I apologize for the delay, but to make up for it here is a long chapter for you ahahah. Orz. You blame Slaine for that since his part is literally 7-8 pages which is half of the chapter itself... But things to look forward to in this chapter: a little peek in the background of the Mustang famigilia, major Zero info drop, and the Inaho and Slaine meeting!

Reign

Rating: T-M
Genres: action, horror, humor, homoooo, mystery
Summary: Mafia AU. Inaho Kaizuka, boss of the Mustang yakuza, in search of his elder sister meets a runaway from unknown origins, Slaine Troyard. Slaine becomes indebted Inaho leading him to stay with the yakuza. With their meeting turns the wheel to a whole new adventure.

Main Pairing: OrangeBat
Side Pairings: in the future maybe ovo

Warnings: language and violence
Disclaimer: LOLOL NAH MAN. How I wish...
Owns only: side characters

Third Bullet:
Zero

The usual morning sun's rays peeked through the curtain covered window; bright enough to cause the yakuza lord to stir from his sleep. When he shifted, he felt some pressure on his body disappear. Glancing over, Inaho saw Inko's naked form distancing away from him. He sat up and let the silk covers fall, revealing his toned torso, his gaze lingering on the girl next to him. Quietly, the yakuza boss moved, only to inquire as he slid to the side of the bed with both feet touching the floor, "How long have you been awake?"

Startled by the sudden question, her voice momentarily disappeared. Inko bit her lip and gathered herself together. "Awhile."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Nina told me you haven't been sleeping well lately," she replied, turning over onto her stomach. "She's observant, you know. I don't know why you try to hide it."

"Of course. Anything less would be a burden." Inaho angled to face the guard, expression indifferent. "Are you happy?"

"…Of course."

"Good," he paused for a moment, thinking. "Also don't let Seylum-san get to you so much."

Inaho slipped on his white dress shirt that laid abandoned atop the end of the bed and the guard watched his back as he disappeared into the washroom. She let out a sigh and rolled onto her back once more upon hearing the shower turn on, resting her forearm over her forehead. "Happy… I should be the one asking you that though, Inaho. You think we can't see the burden you're putting yourself under, but we can, idiot," she whispered tiredly to herself as she let his name roll off her tongue, dropping the usual title. Her boss, even if he wouldn't admit out loud, cared deeply for his subordinates of his inner circle and would prioritize them over himself if needed. He risked his life for their own more times than she could count. This wasn't first time that they had relations either. Inaho was too kind, indulging her whenever she came to him feeling frustrated or stressed. Would one call this taking advance of? Inko groaned, tossing her pillow over the bedside. "That stupid princess was right." That thought alone was frustrating enough.

She reluctantly got out from underneath the warm embrace of the bedsheets with the thoughts in her head overwhelming her. Inaho and herself have known each other since they were children. Inko was there when Inaho's mother, the previous Mustang famiglia head, and his father were killed during the first fight against Vers. She was there when Calm and Nina first arrived. During the second war too and also…when Yuki disappeared.

Despite being the one who has always been by his side and have witnessed his past's agony and frustration, why does she continuously let her selfishness control her? Getting jealous over Asseylum, even, and taking it out on her boss himself… The princess's words kept ringing in her head, asking herself exactly whose interests she's watching out for. She already knew the answer.

They have been together for so many years. Ever since they were five to be exact. When they first met, Inko was told by her father that the boy will be the next head of the yakuza and that she is to become his right hand man. Her family have worked under the Kaizuka's for years, their children becoming the head's children's personal guard and attendant. At first she didn't think much of him since at the time, Inaho spent much of his time reading or occasionally joining his parents at meetings. But then after the struggling times after the previous head's death, he became colder and aloof. A typical thing, she supposed. It lasted a month following the end of the war as the Mustang yakuza tried to put themselves back together in which Yuki had to take control. Inko was only seven at the time. She remembered her parent berating her since she was so frightened, but then, the next thing she knew, Inaho was telling her he was going to work toward becoming the next head as soon as possible. "'I won't let the people my parents love so much turn to chaos', was it? He was so cool back then."

But, where along the lines did Inaho's objective change?

When they were ready to head back, Inko briefly filled in Inaho with the material and updates she received from Nina. The man wasn't surprised as he listened as most turned the direction he had expected. It was especially enlightening to ear that the woman was able to successfully acquire the deed to the shop a street over past Club United. It would become useful in bringing in more costumers and supply as a backup should things go downhill.

