"What did I fucking tell you?"
Tatsuya feels his skin burn beneath the surface. His head hangs low and his body slouches in the chair, with Kei-fucking-Nanjo staring him down from across the desk.
"Are you an idiot? Did you think I was joking?" Kei leans against his desk with open hands towards Tatsuya. "What, did you think - 'nothing's going to happen to me, it's just a warning from the wealthiest man in the country, he doesn't know what he's talking about'?"
"I didn't think that," Tatsuya mutters, a dead response.
"You didn't think, period." Kei snaps his fingers, and before him Yamaoka brings forth a small tablet computer. With a few swipes, Kei opens a window and holds it in front of Tatsuya. A web page, the U.C.L Paper's home website looks up backs at him; the article title is Police captain, girlfriend reported missing. He feels the sickness inside stir.
"That's him, right? Your brother? The one who threw you out? The one who wanted to fire you?" Kei pries, edging Tatsuya's fists to clench tighter.
"Kei, that's enough," the wary voice of Eriko breaks both their focus, narrowing her eyes from Tatsuya's side. "Berating someone doesn't make a point."
"His skull's too thick to take any warnings seriously, Eriko," Kei says with a click of his tongue, only offering his partner a moment's glance. "Seems like pissing him off's the only way my words get through to him."
"Then what?" Eriko presses her fists into her hips, and stands taller than Tatsuya thinks he could now. "You better do something to help, after."
"Are you joking?" Kei asks in shrill bewilderment, pushing himself off the desk in absolute shock. "This is not my fault. I have zero-fucking-reason to even offer my sympathy."
"What about Yuriko? And Tomomi?" Eriko returns the jab with a shout of her own, sharper and louder than Kei's baffled outcry. "You just don't care about what that group does to innocent people?"
Kei glares at Eriko's defiance. "I never said that—"
"Letting two innocent women and Tatsuya's brother be mistreated and taken just to twist his arm a little because it's not your problem is saying exactly that." Eriko clenches her fists and straighten her arms at her side, furious - the fire inside her ignites to a vicious oil fire, and Tatsuya lifts his head to look at her. An epiphany of dear dawns on him, troubling him.
"What happened to those friends of yours?"
Eriko looks at him, and the anger subsides. "The Masked Circle is more than just a cult. They lure people in, and get their attention with their mask idea… but they do secret trades under the table. Weapons, drugs, even trafficking."
Her gaze falls. "Animals and humans. Our friends… I haven't heard from them in months." Eriko takes a deep breath. "I don't know if they just don't want to talk to us anymore… or if something worse happened. But it's why something has to be done."
She looks at Kei, a wicked glare once more on her face. "If you're not going to do something, then the Kirishima brand will. We'll put together as much money as we can—"
"I think not," Kei interrupts, head hanging and wiping his glasses. When he returns them to his face, he sighs. "You're indignant, not foolish. You'll put a target on your entire family's back if you openly oppose them like that."
"Do you have a better idea?" Tatsuya asks, finally sitting up.
"Demanding their return and taking action against their orders will definitely get them killed." Kei muses, like it was a business decision to make. "You, as well. Complying with their orders might be all you can do for now, while we think about our options."
"We have no idea if they will keep them alive, or even in the city," he retorts, sharply. Kei's eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, tested.
"As dishonest as they are, if they were going to kill them, they'd kill you at the same time." He steps from around his desk. Yamaoka fetches the tablet. "We have to approach this carefully, Suou. If you want your brother alive, you have to agree to what you're being told."
Tatsuya's eyes are hopeful. Kei notices, and sighs quietly.
"... I will put forward efforts to help rescue your brother, his girlfriend, and your friend. It will take time to plan, but… sabotage takes patience and time. And it will be done."
Tatsuya stands up, almost shaking. Kei's hand reaches up, pausing, like he doesn't know what to do with it. Stiffly, he presses it against Tatsuya's shoulder, and the gesture means more than he can show. It feels like an open window in a warm building, filled with smoke and steam. Tatsuya drops his shoulders, and exhales with a nod.
"What task do you have to do?" Eriko asks, a hand on Tatsuya's elbow.
"Today, we're going to a club." Kei raises an eyebrow, and Tatsuya averts his eyes. "Extortion. We're meeting with the owner."
"His name?"
"I don't know his name. The club is Bahama Mamas?"
