Completely disregarding the plane crash was easy when she had more pressing issues to think on.

For example: if this whole thing was a life and death situation did that mean she had a valid excuse to actually drink and eat something now? If the military or some park rangers saved them the last thing she wanted to do was cave and then have to go weigh in tomorrow anyway. Knowing her parents and coach, if they got rescued today, plane crashes were not valid reasons to not make weight.

Being that as it may, that meant she had more of an impetus to figure shit out ASAP.

Okay, let’s lay out the facts:

1) The plane was gone.

2) Her shit was gone.

3) Her and The Other Guy were miraculously magical girl transformed into new clothes. (She didn’t even consider the alternative; that would’ve definitely woken her up sooner.)

4) They were both handcuffed.

5) They were in the middle of the woods surrounded by ancient-looking tall pines in what looked to be an old, abandoned camping site.

6) Her teammates were gone which looped back into her shit was gone what a fucking waste of perfectly good electrolyte power she’d been looking forward to drinking that for, like, a week now–

Wait, let’s focus again.

Maybe this could’ve been a human trafficking scheme. Most things were nowadays, but she didn’t think any human traffickers would be this pressed about presentation or fooling their wares that this was anything but normal-ass human trafficking. If that were the case she’d probably just be in some crowded truck getting transported to hell or something.

Was this normal kidnapping? Nah, same as the human trafficking theory, it wasn’t likely to be this flashy. Like any normal girl, her countless hours visualizing what it’d be like to be the main character of a true crime documentary series told her that she’d be in the trunk of a car or the bottom of a basement if it was normal kidnapping.

Was this a drug-induced hallucination? A final few seconds of her brain short-circuiting and just making stuff up because of her lack of electrolytes? Maybe she was just dying. Damn that would make things a lot simpler.

But nah. Alize felt a little too lucid of her hunger pangs and aching limbs to be not completely lucid and aware of what was going on around her.

Then there was the craziest idea that her mind happily flitted to like it was the most rational conclusion given the circumstances: isekai.

Video game-like notification boxes just popped out of nowhere in front of both her and Jude. Alize had seen shit like that before. Knew them very well in fact. Plane crashes weren’t the weirdest way she’d seen people get thrown into similar situations in those countless online novels - there was always that one with the fake eiffel tower.

Lock in, idiot. You got isekai’d. Or you’re crazy. Either way you have a reason to snap now.

Anyway, okay, here was another reason she’d so readily jumped to the most outlandish outcome. Like any reader, Alize had found herself in the shoes of a frustrated viewer: watching as their main character bumbled around in their new world, the new story, deluding themselves into thinking it was just a harmless dream for double-digit chapters or getting confused as to why their actions and presence changed canon.

Fuck that, bucko.

Alize would’ve rather gutted herself than be as slow to convince as that. She’d been visualizing and fantasizing about getting isekai’d for years. Albeit into an easy living child-raising historical story ideally, but sure, if killing game was what she’d been given she’d just have to accept this too. Time to put up or shut up. This was life or fucking death.

Speaking of life or death, It didn’t take a genius to connect Dots A and B.

A) The Deadliest Game.

B) Be the last remaining party.

Boop! Those wiry little neurons connected. By jove, if jumping to conclusions was an Olympic sport Alize was set to win the 400m hurdles before going straight into long and high jump.

Clearly this was a party fight type deal. Probably a battle royale or something. Alize was very quickly adjusting to this new view of reality. The speed at which she’d thought of and accepted the possibility that she might kill someone today was fast enough that a little part of her was concerned by it. Just a little itty bitty part.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Obviously it would’ve been nice to grasp at straws and make nice, neat little excuses in her brain for another circumstance this might be. Maybe she was wrong! But in the meantime, she wasn’t about to let her guard down and wait for help or some shit. What she needed to do was get her hands on something sharp, swing-y, or shoot-y, find her teammates, and get allies.

Pacifism was an option - of that much she was sure - but of course it would never be that easy to simply befriend all others assigned the possible task of murder. Plus, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand a big party anyway. More people always lead to more drama, more conflict, and more problems.

If this was a game show it was a pretty sick one and quite frankly she was excited to sue whoever was behind it for emotional damage. If she maimed someone while thinking her life was on the line that was someone else’s problem. Maybe Jude’s parents offered discounts to teammates for their lawyer-y services.

Jude himself looked fine though. There was an odd, unspoken truce they found themselves in at the moment. The prickly, borderline noxic air that always sat between them was not present while they sat in silence for the moment, taking stock of the situation in their own quiet, internal processes.

Still, she was resentful for how okay he looked at the moment. His dark, dirt-colored hair was messy, yeah, but it didn’t look bad at all, almost seeming artfully tussled. The mud smudging his face seemed to contour his cheekbones, highlighting the smattering of faint freckles across his pale skin. Even the weird school outfit looked good on his lanky frame. Somehow the deep maroon plaid of his new coat and slacks didn’t look garish on him, but eventually she knew he’d probably have to take it off or something to avoid getting it snagged on the foliage around them or getting grabbed by whoever might try to jump them. Yeah. All in all, okay for a recent plane crash survivor.

