Kendo
After choking out a triumphant laugh, Misaki was the first one to launch into battle, a dangerous glint in his eyes that promised to support his sinister smile. "You seriously thought you could hide from Mikoto-san?! Don't make me laugh!" With a determined bark, he wove his skateboard between enemies and approached the one at the heart that seemed to be taking refuge behind an assembled frontline. If he was lucky, that one was their leader.
He was feeling confident when he kicked up the front of his board, charging head-first with both hands secured around his bludgeoning tool. He hadn't expected his target to withdraw a rusted prybar from behind his submissive stance, powerfully intercepting the attacking force. Misaki's exclamation was startled by the unexpected resistance. "What?!"
With all of his might, the man heaved on the youth's aggression and collapsed him back onto his wheels to roll back into HOMRA's pressing frontline. "Take those smug looks off your faces!" he ordered from the center of the invaded space. "You think we're just gonna sit here and let you wipe us out?! Think again! We've dealt with bigger threats than the likes of you over the years!"
A reinforced mob thundered their agreement. "Yeah!"
Their disrespectful uproar made Misaki's teeth grind. "Why you-"
"They're just blowing smoke," Saruhiko interrupted distastefully. "Don't let them get under your skin."
"But they're talkin' shit about Mikoto-san!"
Tsk. Saruhiko's jaw locked impatiently at his comrade's edgy retort, and it became a struggle to pry it apart in response. "They didn't say a damn thing about him."
In the doorway next to Rikio, Saburōta casually twirled a black tonfa in his lead arm, a devious snicker rumbling in response to their enemies' enthusiasm. "Well, that's a relief," he confidently derided. "Onē-san's watching, so you've gotta last at least long enough for me to show off my new moves."
Rikio doubtfully groaned as he swatted away the clumsy rotation of his ally's weapon handling. "Watch where you're swinging those things, would ya?!"
"Yeah, and turn the creep-factor down a bit," Masaomi ground. "It's bad enough listening to it from the other side." He gave his head an indicating tilt to direct their attention towards Yō.
In response, Yō narrowed his impatient glower on his instigating friend. "Y' know, it's kinda insulting when she goes off about me corrupting her precious Wolf-kun. He's the king of lame."
With a dull growl, Saburōta slipped his weapon through his fingers to clasp the end before reaching past Masaomi to beat Yō in the head with it. "At least I'm the king of something!"
"I'm about to be the king of kick your ass!"
Without redirecting his attention, Masaomi held both hands out to either side to block his friends by their chests as they reached to thrash each other. He didn't seem overly concerned that Saburōta maintained the edge in reach over Yō, repeatedly knocking the top of his head with his club. "Can you two just focus on the bastards who made Tsukiyo bleed?"
All at once, focus returned to the confrontation at hand. "Alright, you heard Mikoto-san. Time to light 'em up," Yō growled. "So, which one of you landed the hit, huh? If you speak up, I'll make this quick." He gave his knuckles a rolling crack. "Promise."
"It doesn't matter who did it if they're all ash by morning!" Misaki snapped. "I'll teach you to mess with HOMRA!"
Upon catching the sight of one of the men acting pitifully skittish, Rikio's gaze immediately diverted from their charge towards the alarmed fidgeting. "Wait, it's you." When the man shrieked and prepared to retreat through Saruhiko's flames regardless of their intensity, Rikio lurched forward, throwing his fist out in front of him with a bitter snarl. "Oi! You're not getting away again!"
Before Rikio could take another step, Misaki's observation darted from his first target's wailing over the impact of his metal bat to where the mark Rikio was addressing began to flee. "Wait, is that the fucker who hurt Tsukiyo!?"
Neither of them could advance. The moment Neirah had laid her eyes on the one who always managed to slip through her fingers, she ripped her chain from around her hips in a brilliant burst of garnet flames that cut off even her allies' paths to the potential victim. When Misaki stumbled backwards, his chest a breath away from where she'd launched her kunai straight past him, he jolted his observation towards her dash to catch up with the flaming dart.
"This one is mine," she scowled purposefully. She leapt over her weapon, tumbling across the floor before lurching back to her feet on the other side of the blockade, pausing only momentarily to swing her heel into the jaw of a man foolish enough to attack her. When she was steady, she jerked on her chain to recall it and skipped over the slack. "I'll leave the rest to you, Yata!"
