reason, but she felt as though it was her mission to uncover Yuki’s identity—an urge that could only be described as an uncontrollable itch. (3/18) Class was dismissed for the night. Yuki Sorimachi swiftly gathered her things, got out of her seat, and left the classroom. Naturally, a friendless girl like her never lingered to chat. Hitomi had to act fast. She dashed out of the classroom—not to follow Yuki, but to head to the bathroom in order to don a disguise before engaging in pursuit. After pulling out her everyday clothes from her bag, Hitomi dressed herself at a speed that would impress even quick-change magicians. She put on a face mask and hat to hide her identity, left the bathroom, and chased after Yuki. By the time Hitomi caught up to her target, the girl was changing into her loafers at the shoe lockers by the school entrance. Yuki then left the building and began walking along the main road. Hitomi followed after her. Hitomi’s objective was to tail Yuki outside of school. Although they were on a main road, there were hardly any pedestrians out since it was nighttime. Still, the risk of being detected here was far higher than at school. Hitomi had changed into a disguise to mitigate that risk, and she took ample precautions while in pursuit. Suppressing the sound of her breathing and footsteps as much as possible, and keeping far enough away that she even risked losing sight of her target, Hitomi fixed her gaze on Yuki. Yet even with those precautions— Yuki shuddered. Before the girl could look back, Hitomi leaped into the shadows. Hitomi placed her hand over her heart, which had suddenly started pounding at nearly twice its normal speed. Her sweat-covered face teamed up with the chilly night air to drain the warmth from her body. How could she tell? Hitomi wondered. It was the same as when she had been monitoring Yuki at school: The girl would always instantly sense Hitomi’s gaze, forcing Hitomi to take cover. Considering the sizable distance that currently separated the two of them, Hitomi was baffled that Yuki had detected her presence. This occurrence served as ultimate proof that Yuki Sorimachi was no ordinary individual. Faint footsteps, likely belonging to Yuki, echoed through the air. Hitomi readied herself for the possibility that Yuki was heading in her direction, but fortunately, the sound grew fainter and fainter. Had Yuki simply chalked up Hitomi’s gaze to her imagination, or had she been unable to pinpoint where her stalker was hiding? Regardless, Hitomi breathed a sigh of relief. Nevertheless, the fact that Yuki had looked back clearly indicated she suspected someone was following her. Thus, if she really had something she didn’t want getting out, she would take care to avoid doing anything on her way home that could expose her secrets. What, then, was Hitomi to do? Try again another day? Hitomi took out her phone to check the time—nine forty-five PM—before immediately putting it away. (4/18) After confirming nobody was behind her, Yuki faced forward again and continued walking down the main road. Nobody was there, but she was certain she had sensed a gaze directly behind her, albeit at a fair distance away. Whoever had been watching her was almost certainly somewhere on this road. They must have concealed themselves the moment she’d turned to look back. Yuki attempted to scan for signs of someone behind her. She was still being watched—or at least, that was what she thought—but she wasn’t entirely sure, as the person’s presence had somewhat faded. It was possible her stalker had called it a day. It was also possible they had grown more cautious and were continuing their pursuit. It’s finally come to this, Yuki thought. The classmate who had been watching her was doubling down on their surveillance efforts. Yuki had been concealing her identity at school, but that wasn’t doable outside. She couldn’t let anyone witness her meeting with her agent and getting picked up to go to a game, and it would be a huge problem if she revealed her address to her stalker. Whoever her stalker was, they had been brazen enough to look through her bag and desk, so there was a good chance they wouldn’t hesitate to search Yuki’s apartment when she was away. And there were plenty of things in her apartment that could expose the existence of the games: the outfits stored in her closet, the notebook she used to keep records of her games, the bankbook indicating she had an unfathomable amount of savings for a student, and so on. If the stalker got their hands on any of these, it would be game over, and Yuki would have to bid farewell to her life as a student. Yuki desperately wanted to catch her stalker before that happened. But if that was possible, she would have done it a long time ago. Her pursuer was skilled in the art of trailing, something that Yuki had realized when she was being monitored at school. Yuki had not taken the situation lying down and had made efforts to identify the stalker, but not once did they slip up. As a death-game player, Yuki had been tailed by many before, but this person’s skills were a cut above the rest. They were no amateur. Part of her was perplexed as to why such an expert snooper was at her school. Her stalker’s skills were