[Event] Battle Royale: Day 3

[bezejmenny]

Who: Johan Liebert, Belial, and everyone who signed up here.
Where: Inside the TV.
When: Friday, August 28.
Summary: The game ends.
Rating: R
Other: Refer to this post for information. Remember to comment to the "LOSERS" thread when your character dies. THIS IS THE LAST POST! Happy dying!

Comments

[sagittariinae]

Ah, his vision was starting to go wrong about the edges. And while Kazama knew that he should probably be more concerned about it -- a marksman was nothing without his vision -- he was finding it difficult to care about anything much any more at present time. The bandages wound about his head had adequately stopped the bleeding from his shot-off ear and the deep lacerations the grazed bullets had carved into his flesh. The myriad of different little pains making friends with all the other pains in his limbs, his head -- that, combined with the fact that this was his third day without sleep, it was starting to wear him down.

His footsteps were still silent as he padded down the hallway, the uzi held slack as he made his way towards the 'home base' classroom. Knowing that he'd need a short break -- even a few minutes would be fine. He needed to close his eyes. Hidan was standing guard outside with the pistol -- and he wouldn't be gone long, anyway. (Staying still for too long was a danger. A luxury he couldn't afford.)

The door dragged open, and he spared the two others a brief glance before making his way towards one of the empty corners, sitting down on the floor with his back against the wall. The uzi still held loosely (never, ever lose your weapon if you wish to survive) as he canted his head back to rest against the wall. "I'm just resting for a few minutes before going back out. Hidan's still out there." The exhaustion -- both physical and mental -- was starting to take his toll, and his voice was almost inaudibly quiet.

[lazyish]

Kazama's entrance distracted Shikamaru momentarily from his thoughts... if they were even really his. And for that, he was grateful, although it didn't bring his blood pressure down any. Still clutching his head, he nodded in response to the news of Hidan. It seemed they hadn't run into any trouble while he and Yosuke were asleep.

Unless Kazama's lying, that voice piped up again. Maybe he killed Hidan out there and he's here to kill you too. Maybe you didn't hear any shots because he used a knife. Don't stop thinking just because you think you're safe.

"Pain in the ass," he muttered to himself.

He turned to look at Yosuke. His friend really wasn't doing well... He'd be in the hospital for a week when this was over just to fight that infection. Only a few more hours until he could get treated. Though... The mission he had felt so determined about yesterday seemed so dim and hopeless today. How was he supposed to save Yosuke when he felt this weak himself?

[waitingfora]

"Shika." His head hadn't rose off of his folded arms, talking in a muffled manner. He hoped that it would hide any of the fear and anything else that would give his thought process away. "I need to talk to Kazama-senpai alone for a second. Isn't that, okay?" Yosuke wondered if he sounded like he was half asleep, but that would be fine. Anything would be fine than the truth.

If he could, he would have tried to save his friend from having fight Hidan. But, that would have to come after he dealt with his senpai. Maybe, if he had some strength left, he could kill Shika, too. What kind of thought is that? Lightly scratching the back of his head, he finally sat up that he would stop looking like death rolled over. Or maybe, that was just how he thought he looked. But, he shouldn't say that -- think that -- Kazama and Hidan looked worse off than he was. A friendly enough smile to the two around him as he was feeling just a little nauseous. Would he really be able to do this? This question just kept coming up and he had to answer 'yes' to it.

[lazyish]

Shikamaru wasn't fooled. Maybe it was because his own thoughts were along the same lines. Yosuke had come to distrust Kazama as much as he had, wasn't that right? He had the uzi and they were unarmed. If they hoped to make a move before Kazama decided to, they'd have to be very sneaky about it. And since Kazama was Yosuke's senpai, Yosuke would know better how to go about this.

"Yeah, sure, partner," he murmured supportively, hoping Yosuke would catch onto his approval of the plan. Shikamaru gave his friend's uninjured shoulder a light squeeze, then climbed to his feet. "I'll go see if I can find any more medic kits."

But he didn't. Once he was out and had shut the door behind him, Shikamaru took his place up against the corridor wall and listened. He drew the ballpoint pen from his pocket, clutching it like a knife. Any sound of trouble and he'd charge in, give Yosuke whatever help that he could.

[sagittariinae]

Kazama had closed his eyes almost immediately after speaking -- too tired to stay on edge any more, and had been terribly close to dozing off (at least for a few minutes) when Yosuke's voice woke up him. And though he kept his eyes closed, he did listen to the brief exchange, noting the footsteps as Nara left the room. Just the two of them, then.

Opening his eyes, he gave Yosuke a long stare -- studying his kouhai closely. It looked like the fever was still there. Yosuke was probably out of the running for winning his game -- and for a brief moment, Kazama entertained the idea of simply finish Yosuke off himself. With the uzi still in hand, all it would take was one well-aimed shot from where he was sitting. Then, another at Nara when he entered the door. Easiest kills in his long list of past kills -- even including the last round of BR.

