Chapter 1
TITLE: The Plot Thickens
RATING: GP
PAIRINGS: None. Original Characters condensed from Version 3 of br_roleplay
NOTES: The characters of Yukie, Sosuke, Satomi and Ryoushi Kotaro are copyright by dreweid, the characters Akemi and Utsumi Isamu, as well as Cho, Shenji and Mura are owned by lady_sephiroth, and the character Eiji Satou owned by relm. Characters used with permission.
CHAPTER 1
May 7, 3:15 AM. Somewhere in Tokyo.
“Tokiya, over here, quick. Help me out with this!”
The man called Tokiya ran, nearly dropping the cup of coffee he was enjoying right before his companion arrived. Theirs were the only establishment left open for that night, but with a good excuse-they had received notice that they would be having a patron at this time of night, maybe it was the perky lady who had called them up earlier, for all they know. Tokiya hurried over, and was met by two armed men beside a military truck, his cohort huffing and puffing loudly while hauling something out of the truck.
“Tokiya, I said help me out here!”
The radio was on, he had left it open to keep off his drowsiness, and partly because the winner of the Program was to be announced today. The armed men remained immobile, Tokiya shooting them awkward looks as he assisted Yukio, his companion, extract the quite hefty package from the truck. Having been in this funeral business for five years now, Tokiya was quite used to this-meanwhile, the music from the radio was disrupted by a hurried-sounding man, annotating rather loudly.
"I'm here at Tokyo International Airport, where this year’s winner of Battle Royale is about to be announced! Details are quite sketchy at this moment, all we know is that it's a girl, and that the game came right down to the wire! As usual, students were taken to an undisclosed location where they fought until the end-"
Both men seemed to have frozen on their trail. The Program results had never ceased to amuse them, and it was most probable that the whole country was tuned in to their television or radio sets by now-The body bag they were heaving now lay on a stretcher Tokiya brought with him earlier, and without further ado, the two armed men returned to the truck, and promptly drove away.
"And this just in...this years winner has been reported as having no injuries, an insane feat for any student!"
“Holy shit.” Yukio pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, and promptly lighted it. “No injuries! A new record, that one would be.”
Tokiya, however, was scrutinising the package-or the body bag, as they call it. There was a tag on the zipper, and, taking it on his calloused hand; he read the tag. Meanwhile, Yukio cursed loudly-the radio died out again, just as the winner’s name was to be announced.
KOTARO RYOUSHI
Boys # 4
Ninth Grade, Class 3B, Kouzentaru Tokyo High
Time of Death 2:35 A.M., May 7
The Program logo was emblazoned on the tag as well. Tokiya pushed the stretcher towards the morgue, and was about to pull the zipper down, just as Yukio followed him on the room, tugging at the surgical gloves he had worn by then. The cigarette was still chomped between his mouth, but neither men didn’t care. Tokiya was now unzipping the bag, and, upon finishing, poked the exposed arm softly.
“Flesh still warm-looks like this is one of the finalists, Yukio. Whatd’ya say?”
Just then, an SUV pulled up right in front of the establishment. The two men hurried to the entrance door, where they were met by a middle-aged woman, with sunglasses on. Normally it would’ve been odd to wear one, especially since the sun was nowhere to be found, but this was no ordinary woman. This woman was Arisu Isamu, a mortician by profession, the owner of the establishment. She nodded to the two men in front of her, and promptly headed to the morgue, where, upon seeing the body, she let out a soft whimper.
Ryo…
Tokiya and Yukio could only watch as Arisu pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, and she started poking the pale flesh, indicating to them the smile that was on the body’s face. Muttering softly as she worked, she heaved a sigh of relief upon noticing the moist lips of the corpse. Good, those bastards still had an ounce of respect for the dead on them. She scrutinised the open wound on the neck, and noticed the burn marks on the area, choking down the urge the cry. She then took out a clipboard, wrote out her findings, including the bloodied track shirt, pants, and muddy shoes, and ordered Tokiya to take the camera from her office.
“B-but madam, the gov-“
“Now.”
Moments later, Arisu’s hand was poised on the camera button, while the two men behind her watched helplessly. He didn’t deserve this. The boy was kind, sweet, gentle. No one deserved to die like this. No one. Without batting an eyelash, Arisu held down the button.
***
May 8, 9:34 AM. Kouzentaru, Tokyo, Japan.
Satomi stared at the bulging folder in front of her. It was torn in different places, completely worn out. The outside was littered by the ‘Confidential’ sign, along with the Program logo. Sosuke had arrived last night, gave her this, and promptly left again. Not that she cared, though. The once lively abode their family lived in now was devoid of any sign of happiness, for a good reason. Her brother-the only boy of the family. Dead, pronounced dead a day ago.
