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KamiKaze
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Can you hear me?
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Junko Kurosawa knew fear all too well.

She’d long been acquainted with the feeling that comes right when you’re on the track in a crouch start, waiting for that whistle. Those brief seconds at the skate park, when you’re up in the air? That was even more familiar to her. Learning how to vault over an obstacle the right way? She was getting used to that feeling. She’d even felt it a few times while playing video games. Point is, Junko knew what it was like to be scared. However, that fear usually came with a sense of… well, excitement. For most of her life, she had craved that particular form of energy. Whether it was the 400m dash, performing a new trick on her rollerblades, practicing parkour, or even when she first started playing games about haunted animatronics, Junko lived for that. Maybe her brain was wired a little differently. Who knows?

However, even that couldn’t prepare her for waking up to what had to been the entire class tied up and panicking. It definitely couldn’t have prepared her for seeing what looked like some soldiers with guns. To think that Junko could have just laughed off seeing Graham getting killed in front of her? That was inconceivable.

Yeah, they kidnapped them. "They" as in those terrorists. Why did they attack a school like Cochise, anyways? Who the fuck knows? All Junko knew was that that she woke up bound to a chair, with a shitload of classmates and Graham. Some guy showed up with gun and he shot him. Just like that. Not an ounce of guilt or anything. Junko could remember how her face had contorted once the red splattered everywhere. It wasn't like anything in a movie, where headshots were kind of cool and only slightly gruesome. It was like his head cracked open and exploded, all at once. They played them some movie, about a boy shooting someone, but she wasn't really paying attention. But she got the gist of it all. Survival of the Fittest. Kill or be killed. The next thing she knew, she woke up on some helicopter pad.

To be honest, Junko didn’t pay attention to the entire spiel. Instead, her eyes were focused on Graham. Could they die like that? Just shot suddenly? She didn’t want to think of it. Instead, her mind was focused on one thought. It was one thought that stayed with her even when they gassed them again.

The gas had worn off surprisingly quickly for her. However, the thought stayed with her. She didn’t want to die the same way Graham did. Just helplessly waiting to get shot? That was undignified. Graham was a cool teacher. Junko was normally shit at things like equations, so she didn't expect to be any good at Physics. But he made it easy for her to understand. He was a cool, funny teacher. Yeah, he did frown at her when she goofed off, but what teacher didn't? She only just now realized that she couldn't have had a better Physics teacher.

The thought that had stayed with her was almost like a promise. That kind of death? Her life wasn’t supposed to end that way. She wasn’t sure what would be a preferable way to die, but one thing was certain, even when her fingers first touched the wooden bat.

She’d never die like that.

How long had it been since she’d woken up? A few hours? She was getting antsy, to be honest. Junko hadn’t done a lot since then. She’d looked through the bag, yeah. A quick look-over told her that there was pretty much everything she needed in it. Afterwards, Junko had practiced a bit with the bat. It wasn’t hard, swinging a bat in the air. They’d done baseball-type stuff a few times in P.E. She’d been good at it. Though, that was because she was fast, not because she was a good pitcher or hitter.

Right as she finished a swing, someone finally came sprinting. That was Darius Van Dyke. She remembered him. Junko still had the memory of him drunkenly singing Vocaloid songs at her party. That memory was stained into her brain for a lifetime. Junko had stopped, but her hands gripped tighter around the bat. Junko’s eyes quickly flicked up and down, figuring him out. She didn’t see a weapon, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one. Just that she couldn’t see it.

“Oh, hey Darius”, she said. “You… startled me.”

Her voice was friendly. She managed to smile. Yet, one more thought popped into her head. If he fucked with her, she wasn’t going down easily. Not a murderer, just someone who was going to go down swinging. That’s her.
RICHARDS/BAINES OTP!

Coming to a V7 near you.
Bree Jones- "I'm not exaggerating when I say that my fish are smarter."
Roxanne "Roxie" Borowski- "Next video? Oh man, tons of ideas, dude. Lemme get the makeup for that."

In Loving Memory

Humiliating things I caught you guys saying

Kami's Promise for v6 (doing this again)

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Let's show that private threads aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on island in V6. If I started a thread, you are welcome to join it.
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96+ Quite Bitter Beings · Helipad