Previously…
"How bad is that last woman?" Keitaro's voice was getting flatter.
"Critical," the medic admitted. "The wound requires a tourniquet. If she's delayed too long from getting to the hospital she may lose the leg or go terminal."
"I see." Anything else that Keitaro would have said was drowned out by the echoing reports of rifle fire. He stayed standing as everyone else flattened themselves to the ground, the little girl getting free from Katsuo and crawling over to her mother, whimpering all the while. Seeing that she was relatively safe and not interfering the medics let her be.
Walking over to a car parked by the curb, Keitaro saw that there were tracers coming again from behind the gangster's car, and some slow fire from the targeted storefront still holding them in place. He would have thought they had run out of ammo by this point, but he was apparently mistaken.
"Baka, get down! You'll get shot!" The older male medic snarled as he hugged the ground.
"You never hear the round that gets you," Keitaro replied absently. "If you hear the crack of the bullet it's already gone past." He then looked over to Katsuo and spoke. "Shatei, stay here," his voice an absolute command.
"Kyodai, what the hell are you doing?!" It was all Katsuo could do to not call Keitaro by his real name.
"Finishing this fight," answered Keitaro shortly. Stepping off the curb, he walked out from behind the cars, the bottom of his long dress coat and the ends of the knit scarf still wrapped around his face flapping in the increasing wind, the frustrated shout of "Goddamn it Akira!" coming from behind him as he began to slowly walk across the open road toward the gang members' cars.
Chiba City, Chiba Prefecture
Metro Tokyo, Japan
early March, Friday late afternoon
"Kuso, kuso kuso…" Katsuo could hardly believe his eyes as Keitaro walked into the middle of a gunfight, a pause in the gunfire making the slow blaring horn of a car alarm triggered by the explosion and the rising winds the only sounds. His deliberate pace brought him to the middle of the street before he came to a halt, the smoke from the burning vehicles visibly swirling around him as he stared at the car the gangsters with the automatic weapons were hiding behind, almost as if he was daring them to fire on him. It was a challenge they did not let pass, as a head popped up behind the car before leveling an AK rifle at him and firing, emptying the last ten rounds in the weapon's magazine.
Green tracers rounds shrieked toward the motionless figure before – to everyone's shock - the glowing bullets entered the swirling cone of wind and smoke surrounding him, and arced around and away from him. Keitaro paid the bullets no mind, instead turning his head to glance at the storefront that was the target of the gangsters.
Katsuo flinched when he felt three strong pulses of chi come from his friend, almost like sonar pings from a submarine movie. After a moment he realized what he was doing; Keitaro was sending a message to the people in the shop, but one that would only work if the inhabitants were chi sensitive, as most normal people would not know what the sensation they were feeling meant. The people in the shop presumably did, since to his surprise he felt two weak pulses in response come from the storefront. Keitaro gave a visible nod in reply before facing the gunmen in front of him again.
Suddenly it was all Katsuo could do to not grab his head and collapse to the ground as a sound that was a mix between a demonic shriek and Godzilla's infamous scream roared through the air. After a moment he realized it was not a sound per se, it was more felt than heard. But the emotion it provoked was unmistakable; it was horrified fear, the terror one felt when they were teetering on a ledge, the gut-clenching dread when there was a knife pointed at your eye, when all you could hear in your mind was imgonnadieimgonnadieimgonnadie! It was pure killing intent.
All around Katsuo everyone that was not flat on the ground suddenly were clutching their heads and crying out in fear and dismay. Normally people did not respond this way; instead they got nervous and anxious. People only reacted like this when they were directly targeted with ki, and that was when the projection was tightly focused on the target. The young oyabun could see that Keitaro was still facing away from him, toward the gangsters. That meant that the crushing fear everyone was feeling was merely the backwash from the projected ki aimed at the gunmen.
Nearly falling as another wave of killing intent roared forth, Katsuo could see that everyone was cringing and cowering on the ground now. The only other person that was not was the news cameraman, and that was only because he had deliberately fallen on top of a car hood and was using it to support his camera as it pointed at the lone man out in the open and the car beyond him. The female news reporter was curled up on the ground beside him, shaking so hard it looked like she was having a seizure. But Katsuo now could hear something beside the sound of the wind and the car alarm blaring the background, he could hear screams of fear and terror coming behind the car the gunmen were using, screams that were becoming those of fury.
