Gunpoint Kiss- The Roleplay Before the Writing

She inched forward to deepen the kiss, but in mere seconds, the precious warmth at her mouth disappeared entirely and she was knocked back. The force of the push was not great, but it caught her by surprise and she stumbled. The movement was followed by absolute stillness. Her head was downcast and chest rose and fell deeply, even though the kiss had not restricted her breathing; it was all from excitement.

Setsuko’s eyes remained on the linoleum floor. She paid little attention to her breaths, which became steadier in progression. Her head tilted up, moving slowly as if her muscles were strained. She fixed her eyes on him; her pupils followed his wavering head.

“Was that too much?”

Even though Kazuo was not answering her, Setsuko felt comfortable speaking.

The wild-haired youth glanced at his companion only fleetingly. The disconcerted look clinging to his face deepened, and his arms crossed over his chest tightly in a withdrawn posture. He was still turned away from Setsuko. His breathing remained hard - but was, at least, steady.

He offered no answer as he took a few more slow steps away, pacing through the debris littering the floor. His shoes seemed to collect as much dust and dirt as they did blood. One of the arms across his chest shifted to scratch at the wound of the other, which made him pause and glance down, recalling the injury. It didn't hurt or sting; just itched. He started to tug at the bandages until pulling them off, raising his arm closer to his face for inspection.

Kazuo had always hated getting hurt. In particular when something would scab, because it was always a long healing process for him when he couldn't resist picking open a healing wound to draw out fresh blood... as he began just that on his arm.

Setsuko’s chest continued to rise and fall. The deep movements at her chest only eased slightly. She swallowed hard when he crossed his arms, but she noticed that he was perplexed above anything. Still, she looked away and averted her eyes once more.

The sound of gauze and woven cloth being torn eventually made her head turn towards him. Her eyes found the wound on his arm. It had a thin layer of scabbing, which formed quickly, but now it was being picked open.
Normally, Setsuko would not have cared, especially as she was guilty of picking open wounds herself, but not now. She walked towards him with nervousness alight in her eyes.

“Stop that, right now!” She did not shout, but her voice was harsh. “Your hands are filthy. You’re going to get that wound infected!”

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the chair where she discarded the medical kits. She released her hold and unlatched one of the boxes.

“You should sit down.”

Just as he looked up to the sound of his companion's footsteps, she had already reached him and was berating him for touching the injury. A sour look crossed his features again. Kazuo hated being told what to do - but all of a sudden his hand was being ripped away from the wound and he found himself dragged off toward a chair.

The second his hand was released, it flew for his Uzi. Another second and the end of the submachine gun was pressed to the side of Setsuko's head. Kazuo's gaze was dark. His eyes seemed near pitch black, and seethed with hostility, the beginnings of the violent, monstrous look he had had when he kicked her on the floor before. The look completely lacking so much as a speck of pity or humanity; just pure and bloodthirsty hatred, unfiltered by any sense of morals or guilt.

His breath came hard and even. It was obvious no matter what amount of trust or even affection had been exchanged between them, Kazuo was not going to let his companion forget just what he was capable of - or that he was in charge. Kazuo Kiriyama was a creature to be feared, and he would not let that slip Setsuko's mind too frequently.

It had to have been at least a whole minute before he lowered the Uzi, though he kept it in his hand as he sat down. His breathing slowly calmed somewhat. His gaze remained hard, but lost the abyssal, menacing look, and dropped to stare the floor. The boy's demeanor had turned detached... which certainly seemed better than his pitiless killer mode, at least.

She was peeling off the waxy wrappings around the bandages when something cold was pressed against the side of her head. Setsuko gasped but did not turn around; instead, her eyes turned in their sockets until the strain became painful. The girl could only make out a shapeless black mass from the corner of her eye. Her head turned only a few degrees before the darkness came into focus.

