Heart of the Infiltrators

(Senran Kagura x Male Reader)

Chapter 35: Foul Retaliation

Sitting by the tent that had been pitched in the apartment's parking lot for the past couple of nights, Hibari, Yagyū and Mirai were playing a heated game of Unus. After being made to draw a few more cards, the latter of them all played a red and grumbled, "All this drama… stupid…"

"Bit of a random thing to say," commented Yagyū with a straight face as she also played a red, "but you also sound like you want to vent." After the other two took their respective turns in silence, the white-haired girl pushed, "Do you have something to say or not?"

Hibari switched the color to blue before raising a defensive palm against Yagyū, "Give her a bit… Maybe she needs to think-," but was cut off once Mirai jumped in.

"We've finally gotten Oda off our backs but now we need to deal with Sato." She aggressively slapped a card onto the pile, switching the color back to red, before continuing her rant, "But, just once we think she'll be keeping her hands off for a few days, then this guy, Miki, comes out as a dignitary and complicates the whole situation." As Mirai continued to speak, Yagyū and Hibari took their turns, "And there's probably more dignitaries in the picture… But it doesn't end there! We've got big brother Tsao working in the background, probably plotting to massacre the lot of us or whatever he's been doing this whole time, while his younger brother still needs to get to fixing our distortion, which he has not done in over a week, mind you!" The other two played their turns again, keeping the color red, as Mirai threw up her hands with a hint of finality, "Oh, but the best part! We've got five-, NO, SIX! We've got six teenagers in heat who're off playing around and doing a whole bunch of romcom bull!" before she finally settled herself down and grumbled, "And, of all those problems, they decided to work on the latter today… what a bunch of…" followed by a frustrated groan.

Yagyū calmly drew a few cards before playing a green, "Alright."

Hibari anxiously laid down her card as Mirai narrowed her eye on the white-haired girl, "You know that I was expecting more than… that as a reply."

Unmoved, Yagyū gave a slight shrug and asked, "Well, what do you want me to say? Should I pat your shoulder and assure you that your concerns are, indeed, valid or were you just venting? Either way, we're in the middle of a game."

Hibari played another blue while stuttering out, "Perhaps we could talk about this once they get back-," but was cut off again once Mirai threw down her entire hand of cards while breathing heavily.

Waiting for a few seconds to see if the smaller girl would do anything else, Yagyū asked plainly, "Want me to talk to you frankly then?"

After standing up and giving the cards she laid down a kick, Mirai flapped one of her arms, "Please do! Let me know if I'm just being-, No, I have to be crazy since nobody else seems to be as freaked out as I am right now. So, tell me how crazy I am or… I don't-, something! Just…" and sat back down onto the concrete to murmur, "Just tell me something…"

"You're scared," stated Yagyū as she began to clean up and organize all of the cards into the deck, "That's the impression I'm getting out of this."

Mirai gave a dismissive sneer, "O, omniscient one…" before spitting out, "how'd you come to that conclusion?"

"My younger sister behaved the same way when I tried to stay up later than she did once." Giving a lighthearted snort while giving off no hint of emotion, Yagyū continued, "I watched a movie, came back to our bedroom, and there she was crossing her arms with puffed cheeks. She got snappy, talked about a few circumstances that'd been bothering her at school, and then she made a small remark about how I was watching movies without a care in the world while she was sitting in our dark room all by herself."

Knowing all that she did about her best friend, Hibari gave Yagyū a sad smile while Mirai quietly asked, "And… you think that's what this is about?" and lowered her eye in a troubled manner, "Little Mirai wanted to stay up late too or, no, she was scared of the dark? Is that what this is about?"

"Just as Nozomi was afraid to be alone," said Yagyū in a softer and much more empathetic voice, "you're afraid of distortion, aren't you?"

At first, Mirai blew a hot breath of air out of her nose and crossed her arms in defiance. Yet, just as a remark was about to come out of her mouth, she lowered her hands and hugged her elbows as she commented, "I am…" before she balled up a fist and raised it, "If you tease me about it, I will punch you! I swear to everything holy on this Earth, I will deck you so hard in the mouth that you won't even be able to gush about Hibari again."

While the aforementioned girl jumped in surprise from the lash, Yagyū simply answered, "I won't tease you about it."

Clenching her eye closed to process the assurance, Mirai soon took another breath and mumbled, "But… even if you probably do want to tease me about it-"

"I don't."

"-you can't deny-, nobody can deny that distortion is scary." Bringing up her knees to hug them, the smaller girl murmured, "I'm so used to being able to fight something head on… or fixing a device or pursuing some goal… regardless, I'm used to being hands-on with a clear goal for me to meet." After a few seconds she lowered her eye, "But distortion is something I can't do anything about… As far as I know, there's literally nothing that I can do… and, if it gets the chance, it'll get me after some time… and I won't even know it."

