Waiting Part Three:
Disclaimer: I don't own Battle Royale or any of the characters etc mentioned here- I however do reserve the right to ogle Kiriyama any time I like ^_^
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In the half-light Seto buzzed between the rusted tanks of kerosene Lijima and him had 'liberated' from a deserted warehouse a few miles down the road and an uneven arrangement of boxes they'd cobbled together as a work space. Plastic tubs and old buckets housed the volatile mixtures, lined up so innocuously on the wooden surfaces like the contents of someone's neglected garden shed.
Upstairs, the constant barrage of Mimura's cursing had begun again and despite Seto's reminders to himself, he couldn't shake the feeling something was going to suddenly stifle all their leader's fool-proof plans. Maybe this was one of the celestial dark-days that weird Satomi girl was always going on about.
"Hnh..astrology crap." He muttered, with a facetious smile.
"Pardon?" Seto raised his head to find Sugimura regarding him with puzzled eyes, "Did you say somethin-?"
"Nah, he's just going insane." Lijima piped up and shot his diminutive partner a cheeky grin. It was strange, Seto mused, how situations like these brought out the best, or worst in people. It was probably a blessing that they went to such extremes and made picking apart the friends from foes so much easier.
"Ha, ha...how're the Molotov’s goin Kieta?" He retorted belatedly.
Lijima took a deep breath to reply, but it was severed by a sudden skittering of the dirt just inches from their feet, announcing someone's violent arrival. The three boys scrambled for cover, each melting into the shadows as silently as the sounds of their tortured breathing would allow.
Seto's back hit the wall with a muted thud and he squinted through the darkness. Only a pale circle of light illuminated the centre of the rubbish strewn ground floor. Mimura appeared at the top of the stairs, brandishing his berretta, in the same second that their attacker made himself known.
"There's someone out ther-!"
A figure stepped into the circle. His face downcast for a moment, not even a hint of trepidation or injury in his sure, languid movements as he dropped the clip from his UZI 9mm with a nerve jarring crash. Clicking another firmly in its place the older boy stared intently up to Mimura and gave him a sickly sweet smile.
"Kiriyama, oh shit...." Shinji barely heard the words pass his lips before he hit the deck, feeling each bullet graze the skin just beneath his ear.
"MIMURA??!" Lijima cried out helplessly from the black, his cries silenced as Sugimura held his palm flush to the horrified brunette's mouth.
Kazuo took a careless step towards the stairs, not even blinking as Mimura's arm popped into view and he capped off a couple of blind rounds. Kiriyama aimed and without a second's hesitation peppered more bullets into the concrete above him. Shinji's pained cry rang out into the quiet.
And then nothing.
He could almost see the sadistic smile of pleasure curling the corners of Kazuo's chapped lips.
In his prison below Seto shook his head, whispering Mimura's name desperately. From the corner of his eye he could see Lijima struggling against Sugimura, but his pleas sounded so vague and disjointed. Mimura was going to die.... and they were powerless to prevent it.
Without giving his mind the time to consider it Seto burst from the shadows and waved his arms frantically,
"COME ON THEN CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!!" He waited for Kiriyama to turn, hoping in his fevered rush of adrenaline that this would piqué the monster's interest.
Kazuo studied him from under a mess of reddish strands and smiled again, the glimmer of insanity pure in his dark eyes. With a shaky gasp Seto turned to run, knowing, and accepting that he would be mown down by a hail of bullets before he could get three metres from the doors.
*click*
As he stumbled forward Seto cast one final glance back.
"Game over."
Each and every one present flinched as the shot pierced the air.
Kazuo turned to face the stairs again, his gaze flickering between the hole in his blood-stained shirt and the boy holding a smoking gun before him. Mimura leant heavily against the stair-rail, the steady dripping of scarlet fluid from his arm, ran its course to the floor, but where his body trembled, his expression was hard with rage.
Kiriyama drew the shirt back with his slender fingers to reveal a Kevlar jacket, his smile already forming maliciously.
*BANG*
The second shot threw his head back with such force that Mimura was splattered with blood and dust kicked up in a gossamer halo as Kiriyama Kazuo was laid to rest as violently as he'd played the battle.
"........"
Lijima and Hiroki fell from the obscured wall, their eyes wide with shock.
"Mim-mimura?" Seto's whisper caught in his throat and he struggled to stand, tearing back over to where Shinji stood, frozen as if made from ice. A beautiful, bloody tableau. Finally he lowered the handgun and took a wavering breath.
"That's one less to worry about." He murmured, shoving the gun into the pocket of his ragged trousers. Seto caught him just as the strain of standing became too much and they limped over to the cot Sugimura had recovered on. Shinji refused to lie down, but as his friends gathered round him he accepted Lijima's shoulder to lean on.
"Arigato." Yutaka managed after a long stretch of silence. Only the light hum of crickets and faraway classical arias complimented his thanks. Mimura shrugged, letting Sugimura tend to his wound without contest, "I said we'd all make it out of here....I promised myself."
"Not long now." Hiroki muttered as he cleaned the torn flesh at Mimura's shoulder, his hand reaching up to tug away the ruined white shirt, that was drenched with perspiration and the faint smell of chlorine.
"Do you think Shuya and Nobu are still alive?" Seto asked Mimura almost as if he expected his friend to know.
"If they aren't I'm sure they died protecting each other ne?" Hiroki interjected softly, finishing his dressing with a modest flourish. Mimura offered him a grateful smile.
"Uh-huh.....they'd never- they'd...." Lijima averted his eyes, overcome.
A firm hand closed over his shoulder and Mimura shifted to face his best-friend, just enough to reach out and slip a finger beneath his quivering chin and tug it up, "Leave each other, I know. Just as I'll never leave you, Seto or Hiroki."
