Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun blazed over a stretch of a tropical coastline. White sand shimmered beneath swaying palm trees, and the ocean was crystal clear. It was a calm, almost perfect sight from afar.

But as the view crept closer, the cracks began to show. Buildings sat weather-worn and neglected, paint peeled in wide, curling strips. Once-blue swimming pools had turned into shallow bogs of algae, and half of the cabanas had collapsed under their own weight.

Down on the beach of the island, front and center, stood a man of average height, smirking to himself. His black hair was slicked back without a strand out of place, and he wore a dark navy button-up and camo green jeans.

"Yo! We're comin' at you live from Jabberwock Island!" he shouted, arms spread wide. "Somewhere off the coast of Osaka!" His grin widened. "I'm your host, Chris McLean, dropping season one of the hottest, harshest, most humiliating reality show on television… right now!"

The camera cut to the hotel behind him. Below it, the pool water sat still and murky, Chris strolling beside it, completely unbothered. "Here's the deal," he said. "Twenty-four campers have signed up to spend the next eight weeks right here at this crappy, abandoned beach resort."

The shot zoomed in on his smug face. "Where they'll compete in challenges against each other, and every three days, have to vote one of their own off this island."

Cut to the far end of the beach. A rickety wooden pier jutted into the sea, barely holding together as a small boat bobbed lazily at its side.

Chris popped up from the bottom of the frame. "Losers get the boot, the boat, and a one-way ticket outta here." He pulled himself fully into view, brushing sand from his shirt. "And in the end? Only one camper will be left standing to claim a small fortune, which, let's face it, they'll probably blow in a week."

He held up a metal briefcase packed tight with cash, then snapped it shut and tossed it behind him. "To survive, they'll have to battle the blazing sun, terrible food, and, most importantly, each other."

The feed jumped to a series of shaky, hidden camera shots. One nestled high in a tree. Another wedged under the dock. A third clumsily duct-taped to a palm tree trunk. "And every second of drama will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras we've rigged all across this island."

Chris widened a grin at the camera. "So the big question is… who will crumble under the pressure?"

He threw out his arms as a deep drumroll kicked in. "Find out, right here, right now, on Total… Drama… Island!"

EPISODE #1—NOT SO HAPPY CAMPERS, PART 1

"And… cut!"

The camera pulled back, and crew members stepped out from behind lights and monitors, tugging off headsets and setting equipment aside.

Chris groaned, yanking at his collar. "We got fifteen minutes, people! Someone get me a damn coffee!"

A boy rushed in from offscreen, nearly tripping over a coil of cable. He was short, with spiky brown hair and hazel eyes, his staff polo hung a little loose on his frame. A cup trembled in his hand as he skidded to a stop. "Here, s-sir!" he stammered. "Extra sugar and cream with hazelnut! Just how you like it."

Chris snatched the cup without looking at him. He popped the lid and downed half of it in one long gulp, then his phone buzzed. Chris glanced at the screen and scowled. "Ugh, producers. This'll be fun." He was already walking off. He disappeared around the corner, muttering something to himself the boy missed.

The boy stood alone, his shoulders sagging. He let out a slow breath and looked toward the water, watching as the ocean stretched wide and still, the horizon glowing under the afternoon sun. "…This is really happening," he said softly.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. His hands felt lighter than it should. He gave a small, crooked smile. Then he looked back out at the sea, and something in his expression shifted.

"Naegi!"

He turned. A crew member waved at him from across the sand. "Get the hell over here, we gotta set up the next few shots!"

"Coming!" Naegi turned and jogged back toward the production tents. Behind him, crew members moved back and forth across the beach of Jabberwock Island, working fast to reset the set.

Naegi jogged across the beach, dropping to one knee beside a light stand and started plugging in wires.

"Hey, careful with that," a brunette intern called over. "If it shorts out, we'll be replacing the whole thing."

"Right, right! Got it, sorry!" Naegi replied quickly.

The intern came over, tugged the light into place, and glanced toward the dock before shooting a look back at Naegi.

Nearby, a faint piano note played from a portable keyboard. A blonde intern sat cross-legged on a crate, humming softly into a headset mic while checking levels.

"Give him a break," the blonde said, her tone easy. "Just keep it steady and it'll be fine."

The brunette rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Naegi stood up straighter, relieved. "Thanks…"

Farther down the beach, a pale intern in a cap adjusted the focus on a handheld camera. He leaned into the viewfinder, muttering to himself. "Dock looks centered… tide line stable… yeah, this'll work."

Footsteps crunched over the sand as Chris strolled back onto set, lowering the phone in his hand to his side. "Alright, we ready to go, or do I need to waste another hour of my life?" he asked flatly. The interns traded glances but didn't say a word.

Chris headed straight to his mark at the end of the dock, where he fixed his collar and faced the camera. A cameraman lifted one hand, and the crew snapped to attention and stepped out of the frame.

He counted down silently. Five. Four. Three. Two. He points.

Chris grinned at the camera. "Welcome back to Total Drama Island! Alright, it's time to meet our first few campers." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with a smirk. "Quick heads up for all you watching back in America, our cast is predominantly Japanese. So if their names sound a little funny, that's probably why." He chuckled.

Just off-camera, the mostly Japanese crew shared a round of irritated looks. Chris didn't notice, or just didn't care.

In the distance, a small ferry cut through the waves, speeding toward the dock. Chris squinted at the approaching boat. "And here comes our first camper now—" He blinked, eyes widening. "What is she doing?"

The camera swung to catch the action. A tall, athletic young woman with tanned skin and a loose fitting white shirt grabbed her luggage. But instead of waiting for the ferry to stop, she sprinted straight toward the edge of the boat and jumped.

"Woah!" Chris shouted, stumbling back.

She flew through the air and landed hard on the dock, the wood creaking under her as she came to a stop after a few feet. But she didn't flinch as her feet finally planted, instead throwing up her arms in triumph. "Yeah! Nailed it!" she yelled, grinning wide as she laughed and put her hands on her hips. "Man, did you see that?! That was—"

She paused; Chris was crouched low to the ground with his hands over his head. "Uh… you good, dude?" she asked, tilting her head.

He jumped up, brushing sand off his shirt. "What? Yeah! Yeah, totally!" He forced a laugh then coughed into his fist, before turning to the camera. "Anyway, meet our first camper: Owari!"

"Thanks, man," she said, still grinning. She looked around. "Place looks sick!" Then she glanced back at him. "So when do we start?"

Chris chuckled. "Oh, don't worry. We'll kick things off… after everyone else arrives."

Owari groaned. "For real?"

"Yeah, sorry, but that's kinda what happens when you get here early," he said with a shrug. "I'd probably make myself comfortable. We've got a lot of people to get through."

"This suuuuuucks," she said, throwing her hands up. "Ughhh!" She grabbed her luggage and dragged it toward the waiting area near the beach, grumbling under her breath.

The next boat pulled in smoothly this time, the dock dropping with a quiet thud. A tall, thin figure stepped onto the dock. Most of their face was hidden behind a cloth mask, long hair spilling down their back. Their outfit looked like a strange mix of military gear.

Chris faltered mid-sentence. "...Uh. Okay. That's… unique."

The newcomer gave a polite bow. "Greetings. My name is Shinguji. It is my utmost honor to meet you."

Chris stared, confused. "Right. Uh, quick question. What's with all…" He waved a hand at Shinguji's outfit. "...this?"

Shinguji stood tall. "This garb is a reflection of the beauty of cultures long past. Each piece is inspired by various ceremonies which—"

"Yeah, nevermind. Moving on," Chris said, already turning away. He motioned toward the beach without looking back. Shinguji showed no reaction, picking up his bag and walking off the dock in silence. Chris shivered and turned away. "Weirdo."

On the sand, Owari sat cross-legged, lazily tossing pebbles into the water. Her expression was bored. She looked up as Shinguji approached. "…The hell are you supposed to be?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shinguji tilted his head. "Merely a competitor of this little game. And you?"

"Hungry. And bored," she muttered.

His eyes glinted behind the mask. "Ah… hunger and boredom. Two of the most primal conditions. How… delightful."

Owari made a face. "...Okay, freak. Whatever." She flopped onto her back with a groan.

The next boat eased up to the dock. A blonde girl strutted down the dock with a confident bounce in her step, her twin pigtails swaying with each movement. She waved at the camera, a pink suitcase rolling behind her. "What's up, island people? Enoshima in the house!" she called out.

Chris grinned. "Nice entrance. You planning to bring that energy every day?"

She smirked and gave a shrug. "Guess we'll just have to see."

Chris chuckled. "Well, the cameras love you already. Welcome aboard."

She gave him a playful salute and dragged her suitcase across the sand. She stopped near the other two contestants. "Sooo, what's up, guys? Ready to party or what?"

Owari didn't look up. She tossed another pebble into the ocean. "No partying yet, 'cause we're still waaaaaaaaiting," she groaned. "Can't this move a little faster?!"

Enoshima cringed slightly at the whining. She glanced toward the other person nearby, who didn't turn to look at her. "Conversation is unnecessary until all required parties have arrived," Shinguji said quietly.

Enoshima blinked. Her smile slipped for half a second. She looked between them both, then let out a short, forced laugh. "Oookay, cool. Love the vibes…"

A deep horn echoed across the water as the next ferry drove away, the shadow of a massive figure stretching out across the dock, an enormous suitcase in one hand like it weighed nothing. His wild hair flared in every direction as he planted both feet on the dock, the wood groaning under his weight.

Chris instinctively stepped back. "Whoa."

The boy stood tall, broad-chested and powerful. For a second, he looked like he'd walked out of a kaiju movie.

But then his expression shifted. "Oh! Gonta is so sorry!" he said quickly, bowing low.

The motion nearly knocked Chris off balance. Gonta caught him gently, placing massive hands on his shoulders and straightening him with surprising care.

"There you go, good as new! All is well." He smiled, then adjusted his posture and bowed again. "Thank you for accepting Gonta's application to compete, Mr. McLean! Gonta is very, very happy to be here! And, again, very sorry."

Chris cleared his throat, trying to look unfazed. "Scare me? Nooo, pfft, not at all. Totally chill." He threw up a quick thumbs-up. "All good, Gokuhara… or… Gonta? Whatever you prefer."

"Gonta works just fine for Gonta!" the boy said, beaming. "Haha! That's silly wording. Gonta's mistake!"

Chris gave a shaky laugh. "Y-Yeah… yeah…"

Still smiling, Gonta lifted his huge bag and carried it onto the sand. He headed toward the waiting area, where Owari was sprawled out lazily. She looked up as he approached, her eyes widening. "Holy crap, dude, you're huge!"

"Thank you!" Gonta said cheerfully.

The next ferry pulled into the dock, and a booming voice rang out across the water. "Good day to you, Mr. McLean!" A boy in a crisp uniform landed on the dock with a thud. He snapped into a perfect salute. "My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru! It is my honor to participate in this esteemed competition!"

Chris raised an eyebrow and gave the camera a knowing look. He smirked as Ishimaru marched forward. "Sir, yes sir!" Chris said with snicker. "Gotta say, love the energy, dude. Think you can keep that up for eight weeks straight?"

"But of course!" Ishimaru boomed. "Rest assured, my passion for this competition shall ring true until the bitter end!" He pointed dramatically. "I shall not let you down, Mr. McLean!"

Chris laughed. "Guess we'll see about that. Alright, soldier boy, get moving."

Ishimaru jogged off the dock toward the others gathered on the beach. Then he stopped short, his eyes going wide. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Owari was clinging to Gonta's arm, laughing as she tried to drag him into the sand. "Come on, big guy, just one round! Lemme see if I can take you!" she shouted.

Gonta smiled politely, confused. "Oh… Gonta thought this was just… friendly hug?"

"It's called wrestling, my dude," Owari growled, pulling harder. "And I'm… going… to… beat you at it!" Gonta didn't move; he wasn't resisting, but he also wasn't budging, and it showed as Owari began to turn red with strain.

Ishimaru rushed forward, pointing. "Cease this foolish roughhousing at once! This is not remotely acceptable conduct!"

Owari didn't even look at him. She kept pulling at Gonta, who gave a small, apologetic shrug. Enoshima leaned back on her suitcase, watching with a grin. "Chill out, hall monitor," she said. "They're just messing around."

Ishimaru spun to face her, eyes blazing. "I shall not 'chill' when safety is at stake, madam!"

Enoshima rolled her eyes. "Whatever, man."

The next boat pulled up not long after. A boy with pink-dyed hair and a flashy mechanic's jumpsuit hopped down the dock, flashing a sharp-toothed grin.

Chris stepped forward and slapped his hand. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Soda!"

"Yo! Glad to be here, dude!" Soda said.

"Good to have you," Chris replied. "Diggin' the look."

Soda snapped his fingers and gave a wink. "Thanks, man."

He slung his bag over one shoulder and started across the sand, stopping in front of the others and striking a relaxed pose. "Sup, everyone? Soda's the name, chillin's my game. Just a laid-back guy ready to, y'know, keep it cool and—"

He let out a sudden scream as Ishimaru shot forward like a missile.

"What is the meaning of this hair?!" Ishimaru shouted, pointing like Soda had broken the law. He grabbed a loose strand and studied it closely. "Such colors violate every known standard of personal hygiene! How does one bathe so little it becomes like this?!"

Soda blinked, let out a nervous laugh, and held up his hands. "Uh, what, this? Nah, man, it's cool! Just some dye! Nothin' big—"

Ishimaru gasped again. "And those teeth!" He pointed at Soda's unusually sharp molars. "Have you been… filing them? What would your dentist say?!"

Soda took a step back, starting to sweat. "Chill, chill!"

A motorboat sped toward the dock, music blasting from a speaker strapped to the driver's seat. As soon as the boat bumped the pier, a girl launched herself into the air, landing in a perfect lunge and flipping her hair with dramatic flair. A guitar case swung from her shoulder, her rolling suitcase thudding onto the dock behind her.

Chris grinned. "And this is—"

"WAIT! Stop stop stop!" the girl shouted, throwing her hands up. "Ibuki demands control of this intro!"

Chris stopped mid-sentence. His smile dropped into a flat stare. With a sigh, he waved a hand. "...Fine. Knock yourself out."

She bounced on her toes, eyes wide. "Yesss! Okay, drumroll, please!"

She slapped her thighs in rapid rhythm, mimicking a snare roll.

"I!" she shouted, pointing at herself. "Buki!" She air-guitared with a loud TWANG! from her mouth. "Mio!" She threw devil horns into the sky. "Da!" She jumped high, then landed in a wide-legged power pose. "Put it together and what do you get?!"

She raised both arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Ibuki Mioda!"

Silence followed. The other campers stared.

After a long pause, Gonta gave a polite clap. Enoshima snorted and joined in. The rest gave scattered, unsure applause.

Ibuki beamed, completely unfazed. "NAILED it!" She trotted down the dock, dragging her luggage, and dropped it in the sand beside the others.

A short boy stomped down the dock, dragging a sleek suitcase behind him. His glare cut across the dock, but he didn't look at Chris as he gestured toward him. "Say hello to—"

"Save it. Don't care," the boy snapped.

Chris blinked. "...Cool."

The boy marched past him and stopped in front of the others, crossing his arms. "Listen up, assholes. The name's Kuzuryu, and let's make this real simple: you stay outta my way, I'll stay outta yours. Got it?"

Enoshima raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as she lounged on her suitcase and smirked. "Wow," she said, mocking. "Real tough talk from someone I could literally punt across the beach."

Kuzuryu's face turned red. His fists clenched. "What the fuck did you just say to me, you little bitch?!"

Enoshima didn't flinch. "Pretty sure being little is your thing, shortie."

Shinguji stepped forward calmly. "Now, now. There's no need for conflict… yet. Two fascinating creatures should not waste their energy so early. Save it for when the true nature of the competition reveals itself."

There was a pause. Enoshima and Kuzuryu both took a step back, enough to stop things from escalating.

Kuzuryu grumbled. "Whatever. Don't bother me." He stalked a few feet away and stood with his back to the group.

Enoshima turned to Shinguji with a glare. "And why the hell did you feel the need to step in?"

Shinguji placed a finger to his chin. "Kuzuryu… hm. An interesting name." He gave a small shrug. "Perhaps that's a heritage worth pondering."

Enoshima blinked. She glanced over at Kuzuryu, who stood off to the side, still sulking. And after a moment, there was a flicker of recognition. She frowned but said nothing, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Ishimaru groaned, rubbing his temples. "Unbelievable. The lack of discipline among this group is astounding."

Soda tried to laugh it off. "I mean, yeah, everyone's been a little… intense, huh?"

Ishimaru turned, pointing at him. "You are not exempt, Soda! Your appearance ALONE is still in violation of acceptable standards!"

Soda slumped. "Man, I can't win with you, can I?"

"Behold! Your guide to the stars has arrived!"

A motorboat tore through the waves, kicking up a spray of foam behind it. Before it had fully slowed, a boy leapt off the edge with a suitcase in hand. His purple jacket flared behind him like a cape as he hit the pier hard, landing in a wide stance with one arm pointed toward the sky.

Chris smirked at the camera. "And that makes eleven. Momota, folks!"

The boy's grin faded. He dropped his suitcase with a thud and marched up to Chris, looking annoyed. "Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" he said. "That's how you introduce a hero of the cosmos?! With that tiny little voice?! Totally unacceptable! You gotta project! Put some backbone into it, like a real man!"

Some of the girls in the group cringed at how he phrased that. Enoshima in particular raised an eyebrow and muttered something under her breath.

Chris only grinned wider. "Thanks for the tip, champ," he said flatly.

The boy glared at him a moment... then Momota burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "Hahaha! No problem, man! Don't worry, I'll let you off this time. We'll work on it, yeah?"

He slung the suitcase over his shoulder and stepped onto the sand, grinning as he reached the rest of the group. "So! You guys ready for a kick-ass summer?! 'Cause I sure am!"

Owari perked up. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Momota slammed his fist into his palm. Owari did the same. The two of them were fired up instantly.

The rest of the campers exchanged glances as Ishimaru pinched the bridge of his nose.

The next boat pulled in not long after. A pale girl stepped off, her long pigtails swaying behind her. She wore a red school uniform and carried herself with quiet resolve unlike those thus far.

Chris stepped forward. "Harukawa, glad you could join us. Was the ride here good?"

"…Yeah," she said, barely above a whisper.

Chris leaned in a little, still smiling. "That's it? No 'happy to be here,' no 'wow, what a great island'?"

Harukawa answered flatly. "No."

Chris blinked, then gave a short hum and let it go. "Okay. Someone's fun at parties."

She didn't respond, instead grabbing her suitcase and starting across the sand without looking at anyone. Still, a couple of campers approached, trying to break the ice.

"Hey, name's Enoshima," Enoshima said with a friendly smile.

"Harukawa," she replied. "You'd know that if you were paying attention." Enoshima's smile froze for a second, then she gave a dry laugh and stepped aside.

Ibuki bounced up next, grinning wide. "Whoa, you've got totally cool vibes!"

"No, I don't," Harukawa said, deadpan.

Ibuki froze mid-bounce, her grin faltering. "...Yikes. Okay then."

From a few feet away, Kuzuryu let out a low snicker. He looked up from where he was sitting on the beach. "What's with the cold shoulder?" he said. "You plannin' to kill us all in our sleep or somethin'?"

Harukawa turned her head and stared straight at him. "Do you want me to?" she asked.

Kuzuryu tensed. For once, he had no quick reply. After a beat, he snorted and looked away. "Whatever," he muttered.

The next boat pulled up, and from it stepped a tall, very heavyset boy with neatly combed blond hair and glasses. His uniform was spotless, pressed tight against his frame without a single wrinkle in sight.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but the boy walked right past him without a glance.

"Listen, and listen well," he said loudly. "My name is Byakuya Togami of the Togami Corporation. Consider this your one chance to leave this competition before it begins. The outcome is already decided. My victory is assured. To remain would only waste everyone's time."

He adjusted his glasses, and the sunlight flashed across the lenses. The other campers looked at each other. No one looked impressed. A long silence followed.

Soda scratched his head. "Wow. He's got a… presence, to be sure."

Enoshima snorted. "Yeah. A pretty large one." She gestured toward his frame, not bothering to hide it.

Togami turned his head sharply and smirked. "Largeness is power, not that I expect one as skinny as you to understand that." He slapped a hand against his stomach. "This body is proof of my superior station. It is nourished on cuisine you couldn't even name. I am the culmination of wealth, status, and dominance over all who dare oppose me! You may mock my size, but compared to your pitiful frames, I am monumental."

He gave a proud huff, and his glasses flashed again. The group stared.

Owari burst out laughing, holding her stomach. Ibuki joined in, laughing just as hard, the two wrapping around each other.

Ishimaru's face turned red as he struggled to hold back his outrage. "Such arrogance is completely unacceptable!" he shouted. "Apologize this instance!"

Togami remained calm. "Of course the rabble would be offended by the truth."

Without another word, he turned and stomped across the sand. He picked a spot far from the others, dropped his bag beside him, and sat down with his chin lifted high, as if no one else was worth noticing.

Chris looked back at the group and rolled his eyes. "What's even the point of me being here when half these kids introduce themselves?"

"Look out below, you fucking virgins!"

A jetpack sputtered wildly as a girl came crashing down toward the dock. She slammed onto the planks in an abrupt skid, tumbling into a heap. Her suitcase, tied to the jetpack with rope, crashed down a second later. It missed Chris by inches.

He scrambled back, face twisted in panic. "You almost hit me!"

The girl sat up with a wild grin. "Oh, I know. I was this close, too!"

Chris twitched. "...Unbelievable."

She bounced to her feet, brushing herself off. With zero shame, she struck a smug, exaggerated pose. "The name's Iruma! The smartest person you'll ever meet, the hottest piece of ass on this island, and the future genius who's gonna change the freakin' world!"

Enoshima burst out laughing and clapped. "Yesss, get it, queen!"

Iruma glanced her way, then turned toward Owari with a sly grin. "Daaaamn. Between me and you two and your raw sex appeal, people are gonna need seatbelts around here."

Enoshima's laughter stopped. Both girls stared at her, unamused. Owari's voice came out low, her smile dropping. "...The hell did you just say?"

Iruma snorted. "Heh. Touchy much?"

A quiet motorboat hummed as it drifted toward the dock. From it stepped a small figure with long auburn hair tucked under a pointed wizard's hat. She pulled a modest suitcase behind her, decorated with tiny charms and old, faded stickers. She paused at the edge of the dock, let out a soft sigh, then slowly shuffled forward.

Chris gestured toward her. "Everyone, this is Yumeno."

Yumeno raised one hand in a slow, lazy wave. "...Greetings," she said. "The most magnificent mage the world has ever seen has arrived." She yawned and slouched. "Thank you for summoning me, Mr. Host. I guess this is a good place for magic… if the mana flow is decent."

She dragged her suitcase a few steps across the sand, then sat down cross-legged on the beach. The rest of the group exchanged confused glances.

Soda scratched his head. "She's way more chill than I expected," he muttered.

Yumeno didn't look up. "This is just my natural aura. I try to conserve my energy for spells."

Ibuki bounded forward, eyes wide with excitement. "Spells?! Yooo, you gonna show us, like, a magic trick or something?!"

Yumeno's eyes narrowed, her voice firm despite the tired tone. "They're not tricks. They're real. But… only when the time is right. Which is not now. Obviously." She gave her wizard hat a small tug. "Anyway… let's all try to get along. Or don't. Whatever."

Ibuki blinked, then shrugged. The others stayed quiet, watching her with uncertain expressions.

The camera cut back to Chris, lounging smugly on the dock. Suddenly, there was a loud clatter as a suitcase slammed down onto the planks beside him. A boy was standing there, as if he had appeared out of thin air. A long scarf hung from his shoulders, and his dark coat shifted gently in the sea breeze.

Chris staggered back. "What! H-how the hell did you…? Uh, you're…" He snapped his fingers, fumbling. "Ummm…"

The boy folded his arms and smirked. "Kehehe… You wish to know my name? Such courage could be mistaken for recklessness. But I welcome it."

With a dramatic sweep of his hand, he stepped forward. "In honor of your bravery, I shall reveal it to you. Remember it well, for it is the name that shall one day rule this world!"

He thrust a finger at the camera, eyes blazing. "You may call me… Gundham Tanaka! SUPREME OVERLORD OF ICE!" He threw his head back and let out a booming laugh that echoed down the dock.

Chris stared at him, blinking. "...Oh my god, he's just a dork." Snapping back into host mode, he forced a grin. "Yeah, great, cool name. Go join the others, freakshow."

Tanaka swept onto the sand, dragging his suitcase behind him as if guided by invisible forces. He stopped just short of the group and raised his hand as if casting a spell. "Hear me and hear me well, mortals! Do not dare intrude upon my domain, lest you be cast into oblivion!"

Most of the group exchanged glances and silently agreed to give him space. Unfortunately, not everyone agreed.

"Now hold it right there, mister!" Ishimaru snapped. "I am frankly getting quite sick of my peers making the decision to distance themselves from the group." He shot sharp glances at Kuzuryu, Harukawa, and Togami. "Such behavior is intolerable in a game where we must understand one another!"

Tanaka let out a mocking laugh. "Foolish insect! To think you can demand something of one such as I?! Your audacity only amuses me further!"

Ishimaru looked ready to fire back, but Momota stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Drop it, Ishimaru. Don't waste your energy."

Ishimaru stiffened, but backed off. Tanaka narrowed his eyes at Momota, then smirked. "Hm. Wise words. Tell me, fool… do you carry a name worthy of respect, unlike this so-called 'Ishimaru'?"

"You dare shame the Ishimaru name!" Ishimaru growled, his face turning red, and only getting redder when his comment is ignored.

Momota grinned and stepped forward. "Damn right I do!" He thumped his chest and threw his arms wide. "I am the great Kaito Momota! Luminary of the Stars!"

