In a near-future society, humanity is split into rulers and the ruled. The ruled have no rights. Children without parents are raised in facilities and shipped out as disposable resources once they reach adulthood. Werner, a noble of the ruling class, hosts death games as entertainment using these people. The preliminaries are a simple war of attrition—hundreds run, and only survivors advance. The champion of the main event is promised "human rights."
Kaito and Ren, both facility-raised, survive
A Will for the Survivors - The City of Hourglasses — The Two Who Pretended to Lose
The wind had stopped.
The air filling the ruins of the Sunadokei District was different from what it had been just days ago. That heavy smell—the heat of killing, blood, iron, and sweat all mixed together—had faded now. In its place, only a taut silence remained, the kind that comes just before something ends, lying over the collapsed industrial zone.
Three hours left until the time limit.
Kaito stood on the rooftop of the abandoned factory.
The concrete beneath his feet was cracked, and the exposed steel framework reflected the dull light of dusk. In the distance, the hourglass-shaped monument silently announced the dwindling time. Inside that enormous glass vessel, the last grains of sand fell without a sound.
(Three more hours.)
Kaito glanced down at the bracelet-type resource terminal on his wrist.
The screen displayed the participants' positions and possession counts. Only a handful of blue dots remained. Most of the participants had vanished—in the traps of the northern sector, in the battles of the western sector, in the lockdown of the eastern sector. Those who survived were all hiding somewhere in these ruins, either seeking rings or fearing they would be taken.
(Ren is still alive.)
On the terminal's map, Ren's blue dot appeared right beside Kaito's.
Near the collapsed fence on the rooftop.
Ren was sitting there.
His brown, unruly hair hung perfectly still in the windless air. His freckled cheeks caught the dusk light and looked a dull gold. His amber eyes were fixed not on Kaito, but on what lay between them.
Three rings.
They were arranged neatly on a rusted steel plate.
The two Kaito had hidden, and the one Ren had hidden. Undetermined, invisible to the terminal—the only loophole in this game.
"...You laid them out."
Kaito's voice was low and brief.
"Yeah."
Ren answered just as briefly.
There was no usual banter. No smile. That voice that went suddenly quiet when touching on something essential—that was exactly the state Ren was in now.
"Three hours, huh."
Ren lifted his face from the rings.
"Yeah."
"You noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
"The flies. There are more of them."
Kaito moved only his eyes and looked at the sky.
Surveillance drones—"flies"—circled the abandoned factory. Fifteen centimeters long, small. Silent by design; unless they came close, you couldn't even hear their wings. Their red eyepieces blinked ominously in the dusk air.
One. Two. Three.
They had definitely increased.
"The audience is watching."
Ren picked up one of the rings.
"The last spectacle of a game with so little left. Which one lives, which one dies. They've bet money to see it."
Ren's voice was quiet.
Kaito didn't answer.
Instead, he checked his terminal again. Still no ring response. All three rings remained undetermined. Unless someone picked one up and "confirmed" it, their existence was invisible to the audience and the oddsmen alike.
(But they can see it.)
Kaito looked at the red lenses of the circling flies.
(That we're doing something.)
(That we've laid out rings and are facing each other.)
(They can see all of it.)
"...Kaito."
Ren placed the ring in his hand at the center of the steel plate.
"I'm putting this in the middle."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm creating a standoff. Three rings, placed between the two of us. If either one takes them, the other can't meet the survival line. I'm making it look that way."
Ren moved the other two rings toward the center as well.
The three rings caught the dusk light and glimmered faintly.
"The audience will watch to see who moves first. The remaining participants might check our position on their terminals and come after the rings. Everyone's eyes will converge on this rooftop."
"...A decoy."
"Yeah. A decoy. And a way to buy time."
Ren looked at Kaito.
His amber eyes shone quietly in the twilight.
"You were thinking the same thing, weren't you."
After a few seconds of silence, Kaito gave a short nod.
"Yeah."
The two of them said nothing more.
Kaito understood Ren's intention. Ren understood Kaito's.
Each was constructing a scheme in his own head to let the other win.
Kaito traced his own plan once more in his mind.
(Let Ren win.)
(The survival line fluctuates at the Duke's whim.)
(Three points in the morning, five in the evening—or more.)
(So I'll let Ren confirm these three points.)
(I won't take a ring.)
(I'll drop out with zero possessions.)
(That way, Ren survives.)
(The problem is that Ren won't take the rings.)
Kaito looked at Ren's profile.
Ren was staring at the rings.
In that profile, Kaito saw the same calculation he himself was making.
(He's trying to let me win, too.)
(He's trying to make me take the rings.)
(That's why he put them in the center.)
(If I reach out, I confirm three points.)
(Ren drops out with zero possessions.)
(That's the picture.)
Kaito's mouth twisted faintly.
(We're each trying to keep the other alive.)
(We're each trying to make the other take the rings.)
(It's a deadlock.)
The wind blew.
The air that had been still moved, just slightly.
Kaito's short black hair swayed.
"...Which of us lights up the terminal first?"
Ren murmured.
Kaito didn't answer.
"If you confirm a ring, the terminal lights up. The audience sees it and decides the winner. The bet settles in that instant."
Ren's voice was low and quiet.
"If you take it first, you win. If I take it first, I win. Either way is fine. One of us survives."
"...Which do you want?"
Kaito asked briefly.
Ren smiled, just a little.
A faint smile, only at the corners of his mouth.
"I want you to live."
Ren's voice was serious.
"...Why?"
"Who knows. If I thought in terms of profit and loss, I should survive. But I want you to live. I don't know why. But I do."
