[28th October] [SD/TeniPuri] -- Mafia Gang Wars: Veni, Vidi, Vici
Title: Mafia Gang Wars
Day/Theme: 28th October -- Miss Machine
Series: SlamDunk | Prince of tennis
Character/Pairing: ..All [AU, yakuza style.]
Rating: PG15 (for use of language)
Authors: rei_kurasaki, hemlocke and yasminm
Notes: And there goes our logic. Seventh in a series: 01. An alliance | 02. Adjustments | 03. Wheels in motion | 04. An Interlude | 05. Lines in the sand | 06. One flew east, one flew west
“Yukimura, Yanagi’s latest info has it that Yamabuki’s on their way to Ryonan.” Niou informed the Rikkai leader.
“Really?”
“Yes. I presume they’re spooked after what we did to Fudomine and Shoyo.” Niou sneered. “These Kantoh and Kanagawa gangs are real wimps. Can’t they fight alone?”
“But it’s good that they did that.” Yukimura murmured as he cupped his chin in his hands. “They’ll be smaller then and easier to handle.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sanada asked.
“They’ve given us the perfect opportunity for us to launch a two-pronged attack before they join up.”
Sanada gave their leader a dubious look. “You want to split our forces?”
Yukimura shrugged nonchalantly, delicate shoulders rolling elegantly, a smile playing at his lips. “We’re more than good enough for them. You know what they say. Divide and conquer.”
--
Sendoh Akira was pretty smart, sure he wasn’t as intelligent as Hikoichi or as street-smart as Koshino, but in the common sense department he could hold his own pretty well. And honestly, it didn’t take a lot to figure who did it once rumors filtered in that a sniper had taken down seven Kainan members yesterday, seven. No shit, he was on a rampage all right, Sendoh didn’t know if he should be so amused. Still…Sendoh took out his cell-phone and dialed a familiar number.
“...”
“Don’t I get a “hello” from you?”
“What do you want?”
“Nice hit yesterday.”
“…”
“Seven? You must’ve been on a rampage, should I be touched?” Sendoh laughed while the breathing on the other end remained even, just as he expected it to be.
“Don’t get me wrong,” The soft monotonous voice filtered in through the phone, “that wasn’t revenge.”
“Oh? What was it then Kitsune?”
“A warning.”
“That I’m marked as yours to kill?” It really was amusing how attached he was the voice on the other line, he was so different, a real puzzle indeed. He would take great fun in dissecting the pieces individually.
“Of course.”
“Hm~m. Should I be worried?”
“That’s none of my business.”
“Ah but my dear Kitsune, it is.”
“Suit yourself then.”
“You wound me~”
A soft snort and Sendoh burst into laughter; he really was amusing indeed.
“Either way,” Sendoh paused to pick a piece of lint off his suit, “You shouldn’t be advertising yourself so openly, what would I do if you got injured?”
“…”
“Naa Kitsune?”
“…”
“Don’t die.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Click.
--
“Tensai in the-” Sakuragi stopped mid-song and gaped at the figure sleeping on the sofa in front of him.
“Came back last night,” Mitsui offered behind him, an array of guns laid out cleanly in front of him, “you know, in case you were wondering.”
“HAH! I thought he had ran off for good! BWAHAHAHA!”
“Don’t be stupid Hanamichi,” Miyagi appeared him silently, arms full with explosives and flashed him a sly smile, “although that might be a stretch for you.”
“EH? WHAT DID YOU SAY RYO-CHIN?”
“…Shut up idiot,” Rukawa got up blearily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “you’re too damn loud.”
“Who’s the idiot huh?!”
“Obviously you.”
“Oi Rukawa,” Mitsui looked up from his guns and paused in his check, “you finally finished in your business huh?”
“Yeah, what business did you have anyway?” Miyagi stopped working for a moment, slender fingers hovering over his latest creation, “Dude, you were gone for four days man.”
“Personal.”
“What personal?”
“Nothing that you need to know about.”
“Eh? We’re your seniors, dammit, we deserve to know!”
“You ran away to have a secret rendezvous with some pretty girl didn’t you? Bwahahaha! The genius knows all and sees all!”
“Idiot.”
--
Sendoh set his jaw grimly as he gathered his men back to him. He spared a glance for his fallen leader and grimaced as he noticed the spreading stain on the right side of Uozumi’s chest. He was no longer conscious.
