mission report for clipsie (part 7 of 7)
Back to Part Six
"I'm sorry."
Joshima was sitting up in his hospital bed, staring straight ahead of him from behind the gauze around his eyes as the blackened lighter sat innocently in his palm.
Sakamoto was in a hospital gown of his own, sitting down on the side of the bed as he rubbed at the thick bandage on his chest.
"It didn't work."
Joshima didn't reply. He seemed frozen, lips slightly parted and trembling, body so, so small in the folds of the white sheets.
"There... wasn't anything I could do."
The words spilled from Sakamoto's mouth without thinking. He couldn't think. If he thought, he'd have to relive it. If he thought, he wouldn't be able to finish building the black stone wall around his heart.
"But Cuttle's gone. For good." He brought a hand up to push his bangs out of his eyes, shoulder aching from the effort. "The whole building is."
Joshima curled both his hands around the lighter, the plastic no longer slick, but rough and grating against his skin. He brought it to his chest, gaze falling towards the bedsheets.
"I'm not going back. To campus." Sakamoto shook his head. "I don't think I'll... be able to go back for a while."
There was the sound of a rolling cart outside, and Sakamoto paused, glancing up at the door, but the nurse pushing it kept walking down the hallway, and soon the sound of it began to fade.
"I'm gonna put a stop to this." Sakamoto's eyes hardened, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "I'm not gonna let something like this happen again." The words seemed to echo off the walls, even as they barely whispered past his lips. "...but I don't think I can do it alone." He paused a second, then looked back to Joshima, who still hadn't moved, frozen in the middle of the sheets with his body curled around the lighter. "I want you to-..." His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. "...I need you to help me."
Joshima didn't respond. Didn't even raise his head. He continued to stare wordlessly at the sheets.
"I need your power. I know you can't-... I know you can't see them anymore..." Sakamoto unlaced and re-laced his fingers. "...but I know you can still hear them. And I know you can still feel them." He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. "And nothing I do, no matter how much I study, no matter how much I train, and no matter how much I have in my arsenal... it would never come close to what having your help could do for me." He realized his hands were clenched so tightly together that his arms were shaking, so he relaxed his shoulders with a deep breath. "I don't know what I'm gonna do exactly yet. But... you've gotta start somewhere, right?"
He brought his hands to his forehead, leaning down to wipe at his face.
There was still no sound from behind him.
After a good long minute of silence, he pushed himself to his feet, tiles cold against his bare toes. "I know it's not fair of me to ask you to do this, so I'll understand if I never see you again." His eyes darkened. "...but I also know that you have nowhere else to go." His voice lowered. "And I can give you a chance to avenge all of them. Your parents. Your family. Taichi."
It was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.
Sakamoto felt the hem of his hospital gown flutter in the stillness of the room.
"So just think about it."
Without turning around, he headed for the door, letting it shut behind him with a dull click.
Joshima continued to sit silent and motionless on the bed, his shoulders hunched and the lighter making indents in his palms. He heard Sakamoto's almost noiseless footsteps wander away from the door, and felt the air around him settle, cool off, quiet to a dull froth.
He let his hands drop, fingers running over the surface of the lighter as his curls poked at the thick gauze around his head.
The air grew stagnant.
"I tried to protect you."
His voice was soft, barely whisping past his lips, bubbles reduced to thin smoke.
It was silent, the words permeating the room.
And then.
"I know."
It came from his left, a bodiless yet comforting voice that seeped into his skin.
"I gave him my eyes so he wouldn't touch you."
"I know."
"But I should have known it wouldn't-..." Joshima bit down on his lip, cutting off his sentence before the sob threatening to escape his throat could be released.
The silence returned as Joshima's body curled further towards the sheets, his bangs falling limp to either side of his face.
"What was it you told me once? That Tatsuya wouldn't want me lying in bed crying about him?"
