I've been roamin' around, always lookin′ down at all I see
Painted faces fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody

I groped blindly for the screwdriver next to me, my concentration completely focused on the inner workings of the small black device in my hands. When I got hold of it, I carefully removed the plastic cover.

I had taken the radio device from a neglected police station a few days ago. When I had switched it on, however, it had only made one last pitiful crackling sound before dying out completely. Nevertheless, I had decided to take it with me, along with its working counterpart, in the hope of being able to repair it.

I carefully took a look inside, inspecting the numerous tangled wires and checking the contacts in turn for voltage. It wasn't long before I heard an encouraging sound: a small spark jumped across, connecting the two wires.

For a brief moment, a kind of hissing sound came from the handset, but it was short-lived. I looked skeptically at the contacts, some of which were already corroded. I sighed softly and reached for the bottle of contact spray next to me, hoping that the tiny amount left in the bottle was still sufficient for my project.

Once I had managed to get the device working again, I noticed that the counterpart was no longer intact either. After opening it, I quickly realized that it was just as damaged as the other one. I shook the bottle of spray, but it was completely empty, which meant I would have to start looking for a refill as soon as possible.

Sighing, I put the things to one side. The soldering iron I had put aside earlier would not be of any use today. A little annoyed by the situation, I got up and decided to take a quick trip to the roof to get my daily dose of vitamin D.

Before I went up there, however, I went to the bathroom. There I reached for the razor on the edge of the sink and removed the annoying stubble from my face before carefully applying some aftershave with UV protection to my irritated skin.

Slowly and with deliberate steps, I stepped out of the elevator, a fresh salty breeze in the air. I squinted a little and raised my hand protectively to shield myself from the bright sun, which was beating down on me hot and mercilessly.

Once I had become somewhat accustomed to the brightness, I lowered my hand and noticed that someone else had apparently found their way here.

A figure was sitting on the low wall at the edge of the roof, her back turned towards me. The wind played gently with her long, dark curls, which shimmered almost reddish in the sunlight. Although I couldn't see her face, there was no doubt that it was her - the young woman who seemed to be following me around all the time lately.

Completely oblivious, she looked down at the city stretching out before her eyes and seemed so absorbed, as if she was in her own little world. She didn't notice me, so I took advantage of the situation to observe her impartially for a moment.

Next to her on the wall was a drawing pad and a few loose pens, as well as a crumpled ball of paper that was already swaying slightly in the wind.

Just as I decided to make myself heard, a strong gust of wind came up, its piercing howl blowing loudly around the rooftops.

The wind tore at my hair and jacket, while the paper ball rolled towards me as if guided by an invisible hand and finally stopped right at my feet. I looked at it for a moment. Then I bent down to reach for it, but a panicked voice made me stop abruptly.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!""

I looked up briefly at Izumi, who was now staring at me with wide eyes, before she suddenly lost her balance and toppled backwards off the wall. I snorted in amusement as she cursed quietly to herself and grabbed the paper ball unflinchingly as she tried to pick herself up quickly.

"Hands off," she growled and pulled herself nimbly back to her feet. Her eyes sparkled with anger and her gaze hit me like an arrow as she came towards me.

Her fierce reaction made me honestly curious. I hastily unfolded the sheet before Izumi got the chance to snatch it from me again. I had barely caught a glimpse of it before I saw her hand trying to grab it. But luckily I was quicker and held it high above my head, where I could look at the contents in peace.

It was a drawing.

A portrait, to be precise.

A portrait of myself.

Even though it was just a pencil drawing, I recognized my own unabashed smile and striking facial features, drawn with astonishing precision and dedication. Especially my eyes were depicted with such detailed depth that a small shiver went through my body for a moment.

But I hardly had time to wonder about it, as I had to nimbly avoid her hand. Meanwhile, she was laboriously trying to jump up to reach it.

"Give it back now!" she hissed and stretched up a little further, standing on her tiptoes. But it was too late anyway. A triumphant smile stole onto my lips.

"It looks like garbage, so surely I can keep it," I teased her and hurriedly hid the sheet behind my back. Her face had turned bright red and her cheeks puffed out in anger.

"Give it to me, you idiot," she hissed indignantly, but seemed to have finally given up trying to take the paper from me. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she narrowed her eyes menacingly. I cast another amused glance at the drawing.

"You've hit me well. Who knew you had such a talent?"

If at all possible, her face turned even redder. This time, however, she looked ashamed instead of angry.

"That's not what it looks like."

"So what does it look like?" I asked with a cocky grin on my lips.

