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『Attack ÷ Maneuvering + Distance =』

Seeing someone get shot is quite the stimulating sight.
It feels like something bursts from inside the body, the sensation of scattering tracing the surface of my eyes.
The surrounding screams seem to chase the blood spray, and my eardrums drip with a pus-like pleasure and its echo. The situation writhes down my spine, smearing me with gratification. I can almost understand the feeling of a beast getting excited by the color red and losing itself.
Hm? Am I a beast? Nah.
At least, I believe I'm doing something only a human could right now.
Being a liar, you say? Deception, maybe? No, conscience. That's a lie.
But I wonder how that's evaluated.
Besides, being able to enjoy an environment where your own kind is hurt unreasonably—that's uniquely human.
Though I'd absolutely refuse to get shot myself.

***

First, I took off my shoes. Socks too, while I was at it. "Okay, Maa-chan, you take off your shoes too."
"Why? It's dirty here, I don't wanna." Her refusal, completely oblivious to the situation, astonished me.
How many times in my life have I wished I could use 'Make Order'?
"If they get dirty, I'll wipe them later. You want to eat your bento at lunch, right?"
"Ooh, Mii-kun's gonna lick lick Maa-chan's feet, is he?"
Mayu focused on the first half of the sentence, her eyes glazing over. "Don't tell me you're reque—" "Okay, forty-third request, deciiiided!" Ugh.
"...For now, just keep your voice down a bit, okay?" *I should stop thinking about the consequences.*
"Okay, let me take them off for you—" "Okay, okay."

I place Mayu's shoes next to mine on the mat. While vaguely imagining if adding a white envelope would make people mistake this for a suicide scene, I put my hands and feet on the ladder fixed to the wall.
This ladder provides access to the support framework spread across the gymnasium ceiling, the kind used by maintenance workers to adjust the lights. Students are forbidden from climbing it, but sneaking past the teachers' eyes to climb to the top and jump onto the giant mat below has its own appeal. Do that, and you're guaranteed chicken for dinner. Just kidding.
To move behind the scenes stealthily, I had no choice but to travel even higher than the stage level. If I'd found a tengu's invisibility cloak, or if I were an alien from the jungle, I'd stride across brazenly like the principal during morning assembly.
Then again, if I were invisible, I'd just ambush the attacker in the first place. Which rather defeats the purpose.
Now, why attempt to move? We, along with the attacker and the other victims, are currently positioned diagonally opposite each other. Assuming a position on the assembly platform center stage, from that viewpoint, we're hidden in the left stage wing, while the attacker is near the basket under the right-side goal on the basketball court ahead. Like this, we can't formulate any plan against an opponent with a ranged weapon, nor can we clearly hear their conversation.
So, I decided to try moving to the broadcasting room in the opposite stage wing, the side where the piano sits quietly.
Figure out the attacker's objective, personality, and nature. Then decide on an approach and countermeasures.
My aunt would probably scold me to memorize English vocabulary instead of gathering this info. Just kidding.
The attacker had keys, but didn't seem thorough enough to have investigated every student beforehand. There was no observable reaction to Mayu and I being absent. He looked down on Sugita carrying out the orders, gun in hand, seeming somehow satisfied. This was convenient, yet it was also an opening that cut off my path of retreat. The conditions were prepared; I had no choice but to take the first step.

I start climbing the ladder. Leading with my right arm, pulling my body up, "Ngh..."
My arm's danger is... dangerous. I don't know what I'm saying, but I understand what just made that sound. It performed a little piece that sounded like grinding teeth.
It's as if only the areas around my elbows were camouflaged with sand or mud—that's how low their durability feels. The sensation is distant. There's a sense of distance in my hands, like they aren't part of my body. It's not like they're rotten, but it seems it was too soon [to use them like this].
This was another reason for my hesitation. Right now, I harbored a simple weakness within me. Enough to make me regret not just obediently staying with Mayu in the nurse's office.
April was rough, after all. I really overworked the bone-breaking parts, and nearly half the constituent members ended up resigning.
Because of that, my output was limited to the point where I'd lose to Fushimi in a playful arm-wrestling match. No, if I'd pushed myself, I *could* have grasped victory, you know, but before that, see, I was holding Yuzuyuzu's soft hand, so it was first-come, first-served... plus, wanting to get veins popping is just childish. My excuses are fully prepared. That's a lie, y'know.

