Fuyuichirou Hakaku, Deathgame veteran, retired facilitator and the 18th participant in another classic killing instalment.

My tolerance for being knocked out and having my memories erased only grew with each game, this time the memories flooded back instantly. I assessed my surroundings, a curved frosted glass pane to the front, wires, and tubes strung to my body, the incessant beeping of a heart-rate monitor. I was in a pod, which I could only guess was stolen from the set of a sci-fi movie.

The glass opened and cold mist spilled onto the carpeted floor. It evaporated as I stumbled out revealing a familiar scene, a bedroom crafted to my exact taste. A king-size bed with silk sheets, bookshelves full of novels, a lounge chair to enjoy them in and the finest coffee maker, engineered by the greatest minds of the 21st century. The Gamemaster spared no expense in creating the best environment. I started my pre-game ritual recovering from the grogginess of post-anaesthesia with a swig of black coffee 

Yes, to be a veteran of surviving death, you must be powered by something..

With that universal truth in mind, I exited the room to find the other captives. A framed map of the facility hung on the wall. The cafeteria was where everyone would be, people tend to secure access to food and water before anything, a typical and reliable human behaviour you could count on. I stepped into the hallway and turned around to shut the door, noticing the behemoth structure surrounding it. A giant bank vault wheel, rows of them, side by side, each surrounding a different room. I could rule out breaking and entering as a viable strategy, at least in this game I could sleep peacefully.

I made my way down the stairs, the rhythmic echo of my footsteps helped to soothe my mind while considering strategy. As a facilitator I learned how to play it safe. Stay out of the way. Read people’s intentions, know what’s going to happen before it happens, always manipulate your way out of a situation. And above all, maintain an air of invisibility, let the game play out, and limit interference to maximise entertainment. 

I was the guiding hand for the story but now I was just a normal participant. A relaxing story of friendship and relationships in a game of death awaited, it sounded nice. Let’s all get along.

I pushed the cafeteria doors open and was greeted with strands of black. Ominous, graceful, pulling like gravity. Piercing red eyes. Flowing black hair. A severe aura that froze time, folded arms and furrowed brow that would make the average male student's knees buckle. Her look split my body into atoms and she examined each one. A straight to the point, disdainful tone, there was no gap-moe here, ‘what you see is what you get’.

That summed up the whirlwind before me, Naito Akari. 

Naito Akari

“Where am I? Speak.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“No idea.”

Naito Akari

“Lie.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“Lie?”

Naito Akari

“You walk with disgusting purpose, with not a shred of insecurity on your unimaginative face. It's hard to stomach such a lowly creature having pride.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“Unimaginative...face?”

Naito Akari

“If I were to paint it I’d use only the simplest of shapes, the most basic of lines, and hang it in a gallery I’d like to see closed down.”

Was language constructed to be used in this hurtful way, I wondered. 

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“There was some misunderstanding, I woke up and found myself here. I'm not sure how.  It's reassuring, running into someone else finally. I’m Fuyuichirou Hakaku. Feel free to use my first name if you’d like. No need for honorifics.”

My introduction did little to curb her aggression. She marched towards me and held a finger to my face. It traced down from my chin to a single brown speck on my collar, pushing into my neck, the sharpness of her nail pricking my jugular.

Naito Akari

“When a mouse is trapped it tries desperately to escape, that's their instinct. They squeak and scurry looking for the exit. They don’t stop.That stain on your shirt looks fresh. It's still warm. The texture is sticky, powdery, it's warm to the touch. The smell of coffee. You wake up and your first inclination is to make coffee. And you walk confidently, you don't scurry, the tap of each footstep making a disturbingly calm beat. Suspicious enough, but the biggest tell is your eyes, not one speck of fear. An underwhelming appearance but no mouse-like behaviours. What are you then? ”

Not the first time I had been classed as suspicious but right out of the gate like this was new, she analysed everything down to the smallest detail. Who was this girl? Telling her I was a  coffee fanatic won't cut it. It’s true, I was suspicious, but being suspected this early with such aggressive reasoning was anticlimactic. My only option was to flip the situation.

Naito Akari

“You won’t escape by retreating into what little brain space you have, if you confess right now you’ll avoid the death penalty.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“If we’re discussing suspicious characters wouldn’t you fit the bill more than me? You were here first, waiting for me to show up.”

Naito Akari

“Flipping it around onto me won’t help you.”

I thought it best to keep quiet from there. Experience told me not to respond to accusations, let the accuser exhaust their arguments, leave enough time for self doubt to form like a hook in the brain and pull until they couldn’t take it anymore.  The hook was already forming, she thought I was dangerous but didn't want to leave. If she truly believed in herself 100%, she would have clawed my throat by now. I just needed to pull a little. Minutes passed while she eyed me up and down. Eventually she took to sitting as far away from me as possible. I mirrored her and sat at the opposite end of the cafeteria. She occasionally shot quick glances at me and then looked away. 

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“If I’m so suspicious, why are you still hanging around here?”

Naito Akari

“I won’t be questioned by a kidnapper.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“If I was a kidnapper would I choose such a troublesome victim?”

Naito Akari

“Pervert, you took me to enact your sick fantasies.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“Fantasies? Oh, so that’s what this is about."

The sound of her chair scraping back made my back straighten. Her hand came towards me at such lightning speed, I barely shifted to avoid it. She closed the gap between us in a split second. I was almost the first victim

Naito Akari

“I surveyed the entire place already, with the exception of seventeen dorm rooms and the Observation room which were locked. You’re the first and only living thing I have come across in that time.”

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“How long have you been here?”

Naito Akari

“Based on the clock I see on the screens around here, two days.”

Two whole days is impossible.The last time there was such a discrepancy, the Gamemaster created a rhythm game that blew your head off with a shotgun if you missed even a beat, so his staff could learn the importance of timing.  People wake up at different times depending on their body composition but that should have only accounted for 30 minutes give or take. Something felt off. But it was more important to lessen her uneasiness.

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

“I don’t know where I am or how I got here. You're the only other person I have seen so far.I came from that row of dorm rooms you saw, same as you. There’s two of us, which means there’s sixteen more people to come if each room is occupied."  

Naito Akari

“That much is obvious."

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

"So you accept I'm not a kidnapper?"

Naito Akari

"Strike first and without remorse, if you didn’t kidnap me you are most certainly guilty of something. The stench of criminality cannot be washed off. "

Fuyuichirou Hakaku

"Aren't you taking too many liberties with my reputation?"

She was the perceptive type. I managed to dispel her initial suspicion but she’s aware that I was still someone to be cautious around. The way her gaze held over me, that omnipresent stare. In her mind, I was already in prison and she was the warden, and if I continued to arouse her suspicion my date of execution would be pushed forward. Still, letting a bonding opportunity go to waste seemed truly criminal. If I softened her up, the mistrust would subside I thought. But it looked like that opportunity was going to have to wait.