Chapter Three:
Disclaimer: I don't own Battle royale or any of the artists mentioned in this fic. (This is a cruel, cruel world!)
Warning: Implied Non-con sex in this chapter- it’s very mild though.
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(12:00)
"It's lunch time, I suppose you all must be getting pretty hungry- so take a break from the killing. Here's a list of your dead friends in the order they died; #21 Yamamoto, #04 Ogawa, #08 Kuramoto and #21 Yoshimi. Keep up the good work!"
Mimura scowled in the direction of Kitano's voice, wishing with vehemance that he could get near enough to shoot down the tannoy system. They'd been walking all night without any trace of another student, aside from random snatches of gunfire and the brief glimpse of a certain girl in denim shorts whom Kazuo had recognized as Mitsuko Souma- a solitary and spiteful loner. The deadly cast of her attractive features left none of them in any doubt that she had become a stalker of the less enthusiastic participants. However, as suddenly as she'd appeared Souma was gone, off to ensnare her next victim.
"Kazuo?"
*tug tug*
"Kaazuo, my feet ache..." Kiriyama shot an apologetic glance back to the boy holding tightly to his hand, "Ne, Taka. We'll take a rest soon." Takeshi wrinkled his nose, but nodded obediently.
Ahead Mimura and Kawada spared no words, both sets of eyes roaming over the undergrowth bordering the track. They couldn't afford another close shave this afternoon- not if they were all going to find their lost friends. Over the past few hours, as the sun made it's steady journey across the cyan sky everything had been spun with a cloying haze. Kiriyama paused to wipe his brow and raised his head, watching a band of clouds whispering overhead.
"Kazuo?"
"Hmm?" He replied disinterestedly, assuming this would be another of Takeshi's unending complaints or requests.
"I-i heard something....over there..." The diminutive boy pointed with an unsteady arm towards the dappled shade at their side.
Even now, Kawada and Mimura had turned back as the faint sounds increased in volume and intensity,
"...H-ello??....Kami-sama!?.....Is s-s-someone there??" Kawada sprinted back to them, pushing past roughly and entered the foliage without hesitation or fear.
A few moments later Shogo returned, and without a word he wrenched Kiriyama from Takeshi's grasp and dragged him into the bushes. When they emerged, beyond the line of trees Kazuo could still hear Takeshi's angry cursing, mirrored by Mimura's exasperated tone, but the sight before him drowned out everything.
The clearing was littered with leaves and a faint mist of noon sun-light broke the canopy of branches far above. In the centre of this peaceful scene, with it's moist, fragrant air lay another student. At first Kazuo couldn't tell who exactly was curled up on his side, the near absence of clothing and thin streaks of blood clotted on his paled skin were almost like a disguise.
Then with a pained slowness the boy moved, sitting up and pulling his knees flush to his bare chest. Without his thick-rimmed glasses Kazuo didn't recognize the former grade-A student. And from the confused expression marring Kawada's face neither did he.
"K-kiriyama?" The boy was staring at him now, from under a tangled mess of black strands and crimson blossoms, a purple mess of bruises on his cheekbones made conversation difficult. In a rush recognition clicked in and Kazuo's mouth fell open,
"Motobuchi-kun?!" He murmured in disbelief.
A faint smile cracked the boy's bloodied lips, "Last time I checked...."
"What h-happened?" Kazuo stammered, approaching Motobuchi carefully and knelt down at his side.
"..........." The other boy shook his head, shying away as Kazuo tried to check him for injuries. At the edge of the clearing Takeshi appeared in a ferocious rustling of leaves, followed closely by Mimura. Even the stoic computer whiz couldn't maintain his impassive facade as he spotted Motobuchi.
Motobuchi whimpered and shuffled across the muddy ground, reaching out to Kiriyama. Kazuo wrapped his arms around the brunette, glancing to each of his friends for support as Buchi sobbed, his eyes screwed shut. All they could do was wait, watch and guard until Motobuchi had cried himself out.
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"Are you okay to carry on uh...?"