“Uekusa, call an ambulance and take Uozumi away. Fukuda - go with him.”
Fukuda shook his head, clearly intending to stay on despite his injuries. Sendoh quickly glanced over at Fukuda, noting with alarm the soaked makeshift tourniquet Fukuda had placed over his left leg.
“Fukuda, leave! Don’t be an ass! You’ll bleed to death if you stay here.”
Fukuda shook his head, “You need me.”
“I have Koshino already. YOU need the hospital.”
Fukuda ignored Sendoh’s orders and limped painfully to rejoin Ryonan’s ranks. Sendoh swore in frustration, his legendary long fuse finally snapping under the stress.
“Fuck it, Fukuda, don’t you go stubborn on me. What do I tell Jin if you go down here?”
Fukuda’s eyes widened, “Sendoh, you…”
Sendoh waved his gun at Fukuda in a dismissive gesture, wincing as he jarred his old injury, “Now go!”
Uekusa nodded, motioning for Fukuda to follow him. Fukuda cursed under his breath but finally obeyed Sendoh’s instructions, limping painfully behind Uekusa. They left the area, crouching low as Uekusa dragged Uozumi’s motionless body, leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
Sendoh released the old magazine from his gun and inserted a new one, scowling as he reassessed the situation on their side. Ikegami and Koshino came up to flank their new leader.
“Any word from Yamabuki?”
Koshino shook his head, “Tried calling Touji - he’s not responding.”
“You think Rikkai’s occupying their time too?”
Koshino nodded, “Yeah. These are just the lackeys we’re seeing.”
Sendoh snorted, “That’s because the big names are hiding. But they’re around, definitely. Rikkai can do this only if they’ve split up their leadership.”
“What do we do then?”
“Ikegami - take that group of men with you. I want you to comb each building for any Rikkai men.”
”What about prisoners?”
Sendoh paused, his blue eyes shadowed with thought, “It’d be useful. But not necessary.”
Ikegami nodded and left with his squad.
Sendoh gestured to the rest of his men, “As for the rest of you, spread out over the area and cover the ground. Make sure they don’t come near our headquarters.”
After that, Sendoh turned to his best friend, “Koshino - do you think if I managed to draw him out, you could take down their sniper?”
Koshino gave a bloodthirsty grin, “Whaddaya think?”
Sendoh smiled slowly, feeling the adrenaline thrum in his veins, “Let’s go then.”
--
Rikkai soon found to their dismay that Ryonan weathered Uozumi’s loss well. Contrary to their expectations, Sendoh Akira rose brilliantly to the occasion as he rallied his men around him.
In another stunning display of shrewd tactics, Sendoh and Koshino working in tandem saw Rikkai witness the death their much-vaunted sniper as he plunged towards the ground. Their plans in disarray, Rikkai were forced to swallow their pride and withdraw for a strategic retreat.
On their end, Yamabuki too managed to overcome Rikkai’s forces and made their way to the Ryonan headquarters, where they found a victorious Sendoh Akira holding court.
Sengoku raised an eyebrow at the conspicuous absence of Big Jun but held his peace.
“Yo, Sendoh.”
Sendoh grinned tiredly as he held out a friendly hand to Sengoku.
“Sengoku.”
Sengoku took a look around at the surviving Ryonan men; all nursing various injuries but there was no mistaking the air of triumph that permeated the atmosphere.
“Looks like you didn’t need our help after all.”
Sendoh chuckled,. “Aaa. And you didn’t need ours either.”
Sengoku laughed, amazed at Sendoh’s continued good humour, “What can I say? I’m just lucky.”
--
Yanagi Renji was on his second cup of coffee when Inui Sadaharu appeared silently beside him. That was no coincidence, because Yanagi knew it wasn’t a coincidence, there was no such thing as coincidence, there were only facts, figures and equations. He didn’t protest though when Inui slide into the uncomfortable metal chair opposite him, merely pick up his mug and take a sip.
“Hm. Arabian coffee, roasted with butter. Your tastes are hard to change Renji.”
A waiter came by and placed a white cup down in front of Inui with a “please enjoy your drink sir” and disappeared back into the café.
“And you Sadaharu? Still so very much attached to Italian coffee, with as less dilution as possible.”