A cold, unending exterior of a thin and black tunnel was the first thing she saw; it became thicker and more mechanical as her gaze moved upward. By now, she was shaking in small spasms, yet it was with the frequency of a leaf in a strong wind. Her eyes lingered on his hands for a moment, and then drifted up to his wounded arm. But when she reached his eyes, a distressed whimper escaped her lips. Setsuko became cold, like she was tossed in a winter thicket. She could not look away, his dark, loathsome eyes held her in a hateful trance. They were even blacker than the weapon he held.

Her eyes were wide and her shaking became harder, and nothing changed when Kazuo finally lowered the gun. She closed them and breathed in; the girl was only slightly relieved that his monstrous air was evaporating. Yet other thoughts strung up her nerves.

Despite their shared affections, he still did not hesitate to put the gun to her head. He had complete control.
Her breathing deepened to slow the rapid beats of her heart. She had a job to do.

Setsuko wordlessly reached into the kit and opened the bottle of cleaning alcohol, running a stream of it over her hands to sterilize. After wetting a white cloth, she started to attend to his arm. The familiarity of the activity alleviated some of her tension, and the shaking stopped over time. She shifted forward and knelt down beside him to start wrapping the roll of gauze. Her touch was hesitant at first, but she eased into it. Kazuo’s warmth soothed her, even though his murderous desires were what scared her in the first place. He was the only comfort she had, now.
She cut the excess of the bandages with her shears and affixed the ends together. Instead of moving away, the girl shifted closer to him and remained still.

After a moment, Kazuo resumed picking at the wound again, and continued right up until Setsuko reached for it. He looked away disappointedly, as he had just managed to draw blood - but he knew he would have to avert his gaze to keep from undoing everything his companion was working on.

He glanced down at her when she had finished, but just briefly before turning away again. He sighed and sat back in his seat, letting his head loll back wearily as if his short episode of hostility had worn him out. His hand still clung loosely to the submachine gun, though he did not look as keen on using it as he had only moments before. His dark eyes grew glassy as he stared up at the ceiling emptily.

Her nerves took a while to settle, and even when the strong panic fled, the residue dread remained. There were even some moments where she shook, but they quickly passed and died down.

Most of the dread mixed into wariness towards her companion’s bloodlust. It pulled at her mind endlessly. It did not allow her to shift her attention elsewhere, not even to the remaining gauze that rested in her palm. She had to find some way to stave off this bloodlust, and fast. Minutes passed, and then she suddenly straightened up in her seat and perked up with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

She had it.

Setsuko quietly turned in the chair to put the forgotten supplies back in the white box, and started to chew on the inside of her cheek. The movement was too gentle, so she chewed harder and pushed her jaw forward so that her canine teeth could access the area; she was able to catch a part of the flesh between them. There was brief hesitation before she bit down harder. She flinched and bit again, and again. It took more bites before she tasted the metallic bitters of blood. Her wound was bigger than she intended, but not too much.
The girl swallowed to allow more blood than saliva to pool in her maw. A warm trickle escaped and ran down her chin. She desperately hoped that this would work.

With a slow turn, Setsuko found her companion. She reached out and grabbed his hand in a swift motion. He was brought to the edge of her lower lip before she opened her mouth to let the blood creep onto his fingers.

Kazuo appeared to have spaced out, so even as Setsuko straightened and shifted he paid her no mind, and his eyes did not move from the ceiling. So when she suddenly snatched his hand, he jumped.

When he looked over, it was at first with a building fury... before his gaze focused in on the warm trail of red that slithered down his fingers from his companion's open mouth.

A simultaneously horrified and terrified look swept over his features - the kind of look a fish might give a worm on a hook could it realize the bait's purpose while still being unable to resist.

His breath grew hard and erratic. The hand holding onto his Uzi left the gun to grip the side of Setsuko's face, its thumb pushing its way through a corner of her lips where blood also spilled dribbling down it. Haphazardly, with barely a mind as to what he was doing, Kazuo crawled his way out of the chair, pushing Setsuko over in the process and soon crawling overtop of her. His Uzi clattered against the floor quickly followed by the thump of his bag, but their protests did not deter him. Though his face still looked fearful all the while, he bent closer to reach Setsuko's bleeding mouth with his lips. The kiss escalated fast; at first he only shoved his lips against hers as if he had forgotten how to kiss altogether, but in seconds the kiss grew hungrier, and it was only another moment until his tongue dove for her mouth after the familiar iron it could taste. The terror gradually drained from Kazuo's face in his ravenous kissing, though a troubled look lingered in it even as his eyes glazed and shut.

