Gunpoint Kiss- The Roleplay Before the Writing

((Good luck finding one. I hope you have a good time.))

The map did not hurt, but she was humiliated nonetheless. So what if she wasn't the best fighting tactician? She was doing her end of the deal. His eyes were absorbed in the map, trying to work out the advice she had given him. A small spark of pride ignited within her. He was actually listening to her. But they moved on indefinitely, towards the clearing, but something stopped both of them. It was not the male voice that resounded through the island moments ago, but it was singular, as if spoken through a megaphone. There was shouting from the other end of the clearing.
"We call a truce!...We don't want to fight!"
He smiled, but it upset her. A predatory smile. As if he wanted to further discomfort her, he let out a breathy laugh. The end of the Uzi was at her face again. Another distressed whimper came from her. She could never get used to that. He pointed at the ground then back at her, then repeated once again.

Brows furrowed, she nodded her head to say that she understood. She would be a good little guide and stay put.
"Don't forget about me, you hear?" Setsuko hissed loud enough for him to hear.
As he walked off, she walked around in a circle, fingering the shears that were askew on the sewn-on ribbon. He was already ascending the hill.
"Be careful." Not sure if he had heard her, she walked in another circle and sat on the ground.
Her eyes followed him as he climbed the hill. He was quick about it, a natural-born athlete. At least she was alive, it could be worse. He did hold true to his end of the deal, after all. Although he made it clear that he did not trust her, and enjoyed reminding her that he was dangerous and was to be feared. Another shotgun went off, she jumped again.
"Please don't forget about me."

(( Fffff I may have just acquired the neighbor's internet~! Because he gave me his wifi password. :D ))


His scurrying up the hill slowed as he crept toward the edge of the woods to double-check just how many kids were on the overlook. Two small girls, just as he had thought. Still waving and shouting. Asking for it. Dumb fucks.

An electric look of bloodlust sparked suddenly in the boy's eyes, and a Cheshire grin spilled over his lips.

Typewriter-esque gunfire erupted across the overlook. Kazuo paid little mind to aim; especially wielding the submachine gun one-handed, it took a fair amount of concentration just to hold it steady, and his lips slowly puckered as his expression turned momentarily focused. But this didn't trouble him any. After sweeping his line of fire across each girl twice, they were both on the ground, and he hopped down onto the overlook, stepping closer with an ecstatic grin. His pace was lax, his stride languid. There was no rush now. The white dress shirts of the girls' uniforms were spotted with red, and all other color seemed to fade from Kazuo's vision, his dark eyes taking on an unsettling calm. One of the girls made the mistake of writhing.

A smile crept into his features. His gaze shifted to the girls' megaphone on the ground beside them, and he glanced once between the still-dying girl and what must have been her or her friend's assigned 'weapon'. The lanky youth bent over to pick it up, lifting it to his lips. He puffed air into the speaker twice upon turning it on. Perfectly functional. Good.

He stepped over to the girl emitting steady whimpers, giving her a hard kick in the gut to roll her over onto her back. The cry his kick wrought from her only made his grin broaden. Next he positioned his feet on either side of her, and - megaphone in one hand, Uzi in the other - leaned down to bring the speaker to her lips... just in time to catch an agonized moan that crawled out of her throat and escalated into a whine. Her pained sounds carried through the megaphone, and from the overlook carried gloriously across the clearing.

His finger pressed down on the trigger of his submachine gun, and the odor of the gun's smoke trailed upward into his nostrils. It was a smell he was really beginning to like. The megaphone amplified the girl's dying screams as her insides were ripped to pieces by bullets, and only once her screaming stopped did Kazuo release the trigger, grinning. His smile stuck persistently as he stepped away, discarding the megaphone. He vaguely heard the male voice shouting from the other end of the clearing, but did not even process what was being said, and instead took to poking through the girls' duffel bags. One of their assigned 'weapons' was the megaphone, so one bag was empty... but from the other, he pulled out a sheathed, medium-length blade he recognized as a wakizashi, a companion blade to a katana.

Kazuo enjoyed blades. But firearms were much more useful in the Program... Regardless, he stashed the wakizashi away in his own bag, just in case. It would be really fun if he had the chance to use it. He paused, then, before turning to head back down the hill, eyeing the rest of the bag's contents. Smile finally fading somewhat, he swiped up a partly-eaten loaf of bread and an unopened water bottle, then moving off back into the foliage and down the hill. He knew he would have to put some distance between him and the site of the kill; all the gunfire had a chance of attracting others.

When he reached his companion again, he stopped, staring at her as if she was familiar but he could not quite place her. The predatory look still lingered in his eyes. But after a moment of rather dangerously climbing tension, his gaze dropped and he pitched his newly acquired water bottle at the girl - literally throwing it for her head with obvious intention of really hitting her. The extra bread, however, he had stuffed away into his bag. After hurling his water bottle at the girl, he promptly turned to keep walking, though he took out his map while he moved to briefly check it. E8 was a danger zone. Other than that, the way was clear for him to continue his pursuit of the source of the earlier gunfire.

((Pffffft. Lucky!))

Gunshots caused her to back up towards a tree, putting her hands over her ears. Only those that quick could be from...from an Uzi.
He *was* one of the more crazed students. That, or the girl calling for a truce was a rare case.
Either way.
He killed them.
What was to stop him from killing her, once he had no more use for her?
What?
Escape was an option for a later time, but she did not wish to go off alone. There did seem to be some harmless people on the island, but some were probably just as murderous.
A breath, followed by a sudden wailing in the air, the sound of a young girl in pain. It was amplified by a megaphone. Screams became louder as he pulled the trigger, and then it was quiet. There was another distant scream on the edge of the nearby clearing, a male voice. Heart in her throat, she choked and felt acids coming on a sudden journey from her stomach, but she swallowed that in.

