Three students were running through the forest.

No—to be precise, it was closer to saying they were desperately forcing themselves onward, clinging to life.

Kanji Ike.

Satsuki Shinohara.

Haruki Yamauchi.

Until yesterday, they had been ordinary classmates, the kind you could find anywhere. People who made noise during class, laughed over trivial things, avoided trouble as much as possible, and while complaining about exams and such, were still somehow protected within the cage of school.

But now, it was different.

Their uniforms were soiled with mud and sweat. Their hair was disheveled, their breathing ragged, and not one of them wore a proper expression.

The sunlight filtering through the gaps in the trees was already high, indicating that the second day had advanced considerably. A damp wind rustled the leaves, the soil underfoot was soft, and grass still bearing dew in places wet their shins.

The tranquility of nature and the desperation of the three were jarringly mismatched.

In the forest, gunfire echoed intermittently. Sometimes distant, sometimes near. Sometimes single shots, sometimes bursts. Each time, the three flinched, held their breath, and quickened their pace just a little.

If they stopped, it was over.

Only that recognition forcibly pushed their exhausted bodies forward.

"Hah... hah..."

Shinohara's breathing had long surpassed its limit. Her chest ached. Her throat burned. Her legs were heavy. Every step made her lungs creak and the edges of her vision flicker.

The scene in the warehouse yesterday still wouldn't leave her mind. People were shot. Familiar faces collapsed one after another. Blood flew. Chabashira, without a smile, pulled the trigger impassively.

Perhaps something inside her had already begun to break at that point. After enduring the night, fleeing, unable to sleep, and living in constant fear, both her body and mind were screaming. Yet she had no luxury to examine that carefully.

"Ken..."

Ike, still facing forward, spoke between breaths.

"If we can meet up with Ken... we can still manage..."

Those words were both wishful thinking and self-suggestion.

Ken Sudo. Strong. High physical ability. Good at fighting. At least, he wasn't the type to just cower in fear in such an extreme situation, unlike Ike, Yamauchi, or Shinohara.

That was why the three of them, almost instinctively, sought to rely on Sudo.

If they could join up with him. If he were with them, he might protect them. Even if someone targeted them, they might be able to fight back.

That hope was far too vague to cling to. But even a vague hope was enough to keep them running.

"Where the hell is he!"

Yamauchi let out an irritated voice. His face was etched with fatigue and impatience. His hair clung to his forehead with sweat, his lips were dry, and only his eyes gleamed strangely.

Since yesterday, Yamauchi had been like this. He was frightened. But he didn't want to admit that fear. So he converted it into irritation. If someone stopped, he got angry. If someone complained, he blamed them. If he didn't, he felt he would break.

"Ken..."

Ike said.

"He's gotta be alive somewhere. That guy doesn't go down easy."

"There's no basis for that."

Yamauchi spat out.

"But there's nothing else!"

Ike raised his voice too.

"It's better than splitting up!"

"Just 'cause you say that doesn't mean we'll find him!"

The argument, if left at that, might have just been a release of anxiety. But at that moment, Shinohara's legs finally reached their limit.

"...Ngh, I can't."

A voiceless voice. The next moment, she collapsed on the spot. Strength drained from her knees, and she put both hands on the ground. Her breathing was ragged. Her shoulders heaved, her hair fell over her face.

"Hah... hah..."

She couldn't even form proper words. Her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her own bloodflow roared loudly in her ears.

"Shinohara!"

Ike immediately turned back. He himself was near his limit. But his first reaction to Shinohara's collapse was worry, not irritation.

"Hey, are you okay!?"

Shinohara shook her head.

"...Sorry."

The voice that finally came out was terribly small.

"Just... just a little, I can't..."

Those weak words grated on Yamauchi's nerves.

"Hah?"

Yamauchi turned around. His voice was tinged with blatant irritation.

"What do you mean 'just a little can't'?"

"Yamauchi..."

"This is no time to be saying that!"

Yamauchi's voice echoed through the forest. Shinohara's shoulders flinched.

"If we stop here, it's over!"

"I know..."

Shinohara answered, still looking at the ground.

"I know, but..."

"But nothing!!"

Yamauchi's shout was almost a scream. Ike grimaced.

"Hey, cut it out."

"Cut it out, nothing!"

Yamauchi pointed at Shinohara.

"Our pace is dropping because of her!"

Shinohara's face stiffened at those words.