Setsuko shivered and closed her eyes when his hand reached the side of her face. She could smell a light hint of his scent and she leaned into his grip. A single, sharp breath escaped her reddened lips when she felt his thumb wandered inside to find more blood.

Just as she was about to push more blood out of her mouth, she felt a sudden push and she was falling down. Her eyes shot open just as she hit the floor. She yelped softly, moreover out of surprise than of pain, although the slight bruising on her back protested. Her arms were splayed in a perfect angle and her hands were parallel to her head. There was no time to shift, as she was soon straddled with his weight. A fire ignited in her stomach when she felt him close and her eyes fluttered shut.

His lips were a warm haven. She craned her neck forward to press into him and groaned when the kiss became stronger. Setsuko’s eyes slowly closed and she teasingly grazed her teeth along his entering tongue and pressed her own muscle against his. The blood was still bitter, but the heat in her stomach and the sweetness at her lips distracted her from the unpleasant taste. Her index finger toyed with a loose lock of hair while her free hand cupped the side of his face.
It did not take long for her heart rate to rise, and she had to pull away to breathe before plunging back into the kiss hungrily.

The welcome taste permeating their kiss made him want to tear her face apart, to rip open her skin and cover her in blood. His hands clawed down her waist to suggest as much while he balanced on his knees, breath heady as his multi-tasking made his kiss about as sloppy as it was aggressive. He clutched Setsuko's dress tightly between his fingers just as his teeth seized her bottom lip. Her frame was warm beneath him, and he could feel a heat pooling into his crotch again. But this time the hunger there was familiar, and he knew what it wanted.

This time, he knew what to do to make it stop. But Kazuo had more sense than before; he paused in his furious kissing, gaze lifting to sweep the clinic and its windows. He tried to calm his breathing momentarily in order to listen. His caution was short-lived, however, and after barely a minute, he slipped his bag and submachine gun off his shoulder - though he did not push them out of arms' reach.

Even with the experience of before, his chest began to ache with anxiety when his hands moved for his belt. Nervousness still crossed his face. Dark eyes flickered between the task at hand and checking his surroundings, but avoided his companion's gaze.

The sudden feeling of his hands at her waist made her groan into their kiss and the warmth in her stomach was pushed down. Some of the heat trickled out and made her flesh tingle. More pooled out as she felt his teeth at her lip. The wounds were still healing and tender, but the sting excited her and she reflexively bucked her hips.

Setsuko looked at him with half-lidded eyes when he paused and held her breath for him to listen. She exhaled when Kazuo cast the bag and submachine gun aside. Her fingers started to unlatch the buttons beneath her collar, but her eyes wandered towards the area just under his belt. The girl’s eyes were half-glazed, half-thoughtful.

She stopped fidgeting with the buttons and pushed herself up, leaving only one clasped. Her body shifted so that her knees could press onto the cold linoleum. Setsuko pressed her lips against his before going down. Her knees did not provide enough support, as she had to stab her elbows onto the floor to keep from falling over. Her fingers grasped the tails of Kazuo’s white shirt and pulled them away from his pants. She crawled closer towards him to plant a kiss on his abdomen, just above the waistband.

He finally looked to Setsuko when she began to sit up, eventually forcing him to rear back onto his knees. His brows knit. His eyes, though glassy with desire, grew darker; he was just about to shove the girl back down when she reunited their lips... before moving down his front.