Tanaka laughed. "Hilarious! Truly, deafeningly humorous indeed! A pathetic title, but bold posturing nonetheless!"

"Ain't posturing if it's the truth, bub," Momota shot back with a smirk.

Tanaka chuckled again, but there was a faint glimmer of respect in his eyes. Without another word, he dragged his suitcase to a shadowed corner of the beach and settled there, clearly choosing to keep his distance. Nonetheless, Ishimaru glared after him, fists clenched at his sides.

A motorboat glided up to the dock, and from it stepped a pale girl holding a lace-trimmed parasol above her head to shield herself from the sun. Her black-and-white Gothic Lolita dress swayed with every step, and a small rolling suitcase followed quietly behind her.

Chris blinked, staring longer than he should have. The girl tilted her head. "You are supposed to introduce me, are you not?"

Chris snapped out of it. "Huh? Oh, right, right! Uh, this is—"

"Celestia Ludenberg," she said, cutting him off with a faint smile. "Though I would prefer if you all simply call me… Celeste." She dipped into a graceful curtsy.

A faint stir passed through the group, their eyes followed her as she stood upright again. Then Shinguji's voice broke the quiet. "Ludenberg…" he said, leaning forward. "A most curious name for one who is so clearly Japanese." He stepped closer, gaze intent. "Tell me, is it truly yours?"

Celeste laughed lightly and covered her mouth. "But of course. Celeste is my real name. I do hope I've made that perfectly clear."

Shinguji's eyes glinted with interest. "Fascinating." He reached for her hand and gave a formal bow. "Well then, it is most definitely an honor to meet you, Miss Celeste," he said. "I greatly look forward to getting to know you…"

Several campers exchanged quiet, uneasy looks. Celeste's expression stayed composed, though her eyes twitched just slightly. Without answering, she swept past him with her parasol still poised high. The camera lingered on her calm smile, while across from her, Shinguji continued to watch with quiet fascination.

A sputtering motorboat limped toward the dock, coughing out thick smoke as it crawled along at a slow pace. When it finally bumped into the wooden edge, a tall, scruffy boy climbed out, his dreadlocks hanging unevenly around his face and a ragged poncho over his shoulders.

He gave a lazy wave and grinned. "Yo! Name's Yasuhiro Hagakure, but you can just call me Hiro!"

Across the sand, Celeste stopped mid-step. Her smile faltered, and her fingers tightened around the handle of her parasol. She said nothing, but her eye twitched slightly as she slowly turned toward his presence.

Togami adjusted his glasses, frowning. "...Did a bum wander onto the boat?" A few contestants laughed.

Chris stepped forward, arms wide in disbelief. "Okay, no way this guy's a teenager!"

Hiro laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah, that's 'cause I'm not. I'm twenty-one!"

Chris's jaw dropped. "Then what the hell are you doing here?!"

"The form only said you had to be in high school," Hiro said, still smiling. "And, uh… I totally am. Got held back a couple times, so it still counts, right?"

Celeste muttered under her breath, voice low and sharp. "Abusing a loophole to play… truly devious. Utterly despicable…"

Chris rubbed his face. "Fine. Whatever. Not like I can do anything about it now… even if you do smell like a dumpster. Just… get outta my sight."

"Sweet, thanks man," Hiro said.

He strolled onto the sand, his suitcase thumping behind him. Celeste's eyes followed him the entire way, her gaze burning with quiet hate.

A boat pulled up to the dock, catching everyone's attention. Soda's eyes went wide the second he saw the passenger. He gasped loudly.

Chris raised a brow, grinning. "And now, introducing our representative of the Kingdom of, uh… Novo-sell-ick? Novo-sillic?"

The girl stepped gracefully onto the dock, clasping her hands as she faced the group. "It is a true honor to be here with all of you. I am Sonia Nevermind, Princess of the Novoselic Kingdom. I look forward to this experience tremendously."

She stepped off the dock as if walking across polished marble. Soda scrambled toward her, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to meet her. He thrust out his hand. "H-h-hi! I'm Soda! If you ever need anything, like, anything at all, I'd be more than happy to—"

But Sonia didn't look at him, as instead her eyes drifted past toward the shade of a palm tree nearby. Tanaka sat beneath it, cross-legged, his scarf rippling in the breeze.

Sonia's face lit up with interest. She walked past Soda without a word, leaving him frozen mid-sentence. "Good day," she said warmly. "Might I introduce myself?"

Tanaka's eyes snapped open. His voice exploded with theatrical force. "Foolish girl! Begone at once, lest you invoke my wrath and be cast into eternal darkness!"

Soda yelped. He rushed between them, arms outstretched. "H-hey, back off, scarf-boy! Don't you daretalk to her like that!"

Tanaka turned his glare on him. "You dare speak to me in such a manner, fool? Then you too shall be swallowed by the abyss, insolent insect!"

Soda went pale. Sonia calmly raised one hand and stepped between them. "Gentlemen, please. There is no need for conflict."

Tanaka stared at her, and after a long pause, he lowered his hand. "Hmph. You are fortunate I'm in a well enough mood, foolish girl. Were it not so, you and this buffoon would already be reduced to red puddles upon this beach."

Sonia gave a small nod. "Then I shall take that as a compliment." She turned and walked back toward the group without another word.

Soda stumbled after her, nearly skipping to keep up. He glanced nervously over his shoulder at Tanaka. Back under the tree, Tanaka closed his eyes once more and let out a quiet, dark laugh.

A girl marched down the dock with her head held high. Her braid bounced behind her with each step. "And up next, give a warm welcome to—" Chris began, reaching out a hand.

In one swift motion, she grabbed his wrist, flipped him over her shoulder, and slammed him flat onto the dock. Chris hit the planks with a hard thud, the air knocked out of him.

"A-aghh?! What the—" he gasped.

She stood over him, finger pointed. "You think you can touch me without permission?! Think again, creep!"

The entire group stared in silence, with Owari breaking it with loud cheers and laughter. From the sand, Sonia called out nervously, "M-Miss, I believe that's actually the host."

The girl blinked, then let go of Chris. "...Oh." Chris rolled onto his side, still groaning. She crossed her arms and huffed. "Sorry about that. But y'know, if you think about it, that was kinda on you for looking so sketchy in the first place that I assumed you were going for something like that."

"...Yeah, great apology… thanks, Chabashira…" Chris muttered.

Chabashira stomped off the dock, her suitcase rattling behind her. She stopped in front of Owari, who met her with a wide grin. "Yo! That flip was awesome! You gotta show me how to do that!"

Chabashira lit up. "Of course! I'd love to!"

Momota edged closer, clearly impressed. "Yeah, that was awesome! I'd also love—"

Chabashira turned and glared. Her voice went cold. "Back off." Momota froze and jumped back. Owari cracked up laughing.

Off to the side, Yumeno sat cross-legged in the sand, eyes on the ocean. She rubbed at her face. "Nyeh… can you keep it down?" she said, flatly.

Chabashira spun around. The moment she saw Yumeno, her face turned bright red. She clasped her hands together and nearly dropped to her knees. "O-oh! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!" she said quickly.

Yumeno gave a shrug. "It's whatever. Just please—"

"I didn't mean to disturb you, I promise!" Chabashira said, bowing again and again. "If there's something I can do for you to make it up, just say the word!"

Yumeno scowled. "Hmm…" The camera lingered on Yumeno turning away with a tired sigh, while Chabashira hovered beside her, still apologizing.

The hum of a motorboat grew louder as it pulled up to the dock. A girl with long lavender hair stepped calmly onto the planks wearing a blazer over a collared shirt and skirt, a small suitcase rolling behind her.

Chris called out, "And here comes Kirigiri! What's up?" She walked straight past him without a word. Her eyes stayed forward. Chris blinked, caught off guard. "Great," he muttered. "Love to hear it."

Kirigiri stepped off the dock and stopped just a few feet from the others. She folded her arms neatly, her posture straight and still. Her eyes moved slowly over the group, analyzing.

Soda leaned toward Sonia and whispered, "...Is she, uh… okay?"

Sonia gave a soft smile. "Maybe she just needs time."

Kirigiri said nothing. Her eyes flicked from face to face, quiet and precise. Her gaze lingered on Togami. He noticed right away and smirked. "Inspecting our competition, are we?" he said, adjusting his glasses.

Kirigiri turned to him. "And you are?" she asked.

"Byakuya Togami, in the flesh," he said with a huff.

She raised one eyebrow. "Interesting…" Her eyes moved over him. "Quite the family name to carry. If I recall, your clan's 'inheritance' event was resolved recently. The youngest son won." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Since you still carry the name, I assume that son was you."

Togami's smirk widened. He looked pleased. "You've done your homework," he said. "Were you expecting someone of my prestige to compete?"

"No," Kirigiri said. "But it's always best to prepare for any possibility." She tilted her head, studying him again. "Although," she added, "you don't quite match how he was described."

Togami waved it off. "Peasants tend to get the facts wrong more often than not."

Kirigiri looked at him for a moment longer. Then she turned her gaze back toward the water. Togami smirked again, though his fingers tapped quietly against the handle of his suitcase.

A small, beat-up motorboat puttered toward the dock, and a very short boy in a black cap and striped uniform hopped off, dragging a scuffed suitcase behind him.

Chris grinned. "Hoshi. Dude!"

"…Yeah. That's me," the boy said. He looked around the beach, unimpressed. "Hmph. Pretty underwhelming."

Chris smirked. "Well, hey, if you don't feel like competing, I'm sure your parole officer would love a call. Bet they'd be happy to haul you right back to juvie."

Hoshi gave a small shrug. "Not my first choice." He smiled faintly. "Guess I'll play along."

He dragged his suitcase onto the sand, and around him, the others exchanged looks and whispered to one another.

Ibuki grinned wide. "Awww, he's like a tiny kitten!"

Hoshi froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head and stared at her. His eyes narrowed. He lifted one hand and curled his fingers into claws. "Keep talking, and I'll bring the claws out," he said in a low voice. He swiped at the air with a slow, mock scratch.

Ibuki squealed and clasped her hands together. "KYAAA, even the claws are cute!"

Hoshi's mouth twitched. The hint of a smile passed over his lips as he shook his head, pulling his suitcase to the edge of the group and sitting on top of it. Without a word, he unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into his mouth.

The next motorboat slammed against the dock, rocking hard before it steadied. A tall, muscular boy leapt onto the planks, his suitcase swung from one hand and his jacket flapped open. His glare locked on Chris the moment he landed.

Chris grinned. "One bad boy after another. Next up, Owada!"

"Fuck off," Owada snapped.

Chris blinked, then shrugged. "...Cool. Love the enthusiasm."

Owada stormed past without slowing down. He scanned the crowd with a scowl, daring anyone to meet his eyes. He reached the sand and dragged his suitcase to the side, clearly ready to keep his distance.

Before he could settle, Ishimaru stomped forward. His voice boomed. "That's enough!"

Owada stopped. His head turned slowly. His eyes narrowed.

"…The hell did you just say?" he growled.

Ishimaru pointed straight at him. "I refuse to allow anymore of you refuse to participate in socializing!" Then, without warning, he grabbed Owada's arm.

Owada yanked it free and snarled. "Get your damn hands off me! Who the hell do you think you are, tellin' me what to do?!"

"I am merely giving instruction! Though based on your appearance, perhaps you're merely not used to such a thing!" Ishimaru shouted.

"Oh, you going and making assumptions now, douchebag?"

"I assume nothing, your attitude gives away your lousy refusal to respect me well enough!"

"Oh, you're asking for it now, stringbean!"

The two boys squared off, seconds from a full brawl. Then Chris rushed in, waving his arms. "Hey! Knock it off! Save it for later, you two. If you wanna throw down, do it after everyone's been introduced."

Soda raised a hand. "...Wait, so how come you didn't stop me and Tanaka earlier?"

Chris squinted at him. "...Who are you again?"

Soda slumped and pulled his beanie lower. "...Nevermind."

Owada and Ishimaru kept staring each other down, neither backing off. Owada's voice was low. "Consider yourself lucky, asshole."

Ishimaru snapped back. "Likewise! I would never throw the first punch, but when I was finished with you, you'd regret every word you just said!"

Owada rolled his eyes and shoved past him.

A motorboat slipped quietly up to the dock, and a tall girl stepped off. Her silver hair was tied into a neat side ponytail and she wore a dark school uniform, a bamboo sword strapped across her back.

Chris grinned. "Pekoyama! What's up?"

"The sky," she replied flatly, without slowing. She walked past him without looking back. The suitcase wheels clicked softly against the dock as she moved. Chris stared after her, frowning.

"…Was that serious, or a joke?" he muttered.

Pekoyama stepped off the dock and onto the sand. A few campers looked her way, offering nods or quiet greetings. She didn't respond, and her gaze stayed forward.

Off to the side, Kuzuryu spotted her right away, and his eyes widened for a split second. Then his expression hardened, a flash of anger crossing his face and his jaw clenching. "…The hell is she doing here?" he muttered under his breath.

Pekoyama reached the edge of the group and set her suitcase down, folding her arms in front of her and standing still. If she noticed Kuzuryu's stare, she gave no sign of such.

A motorboat hummed as it pulled up to the dock, where a tall boy jumped off, his messy red hair catching the sun. A casual jacket hung open over his shirt, and he flashed a wide grin at the camera.

Chris stepped forward with a raised hand. "Yo, Kuwata. Welcome to the island, man."

"Thanks, dude," Kuwata said, grinning back. They fistbumped without missing a beat, then Kuwata slung his suitcase over his shoulder and headed toward the sand. "Sooo… what do we got here—"

His eyes locked on Pekoyama, and without missing a beat Kuwata's grin widened. He strolled over and leaned on his suitcase. "Well hello, gorgeous," he said. "May I just say, you might be the finest gal I've ever laid my eyes on?" Pekoyama didn't react, and she didn't even seem to notice he was there. Kuwata paused, scratching the back of his head. "...Uh… hello? You alright?"

Before anyone could answer, the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The sand shifted slightly. The tremor was faint at first, then grew stronger. A few of the campers stumbled.

"Whoa, what the hell?!" Owada shouted.

"Is this an earthquake?!" Iruma yelled, eyes wide.

"Is the island sinking?!" Chabashira cried, clinging to Yumeno, who looked deeply annoyed.

Hoshi blinked once and kept sucking on his lollipop, unfazed.

The shaking grew worse. The dock groaned. Palm trees swayed. The sand rolled under their feet. Chris looked around, eyes wide. "Okay, what the hell is doing that?!"

The campers turned in every direction, searching. The beach trembled harder as something big approached.

Loud, thumping pop music echoed across the harbor. Every head turned toward the water as a massive cruise ship pulled in, colorful lights flashing even in the daylight. Dozens of teenagers crowded the upper decks, cheering, clapping, and waving glowsticks as the crowd parted near the railing. A single girl stepped forward, waving to the crowd as camera flashes sparkled around her, the passengers screaming with excitement. The ship lowered a ramp, and she moved down like it was a runway, suitcase in hand. When she reached the bottom, she threw up a peace sign and winked.

Soda's jaw dropped. "Holy crap… that's Sayaka Maizono. Like… the actual Sayaka Maizono?!"

Owari scratched her head, looking lost. "...Who?"

Soda turned to her, practically shouting. "Only the biggest pop star in Japan!"

The crowd on the ship erupted again, chanting her name. Maizono smiled sweetly, waving at her fans as she stepped onto the sand, set down her suitcase, and gave a small, polite bow. "I'm so happy to be here," she said. "Let's all do our best, okay?"

The cruise ship stayed for a moment longer, music still blaring. Then, with one last wave of cheers from the deck, it slowly turned back to sea. The music faded with it, swallowed by the waves.

Maizono stood at the edge of the group, then she turned slightly, brushing her hair back from her shoulder. Her eyes moved across the dock…

And stopped.

Near one of the cameras, a boy stood holding cables. He wore a staff polo and looked like he didn't want to be seen.

It was Naegi.

Maizono's smile faltered. Her gaze locked onto him. Her lips parted. "Makoto…?" she said, softly. Almost to herself.

Naegi stiffened. He blinked in surprise, caught off guard. But before the moment could settle, Chris clapped his hands together and stepped in front of the camera. "Alright, campers!" he shouted. "That makes everyone!"

"Thank God," Owari said, stretching. "I thought we were never gonna start!"

Chris raised a hand. "Not so fast. Before we get moving, we gotta grab a picture for the promos." He snapped his fingers toward the crew. "Everybody onto the dock!"

The campers groaned as they began to shuffle back onto the dock, dragging their suitcases behind them. Some squeezed into place reluctantly. Others stayed apart, keeping just enough space to avoid bumping shoulders.

Crew members rushed to line up the shot. Naegi stood at the edge, still clutching cables. He stole one last glance toward Maizono, but she kept her eyes forward, her face composed again.

Suitcases were pushed into a messy pile at the side. Some campers crossed their arms. A few forced a smile. Others struck overly dramatic poses. Eventually, the group settled into a decent enough arrangement.

Chris knelt behind the camera, wrestling with the settings. "Alright, picture time! One, two… wait, hang on." He frowned. "Forgot the lens cap."

Enoshima crossed her arms. "Wow. Real professional."

"Okay, okay, got it this time," Chris muttered, fumbling with the camera. "One, two… ah, crap. Card's full. Gimme a sec."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Owada snapped.

Chris finally managed to get everything set. "Okay, now we're good! Everybody say… Jabberwock!"

"Jabberwock!" the group shouted.

CLICK! The flash went off. And then, with a loud groan, the dock cracked beneath them. The wood splintered. A heartbeat later, it collapsed, and every single camper plunged into the water in a splash.

Chris doubled over with laughter. "Pffft, hahaha! Oh man, beautiful! Perfect shot!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Alright, guys, dry off and meet me at the resort in ten!" Still laughing, he strolled off down the beach.

The campers dragged themselves out of the water, soaked and sputtering. Wet clothes clung to them as they stumbled back onto the sand.

Kuwata looked around, confused. "Uh… wait. Does anyone actually know where the resort is?"

Everyone glanced at each other, and a collective groan echoed across the beach. The camera slowly pulled back, capturing the soggy, grumbling group in front of the crumbling silhouette of Jabberwock Island's resort.

The resort grounds of Jabberwock Island stretched out in front of the cast as they wandered onto the grounds. Villas that were once high-end now slouched under collapsing roofs, and the swimming pool sat still and green, a film of algae coating the surface.

Enoshima wrinkled her nose. “Ew. This is where we’re supposed to live?”

Kuzuryu scowled. “Tch. Figures. Knew this was gonna be a dump.”

Owada kicked an old soda can, sending up a puff of dust. “This ain’t even a dump, man. It’s a freakin’ morgue.”

Ishimaru came to a full stop, eyes wide with outrage. “To expect us to reside in these horrid conditions is absolutely disgraceful! I demand we speak to the host immediately and file a formal complaint!”

Soda jogged a few steps ahead, waving it off. “Aw, c’mon, guys, it’s not that bad! Just needs a little elbow grease, y’know? Some patchwork here, some tightening there...” He leaned against a cracked support beam on a nearby gazebo. “Maybe a quick fix—”

The beam snapped in two, and in an instant, the whole structure collapsed. Soda screamed and dove backward, flinging himself straight into Gonta's arms.

Soda clung to him, wide-eyed. “Holy! Okay, yeah, maybe it’s worse than I thought!” He glanced up. “Oh… sorry, big guy.”

Gonta smiled. “Gonta glad to help! But please don’t squeeze so hard. You’re hurting Gonta’s ribs.”

Up ahead, the hotel towered above them. Several windows were boarded shut, and an air conditioner dangled from one, leaking water in a steady drip onto the walkway below.

Suddenly, a figure leaned out over the balcony; Chris. “Heyyy! There you guys are!” he called out with a grin. “Took you long enough!” Everyone stopped and stared at him, stunned. “What’re you waiting for? Get inside! Let’s get this thing started!”

The group let out a collective groan. The front doors groaned open as the contestants stepped inside, dragging their suitcases behind them. The lobby opened up around them; it must have been beautiful once, but now, it was anything but. Mold crept like vines along the walls, and the check-in desk had a long crack running through it.

In one corner, a potted plant stood forgotten, just a dry stalk poking out of a pot full of sand. Iruma reached out and tapped it with one finger, causing the whole thing to crumble to dust, making her burst out laughing. “Pffft, holy crap, this place is toast!”

Enoshima tugged her suitcase closer, nose wrinkled again. “Seriously, I thought this was supposed to be five stars.”

Chris stood near the desk, arms wide, still smiling. “And it was! Back in the day? Oh man, this place was a little slice of heaven. Hotel Mirai was the number one vacation spot for the rich and famous.”

He spun slowly in place, motioning to the torn wallpaper and scattered debris. “…And about a decade later, it’s still heaven. Just… y’know, mostly for the bugs, raccoons, and whatever else decided to move in.”

Kuzuryu scowled and kicked at a loose tile. “Place ain’t even fit for squatters. You sure it’s safe to live here?”

Chris snapped his fingers. “Safe enough! Look, you all signed up for this, right? We cast you ‘cause we figured you could handle it. But hey, if it’s not worth it? No hard feelings! Head back to the beach, we’ll call the boat, and you’re out.”

He looked over the group, watching for a reaction. No one moved. A few of them exchanged uncertain glances, but the silence stretched long enough to say what they wouldn’t.

Chris’s grin widened. “That’s what I thought. Great!” He clapped his hands. “Now take a seat, campers.”

They spread out through the ruined lobby, finding whatever spots they could. Owari flopped across a cracked couch and kicked her feet up. Ishimaru dusted off a chair then sat stiffly upright. Gonta eased onto a loveseat, which groaned under his weight. Enoshima perched on the arm of a chair, arms folded tight. Hoshi took a stool in the corner, slowly unwrapping another lollipop. Soda sat alone, far from anything that looked like it might collapse. Others grouped up or found quiet corners, speaking in low voices or watching the room in silence.

The camera panned across the scene, contestants scattered among the wreckage, each trying to settle in. At the center stood Chris. “Alright… now we can really get started.” He clapped his hands once. "Welcome, everyone, to Jabberwock Island, your new home for the next eight weeks!"

"The campers around you are gonna be your cabinmates..."

Soda glanced hopefully at Sonia. She looked away, polite but distant. Enoshima smirked at the two.

"...your competition..."

Owada and Ishimaru locked eyes. Instantly, they were bristling, both practically vibrating as if expecting the other to offer another challenge.

"...and maaaybe your friends."

Momota leaned over and fist-bumped Owari. They both grinned.

"And in the end, the camper who manages to stay on this island the longest, without getting voted off... will win one hundred thousand dollars!"

Silence followed. Every camper stared at him. A few mouths moved.

“Dollars?”

“What?”

“Eh?”

Chris shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. "Yeah, yeah, I was too lazy to convert it into yen for you guys. Just trust me, it's a lot of money. Like, stupid lot. Enough to buy... whatever teenagers spend money on these days."

"Rocket fuel!" Iruma shouted, pumping her fist.

Kuwata raised his hand, suitcase still wobbling in his grip. "Yeah, uh, quick question before we all get starry-eyed about the cash. What’s the deal with the sleeping arrangements? ’Cause I’d really like to drop this bag off somewhere before you drop us in the ocean again."

Chabashira narrowed her eyes. She glanced between Hiro, who was wringing out his poncho, and Shinguji, who sat quietly stroking the tassels on his mask like he was planning a heist.

"And please tell me they’re not co-ed," she said flatly.

Chris’s grin got wider. "Just outside this hotel are sixteen cottages, all designed for two people. So, yeah, most of you’ll be shacking up with roommates, but hey, a lucky few might score their own space if the numbers line up."

Chris reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He flicked it open, and grinned at the cast. "Alright, listen up! If I call your name, step over to my left."

He glanced at the paper. "Gonta!"

Gonta straightened up with pride and hoisted his suitcase. The floorboards groaned under his weight as he lumbered across the room.

"Celeste!" Celeste raised her parasol and managed a smile. "Iruma!" Iruma threw on a wild grin of her own.

"Kuwata!" Kuwata shot Iruma a wink, which she responded to with a waggling eyebrow. "Ibuki!" Ibuki snickered at the two.

"Maizono!" Maizono stood up smoothly and brushed her skirt. "Kuzuryu!" Kuzuryu rolled his eyes. "Shinguji!" Shinguji bowed his head.

"Hiro!" Hiro yawned. "Sonia!" Sonia clasped her hands together. "Soda!" Soda shot a fingergun Sonia’s way, making her giggle.

"And... Harukawa." Harukawa stood up without saying a word. She picked up her suitcase, eyes half-lidded.

Chris looked over the batch of twelve. "Congrats, you’re officially a team! And from now on… you’ll be known as… the Screaming Gophers!"

He tossed a rolled-up green banner toward the group, which Gonta caught easily, unfurling it in his grip. The banner showed a cartoon gopher mid-scream, eyes bulging, teeth bared proudly.

Ibuki gasped, eyes sparkling. "Oh my God, I love it!"

Kuwata frowned. "Bro, you’re kidding me with that name, right?"

Kuzuryu snorted. "What the hell even is a gopher? Some kinda rat?"

Chris turned back to the rest of the group, still holding his list. "Alright, the rest of you, when I call your name, step over to my right."

"Owada!" Owada stomped across the floor. "Yumeno!" Yumeno stood up slowly and began dragging her suitcase behind her.

"Pekoyama!" Pekoyama’s bamboo sword shifted slightly on her back as she moved. "Enoshima!" Enoshima’s smirk widened as she crossed the room. "Tanaka!" Tanaka swept forward with dramatic flair, scarf fluttering behind him like a cape.

"Ishimaru!" Ishimaru bolted upright and gave a salute. "Chabashira!" Chabashira shot him a glare.

"Owari!" Owari bounced up, tossed her suitcase over one shoulder. "Momota!" Momota strutted confidently, chest out and chin high.

