My name is Natsuo. I'm seventeen, in my final year of high school. A normal life — no extremes, no disasters. Just a straight road… and I never even wondered where it might take me.
I live alone in a small apartment near the school. My parents are far away — my mom in another city, my dad up in the north. We barely talk — and that's fine. I'm comfortable in silence.
In class, I don't stand out, but I don't disappear either. An average guy with average grades. A couple of acquaintances for brief chats — that's enough. There are no close friends.
I quickly get used to routine. Day blends into day, weeks merge into one whole. Everything looks gray — not dark, not light. Just... gray.
Friday. After waking up, I turned off the alarm, got out of bed, and slowly ate breakfast. Outside — gloomy, the sky pressing down like a wet blanket.
At school, I seemed to float along with the flow throughout the day, hardly listening to anyone. Conversations, laughter — everything felt distant, as if I were behind glass.
By evening, a strange dryness appeared in my throat. I drank water — no help. Sleep wouldn't come. I lay there, listening to my heart beating slowly but heavily. Muscles tense. My body wouldn't relax.
Something was wrong. I wasn't sick. Not more tired than usual. But with every minute, the feeling of unknown anxiety grew stronger.
It wasn't just insomnia. It was something worse. It was… waiting.
What am I waiting for? What am I afraid of? It's like someone is standing next to me, and I just haven't turned around yet.
Wearing comfortable clothes, I decided to do everything I could to fall asleep, even if only for a few minutes. Slowly, my eyes began to close. When I opened them again — I was no longer at home.
No ceiling above me, no bed beneath me.
The first thing I felt was a smooth, hard surface. It was a sensation I had never encountered before. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw thousands of people — diverse, as if randomly gathered from all corners of the world. Pale faces, eyes full of fear.
Looking around, the room had no walls. White space, flat and endless, like erased reality. I tried to stand — legs trembling but obeying. The surface beneath my feet was cold, almost transparent — like thick glass or ice, hiding something unseen below.
What is this place? Damn, where am I?
My throat was dry, and when I tried to speak, only a hoarse sound came out.
Say something. Say at least one word...
People moved. Talked. Screamed. But it all blurred into one noise — like hearing through water.
I held on. Not because I was brave. Simply because I didn't know what else to do.
Voices around gradually fell silent, as if someone was switching them off one by one. People glanced around, sensing something was coming.
I looked ahead — into the emptiness that was supposed to be empty. And there, the surface trembled — like water after a stone is thrown. From the depths, a shadow emerged.
At first blurry, it slowly took shape. A man. A black suit that fits perfectly. The white rabbit mask — covered the eyes but left the mouth open.
"Who is that?.." someone nearby whispered, afraid the voice might attract attention.
People approached the figure, trying to touch it. He didn't move. Stood like carved from stone. Then his mouth slowly stretched into something like a smile.
Hands in white gloves rose. Their eyes didn't blink. They just stared until their skulls cracked — dead silence, and the two bodies collapsed helplessly onto the glass.
Panic erupted immediately. Someone screamed. One of the people — a young man in a sports jacket — ran backward:
"Sorry! I'm sorry!" he shouted, stumbling as he ran, the words tumbling out again and again.
The Rabbit flicked the blood off his white gloves, already stained with the blood of the two. Blood flew through the air like bullets, and the boy froze mid-jump. His face disappeared under the red blotch.
My heart raced madly. My consciousness tried to grasp something.
"Who is he?.. What's happening?" — I whispered, almost unconsciously.
And then a voice. Deep, hollow. It came from nowhere but sounded like it was right beside me:
"You've been chosen. This is a game where your lives are on the line."
A game?.. Is this some show? Or maybe a dream?
"Everything is in your hands," the voice said. It sounded calm. Too calm.
A commotion arose around us. Several people came closer to each other. One man with thick eyebrows and wounds on his arms whispered:
"If this is a game — we have to play."
The Rabbit slowly raised his head. The movement was unhurried but precise — as if saying without words: "Enough. Now it's my turn to speak."
He paused, then continued: "The first game will start soon. Its name is 'Cat and Mouse.'"
A few people shuddered. Some laughed nervously — dry, uncertain. As if trying to convince themselves it was just a game. But looks at the bodies still lying on the transparent floor left no doubt.
Cat and Mouse? Is this… a joke?
