Madfrey (likeatruck) wrote in battle_fics,

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Killers - a Kiriyama/Mitsuko fic

Title: Killers
Author: likeatruck
Rating: M/MA15+ (course language, adult themes, very mild violence)

Summary: There are two strategies to playing this game – kill or be killed. Mitsuko Souma and Kazuo Kiriyama have both chosen to fight for their survival and strive to win, but what will happen when the pair finally go head to head? Two cold blooded killers that share more than just an ultimate goal – two peas in a pod – can they see beyond the blood-stained exterior? [Slight Kiriyama/Mitsuko]

Disclaimer: Battle Royale belongs to Takami Koushun and its publishers. I don’t own the rights, and I don’t claim to. I don’t profit from this fan fiction. Yay. The banner, on the other hand, is my handy work. Hm.

Notes: We’re talkin’ about movie version of both of these characters. Kiriyama isn’t explored at all in the movie, which I suppose is a good thing since it leaves us with more variation when reading the novel/manga versus watching the dvd, so I thought (like a lot of the posters here, it would seem) that I'd give him a go. I’ve never written a BR fan fiction before so, regrettably, this is my first fanfic in the fandom ^^; This has been done a little differently to how I usually write too, so some constructive criticism / feedback is greatly appreciated. Also, it’s quarter past two in the morning - please forgive the summary/notes/etc if they’re in anyway incoherent xX; (Don’t worry, the fic was finished hours ago – hopefully that’ll be decent enough, however do point out any mistakes you may find, please). Enjoy!

He stood there, motionless, machine gun poised to fire into her chest. The handsome, blood-splattered boy looked coldly upon his next would-be victim, also frozen just a few feet away from him without any means to defend herself. Mitsuko pursed her lips, bracing herself, as she tried to fight off tears.

Mere moments had passed since Kazuo Kiriyama, the “transfer” student, had knocked the taser from out her tight grip, however, what would otherwise have been an instant cull accompanied by a sadistic grin had turned into a standoff, and what could have been called “routine” for him was incidentally paused.

Mitsuko too, who had been looking into the eyes of her first real threat in this game for only a few moments now, was being uncharacteristically still. It was in this sort of life or death situation that Mitsuko had always thought she would resort to more self-exploitive and defamatory measures to stay alive and under different circumstances, she most likely would have.

She was not one to choose death over a few measly favours – she’d fuck a teacher if it meant she’d pass, not that she cared about school.

But this guy was different.

Looking at him now, the blood on his shirt and his detached stare, Mitsuko feared he was as ruthless and conniving as her. She quivered. He was in it to win, just like her, and he'd kill whoever he had to to win.

Why was she so hell-bent on killing every player she came across, anyway? The ones she let go would just be cut down by somebody else, probably this guy. Briefly her mind jumped back to Chigusa Takako, who’d escaped her range just before. Momentarily she wondered whether or not that little bitch had dropped yet – such a pretty girl – God, she hated her.

Mitsuko was an angry and resentful girl, but this was of no consequence. It was because she knew she deserved better than to die by the hands of a loser that she slashed her classmates’ throats and pumped lead into her peers, and she wondered if the transfer student felt the same way; that he deserved to live.

Mitsuko Souma and Boy Number Six – two peas in a pod.

Kiriyama’s focus hadn’t slipped, as the determination in his eyes continued to burn. Although more time than he’d spent on his previous victims had passed since he’d pulled the gun on her, it wasn’t hesitation that left him paused. The meek-looking girl was drenched in blood – quite clearly she was one of the few students to participate in the game without having it blow up in her face, at least, up until now.

Like him, she’d also acquired quite a bountiful stash of weapons, not that they were doing her any good now. The pair remained idle, the air pregnant with tension. Still Kiriyama hadn’t shot.

He wasn’t enticed by the young vixen, nor did he feel compelled to spare her life. He wasn’t particularly impressed by her either, so, for the moment, it was his fascination with her that had him at a standstill. They were both killers; forces to be reckoned with. Up until this point, this angelic nightmare had put up a hell of a fight and Kazuo, as much as he was capable, respected that.

It was at this point that Mitsuko noticed his hesitation, not to mention the look he was giving her. The blood-drenched girl’s confidence began to rise up again. Her wobbling bottom lip slowly crept up into a smirk, as a look of hauteur fell upon her tear-stained face. Perhaps she’d been wrong and this ‘threat’ was not as dangerous as she’d thought.

Look at him – pathetic. Humbled, silenced, practically down on his knees over a pretty girl. She glared at her opponent. Here she’d seen a killer to be revered, but he was nothing but a pussy. He was gutless. She’d thought he was different but he’d probably just stumbled across one of the losers in her class (Like Yutaka Sato, she thought) and done the world a service by shutting him up. Probably self defence, no less. Ridiculous. He wasn't like her at all! He was weak. He was no killer.

Mitsuko chuckled. He could be seduced, of course he could!

Putting her hands on her hips, she began walking forward. Maybe she’d found a fuck she’d actually enjoy – he was pretty good looking, in an unconventional way.

Suddenly Kiriyama’s stern expression turned into one of disappointment. Then anger.

The little slut thinks she can screw her way out of this!

Perhaps he was wrong in thinking they were the same. She was just a stupid, little brat, playing on her looks to save her ass, there was nothing remotely admirable about her.

Just as Mitsuko started to turn on the charm, Kiriyama pulled the trigger. Dozens of rounds fired into her chest and as she staggered back, convulsing with every bullet, Kazuo smiled, contentedly, his sadistic grin.

…And even if they were two peas in a pod, there was only room for one winner in this game and one Kazuo Kiriyama. Fuck chivalry.


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