((Yoshio Akamatsu continued from Wish Away the Pain))
It was a relatively easy walk from the cliffs to this group of houses. All he needed to actually do was stay to the coasts, since many of the areas near there were now danger zones, keep at a steady pace, and not be seen. He had seen the lighthouse, with people there he wished to avoid, he had heard noises coming from what he assumed what the direction of the clinic, and now he was in these rows of houses, sitting right next to a danger zone.
He had to take notice of the announcements if he wanted to stay alive. He almost wandered into a danger zone on his way down from the cliffs, and all Yoshio would have been was a decapitated corpse with a gun. He couldn't die like that.
Finally stopping in his tracks, he found a relatively untouched house. It seemed as though there had been a struggle here, as the door was still ajar. He assumed it must have been from the people who used to live here. Not taking it in his mind, he strolled in, leaving the door wide open.
It was about two stories high, and looked relatively normal, almost like his house. There was an unpleasant smell coming from the kitchen, probably food that was left behind for months on end, a living room with clothes and, and upstairs was several bedrooms, on of them gathering large piles of dust. They hadn't had a soul in them for many ages, and so Yoshio decided to stop. He needed to sleep so much. Moving a chair from the large desk located across from the bed to the door, he locked the door, and jammed the chair under the knob. He needed safety and security. If anyone wanted to get in, they would need to shoot down the door.
Not even bothering removing his clothes, Yoshio Akamatsu dropped his bag and gun next to his bed, got under the covers of the bed, and dozed off.
Black Canvas
((Mitsuru Numai continued from Run To Your Love))
Mitsuru was still somewhat shaken up by the events at the reef as he headed into the residential district, Hiroshi and Kazuo he knew, not too far behind him. Although he didn't doubt the boss had done what was necessary, Mitsuru still felt that maybe killing Yamamoto hadn't been absolutely essential. Shooting him, firing a warning? That might have been better. (An' whose second-guessin' the Boss now, eh? Just gotta rely on him knowin' the score, Mitsuru. Ain't nothin' good gonna come of you questionin' him.)
Still... seeing somebody shot dead right in front of him hadn't exactly done Mitsuru's composure a lot of good.
In the middle of the street, Mitsuru stopped walking. He ought to give the others some time to catch up. In honesty, he wasn't sure why they'd headed here, what with the glut of surrounding dangerzones, but there had to be some sort of reasoning behind it. At the very least, the three of them could find somewhere to hole up and settle down. Sho and Ry were still unaccounted for, either by finding them or by the announcements, which was good in one way and bad in another. It meant that the rest of the Family was still alive, but at the same time... it meant that they were separated.
Mitsuru hoped they could find the other guys sooner rather than later.
(Strength in numbers an' all. The five of us together'd be unstoppable. Hardest of the hard. I hope only the three of us makin' it don't derail the boss's plan...) Mitsuru grinned to himself and shook his head, turning around to watch for Hiroshi and Kazuo. (What am I sayin'? He'll improvise, course he will. Just keep the faith an' we'll be fine.)
Mitsuru was still somewhat shaken up by the events at the reef as he headed into the residential district, Hiroshi and Kazuo he knew, not too far behind him. Although he didn't doubt the boss had done what was necessary, Mitsuru still felt that maybe killing Yamamoto hadn't been absolutely essential. Shooting him, firing a warning? That might have been better. (An' whose second-guessin' the Boss now, eh? Just gotta rely on him knowin' the score, Mitsuru. Ain't nothin' good gonna come of you questionin' him.)
Still... seeing somebody shot dead right in front of him hadn't exactly done Mitsuru's composure a lot of good.
In the middle of the street, Mitsuru stopped walking. He ought to give the others some time to catch up. In honesty, he wasn't sure why they'd headed here, what with the glut of surrounding dangerzones, but there had to be some sort of reasoning behind it. At the very least, the three of them could find somewhere to hole up and settle down. Sho and Ry were still unaccounted for, either by finding them or by the announcements, which was good in one way and bad in another. It meant that the rest of the Family was still alive, but at the same time... it meant that they were separated.
Mitsuru hoped they could find the other guys sooner rather than later.
(Strength in numbers an' all. The five of us together'd be unstoppable. Hardest of the hard. I hope only the three of us makin' it don't derail the boss's plan...) Mitsuru grinned to himself and shook his head, turning around to watch for Hiroshi and Kazuo. (What am I sayin'? He'll improvise, course he will. Just keep the faith an' we'll be fine.)
((Hiroshi Kuronaga continued from Run to Your Love))
Hiroshi wasn't exactly cut out for all this running. He wasn't the healthiest guy on earth, what with his large physique and everything, and he hadn't gotten a chance to rest ONCE after the fiasco back at the Reef. He had to concentrate hard in order to not fall over flat on his face from exhaustion, after all it felt as though he'd been running across the entirety of the island. Although, as the buildings of the residential district came into view, he realised this was not the case.
Christ, my feet are freakin' killing me... I better lose some damn weight by the end of all this, otherwise i'm gonna be even MORE pissed off...
Eventually he caught up with Mitsuru, and took the chance to catch his breath. "Jesus... Friggin'... Christ, you run fast... How's about slowing down next time?" He wheezed, half jokingly. After all, he really DID mean what he said. But at the same time, he couldn't really blame Mitsuru for wanting to get away from the beach in such a haste.
As he breathed heavily in and out, he squeezed his chest where a particularly painful cramp had appeared. As he held onto his shirt, and could feel Kazuhiko's dried blood as it crackled underneath his fingers. That brought up some unpleasant memories of what had transpired earlier, memories he'd rather not be reminded about so soon. He'd tried to not think much Kazuhiko's death. After all, the guy'd brought it upon himself, trying to grab his gun away from him and everything. But even so, something about it just didn't feel right. He was a violent guy alright, he'd caused his fair share of bloody noses and bruised bodies as a member of the Kiriyama Family. But... Not even HE was comfortable with the idea of going around, killing people just to play along with the government's seriously fucked-up idea for a source of entertainment.
He just prayed to whatever god there is that Kazuo felt the exact same way...
Hiroshi wasn't exactly cut out for all this running. He wasn't the healthiest guy on earth, what with his large physique and everything, and he hadn't gotten a chance to rest ONCE after the fiasco back at the Reef. He had to concentrate hard in order to not fall over flat on his face from exhaustion, after all it felt as though he'd been running across the entirety of the island. Although, as the buildings of the residential district came into view, he realised this was not the case.
Christ, my feet are freakin' killing me... I better lose some damn weight by the end of all this, otherwise i'm gonna be even MORE pissed off...
Eventually he caught up with Mitsuru, and took the chance to catch his breath. "Jesus... Friggin'... Christ, you run fast... How's about slowing down next time?" He wheezed, half jokingly. After all, he really DID mean what he said. But at the same time, he couldn't really blame Mitsuru for wanting to get away from the beach in such a haste.
As he breathed heavily in and out, he squeezed his chest where a particularly painful cramp had appeared. As he held onto his shirt, and could feel Kazuhiko's dried blood as it crackled underneath his fingers. That brought up some unpleasant memories of what had transpired earlier, memories he'd rather not be reminded about so soon. He'd tried to not think much Kazuhiko's death. After all, the guy'd brought it upon himself, trying to grab his gun away from him and everything. But even so, something about it just didn't feel right. He was a violent guy alright, he'd caused his fair share of bloody noses and bruised bodies as a member of the Kiriyama Family. But... Not even HE was comfortable with the idea of going around, killing people just to play along with the government's seriously fucked-up idea for a source of entertainment.
