If I wrote Danganronpa Dr1 Dr2 and V3

Danganronpa 52: Chapter 4

Victim: Tsumugi Shirogane the Ultimate Cosplayer
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Blackened: Ryoma Hoshi the Ultimate Tennis Pro
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Cause of Death: Drowned in the bathtub in her dorm
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Execution: Ryoma found himself standing on one side of a tennis court, completely unbound with free range of movement. Looking down at his left hand he noticed he was holding a tennis racket, presumably given to him by Monokuma. It was white and red with a blue stripe down the middle, matching his signature tennis racket that he used in all of his matches.
On the other side of the net was a ball-firing machine, pointed right at him. This was nothing unfamiliar to Ryoma as he had used these machines often while training for his matches. Surrounded by tennis-related items and holding his signature tennis racket, Ryoma might dare to say he felt a bit comfortable. Feelings of nostalgia came flooding back into him, memories of winning championships and training with his teammates swirled around in his mind.

Ryoma's relative peace of mind was interrupted by Monokuma's shrill, piercing voice.

"Ahem! Testing, testing!" Ryoma's anxiety instantly resurfaced, his whole body stiffening at the sound of Monokuma's voice. "Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Tennis Pro! I have an announcement for you! If you can manage to land a hit on each and every one of the tennis balls fired at you then you will be free to go. If not... Upupupu... Well, you can guess! See ya!"

Monokuma's voice cut out and was replaced with the sound of the machine revving up. Ryoma gulped, a tinge of nervousness spreading throughout his consciousness. It had been a while since he had held a tennis racket, but he was confident enough in his skills to complete the task set in front of him.

The first tennis ball fired out of the machine, then another, and then another. Ryoma hit each of them effortlessly. Slowly picking up the pace, more and more tennis balls were fired at him. Despite the machine's increasing speed, Ryoma managed to hit every single ball perfectly, hitting them with pinpoint accuracy onto the other side of the net.

The firing of the tennis balls increased exponentially, the balls being fired at a rapid pace and in different directions. Ryoma lunged to and fro in an attempt to hit every ball, but he found his body growing weaker and his movements growing slower. Each ball felt heavier and harder to hit as he felt lactic acid building up in his muscles, his arms and legs becoming fatigued. Nonetheless, he pushed forward, the adrenaline running through his veins overtaking him and overriding his physical inhibitions.

The firing of the balls became more haphazard, firing above his head, brushing against his cheek, and firing in between his knees. Each tennis ball became increasingly dangerously close to striking his body, and Ryoma became more desperate to hit the tennis balls away from him.

However, no amount of adrenaline running through his veins could have prepared him for a tennis ball smashing into his calf at lightning speed. Ryoma fell to the ground, propping himself up on one knee. In the few seconds he took the recollect himself, dozens of balls sped past him, which he was unable to hit. Ryoma's heart was pounding in his head, his entire body and leg throbbing.

Upon attempting to stand back up, another tennis ball cracked his left wrist, shattering the fragile bone. He grunted and immediately dropped the tennis racket and fell back down to his knees. Holding his wrist with his other hand, he tried to ignore the burning sensation of pain spreading throughout his wrist. Ryoma shifted the tennis racket to his right hand and stood up once more, breathing heavily.

His entire body was shaking and he found it hard to grip the tennis racket in his right hand, but he refused to give up. Handling a tennis racket in his non-dominant hand wasn't something he was used to, but he had done it on a few occasions during his training just for the sake of training all of his muscles. He began swinging the racket again, albeit slowly, attempting to hit the tennis balls being shot at him.

Missing more balls than he managed to hit, Ryoma came to the conclusion that his efforts were fruitless. He turned his back towards the machine in a last-ditch effort to protect himself from the blows. One last tennis ball, made completely out of metal, fired out of the machine. It slammed into Ryoma's neck, cracking the muscle in half instantly. Ryoma's now lifeless body fell to the floor, laying limp and helpless. Hundreds of tennis balls surrounded his body, a few still rolling along the floor of the tennis court. The machine finally turned off, leaving Ryoma to rest in silence.
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Execution Name: 1000 Blows 2.0