"That's why we're looking out for one another," replied Yagyū in her still gentle voice, "We'll watch out for any changes in behavior and make sure that it doesn't catch us by surprise. Then, once we suspect it, everyone's going to act."

"Why not now?" asked Mirai, her voice barely remaining steady as her hands trembled a bit, "Why do we need to… wait out distortion-, I know that jerk is waiting for us to trust him and all but… for crying out loud, we know that he's capable of it." After a brief moment of silence, she spouted, "We've even came in his defense when Oda came… What more trust is he waiting for?"

"Ask him when he gets home," said Yagyū in a voice that reflected no fear, "I'm no expert on distortion nor what it takes to fix it, so I can't answer your concerns on that," before she looked Mirai dead in the eye and asked, "But, to try and offer some kind of… answer… from what he told us, it will take all of our trust in him. Unless you're Asuka, quite apparently, that kind of trust doesn't just grow overnight."

"But I do trust him!" spouted Mirai as she frustratedly raised her voice, "Why else would I come to his defense!?"

"You trust him enough as an ally to defend him, yes… but can you really say that you trust him with no doubt in you mind?" asked Yagyū. The smaller girl had to take a moment to read into the question before she bared her teeth to growl something. Not at all willing to let her point be missed, the white-haired girl quickly pressed on, "Remember that trust is a conscious and subconscious thing. Even if we choose to come help out of our own accord, there's still the matter of whether or not we do so instinctually… Like a complicated trust fall, we'd need to believe that he's both capable and willing to save us once we go down." Tightening her lips in a stern manner, Yagyū shook her head, "And, even now, I know that I have my own conscious doubts about him… and that I'm not alone when I say that," before she looked at Mirai again to ask, "Now, on a subconscious level, how many people can you say trust him without hesitation? Without any possible doubt?"

A deeper voice chimed in, "I see where you're coming from but I think you're taking it a bit too far."

The three girls turned their heads up toward Murakumo, who was approaching from the apartment after a day of drawing. Mirai, caught off guard and not wanting her flustered state to be made known, sharply demanded, "Butt out! We're talking about something important over here!"

"And I want to throw in my piece," stated Murakumo.

"Go ahead," replied Yagyū, who earned a look of ire from Mirai in return.

Offering a curt nod, the masked girl spoke in a cool tone, "Now, I'm no psychologist but I'm pretty sure that doubt is in just about any course of action a sane person takes." She gestured to the cards on the ground, "If you're ever balancing yourself between two moves in a game, you're expressing doubt between two different choices and are trying to decide on the best one," before crossing her arms, "Certainly, when she was in the infirmary with the guy, Asuka must have had some kind of doubt. Doubly so, since we treated him like an enemy at the time."

"I'd refute that," said Yagyū in a monotone voice, "by saying that Asuka is Asuka. Wonderful in all her ways but way too naïve and trusting for her own good… Just look at how quickly she became close to Homura. Whatever he said to her back then, she probably took it at face value and believed him straight away with any lingering doubts slipping away."

Murakumo grunted from under her mask and said with a slight shake of her head, "I'm not sure I'd completely believe that," before giving a shrug, "but we can just ask her about that now."

Mirai tilted her head, "What?"

"She's coming up the sidewalk," replied Murakumo as she pointed, "She and the rest of the love… hexagon."

Hibari was the first to spring to her feet to peek down the way and, true to the masked girl's words, the six teens were drearily making their way down the sidewalk with a whole mix of expressions. Leading the pack, the young man's face was blank as it usually was with a hint of irritation, if his lowered eyebrows gave any hints. Following close behind, Homura and Asuka were following along like puppies that'd just been shamed for chewing up the house. Miyabi held a bit more pride to her step, though the smile that she kept trying to put on her face kept falling off due to a bit of shakiness in her jaw. Yumi's expression remained solid with a forced smile and narrowed eyes, as though some horror movie villain had just jumped out, scared the life from her, and she had no idea how to react. Finally, Murasaki was trudging along at the rear while wrapping and unwrapping her lengthy hair around her face, though the expression hidden beneath was evidently as uneasy as the rest of the group.

Trying to muster up as much cheer for the oncoming group as possible, Hibari closed her eyes, clapped her hands together, and asked as they arrived onto the lot, "And how did your guys' talk go today?"

"Failed," replied the young man in a straight voice, stopping himself just in front of her.

"Ah…" Hibari froze for a moment before asking cheerfully, "But at least you managed to make some solid progress, right?"

"Nope."

The pink-haired girl stood silently with a smile on her face for a few solid seconds before asking, "We're all still good friends?"