"Hoshi!" Hoshi hopped off his stool with a quiet grunt. "Kirigiri!" Kirigiri joined the line quietly.

"And finally... Togami." Togami adjusted his glasses, chin tilted high, striding across the floor as if it had been built for him alone.

Chris snapped the list closed and spread his arms wide. "Congratulations, your team is... the Killer Bass!"

He tossed them a red banner. Momota stepped forward and grabbed it, and the banner unfurled, showing a bass leaping from the water, mouth wide and full of sharp teeth.

"Now that’s a name worthy of champions!" Momota grinned.

"Hell yeah!" Owari shouted, pumping her fist.

"Hmph." Togami crossed his arms. "At least it’s better than a yapping rodent."

Chris stepped forward, still smiling. "Alright, now that you’re officially divided up, here’s the deal. From this point on, you and your team will be on camera at every single moment of the competition."

A few campers shifted at that. Kirigiri’s eyes narrowed slightly. Hiro glanced around, suddenly alert. Enoshima caught the nearest camera lens and gave it a knowing smirk.

The camera slams open on a cramped, beat-up outhouse with a single bulb flickering overhead, its walls made of loose fitted wood. Chris sits in the center of the frame with a smug smirk, “And to round out introductions, here we have the confessional booth.” He pats the wall, which wobbles unsettlingly. A bug crawls out of a crack.

“This is where you can spill your guts on camera in complete privacy anytime you want. Just you, the camera, and all of America watching at home,” he shot a wink at the lens, “share your innermost thoughts, vent, trash-talk your teammates, whatever works! Let the world know how you’re really feeling.”

"This entire show is beneath me." Togami sits stiffly on the toilet, arms crossed, glaring past the camera rather than into it. "The cameras, the accommodations, the… contestants." He adjusts his glasses. "I should never have agreed to this nonsense.”

Slowly, a smirk managed to form. “But… perhaps it will serve as a test. If I can dominate even here, under such strange circumstance, then my skill is unquestionable." He exhales sharply through his nose, muttering, "Still… I should have demanded a better contract from my employ…” He blinked, before quickly covering the camera with a hand and storming out.

"Admittedly, this camp is… unrefined," Celeste sits perfectly upright, parasol leaning against her, "but such things do not trouble me. Rarely is your first hand particularly useful on the surface, so one must learn to turn whatever they’re dealt to their advantage."

She folds her hands neatly. "The others will complain, struggle, and flail about, while I will simply… adapt. And in time, they will learn what that means for them."

"...This game looks like a lot of work.” Yumeno slouches in the chair, hat slipping over her eyes. She lets out a long yawn. “I’ll win by… conserving energy." She slowly closes her eyes. "Like this."

She immediately nods off. The camera lingers awkwardly as she starts snoring.

Chris clapped his hands again. "Now then, any questions?"

Soda’s hand shot up and Ishimaru opened his mouth to speak.

"Great, moving on!" Chris cut them off before anyone could get a word out, spinning on his heels and walking through the lobby doors. The group blinked, confused, then scrambled to grab their luggage and hurry after him.

Just outside the pool sat directly ahead, filled with green, unmoving water, and just beyond that, a row of wooden cottages stretched along a dock. The wood was weather-worn and sun-bleached, and some of the cottages leaned slightly, as if a strong wind might finish the job. But they were still standing. Barely.

Chris turned, gesturing to their new abodes. "Behold! Your new digs!" He pointed left. "These babies are for the Screaming Gophers." Then he pointed right. "And those over there are for the Killer Bass."

A few campers exchanged uneasy glances.

"You’re in charge of figuring out the whole roomie situation," Chris said. "Only rule? You gotta bunk with someone on your team. Same-gender only, no exceptions." He began walking backward. "You’ve got an hour to settle in, explore, maybe patch a few leaks, whatever. After that, it’s lunchtime. Don’t be late." With that, he turned and strolled off.

The group began to split off, hauling their luggage toward the cottages. Soda and Kuzuryu lingered behind, the former kneeling beside his bag as he rummaged through its contents. The latter gave him a look, but just as he started toward the Gopher cabins, a hand clamped over his face and yanked him backward into the shadows beside the hotel.

Soda looked up at the sudden noise. He blinked, tilted his head, then shrugged and went back to rummaging.

In the dark, Kuzuryu shoved the hand away and staggered back, glaring. "The hell's your problem?!"

Pekoyama stood in front of him. Her hand dropped to her side. "We need to speak," she said. "So I thought we could use some privacy."

"Not that," Kuzuryu snapped. "I mean… this! Why did you sign up for this? Why are you even here?!"

"To protect you."

He froze. His scowl faltered. He glanced around, voice lowering.

"I’m sorry to have surprised you," she said. "But when I learned you were leaving the family—"

"Don’t say it like that," he cut in. "Not out loud." He exhaled hard and scratched behind his head. "I just... needed a break from all that crap, alright? Natsumi’s already better at handling that stuff anyway, she can cover the duties. Always could."

He looked up at her, eyes flaring. "Which is why you shouldn’t have followed me here! You don’t need to trail after me everywhere."

"Yes, I do."

Kuzuryu didn’t speak right away, allowing a bit of quiet to creep in. He eventually breathed in... "...Okay, whatever. I'm just... I'll drop this for now. Ain't like we can do shit about it anyway." Then he turned to her again. "Do me a favor, though." She leaned in, waiting. "Pretend you don’t know me."

Her brow twitched.

"If we’re stuck here together," he went on, "I want you to actually get something out of this. Make some friends, learn a hobby, I don’t freakin’ know. Just… don’t waste it hangin’ on me."

Pekoyama hesitated. "But—"

"Out here," he said, cutting her off, "you don’t need to protect me. So please... stay away from me."

He grabbed his suitcase and walked away, storming toward the cottages and hoping one of the singles was still available.

Meanwhile, Pekoyama stayed in the shadows. She looked down at her hands, then at the distant cottages. Her face stayed calm, but her eyes told a different story. Something uncertain flickered there, though she said nothing about it...

“This place sucks.” Kuzuryu sits low in the chair, arms crossed, glaring at the floor before finally looking at the camera. “But whatever. I didn’t come out here to have fun anyway.” He clenches a fist in his lap. “I came to win. And when I do… maybe some people will finally get it through their heads that I don’t need anyone babysitting me.”

Harukawa pushed open the creaky door of the cottage. The outside had looked crooked and beaten by years of wind and salt, but the inside was better than expected. Two beds sat against opposite walls, and a small dresser leaned in the far corner, with faded curtains hung at the windows.

She stepped inside and set her suitcase down against the door. Her eyes moved across the room, and though her face stayed unreadable, eventually she let out a long, steady breath. For the first time since arriving, her shoulders dropped just a little.

She sat on the edge of the nearest bed, about to relax…

And then the door exploded open behind her with a loud crack. Iruma stormed in, suitcase flying behind her. "Woooo! Sexiest genius alive, comin’ through!"

Harukawa froze, her whole body going stiff. She turned slowly toward the door, a growl rising in her throat. “...What the hell are you doing in here?"

Iruma kicked her bag against the dresser. "What’s it look like, flat-chest? I’m your new roomie!"

"No, you’re not," Harukawa said flatly. She nodded toward the door. "Go find a different room."

Iruma threw her arms up in mock outrage, her goggles slipping down over her nose. "Can’t! Celeste already ninja’d one of the singles, and Sonia snagged the other. So tough luck, sugarplum, you’re stuck with me!"

Harukawa’s eye twitched.

"Bed by the window’s mine! Ground rules- don’t touch my tools or I’ll staple your hands together, and bit of a heads-up, I snore like Hell and sometimes sleepwalk, so I'd apologize if I end up groping you or whatever, but with how flat that chest is I doubt you'd notice! Oh, and hope you don’t got allergies, cause I am big into chemical experimentation."

Harukawa stared at her, jaw tightening as her eyes twitched. Every inch of her radiated quiet, rising fury.

Harukawa sits with her arms loosely folded, staring at the floor. She exhales slowly, then glances at the camera with tired eyes. "...I knew this place would be exhausting, I just didn’t think it would be this fast." She rubs her temple, sighing again. "These people are already getting on my last nerves. So… I’ll sit here for as long as I can… before I do something stupid."

Kuwata slapped a poster of The Clash onto the cottage wall and smoothed it out with both hands. He stepped back and nodded, clearly proud of the result. "There we go," he said, grinning. "Place just got a lot cooler, huh?"

Across the room, Soda sat cross-legged on the floor, a screwdriver clenched between his teeth as he hunched over what looked like the top half of a motorcycle. He looked up, shrugged, and mumbled around the tool. "Yeah, sure, man. Totally." He spat the screwdriver into his hand and went right back to work.

Kuwata raised an eyebrow. "Dude, you got real lucky the boats brought our other luggage, ‘cause there’s no freakin’ way you could’ve dragged that thing here on your own. Why’d you even bring it?"

Soda paused, taking a moment to stare at his work. "I don't know... guess it’s just kinda my pet project? Always wanted to finish it, but back home, I can’t really ride it due to local regulations, so it sorta slipped my mind. But I thought that maybe I could finish it up here… even take it for a spin when it’s done."

Kuwata leaned against the wall, smirking. "Alrighty, I can get that. And hey, if you’re lucky? Maybe you can take one of the girls for a ride on it..." He winked. "If you know what I mean."

Soda froze, his face turning bright red. He stared for a second, stunned, then broke into a lopsided, goofy smile. "Y-Yeah… yeah, that’d be awesome."

He glanced out the open door without thinking, and stopped cold. Across the row of cottages, Sonia stepped outside, sunlight catching her blonde hair as she adjusted her skirt. Soda’s face turned the color of a tomato, fumbling his screwdriver and nearly dropping it on his foot. "S-So awesome…" he said quietly, eyes wide.

Kuwata shook his head, laughing under his breath.

Soda pokes the toilet paper roll by the chair, squinting at it.

"...Please tell me nobody’s actually used this thing." He scratches the back of his head, flashing a nervous grin. "Anyway, hi, name’s Soda—" He freezes mid-sentence, then laughs awkwardly. "Ah, wait, duh. You guys already know that…"

He leans back, fiddling with his beanie. "This whole setup’s pretty weird, not gonna lie. But hey, I’ll roll with it! Make some friends, have some fun, maybe… uh…" He blushes faintly, grinning sheepishly. "Y’know, maybe even find love out here or something. Heh. A guy can hope, right?"

Maizono opened the door to her cottage, suitcase rolling quietly behind her. She barely stepped inside before a voice exploded from across the room.

"Maizonoooooo!"

Ibuki launched forward and wrapped her in a hug. Despite being smaller, her grip was unbelievable, lifting Maizono an inch off the floor. "I’m so glad I got you as my roomie!" Ibuki beamed. "Like, don’t get me wrong, the other girls seem totally rad, but… I dunno, I get the feeling they’d think I’m, like, too much, y’know?"

Maizono blinked, managing a polite smile as Ibuki finally set her down. She glanced around the room. Posters already covered the wall, beaded strings hung off the dresser, and a scattered pile of guitar picks covered one of the beds. Ibuki's side was already bursting with color.

"You’ve, uh… already made yourself comfortable, I see…" Maizono said quietly.

"Heck yeah!" Ibuki grinned even wider. "Gotta make it feel like my home away from home, right?" She threw herself onto her bed. A few guitar picks flew into the air like confetti. "After all, may as well make sure the vibes are right for when Ibuki gets some downtime."

Maizono’s smile flickered. She tightened her grip on her suitcase handle and stood still for a moment, unsure. "Meanwhile I don’t even know where to start," she said softly.

Ibuki glanced over at her and laughed, waving it off. "Ohhh, I get it. You’re not used to living it up like us peasants, amirite? Dealing with a place this small."

She laughed again. Then she saw the look in Maizono’s eyes. Her gaze had lowered, and for just a second, something passed across her face.

Ibuki froze. "Oh crap, wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like—"

"No, it’s fine. Really." Maizono cut in quickly. Her voice dropped. "It’s just… new, is all."

She set her suitcase down gently. "Not that I’ve always been famous or anything, but… I’m just used to always having something to do while touring." She shifted her weight a little. "Feels weird thinking I might have downtime at all to really care what’s in here."

Ibuki watched her, expression softening. Her grin eased into something warmer as she stepped over and slung an arm around Maizono’s shoulders, giving her a light squeeze. "Hey, don’t worry yourself too much about it, alright? If you’re feeling outta place, just stick with me. I’ll make sure this place rocks!"

She threw up devil horns with her free hand, smiling wide again. Maizono looked at her, a little surprised. Then she smiled too. "...Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, roomie!" Then Ibuki pointed toward a massive amp leaned against the wall. "Now, if you could… miiiiiind helping me move this?"

Maizono giggled.

Maizono smiles brightly at the camera, giving a small wave. “Hi to all my fans out there! I promise I’ll make you all proud, okay?” She leans back, looking over the walls. “I don’t really need the money, but this show just felt like such a once-in-a-lifetime chance that’s there no way I could pass it up." Her smile softens a little, and she lowers her hands to her lap. “Besides… it’s kind of like a break if you really think about it.”

She glances down, the smile faltering just slightly. “…I don’t remember the last time I had one of those.”

Celeste smoothed the lace trim of her blanket and placed the last porcelain teacup on her nightstand. The small cottage, though modest, now carried her regal touch. Neatly folded fabrics lined one shelf, and a chessboard sat perfectly centered on a table, with alace curtain was pinned just so at the window. She took a slow breath, eyes drifting around the room with quiet satisfaction.

"At last... a room befitting someone such as myself," she murmured.

A soft skitter broke the silence. She turned to see a glossy beetle crawled out from the baseboard. Her smile faded. She snatched up a decorative fan and swatted at it. The beetle buzzed away, its wings clicking as it retreated.

"Tch. Disgusting creature." She turned back toward the dresser, only to spot another bug crawling across the wood. Then another. Then several more.

The walls trembled, and in an instant, a sudden burst of motion tore through the room. Hundreds of insects poured out, clouding the air in a blur as the room filled with the buzzing hum of wings.

Celeste screamed, dropping to a crouch and covering her head with both arms as the swarm surrounded her.

The door burst open.

Gonta rushed inside, his eyes scanning the swarm. Then he raised both hands and began clicking his tongue rhythmically.

The sound cut through the buzz, and the insects slowed. Then they began to drift toward him. The cloud gathered around his tall frame, pulsing in the air but not touching him. They hovered like a living halo on all sides, his tongue still making that clicking noise.

Celeste peeked out from behind her arms, stunned at the sight before her.

Gonta finished his clicking, and the swarm pulled together into a loose column. With a low hum, it streamed out the door.

Outside, Soda happened to be walking past. He looked up just in time to see the swarm flying straight at him. "AHHHH!!" He sprinted off, arms flailing as the insects flew after him.

Celeste remained crouched, pale and breathless as she clutched her chest. All the while,  Gonta waved after the bugs. "Goodbye, friends!" he called out. Then he held up one finger, shaking his head. "Don’t play with Soda too much now! Respect his boundaries!"

Celeste could only stare at him. "...What in heaven’s name was that?" she asked, still trembling.

"Oh!" Gonta said brightly. "Gonta can speak to bugs." She blinked, Gonta seemingly oblivious to the insanity of that statement. He looked around the room, eyes narrowing. "Hm... looks like some hives might still be in here," he said. "That’s bad. If not removed properly, Gonta’s friends may return."

"They’ll be back?!"

Gonta nodded. Then he turned to her with a kind smile. "If Miss Celeste is okay with it, Gonta can check around and relocate them safely."

Celeste’s lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced at her porcelain cups and her many carefully arranged things. The thought of his large hands moving through her space gave her pause.

"...I would prefer that you not disturb my possessions," she stated.

"Gonta promises to be careful," he said. "But Gonta wouldn’t feel right leaving if it meant Miss Celeste might suffer more visits from Gonta’s friends."

She exhaled slowly. After a beat, she waved her hand in reluctant approval. "Very well."

Gonta got to work at once, gently tapping the walls and peering into corners like he was coaxing something from hiding.

Celeste watched him, still unsettled. "...Why, exactly, are you doing this for me?" she asked.

Gonta looked up and smiled. "Because Gonta is gentleman. It is polite thing to do."

Celeste’s eyes narrowed, but her lips curled upward in a faint smirk. "...Interesting," she said quietly. She studied him with interest, as if filing the answer away for future use.

Gonta sits hunched forward, knees pulled in, trying to fit in the tiny booth. He smiles warmly, though a little nervous. “Gonta’s not used to being around so many people. Most of Gonta’s life was in the woods, with bugs, animals, and family… so this feels kinda strange.” He straightens up, puffing his chest with pride. “But Gonta’s excited! This is Gonta’s chance to show everyone he can be a true gentleman! Gonta won’t waste this opportunity, Gonta promises!”

Chabashira and Yumeno stepped out of their cottage together, the former giving a firm nod in her roommate’s direction. "Thanks again, Yumeno. I really appreciate you being okay with rooming with someone like me."

"...Not like I had a real choice," Yumeno muttered under her breath.

From the next cottage over, Shinguji stepped out and quietly closed the door behind him. "Farewell for now, Kuzuryu," he called back.

"Get lost already!" Kuzuryu’s voice came from inside.

Shinguji didn’t react. He adjusted his mask and strolled toward the girls, lifting a hand in greeting. "Good afternoon to you both."

Chabashira stiffened. She narrowed her eyes and stepped slightly in front of Yumeno. "And what exactly do you want?"

"Merely to make nice," Shinguji said calmly. "Unity strengthens the collective, does it not?"

Chabashira scoffed. "Hah. Like I’m supposed to believe that. Case you forgot, we're on different teams; there is no... whatever you said!"

Shinguji tilted his head, as if studying her reaction. "Doubtful of my intentions, are you? Fair enough I suppose, though just because we'll soon be engaged in friendly competition doesn't mean we can't respect each other, hm?"

Her jaw tensed, stepping toward him with a glare. "I don’t like your tone."

"I fail to see how that’s my problem."

Yumeno groaned loudly and sagged forward, clearly done with the conversation. "This is exhausting."

Chabashira blinked, caught off guard. "Wait! You see what he's doing, right?!"

Yumeno didn’t answer. She only waved a hand lazily over her shoulder and kept walking. Chabashira gave Shinguji one last glare, then hurried after her roommate.

Shinguji watched them go. His eyes glinted behind the mask, humming to himself softly as the two girls disappeared down the path. "...Curious. Very curious."

“Okay, maybe I get a little… intense sometimes." Chabashira leans forward in the chair, arms crossed tightly. "But that’s not my fault, I know what boys are capable of!” She jabs a finger at the camera. “Rotten liars, always twisting things around, making me look like the fool! And I can already tell the ones here are no different.”

She slams a fist into her palm, “I won’t let the other girls fall victim to their disgusting tricks. Not on my watch!”

Togami and Sonia stepped back into the hotel lobby, their footsteps echoing across the cracked tile. The space was still as broken and grim as before, but on the far wall stood a row of old arcade machines, dormant and dusty.

Sonia tilted her head, intrigued, reaching out and pressing a button on one of the cabinets. To her surprise, the screen flickered to life. "How intriguing!" she said with a smile. "It appears they still function. What a delight!"

Meanwhile Togami scanned the room with clear disdain. "Hmph. Delightful is hardly the word I’d use. These conditions are laughable; to think we’re expected to live like this? How utterly beneath me..."

Sonia kept her smile. "I prefer to look on the bright side," she said gently. "Perhaps this is a chance to experience something unlike my usual lifestyle. Entirely different, and thus, valuable to learning the sorts of perils my people may face at their lowest."

Togami adjusted his glasses. "Hmph. Perhaps you have a point." A small smile crept onto his face. "Y’know, Sonia, I dare say you may be one of the few here I could regard as… something of an equal."

Sonia tilted her head. "What do you mean by that, Togami?"

"Why, you’re royalty, of course. And the Togami Conglomerate has something of a history with foreign superpowers. It only feels natural we get along." He smirked faintly. "Perhaps even help each other."

"But... we are on different teams, are we not?" she asked, puzzled.

"True," he said, still smirking. "But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t offer one another aid under… certain circumstances."

Before he could continue, a cheerful voice called out. "Hey, what'cha guys talking about?" Hiro ambled into the lobby, shooting the pair a wave. "You wanted to check out this dump too?" He laughed. "Great minds think alike, huh?"

Togami stared at him, stunned and disgusted. "Compare your mind to mine in any such way again and I may have to schedule a lobotomy," he said flatly.

Hiro flinched. "Dang, dude... that's a pretty messed up thing to joke about."

"Who said I was joking?"

Sonia’s eyes lit up as she noticed something hanging around Hiro’s neck. "Ah! What is that you are wearing?"

Hiro grinned and held up the charm that dangled against his chest. "Ohhh, you got a good eye! Behold, the overwhelming presence of my power stones!" He struck a pose and gestured proudly. "They draw out my true potential. With these babies, I can even see the future with thirty percent accuracy!"

Togami groaned loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable." Without another word, he turned and stormed off.

Sonia leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Truly? That is remarkable!"

"Yeah, they’re pretty cool," Hiro said with a nod. "A little expensive, yeah, but totally worth it." He smiled wide. "Hey, if you want, I could give you a palm reading later. I’ll even throw in a discount, since you’re royalty and all."

Sonia clasped her hands together, touched by the offer.

"Man, this whole setup’s pretty chill." Hiro lounges sideways in the chair, one arm hanging off the back. He grins lazily at the camera. "I got… y’know, some stuff goin’ on back home, so being here’s kinda like a vacation if you really think about it." He waves his hand vaguely. "And hey, if I actually win? Sweet. I can pay back my investors, and poof, problems gone."

He shrugs, still smiling. "I don’t really know much about these reality show things, but whatever. I’m a cool dude. Can’t imagine anyone’d wanna get rid of me."

Owada pushed open a heavy door and stumbled into a tiled hallway, leading up into the communal washrooms. He peeked inside to see rows of old sinks lining the wall, and parallel on the left and right walls were entrances to the bathrooms, one marked in blue and the other in pink.

Then something caught his eye. "...No freakin’ way."

Off to the side, a frosted glass door was wide open, steam drifting out, and just beyond it, a full spa room was miraculously running. Owada stepped inside, grinning in disbelief. "They actually got a damn spa in here?!"

Behind him, Owari leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, unimpressed. "Yeah, but I wouldn't get too excited. That Chris guy seemed kinda skeezy. Wouldn’t be shocked if he tossed cameras in there too."

Owada turned back to her and snorted. "What, cameras in a bathroom? Nah, c’mon. That’s, like... illegal or some shit. If we caught him, we could sue his ass, right?"

Owari shrugged. "Still, wouldn’t put it past him."

Not long later, Ishimaru marched into the room as well, his presence immediately causing Owada to groan. "The hell do you want, hall monitor?" He snapped. "Ain’t it bad enough we’re stuck roomin’ together, now you’re followin’ me around too?!"

Ishimaru scoffed. "Hardly! I merely deemed it wise to inspect the facilities for myself." As if in an instant, his expression snapped into glee. "And what a remarkable discovery this is! A spa such as this will serve as an invaluable addition to my workout regimen!"

Owada rolled his eyes and turned away. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, man."

Ishimaru’s fists clenched at his sides. "Whatever you say?! Such dismissiveness is an insult to my regulated discipline! I will not be undermined by your cynicism!"

Owada spun back around, stepping in close. "And I ain’t listenin’ to some glorified whistle-blower!"

Owari let out a loud groan. She turned and began walking back toward the hall. "Nope," she muttered. "I’m not third-wheeling this crap. Gonna go see if there’s food around here somewhere." She waved them off without looking back.

As soon as she left, the two stood face to face, both glaring the other down... until finally, Owada threw up his hands. "Screw this." He stormed out of the room himself.

Ishimaru stayed where he was, arms folding tightly across his chest. He let out a loud huff, still staring after him.

Owada sits with his arms spread across the chair’s back, scowling at the floor before glancing at the camera. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Maybe I should be playin’ nice, since apparently these assholes can vote me off or whatever." He huffs, rolling his eyes. "But it ain’t my fault they’re all so damn annoying, and I ain’t just gonna let anybody walk all over me."

He exhales, leaning back with a shrug. "Tch. Whatever. I can deal with all this crap as long as I need to. End of the day, I’m still winnin’ this stupid thing."

Enoshima and Momota pushed open a pair of doors to the old building beside the resort, the hinges groaning as they slowly revealed an inside that was almost entirely pitch black.

Enoshima wrinkled her nose and covered it with her hand. "Ugh. This place smells like death."

Momota grinned, planting his fists on his hips. "...Betcha five hundred yen you won’t go in."

"You had me at the free cash." She smirked, already stepping into the shadows.

He laughed and followed her in confidently. "Okay, but if you need to back out, no judgment on my part." He smirked. "Not everyone can be as brave as me, after all."

A ceiling plank then fell without warning and smacked him right on the shoulder. "Ow!" he yelped, face reddening.

Enoshima burst out laughing. "Yeah, real brave."

They moved deeper inside. Enoshima dragged her nails across the wall, leaving lines in the dust. Momota kicked debris aside with every step. The building creaked above them.

Then they heard it. A low, guttural noise echoed from the darkness.

Momota froze, and his fists went up. "What was that?"

Enoshima narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. "Relax. It's just an old building. It could’ve been anything."

A voice burst out of the shadows. "Keheheheheh… fools! You dare trespass upon the sanctum of shadows?!"

A figure lunged forward. Tanaka, his scarf flaring behind him, eyes gleaming in the gloom.

Both Enoshima and Momota jumped. Momota even shouted. "Holy!"

Tanaka threw his arms wide, voice booming like thunder. "You stand within the Temple of Oblivion, claimed now by I, Gundham Tanaka! The vermin outside dare not intrude, lest they face my wrath!"