Misaki huffed out an impatient snort like a bull preparing to charge, his brow creased with notes of annoyance. "And I'm the impatient one," he mocked. He braced his stance, shaking his fist at the sight of her departure. "You'd better come back soon, y' hear me?!" She shouldn't have been running off alone in the first place with the injury she'd suffered earlier that day. "Oi! Tsukiyo, I'm talkin' to you!"
"Save it," Saruhiko snarled beneath his breath. "Even if she did hear you, you know she wouldn't listen to a thing you just said."
"Ain't nobody askin' you," Misaki growled with a subtle flush in his cheeks.
"What? Are you worried that somebody might hurt your girlfriend when you're not there to protect her?"
"You lookin' to turn this fight three ways?!" he roared redundantly. "Geez, what's even gotten into you lately that you're always so pissy? Tsukiyo's our friend. I'm lookin' out for our friends."
With a disgruntled sigh, Saruhiko audibly rolled his eyes. "She's just the only one that smells like flowers."
Misaki's blush intensified furiously. "You watch your mouth, Monkey!"
After Saburōta twirled his blazing baton along his arm and snapped it across the face of his aggressor, he suddenly jolted his attention towards her departure with a disappointed frown. "But… my cool new moves…" Saburōta hacked on his next breath as Misaki turned around and beat him on the top of his head to take out his frustrations against Saruhiko.
"If you want to get her attention, stop being such a dweeb!"
"What's this?" Yō crooned. "The virgins are giving each other love advice? Kusanagi-san's gonna love this." After sprinting by the altercation, he skidded to a stop and slammed the hook of his fiery heel into the brute to oppose him. When that didn't cripple him, he popped up into a spunky front kick that knocked the man's jaw back. Once his target was dazed, he turned his back on the attacker, jerked his elbow into his gut and then captured his arm, dragging the howling mass over his shoulder onto the floor.
Masaomi's movements were fast enough to blink and miss, but he still managed to roll his eyes as he operated. In an instant, he jarred his toes into the back of his mark's leg, knocking the man to his knees before his scorching shin struck the side of the thug's head. Upon his follow-through, he finished Yō's attack by slamming his heel into the solar plexus of their combined victim. "Can you two fight over fantasies later? Please? Nē-chan isn't into either of you."
Saburōta jerked stiffly to one side like the words deeply offended him. "Wait, how do you know what she's into?"
On the other hand, Misaki was burning with more than rage as he lashed out with a straight arm and clobbered his charging opponent with an impatient curse. "Shut up! That's not what this is!"
His next breath caught in his lungs as he whirled through his distraction to face an oncoming threat just scarcely a whisper away from his face. Luckily, his trusted partner was covering for his interruption with an impatient click of his tongue.
Saruhiko's sharp eyes burned as he watched his knife pierce the shoulder of his target just on the other side of Misaki's face. Once the assailant had been staggered, Misaki finished the crippling effort by clubbing him to the ground. "I don't care what you think you're doing, just pay attention," he hissed. Saruhiko's agitation intolerantly festered as he whirled to cover himself with the launch of three precise tosses. It was one thing to keep his partner safe, but it became another matter entirely when he was defending the ginger so he could chat with his new buddies. "This place is chaotic," he justified sternly. "There are too many people in this tiny-ass room and not enough time for me to keep a lock on you if you fall behind."
"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." Misaki's tone was rough with agitation as he kicked up his board and snapped it across his assailant's defence before wheeling across the room back into Saruhiko's midst. He skidded to a stop back-to-back with his aggravated cohort, an eager expression on his face as he watched reinforcements stumble in from below. "I guess if Tsukiyo's not here to tell me which one of these assholes hit her, I'll just have to tear them all apart like they're all guilty."
After clicking his tongue irritably, Saruhiko felt the reassuring pressure of Misaki lining his back and tried to forget that the rest of HOMRA shared the same feelings. They weren't what mattered, so he shut them out. "Then you'd better quit yapping and get to work."
"Right!"
Upon ducking, Saburōta's bitter growl began to escalate as he turned to strike his next opponent across the ribs. Once he'd assaulted his victim, he raised over the whining mass and wove his tonfa between his fingers before gripping it in reverse and clubbing his quarry across the back of his neck to put him to sleep. "Every time," he raged. He tossed the baton, catching it the appropriate way to line his forearm before spinning and raking both into his next attacker. "Why am I always the one getting left behind?!" He jolted to deflect an assault with one arm, rotating backwards to catch his opponent off-guard and whack the back of his head with his second blazing weapon. "It's bad for a man's pride!"