There was a shudder from the side of the bed, and then the sensation of a weight on the mattress, crawling over to him. He felt two sets of fingers cup under his jaw, slowly lifting his face upwards.
"And now here you are moping about instead of getting out there and making a change."
Joshima pressed his lips together, the feeling of his throat tightening evidence to his tears even if they had no eyes to fall from.
"What can I do? I can't even see."
He felt a pair of lips meet his own, a strange mixture of chill and warmth that tingled against him and took his breath away.
"I'll be your eyes."
The chill spread through his cheeks and flushed into warmth as the fingers slid down the sides of his neck.
"I'll be your sight."
He was pushed backwards onto the bed, the feeling of the other's weight climbing on top of him, a strange, lightless weight that curled around him, warmed him, tingled against his skin as the fingers crawled downwards and he felt his hospital gown slide up above his hips.
"We can still be together."
Joshima let out a murmur, head angling upwards as the other's lips pressed against his neck, strange numbing pecks that lit his nerves on fire. He felt his legs get pushed open, and then that same weight was between his thighs, all flush against him and fuzzy, soft, heat spreading through his skin.
"Taichi..."
Those same lips pressed against his again, and he felt the other boy smile against him in a way his eyes could never have perceived.
"I'll never leave you alone again."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
By the time Joshima left the hospital over a week later, his hair had grown in almost completely white.
No one came to see him.
No one came to pick him up.
He stood in the lobby in a pair of clothes donated to him by one of the nurses who'd said he reminded her of her youngest son, colorless curls matching the soft white of the bandage wrapped around his head.
"Shigeru, here, let me help you fill out the last of the forms, ok?" The friendly, slightly weighty sound of the nurse's voice from the other side of the counter reached his ears, and he heard a clipboard slide across the plastic tile.
He shook his head serenely, bangs lilting back and forth with the movement. "I'll be fine." He curled a lock of hair behind his ear and took the offered clipboard and pen, walking slowly, but without hitch, over to the nearby plastic chairs before seating himself on the smooth surface. The nurse stuttered after him, the sound of her own chair squeaking across the floor as she started to her feet, but then she was quiet, no doubt watching him from across the desk as his fingers wrapped around the pen and began filling in the blanks that dotted the page.
When he walked back over with the completed forms, she accepted them with a strange silence. He tried to imagine what her eyes looked like, the expression on her face, how she'd done up her hair.
"Is there anything else?"
"The bulk of your bills were handled by the university since your tuition plan included enrollment into the university-sponsored insurance policy. The only thing that wasn't covered was taken care of by a Sakamoto Masayuki. He left three days ago." There was the sound of paper rustling and then what felt like a notecard was pressed between his fingers. "He said to give you this when he left."
Joshima looked down at the notecard without seeing it.
Then he calmly returned the nurse's gaze with a smile.
"Thank you very much, Angie."
He cocked his head to the side, the tiniest of bubbles spilling from between his lips as his white curls bounced aside his ears.
And then he walked away towards the door, Angie once again stuttering out a stilted "don't you want me to-?" before her voice squeezed shut inside her throat and her eyes followed him out the building.
The chill of the autumn breeze bit into his chest as he stepped outside, lips tingling from the cold. As he walked towards the nearby bus stop, glancing idly down at the note card in his hand, he felt Taichi's chin come down on his shoulder.
A few hours later, he arrived at the address written on the card-a small, run-down split-level on the outskirts of town.
Sakamoto welcomed him at the door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
2 Years Later
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The sound of glass cracking, crunching, tables being slammed around, and shelves crashing to the ground was growing louder, the door blocking off the main dining area from the entryway doing little to dull the sound of the chaos trapped within. The two men hiding by the register winced at every crash, the portly one on the left snapping up so fast he cracked his head on the desk they were hiding beneath.
"There goes the Aunt Kayla Bell's good china."