Sighing, she extracted the contents of it, and sat down on the chair in front of the desk. The laptop hummed, resting on the desk as she read the contents of the folder. The room she was in was colored in different shades of blue, signs of disarray all over it-thrown clothes, shoes, even underwear. The bed itself was messy, a track bag lying open on it, books, notepads and pens strewn all over. A tatami mat, however, was lying on the floor, neatly folded. Normally Satomi disliked being here, the paint colored blue and all, but this was no ordinary room.
It was her brother’s room. Ryoushi’s room.
The folder contained the information, file and photos of the recently concluded Program. Satomi could see the class picture, the files of the students-and promptly looked for her brother’s. It was a known fact that the local high school was this year’s host for the Program, and her brother was one of those included. She sighed, peered over the files, and finally saw her brother’s. Pieces of paper were stapled to it, and, leaning over, Satomi started to read.
BATTLE ROYALE CONTESTANTS
Boys # 4
Kotaro Ryoushi
Height: 183 cm (6 ft.)
Weight: 59 kg (130 lb.)
Extra-Curricular Activities: Varsity track team
Primary Talents: Inherent athleticism, leadership skills and trustworthiness
Primary Weakness: Anti-authority tendencies, difficulty in concentration, irritable and straightforward tendencies.
Designated Weapon: Electric Cattle Prod
Pertinent Background: Athletically gifted, possibly the most athletically gifted of all current contestants (ref. Track team). Parents: Yukie, restaurant owner (ref. Kouzentaru business ventures) and Sosuke, former military official (ref. official list of generals of the Republic). Father is known to exert anti-authoritarian tendencies (ref. resignation / rebellion). Belongs to the largest class clique (ref. The Rebels), close friends with Satou Eiji (ref. separate file). Subject suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Conclusion/s: Late elimination due to neutral status in class. Striking features and athleticism may be a factor for subject’s survival. Probable anti-government tendencies if subject survives.
Satomi fought valiantly the urge to cry. Her brother was grinning at him on the photo beside the informations, innocent, unknowing of what would happen to him. The way the file depicted his brother nearly made her vomit. It was like he wasn’t a person at all-just a simple contestant on some silly game. Satomi continued reading the papers stapled on the file.
MAY 5, 4: 23 AM
Kill - Boys # 8 Shubuki Tyojo (lacerations, gouging injuries)
MAY 6, 11:05 AM
Kill - Girls # 1 Akashita Asuka (gunshot and crossbow injuries)
- Kill attempt by Boys # 8 Shubuki Tyojo, fell unconscious after Pub bombing
TIME OF DEATH - 2:35 AM MAY 7 (5TH PLACE OVERALL)
She could only widen her eyes and breathe heavily. So Ryo had killed someone. Maybe self-defence, her mind argued. But still, the thought of her brother killing somebody was revolting. And only the game could instigate and allow him to do that. He was on the top five, though. Satomi thumbed through the official results and found the names Hanazawa Shizuru (4th) Yamaoka Michiko (3rd) Tsukamoto Tetsuo (2nd) and Isamu Akemi (1st).
Was the Program this harsh that Ryo was forced to kill in order to survive? She skimmed a few files, and read ‘psychopathic tendencies, schizophrenia, attention-deficit disorder’, terms she thought could only be found on her psychology class. Battle Royale warps minds, turns a regular, innocent student into a killing machine, a monster. By the time the students stepped on the island, their fates are already sealed. Death lay in front of every student, and it was only a matter of time until they actually meet it.
The laptop emitted a faint sound. Satomi looked up, and was met by the smiling faces of Ryo and Eiji. This was his computer, after all-but a new mail notification startled her.
She clicked on the button, and started reading.
***
May 7, 5:42 AM. Busan International Airport, Busan, South Korea
Akemi strode back and forth, her eyes tired, breathing heavily. The flight to America she was in suddenly had to do an emergency landing fifteen minutes after leaving, and they were stuck in Busan, South Korea, the pilot informing them that they would be notified once the problem was sorted out. Utsumi, her mother, went to nurse herself with a cup of coffee, while Mura and Shenji were sleeping on the chairs on the waiting area. Cho was sitting, wide-awake, and was staring at Akemi as she paced back and forth.
The sound of footsteps alerted the two. Akemi turned, and was met by someone who looked extremely familiar-a middle-aged lady, with sunglasses on, though her hair, which was usually kept neat, was dishevelled.
