"Mister Takizawa, I can't even be bothered with your little challenge. If you think you can win in a 'fight' then fine. You can even have your little power back. I think I know someone as childish as you who will be happy to 'play' with you, brat." Father doesn't even look around when the votes are in. He yawns from his chair as the sirens begin once more. For a third time the ceiling opens and a container descends.
Yuta vanishes from the trial room, appearing in the container. He raises his hand and waves his hand defiantly at the group below. At first nothing seems to appear in the room next to him. There's just a shimmer of purple on the glass of the container. Suddenly Yuta stops waving.
A young child's voice echoes in the mind of everyone present. ...let's play, Yuta. Tag, I think. I'll give you three tries, if you don't... catch me... you'll break.
The voice grows silent as Yuta glances around at the container. His brow furrows in concentration. His hand reaches out, trying to locate the sound of the voice. A glimmer of purple shines on the edge of the container; he reaches out. The glimmer is encased in something before it fades.
One.
Yuta frowns again, turning on his heels to try to catch another glimmer of light on the roof of the container. Again, the light fades as he misses.
Two.
The last glimpse of purple is behind him. He reaches out once more, trying desperately to encase the purple light in his grip. The giggling of a young girl echoes in every mind.
Three... you lose, Yuta. Break, now.
What happens next is a blur of activity. Yuta starts scratching at himself. His face, his neck, his arms, legs... he keeps trying to get at something that the group below can't see. At best it looks like some kind of rash is crossing his skin. The scratching continues, drips of blood falling to the container.
Almost as soon as it starts the movement stops. Yuta falls to his knees, then to his side. Yuta Takizawa is dead.
The giggling of a child echoes in your ears as the container is taken away from view. "Always childish, that one... tag, bah. Go back to your rooms!" The sheep look at each other in dismay as they herd everyone back into the elevator as Father starts to stretch from his chair.
EXECUTION: You Can't Catch Me (CW: scratching, unintentional self harm.)
Yuta vanishes from the trial room, appearing in the container. He raises his hand and waves his hand defiantly at the group below. At first nothing seems to appear in the room next to him. There's just a shimmer of purple on the glass of the container. Suddenly Yuta stops waving.
A young child's voice echoes in the mind of everyone present. ...let's play, Yuta. Tag, I think. I'll give you three tries, if you don't... catch me... you'll break.
The voice grows silent as Yuta glances around at the container. His brow furrows in concentration. His hand reaches out, trying to locate the sound of the voice. A glimmer of purple shines on the edge of the container; he reaches out. The glimmer is encased in something before it fades.
One.
Yuta frowns again, turning on his heels to try to catch another glimmer of light on the roof of the container. Again, the light fades as he misses.
Two.
The last glimpse of purple is behind him. He reaches out once more, trying desperately to encase the purple light in his grip. The giggling of a young girl echoes in every mind.
Three... you lose, Yuta. Break, now.
What happens next is a blur of activity. Yuta starts scratching at himself. His face, his neck, his arms, legs... he keeps trying to get at something that the group below can't see. At best it looks like some kind of rash is crossing his skin. The scratching continues, drips of blood falling to the container.
Almost as soon as it starts the movement stops. Yuta falls to his knees, then to his side. Yuta Takizawa is dead.
The giggling of a child echoes in your ears as the container is taken away from view. "Always childish, that one... tag, bah. Go back to your rooms!" The sheep look at each other in dismay as they herd everyone back into the elevator as Father starts to stretch from his chair.