"Mii-kun, where are you going? Are we playing Santa?"
Mayu grabs my ankle and starts pulling hard. Imagining how this would spell the end in a double sense if I fell onto Mayu now, I somehow manage to hold on with my pseudo-arms.
"Nah, ninja game. You come too, Maa-chan."
"Ehh, Maa-chan's a little sleepy..." A genuine yawn, far removed from acting. *If I could, I'd just let her sleep here, but leaving her alone is probably bad, huh? If the attacker found her, she might just never wake up again.*
"Just come on. You don't want your bento to spoil, right?" "Mmph." For now, she lets go of my ankle.
Seeing that, I resumed my upward movement.

Spreading both legs outward, I somehow make it to the top in an ungainly frog-like posture. Reaching the actual gym ceiling would require climbing even higher, but I'd reached sufficient height to pass over the stage.
Then Mayu also grabbed the ladder and reluctantly followed me.
*Hmm, is it okay for her to follow?*
If Maa-chan, whose sense of balance is utter garbage, tries to cross these decidedly not-thick steel beams... Well, it's not like there's an electric current running through them, and maybe crawling on all fours will just be tiring for her.
While sending a lukewarm mental cheer—'*Faito! Ippatsu!* '—I wait for Mayu to finish climbing. Mayu used her limbs more skillfully than me and climbed up beside me quite easily.
Then, she pulled my ear towards her mouth.
"Mii-kun, you like high places, don't you?"
"Heheh, 'cause I'm smoke." *Definitely not implying the other half of that saying applies.* Smells like BS.

Actually, I've never judged heights based on like or dislike.
The one with acrophobia was my little sister. When we rode the mountain ropeway, she unusually looked like she was about to cry, I think. Naturally, my back got punched out of frustration.
"Thaaat's what's sooo cuuute about you~" Mayu says, hugging my head, shaking it, and petting me.
I felt a pang of sympathy for my classmates, thinking they probably wouldn't want a rescue mission entrusted to these two. Also, tucking my chin, the mat visible below looked like Koya-dofu, and I imagined if I jumped, my body would plunge right through to the floor.

I resume moving. This time horizontally, not vertically. Favorable conditions for me, a difficult spot for Mayu. Placing my palms on the steel beam, a firm coolness transmitted through. It was pleasant, lacking the intrusive dampness reminiscent of rainy season lethargy. But, if kept in the same spot, it grows murky. Rots. That change is unbearable for me. Not due to some unique aesthetic sense... though.
So, I start moving forward carefully on all fours. I ignore the happy comment from behind—"Mii-kun's a cat!"—and advance. It's been since elementary school that I looked down on the assembly platform like this. I wanted to climb up once, so I did. It wasn't that I wanted to jump off. ...I felt a little dizzy.
Incidentally, down below, the attacker's speech had finished, and only the sound of footsteps moving sideways at regular intervals could be heard. Proof that not everyone had been incapacitated yet. If possible, I wanted to finish moving before he was done.
But still, the male student being forced to help gets to grab girls' limbs without being yelled at... probably doesn't see it as a perk, huh? A difficult case, this one. Just kidding, I said.

After getting about halfway across, I glanced back slightly.
Mayu was hugging the steel beam, moving like an earthworm or an inchworm. And surprisingly fast. And it looked... endearing? Hmm, since it's Maa-chan, I'll allow it. *"A slender path, yet one that is by no means futile. And I cannot withhold glory and praise from one who advances along this arduous course, driven not by appearances, but by indomitable spirit."* Something like that. The power of 'baka-couple' correction is terrifying.
But still, it's somehow pleasing that she's following naturally without instructions.
When our eyes met, Mayu detached one arm from the beam she was gripping tightly and waved it vigorously. With a smile like a daughter spotting her family in the stands at an elementary school sports day. Thinking she'd probably sulk later if I ignored her, I waved back. Is this really okay?
Well, if I try to handle things seriously, it just comes off as creepy, so I'll strive to maintain the status quo.
.........But still, what's with my insides rampaging like this? It's like parasites.
As if I'd absorbed iron through my palms, a bitterness spreads near my back teeth.