Strange odors reached her nostrils and she looked over. He had returned, giving her a strange look, but it was nonetheless predatory. Setsuko stood up and tried to disappear into the tree, closing her eyes. Something had hit her in the head, hard. A shriek escaped her lips, she was expecting gunfire. None came. She reluctantly opened her eyes to see a bottle of water resting on the grass. Gratitude should have been shown, but she was shaking again. Anxiety and fear played at her body, making her shiver. He brushed past her, but she grabbed the shears and slashed them across a stone.
"Who the fuck are you?" She began to hyperventilate. A murmur. "...*what* are you?"

He glanced at his companion fleetingly at her short cry, but only to cast her a faint scowl of disapproval. It wasn't until she wrought her scissors across a stone that he paused, though he did not flinch at the sudden noise in the least. He partially turned to gaze back at her when she spoke, and a mocking kind of amusement played through his dark eyes, a smile flitting over his lips again though this time there was only a glimpse of shining, white teeth. The boy made no effort to hide how he enjoyed her fear. His hand adjusted its grip on the Uzi restlessly, almost hungrily, like he ached to lift it and riddle her with bullets no different than the two girls he had just killed on the overlook.

But, without shooting her and without answering her, his smile faded and he turned away again to keep walking, with no regard for if the girl followed.

Kazuo moved briskly through D7 and slightly less so through E7. He didn't pause again until he was nearly into F7, at which point he took out his water bottle for a drink. He glanced at the time and at his map, and decided he probably wouldn't take a real break until after the noon announcements, which wouldn't be for another few hours - if he was even tired by then. At a leisurely pace, Kazuo could walk for some time; his endurance and cardiac health was perhaps the only thing he had going for him in the way of athleticism. With the frame of a scarecrow lined only in a modest amount of lean muscle, brute strength was not his strong point, though he wasn't lacking stealth or speed.

Studying the map a moment more, he also decided to continue in this direction in the hopes of tracking the source of the earlier gunfire... cutting through the middle of the island straight down to what looked to be a clinic on the southern shore. Of course, should he run into any participants along the way or upon reaching the clinic, his direction would change from there...

Tucking his map away, the youth moved to press on.

As the smile played across his lips, the hollow feeling dug deeper into her body. Alone. She was truly alone. Her fear almost seemed to be sustenance to him, she was nothing more than someone to control. Despite this, he was her protector, and she had to do her best to be a guide. After all, there had to be something in the killing machine. He suddenly turned around and was on his way. She followed.

The water was warm, but it provided sustenance. But it was only one bottle, she would have to make it last for a while. She was getting hungry, but it would have to wait. It felt strange to have to carry it everywhere without a bag, but she supposed he wanted to keep his own things to himself, even though *her* medical supplies were in the there. They went on, a familiar pricking feeling hit her legs. Some pebbles were hitting her skin due to the awkward shuffle. Classmates used to throw the rubble at her legs, since they were thicker than the rest of the girls in her class. Her long, abundant teeth were also a conversation piece at school, but she was indifferent to the teasing. Setsuko thought that she had lovely legs and at least she kept her teeth clean. Memories were so distant, now, so far away.
The thoughts stopped as she collided into something. Not too hard, but she stumbled back. He had stopped for a drink, luckily nothing had been spilled, but he gave her a glance over the shoulder. The map had also been unfolded, child-like scribbling and all. They both looked at it, although she had to stand on tiptoe to see. Eyes widened as she noticed that a certain spot on the map had been labeled.
"The clinic. That's where gramma used to work." Setsuko muttered.
Her companion paid her no mind, as usual. But there were surely other students at the clinic, either torturing each other or getting healed up. Either way, she did not want to encounter them.

Walking had resumed. Setsuko could definitely take the long distance, but the hunger was really getting to her. Her stomach was growling quietly. Water could have taken care of the problem, but she needed to save it. Lack of sleep was also getting to her. It had seemed longer, but it was two days ago since the military took everyone off the island.
"Mmph..."
Weak. Why was she so weak? Again, she could stay the course, but rest would be welcomed. Eyes wandered over his body, widening as she saw that the bandages were getting stained with red.
"You're bleeding again..."

Kazuo continued on through F7, and partway through G7 he encountered a road. He glanced down both ways of the road carefully, but there was no sign of anybody. He wondered if any participants were stupid enough to follow the roads; nothing would surprise him after the two girls broadcasting their location from an overlook. He paused to eye his map again. Most of the island was still clear of danger zones but for a few scattered spots around the coast.

Putting his map away again, the boy moved into a crouch and scurried across the road hastily. It wasn't that he particularly cared who spotted him, but he did not want to be out in the open for long knowing there were other firearms floating around. He didn't seem to care if anyone spotted his companion, either, or how she fared; clearly, the girl was on her own. Once across the street, he continued just a little further into the foliage, so the road could still be glimpsed through the trees. He kept walking then, changing direction to follow alongside the road westward. Before he had even made it out of G7, however, noon announcements began.

The death rate had slowed considerably from the 6AM report. Just two boys... and two girls. Girl number six, Yukiko Kitano, and girl number seven, Yumiko Kusaka. He totaled seven kills now. He didn't expect to remember their names, nor was he going to bother writing them down.