Nearby, Masaomi slammed the butt of his palm against his enemy's chest with a burst of ruby flames. Shortly after, he switched places with Yō, who dropped a scalding heel down onto their prey's clavicle like a guillotine. When Saburōta leaned back, he caught the sight of more enemies charging Masaomi than he could handle while Yō remained distracted. In response, Saburōta's burning gaze flashed behind the top frame of his dark shades before he extended his arm straight behind him and pitched one of his weapons across the room in a wheel of flames to take out the aggressor.
Saburōta was still locked in position when the room had grown quiet again, and Mikoto dropped his hand on the boy's shoulder in passing. A soft flush stole Saburōta's face when he tipped his gaze to meet the quiet contentment on Mikoto's face. "A-ah, King?"
"You're right. That was pretty cool." Mikoto rumbled his statement proudly, causing Saburōta to jerk on his hood in a sheepishly prideful fluster. He'd have to remember to use that move the next time Neirah was around, so he took a mental note. "Do me a favour and keep them busy," Mikoto softly encouraged. "We've got company."
Neirah could feel the fire in her eyes as she charged down the hallway of the abandoned condominium complex after the target, which always managed to slip through her fingers. She was sick of her past coming back to haunt her. She wouldn't let him be a spectre anymore. With an impatient roar, she thrust her first chained dart from the centre of her palm, burying flames in the wall by his nose to keep him from fleeing any further down a branching corridor. "Get back here!" Before he could consider the dead-end that the door behind him would lead to, she tossed the kunai at her tailbone into the frame to urge him to reconsider.
So, he did. When the partition by his fleeing face combusted, he turned wild eyes to Neirah's approach. Just before she'd given her last lunge, he made the swift decision to turn his frantic face towards the large picture window in the room at his back before crashing into it and sailing through the broken glass.
Left to drop her centre of gravity and skid to a stop, Neirah let out a livid squeal through ground teeth, furiously stamping her foot in a tantrum. "Coward!" she cried. "You're not going to get away again!" Without an ounce of hesitation, she powered through the window over the ledge, dragging her chain with her. It slowed her descent momentarily with a sharp shudder before the hook released from the supports and her heels clattered against the pavement below. The man was easy to trace by the trail of blood droplets he'd left along the alley he retreated through, but she didn't have to follow them long when she raised her gaze from her toes to see that he'd been staggered by their back-up.
As she climbed to her feet, her expression immediately brightened. "Hah! Kusanagi-san! You got him!"
"You're losing your edge, little lion," he chided playfully in a low murmur. He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on the filter of his cigarette while Neirah stood at peace with the realization that he'd cornered her target. He dropped his hand along with his light back to his hip before raising his leg. He shoved the toe of his shoe against the man's shoulder at his feet, rocking the unstable mass with playful pressure. "To think that this one made it all the way out here to me."
She snorted with spunk as she jerked on her chain to unbury it from the rubble of her incline before launching it towards her game to bind his blubbering carcass. "I was just playing with him a bit, that's all." She jerked on her bind until the winded man began to gag. "This has nothing to do with my trip to Nagasaki."
"I was just makin' sure you weren't goin' soft on us," he drawled smoothly. "You're our fierce hunter, after all."
Rolling her eyes, Neirah gave a delicate chortle in response. "Be right back." A playful giggle stole her expression before she leapt backwards over her hands, bounding up the fire escape of the building to reclaim the dart she'd left behind.
"Be careful doin' stuff like that in those shoes!" he hollered worrisomely. "If those heels of yours get stuck in that grate, you're gonna break your damn neck."
In the quiet alley, Izumo sat sucking on the toxin between his lips, watching the ugly scene of a grown man pleading for mercy as hot chain links began to sear his skin. "Just what did she do to you back then?" His interest stirred as he watched the man whimper his terror in a snivelling mess. "Now you've got me curious."
Suddenly, Izumo's posture stiffened to the awareness that he wasn't alone, and when he heard the slow draw of a blade behind him, he couldn't keep his smile from growing as he slowly turned over his shoulder.