It was at that moment that Katsuo realized what Keitaro was doing; he was using killing intent to drive the gunmen into a berserker rage and get them to leave their cover to attack him.
Misaka Shopping Plaza
Hinata City, Kanagawa Prefecture
Metro Tokyo, Japan
early March, Friday late afternoon
"Oh shit, oh shit oh shit…" It was a sign on how shaken all the girls were that no one reprimanded Sarah for her cursing.
By now the four girls were surrounded by a small crowd of onlookers watching the big screen TV in the electronics shop. The workers in the store had even turned up the volume so that the newscasters' commentary could be heard. It was the studio newsreaders that were doing the talking though, as the reporter on the ground had gone silent and the view from the camera had gone all shaky.
It was starting to look like things had gone sideways in almost literal fashion. There had been some blasts of severe static on screen and on the speakers that had almost drowned out the zoomed-in image on the TV screen, the lone man standing motionless in the middle of the street with the wind whipping around the tails of his coat and the end of his scarf. The same grey knitted scarf she had wrapped around his neck this morning before he left the Hinata Sou this morning, joking his Chow Yun Fat look was now complete.
"Goddamnit dork, what the fuck do you think you're doing..," Sarah snarled quietly between gritted teeth as she watched her sensei slowly walk toward the car the gunmen were hiding behind.
Keitaro started to walk toward the cars in front of him, his pace deliberate. The wind was picking up, producing a moaning sound that would not have been out of place in a Halloween film, causing the end of his scarf to flutter. All that was needed was for a tumbleweed to roll by, as unlikely as that seemed.
As the young man got within ten meters of the sheltering cars one of the gangsters finally broke. Lurching to his feet, his hands were clawing at his ears, his cheeks streaked with blood. Spinning around he caught sight of Keitaro standing a few meters away and screaming, he raised a Makarov pistol and began to fire as fast as he could pull the trigger.
Almost lazily Keitaro swayed left and right, the bullets flying through the space he had been in a mere half-second before. Four rounds went to his left and two to the right, caught in the roaring cyclone of wind that had formed around him and were deflected away.
The gangster kept pulling the trigger until no more shots were fired. Looking down at the slide he saw that it was locked open, showing an empty magazine. Roaring in frustration the man threw the pistol at Keitaro, who barely had to move to dodge the improvised projectile. Meanwhile the gangster pulled out a knife and rushed his opponent five meters away, who did not react until he was almost upon him.
Once the gangster was within a meter of him, Keitaro almost casually reached out and grabbed the man's wrist with his right hand. Taking a step back he yanked hard and twisted the wrist, breaking it before the gangster dropped the knife. Keitaro took one more step back and forced the man's arm into a twisted chicken-wing position before rolling the knife edge of his left hand with substantial force over the now horizontal upper arm. The gangster did not even have time to cry out before he was rapidly flipped forward at the waist and then even lower, his face slamming into the asphalt and knocking him out.
Hearing something whistling through the air, Keitaro barely had time to sidestep before something flew through the air where his head had been a moment before. Taking a few more steps back Keitaro could see what looked to be a long length of thin steel chain being pulled back toward a second man who had stepped out from behind the car in front of him.
After a moment the man had the chain coiled up in his off hand while he began to spin the loose end. Keitaro could see that there was a heavy padlock on the end of the chain, making the weapon effectively an improvised kusari-fundo, a chain weapon with weighed ends from Japanese martial arts.
Knowing what he was facing Keitaro changed his posture; instead of his apparently causal pose he was now in a semi-crouch, his empty hands coming up from his sides to about elbow height, his feet sliding along the ground as he began to circle to the side. The gangster began to mirror his steps while still twirling the chain, and after a moment Keitaro stopped as he came to an abrupt realization; if he kept circling he would wind up with his back to the gangsters' car, a massively bad idea.
Seeing that his plan was foiled, the gangster sent his chain flying in a flat horizontal arc at about waist height, leaving his opponent nowhere to dodge or sidestep. But those were not his only options; from his semi-flexed position Keitaro was able to jump a meter and a half straight up in the air, the lock and chain whistling under his feet before he dropped back onto the pavement. But this time he was not going to give him another opportunity; as soon as his feet touched the asphalt Keitaro sprinted forward and before the chain-wielding gangster could react he was within touch range, giving a devastating right cross to the jaw and instantly knocking him out.