Kei ponders for only a moment, then the revelation hits him. "Ah. The owner is Naozumi Kariyazaki. He is fixated on maintaining high level security - if he's being sought by the Circle, it's no wonder." He pulls out his phone, and swipes it open. "I will arrange for your ride. I will have you adequately prepared for your mission."
"—Thanks, but I have my bike," he hurriedly responds, as Kei walks back around his desk.
"It will be returned to your apartment." Kei doesn't look up from his phone. Tatsuya frowns. "Just tell me where you live."
Tatsuya looks over at a Eriko, who just smiles something comforting. He'll take her grin as a wish of good luck rather than an excuse for Kei. "Alright. Thank you."
"Wouldn't want to be late." Kei finally looks up. "Get going. I will speak to you soon."
Maybe he could get used to limousine rides and a sharp drink poured in the back seat. Under better circumstances, of course. And without Yamaoka keeping him in the car for a moment longer for one of Kei's "surprises".
The butler opens a black case, clasped with steel. When he opens the lid, Tatsuya's eyes widen at the silver plated pistol, looking up at Yamaoka in disbelief.
"Master Nanjo insisted you keep it after your operations are completed," Yamaoka says, closing the case when Tatsuya takes the weapon. "It is easily concealable, and will provide you plenty of protection."
Several short magazines are passed his way. Tatsuya takes them, uneasy, and looks for pockets to slip them into. Without lifting his head, he pauses and mutters, "Thank you."
Yamaoka smiles, and chuckles under his breath once Tatsuya secures the gun in his jacket. "As well—to ensure your complete protection, Master Nanjo will provide you with something else."
A black knife is passed towards Tatsuya. Cautious, he takes the blade and slips it to his pocket, and then looks at Yamaoka with his head hanging. The gun sits uncomfortably in his jacket, but it is secured, pressed against his body. With a little difficulty, he opens the limousine door and steps out, as the older man leans to close the door.
"Good luck, Master Suou," Yamaoka calls, and the vehicle drives away.
Night has drawn over the city. The sidewalks are packed with people clustering in the red rope line for entrance to the club, whose purple and blue sign illuminated the building. Lights of all colours light up the street in a dark shine, but standing beneath the Bahama Mamas martini shaped sign colours his jacket and hands blue and purple.
Lingering near pedestrians strikes an anxious match in him—but he doesn't linger in line for long until a hand taps his shoulder, and he turns to see Maya.
"This way," she says, taking his arm and guiding him. Her cardigans and flared brown pants have been replaced with a sequin shirt and loose black shorts. Maybe it's to blend in. He just hopes she's safe.
"Who are we meeting?" he asks, quickening his pace to match Maya's.
"He's around the back—there's someone who can sneak us inside."
Down the length of the building, where the blue and purple lights are replaced with service white, and the bustle of the street is just a distant memory, a man stands by a side entrance. He watches Tatsuya and Maya approach, leaning against the wall by the door's knob. He brushes black hair out of his face, and looks at Tatsuya longer than he does Maya.
"Is this him?" he asks, with a surprisingly gentle, inquisitive voice. His white shirt is decorated in large roses, and his sleeves are loose around the elbow. His hand lingers on his chin, pondering.
"Yes," Maya says, her uneasiness relieved. "Tatsuya, this is Jun."
"Kurosu," Jun finishes, his gentle hand now extended towards Tatsuya. Apprehensive, Tatsuya shakes it. "The King told you that you would assist me this evening, correct?"
Both nod. Jun's smile is mischievous and satisfied.
"Then we should waste no time. Inside, there is a woman who will assist us in moving past this door." Jun pushes himself off the wall with an elegant roll, and turns himself to open the door.
It opens slowly, the heavy steel held open by Maya as the three file in. Both Tatsuya and Maya take pause when the large body of a guard lays on the ground, face down. Another body rests against a wall, and the only person standing is a girl, just a few years younger than him.
"You know I could hear you," she says, smirking. Jun laughs, light and airy.
"That's hardly my fault—you should have been able to tell I was whispering, then." He looks over his shoulder at the other two. "This is Musubu. She will assist us in locating the club's manager."
"He's out of his office right now," Musubu replies, "I've made sure he'll be on the floor for a while. It can be perfect time to sneak it and set up what you need."
Tatsuya makes a troubled expression, and glances at one of the large bodies laying on the ground instead. Musubu notices, and tips herself forward to catch his attention.