But no, no. (Not yet, at least.) Sighing, let his head rest back against the wall once more. "What is it."

[holyish]

Too bad that Hidan, at the moment, could care less about the other’s that were in the room. He spared nothing but a passing glance at Kazama had entered the room, too busy mutilating his own arm with the switchblade as he sat on the corridor floor -- trying with a fanatic sort of determination to remove the bullets that were lodged in his bandaged, damaged and useless arm.

Seemed like he was all too use to immortality to take in any consideration that the flaps of flesh that hanged loose on the wounded appendage would not heal. And the albino himself was feeling an unusual sort of apathy concerning his condition, because Hidan was seriously not planning on winning this retarded game -- how many chances would he be fucking mortal anyway? And the self-destruction continued as a slight pop of metal wormed from the bullet wound and fell to the ground.

That was when his brother opened the door and slithered out, a quirk of an eyebrow and a hardened firm expression of irritation marked his visage as the other leaned against the wall. He stood up, leaning against the wall and pulled the material down over the bleeding arm, murmuring with feverish frustration, "What the hell are you doing?"

[waitingfora]

Pushing himself into a standing position, he walked over to Kazama -- steps hesitant and holding his head, thinking that maybe he should have asked his senpai to come over instead of closing the distance. No. It wouldn't be right to make him do all the work. But, isn't that what he's been doing all this time? His stare was an apologetic one, knowing there were never going to be enough apologies for what he was about to do, for what it must be for Kazama to deal with all this, again.

"I don't ... I don't think it's right that you have to do this, again, senpai." His chapped lips pressed together, wondering if it was all right to say that much now. Probably? "It's not right. I haven't been able to tell that to you... You really did a lot for us. Both Hidan and you. But I'm pissed as hell that you were dragged into this! You're ..." His shoulders had drawn up to yell something, but lost his nerve in the end. Gaze slightly downward, he noticed the knife -- glad as he wasn't sure what he was going to do to kill Kazama. Strangling him in his weakened condition wouldn't do anything, probably get him a good beat-down if not killed.

"Just sorry." He took a hesitant step forward to wrap his arms around Kazama to give him a hug. That was what he wanted to do. Yosuke would be firm that he thought that his senpai needed a hug more than any of them present. It wasn't just to take the knife that was present. It wasn't. Hopefully, he would be believed. Hopefully, Kazama would be alive so that he could say that much.

The knife felt heavy in his hand as soon as it was taken. It really felt like watching someone else do it when he began stabbing his senpai. There wasn't any real method that he thought was best, just trying to make it as quick and painless as he could. But who could find such a death painless? More frantic jabs of the blade than anything else; trying to push the knife in deep before tearing it out just to drive it in again. Just die quickly, just die quickly, just...

[sagittariinae]

Under normal circumstances, things might have been drastically different. Kazama would have noticed straight away that Yosuke was acting strangely, would have immediately gotten to his feet, wouldn't have let the other draw this close. But these weren't 'normal circumstances,' were they. He was far too tired to move, and he only watched as Yosuke drew closer, listening to the halting words in silence.

It was only during the faint pause that Yosuke hesitated that he answered, his words flat and dulled, "It doesn't matter." Because it didn't. All that mattered was that he was alive right now, and he'd do whatever the moment required of him. Perhaps attempt to win this vicious game again -- or simply give up. Neither option was pretty, and some small part of him felt irritated that Yosuke was insisting on bringing this up when all he wanted to do was rest. -- still, it was hard to stay tense when he felt Yosuke drag him into some awkward semblance of a hug. And he let out a shallow breath, eyes closing for a brief moment -- (maybe it would be best for me to attempt to let him win -- maybe --)

(maybe.)

The pain was immediate and stunning, ripping through his side, and he recoiled at the first stab, his limbs tensing up and blood rising in his throat. And he moved without thinking, reaching out to grapple with Yosuke's arm -- but in his present state, he just wasn't quick enough. The knife sunk in again, heralding a gush of bright blood, and he choked, doubling over -- the gun entirely forgotten as he tried to grab at Yosuke's arms with trembling hands, desperately holding the knife at bay before it stabbed yet again. And though he didn't feel much in the way of emotions other than shock, his features were still etched with a deep betrayal. (Why are you doing this?)

[waitingfora]

The final time that he drew the knife out, he tried to take a few steps back. Already, his clothes were stained with Kazama's blood; felt like it stained deep that everything was red. Yosuke had just continued after each stab, just trying to complete the task so that he wouldn't have to think about what he was doing. The mantra of begging that his senpai died quickly kept repeating itself over and over in his head. Blocking out any other sound that he could have possibly heard. He didn't know what else to do, didn't know how to answer the look that Kazama gave him.