He scribbled down the next round of danger zones as they were announced. Six more. Excluding the school's danger zone, there had been three announced earlier... Kazuo wondered if they doubled every report. A simple system, but interesting. He would keep it in mind to test his theory in the next report.

Almost forgetting about his thought to take a break after the noon announcements, the wild-haired youth paused to gauge how tired he was. Just taking a moment to shut his mind down and think about it, he realized his legs were weary, his lids were getting heavy, and he even felt vaguely light-headed upon standing still for long enough. Swaying somewhat where he stood, he turned to glance at his companion when she mentioned his injury. His eyes moved to look down at it but he quickly pulled them away.

Whatever. Kazuo sat down on the ground right where he was, leaning back against a tree trunk. He pried open his bag to take out the partly-eaten loaf of bread he had taken from one of his victims, tearing a bite out of it and chewing leisurely. His dark eyes gazed at the ground rather emptily, like his brain had turned off for all functions except eating. It wasn't many more bites into the bread before he returned it to his bag. With his bag at his side and his Uzi loosely in his hand, it didn't appear as though the boy was too keen on doing anything about his still-bleeding arm. He continued to sit in silence until, after a few minutes, his eyelids began fluttering shut. However, the youth was still sitting up; his head was not even drooping much at all, his arms propped up on his knees, his expression still serious and no more restful than before, yet his eyes were shut, his breathing was soft, and he held so perfectly still it seemed to be a possibility he was asleep...

Boy number six had not slept for almost two days. Regardless, such periods without sleep were not unusual for him, and any rest he managed through the Program would surely be no deeper nor longer than normal... that is, very light and very brief.

While she was happy to sit down, Setsuko was pretty hungry. She did not dare ask him for any food, but that did not stop her from eyeing the bread. Even though she did not particularly care for the stuff, it looked nice. A small look of disappointment spread across her features as he stuffed it back into the bag, though. She allowed herself a small bit of water, feeling better as she closed the top of the bottle.

The temptation to sleep almost overcame her as she watched him drift between consciousness. She needed to stay awake in case she saw other participants coming their way. Going back and forth from surveying to staring at her companion, she caught herself staring at him more.
The teen was undeniably handsome, despite the wild, bleached hair that had a strangely sweet smell that came from the mess. His facial structure, his somewhat pouty expression, and those eyes. Even if they instilled fear in her, the shape and color themselves were...nice. He fit what she found visually pleasing. He really did.
She inhaled sharply once she realized with how far her thoughts drifted, and buried her head into her knees.
No.
No.
No.
Red tinged her cheeks, and her abundant teeth gnashed against each other. Her eyes wandered over him again, demeaning herself once more as she felt an urge to run her hand over the side of his face.
No.
"...stupid bitch." Meaning every word, she took the shears from the ribbon belt and stabbed them into the closest thing possible: her left inward ankle. It didn't hurt. It would later, of course, but her mind was flashing too much to care. She was in an absolute rage. Once she pulled the shears away from her skin, she peered at him through the sanctuary of her knees. Eyes lingering, she sighed and a few tears began to fall. Not for the physical pain. The pain came from emotion. Setsuko felt for someone who saw her as something to control, who felt immense pleasure at seeing her cowering in fear of him. She did not even know his name. Of course, this attraction was mostly due to her visual preferences, but the investment of emotions had begun when she dragged him to her home. The teen honored his deal, and protected her in his own way.

After working up the gall to look at her wounds, she finally looked down. It was worse than she thought, and the pain had started to set in. What she thought was a bloody poke was a somewhat deep gash, and her scissors were covered in blood, almost to the hilt. Her eyes switched between the two, and she gave one look at him before she fell. The dark fabric of his uniform was her vision, and before she blacked out into unconsciousness, she held the shears to her breast.

Even shut, the boy's eyelids appeared to twitch as if blinking, suggesting he was either deep into REM sleep, or barely asleep at all. He remained still, his breathing growing steadily deeper, for almost an hour before his eyes blinked open again - drowsily at first, squinting in the shaded daylight of the woods. He was surprised no gunshots had stirred him... All he had heard in his light sleep had been some soft murmuring of his companion, and then a thump he had presumed was her lying down. Which looked to be about right, as his gaze drifted toward her.

Wakefulness billowed into his eyes then as his vision zeroed in on the mess of red at his companion's ankle. His gaze flickered between her face and her foot, but she did not look to be awake. He paused at spotting the scissors clutched against her chest. The dark look from before began hovering through his features again.

Kazuo sat up, glancing around once in case of anyone nearby before creeping forward on all fours - dragging his bag and Uzi with him - slinking low to the ground not unlike a cat preparing to pounce. But pouncing was not his aim; upon reaching his companion, he pulled the scissors from her grasp with ease and discarded them back toward the tree. He knew better than to startle someone with a weapon in their hand. Once the girl was unarmed, his attention shifted, and his eyes lit up briefly before falling into the eerie calm of earlier as he studied her bloodied ankle. He moved closer to it, taking to sitting on his knees, and - with a last glance toward her face to check that she remained undisturbed - slowly, carefully picked up her foot. He gently placed it in his lap like it was made of glass, and then tentatively felt over her ankle for the injury, trailing his fingertips through the blood until he reached the open gash. His face focused and serene as if in a trance, Kazuo applied a gradual amount of pressure to the wound, watching unblinkingly as fresh blood gushed out of it and over his fingertips. The most vivid red of the fresh blood poured over the deeper red of the drying blood, all flowing across the small, dark landscape that was the wound itself.