"They're not dead," she assures, "they're just not going to wake up for a while."
Tatsuya presses his mouth into a thin line. He'd rather not know what the small girl's methods are.
"Maya," Jun says, with a hand gesturing to Musubu. "Please remain with Musubu and keep watch for anyone looking for our target. Tatsuya—I would like you to assist me." He gives a gentle smile, and it soothes some of the uncertainty burning inside Tatsuya's chest. Both nod, and when Musubu leaves the room, the three follow.
The music reminds him of Maisonette—powerful, deep sounds that pulses through the building, with lit up glass floors to dance on. Two large dance floors flash with bright neon squares changing colour, and are packed with moving, dancing bodies. The mass is difficult to navigate through, but Jun's shirt is bright, even through the shadow of bodies and darkness, illuminated momentarily with a stray light casting down over them. Across the floor, through lounge chairs and loud laughter and jeers, there is a solid wall, with a nondescript, windowless door. When Jun opens it, plain light spills out.
"In here," he says, gesturing for Tatsuya. Tatsuya looks over his shoulder at Maya and Musubu, and the young dancer gives a peace sign and a wink before he closes the door behind him.
The office light is bright. It strains his eyes, from the flashing neon amid darkness. He pinches the bridge of his nose while covering his eyes, listening to Jun move through the office furniture. When he opens his eyes, the desk chair is pulled out, and he's collecting papers."Your name is… Kurosu, right?" he asks, awkward and uncertain.
"It is." Jun doesn't look up, but he briefly sighs. "Yes, Junko is my mother."
"Sorry." Tatsuya reaches the hand to his neck, and scratches it, sheepish. "I guess you get that a lot."
"Not much, anymore. But I do." Jun stacks the paper neatly, and adjusts it against the table. "We'll need the combination to his safe. Hopefully, he will return promptly. I dislike the music very much."
Tatsuya looks behind him at the door. "Where do you want to stand?"
"You stand at the door. Keep him inside when he returns." Jun rests the stacked paper on the desk, and takes a seat in the chair. "Oh—it's soft."
His smile is bright, and for a moment, more innocent than who he is. Tatsuya leans back against the wall next to the door, watching his grin.
"You don't have to sit so close," Maya mutters, averting her eyes.
"It's just so I look like I'm talking to you," Musubu says, her body sliding down the arm of a couch glowing bright under the wall's blacklights. Her body rests against Maya's, her chest making acquaintanceship with Maya's shoulders. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"
"It's alright," she responds quickly, reaching a hand up impulsively, only to accidentally graze the girl's bare stomach. When she pulls her hand back, face flushing, the girl laughs.
"You don't have to be embarrassed. Unless…" she tips her head. "Are you seeing someone?"
"Yes," she says, slowly looking back at the girl. "… Yes. I am. She's… a great girl."
Musubu adjusts how she sits, pushing herself a little farther off Maya. For this, she is grateful. "You sound uncertain."
Maya sighs. "It's not her fault at all. What's been happening recently… it's just stressing us both out." Her gaze roams to the dance floor, where women dance with women and hold each other close. Musubu watches them with her, a comforting hand replacing the touch on her shoulder. "I wish it was easier. I don't want to hurt her or anything."
"You're the people our King brought in, right?" Musubu lifts herself up a little, and Maya follows her with her eyes. "… Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Have you… heard about a missing girl, recently?" Musubu's eyes wander away, and Maya feels a stroke of concern. "Her name is Akari Torikiki. She's been missing for a few weeks."
Maya frowns. She doesn't like the feeling creeping up on her. "Someone was taken from you, too?"
Musubu stares, shocked. She pushes a little on Maya to move over, and then slips down on to the cushion, taking her hands into her own. "Don't tell me they're—"
She stops. Her eyes roam past Maya, who turns her head to look back, and watches a man in a black suit open the dark painted door and step inside. Her gaze turns back to the young dancer, who seems to hold her breath, the confidence completely washed away from her. She grips Maya's hands a little tighter, and mutters, "I hope it goes well."
The door closes right as Tatsuya grabs Naozumi's arm and the back of his neck —he twists his wrist up his back, and shoves his head forward to keep him down, his outcry silenced by the music outside. Jun lifts himself out of the chair, a steel handcuff slipping from his hand, lock opened.