Taking a step back from the two unconscious men on the ground Keitaro saw one more figure stand up from behind the car. Where the two men he had previously fought had been wearing black and red leather biker jackets over black t-shirts and blue jeans, this man was wearing a black knee length duster coat over baggy tan pants and a white t-shirt. He was also wearing a white hachimaki headband with a red rising sun emblem, but what drew everyone's attention was what he was holding in his right hand; an unsheathed and gleaming sword.
"Kuso, kuso kuso…!" This time it was not the American teen that was cussing, but the taller Japanese girl. Aki was staring wide-eyed at the TV screen, and Hikari had her hands in front of her mouth. Sarah was standing with her hands clenched at her side, her nails almost drawing blood from her palms. The blonde had glanced over earlier at her roommate to gauge her reaction, and observed that while Nyamo looked relatively calm, it was only to an onlooker that was not familiar with her normal expressions. The islander girl had obviously recognized who the figure on the TV was, but she had not said anything aloud while almost completely concealing her anxiety.
"Oh my god, he has a sword…" Hikari almost moaned as the gangster in the long coat walked out from behind the car and faced off with the man in the suit before him. "He's going to get killed!"
"Don't worry about it, Hikari-san. This guy's got it all under control." Sarah's words caused both native Japanese girls to stare at her incredulously, while Nyamo just glanced at her. The blonde girl's lips twitched slightly. "Have faith, it looks like he knows what he's doing." The fact that she had to force her hands to relax would have proved the lie in her words, but no one really noticed. "Oh look, the sword guy's making his play." The four girls quickly focused on the screen as the gangster began to dash forward with the sword held high toward his casually standing foe. "Bet the asshole gets dropped in two moves."
As soon as Keitaro saw that the gangster had gripped his sword and raised it into a high ready position, with both hands in front of his right shoulder, he knew he was dealing with an amateur. Or at least someone who had not reached dan ranking in kendo. The fact that he was running at him screaming did not help matters either. That tactic would work against untrained civilians; against someone like him it was laughable.
When he had seen the wannabe swordman's stance Keitaro had relaxed, going from his crouched ready position to his presumably casual posture again; presumably this contributed to his opponent's rage as he dashed toward him. They had been a mere five meters apart when the gangster had begun to charge him, but as the Urashima had automatically gone into the Soul of Ice, it was like the man was running through molasses, he appeared to move so slow. Slow enough that he was able to identify the type of blade he was holding; a shin gunto sword, mass produced and cheaply made with machine tools for the Imperial Japanese military in the years leading up to and during the Pacific War. This one had a katana style blade but a plain wooden handle and a brown tassel dangling from the end. Even though the blade was shiny, he could see that due to lack of maintenance it was pitted and discolored by either rust or blood.
Once the gangster was within two meters of him, when the blade of the katana began to come down, Keitaro did three things at almost the same time; he sidestepped so fast it was almost a flash step with the sword streaking through where his head a quarter second before; he put his foot out and tripped the gangster so he fell face first; and his hand flashed and ripped the sword out of the falling man's grip before he fell onto the asphalt.
The gangster had barely flipped around and started to sit up before a foot came and kicked him in the shoulder, knocking him onto his back. Before he could even think of trying to sit up again there was a sword point a few centimeters in front of his face and the man froze. His eyes traced the blade up to its wielder, to see that his opponent was now on one knee beside him, his arm cocked back ready to thrust the sword forward through his eye into his brain.
The two men stared at each other for what seemed to be forever; in actuality it was about ten seconds. Finally the gangster spoke, the first words uttered since the battle had begun. "Go ahead, finish it! What are you waiting for!"
Dark eyes narrowed behind red tinted shades. Staring at him for a few moments more he then spoke. "You are not worthy of an honorable death." With those words Keitaro drove the sword forward… into the asphalt beside the gangster's face, shattering the blade.
