A/N: If you're here for just the Kamukura smut, you can skip to the second chapter
Warning for a lot of gore/death in the first chapter
This more follows DR0's version of the killing game, with events/killings altered from DR3, however this fic features the follow student council members shown in DR3.

Umesawa - Pikachu hoodie
Goryoku - bara
Someya - the boy with stuffed animals in his pockets

Reader is a DFAB SHSL Witch, basically Kageko, but you can self insert away! That's the fun of a reader fic! (also very little of her backstory is even published for anyone who cares to keep up with my OC, haha, oops)

Umesawa turned a corner in the dimly lit hallway, lugging an axe almost as big as herself behind her with her right arm, the left broken and dangling behind her.

She was panting, tears running down her face, but compared to the start of the game she'd learned to ignore her own crying and press forward.

It was a major strength, and one that gave her better odds despite her size and a broken limb.

The ability to throw away your feelings, both physical and emotional, in the present in order to have a future was something the others lacked.

She was one of five survivors left, and you were rooting for her, even if she found your advice from earlier creepy and unwelcome (suggesting that she use cupboards to hide herself was a no brainer).

Well, that was to be expected, since you were a spectator and technically a collaborator in this entire operation.

You currently sat in a classroom separated from the rest of the playing ground, a headquarters of sorts with half a dozen monitors that displayed a live feed of most of the game.

If you were going to be stranded here until it was over, you'd demanded that Enoshima at least provide you with snacks and a comfortable viewing chamber.

Whatever she needed you for, it must have been important to whatever she was planning, because she'd actually complied (but still, she hadn't bought your loyalty just yet).

Reclined back in your seat, a cushy swirling recliner from the teachers' lounge, you absentmindedly munched on a box of strawberry panda shaped cookies and watched as Umesawa pressed her back to a giant pillar at the end of the hallway and hid.

Had she heard someone coming?

By the looks of the third monitor, Goryoku was heading her way from the east wing.

He was equipped with a baseball bat, which naturally would lose to a giant axe, but he was at an advantage with his height and strength. Not to mention that both of his arms were still fully usable.

But Umesawa had the element of surprise on her side.

All of these factors made the outcome unpredictable right now, and you were excited to see Umesawa turn the odds in her favor.

Although you'd chosen to place your bets on her, she was still a dark horse at this point despite having made it into the top five.

Enoshima had placed her bets on Hino, the guy with the glasses who had been one of the first to strike out, and said he looked like a berserker type. She'd been right about the second part, but he went a little too berserk…

Kamukura and Ikusaba had refused to place bets.

It wasn't like you got anything for winning, but it'd be nice.

So you sat back and waited.

In ancient times, this sort of brutality wasn't so unusual, and back then the entire village would flock to the town square to watch an execution.

More often than not, they'd bring their kids, too, because death was a part of life and not a dirty secret to be shielded from.

Heh...people are so weak these days, you thought to yourself, nearly pushing your recliner too far back with your feet on the table. I miss being a god...

It made a mind stronger to watch a little gore.

Witches burning, murderers being stoned to death, thieves being hung at the gallows…and of course, who could forget the great gladiator games?

Not that you'd gotten to see any part of Rome up close, considering that Bastet was confined to Egypt to watch over her—your—patrons.

But you'd witnessed some interesting executions back then, nevertheless. At least, you thought so, otherwise watching Hope's Peak finest murder each other would feel more distasteful.

Some part of you, deep down, had witnessed far worse, even if you didn't remember it.

Well…I guess it's a little different than back then.

You tilted the box into your mouth to scavenge the crumbs, disappointed in yourself for eating them all before the fight, since this was the last of the strawberry flavor...

There was also the fact that none of the students here were criminals or prisoners of war, but that was irrelevant to someone like you.

What mattered was sitting on the edge of your seat, biting your lip, watching as Goryoku turned the corner.

Umesawa hunkered down as he did, waited for only a second, then lunged at him, swinging the axe with every ounce of strength in her little body.

Goryoku swung the bat at her, narrowly missed, and lost his grip on it the moment the blade made contact with his abdomen. Had she hit him a little farther to the left, she would have no doubt cut into his colon.

Having lost his weapon, Goryoku grabbed Umesawa by the neck just as she'd turned her body flee.

She hadn't been fast enough.

She started to lift her good arm to swing her axe again, but he promptly snatched it from her and slung it down rather than use it on her, preferring to use his bare strength.