He just prayed to whatever god there is that Kazuo felt the exact same way...
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
It's often said that after a big ordeal, such as murdering someone, the mind goes through a complex series of events. Of course, Yoshio Akamatsu wasn't nearly bright enough to know exactly what entailed within that series of events, but he learned that people had bad dreams, victims haunting the killer, a guilty conscience trying to get the villain or bad guy to make him feel guilty.
For Yoshio, however, none of that actually happened.
For one thing, dreaming didn't work like that for him. Sure, the death of Megumi Eto was heavy on his mind, but he didn't have any dreams of her, or the two girls he left out to die at the cliff, or Shuuya dead on the classroom floor. His sleep was filled with stuff he actually wanted to dream about. He was at the Greater East Asia Grand Final Video Game Championships, and he was winning miles ahead of the other competitor. He was traveling the world, visiting the countries not enslaved by the government and living and learning there instead of in his country. He was beating up Hiroshi, and Ryuhei, and not being the loser of the class. He was a hero, saving all the kids from the program and his parents wer-
"Evening my little warriors! You're consistent, if nothing else. Another four souls joined the funeral march over the last six hours!"
Yoshio Akamatsu's eyes shot open, and he found himself tangled inside the covers of the bed. Leaning up and rubbing his eyes, he noticed how it had begun to get dark outside. It had to be 6pm, the third announcement. He had survived this long...all he had to do was wait it out, and...wait for the last person standing to die.
Not wasting any time, he threw the covers off the bed, withdrew the map from the bag, cleared the large desk in the corner of the room, picking up a scrap piece of paper while getting himself settled. He had to make sure that he could make himself well knowledgeable about everything he needed to know. Most of the other students, his friends out there, wouldn't have time to write down everything they needed. From such a secure spot, he could find out several things; The danger zones, marked clearly on his map so he could know where not to go; figure out from that evil sadistic man's comments who had lost themselves to the game; finally he could list...everyone left alive.
Writing the heading "Dead Classmates" on the very top of the page, his pencil faltered as he finished writing the second word. Classmates. Should he himself be on the first list? Had he become a part of the program, cold and calculative, refering to Yutaka, and Yuko, and Shuuya, and Fumiyo, and everyone else probably dead at this time, as...something that could simply be listed? These people had lives! Dreams! Love! Hope! How could he just do that to them, reduce them to statistics? Shaking his head of that thought, he started to think of something more serious.
I'm turning into Kazuo Kiriyama. All the time at school I never once saw him smile, or even frown. He's probably killed half the people dead out there by now, and thought nothing of it! What if I turn into him?
Listening back to the announcements, his eyes flew open at the first name. Mayumi. How...how could she have died? He was okay when he left her and Izumi at the cliffs! What could have happened? Did someone find them?
Yoshio listened to the rest of the announcement, taking in note the rest of the dead students, and the danger zones. There were so many around him now- north, south, south-east of him- If he was trapped here, he was basically a goner.
Within another few minutes, Yoshio had filled up the list of dead classmates with everyone he caught. 16 of his friends, his enemies, people he never got the opportunity to know, were gone now. He was one of the lucky 26 to still be alive. He had to relish in that fact. He was alive.
Though a nagging voice at the back of his head told him it wouldn't be for much longer.
His head still heavy, he walked back to the side of the bed, and sifted through the contents of his bag. He was thirsty. He pulled out a bottle of water, downed it quickly, and dropped the bottle beside him. Sifting through again, he found his handheld game, and stared at it for a moment. This thing, to everyone out there listening, represented what he was. Just an Otaku. A doofus who had his head in the clouds and no basis on reality. Breathing in a long, deep breathe, he walked over to the side of the room, silently pulled the window up, and, breathing in the air coming off the sea, threw the tiny game as far as he could muster...
...straight towards Hiroshi Kuronaga and Mitsuru Numai.
The moment he saw another one of his classmates, he jumped back from the window.
Oh god, they're gonna find me! No! Not the Kiriyama Family!
There was not a doubt in his mind that they were playing. They were a gang, they supported each other. Hell, they probably killed everyone dead already apart from...Megumi. For the umpteenth time that day, he fell flat on his ass. Scrambling around the room, he found the gun he took from Mayumi and clenched it in his hands.
If he was going to die tonight, he wasn't going down without a fight. It was about to get real.
For Yoshio, however, none of that actually happened.
For one thing, dreaming didn't work like that for him. Sure, the death of Megumi Eto was heavy on his mind, but he didn't have any dreams of her, or the two girls he left out to die at the cliff, or Shuuya dead on the classroom floor. His sleep was filled with stuff he actually wanted to dream about. He was at the Greater East Asia Grand Final Video Game Championships, and he was winning miles ahead of the other competitor. He was traveling the world, visiting the countries not enslaved by the government and living and learning there instead of in his country. He was beating up Hiroshi, and Ryuhei, and not being the loser of the class. He was a hero, saving all the kids from the program and his parents wer-
"Evening my little warriors! You're consistent, if nothing else. Another four souls joined the funeral march over the last six hours!"
Yoshio Akamatsu's eyes shot open, and he found himself tangled inside the covers of the bed. Leaning up and rubbing his eyes, he noticed how it had begun to get dark outside. It had to be 6pm, the third announcement. He had survived this long...all he had to do was wait it out, and...wait for the last person standing to die.
Not wasting any time, he threw the covers off the bed, withdrew the map from the bag, cleared the large desk in the corner of the room, picking up a scrap piece of paper while getting himself settled. He had to make sure that he could make himself well knowledgeable about everything he needed to know. Most of the other students, his friends out there, wouldn't have time to write down everything they needed. From such a secure spot, he could find out several things; The danger zones, marked clearly on his map so he could know where not to go; figure out from that evil sadistic man's comments who had lost themselves to the game; finally he could list...everyone left alive.
Writing the heading "Dead Classmates" on the very top of the page, his pencil faltered as he finished writing the second word. Classmates. Should he himself be on the first list? Had he become a part of the program, cold and calculative, refering to Yutaka, and Yuko, and Shuuya, and Fumiyo, and everyone else probably dead at this time, as...something that could simply be listed? These people had lives! Dreams! Love! Hope! How could he just do that to them, reduce them to statistics? Shaking his head of that thought, he started to think of something more serious.
I'm turning into Kazuo Kiriyama. All the time at school I never once saw him smile, or even frown. He's probably killed half the people dead out there by now, and thought nothing of it! What if I turn into him?
Listening back to the announcements, his eyes flew open at the first name. Mayumi. How...how could she have died? He was okay when he left her and Izumi at the cliffs! What could have happened? Did someone find them?
Yoshio listened to the rest of the announcement, taking in note the rest of the dead students, and the danger zones. There were so many around him now- north, south, south-east of him- If he was trapped here, he was basically a goner.
Within another few minutes, Yoshio had filled up the list of dead classmates with everyone he caught. 16 of his friends, his enemies, people he never got the opportunity to know, were gone now. He was one of the lucky 26 to still be alive. He had to relish in that fact. He was alive.
Though a nagging voice at the back of his head told him it wouldn't be for much longer.