Soon, following their return to the main estate, Nina greeted them at the door. It's been awhile since Inaho had returned to it. The place didn't feel the same without his sister around. It felt quieter and lonelier, even.

Of substantial size due to the many conjoined single-floor buildings, the estate rested on the edge of the rural side of town. On the outside, it had the appearance of a simple residence, completed with a colorful array of slowing blooming flower garden out front. Inside catered a rather ornate design, all at the whim of his mother. From the numerous vases to occasional portraits, the interior gave off a feminine feel. It didn't take much for one to guess that Yuki, indeed, had a hand in the décor as well.

Moving through the hallways, it wasn't long before Inko parted from the duo saying that she had things she must do. Nina gave the woman a minute's hug with a whispered farewell then proceeded to lead her boss toward the main room. The two engaged in small talk as Nina admitted to relishing the infrequency of Calm's absence since the two usually ended up stationed together on most operations. The two were a better combo than sticking the other man with Inko. They have an amazing skill to always end up arguing over one thing or another.

With a light sigh, Inaho slowly drowned out the female's excited chatter over the newest technical equipment she managed to obtain. The issue of what could be rogue Vers members plagued his mind. Talking it over with the famiglia's princess didn't ease his worries in the slightest. There was always something hidden in the shadows of the group that made Inaho inwardly uncomfortable.

Since Asseylum had taken over, there had been more than a fair share of troubles coming from them. Inaho felt certain that there was growing discord amongst the famiglia. Whether the princess has ever noticed it at some point or not was unclear. He knew the woman wasn't dense by any means and had an occasional aggravating habit to hold onto potential secrets and so on which she could use as blackmail. As long as she could get her hands her goal, she wasn't too against using shady methods.

However, the latest incidents didn't benefit Vers anymore than it did Mustang, making it likely Asseylum had no knowledge of whatever it was that was going on. In addition, it was not like Inaho could just stride in and investigate the place. With the initial plan to send Inko to wander fallen through, there must be something he could do to get inside Vers's darkest hidden secrets. Especially the ones even the princess wasn't aware of.

"Do you want me to bring you a glass of mimosa, Inaho-sama?"

Inaho glanced up at his secretary who was holding open the main study door. "…No, I have some things I wish to discuss with you first."

He swiftly stepped into the extravagant room; bookshelves full of book pressed against the back wall and a desk adjacent to them with a fireplace across the way. Making way to the cushioned seat with the other woman following, he seated himself and made an informal gesture to hint for her to sit as well. And soon she was comfortable, Inaho reached for the lamp on the table stand next to him, promptly switching it on. "Actually, I was wondering if you made any headway in the embezzlement problem?"

A grin spread over Nina's lips and she pulled her phone from her coat pocket. "I did actually," she began, tapping the screen. "Two men by the name Fujimoto Hayato and Inoue Daisuke, along with a woman named Koizumi Ayako, seem to be directly involved. I'll send someone out to investigate further if you'd like?'

"Isn't Inoue the one who approached during that political outing?" His mind backtracked to the day which he loosely recalled was someone's campaign. "Yes, he stated that he was sent from the Ichijou company, which I very much doubt. Ichijou Hibiki has a strong dislike for political related things. As a man in his late thirties, you'd think he'd give it more attention."

Laughing lightly, the secretary lay back, pressing into the chair. "I never did like that man Inoue-san," she hummed in agreement. "Now, I haven't exactly figured out how these three are all connected but I believe Koizumi-san and Fujimoto are former lovers."

"Do you suppose they are desperate?"

"Hm. No, I'm actually unsure how it all fits. They show no signs of intimacy last I checked. So it's a question of why they are working together, what's their connection to Inoue-san, and who gave them the orders to carry this out. Of course, the question of their motive is still unanswered as well."

"Mother once stated that sometimes it's best to look at things upside down; the opposite way. Start from the end and work backward, Nina," the yakuza boss suggested. "See if anything comes from it. I want to know who, how, and where this money is going."

"Of course," she replied as though she already knew what he was going to say, getting up from the loveseat. "I'll get started as soon as I can. I have some files I need to transfer and should be getting an update from Calm soon."

When she approached the door, she momentarily became apprehensive, sensing a presence on the other side. She opened the door cautiously to find someone unexpected standing there. Nina greeted them with a nod before calling for her boss.