no less sharp on this day. Since they had maintained a considerable distance, it would be difficult for Yuki to run up to them and catch them in the act. Entering an alleyway would probably force them to close the gap somewhat, but even then, they would be unlikely to come within striking distance of Yuki. And so Yuki concluded she would be unable to apprehend her stalker on her own. She pulled out her cell phone and messaged her agent. “Sorry for contacting you so late. “I’m being followed by the person I mentioned before. Can you come to my location?” Yuki thought it was quite the outrageous request, but to her surprise, she got a reply in mere seconds. “Very well. I’ll be there within an hour.” (5/18) In the end, Hitomi went back to pursuing Yuki. Giving up after her target had just once shown suspicion of being followed would be the cowardly thing to do. Forging on was the right move. Since Yuki Sorimachi would have her guard up from here on out, there was little chance she would slip up and expose her secrets, but at the very least, she would have to return home sooner or later. At a minimum, Hitomi wanted to nail down the girl’s address before the night was over. Unfortunately, Yuki seemed to have seen through Hitomi’s plan. The girl stepped into an alleyway off the main road and began to wander around the area. Sometimes, she would stop in the middle of an intersection, and other times, she would repeatedly walk down the same path. Her behavior clearly indicated a reluctance to head home. She had to be trying to slip away from her pursuer. Hitomi had prepared herself for a drawn-out operation, so without the least bit of panic, she continued to patiently follow Yuki. Hitomi checked the time on her phone. It was nearly eleven PM. Over an hour had passed since the start of her pursuit. Yuki had scanned her surroundings several times, but on every occasion, Hitomi managed to skillfully conceal herself. Although Hitomi had yet to acquire a single clue as to Yuki’s identity, she succeeded in keeping a reasonable distance from her target, without once being spotted or losing sight of the girl. Hitomi had previously followed Yuki multiple times at school, but none of those missions had ever lasted so long. She was shocked at her own unyielding persistence. Have I always had a knack for this? she wondered. Hitomi brought a hand to her chest. Earlier, her heart rate had nearly doubled, but now it was back to normal. She was calm, despite being engaged in the illegal act of tailing another person. Thinking back on it, Hitomi had experienced the same feeling multiple times lately—while monitoring Yuki from behind in class and while searching Yuki’s desk when switching classrooms, for instance. Ordinarily, those would be nerve-racking situations, but for some reason, Hitomi would always feel oddly at ease. Why was that? Was this what they called being “locked in”? If so, then why would she be in that state of mind while in the middle of stalking a classmate? Do I actually have the skills to be a detective? As soon as that thought crossed Hitomi’s mind— “—Hello?” A voice called out to her from behind. Hitomi spun around. A woman in a black suit stood directly behind her. The sight flustered Hitomi. She had been so focused on following Yuki that she hadn’t sensed the woman’s presence. “Wh-who are you?” Hitomi reflexively asked. “I…” The woman paused for a second to think. “I’m a friend, I suppose. Of the person you are following.” That’s an utter lie, Hitomi immediately thought. There was no chance someone wearing a suit that imposing would be merely “a friend.” Nevertheless, Hitomi figured the woman was almost certainly connected to Yuki in some way. The woman continued, “Judging by your stature, I take it you are indeed one of Yuki’s classmates.” She looked Hitomi up and down. Hitomi was wearing a face mask and hat as part of her disguise, but she couldn’t hide her physique. One look was all it took for the woman to conclude Hitomi was a school-age girl. “I am unaware of your motives, but regardless, let me get a good look at your face.” The woman extended her arm toward Hitomi. Shit, Hitomi thought. The woman emanated the same aura as Yuki Sorimachi—that of someone who belonged to a different world entirely. She, too, existed beyond the boundary that separated ordinary people from unordinary people. What’s going to happen to me? Hitomi thought back to what the Amano twins had said in the cafeteria. If Yuki Sorimachi really is a gangster’s girlfriend or a phantom thief… What would happen to someone who tried to uncover her identity? What’s she gonna do to me? Hitomi stood there, frozen in fear. Her mind went blank. A strange sensation came over her, as if the world had flipped upside down— —yet for some reason, her heart remained calm. Hitomi grabbed the woman’s outstretched arm. She wrapped her free hand around the woman’s dress shirt, necktie and all, pulling the woman in while rotating her own body. Hitomi lowered her center of gravity and thrust her arms forward, lifting the woman into the air. She was performing a judo shoulder throw. Wham! Unable to adopt a defensive posture, the woman slammed against the asphalt and crumpled to the ground the moment Hitomi