Enoshima clutched her chest, then laughed. "Oh my god, you scared the hell outta me!"

Momota lowered his fists, still rattled. "Dude! What are you even doing in here?!"

Tanaka’s voice dropped into something more serious. "Negotiating with the darkness. Only here may my power reach its full potential." He looked around the room and adjusted his scarf. "These walls… they hum with ancient despair."

Enoshima twitched slightly at that word choice. Then she threw on a smirk and laughed. "Ooooh, spooky. Yeah, this dump’s full of despair all right. Probably asbestos too. Careful you don’t ‘negotiate’ your lungs away."

Momota shook his head, still catching his breath. Tanaka ignored them both. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small bag of sunflower seeds. He then knelt down and sprinkled them on the dusty floor.

Momota frowned. "...What’re you doing, man?"

"Spaces as ancient as this hide many secret allies,” Tanaka explained without looking up, “if I am to create an army of the damned, I must seek worthy aid. A place this unholy feels perfect for such a task."

Enoshima raised a brow. "Uh huh. I don’t think—"

"Silence, witch!" Tanaka snapped, raising a hand. "Do you hear it?"

They both stopped. A sound scratched through the silence. Tiny feet scurried from beneath the wall.

A cockroach. It ran up to one of the seeds, nibbling without care for the humans towering over it. Tanaka crouched beside it like a priest kneeling at an altar. He studied it carefully.

"No good..." he murmured. "A mere roach will not do. It would be baselessly cruel to send one such as him to certain demise for the sake of my goals..."

He extended one finger and brushed the top of its shell. The roach didn’t react. It simply kept eating.

Enoshima and Momota stared in silent horror. Then they exchanged a look of mutual disgust.

"...Okay, ew," Enoshima muttered.

Momota groaned and rubbed his face. "We’re outta here." He waved a hand toward Tanaka. "Have fun with that."

Enoshima pushed the doors open again and stepped into the light. Momota followed, stomping after her with a muttered curse.

The room fell quiet again. Tanaka stayed crouched in the shadows, his scarf hanging still, insects creeping near his boots. He didn’t look after the others.

"Directionless fools, the both of them," he said softly. "They see none of the vision..."

He paused, then nodded to the cockroach. "No matter." He gently picked it up and cradled it in his palm. "I know you at least see the truth."

The roach twitched.

Tanaka let out a loud, echoing laugh in response.

"Pathetic… utterly pathetic." Tanaka looms in the chair, arms folded, scarf draped dramatically as he lets out a low, theatrical chuckle. "I had hoped to find warriors worthy of my power here, and instead, I am surrounded by mere worms, unfit to even graze the surface of my dominion." He sweeps one hand toward the camera, eyes blazing. "So be it! I shall raise my dark army here, and bend this wretched island to my will."

He leans back, smirking. "My victory shall be simple… a cakewalk. Yet even a supreme overlord must find some entertainment, lest he die of boredom."

Owada stomped down a cracked path, jaw still clenched from the argument with Ishimaru. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath, until something caught his eye. "...The hell?"

Down the lane, a flicker of bright neon buzzed in the sun; a glowing Rocketpunch Market sign hung above a sliding glass door. The building looked brand new, shiny and clean. It stood out against the rest of the decaying resort like it didn’t belong.

He pushed the door open. Ding!

Cool air washed over him in an instant, as he was met with the sight of a store that looked entirely untoached. The floors were spotless, the shelves stocked, and fridges lined the walls of the back. Compared to the rest of the island, everything was practically gleaming.

"...What the actual fuck," Owada said, eyes wide. He wandered down an aisle, brushing his hand across rows of chips and candy bars, almost like he didn’t believe they were real. "How’s this place fine when the rest of the island looks like a freakin’ junkyard?"

Toward the back, Hoshi leaned against a candy display, a lollipop sticking out of his mouth as he dropped a few bags into a basket. Kirigiri stood nearby, eyes scanning each aisle.

"Clearly, someone is maintaining this building," she said, her voice flat. "The question is who… and why."

Owada turned toward her, still trying to make sense of it. "I don’t really care why, but damn am I happy to see it." He grabbed a cold soda from a fridge and cracked it open.

Hoshi watched him passively. After a pause, he spoke, not looking directly at him. "You gonna pay for that?"

"Huh?" Owada blinked, just now noticing him. "Oh shit..." He snorted. "Holy crap, man, I didn’t even see ya."

Hoshi shifted the lollipop to the other side of his mouth. "You gonna pay for that?" he asked again, nodding at the can. "I can cover you if you want."

Owada raised a brow. "Uh... alright, go for it, man. I don’t see anybody running this place though, so I doubt you gotta."

"Doesn’t hurt to be sure."

Owada chuckled. "Yeah, whatever you say, dude. I ain’t worrying ‘bout it." He started pulling bags of chips off the shelves. "If they wanna give me shit for it, I’ll tell ‘em it’s their own damn fault for leaving the place empty."

"You sure that’s a good idea?" Hoshi asked.

Owada shrugged. "Who cares? If someone wants to act all superior, I’ll tell ‘em to screw off."

Hoshi looked at him, then blinked. "You’ve got a short fuse, don’t you?"

Owada stopped mid-step. His grip tightened on the soda can. "...The hell’s that supposed to mean?"

Hoshi didn’t flinch, just dropping another candy bag into his basket and shrugging. "Just sayin’. Keep blowing up at everyone, it’s gonna catch up with you."

Owada stared at him a moment, and for a second, it looked like he might shout again. Instead, he let out a low groan and took another drink. "...Yeah, whatever," he muttered.

Kirigiri said nothing, but her eyes shifted between them. Then she turned and continued her quiet sweep of the shelves.

Hoshi sits low in the chair, arms resting on his knees. He stares at the ground for a long, long time, till eventually he finally gives the camera a stern look. "…I’ve been around the block a couple times. Done a lotta things, seen even more. I know I’m young, but… it feels like I’ve lived twice my years already." He exhales slowly, rolling the lollipop between his teeth. "World’s thrown me plenty of crap, and I’ve had to lie in the mess I made for myself more than once. That’s just how it goes."

He shrugs faintly, gaze drifting away from the camera. "Maybe this place’ll be different. But… I doubt it."

Owari leaned over a wooden fence, locked in a silent stare with a cow, a thin line of drool dripping from her chin. “C’monnnnnn…” she groaned. “Turn into a hamburger already…”

The cow blinked slowly and kept chewing its grass.

Owari narrowed her eyes. “Traitor.”

Behind her, Gonta stepped into view, beaming. His arms were full of buzzing hives, tucked under his arms as he got closer to the farm, eventually spotting the cows and beaming a smile. “Wow! These creatures look so healthy! Where are we?”

Owari lazily pointed to a nearby sign. Hatchet Corral, it read, with a butcher’s axe painted in red across the top.

Gonta's smile faded. “…Oh. I see…”

Owari glanced back and noticed the hives in his arms. “…Uh. What the hell are those for?”

“Oh!” Gonta said, cheerful again. “Gonta’s just moving these bugs! They were near Miss Celeste’s home, and Gonta didn’t want them to bother her. There’s a forest nearby, so maybe this is a good place to leave them.”

Owari slammed her fists together with a grin. “Sweet! And hey, maybe while you’re here, we can get in a rematch? I’m all pumped up and bored, so let’s go!”

Gonta shook his head firmly, though his smile stayed gentle. “Gonta really is quite sorry, Miss Owari. But Gonta just isn’t a fighter. Gonta doesn’t like hurting people.”

Owari groaned and tugged at her hair. “But c’moooon! Just one round! I’ll even go easy on ya!”

“I really don’t—”

“Come on, man! Don’t be so lame.”

“No.” Gonta’s voice stated sternly. “Gonta’s really sorry, but that’s that.”

Owari let out a louder groan and slumped against the fence as Gonta walked farther into the corral, still cradling the hives. “Man… boring…”

A moment later, Chabashira jogged into view, looking around in a panic. “Owari! Did you see Yumeno pass through here?! I lost her!”

“Nah, sorry dude.”

Chabashira’s hands shook. “Oh no! I… I can’t believe I was so useless as to lose her out here, alone, on this dangerous, massive island—”

“Dude, chill,” Owari said, waving her off. “Give it, like, a half hour. She’ll probably show up at lunch.” She clutched her stomach and groaned. “…Speaking of which, I could really use that right now…”

Chabashira turned her head and saw Owari still watching Gonta in the field. Her eyes narrowed. “Did he do something to you?”

“What? Nah, nah!” Owari snapped back. “Just sucks he won’t fight me.” Then her face lit up. “Oh! Hey! You did that badass move on the dock! Wanna go a round?!”

Chabashira froze. Her face turned bright red as she waved her arms wildly. “What?! Absolutely not! H-Hurting a girl?! Never, I—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Owari waved her off and sank back down against the fence. “Ughhhh, I’m sooo boooored!”

"Man, this place freaking sucks so far!" Owari sprawls sideways in the chair. "I thought it was gonna be cool, y’know? Meet some tough new people to fight, chow down on good food, maybe even find a decent place to nap!" She throws her hands up, groaning loudly. "But nooo, it’s just been a whole lotta sitting around and waiting!"

She leans forward, eyes wide with frustration. "Well... whatever. Even if I ain't getting much action yet, I got like... a whole Summer to figure out shit to do, y'know? So like, I'll deal with it... especially if money's waiting for me at the end of all this." She clenched a fist. "That kinda cash... it could change my life. So you better bet your ass I'll fight for it 'till the bitter end!"

Soda pushed through the thick brush, stumbling and gasping for breath as the buzz of insects faded behind him at last. He bent over, hands on his knees, wheezing like he might throw up. “Ohhh man… never… running again… screw cardio…”

He forced himself to breathe deep, steadying his shaking arms. When he finally looked up, his eyes went wide. "...Wait. No way."

Ahead of him stretched a massive, open field where dozens of airplanes sat neatly in rows. Their metal frames were worn but still intact, and a faded sign above an air hanger read: Jabberwock Airport.

Soda’s jaw dropped, before he threw his arms in the air like a kid in a toy store. “An airport?! W-With real, actual planes?! Holy crap, this is sweet!” He ran onto the tarmac, circling one of the planes in excitement. “Oh man, I gotta grab my tools! Maybe I can take these babies apart, get some parts for my ride—”

A loud clank echoed from above. Soda looked up just in time to see Iruma pop her head out of the cockpit. He screamed and ducked back, making her burst into laughter.

“Pfft, wow! That was so freaking wimpy. Gonna go run off to your mommy?” Soda stiffened, face flushed with embarrassment. Before he could answer, she cut in again. “Oh yeah, dumbass, seen anybody walking away from this place on your way over?”

“Uhhh… no?”

“Great. Fucking faaaantastic.” She groaned and slapped the side of the plane. “Some asshole already yanked all the engines outta these things. Now they’re just useless junk.”

Soda’s grin faltered for a second. Then he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Eh, still plenty of good stuff left to strip. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Iruma tilted her head, leaning halfway out of the window. “…The hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Oh, uh, I wanted to salvage some of this stuff for a pet project. See, I’m a mechanic, so—”

Iruma burst out laughing, doubling over. “HAHAHA! You? A mechanic?! What, you change a tire once and now you’re freakin’ Einstein?”

Soda’s smile faded. His brow furrowed.

She leaned forward, sneering. “Pathetic. I bet your scrawny ass couldn’t screw in a lightbulb without directions, let alone fix a car or mess with any of these bad boys.” She smacked at the plane mockingly. “Hell, you’re probably the guy who strips the bolts ‘cause you don’t know your own damn torque. Amateur hour!”

He tried to laugh it off, hand still at the back of his head. “Heh, c’mon, don’t gotta be like that…”

Iruma wasn’t done. “I bet you only call yourself a mechanic ‘cause you helped your dad throw together one of those shitty wooden carts for the scouts or something! Just some trash-tier grease monkey, absolute bottom of the tool belt!”

Soda’s expression hardened. “Hey! Enough with that crap!” he snapped. “You think you’re the only one who knows their way around a wrench?! I bust my ass with this stuff too, y’know!”

The words hit her like a slap and her smirk was erased instantly. For a moment, she looked smaller, her eyes darting away as she pulled her goggles down over her face. “…Pffft. W-well, duh. Of course you do,” she muttered. “Not like I care. You’re just… beneath me, anyway.”

Soda blinked. “...Huh?”

“Just… forget it.” She scrambled out of the cockpit, nearly tripping over her gear. Without another word, she ran off across the tarmac, head low and hands tight around her body.

Soda stared after her, completely lost. “…The hell was that about?” he mumbled, scratching his head.

Iruma leans back in the chair with her legs spread wide, grinning smugly at the camera. "Yeah, yeah, this whole show’s beneath me. But who cares? There’s a fat stack of cash at the end, and I’ll gladly take it." She waves a hand dismissively. "My investors have been bailing lately. They have no patience for real innovation, those dumbasses. You can’t just whip up a hookup counter overnight!"

She jabs a finger at the camera, grinning wider. "It takes finesse! Genius! And lucky for you losers, you’re lookin’ at both."

Pekoyama knelt on a mossy patch deep in the forest.

Her eyes were closed, her bamboo sword rested across her lap as she drew in a slow, even breath. The trees above swayed gently, and in the distance, cicadas buzzed in the still air.

After a moment, she rose to her feet. And with one fluid motion, she slid the sword free. She began to move through a kata, her cuts slicing through the thick air with precision. Each movement followed the last in a strict pattern, exhaling through her nose and adjusting her stance as needed.

Another swing. Then another.

Her expression tightened, her grip hardened. The rhythm grew loose in time, more tense than calm as her brow furrowed; she was losing focus. Enough so that, for her own sake more than anything, she forced herself to a sudden stop.

A sigh slipped from her lips.

Pekoyama sits perfectly upright, hands folded neatly in her lap. "…I suppose I’ll need to spend my time here differently than I expected this summer. That will be… unusual for me. "I’m not unfamiliar with the idea of… enjoying myself, of course. But I rarely find need for it outside of my duties."

She lowers her gaze briefly, then looks back to the camera with resolve. "Still… I promised I would find a way to occupy myself. So I will. If not for my sake, then for his."

Tanaka stomped through the mud, the earth still wet from storms that had passed days ago. Before him stretched a forgotten cemetery, half-swallowed by wild vegetation as thick vines wrapped around cracked headstones. It was a place long abandoned, time having claimed it without resistance.

He sneered as he moved forward. "All civilizations are destined to collapse. Nothing begets existence, and existence begets nothing..."

With a scoff, he pressed deeper into the burial ground. Dozens of graves lay crumbling under layers of moss, but four of them stood out, shattered completely, broken into scattered chunks of stone.

"Earthly defiance of the basics of death," he muttered, smirking. "How amusing... if foolish." A deep chuckle rose from his throat.

Then he stopped.

A sound; soft chittering in the brush. He turned toward the edge of the forest, watching the leaves rustle, and he caught a bit of movement Then he saw them; small, furry little beasts, slipping between weeds.

His grin returned. "Rodents. Perfect..."

From inside his coat, he pulled out a familiar bag of seeds. His expression softened as he crouched near the shattered graves, poured a single seed into his hand, and held it out. "Come now, little beast... do not be shy."

A shift in the brush, then one emerged. One that was white and orange. It stared at him for several moments before scurrying forward, grabbing the seed and nibbling without fear.

Tanaka blinked. "...A hamster?"

But the rustling hadn't stopped. From the shadows, three more appeared; brown and white, grey and white, and one larger than the rest, golden-orange and round. They ran toward him, gathering around his hand, tugging and nibbling at the food together.

He watched them with growing amazement. "Strange..." he murmured. "It never even occurred to me this sort of species could be running around out here." He poured more seeds into his palm, stroking his chin with thought. "There must be some explanation for this..."

His gaze shifted back to the shattered graves. Then it hit him, and his eyes lit up.

"But of course... you are no mere rodents. You are spirits revived from Hell itself! You are to act as my guardians on this journey of mine..." The four hamsters squeaked in unison, their beady eyes bright with energy. Tanaka's voice thundered with triumph. "Well then, names are in order."

He lifted the orange-and-white one into the air. "You shall be San-D!"

His hand turned to the brown-and-white. "And you, Maga-Z!"

Next, the grey-and-white. "Jum-P!"

At last, he raised the massive golden-orange hamster with both hands, as if presenting it to the gods. "And you, Cham-P!"

He gathered all four into his arms and turned toward the sky. His scarf whipped in the wind as his voice echoed across the cemetery. "Let it be known, world; this twisted game shall not defeat me! I, Gundham Tanaka, shall rule this island and destroy all who oppose me!" He brought the furry beasts up, allowing them crawl into the inner confines of his scarf. "Join me, my Four Dark Devas of Destruction, in utter defiance of the world above!"

The hamsters posed alongside him, squeaking loudly, their tiny bodies radiating unstoppable energy as their newfound owner cackled. Even beneath the heavy shade of the trees, they seemed to glow with untold power.

And just beyond the vines, Sonia stood on the path, watching this dispaly. Her hands covered her mouth, eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. Then, quietly, she turned and walked away with a smile, leaving Tanaka and his "guardians" alone in their glory.

"Greetings to the people of Novoselic!" Sonia beams warmly at the camera. "I promise I shall do right by you all." She places a hand over her heart, her tone earnest. "I am aware that our kingdom receives very little representation in mainstream media, and so I must ensure that those watching at home see us for what we truly are: kind, welcoming, and worthy of respect.

She smiles brightly, giving a small nod. "So, please… wish me luck!" She giggled. “Not that I’ll need it!”

Harukawa sat at the edge of the beach, right where the tide touched the sand. She sat cross-legged, arms folded across her knees, staring out at the horizon. Only the sound of waves kept her company…

At least until bootsteps crunched behind her, and a loud voice broke the quiet. "Yo! Funny you thought to come out here too."

Her shoulders tensed. She didn’t turn around as Momota dropped into the sand beside her. "Pretty sweet view, huh? Figures they’d stick us on a run-down island, but at least the beach is still primo."

Harukawa said nothing.

Momota tilted his head. "…Not much of a talker, huh?" He shrugged. "That’s cool. I can cover for you." He laughed at his own joke, then leaned back on his elbows, eyes on the sea. "So, what’s your take on the game so far?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

"Don’t really got one yet?"

Harukawa turned her head slightly.

Momota chuckled again, but this time it was quieter. "Yeah, I don’t blame ya… definitely feels pretty surreal, you know? Certainly ain’t ever experienced something like it before myself… but hey! Maybe that’s what’ll make it fun, y’know?"

"No."

He blinked, caught off guard.

Harukawa stood up, brushing sand from her skirt as she sent the boy a glare. "In case it wasn’t obvious," she said, "I came out here to be left alone." She turned to leave. "And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be getting back to that." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked toward the cottages.

Momota stayed where he was, watching her go. He scratched the back of his head. "...What’s her deal?"

Momota sits forward in the chair, grinning wide. "This game? Man, it’s gonna be one hell of an adventure! And that’s what I’m all about; big experiences! I’ve never been the type to just sit around and wait for life to happen. If I want something, I go for it, head-on, like a real man!"

He points at the camera, voice brimming with confidence. "That’s how I’ve chased my dreams, and that’s how I’ll win this thing. You get in my way, I’ll just barrel right through! I’ve got too much waiting for me back home to settle for anything but first place—"

He suddenly coughs, covering his mouth with his hand. His smile flickers for a second as he glares at the wall, then looks back at the camera with renewed fire. "…I will win. Count on it."

Hiro dragged his feet across the long bridge, groaning as he walked.By the time he reached the other side, he looked ready to collapse. "Man… that was way longer than it looked," he panted. Then he straightened up, grinning. "But hey! Whole new island! Jackpot."

The island ahead was much smaller than the main one. It was lush and quiet, with trees growing wild along cracked stone paths. Hiro wandered through what looked like an old central park, where weeds pushed through every corner. He whistled as he strolled, hands in his pockets. Then he stopped. "...Whoa."

In the middle of the park stood a huge bronze statue, at least twenty feet tall. It was hard to make sense of it at first; a man rode a horse, the horse stomped down on a giant snake, and the snake was being attacked by a tiger, and above them all, an eagle spread its wings wide.

Hiro scratched his head. "...What the hell am I even lookin’ at?"

"Fascinating, isn’t it?"

Hiro jumped and turned. Shinguji stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the statue. "Behold… the eternal struggle, immortalized. The rider on the horse, man’s attempt to control the natural world. The serpent, consequences waiting to strike. The tiger, pure instinct. And above them all, the eagle; freedom watching from above, circling, never landing."

Shinguji's eyes glinted behind the mask. "It is a story about what we are; always reaching for something we can’t seem to find. Life chewing on itself just to keep going."

Hiro looked up at the statue again. After a long pause, he rubbed the back of his head and laughed quietly. "Man, that’s… creepy as hell. But I kinda dig it?" Shinguji tilted his head, curious. Hiro pointed toward the eagle. "So like, if the eagle’s watchin’, does that mean it’s the future? Or fate? Maybe aliens?"

Shinguji gave a quiet chuckle. "An amusing interpretation. Perhaps you are not as oblivious as you seem."

"Hey, thanks, man," Hiro said, grinning.

They stood side by side, both looking up at the statue.

"...Think it’d look cooler if they gave the horse sunglasses, though." Hiro eventually added.

Shinguji hummed softly. The edges of his eyes crinkled, just a little, as if he were smiling beneath the mask.

"I adore humanity." Shinguji's masked face tilts slightly toward the camera. "Its cultures, its quirks, its passions… they’re endlessly tantalizing." He gestures faintly with one hand. "This game will be no trouble for me to endure, of that, I am certain. But what truly fascinates me is not my own struggle…"

He leans forward slightly, eyes glinting behind the mask. "It is how the others will suffer, adapt, and reveal themselves. That is what makes this worth every moment."

Kuwata blinked in disbelief as he stared up at the strange monument hidden in the clearing. A huge carved rock rose above him, with four massive faces chiseled into the stone. Each one showed the same man: Chris McLean. One face smirked, another winked, a third laughed, and the last scowled.

Kuwata snorted. "...Wow. And people say I’ve got an ego."

Chris couldn't help but chuckle, before shrugging, "Nothing was in the thing, so I just thought, 'why not treat myself'." He let out another chuckle to himself.

He ran a hand through his spiky red hair, turning away from the monument to glance around the rest of the park. The area was was wide with large patches of grass, a few benches, and just enough open space to make him think of something... familiar.

His eyes narrowed. "No. Not why you’re here, man." His gaze shifted and landed on Maizono sitting on a bench with her legs crossed, sunlight catching in her blue hair as she stared out at the scene. In an instant, Kuwata straightened up, pushing his shoulders back and letting his usual confidence return. "Heeeeeeeeeeeey, Maizono!"

She looked up, giving the boy a smile. "Hi… Kuwata, right?"

He stepped forward, leaning his arm across the back of the bench with a smirk. "You know it!" As he tried to lean closer, he nearly slipped, but he caught himself just in time and laughed it off. "So, uh, how’s your walkabout gone?"

Maizono shifted, still smiling gently as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "It’s been fine." She giggled softly. "Lots of new and… interesting people to meet."

"Yeah, totally," Kuwata said, nodding fast. "Y’know, speaking of interesting. May I say, I got pretty dang lucky having a chance to run into you."

"Oh! Are you a fan?"

"Nope!"

Maizono flinched slightly at how fast he answered.

"Buuuut, I am a bit of an up-and-coming musician, if you know what I mean." He scratched at the back of his head. "But y’know how it is. It’s real rough out here for new talent, soooo I was wondering if you had any advice, or maybe a connection you could hook a bro up with?" He winked at her, trying to sell it. Her smile faltered just a bit.

Before either of them could say more, a crackle echoed through the clearing. The park’s speakers came to life, and Chris’s voice boomed overhead. "Attention campers, report back to the hotel! Lunch is served!"

Maizono stood in one smooth motion. "We should go."

Kuwata blinked. "W-Wait, hold on! We didn’t even…" He grinned, jogging after her. "Hey, wait up, I’ll walk with ya!"

"Yeah, auditioning for this? Kinda an impulse move, not gonna lie." Kuwata leans back in the chair, arms folded behind his head. "Something was about to start up back home, and I… uh… wanted an excuse to dodge it." He shrugs, then points at the camera with both hands, grin widening. "But hey, doesn’t matter now! Once I bring home that prize money, I’ll never have to worry about that crap again!"

He leans forward. "I’ll finally get to make my own choices, live my own life, and do things my way! So pay attention, world, ‘cause Kuwata’s bringing his all! WOOH!"

On the second floor of Hotel Mirai, a drumline beat like a march as the double doors swung open. The campers stood in a line of a small cafe area.

Behind the serving counter towered a giant of a man in a white apron and tall chef’s hat, with arms as thicks as tree trunks with eyes as cold as stone. "Listen up!" he shouted, his voice booming over the crowd. "My name… is Chef Hatchet! I serve food three times a day, and you will eat it three times a day! So grab your tray, get your food, and sit your butts down, now!"

At the front of the line, Ishimaru stood at attention and raised his hand stiffly. "Excuse me, sir! Will we be ensured all required food groups in our meals? A balanced diet is crucial for maintaining both peak performance and morale!"

Chef Hatchet’s eye twitched. He slammed a scoop of reddish-brown sludge onto Ishimaru’s tray. It landed with a splat, and the plate almost flipped. "You’ll be getting a full serving of shut the hell up, boy scout!" Hatchet snapped. "Next!"

Ishimaru saluted before quickly moving along. Kuzuryu stepped up next, his scowl deep as always as he looked down at the food with disgust.

Chef Hatchet narrowed his eyes. "What’s with the look, short stuff? Got somethin’ to say?"

Kuzuryu snapped, "Yeah, this food looks like shit."

Hatchet didn’t flinch. He slapped two scoops of the same meat onto Kuzuryu’s tray, cracking the plastic with the force. "Good, you’ll be eatin’ double. Builds character… next!”