His head still heavy, he walked back to the side of the bed, and sifted through the contents of his bag. He was thirsty. He pulled out a bottle of water, downed it quickly, and dropped the bottle beside him. Sifting through again, he found his handheld game, and stared at it for a moment. This thing, to everyone out there listening, represented what he was. Just an Otaku. A doofus who had his head in the clouds and no basis on reality. Breathing in a long, deep breathe, he walked over to the side of the room, silently pulled the window up, and, breathing in the air coming off the sea, threw the tiny game as far as he could muster...
...straight towards Hiroshi Kuronaga and Mitsuru Numai.
The moment he saw another one of his classmates, he jumped back from the window.
Oh god, they're gonna find me! No! Not the Kiriyama Family!
There was not a doubt in his mind that they were playing. They were a gang, they supported each other. Hell, they probably killed everyone dead already apart from...Megumi. For the umpteenth time that day, he fell flat on his ass. Scrambling around the room, he found the gun he took from Mayumi and clenched it in his hands.
If he was going to die tonight, he wasn't going down without a fight. It was about to get real.
Despite himself, Mitsuru couldn't really help but crack a smile as Hiroshi came puffing up. Bringing up the rear of the Family, story of the guy's life. For all the brawling and physical activity they all did, 'Roshi just couldn't seem to shift that gut of his. It didn't make the guy any less tough (Course not, Hiro' clocks in at a smooth number three. In fronta' Sho and Ry, behind me an' the boss. I'd back even Ry over any one of these pussies... hope that kid's doin' okay...), but it certainly made him cumbersome. As a matter of fact, Mitsuru was slightly surprised that his buddy had got there in front of Kazuo, but he figured the boss probably had slowed down deliberately. Maybe he was making sure they weren't being followed or something. Whatever the reason, Mitsuru was sure it had to be a good one.
Mitsuru clapped his friend on the shoulder once he drew alongside him, his grin broadening. "I ain't running so fast, Hiro', you've just got a lot more weighin' you down than me," if Mitsuru was to be honest, he would probably say that his best camaraderie within the Family was with Hiroshi. Kazuo, well, he wasn't there to be your buddy, he was there to give the orders - maybe even look up to. Ry', Mitsuru liked well enough, but the guy could be as dumb as a rock sometimes, didn't know how to pick his fights. (Not sayin' there's guys out there we couldn't beat, just that there's, y'know, a right time an' a right place for it.) Sho... Sho was Sho, enough said. Hiroshi though? Solid guy, kinda smart, maybe moreso than he himself - if not tougher, but really just the type of person that Mitsuru liked hanging out with.
Still, for all those thoughts of friendship, this wasn't an ideal time to be getting mushy. Mitsuru's smile faded and he dropped his arm. "We 'ought to wait for a bit though. The boss must've had somethin' in mind. Don't wanna split the group anymore than it is already," Mitsuru looked up the street, then reluctantly palmed his gun. "Look, we should keep an eye out. You head up th-"
Bonk.
Something smacked Hiroshi in the head and went skittering across the street. Mitsuru looked down, confused, then found his eyebrow rising when he picked out the object as... a handheld game. What the fuck!? Mitsuru's head snapped up to sweep the houses around, and he could have sworn he saw movement behind one of the windows.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Somebody's out there!" Mitsuru clenched his gun tighter. Whoever it was, they couldn't be too smart if they'd attacked with a game of all things... put him in mind of Akamatsu. (Well fuck. Last thing we need is that fucktard complicatin' things...)
Mitsuru clapped his friend on the shoulder once he drew alongside him, his grin broadening. "I ain't running so fast, Hiro', you've just got a lot more weighin' you down than me," if Mitsuru was to be honest, he would probably say that his best camaraderie within the Family was with Hiroshi. Kazuo, well, he wasn't there to be your buddy, he was there to give the orders - maybe even look up to. Ry', Mitsuru liked well enough, but the guy could be as dumb as a rock sometimes, didn't know how to pick his fights. (Not sayin' there's guys out there we couldn't beat, just that there's, y'know, a right time an' a right place for it.) Sho... Sho was Sho, enough said. Hiroshi though? Solid guy, kinda smart, maybe moreso than he himself - if not tougher, but really just the type of person that Mitsuru liked hanging out with.
Still, for all those thoughts of friendship, this wasn't an ideal time to be getting mushy. Mitsuru's smile faded and he dropped his arm. "We 'ought to wait for a bit though. The boss must've had somethin' in mind. Don't wanna split the group anymore than it is already," Mitsuru looked up the street, then reluctantly palmed his gun. "Look, we should keep an eye out. You head up th-"
Bonk.
Something smacked Hiroshi in the head and went skittering across the street. Mitsuru looked down, confused, then found his eyebrow rising when he picked out the object as... a handheld game. What the fuck!? Mitsuru's head snapped up to sweep the houses around, and he could have sworn he saw movement behind one of the windows.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Somebody's out there!" Mitsuru clenched his gun tighter. Whoever it was, they couldn't be too smart if they'd attacked with a game of all things... put him in mind of Akamatsu. (Well fuck. Last thing we need is that fucktard complicatin' things...)
((Kazuo Kiriyama, continued from Run to Your Love.))
Kazuo looked around, before checking his map and marking off the Residential District on the areas he'd been to. It was just a small activity to try and halt his boredom along the way. Kazuo had to admit that the journey would've been much more interesting if he were planning on killing the rest of the family, but he wasn't going against the coin and they had their uses. For all his skill in other areas, Kazuo admitted his conversational skills were... lacking.
"..." Kazuo looked around, listening to the announcement. "Sho and Ryuhei must still be alive. We will make it a priority to find them."
Kazuo walked around, checking the houses through the windows. Everything was empty, it was fairly obvious to Kiriyama that the only people in the Residential District were him, Hiroshi and Mitsur-
BONK.
Kazuo turned around and looked for the source of the noise, identifying the cause as the handheld games device Mitsuru was holding. As Kiriyama looked up, he caught a glimpse of someone on the upper floor.
"That came from the window of that house." Kiriyama said, pointing and retrieving the Browning.
"We need to move, this is a bad place to stand if they have a firearm."
Kazuo looked around, before checking his map and marking off the Residential District on the areas he'd been to. It was just a small activity to try and halt his boredom along the way. Kazuo had to admit that the journey would've been much more interesting if he were planning on killing the rest of the family, but he wasn't going against the coin and they had their uses. For all his skill in other areas, Kazuo admitted his conversational skills were... lacking.
"..." Kazuo looked around, listening to the announcement. "Sho and Ryuhei must still be alive. We will make it a priority to find them."
Kazuo walked around, checking the houses through the windows. Everything was empty, it was fairly obvious to Kiriyama that the only people in the Residential District were him, Hiroshi and Mitsur-
BONK.
Kazuo turned around and looked for the source of the noise, identifying the cause as the handheld games device Mitsuru was holding. As Kiriyama looked up, he caught a glimpse of someone on the upper floor.
"That came from the window of that house." Kiriyama said, pointing and retrieving the Browning.