released her grip. She lost consciousness immediately. Hitomi panicked at the sight of the upside-down woman. Wha—what did I just do? Did I just throw her? I totally did. I still feel it in my hands, and how else would she be unconscious right now? I definitely threw her. My body moved on its own. I’ve never done judo or read a single martial arts manga, but somehow, I was pulling off a shoulder throw before my mind could even register it. How is that possible? Since when was I a martial artist? The sound of footsteps snapped Hitomi back to her senses. Hitomi intuited they belonged to Yuki. The girl was coming closer. Hitomi dragged the woman to the side of the road before rushing away from the scene. (6/18) Wham! Yuki turned around. Behind her was a fork in the road. The noise had come from beyond it. Yuki broke into a dash and rounded the corner to see— —a woman collapsed on the side of the road. It was Yuki’s agent. Yuki ran up to the woman. She was unconscious. Her suit had drag marks on it, which suggested she had been brought over after collapsing in the middle of the road. That noise from earlier must have come from her agent making contact with the asphalt. Yuki reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Her messaging app was already showing a single message from her agent: “I have located your pursuer.” That meant her agent had approached the stalker and attempted to uncover their identity, only to be met with a counterattack. The situation had become clear. Since Yuki’s agent was unconscious, she could have suffered a blow to the head, so time was of the essence. Yuki opened up a different app to hail an ambulance when suddenly— A hand wrapped itself around her wrist. “Wah!” Yuki shouted. Her agent had regained consciousness. “G-good morning,” Yuki said, despite it being the middle of the night. After a brief moment of silence, her agent replied, “…Good evening.” “Are you okay?” “For now, at least…” Her agent was clutching her head, a sign that she was still in pain. Without changing her posture, she asked, “Were you thinking of calling an ambulance?” “Well, yeah…” “That cannot do. Legally speaking, we agents do not exist. Seeing a doctor is out of the question.” Really? Yuki wondered. Apparently, the organization needed to keep even details of an agent’s death or injury out of the public eye. Yuki put away her phone. “I apologize, Yuki. Your pursuer overpowered me.” “Seems like it, yeah…” Yuki looked around the vicinity, but there were no other signs of life. Her stalker must have long fled the scene. “But you did run into them, right? What did they look like?” “Yes, well… They were wearing a mask and a hat, so I was unable to catch a glimpse of their face. However, judging by their stature, I believe they are most likely a girl…” “Well, that narrows it down by half.” Yuki intended that remark to be a joke, but her agent didn’t show a hint of amusement. “I am ashamed of myself,” the woman said in a quiet voice. “I do not wish to make excuses… But she was quite skilled and threw me with great ease. Would there happen to be a judo expert among your classmates?” “Not that I know of…” So her agent had not been kicked or beaten, but rather had been thrown to the ground. One couldn’t pull off that sort of technique without rigorous training, especially against an agent of the games. Yuki had no idea how strong her agent was, but since she did help facilitate death games, she had to be quite capable. Only a professional could have made a woman like her hit the pavement with such ease. Along those same lines, whoever her pursuer was, she had to be an expert in the art of stalking. Now Yuki was even more intrigued as to her identity. Her agent pressed a hand to her chin. She appeared to be adopting a thinking pose, but since her palm had been scratched, she winced with an “Ow…” “You…can’t go back like that, right?” Yuki said. “Please, stay the night at my apartment.” “I cannot bear to intrude.” Her agent shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I just so happened to buy a guest mattress the other day…” (7/18) Shortly afterward, Yuki returned home to a run-down apartment that was perfect for a phantom. She stepped into the complex, bringing along the woman in the suit. Then she stopped by the mailboxes at the entrance and peeked inside the mail slot assigned to Apartment 107. From the shadows, Hitomi carefully watched the scene play out. (8/18) After the two vanished into the apartment, a nearby shadow began to move. It was Hitomi. She had continued her pursuit with the utmost calmness, but now her heart was fluttering. I did it. I really did it. I outsmarted her. I figured out where she lives without her noticing. After knocking out the woman in the suit, Hitomi had fled the scene. However, she had not abandoned her operation. She had merely pretended to leave and secretly followed after them, as she had deduced Yuki would return home to administer first aid to the woman, who seemed to be an attendant of sorts. And Hitomi’s prediction was right on the money. Yuki Sorimachi had let down her guard and failed to sense Hitomi’s presence. The girl had led Hitomi straight to her apartment. Learning Yuki’s address was huge progress. It