Kuzuryu snarled under his breath and walked off.

Enoshima came next, leaning close to Chabashira beside her, whispering something with a smirk.

Chef Hatchet noticed immediately. "Hey, pigtails! What’cha whisperin’ about?"

Enoshima paused, eyes wide, her smile twitching. "Uh, nothing! Just, uh… admiring the décor."

Chef Hatchet yanked the tray from her hand and slammed food onto it, never breaking eye contact. "You admire it quietly, or you can admire it while cleaning dishes. Your choice."

Enoshima closed her mouth fast and walked away without another word.

Enoshima leans toward the camera with a bright grin, flashing a peace sign. "Heyyy, what’s up, world? Your girl’s ready to run this game! I’m like, a total people person; I know how to work a crowd, and how to get what I want. Plus, I’m in shape, I’m smart, I’m basically the full package." She twirls a lock of hair, smirking. "So yeah, good luck to the rest of ‘em, but honestly? I’ve got this in the bag.”

A close-up of Celeste’s tray revealed a red-brown lump that barely looked like food. She stared at it, eyes full of disdain. "Is it even legal to serve this?" she asked. She made a small motion to push the tray back. "I simply refuse to partake in anything that—"

"Don’t," Kirigiri said flatly from behind her.

Celeste blinked, caught off guard. Kirigiri gave a small nod toward the counter. Chef Hatchet was watching them, his eye twitching, jaw tight, like he was holding something in.

Celeste paused. Her lips pressed into a thin line. With a soft “tsk,” she picked up her tray and turned away. "Barbaric," she muttered under her breath.

Kirigiri stepped forward. She took her tray without a word, but paused when she saw what was on it. Her calm expression shifted slightly; the lump of food on her plate moved. "It appears to be… alive," she said quietly.

Chef Hatchet said nothing. He reached behind the counter, grabbed a heavy mallet, and brought it down with a violent crash. The tray shook, and bits of food splattered across the counter, and across Kirigiri’s face.

For a moment, she just stood there, blinking. Her hands trembled as she wiped the mess away with the back of her sleeve.

"Not anymore it don’t." Chef Hatchet tossed the mallet aside with a grunt. "Next!"

Kirigiri walked off stiffly. Further down the line, Ibuki bounced on her toes next to Pekoyama, trying to fill the silence. "Sooo, how’d your day go?” Pekoyama didn’t answer.

“...Talk to any hot guys? Or y’know, girls? Either is cool, Ibuki is right there with you!”

Pekoyama didn’t even look at her.

Ibuki's smile faded a little. She shifted her weight, laughed nervously, and let out a sigh. "…Yeesh. Tough crowd."

"Hey, rockstar! Move it!"

Ibuki squeaked, grabbed a tray, and quickly shuffled forward.

"AAAAHH, Ibuki is so pumped!" Ibuki bounces in the chair, grinning at the camera camera. "This is gonna be, like, the coolest thing ever! Everyone I’ve met so far has been totally awesome, and I can’t wait for all the challenges and the teamwork and gahhh, it’s so exciting!"

She leans forward, eyes sparkling. "I don’t even care if I win, honestly, I just wanna have a blast! Oooh, maybe I can even start a band while I’m here! That’d make this, like, the BEST! SUMMER! EVER!"

The dining hall at Hotel Mirai was quiet, save for the scrape of metal against trays and the low hum of the lights. The Killer Bass sat near the kitchen, while the Screaming Gophers gathered closer to the door, though regardless of table, most stared down at their food with looks of dread. On one tray, a meat-like patty slowly slid off a bun. It dropped to the floor, rolled once, then crawled away between the tables. No one said a word.

The doors opened with a swing, and Chris strolled into the room. "How's the food, everyone?" he called.

Owada slouched forward and gave him a tired glare. "Man… couldn't you have just ordered us a pizza or something?"

A loud thwack answered him as a cleaver flew past his head and buried itself in the wall behind him. From the kitchen, Chef Hatchet glared at the boy, eyes burning with hate. Owada froze, turning to stare at the blade in the wall, and the thoughts that began stewing in his head made his face red with rage.

He twisted himself to face the kitchen, barking out, “What the hell was that?!” He shot up from his chair. “You tryin’ to start something, old man?!”

Chef didn't need to answer the boy, instead letting his action speak for itself. Gripping the counter, Chef leaned his full weight out of the passthrough, and for the first time, the campers saw his full scale. While he had obviously been fairly tall, being so up-close revealed him to be truly massive, with broad shoulders and arms to match, and large scars running up and down his forearms. He made Gonta look small in comparison.

Owada froze mid-step, his mouth hanging open in horror at the man's size.

"You wanted somethin', son?" Chef asked, narrowing his eyes at Owada in expectation.

Owada swallowed hard. For a second, it looked like he might still go for it, but instead he took his seat once more, muttering something under his breath as he slowly turned away. Togami, meanwhile, cut neatly through the last of his food with his fork and knife, having made quick work of his lunch. As soon as he was done, he glanced across the table at Owada’s untouched tray. "Are you going to eat that?"

Owada pushed the tray over. "Knock yourself out."

Togami smirked and dug in.

Enoshima watched him with raised brows, clearly amused. "How can you possibly eat that garbage?" she asked.

...only to cringe at the sound of mashing teeth. At the end of the table, Owari was already halfway through her third bun. She paused mid-bite, noticing the stares. "...What?"

Chris clapped again from the center of the room. "Alright, wrap it up!" he said. "Your first challenge begins..." He turned toward the door, pausing for effect. Then he raised one finger into the air. "...In one hour!"

At the Bass table, Yumeno slouched forward, stirring her food with a spoon. "What do you think he’s gonna make us do?" she asked dully.

Ishimaru sat upright, and raised a fist. "Whatever it may be, we will face it with courage and discipline! It is nothing we cannot handle!"

"Historically, competition has always been a sacred test of discipline and integrity!" Ishimaru sits straight in the chair, hands planted firmly on his knees. "Yet already I have witnessed shocking levels of disorganization and misconduct among my peers. But I will not be discouraged!"

He raises a fist, voice booming. "I will act as a shining beacon of justice, a pillar for my team to rally around, and together we shall rise above all obstacles! I am ready for anything," he leans into the camera, shouting with all his might "ANYTHING!"

One hour later, the campers found themselves at the edge of a rocky cliffside, all dressed in various swimsuits as the wind whipped past them, sending loose stones skittering down the slope.

Ishimaru stood at the front of the group, fists clenched as his eyes were fixed on the drop below. The cliff stretched high above the ocean, and far beneath them, waves crashed violently against jagged rocks. The camera pulled back again, showing just how small the campers looked against the vast blue sky. The cliff seemed to go on forever...

Ishimaru’s voice drifted up through the wind, barely louder than a whisper. "...Oh, s-shit."

The camera flickers slightly as Kirigiri leans in, fingers working at its side. There’s a faint click as she pries something loose and slips it into her pocket. She sits back, and stares directly into the lens.

"…No comment."

Chapter Text

The staff trailer door slammed open as four interns stumbled inside, drenched in sweat as they stumbled through the room toward anything they could rest their aching bodies upon.

The sole girl of the group, a blonde, collapsed onto one of the beds. “Ughh… never again,” she muttered, curling up onto it and dragging herself across the sheets.

Another intern, the brunette boy, flopped into a chair. “‘Light hauling,’ Chris said. ‘Just a couple crates,’ he said.” He groaned. “I think my spine’s broken.”

The last of the unnamed interns, a pale boy, sat cross-legged on the floor, tugging off his cap with a grunt. “If it makes you feel better, Hinata… I think mine snapped two hours ago.”

Hinata snorted. “Ain’t a competition, Saihara.” Saihara blushed a little at the comment.

Naegi chuckled weakly, taking a seat on another bed as he rubbed his arms. “Hey, at least it’s done,” he said. “From here on out, the camera crew handles the rest, right?”

“That’s what they said yesterday too,” Hinata replied, leaning back and covering his eyes. “We’ll see.” He peeked upward. “Akamatsu, mind flicking off the light?”

The blonde girl, Akamatsu, stretched out an arm and turned off the switch, then rolled onto her side. “Just… give me ten minutes,” she mumbled. “Ten… that’s all I ask.”

“You might wanna ask for twenty,” Saihara said quietly.

Hinata rolled his eyes at the two, though when he glanced at Naegi, he couldn’t help but notice the blank look on his face. “…You good, man? You’ve been spaced out since the dock.”

Naegi blinked, then quickly shook his head. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Just… y’know,” he leaned back, “thinking about someone I knew back home.”

“Girlfriend?” Akamatsu mumbled, half-asleep.

Naegi stiffened, his face going red as he forced a laugh and waved his hands. “N-No! Nothing like that! Just… an old friend, that’s all.” As the laugh faded, he found his eyes turning toward the window. “That’s all…”

EPISODE #2—NOT SO HAPPY CAMPERS, PART 2

Maizono stood near the cliff’s edge, her eyes peering over at the ocean below, her expression noticeably paling at the sheer drop.

“…It’s so high…” she whispered to herself.

Nearby, Ishimaru found his fists tightening at his sides as sweat slid down his temple. “F-Fear is a natural reaction to danger,” he shouted. “But we shall overcome it with courage and perseverance! Stand tall, everyone!”

Owada let out a laugh a bit too loud, panic edging in as he said, “Oh yeah? Big words from someone who looks about two seconds from pissin’ himself.”

“N-Nonsense!” Ishimaru barked, spinning toward him. “My bladder control is impeccable!”

Chabashira crossed her arms, glaring at both of them. “Quit pretending you’re fearless,” she snapped at Owada. “We can all see you shaking.”

Owada turned on her as his smirk dropped. “Oh yeah? Big talk from someone who looks ready to hurl.”

Chabashira bristled, ignoring her shaking feet to stomp toward him. “Better than pretending like I’m some big strong man,” she snapped back.

“Settle down, drama queens.” Chris strolled in from behind the contestants. “Save the catfight for when the cameras are rolling.” His eyes sweeped over the group with a smirk as he reached the front. “Gotta say, glad to see you all took my advice on the swimsuits.” His eyes flicked briefly to Owari. “Especially you. Points for enthusiasm.”

Owari tilted her head, then her expression twisted into a scowl. “Don’t be a creep, dude.”

Chris chuckled and waved it off. “Anyway! Here’s how this works; your first challenge is twofold. For the first part…” He swept an arm toward the massive drop behind him. “Jump off this thousand-foot cliff, straight into the water below!”

A collective gasp went through the group.

“Dude, what?!” Kuwata’s eyes bulged. “You’d straight-up die from that height!”

Chris shrugged. “Eh, maybe I exaggerated a little for the cameras. Who’s counting, right? It’s still pretty high though.”

“...F-Fair point,” Ibuki said with a nervous laugh, hugging herself. “It’s still… super high.”

“Pfft, please,” Momota said, throwing on a grin and nudging her with his elbow. “This’ll be a piece of cake!”

Chris pointed at him. “Love the enthusiasm, dude! But don’t get ahead of yourself, cause that’s not all.”

He gestured downward. A camera swooped down the cliff, showing the dizzying drop to the sea below as two target zones came into view: a wide ring of floating buoys and a much smaller circle inside it.

“Down below, you’ll notice two marked zones,” Chris said, still grinning. “The larger circle is stocked with psychotic, man-eating sharks.”

Tanaka scoffed and adjusted his scarf. “Psychotic? Please…” he muttered. “Sharks are magnificent beasts.”

“The smaller ring is your target,” Chris continued. “That’s the safe zone, and totally shark-free… or at least we’re pretty sure it is.”

“Pretty sure?!” Enoshima shrieked.

“For those who jump and… survive,” Chris continued, ignoring the nervous crowd, “you’ll find crates waiting on the beach below.”

The camera panned down the cliff to the sand, where dozens of battered wooden crates sat.

“Inside are supplies for phase two of the challenge,” Chris continued. “Building your very own hot tub.”

“Oh, dude! A build challenge?!” Soda’s face lit up. “That’s totally up my alley!”

Iruma snorted and elbowed him hard. “Hah! Please. As if you’re fit to build anything worthwhile.” She leaned toward his face. “Just stand back when the time comes so I can work my magic, dork.”

“H-hey, I could…” Soda started.

“You could watch while I work and maybe learn something,” Iruma cut in while smirking.

Chris clapped his hands, calling the group back to attention. “Once both teams finish, I’ll decide whose hot tub rules, and whose… well, drools. The winners get a wicked party tonight! But the losers?” Chris’s grin stretched wider. “They’ll be sending someone home.”

“The hell?!” Owada snapped. “Someone’s going home this early?!”

“That’s reality TV, man,” Chris said, unfazed. “No time for baby steps, you knew what you signed up for.” The camera lingered on the group’s nervous faces. “Aaaand with all that said… Killer Bass, you’re up first!”

The camera cut to the Bass lineup, standing near the cliff’s edge. Owada peeked over, then jerked back fast. “So, uhh… who wants to go first?”

Every Bass member looked at each other, not a single one moving or even daring to speak up beyond a momentary cough.

Nearby on the Gophers, Hiro found himself chuckling. “Relax, dudes, you don’t gotta sweat this too hard.”

“Are you sure its a wise idea to support the enemy?” Shinguji questioned with a hum.

“I’m just saying man, I think we’re all freaking out a little too much here,” Hiro continued with a shrug. “Shows like this always make the interns do it first to make sure it’s not, y’know, deadly. So if it got approved, we should be fine.”

The thought Hiro suggested hit Maizono hard, and she found herself glancing down at the water, hand tightening on her arm. A flash of Naegi jumping crossed her mind…

Ibuki noticed as much. “Hey, you good?”

Maizono snapped back into a smile and waved it off. “Yeah, totally. Just… cold.”

“Okay. Just makin’ sure, roomie.” Ibuki grinned.

The camera snapped back to Chris, who gestured toward the cliff grinning. “Alright, Bass. Someone’s gotta take the plunge, so who’s it gonna be?”

Ishimaru stepped forward. “I shall go first! As team leader, it is only right that I take the initiative and set a proper example for my comrades!”

Owada blinked. “Leader? Since when were you in charge, man?”

Momota laughed, arms folded. “Yeah, dude, we didn’t vote for that.”

Ishimaru straightened. “The position of leadership does not require a vote when one takes it upon themselves through merit and fortitude!”

Enoshima rolled her eyes. “Translation: ‘Because I said so.’”

Ishimaru ignored her, squaring his shoulders and marching toward the cliff. But the closer he got, the more his confidence cracked. “Alright… I can do this… I can absolutely do this…” he muttered.

He looked over the cliff and froze. His knees noticeably started to shake as he stared down at the crashing waves far, far below…

Owada smirked. “Still thinkin’ about doin’ it, ‘leader’? You’re lookin’ a little pale there.”

Owari burst into laughter. “C’mon, man! You talk big, so let’s see big!”

“S-Silence!” Ishimaru barked back. “I need complete concentration and your racket is distracting me! I shall… I shall jump momentarily!”

Behind him, Chabashira let out a scoff, “Pathetic,” she brushed past him, “I’m not waiting around all day for some guy to make a fool of himself.”

Ishimaru stumbled back, his face flushing a bright red. “P-Pathetic?! I am merely taking a moment to ensure my safety!”

Chabashira didn’t bother replying. Instead, she took several steps back, braced herself… then sprinted full force toward the cliff’s edge.

Owada’s eyes went wide. “Yo, wait, she’s actually—”

She jumped.

The team rushed forward, running right to the edge to watch their teammate fall toward the sea below.

Chabashira’s hair whipped back as wind smashed against her falling form with increasing speed. As she got closer and closer to the water, she tightened her frame, angling forward into a perfect dive and piercing the water with a splash.

After a moment, she resurfaced with a gasp. With a heavy breath, she looked around her… then managed a thumbs up toward the sky.

Cheers erupted from above, the Killer Bass cheering on their teammate. That is, with the exception of Ishimaru, who hadn’t so much as moved an inch as he stared down at the sea below.

“Yeah, I’ve met hundreds of guys like Ishimaru,” Chabashira huffed with crossed arms, “second things get dangerous, they start shaking in their boots like big babies.” She rolled her eyes. “Like, seriously, if you’re gonna call yourself a leader, you better be ready to act like one.” She smirks. “Guess its a good thing I was around. Someone had to show these boys what actual guts look like.”

Ishimaru’s head is slumped against the wall, his whole body shaking. “Unacceptable… absolutely unacceptable!” He slams a fist against his knee. “As a leader, I was supposed to demonstrate unwavering compromise to my peers! And instead… I-I froze.”

He grips his knee with one hand before cradling his face with the other. “Nerves are no excuse! A true man must overcome his fear, not be controlled by it!” He suddenly straightens out. “But mark my words, this was merely a momentary lapse!”

Chabashira was still treading water in the safe zone, catching her breath as the cheers echoed from above. Ishimaru watched her every move, face increasingly tightening with internal frustration.

Eventually, he snapped out of it when Momota clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up too hard, man. Some people just got guts.”

Ishimaru’s jaw clenched, shame brewing as he threw up a fist and shouted out for all to hear, “Then so shall I!”

Momota’s smirk dropped as Ishimaru bolted forward without warning, sprinting past him and launching off the edge, gasping echoing out.

Ishimaru plummeted through open air, screaming his head off. His arms flailed before he forced himself into clumsy diving form, before hitting the water hard.

After a moment, he broke the surface like Chabashira before him, coughing up some water. He looked around a moment, his breathing heavy… before smiling. “Ha… ha! I… I did it!” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “It’s safe! Everyone, it’s—”

“ISHIMARU! SWIM!”

“What?” he called back, confused. He looked to see Chabashira staring at him in complete panic…

…She was… she pretty far away… and surrounded by… buoys.

He looked around and froze; he was outside the safe zone. And not too far away, a fin-shaped shadow cut through the water behind him.

“…No… no no no no!” A black dorsal fin broke the surface, circling slowly. “Shaaaaaaark!”

Ishimaru thrashed wildly, arms and legs flying out in front of him as he clawed toward the buoy line. The fin carved closer and closer through the waves.

Up on the cliff, Owada leaned dangerously far over the edge, screaming out as loud as he could, “Dude, move you ass!”

“I am attempting to do exactly that!” Ishimaru shouted back, pure terror in his voice as he paddled harder.

The shark’s shape closed in fast.

With one last desperate stroke, Ishimaru’s hand caught the buoy rope. Behind him, jaws slammed shut, missing his foot by inches. Water exploded behind him as its maw slowly began to tear out of the water toward him

And then a shadow darkened over the beast’s head the moment it began to breach the surface. In the blink of an eye, a human-shaped missile slammed into the shark’s head with a crushing splash, a fist pounding into the exposed skin and sending it back down into the water it came from.

The missile penetrated the water… and then Owari burst from the surface, fist raised, eyes gleaming. “HAH! How’s that taste, fish-for-brains?! Mess with my team, you get decked!”

The shark flailed about in pain, then swiftly gave up and bolted for deeper water, as far as it possibly could from its sudden aggressor.

Owari flipped it off as it fled, cracking her knuckles and turning to look at her teammates.

Both were staring at her.

Ishimaru floated nearby, speechless, his hair was plastered to his face as he stared on in disbelief. Chabashira wasn’t much better, what with how her face was currently bright red with a faint line of drool running from the corner of her mouth.

“…What?” Owari asked.

Chabashira blinked and jolted upright, wiping her mouth and whipping her head away. “Nothing!!!” she snapped, much too loudly.

Owari shrugged and started swimming toward the safe zone, humming to herself.

“Okay, so, real talk,” Owari start, grinning ear to ear, “I totally didn’t see what was going on when I jumped.” She let out a laugh. “But on my way down I saw that shark trying to snack on the screaming dude and did what anyone would do and punched it in the face!” She beamed proudly. “That’s how you handle nature, baby! You show it who’s boss!”

Tanaka huffs, scarf draped over him dramatically. “Preposterous… ludicrous even! The ocean’s denizens do not attack man without cause so easily. For a shark to act with such reckless hunger… something must have disturbed the balance of nature itself!”

He raises a finger toward the ceiling. “A sinister hand pulling the strings of the depths below!” He hums, stroking his chin as his scarf opens slightly to reveal the Four Dark Devas nestled within. They squeak at him, and he nods along. “Yes, I sense it too, Cham-P. The aura of foul play thickens…”

“See you at the bottom!” Momota said, high-fiving Owada as he sprinted toward the cliff’s edge and launched himself into the air.

With the largest grin he could muster, Momota pumped out a fist and tore straight through the water of the safe zone, which immediately elicited another, far smaller wave of cheers from the few Bass left up above.

“Okay, that was actually kinda sick!” Enoshima nodded, clapping at the dive.

Togami stood nearby, arms folded as he let out a scoff. “Baffling, more like.” He rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. “What a waste of my time.”

Hoshi looked up at him. “What’re you implying.”

“That if you’re all so desperate to risk your lives for entertainment, be my guest,” Togami said. “But I have better things to do.”

Owada smirked. “Oh, is that right, Your Highness? What, scared of gettin’ your hair wet?”

Togami glared. “I have nothing to prove to you. While you may intend to humiliate yourselves, I’ll pass.”

Chris stepped forward, grinning as he asked, “So just to confirm, Togami, you’re refusing to jump?”

Togami adjusted his glasses. “That’s correct.”

Chris chuckled, reaching behind him and pulling from seemingly nowhere a bright yellow and horribly ugly elastic chicken hat.

“Well then, Byakuya, my man…” Chris waved the hat with a grin. “Anyone who won’t jump off the cliff gets to wear one of these bad boys for the rest of the day.”

The Bass exploded into laughter.

Enoshima nearly doubled over. “Oh my god, yes! Please put it on, you’d look adorable!”

Togami’s face was bright red at this point, eyes flicking from face to face of his laughing teammates. Regardless of their beratement though, he snatched the hat from Chris’s hand, shoved it onto his head, and stormed off.

Tanaka raised a hand, calling out, “And thus, the proud rooster flees from the test of valor!”

Owada, still laughing, cupped his hands around his mouth. “Bawk, bawk, rich boy! Don’t forget to strut!” As he did so, he stepped up to the ledge himself. “Guess I’ll have to show the chicken how it’s done.” He backed up, took a breath, and launched himself off the edge.

“These imbeciles are absolutely insufferable,” Togami exhaled, the chicken hat still firmly on his head as he glared at the camera, “and for the record, I was hardly afraid of that ridiculous jump. I simply saw no reason to risk injury for the sake of cheap spectacle. I am above such juvenile displays.”

He straightens his posture. “Honestly, the fact that the rest of them find this amusing only proves how utterly beneath me they are.” He glares at the wall, “And if McLean thinks this hat is humiliating, he severely underestimates my resilience!” He scratches underneath it. “Though the elastic is cutting off circulation.”

“At last, the time has come!” Tanaka declared, walking up to the edge of the cliff. “I, Tanaka the Forbidden One, shall descend into the jaws of fate and emerge unscathed! Behold, the power of the Dark Lord—”

“Quit monologuing and jump already!” Owada shouted from below, still dripping wet as he emerged from the water.

Tanaka sneered, but didn’t argue. He turned to the latter half of the Bass, spreading his arms wide. “Very well! Witness true majesty, mortals! The Forbidden Plunge of Gundham Tanaka!”

He hurled himself off the cliff with a burst of laughter. For a second, the fall looked almost graceful… until his scarf snagged on a jagged rock jutting out from the cliff midair. The wind yanked it backward and the fabric snapped around his face, wrapping around his head like a blindfold. He hit the water with a loud, awkward splash not long after, Tanaka resurfacing a moment later with his scarf now twisted into a knot around his face.

Enoshima burst into laughter. “Ten outta ten dive!” The rest of the Bass followed, cracking up as Tanaka flailed around blindly in the water.

The fashionista turned with a grin to Yumeno, who had been standing off to the side the whole time. “Alright, magician girl, you up next or what?”

Yumeno didn’t respond, her gaze remaining fixed on some far-off point, lips slightly parted as she stared dead eyed into nothing.

Enoshima frowned and snapped her fingers. “Hellooo? Earth to Yumeno?”

“Mhm. Yeah,” Yumeno mumbled, not looking down.

Before Enoshima could say more, Hoshi stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he said, voice flat.

Enoshima blinked. “What? Oh… cool. Good luck, champ.”

Hoshi didn’t answer. He walked to the ledge, looked down once, and stepped off.

The camera followed him down, his face entirely unemotive as he dropped like a stone. He hit the water cleanly without much of a splash, then surfaced, not even reacting to the incredibly height he had fallen from.

“Eh, I’ve had worse falls,” Hoshi shrugs, “and besides, if it killed me, then it kills me. Simple as that, really. Would’ve saved a lotta people some trouble honestly.”

Pekoyama stepped forward without a word. She took a short breath, then jumped. Unlike many of those who jumped before her, her form was largely flawless, keeping her arms tight just ahead of her as she cut through the air like butter, before slicing through the water with barely a ripple.

Enoshima let out a low whistle. “Yo, that was clean.” She turned to Kirigiri with a grin. “I think it’s safe to say we got this in the bag, huh?”

“I wouldn’t celebrate too early.” Kirigiri muttered, tilting her head toward Yumeno, who was standing a few feet away, seemingly barely conscious of her surroundings.

Enoshima snorted. “What, just because she’s relaxing means we’re going to lose?”

Kirigiri shrugged and walked toward the edge. “I didn’t say that we’ll lose, at least today. Just wanted to point out that if she’s this checked out during the first challenge, that might say something about what we may need to expect going forward.” She leapt soon after.

Enoshima glanced back at Yumeno. She wasn’t blinking much, practically daydreaming even. Enoshima’s smirk twitched, then faded just a little.