"Awashima, ready."
He'd always liked it better when her blonde locks spilled wildly over her shoulders. Stacking them neatly on the top of her head made her look far too tame for his liking. But, he supposed, it only irritated him because he knew better. "Seri-chan," he purred fondly. "Fancy meeting you in a dingy hole like this."
"You think so?" she instigated frigidly. "But this is exactly the kind of place I'd expect to see you HOMRAs."
"Ice cold," he whispered humbly. He dropped the butt of his smoke from his hand and snapped his fingers to ignite it stylishly before it could touch the ground. "Just the way I like you. It's a nice contrast from the hotheads I'm surrounded by day-in and day-out."
"You always did have a way with words," she added callously. "It's too bad that's all you are."
"Ouch," he hummed. "Twist that finger a little more, why don't you?" He closed his eyes, tilting his head with a fond smirk. "Y' know, I'd like to see you do any better with that zoo I'm stuck with."
"Oh yes," she mocked dryly. "Lions and tigers and bears-" Her words caught behind the most unexpected feeling of lips pressed against hers that she would never have dreamed of imagining. Then, when she opened wild crystalline eyes to meet the scrunched-up nose of HOMRA's hunter, she barely stifled the mortified squeal surging in her incapacitated lungs. Seri wasn't sure why she took the time to shift her eyes towards Izumo like she thought the stunned bartender might have offered her aid. Still, when she began to absorb the impact of Neirah's lips, crushing hers in a tight-lipped purse, she blindly thrust her sabre towards the force gagging her command. "You, vulgar heathen!" she wailed upon release. "Unhand me this instant!"
Neirah's cackle was sinister with delight as she bounced back by Izumo's side, wiping her lips like there was a taste to banish. "I should have painted my lips so that I could mark my territory properly," she drawled. There was a hot flash of crimson behind her sparkling eyes as she watched both of Seri's hands tremble around the hilt of her sword. She lowered her voice to a dull whisper as she continued through her satisfied beam, working her reclaimed throwing knife between her fingers before returning it to her waistline beneath an unruly curtain of dark auburn waves. "Think of how lovely my red would look against all that blue."
After stealing a moment to regain his composure and smear the perspire away from his nape, an apologetic Izumo heaved an unsettled sigh. "You'll have to excuse her, Lieutenant. She's recently suffered a pretty nasty blow to the head."
Seri's bark was filled with wrathful passion as she locked her hands around her sword in preparation for combat. "You keep that- that beast on a leash!"
Izumo let a low groan catch in his throat as Neirah lightly mocked Seri's claim with a sultry purr, but he didn't take his eyes off the blue clansman. "Neirah? Why don't you scamper off and find someone else to play with? I don't know if you've noticed, but Bandō's picked up some pretty nifty little tricks while you were away."
"But Onii-chan~" she sang in a low whine. When her flashing leer focussed like a predatory animal on the sight of Seri's defiant posture, she rolled her tongue over her lips to tease the intense beauty into a frenzy. "I'd much rather stay and play with dolls."
"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'll keep tabs on your little friend here." Dismissing her instigation, he slipped a fresh cigarette between his lips with trembling fingers as he spoke, igniting the end and revelling in the flood of poison filling his lungs after what he'd just witnessed. "Awashima-san and I have some catching up to do anyway."
With a disappointed moan, Neirah threw her head over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at her casual ally. "Onii-san always hogs Seri-chan."
"Neirah."
"Fiiine."
Izumo couldn't help but smile as he stood next to the man Neirah had bound, listening to him beg Seri for help in releasing him. Unfortunately, his nightmare wasn't over, not by a longshot, and Izumo supported that.
When Izumo opened his eyes again, he raised his gentle gaze towards where Seri was still heaving with bitter fury. That vulnerability was a good look for her. "She's got you shakin', Seri."
"I am not afraid of that spastic little monster!" she ardently refuted.
A slightly satisfied smile twisted around his cigarette as he casually popped the top off his lighter with a musical ping. "Well, now, you couldn't be all in a fluster over me, could you?"
Her expression hardened with focus as she steadied her sword in preparation for conflict.
Moments later, Izumo was sprinting out of the alley with a gentle snigger, grabbing a lamp post to swing his momentum into Seri's incoming, airborne strike. "Okay, I understand," he prattled sarcastically. "I'd be angry too." He lunged backwards just in time to avoid Seri's relentless force crippling the already weathered pavement beneath their feet.