His quiet thoughts on Inoue were interrupted by the blonde woman who simply gave him a scarce smile as she stood between the doors that she held slightly ajar. "You have a guest."

"Who?"

"A rarity."

Not in the mood for his secretary's games, his closed his eyes and waved her away as he sunk into the comfort of his velvet chair. "Let them in."

Nina's footsteps faded and the living room door promptly sounded shut, leaving him in the presence of his visitor.

"It's been awhile, Ina—no, Kaizuka-sama," a familiar voice he hasn't expected to hear, greeted him softly.

"…I didn't expect to see your face outside your sector of the estate except for the anniversaries," the yakuza boss replied, eyes now resting on the figure still standing by the doorway, "Marito Koichiro."

The other approached carefully, not letting the distance between the two lessen any more than he could handle. On his face was a forlorn expression Inaho was all too familiar with. There has never once been a time he has not seen that look on the man's face.

"You're so harsh," Marito joked lightly, his posture tense from the uneasy air in the room.

Momentarily sitting in silence, Inaho studied the man. Marito has been a part of their yakuza family long before he was born, having worked alongside his parents as their aid. After the previous heads' deaths, the man had disappeared into his room and was seldom seen since. In fact, Inaho felt sure that if it wasn't for his sister, the man himself would have died in that room. His memory of Marito was vague due to only have been seven years at the time. Otherwise, the man only showed his face during the anniversary of their deaths.

He shifted his gaze to meet Marito's eyes, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "Sit."

"Ah, of course." The former aide obeyed and hesitantly slipped into the seat neighboring to Inaho's. He didn't blame Marito for his distressed form.

"And, what brought you from your cave?"

"…You've really grown up, Kaizuka-sama. I apologize for not being there when you needed me most."

They fell into silence following the man's words, Inaho struggling to make of the sudden shift. Thoughts circulated in his mind before coming up with a simple answer. "Is the knowledge of tomorrow putting that much pressure on you, Marito? It's been years."

"That's right," came a defeated reply. "It's been long."

"Mother's and father's wedding anniversary of all things."

A more serious expression slipped onto Marito's face as he leaned forward slightly, forearms against his legs and finger intertwined. "I want to make it up to you. Klein has informed me of the struggles you've have been going through as of late and––"

"I don't need your help."

"Kaizuka-sama, it's fine if you blame me for not protecting you parents, your sister and even your friend, but please reconsider." The self-assurance in the man's tone startled the yakuza boss slightly. "I have failed them, as through them, failed you."

"Marito."

"I was there. Every time," he went on, voice bolder with frustration as his balled fists tightened and his nails dug into skin. "I could have saved them, but failed to again and again. I was rash then; I apologize."

"If you say one more word, I really will get mad."

The fearful expression that flickered across Marito's face amused the mafia boss, the following air no losing tension. Unsure whether or not to speak, the other fell silent.

"I'm joking," he assured, taking pity on him. "Nevertheless, I wasn't lying either." Inaho paused, mind reeling back to the people of topic, "There is no reason for you to apologize to me. Mother, father, Yuki-nee, and even Okisuke, no one could have stopped them. You, out of everyone, should know that more than anyone just how stubborn my sister is."

Kaizuka Yuki was essentially the family's princess, the eldest child and talented. According to some old family attendants, she had plans outside of the mafia and aimed to work with the police or with the military. She didn't want to take part in any underground business. One night, before bed she told him that she was kidnapped when she was his age and was saved by a passing off duty policeman. However, the first battle against Vers killed their parents and as a result, Yuki quit the academy and put her dream on hold in order to take care of her little brother. Then seven years later, she disappeared and hasn't been heard from since.

Marito rustled his hair, chuckling lightly, thoughts obviously on the old memories. "Yes, you're right. You both must have inherited your parents' stubbornness." He shifted, gaze locking with his leader's. "I wanted to offer to lead the new Zero investigation. There's no way you wouldn't make one with all the new evidence of its return popping up. After all, it could lead to Yuki."

The fact that the man voluntary offered to take part surprised him. He stood up with new determination replying with a simple nod and admitted to making a squad. Not wanting to waste any time, Inaho excused himself to get prepared. Pausing for a moment at the door, he glanced back. "And, Marito, call me Inaho."

