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calice-says · 3 months ago

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Shoot Your Shot!

Sypnosis:

Ignoring their antics, Isogai turned to the other brunette. “So are you thinking of joining?”

Tenma hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously against his cup. “I’m not really sure yet,” he admitted. His mind conjured plenty of very unhelpful images, flashing through his head one after another. He shuddered slightly.

Slowly drawing the string back, he took a deep, steady breath. Once it reached the perfect tension, he exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing despite the firm grip on the bow. His sharp gaze remained locked onto the target, unwavering, as the world around him seemed to fade into a hush of anticipation.

He thought back to how the arrow had perfectly sliced through the air, gliding smoothly as if the very particles were made of tofu. The smile that had stretched across her that face, the way those violet eyes shimmered with pride and victory when the tip struck the target dead center—he could still feel the lingering rush of that moment.

He wanted to feel it again. To feel what she felt.

He let go of the string and watched as the arrow shot across the range, zipping through the air so fast he almost couldn't track it—until he heard the sharp thunk of impact. His breath hitched for a moment, eyes flicking to the target.

Just outside the bullseye. Close enough to brush the edge, but not enough to claim the center.

A soft huff escaped him as he slowly lowered his arms, the bow coming down with them. The lingering ache in his shoulders and arms, a dull reminder of his stance, gradually faded as he loosened his grip.

Yet, his eyes never wavered from the target, where his arrow stood firm, embedded just shy of the center.

“So close…” Tenma murmured, his voice tinged with pride, elated with a hint of thrill.

A bright smile curled around his lips. Progress, he thought. A good progress.

A short, swift whistle cut through the quiet air, and Tenma craned his neck toward the source—a woman with a soft yet clearly impressed expression. Her gaze lingered on the target meters away, but that didn’t stop her from moving toward him.

Finally, those sharp eyes that told stories of experience turned to him. Green irises shimmered with an emotion he couldn't quite place, but he had a feeling it was something akin to anticipation and delight.

Just as she stopped in front of him, Tenma shifted his feet to face her and pushed his protective eye goggles up, letting them rest on his head.

“It's like you're getting better by each minute,” She said, voice softer as always, but her tone dripped with genuine admiration. He spotted the playful glint around her eyes, however. “Are you thinking of surpassing me?”

Tenma froze, his face heating up from the unexpected remark as he stood there sputtering. His grip on the bow even faltered, emphasizing his surprise—and a rather funny sight, given how the woman smiled amusingly.

But unfortunately it seemed that the teenager didn't notice.

“I— I could never! Shionji-san, you're really amazing! I don't think I can reach to your level that soon, I mean—!”

As Tenma fumbled over his words, trying to explain himself in hopes of clearing up any potential misunderstanding (whatever it was), both of his hands tightened around the bow—either as a way to steady himself or to stop them from moving too much—all while pulling it closer to his chest.

“The only reason I got this far was because you taught me a lot, and I just—”

His sentence was cut short by a soft giggle. Startled, Tenma sharply looked up, only then realizing that, somewhere in the middle of his rambling, he had lowered his head.

Shionji gave him a close-eyed smile, tilting her head to the side as her pale purple bangs smoothly swayed along the movement. “Flattery won't get you anywhere, Matsukaze-kun.”

“I'm sorry—”

“I'm just teasing you, dear, please relax.”

“I— I'm sorry...?” Baffled, Tenma stared at the woman with an uncertain smile.

Shionji sighed softly, shaking her head good-naturally before looking at him with an almost intent gaze. “I must say though, that was rather an over-exaggeration from your part,” She quipped airily, “I simply taught you everything you needed to know—from the basic and such. You're the one who took those lessons and turned them into skill, crafted them into something uniquely yours.” she finished, her voice light yet firm.

With a kind smile, she said, “Give yourself a little more credit, Matsukaze-kun.”

Tenma blinked, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but something in her steady gaze made him hesitate. She wasn't just being polite—she genuinely meant it.

A warm, tad shy feeling filled his chest. It almost felt overwhelming that he dropped his gaze to the ground again, thumbs grazing across the material of the bow.

“I just…” He exhaled, his grip on the bow loosening slightly. “I guess I don't really see it that way? There's still so much I need to improve on.”

Shionji hummed thoughtfully, nodding in understanding. “There's always room for improvement,” she agreed. “Even for me.”

Tenma's eyes widened slightly, looking at her again. “Even you?”

She chuckled. “Of course. No one ever truly masters a craft. We just keep refining it, step by step.” Then, with a teasing glint in her eyes, she added, “Though, I suppose some of us refine it faster than others.”

Cheeks flushed, he murmured, “I think you're over-exaggerating, Shionji-san.”

