When Mouse returned to Room 11, the noise preceded the closed doors. Loud laughter, scattered jokes, and stories being told as if they hadn't just endured a deadly game that had claimed dozens of lives. The moment he pushed the door open and entered, the sounds stopped momentarily. Faces turned towards him, seven different pairs of eyes smiling as if welcoming an old member.
He remained standing, his body tense, breathing slowly as he observed them. He didn't say a word. He just closed the door quietly behind him, then walked to his upper bunk without returning their greetings. He climbed the metal ladder with heavy steps and lay on his back, trying to bury his breathing in the silence.
– "Are you okay?" asked Ryuji, the boy with the bright face who didn't seem to have ever experienced a moment of fear.
But Mouse didn't respond. He turned his face towards the wall, as if trying to hide from all the sounds. Yet, his good eye remained open, and his ears were alert. He was never oblivious to anything. He listened intently, catching every word, every tone, every laugh tinged with hidden curiosity.
The other seven quickly bonded as if they were an old family. They sat in an uneven circle sharing laughter, exchanging stories. And at that moment, the voice of the blind old man rose, sitting upright despite his lack of sight.
– "My name is Hiroshi…" he said quietly, his voice carrying the dignity of years.
–"I was a samurai instructor in the north, in the Pit as they call it. I preserved what remained of Japan's rich heritage for future generations, training the young in katana, not to kill, but to learn discipline and dignity. My students… were my family. They laughed with me, cried with me, fell and got back up. Every day we brought history to life."
He paused for a moment, then smiled a sad smile:
–"But one day, no one came. I waited for them under the roof of the training hall, the wooden swords beside me. I waited until the sun set, and only one young boy came, new, no more than fifteen. I asked him, and he said they had all left… They dreamed of becoming the greatest point hunters, of ascending to the Upper Dimension. That dream… stabbed me like a nightmare. I couldn't let them go to an unknown fate. So I am here to bring them back to their family, even though I'm blind, I can recognize them by their presence alone."
Miko, the noisy girl, could only cry as she held the old man's hand while he smiled.
On the top bunk, Mouse kept listening. He didn't move, but he felt a strange warmth in his chest. He didn't know if it was jealousy, anger, or just aversion to this warmth he lacked. He tried to bury it with silence.
But the noise was persistent too. The shy girl kept glancing at him from her corner. Ryuji didn't stop talking, telling silly jokes or making empty promises that only a fool would believe. And the large man beneath his bunk hit the wall every time he got up, shaking the entire structure.
Hours passed in this state: between their laughter and conversations, and Mouse's silence, bound by his memories. He thought only of one thing: the upcoming games.
And suddenly, the call came. The speaker blared from the metal ceiling:
–"Players in Room 11, prepare yourselves. The next game awaits you."
Everyone stood up at once, like a well-practiced team. They gathered themselves quickly, ready for a danger they didn't yet know. They were seven, but he felt they were closer to a complete unit.
As for Mouse, he rose slowly and followed them silently. His footsteps behind them were like a black shadow observing. When they reached the lit corridor leading to the game arena, he stopped abruptly.
– "I'll join your team."
The sentence came out quietly, but it was like a thunderclap. They all turned, even Miko, who was always smiling, was stunned.
Ryuji was the first to break the silence, he jumped lightly and said with a wide grin:
–"You won't regret it! I'll protect you, my friend!"
Mouse looked at him with a cold gaze, the look of someone who believes in neither promises nor protection; he had simply found that belonging to a group was the smart decision.
They continued walking until they reached the glowing digital board:
"Next Game:Team Battle. Teams of Eight. Total: 16 players. The game is about to begin."
No one knew what awaited them, but everyone felt that this time… playing wouldn't just be a test of individual courage, but a collective war where trust could mean life, and betrayal meant death.
And Mouse, with his single eye, looked at the screen not as a player in a team, but as someone who rejected the idea of the herd, not knowing if it would protect him… or devour him.