A smile grew on the other's face, the stress and guilt he felt over the past finally starting to fade. "Very well, Inaho-sama."

In response the yakuza leader's expression appeared to have softened, accompanied by quiet voice. "Please, if you can, help save my sister." Then, he left.

Three days have passed already and Calm was reaching the end of his rope. He fell asleep on the coach in the grand living room of Murasaki Saito's, a Mustang yakuza client, mansion after ending the call with his boss just some hours ago. If Inaho knew about that, no doubt that he or Nina would scold him. Instead the man had called him to inform that there was going to be a deal and he was to be present. It was actually a rare occasion for Inaho to go lead deals, so Calm suppressed the surprise in voice when he heard. His boss had a penchant of sending out Inko or Calm himself on these excursions. Nina would often accompany as their sniper should things go backwards. Inaho going means that Nina and Inko will be there as well, of course.

"I hope he realizes there are no promises," he found himself whispering out loud.

Lately it seems that the yakuza leader has been taking part in things more often, probably due to Zero acting up again. However, this also meant that he better be prepared to be let down. Zero was, in a way, well-known for 'not existing'. Almost infamously so, ironically. The structure, the smell, the form…. No one could say for sure what type of drug it was. There wasn't even the smallest information on it. Forensics pathologists had been able to identify pieces and possible ingredients but nothing more. Only that it left horror in its wake. Many have suffered over this theoretically existing drug. Was it even a drug? Furthermore, its name even sent chills down his spine, since it referred to the amount of leads, of information, and data gathered on it. The that amount…was none.

Closing his eyes, he could feel the whirl of emotions he felt that day five years ago. Has it really only been five years? Actually, it felt like so much less. The memory was so vivid; he could recall the smallest details. It was the day before Zero's original disappearance.

The supposed drug first showed evidence of existing when he was seventeen. No one was particularly sure exactly was it was at the time. There were suspicions of it being some major PCP outbreak going on, making the townsfolk act violent and dazed. Yagarai Soma, the yakuza's resident doctor and forensic specialist, had been uncertain. Struggling to determine the form of Zero, the man has pulled a couple all-nighters before collapsing. While there were signs of PCP existing in people's systems, there wasn't enough to cause this degree of an outrage. Stores were being vandalized and fights breaking out, left and right. It was secondhand chaos. Nothing like Calm had ever seen before, and he had his fair share of nightmares.

It wasn't long before it started to reach members of the Mustang yazuka. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to figure out where or how his comrades had gotten their hands on it. More often or not, they were too late. That was when Inaho started getting serious. The demand to uncover the drug became desperate. Not just Inaho's group but other mafia in the area began to be affected.

A week into the incidents and his boss of two years younger appeared to look weary. Many members had gone missing since the start as well as the citizens that had been reportedly acting out. It was frustrating. There were less and less clues for them to follow instead of more. Inaho set up strategies to end it but were foil due to lack of information. The Mustang territory of Shinawara was falling, along with Minato's and Shibuya's. As a result, their leader declared that it'd be best that they make temporary retreat to the inner cities until things call down.

Unfortunately, as this being the first event on a massive scale that Inaho had to deal with as boss, things didn't go perfectly as he planned. When they were making an escape, grabbing injured people on their way, some violent Zero addicts had caught up to them. One of them had a gun and was trying to attack Yuki. The following all happened so fast.

A shot had rung out and the next thing they knew Okisuke, who jumped in front of their leader's sister, toppled over onto the attackers and pinned them to the ground with all his might. All with a bullet hole in his chest.

"Stop thinking about it," he told himself quietly. Calm then shifted and removed himself from the comfortability of the sofa, glancing over to the clock. It was already half past five. He grabbed his lance, leaning against the couch's armrest, careful to avoid the coffee table. By now Murasaki should be leaving his office. The man practically lives in that room. It's surprising that a punctual man such as him would be late.

"Hey, mister!" The lancer frowned as he paced the hallway, when neither words nor voice responded to his call. The walls, covered in gauntly wallpaper adorned with photographs of all sort, made the trek down eerie as he was only responded with silence. His gaze shifted to a rather large set of doors which were slightly ajar. When he looked inside, he was greeted by a frightening sight. In the dim flickering lighting of the study's lamps, he could see what he knew could mean punishment from his boss. Blood. Lots of it, everywhere. Calm followed the trail to find the cut body of his client. Murasaki was dead.

