[Day 2 │ 17:10 │ Northeast Sector: Resort Grounds]
The afternoon sun filtered through the surrounding trees, scattering patches of warmth across the resort's winding pathways. Somewhere beyond the forest, waves broke gently against the shore, their distant rhythm almost soothing.
For a place that had already witnessed so much uncertainty, the island looked remarkably peaceful.
Shun wasn't particularly reassured. Walking alongside Lux Nightingale, he checked the sleek digital screen on his wrist. The message log hummed back with the same blank display he'd looked at a dozen times already.
Nothing new.
Fuji hadn't contacted him since leaving to investigate Noah. Normally, Shun wouldn't have thought much of it. Fuji had a habit of getting caught up in whatever interested him, and he was more than capable of looking after himself. Still, considering everything that had happened since their arrival, Shun would have preferred at least a brief update.
"Still nothing?"
She strolled beside him with her oversized penguin plush tucked snugly against her chest, her eyes darting between the thickets as if expecting Fuji to pop out from behind the nearest fern.
Shun shook his head, offering a quiet sigh.
"Hmm..." Lux tapped her chin, considering his response. "Maybe he's just tied up with something? Or he found something interesting and forgot to update us." She paused, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Actually... that sounds like something Fuji would do."
A faint, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Shun's mouth. She wasn't wrong, but the logic did little to ease the quiet knot tightening in his gut.
They walked in silence for a while. Lux drifted along the edge of the path, pausing every few steps to admire the vibrant tropical flora bursting through the stone borders. Eventually, her gaze wandered back to Shun—specifically, to the faint, metallic pulse of the choker clamped around his throat.
"Hey... can I ask you something?"
Shun turned, catching her inquisitive look.
"Does that thing hurt?"
He gave his head a quick, definitive shake.
"Oh, good." Relief softened her features, though her eyes lingered on the heavy collar a moment longer. "It still looks pretty uncomfortable, though."
He gave a slight, casual shrug. Occupational hazard.
"Mm... I guess you've just gotten used to it by now?"
Shun tilted his palm back and forth in a half-and-half gesture. Sort of.
Lux offered a sympathetic smile. "Well, I hope you get to take it off soon. It must be frustrating, not being able to speak."
Shun paused, raising an eyebrow. He pointed a finger straight at his chest, then jabbed it toward her, tilting his head with an exaggerated expression of theatrical suspicion.
Lux blinked, thrown off. "What?"
He repeated the sequence—pointing at himself, pointing at her, then crossing his arms while giving her a narrowed, accusatory glare.
It took her three seconds to catch on.
"Wait—are you asking if I prefer you being quiet?"
Shun gave a single, solemn nod.
"Are you teasing me?"
He offered an innocent smile.
"Wow. And here I was actually being nice and worrying about you. I take it all back." She playfully pouts.
Shun pressed a hand over his heart, staggering back half a step as if struck by a lethal blow. Lux couldn't help but chuckle.
Their light banter carried them to an intersection. The left trail wound toward the manicured resort gardens; the right angled sharply along the perimeter of the northern forest.
Lux slowed to a halt, coming to a stand beside the sign. "Hey, Shun?"
He turned to look at her.
"What if we split up for a bit?" She gestured toward the gardens. "I could look around here while you check the forest trail. We might have a better chance of finding Fuji that way."
Shun studied the two pathways. It wasn't a bad suggestion. They had limited daylight remaining, and covering more ground would certainly be useful. However, the idea of leaving Lux alone didn't sit particularly well with him. He glanced toward the gardens, then back at her.
Lux noticed his expression. "What's wrong? Are you worried about me?"
Shun gave a reluctant nod.
Aw... how cute. Lux felt a little touched by his concern.
"I'll be fine. I'm not a kid, hmph." When he still didn't look sold, she gestured back toward the main complex behind them. "The gardens run right along the resort border, anyway. If anything happens, I will just head back, okay?"
Shun considered her answer before raising his wrist. Then, pointing toward her watch, he made a brief gesture suggesting that she contact him.
