Battle Royale Fan Fiction ❯ If... ❯ Ballad of a Fallen Angel ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter 12: Ballad of a Fallen Angel

 

"I thought you had my back, thought I knew you
it's clear to me…you'll see…I don't play that game
don't claim to be the same as me, cause you're not
you ain't gotta shot…shot…in this world"
-"Face to Face", Tommy Lee

Before anyone react, Yoshimi had already pulled the trigger, launching a bullet that grazed Mitsuko's cheek.

"What the hell?" Mitsuko yelled, holding her freshly cut cheek with her hand.

"You bitch." Yoshimi growled and she kept her gaze and her gun pointed at her, ignoring the fact that Chigusa had already drawn hers.

“Bitch? You're the one who shot me.”

"Yoshimi, stop it." Yamamoto grabbed her from behind, trying to wrestle the gun away from her. "This is not the time." He wasn't sure what had ignited this little tiff and judging by Mitsuko's teammates, they didn't have the faintest idea, either, but there was no way he was going to let any more blood be spilt. He could still recall every detail of Ai's horrified face when he shot her in the throat as well as the older man that Yoshimi plugged several holes into. The way he looked up at Yamamoto with the last of his strength, hoping to find something only to die with a disappointed look on his face.

Then there were the two soldiers guarding the boat. Despite all the noise they made, the two men held firm as if nothing happened. Not wanting to tangle with them, Yamamoto decided to throw one of their grenades at them. Now the almost funny part came when he threw the thing a little too far and blew a nice chunk of the boat (rendering it completely useless) along with the two men.

“Let me go.” Yoshimi struggled in his arms with little avail.

“There's already been enough death; we don't need to add any more.” Yamamoto quickly sighed. "Sakura would want it that way."

“He's right.” Yuuichiro bravely stepped forward, dropping the ice pick in his hands. “This is what The Program wants.” He tried to motion for Chigusa to drop her gun. She opted to lower it a bit instead.

“Are you crazy?” Chigusa couldn't keep her eyes off of Yuuichiro. It wasn't just his calmness and bravery that got her attention, but the fact that this whole mess was making her head swim, bringing back memories of their face-off with the Yellow Team. Social situations were never her strong suit; hopefully Yuuichiro would escape from this one unscratched.

 

"That's my brave boy." Mitsuko mused as she watched her Yuiichiro take another step.

"I know you're scared, Yoshimi. So am I." Yoshimi's mood began to darken as she dropped her gun and her gaze. "Oh God, please let this work." Yuuichiro's mind began to flash back to his last ten minutes with the Yellow Team. Except this situation had more corpses and a knife-wielding Megumi was replaced with an emotionally distraught bad girl with a gun. At least Yoshimi was willing to listen to him and had pretty much calmed down even though her hair was obscuring his view of her face.

As much as he hated to admit it, maybe Mitsuko was right and Megumi would've never believed them. He liked to think that it had more to do with the Program's fear-mongering and less with her pride and sharing her dear, sweet "Shinji-Poo." Even if it was the later, he hoped her death was quick, painless and not some bloody mess due to doing something very, very stupid.

 

"You're right." Yoshimi's voice sounded like nearly all the fire she possessed minutes before was extinguished. She slowly rotated her head towards Mitsuko in a single, jerky movement, easily sensing Chigusa tightening her grip on her gun, but she might as well not have existed. "I wouldn't mind being ditched and raped all over again."

"Mitsu..." Mitsuko could just feel the pedestal Yuuichiro placed under her start to crumble. As clever as he was brave, he could easily figure out what was going on. And deep down, she knew no amount of lying would get him to think other wise.

"Yeah, Mitsuko. Why don't you tell them about how you tried to pimp me and Hirono off to those two sleaze bags."

"Yoshimi, this is not the time or place." Mitsuko said through gritted teeth.