Though Kazuo was far from sexually experienced, he was by no means naive. He felt his chest flutter with some mix of anxiety and excitement, and a sudden tension that built in his loins and pressed against his pants as his fingers worked ever more hastily at the button. He gave a shiver at the brush of cloth over his hips when Setsuko moved his shirt away, and breathed hard - verging on a short moan - at the warm kiss that reached his waist. He afforded another brief glance around before unzipping and pushing his pants down to mid-thigh, his hand next flitting to the waistband of his boxers, though it hesitated there as his fingers more tentatively grasped the elastic.

He felt certain this would not be the same. His gaze drifted down toward his companion's nether regions, and he couldn't help but wonder if he should bother with anything else...

Setsuko felt her face burn with red as she looked away from the display. Her heart raced when she heard the rustling of fabric and every inch of her body became hotter. Slowly, her gaze returned to Kazuo. She looked up at him once before her grip joined his along the obstructing smallclothes, kissing his stomach and inhaling his scent before slowly pulling down.

Her kisses did not end. They became a frantic, almost obsessive trail down his abdomen. She stopped pulling down and jumped in surprise. Her lips brushed against fine, yet wiry hair. She stayed still, surprised that she had trailed down that far. Setsuko looked up at him once more before lowering herself towards him, hesitating only once before taking him into her mouth.

He was rigid, yet the skin was incredibly soft between her lips; the sensation was...nice. Her tongue curved upward against his flesh as her neck and head moved forwards and back awkwardly.

No sooner had he hesitated, than his companion took hold of his boxers for him. More nervousness flickered through his heart. The kisses down his stomach made him shiver again; he felt his diaphragm retract reflexively in answer, akin to being ticklish, though otherwise he wasn't.

So focused on the kisses, Kazuo barely noticed as his boxers were dragged downward. Still, he didn't dare look down, letting his eyes drift shut but for occasional glances ahead. They fell shut tighter at the warmth that enveloped him; it was not as full or hot or immediate as his member's first experience, but it was enough to coax a soft moan from his throat, especially as a wet tongue pressed against his flesh. Though one hand maintained its position to help hold his boxers down, the other reached for Setsuko's head, fingers combing into her soft, dark hair. Pleasantly soft, like rabbit fur - and invitingly warm like the rest of her.

His fingers curled into a slight grip when his companion started to move. There was the occasional grazing of teeth, and it made him suddenly anxious to have something so vulnerable in someone else's jaws... but he couldn't focus long enough to really worry about it. His breath came in hard, erratic pants. Heat fluctuated through his core, driving him to a familiar hunger until his grip on Setsuko's head involuntarily grew more insistent, holding her closer against him as he steadily needed more.

A shaky fog of breath escaped her nostrils when her hair was touched. She could hear Kazuo’s noises, each one goaded her further, deeper. The awkward movement slowly became more confident while she was wary of her teeth near the tender skin.

She felt her scalp get tighter as he pulled her closer. The sensation was anything but uncomfortable. With his skin still soft on her lips, she complied with his grasp and took more of his member in. The act was gradual; Setsuko continued with the movement with her neck while going deeper when she pushed forward.

The girl pulled away when she felt a prod at the start of her throat, more in surprise rather than a threat of choking. Still, she was near him, and her tongue emerged to tease him on the underside of his cock before embracing him with her lips and enjoying his taste.

Short, soft sounds began to escape him with each breath, and his hips started to move on instinct, subtly pushing toward the source of pleasure as his hand sifted absently through silky hair. His head tilted back, lips parting with his hard breaths. His hold pulled Setsuko close; his grip became more demanding over time until it was obvious he could pay no mind to his companion's comfort. Waves of heat and ecstasy poured through his abdomen at every undulation of lip and tongue, and minutes later the boy's frame shuddered, and his grip tensed, fingers clutching onto Setsuko's scalp.

Kazuo hunched over somewhat, his entire arm snaking around Setsuko's head as if to hold her as close as possible while his stomach moved in great waves with suddenly labored breathing. Finally, a hard moan crawled free as a few short throbs of his cock found release. Setsuko had no opportunity to pull away, firmly held captive as Kazuo's climax dragged out.