"Actually," the young man turned around to the group, "they've been placed on the 'do not speak to me until I've calmed down' list."

"What went wrong?" asked Yagyū, who peeked her head out from beside Hibari.

The girls behind the young man averted their gazes, fearing the incoming judgement, as he explained quickly, "Apparently, rejecting a group of people while offering an honest explanation as to why you're rejecting them is code for," and turned his head around to yell at the assailants, "TACKLE, CRUSH, AND ASSAULT HIM!"

Homura shifted her shoulders back and forth, "We got a little ahead of ourselves…"

"Just a little then?" spat the young man before he wiped his lips and shook his head, "All that aside, there goes whatever romantic first kiss I had in my future."

From under her mask, Murakumo made a sound that could have either have been a laugh or a muffled sigh. Either way, she walked around the group to Yumi and asked, "So you guys stole his first kiss? Can't say I expected that of you."

Feeling like she got punched in the stomach by the overall neutral remark, Yumi's forced smile fell away as she murmured, "I… didn't want to lose."

While the young man made a remark under his breath in return, Murakumo asked, "Did you at least get there first?"

Yumi looked away in shame, "No idea."

"Make sure you tell me about that and the drama later."

Letting out a heated sneer, the young man grumbled, "Interested to hear the tale of my violation?"

"A bit dramatic, putting it that way," Murakumo turned to him, "I thought boys were eager to get kisses from attractive women."

"And I thought all women played with dolls, did each other's hair, and fretted over the makeup that they put on their face," snarked the young man before his irritated expression fell flat, "but then I turned five."

She gave a nod and raised her hands, "I've got you, I've got you… I didn't mean to strike a chord," before she turned to Yumi, "though, I still want to hear the story."

Drooping his eyes with a bit of resignation, the young man murmured, "I'm sitting this retelling out… I'm eating, doing my homework, putting a bit more work into my glasses, and going to bed." From behind, it looked as though Asuka and Murasaki were about to call out to him, perhaps to apologize for the umpteenth time, but were thwarted when Mirai quickly pounced toward him and aggressively clutched his sleeve without a word. Stopped and turning an eye down to her, the young man adopted a perplexed look before frustration slipped back onto his face, "What?" When she said nothing, curling her lips down in a manner that said she was angry, he narrowed his eyes and repeated, "What? Are we talking, glaring-, what do you want?"

"Am I good to have my distortion cleared yet?" Mirai asked abrasively.

The young man blinked before saying in a low voice, "It's been about a little over a week or so since we conferred on this matter? A week and a half? Trust doesn't build that fast."

The shorter girl pointed to Asuka, "It did for her! And she had spoken to you for less than five minutes by that point!"

"If at all," mumbled the young man before he pinched the bridge of his nose and said in a clear voice, "Look, Asuka is Asuka," Yagyū smirked toward Murakumo, who gave a shrug, while the aforementioned brunette felt as though she were being attacked on multiple angles, "and the average person doesn't build trust that fast."

"You're saying that we're average?" challenged Mirai, hoping to fluster the boy by reinterpreting his statement into an indirect insult.

"Yes," said the young man before he turned around to walk toward the apartment.

Frustrated with the fact that her tactic didn't work, Mirai tightened her grip on his sleeve and demanded, "Just check! Check and see if I'm ready, nearly ready, or whatever! Do it!"

Cursing under his breath, the young man turned around and threw up his free arm, "Alright, alright, just calm down and-, would you let go!" and waited for Mirai to release him. But, when she just stepped a foot onto one of his shoes and gestured to her forehead, he narrowed his eyes on her and ordered, "That's my dominant arm and I do corrections better with it. Let go!" Mirai still didn't release him and the veins of frustration began to intensify on his forehead. Balling up his other fist and raising it toward her, he threatened, "You have until the count of fucking three to release my arm before I lose my DAMNED MIND!"

"Do your worst," growled Mirai with a sadistic smirk, revealing her intention to deliberately infuriate him.

As he let out a hot breath of air that steamed from his nose, everyone else took a step back from the young man in fear that he may strangle Mirai. But, instead, he just lowered his fist and plainly asked, "Would you please let go of my good arm so that I can check your distortion, you ever so wonderful person…"

Releasing the young man with a feeling of triumph, Mirai smirked and craned her head forward while internally celebrating the success of her plot. As he rested a hand against her head, doing whatever he was doing, she reveled in the genius of her self-trickery. By pushing the boy to the brink of his tolerance, where most people would either walk away or would get physical, he still remained as she anticipated and forced himself to calm down. In doing so, Mirai's subconscious would have to receive a little boost in confidence for him, making a successful correction all the more likely. After all, if someone refrained from getting physical in a severely frustrating moment and even managed to cool themselves down once everything was said and done, some kind of trust had to be brewed from that.

