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Given a selection of swim wear to choose from, the three of them were directed to separate rooms to change outfits.
Kazumi dug through an array of clothing, from bikinis to wetsuits. Despite the speech the man had given them, or perhaps because of it, she didn't trust the people the beach was home to.
They had taken their cards, one of Arisu's and one of hers happened to be ones not yet in the Beach's possession, which seemed to delight the flamboyant man. All weapons had also been removed from their persons, including Kazumi's pocket knife.
Airing on the side of caution she found the most practical outfit she could come up with of the clothes she was given, a modest, black bikini with a high rise top and almost short like bottoms which she covered with a long, slitted skirt. She traded her scuffed and worn shoes for a pair of new, sturdy looking boots.
Peeking out of the room she was given she discovered that she had been left to her own devices. Deciding to take this opportunity to get a lay of her new environment she began to wander the building.
In the long, fluorescent lit hallways of the Beach the world felt almost normal. No horrible games, no constant death, no desperately clinging to life.
Kazumi wandered the halls with no clear destination in mind. Eventually her feet led her down a set of stairs to a hallway which looked far less lived in than the rest of the building. The lights were dimmer, the wallpaper gave way to concrete walls, and the only footsteps she heard were her own.
Rounding a corner she was greeted with the sight of a single door at the end of the hall. Frowning in curiosity, she took one step towards the door before it suddenly flung open.
Ducking behind the corner she just passed Kazumi peeked out to watch as a lanky man in all black pushed out of the room. An assault rifle rested against his shoulder.
As the door behind him swung closed, Kazumi glimpsed a plain room of similar weaponry laid out on metal racks. It seemed as though the Beach had transformed a storage space into an armory of sorts.
The man who emerged from said armory leaned against the door, acting as a guard to the dangerous room behind him.
From her hiding spot around the corner Kazumi watched as he idly picked at his nails with a bored expression on his face. A gut feeling told her to not trust this man, and the decision to give him a gun was a very bad one.
Intensely focused on the scene in front of her, she jolted harshly at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. Whipping around she was met with a familiar light haired figure.