The lancer slid he finger over his phone. "Boss, I think we got a problem."

"Take a turn here, Orlane," came a directive voice. "Count Saazbaum said to transfer him to over to the far wing."

"It's your fault we ended up in the Mustang yazuka's territory, Trillram." The driver responded, clearly irritated. "You're such an easily distracted fool."

"Shut up! The brat was resisting."

"He is an untrained twenty-one-year-old. Probably can't even shoot properly."

Feeling drowsy, turquoise eyes sluggishly glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. There was movement. Smooth yet there was excess noise, not including the loud insults the two accompaniments were shouting at each other. It was a car. His cheeks felt cold, he realized, since he was pressed against the chilled window from the cool night air. Not to mention there was the cold metal around his wrists that clanked as he tested his buzzing arms. Opting not to move any more than he already had, he tried to recall what happened earlier. The last thing he could remember was suddenly being told that he was being moved and some men grabbing him, yanking him out of the room that served as his prison. After that he was probably knocked out or drugged. In any case, he could use this chance to slip away then find a place to hide away and plan on a way to put a stop to their plans. He must, if he was to get vengeance for his father.

"There's no point in getting frustrated, Orlane."

The sound of a sigh was followed a sarcastic grunt. "It does if it means starting an unnecessary battle against the Mustang yakuza. We can't afford extra trouble."

"I know that."

"And don't forget that once Slaine Troyard arrives we are to immediately set up."

Trillram rolled his eyes and waved off her words with a defensive 'yeah'. It seemed like the two didn't get along well.

Hearing his name, he momentarily froze though he quickly forced himself to relax. As long he made no big movements, he'd be alright. A small glimpsed out the glass, the streets appearing abandoned and dark. The darkness appeared as those it would swallow anything and everything in its wake. He could just vaguely see rows of warehouses dimly lit in the distance. By the looks of it, he could assume it was near midnight. An idea was starting to form in his mind and he'd only get one shot.

Slaine sucked in a breath, collecting himself. He abruptly pushed off of the car side and threw himself onto the unsuspecting Trillram. The man was clearly startled, but Slaine wouldn't let him get a chance to recover. He quickly used the cuff's chain the cut off the baron's ability to breathe. Of course, in response Trillram gripped the chain, temporarily resuscitating his air, and with his free hand he grasped the gun hidden inside his typical gaudy jacket. Before the silver weapon could cause any damage, Slaine used as much force as possible to slam the elder into the door and caused the gun to fall onto the car seat just in front of his knees.

In the front, Orlane was panicking as she had lost control from the first outburst. Now she was swerving and barely avoiding the discarded items discarded along the streets. Her dark hair was falling into her face and her eyes were wide, nerves preventing her from taking control. She shifted the car and accidently let the side rearview mirrors break off from hitting a pole. Orlane glanced back to see that Slaine had released the other man who was nursing his wounds, obvious pain written on his face. She felt a chill roll down her spine when her gaze shifted to the blond and seeing the gleam of Trillram's gun in his hands.

Slaine was no longer buckled and had kneed the other, causing him to grunt, then used the time the fiddle with the door lock. Trillram glared and shouted, reaching for the tattered shirt the younger was wearing and pulled him back. In retaliation, Slaine let himself fall back, landing in the baron's lap, with both hands gripping the gun and swung it so it was poised under Trillram's chin.

"Orlane, swerve!"

"What?! Are you crazy?!"

"Now!"

Next thing he knew he was no longer on the seat but on the car floor. He used his elbows to prop himself, eyes studying the unbalanced man shouting at the woman. He looked back down, hastily readjusting himself and aimed the gun once again but this time at the feet, and shot.

Trillram screamed.

Having been thrown off, Orlane slammed on the breaks. Slaine stumbled around from the sudden change but still attempted to make way to the seat adjacent to the dark haired man. Though, with the speed they were going, the car veered off to one side and scarcely avoided flipping by sheer luck. The screeching of the tires and the unsteadiness made it hard to do anything. That very problem, however, was quickly resolved as vehicle slammed right into another pole roughly. Metal surrendered to the force of the crash and everyone briefly blacked out.

