Chapter Text
Clammy hands crept up Echizen’s shirt. The anaesthetic was not as effective on Kintarou, who had searched comfort by hugging the uniform of his neighbour. The snoring shapes of Echizen’s teammates that surrounded him, were all slumped over in crooked positions, alike to the way puppets hung when stuffed in an undersized play car. Far from a coward, his curious nature was unsure of what the coaches were doing with the strange masks that engulfed their entire head. They reminded him of the pesky buggers that once haunted the courts mid-summer, before he, albeit accidentally, gassed most of them. Those bloodsucking flies were now talking amongst themselves and for the first time in a while he felt no incentive to speak out. Hushed robotic voices erupted, like they did from the evil emperor that appeared on the tv each Sunday afternoon, albeit the threat hadn’t settled in yet.
They made him feel uneasy.
When one of them stood up - the fat one that coached the tanned guys from the southern islands - Kintarou took a quick peek. The long, pointy stick was swaying from his hips as he walked down the rows, grunting now and then. The muffled steps, the hazy smoke and the weight of his friend made Kintarou anxious – who wouldn’t – and he muttered out a dazed question: “What’s happening?” No answer. Kintarou croaked again: “Coach-man?” In the front he made out some shuffling, but he couldn’t make out the shapes.
The shallow breaths of the bus made for a great contrast to the powerful palpitations in his heart. Saotome walked towards Kintarou. He clutched his stick, and if Kintarou wasn’t terribly confused, he would’ve lost it to the feral power of the boy who was desperately trying to unlock the seat belt, and upon realizing it was most certainly stuck, ripping the belt itself. It was fastened at the start of the trip on Osamu’s insistence, but it only took two direct hits to his cortex before he settled down. After the first one, he slumped over; the second one sealed the deal. This damn brat was always creating trouble, Saotome thought, remembering how he had to wrestle the bike from his arms, which he wasn’t allowed to take on the camp. He was relieved that he didn’t need to patrol the more troublesome teams, preferring the easily knocked out Seigaku and Shitenhouji on the second level of the double decker, which swayed with the raging storm outside, making him unsteadily swagger forth. After he made sure that every boy was unconscious and asleep – A quick tap of the stick against their shin worked – he signalled his colleagues and plopped his majestic bodice back in the cramped seats. The bus took a detour; instead of taking the exit at a mountain, it changed course towards the sea.
The arrival was fast-paced; as soon as the bus halted, in the middle of the night, military stepped forward to assess the situation. The camp at which they had arrived was far from the training camp that the coaches had promised, but none of them were conscious enough to establish that statement. There were no courts, no vending machines, no dormitories and frankly nothing that promoted healthy teenage tennis. The beach was flooded with news reporters struggling to get a shot at the mob of men carrying the limp bodies but not yet corpses towards the small naval warship. It was far from impressive, but the seizure inducing flashes of the camera’s made it seem as if the president of America had arrived. Truthfully, the current event was much more celebrated and rejoiced. Children who passed the beach the day before, busy with their daily life, would not have guessed what purpose it served, and it was better for them not to, lest they spread the news and get their entire town wiped out due to information leaks.
Once the cargo was loaded like livestock, personnel on the inside started their preparations. The jerseys were laid aside, the bodies arranged in groups and the collars in metal cases. A small, plastic component denoted the affiliation and the lucky owner’s name was engraved on the blast proof plate. They were careful to remove anything that might interfere with the signals, like piercings, earrings, necklaces, bracelets and any combination thereof; some soldiers sighed because last year’s all girls event netted more loot, yet the belongings had to be properly written up so perhaps there was a silver lining.
An irrelevant amount of time later, the first eyes had opened, muttering incoherent nonsense, before seemingly dozing off, and in turn the amount increased until most realized that the swaying room they found themselves in was not part of a dreamscape. Some started chattering with their teammates immediately, while others wondered why some didn’t seem to wake up and yet another tribe wondered what the weird contraptions around their necks were. Loud yammering of “What’s going on?” and “Man, I’m so sleepy,” and more whines were drowned out by a low, raspy voice booming out above the crowd.
“What the fuck is this shit?” yelled Akutsu, trying to bend his collar and grasping at the metal bars of the cage he found himself in. The frayed rope around his wrists meant nothing. His team watched him fearfully, but it was more so because of the situation. The dirty fluorescent lamps were embedded in the rusty walls and cast their uneven light on their bewildered expressions.