"You don't trust me enough," stated the young man without a hint of surprise before he lowered his hand from the girl's head.

Thrown off by the surprising declaration, Mirai latched onto the young man's sleeve again while angrily yelling, "Why!? After all that!? AFTER ALL THAT!? You still can't do it!? Even after all of-, C'MON!" and was heaving her body back and forth. After a moment, she released one hand to point a finger in the young man's face, "It's because you swore at me, I bet! Why are you getting angry me-, at all of us!? Shouldn't you be gaining our trust, idiot!?" While the boy's eyes stared at her like she was some pathetic pup in a cardboard box, she continued to rant and rave, "Get on your knees and prostrate yourself to all of us! Apologize! Suck up to us! Tell us how great we are! SOMETHING! Just make up for that failure!"

After her last sentence, Mirai was completely out of breath and collapsed to the concrete below while taking heavy breaths. The young man kneeled down to her and asked, "Is it all out of your system?"

"Not even remotely…" wheezed the girl before she gave a thumbs up, "But that's as close as it'll get… for today…"

"Alright," said the young man as he stood up and turned to move toward the apartment, only stopping to retort back to her, "Oh, and if people giving you compliments and gifts earns your trust, you may want to stay away from the white van that creeps around corners… Just saying," before continuing on his merry way.

Mirai wanted to move her hands to make a rude gesture but, under the weight of her exhaustion, settled for laying down against the cold concrete. Then, disturbing her peaceful rest, Homura suddenly added, "If you're out of breath just because you were shouting then we need to get back to training. You might be getting flabby."

"Oh~," the smaller girl raised her head, "bite me, you lusty lewd girl… Go force yourself onto your boytoy… or, to give him a break, you can try Asuka next…"

While the brunette let out a surprised noise, casting a wary gaze at Homura, the renegade raised a finger to offer rebuttal before she realized that she had no ammo nor armor. Instead, she let out a sigh of surrender and mumbled, "Carry on," before walking away in a slump. Asuka followed after her, hoping to discuss the day's happenings with her best friend and how they were going to move forward… especially after their agreed arrangement in regards to the young man.

Miyabi, on the other hand, groaned and whispered to herself quietly, "…live to fight another day… I'll live to fight another day…" and sauntered off while Murasaki, who was completely tangled in the hair that she was wrapping around herself, stumbled along toward her own tent so that she could convey her rejection to Bebeby, who'd stayed behind to give her master space.

Left to her own devices, Yumi sighed and was about to walk off before Murakumo took hold of her shoulder and said, "C'mon. Let's see hear the story and see if there's no room for recovery."

With everyone having finally settled down, with only the sound of the young man and Jasmine briefly getting into it about Miki filling the air, the area around the apartment found a peace that inspired a slight jealousy within Sato, who watched through a pair of binoculars from afar. She laid prone on the roof of a building with a great view of the area, covered only by a cheap gravel blanket to camouflage herself. But, realizing that there was no way for her to kill the young man and get away with it without the shinobi on her tail, she decided that she would have to rely on her plan for the following day.

While climbing down and making her way home, Sato's thought process dwelled on one infuriating thing: Miki stabbing her right in the back with his traitorous words. She'd watched from afar as he walked with the young man, trailed ways behind the pair as the short brunette was pulled into an alley after he admitted to be a dignitary, and listened to him sell out her plan as she walked on by. While it was fortunate that she kept walking, seeing as the shinobi quickly rushed past without any signs of recognizing her, there was still one big problem…

The dignitary hierarchy demanded that Sato either produced an infiltrator's body by the end of Thursday or she'd be forcefully interrogated until she revealed the young man's details. While it would certainly be safer for her to just give the boy up and await the next infiltrator for her to take on, she just couldn't look away from the bounty that lingered over his head: a ten year allowance that, if used smartly, could be saved until she could move away from her parents' home and into her own apartment. From there, Sato could comfortably live her life as a shut-in until the money dried up and she had to go hunting for infiltrators again, though that would be years off. It was either that or, by willful surrender of the boy's information, she could get a lump sum that would allow her to buy a few meals at an expensive restaurant while a different leach took on the task of assassinating him… the choice between the two was more than easy enough.

But Sato was way too arrogant about the whole matter and screwed everything up. She had the knowledge of the young man's residence, she had the weapons to kill him, and she had the element of surprise… Then, due to her stupid desire to do things quickly and quietly without attracting public attention, she dragged him into an alley and beat him with an improvised pipe until she was sure that he would slip into the crevice of death on his own. After that, the playing field was leveled. The young man was still alive with the busted in portion of his head magically healed somehow and his residence had been under constant watch from the shinobi ever since. Without the element of surprise, all Sato had was her weapons… but how good of a fight could she put up against the bunch of girls protecting the boy?