He kept pressing at the wound, and when it seemed to be too full of blood to bleed any further, he wiped at it with his palm and then resumed pressing to draw out yet more of the substance. By his second or third time of this cycle, both his hands were quite bloody, and he was too captivated to spare the girl a glance for even a moment to check that she was not stirring. At that point it probably would have been easy for another participant to sneak up on him, had there been anyone around; fortunately, there didn't seem to be.

Although it was dark, Setsuko could see small flashes of light, thoughts and images, whether they were known or unknown. As the mental overload continued, she felt something strange at the gash. It was being pressed. It didn't hurt too much, but it was too constant. Consciousness was drifting in and out, now, so she took her bottom lip under her teeth and bit.
Hard.
She could taste the crimson copper as it oozed onto her tongue. A little bit of it began to go down her chin, stopping at her neck.
Whatever it was, it kept on pressing the gash, although at a slower pace. Her eyes finally opened, then promptly shut, and the blinking vision of the sun blinded her over and over.
But then her eyes did open, and it took her a moment to remember her situation. The program, her companion...her feelings. She remained on the ground for a while, beginning to breathe harshly.
Another press to her wound, it was harder, and deeper this time.

She wanted to sit up as quickly as possible, but her light head denied her that. It was a slow way, but she eventually saw what was pressing against her. He was there, holding her ankle and foot in his lap, his hands covered in her her blood. Her left leg thrust back towards her, and she began to stand up, habit forcing her left foot on the ground.
More blood oozed out, there was searing pain, but nothing escaped her mouth. With such a weak step, her foot bent to the side and there was a deafening crack. The twist of a sprain. There was another jolt of pain.
Then, the fall. Harshly, on her knees, and then onto her stomach, her chin and teeth were slightly hit upon impact. Her arms lied uselessly on the sand, but she managed to look up at him, noting that it was getting rather difficult to breathe.
Setsuko did not want him to see that she was afraid, but she was only half competent as masking her wide eyes and her shaking fingers. Opening her mouth to speak, no words came, but her mouth outlined the pronounced words.
"Why?"

Absorbed in what he was doing, Kazuo remained oblivious to the stirrings of his companion right up until her foot jerked out of his grasp. The strange calm in his eyes was shattered to pieces as alarm poured over his face, dark eyes wide, and he scrambled backward, hastily regaining his grip on his gun and aiming it for her on instinct - though he did still refrain from firing.

His gaze continued to linger at her ankle nonetheless, and at the crack it gave upon her standing, his eyes sparked with an unnerving kind of madness just as they had on the overlook. But the electricity in them was short-lived this time.

He stared at her, partly wary and partly still startled, not unlike a panicked animal taken by surprise. He had more or less crab-crawled backward and now had only partially raised into a crouch, Uzi still trained on her. The boy offered no answer to his companion's mouthed question, but by the feral look in his eyes he may not have even understood her at all.

His face became slightly darker, then, after a moment, as he began to calm down and his conscious mind started back up. That crack her ankle had made had sounded like a bad one. If she couldn't walk, she would be more trouble than she was worth...

Cursing, she slowly got up and tried to put pressure on her foot. She winced. The pain was unimaginable. She looked at him worriedly, fearful that he was preparing to end her misery with a shot from the Uzi. But he had not aimed yet. But, how was she supposed to fix this? If she showed almost one ounce of possibly slowing down, he would kill her. Her gaze shifted uneasily, but then her spirits lifted when she saw his green bag.
He had taken a good chunk from the first aid kit. Setsuko wandered over to the tree, forcing herself to stop limping, and knelt down. She did not care if he was going to protest when she opened the bag. The zipper went down quickly, and she rummaged through the stuff, roughly placing what she needed on the ground. Cloth, the bottle of alcohol, gauze, medical tape and two rolls of bandages rested beside her. The scissors were not out of reach, either.

After her shoe was off, the cleaning began. It stung, but she took it in stride. As the gauze covered her wounds, the white instantly became red, and the medical tape had a strange tinge as it was applied. The difficult part was next. She wrapped the bandage above the wound as tightly as she could, creating a makeshift tourniquet. The wound was soon covered, and then she reached her ankle. Another tight wrapping was created, and secured the end before the stuff reached her toes.

Slowly placing her bandaged leg on the ground, she lifted herself up. Almost no pain went through her leg. Grinning, she haphazardly put her shoe on and walked around the tree perfectly. Her smile became more apparent once she broke into a small run. There was still pain, but it would be handled. Eyes burning with resolve, she looked at and gave him a small, shy smile. Her gaze eventually lowered to the medical supplies that needed to be put away, but it shifted to his arm. The bandages were getting even redder. Kneeling near the tree once more, she beckoned him to come.

He watched her carefully, his gaze unrelenting as the girl crawled to her feet. He did not miss the anxiety in her face, but his own expression did not change; he continued watching her as she eyed and then moved for his bag. The beginnings of a scowl flickered through his features, and he looked about ready to get in her way... but he seemed to figure on what she was doing, because instead he stepped aside, albeit barely and all the while keeping a close eye on her.

It was obvious the boy was struggling to keep his eyes off of her wound, as his gaze kept darting between her ankle and her hands, but he seemed intent on making sure she didn't take anything out of the bag he didn't want her to. He continued watching as she tended to herself... and for how distrustingly he stared at her, he also seemed pretty content that she was taking care of herself without his prompting and without his help.

His companion grinned with pride at having stood without any trouble, but Kazuo's face went unchanged, even when the girl walked and jogged around the tree. He did, however, slowly, reluctantly lower his submachine gun back down to his side.

