The ruined classroom reeked of sweat and scorched wiring, its makeshift stage a twisted mockery of a romantic game show, splintered wood and pink paint flaking under the setting sun’s glow. Sakura stirred, her temple throbbing, wrists raw from the ropes that bound her.

  “Sakura! Sakura!” Ichika’s voice cracked, shaking her awake. Beside her, Hinata’s pink pigtails bobbed, her face bruised, wincing at the stinging pain.

  Across the room, Kitaro checked Hanayama’s ID, still glowing faintly. “He’s alive, but out cold.” with a pfft grunt, he hoisted Hanayama over his shoulder, “Is she awake yet, Ichika?”

  “I’m fine, Ichika,” Sakura rasped, rubbing her eyes. Her gaze swept the stage, empty chairs, cables sparking faintly.

  “We got to get out of here,” Kitaro said, Hinata nodding nervously.

  “Be careful.” Sakura scrambled to her feet, she leaned on Ichika for support as blood rushes back to her legs, “thank you”, stumbled away on her own, snatching her fire axe from a pile of scavenged weapons.

  Hinata clutched the door handle, her hand yanking at it, voice trembling. “The door’s locked.”

  Sakura let out a low growl, as she hefted the axe. “Won’t be for long. Where’s Oyama? And Ahmya?”

  She swung, the axe biting wood with a dull thwack. “Ah!” Flakes flew. Another swing. “Ha!” Her arms burned, sweat beading on her brow. “Pfft.” The door splintered, groaning under her blows. With a final heave, it burst open, revealing a dim corridor. The air hit Sakura like a cool breeze as she wiped the sweat off her brow.

  A janitor bot whirred outside the next classroom, Kitaro pushed past the girls, having regained his rebar, wielded it and held Hanayama's body as a shield, “Who out there?” He turned to the janitor bot as a ceiling camera focused on them, he spotted a note pinned to its door.

  Ichika pushes past him, grabbing the note and reads aloud, voice shaking, “Leave us. I’m sorry.” There was more to read but Sakura nudged her aside.

  Sakura raised her axe, ready to smash the next door. “Stay back.”

  A torn manga page’s lay near the door, sparking Sakura’s memory with each swing of a girl bound to a desk, studying open books. She was loner, hard working, never seen angry, never hurt a fly, this game created a monster, a monster to protect her, a voice whispered.

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  Ahmya, violin in hand, played for the class. A missed note, a flinch, her eyes wince then a sigh of relief as she continues playing for everyone. Sakura even remembers Ahmya and Yuma secretly trading romance manga before her. She was a beautiful soul, but couldn’t survive their torment.

  Sakura’s axe froze mid-swing. The door cracked, offering a glimpse of a grim scene inside, a makeshift dining set, dirty plates, gym mats for a bed. Ahmya lay dead, covered with a cloth, clothes askew across the room, one arm around Oyama, his wrist burnt by the earlier ropes, shirtless, a blanket over the pair. Both gone.

  “Fuck,” Sakura choked, axe clattering to the floor.

  Ichika peered over her shoulder, whispering, “Are they dead?”

  Kitaro holds back Hinata, blocking her view. “Don’t look.”

  Sakura swung again, breaking into the room where they both laid, as they entered she looked at the pair, a light smile on both their faces. Sakura approached, knelt beside the bodies, heart pounding.

  Kitaro follows close, he grabs their IDs, muttering, “We could use their points.”

  Hinata takes the note from Ichika, as she fights back tears to continue to read the note from the door, voice breaking, “She didn’t want to die alone, she had not killed anyone, and that she was sorry for what she did to us.” as she struggled to continue “She left a warning too, the food’s poisoned.”

  Rage surged through Ichika. She snatched the axe from Sakura , screaming, “Fuck this! Why, you silly bitch?” Metal flew as she tore into the waiting janitor bot, the ceiling cameras all turned on her, bolts and wiring scattering.

  Sakura stared wide eyed, mouth agape but speechless, her friend, who has never flown off the rails before has lost control.

  “Stop it Ichika!” Kitaro yelled

  Hinata echoing, “What are you doing?”

  Ichika collapsed beside the wrecked bot, sobbing. Sakura and Hinata look at each other before they approach, they knelt either side of her, arms around her.

  Kitaro slung Hanayama over his back. “Bring double tomorrow as repayment for the missed delivery,” he said, heading out.

  Two new janitor bots zipped into the room, the girls watched as Ahmya and Oyama were placed into body bags. Another whirred in to clear the destroyed janitor bot.

  “What do we do?” Hinata whispered.

  Sakura’s voice was firm. “Let’s get you back upstairs. It’s getting dark.” In the corridor, dusk settled.

  Ichika remained muted, her head weighted heavily. Sakura and Hinata helped her up, but she remained unresponsive, except for an unwillingness to drop Sakura’s axe.

  Sakura supported Ichika as they headed down the corridor as Ichika dragged the axe. Hinata trailed behind. “I’ll deliver the Scavs’ supplies tomorrow,” Sakura said, with a hopeful tone “Maybe Ms. Akasuki has news about my brother.”