I extract the components of whatever slipped down my throat and circulated through my internal organs, examining them on my tongue.
....A trace amount of nostalgia detected. ......Hm, maybe about my brother.
My older brother also aimed for the ceiling like this in elementary school, and then jumped to his death. At the time, no one except one person could understand the reason, and it was interpreted as something sudden.
But, within my family, I wonder who was saddest about my brother's death. The man who took my brother *away* remained expressionless from start to finish, I'm... well, *me*, and my little sister was even more *all over the place*.
Maybe my little sister's mother? Though she didn't attend the funeral.
She was quite emotional, after all.
Once, at a festival ring toss, I won a spotted seal plushie. Thus my hairstyle changed to resemble an eggplant. Lies aside, I presented it to my little sister, who had come with me. My little sister's face turned bright red (actually, it was night so I couldn't see well, maybe I'm making that up) as she accepted it while punching my back. Then, after we got home, Amano Iruka-san asked her, "Did you win a prize?" My little sister was honest with her mother, so she shook her head. After that, when asked, "Did you buy it for your brother?", she started flailing about, kicked me away, and then tore the plushie's stomach open right there. Then, my little sister got slapped by her mother.
I think she was serious. Without considering that the opponent was her daughter, a girl, her face was twisted with rage. It was a blow that made me wonder if my idiot old man was cross-dressing.
Then she said, 'That's enough,' pushed her daughter away, and retreated into the back room. However, she did retrieve the plushie. And later, she sewed up its abdomen and displayed it in her room. Maybe she simply liked the plushie, and was just angry that her daughter ruined it.
That night, my sobbing little sister beat me up mercilessly on the futon.
In the end, I slept together with my little sister, who had cried herself out. That was the only day we ever did that.
End of digression. Right, this was about my brother.
With the recent 'Resurrection Fair' going on, I pray there isn't some plot twist waiting where 'Actually, that attacker was my brother!' Because my brother turned into a bright red tomato, burned up, and became a skeleton. If he's come back fleshed out to this world, I'd have no choice but to say, "Please pass on."
Fantasizing about saying such things to my actual brother (corpse)... I almost slipped and fell on my right side, so I took my brain offline. ...Ah, but, I'll process just the last thing I thought of.
Maybe the one truly saddened most by my brother's death was my little sister. Because, after all, it meant she couldn't live with her mother anymore.

Mmm.
The element 'brother's death', resulting from his suicide, indirectly stole my little sister's place to belong.
A person's death... the result is simple, but the aftereffects are complex.
The fact of throwing a stone into a pond is simple, but the resulting ripples are hard to grasp. They seem to spread evenly, but they also get blocked by other obstacles. Mayu is a good example. Timing it for when she might ask for agreement like "Right?", I look back. Mayu's gaze is fixed solely on me, our eyes always meeting no matter what. Right now, she was mimicking a cat's meow, "Nyah nyah," trying to communicate with me. After slight hesitation, I replied, "...Nyah." I felt a slight urge to jump off.

Passing over the piano, eventually, I reach the end, a dead end.
Reaching the position on the other shore... no, the *opposite side*.
There's something like a ladder on the right side too. No need to use the piano as a step stool to get down. However, it wasn't something originally installed, just a stepladder the drama club used to move stage props during the school festival, left abandoned.
At that time, Fushimi and I were also roped into backstage duty, responsible for playing sound effects like *ching* and *jara-jara*. Now, the attacker is sterilizing the place by boiling it with sounds like *BLAM* and *SQUISH-SPLAT*.
Me and the attacker. About ten meters apart in a straight line, separated by a wall, opponents in an unwanted matchup.
Well, who's playing the leading role here now, I wonder.

Trying to act cool like that, I place my foot on the stepladder. The moment this stepladder's leg slips and creates dissonance, my plan collapses. To be stamped with the seal of impossibility before even starting—typical of thoughtless me.
But to think about consequences, you have to face forward. Impossible for me.
Now and in the past, and from now on... I don't think about it, so let's call it an unknown variable.
Placing the ball of my bare foot on the stepladder rung, I slowly descend. The ground waiting five steps below feels far away. Jumping down would be instant, but my soul soaring far above would also become imminent. It's still too early to let my life freefall. Besides, this perpetrator seems likely to give me plenty of time for regrets.

"Hey, tie it tight! If you can't even do that, you'll lose sight of not just tonight's dinner, but tomorrow's sunrise too! ..."
Maybe because the distance had closed, the attacker's lecture drifted into my ears a little. Pausing my body for a brief moment to catch my breath, I continue the descent.
Making use of my weak arms, wiping away the sweat, I temporarily bring this athletic endeavor to a close. Having climbed all the way down, I wiggle the toes of my feet now on the floor, projecting a sense of mental liberation. And then, I looked up.