Life sucked for Sato Hazuki before… but, at that moment, she was being boated around in a tsunami of sewage without a paddle. If she didn't have the young man by the end of the next day, her life would be done…

Stepping through the front door to her simple house, Sato said nothing as she passed through the hallway and made straight for the stairs. She took a brief glance into the living room, spotting her mother and father watching television without any care or regard for the world outside of their home. Even when they were informed that Sato had defied the hierarchy and that she could potentially be brutally interrogated for information, they offered her a simple, "Tell them if you'd like to," and went back to watching their television. There were no expressions of concern nor was there any pleading to just reveal the infiltrator's information. Rather than trouble themselves with any of that, what was the first thing that the two did when they got back from their sit down with dignitary higherups…? They binged through a Russian game show that involved questions, water guns, and partial nudity. Even while Sato was apologetically bowing her head to them, mostly out of habit, they blew off the entire matter regarding her and lost themselves in a world far different than their own.

Realizing that she was still completely alone in her endeavor, Sato just rushed upstairs to her room so that she could solidify her plan for the next day. Along the way, she could hear her younger brother, Hibeki, shouting at a video game in his room. Slightly irrational as it was, Sato was a bit hurt that he wasn't there to greet her. The eleven-year-old jumped into arms with tears in his eyes the other day and the day before, asking after her to see if she would be okay with the ongoing crisis at hand… Yet, just like their parents, it seemed as though he had succumbed to his desire to also escape the world.

Sato truly couldn't blame him too much since she'd probably do the same thing. Perhaps, running through all of their blood, was a complete hatred for the world outside of their personal lives. All of them were simple people who desired nothing more than a nine-to-five dedication that they hated for the purpose of coming home to relax the night away. Where some people dreamed of big vacations overseas or weeklong stays at extravagant water parks, the Hazuki family was one that thanked the Heavens in great earnest for three-day weekends to spend at home. It was a lonely life for all of them, though it was also the safest and most comfortable.

But, as she sat down at her desk and held her head as the tears began to well up, Sato couldn't help but believe that their lifestyle was inept when it came to times of crisis. Without any of the bonds that usually chained other families together, Sato had become far too fixated on cashing in the bounty for the infiltrator so that she could move out and live her own life. Without experiencing any other major hardships in their lives, her parents could only continue to ignore their daughter's plight after her failure just like they did with everything else that was happening around the world. Without any real way to help or convey one another's feelings, how could Sato expect Hibeki to set aside his fantastical escape from cruel reality after all of his previous efforts for interaction in the past had failed? If memory served, Sato had even pushed away the boy, who was certainly the closest to their grandmother, when the old woman passed away. If nothing else, the girl's fate was practically deserved… She offered no help to anyone but herself before and, in turn, she would receive none when she needed it either.

Letting out a wavering breath, Sato took off her round spectacles and looked into the mirror hanging above her desk. After a moment of observing her long and flowing brown hair, she waved a hand through it as she remembered simpler times. Though she was happy to let her mother give a "small makeover" and change her appearance sometime before the beginning of the school year, Sato missed the pigtails she once had. Admittedly, they weren't much when they came to the average person's standards for beauty, but they were easy to maintain and extremely comfortable… Plus, they went best with the frames of Sato's glasses, the same that her grandmother passed onto her.

Unable to look at the reflection that had changed so little but also so much in a few short weeks, Sato let out a single sob and covered her mouth as the tears began to come down. The minutes ticked by and her fear for whatever would come the next day grew exponentially. Would she be taken down by the young man, who was expecting her coming attack by that point? Or, after killing the boy, would those shinobi beat and slaughter her until she was barely recognizable? Perhaps she'd fail altogether or cower away at the last moment, resigning herself to whatever unspeakable actions the hierarchy deemed necessary. Maybe she could try to play on their empathy and offer up the young man then, but it wouldn't change the result: they'd send a message to any other dignitary who'd hold back essential information by punishing her in a horribly gruesome way.

Sato coughed once and cleared her throat, "Get a grip…" and looked up into the mirror to see her puffy red eyes staring back at her, "It's not done… it's not done…" However defeated she may have felt, that girl on the border of Hell knew that she couldn't give up fighting. Even if it was for a cause that she had no faith or belief in, Sato didn't want to suffer nor did she want to die. As selfish as it was for her to go after the young man in the way that she did the first time, her circumstances had turned extremely critical. At first, it was for some kind of escape to her own life… But then it became a matter of survival.