"Well I think it is." Yoshimi chuckled bitterly, turning to the other members of Mitsuko's team. "Oh, you two are going to love this part. Get this, when I dare to not go along, she lets them rape me any way. No matter how hard I cry. No matter how hard I scream, she just tunes me out as if nothing's happening."

"You bitch." Chigusa muttered coldly at Mitsuko. Despite the threat of the ticking time that was Yoshimi's current state, Chigusa was ready to strangle her teammate. Just what she needed, a female Niida in her midst; ready to abuse any girl in her way for her own self-gain. Hopefully, Yuuichiro would cover his eyes when she did it.

"...." More than anything, Mitsuko wanted to kick herself. She had been in worse situations before and was always able to come out without breaking a sweat. Damn that little bitch. Damn her to hell for taking all the words out of her mouth and turning her own team against her.

There was the slight chance that she could still keep Yuuichiro on her side if she fucked enough of his brains out afterwards. Chigusa, on the other hand, was going to be a tougher nut to crack. She still had the save her life\virginity thing to dangle over her head, but for how long. Once Chigusa paid her back, there was no guarantee that she'd stay loyal afterwards.

"That's all you can come up with?" Yoshimi let out another cruel, bitter laugh. "At least Hirono has her "at least I admit that I'm a bitch" bullshit excuse to fall back on."

"It doesn't matter!" Yuuichiro shouted. "Yoshimi, I'm sorry about what happened to you. I really am. But Mitsuko's right, this is not the time or place to be fighting with each other. We need to get out of here. So are you with us or not?"

Yoshimi's face went blank as it turned to a sickly pale. For three almost endless seconds, she stood motionless, trying to absorb everything that went on until every part of her manually shut off, causing her to faint.

"Yoshimi!" Throwing away everything that happened, he ran to her the second she landed on the sand.

"God, you're so fucking naive." Yoshimi laughed, seizing her gun and pointing it right into his forehead.

"Mitsu, Chigusa, I'm so sorry I let you both down." He shut his eyes, hoping for a quick, painless death.

 

        “Aahhhh!” Yoshimi's screams, three gunshots, and the splotch of blood that hit his face forced Yuuichiro's eyes open. Unless there was an unwritten rule that the dead were forced to remain on the site they died for all eternity, it was a safe guess that he was still alive since he hadn't magically vanished from the island. All that had changed was her terrified face, gazing at her bloody, bullet-ridden shooting hand as her teammate rushed to her aid.

        Yuuichiro turned to Chigusa. Her normally cold and stoic demeanor couldn't hide that her hands were shaking from firing the gun he bestowed upon her. If things were different, he would've stood in awe of her marksmanship and dragged her into the nearest arcade to see what she could do with the latest House of the Dead game. But it was the brief image of those shaking hands that snapped him out of his moment of childishness and made him want to console her. This was not the robo-bitch that the other kids labeled her as, but a thinking and feeling girl who might be as scared as he was.

        “Come on, let's go.” Mitsuko said, already turning her back on her former friend.

        “What about…”

        “They can take care of themselves. Now let's go.” She could feel her teammates' perplexed stares at her. Uncharacteristic of her, maybe, but she couldn't let her brave boy lose faith in her yet.

 

Red & Yellow

When Shuuya asked Shinji why he dubbed his new escape plan the “Yellow Death”, all Shinji did was gently laugh as a brief, happy memory came to his mind before snapping back into the cold reality they were thrust into. Aside from this whole Program shit, to Shuuya it felt like old times again; working along side his old friend as they started gathering the materials for the bomb. When he thought about it, the “Yellow Death” was a pretty good idea: fill a minivan with explosives, send it rolling down toward the school, detonate the thing, and while the soldiers were off to inspect the damage, make their escape.

        “It's too bad.” Shinji unknowingly said out loud as he began hotwiring a mini-van they just found.

        “What's too bad?” Shuuya asked.

        “That we couldn't get a cuter girl. No offense to Seto, but we got stuck with a dog here.”