Inui raised his cup politely, inclining his head slightly, causing sunlight to bounce off black-rimmed glasses.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“There is a 72.95% chance that I was here merely for the coffee Renji,” Almond-shaped eyes looked up at him briefly before they were shielded again, the reflective sunlight forming an opaque barrier.
“And then again, there is a 87.23% chance that you were here because I was here, Sadaharu.”
Inui sipped his coffee and picked up the small almond biscuit by the side of the saucer, a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Rest assured Renji, that today’s meeting was fully coincidental.”
And they both knew that there was no such thing as coincidental, still Yanagi sat opposite his mortal enemy, long legs crossed elegantly, one hand curled around the handle of his coffee; data specialists both on the opposing sides. They were friends once, a long time ago, but the past was past and now was now. Now he was with Rikkai and now Sadaharu was with Seigaku, and for some odd reason that fact left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
“It looks like it’s going to rain later,” Yanagi murmured as he looked up, small grey clouds dotting the sky. Subtext was one thing they both were good at, it was handy, very handy, to be able to dance around a subject without the actual words. They had made a living out of it, they were experts at it. So far no one could understand his subtext, not even Akaya, not even Yukimura, no one but Sadaharu.
Rikkai won’t give up.
“Rain is always good.”
Don’t underestimate us Renji.
“Although not always.”
I wouldn’t dare Sadaharu.
“”Rain could offer us cool weather.”
I know you won’t.
“The temperature is cool enough as it is.”
Is that a warning?
Inui glanced at his rapidly emptying cup and checked his watch; the sky was darkening quickly and judging from the cool air that blew across their cheeks, rain was definitely approaching.
“I apologize for my rudeness but I’ll have to take my leave now Renji; I think Kaidoh has been waiting for me long enough.”
“Aah. Akaya will be wondering where I’ve been.”
The two data specialist got up, bowing slightly to each other, each knowing full well that this could be the last time they see the other alive, and parted in the opposite directions just as the first raindrop fell and splattered onto the cold grey pavement.
--
The call from Rikkai had been brief and curt. The amount deposited into her account was anything but -- and for assignment she was given, Hanamura was willing to overlook the shortfall in courtesy.
Besides, there were other matters to consider.
Hanamura's hand strayed to her gun. The car-park of her apartment building was quiet and deserted at this time of the night, the hum of its fluorescent lights echoing faintly off metal and concrete. No shadows.
She distrusted her surroundings immediately.
"Very good," said a familiar voice.
Hanamura unclenched her jaw. "I was taught by someone who was the best."
Ryuzaki Sumire emerged like a bad dream, clad in priestly black, her hair tied high in a ponytail. Gone was the grandmotherly illusion, the sharp edges of a professional taking its place.
"I was wondering when you'd come to see me," Hanamura said, the tips of her fingers brushing the handle of her gun. "It would be rude of me to presume, but let's skip to the part where you proclaim your allegiance to Seigaku."
"You knew where my loyalty lies from the beginning," Ryuzaki said. She didn't flinch at Hanamura's words, but her expression could have been hewn from stone.
"That's not the point, Ryuzaki-sensei." Hanamura could hear her voice rising in pitch, and she took a deep breath. Calm down, she told herself.
"You've always, always broken the first rule you taught me. Don't get involved when it's personal. You said, independent agents should be just that, free from all ties. People like us don't have the luxury of caring about more than what our clients pay us, remember?"
For the first time, Ryuzaki looked her age: tired, worn down from decades of blood.
"I've been wrong before," she said, so softly that its echoes sounded like whispers.
"Admitting you make mistakes doesn't buy you the damn high horse." Bitter and unforgiving, Hanamura stared at her. "Why should you be the one who could walk away and come back whenever you feel like it? Why should you be the exception?"
"Because I make it happen, Aoi."
"But you didn't care to make it happen to me, did you?" Hanamura drew out her gun. "Enough talk. You're here for a reason."
Ryuzaki's gaze settled into calm stillness, a scroll painting brought to life.
"Yes, so I did."
Two shots rang out, exploding in echoes.
--
If it had been any other person, Tezuka would have suspected them of stalking him and put bullet through their head. He was, however, beginning to expect Kogure to show up in the most unexpected of places -- including the bar he chose on that particular night on a whim, or what passed as a whim for Tezuka Kunimitsu.
"Water? Not your usual poison, I take it," he said to the back of Kogure's head.
