Archive of Our Own

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."