Gunpoint Kiss- The Roleplay Before the Writing

The girl twisted herself when Kazuo shoved her and landed on her side. Her arms flew over her head to form a weak sanctuary; she waited for pain, be it from kicks or bullets.

But nothing came. Absolutely nothing. The seconds were long, and the smell of the earth permeated her senses.

As her initial terror faded, a pain at her side caused her to let out a shuddering groan. Setsuko had landed on the bruising where she was kicked hours ago. She eventually lowered her arms and turned onto her back. When her eyes met his, she started to shake.

With all of the malice in his eyes, she picked up on the pained glint the most. She looked away for a second and swallowed hard before returning his gaze. Her body was still shaking and her breathing became distressed, but her eyes were unrelenting. They were lit with a different kind of fire, rather than anger. The flames dared him to lay a hand on her.

He continued to glower at her bitterly a moment more, before finally climbing to his feet, spitting at the ground toward her more fiercely. The deeply disconcerted expression clung to his face as he turned to stride off; he did not glance back for Setsuko this time.

Just a little ways further though, and his legs started to feel heavy. It threw him off balance - made his walking slower, and his stride more languid and prone to stumbling. He found he could barely keep his eyes open. The only sleep Kazuo got was for the short periods he felt tired... and if he did not sleep then, he deteriorated into a drowsy zombie until he was forced to. As such, he staggered against a tree, eyes glazed, before sliding down to sit. His head rested against the trunk and his eyes fell shut almost instantly, though his hand did slink over his submachine gun before he started to drift off.

Setsuko’s unfaltering gaze was broken when he spat at the ground; terror broke the mask of bravery and her arms flew over her head. She peered at him from between her sanctuary and sighed with relief. He was walking away.
She pulled herself up, not without a few pained groans and flinches. A quiet cry crept from her healing lips and she clutched her side. Her landing from his shove seemed to agitate the bruises. She slowly turned to observe Kazuo like she was an animal that knew it was being hunted. Her companion’s movements were unbalanced.

She knew that he was tired. It was her that startled him awake, after all.

Setsuko remained in her spot and watched him lean and collapse against a tree. Her fingers still itched for a few hits, but she was able to resist. The urge to keep on speaking was even stronger, yet she held her tongue. The bruises on her side and shoulder seemed to tell her that she should keep quiet, for now.

Even though Kazuo had been...merciful, then.

The girl did not move until she was sure that he was asleep. Her shoes were soft and left imprints on the earth. She reached him and hesitantly sat down, crawling onto her side. She saw his shoes from the corner of her eye, but the road was in perfect view. Setsuko was not tired. She would feign slumber and keep watch.

For how suddenly exhausted he had seemed to be, Kazuo did not sleep long. It was only around 20 minutes of hard sleep before he stirred, lifting his head and stretching his arms forward not unlike a cat waking from a nap. He felt a slight ache in his neck from its position against the tree, but knew it would be a short-lived pain.

Glancing down at Setsuko lying by his feet, he nudged her with the bottom of his blood-spattered shoe, then stood and brushed himself off somewhat. A quick drink of water, and he was off again.

The road into C3 led to a bathhouse. Instincts flickered on; a source of shelter would mean a higher chance of an encounter. Kazuo's footsteps grew stealthier, dark eyes studying the area carefully for signs of recent life - so carefully it seemed he was barely blinking, Uzi in hand. Still, for his stealth and his caution, his stride hardly slowed in pace or confidence, like a tiger investigating its own territory.

The building proved empty enough as he entered, though he continued to proceed warily. His gaze swept through each room and potential hiding place. It was only upon reaching the main bathing area that he jumped as if startled, reflexively stepping back to peer more carefully into the room.

Bodies. Two of them, lying still on the steps of the drained bath. Naked... and Kazuo could see the blood from here.

He hadn't heard any gunshots. He had been only one zone away... These corpses didn't reek yet. At least, they didn't stink up the whole room. Though wary of entering the open space, Kazuo stepped inside across the tile floor. He did not slink in like a scavenger or a criminal, but his gaze was still cautious, scanning for movement as he approached the two bodies. He slowed somewhat upon nearing... but it was soon very clear the two boys were very dead. Their innards and genitals had been savagely ripped apart past recognition, presumably with a blade, though it looked like it could've easily been the work of the teeth and claws of some beast.