The other man cuffed the side of his head. "You're worried about the china? Lily's trapped in there with that thing!" He pulled himself up to peep over the side of the desk, instinctively ducking as the door to the dining room bumped and rattled with each thud from the other side.
"Then go in there and get her!
"And get killed?! What in Sam Hill are you thinkin', Edson?"
Edson brought his hands to his ears after an exceptionally loud crash resounded through the building. He squeezed his eyes shut until it was over, then glanced up at the other man. "Well, then what're we gonna do? Our whole restaurant's gonna be torn to shreds at this rate!"
Armin ducked back down under the desk. "Don't worry. I've already called him."
Edson's eyes widened, and he leaped forward to grab the collar of Armin's shirt.
"Are you crazy? That man is a maniac! You can't let him in here!" He began shaking Armin's shoulders until the other man finally shoved him away.
"What do you want me to do?! Let the restaurant fall apart? We've already got ourselves a maniac-the one breaking our dishes and holding Lily hostage!"
"B-b-b-but the Rev, is, he's-"
The front entrance slammed open.
Edson gasped and nearly wet himself. Armin winced and brought an arm up to shield his eyes.
"Somebody called about some polter-problems?"
The man's boot were the first thing visible, sliding across the floor with heavy clunks as he sauntered into the room. There was a clink and a clank as the rosary around his neck bounced against the steel buttons of his jacket. He shouldered his gun on his shoulder, the barrel of it wider than his arm and gleaming white silver, a strange shape, more like a giant rusted sword with thin bandage-like coverings fluttering down from the handle. As he stepped inside, he pushed the brim of his brown cowboy hat up above his eyes so he could see better, the two men under the desk gazing up at him with a mixture of terror and awe.
"R-...R-R-Reverend!" Armin pushed himself to his feet, still a whole head shorter than Sakamoto even with his shoulders thrown back and his toes pushing him just slightly higher. "W-we're glad you came! We have a... a big problem!"
"Hmmm?" Sakamoto moved the toothpick in his mouth to the other side, ruminating on the situation as his eyes roved the premises.
There were footsteps from behind them as a second figure came bounding in the door, white curls bouncing about the long red cloth tied around his eyes and drifting nearly to the floor. He slid to a halt beside Sakamoto, holding up an over-sized scythe with a toothy grin.
"Where's the ghosty?"
Armin screamed and almost fainted, taking an immediate step backwards to keep his balance against the side of the desk. He brought a shaky hand up and simply pointed at the door to the dining area. "Th-... there! In there!"
Five seconds later, the inner door was kicked open to reveal a nearly demolished dining room, tables toppled over, dishes and glassware in pieces all over the floor, and shelves and counters smashed to smithereens. A young blonde girl with a long ponytail gasped at the sound of the door and spun around. A gentleman dressed as a waiter and standing on top of one of the nearby tables whirled around, eyes crazed. He immediately leapt down and grabbed the girl, hand holding a sharpened blade of glass to her throat.
"You take one more step and I'll kill her! I will!"
Sakamoto appeared not to have heard, walking all the way into the room before letting the barrel of his gun thump to the floor. His eyes scanned the room casually as Joshima followed behind, twig-like legs lost in the folds of his giant brown boots and strange amalgamation of tanned leather over white cloth gracing his torso.
The waiter snarled at them, arm with the blade of glass visibly shaking.
Sakamoto spit out his toothpick.
Then calmly raised his gun.
The waiter panicked, dropping the glass and instead, pulling the girl close to him, positioning her between him and the gun.
"There! You can't shoot now! You wouldn't shoot an innocent little girl, would you? Huh?! Just try and shoot me now!"
Sakamoto's expression didn't change.
He cocked the gun.
The waiter's eyes widened, pupils tiny in their sockets. "Y-... you're bluffing! You wouldn't shoot her!"
Sakamoto narrowed one of his eyes, tilting his head as he took aim. "This might hurt, little lady..."