"We need to move, this is a bad place to stand if they have a firearm."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
Hiroshi grinned back at his friend and comrade as he made a joke regarding his weight. Anyone else would have probably received a punch to the face by now; after all whilst he wasn’t exactly sensitive about his physique he still didn’t like people making quips about it. But within the Kiriyama Family, he had no problems. After all, friends do that kinda thing once in a while. And if there were anyone he’d ever classify as friends, it’d have to be the Family (Mitsuru and Ry especially). Sure, they went around getting into fights an’ shit, but never once had there been a time when one of them wasn’t there to watch the other’s back, or help out whenever one of them was getting beat on. Hell, even during the more normal times, like whenever they just liked to hang out with nothing but a couple of brewskies and a packet of cigarettes, they always looked out for one another, and made damn sure none of them (Even Sho, whenever he was interested) was ever left out of anything. (Damn, come to think of it, I could really use with a smoke right about now…)
“Heh, tell me about it…” He replied after he’d stopped wheezing. It was good to see that, even with all the crazy shit that’s happening at the moment that Mitsuru hadn’t lost his cool. Hiroshi wished he could say the same, but with all the stuff that was happening around him he found it hard staying cool and in control. Not that anyone would notice based on outward appearance, but he was definitely shaken by the turn of events.
"We 'ought to wait for a bit though. The boss must've had somethin' in mind. Don't wanna split the group anymore than it is already,"
Hiroshi nodded in approval, and sure enough the big man himself came along, barely even taking any notice of them.
"Sho and Ryuhei must still be alive. We will make it a priority to find them."
"Yeah..." They better be… Admittedly, he was still greatly concerned as to the whereabouts of the two. Especially Ryuhei, seeing as Sho could almost certainly look after himself. But Ryuhei was vulnerable, alone, possibly even wounded. He was certain that, unless they caught up with the guy soon, the poor bastard won’t live to see the end of the day… Stay safe Ry... We'll find you eventually, don't you worry.
"Look, we should keep an eye out. You head up th-"
BONK!
Seemingly out of noware, Hiroshi felt a surge of pain as something small and hard smacked him in the side of his head, throwing him somewhat off-balance. “Argh! Jesus! What the SHIT?!?”. He grasped the side of his head with his hand, feeling temporarily dizzy after what he now realised was a handheld gaming device had hit him.
"Fuck, Somebody's out there!" shouted Mitsuru as he clenched his gun, prompting Hiroshi to do the same. This is not good… Not fucking good at all…
"That came from the window of that house. We need to move, this is a bad place to stand if they have a firearm."
The boss had a good point. Although, if they had a gun, why the hell didn’t they just fire at them? Throwing a handheld game didn’t make any sense… Then again, nothing on this island made any sense.
Even so, he still made sure to get into some cover behind an abandoned car which must have belonged to one of the former inhabitants of the island. He motioned the others to come take cover alongside him. I don’t know what this son of a bitch is playing at, but if he thinks he can take the Family all by himself he’s got quite a surprise waiting in store for him…
He looked out towards the general direction of the house as he kneeled behind the car, aiming his pistol at the window he assumed Kazuo had been reffering to. "Alright, show yourself! We're not playing, you hear me? WE'RE NOT PLAYING!" He shouted at the window. He added the last sentance at the end as an afterthought. After all, the last thing he wanted was for this situation to get out of hand and become another unnecessary bloodbath.
“Heh, tell me about it…” He replied after he’d stopped wheezing. It was good to see that, even with all the crazy shit that’s happening at the moment that Mitsuru hadn’t lost his cool. Hiroshi wished he could say the same, but with all the stuff that was happening around him he found it hard staying cool and in control. Not that anyone would notice based on outward appearance, but he was definitely shaken by the turn of events.
"We 'ought to wait for a bit though. The boss must've had somethin' in mind. Don't wanna split the group anymore than it is already,"
Hiroshi nodded in approval, and sure enough the big man himself came along, barely even taking any notice of them.
"Sho and Ryuhei must still be alive. We will make it a priority to find them."
"Yeah..." They better be… Admittedly, he was still greatly concerned as to the whereabouts of the two. Especially Ryuhei, seeing as Sho could almost certainly look after himself. But Ryuhei was vulnerable, alone, possibly even wounded. He was certain that, unless they caught up with the guy soon, the poor bastard won’t live to see the end of the day… Stay safe Ry... We'll find you eventually, don't you worry.
"Look, we should keep an eye out. You head up th-"
BONK!
Seemingly out of noware, Hiroshi felt a surge of pain as something small and hard smacked him in the side of his head, throwing him somewhat off-balance. “Argh! Jesus! What the SHIT?!?”. He grasped the side of his head with his hand, feeling temporarily dizzy after what he now realised was a handheld gaming device had hit him.
"Fuck, Somebody's out there!" shouted Mitsuru as he clenched his gun, prompting Hiroshi to do the same. This is not good… Not fucking good at all…
"That came from the window of that house. We need to move, this is a bad place to stand if they have a firearm."
The boss had a good point. Although, if they had a gun, why the hell didn’t they just fire at them? Throwing a handheld game didn’t make any sense… Then again, nothing on this island made any sense.
Even so, he still made sure to get into some cover behind an abandoned car which must have belonged to one of the former inhabitants of the island. He motioned the others to come take cover alongside him. I don’t know what this son of a bitch is playing at, but if he thinks he can take the Family all by himself he’s got quite a surprise waiting in store for him…
He looked out towards the general direction of the house as he kneeled behind the car, aiming his pistol at the window he assumed Kazuo had been reffering to. "Alright, show yourself! We're not playing, you hear me? WE'RE NOT PLAYING!" He shouted at the window. He added the last sentance at the end as an afterthought. After all, the last thing he wanted was for this situation to get out of hand and become another unnecessary bloodbath.
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Yoshio slid underneath the window frame, hearing the effect of him throwing his gaming device right at the Kiriyama family. God, it was going to get real, wasn't it? Someone was going to die today.
Not me. I'm gonna live.
Voices were coming up from the street. Mitsuru, second in command of the gang, was yelling.
"Fuck, Somebody's out there!"
Someone else joined in as well. It wasn't Ryuhei or that other one, the one in make-up and stuff.
"Alright, show yourself! We're not playing, you hear me? WE'RE NOT PLAYING!"
Yoshio almost laughed at the irony that was trying to present itself. The Kiriyama Family, the only violent people on the island (well, violent guys anyway...), not playing? That was star-level bullcrap and Yoshio knew it. Not playing? He wasn't a stupid schoolkid anymore, was he? He was a stupid schoolkid with a gun, and they were about to realise that they shouldn't play games with stupid doofuses with guns.
Standing up out of view, he got beside the window, and, making sure he wasn't in harms way, opened the window from the side. They couldn't snipe him from here, unless Kiriyama had x-ray vision and could see through walls: he wouldn't put it past him.
Then, in an act of recklessness he would probably later regret, he spun around to face the street, and before anyone could react, Yoshio Akamatsu started yelling back at them.
"N-not playing? AM I REALLY SUPPOSED TO BELIVE THAT?"
The gun held towards his chest and aimed at a certain classmate, fired towards the closest member: Mitsuru Numai.
No regrets or anything. They wouldn't let you live if they could.
Not me. I'm gonna live.
Voices were coming up from the street. Mitsuru, second in command of the gang, was yelling.
"Fuck, Somebody's out there!"
Someone else joined in as well. It wasn't Ryuhei or that other one, the one in make-up and stuff.
"Alright, show yourself! We're not playing, you hear me? WE'RE NOT PLAYING!"