At her gesturing for him to come closer, the youth tensed as if poised to race off like a skittish animal. But after a minute or two, he did cautiously approach and kneel into a crouch beside her and his bag - wounded arm facing her. His dark eyes wandered, avoiding meeting hers or even looking at her at all. Despite not being handcuffed as before, he did not look keen on removing any of his clothes to allow for easier access to the injury.

The bandages were a challenge to unwrap with just a tear on the sleeve to work with.
"You'll have to take these off..." She said, pulling at the blazer slightly.
Once he gave her a look, she sighed to herself.
"It will be quicker for the both of us. Trust me."
Two minutes passed before he slowly started to take off the obstructing clothes. His scowl deepened as his fingers unbuttoned the white shirt. However, she was happy that he was avoiding looking at her. Wide eyes were fixed upon him, and she could feel her face becoming red again. His upper body was soon bare, and she was as enthralled as ever. However, her hand wandered over to his arm to dispose of the stained bandages. The promise would have to be held.

All signs of an approaching infection were gone. The wound was clean, but the scabbing had just broken. Still, she gently glided an alcohol soaked cloth over the wound, ignoring the occasional wince and sneaking glances at his bare skin. She hoped to find something unappealing that would displease her, so that her passions for the wild teenager would be slightly doused. But nothing. In fact, the view sort of excited her. The antibacterial cream went on next, then the wrappings.
"There. Told you it would be quick."
Right after the fastening, he pulled away and slung the white shirt over his arms. She sighed, feeling empty and disappointed for whatever reason. Suddenly, a feeling of excitement replaced regret and her hand gently reached for his face.
"Wait. Sorry...there's something on your forehead." The sentence poured from her mouth in one quick breath like an awkward wreck. Another cloth had been prepared, except this one was soaked with water. Excitement doubled as her fingers brushed against his chin, then his cheek as she turned his head so that she could see him. Of course, there was nothing on his brow, but she got the excitement of touch, and another look at his face.

He glowered at his companion when she persisted about his clothes. But, after a couple of minutes of stubborn silence, a scowl sank into his features, and - after a long glance around for nearby participants - he reluctantly slid off his school jacket. Next, his hands began working their way down the buttons of his dress shirt, the blood that was still drying on his hands smudging off onto the white fabric, but he obviously didn't mind.

His skin was slightly paler beneath his shirt, his frame that of a scarecrow lined with only a modest amount of lean muscle. His torso and waist was slender verging on feminine. His stomach was perfectly flat, but lacking in any visible abdominal muscle to speak of. No expression nor any color whatsoever came into the boy's face at being halfway unclothed; Kazuo felt no embarrassment about being shirtless, even in front of a girl. His self-esteem was almost completely indifferent, and sexual notions were the furthest thing from his mind. He was vaguely aware of his companion's staring, and maybe her blushing, too, but didn't appear to care either way.

He only flinched somewhat at the alcohol reapplied to the injury. After that, nothing else seemed to perturb his pain tolerance. The second the girl affirmed that she was finished, he swiped up his shirt to pull it back on, and then his blazer before re-buttoning the now blood-stained dress shirt.

No sooner had he gotten his clothes back on than he flinched again as the girl's hand moved for his face. His brow furrowed, an expression between a scowl and a pout crossing his features. It didn't feel like anything was on his face... Whatever. He allowed his head to be turned this way and that as his companion dabbed a wet cloth for whatever was there.

After the 'cleaning' had finished, she drew her hand away quickly and folded the cloth, not wanting him to see that it went unstained. Once he looked away, she turned her back to him and started putting the supplies back in the bag. A silly, toothy grin spread over her face, the excitement of their skin touching was far from fading. Various scenarios played through her head of stealing more touches. But she would have to be careful. The excitement began to prematurely die down once she realized who was on the receiving end. A quiet, but mournful sigh escaped her lips, and the last of the euphoria faded. She would be chasing something impossible, but she had to try. She zipped the bag and stood up, stretching through her calves. Ignoring the pain in her left leg, she moved away from the tree, surveying the landscape. Nothing was new to her, she would have to point out to her companion that there were some pretty good hiding spots nearby once he was ready.

Running her hand through her uneven hair, she wondered what the other participants were like. Teenaged, obviously, but she was curious, while at the same time hoping that she would never have to meet any. She ran her fingers over her bare throat again, shivering as she closed her eyes and imagined him instead. Her lip was caught by her teeth, forgetting about the drying wound that she had formed.
To her surprise, she had not winced, but she...liked the sting. A sharp sigh was barely audible. Footsteps broke her out of her fantasizing, and once she regained full control of her mind, she noticed how quickly her heart was racing.
Opening her eyes, she looked over her shoulder.
The journey was going to have to continue, whether she liked it or not.

Once the girl was done, he wiped at the moisture left on his face with his sleeve. He next set about packing up the medical supplies his companion had taken out, barely sparing her a glance as he did so, until his bag was zipped up after one more drink of water, and he stood to sling the duffel bag over his shoulder. Without regard for his companion, he started off again at a relaxed but brisk stride, and soon enough she seemed to take notice and followed after him.

Kazuo continued following in the woods alongside the road through the remainder of G7 and into G6. Into G5, however, the trees grew sparser, which made his pace slow and his steps more cautious. The road here diverged into two other paths, one headed west and the other south. It was a safe bet the southern road led to the clinic. But movement a little distance away on the eastern road made him pause, freezing like a dog that had spotted something.

A small girl with black-haired bangs was peering out from the trees nervously down either side of the road - and just as Kazuo had sighted her, it did not take her long to notice him.

