Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from Battle Royale, the imaginations of Koushun Takami, Kinji Fukasaku etc except for the original situation depicted here. This fic contains *Shonen ai* (I.E. Romance between two of the MALE characters) Enjoy.
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‘So I want to say thank you, It makes that much stronger, Makes me work a little bit harder, Makes me that much wiser, Thanks for making me a fighter.’
( Christina Aguliera- Fighter )
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At first there was only darkness and faint sounds slipping through his consciousness like phantoms. Somehow, as the moon began its descent in the early hours of the morning ill-defined shadows forced their way infront of his eyes and the boy prised them open with a weary moan. Beneath his splayed limbs the dirt was splattered with sticky fluids that clung to his tattered uniform. For a moment all he could do was let out the breath he’d been holding since he realised that it wasn’t over. He was still imprisoned in a life that he’d seen too many of his friends abandon in the past few days. Stretching out his fingers he dug them into the soil and carefully levered himself upright. An imprint of grime had secreted his exhausted body ever since the haven he’d created for himself and the others had been so violently shattered. The realisation struck him like a blow to the head and he glanced round, panic welling up in his veins.
“Seto?....Kieta...?” He hadn’t meant to whisper, his mind screamed their names, but it seemed the waning dark wanted to swallow every word.
His eyes flickered from the broken down building to his left, an old night club according to their deductions which was now lit from within by amber light, flames licked over its rotten window frames and jagged edges of glass panes. All around him lay a battlefield of crumpled car skeletons, but his attention was stolen by what lay directly ahead of the club’s shutters.
“Iie.” Their salvation lay in ruins, a wilted husk of metal consumed by more of the voracious fire that surrounded his sanctuary. He remembered the excitement in little Seto’s voice when he returned with the truck and the same quiet determination he’d never seen in the eyes of Kieta. He tried to call out again, over the crack and hiss of the flames, but only a choked sob escaped his throat.
Seto wouldn’t reply.
His gaze settled on the track where his friend’s body lay twisted in a heap, a wet stain pooling around his corpse as each heartbeat passed by. It was almost too much for him to bear and his steps faltered as he approached the wrecked vehicle. There were too many what ifs, too many regrets and as he braced himself to peer round the edge of the truck a wave of guilt washed over him.
“K-kieta?”
A blackened scarecrow was hunched up against the grill. Its features slurred into an indistinguishable mask that fragmented before his eyes, tiny flakes of skin carried on a cold breeze that whipped through the clearing. The boy turned his face away and bent double. His stomach lurched sharply until a thin stream of acidic bile hit the scorched ground at his feet.
Through the heaving aches and an overwhelming dizziness that caused him to stumble back slightly he felt a pair of hands slip beneath his arms, supporting his weight easily. When he finally gathered his senses again the boy began to struggle.
“Iie! Bakayarou lemme go!! Kuso..Kuso!! Nan de yo?!”
A soft, melodic laugh sprung up behind him and he wrenched himself away, spinning round so fast he nearly lost his footing again. The firelight cast a warm halo around the boy stood infront of him and as dull morning crept up upon them both he noticed the other student was smiling.
“Kieta?”
lijima’s smile widened, “None other.” He almost fell over as the boy practically collapsed into his waiting arms, burying his face in the ragged material clinging desperately to the taller boy’s shoulder. kieta sank them both slowly to the dusty soil, “Shinji-kun...I thought you were dead.”
A far-away birdsong whispered over the island and when the spiky-haired teenager finally met his friend’s eyes his own were glazed with moisture, “What happened? I don’t remember.” kieta knew how frightening it was for Mimura not to understand something. His best-friend was so meticulous and controlled it scared lijima deep down to see him so confused, like a lost child.
“That bastard transfer, you saw him....and Seto....he was like a machine, he just kept coming for us...I tried to shoot him and he went after you. Stupid fuck...I’d never let....you were too close to the truck, I didn’t see until I shot out the trigger....it knocked us both out. I was searching for you in all the wrong places, but he’s dead now...it’s just us I think.” Shinji nodded and wiped his face on one torn sleeve, the composure kieta was used to returning slowly to his grubby face.
“You’re okay aren’t you?” He replied quietly, as if in the serenity of the deserted island Kitano might be listening to them still. “Fine, better now I know you’re alright too.” Under a layer of grime kieta smiled again and reached up to ruffle Shinji’s hair affectionately. The corners of Shinji’s lips curled up slightly and he took a breath to answer.
*bleep bleep bleep bleep* Both students started, clutching at the metal bands encircling their necks. Their eyes widened in surprise and horror as crimson lights began to flicker over the small black button of each collar, accompanied by a rapid electronic beep that raced faster and faster, shattering the silence.
*bleep bleep bleepbleep*
“Kuso.” kieta breathed with a calm that un-nerved Shinji as he sat helplessly cursing in his head. The ominous tone was reaching fever pitch and all they could do was wait for the inevitable. It was the final seconds of the third day and just as Kitano had promised, there would be only one winner, or none at all.
Callused fingertips against his cheek startled Shinji back to reality and he raised his head, gazing deeply into the eyes of his friend. Without a word kieta leant closer, trailing his fingers over Shinji’s slack lips and replaced them with his own in a kiss that seemed too final for either of them to accept.
*bleepbleepbleepbleep*
When he drew back Shinji noticed the neglected nine millimetre handgun was now clutched tightly in his right hand. kieta smiled almost wistfully, “For me Shinji-kun...survive this.” Before Shinji could even raise his hand to protest kieta raised the gun, pressed it against his temple and fired. A sudden fluttering of panicked wings from the trees above did nothing to drown out Shinji’s screams. Whisps of pale grey smoke wound up into the chill morning air from the barrel of the gun as it slipped from kieta’s lifeless fingers and he slumped forward into Shinji’s shaking arms.
*bleep fzzkt*
He barely heard the deadly noise grind to a halt. Infact he could barely sense anything beyond the limp body he held close and the hot tears that slid down his ashen cheeks to mingle with each droplet of blood that peppered his skin.
“K-kieta...nan de yo? Nan de?....baka.”
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to end. He’d promised that if they left it would be together. Not alone, not like this. In the stillness of the aftermath a small epiphany dawned upon him and Shinji snatched up the gun, his hand trembling, the other still wrapped protectively around kieta’s waist. Without regret he pointed it at his temple and depressed the trigger, his eyes shut to the impending darkness.
*click*
“Sir, we’ve found him.” A stern voice penetrated his feverish disappointment and Shinji’s eyes snapped open. An anonymous young man in camouflage overalls stood at the side of the truck, a few meters away. He shouldered his all too familiar rifle and spoke into a radio in his palm again. As Shinji looked on in silence more soldiers filtered into the clearing. His hand sank to the dirt again along with the empty gun.
It seemed he was to be the reluctant victor afterall.
~OWARI~