"Hello, Kariyazaki," Jun says, grabbing his free, flailing hand and latching a cuff around it, and with Tatsuya's assistance, pulls him into the chair with a vicious precision. Jun draws his arm back, and slams his elbow into the other man's cheek, throwing his dizzied head to the side. Tatsuya steps back, as Jun continues strapping him into the seat.
"Who the fuck are you?!" the man eventually spits, a brilliant red already spreading across his cheekbone. The bruise will linger for days—Tatsuya can tell from just the sheer size.
"Representatives of the Circle that you have wrongfully antagonized," Jun replies. Crossing his arms, Jun sits against the desk in front of Naozumi, the impish smile from before a distant memory. He looks down to his right, where a black safe sits underneath. "This is the club's safe, correct? Tell me the combination."
"Go to hell," Naozumi snarls, pulling against the bindings on his wrists. Jun sighs deeply, and beckons over Tatsuya. Without question, he finds himself following — for Jun to reach into his jacket, grab the weapon, and withdraw it to aim at Naozumi's head, who recedes farther into the chair when the barrel fixates between his eyes. His fear keeps him a steady hostage, and doesn't noticed the surprise cross Tatsuya.
"I do not want to use this," Jun says, patient and quiet. "Please, tell me what the combination is. Your wrongdoings against my father have not been overlooked."
"How did you get into my club—" Jun's hand carefully switches the safety off, and his head tilts. Naozumi tries to lean back farther, his head pressing into the back of the chair. "It-it's—it's three—"
"Tatsuya, open the safe," Jun says, without breaking his stare from his captive. Tatsuya closes his mouth, presses his teeth together, and kneels at the safe, pressing the third button of the numeric keypad. His hand lingers by Jun's leg, and he quietly taps his calf, asking him to move.
Jun wordlessly adjusts how he sits. "Continue."
"It's three, eight, one." Naozumi's eyes almost cross staring down the barrel, his chest rising and falling a little more rapidly as the fear settles further inside. Tatsuya presses the remaining buttons, and a quiet 'click' opens the door, which slowly swings open to thick stacks of hundred dollar bills. Jun slips off the desk, and pulls a duffel bag from the other side of the desk across the floor towards Tatsuya.
Quickly, and without hesitation, Naozumi kicks his leg forward, slamming into the arm that Jun holds up towards his face with the gun. Jun drops it, pulling his arm back and biting his tongue to withhold the cry of pain. Tatsuya grabs the gun and stands up with it, and pushes the seat back, aims down to his shin—
The spray of gunfire is short. Bullets rip through skin, and blood rips through the skin as the scream does the lungs. Naozumi's mouth hangs open as he breathes loud, unsteady gasps, gripping the edges of the armrests and pulling against the steel cuffs. His body trembles with the pain, blood darkening the suit's pants as Tatsuya kneels back down, wordlessly. He looks at Jun for only a moment before pulling the money into the bag, laying the weapon on its side.
"We need to hurry," he tells him, reaching up on the desk to grab the papers previously stacked together. "I don't know if anyone heard that, but if they did—"
"Why did you do that?" Jun asks, wide eyed, words coloured with mystified wonder. Tatsuya looks up at him again, watching him for a moment longer.
"It—came as a natural reaction," he admits. He doesn't like how that sounds, or how it sits on his tongue. Still, Jun grabs the bag and slips the weapon inside, before zipping it shut.
"Thank you," he replies, the humility from before returning to him. With a deep breath, he lifts the heavy bag to his shoulder and stands, looking at Naozumi, who heaves through the pain and hangs his head. Tatsuya stands up, and grabs Jun's arm to pull him across the office, stopping at the door.
"How did you know I was armed?" he asks, looking back with a hand on the door.
Jun glances to the side, aimless. "I was looking at you," he admits.
Tatsuya lingers for a moment, before opening the handle, shutting it quick behind them before Naozumi can scream again.
The crowd is crossed between curiosity and blissful ignorance; he can see it in how the patrons dance, moving together in uneven beats and looking around the floor. Some have stopped all together, and Tatsuya makes little time to guide Jun towards Maya and Musubu, who are alert, on their feet.
"We need to go," Tatsuya says, walking past both of them.
"Was that… you?" Maya asks, pulling back on his arm for a moment to get his attention. When Tatsuya doesn't respond, Maya's expression grows troubled in the darkness.
"I have to go," Musubu calls over the music, pushing on Maya's back towards the storage entrance. The bodies remain on the floor, silent. "You do, too. They can't—nobody can find you, you need to go."