With zero hesitation in leaving his companion in the dust, he took off into a sprint through the trees, swiftly crossing the road onto his target's side and rocketing westward. His quarry turned to race off instantly as well. Though she was not as fast as him, she seemed to have distance on her side. For now. Kazuo was not especially fast; his long legs and lengthy stride were the main source of his speed, but he did have cardiac health to his advantage, which went hand-in-hand with endurance. He could sprint at top speed for only a short distance... but run at an average pace for much, much longer.

At his initial burst of speed, the youth had gained enough distance on the girl to keep her in sight, but had to slow somewhat from a sprint into a run before he had reached her. He knew better than to push his luck and wear himself out - too much sprinting and he would be too tired to keep going at all. But just running was a fairly comfortable pace for him, and even with the girl literally running for her life, he was able to keep up easily. When he had closed some of the distance between them he began firing at every clear opportunity, but the girl was not stupid. She never stayed in any open space for long, darting between trees in a slight zigzag as she ran. Kazuo was careful to conserve his ammunition only for when he had a clear shot... But between his poor aim and the distance that remained between him and his target, it did not appear he had hit her at all yet.

The trees grew steadily more dense as the chase progressed and diverged off from the road back into the woods, until eventually Kazuo did lose sight of the girl. He had to stop and listen for her, holding his heavy breath for a moment, hand flexing on his Uzi. There was the crack of sticks and a rustle of dead leaves, but already the sounds were quickly gaining distance. Kazuo released the panting he had been withholding. His arms fell lax at his sides, and his head tilted back exasperatedly as he began slowly trudging in a circle while he caught his breath. He wouldn't have minded another break... But he wasn't sure his companion had kept up, and he knew he had to clear out of the vicinity anyways after his gunfire.

After a couple of minutes, he strayed from the circle he had been pacing in to stride back in the direction he had come from, dark eyes sweeping lazily for his companion. Bitter disappointment hovered on his face through his weariness, his expression not unlike that of a child who had not gotten his way.

They walked along the woods, and Setsuko found herself walking abreast with him for the majority of the time, rather than behind him. However, she fell behind him again after deciding that it was more prudent.
"There are some good hiding spots over there." Pointing at a mess of brush as they passed.
Her companion stopped to look, for five seconds, but then he continued at his brisk pace. Her lip twitched: was her usefulness beginning to wear off? From then on, all was quiet. As she hung her head down, her mind quickly burst with ideas to keep herself alive. Every idea was shot down as it began to sprout.
"What do I do?" She whispered to herself. "Come on...think, think."

After a long time of debating, she finally looked up to see that he had stopped at a split in the path. The one headed South was the one that her grandmother took when she worked at the clinic. The other trail was one less traveled, but she remembered it well. And if she was right, there would be good shelter deep into the forest to the East. Her expression lightened.
"Hey-"
But he had stiffened as if he had seen something, and bolted off. After a bolt of panic that ignited her veins, she frowned and ran after him.
"Hey!" She yelled after him.
He sprinted into the Eastern forest, and she tried to follow as closely as she could. As the path disappeared into the dense forest, she lost him, and whoever he had been chasing. Multiple shots from the Uzi rang throughout the trees. There was another jolt of panic, so she threw herself behind a large tree and rested her back against the trunk. More shots from the Uzi periodically sounded, and after painstakingly long moments, all was silent. Did he get his target? ...Was he alright?
At the thought of him being hurt, she suddenly stood up and drew the bloodied shears from the blue ribbon. Her lips parted slightly at the thought that, if needed, she would fight. Not totally for protection, but to also avenge her nameless companion, if he had fallen. Mouth now pursed, she emerged from the tree and started to sneak around the trees, her eyes shifting to all directions. Her feet moved slowly, but silently. Carefully. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the scissors, mentally preparing herself for anything. Her arm was poised over her head, ready to stab whomever was out there.

The sunlight against the trees cast eerie shadows on the forest floor, the images playing with her mind. There was a crack from a twig, and she bit her lip again to prevent herself from screaming. There was a rustling in the rough wild, and she heard the sound getting closer.
"Stay back!" She got up, twisting around, the scissors pointed maniacally in her hand.
More rustling and more twigs snapped.
"Get the Hell away from me!"
Panting reached her ears, and she wheeled around to meet her opponent, but she stopped herself in mid stab. It was him, and a wave of relief washed over her. However, her angry expression did not change.
"Why did you leave me there?" She asked, throwing the scissors into one of the trees, the end bouncing off and landing on the ground. "Do you have any idea how *worried* I was about you?!"
Her fist hit the nearest tree. It hurt, but she did not punch it hard enough to break her skin. Her eyes glowered at him as she lowered her hand to massage it a little. Her companion was very tired, breathing as if he had just ran a marathon and had refrained from breathing heavily for a bit. A few moments passed by, and she eventually went to retrieve her shears, looking around to see how far they were into the forest. Luckily, the place looked a bit familiar. The shelter should be nearby, if they wandered far enough and she spotted the beginning of the path that was obscured by an awkward placement of a few trees, rest would be within their reach.
"Listen. Before you ran off, I was about to tell you a classmate's house is nearby. Obviously, it's empty, and we're both tired. Let's go there."

Kazuo didn't find his companion until she began shouting at him, at which point he followed the sound with no effort toward stealth. He approached hastily; yelling was stupid. He had to shut her up. By the time she appeared from the foliage, though, they nearly ran into each other - or more specifically, his chest nearly ran into her scissors.