"If you can't tame that wild animal, you should keep her locked in that cage you call a bar!"
Izumo lined the street between them with a series of molten sparks to keep her at a safe distance for them to converse, but Seri didn't seem interested in talking. "Now, now, that's not entirely fair."
"You're the keeper of beasts, aren't you?" She straightened her sword alongside her head and braced her stance. "That's why you refer to that place as your zoo."
"Maybe so," he sassed spiritedly. "But I'm not the one who tames them."
Her blade locked on his poise, her tone flattening with malcontent. "Spare me."
A light chortle caught in his throat as he straightened, one hand flopping limply by his side as the other rested in his pocket. "Sure," he sassed. "But tell me somethin', Seri. What brings you all the way out here? Are the rumours true? Ol' Munakata's trackin' resistance from his own clan? That's gotta be harsh."
"That's none of your business, HOMRA!" Seri shouted.
"So, it's true then," he carefully noted. "That's mighty interesting…"
In the building red and blue quarrelled alongside, Mikoto's ears began to burn with the sound of boot heels rhythmically clicking through timber and shards of glass towards their destructive wave that swallowed the operation spanning the block. Once he caught notice, his senses hummed to life. A low growl tickled his throat as his sadistic smile broadened before the humid cloud exhaling like exhaust. "There you are," he groaned.
"I must say, you have a rather insatiable appetite for revenge that borders the sociopathic." A deceitful song hummed in Reisi's voice as he stalled in the centre of the opening the Red Clan had blasted through the centre of the building on their charge. He gently touched his finger to the bridge of his nose to adjust his glasses, opening analytical violet eyes on the wake of destruction following Mikoto's every step. "I find it utterly disturbing."
"It's the Blue King," Misaki growled under his breath. He tapped the end of his bloodied bat against the floorboards with a menacing clatter. "He's got balls showin' his face here alone like that."
Yō advanced a step with a territorial snarl. "Bastard's on our turf now. Should we waste him?"
"No."
Startled into submission, Yō respectfully turned his gaze towards where Mikoto derided his effort with his subtle command. "Mikoto-san?"
"This was just a warm-up," Mikoto rumbled upon crossing past the youth. "Go find Neirah and that guy she was chasing. Then, burn 'im 'til he talks."
"What!?" Misaki barked wrathfully. "You mean this wasn't their real hideout?!"
Misaki's raving was rudely interrupted by the confident chortle of their glowing cerulean visitor in the dark doorway. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that," Reisi instigated dryly. "You see, we happened to be passing by when we heard the commotion, but since we're here, I thought it proper to remind you that conflicts like these-"
"Save it." Mikoto's blood was simmering on high despite the sinister beam on his face as he glowered at his cocky rival. His flames leapt from his skin in an intense burn, igniting his flesh with a heat capable of causing his clansmen to step away. "Like I said, this was only a warm-up. Now that I'm good and hot, what do y' say we take this outside, Munakata?"
"How quaint," Reisi sassed. "You say that like you have any regard towards the fate of this structure. You've already scorched your way through the majority of it, so what's one more hole?"
Mikoto braced his stance, drawing his fist back towards his head as he glowered at the Blue King. "You talkin' about the hole I'm gonna make when I blast you through to the other side?"
The hitch on Reisi's sword sang upon its release when his palm fell against the golden hilt. "Actually, I was referring to the one you'll leave once I toss you back out into the street where you belong."
The sound of Mikoto's ire and the look on his face noted two very conflicting truths as he charged their untimely guest. "Munakata!"
"Ready," Reisi finished keenly. "Forgive me, Awashima-san, but this is personal."
The night was peaceful as Tatara walked through the street with his hand wrapped around Anna's soft fingertips. He didn't mind strolling so that she could take her time. He quite enjoyed their time together regardless of the pace. "Anna-chan? What do you say we go find somewhere that sells ice cream?"
"This late?"
With a gentle laugh, Tatara diverted his sheepish expression awkwardly to the side. "Oh? Does Kusanagi-san not let you have sweets this late at night?"
"No." He was moments from being relieved when the tender Strain spoke again. "All the shops are closed this late."
"Ah, but it's true," he surrendered in dismay. "I just don't know what to do with someone your age at this time of night. Karaoke, maybe?"
