Keita woke before his alarm for the first time in months.
He lay still and stared at the wooden ceiling. There was no pleasant dream this time, no fresh air, no music. His stomach felt tight. Twice in two days, Levi had said. Two losses to the same girl. He didn't plan on a third.
Downstairs, Brea was already at the table, kicking her legs under her chair.
"Are you going to win?" she asked.
"I always win."
"That's not what Levi said."
Keita almost smiled. He grabbed his packed lunch and kissed his mother's cheek. For a moment, Brea's grin reminded him of something, and he shook it off and headed out.
Crimson High had never been so loud.
Banners hung across the hall. Students packed every corner, trading bets and predictions. Near the game club room, a long registration table stood under a sign that read SELECTION ROUND: TEAMS AND SOLOS WELCOME.
Levi and Kyle were already waiting.
"You look terrible," Levi said.
"Thanks, V.I.P."
Kyle laughed a little too loudly. He kept wiping his palms on his jeans. "I'm fine," he said, before anyone asked. "Totally fine."
Keita and Levi exchanged a look but said nothing.
Bloom stood in line beside Claire, her heart racing.
"Nervous?" Claire asked.
"No." Bloom swallowed. "Maybe a little."
Crimson City, the real one, bustled outside the windows. Somewhere in that map were streets she hadn't walked yet, corners she didn't know, shortcuts every other player had learned by heart.
"Stick with me," Claire said, as if reading her mind. "I'll tell you where everything is."
"Thank you."
"Besides," Claire added, smiling, "you're the one who beat the Conquests."
The line crept forward. Bloom signed her name on the sheet and passed the pen back. Behind her, a girl waited quietly, a small first-aid pouch clipped to her bag. She had a calm, watchful face, and she kept her eyes on the floor.
Bloom noticed her only because the girl took such care to not be noticed. She dismissed the thought and moved on.
Mr. Wells stepped onto a chair and raised his hands. The hall fell quiet.
"Welcome to the selection round. Forty players, one city, and one circle. The five highest scorers will represent Crimson at the Blood Games."
Applause. Cheers. Somebody whistled.
"Each of you plays for yourself, even if you entered with a team. Teammates may help each other, but only your own score counts."
Keita looked across the hall. Bloom was already looking back.
"Good luck," Mr. Wells said. "You'll need it."
Then the bell rang, and the doors to the game club opened.