Lux leaned closer to follow his instructions. "I'll message you if I find anything?"
He nodded.
"Got it," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Be safe out there."
After a moment, he finally relented. There was little point in treating Lux as though she couldn't make decisions for herself. She understood the risks, and he respected that. Still, he intended to keep his watch close.
Lux adjusted the penguin beneath her arm. "Do you know you're actually getting pretty good at communicating without talking?"
Shun tilted his head, looking mildly pleased.
"Although..." She grinned. "I think I'm getting pretty good at understanding you, too."
Shun raised a single finger, tapped his throat collar, and then spread both hands out with a dramatic, helpless shrug.
Lux stopped, staring at him. "...What is that supposed to mean?"
He repeated the motion—throat, then open hands—a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.
"Are you saying you don't need to talk anymore?"
He smiled mischievously.
"Hahaha!" Lux laughed. "I take it back. Maybe I'm not that good after all."
Shun chuckled soundlessly, stepping forward to pat her shoulder gently in a silent sign-off.
"Okay. I'll get going now." She took a few steps toward the garden pathway, then turned around.
Shun held up two fingers in a low farewell. "See you later," she called out, her form dipping past a bend lined with high foliage.
He stood there until the sound of her light footsteps fully dissolved into the quiet. Only then did he turn to face the dark archway of the northern trail.
He tapped his wrist screen one last time.
Still nothing.
Come on, Fuji. Where have you gotten yourself into?
Dismissing the interface, Shun continued toward the forest. The trees gradually swallowed the sound of his footsteps.
[Day 2 │ 17:25 │ Northeast Sector: Resort Gardens]
The resort gardens were far more silent than Lux had anticipated.
Immaculately manicured flowerbeds framed the winding cobblestone path, their pastel petals swaying gently in the cool sea breeze.
Lux drifted along the pathway; her arms wrapped securely around her plush. She hadn't found any sign of Fuji—not that she'd expected him to be taking a casual stroll through the lilies, but checking had felt better than doing nothing.
As she rounded a high hedge, a new sound cut through the rustle of the leaves: low, rhythmic humming, soft and slightly out of tune.
Lux checked her stride, slowing her pace.
A short distance away, a girl sat perched on the edge of a wooden bench, leaning over a wide sketchbook. Her pencil moved in quick, delicate strokes across the paper. Every few seconds, she would tilt her head, glance critically at a cluster of flowers beside the bench, and then return to her drawing with focused intensity.
Kusako?
Lux paused. Finding anyone out here was a surprise, but watching someone casually sketching in the middle of a high-stakes survival game was downright bizarre.
She lingered at the edge of the clearing, watching the pencil glide across the page. There was something oddly comforting about it. Lux had always admired creative people—the way they could tune out the noise of the world just to bring something new into existence.
Maybe I should just keep moving, Lux thought, taking a half-step back. Kusako looked completely absorbed, and the last thing Lux wanted to do was intrude on someone's rare moment of peace. Yet, her eyes kept straying back to the charcoal-smudged edges of the paper.
I wonder what she's drawing.
Lux lingered a little longer than she intended. Eventually, curiosity won.
"Um... hi, Kusako."
The humming cut off instantly. Kusako flinched, her head snapping up with wide, startled eyes.
"Oh—" She blinked, her shoulders tensing as she scrambled to process the intrusion.
"Sorry, did I startle you?" Lux offered an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Nu, iz oke." Kusako reflexively pulled the sketchbook a little closer to her chest. "I was... just drawing."
"I see."
"Uh..."
"Oh, right." Lux blinked, realising they hadn't introduced themselves. "My name is Lux. Lux Nightingale."
Kusako gave a small nod. "Hello, Nightingale-san."
"Hehe, you can just call me Lux if you'd like."
"O-Oke, Nightingale-san."
Silence stretched between them. Lux had initiated the greeting on impulse, but now that she had Kusako's attention, she realized she hadn't planned a single follow-up phrase. Kusako seemed equally paralyzed, her pencil hovering awkwardly an inch above the paper, waiting for whatever was supposed to happen next.