He savored the warmth of her mouth before his grip softened to allowed her to move free, though his fingers trailed through her hair in almost a stroking gesture... almost affectionately. Dark eyes drifted open, glazed with a weary bliss. Still, he wasted no time tucking his recovering member back into his boxers and pulling his pants back up. His gaze dropped so his attention could shift to zipping and buttoning.

The tightness pulling on her skin was increasing, to the point of pain. Pain that she was not immune to, she certainly expressed discomfort through throbbing breaths. Yet, the pain traveled down her spine towards her core and it created a rush of warmth between her legs. The near-silent chorus of his breathing was a distraction from the pull on her skin.

At first, she made a surprised sound at the sudden spurts of his climax that poured into her mouth. It was warm...but the taste fascinated her. Setsuko’s throat contracted in a swallow, and his seed went down. The tightness around her head lifted considerably and was replaced by the feeling of her hair being brushed. She released Kazuo’s flesh from the embrace of her mouth, but stayed down to soak in his affections.
Her head tilted upwards to sigh happily as he brushed through her hair.

When Kazuo stopped brushing to dress, she rose to kneel and flinched at the strain of her sore back. Her gaze dropped before she tucked a stray lock of black behind her ear. His taste was still fresh in her mouth, and to a lesser degree, her blood. The cinnabar red was not flowing as freely anymore, and the wound would close soon. Setsuko crawled to the side to kiss him on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder, as to not interrupt his activity.

He gave a subtle flinch at the kiss on his cheek... though his tolerance for such gestures seemed to be gradually improving. When he had finished with his pants, he glanced fleetingly at Setsuko before lowering to sit on his legs. He could feel his knees were somewhat sore from kneeling on the hard floor... but that would fade soon enough.

The wild-haired youth sighed softly. He felt tired again. But he didn't want to rest here... the place was a wreck after his hand grenades, and the more time that passed, the more the corpse outside was going to smell.

Kazuo reluctantly climbed to his feet, collecting his bag and Uzi on the way up. He rested a hand against his forehead as if he may have had a headache. The back of his mind was buzzing with emotions. He felt strange.

Setsuko had lured him in - easily, even. He had lost control. Yet instead of using that to her advantage, she only gave to him, without taking or asking for anything in return. Kazuo didn't like the connotations of such behavior.

He hated the connotations of such behavior.

But he hated the connotations of everything they had done. He couldn't even bear to think about it. Unconsciously, the boy had begun pacing, still with his hand at his forehead and his fingers clawing into his tangled hair. His mind felt too busy with things he didn't want to think about. His breath began to pick up somewhat.

This was not what he had volunteered for.

Setsuko remained on the floor and moved so that she sat on the side of her left thigh, legs splayed. Her frail and thin fingers combed over the side of her scalp in an attempt to mimic his motions through the raggedy, black silk. The action provided no comfort, not like when he had stroked her. The sensation of his touch was still there, at least.

As her companion started to pace, she lowered her hand from her head and allowed it to rest on her lap. Her eyes were radiant with concern as their gaze hovered over Kazuo. The initial happiness and excitement, even the satisfaction of pleasing him, started to fade. She turned her head to the side, but kept watch from the corner of her eye.

Never before did Narita Setsuko think that within the confines of one day that she would experience Heaven and Hell simultaneously.
One arm curled around her stomach and she hunched over, as if something heavy was placed on her back. It felt...wrong to pursue Kazuo through this hellish Game, yet it was simultaneously right to share comfort. It was just as hard to think of where they stood, what they were.

Her breathing became uneasy. She needed to escape her own mind.

“What now? Of us, I mean.” Setsuko’s voice sounded strained. “I think it’s odd to not admit anything and then have this happen for a *second* time.”

Kazuo paused, glancing to his companion when she spoke up again. His only faintly troubled expression turned more distinctly sour. All he wanted to do was not think about or even acknowledge any of this, yet Setsuko seemed insistent on bringing it up time and time again, and every time she did it just led to more.