Anna shook her head. "It's okay." She didn't shift her gaze as she raised a tiny red marble to her left eye and peered out over the slumbering city around them. "Spending time with Tatara is nice too."
Tatara's heart filled with hopeful pride and purpose as he straightened with confidence. "Awe, Anna-chan, that's-"
With her gentle gasp, Anna's fingers clenched around Tatara's soft grip on her hand. "Mikoto."
"E-eh?" Tatara opened his eyes and looked down at her through his confusion. "I was going to say sweet, but I suppose-"
The child interrupted him by throwing her delicate finger forward and pointing into the sky where a monstrous crimson sword cut the night over Shizume City above where Mikoto had activated his kingly sanctum. "H-hah? Isn't that… King's Sword of Damocles?!"
Tatara's blood chilled, causing him to grind his teeth and choke the pulse out of Anna's hand when he saw the night break around the jagged blue edges of Reisi's mark next to Mikoto's. Without another thought, Tatara tightly seized Anna's wrist and began to hasten down the street. "Okay, Anna-chan, it's time to run now."
"Okay."
Somewhere across town, heaving breaths filled the night as Andy charged the sight of his king's sword raising high above the city. "That can't be good," he rushed out frantically. "That's the third king's sword! Suoh Mikoto must have been nearby!"
Andy's shoulder-length ginger locks dusted his cheeks with the speed in which he whirled to face the sound of his commander putting up resistance. With a startled gasp, his emerald eyes widened, and his grip tightened on his sabre's handle. "Lieutenant Awashima-san!"
After a colossal snap, Seri landed hard against the pavement, her boots skidding against the coarse surface as she dusted her fingers between her legs to steady her slide. In observing her, Andy narrowly dodged the lamppost that ended up falling in her wake.
"Go!" Seri commanded. "Take the others and find the captain! Suoh Mikoto has already activated his sanctum, so prepare for battle!"
The clamp locking Andy's sword released, allowing him to draw the blade fluidly from its sheath in preparation to uphold her command. "Will do!" the youth announced eagerly with a small smile. "Dōmyōji-" The shrill sound of a woman's excited squeal interrupted him, and he quickly jerked his head towards where Seri was too preoccupied with flames to utter such a sound. With a vexed expression, he began scouring the area around him before realizing that the noise had come from above. "Eh?"
Dust rose in the street as Neirah barreled into the boy in blue, knocking him right off his feet with her surprise attack. "I remember you," she sang spiritedly. "Long time, no see."
After shaking his rattled head from his backside, Andy startled to the sight of Neirah in his lap and offering him a flirtatious wink. He immediately recoiled. "Gah! You're that crazy lion lady!"
"Do you mind if I borrow your toy? My chains are all tied up, at the moment."
Andy scrambled forward, still too shocked to comprehend that she was nearby much less apprehending his weapon. "Excalibur is not a toy!" He grunted when he thumped against the street in the space that she'd occupied moments before. "Damn it! Where did she go!?"
The fire in Neirah's eyes surged as the whirled on her heels to lock blades with her pursuer confidently. "There we go," she sneered under her breath. "And I bet you thought I would go quietly. How underhanded, attacking me when I'm unarmed."
From beneath long forest bangs, one dark eye flashed in the disturbed streetlights as he locked his calm observation on the destructive beauty opposing his blade. "I wouldn't have had to give chase if you had come quietly."
After regaining his composure, Andy leapt to his feet in observation of the blade lock. "Akiyama-san!"
With a low growl, Neirah surrendered to the steady grip opposing her borrowed arms, and she leapt back to avoid the increasing pressure. "Mm, you know, when a cute boy chases after me, it's usually because he has a death wish." Her threat was sultry and melodic as she filled it with malice. "Just so you know, my big brother says I can't date until I'm thirty."
Unaffected by her pestering, Himori straightened and locked his sword in front of his nose, preparing for the spunky woman to strike erratically and without notice. He nudged his head to one side, causing the part in his bangs to sway slightly and expose a more direct gaze to her spirited banter. "Don't flatter yourself, Lion. My only goal is to maintain order, and if you don't return Dōmyōji's sabre this instant, I will be obliged to retrieve it by force."