Yoshio almost laughed at the irony that was trying to present itself. The Kiriyama Family, the only violent people on the island (well, violent guys anyway...), not playing? That was star-level bullcrap and Yoshio knew it. Not playing? He wasn't a stupid schoolkid anymore, was he? He was a stupid schoolkid with a gun, and they were about to realise that they shouldn't play games with stupid doofuses with guns.
Standing up out of view, he got beside the window, and, making sure he wasn't in harms way, opened the window from the side. They couldn't snipe him from here, unless Kiriyama had x-ray vision and could see through walls: he wouldn't put it past him.
Then, in an act of recklessness he would probably later regret, he spun around to face the street, and before anyone could react, Yoshio Akamatsu started yelling back at them.
"N-not playing? AM I REALLY SUPPOSED TO BELIVE THAT?"
The gun held towards his chest and aimed at a certain classmate, fired towards the closest member: Mitsuru Numai.
No regrets or anything. They wouldn't let you live if they could.
Mitsuru just barely had time to register a deranged yell from the window that the game had come from when Akamatsu - Akamatsu of all the fucking people, popped up and sprayed the trio with bullets. (Shit man, get your fucking head down!)
Diving for cover, Mitsuru thought he'd made it when an excruciating bolt of pain ripped through his lower back, causing him to cry out then immediately chastise himself for it. (Hey, I'm hard. I can d-deal with this!) Rolling behind the same car as Hiroshi, Mitsuru, with effort, flashed his buddy a smile.
Then he looked down and swore.
That... was a fuck of a lot of blood.
Oh shit.
Diving for cover, Mitsuru thought he'd made it when an excruciating bolt of pain ripped through his lower back, causing him to cry out then immediately chastise himself for it. (Hey, I'm hard. I can d-deal with this!) Rolling behind the same car as Hiroshi, Mitsuru, with effort, flashed his buddy a smile.
Then he looked down and swore.
That... was a fuck of a lot of blood.
Oh shit.
Hiroshi waited for a while, hoping dearly that it was a simple mistake and that whoever had thrown it didn’t want a fight. Whilst at first it seemed as if no one was there, he was surprised to see none other than Yoshio Akamatsu appear at a window right next to the one Hiroshi was aiming at. Akamatsu? As in “Man-Tits” Akamatsu? Huh, guess that explains the video game…
"N-not playing? AM I REALLY SUPPOSED TO BELIVE THAT?"
That was when he noticed the gun the big otaku had in his hand. A comparatively large MAC-10 submachine gun. A far deadlier weapon than any of the relatively puny pistols the family had. And, to make matters worse, Akamatsu had decided to make good use of it against them.
“SHIT!” He screamed as he ducked down behind the car, clenching his own gun hard as he listened to the bullits hit the nearby pavement. He waited until Akamatsu’s burst of fire had ended before briefly getting up to fire four shots in Akamatsu’s general direction. He doubted that any of them would hit, but at least it’d put the fat bastard on his toes.
As he looked over to his right to find Mitsuru taking cover next to him, a wave of relief washed over him. Phew! And for a second there I thought Mitsuru got hit or somethin’…
That was when he noticed the blood.
Mitsuru HAD been hit, and badly. Blood seemed to be pouring from his wound, soaking his clothes and the floor around him. Hiroshi still hadn’t gotten used to seeing Kazuhiko shot by Kazuo, or hell even witnessing Shuuya getting wasted in front of the entire class! So to see one of his best buddies in a similar condition got Hiroshi more than a little concerned.
“MITSURU!” He exclaimed as he shuffled over in order to take a better look at Mitsuru’s injury. Needless to say, it looked and smelled even worse up-close. He took off his jacket and tried to use it as a makeshift cloth to stem the bleeding, although somehow he could tell that it wouldn’t do much good against a wound as bad as Mitsuru’s. “Jesus Christ man… Just hang in there! Once we deal with fatso we can look for someplace with medical supplies. You know, bandages an’ shit… Just… Just stay cool alright? Everything’s gonna be ok!”
He tried his best to not show just how concerned he really was, but under the circumstances that was easier said then done. He wasn’t a doctor, but he could tell whether or not an injury was either bad, or REALLY bad. And on this occasion Mitsuru’s injury happened to be the latter.
Dammit Mitsuru! Don’t you go fucking dying on me! We didn’t get this far just to get separated by some otaku fucktard like Akamatsu…
"N-not playing? AM I REALLY SUPPOSED TO BELIVE THAT?"
That was when he noticed the gun the big otaku had in his hand. A comparatively large MAC-10 submachine gun. A far deadlier weapon than any of the relatively puny pistols the family had. And, to make matters worse, Akamatsu had decided to make good use of it against them.
“SHIT!” He screamed as he ducked down behind the car, clenching his own gun hard as he listened to the bullits hit the nearby pavement. He waited until Akamatsu’s burst of fire had ended before briefly getting up to fire four shots in Akamatsu’s general direction. He doubted that any of them would hit, but at least it’d put the fat bastard on his toes.
As he looked over to his right to find Mitsuru taking cover next to him, a wave of relief washed over him. Phew! And for a second there I thought Mitsuru got hit or somethin’…
That was when he noticed the blood.
Mitsuru HAD been hit, and badly. Blood seemed to be pouring from his wound, soaking his clothes and the floor around him. Hiroshi still hadn’t gotten used to seeing Kazuhiko shot by Kazuo, or hell even witnessing Shuuya getting wasted in front of the entire class! So to see one of his best buddies in a similar condition got Hiroshi more than a little concerned.
“MITSURU!” He exclaimed as he shuffled over in order to take a better look at Mitsuru’s injury. Needless to say, it looked and smelled even worse up-close. He took off his jacket and tried to use it as a makeshift cloth to stem the bleeding, although somehow he could tell that it wouldn’t do much good against a wound as bad as Mitsuru’s. “Jesus Christ man… Just hang in there! Once we deal with fatso we can look for someplace with medical supplies. You know, bandages an’ shit… Just… Just stay cool alright? Everything’s gonna be ok!”
He tried his best to not show just how concerned he really was, but under the circumstances that was easier said then done. He wasn’t a doctor, but he could tell whether or not an injury was either bad, or REALLY bad. And on this occasion Mitsuru’s injury happened to be the latter.
Dammit Mitsuru! Don’t you go fucking dying on me! We didn’t get this far just to get separated by some otaku fucktard like Akamatsu…
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010
Collapsing with his back against the car, Mitsuru could feel the blood from the injury soaking through his shirt at an alarming rate. It hurt like hell, but at the same time, in a weird way he felt altogether detached from the sensations. Perhaps because his head was telling him that this was a lethal wound. He had some more pressing concerns than screaming like a little kid.
Mitsuru shook his head and held up his hand at his buddy's attempted minstrations. He'd seen the gunshot wound, he could feel the pain. Without professional medical attention, he was done for, and it didn't look as if there was an ambulance hiding around any of the street corners. (Don't cry though. Gotta keep tough. Jeez, gettin' knocked off by Akamatsu is embarrassin' enough...).
"Hiro'" Mitsuru muttered through gritted teeth. "Don't waste your energy bro'... don't want that fuck to tag you too." (Fuckin' tard. If he'd just listened... dammit. Some way for a hard bastard like me to be goin' out.)