Motobuchi adjusted his glasses, which had miraculously survived whatever transpired in that blood-stained clearing. He regarded Kawada with red-rimmed eyes and managed a small smile, "K-kyouichu, call mm-e Kyo please." Shogo turned away again with a grunt of acknowledgement and carried on along the track.
"Hey, what weapon've you got Kyo?" Takeshi enquired brightly, already rifling through the mud-caked back pack Kyo had brought with him once they'd found him some new clothes to wear and tended amateurishly to his wounds. Kiriyama didn't mention the light lacerations that criss-crossed the back of Kyo's thighs...or the unmistakeable scent that none of the others seemed aware of lingering on his skin.
Now, kitted out in one of Mimura's spare gym shirts and a pair of Jeans, about two sizes too big, Motobuchi almost seemed his old self. If you ignored the tremble in his voice and the visible shudders he seemed determined to control, every time one of them got too close.
"I didn't get a chance to look."
"Oooooooohhh!" Takeshi held the item aloft, admiring it, "A baseball bat, cool."
Kawada snorted with derision, "And that's going to help so much when we get shot." Behind him Mimura mimed several rude gestures, before muttering, "Go on, be optimistic Kawada-san."
Takeshi stuck out his tongue and handed the bat to Kyo, "Here, we're really well protected now ne?" His grin was enough to lighten even the stoniest mood. Motobuchi accepted the bat with shaking fingers, "So, uh...whu-what exactly were you doing when you found me?"
Kiriyama spoke up, just beating Kawada to the punch, "We're searching for Sugimura, Lijima and Seto-kun. Then we'll all look for a way off the island."
Kyo's eyes flashed and the corner of his lip twitched at the mention of Sugimura's name and tactless as usual Takeshi couldn't help but pursue it, "Eh.....Kyo-kun....Are you and Sugimura friends?"
The brunette pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose again, averting his gaze, "I tutored him for mathematics...we're g-good friends." Kawada raised his eyebrow, "Is he the one who's always gettin' pestered by those two girls??" kyo smiled again with a tinge of sadness, "Hai, they're his fanclub....."
"So you and him aren't-"
Kazuo poked Takeshi hard in the ribs, provoking a pissed off little squeak from his best-friend, "Baka! oooww!" Before Kazuo had time to answer the path dissolved and they were faced by a large, squat building. Kawada turned back and held up his hand, ordering them to halt while Mimura and him investigated.
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(1:10)
The building they'd happened upon was deserted. It's rusty shutters hung at distorted angles, swinging in the rhythmic beat of the sea breeze. There were two levels and so far neither had yielded anything of use despite Kawada's wary searching. As soon as they'd arrived Mimura retired to the higher tier, offering just the explanation that he was going to explore a way to at least disable the collars. Kazuo hadn't given much thought to the deadly device clamped round his neck, but now he had become distinctly aware of it, a itchy rash of discomfort spreading over his damp skin.
Takeshi still seemed in high-spirits though, despite how dire their situation was. He kept watch until Kawada returned and relieved him, taking up his perch on a crate by one of the boarded up windows. At the sight of the half-eaten loaf of bread Takeshi offered him, Motobuchi stumbled to his feet and ran outside.
"Was it something I said?" Taka grumbled, tucking into the dry bread again with a petulant pout.
Kazuo shuddered at the sounds that greeted him once he left the sanctuary of the warehouse. Kyo's breathless retching caught on the wind and reached his ears with all their harshness. The brunette was stooped beside the bonnet of a burnt out car, bent almost double as he vomited again violently. His fingers gripped the peeling surface hard enough to bleach each knuckle sickly white.
Kiriyama waited until he straightened up and drew a the back of his palm across his mouth, obviously disgusted by the acrid bitterness embedded in his throat.
"Kyo?"
The other boy spun round, his hand reaching for the bat lashed to his hip, he lowered it reluctantly.
"G-gomen, gomenasai Kazuo....I couldn't help it." Motobuchi's cheeks were overcome with rouge and he averted his eyes as Kazuo walked over. "You don't have to apologise....but will you tell me....what happened back there?" He laid a reassuring hand on Kyo's shoulder, vaguely wondering how he'd been lumbered with the duty of counsellor to everyone.