Their odor was faint. Flies were few in number. These bodies were fresh; probably the two boys just announced on the noon report, even.

Kazuo's brows knit. His features recoiled with a blend of pained emotions, and his frame began to tremble slightly. Dark eyes bore into the bloody remains as if he meant to cook them with his glare alone. Boy number six was not the only killer on the island... and someone was doing a more beastly job than him. He hadn't killed somebody in over 12 hours and someone was stealing his would-be victims. He hadn't had a decent one-on-one fight with anybody since the encounter with the other transfer at the start of the game... and someone was asking for one.

She did not stir when he prodded her, but she glanced at him lazily before pulling herself up. The girl flinched only once, and a pained groan stayed latent in her throat. After she quickly gathered her bearings, she followed him. As they walked along the road, she frowned. They were nearing the bathhouse...someone could be hiding within. Before she could warn him, the road ended. She sighed inwardly and hung her head down. Her companion would definitely want a look.

The bathhouse loomed over the ground like some sort of prison and reached towards the sky as if to bring it down, despite its small size. She took a step back and frowned when Kazuo walked into the building. After a great sigh, she slowly walked into the construct, quietly and absently discarding everything onto the tiles, except for the sword. Her eyes wavered from Kazuo and the door, like a creature that wanted to escape. The girl clutched the handle of the blade, and her awkward gait slowly diminished. Fear seemed to make her movements more graceful and fluid. Stealth and silence were crucial. She was no trained assassin, but her footsteps were, at least, quiet.

Her grip tightened until her knuckles were white when she saw the mess of flesh and crimson splayed in the adjacent room; a sight that Kazuo had taken notice of, as he was already inside and observing. She stepped forward and then reeled back when she saw the faint glimmer of metal collars in the mess. Setsuko looked away and swallowed hard.

Someone was here...or had they wandered off?

She almost made a guttural sound, but held back. No one attacked, yet. Unless they were in wait. The minutes trudged by slowly, and became awkward. Setsuko finally approached him, her eyes trailing down towards the cinnabar pools.

The blood itself did not disgust her, but she was starting to feel sick and cold. Someone else was participating. To the fullest. She closed her eyes and swiftly side-stepped behind Kazuo. She clasped his jacket with one hand and buried her face in the rough fabric. The girl hoped that the familiarity would soothe her.

He glanced fleetingly at Setsuko when she appeared beside him, her movement catching his eye and momentarily pulling him out of his thoughts. When she moved to bury her face in his jacket, however, he turned, ripping suddenly away from her with a short growl. The boy spat at the tile floor before starting to pace. There was a danger zone to the west. Others would be popping up in that direction before 6PM... It was more likely this participant had headed southeast.

Kazuo moved to crouch by the bags of the two slain students, rummaging into them for supplies. A machete... tempting, but he didn't really need it. Setsuko still had the wakizashi anyways. A baseball bat.... Kazuo squinted thoughtfully at the weapon. Also tempting. He had fond memories of baseball bats; but it was unlikely a blunt object would prove useful here.

One water bottle was missing, but the second along with both remaining bread supplies were retrieved. He stashed everything away in his own bag except for one of the half-eaten bread loaves, standing to approach Setsuko and more or less shove it at her.

He cast one last look at the bloodied corpses, though it only served to fill his gaze with bitterness again as he turned for the way he had come in. He had to catch up to this participant and kill them before they took any more of his kills.

Setsuko almost dropped the wakizashi when he pulled away; her hand was still outstretched in the air as if to catch any shred of comfort that his scent gave her. The corners of her mouth retracted in annoyance and she withdrew her arm. The edges of her lips became thinner when he spat on the ground.
She turned away as Kazuo observed the boys’ belongings, to look blankly out of the door at the end of the stretch.

