Chapter 28: Blood

"Do you realize what you're doing?" Reino muttered through tightly clenched teeth as searing agony shot through his abdomen. Tugging the now loosened tethers from his ankles, he raised his lilac eyes to the chauffer with a questioning stare. "He'll kill you for this." Feeling the soreness from what was most likely internal bleeding, he slid his hand around his stomach and grimaced again.

Smiling, the older man snickered, looking up to meet that quizzical expression. He straightened out his tie and blazer before answering, "Not if you kill him first, sir."

For the first, Reino finally understood the depth of his father's influence. A man with such grandiose power could never have reached the top of the tower of success without stepping on those around him. The driver's kindness proved to the Ghoul just how many fucking people his dad had stomped on to accomplish such a feat. But the problem with people who stood on the clouds in the sky of success was that they didn't have the wings needed to save them when they finally fell.

"Please Reino-sama, save the lady Kyoko." Offering his hand, he bowed respectfully to his superior's son.

Nodding, he grasped the hand and pulled himself off the table. "Get the fuck away from here," Reino whispered to the man before breaking into a full speed run towards his father and the beefy peons.


"Give me your gun," Miroku demanded as they came upon the warehouse, stretching out his empty palm to the young woman behind him.

"I'm sorry but I don—"

"Don't fucking bullshit me, Cho!" He practically shouted. Stopping and spinning about, he caught her off guard and she collided into him. Feeling irritated, he growled. Rudely clasping her shoulders, he pulled her towards him and looked angrily into her eyes. "You're a goddamned cop. Don't tell me you don't have a gun on you."

Swallowing the fear of his wrath, Cho shook her head. "I cannot. What if you hurt yourself, or someone else? Besides, we don't know the situation. We might not even nee—"

"I'm a motherfucking Ryusaki. Do you honestly believe that I don't know how to use a gun?" With unbelievable speed, he snaked his hand around her back and beneath her jacket, fetching the modified Beretta 92F. After claiming his prize, he shoved her aside, leaving her speechless. "My father taught me how to use a gun when I was 13 years old," he said distractedly as he checked the chamber and clip. Feeling satisfied, he looked up and met her offended gaze. "My uncle taught me how to shoot it when I was 14." Turning deftly on his heel, he proceeded towards the warehouses opening. "Also, knowing my family, I'm most positive we'll need it."

As they hit the corner, the former maid stopped upon seeing Miroku's hand go up, halting her. Without notice, he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Her heart stopped as smoke wafted from the large weapon. Unable to see what his target was, she felt an immensely heavy haze of dread starting to fill her chest. "Miroku-kun…" she muttered.

Grinning from one cheek to the next, the drummer looked over his shoulder and winked to her. "Did I mention I'm a damn good fucking shot?"


Reino used all of the strength he could muster to ram into the darker skinned thug, knocking him off his feet. Having the advantage by being on top, he grabbed a fistful of what was probably a very expensive suit and yanked him up. Curling his hand into a fist that felt like it was on fire, he punched him once and then twice, leaving him groaning.

Clumsily, he shoved into a stance and moved towards the second man who was standing beside the glass coffin his wife was locked in. As soon as he hopped off the ledge to meet his level, the man's head exploded in a bouquet of blood and bits. Feeling the sticky spray speckle his face, he raised his hands in astonishment.

Reino immediately turned to look around him and caught the movement of someone who looked ridiculously like his brother from behind the limo at the mouth of the warehouse. Smirking with relief he didn't think he would receive, he returned his attention to his wife.

Meanwhile the tackled henchman, found his grip, finally focusing on his surroundings. Strong, thick legs shook to their vertical extension. Growling at the silver haired asshole who had the audacity to touch him, he began to move forward.

"Wait," Yuuya said authoritatively. Reaching into his jacket, he nodded for the beast to continue.

"Fuck this is going to hurt," Reino rambled. Taking a deep breathe, he moved back towards the foot of the coffin, raised his elbow high and prepared to break the glass, but a violent kick to the middle of his back sent him face forward to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. "Goddamn…" he groaned.


"Shit," Miroku said with the gun aimed high. "This'll be close," he thought aloud, trying to find the perfect timing to shoot the monster beating the life out of his little brother. If he shot too soon, or even a second too late, he would most definitely get Reino.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he looked to Cho and saw her nod more towards the docks. Thin brows met in confusion as he shifted his gaze. "Oh what the fuck…" he grunted, falling to his knees to keep out of sight. As the wheels turned in his mind, his neck snapped back around to the fight scene unfolding in the warehouse. "He's going to bury them," Miroku mouthed quietly.

Spending a few years training in stealth missions, Cho recognized the words that her lover's lips formed. Agreeing with this theory, she nodded slowly. Her unlikely momentary partner's attention was fixated on the cement truck, formulating some kind of plan. Gently she reached out and tapped his arm and then nodded to the truck when his eyes fell to her. "I'll handle this. You handle them," she nodded in Reino's direction. A veil of doubt spread across Miroku's face. But she smiled tenderly. "Trust me."