His fists clenched at his sides. Dark eyes shifted restlessly across the debris on the floor before tentatively lifting to Setsuko, though only for a moment. ".... Shut up," he murmured, turning briskly then for the door. He was quiet - had the clinic been any louder, he might not have been audible. But from what could be heard, his voice began initially hoarse, probably evidence of how long it had been since he had used it.

His brief glare, like his words, was rather half-hearted - timid, almost.

He spoke.

She threw her palm violently onto the floor and fell on her backside. Her pleading eyes became wide with wonder; the façade melted once more when her brows furrowed and the familiar cocktail of pain and hurt became obvious.
Setsuko’s lips curled, but for the first time, her tongue was useless. Even as Kazuo turned towards the door, the girl was silent and stationary. She clamored for answers in her stillness and hung her head down.

They were answers that only he could give.

Slowly, she lifted herself from the ground and brushed past him on the way to the door. Setsuko turned around and stood in the way, her arms crossed in a defiant stance.

He barely paused, scowling, when Setsuko rushed past to stand in his way, and he did not hesitate to try roughly shoving past her. He did not invest much strength in the push, but he didn't have to, either; she was smaller than him, and he was strong enough that his strength permeated any forceful effort - including his effort to get to the door.

No more words were offered for any reassurance they had ever happened to begin with. Already, Kazuo regretted letting the first two slip. Most times he expressed himself just fine without talking... but on very rare occasions, words came to him, sometimes more or less involuntarily. But he could tell it was a mistake letting Setsuko know that.

Her lips became a thin line at his approach, and her eyes had not lost their insolence. But the stance was shattered when Kazuo moved against her. Setsuko was roughly shoved to the side and she shivered slightly at the sudden kisses of cold air against her legs when her skirt undulated.

The girl retreated into her stationary state when her back hit the doorway edge. When he spoke, it was as if he uttered a spell to ensnare her voice. She hung her head down, a sign that she was still desperate for answers.
Yet with this sudden turmoil, she became sure of a few things. She had to keep up with him. She had to. Even though she was unsure of how many Participants in this damn game remained, Setsuko was becoming paranoid.

The next part was somewhat hard to admit.

Even though she was completely unsure of where they stood, that would not stop her from finding solace in him. It no longer mattered that Kiriyama Kazuo was a killer. It didn’t. All she knew was that she trembled at his touch and she felt this wonderful, warm feeling when he was near. She would have to deal with the hollowness and confusion later.

While she wanted to continue pushing him towards an answer, it probably wasn’t wise. She prayed that patience would pave the way.

Setsuko became aware of another feeling. Hunger had been trickling into her stomach for some time, but now it was an entirely different beast that tore into her. It had been a while since she had eaten. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she wandered towards Kazuo and pulled on his sleeve.

“Do you have anymore bread?”

Out the door, there was a whole few minutes of walking before Kazuo hesitantly peered over his shoulder to check if Setsuko was following. The glance was brief; he quickly turned his gaze ahead again once assured she was behind him… probably because it wasn't like him to give two shits if she was still following or not. His eyes were bitter and troubled, as if he had been reminded of a sour memory and couldn't shake it from his mind.

At the tentative, child-like tug on his sleeve, he jumped a little, ripping his arm away from the girl as icy hostility flashed through his features. The fierce look relented somewhat once Kazuo processed her question. He reached to unzip his bag, a hand diving in to feel around until pulling out what was left of the bread, then ripping a portion off to hand to his companion. All the while, he avoided eye contact, a bitter expression lingering in his face.

She took the bread and bent her back in a small, curt bow in gratitude.

“Thank you.”

Her thumb and forefinger curled around the bread as she brought it to her mouth, leaving her other fingers up to mask her biting and chewing. As she ate, she managed to walk abreast with him, only to come to a complete stop. Her head turned to the side, and then her body followed. A thoughtful, yet somehow blank stare pooled into her eyes as she watched the slightly obscured coast.
She had pushed the sound of the lapping waves out of her mind, until now.

Before she could really wonder why, Setsuko remembered the dream of the waters that permeated her psyche hours ago.

Her eyes narrowed and her breathing became unsteady.