“It's rude to dismiss a lady's compliment, young man.” The woman tutted.

“Ah, I'm sorry!”

Green eyes narrowed.

“Th— Thank you.”

Tenma let out a soft, relieved sigh when Shionji nodded in approval. He heard the crinkling of paper and followed the sound with his gaze, landing on the stapled pages extended toward him.

Wordlessly, he took them and examined the front page. “What's this?” he inquired, eyeing a particular bolded phrase.

Vanguard Range's Annual Tournament: Shoot Your Shot!

Shionji's lips curled into a wide, excited smile. “Consider it your next step.”

Tenma's eyes darted between the woman and the paper, curiosity flickering across his face. After a few moments of processing, something clicked in his mind. He blinked in disbelief before fixing Shionji with a look of shock.

“Wait… are you saying you want me to join this?”

“If you want,” she replied smoothly, folding her arms.

“But—” He hesitated, glancing at the papers again. “Am I even allowed to enter? I mean… I'm still a minor.”

Shionji nodded, as if expecting the question. “Initially, minors weren’t allowed to compete,” she admitted. “But before I even started working here, the rules changed. As long as you get a parental or guardian consent form signed and have an adult accompany you, you’re good to go.”

Tenma smiled a bit nervously, still caught up on the fact that she was explaining this as casually as if she were talking about the weather.

Frankly, he considered it for a moment until his mind drifted to a particular detail.

“Wait, we won't be using anything real, right?” He recalled the many stocked bullets, real arrows, knives, and other weapons neatly arranged in their designated divisions and stands.

She let out a soft laugh. “Of course not. Everything used in the tournament is an alternative—paint bullets, foam-tipped arrows, things like that. The goal is skill and accuracy, not actual combat.”

She suddenly paused, and a pondering look took its place within her features. “Actually,” She began to retract her statement. “In the finale game there is an actual combat of sorts.”

Tenma hummed in curiosity, though his stomach twisted with anxiety.

Shionji tapped a finger against her chin, her expression thoughtful. “Well, to reach the final round, participants must go through three challenges. The first is the Speed and Precision Round, where you’re tested on how fast and accurately you can hit targets. Pretty straightforward.”

Tenma nodded slowly, already picturing himself in that kind of setting.

“The second challenge…” She trailed off briefly, as if deciding how much to reveal. “Well, it’s a bit different each year. Keeps things interesting. But generally, it’s designed to push your adaptability and skill under pressure. In hindsight, the first two challenges were merely defaults; their purpose was to stack up points.”

“Right,” Tenma muttered, taking mental notes. “And the final one?”

Shionji’s lips curled into a slight smirk. “The Survival Round.” She answered so simply, yet those words seemed to carry weight that Tenma felt his heart skip a beat.

The woman continued, “It’s a battle royale-style challenge where all remaining participants compete against each other until only one is left standing.”

Tenma blinked. “Wait—so it's actual combat?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” she reassured. “No one’s getting injured. But it does involve strategy, endurance, and outlasting your opponents. That’s why we use non-lethal alternatives. All competitors will be limited to using only paint-coated foamed arrows and paintball bullets.”

Tenma exhaled in relief but quickly caught onto something. “So… I can’t enter that one?”

Shionji hesitated for a fraction of a second before giving him a knowing look. “Minors are generally restricted from the Survival Round,” she admitted. “But… there’s a small exception.” She said it with her voice lowered in volume, as if she were speaking a taboo.

Tenma perked up, however. “What kind of exception?”

“If you outperform the others in the first two challenges—score higher, prove your skill—you might be reconsidered for the final round.”

Once he finished relaying the events of the previous day, Tenma contentedly sipped his ice-cold almond coffee. The liquid cooled his throat before spreading through his entire body, the caffeine already thrumming in his bloodstream.

He watched as his friends took turns examining the papers, reading through the descriptions of each challenge, the safety protocols, rules, and other details.

In the meantime, he let his gaze drift.

His eyes wandered across the café, tracing the faint reflections on the windowpane and the gentle swirl of steam from freshly brewed drinks. The low hum of conversation, the occasional clatter of cups against saucers, and the rhythmic tapping of fingers against phone screens blended into the cozy atmosphere.

“I didn’t know the annual tournament is coming up soon,” Isogai was the first to speak, laying the document flat on the table—only for Maehara to snatch it up to take a closer look. “But the bigger surprise is that the entry fee is free.”

Tenma smiled sheepishly, while beside him, Kariya hummed, his own copy neatly settled in front of him.

“Must be some sort of marketing strategy to get more people to join and participate,” Kariya remarked, pushing himself off the backrest of the seat to lean forward and eye the same document given to him. “Sure, the entry fee is free, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be spending money. Like the snacks you’ll end up buying in between rounds.”