Kogure threw him an amused smile over a shoulder, "It's an invitation for someone to buy me a drink, if you must know."
"If I'd known, I would have sent in some of my more desperate men."
Someone stirred at the end of the bar -- a blue-eyed, dark-haired man with a scar on his chin, staring at Kogure as if he'd been personally betrayed. Mitsui of Shohoku, Tezuka remembered.
Kogure ignored him, "I'm expensive. How well do you pay your men?"
"Well enough," Tezuka took the empty seat next to Kogure, despite his misgivings. The bartender took his order without comment: two glasses of the house red.
Kogure smiled at him, "How's your hand?"
"Healing," Tezuka didn't need to ask how Kogure was doing -- the proof was in the faint red line on his brow. "I'm surprised Akagi-san let you run loose at this time."
"I'm not chained to Akagi, Tezuka-san. I may occasionally share his bed, but I'm his second-in-command, not his lover or his catamite."
Tezuka shot him a sharp look, but Kogure met it with a raised, quizzical eyebrow.
"That was what you wanted to know, wasn't it?"
"Stop playing games, Kogure-san."
"It's only a game if I'm leading you on."
Kogure picked up one of the glasses of wine, the bartender having returned and gone unnoticed.
"I don't have any underhanded reason for flirting with you, Tezuka-san. I want to seduce you because I like you. If I say, oh, I'm in love with you and won't you please bring me to Seigaku... well, that will be how you know I have plans to sell you down the river. It's an easy lie to spot, because the only man in this world who has me is Akagi Takenori."
"... I see."
"I thought you would," Kogure put down the glass after a sip. "Mn, not up to standards. Would you care for a drink elsewhere, Tezuka-san?"
Tezuka thought he knew what he was saying yes to. He let himself be persuaded to "stop by" at Kogure's apartment, let Kogure undress him with gentle fingers and teeth, let Kogure kneel and mouth his cock.
Abstract thought, it proved later, could never come close with the warm pliancy of Kogure's body under him and the demanding pain of Kogure's nails scratching his back. As for the contrast in the texture of his leather belt and the skin of Kogure's wrists, pinned tight to the bed, and the fragile arch of Kogure's neck -- he had never anticipated the pleasure at all.
Day/Theme: 28th October -- Miss Machine
Series: SlamDunk | Prince of tennis
Character/Pairing: ..All [AU, yakuza style.]
Rating: PG15 (for use of language)
Authors: rei_kurasaki, hemlocke and yasminm
Notes: And there goes our logic. Seventh in a series: 01. An alliance | 02. Adjustments | 03. Wheels in motion | 04. An Interlude | 05. Lines in the sand | 06. One flew east, one flew west
“Yukimura, Yanagi’s latest info has it that Yamabuki’s on their way to Ryonan.” Niou informed the Rikkai leader.
“Really?”
“Yes. I presume they’re spooked after what we did to Fudomine and Shoyo.” Niou sneered. “These Kantoh and Kanagawa gangs are real wimps. Can’t they fight alone?”
“But it’s good that they did that.” Yukimura murmured as he cupped his chin in his hands. “They’ll be smaller then and easier to handle.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sanada asked.
“They’ve given us the perfect opportunity for us to launch a two-pronged attack before they join up.”
Sanada gave their leader a dubious look. “You want to split our forces?”
Yukimura shrugged nonchalantly, delicate shoulders rolling elegantly, a smile playing at his lips. “We’re more than good enough for them. You know what they say. Divide and conquer.”
--
Sendoh Akira was pretty smart, sure he wasn’t as intelligent as Hikoichi or as street-smart as Koshino, but in the common sense department he could hold his own pretty well. And honestly, it didn’t take a lot to figure who did it once rumors filtered in that a sniper had taken down seven Kainan members yesterday, seven. No shit, he was on a rampage all right, Sendoh didn’t know if he should be so amused. Still…Sendoh took out his cell-phone and dialed a familiar number.
“...”
“Don’t I get a “hello” from you?”
“What do you want?”
“Nice hit yesterday.”
“…”
“Seven? You must’ve been on a rampage, should I be touched?” Sendoh laughed while the breathing on the other end remained even, just as he expected it to be.
“Don’t get me wrong,” The soft monotonous voice filtered in through the phone, “that wasn’t revenge.”
“Oh? What was it then Kitsune?”