Because he was such a big person, the impact hadn't been enough to kill him, but instead a huge flap of skin-a thin, yellow spongy layer of fat lined between his outer flesh and chunks of bright red flesh and some of his bleeding intestines-was dangling from his body, still painfully connected.

A strike like that would have killed someone Umesawa's size.

Goryoku continued to squeeze her neck, his other hand trying to press the dangling meat to his body, and slammed her into the wall just behind them.

Umesawa punched his hand, her legs helplessly kicking in the air all the while her broken arm dangled.

Biting your lip, tears brimming your eyes, you watched in horror as she was pummelled into the wall hard enough to crack it, and after two more blows to the back of her head, she stopped moving.

Goryoku slung her onto the ground, streaks of blood smearing the floor as her body bounced like a stone skipping across the water.

She was no doubt dead, and your heart...hurt.

You'd been rooting for her, really thought she could make it, and had gotten too emotionally invested.

It occurred to you that this wasn't like cheering on a character on a TV show.

Enoshima had been beyond wrong; this wasn't fun at all now.

When she'd pitched the idea of Despair to you, she'd made an argument that compared it to the masochistic thrill of letting a cat get too rough with your arm, but this wasn't nearly the same thing…

There wasn't any fun in watching someone you'd cared about, even if you'd just met them, getting slaughtered.

All the same, you realized that it would have made Umesawa's hypothetical victory all the more gratifying.

The risk/reward ration might not be worth it, though…

Well, what's done is done.

You could only continue to watch, maybe pick out a new favorite to root for...who else was left again?

As Goryoku doubled over, finally taking in the extremities of his injuries, another challenger emerged from the hallway-Someya, who was armed with a pistol and already aiming.

Despite being covered in blood, he was perhaps the most physically intact player, as none of the blood was actually his save for a dried patch around his nose that he'd acquired at the start of the game.

Playing possum was probably the best idea idea for someone his size, even better than hiding in cupboards.

But with all that blood, the only remaining plushie in his pockets, the green dinosaur in the front, was probably ruined...bleach would just discolor the entire thing.

Goryoku was cornered, and could only sidestep away from the barrel of the gun as Someya stepped closer to him.

And then he opened fire-once, twice-and chucked the gun at him, hitting him square in the forehead.

When Goryoku instinctively reached up to his face, Someya took the opportunity to charge at him and skid under his legs, reminiscent of a soccer player skidding into a goal, and simultaneously jabbed his hand into the gaping wound in his side.

He'd wrapped his fist around his intestines, and dragged the entrails out, yanking them underneath him and forcing him down flat on his face.

Someya let go of them as he hurried back to his feet, scurried to collect his gun, grab the axe Umesawa had dropped, and dashed out of the room just as quickly as he'd entered, confident that his opponent wouldn't last much longer.

Of course, he wouldn't, and it had to be adrenaline alone that propelled him to rise up to all fours and then push himself back to his feet.

Hands shaking, he reached down and pulled his insides back up, carrying them with him as he pressed his weight against the wall and started limping; it almost didn't look real, more like a life sized doll with a busted seam and dyed red stuffing that had been too tightly packed.

Blood was dripping out of him in clots, leaving a trail of puddles as he took his leave to lay down and die somewhere-probably one of the dozen or so closets that would at least allow him some privacy.
He'd fought, won most of the time, and then lost, and although you couldn't help being bitter towards him for taking out Umesawa, you didn't start scanning the monitors to see where he'd go.

And that was it for this little battle in the tournament to survive.

You sad back, let out a shaky breath, eyes wandering back to Umesawa's corpse.

Considering that she'd been your combatant of choice, it was only polite to go close her eyes, maybe chant a spell to give her some guidance into the afterlife…

And then you caught a set of red eyes peering out from the darkness of behind the second pillar in the corner.

Kamukura had been watching this entire scene and you'd failed to notice him!

He's like a cryptid! I didn't notice him at all...

...Oh, yeah, I was wanting to talk to him!

Enoshima couldn't be trusted to listen in on what you'd wanted to ask him, and she'd figured out too much about you for comfort already.

You'd had no doubt about it from the the moment you'd laid eyes on him, having felt the overwhelming energy that surrounded him.

And learning who he was only solidified it.

Like yourself, Kamukura Izuru was a reincarnated god.