Sato paced around the room for a while, taking the time to ponder whatever strategies came to mind. She recalled every story that her grandfather recalled from the dignitaries' initial battles against both the shinobi and infiltrators, hoping to get some sort of inspiration or idea from the past. Remembering that old man who was always so proud of what he and his friends had done, sounding just as a wizened veteran recalling war stories would, Sato couldn't help but shake her head with a grim look on her face. Every story where he spoke of eluding the law in spectacular fashion, obliterating the mind of a shinobi, or cornering an infiltrator to slay him, he'd always get the same deluded look of grandeur on his face. While Sato wasn't a fool like he was, knowing fully well that the dignitaries that she was born into were nothing more than a bunch of overambitious terrorists in hiding, those stories were both interesting and horrifying… especially with how doubtless and radical the man sounded.

Most relevant for her, however, was her grandfather's tales of guerilla warfare, where the 'dirtiest' of tactics came out from one small force against an armada of foes. Sato remembered what the old man said word-for-word, "I'd only need to slam the bastards in the gut…! Then I need only a split second to determine if they'll be able to counter me immediately or if I have an opening. If they can still aim their guns, I got the hell out of there! Live to fight another day, I say… But if they're doubled over, trying to catch their breaths…" He always cackled after that line, either from genuine sadistic amusement from his past actions or from some maddened guilt that may have nested far within. Regardless, those words resonated with Sato in that moment.

Dragging a long breath and putting her glasses back on, Sato ducked underneath her desk and felt around. Once she found the small pencil tip thin switch behind her desk's back leg, a small click could be heard. Without any patience, Sato pushed in a small hidden compartment door and reached for a metal strongbox that was hidden inside. She ticked a few numbers to open the combination lock before popping it open. Then, as though she were holding a relic capable of saving her life, she carefully reached in and pulled out her great grandfather's pistol: the infamous Type 14 Nambu. With that particular one having been said to have taken the lives of some odd American Marines during the Battle of Peleliu, Sato was more fixated on the modifications her grandfather added onto it.

The grappling gun that had been melted and fixed into the open underside of the barrel was extremely thin, especially when compared to more modernized designs. Yet, despite however much noise the grinding metal wire made as it shot out from the reel at the side of the weapon's ejection port, the design was much more suitable for active combat. Regardless of whatever mud or debris tried to jam the mechanism, its aggressive design was able to chip and clean away anything that got into the barrel.

Then there was the muzzle brake, which was also melted and embedded into the pistol's modified design. Whoever Sato's grandfather consulted for that particular design had to have been an unparalleled artist of weaponry due to how much that add-on put other recoil control methods to shame. Even if she were flying through the air at highspeed and under great stress, all the girl had to do was aim and pull the trigger as many times as she wanted to. By the fantastic mix of science and micromanaged design, the kick from that pistol was equivalent to a slight poke, provided that the handler was familiar with how to properly hold a weapon in a single hand.

Between those two modifications alone and the large caliber rounds that the barrel was designed to use, Sato was holding a weapon of the greatest magnitude. While she was more sure that her grandfather had made up most of the heroic tales of his father, Sato promised herself that she would use the masterwork tool to achieve her goal and escape from danger…

Then she could live her life and be free from the cage that she had surrendered herself to for so long. No longer would she have to live under the roof of people who made her feel lonelier than nobody at all… No longer would she need to head out to the factory district each month to get a rant from the hierarchy about how she was doing absolutely nothing for dignitaries… They wouldn't need to talk about their grand scheme to her ever again. After all, she would be contributing to their cause and, if her parents' history remained tried and true, that would be enough to make them back off.

April 23 – "Some families are structured to be closely united while others focus on giving everyone space. In regards to either case, someone would have to be a complete idiot to lay an offensive hand on anyone from within a proper family because, if done, the members of that family, blood or no, will do everything in their power to see their attacker's fall… By any means necessary."

Sato wasn't at school and that fact by itself would have put the young man on edge. But, just as his luck would demand, there was also other matters to eat away at him. Most notably, he was in a loop of constantly trading awkward looks with Miki while dwelling on the incident from the other day and the personal anger that he felt for the girls who assaulted him.

Pushing off the fact that Miki had freshly come out about his status as a dignitary at the time, the young man hated it when unplanned events, especially serious ones like his first kiss, popped up with no room for argument to be put off. Doubly so if the disruptors were well aware of the circumstances going on. If he weren't used to the girls' springy antics, from the surprise jog to a random abduction, he would have lashed out against the lot of them again that same morning before he left for school… Yet, their antics seemed to just be the way they did things. Sometimes, a random thing would just pop into their heads and they couldn't get it out until they did it. The young man respected the initiative that came with the matter. He hated the unexpected surprises but, still, there was that initiative… and he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't especially flattered.