"Y-... you're crazy!" The waiter jerked back, then simply smiled. "Fine! I'd like to see you try shooting me now!" He started spasming, his hands to his head as his eyes rolled back in his skull. A few moments later, he crumpled to the ground like a puppet who'd had his strings cut, hitting the floor with a heavy thump.
Sakamoto lowered his gun lazily, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling before roving about the rest of the room. Joshima was on full-alert, head jerking back and forth as his lips pressed together in concentration.
Sakamoto's lips parted leisurely. "I'll have you know... this gun was made from the Lance of Longinus, soaked in holy water under the light of the full moon for seven days, and loaded with bullets melted from figures of Christ blessed by the Pope himself. It can hurt you. And it will."
Joshima scoffed beside him, gaze unwavering. "What did the full moon have anything to do with it?"
Sakamoto just smirked. "I added that for effect."
It was silent again. Joshima's nose was twitching.
And then.
"He says you'll have to find him first, and I quote, 'you fucking Bible pusher'."
"Well then, Shige. If you'd do me the honor."
Joshima's mouth curled up in a cat-like grin, canine poking out between his lips. "Third rafter from the right. Roughly three o'clock, er... half-past three."
Sakamoto's mouth split into a wide smile as he raised his gun towards the ceiling.
"May the power of Christ compel you. And all that shit."
He clicked his teeth together, then pulled the trigger.
Joshima covered his ears as the high-pitched scream echoed and shrieked through the room.
Sakamoto let Lily fall from his arms to land in front of the two men still hunched down in the entryway. He tipped his hat and re-shouldered his gun, starting for the door. Joshima jogged over to where the three on the ground simply stared and scrawled out something on a piece of paper before handing it over.
"We'll send you the bill."
Armin lifted his hand up as if to say something, but then stopped, the words caught in the back of his throat as Joshima gave a little laugh and spun around on his heels to follow Sakamoto out the door. The red cloth pulled tight around his eyes fluttered behind him as a tiny orb of light seemed to float just above his shoulder.
"I'm sorry."
Joshima was sitting up in his hospital bed, staring straight ahead of him from behind the gauze around his eyes as the blackened lighter sat innocently in his palm.
Sakamoto was in a hospital gown of his own, sitting down on the side of the bed as he rubbed at the thick bandage on his chest.
"It didn't work."
Joshima didn't reply. He seemed frozen, lips slightly parted and trembling, body so, so small in the folds of the white sheets.
"There... wasn't anything I could do."
The words spilled from Sakamoto's mouth without thinking. He couldn't think. If he thought, he'd have to relive it. If he thought, he wouldn't be able to finish building the black stone wall around his heart.
"But Cuttle's gone. For good." He brought a hand up to push his bangs out of his eyes, shoulder aching from the effort. "The whole building is."
Joshima curled both his hands around the lighter, the plastic no longer slick, but rough and grating against his skin. He brought it to his chest, gaze falling towards the bedsheets.
"I'm not going back. To campus." Sakamoto shook his head. "I don't think I'll... be able to go back for a while."
There was the sound of a rolling cart outside, and Sakamoto paused, glancing up at the door, but the nurse pushing it kept walking down the hallway, and soon the sound of it began to fade.
"I'm gonna put a stop to this." Sakamoto's eyes hardened, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "I'm not gonna let something like this happen again." The words seemed to echo off the walls, even as they barely whispered past his lips. "...but I don't think I can do it alone." He paused a second, then looked back to Joshima, who still hadn't moved, frozen in the middle of the sheets with his body curled around the lighter. "I want you to-..." His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. "...I need you to help me."
Joshima didn't respond. Didn't even raise his head. He continued to stare wordlessly at the sheets.