"........"
"I saw the cuts...did you do that?"
He almost jumped when a sudden peal of off-kilter laughter erupted from Motobuchi, it died quickly and he led the shorter boy over to a discarded crate, settling him before he could protest.
"I can think of much better ways to commit suicide than that..." Kyo replied.
"Well?" Kazuo didn't want to push, but Kyo's stoic silence was more than he could bear.
"It was dark...I couldn't see his face...b-but, I had no way to fight back, I mean look at me." His lip curled in disgust, "I'm a weakling....so he could do whatever he wanted..."
"Did he-?"
"You know the answer." Kyo's face reflected a torn mixture of misery and self-loathing and yet another squirm of discomfort passed through his slender frame. "I'm sorry." Kazuo couldn't think of anything more to say. "Don't be...I'll find him and kill him myself....I swear." The determination in Motobuchi's words shocked Kiriyama, but Kyo's hand reached out to close around his, "I could go on about how unfair it is that I should be treated like this when I'm only fifteen, I could cry for hours more, until it's all over, but I don't want to.....I have to at least help you and the others."
Kazuo smiled, not feeling the thin trickle of tears down his own cheeks until it was far too late.
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Four miles away Hiroki Sugimura sat on the steps of an un-named shrine and pondered where his friends where and if they were even still alive. The heavy heat suffusing every pore boded rain again and a soft wind made every wind chime hanging from the rotted girders above tinkle. A rousing classical anthem was blasting out over the island, maybe to stir them into a murderous frenzy, or just out of Kitano's twisted sense of humour. Not that it mattered, Chigusa and Kotohiki had disappeared without a trace and not even the little electronic GPS he held in his palm could tell him which of the frantically moving red blips were his absent girl-friends.
Or Kyoiuchu...a boy like him would never last long in this environment...surely he was gone by now, without Sugimura to protect him.
There's had been an ironic meeting he mused. Being a popular student, with both his peers and the teachers Sugimura had never been the target of any malicious bullying or the destructive campaigns of Mitsuko Souma. Motobuchi however was the polar opposite. At first glance he seemed utterly stereotypical, a boy who lived only to study and reach the expectations of his parents academically. Even his milk-bottle glasses gave off an air of geekiness for want of a better word. And when Sugimura had discovered him behind the bike sheds, weakly defending himself against a beating at the hands of Numai's gang the stereotype nearly drove him to just walk away.
Then Motobuchi had gotten to his feet and punched Sasawaga squarely in the jaw, nearly flooring the taller boy in one awkward tangle of limbs. Sugimura ran to his aid, just as Numai and his lackeys were tensing to pounce. He chased them away easily and returned to heart-felt thanks from the bookish student.
That was how they'd fallen into conversation, eventually culminating in Motobuchi's offer to tutor him and the almost secret friendship that had blossomed since. Hiroki had been so pre-occupied by Chigusa and Kotohiki that he'd barely spared a thought for Kyo-kun......but now it stung, imagining how frightened and lost he could be somewhere on the island.....Sugimura couldn't quite figure out why, but just thinking about it made his chest constrict.
"Sugimura."
He leapt from the stairs, turning to face whoever had snuck up behind him. The stranger remained cloaked in the shrines shadow for a few seconds and when he finally stepped into the light Hiroki's blood ran cold.
"You..."
Renzo Kibugami inclined his head and took a languid step forward, "Alone I take it...have you seen anyone else?" He enquired cooly.
Sugimura wrestled with the instinctive urge to run, his eyes flickering down to the hatchet dangling from Kibugami's fingers. Renzo smiled slowly, and raised the modest axe, " This? I haven't used it.....yet."
This was definatly not the time to bring up the garbled shouts he'd heard from Mizuho and Kaori as they ran past him last night. The terrible rumours of how Renzo had slaughtered Numai and his friends in a detached massacre and stolen their weapons. "Of course not, and no....I haven't seen a soul."
Sugimura tried to keep his voice cheerfully innocent, taking a step back as Renzo departed from the darkness fully. He barely had time to cry out when Kibugami drew back his arm and flung the axe.
~TBC~
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