The moment Motobuchi's sat back down, Akamatsu opened the salt-water floodgates that were his eyes, and started weeping. Audibly, his sobs were nothing special; he didn't care what anyone thought of him. All his classmates knew he was simply a stupid doofus. Even the girls made fun of him. He supposed even Shuya made fun of him, Shinji even! Inside the big exterior that was Yoshio Akamatsu, he was dying inside. There was no way out of it. He was going to be killed by one of his classmates. He wasn't going to escape the island. No more retries, no extra lives, no cheat codes or special twist in the game. This game was unescapable, and he was simply a Red Shirt who would be the villain's first victim. Why bother even trying? Everyone knew that a doofus like him would be a liability, even if they did try to escape. A large target that was easily taken down. What could he do? Nothing. Good as dead.
He was stuck between two choices. One, stand up, pull his cold, metallic collar, and simply be over and done with. No point in everyone else trying to kill him off. Why not just make it easier for all of them, rid themselves of a bullet wasted? Or...he could fight. He could find Yuichiro and Yutaka, stay together, and...wait to die. He wasn't going to kill. Neither were they, he knew them too well. So it was just a matter of chosing how to end his life. With courage and defiance, or...just a statistic?
Kamon started to make a statement about Shuya and Kuninobu. About their parents, or the orphanage. He really didn't pay attention. He was too busy stopping himself from tearing up even more, wiping it away from his eyes. But what he did hear was...uncomforting, to say the least. What the heck did he...no. Don't even think about what this demonic man did.
He looked over his class again. The row of gang-members, including them, the numerous people around the classroom's shocked expressions, their crying faces like his, them smil- wait, huh? Smiling? Why was Shuya smiling? Didn't he...oh no. What was he going to do? He was extremely surprised that Motobuchi wasn't shot the moment he stood up, so what was Shuya going to do? Was he-
Yukie's cry pierced the room, and drew Yoshio's attention to Shuya. He was sprinting towards the fat man, with a look in his eye that could only mean one thing.
He was going for the man's throat.
Throwing all caution to the wind, we stood up and tried to call out to Shuya. It was hopeless, and extremely stupid, but he didn't care. He didn't want Shuya to end like this.
"NO! DON'T SHUYA!" the boy cried out.
Whatever was happening in the room, Yuko Sakaki was not part of it. She was still not out of her delusion. It wasn't a real delision, like what Mizuho would endure, but more like a memory she was trapped in. Happier times, with her family, her friends, and...she just didn't want to be around these people, these violent violent people. Her friends weren't violent, they were nice. They wouldn't hurt her. Satomi, Haruka Yukie, Fumiya, Chisato, Yuka...she didn't notice Yukie risking her life, didn't notice the shocked expressions as Shuya Nanahara tried to commit murder, didn't notice anything. She wanted to leave this place, and never come back. Mom and dad. They would protect her.