“What’s the meaning of this? Where are we? Is this some kind of joke?”
Questions hurled themselves through the air, directed at no one in specific. A few of them even dared to make jokes about the situation.
“Niou, can’t you magic these ropes away, damn, they really hurt.”
“That might be hard, puri.”
“Akaya, don’t pester Niou, we’re all in kind of a pinch here.”, Yagyuu said. Assessing the situation, he knew that whatever was happening wasn’t going to be part of an elaborate prank, but with Atobe attending the camp, you could never be sure.
“You’re no fun at a~ll”
Atobe himself felt uneasy, if having your hands bound and unable to stand up wasn’t already uncomfortable enough, he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Each second, that feeling grew and transformed into a biting, crushing sensation. His mood didn’t go unnoticed, as Kabaji silently put his hand on Atobe’s shoulder. The ruckus stopped when a few armed men stepped inside. They held impressive looking guns that matched with their uniforms. They swayed some of them around; all talk about jokes disappeared, and a few of them pulled back.
“What the- ““Silence!”, shouted the officer. He walked aside, sporting nothing more than a baton of the same kind as the one that hit Kintarou a few times. The bleeding had stopped, and Kintarou seemingly forgot anything that happened in the bus.
“Do you all know why you are here?”, the officer yelled. Before anyone could even muster an answer, he followed by extending his stick and striking Kirihara’s head. He yelped in pain, but being hold at gun point made his teammates refrain from helping him, or speaking out for that matter.
“That hurts you piece of shit!” Kirihara yelled. The strike didn’t make his head bleed, but would sure become a nasty bruise if left untreated. The officer stared him down before bringing his baton down again, this time hitting the space between his eyes. Urayama could hear the bone cracking.
“Do you have anything else to say?”, the officer asked. Kirihara glared at him, unaware of the stares he received from all over the room. “What if I have?”
Strike three. Strike four. And some more. By the time the officer was finished, Kirihara was on the verge of unconsciousness. His drool was dangling on his jersey, and his eyes were swollen. The officer decided that he wasn’t worth his time anymore and walked back to the centre, turning an eye to Rikkai as they quickly huddled next to him.
“This is what happens when you disobey. Anyone have more questions?”
Ootori swallowed his barf.
“It seems you guys are smarter than that one right there. In a minute, a few more familiar faces will explain what is expected of you. Until then, please keep seated unless you want to end up like that one.”
Six coaches walked in. They each did a salute towards the guards before turning towards the surprised children on the ground.
“Coach...”
“Be silent, Kikumaru.”
Ryuuzaki wore a stern face. It was like the way she frowned when anyone was losing a match badly, so they felt more intimidated because her expression was reminiscent of those times. Right now, they were surrounded by vaguely scary grownups with deadly weapons pointing at them; decidedly a much worse time. She cleared her voice: “Let’s get straight to the point. You have all been enlisted in the Battle Royal program.”
“Batt- ““Silence!” Sakaki yelled. His presence drowned even the smallest mutters. He courteously gave a nod to Ryuuzaki to continue her speech.
“Many of you won’t know what this program is. Some more educated,” – she shot a look at Atobe – “might have a vague idea of what the program is. Now, don’t be too curious, I’ll tell you the rules later. For now I would like all of you to think of an answer, you’re allowed to speak, why you guys were chosen specifically.”
There was no hostile feeling in her voice, but it took a while before anyone dared to raise his voice.
“Is it because we play tennis?” Echizen asked. He fidgeted a bit with his cap that had fallen off behind his back and looked at Ryuuzaki.
“I appreciate your style of thinking Echizen,” Ryuuzaki answered. His teammates were a bit dumbfounded by his answer. “While it was indeed tennis that was the cause of your recruitment, the actual criteria was set to be ‘teamwork’”. I’d like to clarify that you guys weren’t chosen on a whim either. This concept was already decided on a few years back, so you can assume we coached all of you fully with this event in mind. We don’t harbour any ill feelings against you, and you shouldn’t either.”
“Excuse me, but what about us? We don’t have any coach we work under and neither do Fudoumine and Rikkai,” Mizuki asked.