I felt cold sweat run down my spine. The world around plunged into a deaf silence, and time slowed down. The air thickened with icy moisture that pierced to the bones.
Even the bravest didn't dare to move.
"You will be transferred into a labyrinth," said the Rabbit. His voice — dry, hoarse. "Your goal — survive for eight hours. Or… find the cheese."
Cheese?.. Maybe it's a metaphor?
I didn't believe my ears.
"If you find the cheese," he continued, "you will be immediately returned home. If not — only running remains."
Silence hung like a heavy roof over everyone.
— Run away... from what? — someone muttered, and the voice was lost in the general tension.
The creature in the mask barely turned its head. The movement was slow and mechanical, then it spoke:
"The maze is designed with balance in mind. Cats are bigger, but you have one advantage — burrows."
The word came sharply, like a sudden breath. It held both danger and hope at once.
"Burrows are narrow passages. Cats can't get through them. These places are only for you, the people."
My heart beat faster.
Is this a chance?..
"But," he added, "you are allowed to stay in a burrow for no more than one hour in total. You can split this duration into parts. If you exceed the allowed limit, you will be disqualified."
Hearing the answer, the teenager disappeared into the crowd, which started to bustle.
"What does 'disqualified' mean?" someone asked.
The host, if he could be called that, was silent — as if implying: isn't it obvious? Then he coldly added:
"Death."
How does death look in the game? Will it be painful? Instant?.. And if I survive — what then? Will I be able to return to a normal life? Or will silence forever remind me of this place?
I stood motionless, as if covered in ice. Thoughts tangled, but I clung to one — simple.
Breathe. Slowly. Deeply.
Closed my eyes, not letting fear cloud my thoughts.
Labyrinth. Eight hours. Cats. Cheese. Burrows… This is a game of survival.
"The game will start in three minutes," said the man in the rabbit mask, and it sounded like a verdict.
Around, people began moving. Someone grabbed someone else's shoulders, desperate for support. Others formed groups, improvised packs.
And I… stayed in place. As always. Alone.
My gaze returned to him — the figure woven from darkness. He stood still, not moving, but in that stillness was more pressure than in a scream. I gathered myself and stepped forward. Each step was like an explosion in my chest.
"How should I address you?" I asked, quietly but clearly.
The man in business attire tilted his head. The smile disappeared for a moment. It seemed to me that I made a mistake. Then it returned — familiar, fake, cold.
"Usagi," he said.
Rabbit…
It sounded too soft. Almost tender — like a mockery.
"What happens next?" I asked.
Eyes hidden behind the mask seemed empty… yet his gaze pierced right through me.
"You will find out after the first game."
I stepped back.
He turned back into a silent shadow.
Looking around, I saw faces filled with negative emotions — fear, anger, and sadness.
Will I be able to handle it on my own? Maybe…
Still in my sleep shirt and light sweatpants. No sneakers — just thin socks, already soaked from the cold glass.
Some people around were in pajamas. Others in school uniforms, sportswear, or barefoot.
In pockets — empty. No phone, keys, or even small change. Nothing. I stood here with bare hands, defenseless. Not ready to run, fight, or even flee.
How am I supposed to participate in this way?..
Beneath my feet was a mirror-like smoothness. So transparent that sometimes it felt like I was suspended in the air.
My hands shook. I pressed them to my sides to warm up a bit. A familiar pressure grew in my chest — not panic, but what comes before it. When you still control yourself but stand on the edge.
Suddenly, Usagi raised his right hand, stretched it forward, and clenched a fist. His voice rang out like thunder.
"The countdown begins."
All eyes fixed on him, including mine.
"Ten…"
People tensed.
"Nine…"
Someone prayed. Someone cried. Someone closed their eyes.
"Eight…"
I inhaled.
"Seven…"
And exhaled.
"Six…"
Heat in the chest. Cold in the palms.
"Five…"
I felt sick.
"Four…"
Every number hit like a bullet.
"Three…"
Muscles tense like a string.
"Two…"
I'm not ready. But it's too late.
"One."
At that moment, Usagi clicked his fingers.
The Rabbit's fingers closed with a soft, almost gentle sound. The space flashed with light — unexpected, warm.
I stood in its center, surrounded by a glow that cut through the darkness.
In that last moment, I thought of one thing only:
I won't be eaten.