The sun room was full of people, but Kazuo ignored them. He made a slow, silent circle around the perimeter of the room before flopping down in a couch. He averted his gaze enough that he was looking at the ceiling. What was the point of all this, anyway? Who were all these people? They had to be other patients at the hospital, but why so many? And certainly not all of them came from the Battle Royale game, because...well, there was only one survivor and that was him. But clearly these people weren't all Japanese, so...

I'm here because I was in that accident and got shot. I won the game. That's all that matters. Idly, his hand pressed against his left temple and then traced down to his throat, to reassure himself that the collar was really gone. He missed his weapons, but didn't miss the collar much.