A long five seconds ticked by.
Desperate to break the ice, Lux pointed vaguely toward the nearby flora. "Are you drawing those?"
Kusako followed her finger. "Oh. Yee."
"I thought they looked really nice."
"They do."
Lux smiled faintly, shifting her weight. "The colours are really pretty."
"Mm." Kusako glanced toward the flowerbed. "I liked how they looked together."
"Ahh..." Lux nodded.
That seemed to be the end of the conversation.
She should probably just turn around, give a polite goodbye, and leave the girl to her art. Yet her gaze stubbornly locked back onto the thick, heavy paper of the sketchbook.
"Um..."
Kusako looked up, her expression guarded. "Hm?"
"Would you mind if I had a look?"
Kusako's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the page. "...Ah."
She hadn't prepared for that. Her drawings weren't a secret, per se, but showing them to people—especially people she barely knew—always triggered a sudden, uncomfortable flare of embarrassment. Unfinished sketches were even worse. They felt raw, messy, and exposed.
"Um... it's still a work in progress," Kusako stammered, looking down at the graphite lines.
"Oh, that's okay." Lux caught the subtle pull in the girl's posture and immediately softened her tone. "But you don't have to show me if you're not comfortable. I was just curious, haha."
Kusako looked at her. "Oh."
"Sorry for asking so suddenly."
Kusako watched her retreat, feeling a strange prickle of guilt. "...Ye."
Another quiet spell settled over the garden.
Lux didn't mind the silence, but a glance at Kusako's tense shoulders made her hesitate.
Am I making her uncomfortable just standing here? Yeah... I should probably get out of her hair.
Lux adjusted the penguin under her arm, clearing her throat lightly. "Well, I should probably head—"
"Um, Nightingale-san?"
Lux looked back. "Yes?"
Kusako was staring intensely at the blank corner of her page, her inner dialogue visibly warring across her face.
Ugh, I'm doing it again...
It has always been like this. Someone would approach Kusako, she'd give a few short answers, and before she knew it, they'd be leaving. Then she'd spend the rest of the day wondering whether she'd seemed unfriendly.
I really need to stop doing that.
She looked up. Lux hadn't pressured nor snapped at her, and had instantly backed off the second she picked up on Kusako's hesitation. She was just being genuine. And honestly... Kusako did want to share it. She was just terrified of being judged.
I said I wanted to change, didn't I? It was only a drawing, after all.
Maybe I should try being a little more open.
"...You can look, if you want." Kusako lifted her sketchbook.
Lux blinked. "Really?"
Lux stepped closer, her eyes scanning the page. The sketch was surprisingly detailed—delicate, sweeping outlines captured the intricate overlap of the petals, reinforced by soft, layered graphite shading that gave the illustration a striking sense of depth. Faint construction lines still crisscrossed the background, framing the unformed leaves.
Lux stared at the page in absolute silence for several long seconds.
Kusako's heart began to hammer against her ribs. Is it bad? Oh god, it must be ugly. The longer the silence stretched, the more Kusako wanted to fold the book in half and hide under the bench.
"This is very pretty."
Kusako blinked, her brain short-circuiting. "Really?"
"Mm-hm. The way you shaded the petals is incredible." Lux leaned in a fraction closer, careful not to crowd her. "They look so soft. Like you could actually reach out and touch them."
"Oh..." A faint flush crept up Kusako's cheeks, and a small, flustered smile broke through her anxious expression. "Thank you... I was actually really struggling with that part."
"Really?"
"Ye. I kept making 'em too dark."
Lux looked back and forth between the real blossoms and the graphite twin on the paper. "Hmm... I think they look nice, though."
Kusako looked down at the page again, the harsh critical lens in her mind suddenly softening. "...Maybe." She let out a small, breathless laugh. "I guess I've just been staring at it for too long."
Lux smiled. "Haha, maybe."
For a few moments, the tension completely evaporated. Kusako looked down at the paper, a quiet sense of pride settling in her chest.
That wasn't so bad.
Feeling a small burst of courage, Kusako decided to push her boundaries a little further.