“Aunt?”
Arisu Isamu smiled. “Yes, it’s me. Congratulations, by the way.” Behind her, several airport workers and people started queuing up, ready for the day ahead. Arisu fumbled for her shoulder bag, while Shenji and Mura stirred, but continued dozing off.
Cho stood up. “Good Morning, Miss Isa-ah, madam.” Arisu had raised eyebrows at her, and mouthed something that she didn’t understand. A surname, most probably.
“Zazen. Arisu Zazen.” Just then, Utsumi arrived, holding two cups of coffee on her hands. At the sight of Arisu, she broke into a half-run. Arisu was there-her sister was there. But what was she up to? Remind Akemi of the past they were leaving behind?
Arisu nodded to Utsumi, and returned her warm handshake. The sun was starting to peek through the wide windows of the airport, and just then, a female voice sounded throughout the facility.
“Calling all passengers of Nippon Air Flight 321, please proceed to Gate number 4. The plane will leave after 10 minutes. Nippon Air Flight 321, please proceed to Gate number 4.”
Mura and Shenji sat up, rubbing their eyes. At the sound of the lady, Arisu quickly pressed a small envelope on Akemi’s hand, gave a final nod to Utsumi, turned on her heel and left. Utsumi could only wonder what Arisu was up to-Cho looked on, obviously bewildered. Meanwhile, the PA system sounded again.
“Come on.” Utsumi heaved the two bags that contained hers and Akemi’s things. The other three followed suit, while Akemi followed her departing aunt with a confused look.
Thirty minutes later, 30,000 feet up in the air, Akemi’s eyes widened as she saw what the envelope contained. Utsumi, Cho, Mura and Shenji were all asleep beside and behind her. The envelope contained a letter from Arisu, and a photo.
Akemi:
Terribly sorry for what happened. However, I urge you to fight for it. You’re en route to America now, so fight for what you think is right. Fight for it, Akemi. If you need my help in some way, you know where to find me.
Arisu
P.S. Enclosed is a photo you might need for motivation.
Akemi tore the paper that contained the photo Arisu was referring to, and let out a small whimper.
It was a photo-a captioned photo of the fifth placer. One of the rebels, Ryoushi Kotaro.
To be continued.
Comments and suggestions are highly encouraged. Apologies for the major crappiness. -_-
RATING: GP
PAIRINGS: None. Original Characters condensed from Version 3 of br_roleplay
NOTES: The characters of Yukie, Sosuke, Satomi and Ryoushi Kotaro are copyright by dreweid, the characters Akemi and Utsumi Isamu, as well as Cho, Shenji and Mura are owned by lady_sephiroth, and the character Eiji Satou owned by relm. Characters used with permission.
CHAPTER 1
May 7, 3:15 AM. Somewhere in Tokyo.
“Tokiya, over here, quick. Help me out with this!”
The man called Tokiya ran, nearly dropping the cup of coffee he was enjoying right before his companion arrived. Theirs were the only establishment left open for that night, but with a good excuse-they had received notice that they would be having a patron at this time of night, maybe it was the perky lady who had called them up earlier, for all they know. Tokiya hurried over, and was met by two armed men beside a military truck, his cohort huffing and puffing loudly while hauling something out of the truck.
“Tokiya, I said help me out here!”
The radio was on, he had left it open to keep off his drowsiness, and partly because the winner of the Program was to be announced today. The armed men remained immobile, Tokiya shooting them awkward looks as he assisted Yukio, his companion, extract the quite hefty package from the truck. Having been in this funeral business for five years now, Tokiya was quite used to this-meanwhile, the music from the radio was disrupted by a hurried-sounding man, annotating rather loudly.
"I'm here at Tokyo International Airport, where this year’s winner of Battle Royale is about to be announced! Details are quite sketchy at this moment, all we know is that it's a girl, and that the game came right down to the wire! As usual, students were taken to an undisclosed location where they fought until the end-"
Both men seemed to have frozen on their trail. The Program results had never ceased to amuse them, and it was most probable that the whole country was tuned in to their television or radio sets by now-The body bag they were heaving now lay on a stretcher Tokiya brought with him earlier, and without further ado, the two armed men returned to the truck, and promptly drove away.
"And this just in...this years winner has been reported as having no injuries, an insane feat for any student!"
“Holy shit.” Yukio pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, and promptly lighted it. “No injuries! A new record, that one would be.”
Tokiya, however, was scrutinising the package-or the body bag, as they call it. There was a tag on the zipper, and, taking it on his calloused hand; he read the tag. Meanwhile, Yukio cursed loudly-the radio died out again, just as the winner’s name was to be announced.