The bathhouse had not changed much...except for this desecration.
Her cheeks moved subtly, and masked her gnashing teeth on the inside. First, her people were taken away, and now her island was host to this game.
It was as if something so Holy became corrupted.

Setsuko felt like she should have been angry at the boy, but no ill will for his killings was harbored. Although, she was willing to admit that she was biased.

No matter.

She stared blankly at the bread when it was given to her, and then gave an exasperated sigh. The girl was grateful...and pleasantly surprised that Kazuo had thought of her. But it was one more thing to carry.

After she rushed over towards the medical kits, she haphazardly unlatched the two cases and sifted through the contents until there was enough room for her shove the bread inside. The other case almost overflowed, but it was still able to close.

She waited until her companion strode by to rise and follow him, with her things balancing awkwardly in her arms. The air in the entrance was good and fresh. With the anger towards the Program dwindling away, her attention shifted towards Kazuo.

“Why do you hate me touching you? We’ve done more than that.” Her voice was low.

A scowl flickered through his features at Setsuko's pestering. Kazuo's tolerance for physical contact fluctuated with both his mood and the circumstances... skin-on-skin wasn't comfortable unless in violence, and otherwise he didn't mind being touched so long as it wasn't some kind of gentle, soothing gesture. Gentle, soothing gestures irked him and proved anything but soothing.

Another question that rolled uselessly off his back, unanswered. He didn't even pause to offer his companion any form of response. For being able to speak, it was obvious he wasn't keen on doing so... but it seemed some questions he just didn't want to bother with at all.

Moving southeast, he took to trailing alongside the road in the woods as before, though this time on the opposite side. His gaze was sharp and alert, sweeping over the road and through the foliage for signs someone had been here, and his stride was purposeful.

Setsuko blinked as if something was in her eye and looked away. She hated how his actions angered or hurt her, no matter how small.
Being a teenaged girl, she was somewhat used to getting frustrated and upset, she never experienced anything to this degree.

She wanted to scream, but that would be unwise. There could be others all around them...waiting for a sound. The girl rested her forehead on the cold plastic tops of the medical boxes and focused her eyes on the ground below. Her lips moved to form murmurs, but they got louder and turned into frustrated grunts.

“Why do you keep doing this? You love seeing me angry, don’t you?”

For awhile he paid his companion no mind, until her muttering grew steadily more audible, and finally she raised her voice enough for him to actually hear.

He stopped. His shoulders fell lax, though he managed to keep his bag and Uzi on. His head tilted back exasperatedly. Kazuo stood there like that for almost a whole minute, like a weary parent trying to collect what was left of their patience. Finally, he swiveled around on his heel, casting Setsuko a sharp and tired look before spitting on the ground toward her and then turning back to continue on. Another couple of questions he seemed to have no intention of answering... but at least he acknowledged these ones.

She noticed that the sound of his footsteps had stopped, so she did as well. Just as she looked up, she saw him shift exasperatedly, only to spit towards her again and then continue on his way.

Setsuko did not follow him immediately. She waited a good minute or two before she took long strides to catch up.

Her tongue was held, and she found herself defeated at the hands of Kazuo again. No part of her body slouched, not even her shamed face. His rough and unconventional acknowledgement to her prying added to the typhoon within her heart rather than alleviate it.

Setsuko’s confusion at where they stood was in constant conflict with her waning patience, she was also cutting her own methods to draw him out before it could blossom. Her eyes drifted towards his injured arm, and she looked at it so affectionately that her gaze could have closed the wound.
She prayed that her voice was not driving him away -and if it was, that she could somehow find a way to be in his favor-, and that he would not turn around right now.

Silent tears were streaming down her face.

The sky had grown progressively gloomier since leaving the bathhouse. It wasn't long walking before it began to rain, and a drizzle through the treetops started to build into a downpour. The rain was muffled through the trees, but Kazuo stopped, leering warily up toward the sky. His gaze dropped then to study the earth. Soft ground or mud would be no good if the need for running arose...