Perhaps the young man wouldn't have been so angry if he wasn't so confused. While he did save them from distortion, that by itself along with the few other things about him that they'd mentioned couldn't warrant such determined and borderline obsessive behavior. He wondered, once again, if he screwed up their corrections. Unfortunately for his desire to find an answer, that thought was proven wrong by the lack of other cases throughout history and the fact that Murasaki was also joining in. Thus, the young man, who considered himself to be nothing more than a forward and otherwise average individual, was left to wonder… Why him and with such ferocity?

But, after a day full of lamenting thoughts was ended by the final bell, the young man pushed aside his pondering and pulled Miki aside by the arm to whispered, "I need to follow up with you about that thing from yesterday."

With wide and nervous eyes, Miki forced a tense grin onto his face and murmured, "Yeah… I planned for something like that too…"

Ignoring the fact that Takatsukasa was watching their quiet exchange, perhaps wondering if the young man was spilling the beans about what he did for a profession, the pair quickly left the classroom. They ignored everything else from that point onward. Whether a teacher called for them to slow down or when Ebi tried to say something, the two just pushed past everything and scurried through the halls until they were out of the school. The young man, in particular, was in so much of a rush that he almost forgot the result of his… discussion with Jasmine the other day, when the matter of Miki and Sato had come up.

Stopping for a moment at the stairs that led down to the sidewalk, the young man glanced up to the buildings above and spotted Ikaruga. From the edge of the fire escape that she stood upon, she gave him a wave and gestured for him to continue on while she continued to direct everyone by phone. If they were organized correctly, Ikaruga's presence also meant that Shiki, Katsuragi, Ryōbi, and Hikage were in hiding on the buildings nearby. Everyone else was either stationed in some innocuous locations around the next few blocks to keep an eye out for trouble or were taking a break at a place nearby after a day of supervising the school. To top it all off, if trouble did arise, there were a few small dumpsters that had been arranged for the young man to hide in while everyone went after Sato. It was all a bunch of paranoid measures for security but, if it meant thwarting whatever plan Sato had in mind, it was well required.

The young man and Miki began to make their way down the sidewalk in silence, with only the crowds and city noises filling the air. Though, as if some kind of switch was flicked, a paranoid feeling simultaneously overcame the two. Even if neither one had said a thing, the alarmed looks on one another's faces said well enough: there was a feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Miki's breaths grew heavy and occasionally clenched his eyes closed, either in prayer for safety or because beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead and into his vision. On the other hand, the young man kept his mind cool and collected. His eyes jotted from one pedestrian to the next, wondering if Sato was going to use her short stature to creep up on the two. Then he looked up to the windows of the surrounding buildings, wondering if she maybe had a rifle to snipe him. If there was a figurative crevice for Sato to leap out from, he looked at it and watched out for it like a hawk. After all, the young man only knew one thing for such a situation: whether it was dignitaries, infiltrators, or shinobi, keeping their presence as unknown as possible was the ultimate priority. A knife in a crowd of people couldn't be easily traced back to its wielder after it met its target, making it a likely tactic for Sato to use. A rifle from a building on a loud street full of shouting people would take time for its location to be narrowed down. With the technology that the three secret groups had, each of them would be capable of escape before the search parties and police even arrived… and that meant Sato was too.

Which was why the young man was so surprised when he heard the first pop of a high caliber pistol from behind him. He and Miki's heads whipped around to see Sato with her face covered by a ski mask in the air, wearing a bandolier and swinging with a grappling gun in one hand while pointing a pistol into the air with the other. Amidst all of that, the surrounding crowds' shouts and chatter immediately broke down into cries and screams in response to the sound of the firearm. Some people dived to the ground and covered their heads while others scrambled for alleyways or doors into buildings. Then, there were some who pointed their fingers up to Sato, whose face was completely covered and unrecognizable. The young man almost called himself crazy when the thought occurred to him that Sato was going loud in the middle of a city street where hundreds of witnesses could see her. But, when she took aim, he dropped all lines of thought and dove for the ground, pulling Miki down with him. Her first shot was a warning to the civilian crowd and her second would be the killer.

If Murakumo, who was stationed and already transformed nearby, hadn't been on the scene, the young man certainly would have been killed. When Sato fired her next round, the masked girl had already anticipated the path of trajectory and angled her wide cleaver forward and covered the boy. The bullet collided into the metal and ricocheted into one of the horns on Murakumo's mask, which she fixed back into place afterward. Sato fired another couple of rounds but, quickly analyzing the situation, backed off for a moment. She fired the hook of her gun and let herself get flung higher up into the air before arcing her other grappling device downward.