"I didn't... it's just scribbles," she tried to talk her way out of it, but barely managed to look me in the eye while her cheeks were still glowing like signal lights.

Oh well, a very revealing reaction.

"If it's just scribbles, why are you blushing so much?"

"Just give it back to me," her lips had curled into an exaggerated pout by now and she tried to reach out again to snatch the paper from my fingers. For some reason, I found her behavior very entertaining.

"Not until you tell me why you're drawing me."

"That's none of your business."

Her face had developed a few ugly red spots from all the excitement.

"But you've put a lot of effort into it. Not everyone could draw such a detailed picture of a person they've only seen a few times before. I mean, if you had asked me, I would certainly have posed for you," I continued to tease, enjoying the increasingly defiant look on her face.

"You're just one of many subjects. Don't get any ideas," she grumbled.

I let out a mock sigh.

"How disappointing. I was beginning to think I was something like your muse."

She gritted her teeth in annoyance and pushed her lips a little further forward, while I stuffed the paper into my jacket pocket in front of her disbelieving eyes with a confident smile and walked past her without a word.

Tense at her reaction, I walked towards the low wall that lined the roof and stopped briefly in front of her to gaze into the distance and pause. The wind was still blowing relentlessly through my hair, but it didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

As expected, it wasn't long before I heard her soft, hesitant footsteps behind me.

"You still have something that belongs to me," she complained and reappeared next to me shortly afterwards. The blush on her cheeks had faded a little, but she was still pulling an offended face, which I struggled to stifle a laugh at.

"Well, it was lying crumpled up on the floor. So I assumed you didn't want it anymore," I said guilelessly.

"Wrong."

"What are you going to do with it when I give it back to you? Hang it up in a frame in your room?"

"I-...no. Definitely not."

"Mmh..." I put my head to one side thoughtfully, "that would be pretty creepy too. Like you're an obsessive stalker."

"Well, listen," her cheeks puffed out again, "you're the one who's obviously stalking me at every turn. First last night, then this morning on Kuina's balcony and now even up to the roof."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and let my gaze wander over to her for a moment.

"I don't see why I should follow someone like you," I replied calmly and then turned my attention back to the view.

She took an audible deep breath.

"Someone like m-...you pompous big shot. And stop grinning so stupidly," she huffed as my features momentarily slipped away.

I involuntarily snorted. The sight of her indignant expression was just too funny and tempted me to provoke her a little more.

But then my eyes fell on her neck, where the bandage I had noticed on her this morning was still attached. It had slipped a little, so I could clearly see the marks that were visible underneath.

It appeared that she had suffered second or third degree burns. The top layer of skin was already starting to peel off a little. The healing process had already begun. Unthinkable in the real world, but here in Borderland, time passed at almost twice the speed.

My gaze automatically wandered a little further down to the chain with the golden pendant that adorned her collarbone. It was a heart, but not the kind of symbolic heart you would give your girlfriend as a romantic Valentine's Day gift. It was an anatomical heart, or rather, a replica of one.

When she noticed my gaze, her hand hurriedly clasped the pendant as if to protect it from me.

"An unusual piece of jewelry," I commented, this time a little less condescendingly.

"Why should you care?" she murmured quietly. Her voice now sounded unusually vulnerable. It was easy to tell that she didn't want to talk about it. I had obviously broached a sensitive subject.

When our eyes crossed, I knew that I had better not ask any more questions. Nevertheless, she had also aroused my curiosity with her strong reaction.

What secrets was she hiding?

"I don't. It was just an observation."

A brief silence fell over us. But it was a pleasant kind of silence, in which we each pursued our own thoughts. I let my gaze drift over the city skyline again, enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays on my skin, while Izumi stood beside me, somewhat perplexed, playing with her hair.

I briefly felt her almost shy gaze on me, similar to the one she had given me this morning. They showed interest on the one hand, but also skepticism on the other.

"The pendant has a personal meaning for me, okay?" she suddenly revealed unexpectedly, but sounded as if the subject was over for her with this statement. She quickly pressed her lips together as if she had to stop herself from telling me more.

"I see. I don't want to know either. I'm not interested," I replied as indifferently as I could, even though it was actually a lie.

"Of course you don't. Neither does the fate of all the people here, otherwise you would have reported to Ann in the infirmary long ago."

I groaned heavily.

"If it's so important to you, why don't you report yourself to support Ann?"

She frowned irritably.

"Because I'm not a doctor."

"I'm not either," I replied truthfully.

"But you... you treated my wound. Ann says that only someone with medical knowledge could have done that."