He turned, dark eyes reluctantly shifting for his companion. His stare was blank, the usual subtle pout hovering over his features, though he looked at Setsuko rather expectantly, as if waiting for her to read his mind. He stared at her for about a minute before stepping closer, grabbing his map out of his bag and showing it to her quickly while trying to shield it from the rain. Though the map itself was protected within a sheet protector, the marker scribbled across it designating danger zones was not; which was why he wanted to be brief in pointing out where they were. After identifying E3 as their location, he was quick to tuck the map away, before staring at Setsuko again and waiting for some sign she understood.

She held every sound and the remainder of her tears inside until her eyes and throat burned. The back of her hand wiped the moisture away from her eyes, while she was careful not to hit any of the surrounding trees with the sheathed blade. With the added weight, Setsuko’s hand was heavy. She flinched; something cold and wet hit the skin on her nose.

Rain.

The water only became more boisterous over time. She looked up at the sky only to close her eyes and sigh softly. The water cooled the warm skin around her face, and she hoped that it soothed the irritation caused by her tears. Just as her head lowered, she saw Kazuo turning around.

Her cheeks became tinted with rose at his expression, and wondered what he suddenly turned around for. She shifted and glanced at the sky before returning to his gaze. They would need shelter.

Setsuko moved towards Kazuo as he pulled out the mark-ridden map to show it to her. She narrowed her eyes at his indication and made an annoyed sound when he pulled it away. At least she was able to see his scribbled writing. The girl seemed to look in the distance in deep thought, and then opened her mouth to speak. She closed it. After a few more moments of thinking, she turned to a smaller expanse away from the road. The girl motioned for him to follow.

“Come on.” She said, albeit hesitantly.

She kept her eyes on the ground as she lead on, making sure to step on the stable dirt. Setsuko hoped that she did not move too slowly. It did not take long to reach shelter. It was a small construct that was not quite a house, and it was nearing its final years, but it was still in a good state.

“Some old quack doctor used to live here.” She walked towards the door.

He watched her face with an unrelenting gaze, until - just as impatience started to seep into his features - she gestured for a direction. He followed briskly just beside her, eyes still alert through the foliage and rain. The noise of the growing downpour would make it harder to pick up on other sounds, so Kazuo felt especially wary.

Upon reaching the home, he wasted no time shoving the door open and sweeping through to check for life. It did not take long to affirm the place was clear. He threw his bag on a chair and finally made effort to wipe the rain from his face with his sleeve; then his hands combed into his hair to tousle it aggressively, almost like an itching dog. The rain had created a wet layer over Kazuo's hair, and dampened its volume somewhat; but with some further messing with his hands, its style was more or less restored. It would be just as before once it dried... Though Kazuo had half a mind to wash up the rest of him, considering it had been a couple of days. His gaze lifted to eye the windows, before dropping to glance down at his Uzi thoughtfully. He didn't want to afford the time to bathe. It would make him too vulnerable if someone showed up - which was more likely with the rain probably driving other participants to find shelter just as well.

He resolved to trudge for the couch, languidly seating himself there.

Setsuko set everything down on the wooden floor and massaged her arms as if they were sore. Her flesh was cold and damp against the lesser warmth of her fingertips. Random patches of her grey dress were dark with water, especially around the shoulders and the skirt. She could spot the droplets that clung to her hair from the corner of her eye; her fingers clawed and swept through the dark silk.

It was a little warmer in the house, and the rain made the air noticeably cool. Warm enough that she slipped out of her shoes and felt the softening wood through her soles.

She frowned and pushed the door until it clicked; then the blinds were pulled down halfway. Setsuko stared through a thin line in the blinds before she turned around and looked at her companion shyly. Her eyes were somewhat downcast, but enough to meet his eyes. It was as if she was asking to sit next to him.

Moments after sitting, he felt an involuntarily shiver crawl through him, a small chill from damp clothes and cool air. When Setsuko caught his gaze, his eyes were what admitted her warmth was tempting. They softened a little, albeit reluctantly, and subtle hints of nervousness flickered through them. But Kazuo gave a short upward nod to signal his companion closer - despite the anxiety that ghosted across his features.