was far different from searching the girl’s bag and desk. There was no question Yuki’s apartment would hold secrets she didn’t want getting out. Hitomi would have the ammunition needed to strip Yuki of her facade— All of a sudden, Hitomi trembled at her own train of thought. In no time flat, she had cooked up a scheme to infiltrate someone’s residence. That was crazy. That was crossing the line. While stalking and searching through another person’s possessions were illegal, sneaking into someone’s home was on a completely different level, one that could land her in deep trouble with the police. Besides, hadn’t she learned her lesson from earlier? What would happen to Hitomi if she was unmasked as Yuki’s stalker classmate? She wouldn’t be let off easy, that was for damn sure. In fact, she could come up against something far more frightening than being punished by the law. Sneaking into Yuki’s apartment while being aware of that risk would be akin to a moth flying into a flame. It was abundantly clear that calling it quits here would be the wise decision. But despite that—why was a part of Hitomi balking at the idea of giving up? (9/18) Hitomi went home. Since her place was a great distance from Yuki’s apartment, it was past midnight when she got back. Although the weather was beyond chilly, Hitomi’s whole body felt flushed. Even after she unlocked the entrance to her residential complex, walked up the staircase, reached her apartment, opened the door, entered her room, and turned on the lights, the fire inside her refused to settle down. Hitomi lived in a studio apartment. Unlike Yuki’s run-down building, Hitomi’s place was neat and tidy and decorated with high-quality furniture. If she showed a photo of her apartment to random people on the street, ten out of ten would peg her as the daughter of a rather affluent family. As a matter of fact, Hitomi was the daughter of an affluent family. Her parents were wealthy, but they had kicked Hitomi out and instructed her to live on her own after she’d had a long streak of fooling around and playing hooky. The years had flown by since her parents had broken off contact, and at present, Hitomi could only vaguely recall what they even looked like. They had given her a large sum of money, so she had no struggles living on her own at first, but she couldn’t keep living this lavishly forever. She had enrolled in night school to at least earn a high school diploma. That was the kind of girl she was: a good-for-nothing dumbass who was too ashamed to share her upbringing. So how did that square with her exploits this past night? And it wasn’t just that night; something had been off about her lately. Ever since she first started chasing that phantom girl, Hitomi felt like she had been possessed by an alien presence, like she was slowly transforming into a different being. Hitomi decided to lie down on her bed. She tried to calm herself but to no avail. When she’d been tailing Yuki, it was like she was dreaming. Now she couldn’t help but fall into a state of utter anxiety. It took little time for her negative emotions to orient themselves toward Yuki Sorimachi. If I can just expose her identity… As long as I achieve that, this anxiety will run its course. That thought fired up Hitomi’s spirit. Tomorrow. I’ll sneak into her apartment tomorrow. (10/18) Hitomi skipped school the following day. When the sun had completely set, around the time when they would be having a break between first and second periods at night school, Hitomi got into gear. First, she contacted the Amano twins, who were probably in the middle of eating their school-provided meals, and confirmed that Yuki Sorimachi had shown up to class today—and had therefore left her residence unoccupied. Like the previous night, Hitomi donned a hat and a face mask before heading for Yuki’s apartment. Naturally, Yuki’s building was in the same place it had been yesterday. Hitomi knew Yuki lived in Apartment 107, since the girl had peeked inside the mailbox bearing that number the previous night. Hitomi entered the complex and scouted out the location of Yuki’s apartment. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked, so she went around back to the window of Apartment 107. Next, she pulled out a screwdriver from her bag and thrust it into the gap between the windowpane and the frame. She repeatedly struck the same spot, forming a crack in the glass. She then moved to attacking a different spot, which made the crack grow larger. When it was of a sufficient size, Hitomi pried off the glass with her hands and reached into the room, unlocking the window from inside and opening it. Last night, she had researched how to break a window. The method she had used was said to be the most efficient and silent. Hitomi had made some noise during the process on account of her clumsiness, but none of the other residents had likely heard, and even if they had, they wouldn’t imagine it to be the sound of a window being broken. Even if someone had called the police, it would take several minutes for them to arrive at the scene. That was more than enough time to search Yuki’s apartment. The moment the window broke, Hitomi genuinely felt no misgivings whatsoever, despite the fact that she