“A warning.”
“That I’m marked as yours to kill?” It really was amusing how attached he was the voice on the other line, he was so different, a real puzzle indeed. He would take great fun in dissecting the pieces individually.
“Of course.”
“Hm~m. Should I be worried?”
“That’s none of my business.”
“Ah but my dear Kitsune, it is.”
“Suit yourself then.”
“You wound me~”
A soft snort and Sendoh burst into laughter; he really was amusing indeed.
“Either way,” Sendoh paused to pick a piece of lint off his suit, “You shouldn’t be advertising yourself so openly, what would I do if you got injured?”
“…”
“Naa Kitsune?”
“…”
“Don’t die.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Click.
--
“Tensai in the-” Sakuragi stopped mid-song and gaped at the figure sleeping on the sofa in front of him.
“Came back last night,” Mitsui offered behind him, an array of guns laid out cleanly in front of him, “you know, in case you were wondering.”
“HAH! I thought he had ran off for good! BWAHAHAHA!”
“Don’t be stupid Hanamichi,” Miyagi appeared him silently, arms full with explosives and flashed him a sly smile, “although that might be a stretch for you.”
“EH? WHAT DID YOU SAY RYO-CHIN?”
“…Shut up idiot,” Rukawa got up blearily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “you’re too damn loud.”
“Who’s the idiot huh?!”
“Obviously you.”
“Oi Rukawa,” Mitsui looked up from his guns and paused in his check, “you finally finished in your business huh?”
“Yeah, what business did you have anyway?” Miyagi stopped working for a moment, slender fingers hovering over his latest creation, “Dude, you were gone for four days man.”
“Personal.”
“What personal?”
“Nothing that you need to know about.”
“Eh? We’re your seniors, dammit, we deserve to know!”
“You ran away to have a secret rendezvous with some pretty girl didn’t you? Bwahahaha! The genius knows all and sees all!”
“Idiot.”
--
Sendoh set his jaw grimly as he gathered his men back to him. He spared a glance for his fallen leader and grimaced as he noticed the spreading stain on the right side of Uozumi’s chest. He was no longer conscious.
“Uekusa, call an ambulance and take Uozumi away. Fukuda - go with him.”
Fukuda shook his head, clearly intending to stay on despite his injuries. Sendoh quickly glanced over at Fukuda, noting with alarm the soaked makeshift tourniquet Fukuda had placed over his left leg.
“Fukuda, leave! Don’t be an ass! You’ll bleed to death if you stay here.”
Fukuda shook his head, “You need me.”
“I have Koshino already. YOU need the hospital.”
Fukuda ignored Sendoh’s orders and limped painfully to rejoin Ryonan’s ranks. Sendoh swore in frustration, his legendary long fuse finally snapping under the stress.
“Fuck it, Fukuda, don’t you go stubborn on me. What do I tell Jin if you go down here?”
Fukuda’s eyes widened, “Sendoh, you…”
Sendoh waved his gun at Fukuda in a dismissive gesture, wincing as he jarred his old injury, “Now go!”
Uekusa nodded, motioning for Fukuda to follow him. Fukuda cursed under his breath but finally obeyed Sendoh’s instructions, limping painfully behind Uekusa. They left the area, crouching low as Uekusa dragged Uozumi’s motionless body, leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
Sendoh released the old magazine from his gun and inserted a new one, scowling as he reassessed the situation on their side. Ikegami and Koshino came up to flank their new leader.
“Any word from Yamabuki?”
Koshino shook his head, “Tried calling Touji - he’s not responding.”
“You think Rikkai’s occupying their time too?”
Koshino nodded, “Yeah. These are just the lackeys we’re seeing.”
Sendoh snorted, “That’s because the big names are hiding. But they’re around, definitely. Rikkai can do this only if they’ve split up their leadership.”
“What do we do then?”
“Ikegami - take that group of men with you. I want you to comb each building for any Rikkai men.”
”What about prisoners?”
Sendoh paused, his blue eyes shadowed with thought, “It’d be useful. But not necessary.”
Ikegami nodded and left with his squad.
Sendoh gestured to the rest of his men, “As for the rest of you, spread out over the area and cover the ground. Make sure they don’t come near our headquarters.”
After that, Sendoh turned to his best friend, “Koshino - do you think if I managed to draw him out, you could take down their sniper?”
