Disclaimer: Kazuya Minekura owns Wild Adapter. I do not.
Warning: Language.
Note: The inspiration for this chapter was so damned random that it sort of bled into the plot. Hope it's plausible enough for you guys.
Beretta 6
brkstrtrcr
June 2009
You aren't sure if letting Tokitoh play your second shadow while you're 'working' is a good idea or not, but you don't exactly have a choice. His exact words were, "You're not leaving me here." So he's following you down the streets of your old neighborhood, hands shoved into his pockets, an uncharacteristic frown marring his handsome features, violet eyes glaring indiscriminately at startled strangers and passing traffic.
He's angry because his inborn sense of fairness, right and wrong that he's picked up from you and Kasai and manga tells him that hassling small business owners out of their profits and terrorizing the average working man is not justice, even though you've tried several times to give him the "greater good" lecture. You can't quite stomach it yourself, but you've come to accept it as the way of the corrupt world. Besides, if it keeps Tokitoh alive and well versus in a bag or some Tojou laboratory, you'd club baby seals without flinching.
And on the subject of questionable morals, neither one of you has brought up the 'shower incident', as your mind has dubbed it, and you think that maybe it's for the better that you don't, although Kasai was definitely giving you some odd looks during your little pow-wow last night.
You smirk around the cigarette between your lips and turn the corner, away from the busy main drag and towards the narrower, older back streets that Yakuza belong in. Your destination is the restaurant address on the business card in your pocket; your goal is to assume the position of leader of the new Izumo youth group. You wonder if you have Tokitoh to thank for pulling the trigger. You still find some poetic irony in just how this position became available--your two-hour bloody rampage through an off-shore oil tanker--but you suppose that if Fate isn't just a cruel bitch outright then she at least has an appropriate sense of humor.
Your musings bring you past open-air seafood markets and questionable gambling halls to the doorstep of a familiar Chinese restaurant, and you shake your head silently as you open the door and step inside. This small, family-owned venue was Komiya's favorite place to ditch his collection route and wait out the day. You haven't been here in years, and the automatic proverbial kick in the gut as you enter is probably the reason why.
You ignore Tokitoh's presence entirely as you let your mind slip into business-mode. It's been a long time, but it comes naturally to you. It's just the way your brain is wired.
The young man behind the counter glances at you apprehensively and it's like blood in the water. Predators can sense fear. You approach him calmly and something inside you smiles at the nervous tick in his eyebrows. "Who's in charge here?" you ask evenly.
The hired help shakes his head. "My boss is out, right now. Can I help you?"
You smirk and reach behind you and extract your gun from your belt and ignore Tokitoh's outraged expression and lay the Glock on the counter facing the worker. "That's not who I'm looking for," you say.
The clerk gets the hint and stammers out an apology in Chinese, he's so damned scared, and while you wait for him to piss his pants and stop bowing to you another young man steps out of a back room, gun in-hand, and freezes when your eyes meet.
Long blonde hair in a sloppy ponytail, squinting warm brown eyes, and a perpetually scruffy goatee?
Ryoji Takizawa.
The reporter from the Fortune Fang cult.
What the fuck--
"I'm assuming Sanada sent you down here?" he asks with an annoyed sigh, pocketing his weapon. "You must be Kubota-kun." He looks meaningfully at the gun you still have aimed at the clerk. "The boss said you were a few cards short of a full deck." His brown eyes flash with something--warning, maybe?--and he glances over at Tokitoh as if he's never seen him before. "Who's the kid?"
And suddenly you understand exactly what's going on, and you fight tooth and nail to keep from grinning like an idiot. You just pray that Tokitoh can pick up on it and play along as well. "An associate," you answer dismissively. "Is there some place less," you glance over your shoulder at the flighty clerk, "crowded where we can continue these introductions?"
Ryoji nods and rolls his eyes and gestures for you to follow him outside. "Let's take a walk. I have to collect today, anyway. Some asshole took out our entire group a week ago and now I have to do all the fucking work."
As you push through the door to the restaurant you do grin.