had become a full-fledged criminal, guilty of property damage along with breaking and entering. It was the same as when she had been devising her plan during the night and when she had gone to procure the necessary tools earlier that day. Although it was her first time committing such an act, she felt not the least bit nervous. Her heart was as calm as if she had been listening to her favorite music, just like when she had been tailing Yuki the previous night. Do I have the skills to be a burglar, too? Hitomi entered the apartment. Light from the streetlamps outside streamed in through the broken window, casting a dim glow over the interior. The apartment was, like Hitomi’s, a studio, but it was several magnitudes inferior to hers. That assessment was based not only on its decrepit appearance but also on the messy interior and the bare minimum furnishings. Yuki Sorimachi was a good-looking girl, but in sharp contrast to her otherworldly aura, her room had a notably lived-in feel. By all appearances, she lived a slovenly lifestyle. However, a secret of that level was not satisfying enough. Hitomi was after something far more consequential. She quickly scanned the room to find the most likely hiding spot for such a thing. Her gaze fell on the closet. The closet was built into the wall of the apartment. Hitomi felt her intuition telling her that was it. As if pulled forward by a powerful magnet, she flew at the closet door and grabbed the handle before her mind could react, but before she could jerk it open— “—That’s enough.” (11/18) A cold hand wrapped around Hitomi’s wrist. It was like she had been touched by a phantom. The temperature of the skin immediately clued in Hitomi to the identity of the newcomer, yet she still turned in the direction of the outstretched arm. Standing there was the phantom girl, Yuki Sorimachi. “Wha—?!” Hitomi fell speechless for a second. “Why are you here?” “I mean, I live here,” she replied. “Weren’t you at school? There’s no way you could’ve rushed here that fast…” “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that was my stand-in,” Yuki said. “I figured you’d try to sneak in here while I was away, so I had her attend class in my place… Did you ask your friends to check if I was at school? Seems like they didn’t notice it was actually someone else.” Right—this girl had an attendant. In which case, Hitomi should have considered the possibility the other woman might take her place. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Why hadn’t she instructed the Amano twins to make extra sure of the situation at school? With her free hand, Yuki ripped off Hitomi’s hat and mask. “Hitomi Honezuka—is that your name?” Apparently, Yuki remembered her from school. “I sensed you following me all the way home yesterday. Since you managed to overpower her, I figured I would have to take care of you myself, so I intentionally lured you here… You’ve given me a lot of trouble, but you messed up in the end. But the fact that you missed school out of the blue essentially told me you were the one stalking me. You should’ve thought to get a double.” Hitomi was at a loss for words. The idea of pouncing while Yuki was away had dominated her mind and had prevented her from considering that the opportunity might be a setup. Even if I did uncover her identity, what was I planning to do after that? You’re such a moron, Hitomi cursed at herself. “Anyway…” Yuki strengthened her hold on Hitomi’s wrist. “I only have one request: Back off.” Due to Yuki’s tight grip, Hitomi could feel her own pulse. “I won’t ask why you’re sticking your nose in my business. I don’t care about you following me around, fishing around my desk, breaking my window, and sneaking into my apartment. I’m willing to let all that slide. But don’t you dare go any further. If you refuse to lay off, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. And I will use any means necessary.” Any means necessary—what exactly did that mean? Hitomi felt no need to ask for specifics. “Do yourself a favor and accept these terms.” Yuki’s tone was neither oppressive nor docile. She had simply made a proposal. There was nothing to read between the lines. Hitomi understood that Yuki had no need to say anything more. The girl had the ability and confidence to eliminate Hitomi as easily as sweeping up dust off the ground. That much was abundantly clear to Hitomi. She felt like she had been extended a hand of salvation. This is great. Now I can finally call it quits. I’ll be free from whatever’s been possessing me recently. Hitomi raised her head and locked eyes with Yuki Sorimachi. She had indeed resolved to express words of surrender. —However… It was then that it came over her once again. “Fine,” Hitomi said. “I’m sorry for everything. I just let my curiosity about you get the better of me.” Hitomi let go of the handle. She took a few steps back, distancing herself from the closet. “As long as you understand,” Yuki said, loosening the grip of her right hand. Hitomi seized the opening. She yanked back her hand before Yuki fully released her grip, pulling the girl forward by her arm. With her other hand, Hitomi grabbed Yuki’s shoulder and thrust her even farther in the same direction, sending her