SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

Then there were two. Three, if you counted Sean lying there. There wasn't a lot of time for lingering sentiments, nor much capability to to give them.

He deserved them, though.

Justin's voice breaking the silence was surprising, and it played on her face. To an audience of whoever was watching this mess at this point, had she been spectating Sakurako would have long since looked for something less pathetic to watch. What he said seemed to make the house smaller, but loosened some of the tightness she felt in her chest.

Comforting, in it's own awkward little way? Who knew?

"I didn't even know dude back in school, 'cept that he liked to toke up. But here he... S-sean was... " There were real no words for it, what he'd been to her. Trying was just as foolish as everything else she'd done here. "My homeboy."

There was no need to recount the various ways they'd gone through hell together, in that way her story was everyone's. Any person still alive on this rock had a tale that would probably be right at home with the saddest war stories. Though war at least pretended to be about something.

Disaster left her mouth in the form of a bitter, cackling laugh. It was horrific, the thought that she and Justin could have just as easily been cool had the chips not shattered and scattered all over the bloody floor.

"What a game, right? You don't even get a brand new car in the end."

The only real prize was whatever it left the victor with.

Justin sharply exhaled through his nose and might have even smirked a moment. That was actually pretty funny.

"Worst game show ever."

He couldn't think of anything clever or witty to keep Saku's comment going, but it seemed like she'd recognized how pointless it all was, too. Not pointless, that wasn't the right word... there was definitely an objective, of course. Justin wanted to make it home and he'd do whatever it took. He'd come to that decision based on panic, then anxiety but now it was true commitment when he'd seen how simply somebody could roll over and die. There's no fanfare or musical sting, no drama to it. Just regular old death and somebody sings the praises of how you were killed the next morning. You become a name on a Wikipedia article, one of over a hundred that you have to scroll through to pick out of the masses. Maybe, for whatever reason, you become one of the more notable ones. The most notable, however, were the winners.

The prize was not being a statistic. But he couldn't give that answer to Saku and kill what little mood there was.

"Maybe if we ask real nice, we can st-... take one of the, the monkeys."

"Please Mr. Danya, can I have a goat for the road?"

Still crying, but now she was actively having to pull herself together not to laugh her ass off too. It would be a betrayal, a violation and a relief she didn't deserve.

Justin had ruined everything she'd managed to salvage from her losses. Shot her boyfriend, murdered her homieislandfiancefriend... and many more, besides. Was no good, no good at all.

And under all that, he wouldn't have been a terrible member of Clout Gang, considering the last person she welcomed had been a cold-blooded killer of vibes, and had abandoned Sean besides. Sakurako clasped a hand over her mouth, leaned over just enough to ruffle her friend's hair. Of course, blood stained her hands.

It wasn't good enough, but joking seemed the kind of sendoff he would have appreciated.

"Gonna head out, 'm taking the durian. You'll have to feed your victory monkey another way."

She didn't look back, slowly plodding toward the door. Her hand touched the doorknob leading back out to the outside, twisting it...

The last Justin would hear of her voice was genuine laughter. He wouldn't have to worry about her and Thomas coming back again.

Danger zones be damned, this village was dead to her.

((Sakurako A. Jackson continued in All It Is Is Things That Happen To You))

A durian. So that's what that thing was called. Absurd, Justin realized, to kill somebody with something he didn't know the name of. Somehow, it wasn't the most absurd thing to happen today. That award went to making false friends with the girl who really cared about the dead boy on the floor.

Justin stayed bunkered in his corner for minutes. Maybe a solid hour, no telling without a watch or a clock or phone or any real way to tell the time... couldn't see the sun from where he was and if he could, didn't have anything more accurate than 'this is morning, it is noon, it is evening, now it is night time.' So he waited a long time, and that's all he knew.

The first thing he did upon making sure the coast was clear was rifling through his things, making sure all the guns were loaded to the best of their ability... then finally taking care of that nagging pain in his ass. He hadn't had a real chance to look at it and without a mirror, he still couldn't get a really good one. He'd just have to feel for it then, pressing a gauze pad until it hurt the most to signify that he'd most certainly found the wound, or the main part of it. It didn't feel like a single pinpoint injury, a single bullet hole. Justin imagined more holes, the cheek looking like honeycomb with all the buckshot in it.

Okay, no more imagination time. Bandage time, then get the fuck out of here.

Sean didn't make much for good company and looking at him gave Justin a headache.

((Justin Greene, continued in And Nothing Will Go Wrong))