"It's been like that all along! We're getting more and more in danger because you're slow!"

Ike stepped forward as if to intervene.

"Shinohara's doing her best."

"Doing her best?"

Yamauchi let out a dry laugh.

"She's just sitting there!"

"That's not true!"

Ike said.

"She's come this far with us!"

"So we're gonna drag her along from now on too!?"

Yamauchi's words grew rougher and rougher. It seemed like he was blaming Shinohara, but in truth, it was different. He couldn't endure this situation itself, and unless he made someone the villain, he felt his own feet would stop. The gunfire in the warehouse. The terror of the night. The screams he heard. The reality that people he knew might be dying. Yamauchi was being crushed by all of it.

That was why he blamed Shinohara. If he could make her the source of their delay, he could avert his eyes slightly from the fear and powerlessness he felt.

"...Sorry."

Shinohara said again.

"Sorry, so... just a little..."

"Sorry, sorry, shut up!"

Yamauchi closed in quickly. Before Ike could stop him, Yamauchi grabbed Shinohara's arm.

"Get up!"

"Ow..."

Shinohara's face twisted. Even from looking, it was clear he was gripping her hard. Pulled roughly when she was already utterly exhausted, it was bound to hurt.

"Stop it!"

Ike shouted.

"If you pull her like that—"

"I said walk!!"

Yamauchi didn't listen. He forcibly yanked Shinohara's arm. Shinohara tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. Her knees trembled, and she couldn't brace herself properly.

"You're really useless!"

That single phrase pierced deep into Shinohara's heart. She was scared. She was in pain. She felt pathetic. She herself recognized that she was a burden. She understood that sitting here was dangerous. Yet her body wouldn't obey. And Yamauchi, with no intention of understanding her suffering, just blamed her.

"St... stop it."

Shinohara said in a hoarse voice.

"It really hurts..."

"Then get up!"

He pulled even harder.

It was reflexive. Unable to bear it, Shinohara swung her arm as if to shake him off.

Slap. A dry sound.

Yamauchi's hand was knocked away.

For an instant, the air froze. Ike, Shinohara, and Yamauchi all couldn't move for that one beat.

Then, the next moment, Yamauchi's expression changed. Anger. Humiliation. Fear. All of it mixed together, and the color of his eyes grew horribly clouded.

"...Huh?"

A low voice. The moment he heard it, Ike knew it was bad.

"Yamauchi..."

He called out. But it was too late.

Yamauchi's hand reached for his bag. What he pulled out was a submachine gun called an MP40. The black barrel exuded an eerie presence in the dim forest.

The color drained from Shinohara's face.

"...What?"

Yamauchi aimed the machine gun. The muzzle was pointed straight at Shinohara.

"If you're just gonna be dead weight..."

Yamauchi's voice trembled. Not the trembling of composure. It was the kind of trembling where fear and excitement numbed his very fingertips.

"It's better to kill you here."

"H-Hey."

Ike's voice cracked.

"What are you saying..."

"Shut up!"

Yamauchi yelled.

"We're gonna die because of her too!"

"That's not true!"

Ike stepped forward.

"There's no point in doing that!"

"There is!"

Yamauchi screamed.

"At least it'll be lighter! We won't be slowed down! Even if we look for Sudo, it's impossible dragging her along!"

The logic was insane. But on this island, it couldn't be called completely absurd. That was precisely why it was terrifying.

"Put the gun down."

Ike said. His voice trembled, but he didn't avert his gaze.

"Yamauchi, seriously, stop."

"Then what do we do!?"

"Just don't shoot!"

"You're too soft!"

Yamauchi's finger was on the trigger. Seeing that, Ike reflexively drew his knife. The blade gleamed.

"...Even you."

Yamauchi's eyes widened.

"Ike, even you're pointing that at me?"

"I won't let you kill Shinohara."

Ike said.

"Absolutely."

Ike himself hadn't expected to feel such straightforward anger. He was scared. Yamauchi had a machine gun. In a head-on fight, he was more likely to die. Even so, he felt that if he let Shinohara be shot here, something would end. He didn't know what would end. Perhaps their survival. Perhaps something as human beings. But his instincts screamed that he must not allow this. Perhaps a faint romantic feeling drove him to that conclusion.

Shinohara trembled between the two. The muzzle. The knife. The shouting. She couldn't breathe. Her vision narrowed. Her mind went blank. Only the thought that it was her fault grew oppressively strong.

"I-I get it..."