Only slightly alarmed, his gaze followed the shears when they were thrown, though his attention quickly shifted back to the girl, who was leering at him and rambling on in frustration at being left behind. His face was indifferent to her anger, both a weary and sour look permeating his features. He watched the girl throw her fist into a tree, and then glanced her up and down almost indignantly at her outburst.

It didn't make any fucking sense for her to be worried about him. They had spent only a few hours together. He wanted to kill her every moment he was not occupied killing somebody else, and he made that fact very clear.

A dark look came into his face again, and he shoved her abruptly even after she had retrieved the scissors. He did not hold back, palms slamming against her shoulders hard enough to push her seriously off balance. His breath, which he had just about caught since his running, deepened suddenly. He pulled his glare from her then, turning away somewhat, and his hand flexed on his Uzi again hungrily. It took real concentration not to shove her again - or punch her, or strangle her, or shoot her, for that matter.

He was able to calm a bit by the time she spoke up again, and, glancing at her fleetingly, he grabbed for his map to check where he was - G4 - for a moment before showing the map to her with a silent question in his unrelentingly intense gaze. He wanted to know how far this house she spoke of was. If it was too far or not on the way to the clinic, he would rather just keep on for the clinic.

The shove didn't hurt so much, and she was glad that she had landed on her right leg instead of her left. That certainly would have complicated things.

Why did he shove her? He was certainly impulsive, but he had experienced her short fuse before, and had never reacted so violently after that.
...Was it because she had said that she was worried? That she showed an ounce that she cared about him?
A cold feeling washed over her.
She looked up at him, before returning her gaze to the ground. Her emotions dulled, but then experienced more pain. Looking up at him again, she sighed and wished that she had never been attracted to him in the first place.
More curses came under her breath as she remembered that her feelings weren't going to be quelled easily. Another string was murmured that this pain turned into another desire to keep trying.
Her gaze went down, hoping that he would not see the agony shining in her eyes.
There was another moment of silence, and then she heard him reach into his bag to pull something out. After she dulled her face, her head shot up. He indicated to her on the map.

Pursing her lips, she got up and slowly approached him. She looked at the G4 square and pointed to the peak of the curve in the river.
"It's-" She paused, thinking that his raised hand was going to lead to another shove. He only ran his hand through his hair, so she continued, albeit reluctantly. "It's well hidden. Anyone trying to find it on the map will never find it."
The blank look on his face told her that he needed more convincing.
"They should have food. Not the bread in that pack, but rice, and perhaps some broth. Beds, too. We don't have to stay for the rest of the day. Just a couple of hours. Please..." Her eyes pleaded with him.

His eyes followed where she pointed to on the map. His hand lifted from his Uzi, fingers sliding into his mess of hair, tousling it absently, and he noticed her slight flinch, but paid it no mind. He took the map back to study it more carefully for himself for a couple of minutes.

He really wanted to keep moving and get to the clinic. He really wanted to find another participant. He really wanted to kill someone. But Kazuo knew he was tired... He glanced briefly at his companion when she further tried to encourage him about the idea. Food was not priority. Kazuo's appetite fluctuated quite erratically, but whenever he was both hungry and bothered to eat, he never ate very much anyways. The bread he was supplied with would do him just fine through the Program. A bed wasn't especially priority either; Kazuo slept lightly enough he could sleep anywhere, even sitting up as he had exercised after the noon report.

However, he glanced at his companion again. He did not spare a look for her pleading gaze though, instead eyeing her ankle, his expression falling strangely blank. She had been keeping up fine but for his racing off... but he knew too much walking would wear on her ankle. If he pushed her, her progress would be slower later on, or her injury could give out at a bad time. Even if he didn't really need a break... he reluctantly acknowledged she probably did.

The beginnings of a scowl ghosting through his features, Kazuo gave a brisk nod to signal her to lead the way.

"Thank you." She breathed.
Surprised that he had given her the okay to lead, she started to walk through the foliage, looking out for the slight beginnings of a path cut short by a few trees. As her back bent down into a perfect curve to observe the forest floor, she noted that her tourniquet needed to be tightened, and that some hot water for both injuries would be needed.

Nearly a half hour of searching had passed, and then her eyes found the small centimeters of a dirt path that faded into a dense forest. She gently slipped in between the trees, and pressed on after she made sure that her companion was right behind her. As they followed the path, the distant sound of a small waterfall became louder. She smiled to herself as she led on, even though she would not have a chance to swim.

Soon, the path ended, and the two were now seeing a shack. The endings of a sheer drop were a few feet behind it, and a small, thin waterfall cascaded into the river as it went through the stream. A wooden rack of hanging fish was right next to the river, but the fish were long dead. Besides, she did not have time to de-scale and gut a fish...
Before rushing towards the house, she crouched down and slunk over to the house, putting her ear to the outer wall. The wood was thin enough to detect any disturbances or even the smallest shuffle. The house was currently silent. She looked over at him.
"It seems safe..." The whisper was quiet and delicate.
She stood up again and slid the door open. It was indeed empty, there was no way anyone could hide in this place. It was pretty sparse, and there were no areas blocked off by furniture. All closets and cupboards were left slightly ajar No one was in the house. As she scanned the rooms, she noticed various pictures on the wall. All were labeled group shots of her classmates over the years, the rest were family portraits. She trudged inside and looked around. Hunger was settling in her stomach, and that would have to be taken care of, first.

Kazuo trailed after his companion with a look of disinterest, though his dark eyes continuously swept around for signs of movement, and his hand stuck to his Uzi as if it was part of his arm.