Despite his alert posture, Neirah slouched with a low centre, humming her exhilaration through a bared grin. "I appreciate the warning," she drawled in a euphoric tone. "I'll be sure to hold on to it as long as I desire your dedicated pursuit."
Sensing a disturbance behind her, Neirah quickly dashed out of the way, unintentionally distracted by the new face and leaving Andy with an opportunity to strike. She leaned back, narrowly avoiding Andy's martial strike. Her avoidance left him unbalanced, so when she shifted, she knocked his legs out from beneath him and let him continue to fall. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" she praised. "You remind me of another spunky hothead who likes to rush into things."
Andy was quick to roll back to his feet, refusing to let her get the best of him a second time. He'd grown since they'd first met, and he was determined to prove it to her. "Give it back!" he demanded. "That sword has a purpose, you know! It doesn't belong in the hands of HOMRA!"
Neirah's sharp eyes snapped over her shoulder as Himori approached, and before his cerulean strike could land on her, she ignited the blade between her hands in crimson flames and let the auras collide. "Are you insinuating that I don't have a purpose?" The swords clashed, bouncing off one another a couple of times before Neirah swept the edge across her front, chasing Himori out of her space.
"No! What are you doing!?" Andy whined his alarm as he clenched his fingers in his hair. The sight of his Excalibur ignited in flame was an utterly horrifying vision that had him back on his feet and charging the agile woman's stance. "Keep your flames off it!"
Annoyed by the energetic efforts of her attacker, she rotated the blade skillfully in her hands, shuffling it to one side before beating Andy's advance with her burning leg. The boy immediately locked his guard, boot heels grinding against the street as he shoved backwards, and before he could recover, she ripped her kunai from her belt.
Himori's gaze flashed beneath his heavy bangs when he listened to his team member yelp among the surge of flames erupting from the golden knife. "Dōmyōji!" Before he could step away from Neirah's midst, the woman was hammering on his steady sword with the force of fire supporting her borrowed blade. "You're a tenacious shrew, aren't you?" he hissed beneath the violet ignition of their standoff.
"My pride is my purpose," she commanded vaguely. "And right now, you're the only thing standing between us." She didn't care how the man before her took her statement. Whether he considered her proud of her ability to match members of SCEPTRE4 with a blade or her dedication to her pack, he was still in her way. Her king needed her, and if she had to play with knives to get back to his side, she would.
Suddenly, Neirah's breathing hitched in harmony with her resistance as the ground shook beneath the force of colliding kings. For a moment, her wild eyes shifted to the sight of smoke and flame gusting through the city with enough power to barrel her over. Luckily, the same strength had staggered a cough from her opponent, and both of them had to put up their arms to cover their eyes from unsettled debris. "King-sama!"
Himori hacked on the street dust rushing past their altercation with the force of the collision. "Captain!"
When the dust had begun to settle, Neirah's heart was racing, and she grew eager to return to her pride. She snapped her teeth together, her second hand joining her first around the hilt of her sword as she swung powerfully towards the murky cloud concealing her target. "That's enough," she thundered. She ignited the sword, her hot gaze flashing with focus as she hammered her attack in a precise slice. "I don't have time for any more of your games!"
The sound of steel ringing was deafening, but no matter how much force she'd packed behind her attack, her blade didn't go any further than was allowed by the one to interrupt it. The street had gone quiet, which was why her heartbeat echoed in her ears as wild eyes stared at the blade to oppose her. Sometime during the commotion of kings scuffling around her, her opponent had altered. When she realized that her expression had likely faltered in alarm, she quickly replaced her impatient scowl as she locked blades with the fourth king himself.
"Ah, HOMRA's Red Lioness wielding a sabre. Should I take this as your interest in our cause?"
Neirah's bitterly flashing gaze narrowed on the sight of the arrogant man wrathfully. "Lion," she corrected firmly. "Red Lion."
"Oh?" he tormented. "But you're a woman."
Her words rushed out in a sarcastic snarl. "Does it matter?"
"Neirah." Mikoto's sharp amber leer oversaw the altercation, and taut muscles prepared to leap to her defence should the Blue King take to the offensive. The Red Clan had assembled at his back, less Rikio and Saburōta, not unlike the way the Blue Clan had supported their king. The pressure in the street was tangible, but when Neirah turned her pleading gaze his way, she humbled by the sight of Tatara and Anna next to her king. The supportive smile Tatara had offered her immediately calmed her riled nerves.