“In general, when we select a population to participate, we try to focus as much as we can on the general concept the newest guidelines dictate, in this case teamwork. Fudoumine’s tennis club attracted our collective attention, scoring extremely well on the national tournament, and being described as having an intense bond between its members. We have obviously also researched everyone’s background. In the same vein, Rikkaidai should be self-explanatory. As for Rudolph, you guys are currently housing two relatives of the already established participants. We decided to include you for both this and for your performances at the Kantou,” Ryuuzaki explained.
Mizuki was not sure whether he was satisfied by the half-assed explanation. He could continue his questioning, but he didn’t want to risk his face turning into a blueberry cake.
“I’ll give the word to Sakaki,” Ryuuzaki said as she side stepped and motioned for Sakaki to move forward.
“I will proceed with explaining the rules. You’d do best to remember them,” Sakaki said as he pulled down a white cloth. The projector got rolled in front of the students, the militants making sure that the cables didn’t get caught between the wheels like as seen on a damn variety show. The method of presenting was familiar to the Hyoutei students. It was eloquent and with poise, but it didn’t detract anything from the message he tried to convey.
“Simply said, we’re holding a Battle Royale. This means that there will be only one sole winner as opposed to a team win. Individuality has always been the main strength in this, but past years we have been striving to change this,” Sakaki explained. The attention was divided, but he managed to make them all look at him and the cloth. “That’s why we have received permission to change the ruling. Think of it as a fairer way of handling things that might ensure more survivors.”
Panic stricken expressions planted as a wave through the group. Ultimately, Tezuka was the one who dared to speak out. “With all due respect sir, but does survivor imply that we will have to do something that will endanger our lives?”
Sakaki nodded. “You will endanger your lives by participating in this.”
“Hu-huh? Akutsu, what does this mean?” Dan asked. He wasn’t really sure whether this was an elaborate game or not, but whatever was happening enraged the others, and Dan felt it.
“I really don’t stand for this, let me go home already,” Ibu muttered from his side. Some of them didn’t realize the gravity. They treated it the same as having a bad day, only bound up and in a stinky ship.
As the room rose, so did Sakaki’s temper, and it took a single shot from the officer to instantly quieten everyone.
“The next shot won’t miss!” he yelled, not aware that Sakaki had already continued his lecture.
“Now, it will be a team game, so don’t start talking between yourself again or someone might get hurt,” Sakaki said. He took the baton out of the officer’s hand and used it as a pointer. The officer grumbled and sat down, observing the bullet that lodged itself in the steel pipe above them. For what it mattered, the ship wouldn’t be reused again.
“There are two conditions in how you, either as a team or as an individual person can win the game. The first one is the one we would prefer you’d use. Your team - he pointed to a black dot on the cloth – will eliminate all other teams, I will explain that later. We have special measures to account for the unfairness that a bigger team has.” Seishun Gakuen, Hyotei Gakuen, Shitenhouji Gakuen and Rikkai Dai would have the largest amount of participants, totalling nine of them. They would be followed by Yamabuki and lastly the others. “The second condition is if you can successfully eliminate everyone else. It’s a rather brutish option, but still an option nonetheless.”
Colourful dots lined up in an old fashioned slide presentation. Slight chatter broke out among the group, but no one dared to rise above a whisper.
“There’s a time limit of one week exactly. Additionally, if no one is eliminated in the first 24 hours, we will randomly select a member of each team that will be eliminated when the second day begins.”, Sakaki continued. The quickness with which he switched over to the next subject was astounding. “Elimination can be done in two ways. The subject that is to be eliminated will have their brainstem stop functioning or their heartbeat cease. In layman terms, they’re dead.”
The next moments were quiet, yet still met with disbelief. It still seemed like a prank, albeit a very complex and malicious one. It hadn’t settled in yet, but the creeping realization had slowly planted its feet.
“Coach, my father will definitely not stand for this.”, Atobe spat. He had heard rumours about this “Battle Royale”, he even made investigations, but all of them returned empty. His parents reassured him, told him not to worry about it, but it didn’t help him at all in this precarious situation.
“Atobe... If this is one of your special training camps again, I have to say that it isn’t funny at all,” Oshitari lamented. He wasn’t indifferent towards the situation, but he was sure to keep his calm to assess the situation. Atobe gnarled. This was ridiculous.