Kirigiri stares down the confessional with folded arms. “It’s not hard to see who’ll inevitably pull their weight, and who’ll fall behind.” She glances off, reciting, “Ishimaru’s too caught up in proving himself to nobody, Owada’s temper may likely get himself or someone else killed sooner or later, and Togami… well, he’s already a lost cause.”

She sighs softly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “But Yumeno is something else. She seems entirely uninterested in even being here. Frankly, if she’s so detached during what may well be the easiest challenge of the Summer, then at least when the time comes, I’ll know who I’d be voting for.”

She shrugs. “Efficiency matters.”

Enoshima stepped up and waved a hand in front of Yumeno’s face, then he snapped her fingers. “Yo, earth to space cadet!”

Yumeno blinked once. Then again. Slowly, she turned her head toward her. “…Oh. You’re still here.”

Enoshima grinned. “Still here? Girl, everyone else jumped already! I’m about to finish this thing off. You in or what?”

Yumeno tilted her head. She stared at nothing again, thinking in silence. “…Mhm,” she said softly.

Enoshima gave a satisfied smirk. “Cool. I’ll be waiting for you down below.”

She turned and ran toward the ledge. Her hair flew back in the wind as she jumped, yelling the whole way down. Cheers followed from below not long after.

The camera panned back up to Yumeno. She hadn’t moved. Slowly, she turned toward Chris. “I’m not jumping.”

Without saying anything, Chris handed a chicken hat over, which Yumeno took and placed it gently on her head. “…I like my other hat better,” she mumbled.

“...That whole challenge was kinda boring,” Yumeno mumbled out, tugging on her new hat in annoyance, “jumping off a cliff just sounded like a waste of energy to me.” She waves a hand lazily, “Sure I could’ve used a spell to make it easier, but… why? Magic shouldn’t be wasted on dumb stuff. Gotta conserve mana for when it really counts.” She lets out a yawn. “Besides, it’s not like the other team’s gonna do any better.”

Yumeno trudged away from the cliff, the chicken hat sagging slightly with each step. Chris pulled a megaphone from seemingly nowhere. “Alright, Bass,” he called out, voice blasting through the air, “that makes ten jumpers… and two chickens!”

The sound echoed down to the beach. Enoshima, still wading through the surf, froze mid-step. “…The hell did he just say?”

Owada snorted, wringing water from his hair. “Guess she chickened out.”

Owari crossed her arms and shook her head. “Lame.”

“Hey, don’t mock her.” Chabashira frowned and shot them both a look. “I get not doing it, that’s a huge fall.”

“Sure, but the rest of us did it,” Hoshi countered, “except Togami, but I doubt any of us thought he would.” Tanaka snickered at the comment, causing Chabashira to turn and glare at the two.

On the sand, Enoshima stormed out of the water. Pekoyama stepped forward and offered a hand, but Enoshima slapped it away without looking. “Don’t. I got it.”

She pushed past the others, her steps heavy as the waves crashed behind her.

“Ugh, unbelievable… Kirigiri literally called what Yumeno would do, and how did I respond? I ignore her and jump first anyway!” Enoshima sighs, throwing up her hands. “Could’ve stayed up there, given her a push, maybe talked her into it, something! But nooo…”

She slumps back, crossing her arms. “Whatever. Ten outta twelve’s still good. Probably enough to win.” She groans, tilting her head back with an exasperated laugh. “Still, this show’s already testing my patience.”

Chris lowered his megaphone, still grinning as he turned toward the Screaming Gophers gathered nearby. “Alright, Gophers, it's your turn to take the plunge! If you can beat the Bass' score, I’ll even throw in a few pull carts to help haul your crates!”

“Pfft, yeah, now he tells us,” Owada grumbles, leaning back in his chair with a scoff, “freakin’ asshole.”

Kuwata pumped a fist. “Nice. Alright, who’s up first?”

The Gophers glanced around at each other. A few laughed, but no one moved. The camera panned slowly across their faces, all waiting for someone else to go first.

Then Kuzuryu let out a loud sigh and turned on his heel, already walking away.

“Yo, where do you think you’re goin’?” Iruma called after him.

“I ain’t doin’ some dumbass stunt just to break my neck,” he replied with a grunt, “You all can jump if you want, but I’ll keep my feet on solid ground, thanks.”

Chris pointed after him, still smiling. “Alright, that’s one chicken already!”

Kuzuryu flipped the host off without looking back.

“Well,” Celeste said, “if he’s excused, then I will also abstain. I see no reason to hurl myself from a cliff merely to amuse our ‘host.’”

Ibuki’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“Oh, c’mon bitch, don’t be a coward!” Iruma spat.

“I prefer the term rational,” Celeste replied. “Though you may call it cowardice if it soothes your egos.”

Gonta stepped forward, hands raised. “Gonta thinks we all need to calm down for a moment. It’s understandable if they’re scared of such a height.”

Hiro scratched the back of his head. “I mean, sure, but two people already out? Not exactly a great start for team unity, bro.”

Kuwata stepped forward and waved his arms. “Look, it’s whatever. Yeah, we can’t beat their score now, but if the rest of us jump, we can at least tie, right? That’s not so bad!”

Gonta beamed. “Gonta will jump first! Gonta’s not afraid!”

“Ibuki will go too!” Ibuki cheered, giving the larger boy a salute. He awkwardly returned it.

Hiro raised a hand nervously. “Uh… yeah, sure, I’m down.”

Sonia clasped her hands, smiling brightly. “As the princess of Novoselic, I cannot allow fear to dictate my actions! I shall leap as well!”

Kuwata grinned. “That’s the spirit! See? We’ve got this!”

But as the energy built, Kuwata’s eyes caught on Soda. He stood near the edge, stiff and pale, staring straight down.

“…Yo, Soda?” Kuwata asked, frowning. “You good, man?”

Soda didn’t look away. “N-No… no, I just…” He suddenly backed up, shaking his head. “I can’t do this! I can’t! What if I hit a rock on the way down?! What if I land wrong and break my leg, or my spine, or my entire body?! What if a shark eats me alive before I even make it to the beach?!”

Iruma burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh, give me a break, you chickenshit! What happened to all that hype, huh? Too scared to face a little gravity now?!”

Soda spun toward her, face red. “Oh yeah?! You’re one to talk! Don’t act like you’re not scared, I bet you don’t wanna do this any more than I do!”

Iruma’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed bright pink. “W–What?! Me?! S-Scared?! Hah!” She let out a shaky laugh, tugging at her collar. “L-Like hell I’m scared! I’m just… s-saving the most aerodynamic jump for last, dumbass!”

Soda crossed his arms, grumbling. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I am!” Iruma shouted, flailing. “You’ll see! I’m gonna jump so hard it’ll knock your teeth out from the air pressure!”

Shinguji, who had been silent until now, adjusted his mask. “How curious,” he said, voice calm. “In moments of peril, humanity’s true nature always reveals itself.”

Iruma snapped toward him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, asshole?!”

He tilted his head. “Only that it is fascinating to watch fear strip away your facades. Such primal panic is a beautifully grotesque thing.”

Soda pointed. “Oh yeah?! Why don’t you jump, you creep? You’re talkin’ big for someone hiding behind a mask!”

Ibuki threw her hands in the air. “Guys, calm down! This was just supposed to be fun!”

Celeste rolled her eyes. “You’re all proving my point that this exercise is beneath civilized individuals.”

Kuwata groaned. “Oh my God, will everyone just shut up for five seconds?!”

Sonia stepped forward. “Please, my friends! Fighting will not make the cliff any shorter!”

Harukawa’s voice cut in, quiet but sharp. “No, but it might make someone fall off sooner.”

Maizono raised her voice, trying to break through the noise. “Everyone, we—”

Chris finally stepped forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hey!” he yelled. The Gophers froze mid-argument, blinking at him in stunned silence. “Alright,” Chris said flatly. “Clearly you guys need this spelled out, so I’m gonna make it real simple. Who here is not gonna jump?”

There was a pause.

Celeste raised her hand first. Soda hesitated, then lifted his with a groan. Iruma, still pouting, slowly followed, her hand rising halfway, which made both the former two give her an annoyed look considering her own comments toward them.

“Well, that settles that,” Chris said. “No reason to keep pretending this is going anywhere.”

He grabbed the megaphone again, his grin snapping back into place. “And that means your winners are: the Killer Bass!”

The camera cut to the beach below, and the Killer Bass exploded into cheers. Back up top, the Gophers groaned in unison.

Still smiling, Chris reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of bright yellow chicken hats, and the Gophers collectively flinched.

Soda groaned as one was placed on his head. “This sucks so bad.”

One by one, the Gophers turned from the cliff and began their slow walk back while Chris jotted something on his clipboard. Near the back of the group, Ibuki glanced over her shoulder, and she started to slow down…

“…Screw it,” she muttered. Without warning, she broke into a sprint.

“Wait, Ibuki?!” Maizono shouted.

Ibuki dashed past the others, arms raised high. Her laughter rang through the air as she screamed out, “Rock and roll, baby!” She launched herself off the edge, disappearing with a cheer and a distant splash.

Chris, still holding his clipboard, blinked once. Then again. He walked to the edge and looked down. He was quiet for a second, then he shrugged and smiled. He scribbled something else on the clipboard as the camera pulled back.

The sun beat down on the sand as the Killer Bass made their way back to camp. Four large wooden pull carts groaned behind them, each carrying their own equally large wooden crate filled with God knows what. They had changed back into dry clothes, though a few still dripped from the ocean.

Ishimaru, Owada, Pekoyama, and Tanaka had taken charge of the hauling, with Chabashira and Hoshi walking beside the latter two. Neither Tanaka nor Pekoyama had much bulk, and the crates were heavy.

Ahead of the group, Momota threw his head back and shouted toward the sky. "Now this is what I’m talking about!” He threw out a hefty laugh, wrapping his arms behind his head and grinning as wide as can be toward the sky. “We seriously rocked that challenge!"

"Excellent team spirit, Momota!" Ishimaru called out, marching as he yanked his cart behind him. "Truly, the Killer Bass shall come to exemplify the essence of unity and dedication! Now, keep at it! One, two! One, two!"

Momota copied his exaggerated march for a few steps. Owari caught on and let out a laugh at the imitation.

Farther back, Enoshima drifted closer to Togami, who trudged stiffly with his arms crossed. "What’s the matter, chicken man?" she said, smirking. "Not feeling the winner’s high?"

"I fail to see how this qualifies as 'winning' when I’ve been publicly humiliated," Togami muttered.

"Aww, poor baby." She leaned into him and flicked one of the floppy elastic legs hanging off the hat. "Don’t worry, big guy, the yellow brings out your eyes."

Togami turned to her with a glare. "I hardly see why you’re so focused on bothering me." His eyes slid ahead. "I wasn’t the only one who didn’t participate."

Enoshima followed his gaze to Yumeno, who was dragging her feet up ahead, completely checked out of her surrounding. She hadn’t touched a cart, nor did she seem likely to.

For a moment, Enoshima's smirk faltered, which Togami caught and gave a smug smile. "I see I struck a nerve," he said. Enoshima scoffed, pushing off him to go mingle elsewhere, just as he wished.

“Out here, surrounded by the lowest of the low, one must keep track of every weakness they can find.” Togami crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. “And for all her bluster, Enoshima’s is obvious; she takes everything personally, seemingly including mine and Yumeno’s lack of participation.”

He hummed out a short laugh. “It’s almost too easy. A few well-placed comments, and she’ll unravel herself without me having to lift a finger.” He smirks toward the camera. “I think I’ll keep that in my back pocket for later.”

Meanwhile, the Screaming Gophers were having a much worse time than the Bass.

They were trudging across the uneven beach, each of them stuck dragging or pushing one of four massive wooden crates through the soft sand. Without any pull carts, the work was slow and brutal, and to make things worse, every single person, with the exception of Ibuki, was wearing a chicken hat as part of their penalty.

Soda grunted as he pushed his crate. “Gah… what the hell is in this thing?!” He yelped suddenly and yanked his hand back, shaking it wildly. “Ow! Splinter!”

Iruma snickered, passing by. “Oh noooo, the big brave mechanic’s got a boo-boo~! Quick, somebody fetch the man a pacifier!”

“Would you just screw off already?!” Soda snapped, glaring at her.

Iruma gasped and clutched her chest dramatically. “What?! You’re not fond of the company of moi? Oh! You wound me, Soda!” She grinned. “Which is more than you’ve done to this crate!”

Soda dropped the crate and got in her face. “You’re lucky I don’t—”

“Don’t what?” Iruma cut in. “Got something to say, dicklip?”

The rest of the team groaned in unison. “Can you two not for five freakin’ minutes?!” Kuwata yelled out, much of the team nodding in agreement. “Or at least try to keep up.”

Sonia suddenly slammed both hands on the nearest crate and stood tall. “Yes, please! This is not the time for lollygagging. We are already behind the other team, and every second spent arguing is one more step toward humiliation!” That got their attention. The others looked her way as she raised an arm and pointed down the beach. “Now, please, push together, friends! We must make up for lost time!”

Grumbling, the two got moving again, pushing the crate as Soda let out a groan. “Man…” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to tick off Miss Sonia.”

Iruma’s ears perked up. She glanced between him and Sonia, then grinned like she’d just solved a puzzle. “Ohhh, I see how it is,” she said, nudging him. “You’ve got a thing for the princess, huh? That’s why you’re actin’ all soft now!”

“W-What?! No!” Soda stammered. “I just… I respect her, alright?!”

Iruma snorted. “Pfft, respect. Sure. That’s what all the pervs say before they start drooling. Pathetic! You really think Sonia’d ever look twice at a greaseball like you?”

Soda gritted his teeth. “I’m not gonna argue with you again. She said to focus, so that’s what I’m doin’.”

Iruma let out a mock gasp. “Aww, look at you! Following orders like a good little lapdog!”

Soda’s eyes twitched, but after a second, he smirked. “Keep talkin’, Iruma. Cause once we’re back at camp, I’m gonna show you why messing with me’s a bad idea when I win us this challenge.”

Iruma’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, is that a promise?”

“Bet on it.”

She leaned in with a snicker. “Challenge accepted, lover boy. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

They glared at each other, then went back to pushing the crate.

“You see that grease monkey back there?” Iruma asked, twirling a pocket tool between her fingers. “Losin’ his mind every time I talk to him? Adorable.” She snickers, kicking her feet up on the wall. “What a freakin’ nerd. Gets all red in the face the second I open my mouth. Like, calm down, bro, I know I’m hot, but control yourself.”

She leans forward, grin widening. “Still… I’ll give him this; he’s got a little spunk. Not a lot, but enough to make it fun. But if he thinks he’s even close to being on my level?” She bursts out laughing. “Ohhh, that’s cute. Let him try, I’ll break him like a prototype before testing day.”

She winks at the camera. “Nobody outsmarts the genius that is Miu Iruma. Nobody.”

Yumeno walked alone near the front of the Bass, several paces ahead of the group. She let out a long yawn and stretched her arms over her head, not bothering to look back.

Behind her, Chabashira walked beside Pekoyama, hauling one of the pull carts through the sand together. The former was staring right at Yumeno. “Poor thing… must’ve been terrifying for her. Standing up there on that cliff, all alone...”

Pekoyama gave a short grunt, her eyes locked ahead.

“You think I should say something?” Chabashira asked, turning to her. “Maybe check on her?”

“Hm,” Pekoyama replied flatly.

Chabashira nodded to herself. “Yeah, you’re right. Someone should.”

She let go of the cart before Pekoyama could answer. The shift in weight hit instantly, Pekoyama tensing up at dragging the full load on her own.

Chabashira jogged ahead, feet kicking up sand as she moved to catch up to Yumeno, who was seemingly off in her own little world.

“Okay, but like… Yumeno is… so cool, right?” Chabashira lets out a quick, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, she’s all quiet and spaced out and… mysterious. It’s kinda… captivating.”

She shakes her head, scowling suddenly. “Not that I care or anything! I just, y’know, noticed! Someone’s gotta make sure she’s okay, that’s all.” She crosses her arms tightly, cheeks a little pink. “That’s what good teammates do; they look out for each other. Especially when they’re adorable.” She pauses, realizes what she said, and glares at the camera. “Cut that last part.”

Ishimaru marched with the team’s second pull cart, sweat running freely down his face. “Keep it up, everyone,” he called. “We’re making remarkable time. Do not let momentum falter now!”

Even so, his movements were slower than before, his breaths coming heavier. Owada pulled up beside him, his own cart rumbling behind. “May wanna slow it down, man,” he said with a snort. “We’re doin’ fine. No need to blow a vein over it.”

“Slow down?!” Ishimaru straightened at once. “Absolutely not! Diligence is the cornerstone of success, Owada! Perhaps that is a lesson you ought to learn!”

Owada bared his teeth. “Oh yeah? Maybe you oughta learn how to relax before I pop those eyes outta that skull, asshole!”

They locked eyes, muscles tensing up as their glares intensified.

“Uh, you two good?” Momota called from the front.

The carts rattled louder as they started pulling ahead with unexpected speed, trying to keep pace with each other with greater and faster intensity. The rest of the Killer Bass scrambled to keep up, half-running now just to stay on track.

Off to the side, Hoshi watched them with a flat expression. He hummed, then glanced to Tanaka, who was using his scarf to fan himself with theatrical flair.

“They’re gonna tire themselves out,” Hoshi said.

Tanaka grinned darkly. “Hmph… such is the nature of beasts asserting dominance over their territory. Two alphas clashing, their spirits aflame!”

“So is that what they call a pissing contest these days?”

Tanaka blinked, then let out a laugh. “Hah! You speak with the venom of a viper, my tiny companion!”

The two shared a chuckle as Ishimaru and Owada barreled ahead, still locked in their wordless race, the rest of their team barking out for them to slow down.

“That delinquent is the bane of my existence!” Ishimaru slams a fist against his knee. “He mocks diligence, disrespects order, and laughs, laughs I say, in the face of discipline!”

He grips the sides of the chair, shaking slightly. “Every word out of his mouth drips with insolence and disregard for the values that uphold a functioning society!” He takes a heavy breath, forcing himself upright again. “But mark my words, I will not let him drag our team into chaos! I will outwork him, outrun him, and outshine him in every conceivable metric!”

He straightens his suit, letting out a huff… before muttering under his breath. “...And the audacity of that pompadour…” He shook his head.

“That guy is unbelievable!” Owada scoffed, leaning back with a roll of his eyes. “Every two seconds it’s ‘unity this,’ ‘discipline that,’ like bro, we’re pullin’ boxes, maybe chill the fuck out” He scoffs, shaking his head. “And the way he talks to me like he’s my freakin’ mom? Yeah, no thanks.”

He smirks, cracking his knuckles. “Still, if he wants to turn it into a contest? Fine. I’ll run circles around him ‘til he drops like all the pansies before him. Game on, dickhead.”

The Screaming Gophers had left the open beach behind, their path cutting into a dense patch of jungle as the soft sand gave way to uneven dirt.

Hiro and Kuzuryu worked together at the back, struggling to move one of the crates. Hiro winced and straightened up with a groan. “Oof, man… my spine’s killing me. Gimme a sec, yeah?”

Kuzuryu didn’t look up. “Fine, but make it quick. We’re already dragging our asses behind the Bass, got it?”

“Relax, relax,” Hiro said, waving a hand as he stepped off the trail. “Just gonna pop a squat real quick and then I’ll be good to go.”

He disappeared into the trees. Kuzuryu muttered something under his breath and kept pushing on his own.

A few steps away, Harukawa and Ibuki were hauling another crate between them. Harukawa’s voice soon spoke up. “You know… maybe if you hadn’t chickened out right away, we wouldn’t be this far behind.”

Kuzuryu’s head snapped toward her. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounded like,” Harukawa said. “A poor example tends to influence those that come next.”

“Oh fuck off! Don’t go acting like I was the only one who didn’t wanna jump off that stupid thing!” he snapped. “We probably woulda lost anyway!”

“Probably hardly means definitely,” she replied coolly. “And even if it did, your excuses would still hardly meet their mark.”

Ibuki raised a fist in the air. “Woo, you tell him, girl!”

Harukawa turned her head slowly toward her. “You’re too loud.”

Ibuki flinched. “Sorry,” she said softly.

Harukawa sits stiffly, arms crossed as she said, “If they can’t handle a little honesty, that’s their problem, not mine.” She tilts her head slightly. “I’m not here to coddle egos, I’m here to win.” She shrugged. “If that hurts their feelings, maybe they shouldn’t have come on TV.”

Celeste lagged behind the rest of the group, pushing her crate through the dirt. It slid forward about an inch before a shadow fell over her. She blinked, then watched as the entire crate was lifted clean off the ground.

Hoisting it onto his shoulders, Gonta looked down to see Celeste now staring up at him. “Oh! Hello, Miss Celeste. Gonta didn’t see you there!” he said cheerfully, nodding to the crate. “Was this yours?”

Celeste blinked again, then morphed her expression into a smile. “Well, it was, but as you can no doubt see, it’s been giving me a bit of trouble.”

“Oh! If you need, Gonta is happy to take it from here.”

“How very kind of you, Mister Gokuhara,” Celeste said, her voice sweet.

“It’s no problem at all!” Gonta beamed. “Gonta is quite strong, so Gonta should use it to help the team!” He shifted the crate easily in one arm; it barely seemed to weigh anything to him.

Celeste’s eyes flicked from the crate to his broad shoulders. Then she gave a small, theatrical sigh and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “My, I fear I have overexerted myself,” she said gently. “It’s simply too much for a delicate lady such as I…”

Gonta’s expression turned instantly concerned. “Oh no, is Miss Celeste tired? That’s not good! Umm… here!”

Without hesitation, he crouched slightly and swept her off her feet with his free arm. Celeste settled gracefully into his hold. “Why, you are quite the gentleman, Gonta.”

“Thank you for the kind words!” he said, beaming. “But Gonta just wanted to ensure you’re comfortable!”

He started walking forward again, carrying both her and the crate like it was nothing. Celeste rested her chin on her knuckles, watching him with quiet interest. “How… unexpectedly convenient,” she murmured to herself.

“In a game such as this, one must always keep the future in mind.” Celeste traces a gloved finger along the armrest thoughtfully. “Whether it be tonight, tomorrow, or some distant day to come, there will inevitably be a time where I’ll have a say in who goes home.”

She allows a smile, eyes glinting deviously. “And when that day arrives, it is far better to hold the favor of another than to stand alone. And Mister Gokuhara, bless his gallant heart, may prove to be a most useful ally indeed.” She lets out a soft laugh. “A gentleman with muscles and no guile; what more could a lady ask for?”

The Killer Bass had regrouped near a small bend in the trail. Two of the pull carts lay on their sides in the sand; one with a busted wheel, the other jammed into a rock, with Owada and Ishimaru standing over the wreckage.

“Okay, maybe we kinda went a little far…” Owada muttered.

“A little?!” Ishimaru snapped. “You were the one who refused to yield the inside lane!”

“You freakin’ started it, asshole!” Owada shot back, pointing a finger at him.

“Incorrect! I simply set a proper pace for a team striving for excellence!”

“Yeah, straight into a freakin’ boulder!”

They were about to go at it again when Kirigiri stepped forward. “That’s enough. We can debate fault after the challenge.” She stared them down, though neither dared hold her gaze for long. “Good,” she said. “Now fix the damage.”

Owada dropped to one knee beside the broken cart, grumbling as he started to unjam it, while Ishimaru moved to brace the frame in place. But as they did so, just ahead on the trail, Yumeno came to a stop. She raised a hand lazily, pointing forward. “…The resort’s right there,” she said with a yawn.

Everyone looked up. Sure enough, the resort was visible just ahead, barely a few hundred feet away.

“Dang,” Owari grinned. “That went by like no time at all!”

“Probably helps that the speed demons made for solid entertainment,” Enoshima said with a smirk. Owada and Ishimaru turned to glare at her in perfect sync.

Kirigiri sighed. “Forget the repairs. You two can drag those last crates the rest of the way. Everyone else, get to camp with the supplies so we can get started.”

Owada and Ishimaru exchanged a look, before scowling as they grabbed their respective crates and started hauling them through the sand, while the rest of the team pulled ahead, heading for resort.

The Screaming Gophers were slowing down. Every face showed it, exhaustion etching into their expressions and their breathing growing heavy.

Harukawa gave her crate one last shove, before stepping back. “I’m done,” she said flatly. “Someone else take over.”

Sonia stepped forward at once, rolling up her sleeves. “Allow me, then!”

Harukawa nodded briefly and moved aside, arms crossing as she walked ahead. Sonia took position beside Maizono, who was already bracing herself at the front of the crate. They began to push together, but Sonia’s eyes flicked over and noticed something was off.

“Miss Maizono… are you alright?” she asked gently. “You seem rather fatigued.”

“Huh?” Maizono looked up, before quickly shaking her head. “Oh! N-No, no, I’m fine!” She flashed a smile. But Sonia didn’t look convinced, holding her gaze until Maizono reluctantly admitted, “…Okay, maybe I’m a little tired.”

Sonia stopped pushingp. “Then we rest. Everyone, take five!”

The response was instant, and the team almost collapsed where they stood.

Sonia and Maizono sat on the edge of the crate, both catching their breath. “Now then,” Sonia said, turning to her, “what’s troubling you?”

Maizono let out a soft laugh. “It’s nothing serious, I promise. I’m just… not used to this kind of work. Touring, dancing, performing? Sure. But this?” She gave a tired smile. “It’s a little… different.”

“Quite understandable,” Sonia said warmly. “Though I assure you, such things come easier with time.”

Maizono nodded, before giving her an equally curious look. “Still, I’m surprised you’re not tired. You’d think a princess would be the first one complaining about this.”

Sonia chuckled, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “I’ll admit, my legs do feel rather sore. But as a representative of Novoselic, I must show my people’s strength. If I cannot handle a bit of hard labor, how could I ask them to?”

Maizono’s expression softened. “That’s… actually really admirable. Makes me wonder if I’m doing enough to represent my band like that.”