falling exactly as she’d anticipated. To facilitate Yuki’s fall, Hitomi pressed her elbow against the girl’s back. Again, as Hitomi had predicted, Yuki lost her balance and tumbled onto the floor. Hitomi had pushed Yuki aside. With the obstacle removed, she quickly strode ahead, reaching for the closet, when all of a sudden— “Not on my watch!” Yuki grabbed Hitomi’s legs. She had stretched out her right arm and hooked it around Hitomi’s ankle while lying on the ground. Resisting the girl’s attempts to pull her back, Hitomi crouched down and tried to pry off Yuki’s hand, but Yuki then used her left hand to thwart her. Yuki’s left hand. When it touched Hitomi’s hand, she realized that the texture of the girl’s fingers was all wrong. She blurted out the first thing to come to mind— “What happened to your fingers?” A second after those words filled the air, Yuki became visibly shaken. Her expression was one of panic. A second later, Yuki vanished into thin air. Another second later, a sharp pain ran through Hitomi’s left temple. She collapsed onto the ground, and as her world went sideways, she saw Yuki lowering her leg. The girl had moved to Hitomi’s left flank and landed a kick. Hitomi tried to sit up, grimacing as her head throbbed from the scrape she had incurred, but Yuki was waiting to greet her with a straight right punch. At that moment, Hitomi noticed Yuki had left her own right flank slightly vulnerable. Hitomi countered Yuki’s attack with a kick of her own. She landed a clean hit on Yuki’s right side, completely neutralizing the girl’s punch while also pushing her backward. With little space to spare in the cramped studio apartment, Yuki slammed against the wall at full force. Unlike the woman in the suit the previous night, she clung to consciousness and quickly looked back up. However, from the way she was clutching her side, anguish coloring her face, it was clear she was unable to immediately go back on the offensive. Hitomi looked away from Yuki and walked toward the closet. “…Why are you so persistent?!” Yuki yelled from behind. Hitomi shouted from the pit of her stomach. “—That’s what I wanna know!!” She grabbed the handle and jerked it back, revealing the contents of Yuki’s closet. (12/18) The closet was filled with an eclectic collection of outfits. A maid uniform. A bunny-girl costume. A white dress. Gym clothes. A blazer from a school uniform. A swimsuit, a cheongsam, and a witch’s hat and robe. At the far end, for some reason, hung a towel. Had Yuki left it there to dry after washing it? Hitomi did not think these were cosplay costumes. She knew they were game outfits. In that moment, Hitomi fully understood who Yuki Sorimachi was. In that moment, Hitomi fully remembered who she was herself. (13/18) It all came back to Hitomi. Memories of her first game. Out of all players, Hitomi thought she had the most frivolous reason for participating: A friend had invited her. After getting fired from her previous job, Hitomi was searching for a new place to work and joined a game without much thought. Although she was shocked to learn death games actually existed, after giving one a go, she found it surprisingly easy. Hitomi cleared the game without fuss and earned a cash prize that seemed unbelievably large to someone who had been barely scraping by until then. Memories of when she had barreled down the path of a player. Hitomi and her friend had talent. Whenever they took things seriously, they were invincible. The pair were also blessed with good fortune. They found someone early on who agreed to be their mentor and share their expertise. Hitomi and her friend racked up victory after victory and made a killing along the way. They watched plenty of players die, unable to mirror their success, which instilled in them the belief that talent and fortune were everything. Success came down to whether you were lucky enough to stumble upon deals that were almost too good to be true. Whenever Hitomi noticed children coming home from cram school alone late at night or office workers in raggedy suits, she would shoot them a glance and mentally give them kudos for their unyielding efforts. Memories of a harrowing experience. Her friend died. While that was not an unexpected possibility in the world of death games, at the time, Hitomi had been in utter disbelief. That was how frivolously she had been treating things. Apparently, her friend had lost in her thirtieth game. Hitomi learned a painful lesson about the Wall of Thirty, the mysterious phenomenon wherein players’ odds of death spiked dramatically around their thirtieth game. Memories of when she quit being a player. With her thirtieth game approaching, Hitomi determined that it would be impossible to surmount the Wall of Thirty. Only those who had resolved to continue down the path of a player till death were capable of overcoming the obstacle. A half-hearted player like her would face the consequences if she were to confront it head-on. That was why she decided to quit. Upon her retirement, she asked her agent to tinker with her memories. She had a guilty conscience about living on while her friend had died, her attitude about money had gotten warped due to her substantial winnings, and after coming so