From where he stood next to Mikoto's side, Izumo casually snapped his fingers, causing Neirah to immediately retract her threat, leaving Andy's blade to clatter against the pavement at Reisi's feet.
"Impressive," Reisi hummed spiritedly. He leaned down and picked up the blade, passing it off to a grateful Andy who was quick to apologize for letting the weapon get into the hands of another clan. "I see you've taught her some new tricks since the last time we met."
They were like dogs, every one of them, and Neirah was no exception. That thought made Saruhiko sick to his stomach as he watched the orderly line of blue assemble behind Reisi while a disorderly mob swarmed Mikoto. Every man surrounding him was victim of the same incurable weakness, pitifully affectionate one minute and then downright vicious given the right inspiration with no sense of the world outside the one they'd created. At that moment, he was utterly embarrassed to be standing next to them.
"Stick around, and you might find out what else she's good at." Izumo sighed his mild exasperation as Neirah swiftly returned to Mikoto's shadow where she belonged, but the tension in her balled fists noted that she wasn't particularly happy about it.
"A provocative invitation," Reisi instigated. "But I think I'll pass."
"Sir," Seri interrupted callously. "A few of Suoh Mikoto's clansmen managed to apprehend one of the victims of tonight's ambush."
"Is that so?"
"Ambush?" Izumo interrupted. "Is that what you think this was?"
"That's why you blues should mind your own damn business," Masaomi rumbled. "We had a damn good reason for bein' here."
"Don't worry. We'll let him go once we get what we need out of him," Mikoto casually interjected. "So, don't let it keep you up at night."
"Suoh, need I remind you what happened the last time you interfered on a personal grudge?" Reisi touched his brow with a strained sigh, impatiently educating the barbarian at his front. "His Excellency wasn't overly pleased with you."
As the flames began to swell around him, Mikoto's wrathful gaze tapered on the sight of his rival with a bitter snarl. "His Excellency isn't my problem right now, you are."
"Now, now, King," Tatara kindly moderated. "Let's not be too hasty now that we've finally gotten everybody calmed down." Once he finished cooling his counterpart, Tatara released Anna's hand to wave back at the blue clan with a welcoming smile. "Sorry about that!" he sang. "But you see, the thing is, these people kind of started this whole thing when they attacked one of us. We're just making sure that it doesn't happen again."
Reisi didn't seem convinced. "Are you suggesting that violence is an acceptable means to respond to violence?"
"What a barbaric ideal," Seri sneered impatiently under her breath. Her blood boiled when Neirah poked her head around Mikoto's torso to stick her tongue out at the aggravated woman. The suggestive action caused Seri's cheeks to ignite with wrathful humility. "Keep that tongue behind your teeth, you beast! Unless you'd like me to remove it."
"You're lookin' for a couple of your pals here in Shizume City, aren't you?" Izumo smoothly interrupted. "I wonder what's scared them off into these parts. Be a real shame if you found out you were speaking hypocritically." Seri's mouth gaped like she was preparing to address his conceit, but before she could utter the sound, Izumo pressed. "Let me guess; it's none of our business."
Reisi could feel his second-in-command tensing by his side in a fluster, so to steady her nerves, he calmly flashed his hand in front of her to ensure that their petty squabble was through. "Well played, Kusanagi-san," he murmured admirably. "Perhaps we should leave you to your business, then, and you should leave us to ours."
Mikoto's wicked smirk curled up to one side as Reisi raised his hand to dismiss his troops, but he refused to turn his back on the Blue King in his own territory. Reisi could depart first, and then he would take his leave, but no sooner. "Don't worry," he droned. "If we see any bluecoats kickin' around, we'll be sure to let you know."
Reisi raised his piercing indigo gaze towards Mikoto's instigation, perceptibly picking up on the man's subtle threat. "I'm sure you will," he mocked dryly. "Until then, Suoh."
"Try not to miss me."
Outside of anyone else's comprehension, Reisi could feel his temperature rise. It wasn't that what he suffered during their encounters were losses, per se, but they weren't victories either, and that bothered him. He hated being unable to wipe that sarcastic smirk off his rival's face, no matter the circumstance. All he could hope as he set to depart was that Mikoto felt the same way when he no more than scoffed at the Red King's instigation. "I'll try."