Koshino gave a bloodthirsty grin, “Whaddaya think?”
Sendoh smiled slowly, feeling the adrenaline thrum in his veins, “Let’s go then.”
--
Rikkai soon found to their dismay that Ryonan weathered Uozumi’s loss well. Contrary to their expectations, Sendoh Akira rose brilliantly to the occasion as he rallied his men around him.
In another stunning display of shrewd tactics, Sendoh and Koshino working in tandem saw Rikkai witness the death their much-vaunted sniper as he plunged towards the ground. Their plans in disarray, Rikkai were forced to swallow their pride and withdraw for a strategic retreat.
On their end, Yamabuki too managed to overcome Rikkai’s forces and made their way to the Ryonan headquarters, where they found a victorious Sendoh Akira holding court.
Sengoku raised an eyebrow at the conspicuous absence of Big Jun but held his peace.
“Yo, Sendoh.”
Sendoh grinned tiredly as he held out a friendly hand to Sengoku.
“Sengoku.”
Sengoku took a look around at the surviving Ryonan men; all nursing various injuries but there was no mistaking the air of triumph that permeated the atmosphere.
“Looks like you didn’t need our help after all.”
Sendoh chuckled,. “Aaa. And you didn’t need ours either.”
Sengoku laughed, amazed at Sendoh’s continued good humour, “What can I say? I’m just lucky.”
--
Yanagi Renji was on his second cup of coffee when Inui Sadaharu appeared silently beside him. That was no coincidence, because Yanagi knew it wasn’t a coincidence, there was no such thing as coincidence, there were only facts, figures and equations. He didn’t protest though when Inui slide into the uncomfortable metal chair opposite him, merely pick up his mug and take a sip.
“Hm. Arabian coffee, roasted with butter. Your tastes are hard to change Renji.”
A waiter came by and placed a white cup down in front of Inui with a “please enjoy your drink sir” and disappeared back into the café.
“And you Sadaharu? Still so very much attached to Italian coffee, with as less dilution as possible.”
Inui raised his cup politely, inclining his head slightly, causing sunlight to bounce off black-rimmed glasses.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“There is a 72.95% chance that I was here merely for the coffee Renji,” Almond-shaped eyes looked up at him briefly before they were shielded again, the reflective sunlight forming an opaque barrier.
“And then again, there is a 87.23% chance that you were here because I was here, Sadaharu.”
Inui sipped his coffee and picked up the small almond biscuit by the side of the saucer, a small smile tugging on his lips.
“Rest assured Renji, that today’s meeting was fully coincidental.”
And they both knew that there was no such thing as coincidental, still Yanagi sat opposite his mortal enemy, long legs crossed elegantly, one hand curled around the handle of his coffee; data specialists both on the opposing sides. They were friends once, a long time ago, but the past was past and now was now. Now he was with Rikkai and now Sadaharu was with Seigaku, and for some odd reason that fact left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
“It looks like it’s going to rain later,” Yanagi murmured as he looked up, small grey clouds dotting the sky. Subtext was one thing they both were good at, it was handy, very handy, to be able to dance around a subject without the actual words. They had made a living out of it, they were experts at it. So far no one could understand his subtext, not even Akaya, not even Yukimura, no one but Sadaharu.
Rikkai won’t give up.
“Rain is always good.”
Don’t underestimate us Renji.
“Although not always.”
I wouldn’t dare Sadaharu.
“”Rain could offer us cool weather.”
I know you won’t.
“The temperature is cool enough as it is.”
Is that a warning?
Inui glanced at his rapidly emptying cup and checked his watch; the sky was darkening quickly and judging from the cool air that blew across their cheeks, rain was definitely approaching.
“I apologize for my rudeness but I’ll have to take my leave now Renji; I think Kaidoh has been waiting for me long enough.”
“Aah. Akaya will be wondering where I’ve been.”
The two data specialist got up, bowing slightly to each other, each knowing full well that this could be the last time they see the other alive, and parted in the opposite directions just as the first raindrop fell and splattered onto the cold grey pavement.
--
The call from Rikkai had been brief and curt. The amount deposited into her account was anything but -- and for assignment she was given, Hanamura was willing to overlook the shortfall in courtesy.
Besides, there were other matters to consider.