He pointed at something on the paper, “Look. ‘Exclusive Tournament Merch & Refreshment Booths Available On-Site.’”

Tenma leaned over to look at the phrase Kariya was pointing to, letting out a questioning hum to prompt him to elaborate.

“Think about it—you’re in a long tournament, you’ll get hungry, right? And hey, what better way to flex your participation than a limited-edition tournament hoodie or keychain?” Kariya remarked matter-of-factly, before smirking as the other three made noises of understanding when the realization dawned on them. “They know exactly what they’re doing. The event’s free, and aside from the provided protection gear and other equipment, everything else around it? That’s where they make bank.”

“And since VR values security and safety, SYS is allowing anonymity,” Maehara chimed in, eyeing a specific part of the document, “they’re allowing participants to wear masks or disguises if they want to stay unknown. But since it’s not exactly a rule, I’m pretty sure some—if not most—people won’t bother. I mean, bragging rights exist.”

He tapped the paper with a finger. “It says here that it’s up to us whether we want to stay anonymous or not, but if we do, we have to bring our own disguise.”

Tenma glanced at the section Maehara was referring to. “Ooh…”

Maehara continued, nodding along. “If you want to stay hidden, that’s on you. Guess they don’t want to deal with a bunch of people demanding custom-made masks or something.”

Isogai chuckled. “Makes sense. But it also means some participants will take full advantage of it—imagine some guy walking in with a full-on festival mask just to look cool.”

Maehara grinned, already picturing a scenario. “You’re acting like that wouldn’t be hilarious.”

Tenma hummed, staring at the page thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure if he would go for a disguise, but it was interesting to know he had the option.

His mind reeled.

Wait, why was he already considering this? He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to join or not. There were already casual matches and practice games he could take part in—the only difference was that they didn’t come with any fancy prizes or recognition.

“These look intense,” Maehara whistled lowly, impressed. He flipped to another page before reaching for his drink—Hazelnut Iced Coffee—and took a sip, all while never taking his eyes off the paper. He grinned, “Think I’d look good using throwing weapons?”

“As if,” Kariya scoffed, lazily swirling his latte with the straw as he watched the ice shift and clink together. “I vaguely recall someone trying to throw a ball, only for it to go backward instead of forward.”

The blonde teenager bristled, “Hey, that was months ago. And that was a fluke!” He exclaimed, lightly glaring at Kariya, who merely arched a brow in amusement.

Kariya smirked, taking another leisurely sip of his latte.

Maehara, clearly not one to back down, leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Oh, I see how it is. You wanna throw shade, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with Kariya. “Well, maybe if you had the same... finesse with your aim, I could help you out.”

Kariya raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Is that so? And what, you think you could teach me something?”

“Absolutely,” Maehara said, his tone dripping with playful confidence. He leaned back in his seat, flashing a cocky smile. “You know, with the way you keep observing me, I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing for me, Kariya. You just can’t resist all this skill and charm.”

Kariya’s expression shifted from amusement to a mix of disbelief and mild irritation. Unfortunately, it was too late for him to realize that he had stepped right into a trap. “Oh, hell no—”

“Oh, come on, I can’t help it if I’m this irresistible,” Maehara interrupted smoothly, winking with that signature charm of his. One could clearly see the evident amusement swirl in his honey brown eyes

Unfortunately for Maehara, he forgot that Kariya could be quite physical, and the realization hit him the moment he felt Kariya kick his shin from underneath the table.

“Ow! Goddamn, Kariya! Can’t a guy get some slack…?” Maehara hunched over pitifully, pulling his assaulted leg up, but not before shaking off his shoe so he could rest his socked foot over the chair.

Kariya merely clicked his tongue, huffing in annoyance, but Tenma and Isogai could see the smile form around his lips as he wrapped them around his straw and proceeded to sip his coffee as if he hadn’t just kicked Maehara under the table.

“Suffer,” Kariya muffled, making obnoxious sipping noises to aggravate the other, receiving a mild glare from Maehara, who was nursing his knee.

Ignoring their antics, Isogai turned to the other brunette. “So are you thinking of joining?”

He couldn’t deny the little spark of excitement and thrill coursing through him, but the thought of actually competing against a bunch of strangers—with everyone watching him?

Quite nerve-wracking.

It was especially worse in an enclosed space.

Condescending giggles and snickers reached his ears as he fumbled with his cards, standing before them.

He shook his head and glanced over at Kariya before looking away quickly. "I mean, it sounds fun, but…"

Kariya, sensing where this was going, gave him a careless shrug. "I’m down if you’re down," he said, his tone nonchalant.

