MUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDA(x7pgs)

WRYYYYYYY


Of all the fancy restaurants Rock had the privilege of dining at, this one was by far the most high-class. Before going on tour, Rock would never have dreamed of fine dining at this calibre. He felt it was too far away from him. He was a home chef, and obviously not a particularly good one given how easily his father fell back into his McDonald's habit.

tuxes everywhere… I'm underdressed. Again.

The Sydney hotel's restaurant was a fairly typical buffet. Mashed potatoes, grilled sausages, tasty, but uninspired stuff. Hong Kong's "Deem Saum" was fantastic, but the experience was a bit spoiled by the tremendous amount of farm animal genitalia on the menu - which he had accidentally ordered. He also didn't know how to use chopsticks and thus ate with all the grace and finesse of a barbarian.

Now, despite his rather… frazzled state… he found himself seated on a white leather sofa with his back to the modern fireplace. This restaurant didn't have chairs. It had sofas. He was sharing one with his drunk boss. Across from them was Yashiro - who had been observing Rock carefully for the past twenty minutes. Rock was trying to behave as un-suspiciously as possible and was forcing himself to admire the restaurant decor to keep his mind off his recent murder.

Candles everywhere… are they real? They smell like vanilla… dammit is he still staring at me? I wish I could change my shirt…

Rock sighed and looked sheepishly down at himself. His current outfit was possibly the worst he had ever worn in public. Smelly gym clothes bathed in equal parts sweat and blood. The hospital didn't give him a new shirt before they taxi'd him back to the hotel, and Rock didn't have the guts to go wandering on the street with a credit card in search of new clothes, so he intended to change when he got to his hotel room. Naturally, he didn't make it there before he was pulled into the fanciest restaurant he'd ever stepped foot in. To make things worse, for the first time in his life, Rock Howard was dressed more inappropriately than Iori Yagami….If only marginally.

A tiger print wifebeater that says "Ask Me about my Feminist Agenda"... where does he get this shit?

Iori had apparently noticed Rock looking in his direction, (really, Rock was just trying to look anywhere besides for in Yashiro's direction) and laid the menu flat to read him the options. He had his new phone? -'s flashlight shining down on the menu and disrupting the restaurant's carefully arranged ambient lighting.

"The... meat today? … prime rib with horseradish sauce… lobster tail, seafood… octopus, Urchins, crab oil… "

Rock pretended to be engaged, because - by the looks of it - Yashiro wasn't convinced by his 'everything is normal' act. Perhaps it was because when they first locked eyes in front of the elevator, Rock had begun trembling so violently he looked like he had parkinson's. Maybe it had been too obvious he was trying to keep Iori between himself and Yashiro on their walk through the lobby. Maybe it was the giant unexplained bloodstain on his shirt...

Ah shit… what am I supposed to say if he asks me…

Iori hadn't asked him about it because Iori smelled like alcohol. He wouldn't be doing anything remotely reasonable for the next half an hour. Yashiro, on the other hand, was dead sober - and was gazing at him with an intense and serious stare. Rock refused to meet his eyes.

"No sheep dong here for you bud… sorry, but jellyfish, and snow pea… liver!"

Shermie was dead. Rock had killed her with his own two hands. Yashiro had yet to find out, but clearly he had been looking for her when he came down the elevator not twenty minutes ago. Perhaps he had expected her to return by now? Perhaps he wasn't in on the plan at all - and was just confused… Well, if he knew then obviously he would have come help her fight… right?

"Liver! Hey, Liver!"

Given Yashiro had spent the day with Iori doing concert set up, then surely it was safe to say he had nothing to do with Rock's kidnapping. Yashiro was quite attached to Shermie, so naturally he would never let her go into a fight alone. He was likely just confused as to why Shermie wasn't in their hotel room… yeah, he has no idea that any of this happened.

Rock drew a breath and calmed his nerves. He set his mind to act on this assumption, and tried to relax… but the way Yashiro was glaring at him betrayed the man knew more than he was letting on. He opened his mouth to speak, and Rock prayed it was mere small talk.