far, she still felt a lingering attachment to the games, which were almost too good to be true. Unless she forgot about their existence, she believed she would continue playing and fall into ruin. She was convinced she needed to sever her connection to the games. She resolved to start anew and lead an earnest life. At least, that was how it was supposed to go. (14/18) A hand latched onto Hitomi’s shoulder. She fell to the floor. The next thing she saw was a close-up of Yuki’s face; the girl had knocked her off-balance. Lost in a trance, Hitomi could not muster any semblance of resistance. Yet even if she had been in a normal state of mind, she probably would not have resisted. There was no need for her to do so. “—So,” Hitomi said, “you’re a player, huh?” Yuki’s eyes shot open. “You know about the games?” “Yeah. I remembered everything just now.” Hitomi rubbed her left temple, which had started bleeding from Yuki’s kick. The light streaming in from outside illuminated the blood on her palm. The fluid had turned ever so slightly white. Hitomi understood the reason: It was an effect of the Preservation Treatment. Before participating in a death game, players were required to undergo a procedure that eliminated their body odor, prevented their bodies from rotting, and transformed any blood that left their veins into white fluff. In the time since Hitomi had turned her back on her life as a player, and her body replaced its cells, the effects of the Preservation Treatment had gradually faded, but evidently, some still remained. “I was a player until a little while ago,” Hitomi explained. “I almost reached thirty games… But I quit because I didn’t think I could go any further without getting cocky.” Realization dawning on her face, Yuki muttered, “Oh, so you had your memories erased…” Evidently, the girl was aware the organizers had the ability to manipulate memories. “What a coincidence that we go to the same school.” “Seriously.” Hitomi glanced at Yuki’s left hand. “Did you lose a hand?” “Sort of.” Yuki pulled the light cord to brighten the room and showed her left hand to Hitomi. Although it was difficult to perceive, as they were made to resemble normal body parts, three of the girl’s fingers, from her middle finger to her pinkie, were artificial. Yet the light also exposed another truth: Yuki’s eyes, peering out from beneath her bangs, were different colors. The hue of her right eye was fainter than that of her left. “…Your right eye…” “Oh yeah…” Yuki brought her hand above the eye in question. “I forgot to wear my colored contact. That’s how I hide it at school. I messed it up in a game long ago. It’s not causing any major problems for now, at least…” Hitomi glanced over at the closet. Numerous outfits were hanging inside. Although she couldn’t tell the exact number, there were most likely more than thirty sets. The girl also had injured her left hand and right eye. Those two facts served as proof—proof that Yuki had confronted and overcome the Wall of Thirty, which Hitomi had been unable to face. “You’re amazing,” Hitomi said in praise. “You have my respect. I can’t believe you’ve been able to keep playing even after all that.” Yuki fell into an extended silence. Hitomi’s words appeared to have struck a chord in her. While turning off the light, Yuki replied, “I think knowing when to call it quits is an admirable skill, too.” (15/18) After Hitomi left, Yuki tried stretching her back inside her room but quickly stopped after sensing pain in her right side where she had been kicked. While reflecting over how strong her opponent had been, Yuki called her agent. The call connected after one ring. “Yes?” “It’s Yuki. I took care of the situation.” “Is that so?” Her agent sounded somewhat distant. While finding that to be a little odd, Yuki explained about the identity of her stalker: Hitomi Honezuka, a player who had previously had her memories erased by the organizers and was now living as an ordinary member of society. “I see,” her agent replied. “That explains how she was so skilled in martial arts.” Hitomi had used a shoulder throw to defeat Yuki’s agent in a single move and managed to evade Yuki’s detection with masterful tracking skills. The girl must have acquired those techniques during her time as a player. Though her memories had been erased, her muscle memory remained. Hitomi had said she’d nearly reached thirty games, which meant she had been an adept player when she was active in the industry. “Um, there is one other thing,” Yuki said. “I’m not sure how to bring this up…” “What is it?” “She saw inside my closet and discovered my identity as a player. Will that affect my ability to keep going to class?” “…Well, she is a former player. We will need to confirm the facts for ourselves, but I expect there won’t be an issue. You are free to continue attending school.” “That’s a relief. Will anything happen to Hitomi?” “No, not really. She’ll simply continue her life as a student with her regained memories. She may request that the organizers erase her memories once more, but that is not our concern. “However,” Yuki’s agent continued, “if at all possible, I would like for her to forget everything. Especially how she threw me onto the ground…” (16/18) The day