We are out in a field next to a large concrete structure. R. is piloting a large military helicopter and suddenly starts flying towards the structure, as if chasing us. We run towards the wall. The helicopter smashes into an outcropping above us. We cower, afraid that the rotors will come flying towards us. They don't, and in the collision, the crew compartment of the helicopter is separated from the main body and falls to the ground, R. remaining unharmed. Later we discover that, in fact, R. was attempting suicide. R. hands out the obituary R. has prepared--it is a stack of papers, stapled. I look through them--they seem a little egotistical, I think. Then, of course, they are supposed to be a celebration of R.'s life, after all.
The team is meeting. As I stand up to give my daily report, I realize there is someone else talking, and I walk down the table to confront her. She seems unconcerned, I say something extremely harsh to her and tell the group that we might as well find another room to have our meeting. We all walk out. Later the team is actually the Japanese Mafia, and by confronting the person talking at our meeting I have brought terrible dishonor to our team. I sneak back into the house to collect the papers necessary to continue my work. One of my co-workers catches me, he is guarding the house and says he has been given orders to kill me on sight. But he likes me and wants to help me, so he lets me go. I thank him and start to leave. But he wants to keep telling me about how is going to let to me go. I stay for a moment to be polite, but then I run off. I am on the grounds of my high school now, clutching the papers. I run into some generic woman I know from high school. She clutches a dagger. I think she will attack me, and she slashes at my hand as I try to grab the blade. But then she plunges the knife into her chest, gives me a sly look, and then screams. They've set me up. I panic, and run away along the sidewalk with long, bounding strides.