And whose fault is that, eh? Who was s'posed to be leadin' us all outta this mess? ...The boss, that's who. So much for his smarts. If he had the master plan, then why in the fuck has everythin' gone all to shit? Mitsuru thought about that one a moment, staring straight through Hiroshi. Fuck. What if he was just playin' us the whole time? Must've thought the gang was plenty good a shield. Fuckin' played for fools!
The blood loss was making him delirious and what would have been inconceivable not too long ago now seemed like a very real possibility. Mitsuru painstakingly managed to pull himself to his feet, using the car for support and leaving a bloody smear on it. Turning to Hiroshi, he forced a smile that was more of a grimace.
"Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro."
Vision blurred, Mitsuru raised his luger and pointed it towards Kazuo's back. He wasn't getting away with this.
"Surprise," he murmured, pulling the trigger once, twice, three times. The delinquent's eyes swam and dark blotches obscured most of his sight as he swayed, fired one last time, then crumpled to the ground.
(Ha! Who's... hard... now...?)
Ninth Grade/Class B - BOY #17: MITSURU NUMAI: ELIMINATED
23 STUDENTS REMAINING
Mitsuru shook his head and held up his hand at his buddy's attempted minstrations. He'd seen the gunshot wound, he could feel the pain. Without professional medical attention, he was done for, and it didn't look as if there was an ambulance hiding around any of the street corners. (Don't cry though. Gotta keep tough. Jeez, gettin' knocked off by Akamatsu is embarrassin' enough...).
"Hiro'" Mitsuru muttered through gritted teeth. "Don't waste your energy bro'... don't want that fuck to tag you too." (Fuckin' tard. If he'd just listened... dammit. Some way for a hard bastard like me to be goin' out.)
And whose fault is that, eh? Who was s'posed to be leadin' us all outta this mess? ...The boss, that's who. So much for his smarts. If he had the master plan, then why in the fuck has everythin' gone all to shit? Mitsuru thought about that one a moment, staring straight through Hiroshi. Fuck. What if he was just playin' us the whole time? Must've thought the gang was plenty good a shield. Fuckin' played for fools!
The blood loss was making him delirious and what would have been inconceivable not too long ago now seemed like a very real possibility. Mitsuru painstakingly managed to pull himself to his feet, using the car for support and leaving a bloody smear on it. Turning to Hiroshi, he forced a smile that was more of a grimace.
"Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro."
Vision blurred, Mitsuru raised his luger and pointed it towards Kazuo's back. He wasn't getting away with this.
"Surprise," he murmured, pulling the trigger once, twice, three times. The delinquent's eyes swam and dark blotches obscured most of his sight as he swayed, fired one last time, then crumpled to the ground.
(Ha! Who's... hard... now...?)
Ninth Grade/Class B - BOY #17: MITSURU NUMAI: ELIMINATED
23 STUDENTS REMAINING
Yoshio's plan seemed to have worked; namely, the plan to kill off the people who now posed a serious threat to him. He had fired at the nearest member, Mitsuru, the number 2 in the gang, and it had worked. He had hit him. But now the other one fired at him, so he had to duck quickly, as one of the bullets seemed to not go wild, and shattered the remnants of the window above him.
Oh crap, OH CRAP!!!
Lurching over to the door, he fumbled with the chair, until he managed to wrench it out from under the doorknob, and chucked it across the room. He ran down the hallway, bag in left, very large gun in right, and almost tripped hurtling down the stairs; now that would have been a humiliating way to go.
Making sure that his gun was rested in his hands, he lurched open the front door, ready to run, and get out of there. If they had guns, and were much better shots, he wouldn't stand a chance if the chances were that their guns could shoot through walls.
The only thing he wasn't prepared for, was actually getting shot.
Hiroshi had fired directly at...his boss? He didn't have time to question, as one of the bullets had gone straight through him and lodged itself in his left shoulder blade, knocking him down.
The pain was immense, as though thousands of pieces of glass had chosen to lodge itself in his body, and were now stabbing in. He was in pure agony, and screamed at the top of his lungs, clutching his gun hand over the wound. But after several seconds of writhing, he remembered...he was still in the middle of a battle, and the odds were down for him.
Yoshio lifted his gun arm up, his left side still in pure unconcentrated pain from the wound, and aimed at the other one in the group. He couldn't shoot him now, not yet. He just had to let him know not to mess with him. His voice croaking from the pain, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You see what I did? YOU SEE WHAT I DID? I CAN WIN THIS GAME AND THEY CAN'T ANYMORE! I WILL GET OFF OF HERE, AND NO ONE WILL CALL ME A DOOFUS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!"
Oh crap, OH CRAP!!!
Lurching over to the door, he fumbled with the chair, until he managed to wrench it out from under the doorknob, and chucked it across the room. He ran down the hallway, bag in left, very large gun in right, and almost tripped hurtling down the stairs; now that would have been a humiliating way to go.
Making sure that his gun was rested in his hands, he lurched open the front door, ready to run, and get out of there. If they had guns, and were much better shots, he wouldn't stand a chance if the chances were that their guns could shoot through walls.
The only thing he wasn't prepared for, was actually getting shot.
Hiroshi had fired directly at...his boss? He didn't have time to question, as one of the bullets had gone straight through him and lodged itself in his left shoulder blade, knocking him down.
The pain was immense, as though thousands of pieces of glass had chosen to lodge itself in his body, and were now stabbing in. He was in pure agony, and screamed at the top of his lungs, clutching his gun hand over the wound. But after several seconds of writhing, he remembered...he was still in the middle of a battle, and the odds were down for him.
Yoshio lifted his gun arm up, his left side still in pure unconcentrated pain from the wound, and aimed at the other one in the group. He couldn't shoot him now, not yet. He just had to let him know not to mess with him. His voice croaking from the pain, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You see what I did? YOU SEE WHAT I DID? I CAN WIN THIS GAME AND THEY CAN'T ANYMORE! I WILL GET OFF OF HERE, AND NO ONE WILL CALL ME A DOOFUS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!"
"..." Kazuo looked for Akamatsu, who seemingly vanished. He was focused on finding him. Afterall, he had just taken down one of the members of the gang. The Kiriyama Family, and he was getting used to having the two simpletons to back him up.
Well, Three if Sho stopped hiding in the shadows and acting like Kiriyama hadn't already noticed him.
As Akamatsu ran out of the building with the gun, Kazuo aimed his gun at his kneecaps. He was hoping to disarm him, for the sole purpose of showing him he wasn't playing. That would be something he wouldn't expect.
However, what Kiriyama wasn't expecting was Numai shooting him in the back.
"...!" Kiriyama jerked the gun's trigger, before firing off rounds as he fell, emptying the gun's magazine in the general direction of Akamatsu.
Kiriyama crawled over to Mitsuru and checked his pulse, making sure he was dead, before collapsing to the floor, gasping for air.
"it... hurts." He said, looking down at the bloodstains on all of his clothes. For all of the fights he'd been in, Kiriyama had never been shot before. The sudden rush of adrenaline, and emotions flooding back into his brain were overwhelming.
Knowing he had about a few seconds left before he died, he looked towards Hiroshi, before saying. "The family... is over."
Kiriyama spent his last few moments wondering what might have been if the coin had landed on tails.
Ninth Grade/Class B - BOY #06: KAZUO KIRIYAMA: ELIMINATED
22 STUDENTS REMAINING
Well, Three if Sho stopped hiding in the shadows and acting like Kiriyama hadn't already noticed him.