She looked at me expectantly, but I didn't answer. Instead, I pulled the crumpled sheet out of my pocket and held it in front of her face without looking at her.

"Here. This is yours. The next time you draw me, I'd at least like a reasonable fee."

In one swift movement, she snatched the sheet out of my hand.

"There won't be a next time," she huffed and crumpled it up again with such vigorous fervor, as if the paper had done her a personal injustice.

Then she reached for the drawing pad, stowed the pencils in her pencil case and turned away from me. I watched after her, somewhat astonished, as she strutted off towards the elevator with her head held high.

"Oh, by the way," I called after her before she got there. She paused for a moment and turned to me questioningly. Only then did I continue: "I recommend ointment tulle for burns of this degree. Ask Ann about it. I'm sure she'll have some in stock."

Izumi gave me a long, suspicious look, but nodded hesitantly after a while.

"Thanks," she mumbled, turned around and disappeared.

After leaving the roof and the hotel behind me, I made my way to an abandoned electronics store, where I actually managed to get hold of two bottles of contact spray and a few other useful bits and pieces that I might need at some point.

As I wandered through the store, my thoughts involuntarily returned to my conversation with Izumi. The fact that she had secretly painted my portrait kept bothering me for quite a while.

Was it just artistic inspiration or was there more to it?

Her awkward reaction on discovering her drawing suggested there was more to it than she was letting on. The longer I thought about it, the more convinced I was that her cheeks were flushed not only with anger but also embarrassment.

The fact that Izumi could have feelings for me seemed absurd at first, but the way she tried to play down the drawing spoke a completely different language.

Perhaps I was reading too much into her actions.

Nevertheless, a little curiosity sprouted inside me. I couldn't deny that I was strangely fascinated by the idea that Izumi might be in love with me. Because if that was really the case, it would be even easier to manipulate her than I had first assumed.

A self-satisfied smile was on my lips as I finally left the store behind me.

♢

Two more days.

Then I would have to make a decision.

Should I turn myself in and reveal that I was the traitor they was looking for or should I continue to hope that my secret would never come out?

It was a tricky situation.

Especially as Mira knew the truth. I was already naturally reluctant to trust anyone, but her - her I distrusted the most. This woman had something to hide from the Beach. In my opinion, she seemed to know more about our situation than she was letting on, which made her a dangerous person to be wary of. Her knowledge could end up breaking my neck.

Still, we seemed to have one thing in common: we both loved the adrenaline of a good game. But we also hated losing, which in turn meant that she would sacrifice everything to win. But I wasn't going to give in that easily. Assuming I would actually turn myself in, it would be tantamount to a bitter defeat. And defeat was worse than death.

On my way back to the suite, the air was suddenly filled with loud voices. One of them was all too familiar - it belonged to Niragi.

He was near the pools, his arms violently clutching a young woman in a yellow bikini, who he was holding tightly against the wall. I hesitated and stayed behind a corner so that I could keep a close eye on what was happening.

Behind Niragi, I recognized two other members of the military squad who were backing him up. Even from a distance, I could see the desperation in the woman's eyes as she struggled to resist Niragi's grip, adopting a clear defensive posture. But Niragi seemed unimpressed by all this. Instead, he grinned maliciously and ran his greedy hands impatiently over her body.

"Why are you being so coy, sweetie? I just want to touch you for a moment," I heard Niragi's sensationalist voice echo across the grounds.

I scanned my surrounding with my eyes. It was lunchtime, a time when there was hardly anyone around the pools because most people were either eating or still sleeping off their previous day's intoxication.

The few people who were there, however, were hardly bothered by the situation. Firstly, they were already used to Niragi stretching his claws out at every halfway good-looking female on the Beach, and secondly, the fear of being targeted by the military squad was far too big. Everyone knew that Niragi would not hesitate for a moment to use the weapon he always carried with him.

One person, however, had also become aware of what was happening. A young woman with thick dark curls was sitting at the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in the cool water.

She had a drawing pad on her lap and was clutching a pencil in her hand. Her gaze, however, was not on the drawing in front of her, but instead on the scene playing out right before her eyes. Her fingers clenched tightly around the pencil as she watched Niragi lewdly touch the woman in the yellow bikini. I could see her hand trembling with anger.

She wasn't really going to do that, was she?

But before I could even finish the thought, she energetically put her drawing utensils aside and jumped up from her seat. She pulled her yukata tightly together and strode towards the group at breakneck speed. I could only shake my head in disbelief as I watched her approach Niragi with angry steps.

What a foolish girl.

"Get off her, you smug bastard!" she snapped at him as her hand tightened on his arm to pull him away from her.