"Do you draw too?"
Lux looked up, taken aback by the question. "I used to."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Back when I was younger."
Kusako tilted her head, genuinely intrigued. "What kind of things did you draw?"
"Just random stuff." Lux traced a thumb over her plush's wing as she thought back. "Animals, landscape doodles... sometimes little cartoon characters I made up."
"Ohh!" Kusako's eyes lit up instantly. "That's so cute!"
Lux laughed softly, her cheeks tinting slightly. "Thanks."
Her gaze drifted to the sketchbook. She could still remember those lazy afternoons spent surrounded by scattered colored pencils, completely losing track of time as she filled page after page. When had she stopped making time for that? When had life gotten so loud?
She doesn't draw anymore?
That was a shame. It would've been nice to see what Nightingale-san liked to draw.
But maybe she'd simply grown out of it.
Should I ask why?
Kusako hesitated. That might be a little personal, especially when they'd only just started talking. She looked down at her sketchbook.
What else do I do now?
They'd already talked about her drawing. She could ask Lux about her other hobbies, perhaps, but wouldn't that sound like an interview?
Ahh, I don't know...
Her pencil hovered uselessly over the margin as panic threatened to re-establish itself. She stole a desperate glance sideways, hoping for some miraculous conversational lifeline—and her eyes landed squarely on the fat, black-and-white plush squeezed tightly under Lux's arm.
Kusako blinked, her train of thought instantly derailed. She hadn't really registered it earlier, but looking at it now...
Woaahh... kawaii.
The plush was absurdly round, featuring stumpy little flippers, tiny feet, and an expression of pure, blissed-out detachment from reality.
Kusako stared at it, transfixed.
Lux noticed her staring at the penguin. "Do you like it?" Lux lifted the plush, holding it out slightly.
Kusako's eyes practically sparkled. "It's very cute."
Lux beamed. "Yeah. Ace won it for me."
"Won it?"
"Yeah. From the game room at the resort."
Kusako blinked. "There's a game room?"
"You haven't seen it?"
Kusako shook her head.
"It's inside the resort. There are a few games you can play."
"That sounds fun." Kusako stared at it with renewed interest.
She'd spent a fair amount of time exploring the island, but she'd somehow missed that. Then again, she'd been rather occupied with her missions.
I wonder what other prizes they have...
"Do they have bears?"
Lux blinked. "Bears?" She paused, tapping her chin as she searched her memory. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I didn't look at all the prizes."
"Oh..."
"But I'm pretty sure I saw a few big stuffed animals in the back."
Kusako's posture straightened slightly, her eyes widening.
Lux couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Haha, do you like bears?"
"Yee." Kusako nodded with absolute conviction.
Lux smiled warmly. "Well, you should definitely check it out when you get a chance."
Kusako watched her, her internal appraisal of the girl shifting. She's so nice.
When she'd first spotted Lux, she'd pegged her as cold and strictly off-limits—the quintessential stoic lone wolf. Up close, though, the icy facade vanished completely; Lux was warm, patient, and disarmingly easy to talk to.
Kusako felt a small pang of self-reproach. Huuwaaa... I need to stop judging people from afar.
For a few pleasant minutes, the silence returned—this time free of tension. Lux watched as Kusako added a few delicate cross-hatchings to her flower stem, the rhythmic scratch of the pencil filling the air.
Gradually, Lux's eyes drifted past the sketchbook, settling on the archway of the garden entrance.
Still nothing.
No sign of Fuji nor notifications on her wrist.
Lux smoothed her hand over the plush's head. Sitting here, talking about art and arcade prizes, it was shockingly easy to forget where they were. For a brief window, the nightmare of the game—the timers, the secrets, the constant dangers of someone stabbing you in the back—had faded into the background.
I need to find out what's happening out there.
She cast a sideways glance at Kusako. Lux also recalled a detail from the day before—hadn't Kusako mentioned that she held a support-type role? Lux weighed the possibility. Kusako was quiet, shy, but clearly kind-hearted. If she truly holds a support-type role, building a solid bridge with her right now could prove vital down the line.
