Okay so to anyone who is still actually hoping for updates - I owe you a sincere apology as I've been MIA for an entire year and a half. Oops. Life got in the way and other fandoms ended up taking priority but I have every intention of finishing this thing, even if it takes me forever. Prince of Tennis will always be my favourite fandom, and I still have 60-something tennis boys to kill of so I can't just walk away from this! I've literally had this partially written, sitting on my desktop since July of 2012 and. I finally sat my ass down yesterday and started working on it to get it to completion. And I guess better news is I have bits and pieces of a couple more chapters written out so I am HOPING to have chapter 13 up by the end of the week! I hope this chapter makes up for the ungodly wait time, and as always I am always open to tips on how to make this fic better!
Nitobe Inakichi was one half of Yamabuki's lesser known doubles pair, the other half being Kita Ichiuma. The two were mostly unknown outside Yamabuki, but within their clubroom were two of the possibly loudest students their school possessed. Given this, it was odd that they sat in complete silence, content to sit and think about the situation at hand. The pair was currently seated together in a tree behind the apartments, weapons in hand and backpacks hung off the branch above the one they sat on.
Legs dangling off the branch, they were high enough that they were still concealed in the leaves. The sun was halfway down by the time the two had met up and made it into the tree, and the light was just below their eye level, shining through leaves and branches.
Looking down at the pistol in his hands - a glock - and then over at the Walther PPK in his doubles partner's hand, Kita felt absolutely nauseated. The game being as horrible as it could be in the first place, the fact that one person, only one, was going to be left was horrifying. How was anyone supposed to carry on after this? Congrats, your friends are all dead, enjoy your life. He was fairly certain death was the easiest way out of this, that the people that died playing were the true winners. He would rather die than enjoy "victory" over all his teammates and friends. Looking over at the third year, Kita broke the silence.
"Ne, Nitobe." A slight hum was given in reply, and Kita continued.
"I was thinking. Maybe this isn't worth it. Hiding. Hoping we'll make it. They said they'd kill us if nothing happened anyway, right? So people are going to die even if we just sit here all day."
The brunette looked over, still silent but trying to process the exact point his doubles partner was trying to make. Did he want to try and take others out before they got to them?
"I don't think there's a point. This whole thing, it's got to be a joke. I mean, I know it's not a joke, people are dead. But at the end? Who wants to live knowing all their teammates, their friends. All those people died so that one person could make it to the end?"
Nitobe blinked, the words coming from Kita's mouth starting to make sense to him, what Kita was actually saying finally becoming clearer. Looking down to the pistol in his hands, and back over to his doubles partner, Nitobe understood the point his friend was trying to make without being able to actually come out and say it. He had to admit, Kita had a point. Nitobe couldn't think of a single scenario in which, if he was the winner, he would be able to lead a regular life again. Highschool seemed like a distant dream at this point, a dream he knew was entirely unattainable no matter the outcome of this whole game.
"...so, that's your idea then," Nitobe said, a small glance at each pistol before looking back up at Kita.
He didn't want to confirm it, didn't want to say it out loud, because if he did it would feel too real. Looking down once more, maybe for the last time, Kita eyed the pistol in his hands before slowly raising it and aiming to his left. Nitobe had already raised his own pistol, holding it out to his right. Eyes closed, deep sighs from both and a simultaneous count to three, and it was done. Two shots rang out, though most would have recognized it as one. As life left both the Yamabuki regulars, their arms gave out and let go of the branch they'd been sitting on. Both backpacks still hanging in the tree, the bodies of the two regulars dropped to the ground below with enough force that even had the bullet failed to do it's job, neither one would have had much time to think it over anyway.
x-x-x-x-x
Eiji had thought that maybe he'd wait outside for Oishi. Even if this was a game of survival, they were still the Golden Pair. Oishi wouldn't kill him, not even if Eiji stood in front of him and asked him to.
Eiji had left the building and quickly gone around the side of the building to look out for Oishi. He knew it was risky to stay so close, but he figured that being one of the earlier ones out meant most people had scattered farther away from the school. Kirihara had come out shortly after him, looking absolutely terrified. Eiji was sure he didn't look much better, because he certainly didn't feel it. The next two that had left were the Kisarazu twins. Eiji had been surprised when the first had left automatically, but when Ryou came out a minute after and hadn't bothered to look for his brother, Eiji assumed they'd already talked about it in some telepathic twin thing he was sure they had.
One of Yamabuki's players had gone out after, he wasn't sure who, but then came another one he recognized. Jumping back quickly to avoid being seen immediately, Eiji held his breath. Higa's captain had come out, weapon already in hand. Apparently Kite hadn't wasted any time in getting prepared and held the machete as if he were ready to strike at any moment. Poking head head back around the corner, Eiji could see the other player heading off to the left towards the apartments. Breathing a sigh of relief, he grabbed one strap of his backpack and headed towards the back of the school, carefully checking around him as he went.
When he reached the back, he came to a small equipment shed. It looked like it hadn't been used in years, and that was probably the case. The door was slightly ajar and a rusty padlock hung from the latch. He was half tempted to open it and go in, but it was so close to the starting point and he was too far down the list to be completely sure it was empty. Knowing he had to think quickly, he decided against going in and instead went around to the back of the school. He saw the forest to his left, but decided against that also since forests gave too many places to hide and walking in unarmed would be a sure death sentence. Not wanting to just stand outside and contemplate his options for half an hour, Eiji took the only other immediate option and went back into the school through one of the many broken windows.
x-x-x-x-x
Kurobane Harukaze had been entirely sure that this whole thing was an elaborate joke. 100% sure. So when the first shot rang out and Uchimura had dropped to the ground, he was shocked to say the least.