Leaving the white-faced wide-eyed gangster on the ground, Keitaro came to his feet and dropped the handle of the broken sword. Seeing that the criminal was not going to move, he walked over to the car the gunmen had been using for cover and looked behind it. Seeing one semi-conscious gangster that had an improvised bandage on his chest laying on the ground, he kicked away the rifle beside him before he turned and walked past the hyperventilating gangster on the ground and his two unconscious compatriots, heading toward where he had left Katsuo.
Passing through the gap between parked cars, Keitaro observed that even though most of the people who had been taking cover there were starting to sit up from where they had been laying on the ground, they were all staring at him with wide eyes. The only people on their feet were Katsuo, who was coming up off his knees and the TV cameraman, who was leaning against a car to support him.
"Medic-san, those men behind me need medical attention." Keitaro glanced at the two fire rescue medics, and while the older male gave a brusque nod and started to speak into the two-way radio microphone clipped to his shirt collar, the female medic's eyes were so wide that they were almost anime sized. "This woman from the car crash and that woman with the leg wound can be transported to the hospital now as well." Looking back at Katsuo he said, "Time to go, shatei."
Turning away, the two men had barely starting walking when suddenly a woman's voice started shouting, "Akira-san! Akira-san! Can I ask you some questions?" Slowly turning back, they looked incredulously at the female TV reporter, who at this point had stood up and was leaning against the car near her. Seeing they had stopped, the reporter almost launched herself at them, coming to a stumbling halt just before them and thrusting her microphone at Keitaro's face, the cameraman now pointing his video camera at them. "Saki Kawase, Chanel 24 News Live! Can you tell us who you are?"
Keitaro looked at her for a long moment with no expression visible on his face behind his dark shades and grey scarf before speaking. "It seems like you already know my name, Kawase-san. How can that be?"
For a moment the reporter looked embarrassed. "Your friend shouted out your name when you started walking into that gunfight between those gangsters."
Glancing sideways Keitaro could see that Katsuo was now blushing red under his medical mask. Looking back toward the reporter he responded shortly to her question. "Yes, my name is Akira."
"What are you?" asked the reporter. Seeing an eyebrow rise behind his shades she clarified her question. "What do you do for a living?"
"I am just a simple man, making my way through the world." Seeing the incredulous look on the reporter's face he continued. "I am an independent contractor; different people hire me to do various tasks. I had some business on this street when the gunfight broke out."
Seeing that he had replied to her question, the reporter felt emboldened and asked "What yakuza gang are you working for?" Almost immediate she regretted it as a cold wind began to swirl around them and icy beads of sweat started sliding down her back under her clothes. Even under the shades and scarf she could now see the frown on his face.
"I am working for a ninkyo dantai. Please don't presume otherwise." By this time the reporter was barely not visibly trembling. Ninkyo dantai, which translated to the phrase 'chivalrous organizations', was how yakuza liked to refer to themselves, as underdogs fighting against oppressors. Of course the police and the government though differently, calling them boryokudan, 'violent organizations'.
"What is the name of the group you working for then?" The reporter was persistent if nothing else.
"That information is unavailable." The flat tone of Keitaro's voice more than anything convinced the reporter that she was not going to get an answer to this question.
"Why did you go walking into that gun fight, you could have died." The reporter relaxed slightly as she saw the frown disappear from Keitaro's face.
"People's lives were in danger and I was in a position to help them." He tilted his head slightly as he replied.
"But that car was next to a burning truck! And it blew up! And then you walked between people shooting at each other!" With each statement the reporter was sounding more skeptical.
"When people are in danger, you have to have faith in your ability to help them. It's not like someone else would have saved them." At this statement the male rescue medic behind twitched but otherwise stayed quiet. The female medic blushed slightly and stayed silent as well.
"Ability? What kind of abilities let you do that?" was the next dubious question.
"Ones you have to train for many years to use," was Keitaro's laconic response. "If your reflexes are fast enough you can do seemingly impressive things." The tone of his voice made it obviously that he would not explain any further for this question as well.
"Those abilities let you dodge bullets?!" The tone of the reporter's voice went higher as she asked her question.
"Most criminals have very bad accuracy with firearms, it's due to a lack of formal training and practice. If you see where the muzzles of their weapons are pointed, with very good reflexes you can move out of the way." Keitaro's tone was more suited to explaining a golf swing than on how he dodged gunfire. "It does not help that they lose control of their weapons by firing so fast."