"Actually… Kusako?" Lux's voice dropped, carrying a subtle edge of anxiety.
"Ye?"
"Have you explored around?"
"Oh, yee." Kusako replied. "Just walking around for a bit."
"Did you run into anything interesting?"
Kusako thought back over her route. "Interesting? Not really. Just a lot of trees and empty paths."
Then Lux leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just a touch. "Then, have you seen many of the others around today?"
Kusako looked up, her pencil resting lightly on the paper. "The others?" Kusako paused, recalling her morning route. "I saw a few earlier."
"Really?"
"Yee. But it was quite a while ago, so am not sure if it'll help much."
"That's fine." Lux gave a small, encouraged smile. "Who did you run into?"
"Um..." She glanced vaguely back toward the garden gate. "Agapova-san was near the resort entrance. And I passed by Serene-san and Hyun-san, too," she added, her gaze dropping right back to her sketchbook as her pencil resumed its light, rhythmic strokes.
Ace and Silver... Lux processed the names silently before pausing. "Wait... who's Hyun-san?"
Kusako blinked, realizing the mix-up. "Ah, Hyun Asher-san. His family name is Hyun." She looked down, a soft touch of embarrassment in her voice as her pencil idly traced the edge of the page. "In Japan, we usually use someone's last name first out of respect."
"Oh, I didn't know that. That's interesting." Lux's face lit up. "How thoughtful Japanese culture is—it sounds so respectful and sweet. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, it just caught me off guard for a second."
Kusako blinked, a soft flush of relief hitting her cheeks. "Izzoke. But that's pretty much all I saw."
Lux nodded thoughtfully, her smile lingering. "Thank you, Kusako—that really helps a lot."
Still no sign of Fuji. She'd held out a faint hope that Kusako might have crossed paths with him somewhere along the outer loops. Lux lowered her head slightly, her gaze drifting off as she appeared to fall deep into thought.
Kusako quietly resumed her shading, feeling a faint prickle of awkwardness. Why is she asking me so many questions?
It seemed innocent enough—everyone on the island was trying to get their bearings and piece together a map of the sectors. Still, the sudden weight in Lux's silence felt odd.
"Then that's good. By the way, you shouldn't get close to the forest," Lux said softly, breaking the silence as she looked back up. Her tone had lost its light, easygoing warmth, replaced by a low, serious murmur. "I just came back from out there a little while ago... and something happened."
Kusako's hand stilled. She tilted her head up, her eyes wide behind her long bangs. "What happened?"
Lux didn't answer immediately. She searched Kusako's face with a quiet, lingering intensity, as if carefully measuring the girl sitting on the bench.
"Before that..." Lux hesitated, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you a Survivor, Kusako?"
Kusako blinked, her posture stiffening just a fraction. But her expression remained completely smooth, her voice dripping with soft, innocent confusion. "Am not a Hunter."
Lux held her gaze for two long seconds before letting out a slow, cautious breath, letting her shoulders slump slightly as if relenting. "Okay..."
She leaned in a fraction closer, lowering her voice further. "I was walking with Shun earlier. We're both Survivors, and we were trying to figure out a way to solve this game and get everyone out. But out of nowhere, Shun got attacked."
Kusako's lips parted slightly, a genuine flicker of shock breaking through her reserved demeanor. "Attacked?"
"He was muted," Lux said, her eyes darkening. "It was very sudden. Just like Akhina yesterday. It completely shocked us. He can't speak at all right now." She paused, letting the weight of it sink in before continuing tightly, "I don't know for sure, but I think the Hunters are actively trying to silence us—targeting the Survivors who are actually trying to work together before we can organize."
Kusako listened in total silence, her fingers resting lightly against the spine of her sketchbook.
"That's why I thought of speaking about this with you," Lux pressed on, her eyes locking onto Kusako with pleading earnestness. "We've been trying to form a team. We thought that if we could find more Survivors, maybe we'd have a better chance of figuring out who the Hunters are. Do you want to join us?"
Kusako looked down at her lap, her mind turning behind her quiet exterior.