        “Come on, don't you think you're being a little hard.” Shuuya leaned against the side of the mini-van. “We can't all be supermodels.”

        “I know, I know.” Shinji sighed, if he wanted a lecture on inner beauty, he'd bring their teacher back to life and shoot off some sexist comment. “But, a dog's still a dog if you ask me.”

        “I don't know.” Shuuya closed his eyes, remembering her comforting smile and the feeling of her thumbs wiping the tears from his eyes. “I think she's very beautiful.”

        “Uh, Shuuya.” Pulling himself from his work, Shinji held three fingers to his friend's face. “How many fingers am I holding?”

        He good-naturedly sighed as if Shinji was just some cute, ignorant five-year-old and gently pushed his fingers away. “You just don't get it, do you?”

        “No I don't.” He said as he got back to his work.

        “Congratulations, Shinji.” Fujiyoshi thought as she hugged the outside of the garage, listening in on the whole thing. “You just confirmed my theory that you're a dick.”

 

She knew it was a horrible thing to think, but as much as it would've infuriated her dear Yutaka and half the girls in her school, it just had to come out. Then again, would they even recognize her if they ever saw her again? Stupid program was hardening her more than she liked to admit. Within two days she had made a crude remark about a man she hardly knew, found a love that was brutally torn away from her, lost half of her friends, fought the urge to strangle both Oda and Kiriyama, witnessed more death than most civilians do in their life time, and now she was calling some boy who she never really liked in the first place a mean word that girls like her would never use. Nice girls are supposed to be balled up in a crawlspace, sobbing their pathetic little eyes out if they saw what she saw.

To hell with that. To hell with all of polite society's concepts of “nice, obedient people.” This whole game is just nothing but to keep every single good citizen afraid. She tightened her fists at the realization of them all. "I swear to God, Shuuya, I'm getting you out of here. Away from this country, away from everything."
       
WHITE

        “Gods,” Inada raised her kitana in the air with both of her hands. “Grant these warriors safe passage into the afterlife.” She lowered her weapon, pointing the tip at the bodies of her former teammates that she and Hatagami laid onto the boat.

        Sure she knew the whole ceremony reeked of stupid, but it was a safe kind of stupid. The kind of stupid that damped her pain and made her just barely forget about her dead friends and failed attempt to escape. Looking down on Yukie and Sakura's corpses, the bitter reality around her started make cracks in her shield. These weren't even close to the brave warriors she was proclaiming them to be; just two normal girls who met a very grizzly fate. God, she even had to convince Hatagami to fish Yukie's head from the ocean because she was too creped-out to touch it.

        Inada sheathed her kitana and turned to Hatagami. “Want to add anything?”

        “Just a sec.” He dug into Sakura's bag, taking out the purse her beloved Yamamoto bought her. Even though Sakura hardly talked to any other guy, he had his share of how attached she was to that thing.

"Yeah, she'd probably want it that way." Inada couldn't help smiling as he gently tucked the purse into Sakura's arms as if it were a beloved childhood toy before yanking the identification tag off.

"In case we see Yamamoto again." His teammate nodded in agreement as he stuffed the tag in his pocket and went to join her at the end of the boat. Together they pushed the make-shift coffin, hardly saying a word as it gradually sank into the ocean.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." A sad, timid voice snatched their attention.

 

"Mayumi!" Hatagami cried out as his love, strained with splotches of blood and her own tears ran into his arms. "Thank God, you're still alive."

"I was so worried I wouldn't see you again." She buried her head into his chest as he stroked the back of her head.

"Hey, where's Shou?" Mayumi looked up at Inada; disappointed that she was the only other survivor.

 

"The Program got him." Once again, Mayumi forced herself to cry as she brought up the memory.

Looking back at it, it was a selfish, if not foolhardy thing to do to sacrifice her attempt to leave the island. Then again, if she never noticed the two men in camouflage gear waiting in the bushes, she probably still would've went along with Yukie's silly little dream. But there was one thing holding her back, the possibility that Hirono might win the game.