"I just didn't want you to win! You already won once! I didn't want you to win, again!" He let the knife drop out of his trembling hands, screaming at his senpai. Not sure if he could still hear him, but wanting him to understand all the same. Yosuke should have waited to clear this thought process with Shika, but it was his burden to bear. He didn't want his friend to have to make this sort of decision with him. Because, Kazama was his responsibility, wasn't he? "You had ... you had a higher chance now and ... I couldn't let you!"

His legs gave out from under him, resting on his knees. Kazama-senpai. I'm sorry. I just ... I didn't know what to do to help you. I wasn't able to do anything this entire time. He crawled closer to his senpai, not sure what it was he was doing. Yosuke would blame it all on his fever later as he just reached out to hold the body close to him. Maybe it was just shock at what he had done. "I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to die, but that wasn't... don't hate me. Okay? Just don't hate me. I'll make it up somehow."

[sagittariinae]

So much of his own blood, everywhere. One of the wayward stabs much have punctured his lung, because he was having trouble breathing, just barely sucking in sharp, shallow gasps -- and exhaling blood. And his vision was starting to blur, shock rapidly taking over and shutting down his senses. Yosuke's words were echoing strangely in his head, each word stuttering before reverberating through his ears (-- no, singular, the bandages around his head were dyed back red again now) -- and he coughed as the knife dropped to the ground, weakly letting go of Yosuke's wrists as the younger backed away.

And some part of him wanted to laugh. So that was the reason for this murder? -- of course, he knew that he had no right to complain -- perhaps this was a better way to go than dying at the hands of some other player, and a death granted through good intentions was probably better than death just because the other wanted to survive. It was undeniable now that he was going to die -- already, his nerves were starting to die, the feeling draining from his limbs.

But still, but still. It was almost unconscious, the way he lashed out, kicking Yosuke under the chin to force him back. His movements stilted, blood dripping from his lips in thick rivulets, he staggered to his feet -- his vision focusing for a moment on the bright splatters of red he was leaving all over the floor. (Ah. So much blood.) -- because even though he knew he was going to die, he was still human, in the end, eternally rejecting the possibility of a 'THE END.' Hands slippery, he just barely managed to shove the door open -- not even sure of where he was heading, simply knowing he had to get away -- and staggered into the figure standing outside the classroom.

[lazyish]

Shikamaru hadn't expected Hidan to be right there, but he ignored his brother's question so that he could listen to what was going on inside the classroom. It all happened much more quickly than he expected. Quiet murmurs gave way to sounds of a struggle and he had to force himself to stay in his place, to keep out of their way unless Yosuke called for him. He had to take care of this himself. Shikamaru understood that.

When Kazama burst through the door, Shikamaru raised his makeshift weapon, aiming to bury it in Kazama's neck but then he changed his mind. Just one glance at the damage Yosuke had done told him that Kazama was already dying. Hidan could finish him.

So he shoved past the two and stumbled back into the classroom. Yosuke was on the floor. Shikamaru fell to his knees beside him, dropping the pen to reach out for him. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly. He couldn't tell whether the blood that covered Yosuke was Kazama's or not, and he was already cursing himself for thinking Yosuke was capable of pulling this off alone.

[holyish]

Jesus fucking Christ. Why the hell was everyone just ignoring him? God, it pissed Hidan off; the way that he had let out a grunt was proof of that enough, and it took him a while to actually stand up to get over to the door, only to unpredictably have Kazama collide with him and his brother raise -- what? That shitty piece of crap as a weapon? His own hardly-manageable arm reached up to wrap it around Kazama’s waist and he barely had enough energy to keep the heavy fucker up.

"-- Shit. Watch where the hell you’re going!" But his words were soon cut off as he felt the heavy thick fluid of blood against his own frame, wet and new and emitting that raw scent. His glance had caught Yosuke and Shika, the words of concern, and then to Kazama who was tossed to him like some fucking leftovers, and the albino snarled as his bad arm finally -- with as much effort as he could muster -- released Kazama, but not before muttered lowly to him, "I almost fucking thought you’d live through this shit you cheap bastard."

Lips pulled back into a typical delirium-high grin, and who the fuck gave a shit about restricting themselves anymore. So, Hidan turned his gaze towards the other two. But Hidan wasn’t going to kill Shika, fuck. And he had been waiting to blow out Yosuke’s brains, this seemed like a good enough reason too; the bastard took his kill, and basically his fucking partner. Hidan removed the pistol from his hoodie, and he said with a disgruntled murderous intent, "You know what? Don’t see why the fuck I didn’t do this earlier. It’s the way of the damn game huh? And you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this." And even though Hidan’s forte wasn’t with guns, his aim was more than proficient as he pulled the trigger to empty the pistol rounds in the other’s head.