Murakumo raised her spear over her shoulder, heaved it backwards, and launched it like a javelin. Reacting quickly, Sato fired her grappling gun while disconnecting the other's anchor. Her body swung around just enough to skirt off to the side of the spear, which she slammed the shaft of with the butt of her weapon. Standing over the young man and Miki, Murakumo called, "You know where to go!" and readied her cleaver to anticipate the next few bullets. During all of that, the girls stationed above were already moving after Sato while the others on the surrounding blocks began to converge toward the street.

Remembering the dumpster that had been assigned to him for hiding, since he wasn't carrying any weapons or tools to fight back, the young man kicked himself up and grabbed Miki, "On your feet! On your feet!" and the two began to run off. There were a few bullets fired that caused them both to flinch, though the sound of ringing metal from Murakumo's blade let them know that they were being protecting.

Sato swore under her breath, realizing that she was losing her window of attack thanks to the plan the shinobi and the young man had set in place. Watching the masked shinobi backing herself up with the two fleeing boys behind her, the spectacled girl realized quickly that she had to act according… However, she also knew that there had to have been other shinobi nearby. Though she was reluctant to do so, Sato had to resort to despicable measures in order to keep them off during her retreat.

Using the grappling gun to arc her descent away from Murakumo, the dignitary emptied the rest of her bullets before ejecting the clip and swiping the gun into the bandolier on her chest in order to reload. Then she fired another anchor and swung herself back toward Murakumo. A few shinobi jumped out from nowhere, though Sato was fortunate to be just high enough and out of their reach. The only real opposition she faced was Murakumo, though that would soon be changed.

Sato raised her pistol and fired a few rounds at the masked girl, who'd raised her cleaver again and used it like a shield. By the time the dignitary was meters away, Murakumo was already prepared to twist it around and slice it into the girl. After another bullet collided into the blade, the masked girl began to perfectly maneuver it around into the path that she believed Sato would be flying for.

Then, surprisingly, Sato holstered one of her grappling guns. Once the anchor of the other was disengaged, the dignitary was nothing more than an oncoming missile that was straight on target. Though the masked shinobi adjusted the angle of her cleaver in the best way she could, Sato swung her grappling gun to the side once she was a meter away. As a result, both weapons collided and grinded together for the briefest of moments, with the broad side Murakumo's blade getting pushed away by the gun.

The girl realized what was happening when Sato extended her other arm forward. Remembering the frightening description of the dignitaries' abilities when it came to corrections, Murakumo knew what Sato was trying to do and was immediately terrified of what was about to happen.

Their bodies slammed together, with Sato getting a firm grasp onto one of the horns of the shinobi's mask. Hearing the commotion, the young man turned around just in time to see the two girls rolling across the concrete together before Sato successfully yanked off the mask. Despite not having seen Murakumo's face even once, the young man recognized the knowing look of fright in her wide eyes and tightened lips. On their final roll together, Sato merely grazed her fingers against the girl's forehead before she was shoved off… though it was already too late.

Though the young man wanted to move straight for Murakumo to check her condition, Sato landed on the street and immediately moved to shoot at him despite having been dazed by the collision and rolling. She fired a few shots at him while he dove to the ground behind a light pole. But, knowing for fact that the other shinobi would be on her head, Sato fired her grappling gun into the air while firing the last few rounds in her magazine towards the young man. But, upon hearing the click of her pistol, she recognized her failure when the boy looked back up at her while very heavily breathing.

Hoping to simply lose the shinobi in an effort to prolong her life for a while more, Sato swung away with the sounds of her grappling hooks echoing through the street while a few shinobi gave chase after her. Then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it seemed to be over. By the time Murakumo's spear had crashed into the ground with a loud ring, the civilians all around began to pick themselves up while wondering what had just happened.

Seeing that a few of her friends were still pursuing Sato, Yumi left behind the area where she was stationed on the far end of the block and dashed straight for Murakumo's lying form. However, the young man beat her there first and moved both of his hands to Murakumo's forehead, muttering incoherently under his breath. Remembering just how he described the horror that was a dignitary's correction, Yumi felt her eyes narrow in alarm as she quickened her pace and watched as Yozakura, Shiki, and Minori made it to their sister's side.

The young man's words echoed in all of their heads: "…A dignitary can be done in seconds… as spontaneous as they'd like it to be… damage to someone's mental state… they'll be left as they are… near-irreversible brain damage…"

Murakumo opened a blank eye and seemed to stare back up to her sisters, though that was only because she was looking to where her head was facing. Her mouth hung slightly open, allowing for some drool to dribble out. Her entire body remained completely motionless, even as her shinobi transformation came undone due to the lack of focused energy to fuel it. What stole everyone's breath most, including the young man's, was when Murakumo's eyes began to water up and tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

In the split-second that Sato had made contact with her forehead, a dignitary correction had taken place… The distortion was gone along with the rest of Murakumo's mind.