"I need your power. I know you can't-... I know you can't see them anymore..." Sakamoto unlaced and re-laced his fingers. "...but I know you can still hear them. And I know you can still feel them." He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. "And nothing I do, no matter how much I study, no matter how much I train, and no matter how much I have in my arsenal... it would never come close to what having your help could do for me." He realized his hands were clenched so tightly together that his arms were shaking, so he relaxed his shoulders with a deep breath. "I don't know what I'm gonna do exactly yet. But... you've gotta start somewhere, right?"
He brought his hands to his forehead, leaning down to wipe at his face.
There was still no sound from behind him.
After a good long minute of silence, he pushed himself to his feet, tiles cold against his bare toes. "I know it's not fair of me to ask you to do this, so I'll understand if I never see you again." His eyes darkened. "...but I also know that you have nowhere else to go." His voice lowered. "And I can give you a chance to avenge all of them. Your parents. Your family. Taichi."
It was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.
Sakamoto felt the hem of his hospital gown flutter in the stillness of the room.
"So just think about it."
Without turning around, he headed for the door, letting it shut behind him with a dull click.
Joshima continued to sit silent and motionless on the bed, his shoulders hunched and the lighter making indents in his palms. He heard Sakamoto's almost noiseless footsteps wander away from the door, and felt the air around him settle, cool off, quiet to a dull froth.
He let his hands drop, fingers running over the surface of the lighter as his curls poked at the thick gauze around his head.
The air grew stagnant.
"I tried to protect you."
His voice was soft, barely whisping past his lips, bubbles reduced to thin smoke.
It was silent, the words permeating the room.
And then.
"I know."
It came from his left, a bodiless yet comforting voice that seeped into his skin.
"I gave him my eyes so he wouldn't touch you."
"I know."
"But I should have known it wouldn't-..." Joshima bit down on his lip, cutting off his sentence before the sob threatening to escape his throat could be released.
The silence returned as Joshima's body curled further towards the sheets, his bangs falling limp to either side of his face.
"What was it you told me once? That Tatsuya wouldn't want me lying in bed crying about him?"
There was a shudder from the side of the bed, and then the sensation of a weight on the mattress, crawling over to him. He felt two sets of fingers cup under his jaw, slowly lifting his face upwards.
"And now here you are moping about instead of getting out there and making a change."
Joshima pressed his lips together, the feeling of his throat tightening evidence to his tears even if they had no eyes to fall from.
"What can I do? I can't even see."
He felt a pair of lips meet his own, a strange mixture of chill and warmth that tingled against him and took his breath away.
"I'll be your eyes."
The chill spread through his cheeks and flushed into warmth as the fingers slid down the sides of his neck.
"I'll be your sight."
He was pushed backwards onto the bed, the feeling of the other's weight climbing on top of him, a strange, lightless weight that curled around him, warmed him, tingled against his skin as the fingers crawled downwards and he felt his hospital gown slide up above his hips.
"We can still be together."
Joshima let out a murmur, head angling upwards as the other's lips pressed against his neck, strange numbing pecks that lit his nerves on fire. He felt his legs get pushed open, and then that same weight was between his thighs, all flush against him and fuzzy, soft, heat spreading through his skin.
"Taichi..."
Those same lips pressed against his again, and he felt the other boy smile against him in a way his eyes could never have perceived.
"I'll never leave you alone again."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
By the time Joshima left the hospital over a week later, his hair had grown in almost completely white.
No one came to see him.
No one came to pick him up.
He stood in the lobby in a pair of clothes donated to him by one of the nurses who'd said he reminded her of her youngest son, colorless curls matching the soft white of the bandage wrapped around his head.
"Shigeru, here, let me help you fill out the last of the forms, ok?" The friendly, slightly weighty sound of the nurse's voice from the other side of the counter reached his ears, and he heard a clipboard slide across the plastic tile.
He shook his head serenely, bangs lilting back and forth with the movement. "I'll be fine." He curled a lock of hair behind his ear and took the offered clipboard and pen, walking slowly, but without hitch, over to the nearby plastic chairs before seating himself on the smooth surface. The nurse stuttered after him, the sound of her own chair squeaking across the floor as she started to her feet, but then she was quiet, no doubt watching him from across the desk as his fingers wrapped around the pen and began filling in the blanks that dotted the page.