After gathering the backpack and having the collar strapped to him, Bane had walked out of the school without looking back. Mind focused on getting as far away from the building as possible, he'd started walking before really surveying his surroundings. Somehow in the hour that had passed, Bane had managed to make his way down to the very bottom of the allowed zone. He guessed maybe it was just his natural instincts that he'd ended up headed towards the beach. Many late nights spent with his teammates at the beach by Rokkaku had left him feeling comfortable with the breeze hitting his face and sand sneaking its way into his shoes.
He'd made his way onto the beach from a small slope near the left of the map. He'd walked down it to find himself on mostly rocks and pebbles, and headed towards the other end of the map entirely before finding himself somwhere in E7, finding the somewhat familiar landscape comforting when everything else had been going to shit around him. He looked out across the water, and even though the sky was fairly clear and the weather decent, there was absolutely nothing he could see in the distance. The beach was fairly open, and at any point Bane was sure someone could come up behind him or he could walk into someone and it would all be over for him, but surviving this whole thing was the last thing he really wanted to do anyway. Instead of worrying about finding somewhere to hide, or figuring out what his weapon happened to be, Bane instead chose to lean back against the rocks and try and enjoy his last moments as best he could.
x-x-x-x-x
Shiraishi was of the belief that everything happened for a reason, and the way Shitenhouji's tennis team had come together further cemented these beliefs. The situation he was currently in, however, took those beliefs and twisted them until they were unrecognizable.
When he's left the school he'd headed around back. Most people, he assumed, would have taken off without looking back, so stopping for the minute he'd had to think about his plan of action, the back seemed like the best idea. He'd ended up somewhere in the right of A3, eyeing the forest to his left and farther off to his right, the apartments. He couldn't go much farther the way he was heading or he'd end up out of bounds, and turning around had left him facing far too much open space for his liking, with some trees farther off and likely many more people around.
Quickly making up his mind, Shiraishi headed right towards the apartments. Walking quickly, he couldn't see anyone around, although he was sure he wasn't the only one in the area. Shiraishi had been close to the end of the list and had watched most of the other regulars leave. The departures were timed exactly, and it had given Shiraishi enough time to evaluate how long he'd have once he left before someone else was going to come out.
Getting closer to the building, he still couldn't see anyone around, but being so far down the list and the apartments being one of the main marks on the map, he was sure others had to be in and around the building. Instead of going in through the front, Shiraishi veered slightly to the left and went around the back of the building. Broken bottles, old milk crates and pieces of wood littered the ground. It looked like a dumping ground, at one point maybe it had been for garbage pickup, but those services had stopped years ago. The back door was old, rusted and had no handle, but Shiraishi dug through his backpack and produced a butter knife - his weapon, he assumed - and used it to pry the door open enough to grab it. It creaked and groaned like it hadn't been used in years, and Shiraishi was thankful nobody was in direct earshot of the awful noise or he was sure he'd have been dead by now.
Letting the door close behind him, Shiraishi found himself in a narrow hallway. There was a door leading to a staircase to his right and a number of doors on each wall down the hallway, as well as one directly down the hallway, he assumed leading to some part of the apartment's lobby. Ignoring the staircase, Shiraishi instead went to the first door on the left and tried the door. Locked. He was sure, somewhere along the line he'd picked up a tip on opening locks with butter knives - he thought it was probably either Koharu or Yuuji that had told him - but he wasn't in any state of mind to remember how exactly it was done, and he didn't want to stand there fiddling with a lock while he could be hiding. Trying the next couple of doors on that side, Shiraishi found them both locked as well. The first door he tried on the right side was also locked, but the one he tried after was unlocked and so Shiraishi carefully entered the room, leaving the door open to let as much light as he could in to get an idea of his surroundings.
There was an office desk with an old computer, picture frames littered the edge of the desk along with a vase holding flowers that had long ago wilted and died. Children's finger paintings were hung on the walls above a small couch and side table. Thankfully people were not currently a part of the room's decor. Taking one last good look at the layout of the room, Shiraishi closed the door behind him and did his best to navigate the room in the dark. Managing to knock only one picture off the desk, he settled into the cliche "hide under the desk" position and set the backpack down between his legs. He imagined he was in for a long wait, and while normally he hated waiting on anything, Shiraishi was more than content to sit under the desk for the next five days if it meant getting out of this alive.
x-x-x-x-x
After running into Chitose, Zaizen had gone back into the apartment building. While his senpai had never really been one to worry about things, Zaizen was still completely bewildered as to how he could care less even in a situation like this. Was he worried about dying at all? Zaizen had been the very last one out, which had made him extremely uncomfortable about leaving the building, if the game hadn't already accomplished that in the first place. Closing the door quietly behind him, Zaizen let out a small sigh and looked to his right.
At the top of the stairs there was a small utility closet. Zaizen had opened it to find mostly old brooms, mops and half-empty bottles of cleaning supplies hanging in a lopsided rack on the wall. Pulling out his phone, knowing hoping for any service was entirely useless, Zaizen held it up to the handle on the inside of the door.
Perfect.
He slid the backpack off his shoulder, and paused for a second to listen and make sure nobody was coming. Hearing nothing, he grabbed the Beretta from his bag and entered the closet. Closing the door behind him, Zaizen pulled out his phone again and turned the lock until it clicked into place. Leaning against the back wall of the closet, Zaizen slid down the into a sitting position. The closet was cramped with not much room to move, but Zaizen sincerely hoped moving was the last thing he needed to do. Hands in his lap, holding the gun, all he could do was sit and hope nothing disturbed his silence.
~62 remain~