Ren's words were the same as what Kaito had heard days ago, in the lockdown zone.
Back then, Kaito had returned the same words.
"I feel the same."
Kaito said quietly.
"I want you to live. I don't know why. But I do."
The two looked at each other.
Silence wrapped around the rooftop.
Only the faint hum of the surveillance drones could be heard.
——
Ren was unconsciously touching his left wrist.
His thumb traced the hidden mark.
The wedge-shaped brand carved beneath his sleeve.
Proof that he was a member of Kusabi.
Kaito bore the same brand in the same place.
Days ago, the two had shown each other their marks.
They had confirmed they were accomplices.
But that was all.
What mission each carried. What past each bore. What lies each held.
None of it had been revealed yet.
(I lied to my little brother.)
Ren stared at the rings and looked back on the past.
("I'll catch up soon.")
(That was a lie.)
(I left my brother behind and ran alone.)
(What happened to him after that?)
(Whether he's alive or dead, I don't even know.)
(But I survived.)
(Only to keep the lie I told my brother.)
(I've survived this long.)
Ren reached toward the rings.
But he didn't touch them.
His fingertips were trembling faintly.
"...Kaito."
"What."
"You're carrying something too, aren't you."
Kaito didn't answer.
Instead, the memory of the preliminaries rose in the back of his mind.
(The girl chosen by lottery.)
(She was smiling.)
("Live," she said.)
(I survived.)
(She died.)
(I can't forget her smile.)
(So I have to let someone live.)
(I have to let Ren live.)
(If I don't, her smile will have been for nothing.)
Kaito traced the old scar above his left eyebrow with his finger.
The pain was gone.
But the helplessness of that night still remained in his bones.
"...You're carrying something too, aren't you."
Kaito said it low.
Ren looked slightly surprised.
Then he nodded quietly.
"...Yeah."
"Same, then."
"...Same."
The two fell silent again.
The three rings shone quietly in the twilight.
——
At that time, on the aerial viewing terrace installed on the ninety-fifth floor, at the top of the Sunadokei District, a man was looking down at the rooftop through the glass.
Long silver hair swept back. Cold, pale blue eyes. A mouth that seemed perpetually smiling. On his left hand, a ring with a large gemstone.
Duke Veruna fon Arusutoremu.
Head of the Veruna ducal house, one of the five great noble families standing at the apex of the Cage's ruling class. Chairman of the Holder Council, and host of the Tokeibako.
His footsteps made almost no sound.
He walked the terrace floor without a sound and placed his hand on the glass railing.
"...Those two still won't kill each other."
The Duke's voice was calm and theatrical.
"Yes. They've been glaring at each other for over thirty minutes now."
The oddsman attending at his side answered while checking his terminal.
"How dull."
The Duke sighed, still smiling.
"The audience must be getting bored by now. Shall we set up another disruption? A false ring signal in the northern sector, once more—"
"No, wait."
The Duke cut off the oddsman's words.
"No one has died yet."
The Duke spoke slowly, looking down at the two on the rooftop.
"Less than three hours remain until the time limit. In this situation, two participants are facing each other across a set of rings without killing each other. ...This is unexpected."
"Unexpected, sir?"
"Yes. I have hosted thirteen Tokeibako games. The participants were all the same. They fought over rings, killed each other, and in the end, betrayed even their comrades to survive. That was the common sense of this game."
The Duke narrowed his pale blue eyes.
"But those two are different. Far from killing each other, they're each trying to keep the other alive. Isn't that right?"
"...That is how it appears."
"Those two are hiding something."
The Duke's voice dropped slightly.
"They're hiding three rings, undetermined. A loophole invisible to the terminal. Those two have noticed that loophole. And they're trying to use it to make this game their own."
"...What are they plotting?"
"Who knows. That, I don't know yet. But it's interesting."
The Duke laughed.
A cold smile, only at the corners of his mouth.
"Predictable harmony is dull. A game should be like this. Participants betray my expectations. That moment is the sweetest of all."
The Duke released the railing.
"Cancel the additional disruption. Let's watch those two to the very end, to see what they do."
"But then the audience's bets—"
"The bets will shift greatly at the final moment. That should be fine."
The Duke turned his back on the oddsman.
"Those two will surely show me a crueler ending. That is what I expect."
The Duke's footsteps faded into the terrace.
The oddsman, staring at his terminal, was breaking into a cold sweat.
——
In a corner of the terrace, a young man was looking down at the rooftop through the glass.
Erich fon Arusutoremu.
The Duke's only son. Twenty-two years old.
He listened to his father's words while intently observing the movements of the two on the rooftop.
(Those two...)
Erich felt something off about the positional relationship between Kaito and Ren.
(There's no sign they'll kill each other.)
(Far from it—they're moving as if to protect each other.)
(Those two aren't just participants.)
(They have some other purpose.)
Erich took out his own terminal.
The screen displayed detailed data on Kaito and Ren.
From Sodateya No. 7. Facility-raised resources. They survived the preliminaries on luck alone.
(...Luck alone?)
Erich read the data over and over.
(These two's movements aren't just luck.)
(They're calculated.)
(As if they knew the mechanics of this game from the very start.)
Erich gripped his terminal.
(Father said those two are hiding something.)
(If those two intend to break this game...)
(What should I do?)
Erich pushed the unanswerable question deep into his chest.
——
Sara Nokkusu was hiding in the shadows of the unlocked piping sector.
Her long black hair was tied back in a single bundle. Her narrow black eyes watched the two on the rooftop fro
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