Tenma frowned slightly, still unsure. “But do you actually want to join?” he asked, looking directly at Kariya, seeking more than just an easy answer.

Kariya blinked, clearly puzzled by the question. He put his drink down and gave his friend his full attention. “Why are you asking me what I want? What about you?”

Tenma sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, I do, but I’m not sure. And if you’re joining, I guess I will too? It’d be nice if someone I know would participate as well…” He trailed off, the words not quite coming together as he tried to explain himself.

Kariya’s brow furrowed briefly. “Then I’m joining. Simple as that.”

Tenma blinked, momentarily thrown by the straightforward response. He smiled, but just as quickly as it appeared, it faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “But what if I didn’t join? Would you still…?”

Kariya groaned, leaning back in his chair. “My god, Tenma, make up your mind.” He berated the boy, eliciting a dry snort.

The brunette shrank into himself. “Sorry,” He mumbled, smiling sheepishly. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question—”

“This isn’t about me—”

“But it kind of is when I’m the one asking—”

The pair sitting across from them observed the exchange. Maehara and Isogai glanced at each other before Maehara’s lips curled into a soft smile as he set his foot down.

“Well, if you guys are joining, mind if we do too?”

The other pair paused their back-and-forth, shifting their attention to the two. Immediately, Tenma broke into a wide, excited grin.

“Really?”

Isogai smiled softly. “The more, the merrier, right? SYS starts in two months—I’m sure I can save enough by then…”

Everyone perked up by that and it was Kariya who voiced out their questions, “You planning to go anonymous?”

“Well, yes,” the darker brunette admitted sheepishly, bringing up his caramel macchiato for a short, swift sip before setting the plastic cup down. “I’m thinking maybe a mask? The event’s going to be big, and I like to have something that could remind me of it,” Isogai explained, tapping a finger against the cup’s lid. “You know, something that’ll make me go, ‘Yeah, that was the tournament where the four of us joined and had a blast.’”

Tenma’s smile softened. “That’s actually kind of nice.”

“Didn’t peg you to be the sentimental type,” Kariya commented, but considering the look in his eyes, he shared the same sentiment. “So we’re all going anonymous then?”

“Hell yeah,” Maehara cheered, “since school will be almost over, we might as well do this with a bang. Any themes?”

As they delved into a lighthearted debate over potential themes—ranging from something cool to something completely ridiculous—Tenma leaned back in his seat, letting their voices blend into the café’s warm atmosphere.

The tournament was still two months away, but with all four of them in, it already felt like something worth looking forward to.

“Ah yikes, looks like we forgot one crucial detail.”

Isogai’s voice, tinged with concern, pulled Tenma out of his reverie. Isogai held up the consent paper that came along with the main document of rules and regulations. “We need a guardian to accompany us.” He winced, and that was when a clear understanding washed over them.

Isogai’s mother is sick, and Kariya’s only legal guardian comes and goes.

Maehara hissed in sympathy, “I’ll try to ask and convince my sister… It’ll be a bit hard though, considering that she is already in her last year of high school…”

Tenma frowned, and his mind wandered about what to do. Would Aki-nee really let him join the tournament? He remembered how hesitant she had been when he first told her about VR last year. The idea of him suddenly wanting to visit a shooting range had worried her, and for a while, she flat-out refused.

Which was understandable because who would want to risk a literal minor having access to firearms and whatnot?

It took some convincing (and Kariya) before she finally relented, allowing him to go on the condition that he was careful.

At first, she’d come with him during his outings—whether he was by himself, with Kariya, or with the rest of their friend group—until she trusted him enough to let him go on his own, with the condition that he had at least a friend with him in case, god forbid, something goes wrong.

But a tournament? That was a different story entirely. The stakes felt higher, even if the equipment was harmless. Tenma couldn’t help but wonder how he’d convince Aki-nee to let him participate.

He didn’t realize he was looking down at his lap, and when he tilted his head to open his mouth, he was met with three anticipating gazes.

He blinked, briefly at a loss before he sweatdropped, already able to tell what was on their minds.

“I’ll… try to ask Aki-nee,” he conceded.

They didn’t even bother hiding those cheerful grins. Well, it wasn’t like Tenma was expecting them to.

Word Count: 3,527 Date Created: August 2022 Date Edited, Continued, and Refined: November 2024

If you figured out/know who I am then congrats ig, and hello

Don't ask when this timeline takes place, even I don't know ahaha

Honestly, I just had a funny dream that involved them doing real-life obbies... and from there, I got these ideas and inspiration. It's even better because I already had an HC of them that they go to shooting ranges during their free time, even before the dream

Hope yall enjoyed this dump of mine tho ig

Bye byeeee

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