Game of Traitors | A BNHA Fanfiction

Why Us?

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back with another chapter! As always, enjoy! Just like last chapter, this one is super long! Hang in there!

Song for this Chapter: Oh No!– Marina and the Diamonds
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"I forgot you don't know anything. Two people who are suspected to be the Traitor go head to head in a gladiatorial fight to the death."

"A gladiatorial what now?" Kirishima asks, his eyes widened, lips parted in shock.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, my insides dancing to the tune of anxiety inducing music. Fight to the death? Am I going to have to witness people die? I mean, didn't gladiators fight in front of a large crowd?

"Fight to the death. God, this season is just plain dense," Monoma rolls his eyes, as I narrow mine.

"How the heck do people get chosen to...do this?" I huff, my hands grasping at my curly green hair, pulling so maybe I'll be able to alleviate my stress.

"The competitors vote. I'm just saying this because it usually happens after two competitors are taken down, and judging by how many people are in this room..." Monoma takes a look around, "...it's approaching."

My throat turns dry. The others have to vote? So they vote two people to go up against each other and...kill each other? How the hell is this still televised? Why hasn't anybody ever spoken up about this? Why do people still watch this at all?

My body is overcome with cold sweat, as small labored breaths leave my lips in a panicked sequence. At least I'm not the only one. Iida's glasses are fogged up from his hyperventilating. Jiro's eyes are wide. Ashido's burying her head in between her knees. Yaoyurozu's cupping her mouth with her hand. Todoroki's squeezing his pillow. Kirishima's tugging at his hair.

Kacchan scoffs, "You mean to tell me, that some random, pompous asshole just came out of a lamp smelling like fucking lavender scented woman's deodorant, telling us that were gonna have to do a gladiatorial whatever the fuck and we're supposed to believe him?"

Iida glares at Kacchan, as we all turn our heads to look at him, "Katsuki Bakugo, do you not realize the severity of this? Another one of us could die for fuck's sake! Excuse my language," he hisses, immediately slapping his hand over this mouth afterwards, gasping.

"Oh, just admit it, Four Eyes, you just want to get voted to get killed off and win!" Kacchan crosses his arms over his chest. He stands up, walking towards Iida, his glare digging into the very depths of Iida's soul, "That's why you care so much!"

It can't be that. We all care! Our lives are at stake! The lives of our friends!

Iida gasps, placing his hands on his waist, his jaw dropped and eyes narrowed, as he looks down at Kacchan, angered, "What on Earth are you talking about, Bakugo?!"

"You're the Decoy, fuckwad!" Kacchan gives Iida's chest a mighty tug, letting out a loud grunt, "Don't you fucking play coy with me. You just want to get killed off so you'll win and we'll all fucking suffer! Selfish son of a bitch!" He yells, his hands balling into fists.

Iida grits his teeth, a vein sticking out of his neck and forehead, as he glares, "And what if I am the Decoy?! I'm not the one who's going around literally slaughtering and murdering our friends with no second thought whatsoever! Don't vote for me in the deathmatch, I don't care! But don't try to convince everyone else not to with your senseless rhetoric!"

Monoma glances at Iida, then at Kacchan, his lips turning into a wide smirk, "Oh, I know that look, that scent too," he snickers cockily. Scent? He struts over to Kacchan with his hands behind his back, feigning innocence. He places his hand on Kacchan's shoulder,"I can smell a Traitor from a mile away, I mean, I had to act as one so I'd get eliminated. This dude right here, he reeks. Like a large, steaming pile of fresh horse shit on a hot summer day in freaking Sicily. I would know, my family's got a cabin."