[waitingfora]

Yosuke shouldn't have been so surprised to be kicked away from Kazama. What did he think? That he would quietly hold his senpai until -- his thought process ended not wanting to finish it. His head shook a few times as he started to try to push himself up. It was difficult, but he wasn't sure what the underlying cause was; his fever or the guilt of what he had just done. It really surprised him that Kazama was still alive. Here he had been begging that the guy would go out peacefully and -- his shoulder shook slightly, now really uncertain if he was laughing or crying. Hopefully, it was the later. He barely noticed when Shika came to his side.

"I just didn't want him to have to go through this, again. I wasn't able to do anything for anyone else. Maybe even spare you from having to kill anyone too, partner." It could have almost been a threat if he actually looked up from his fallen pose. He just wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. Turning his head slightly, he looked up at Hidan in minor confusion. The words taking just a few seconds to register, but it didn't seem to matter. Unlike when he stabbed Kazama, things didn't seem to freeze. Didn't seem to suddenly slow down.

He stared down the barrel of the gun, about to say something, when it was cut off by the shots. It was strange; it felt like sudden pressure against his skull before the pain came. And the pain was momentary at that. Few of the bullets didn't exit, but regardless, enough force behind the gun to knock him backward onto the classroom floor. Blood splattered from both the initial firing and the fall; spilling out over everywhere in a terrible mess. His fingers twitched -- more like spasms -- a few times afterward before his body stilled.

[sagittariinae]

Everything was growing hazy, his vision sharply deteriorating into a mass of blurred shapes, and it took him a terribly long moment to realize that he'd run into someone. Nara? -- no, that was Nara running into the room, no doubt to check on Yosuke, which meant -- . A cough, and shudder, and he instinctively tried to pull away from Hidan, a throbbing fear pulsing through his veins as they emptied of blood. Funny, though, how his body wouldn't listen to his mind, any more. The best he could do was make some weak attempt to rise to his feet, and even that hardly worked. Slumped against Hidan, he felt his thoughts grow sluggish -- it was growing increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open.

It wasn't just his vision -- his perception in general was growing warped, and though he managed to hear Hidan's words with some clarity, everything else seemed muted, watched from miles away. (I don't know if I would have wanted to survive this again.) And at some point, he'd hit the ground, looking up at the events that went on. It was an odd experience -- trying to make sense of the blurred shapes seen from down at this level, it was hard to make out what was going on -- and he let out a shallow exhale as the gunshots rang out. -- ah, Hanamura was dead, wasn't he.

-- he still didn't want to die, not like this (but then how?) -- still clung tenaciously to the life that was left in him (bleeding out trickle by drop). Only for a few moments, though. Sprawled on the floor, the last thing he saw was the slowly spreading pool of his own blood, and Hanamura's trembling hands, before his eyes closed and his heart simply stopped.

[lazyish]

Shikamaru had been reaching out to check Yosuke for wounds when Hidan's shouts cut through the air. He heard the words, but it took just a few seconds too long for him to register their meaning. If he hadn't been so distracted, his head so muddled by that fog sickness, he might have moved quickly enough to put himself between Yosuke and those bullets.

Instead, he sat dumbly and watched. Thundering noise, a spray of blood, and his best friend gone in a matter of seconds. Not just his best friend... His entire life's purpose. Up until now, he had been following Yosuke. He had been wandering lost until Yosuke came into his life, and from that moment forward he knew it was his job to protect. The word knight came to mind, and then vanished along with everything else inside of him. Yosuke was gone now.

Shikamaru turned slowly to look at his brother. The emotion had washed from his face. He didn't even seem to be asking why that had to happen. Dull eyes met Hidan's. He waited silently for what came next.

[holyish]

What the hell was Shika expecting when Hidan had heard the satisfying thump of the bullet-ridden corpse collapsing on the ground -- as well as Kazama dropping to his knees and then collapsing soon afterwards. Because to Hidan, that was the most fucking satisfying sound of Yosuke’s skull cracking on the hard wooden floor that the albino had heard in a while.

Even after the bloodied and punctured mass of broken bones and fragments of skull had found it’s way to the floor, Hidan’s aim didn’t waver. Lips drew upwards into a murderous smirk before tossing the gun carelessly to the ground and looked at Shika, "Bullshit Shika, you though that faggot was going to survive all this? Too bad. He killed my partner, so I killed yours. So, what? You’re just gonna stand there like a pussy?" A bloodied hand reached up to rub his palm along his face with frustration.

"Jeez man. Seriously? Why the fuck don’t you just kill me? Then we’d be pretty damn even, huh? -- Or are you just gonna shit yourself?" And with a sluggish shrug of his shoulders, he turned back around and slid the door open to leave.