Maya turns her head, and holds herself in the doorway. "If you need to talk—"
"I will," Musubu stalls, lingers against Maya. She watches her for a second longer, then closes her eyes to nod. "I will call you. Thank you… Maya."
Maya's smile is a sad one. Tatsuya pushes open the side door, the cool of night filtering through the warm building. Maya steps out soon after Jun, and the door closes with a lock. She looks towards Tatsuya, a wave of distrust crossing over her, before she exhales a sigh she had been holding.
"Lets go," she says, almost mournful. She looks at the bag over Jun's arm, her frown lingering. "Is that what we came for?"
"Yes," Jun says, looking down at it. The calm seems to exhaust out of him, and he reaches over with hands to support the bag. "It's everything."
"Is it… money?" she asks, her brow furrowing. Even with the darker expression on Jun's face, he still responds with a nod, and starts to lead them down the alley's path.
"The Father is furious with Kariyazaki," he admits, "and he wished to collect a 'revenge payment' with my assistance. No punishment shall come our way for our actions—"
"But don't you feel bad?" Maya asks, and Jun looks back at her.
"It doesn't matter what I feel," he confesses, "only that my job is done."
Maya's frustrated expression returns. She lowers her head, staring at the concrete, and clenches her fists. Tatsuya watches her until the club's lights filter down over them again, casting the three in a luminous glow of blue and pink. When he lifts his head, he stops with his heel against the sidewalk, looking up at two larger men, clothed in the same uniform as the fallen guards inside.
"We'd like to talk," one of them says, arms crossed. "Were you three inside?"
Tatsuya and Maya both tense, but Jun slips ahead of both, and looks at the men, lingering in both of their eyes. "Yes, we were. I have just finished business with your employer."
The man to the right takes pause, and then steps back, guiding his partner with him. "Of course—thank you for informing us, mister Kurosu. You—may go."
"Thank you," Jun says, and continues to walk, beckoning Tatsuya and Maya to follow. Both hurriedly walk along, catching up to Jun as the warning whisper between the men pass between the other. Tatsuya stares at the back of Jun's head, and continues to stare until Jun stops them by the car that Tatsuya presumes both he and Maya arrived in. When Jun turns around, he looks at Maya for a moment, and then lingers on Tatsuya.
"They know who I am," Jun replies, simple. "I have been made to do business with Kariyazaki before. This may be my final mission involving his business with the Father, however — I hope it is."
Someone steps out of the vehicle, in a black coat and dark glasses. He opens the back seat door, and Jun steps inside, beckoning with a nod for his company to follow. Tatsuya steps inside, and the chauffeur guides Maya to the passenger seat, opening the door for her as well. Jun looks over at Tatsuya, the bag left between them.
"You may take your weapon back," Jun says, while Tatsuya looks over. He opens the bag and sifts through the overturned money, digging out the pistol and returning it to his jacket. Jun watches him, patient. "Thank you, again, for defending me."
Tatsuya stares into the back headrest of the driver's seat, and sighs, quietly. "It was a violent decision. I regret reacting that way."
Jun leans back in the seat, looking at the bag with a forlorn expression. Tatsuya slowly moves his gaze over to Jun to watch him, and feels what must be pity cross him as he watches how Jun's expression falls to something more pensive. He closes his eyes to exhale, exhausted, and then looks up at Tatsuya. "Still - I appreciate your intentions."
He glances away from Jun, whose smile is genuine. The sincerity gets to him, and it makes him close his eyes. The car slows as traffic builds, and Maya's distant voice to the chauffeur seems to turn the radio on, an overenthusiastic voice filling the car at a too-late time in the night for such volume. The car rolls down the street, the lights of buildings peering through the tinted windows and relaxing Tatsuya's growing tension. Always tense. Always with the headache on the horizon.
Tatsuya's eyes roam through the car when they pull to another light. Maya rests her head against the window, her breathes quiet and gentle. Jun looks out the window, his phone illuminated in his lap but forgotten about. As he leads his eyes back to his own window, he notices a dollar bill on the top of the bag.
Tatsuya picks it up, but before he holds it to Jun, notes the writing on top of it. He glances at it—and sees a written phone number.
He cautiously looks at Jun again, who doesn't look back. Folding the bill and tucking it into his pocket, Tatsuya rests his mouth against his palm and stares out the window, and—tries not to overthink it.