"Where's your girlfriend, Rock? I'm surprised she's letting you eat with us."

Dammit.

Rock pretended to be extremely interested in the menu, and answered offhandedly.

"Oh, she uh…" Rock thought for a moment, "She got called home."

Silence. Silverware clinked faintly in the background. Rock could taste the bitter tension filling the air. It made him think he had just said something incriminating. He gulped and didn't meet Yashiro's eyes.

"She got sent home…hm."

Rock glanced over to his boss and grimaced. Terry had said Iori could protect him should CYS ever turn hostile. Normally that might have been the case, but currently Iori had his forehead pressed against his dinner plate, and he was muttering nonsense to himself. He wasn't going to do any protecting. In fact, he was a roadblock. If Rock wanted to escape this place and run, he would first need to clamber over his semi-conscious employer.

"For what reason did Whip get sent back to IKARI?"

"W-what?"

"Perhaps to tend her injuries?"

Rock paled. He replied forcefully to mask the tremor in his voice. Perhaps far too forcefully. His mind was racing a million miles per hour, but it didn't seem to matter. Yashiro seemed to know more than him. Everyone always knew more than him.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Just leav-... I don't know, okay? Stop asking."

Rock met Yashiro's gaze. What he saw in that man's eyes was deep and vicious. He looked like Shermie in her last moments. Dark, nasty, capable of infinite evil. It sent an involuntary shiver down Rock's spine.

Yashiro smiled at him. It was a nasty smile.

"You know where Shermie is."

Rock turned away. He felt a droplet of sweat run down the back of his neck.

"You know what happened to her. Tell me."

Silence. Rock stared down at the menu and cursed himself. He flinched as he heard the clack of something hard hit the table. He looked up.

A pebble?

Yashiro had pulled a small river stone from his pocket and placed it on the tablecloth before him. In the same breath, he plucked up a chopstick and poked Iori in the head. There was no reaction.

"You're on your own right now, Rock. Now… "

The pebble lifted off the tabletop, and before Rock's very eyes, it began to twist and elongate into an increasingly sharp corkscrew spear. It slowly turned toward Rock and took aim at his throat like a compass' needle searching for North. Yashiro tapped his fingers against the tabletop and glared him down. The needle began to spin like a drill.

"Tell me. Where is Shermie?"

Rock eyed the needle. He stuttered a reply.

"I...I don't-"

Yashiro interrupted him. The needle kept spinning

"Ah, no… that's a dumb question. If Shermie were alive, Whip would be long dead, and you'd be sold to some trafficking ring. No… Tell me, who killed her."

The needle spun, it began gaining velocity until it's corkscrew grooves were nothing but a blur. Rock pushed himself against the back of the couch and gulped. He glanced over to his boss. Out like a light.

Yashiro's expression was beginning to grow more and more fierce. His voice became guttural, and Rock could swear he felt the earth tremble beneath his feet. The man spoke with little volume, but it was nevertheless terrifying. There was hate in his eyes. He hissed.

"Brat. Tell me. Was it your IKARI girlfriend? Or the blue haired bitch? An entire battalion of those bastards? Tell me where to find them! I'll send their base into the pits of hell!"

Rock's hands shook. He choked out his denial. Whip had risked her life for him, he wouldn't dare lie and put her life in danger.

"It wasn't them… It wasn't IKARI. Don't blame them!"

"Then who!?"

Yashiro's eyes were like a pair of live coals. He suddenly seemed so much larger than he was, as if his spectre had transcended his mortal body. He towered. Rock squeezed his eyes shut and lied.

"I don't know who… but it wasn't IKARI."

Silence.

Then, Yashiro's voice - which until this point had been a source of comfort and camaraderie to him - whispered, cold and dreadful.

"Then… you're useless."

The needle whistled as it flew.

"Farewell."


Lmao, Rock almost dies in every episode.

Nah jk.

Yag is out, but guess who isn't?

(lennyface)