Keita's eyes glistened with tears, and as he fumbled for the right words Mimura leant over, just enough to press his lips to Lijima's. Time seemed to dissipate, lingering in the fragile abyss before Kieta found himself and returned the kiss chastely.
Seto buried a gasp, but transfixed as he was on the sight of them nestled in the worn pile of blankets,
"You're leaving me behind....."
Hiroki smiled as Mimura's hand crept out to find Seto's, clutching it tightly, as if he would never be able to let go. He'd never want to. His gaze was torn between Lijima and Yutaka as they parted and drew the younger boy into a comforting embrace, trading kisses as if Hiroki wasn't even there.
*cough cough*
Mimura looked up and smiled, "Yes, Hiroki-kun......you don't want to join us do you?" The other student laughed brightly, but then focused his composure and replied, "Maybe, one day....now haven't we got a job to do?" In unison they nodded and one by one began to extract themselves reluctantly from the warmth and security they'd finally discovered lay just beneath their noses.
Mimura stood a little shakily, and addressed them with his usual solemn demeanour fully restored- for now. "We can take the school out now, I guess there are enough bombs and I think there's a harbour nearby where we can use one of the boats to make our escape."
"First things first right?" Sugimura interrupted politely. Shinji nodded and cast another smile over the group, lingering over Yutaka and Kieta with a devotion in his expression that spoke all the cautions and thanks he couldn't vocalise.
"Let's go." He replied simply.
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Once the truck was loaded up Lijima took the wheel, so far the night had been kind and no one except Kiriyama had crossed their path. The closing reverberations of gunfire and screams still haunted the darkness outside, but it had become almost common place- no less heart-rending, but a typical soundtrack to the island, which could be suppressed and held deep down if you tried hard enough.
Seto watched the road ahead, Mimura's gun held out defiantly in front of him. At the grill of the small, white truck Mimura himself was arming the bombs. He showed Hiroki an insignificant piece of metal, holding it up in the wan moonlight with an expression verging on pride, “The bomb trigger my Uncle used when he tried to blow up parliament.”
It was such a personal sacrifice that Sugimura only nodded, his smile practically smothered by the absence of light. As the trigger clicked into place Mimura got to his feet and called Yutaka back over. They spared barely a moment for another quick hug and then piled into the cabin of the modest truck.
The engine purred to life and Seto held out the brick he’d found propping up one of the desiccated car husks, “Is this okay?” He chirped, not betraying a hint of the nervous energy that coursed through his little frame.
Mimura smiled indulgently and tapped Lijima’s arm discreetly, “Hai, now we can end this.” Lijima’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, but he didn’t hesitate to pull away from the factory doors, not even bothering to look back.
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The road ahead was slick with recent rain and along the way the dark huddles of a few lifeless corpses had been strewn across their route, but there was nothing they could do to save any of their fallen friends and so empty platitudes were all they could offer to the bodies, a few whispered prayers for a better fate for them after this….
Hiroki seemed distant until a screeched shout shattered his reverie, someone was running towards the truck, waving a glinting blade above their head. The soft line of feminine curves and a billow of pale shone hair wafting in the breeze behind it told them Mitsuko had come for her dues. Her words were lost to the wind, but the enraged scowl on her face suggested this vengeance for something unknown was a long time coming.
Lijima closed his eyes and just drove on, waiting for the dull sound that would tell him her life was ended. It never came. The vicious girl leapt onto the fringes of grass lining the track and cast her eyes up to the window, catching Hiroki’s gaze just as he fired Mimura’s gun in her beautiful, jaded face.
He fell back into the cabin, breathing raggedly. Mimura extracted the gun cautiously from his shaking fingers and wrapped one arm round his shoulders, leaning in to murmur, “She deserved it.” Hiroki’s tear-filled eyes met his, “I know, I just thought I was above all this murdering.” Shinji almost felt he had the capacity to break down now, hearing Sugimura’s desperate guilt was heart-breaking. He offered only an affectionate kiss on the cheek, no more words would suffice.
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The school was a prison, a fortress surrounded by the uniform clusters of military men and women, their sombre faces alluded to no pity or sense of doubt about the horrific deeds they were allowing to be performed on this hell hole. Kitano’s castle loomed over them in the approaching twilight and Seto couldn’t fail to be shaken by its brooding façade.
Just before they reached the edge of perception Mimura leant over Hiroki and popped open the door. The truck ground to a halt and they each jumped down to the disturbed earth below.
“Set the brick Lijima.” Mimura whispered loudly, making his way round to the other side of the truck. Lijima was a step ahead of him and gave the spiky-haired rebel a thumbs up, reaching up to ignite the engine once again.
The band of friends lined up behind the weathered vehicle and watched as it rumbled towards the school, gaining ground rapidly. Eventually a cry went up and the soldiers finally noticed the impending attack.
But, it was too late- huddled in the undergrowth the boys shared smiles as the truck impacted and a blossom of white heat erupted over the building where this nightmare had all started. Seto imagined the look on Kitano’s leathery face- seconds before he was burnt to a crisp and grinned. None of them condoned violence……..no this was revenge, justice and peace for their friends.
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The sea was a pure, greenish blue and Lijima leant over the bow of the small tug-boat, letting his fingertips tickle the rippling surface. He’d never appreciated nature until now….never appreciated the world that surrounded him until it was almost torn away. Seto was perched on the rim of the cabin work-top at Mimura’s side as their leader and lover steered them back home.
He glanced over to Hiroki, and muttered, “It’s beautiful, even though it’s where everyone died ne?” The stoic boy only nodded, a tiny smile colouring his lips.
They all knew once the boat hit dry land it would be a struggle, a fight to stay alive….but at least they had each other.
~OWARI~
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