To walk without hunching my back, resisting the feeling of entrapment... *Hmm, not needed right now. You, stay hidden as a lie. Then, after maturing for about eight years, be eaten by me. You've had a narrow escape for now.*
"Carefully, slowly, come down," I advise Mayu above me in a whisper, cupping my hand beside my mouth. "Okay, okaaay!" *I wish that cheerful, distant voice would shrink down to the size of my own anxious heart.* ...Phew, almost lost my composure. With that light reply that seemed ready to float up to the ceiling, hoisting up my anxiety along with it, Mayu also placed her foot on the stepladder. Her bare legs stretched out slenderly, dazzling for me at the tail end of puberty—not really. I'm used to seeing them.

Descending smoothly, Mayu came down without any strain or particular care. Her right foot slipped on the third step, and though I prepared a stance to catch her, I almost pulled back, wondering if I should just let the sound of her fall substitute for the future developments I'd envisioned. Still just kidding, as long as I'm Mii-kun.
*Shu-tat!* With an elegant landing sound, the gym-suited angel descends. I questioned her lightly.
"...Maa-chan, what does 'carefully' mean?"
"Timidly, nervously!" Accompanied by an imitation of a newborn fawn. Something's off.
"And 'slowly'?"
"Sluggishly, goopily!" She traces a slug's path with her right foot. The expression is right, but the latter half of the sound effect is questionable. One wrong step and she could crush a frog.
...... *Looks like there's no reaction from the other side far away.*
*Oh, whatever.* I was led to a state of acceptance. Without putting a hand to my forehead, nor letting out a sigh. I pretended to be moved, thinking I'd contributed to preventing global warming by suppressing CO2 emissions. That was a lie.

In the position where the mats were in the left stage wing, on the right side, there's a broadcasting room, about three tatami mats in size, enclosed by glass panels. I enter it carefully, trying not to let any noise follow me. The front is constructed like a one-way mirror, allowing only those inside to see out into the gym. That the setup for playing music and monitoring the MC's progress would prove advantageous here... Did the course of events anticipate an attack? ...I try overthinking it, shonen manga style. Impossible, though.
With Mayu's chin resting on my shoulder, I observed the scene spread out below through the glass.

The tour of the attacker and Sugita, being used as a tool, was past its midpoint.
Sugita occasionally moved his mouth, tears streaming continuously down his face. Whether forced or roped in as a collaborator, perhaps his lips were occupied with guilt and apologies towards his classmates? It seemed theatrical, or rather, crying that openly even as an act looks quite difficult. Even though he hasn't even been shot himself, is he doubling this as drama club practice? If so, he's too much of a big shot.
On the other hand, the fact that the attacker is surprisingly not interrupting, just watching quietly, adds to the mystery.
Alternatively, well, in cases like this, there's also the possibility of begging for his life.
Overwhelmed by the light death waiting behind him, having to handle harm with his own hands... My hands moved automatically to my stomach and mouth.
"Mii-kun? Are you hungry?" Mayu shakes my shoulder expectantly.
"Yeah, well..." *Just recalling things about someone important to you made the sea of my stomach acid turn stormy.*

While waiting for the work to finish, I look through the viewing window at acquaintances for a change of pace. Thanks to changing position, I could now survey the back half of the lines too, so this also served as a test for that.
First off, Nagase. I deliberately inflate my suspicion about why my eyes went to her. Nagase had stopped shaking her head and was looking down. Her bangs covered her eyes, and the angle was tricky, so her expression was unreadable. But it seemed she had already noticed that Mayu and I weren't there.
Inazawa... no need for special mention, maybe. He's such a refreshing guy, you could probably force-grow peppermint leaves by mixing his flowing sweat with dirt, but behind the scenes, he's undoubtedly fantasizing, "It'd be convenient if that senseless spirit-like *thing* always standing next to Misono-san got gunned down in an unforeseen accident." It's a given that academically gifted high school students are generally black-hearted. Incidentally, my blackness is apparently visible right from the surface. Therefore, my black-heartedness is established even without academic excellence. A truly hollow proof.
Now, speaking of my few friends... Oh, the small animal, I mean Fushimi, is also quietly tied up. ...Come to think of it, I feel like I still owe her one more promised rescue. I wonder if she remembers.
If she's expecting it this time too, I'd like to attempt a wry smile. The field I can resolve things in and the danger this time are different in nature. I need to prepare now to equivocate if she presses me about breaking the promise. Just kidding. It's because I can't do that, that my ability to instantly spout nonsense has improved. Should I be grateful to someone for that, or shift the blame onto my parents' distorted educational policy?