“H-hey, calm down, we can do this right? I mean they all said we only had to work in teams to ensure our survival,” Nomura meekly whispered in his team’s direction. He didn’t want to be nonchalant about it, but the nerves wracked his brain. Mizuki, who was seated next to him, was furious to say the least. Yuuta was angrily talking him down for even considering such a stupid idea.
“Are you really that stupid!? There’s no way we can cooperate!” Atobe suddenly shouted, gathering the attention of the nearby teams. “It will only ensure the victory of one team, which if you didn’t understand will wipe out the other teams!”
“B-but I mean, realistically, we won’t betray each other. As long as we’re aiming for th-“
“Do you hear yourself talking?” a voice meekly said next to him.
Mizuki was biting his thumbnail, something he rarely did as substitution for his hair twirling. “Look at your friends Nomura.”
His softer voice struck Nomura. He followed his instruction and tried to get a better glimpse at his teammates. Akazawa was trying to communicate with the other captains, but his attempts were buried due to Kaneda’s sobbing. Yanagisawa was losing his temper, bothering Kisarazu who didn’t look good at all. In fact, he looked a bit nauseous, probably because of boat sickness. It clicked. Nomura immediately saw why they wouldn’t be able to cooperate.
“No way, I’m not killing my brother,” Yuuta stated. “I won’t allow anyone to die.”
“That’s a shared sentiment,” Fuji said. “I won’t stand for letting anyone die either.”
“Now, let’s not get riled up.” Banji took the stage with a megaphone. The sound temporarily incapacitated the ones in the front. “I know it’s hard to think of killing people, but I’d advise you listen.”
“Agreed, Banda. Let’s continue.”
Between the chatters, Sakaki felt no need to educate those not willing to listen. “This here is an overview of the isle we will be boarding. It is divided in zones, think of them like courts, although they’re much larger. If any of you thought of escaping or showed abhorrent behaviour, we will be able to eliminate you in a split second. The collar around your neck has an explosive device.” Like monkeys listening to their trainer, many lifted their hands and started grasping at the collar which innocently rested on their clavicles. “In the past, we’ve had some… creative participants. Do not think you’re scot free if you manage to get that collar off. The isle is under 24/7 camera and audio surveillance. Suspicious behaviour will be cut down, with or without that collar.”
Sakaki turned around. “Every day, we will announce 3 zones that will be made forbidden.” He pointed at the grid again. “The announcement will be made 15 minutes before the zone will shut down; if a collar per chance happened to be in the zone when it gets locked down, it will be activated instantly. These zones will stay locked down, positioning you and your team so you have an escape route is the smartest thing to do.” Switch. Another slide. It comprised a wall of text. Upon closer inspection, it summarized the rules.
- To win you must either
- Eliminate the opponent teams
- Eliminate everyone
- The isle is divided in zones. A map will be provided and every day, three zones will get selected and made a forbidden zone. Entering or staying in a zone results in elimination.
- If in 24 hours no one is eliminated, a randomly chosen member of each team will be eliminated. This will be repeated after every elimination.
- Eliminating the captain of a team will result in immediate elimination of the entire team.
- The time limit is 7 days. If none of the winning conditions have been met, everyone is eliminated.
“Wa-wait, isn’t rule 4 extremely unfair?”, Inui asked. “Doesn’t it mean that the captain will have the most risky position out of us all? He’ll be immensely targeted.”
“T-targeted?” Aoi shivered.
“That is correct, but appropriate measures have been taken,” Banji answered. Small subtext appeared.
- The captain has access to following privileges:
- Guaranteed fire weapon
- Radar to detect teammates
“It might be a bit obvious, but we can’t have you bare hand murder everyone. Well we can, but it’s unnecessary cruel and we don’t believe that it will benefit anyone. It has been decided since long that we will provide weapons, to speed up the progress and to offer a quick end and-,” Banji paused. “-of course we can’t give everyone a fire weapon. If there are plenty of lunatics, the game would be over in a second. That’s why we-“ he took out a jar with plastic balls “-will distribute these weapons at random. We will do that after everyone has discussed strategies and the like with their counsellor, for which you will be given time until we will break ashore.”
Before the projector was stowed away, the military opened the cage, lined up and dragged the boys to their feet. Even with their above average strength, the trained men were more than able to throw them and kick them to their feet. They were pushed into a gang, and one by one the men led them into one of the doors, with the three coach-less groups remaining in the room.