As Akamatsu ran out of the building with the gun, Kazuo aimed his gun at his kneecaps. He was hoping to disarm him, for the sole purpose of showing him he wasn't playing. That would be something he wouldn't expect.
However, what Kiriyama wasn't expecting was Numai shooting him in the back.
"...!" Kiriyama jerked the gun's trigger, before firing off rounds as he fell, emptying the gun's magazine in the general direction of Akamatsu.
Kiriyama crawled over to Mitsuru and checked his pulse, making sure he was dead, before collapsing to the floor, gasping for air.
"it... hurts." He said, looking down at the bloodstains on all of his clothes. For all of the fights he'd been in, Kiriyama had never been shot before. The sudden rush of adrenaline, and emotions flooding back into his brain were overwhelming.
Knowing he had about a few seconds left before he died, he looked towards Hiroshi, before saying. "The family... is over."
Kiriyama spent his last few moments wondering what might have been if the coin had landed on tails.
Ninth Grade/Class B - BOY #06: KAZUO KIRIYAMA: ELIMINATED
22 STUDENTS REMAINING
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
-
Grim Wolf*
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Wed Aug 22, 2018 6:36 pm
(Sho Tsukioka continued from Run To Your Love)
He hadn't been following them.
Oh, he'd wanted too, soon enough. It had seemed like a terribly sweet idea, when he'd first left--leave the Family to look after themselves, and in the meantime try and see what he could do. But as he'd run for the past...how long had it been? Twelve hours? Eighteen?--he'd felt more and more oppressed.
He hated this place. And with every series of gunshots, ever chance corpse left unburied, every maroon stain left here and there upon the ground he hated it more.
He'd slept, for a little while; fitfully, starting awake every half an hour or so to frantically peer around, make sure he hadn't been caught by surprise. And when he didn't wake himself up, the island did it for him; screams and yells, gunshots and...and...
He thought he recognized the voices.
Oh, my, yes.
Dark circles had been left beneath his eyes, and his lips were curled into what would have been a sneer, were it not for the evident desperation in his movements.
Oh, God, I'm so...dirty.
And if only he meant that in an at all pleasing way.
He had finally given up and fished a cigarette out of his bag (Government tightasses had left him his illegally-gotten goods--how kind of them). It had calmed him down, somewhat; soothed his jittery nerves. But then a large (or so it sounded) battle had broken out nearby, and he had not had time to run.
Worse, he had recognized some of the yells.
And, when he'd wound his way out from the house he'd hidden in in the Residential District, darting out through the broad darknesses created by each house, he had found the tableau--Kazuo's gun still smoking faintly in the direction of a particular house. He had d recognized Mitsuru Numai--big, stupid Mitsuru. Loyal little dog, he thought, not unkindly. Didn't you ever see the way he looked at you?
He could tell who'd dealt the finishing blow to Kazuo--could tell by the way the body was splayed in the light, gun extended. And of all the things Sho had faith in--his Mariyln Monroes, his smooth Cosmos after a rough day at school, the sight of a fine man in too-tight clothes or a too-snug dress--there was one he'd always had faith in above all others; Mitsuru would never turn on Boss Kiriyama.
Unless Kiriyama turned on him first.
Kazuo, he thought, smile twitching at his tired lips. Like looking at a gorgeous statue. Like fucking ice.
The battlefield had fallen silent, the gunfire had ended, and he saw no one moving. For all his craftiness, the sight of so many people--of so many friends--dead stunned him into action. Only one person remained; he would have recognized Hiroshi's impressive bulk anywhere.
They were his friends, weren't they? For all their issues, they were his...
But Kazuo's gun had been trained on the far house, when he'd open fire. Kazuo had...
Swallowing (never spitting), Sho trained his crossbow on the house Kazuo had fired at, low to the ground. "Hiroshi," he said quietly, knowing the danger and for once not caring. "I'm here."
Oh God I'm here.
He hadn't been following them.
Oh, he'd wanted too, soon enough. It had seemed like a terribly sweet idea, when he'd first left--leave the Family to look after themselves, and in the meantime try and see what he could do. But as he'd run for the past...how long had it been? Twelve hours? Eighteen?--he'd felt more and more oppressed.
He hated this place. And with every series of gunshots, ever chance corpse left unburied, every maroon stain left here and there upon the ground he hated it more.
He'd slept, for a little while; fitfully, starting awake every half an hour or so to frantically peer around, make sure he hadn't been caught by surprise. And when he didn't wake himself up, the island did it for him; screams and yells, gunshots and...and...
He thought he recognized the voices.
Oh, my, yes.
Dark circles had been left beneath his eyes, and his lips were curled into what would have been a sneer, were it not for the evident desperation in his movements.
Oh, God, I'm so...dirty.
And if only he meant that in an at all pleasing way.
He had finally given up and fished a cigarette out of his bag (Government tightasses had left him his illegally-gotten goods--how kind of them). It had calmed him down, somewhat; soothed his jittery nerves. But then a large (or so it sounded) battle had broken out nearby, and he had not had time to run.
Worse, he had recognized some of the yells.
And, when he'd wound his way out from the house he'd hidden in in the Residential District, darting out through the broad darknesses created by each house, he had found the tableau--Kazuo's gun still smoking faintly in the direction of a particular house. He had d recognized Mitsuru Numai--big, stupid Mitsuru. Loyal little dog, he thought, not unkindly. Didn't you ever see the way he looked at you?
He could tell who'd dealt the finishing blow to Kazuo--could tell by the way the body was splayed in the light, gun extended. And of all the things Sho had faith in--his Mariyln Monroes, his smooth Cosmos after a rough day at school, the sight of a fine man in too-tight clothes or a too-snug dress--there was one he'd always had faith in above all others; Mitsuru would never turn on Boss Kiriyama.
Unless Kiriyama turned on him first.
Kazuo, he thought, smile twitching at his tired lips. Like looking at a gorgeous statue. Like fucking ice.
The battlefield had fallen silent, the gunfire had ended, and he saw no one moving. For all his craftiness, the sight of so many people--of so many friends--dead stunned him into action. Only one person remained; he would have recognized Hiroshi's impressive bulk anywhere.
They were his friends, weren't they? For all their issues, they were his...
But Kazuo's gun had been trained on the far house, when he'd open fire. Kazuo had...
Swallowing (never spitting), Sho trained his crossbow on the house Kazuo had fired at, low to the ground. "Hiroshi," he said quietly, knowing the danger and for once not caring. "I'm here."
Oh God I'm here.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Grim Wolf. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
"Don't waste your energy bro'... don't want that fuck to tag you too."
"Don't say things like that man... You're startin' to get me worried there!" said Hiroshi, desperately trying to put on a smile despite how grievously worried he was for his friend's life. However, deep down he knew nothing could be done. Mitsuru's wound was too deep, WAY too deep. Even if he did have any medical supplies, or any idea how to use them, Mitsuru was a goner. All he could do now is stick by his side and wait until he breathed his last breath, something Hiroshi was determined to do to the bitter end.
"Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro."
To describe how hard it was for Hiroshi to suppress his tears would be nigh impossible. He'd seen others die, like Shuuya back at the classroom and Kazuhiko by the beach. But Mitsuru... Mitsuru was his friend. His amigo. His compadre. His freakin' nakama! The guy was practically family to him, so to see him barely seconds away from death's door was almost more then the adolescent could handle. But he was a member of the Kiriyama Family, and as far as they were concerned crying's for wimps and pussies. But even so, Hiroshi couldn't help but find himself wiping his eyes dry.