Ten minutes later you can tell that Tokitoh is going to fucking explode if someone doesn't explain what's going on, why Ryoji is working for Izumo, why you're ignoring him, why you threatened an innocent bystander with a loaded gun. You're in the subway station underground and Ryoji gives the crowd a cursory scan before moving closer to you with casual grace and slumping against the platform barrier you're leaning against. Hidden by the throng of salary workers and schoolchildren ambling by, his face relaxes and he looks over at you with his signature crooked smile. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you," he sighs.
You chuckle. "You just couldn't wait for new leads on WA, could you?"
He grins sheepishly and glances around before lowering his voice. "Hey, if I can infiltrate a cult, why not an organized crime syndicate?"
You can't help but shake your head in disbelief and admiration at his tenacity. This is the same man that conspired with your cat and a hooker to break you out of jail and the reporter who has followed you faithfully through your search into Wild Adapter. If anyone could assist you in your endeavors to protect Tokitoh in Izumo, it would be Ryoji.
Speaking of your roommate...
"Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on?" he glowers at you both. He looks frustrated, as if he's been wracking his brain for the last fifteen minutes trying to figure out an explanation for this little adventure. You smile.
"I joined Izumo a month ago," Ryoji says quietly. "I couldn't get any information out of you two so I decided to go to the source. Everyone knows that's what Izumo's after, and they have to get it before Tojou. For a while I was just collecting money under this guy Kiba. He and his partner Ryunosuke used to work under you, come to find out."
You nod, impressed. Ryoji has snooped around quite a bit, and he's uncovered much more of your illustrious little history within the Yakuza than you would have cared for, but it was inevitable. Your reputation has always had a pesky habit of preceding you. "They told me that you wiped out an entire office building after your second-in-command was murdered by Tojou."
Tokitoh's eyes widen in recognition, and you know that he's remembering that damned pocket watch.
Someone who is no longer with us.
You know that you'll have some explaining to do later, but for now you ignore his piercing stare and turn back to Ryoji. "So when I heard that we were going after the mythical Kubota Makoto's cat, I went back to you guys' apartment to give you a head's up, but you weren't there. And that asshole Kiba must have thought I was acting shady, because he sent me off on some bullshit errand. When I came back to the office everyone was gone."
The southbound train pulls into the station and you all pause to watch the sea of passengers flow out and then in, punctual as always. As the warning bell chimes overhead, drowning out the hum of chatter and background noise, Ryoji turns to you and sighs. "Did you really gun down that entire oil tanker by yourself?" he asks, and there's a note of awe in his voice.
You glance automatically at Tokitoh's brooding expression without really meaning to and nod. Ryoji gives you a half-hearted smile. He understands. It's something about him that has always irritated you in the past, but you know that it will come in handy now. He's very adept at reading people; it's probably what makes him such an unnervingly observant reporter.
"So what the hell are you doing back in the thick of things?" he asks.
Tokitoh turns away with a rude snort and crosses his arms over his thin chest, the epitome of disgust. You ignore him. "I made a deal with Sanada."
"A pact with the devil himself," Ryoji purrs, holding up his thumbs and forefingers at angles while envisioning his words as the headline in a newspaper.
You overlook his theatrics. "He gets my employment and in exchange he won't come near Tokitoh, again."
Your reporter friend nods at the simple genius of your logic. "Yeah, but you know what they say, Kubochii," he shrugs.
You arch an eyebrow at him. "What do they say?"
He smiles grimly and pushes away from the platform barrier. "You make a deal with the devil and he'll always kill you in the end."
You frown. "What do you mean?" You follow him as he paces calmly down the walkway and to an adjacent platform. Tokitoh is right on your heels, as always.
"I mean Sanada is as black as they get, man. I know you don't trust him. I just hope that we can get to the bottom of this whole WA thing before he decides to dissect Tokki," he mutters, glancing over his shoulder at your companion.
You turn while walking and follow his line of sight to Tokitoh. "I'll kill him first," you declare, and neither one of them asks for clarification as to who it is exactly that you would shoot--Sanada or Tokitoh.