Hanamura's hand strayed to her gun. The car-park of her apartment building was quiet and deserted at this time of the night, the hum of its fluorescent lights echoing faintly off metal and concrete. No shadows.
She distrusted her surroundings immediately.
"Very good," said a familiar voice.
Hanamura unclenched her jaw. "I was taught by someone who was the best."
Ryuzaki Sumire emerged like a bad dream, clad in priestly black, her hair tied high in a ponytail. Gone was the grandmotherly illusion, the sharp edges of a professional taking its place.
"I was wondering when you'd come to see me," Hanamura said, the tips of her fingers brushing the handle of her gun. "It would be rude of me to presume, but let's skip to the part where you proclaim your allegiance to Seigaku."
"You knew where my loyalty lies from the beginning," Ryuzaki said. She didn't flinch at Hanamura's words, but her expression could have been hewn from stone.
"That's not the point, Ryuzaki-sensei." Hanamura could hear her voice rising in pitch, and she took a deep breath. Calm down, she told herself.
"You've always, always broken the first rule you taught me. Don't get involved when it's personal. You said, independent agents should be just that, free from all ties. People like us don't have the luxury of caring about more than what our clients pay us, remember?"
For the first time, Ryuzaki looked her age: tired, worn down from decades of blood.
"I've been wrong before," she said, so softly that its echoes sounded like whispers.
"Admitting you make mistakes doesn't buy you the damn high horse." Bitter and unforgiving, Hanamura stared at her. "Why should you be the one who could walk away and come back whenever you feel like it? Why should you be the exception?"
"Because I make it happen, Aoi."
"But you didn't care to make it happen to me, did you?" Hanamura drew out her gun. "Enough talk. You're here for a reason."
Ryuzaki's gaze settled into calm stillness, a scroll painting brought to life.
"Yes, so I did."
Two shots rang out, exploding in echoes.
--
If it had been any other person, Tezuka would have suspected them of stalking him and put bullet through their head. He was, however, beginning to expect Kogure to show up in the most unexpected of places -- including the bar he chose on that particular night on a whim, or what passed as a whim for Tezuka Kunimitsu.
"Water? Not your usual poison, I take it," he said to the back of Kogure's head.
Kogure threw him an amused smile over a shoulder, "It's an invitation for someone to buy me a drink, if you must know."
"If I'd known, I would have sent in some of my more desperate men."
Someone stirred at the end of the bar -- a blue-eyed, dark-haired man with a scar on his chin, staring at Kogure as if he'd been personally betrayed. Mitsui of Shohoku, Tezuka remembered.
Kogure ignored him, "I'm expensive. How well do you pay your men?"
"Well enough," Tezuka took the empty seat next to Kogure, despite his misgivings. The bartender took his order without comment: two glasses of the house red.
Kogure smiled at him, "How's your hand?"
"Healing," Tezuka didn't need to ask how Kogure was doing -- the proof was in the faint red line on his brow. "I'm surprised Akagi-san let you run loose at this time."
"I'm not chained to Akagi, Tezuka-san. I may occasionally share his bed, but I'm his second-in-command, not his lover or his catamite."
Tezuka shot him a sharp look, but Kogure met it with a raised, quizzical eyebrow.
"That was what you wanted to know, wasn't it?"
"Stop playing games, Kogure-san."
"It's only a game if I'm leading you on."
Kogure picked up one of the glasses of wine, the bartender having returned and gone unnoticed.
"I don't have any underhanded reason for flirting with you, Tezuka-san. I want to seduce you because I like you. If I say, oh, I'm in love with you and won't you please bring me to Seigaku... well, that will be how you know I have plans to sell you down the river. It's an easy lie to spot, because the only man in this world who has me is Akagi Takenori."
"... I see."
"I thought you would," Kogure put down the glass after a sip. "Mn, not up to standards. Would you care for a drink elsewhere, Tezuka-san?"
Tezuka thought he knew what he was saying yes to. He let himself be persuaded to "stop by" at Kogure's apartment, let Kogure undress him with gentle fingers and teeth, let Kogure kneel and mouth his cock.
Abstract thought, it proved later, could never come close with the warm pliancy of Kogure's body under him and the demanding pain of Kogure's nails scratching his back. As for the contrast in the texture of his leather belt and the skin of Kogure's wrists, pinned tight to the bed, and the fragile arch of Kogure's neck -- he had never anticipated the pleasure at all.