“You are,” Sonia said gently. “And you will continue to, I am certain.”

They shared a smile… then a loud wail cut through. “Maizono, aaaaaaaugh!” Before either could react, Ibuki launched herself onto Maizono’s back. “I’m gonna diiiiiiieeee!” she moaned.

“I-Ibuki! Stop!” Maizono laughed, trying to shake her off.

Ibuki groaned and flopped forward over both of them. “I’m sooooo tiiiiiiired…” She grappled onto their clothes, prying herself up and whispering, “It’s gonna kiiiiiiiiilll meeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried, dragging out her final words with exaggerated death noises.

Sonia and Maizono burst into laughter, trying to wriggle free as Ibuki draped herself over them like a blanket.

“Miss Mioda! You are crushing me!” Sonia gasped.

“We get it, you’re dying!” Maizono laughed. “Let go before we do too!”

“I was kinda worried I’d feel out of place here at first,” Maizono admitted “but so far, it’s actually been… really nice! Everyone’s different, but that’s what makes it fun. Sure, that thing with Kuwata earlier was a little awkward, but I knew people were gonna ask about my career sooner or later. And Sonia and Ibuki are great!”

Her expression softens. “I don’t know, it’s just nice having people around who can make me laugh and relax a little. Definitely makes me feel a little less weird about signing up for this.”

Kuwata leaned against a crate, watching from a distance as Sonia, Maizono, and Ibuki laughed together. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, elbowing Soda.

“Yo, dude,” Kuwata said, grinning. “Hotties, three o’clock.” Soda lifted his head, eyes drifting over to the group. But the moment his gaze landed on Sonia, his face turned bright red. He jerked his head away and Kuwata snorted. “Ohhh man, you’ve got it bad, huh?”

“W-What’re you talkin’ about?!” Soda barked, defensive. “I’m just lookin’ like you said!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Kuwata said, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m lookin’ too, but I ain’t turnin’ into a damn tomato over it.” Soda grumbled and crossed his arms. Kuwata laughed and gave him a pat on the arm. “Hey, chill, bro, it’s all good. Hey, you’re bored outta your mind too, right? How ‘bout a little ‘Sex, Marry, Kill’?”

Soda stared at him with a deadpan look. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?”

“What?” Kuwata shrugged. “Just killin’ time. C’mon, those three. Go.”

Soda rolled his eyes and looked away again, muttering something under his breath. His eyes flicked toward Iruma, lounging on one of the crates and scraping at the wood like she was trying to pry it open.

“What the hell’s she—” he started, brow furrowing.

Kuwata cut him off loudly. “Easy choices, by the way! Bang Ibuki, marry Maizono…” He leaned in with a smirk. “Annnnnnd kill Sonia.”

Soda sprang to his feet, completely forgetting his suspicions. “What?! That’s insane!”

Kuwata doubled over laughing. “Dude, chill!”

“She’s a freakin’ angel, man! How is she the worst choice there?!”

“Ohhh man, dude, you’re hopeless!” Kuwata wheezed. “Look at you go! I didn’t even mean it seriously!”

Their voices were loud enough to catch the girls’ attention.

Sonia tilted her head. “Oh dear, what are they shouting about now?”

Maizono sighed. “Honestly, I doubt it’s anything I want to know.”

“Probably something dumb!” Ibuki grinned, leaning forward with a glint in her eye. “Still, kinda cute when boys bicker like that, huh?” Maizono gave her a look. Ibuki blinked. “…What?”

“Look, I ain’t sayin’ I don’t see the appeal,” Kuwata started, grinning at the camera with his arms crossed behind his head, “Sonia’s hot, sure. But damn, man, Soda’s got it bad.” He snickers, leaning forward. “It’s been, what, a day? And dude’s already actin’ like he’s found his soulmate or somethin’.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “It’s kinda pathetic, but also hilarious. Long as he keeps blushin’ every time she breathes, I’ve got enough material to keep me busy for weeks.” He leans back. “Poor guy.”

The Killer Bass had finally reached the resort, where four massive crates sat lined up in front of the hotel, each still sealed tight. And the team had begun opening them in the least efficient way possible…

Momota was crouched beside one, gnawing hopelessly at the wooden edge like a determined beaver. As if to explain such a bizarre sight, Chris strolled into view, grinning as he passed the scene. “Just a reminder,” he said brightly, “yes, you really do have to open those with your teeth!” He turned to the camera, smug. “That little rule? My idea. You’re welcome.” He winked and walked off laughing.

Enoshima scraped her own teeth against a crate, glaring at the host as he left before spitting out a splinter. “This is ridiculous.”

“Wait, look at that!” Owari pointed.

All eyes turned to see Togami standing with his legs braced hard against the ground, rope clamped between his teeth as sweat dripped down his face. His jaw clenched and muscles bulged as he yanked backward with all his might, the crate trembling with each pull.

“No way,” Momota muttered, staring.

Then, with one last guttural heave, Togami ripped the rope back, and the crate burst apart. Wooden panels flew in all directions, revealing a motor inside, along with various pipes.

The rest of the team erupted in cheers. “WOO! Hell yeah, Chicken Man! You did it!” Owari shouted, pumping her fist.

Togami dropped the rope, panting. “Hmph.” He touched his tongue and winced. “Rope burn…”

Before he could recover, Momota smacked him on the shoulder. “Dude, that was awesome! Way to go, big guy!”

Togami looked confused at the compliment at first… before he quickly straightened himself out with a smirk. “Naturally.” He puffed out his chest with pride, his large form shaking a moment. “For someone of my frame, it was a trivial effort. Perhaps this a sign to put on some weight to the rest of you.

Around him, the others exchanged amused looks and rolled their eyes, but the relief was obvious.

Hoshi crouched beside the busted crate, inspecting the contents. “Not much in here,” he said. “Just a motor and some piping. We’ll need the rest if we wanna actually set up.”

One by one, everyone turned to stare at Togami.

He blinked, then looked around at the expectant faces as realization settled in. “…You cannot be serious,” he groaned.

Owari tossed him another rope. “Oh, we’re serious,” she said, grinning. “Get to it, champ!”

Togami glared at her, but grabbed the rope anyway.

Togami was rubbing his tongue, grimacing as he pulled back a clenched fist. “I open one crate and suddenly I’m the team’s pack mule. Unbelievable.” He rolled his eyes. “Hopefully that’s enough to keep these fools off my back for a while.”

“Okay, not gonna lie, after that whole cliff thing, I didn’t expect much outta rich boy.” Enoshima explained, half-smiling, “But damn, he actually came through.” She gestures vaguely with her hand. “Dude tore open that crate like a pissed-off bulldog in designer shoes.”

She shrugs, smirk fading as she added, “He’s still an ass, but whatever, he might be useful. I’ll take it.” She rolls her eyes. “Now if we could just get Yumeno to do literally anything.”

Togami was already working on the next crate, the team cheering as he strained himself with each step forward, the rope tightening around his maw. All the while, apathetic to the scene, Yumeno stood a bit away, using a stick to etch something into the dirt.

Chabashira was staring at the girl, clearly worried. Pekoyama gave her a look... and with a sigh, waved her hand to leave, which Chabashira took without hesitation. She walked right up to the little mage, asking, "So... what'cha drawing?"

Yumeno rolled her eyes. "They're not drawings..." She pulled back the stick, muttering, "They're incantations..."

"Incan-what now?" Chabashira muttered.

"They're not too dissimilar to spells..." Yumeno explained, her attention drifting, "if set up properly, than with proper activation in the mere blink of an eye..." she opened up her arms as if about to bellow something... only to speak in the same dull monotone she always did, "all will be revealed..." She then lazily returned to sketching.

Chabashira gave the girl a look, then looked down at the 'incantations'... only to see they were fairly surface level, low quality sketches of seemingly random nonsense. If there was any meaning to be found in them, it certainly wasn't gonna be found by her.

"...Cool!" She chirped, sitting down beside Yumeno. "Can you teach me how to make them?"

Yumeno scoffed. "Why? You wouldn't be able to use them..."

"Yeah, but... you can!" Chabashira smiled. "Maybe I could help you put a few around, so that when you need one, there's twice as many to use!"

Yumeno gave her a look... then hummed. "I suppose." She nodded, leaning forward. "Okay, so, the one I'm making helps me with pulling rabbits out of a hat..."

"Hmph! For the record, what that girl is describing is an inscription!” Tanaka huffed, tilting his nose up in disdain. "An incantation is purely vocal in nature, a verbal invocation of power channeled through your very spirit!" He crossed his arms with a sneer. "Any half-trained sorcerer would know as much! To mistake an inscription for an incantation is the mark of an amateur stumbling with no understanding of the art she claims to wield!"

He huffed... then quickly added, "And just to be clear, I was hardly eavesdropping on such lowly mortals. If you ask me, they should learn to keep their voices down."

Sonia stretched out, brushing dust from her dress before calling out, “Alright, everyone, that will do for a break. Let us resume!”

Groans rippled through the team, and reluctantly, everyone began to rise.

Soda trudged toward his crate with a sigh, only to stop dead in his tracks. “…Wait.” He crouched down… only to see the entire left wall of his crate was gone. Just… gone.

“Where the hell?!”

“Ahem.”

Soda looked up to see Iruma peeking out from behind the crate. And it was only now that he noticed as well that attached to the bottom of it was a makeshift wooden frame with four freshly carved wheels. She was sanding down the final edge with a pocket tool, grinning from ear to ear.

“Feast your eyes, losers!” she shouted, puffing out her chest. “Behold: functional crate mobility, baby!” She let out a proud squawk of laughter.

Someone who wasn’t laughing was Soda, who stomped up to her in frustration. “What the Hell, what’d you do to it?!”

“I innovated is what I did!” She bragged. “Who even needs some dumb pull cart when you can make your own!” She grabbed the edge of the crate and gave it a firm push, rolling across the dirt with ease.

“Holy crap, it works!” Ibuki shouted, eyes sparkling.

“That’s incredible, Miss Iruma!” Maizono said, full of awe.

Soda scowled. “Yeah… incredible…”

Kuzuryu gave a low whistle. “Alright, gotta hand it to ya, that’s pretty solid. If you just do that for the rest—”

“HA!” Iruma cut him off. “Yeah, no. This took all break to get done, I ain’t wasting more time on you chumps! You freeloaders can handle your own crates.” She slapped the side of her wheeled crate and climbed onto the back. “I’ll see you chumps back at the resooooort!”

She leaned down, ready to kick off, but Soda lunged forward and grabbed the crate’s edge. “Oh, no you don’t!” he snapped. “You’re not just bailing on the team!”

But by the time he said that, she kicked off and the crate lurched forward, Soda’s grip holding tight. The wheels hit a slight decline, and just like that, it was flying forward.

The two of them rocketed down the trail, Iruma laughing like a maniac with Soda clinging to the crate’s frame, dragging behind like a broken sled dog while he screamed his head off. The crate vanished around a bend, cackling inventor and unwilling passenger in tow.

The group stood frozen.

“…Cool,” Kuwata said flatly. “Totally cool.”

Sonia let out a long breath. “Well. Back to the original plan then, everyone.”

The group let out another wave of groans.

Togami croaked out a hazy breath as he downed the last bits of a water bottle, his shirt clinging to him with sweat. Mere feet away, the last of the crates was finally open, Owari leaning so deep into it only her legs were visible.

“Found somethin’!” she shouted. She popped up with a massive plank held above her head. “Looks like a whole bunch of wood!”

“And I got tools,” Momota added from a separate crate. “Hammers, nails, a pool liner…”

Kirigiri, standing nearby, nodded. “Which means we have everything we need to start building.”

“Damn right we do,” Momota kicked the crate away, throwing up a hand and calling out, “Alright, team! We’ve got the goods, we’ve got the muscle, and we’ve got the drive! Let’s build that hot tub and win this thing!”

“Let’s show those Gophers who’s boss!” Owari cheered, pumping her fist.

The team cheered out at such words, most back on their feet in an instant to begin assembling the equipment.

“Somebody’s gotta take charge, right? Might as well be me!” Momota looks toward the camera, eyes gleaming with determination. “That’s what being a leader’s all about; getting everyone fired up and workin’ together! If the Bass are gonna take home this challenge, we’re doin’ it under my lead!”

He slams a fist into his open palm. “Now let’s make this the best damn hot tub this island’s ever seen!”

Owada groaned as he stretched, a series of loud cracks popping from his back. “Jesus, my spine…” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. As he loosened up, he noticed Ishimaru walking up to him. “The hell do you want?”

Ishimaru stopped a few feet away and gave a nod. “Owada! I have been reflecting upon today’s events, and I believe we may not have started off on the best footing!”

Owada snorted. “No fuckin’ kidding.”

Ishimaru ignored his cursing and continued, “Regardless! We are teammates, and as such, it is vital for morale and productivity that we work in unison! I would like to extend my hand in truce; let us consider today’s disputes behind us and begin anew!”

He thrust out his hand. Owada stared at it for a while, till eventually, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “…Yeah, no.”

Ishimaru blinked. “What?”

“Look, man,” Owada said, pointing at him. “I don’t give a damn about your ‘fresh start.’ Truth is, to me, you seem like an uptight prick with a stick up his ass about every little thing, and I ain’t dealin’ with that more than I have to.” Ishimaru stiffened in shock, watching as Owada turned and started to walk away. “So if you wanna keep things clean, do us both a favor and stay outta my way.”

Ishimaru, now red in the face, stomped after him. “Owada! You come back here right now!”

“The nerve of that stubborn, inconsiderate...” Ishimaru exhales through his nose. “I extended my hand in good faith, a chance for unity! And how does he respond? With insolence!”

He slams his palm against his knee, glaring straight into the camera. “Very well! If he refuses to respect the standards and expectations of this team, then that is his own undoing! I have no doubt it will only be a matter of time before our peers see him for what he truly is; a disruptive force that’ll doubtless drag us down!”

He folds his arms. “And when that time comes, I’ll be ready to pick up the pieces.”

“Alright, if we set the foundation here and angle the frame toward the forest,” Momota muttered, drifting a hand along the ground before aiming his arm toward the edge of the resort ground, “we should get a perfect view of the sunset from the hot tub.”

Kirigiri stood nearby, sorting the tools for the build. “The slope will help with drainage too.”

From inside a crate, Tanaka’s head popped up, eyes gleaming. “The fiery orb of day shall bear witness to our craftsmanship!”

Enoshima paused mid-hammer swing and looked over. “Translation: it’s gonna look awesome.”

Before anyone could reply, a long dragging sound echoed from down the beach, followed by tired, uneven groaning. The Bass all turned at the sound.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Owari said with a grin.

The Screaming Gophers emerged from the treeline, starting with Gonta, who trudged forward with one crate balanced under an arm and Celeste still laying atop the other. The rest followed behind him in a slow, disheveled line.

Momota laughed. “You guys took your sweet time, huh?”

“Long walk?” Owari asked

“You have no idea,” Kuwata muttered. The Killer Bass shared a few laughs at such a response as the Gophers drew closer.

Kirigiri narrowed her eyes slightly. “You seem to be two people short.”

“And a crate short.” Chabashira added. “The heck happened?”

Sonia looked confused for a moment, before her eyes widened. “Oh no!”

Iruma’s crate rolled to a slow, squeaking halt along the edge of a dirt path. She sat up, goggles lopsided on her forehead, as she stared out as the trees in frustration.

“Where the hell is the resort?” She spat, “I knew my sense of direction wasn’t great, but its this shit?!”

“...aagghhHHhga…”

Irume stood up at the… bizarre sound. “The heck was that?” It was kinda muffled and like… barely coherent? She poked at her ear and listened again.

The sound erupted again, followed by a gargled, hacking cough.

Iruma blinked and looked behind the crate, finding Soda laying in the dirt, half-buried in a fresh trench of twigs and leaves, a chunk of gravel stuck in his mouth.

“…What the hell?!” she yelped, recoiling. “Soda?! What?! Why are you here, dumbass?!”

He spat out the dirt, gagged, and slowly raised a shaking finger at her. “I was holding onto the frame when you took off, you lunatic!”

“Why didn’t you let go?!” she shrieked in frustration.

“I tried!" he snapped. “Ever heard of momentum?! And besides, after a certain point it was either cling on for dear life or get stranded in the woods!” He staggered to his feet. “Seriously, what the Hell is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?!” Iruma shouted, hopping off the crate. “You’re the idiot who grabbed on!”

“You were leaving the team behind!”

“You hitchhiked without permission!”

“The Hell does that have to do with anything?!”

“It’s illegal, is what it is! I’m suing you when we’re outta here!”

“Oh my God, you’re impossible!”

Iruma opened her mouth to argue some more, but then a low growl rumbled through the trees, and they both froze.

“…Please tell me that was your stomach,” Soda whispered.

They both turned slowly. A massive bear stood just down the trail, eyes locked on them, steam puffing from its nose as it slowly growled out… Smart people would react to this by, realistically, staying quiet, and not making too much of a commotion.

“OH MY GOD!”

“MOVE YOUR ASS!”

Iruma vaulted onto the crate in an instant. Soda scrambled up after her just as Iruma slammed a foot against the ground, and the crate lurched forward and took off. The bear bellowed in response and charged after them.

“It’s behind us!” Soda yelled, clutching the frame.

“No shit it’s behind us!” Iruma howled.

The bear roared again, having gotten closer in that time. Much closer.

Branches whipped their faces as they tore through the jungle, wheels screeching and the crate rattling like it might fall apart.

“We’re gonna die!” Soda whined.

“Shut up and shift your weight!” Iruma yelled, trying to steer around trees.

The crate vanished around a bend, wild screams trailing behind as the jungle swallowed them whole.

"Stupid freakin' Soda! This is all his fault!" Iruma pointed off furiously. "If he hadn't grabbed onto my crate like some desperate little barnacle, this never woulda happened to me!" She threw up at her hands. “And then he’s yellin’ at me like I’m the crazy one? Newsflash, grease-for-brains, don't hitch a ride if you can't keep up!" She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Ugh! He’s lucky I’m a genius or we’d both be bear chow right now.”

"This is all Iruma's fault!" Soda spat, face covered in dirt as he spat up some grass. "She's out here joyriding like a maniac, while the rest of the team is probably doing real work..." He blinks. "...Oh crap, that means I'm also joyriding like an idiot!" He grabs onto his beanie. "We gotta get back to the challenge and quick! This was supposed to be my chance to prove myself, and if we blow it all because of her, I'm gonna... gonna... AGH!"

The Gophers exchanged quick, uneasy glances.

“They um… went to the bathroom!” Sonia blurted out.

“They did?” Hiro asked, before getting elbowed in the gut by Harukawa.

The Killer Bass paused. “...Together?” Hoshi questioned. The Gophers exchanged a few looks… and after a moment, almost in perfect sync, the Killer Bass all shrugged.

“Fair enough,” Owari said, already turning back to her crate. Within moments they were all back to work.

Within seconds, the sound of hammering resumed. Planks thudded, nails clinked, and whatever fleeting concern there had been for Iruma vanished into the background noise of teamwork and exhaustion.

Off to the side, Kuzuryu leaned against his crate as he finall pushed it out of the woods. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his back with a satisfied grunt. “Finally…” he muttered under his breath.

He exhaled, stretching his neck, and that’s when he saw her. Across the camp, Pekoyama stood near one of the Bass crates, hands clasped neatly behind her back.

She was looking at him.

Kuzuryu’s eyes widened, then, with an awkward jerk, he turned away. Pekoyama flinched, and she finally turned away. She cleared her throat and refocused on the work in front of her.

“I… am having some difficulty,” Pekoyama admitted, pausing to herself to choose her next words very carefully, “...My… Young Master… requested that I serve myself above all else during the length of the game. But that goes against everything I was trained to do.” She glances up. “I must respect his wishes, but… I am not certain how long I can stand idly by. No matter the circumstances, my instinct will always be to protect him.” She lowers her gaze again, whispering to herself. “…Even if he no longer wants me to.”

The Screaming Gophers stood in a loose circle around their crates, dropped unceremoniously near the cottages.

“Okay, seriously, how’re they not back yet?” Kuwata scratched at the back of his head. “They were in front of us, right?”

“I am certain they were!” Sonia said, visibly anxious. “They must have gone off the path somehow!”

“Maybe they got distracted making out,” Hiro muttered with a snicker… only to notice everyone giving him a look. “...What? Oh come on, I can’t be the only one who thought the fighting was flirting!”

Ignoring Hiro, Maizono asked, “Do you think maybe someone should go find them?”

“No,” Harukawa cut in firmly. “The last thing we need is someone else getting lost out there.”

“She’s right,” Kuzuryu added, arms crossed. “We don’t even know which way they went. For all we know, they’re halfway to the other side of the island by now.”

“Besides,” Celeste said as she adjusted her gloves, “if Iruma had the sense to build that contraption, she can find her own way back. Same goes for Soda.”

Shinguji raised an eyebrow. “Rather optimistic thinking, is it not?”

“Perhaps,” Sonia replied, frowning. “But Celeste is correct. We must not lose more time worryin, we are already running out of daylight.”

She motioned toward the horizon, where the sun had dipped even lower, casting deep orange streaks across the sky.

Momota crouched at one end of the tub’s frame, bracing it with both hands as Owari swung down a hammer onto a set of nails. “Careful!” he warned, wincing.

“Relax, dude,” Owari said, grinning as she swung the hammer again. “I ain’t gonna hit your little fingers.” She snickered at his scowl.

A few feet away, Owada knelt with a measuring stick, carefully aligning boards, before he then drove a nail in. Kirigiri, passing by with a handful of screws, paused. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

Owada looked up, blinking. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Kinda.” He shrugged. “My ma used to do some woodworking, and I helped out a bit growing up. Nothin’ fancy.”

Enoshima raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Awww, big guy’s a momma’s boy..”

Owada grumbled, turning back to his work. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” He gave the plank a final thump.

“I don’t like people knowin’ crap about me, alright?” Owada stares at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t need them makin’ assumptions ‘bout me. Yeah, I picked up some stuff from my ma, big deal. Doesn’t mean I wanna turn it into something…”

Gonta cracked open the final crate with a loud thud, kicking it over and spilling its contents onto the ground. “All crates open!” he declared proudly, brushing dust from his hands and flashing a thumbs-up.

“Excellent work, Mister Gokuhara!” Sonia called, her voice bright.

The group gathered around the scattered supplies, staring down at them in silence. “…So,” Ibuki finally muttered. “Uh. Anyone know where to start?”

A long pause. Turns out the answer was a fairly vague, “nope”.

Sonia clapped her hands once, smiling with sudden determination. “Then we shall figure it out together. Miss Celestia, you and I will study the blueprints. Miss Maizono, Miss Mioda, start grouping the lumber by size. The rest of you, gather the tools and set up a clear working space. Let us begin!”

“It seems I have… rather unintentionally assumed a leadership position.” Sonia smiles politely, though there’s a hint of surprise in her tone. “In Novoselic, I am accustomed to guiding others, but this is different. These people are not my citizens, they are my teammates. It would be improper to command them… yet, if my experience can help us succeed, then I cannot simply stand idle.”

Momota and Owari hammered in side planks while Kirigiri and Pekoyama aligned the edges. Off to the side, Owada paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, glancing toward the opposite end of the beach. “…Yo,” he said, squinting. “Is that seriously all they’ve got so far?”

The others looked over. Across the sand, the Screaming Gophers stood in loose clusters, seemingly running around like mad while having made very little process.

Enoshima scoffed. “Hah. Adorable.”

“Don’t get caught up on what they’re doing now,” Momota grinned. “No slowing down now. Let’s keep the pressure on!”

The first few boards of the hot tub frame finally locked into place with a dull thud. It wasn’t perfect, some angles were off and the fit was rough, but it was at least standing!

“Keep it steady!” Sonia called out, blueprint in hand. “We must move faster, there is little time left, my friends!”

Shinguji adjusted a corner joint with a frown. “'Faster' will cost us what little structure we have.”

Sonia didn’t flinch. “Then we’ll multitask. Ibuki, Hiro, and Kuwata, start fetching water!” The three bolted toward the shoreline without hesitation. Behind them, the rest of the team scrambled to get the tub ready.

The Killer Bass stood around their finished hot tub, watching as the last few buckets of water rippled under the soft orange glow of a dimming sunset.

Then Momota let out a breathless laugh, hands on his hips. “Now that’s a hot tub.”

The Screaming Gophers stepped back from their tub, breathing hard as they reluctantly inspected their work.

Ibuki squinted. “That’s… kind of a hot tub?”

Kuwata shrugged. “Close enough.”

The sky had turned a deep purple. Torches lit the beach with flickering orange light as both teams stood beside their finished hot tubs, the Bass to the right and the Gophers to the left.

Chris strolled between them, clipboard in hand. "Alright, campers!" he called out. "Both teams got their hot tubs built before sundown, and miracle of miracles, neither of them are on fire!"

He turned toward the Killer Bass first. Their tub stood firm, water steaming gently inside. A few rough edges, sure, but it looked solid. Chris walked a slow circle around it, nodding. “Sturdy. Smart layout,” he dipped a finger into the water, then raised an eyebrow, “actually warm. Huh.”

The Killer Bass didn’t move, watching him like he might suddenly change his mind. Chris scribbled something on his clipboard, then looked up with a grin. “Nice work, Killer Bass. That tub’s the real deal.”

He turned toward the other team, already walking. “But let's see if the Gophers can bring the heat."

Chris strolled toward the Screaming Gophers’ hot tub, ready to inspect. It wasn’t pretty, with uneven boards and gaps in the seams, the water a little murky. But… y’know… it was standing.

The Gophers looked on anxiously, exchanging looks of worry.

Chris crouched down, reaching toward the frame…

When a thunderous crash exploded from the treeline. Heads snapped around just in time to see a blur of wood rocket out of the brush in the form of a half-destroyed crate, barreling toward them on one barely-functioning wheel.