"Looks like it's over." "What is?" Mayu's chin kneads left and right, playing with my shoulder.
All students had been restrained, their movement completely restricted. Since Sugita, who carried it out, was uninjured, and the attacker was applying silent pressure from behind, the tightness of the knots was probably guaranteed. Even if they rose up all at once now, they'd just be swiftly crushed.
Sugita, the last one, was tied hand and foot by the attacker himself, rolled over, and forced to grovel. Then, he went back to the position in the front row where he had first been rolling around.
Surveying the students from a position a few steps away from the group, the attacker nods ("un un") in satisfaction at their helplessness. Then, letting a refreshing pleasure flood his face, he returned to the front row and patted the head of Sugita (though I feel bad after calling him that so much, was he really Sugita?) with the sole of his shoe, praising his work. *Looks like mud's gonna get tangled in his hair,* was the only thought held by someone standing by in a safe zone outside of awareness.

Kicking the spent casings rolling at his feet across the basketball court, the attacker takes out a loudspeaker he seems to have prepared beforehand from his bag. While raising the objection that if he planned to start a recital or demo, he should do it in an empty lot, I watch the situation quietly.
After a cliché "Ah, ah, ah" sound test, the attacker beams a gentle smile cultivated through shadiness at the group. His behavior resembles someone's father in his youth, and now, young me feels... this isn't good.

"Ah, you. You'll do." The attacker addresses a female student from my class, casually aiming the rifle with one hand, the opposite of the one holding the loudspeaker. From her perspective, the order of actions might be reversed, but here I deliberately tried to consider the feelings of the tearful young woman.
"Are you worried about that teacher?"
Briefly averting his gaze sideways, he asks about her concern for the teacher lying on the borderline between unconsciousness and death. The girl, "Eh, ah, hi," confused by the question's intent, asks for time and further explanation in a cracked voice. But perhaps irritated by this helpless girl he couldn't get through to, the attacker aimed the muzzle—and maybe the girl recalled the process by which the teacher had been shot again—because she frantically forced words from her throat.
"Ye-Yesh, I'm worried," the high school girl pretends to be a good child, regardless of her true feelings.

"I see. Well then, if you, as an obedient good girl, get shot in your dominant arm and suffer along with the blood, I'll help the teacher. What will you do? Are you willing to be shot?"
Forcing an unreasonable choice, the attacker leans in, intending to enjoy her reaction to the fullest. It's a composition that would make one want to recoil instinctively, but the environment wasn't set up to allow the girl such an action. The other girls sitting behind her are probably praying inwardly, 'Don't come back here.'
"N-No, Noyesh," her tongue, not quite working, desperately refuses.
In my classmate's figure, I detect humanity. An affirmation is born that this is okay. As an individual's answer. But, there's an opponent here.

"Oh, really?" Placing the loudspeaker on the floor, as this was pre-established harmony for the attacker, the trigger of the re-aimed rifle was naturally pulled with both hands. Converging roar and noise into one. As declared, he shot the girl's arm.
Before her stunned subjectivity could react, the objectively observing surroundings were the first to boil over in a bad way. But just as the buds of that clamor were about to bloom into poisonous flowers and begin their short lives, the attacker succeeded in plucking them with a shout—"Shut up!"—and another shot. Although, for the female student whose *other* arm had now also been pierced by the lump of metal, she likely had no leeway to read the mood as things quieted down.
Slightly delayed compared to the surroundings, unable to swing her arms or press the wound, the girl starts rolling around like a daruma doll, emitting screams bordering on ultrasonic. The attacker looking down on her, without pity or guilt, coolly spat out only a warning.
"See, things like 'I won't shoot if you refuse' weren't included in the contract terms. 'I didn't hear about that' isn't likely to fly, student. Mind you, just because you heard doesn't mean you'd answer properly. Hah! Either way, you got shot, didn't you?"
The attacker adds a forced smile to the conclusion reached by his own childish words and actions.

Thinking a young child (deliberately ignoring the 'where?' part) shouldn't see such a scene, I jokingly went to cover Mayu's eyes with my hand, but she wasn't paying attention to any of that in the first place, instead looking troubled as she counted requests on her fingers, "Ummm, that makes forty-seven."
*Saves me the trouble, nice,* I thought, while also feeling depressed that maybe I was just procrastinating.