Yet when Setsuko stepped over, after just seconds of moving within range, Kazuo leaned forward suddenly to catch her at the waist and throw-tackle her onto the couch. He crouched over top of her, nervousness still coating his features, frozen there for a moment as if he hadn't thought through what to do next. But the chill seeping into his lanky frame pushed him to continue the pursuit of the warmth he remembered; he hugged Setsuko's hips with his knees, and leaned forward with shaking breath to press his lips against hers, rather awkwardly at first, until his mouth recalled the warmth it was met with and began to actively, more naturally kiss for it.

She gasped in surprise at the tightened sensation around her waist and the sudden force and weight of his frame, along with the confining cushions behind her. Her breaths became somewhat heavy and strained. The first thing she noticed were his legs pressing into the sides of her hips, and that her strange position had pushed her skirt up a few inches above her knees.
The sensation of Kazuo’s lips lured a soft moan from her throat while her heart fluttered. He was being tender, unconventionally so, but he sent warm chills down her backbone.

She slowly kissed him back and allowed her hands to wander and clasp his shoulders with hunger, as if she had suddenly become aware. Her back arched as she sat up and her front became warm from his skin, and her lips became more demanding and ravenous.

His hand moved to cup her jaw and grasp her throat once she reciprocated, not threateningly but in a more secure hold than would normally be exercised in a kiss - as if he would prevent her from pulling away should she try to. As her kissing grew more aggressive, a sudden surge of heat pooled into his loins, driving a breathless sound from his throat and pushing him to kiss harder in return. His teeth snared her already battered lips, gnawing and nipping until a familiar metallic tang reached his tongue.

Breathing hard, Kazuo slipped his arm out of the Uzi strap and pushed the end of the gun between the cushions and the back of the couch like a holster, so it was tucked away to the side but readily reachable. His hands shifted to reach up Setsuko's dress, in turn pushing it up as his fingers spidered to grasp her underwear. By the time he moved for his belt buckle, the chill of the rain was already long forgotten.

She mewled into his mouth as she felt a grip around her throat, and it only excited her further. The area between her legs became warm with excitement. She moved her hips as if to shift the familiar tingling around. Her fingers pinched the rough fabric of his blazer when his teeth seized her lips; one hand relinquished its grip when she felt him shift.

Setsuko rewarded Kazuo with another moan when she felt him under her skirt. The sheer elastic of her smallclothes dug into one side of her hip at his grasp. His fingertips were able to pull a moan from her mouth as they brushed against her skin. She pulled up her skirt on one side to clasp the other end of her underwear. Her motions were slow and awkward, but she eventually managed to shimmy out of the fabric and it was immediately pushed out of her mind when they fell to the floor. The heat between her legs alleviated somewhat, but it only became hotter when she kissed him back to deepen the exhilarating rush of pain and blood. Her fingers undid a few of the buttons around her collar, with no intentions of revealing herself; it was as if she was pulling her clothes away to absorb more of his warmth.

There was no hesitating to put a pause in their passion like the first time. Kazuo was quick to clear his lower half of clothes, though only as much as necessary, before uniting with Setsuko again. His kissing grew dazed, his lips and teeth trailing down her throat when he spared the attention for it. His hips rocked and soon fell into a steadily climbing rhythm.

Heady breaths and mixed moans later, and his climax wrought a shudder through his frame and a hard groan from between his lips. He did not linger inside Setsuko like before, parting from her gently and pulling his boxers and pants back on. Absently, he noticed how the rain had quieted through his own and his companion's weary breathing. But he did not appear in a rush to leave just yet; his weight lowered onto Setsuko, and he let his head slowly drop to rest on her chest. His dark eyes were glassy, completely hollow of feeling or thought while he focused solely on the soothing ebb of warmth across his skin.

Setsuko remained still before she quickly unlatched her bra and held Kazuo close when he returned to her. Her thoughts slowly began to diminish when they were together; as he moved inside of her, she was not thinking at all.

Time passed, and the girl had reached her peak. She let out a soft cry and clung to him as her core shuddered and tightened around him. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths; she shivered when he pulled away from her and shut her eyes. Setsuko thought of dressing, but dismissed the idea and remained.