KOTARO RYOUSHI
Boys # 4
Ninth Grade, Class 3B, Kouzentaru Tokyo High
Time of Death 2:35 A.M., May 7
The Program logo was emblazoned on the tag as well. Tokiya pushed the stretcher towards the morgue, and was about to pull the zipper down, just as Yukio followed him on the room, tugging at the surgical gloves he had worn by then. The cigarette was still chomped between his mouth, but neither men didn’t care. Tokiya was now unzipping the bag, and, upon finishing, poked the exposed arm softly.
“Flesh still warm-looks like this is one of the finalists, Yukio. Whatd’ya say?”
Just then, an SUV pulled up right in front of the establishment. The two men hurried to the entrance door, where they were met by a middle-aged woman, with sunglasses on. Normally it would’ve been odd to wear one, especially since the sun was nowhere to be found, but this was no ordinary woman. This woman was Arisu Isamu, a mortician by profession, the owner of the establishment. She nodded to the two men in front of her, and promptly headed to the morgue, where, upon seeing the body, she let out a soft whimper.
Ryo…
Tokiya and Yukio could only watch as Arisu pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, and she started poking the pale flesh, indicating to them the smile that was on the body’s face. Muttering softly as she worked, she heaved a sigh of relief upon noticing the moist lips of the corpse. Good, those bastards still had an ounce of respect for the dead on them. She scrutinised the open wound on the neck, and noticed the burn marks on the area, choking down the urge the cry. She then took out a clipboard, wrote out her findings, including the bloodied track shirt, pants, and muddy shoes, and ordered Tokiya to take the camera from her office.
“B-but madam, the gov-“
“Now.”
Moments later, Arisu’s hand was poised on the camera button, while the two men behind her watched helplessly. He didn’t deserve this. The boy was kind, sweet, gentle. No one deserved to die like this. No one. Without batting an eyelash, Arisu held down the button.
***
May 8, 9:34 AM. Kouzentaru, Tokyo, Japan.
Satomi stared at the bulging folder in front of her. It was torn in different places, completely worn out. The outside was littered by the ‘Confidential’ sign, along with the Program logo. Sosuke had arrived last night, gave her this, and promptly left again. Not that she cared, though. The once lively abode their family lived in now was devoid of any sign of happiness, for a good reason. Her brother-the only boy of the family. Dead, pronounced dead a day ago.
Sighing, she extracted the contents of it, and sat down on the chair in front of the desk. The laptop hummed, resting on the desk as she read the contents of the folder. The room she was in was colored in different shades of blue, signs of disarray all over it-thrown clothes, shoes, even underwear. The bed itself was messy, a track bag lying open on it, books, notepads and pens strewn all over. A tatami mat, however, was lying on the floor, neatly folded. Normally Satomi disliked being here, the paint colored blue and all, but this was no ordinary room.
It was her brother’s room. Ryoushi’s room.
The folder contained the information, file and photos of the recently concluded Program. Satomi could see the class picture, the files of the students-and promptly looked for her brother’s. It was a known fact that the local high school was this year’s host for the Program, and her brother was one of those included. She sighed, peered over the files, and finally saw her brother’s. Pieces of paper were stapled to it, and, leaning over, Satomi started to read.
BATTLE ROYALE CONTESTANTS
Boys # 4
Kotaro Ryoushi
Height: 183 cm (6 ft.)
Weight: 59 kg (130 lb.)
Extra-Curricular Activities: Varsity track team
Primary Talents: Inherent athleticism, leadership skills and trustworthiness
Primary Weakness: Anti-authority tendencies, difficulty in concentration, irritable and straightforward tendencies.
Designated Weapon: Electric Cattle Prod
Pertinent Background: Athletically gifted, possibly the most athletically gifted of all current contestants (ref. Track team). Parents: Yukie, restaurant owner (ref. Kouzentaru business ventures) and Sosuke, former military official (ref. official list of generals of the Republic). Father is known to exert anti-authoritarian tendencies (ref. resignation / rebellion). Belongs to the largest class clique (ref. The Rebels), close friends with Satou Eiji (ref. separate file). Subject suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Conclusion/s: Late elimination due to neutral status in class. Striking features and athleticism may be a factor for subject’s survival. Probable anti-government tendencies if subject survives.
Satomi fought valiantly the urge to cry. Her brother was grinning at him on the photo beside the informations, innocent, unknowing of what would happen to him. The way the file depicted his brother nearly made her vomit. It was like he wasn’t a person at all-just a simple contestant on some silly game. Satomi continued reading the papers stapled on the file.