When he walked back over with the completed forms, she accepted them with a strange silence. He tried to imagine what her eyes looked like, the expression on her face, how she'd done up her hair.
"Is there anything else?"
"The bulk of your bills were handled by the university since your tuition plan included enrollment into the university-sponsored insurance policy. The only thing that wasn't covered was taken care of by a Sakamoto Masayuki. He left three days ago." There was the sound of paper rustling and then what felt like a notecard was pressed between his fingers. "He said to give you this when he left."
Joshima looked down at the notecard without seeing it.
Then he calmly returned the nurse's gaze with a smile.
"Thank you very much, Angie."
He cocked his head to the side, the tiniest of bubbles spilling from between his lips as his white curls bounced aside his ears.
And then he walked away towards the door, Angie once again stuttering out a stilted "don't you want me to-?" before her voice squeezed shut inside her throat and her eyes followed him out the building.
The chill of the autumn breeze bit into his chest as he stepped outside, lips tingling from the cold. As he walked towards the nearby bus stop, glancing idly down at the note card in his hand, he felt Taichi's chin come down on his shoulder.
A few hours later, he arrived at the address written on the card-a small, run-down split-level on the outskirts of town.
Sakamoto welcomed him at the door.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
2 Years Later
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The sound of glass cracking, crunching, tables being slammed around, and shelves crashing to the ground was growing louder, the door blocking off the main dining area from the entryway doing little to dull the sound of the chaos trapped within. The two men hiding by the register winced at every crash, the portly one on the left snapping up so fast he cracked his head on the desk they were hiding beneath.
"There goes the Aunt Kayla Bell's good china."
The other man cuffed the side of his head. "You're worried about the china? Lily's trapped in there with that thing!" He pulled himself up to peep over the side of the desk, instinctively ducking as the door to the dining room bumped and rattled with each thud from the other side.
"Then go in there and get her!
"And get killed?! What in Sam Hill are you thinkin', Edson?"
Edson brought his hands to his ears after an exceptionally loud crash resounded through the building. He squeezed his eyes shut until it was over, then glanced up at the other man. "Well, then what're we gonna do? Our whole restaurant's gonna be torn to shreds at this rate!"
Armin ducked back down under the desk. "Don't worry. I've already called him."
Edson's eyes widened, and he leaped forward to grab the collar of Armin's shirt.
"Are you crazy? That man is a maniac! You can't let him in here!" He began shaking Armin's shoulders until the other man finally shoved him away.
"What do you want me to do?! Let the restaurant fall apart? We've already got ourselves a maniac-the one breaking our dishes and holding Lily hostage!"
"B-b-b-but the Rev, is, he's-"
The front entrance slammed open.
Edson gasped and nearly wet himself. Armin winced and brought an arm up to shield his eyes.
"Somebody called about some polter-problems?"
The man's boot were the first thing visible, sliding across the floor with heavy clunks as he sauntered into the room. There was a clink and a clank as the rosary around his neck bounced against the steel buttons of his jacket. He shouldered his gun on his shoulder, the barrel of it wider than his arm and gleaming white silver, a strange shape, more like a giant rusted sword with thin bandage-like coverings fluttering down from the handle. As he stepped inside, he pushed the brim of his brown cowboy hat up above his eyes so he could see better, the two men under the desk gazing up at him with a mixture of terror and awe.
"R-...R-R-Reverend!" Armin pushed himself to his feet, still a whole head shorter than Sakamoto even with his shoulders thrown back and his toes pushing him just slightly higher. "W-we're glad you came! We have a... a big problem!"
"Hmmm?" Sakamoto moved the toothpick in his mouth to the other side, ruminating on the situation as his eyes roved the premises.