Still unsure of her capabilities, all Miroku could think about was Kyoko and Reino. Realizing that he didn't have a choice, he bobbed his head with a heavy inward sigh and turned back to his sibling. But that doubt was quickly replaced with pride when he heard the distinctive sound of a gun going off behind him. I knew she had guns.


Crossing his wrists in front of his face, Reino blocked the powerful roundhouse kick that threatened to rearrange his devilish good looks. Another assault came swiftly afterwards, barely giving him a chance to duck. His stomach protested with excruciating pain. Biting his lip hard, he fought through it. After taking a deep breath he looked up and his eyes grew.

The beast had pulled out a knife from god knows where and was getting ready to slice him in two. Reino grabbed the blade right before it could pierce his forehead. The sharpness of the middle sliced his palms as he pushed the blade up desperately. "Fuuck…he's strong…" Shaky knees broke him to the ground, the tip scraping his skin. Just as the muscles in his arms gave out, the man's head exploded in a beautiful rain of scarlet, all over the Ghoul.

Exhaling loudly, he used the coffin as leverage to stand. God I owe that fucker big time, he thought with a grin. Placing his hands along the top of the glass, smearing it with the paint of his wounds, Reino looked down into the glass and found his wife. "Kyoko…"

Her chest was moving up and down fairly fast. Sickeningly pale skin was kissed with sweat all over. He could see her brows held tightly together as if she was having the most terrifying of nightmares.

"I'm gonna get you out—"

BANG!

The sudden force of impact alarmed Reino. The shock of the situation cushioned his denial. The thick outpour of liquid gushed from his stomach. Looking down, he covered the newly formed hole with his hand. When he pulled it back, it shone brilliantly red, bright and vivid.


Yuuya looked down at his son's dying body and felt a wash of satisfaction bordering on orgasmic. "Finally you're dead." Slipping the hand cannon back into his coat, he turned around only to be greeted with an awful smack to the head by the barrel of the 92F.

"Hello father," Miroku greeted him. Slipping the gun into his pants in the back, he upper-cutted Yuuya's jaw and sent him flying onto his back. Moving with him, he walked around and kicked his old man in the face, taking out a couple of teeth. Blood oozed freely from his mouth. "Stand up," Miroku demanded angrily.

The ringing in his temples was loud and distracting, mutating with the heaviness that he felt in the back of his head. Yuuya fluttered his eyes as a wash of nauseating dizziness plagued him. "Miroku…" he heaved with great effort. "My son…"

"I said get the fuck up!" Reaching down, he bunched up fistfuls of the custom tailored suit and yanked his father to his gangly feet. "You are such a disappointment!" Miroku punched Yuuya in the stomach twice and then kneed him to the groin. Dropping him back to the ground, he felt his veins come alive with all of the fury he held deep inside.

Like a picture wheel, he envisioned a young teenage version of the woman he loved, lying bare and helpless before his uncle. He kicked him in the stomach, feeling the break of bone. Yuuya's sadistic laughter at hurting Reino and Kyoko just for his power and position, his own twisted pleasure rang like an aggravating horn in his ears.

"No!" Miroku screamed. Like a blur he had the gun, pulled free from its confines, locked and loaded as he pointed it to his father's head. "You don't deserve to live!" A blood crusted index finger tapered on the edge of vengeance and conscience as he held the fate of this man's life within his grasp. With one last image of Kyoko lying in a glass coffin, the idea of poured cement covering her in darkness for all eternity, he made his choice. "Die."

"Miroku, NO! DON'T DO IT!" Cho's voice sang out from behind.


"D-damn…" he said with grating teeth, falling to his knees. Reino could feel the energy being sucked out of his body as the shock wavered giving way to the heat of being shot. Crumbling to the ground completely, onto his hands and knees, he raised his head towards Kyoko. "Even in this… state, I'm…useless…"

The edges of black started to tease his vision. Reino wondered if this is what death felt like? Just a black void that you gave yourself to, lonelier than sleep and colder than dreams? Shaking his head, his eyes fell on his wife once again. "No…" he mumbled. "Not yet…"

Digging his nails into the ground, he forced his legs and his arms to move. Crawling closer to her, he scowled and tried to find a balance to his awkward position. Blotches of blood and flesh fell from him, reminding him of the impending prison that awaited him eagerly. "Just a little longer…" he pleaded.

Pulling his hand back, he focused what strength he could into his fist and he punched. A crack of glass grazed raw and torn knuckles. Withdrawing his hand, he saw it wasn't enough. Shaking his head with disappointment and frustration at his weakness, he pulled his hand back and put more power into the second punch. A wonderful melody of breaking glass teased his ears as his body collapsed in a pool of crimson…

Kyoko… please… live… he thought as black swallowed his mind entirely.