As much time had past, the Pink Team was fortunate enough to have only lost one member and even if they never met again, Hirono might let her sordid past out for the rest of the world to hear. If this game was going to kill her, Mayumi vowed that she would die without any regrets. And that's why Shou had to go.

 

Ah, it did her heart good to see him stumble and get plugged with a few rounds when she shoved him with all her might as soon as they got close enough to draw the two men's fire. The painful grunt he let out when the bullets ripped through him made her smile; sacrificing her chance to escape was so worth it.

"Mayumi..." Shou coughed up a spot of blood as he spoke, too concerned with his wounds and the looming figure making it's way toward him to realize how the blood was clashing with his uniform. "Help me."

"Uh, no." She chirped, playfully holding her hands behind her back, musing over his sorry state.

"Stop screwing around. They're going to kill us."

"You should've kept your mouth shut, Shou." She bent down and took his bag.

"Listen, I'm sorry for trying to blackmail you." Mayumi began humming a happy little tune as she relieved him of his weapons and rations. "Whatever you did, your secret's safe with me."

"Too late." She gave the bag a light toss, causing it to land on his head.

"So that's it?" The lack of blood had sapped him of the ability to push the bag from his face. "You're going to wreck your chance to escape just to let me die?"

"Bye-bye, Shou." Mayumi chirped, waving as if her teammate's grim situation wasn't happening.

 

"You bitch, get back here." With a skip, she walked off. He wasn't too sure how much time had past, but felt like an eon until he felt a pair of rough hands brush against his face as they lifted the bag from his face. An optimistic, joking side of him wanted to believe it was a sexy boy angel sent to remove him from this mortal coil. That was until he saw that familiar smirk upon his guest's eye-patch-wearing face. "Jaguar."

"Glad you remembered me." His former gym teacher placed one of his heavy boots upon Shou's torn and bloody chest. Shou struggled to talk, but the pressure on his chest only allowed a few spots of blood to come out. "Let's just say that it pays to have a brother-in-law working for The Program."

"Stop it, you're hurting him." Jaguar's partner, a kind-looking man in his late thirties, yelled out as the judoist sunk his foot in further.

"Fuck off, Soma." He turned and pointed his gun at his partner. "This is between me and the fag here." Shutting the other man up, he returned to Shou. "You see, when I found out your class was going to be drafted, I pulled a few strings to make sure I was there to see your boss croak." He briefly pointed to his eye patch during the last four words. "I would've liked to have killed him myself, but I'll just have to go to send that Yuko girl's family a nice bottle of wine after the game's over."

"F...fuck...y..." A final bullet was unloaded into Shou's head before he could even finish.

****

"I know you must think I'm a coward," Mayumi removed her face from Hatagami's chest. "But I had to warn you."

"It's ok." Hatagami wiped her tears away with the edge of his sleeve. "We might've lost you if you stayed."

"Thank you." She gently kissed him on the lips. "You know always know how to cheer me up."

PURPLE

 

"Yamamoto!" Yoshimi shouted, scurrying through the warehouse her teammate ran into. "Yamamoto!"

It was bound to happen sooner or later. The latest death call rang inside her head, "Girl #4 Sakura Ogawa, Boy #14 Shou Tsukioda, and Girl #2 Yukie Utsumi." But the when she heard Kamon's cruel laugh as he uttered the words, "You didn't think we'd let you kids escape that easily", it sent a sickening chill up her spine that almost made her vomit.

 

“There you are.” Yamamoto said dully when she finally found him with his back to her, standing near a corner.

 

“Oh Yamamoto, thank God.” Pushing aside her past fear, she ran over to hug him until he turned around. “What the hell is that?” She pointed at the noose he made with rope that was once resting on a shelf next to him.