There were footsteps from behind them as a second figure came bounding in the door, white curls bouncing about the long red cloth tied around his eyes and drifting nearly to the floor. He slid to a halt beside Sakamoto, holding up an over-sized scythe with a toothy grin.
"Where's the ghosty?"
Armin screamed and almost fainted, taking an immediate step backwards to keep his balance against the side of the desk. He brought a shaky hand up and simply pointed at the door to the dining area. "Th-... there! In there!"
Five seconds later, the inner door was kicked open to reveal a nearly demolished dining room, tables toppled over, dishes and glassware in pieces all over the floor, and shelves and counters smashed to smithereens. A young blonde girl with a long ponytail gasped at the sound of the door and spun around. A gentleman dressed as a waiter and standing on top of one of the nearby tables whirled around, eyes crazed. He immediately leapt down and grabbed the girl, hand holding a sharpened blade of glass to her throat.
"You take one more step and I'll kill her! I will!"
Sakamoto appeared not to have heard, walking all the way into the room before letting the barrel of his gun thump to the floor. His eyes scanned the room casually as Joshima followed behind, twig-like legs lost in the folds of his giant brown boots and strange amalgamation of tanned leather over white cloth gracing his torso.
The waiter snarled at them, arm with the blade of glass visibly shaking.
Sakamoto spit out his toothpick.
Then calmly raised his gun.
The waiter panicked, dropping the glass and instead, pulling the girl close to him, positioning her between him and the gun.
"There! You can't shoot now! You wouldn't shoot an innocent little girl, would you? Huh?! Just try and shoot me now!"
Sakamoto's expression didn't change.
He cocked the gun.
The waiter's eyes widened, pupils tiny in their sockets. "Y-... you're bluffing! You wouldn't shoot her!"
Sakamoto narrowed one of his eyes, tilting his head as he took aim. "This might hurt, little lady..."
"Y-... you're crazy!" The waiter jerked back, then simply smiled. "Fine! I'd like to see you try shooting me now!" He started spasming, his hands to his head as his eyes rolled back in his skull. A few moments later, he crumpled to the ground like a puppet who'd had his strings cut, hitting the floor with a heavy thump.
Sakamoto lowered his gun lazily, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling before roving about the rest of the room. Joshima was on full-alert, head jerking back and forth as his lips pressed together in concentration.
Sakamoto's lips parted leisurely. "I'll have you know... this gun was made from the Lance of Longinus, soaked in holy water under the light of the full moon for seven days, and loaded with bullets melted from figures of Christ blessed by the Pope himself. It can hurt you. And it will."
Joshima scoffed beside him, gaze unwavering. "What did the full moon have anything to do with it?"
Sakamoto just smirked. "I added that for effect."
It was silent again. Joshima's nose was twitching.
And then.
"He says you'll have to find him first, and I quote, 'you fucking Bible pusher'."
"Well then, Shige. If you'd do me the honor."
Joshima's mouth curled up in a cat-like grin, canine poking out between his lips. "Third rafter from the right. Roughly three o'clock, er... half-past three."
Sakamoto's mouth split into a wide smile as he raised his gun towards the ceiling.
"May the power of Christ compel you. And all that shit."
He clicked his teeth together, then pulled the trigger.
Joshima covered his ears as the high-pitched scream echoed and shrieked through the room.
Sakamoto let Lily fall from his arms to land in front of the two men still hunched down in the entryway. He tipped his hat and re-shouldered his gun, starting for the door. Joshima jogged over to where the three on the ground simply stared and scrawled out something on a piece of paper before handing it over.
"We'll send you the bill."
Armin lifted his hand up as if to say something, but then stopped, the words caught in the back of his throat as Joshima gave a little laugh and spun around on his heels to follow Sakamoto out the door. The red cloth pulled tight around his eyes fluttered behind him as a tiny orb of light seemed to float just above his shoulder.