Damnit Mitsuru! Why'd you have to go out on me like this! We were supposed to take down the system together! Along with Ry, Sho and the bo...
"Surprise,"
To say what Mitsuru did next took Hiroshi off guard would be a heinous understatement. He lifted his gun, and proceeded to aim it at none other than Kiriyama's back. He only caught on to what was happening at the very last second.
"MITSURU DON'T!"
Too late. Three shots were fired into Kiriyama's back before Mitsuru finally dropped down, dead. The boss dropped barely seconds afterwords, only for him to crawl back to Mitsuru to check on his pulse. "it... hurts." he said, before giving Hiroshi one final look. "The family... is over." And with that, Kazuo Kiriyama died.
Hiroshi wasn't sure whether or not he should be feeling grief over Mitsuru's death, or shocked about the fact that he'd just shot the boss right before his eyes. Either way, Hiroshi knew one thing... Any hopes of the Kiriyama Family beating the program were gone. Completely and utterly blown away within such a small amount of time were any hope that they could all get out of the situation alive and well, now that the two principle members where gone.
"B... Boss... M... Mitsuru..."
"You see what I did? YOU SEE WHAT I DID? I CAN WIN THIS GAME AND THEY CAN'T ANYMORE! I WILL GET OFF OF HERE, AND NO ONE WILL CALL ME A DOOFUS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!"
Akamatsu...
Hiroshi began to grit his teeth in rage.
Fucking Idiot! Stupid fucking idiot! If he'd just listened, then we might of all gotten out of this alive! My friends wouldn't be dead, and man-tits over there would be fine! If the bastard had just LISTENED instead of trying to play the hero! Stupid bastard! STUPID FUCKING BASTARD!!!
He lifted his gun, an enraged look in his eyes as he looked at Akamatsu from under the car. He didn't want to play, god how much he didn't want to play. But for Akamatsu would be an exception... The fat fuck screwed with the Family, and as Hiroshi aimed at his legs from underneath the car, he felt no remorse as he prepared himself to fire.
Fucking doofus... I'll show you what happens when people fuck with the family!
He pulled the trigger......
Click.
What.
Click. Click.
No! NO NO NO NO NO! You've got to be fucking joking! THE FUCKING GUN'S JAMMED!?!
He knew he didn't have much time. That bastard Akamatsu would open fire on him any second now, and with a jammed gun there wasn't much he could do about it if he did.
FuckfuckfuckfuckFuckFuckFUCKFUCKFUCK!
His mind was going at a hundred miles per hour. As much as he didn't want Akamatsu to get away with what he'd done, Mitsuru's passing request before he died still lingered in his mind...
Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro.
Ryuhei...
With this in mind, he bolted as fast as he could from the car, running as fast as he could in the general direction of the beach. With any luck, Akamatsu wouldn't give chase. After all, he doubted the doofus would open fire on someone in retreat.
Well, he hoped so anyway.
In all the panic and confusion however, he'd completely overlooked the fact that he could has easily picked up Mitsuru's luger and use that instead.
((Hiroshi Kuronaga continued in Backlash))
"Don't say things like that man... You're startin' to get me worried there!" said Hiroshi, desperately trying to put on a smile despite how grievously worried he was for his friend's life. However, deep down he knew nothing could be done. Mitsuru's wound was too deep, WAY too deep. Even if he did have any medical supplies, or any idea how to use them, Mitsuru was a goner. All he could do now is stick by his side and wait until he breathed his last breath, something Hiroshi was determined to do to the bitter end.
"Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro."
To describe how hard it was for Hiroshi to suppress his tears would be nigh impossible. He'd seen others die, like Shuuya back at the classroom and Kazuhiko by the beach. But Mitsuru... Mitsuru was his friend. His amigo. His compadre. His freakin' nakama! The guy was practically family to him, so to see him barely seconds away from death's door was almost more then the adolescent could handle. But he was a member of the Kiriyama Family, and as far as they were concerned crying's for wimps and pussies. But even so, Hiroshi couldn't help but find himself wiping his eyes dry.
Damnit Mitsuru! Why'd you have to go out on me like this! We were supposed to take down the system together! Along with Ry, Sho and the bo...
"Surprise,"
To say what Mitsuru did next took Hiroshi off guard would be a heinous understatement. He lifted his gun, and proceeded to aim it at none other than Kiriyama's back. He only caught on to what was happening at the very last second.
"MITSURU DON'T!"
Too late. Three shots were fired into Kiriyama's back before Mitsuru finally dropped down, dead. The boss dropped barely seconds afterwords, only for him to crawl back to Mitsuru to check on his pulse. "it... hurts." he said, before giving Hiroshi one final look. "The family... is over." And with that, Kazuo Kiriyama died.
Hiroshi wasn't sure whether or not he should be feeling grief over Mitsuru's death, or shocked about the fact that he'd just shot the boss right before his eyes. Either way, Hiroshi knew one thing... Any hopes of the Kiriyama Family beating the program were gone. Completely and utterly blown away within such a small amount of time were any hope that they could all get out of the situation alive and well, now that the two principle members where gone.
"B... Boss... M... Mitsuru..."
"You see what I did? YOU SEE WHAT I DID? I CAN WIN THIS GAME AND THEY CAN'T ANYMORE! I WILL GET OFF OF HERE, AND NO ONE WILL CALL ME A DOOFUS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!!"
Akamatsu...
Hiroshi began to grit his teeth in rage.
Fucking Idiot! Stupid fucking idiot! If he'd just listened, then we might of all gotten out of this alive! My friends wouldn't be dead, and man-tits over there would be fine! If the bastard had just LISTENED instead of trying to play the hero! Stupid bastard! STUPID FUCKING BASTARD!!!
He lifted his gun, an enraged look in his eyes as he looked at Akamatsu from under the car. He didn't want to play, god how much he didn't want to play. But for Akamatsu would be an exception... The fat fuck screwed with the Family, and as Hiroshi aimed at his legs from underneath the car, he felt no remorse as he prepared himself to fire.
Fucking doofus... I'll show you what happens when people fuck with the family!
He pulled the trigger......
Click.
What.
Click. Click.
No! NO NO NO NO NO! You've got to be fucking joking! THE FUCKING GUN'S JAMMED!?!
He knew he didn't have much time. That bastard Akamatsu would open fire on him any second now, and with a jammed gun there wasn't much he could do about it if he did.
FuckfuckfuckfuckFuckFuckFUCKFUCKFUCK!
His mind was going at a hundred miles per hour. As much as he didn't want Akamatsu to get away with what he'd done, Mitsuru's passing request before he died still lingered in his mind...
Hiro'... if you see the squirt, look after him. See you on the other side, bro.
Ryuhei...
With this in mind, he bolted as fast as he could from the car, running as fast as he could in the general direction of the beach. With any luck, Akamatsu wouldn't give chase. After all, he doubted the doofus would open fire on someone in retreat.
Well, he hoped so anyway.
In all the panic and confusion however, he'd completely overlooked the fact that he could has easily picked up Mitsuru's luger and use that instead.
((Hiroshi Kuronaga continued in Backlash))
Kicking Akamatsu in the face since 2010