Hunters silencing people?
If Sakamoto-san was attacked, why is Nightingale-san wandering around alone looking for allies instead of staying hidden?
"We should exchange information on our roles so we can protect each other," Lux suggested, her tone warm and open. "I can go first—my role is Information Broker. I can scan once a night to see if someone nearby has an active combat role. I don't have any defense or attack skills of my own, unfortunately."
She watched Kusako carefully, waiting for a response.
Kusako's pencil hovered over her page. An Information Broker... It sounded plausible enough given how much Lux wandered around asking questions.
Lux watched Kusako's lingering silence, sensing the wall of caution rising between them. Rather than pushing harder, Lux offered a gentle, understanding step back.
"It's okay if you don't want to join the alliance. I know it's hard to trust anyone here. I won't force you."
Kusako's thoughts raced. Nu... going completely solo right now is way too dangerous, especially if Hunters are actively silencing people.
Isolation will make her an easy target. Joining forces—or at least pretending to—will allow her to stay connected while keeping an eye on Lux and test if she was telling the truth. To play her part, Kusako offered a soft, timid smile.
"Nu, it's not that," Kusako replied, shaking her head slightly. "Am oke with joining."
She hesitated, glancing down at her sketchbook.
"Um, my role is a support-type. I can strengthen someone's abilities or make their skills more effective."
Lux's eyes lit up with profound relief. "Wait, a skill buff?"
"Yee," Kusako said, playing the naive, eager-to-please persona.
"Have you used it yet?"
Kusako hesitated. "Not yet."
Then maybe... She glanced at Kusako.
"Would you mind helping me tonight?"
Kusako blinked. "Tonight?"
"Yeah." Lux held the penguin a little closer. "I was thinking of using my ability to look for the Hunters. But after what happened to Shun, I'm a little worried."
"Ohh."
"If your ability could help mine, maybe it'd be easier to find someone useful." Lux paused. "But only if you're comfortable with it."
Kusako studied her. So that's what she wants. She'd suspected Lux might ask for something once the conversation turned to their roles. Still, she hadn't expected the request to come so soon.
"Isn't it better to help Sakamoto-san?"
Lux thought for a moment. "Maybe. But we split up earlier, and I don't know where he is right now."
"Right..."
"And since he can't send messages, it's difficult to coordinate."
Kusako nodded slowly. That was understandable.
Still, she couldn't help wondering whether she was making the right decision. Lux's explanation made sense, though she still wasn't entirely convinced.
Hmm, there's no harm in cooperating for now.
"Oke. I can cast it on you tonight since you'll be out looking for others."
Lux looked up. "Really?"
"Yee." Kusako offered a small, hesitant smile. "If it'll help us find the Hunters."
Lux's shoulders relaxed slightly, a silent surge of relief washing over her. A support skill. Having her pledging to back me up makes everything so much easier.
"Thank you, Kusako. I really appreciate it," Lux said warmly. "I'm going to see if I can recruit a few more Survivors before it gets too dark. Stay safe, okay?"
"Oke," Kusako replied quietly. "Be careful, Nightingale-san."
Lux turned and walked briskly down the path toward the garden exit.
The moment she rounded the heavy evergreen hedge and was out of sight, the warm relief vanished from Lux's face.
Pulling up her watch, she checked her surroundings to ensure she was alone. Her expression hardened into something quiet, focused, and deeply resolute.
She agreed to support me, Lux thought, her fingers hovering over her chat with Shun. She felt a heavy, lingering pang of guilt for guiding Kusako into an alliance under false pretenses. Kusako was sweet and just trying to survive, but Lux had an objective to complete, and there was no more room for error.
I'm so sorry, Kusako... but I have to do this.
Standing in the dimming afternoon shadows, Lux typed out her message:
[Watch Display │ Message to Shun]: "I think I've found our ████████████ Do what you can on your side."
She hit send. The screen dimmed, leaving Lux standing alone beneath the fading afternoon light. Her gaze drifted toward the distant beach huts, where the last rays of sunlight barely reached.
There was no turning back now.