 

“I've been doing some thinking.” Those delightful brown eyes of his were now devoid of the sparkle that she had grown to love. The color was still there, but all that remained was dead within seconds of hearing Sakura's name. “We can still escape.” He held out the noose, giving Yoshimi a better look. “I can make one for you.” All she could do was stare blankly at both him and his offer. “It doesn't take long. You'll get to be with Yoji again.” He saw a few tears run down her eyes as she slowly raised her right hand toward him and slapped him as hard as she could.

 

“You idiot!” She screamed ignoring the pain the slap caused her injured hand. “Do you think you're the only one who's hurting?”

 

“I…”

 

“You know how many times I've tried to put Yoji's gun to my head and blow my brains out when you weren't looking?”

 

“….”

 

Yoshimi let out an angry sigh. “It's always like that with you “good people.” You talk a good deal, but when it comes down to it, you're just as selfish as the scumbags you look down on.” A long-suppressed memory began to come back to her. “Not like your precious Sakura was any better.”

 

“And you don't think she felt bad about that?” He snapped back.

 

She just quietly gazed back at him. It was about nine months ago back in the eighth grade when it all started. One of Sakura's friends and lab partner was suck in bed with mono and since Yoshimi had already finished her circuit breaker, she offered Sakura her help. Being that this was before Yoshimi became the bad girl that the other girls would grow to hate and fear; she happily offered her help and the friendship the followed. Despite being too poor to afford most of the trends that Sakura's friends chased after, Yoshimi made up for it in her overall good cheer and desire to see anyone who called her friend happy.

 

“She told me everything, Yoshimi. How she wished she had the guts to stop those girls from hurting you.”

 

Yoshimi shivered at the memory. About a month after their friendship started, it came to an abrupt end when Sakura's other friends came into visit the two of them in girl's bathroom.

 

“What are you doing here?” Hana, the leader of Sakura's cliché, nearly spat words as her and the other girls crowded around Yoshimi as she brushed her hair.

 

“Picking my nose, what does it look like?” She forced her attention on getting her cheap black comb wet. She had enough of their nasty, disapproving looks every time she joined Sakura at lunch.

 

“Well we don't like you.” Fumi added, putting her hands to her hips. “You're trash.”

 

Yoshimi bit the insides of her cheeks to keep in every nasty comment she wanted to launch at them. She just knew Sakura would never forgive her if she called them the bitches she knew they were.

 

“Let's dump her with the rest of the garbage.”

 

“Yeah.” The other three girls said together as Fumi and Hana each grabbed an arm.

 

“Hey, let me go.” Yoshimi tried to pull away to no avail. “Sakura! Do something.” She turned to the stall her friend was occupying, but she might as well not been there. Even if the other girls' laughter hadn't filled the room as they threw her against the trashcan and dumped the contents on her head, she still wouldn't have heard a peep from Sakura. That was until the coast was clear and she came out of the stall with some toilet paper to wipe any mess or tears Yoshimi had on her only to realize that she was already gone.

 

“Then why didn't she say anything?” Back in the present Yoshimi stood there, demanding an answer.

 

“Because she was scared.”

 

“Scared of Mitsuko or scared of what her friends would think?”

 

“Scared of you rejecting her.” He sighed. “I know, I know. It's a pretty lousy excuse, but she never gave up hope on you.”

 

Yoshimi's sad little smile was the only answer he needed.

 

Taking a disgusted look at the noose in his hands, he threw it aside. “You're right; killing ourselves is not going to solve anything.” He took her by the hand as a slight bit of that earlier sparkle in his eyes began to return. “It may not be fair to the others, but we can still make it out of here.”

 

“That's all I wanted to hear.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly as she rested her head on his shoulder and hugged back. Sakura was gone, but Yoshimi was still in the land of the living along with him. He was there to comfort her when her beloved Yoji was killed and she was there to slap some sense into him when it was his turn to mourn. Even with all the lives that were tragically cut short around him, he was ready to face a hundred more just to live.

 

End of Chapter 12. 22 Students remain.