MAY 5, 4: 23 AM
Kill - Boys # 8 Shubuki Tyojo (lacerations, gouging injuries)
MAY 6, 11:05 AM
Kill - Girls # 1 Akashita Asuka (gunshot and crossbow injuries)
- Kill attempt by Boys # 8 Shubuki Tyojo, fell unconscious after Pub bombing
TIME OF DEATH - 2:35 AM MAY 7 (5TH PLACE OVERALL)
She could only widen her eyes and breathe heavily. So Ryo had killed someone. Maybe self-defence, her mind argued. But still, the thought of her brother killing somebody was revolting. And only the game could instigate and allow him to do that. He was on the top five, though. Satomi thumbed through the official results and found the names Hanazawa Shizuru (4th) Yamaoka Michiko (3rd) Tsukamoto Tetsuo (2nd) and Isamu Akemi (1st).
Was the Program this harsh that Ryo was forced to kill in order to survive? She skimmed a few files, and read ‘psychopathic tendencies, schizophrenia, attention-deficit disorder’, terms she thought could only be found on her psychology class. Battle Royale warps minds, turns a regular, innocent student into a killing machine, a monster. By the time the students stepped on the island, their fates are already sealed. Death lay in front of every student, and it was only a matter of time until they actually meet it.
The laptop emitted a faint sound. Satomi looked up, and was met by the smiling faces of Ryo and Eiji. This was his computer, after all-but a new mail notification startled her.
She clicked on the button, and started reading.
***
May 7, 5:42 AM. Busan International Airport, Busan, South Korea
Akemi strode back and forth, her eyes tired, breathing heavily. The flight to America she was in suddenly had to do an emergency landing fifteen minutes after leaving, and they were stuck in Busan, South Korea, the pilot informing them that they would be notified once the problem was sorted out. Utsumi, her mother, went to nurse herself with a cup of coffee, while Mura and Shenji were sleeping on the chairs on the waiting area. Cho was sitting, wide-awake, and was staring at Akemi as she paced back and forth.
The sound of footsteps alerted the two. Akemi turned, and was met by someone who looked extremely familiar-a middle-aged lady, with sunglasses on, though her hair, which was usually kept neat, was dishevelled.
“Aunt?”
Arisu Isamu smiled. “Yes, it’s me. Congratulations, by the way.” Behind her, several airport workers and people started queuing up, ready for the day ahead. Arisu fumbled for her shoulder bag, while Shenji and Mura stirred, but continued dozing off.
Cho stood up. “Good Morning, Miss Isa-ah, madam.” Arisu had raised eyebrows at her, and mouthed something that she didn’t understand. A surname, most probably.
“Zazen. Arisu Zazen.” Just then, Utsumi arrived, holding two cups of coffee on her hands. At the sight of Arisu, she broke into a half-run. Arisu was there-her sister was there. But what was she up to? Remind Akemi of the past they were leaving behind?
Arisu nodded to Utsumi, and returned her warm handshake. The sun was starting to peek through the wide windows of the airport, and just then, a female voice sounded throughout the facility.
“Calling all passengers of Nippon Air Flight 321, please proceed to Gate number 4. The plane will leave after 10 minutes. Nippon Air Flight 321, please proceed to Gate number 4.”
Mura and Shenji sat up, rubbing their eyes. At the sound of the lady, Arisu quickly pressed a small envelope on Akemi’s hand, gave a final nod to Utsumi, turned on her heel and left. Utsumi could only wonder what Arisu was up to-Cho looked on, obviously bewildered. Meanwhile, the PA system sounded again.
“Come on.” Utsumi heaved the two bags that contained hers and Akemi’s things. The other three followed suit, while Akemi followed her departing aunt with a confused look.
Thirty minutes later, 30,000 feet up in the air, Akemi’s eyes widened as she saw what the envelope contained. Utsumi, Cho, Mura and Shenji were all asleep beside and behind her. The envelope contained a letter from Arisu, and a photo.
Akemi:
Terribly sorry for what happened. However, I urge you to fight for it. You’re en route to America now, so fight for what you think is right. Fight for it, Akemi. If you need my help in some way, you know where to find me.
Arisu
P.S. Enclosed is a photo you might need for motivation.
Akemi tore the paper that contained the photo Arisu was referring to, and let out a small whimper.
It was a photo-a captioned photo of the fifth placer. One of the rebels, Ryoushi Kotaro.
To be continued.
Comments and suggestions are highly encouraged. Apologies for the major crappiness. -_-