The girl slowly became aware of the warmth that started to trickle out onto her thighs. As she shifted to pull her skirt down, she slowly panicked.
Setsuko’s nervousness was short-lived, though. A sudden weight was pressed against her and she opened her eyes. She saw that Kazuo had rested his head on her chest.

He was warm, and his hair tickled her skin. Her eyes became warm, and her arms snaked over what she could hold over his frame. She slowly started to comb through his hair and bony fingers tried to find the smooth skin of his face. Her throat subtly undulated as she swallowed. While she was happy, a small part of her was afraid with how he was constantly wavering between violence and tenderness.

His breathing calmed, even grew restful enough it could be presumed he had dozed off. Yet his eyes remained open, staring emptily out at the room but obviously not really seeing, as if he might have fallen asleep with his eyes open. But as the minutes drifted by and the rain outside continued to quiet, eventually Kazuo raised off of his companion, shifting to sit at the opposite end of the couch and allow Setsuko the space to continue lying there or move as she wished.

His gaze appeared to wake up a little. The beginnings of anxiety creased his features, and he brought his hand to wipe across his face and rub at his eyes like a drowsy child. The same dark circles about his eyes that he had had when Setsuko met him had remained there through the whole game; it was obvious his bizarre sleep schedule did no favors for his body, even if he seemed well enough accustomed to it. His gaze shifted to the submachine gun he had left tucked into the couch cushions beside Setsuko, and he leaned over to grab it by the strap and pull it free to sling back onto his arm - though he did not stand from the couch yet.

With the weight of his body gone, Setsuko breathed inwardly and slowly sat up. She seemed to inch away without moving and covered herself as if she was shy. Despite her stance, she quickly retrieved her underwear from the floor and pulled them on.

She looked over at him before returning to the couch. Her eyes softened when she noticed his anxieties, only to look away and started buttoning her collar.
They had joined and tasted pleasure again, despite her companion’s earlier venom. Her teeth took hold of the inside of her lower lip and she quivered. They bit down with anger and created new wounds on top of the old. She tasted a newer, fresher stream of blood.

I can’t take this anymore.

Setsuko snapped around to look at him. Her mouth was unmoving, but her eyes were lit by her old, same questions. They were also overflowing with confusion.

"Well, it's happened again." She kept her voice toneless and rested her chin on her palm. She was probably going to regret this. "You...didn't kill me near the sea. Then we become intimate hours later. What's going on?"

Without looking at Setsuko, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and began to knead his face with both hands like an exasperated parent dealing with the incessant questions of a child.

His hands fell after a moment, and at a perfectly leisurely pace, one moved to crawl into a grip over the Uzi at his side. Still with utter nonchalance, he lifted the weapon to aim at Setsuko as casually as if it was routine. His eyes were empty at first - indifferent. But gradually they gained a perturbed look, and his brows knit somewhat. His breath deepened a little. His gaze was hard, weary... and on some level a kind of fearful.

Kazuo was still for at least a minute, maybe more, before the gun was slowly lowered, though he kept his hold on it absently. He stared at Setsuko, casting that bitter, faintly hurt look before shifting his gaze away.

Setsuko withdrew when the submachine gun came into view, but she pressed her lips together and stared into the dark eternal tunnel. She lowered her head slightly when she noticed his calm demeanor slowly fade. The girl held her head and stared at him; her eyes widened in surprise when he lowered the Uzi.

She continued to watch him. Her eyes moved up and down his body slowly, as if she was scanning him. Her lips parted when she caught glance of his bitter façade. The corners of her mouth creased apologetically. Setsuko scooted towards him with the careful, static movements of a deer.

It was certainly nice to be with him...to be touched. Yet, she was so intent on getting him to admit...feelings...that might not even exist. She rose to crouch and brushed her lips against his cheek and moved towards his lips. There was no hint of desire in her kisses. In fact, it was as if she was trying to comfort him with her touch. She made a soft sound, as if she wanted to speak, but it died away. There was silence, followed by a sigh before she rested her head on his shoulder.