To his utter disappointment, he did not come across any other participants along the way. Upon reaching the very small home, Kazuo ducked into a crouch, and slunk between cover in the yard to approach cautiously, gun in hand. He followed the girl up to the shack, eyeing the door and windows while she pressed against the wall to listen. He hesitated in following when his companion moved for the door, instead staying put to watch her open the door and step inside. If the place was occupied, the girl would be the canary in the coal mine.

But there was no shouting, screaming, gunfire, or any other sound to indicate a hostile presence. If someone else was inside they were too frightened to move. After a minute, Kazuo crept after the girl to follow inside the shack, where his gaze ate up its interior warily. After entering he strode briskly from room to room to check every corner of the home for an occupant... but came up empty, unfortunately. How boring.

His gaze flickered across the windows as he moved to take a seat in a wooden chair, sprawling back in it like he owned the place - which he might as well have. His eyes continued to wander, taking in the home, while he sat; his gun still did not leave his hand just yet, and his knee began to bounce restlessly.

The stove already had some wood within the furnace, and a matchbox was on the counter. After the fire was lit, she set out to find a pot and actual food. It took a while, but she eventually found everything she needed. The rice sack had been left open, so the stuff was pretty stale, and she was not sure what kind of broth was in the jar. Sniff test told her that it was beef. Soon, the stuff was simmering away. There was definitely enough for the both of them, if needed. Getting bored of watching the stuff cook, she wandered over to the framed class pictures.

Why did her classmate keep all of these? A few were in primary school, when Setsuko wore her hair long. Then the next picture was years later, when she had turned thirteen and had discovered the stress-alleviating activity of cutting her hair. The last picture was from last year, when her hair had finally gotten long again, but that was ruined today. She smiled to herself. Despite the teasing and the pebbles, she got along just fine with her classmates. After reading over the names on the bottom of the photographs, her smile faded, and then she headed towards the washroom. Her face scrunched once she noticed that the door was stuck, she couldn't close it. At least her companion wasn't the peeking type, that, and the tub was hidden in a small alcove.

The wooden spoon dropped from her hand and she stopped in her tracks. Right as she walked through the arch, she saw herself looking back from across the washroom. As her eyes got wider, her breathing became more audible. Sprinting away from the door, she rushed into the nearby bedrooms, only to whimper in fright of her reflection. Her back turned, she opened the nearby closet and sighed shakily. The whole space was composed of shelves of linens, but that did not calm her down. She grabbed whatever was closest to her, not caring that she had thrown some more of the sheets on the wooden floor. The first sheet was flung over the mirror next to the bed. Hastily grabbing a second one, she sprinted out as quickly as she came and ran into the washroom. After that glass was covered, she leaned against the tiled wall.

Setsuko regained her wits soon enough, and slowly wobbled over to the tub. She did not feel indecent. It was not at that point, yet. Water made everything better.

He eyed the girl from time to time as she set about preparing some food. But mostly, his gaze wandered, drifting over the room and staring out each window periodically. His knee continued to bounce. It was obvious the boy was bored and not in the mood to sit around. Besides his knee bouncing, his free hand fidgeted with itself, and his dark eyes flickered about restlessly.

He glanced at his companion again when she wandered away from whatever she had on the stove, but only briefly, as her activity quickly disinterested him.

After a minute, he heard a short clatter as of something being dropped, and then short, hard footsteps racing through the home. Kazuo swiftly stood, Uzi in hand, and strode briskly for where he had heard his companion running. There was a rustling sound as he approached - but just as he was about to turn to peer into a room, the girl came bursting out of it, trailing sheets in her wake, sprinting across the hall just in front of him to dart into the bathroom. He jumped somewhat and stepped back, submachine gun braced in his hand, though he refrained from firing.

Visibly relaxing, the youth stepped over to the bathroom, glancing inside with a look of growing impatience. His gaze flitted to the mirror that had been covered. His brow arched just slightly, but - after a glance at his quivering companion - he gave a slight roll of his eyes and turned to drift back into the living room, uncertain as to what the fuss was about but not much caring, either.

The waters were cold, disturbed only as she brought her knees to her chin. She had been sitting there for a few minutes, but it felt much longer. Contemplating everything about her current situation seemed to create her own little patch of time, totally distant from the world, away from everyone.
Well, almost everyone.
She hated how her companion wandered into her mind. He had kept her alive, yes, but he seemed to have trouble resisting the temptation to assault her with bullets.
This boy...he was cruel. Ruthless. To him, everyone was a target.
There was a small drop of salt water that mixed with the fresh. Throat clenching, she sighed and pooled some water into her hands. He couldn't see her cry. He mustn't.

After dressing her wound and her frame, she shuffled back into the kitchen, her mind brightening slightly at the thought of food. She removed the lid from the pot, steam billowing out. She frowned once she realized that almost all of the broth was gone, and that most of the rice was burned onto the bottom.
"Shit..."
The fire was soon put out and the food put into bowls. She set one in front of him and lowered herself into the chair in front of him.

Her face scrunched into a scowl as she tasted a chunk of burned grain. Nonetheless, it was food. As she swallowed, it felt like the bit strangled her. The bits that weren't burned were alright, but they could have been better.
"You really should eat..." She eyed the full bowl nearby.
As usual, he was silent.

Setsuko wanted to stay longer, but her companion was growing impatient. She really wanted to sleep, but she would rather run on limited energy rather than waking up to find him gone. Her ankle was feeling better, as well. Nothing to worry about giving out, now.
"Fine...we can go." She eyed him coolly. "If you're just going to pine like a child."