“What the?!” Kuwata shouted.

“Hit the deck!” Kuzuryu screamed as well.

The Gophers dived out of the way just as the crate slammed into a buried rock, destroying its side and launching its cargo through the air. Which in this case, came in the form of Iruma getting flun like a ragdoll with Soda not far behind her.

They crashed straight through the hot tub, the entire frame exploding upon impact. The entire structure collapsed in a groaning heap of soaked debris, water flooding out in a single large bout.

The only one who hadn’t gotten out of the way was Chris, who was now standing there dripping wet. “…Okay,” he muttered, slicking his hair back with one hand. “So much for that.”.

Iruma groaned across the ground, body covered in mud and sticks caught in her hair, one goggle lens shattered. “My bones…”

Soda similarly groaned, rolling over onto his side. “I think I can taste my liver…”

The camera panned across the Screaming Gophers; shellshocked, soaked, and standing over the wreckage of what was, moments ago, barely a hot tub.

Chris held up his clipboard. "Well... I think we have a winner here." He pointed to the right. "The Killer Bass!"

The Bass exploded in cheers, while the Gophers, meanwhile, groaned.

Chris turned back to the Bass. "Congratulations, Killer Bass! Not only are you safe from elimination tonight, but you get to rock your hot tub for the rest of the summer!" The cheering got louder.

Chris turned back to the Gophers. They stood in front of what remained of their project, nothing more than a puddle and a pile of broken wood.

"Not much to say here, Gophers," he said with a grin. "Sucks to be you guys." He tapped his clipboard against his shoulder and spun on his heel. "I'll see your sorry butts at McLean Rock in an hour! Don’t be late!" He laughed as he walked off into the torchlight.

“Hell yeah, we won!” Owari laughed, leaning forward with a grin. “Sure, the challenge was kinda boring, but hey, a win’s a win!” She tilts her head, smirk turning a little thoughtful. “Still… it was a little too easy, y’know? Makes me wonder if this whole thing’s just gonna be one long, boring slog.” She shrugs, grin returning. “Then again, if that means cruisin’ all the way to the finale, fine by me. Sure, getting tested would be fun and all, but at the end of the day, I’m here for that money.”

“Seriously?! We lost?!” Iruma throws her hands up, screeching. “I was gone, what, an hour, tops! And suddenly everything’s in shambles?!” She points furiously, “If that grease-stained dumbass hadn’t been hangin’ off my ride like a parasite, I’d’ve been back way sooner and we would have totally won!” She growls, slamming her hands on the desk. “Unbelievable! Next time, I’m leavin’ him for the bears!”

“Maaaan… I totally blew it.” Soda drags a hand down his face, groaning. “I was just tryin’ to stop Iruma from ditchin’ the team, y’know? Make sure she didn’t screw things up. And what happens? I go with her and end up screwin’ things up worse!” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I’d just stayed back and helped, maybe we actually coulda beaten the Bass…” He slumps further in the seat, muttering. “Unbelievable… coulda proven myself, but all I did was screw things up…”

“Oh… we won?” Yumeno pauses, blinking a few times. “Guess that’s good. I kinda zoned out for a while there.”

The Screaming Gophers stood in a loose half-circle, facing the towering shape of McLean Rock. Four giant stone faces of Chris stared back at them, their carved grinsglowing in the torchlight.

Hiro leaned closer to the group and whispered, “So, uh… what do we do here?”

Then the ground began to rumble.

Sonia gasped. “W-What was that?”

The rumble grew louder. Suddenly, one of the Chris mouths creaked open with a groan of metal, and a large mechanical escalator shot out, slamming into the sand. The steps lit up in a faint glow and started to move, rolling upward into the gaping stone mouth.

Ibuki stared. “Okay, that’s… actually kinda sick. Terrifying, but sick.”

Kuzuryu sighed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped forward without looking back. “Alright,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

He stepped onto the escalator. The machine carried him slowly upward and into the mouth of the stone Chris. One by one, the others followed. Sonia climbed on next, then Maizono, then Soda and the rest came after.

Soon, they had all disappeared into the rock.

The elevator hummed steadily as it descended deeper beneath the island. The Screaming Gophers stood shoulder to shoulder, silent, their faces dimly lit by the yellow glow of the overhead lights. Then came a soft ding, and the doors slid open with a hiss.

The space beyond looked nothing like what they expected. They stepped into a grand, circular chamber. The floor was checkered tile, layered with rich crimson carpets, with fourteen ornate wooden podiums standing in a wide ring at the center of the room. At the far end, raised on a marble platform, sat a throne. It was gilded, oversized, and far too theatrical for the space, so of course, lounging in it, grinning ear to ear, was Chris McLean.

“Well, well, well, just in time!” he said, spreading his arms. He leaned forward on one armrest. “Welcome, Screaming Gophers… to your very first Elimination Trial!”

The Gophers exchanged uneasy looks, and Chris gestured toward the circle of podiums. “Everyone take a stand.”

One by one, they stepped forward, taking their places behind the podiums, each wearing a different look, whether it be anxious, bitter, exhausted, whose to say.

“Alright, campers,” Chris said with a grin, “here’s how this little ceremony’s gonna go down.”

He rose and strolled in front of the group. “Back home, when you fail your boss, your teacher, your mom, whoever, you usually just take your punishment, right? No judge, no jury, simply guilty without recognition if an alternative perspective.” He turned briefly toward the camera with a smug look. “But here… on Jabberwock Island? Things work a little differently.” He stopped in the center of the room. “Because here, you get a real chance to defend yourself.”

Kuwata rolled his eyes, shooting a smirk at Ibuki as he mimicked shooting himself in the head. The rocker giggles at the joke, with him winking at her in return.

“In the coming minutes each of you will cast your vote for who you believe deserves to be sent home tonight.” He resumed pacing. “It can be for any reason: pragmatic, personal, petty, I don’t care. You don’t have to justify it to me.” He pointed toward the group. “But before you vote, you’ll have the floor to make your cases. Maybe you’ll talk about your hard work. Maybe you’ll call out someone’s mistakes. Maybe you’ll just whine for sympathy. Who knows!”

Chris leaned back against the throne again. “And once that discussion wraps up, the votes are locked in, and whoever gets the most…” He snapped his fingers with a grin. “…will be taking a nice, one-way trip back to the Dock of Shame, hopping aboard the Boat of Losers, and saying goodbye to Jabberwock Island….” He leaned forward. “That means you’re out of the contest… and you can’t come back… ever.”

Chris sat back in his throne with a wide grin and a theatrical gesture. “You may begin!” He gestured toward the group with dramatic flair. Silence followed. A few awkward glances passed between them, but no one moved.

Eventually, Hiro scratched his head and dared ask, “Uh… so like, what do we actually do now?”

Kuwata grunted. “Dude, what do you think? We gotta figure out who we’re voting off.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I know who I’m voting for,” Kuzuryu said, leveling a glare at Harukawa, “that chick was mouthing off to me the whole way back from that cliff, and I’m not gonna just sit here and take that kind of crap.”

Harukawa’s eyes narrowed. “If I remember right, I simply called you out for acting like a child. And considering your current tantrum, I suppose I was right.”

Kuzuryu’s eyes twitched, a vein popping as he leaned against his podium. “How about you say that to my face?!”

“I would, but it appears you’re too short for me to do that comfortably,” Harukawa replied.

“You bitch!”

“As entertaining as this is, perhaps you should both refrain,” Shinguji interrupted, “every pair of eyes in this room is searching for any excuse to vote someone off. You’re just doing them a favor by making it so easy.”

Kuzuryu turned his glare on him. “And why the hell should I listen to you, freakshow?”

“Because he’s correct,” Celeste slid in, her hands folded neatly on her podium. “While I have my own preferences for who I’d like to see leave tonight,” she said, glancing toward Hiro, who remained blissfully unaware, “I’m aware that I’m in no position to dictate such things. After all, I too was among those who refused to jump from that cliff.” She smiled faintly. “It would be foolish of me not to recognize that my own survival may very well depend on discretion.”

Ibuki gasped. “Whoa, are you sure it’s, like, smart to point that out?”

Kuwata nodded. “Yeah, that’s basically slappin’ a target on yourself, lady.”

Celeste shrugged lightly. “Perhaps. But if this team has any sense, they’ll see value in someone who’s at least aware of their own mistakes… unlike certain others.” Her eyes shifted to Kuzuryu. “Someone who made the same error, yet seems blissfully oblivious to how it could come back to haunt him.”

Kuzuryu’s glare wavered. He started to speak, then shut his mouth, before looking away. On the other side of the room, Harukawa allowed herself a faint smirk, quietly satisfied at the runt’s frustration.

Hiro scratched his arm nervously. “Okay, but like… for real, who we actually votin’ for?”

Sonia cleared her throat delicately. “If I may,” she said, “perhaps it would be wise to ask if anyone would like to volunteer.”

A few heads turned quickly toward her. Kuzuryu snorted. “Volunteer? Yeah, right. Who the fuck would want to do that?”

“Well… I mean… maybe someone’s homesick?” Maizono shrugged. “It’s been a really stressful day, right? Maybe someone’s just not cut out for this.”

Sonia nodded gently. “It has indeed been quite the ordeal. I only wished to offer the choice, in case anyone wanted to depart of their own volition.”

“How noble of you, Miss Sonia,” Celeste cut in, “but let us not delude ourselves; no one here will take that offer. Any self-respecting competitor intends to win, regardless of their current hand.”

“Though speaking of offerings…” Shinguji soon followed, slowly twisting his face to meet Sonia’s eyes.

“…Pardon?” she asked.

“Merely an observation, so feel free to correct me if I misinterpreted my dear princess,” Shinguji began, leaning toward her, “but during our return to camp, you seemed rather eager to take command, what with your issuing of direction and maintaining morale. It was a seemingly refined sense of leadership you displayed, and it was quite admirable… yet, given our loss, perhaps also damning.”

Sonia’s eyes widened. “W–What are you implying?” she asked, her voice uneasy.

He tilted his head. “Only that, traditionally, when a ship sinks, the captain is expected to go down with it. Perhaps this team should honor such tradition.” He hummed out a low laugh. “After all, best to cut the fat of an unworthy leader…”

A ripple of whispers moved through the group as Sonia paled. Her hands tightened on the edges of her podium as she looked around at her teammates and their judgemental stares.

“Hey, knock it off!” Soda spat, slamming a hand on his podium, “She was just trying to keep us together, jerk! You think we’d have even made it back to camp if she didn’t step up?! If anything, she kept us from falling even more behind! So how ‘bout you stop scapegoatin’ her and show a little respect! She tried, dammit!”

Shinguji didn’t argue, merely giving a quiet, thoughtful hum and nodding along to his words. “How admirable,” he said softly. He almost seemed amused.

Sonia blinked, caught off guard, then a faint smile crossed her face. “Soda,” she said quietly, “thank you.” He smiled goofily back.

Hiro raised a brow. “Yeah, but uh… can you even talk, dude? Like, how do you know she was such a great leader when you were literally gone half the day?”

Soda froze, flustered. “Hey… okay, yeah, maybe I wasn’t there the whole time,” he said quickly, “but only ’cause I was trying to stop Iruma from ditching us!”

All eyes turned to Iruma, who immediately threw up her hands. “Oh please!” she snapped. “Maybe I just wanted to get back early so I could, y’know, start the build! Ever think about that, grease monkey?! With my genius, I probably could’ve carried you all to victory! But nooo, you had to slow me down!”

Soda’s face twisted. “Are you serious right now?! You got lost! You didn’t even notice I was with you until you were already stranded in the damn woods! You’d have been late no matter what!”

Iruma sputtered. “W-Well, maybe if you didn’t weigh down my crate by groping the Hell outta the frame, we wouldn’t have crashed in the first place!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Soda barked. “You’re the one who veered off the path!”

“Enough,” Harukawa snapped. The two fell quiet. “Just shut up. We’ve been listening to this all day, and it’s driving everyone insane.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Kuzuryu muttered. “Do you two not know how to shut the Hell up?”

Hiro rubbed his temples. “And like, not to make it worse, but… didn’t you guys also bail on the cliff jump after Celeste chickened out?”

“Oh yeah…” Maizono said softly. “They did, didn’t they?”

Kuwata snapped his fingers. “Wait… y’know, if those two hadn’t chickened out, we would’ve had ten jumpers even with Celeste and Kuzuryu backing out! We could’ve at least tied with the Bass!”

Ibuki planted her hands on her hips. “And like, no offense, but you two have been fighting like this all day! It’s kinda…”

“Annoying,” Maizono finished.

“You couldn’t even put it aside during the challenge,” Harukawa added with a shake of her head.

Soda’s eyes widened. “H-Hey, come on, that’s not—”

“And not to mention, as we’ve all so helpfully reminded each other…” Shinguji cut in, “you were both gone for hours, leaving the rest of us to pick up your slack.”

“Now listen here you—” Iruma started.

“Yeah, while we were bustin’ our asses dragging crates,” Kuzuryu spoke up, “you two were out in the woods takin’ a damn field trip.”

Hiro sighed. “And then you crashed into our tub when you got back!” Hiro spat. “Like, c’mon, dudes. Maybe we coulda won!”

Soda opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, Chris let out a loud laugh from his throne. “Sorry Hiro, but there was no chance your tub was beating the Bass’ regardless!” he said, chipper.

“…Thanks, Chris,” Maizono said flatly.

The group sighed as one, every pair of eyes returning to Soda and Iruma. Both had gone stiff.

“So, to summarize, they argued through the day, abandoned us for hours, contributed nothing, and helped ensure our loss,” Celeste explained, “does that about sum it up?”

Gonta frowned. “Gonta doesn’t like blaming friends, but… everyone else did work really hard. It’s not fair to turn to anyone else…”

The Gophers glared down the two, both of them paling under the scrutiny of the attention.

Beads of sweat rolled down Soda’s face. “...Uhhhh…”

Iruma’s expression twitched, forcing a laugh. “I-I mean…”

Eventually, Soda’s voice cracked as he said. “O-Okay, wait! Just… I-I know things went bad, but I swear I was just tryin’ to help! I didn’t mean to mess anything up, just… give me another shot! I can prove myself to this team, I promise!”

“Oh give me a freakin’ break!” Iruma snapped, cutting him off. “You’re the one who tanked my chances! If I’d gotten back early, we’d have won! Instead all you did was drag me down and get the attention of a freakin’ bear!” She pointed at him. “Vote him out! He’s dead weight, a liability, just… get rid of him and thank me later!”

"At least Soda intended to stay with the group," Sonia pointed out, "while you, Miss Iruma, attempted to do quite the opposite!" Soda's expression brightened at her words, momentarily forgetting that he was on the chopping block.

Then, right on cue, a loud buzz echoed through the chamber. “And that would be… Time’s up!” Chris called out.

Soda and Iruma froze.

“…Aw, crap,” Soda whispered.

“W-wait, hold on!” Iruma stammered.

They looked around to find every teammate was staring at them.

Chris leaned forward in his throne. “Looks like it’s decision time, campers,” he said. “Hope you made your cases count, cause it’s time to vote..”

The room was thick with tension as Soda and Iruma exchanged terrified glances.

Chris pointed toward the podiums. Small mechanical clicks filled the air as panels slid open in front of each player, inside each were shiny metallic slot machines, with each reel etched with faces of their teammates. A lever gleamed beside each one.

“On your podiums, you’ll find a spinner,” Chris said cheerfully. “Just twist that bad boy till you land on the face of the unlucky sucker you wanna send packin’, then pull the lever to lock in your vote.”

At first, no one moved, each Gopher staring down at their dial. Then came the first click, as Kuzuryu turned his spinner with a firm hand and yanked the lever down hard. “Done,” he muttered.

The others looked over. A moment later, Kuwata exhaled through his nose and made his choice. One by one, each podium lit up as the levers locked into place.

After a minute, Chris raised the remote and pressed a button on the throne’s armres, and a large display screen blinked to life on the far wall. “And that’s all twelve votes locked in! Now… let’s see who’s gettin’ the boot!”

The screen began to spin, twelve squares blurring like roulette wheels. The spinning grew louder and louder, a low drumbeat rumbling under the sound…

Suddenly, lights flicked on one by one above each Gopher’s head, spotlights glowing down on them. The group flinched, shielding their eyes.

“Uhhhhhhh, dude, what’re these for?” Hiro asked, squinting upward.

“I imagine we’re about to find out,” Celeste said calmly.

The slots on the screen began to spin, faster and faster. The first one clicked to a stop. A portrait snapped into place… one of Soda, caught mid-smile.

“W-What?!” Soda yelped.

A soft buzz followed. The light above Kuwata’s head flickered out. He looked up. “Uh… hey, hold up. What’s that mean?!”

Before anyone could answer, the second slot locked in with a metallic ding. Iruma’s face appeared.

“Seriously?!” she shouted, slamming her hands on her podium.

Another buzz, and Maizono’s light faded out. She gasped, glancing around. “Oh…”

The third slot stopped. Soda again. “A-Again?!” he said weakly.

Another light went out, this time above Ibuki. “Uh… you gonna explain what these mean, host guy?” she asked. Chris just smirked. “Okay, cool!”

The fourth slot stopped. Iruma’s face appeared once more. She gripped the edge of her podium, her fingers tightening until the wood creaked. “Oh, come on!” she snapped.

The light above Sonia went dark.

The fifth slot dinged: Soda, again. The light above Celeste faded out. The sixth slot landed on Iruma. Harukawa’s light blinked out.

The seventh clicked. Soda. A hush spread through the room as Kuzuryu’s light went dark. The eighth: Iruma. Gonta’s light faded. The ninth: Soda. Shinguji’s light disappeared. The tenth: Iruma again. The light above Hiro blinked out.

Now only two harsh beams remained, cutting through the dim chamber and shining directly onto Soda and Iruma. Everyone else stood in shadow, watching.

Soda gripped his podium tight, his breathing getting faster and faster as he gripped onto his head.

Iruma fidgeted, her smirk entirely gone as her eyes darted between him and the screen.

“P-Please… p-please not me…” Soda whispered.

“Come on, come on…” Iruma muttered through clenched teeth.

The final two slots spun faster, blue and red lights flashing across their faces. Both stared at the screen as the camera panned between Soda’s trembling and Iruma’s clenched jaw.

The eleventh slot slowed… slower… and clicked into place.

Iruma’s portrait appeared.

“W-What?! No!” she shrieked.

The final slot spun.

Soda didn’t move, his eyes locked on the screen as sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Please…” he whispered. “Please…”

The slot slowed… then clicked…

Iruma.

Her eyes went wide. Her face frozen in sheer disbelief. “…What,” she breathed.

The lights overhead shifted red. On the screen, the slots began spinning again, faster this time as they faded into three reels. Then they started landing, each one locking in one after another.

Iruma.

Iruma.

Iruma.

Funfetti boomed upward, spraying through the air onto the walls in floor as Iruma’s portraits flashed and flickered red.

Soda stumbled back a step, staring up at the screen as he finally caught his breath. And then, his spotlight went out, leaving only Iruma’s still shining down on her, the sole focus in the room.

But Iruma stood frozen, her spotlight still shining down.

“Y-You’ve gotta be kidding me… n-no,” she stammered, her voice hushed back into a whisper… before biting down, clenching her teeth and jaw. “No! T-This has to be rigged! I demand a recount!”

Chris grinned. “Nope. Sorry, no rigging to be seen.” He shrugged. “So unfortunately for you, Iruma, it’s going to be light’s out!”

Iruma slammed her fists on the podium, her voice cracked with rage and embarrassment. “No… No!” she screamed. “No, no, no, no, no! I-I object!” She pounded the podium over and over, each strike louder than the last.“Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid! You’re all stupiiiiiiiiiiiiid!”

The others looked away, too drained to say anything. And eventually, all they had was the muffled sounds of screaming as Iruma’s spotlight finally flickered out, eclipsing the room in darkness.

Mascara is streaking down Iruma’s face, hands grasping onto her hair as she shook. “N-no… no, no, no! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” She slams her fists on the desk, voice cracking between sobs and shrieks. “I’m a genius! The greatest inventor in human history! You don’t vote out the brains of the operation, you worship them!”

She grips the edges of the confessional booth. “They’re just jealous! All of them! That’s it! They can’t handle someone smarter, hotter, and way more talented than they’ll ever be! So they vote me out instead of that dumb, greasy moron!”

She grabs at her hair, pulling as she lets out a frustrated wail. “This is humiliating! I was supposed to win, dammit! Not go out first like some kind of… some kind of loser!” Her voice breaks into a furious, pitiful sob. “They’ll regret this! I swear they will!” She hiccups mid-scream, collapses back into the seat, mumbling, “...stupid…stupid idiots… no taste… no vision…”

Moonlight shimmered on the Dock of Shame as Iruma trudged forward, eyes red and swollen. Her bag hung off one shoulder, bouncing with each uneven step as she sniffled and wiped her face with her sleeve.

“Stupid… dumb… morons… couldn’t handle my brilliance if it slapped ‘em in the…” she whispered to herself, trying to ignore how badly her legs were shaking.

Back on the beach, the Screaming Gophers stood together in silence, their faces a mix of relief and guilt. Soda stood near the front, hands deep in his pockets. His face was hard to read, his eyes fixed on Iruma.

Halfway down the dock, Iruma stopped. She turned to squint at the group of silhouettes watching her from the beach. Her lip trembled, then her mouth curled into a scowl.

“You suck!” she yelled, voice ringing across the water. “Every last one of you!” She flipped them off, both arms high. “I hope you lose every single challenge from here on out, assholes!”

A few of the Gophers sighed, others looked away.

Iruma grumbled something under her breath, tossed her bag onto the boat, and dropped down beside it. She crossed her arms with one final, defiant huff as the boat’s motor roared to life.

The Boat of Losers sped into the open sea, its light shrinking with distance until it vanished into the dark.

“You’d think I’d be glad, right? I get to stay another round. But… I don’t know, man.” Soda runs a hand under his beanie and through his hair. “That… didn’t feel like a win to me.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “I was this close to goin’ home. And Iruma…” He trails off for a moment. “She was annoying, yeah, but she didn’t deserve to go out like that.” He exhales, sitting back. “I’m just hopin’ the rest of ‘em don’t start lookin’ at me next. ‘Cause if I mess up again…” He gulps. “I don’t think I’ll get another shot.”

Laughter and music drifted from the patio of Hotel Mirai as the Killer Bass paried the night away. Owari and Momota were lounging in the hot tub with Enoshima and Chabashira opposite to them, steam curling around them as Tanaka and Ishimaru pulled themselves out onto the railing. Kirigiri, Owada, Togami, and Yumeno were all reclining in chairs nearby, the latter seemingly asleep, while Hoshi and Pekoyama stood nearby, having returned with more snacks for everyone.

“Man, this is heaven,” Owari said, stretching.

“We earned it,” Momota replied. “Hot tub, snacks, good music. That’s what I call a perfect night.” He raised a soda can high. “Alright, team. Before we crash, let’s give it up where it’s due.” He stood in the hot tub, droplets flying as he raised his voice. “To the Killer Bass!”

The rest of the team cheered back. “To the Killer Bass!” Cans clinked together, their voices echoing across the grounds with laughter as they oaked in their reward.

Farther down the path and walking toward the cottages, the Screaming Gophers walked in single file along the sand. Some glanced at the party, envy flickering in their eyes. Others kept walking, heads down, too tired or angry to care. They moved right along…

All except one.

Kuzuryu came to a stop, his eyes drifting toward Pekoyama as she sat by the tub, a towel draped over her shoulders while she listened to Owari talk about… something.

Kuzuryu's expression softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Are you not coming to bed, Kuzuryu?” Shinguji asked from ahead.

Kuzuryu flinched, then turned back toward the cottages. “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” he said quickly. He brushed past Shinguji, grumbling under his breath as he disappeared through the door.

Shinguji watched him go, a soft, strange laugh escaping his throat. He adjusted his mask, then turned to face the other cottages. His gaze shifted toward Harukawa as she entered her cottage without a word, now without a roommate.

Shinguji lowered his head and folded his hands. “One down,” he murmured. “Twenty-two to go.”

Chris’ keys unlocked the door to his ‘personal cottage’ (which was closer in appearance to a small mansion), pushing it up and stepping into the living room with a relaxed grin. While he certainly loved the camera, what he didn’t love so much was the work going on behind it. But now he finally had a chance to relax…

Kicking off his shoes, he walked over to the couch and threw himself onto it. He was about to drift off into a well-deserved nap… when he noticed something sitting at the edge of his reach. He reached forward, grabbing and picking up some kind of… black and white box?

He gave it a once over, then pulled off the lid… And inside…

Was… well it was some sort of plushie? One he’d never seen before, that’s for sure, yet seemed strangely familiar. It was even a little… freaky, in a sorta uncanny way.

It was a bear. Its body bordered monochromatic, split down the middle with different colors on each side; one side pitch black, the other white as snow. And in the center of its form, a sickly grin.

“The Hell is this…” he whispered to himself, rotating the toy in his hand to get a better look at it.

All the while, he remained painfully oblivious to a figure staring at him through the window. They stared a moment longer, before disappearing into the surrounding forest.

ELIMINATION RESULTS

Iruma - 7 votes. (Gonta, Harukawa, Hiro, Ibuki, Kuwata, Soda, Sonia)

Soda - 5 votes. (Celeste, Iruma, Kuzuryu, Maizono, Shinguji)

REMAINING CAST

SCREAMING GOPHERS: Celeste, Gonta, Harukawa, Hiro, Ibuki, Kuwata, Kuzuryu, Maizono, Shinguji, Soda, Sonia

KILLER BASS: Chabashira, Enoshima, Hoshi, Ishimaru, Kirigiri, Momota, Owada, Owari, Pekoyama, Tanaka, Togami, Yumeno

ELIMINATION TABLE

Miu Iruma - (24th place)