Fate's Thread
by: irthos
Summary: Alternate Universe. What if the GetBackers never met within the Limitless Fortress.
Disclaimer: i own nothing.
A/N: this is the second multichapter story i have ever written and i'm really surprised with myself.
Chapter One
The Honky Tonk had been quiet all morning. Few people ventured from their homes when it was raining as hard as it was. A person could barely see four feet in front of them with the way the wind whipped the rain in every direction, making an umbrella practically useless. Only the hearty, desperate, or foolish were out and about.
The bell above the door announced another customer.
"Good--," The greeting froze in the young waitress's throat as she got a look at the men entering.
When she faltered, the proprietor lowered his newspaper and looked at the newcomers through the lenses of his sunglasses. All three had the same look about them. They weren't hearty, desperate, or foolish. They were menacing and, judging by the dark twinkle in their eyes, up to no good. Calmly folding his paper and placing it on the counter, the owner spoke, "Natsumi, go to the office and lock the door."
"But, Chief," she started in protest.
He spoke softly, "Please, Natsumi, just go and don't come out until I come to get you."
Clearly not happy with the orders she none-the-less complied.
Once she was gone Paul addressed the three ruffians.
"What is it you want?"
The goon on the left answered, "We're here to look out for you."
"Come again?"
"It would be a damn shame if anything were to happen to your place," the middle one quipped.
"Or to the young miss," the right one said with a sadistic leer.
Paul sighed, a protection racket, of all things. They must be new in town or they would have known better than to pull something like this here.
"You see, we can be your best friends, or…," the left one emphasized his unspoken threat by demonstrating it. He swept his arm across the bar depositing a few cups, saucers, and glasses to the floor with a sharp crash of breaking ceramic and glass.
Maybe he was wrong, they were foolish. Very, very foolish.
"What have you got to say to that?" the right moron cooed.
"I say that you guys have made a big mistake."
"You're the one who will be making the mistake if you refuse our offer," the middle threatened.
Paul remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest.
With a nod from the left idiot, the three commenced in destroying anything and everything that came to hand. Dinnerware was thrown to the floor to shatter. The padding on the stools and booths were slashed through and the stuffing strewn about. The memorabilia decorating the walls was torn down. Even the jukebox was toppled over.
After ten minutes the talkative left goon's phone rang. Upon answering he signaled to the others and left with a threat that they would be back.
Paul didn't move until he heard their car pull away from the curb. Only then did he go to his office and pulled a trembling Natsumi into a comforting hug.
Not two seconds later the bell over the door rang again.
"What the hell happened here?" a rough voice asked.
"Never mind that, where are Paul and Natsumi?" a gentler voice countered.
Before anymore could be said, Paul, still holding Natsumi, came around the corner and greeted his three friends. "We're both fine."
With a sniffle Natsumi flew into Ginji's arms and started to sob into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to soothe her and looked at Paul questioningly. Shido and Kazuki mirrored his expression.
Paul sighed again and told them about his latest visitors.
"So it is true," he heard Kazuki mutter when he finished.
"What's true?"
"I've heard gossip that an organized crime syndicate is looking to expand its territory here," Kazuki explained.
"What else have you heard?" Shido queried.
"That they always accomplish their goals by whatever means necessary."
x-X-x
Over the next four weeks the Honky Tonk was plagued by misfortune and misdeed. Supply deliveries showed up days late or incomplete. Customers were harassed while entering and leaving the café. Vehicles parked outside the establishment were vandalized. And Paul had to buy two new sets of dinnerware, numerous tables and seating, and a couple windows due to the continued visits of the thugs. Natsumi refused to stay home even when Paul threatened to quit paying her.
During these weeks Paul had begun to notice a pattern in the thugs' behavior. No matter what mischief they were currently involved in they would always receive a phone call and cease their activities and disappear minutes before Ginji, Shido, or Kazuki made an appearance. He brought up the observation when the three showed up that evening, as was their custom since the initial disturbance a month ago.
"We are being surveilled, or rather the store is," Kazuki remarked with a grimace as Shido growled and Natsumi snuggled further into Ginji's embrace, "That is why we never catch these guys in the act."
"That is what I suspected," Paul agreed.
"How do you think they would like it if their little spies stopped reporting in?" Shido suggested with grim countenance.
"No killing."
The three men looked sharply at Ginji while Natsumi tightened her hold on him. It was a rare thing for the former Lightening Emperor to speak. For as long as Paul had known the man, going on four years, he could count using only two hands how many times he had heard Ginji's voice. Paul had weaseled out of Kazuki and Shido that he wasn't always this reticent, but that all changed just over four years ago.
During a colossal fight involving several rival gangs, Ginji had lost control of his alter ego, the Lightening Emperor, and had killed not only all of his enemies but almost his entire inner circle of friends. The only two to survive were Kazuki and Shido. And that had been by sheer chance, having been inadvertently saved by a piece of concrete wall that had trapped the two beneath it. When they were able the extract themselves they had been confronted with a view like none they had ever seen before, absolute and utter devastation. They said hell itself would pale by comparison. On searching the rubble they had found the bodies of their friends laid out upon a large funeral pyre. Each laid side by side with a small white flower placed on their crown. Makubex, Kauru, Mosiki, Kano, Toshiki, Emishi, and Sakura. Only Sakura had two flowers, one on her head and the other on a pair of blood stained, broken sunglasses and a glove clasped in her hands. Juubei's. In shock neither man noticed their leader beside them until he placed a large white cloth over their fallen comrades, bowed his head in silent prayer, then set the pyre ablaze. Ginji didn't stay to watch the fire, instead turning and walking away. The two friends didn't snap themselves out of their dazes until it was too late to follow their leader, and when they tried he was nowhere to be found. He stayed lost for three months, until one day he walked into the room they were using hollowed-eyed, gaunt, and exhausted, stated gruffly, "I'm leaving," and walked back out of the room. The two were quick to follow this time and have never left his side. Now when Ginji spoke all paid attention, for it truly was important.
"No killing," he repeated in a soft voice, hoarse from non-use, "Once blood is shed it will be war." By the time he had finished his sentence he was whispering and hugging Natsumi as tightly as she was him with his face buried in her hair.
His two former lieutenants nodded with haunted looks.
"So what do you suggest we do?" Paul asked not really expecting a solution. Ginji raised his head to look at Kazuki with a raised eyebrow and nodded towards Paul.
"My informants have been able to tell me that places we frequent have been attacked with more fervor than others," Kazuki reported.
"In other words, we are the targets," Shido clarified.
Paul mulled the new information over and came up with only one conclusion. "They find you guys to be a threat."
"Apparently so, very apt of them," Shido sneered.
When they had arrived all those years ago the community was able to take a large sigh of relief. Even though they were not the powerhouse they once were, nor did they want to be, word got to be round and the bad element slowly trickled out of the surrounding neighborhood. They were, by merely making their presence known, the protectors of the area. There were a few skirmishes but the scum soon learned they were far out classed. By unanimous, unspoken, consent the local community welcomed the three in with open arms.
Now it seemed that the infiltrating criminals wanted to turn that same community against the men.