In contrast, Alize didn't have to see herself to know that at the very least her hair looked like a nest made by a blind, disabled rat.

“Got a problem, Lize?”

While she thought on their situation, her eyes staring sightlessly into the air in front of him, he’d craned his neck to consider her, his cheek resting on his shoulder. Alize gritted her teeth and stood. She ignored the creaking of her joints, the popping of her knees, uncaring that the dark blue checkering of her own uniform skirts was stained now with soil. “Mmm, I think so.” She answered dryly, looking about. “Just not with you at the moment.”

He scoffed humorlessly, his head lolled back to look up at the bit of sky peeking out from the overhead canopy. “Well that’s a first,” Jude snipped.

Not wanting to waste energy on him this once, she stayed silent and let it slide. What was that saying about betting a better person? Taking the high road or whatever? Just this once, when there were bigger fish to fry, she bit her tongue.

The soft chck of both their handcuffs pulling tight was a reminder of the first order of business: regain control of their hands. She had other things to worry about than attitude. Luckily for him she’d be nice just this once because his hands were handcuffed in front of him, opposite to the way hers were sitting behind her back. She could use that.

“Do you know how to pick locks?” She asked conversationally, the same tone you’d use to make a bland observation about the weather. Alize took at few steps toward him. The mix of stones, soil, and dry twigs crunched underfoot. The closer she got, the more she saw him tense but he made no movement to stand, holding his ground even when he had to look up at her.

He clicked his tongue and scowled finally when she stopped right in front of him, the hem of her skirt brushing against his knees. “Picking locks sounds like the type of thing shady people know how to do. Do I look like the shady type?” The pointed tone of his voice held a very ‘are you stupid’ unspoken kind of quality behind it that she didn’t appreciate. Still, she didn’t want to insult him back and then ask for a favor right after - that didn’t sound right.

“Yes.” Her voice was blunt. Self-restraint only held for so long. “To me you do. Appearances are subjective though,” Alize slipped in that last part - a backpedal attempt to play nice. “And that wasn’t a no exactly to a yes or no kind of question.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and mulled over giving her a response. That much should’ve been an answer in of itself but she waited anyway.

“Maybe I do,” He said finally with a weirdly suspicious narrowing of his eyes. “But I don’t remember enough of the steps to actually get anywhere.” When she looked down she saw him picking at his nailbeds, fidgeting a little restlessly.

Alize chewed on the inside of her cheek, her teeth worried a bit on the soft fat before she pursed her lips and hummed, her shoulders slumping. “Well if you want to mess around with the cuffs and see if you miraculously remember anything from those lockpicking lawyer videos you watch all the time…” She looked at him meaningfully. “I happen to have a couple bobby pins in my hair. ‘S probably beneficial to both of us if we can use our hands for whatever we need to do next. You’d not just be doing me a favor.”

Her smile was close-lipped and pulled tight. Knowing. “Do you want to try?”

Jude’s mouth turned down at the corners just slightly. His calculating eyes met her gaze evenly despite being caught, a little amusement that she did not share shining behind them. “Guess there’s no harm in trying.” He said breezily, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees. “But you should ask me more politely. Be more nice. You’d owe me y’know?”

A cool breeze came to blow through his hair and the itchy, thick material of the skirt. A shiver rolled down her spine, impatience gnawing at her both from his dangling bait and them still being out and exposed in the clearing the campsite made. They didn’t have time for this.

“Tch.” The look she gave him was steely, a scowl pulling at the top of her lip to expose teeth. “That’s as polite as you’re gonna get.” His mouth opened again, probably to say something else that’d inevitably get on her nerves, but it quickly snapped shut again when steadily she moved to kneel in front of him, bowing her head a bit so he could more easily grab the pins. “Just take them and shut up.” Her words were forced out from between clenched teeth, peeved. “I am far from in the mood right now.” The small rocks and debris dug into her bony knees making her wince at the position.

When he didn’t move to grab them she waited. And when a couple more seconds passed she looked up through the top of her eyes, displeasure coloring her tone. “Any day now would be great.” What she saw was that Jude wasn’t sitting in the same position. He’d pressed back in his chair, his back touching and metal backrest, his hands now clasped at his chest. His legs that were just stretched out in front of him were now drawn to the supports of the seat, heels against the front two. In her peripheral vision, she saw his knees widen a little as if an invisible bubble surrounded her, forcing him to make space. Jude’s dark eyes, usually annoyingly half-lidded, were wider now - alert.

“What’s the holdup?” She groaned, exasperated.

It was like he’d been frozen in place. The start of a light pink tinge touched the tips of ears before spreading down his neck. A fever? Shock finally setting in? No fucking way he was getting sick already. They should’ve hurried up more. If they fell to exposure she’d never forgive herself.

She was halfway to yelling at him to snap out of it, but from behind her came the sound of snapping twigs moving to crunching gravel. In the back of her throat, her words shriveled and died. Heavy footfalls. A pair of them accompanied by something getting dragged in the dirt.

Her eyes squeezed shut. Maybe if she didn’t look at them that problem wouldn’t exist for a little longer?

A blinking notification popped up between her and Jude’s faces.

[Challengers Approaching!]