After a moment or two, Slaine found himself stirring and regained himself. Thankfully he had just enough time to make it back into his seat and not sent flying. Turquoise orbs studied the damage that has been done. Orlane was already awake, and his gaze fell farther to notice a piece a metal wedged into her side. She seemed to noticed his staring but ignored him and closed her eyes, chest heaving. Low whispers of 'I'm sorry, Saazbaum. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'll return from this,' left her lips. He choked on his own air, shaking at her words. Then with a pained groan, Slaine laid back, turning only his head to see Trillram waking up. Immediate panic took hold of him and he hurriedly recovered the gun which has fallen onto the floor, then moved to attempt at opening the door. It didn't budge. Wincing at the pain racking his body, Slaine sucked in a breath and tightened his grip on the gun, using the bunt end of it to hit to already cracked glass. It was fast to shatter and he turned away to avoid getting shards in his eyes, closing them. When opened them once again, he was met with the angered face of Trillram. The man grabbed hold of him in an effort to restrain. Because they were too engaged in their weakened tussling, he didn't notice his gun in Slaine's possession until it was too late and the younger pulled the trigger. The bullet shot right through and the man collapsed on top from the shock, a hand on the hole near his stomach and clothes drenching in blood.

Slaine shoved him off and pressed himself back against the door, catching his breath. It felt so surreal. Everything had happened much too fast. Had it really been only an hour? It could even be less. However long it has been, it felt so much longer. This is not how he planned for his escape to go. Especially since the woman was unaccounted for. Orlane was slightly nicer to him than anyone else so he had supposed it would have been fine to spare her. It was unfortunate that the circumstances prevented that. It appeared that she was still breathing but at this rate she'd die of blood loss. Saazbaum will surely never forgive him for this, but… He let an afflicted wistful smile barely show. "I did it. I am free."

Upon taking a good five-ten minutes to gather himself and carefully slide out the window, the young man struggled to regain balance due to the aftershock in his legs. As he leaned against the battered black car he glanced down, simultaneously bringing his wrists up to chest level and the metal cuffs momentarily shone under the dim lighting of the back streets. The chain had shattered. Slaine sighed. He couldn't remember who it was that had the keys. The only memory he had was briefly awakening once before after the drugging and fighting against the older man. He gave it a thought of consideration before dismissing the idea of searching for the keys, deciding to deal with the cuffs later. As long as he could move and use the gun in hand, he'd survive. For now, he needed to figure out what his next move. It'd only be a matter of time better before Saazbaum's faction became aware of his disappearing act. Surely then, they will find the car. As much as it irritated him, there were rather talented people allied with the man that could find him in minutes.

Realization hit him like a brick and he instantly stroked the lower back of his neck. "I am fine," Slaine assured himself, gritting his teeth. "I can do this."

The young man fell to the ground, his free hand groping around before grasping onto a sizable piece of glass from the car's window. He gazed at it, studying his reflection and noting the visible scrapes across his face. Slaine took in a heavy breath and raised the shard to the back of his neck, shaking lightly. After a moment, he dropped the gun in his other hand and gripped the glass with it as well. This thing is his neck made him vulnerable. A tracker, he was told by his captors, to ensure that he wouldn't be able to hide from them again. The very thought of the device's presence inside made his blood run cold. If he only knew where exactly it resided, then maybe…! Though, it was the knowing fear that things could go the other way just as easily, should he mess up. Suddenly and abruptly breaking his thoughts, loud banging noises rang out through the dark of the night. The glass fell to the ground, having slipping from the blond's hands when he stood up, startled.

Gunshots.

A sound he hasn't heard so close in a long time. In fact, he hadn't ever properly learned the functions of the weapon; his first actual use being earlier in the car. It was only thanks to watching the men fiddle and practice with their guns during breaks or from the distance as they shot from the firing range that was across the way from his room when he was younger that he was at least able to know how to hold the thing.

He turned and made way to the car's trunk, hastily. Opening it was straining but once it was accomplished he shuffled through it, grabbing a large cloth and wrapping around himself. Slaine scanned through the trunk once more and found a pin, slipping it into the cloth then bending it to keep it in place, turning it into a cloak. While it was unlikely, there was a chance that someone in the faction could recognize him. He promptly slammed the trunk closed. The sound of guns going off rang out again. His curiosity was getting the best of him, not to mention if the situation works for him, he could make use of whoever was fighting. All he had to do was prove his use.

Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea but his options were low and time was going by quickly. Against his better judgement, if he had any at this point, Slaine raced down the alley, toward the back warehouses where the noise was coming from. Lingering pain and the dark surrounding him made the travel difficult, but forced himself to persevere. He soon arrived at the warehouse and tightened his grip around the gun with both of his hands, attempting to copy what those men did in those detective and crime movies that he watched in spare time. The lack of gun and fighting knowledge was really biting him right now.

Slaine slowed his strides as he approached the building. The noise had temporarily subsided it seemed. However, it sounded like there was shouting going on. If he had to guess, then there was most likely a fall out. If that was indeed the case, then this place was too dangerous to stay around. Help would be impossible to attain. At least he didn't show his face nor was he-

"You there!"

Whirling about, Slaine was met the furious gaze of a large armed man. The realization that the man could have mistaken him as an opponent racked his brain. He wasted no time getting away from him, which unfortunately, required him going into the warehouse. It was a foolish move. He stumbled inside, the scene in front of him causing him to freeze. There was an obvious standoff between two sides, guns afire and orders being thrown around. Slaine dove behind some large boxes stacked along the sides next to the entrance, barely avoiding the sight of the other man that was following him. He watched as the man joined the fight then glanced around. The situation took a turn for the worst. This was how he was expecting things to go. With the fighting so close to the entrance made it too dangerous to make a break for it, too. Getting noticed would make things go downhill even more so.

Strategies weren't his forte, he noted as he found himself resorting to jumping behind boxes and crates. An odd light stole his attention, as it didn't match the inner warehouse lighting, and he looked up to see a small window. It was the moonlight. The window itself was probably a story high, making it safe to escape from. This was his chance! Slaine climbed up onto of the crates and made way toward it. However, of course following the bad luck from earlier, a series of gunshots hit the boxes, causing them to creak and soon tumble over, taking the young man down with them. He cried out in pain, his wounds getting the brunt of the fall. When he pulled himself together and got to his feet, he realized he was the center of attention to some of some of the men which were firing away earlier. Slaine panicked, unable to pick himself back up from the floor.

"Idiot!" A voice shouted and the next thing he knew, there was an object lodged into the cemented floor in front of him. Long, silver, and there was a blue gem, he distinguished, in shock. It was a lance. Whoever had thrown it was not one to be messed with, which appeared to have been the blond closest to him by the way he stood. The lance had even blocked him from more incoming stray bullets, but one had snuck past and struck into his upper leg, causing him to cry out and instinctively cover the wound with his hands.

"Calm, don't!"

"But, sir!"

"I'll handle it. Go!"

Footsteps fast approached and the lance was yanked away. Slaine looked up, turquoise meeting a deep scarlet red. The man before him stood with brazen confidence, brown hair slicked back and dawned in a nice suit. Slaine couldn't bring himself to look away. Altering his hold on lance, the man suddenly spun around and threw it far over the rows of people. A single shout of a name and Slaine could see the golden blond from before look over and make a dash for the weapon, catching it smoothly and instantly slipping into a fighting stance.

There seemed to be a new rush amongst the lancer's side as they were completely starting to dominate their opponents. He could hear the amount of bullets being shot dying down but the screams increasing.

That was when the man's attention turned back onto Slaine, a single black gun poised at his head. "I never met anyone so idiotic before," he spoke effortlessly, shooting the injured male a death glare.

"W-what?"

A sigh. "Not only did you manage to get yourself injured in a battle that you have no business in. You have the impudence to have one of my men risk his life to protect you. Especially when you have that gun."

"It's not like that," Slaine snapped back, ignoring the gun comment. He can't let himself appear to be a threat. "I didn't want to be here either."

With a cock of the gun, the stranger replied bluntly, "Great, I can fix that for you."

"Wait!" Slaine shouted, voice echoing in the now silent hall of the warehouse. The battle had ended. "Let me help you out!"

"Alright then, please die-"

"I can heal your injured."

The man fell silent and stared for a few seconds before returning his gun back into its holster under his jacket after switching on the safety. They remained like that, hushed and still, for a few minutes until the silence was broken. "Kaizuka Inaho."

"Eh?" That name sounded familiar.

"That's my name, of course. I'm the leader of the Mustang yakuza."

Fuck.

Bonus fact! Mimosa is, you have my artist (ayukii4s) to thank for discovering this for me, an orange flavored cocktail. It's usually orange juice though lmao. Perfect for our resident orange, don't you think? Hahaha.