after the scuffle at Yuki’s apartment, Hitomi went to school. During the break following first and second periods, she sat down at a cafeteria table with the Amano twins for mealtime. “—I mean, glass cola bottles barely have anything in them, right?” The elder Amano twin, Kazami, was speaking. “It’d be a total rip-off if it’s exactly the same drink as canned cola. That’s why I’m positive cola in glass bottles is made to be tastier. Otherwise, why would anyone buy the glass bottle version?” “No way,” the younger twin, Hiyori, rebutted. “Then how do you explain the two-liter plastic bottles? They’re all made in the same factory, so they’re exactly the same. They only taste different because they’re packaged in different ways.” Directly across from the twins sat Hitomi, silently picking at her meal while watching the argument play out. “Hitomi…” “What do you think?” The twins dragged her into the discussion. “No clue,” Hitomi replied. “But I have heard Mexican cola tastes amazing.” “Huh?” “Really?” Shoot, why did I grab their attention? Hitomi was forced to explain how Mexican cola allegedly tastes better due to being made with pure cane sugar. After the Amano twins resumed their argument about cola, Hitomi looked around the cafeteria. Yuki was nowhere to be seen. That was to be expected, as the girl did not get the school meal. Yuki Sorimachi had been in class during first and second periods. She appeared to be conscious of Hitomi, but they did not exchange any words. Yuki likely considered everything that happened the previous day to be water under the bridge. Hitomi thought she should at least pay for the window repair but found it difficult to bring up. As long as Yuki did not broach the topic herself, Hitomi decided to pretend as if nothing had happened. The mysterious sense of mission she had felt about exposing Yuki Sorimachi’s identity must have resulted from her mind subconsciously realizing Yuki was a player. The world Hitomi had once turned her back on had pulled her back in. Evidently, she still felt a lingering attachment to it. Hitomi had the option to embrace that attachment and return to being a player, but she had decided against that. Although she possessed the talent to be a player, she lacked the resolve to go through with it. Without resolve, she would not be able to follow the path of a player. The wiser decision would be to continue attending school and find a different, brighter path. Hitomi also chose to retain her memories. If she had opted to have them wiped, she might go after Yuki yet again. Beyond that, however, she had matured enough to be able to confront her past. After finishing her meal, Hitomi looked at the Amano twins. The two of them had switched to a different topic. Now they were discussing why people felt an intense desire to eat ice cream when sick with a cold. “I’m glad to be around you two,” Hitomi said. “Where’d that come from?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Take it as a compliment.” (17/18) Upon returning home that day, Hitomi suddenly remembered that during her days as a player, she’d had a mentor by the name of Kirihara. Like Hitomi, Kirihara had also cleared close to thirty games, but she had retired after suffering a major injury and became a guide for new players. Hitomi hadn’t seen her mentor since having her memories erased, but now that she had them back, she was curious as to how Kirihara was doing. I should reach out, she thought. There was no time like the present; Hitomi called her mentor despite it being the middle of the night. Although Kirihara was not in her contacts, Hitomi had memorized her mentor’s home phone numbers. Riiiing… Riiiing… After a few rings, the call connected. “Yes, hello?” The voice did not belong to Kirihara, but it was a familiar one to Hitomi, nonetheless. “Hello,” Hitomi said. “Um… Kokone?” “…Yes, this is Kokone.” I knew it, Hitomi thought. That reminds me, the Amano sisters weren’t the first pair of twins I was acquainted with. “Might you be Hitomi?” Kokone asked. The girl only knew Hitomi from the games, so Hitomi assumed Kokone had just referred to her by her player name, which was pronounced the same as her legal name but spelled with different characters. “Yeah,” Hitomi replied. Kokone responded, “It has been quite a while. Why are you calling this late at night? Wait a second… Did you not have your memories as a player erased?” “Right, well, it’s a long story…” Hitomi decided to spare Kokone the details. “Anyway, I felt a sudden urge to call. Can you put my mentor on the line?” “…………” Kokone didn’t respond. From the lack of noise and voices on other side, it did not seem as if she was calling Kirihara over, either. Hitomi wondered what was going on, but Kokone’s next words pierced her mind like a bullet. “Kirihara—Kanami Kirihara has passed away.” Hitomi was completely bewildered. “It happened last month. I’m afraid you are a little too late.” “Wha…?” It took a few seconds for Hitomi to untangle her tongue. “How? I thought she retired as a player.” “Yes.” “So what happened?” “She was murdered.” Hitomi sensed a hint of rage and frustration in Kokone’s voice. “Would you care to hear the details?” Hitomi did not hesitate in her reply. “Yes, please.” (18/18)