"Do you know the people you saved from the car?" The reporter noticeably changed gears in her questioning.
"No. Does it matter?" asked Keitaro, some slight curiosity in his voice.
"You risked your life for people you don't know?!" The reporter asked disbelievingly.
"Would you have preferred that I leave that little girl and her mother in their car? Those two are precious to someone." The reporter looked mortified at the response, and as she started to try and formulate another question, he felt Katsuo nudge into his shoulder. Looking back at him, he saw the young oyabun tilt his head to the side.
Following his gaze, Keitaro could see fire rescue medics and armored police officers surrounding the injured gangsters in the street. Unfortunately some of those police officers were now staring in their direction, with one of the police pressing his fingers to one ear, presumably listening to his radio ear piece and not looking happy at what he was hearing. But what drew Keitaro's attention was off on the side of the street. Two people were being walked out of the shot-up store by more armored police; an old man in his seventies or eighties with a severe limp, and a boy in his mid-teens, both of them hand-cuffed behind their backs. A separate officer was behind them carrying what looked to be an old WWII bolt action rifle.
Just then they heard a crow's loud caw come from behind them, at which point both men straightened slightly. "It's time for us to go…" when the reporter's hand shot out and grabbed Keitaro's arm.
The look he gave her almost caused her to stumble back, but she managed to press on. "Do you have any last words for our audience?"
Keitaro looked from the reporter to the cameraman, who managed to stand his ground. He thought for a moment before looking right into the camera lens and speaking. "Don't hurt the innocent in your disputes. You won't like the consequences." Removing his arm from the reporter's now limp hand, he turned and started walking away from the crowd, Katsuo falling in besides him.
Pausing for a moment when the female medic took his hand and giving it an awkward double handed shake while thanking him, the two men were almost at the end of the block when the police noticed what they were doing. A police officer immediately bolted toward them with two others following after a moment.
Forcing their way through the crowd on the sidewalk, the officers ran toward the alley the two men had entered. Turning the corner the officers came to a skidding halt; the passage was a dead end, and the notoriously clean alley characteristic of Tokyo was completely empty except for some trash containers that were too small for a grown man to hide behind. Frantically searching the trash cans and shaking locked doors, the police never thought to look up. Otherwise they may have seen a second story window softly close, one that was next to a fire escape three meters above the ground.
Next up, Haruka, Kanako and Sarah track down Keitaro and express their displeasure. *grin*
A/N - First off, I must apologize for how long it took for this to be posted. I had gotten too used to letting months go by without posting, but one year had gone by… and then the COVID hit. While I did get bed sick with a suspiciously dry cough back in early 2020 (which I completely recovered from), the full pandemic hit after that. With the pandemic came the lockdowns, which in California were near total. So there were no restaurants or Starbucks I could go to write, and I do not have room in my living quarters to sit at a table and write. Plus I was pulling down overtime at my work that left me dog tired most days, to the point where I would get home, crash for a few hours, get up and eat and then go to sleep for the day. Not the best way to get things done.
I had started writing again in October when the lockdowns happened again. They had been lifted again this month so I was finally able to finish the chapter. Given the current political climate here in California there hopefully won't be another lockdown unless there is another complete outbreak. I'll try to start work on the next chapter in the next couple weeks and get it out in a month (IhopeIhopeIhope crossesfingers).
The action sequence in this chapter is nowhere as good as I would have hoped, back when I dreamed it up. I have only basic hand to hand training, and it probably shows. Hopefully it is still exciting, and it can be explained as Keitaro having to keep most of his abilities under wraps, since he was in public and being filmed. He is going to catch flack for that from the Council, but he had an excuse/reason for it – two actually. He is going to be called up on the carpet for it, and people who have had prior experiences with Hiroyuki Akira are going to notice.
Some people will be happy to hear that the next couple chapters are going to concentrate mostly on Keitaro, with Sarah having somewhat of a lesser presence.
For the people that want the virtual Easter candy, there are three lines in this chapter that come from other media. One is the 'I am a simple man…" line during the reporter interview (that is what is going to twerk the Council the most, by the by), and the "That information is not available" line. Keitaro's reactions during the interview is based a lot on the character that uses the second line, which is in a story that sadly had not been updated even longer than this story was. The third line is when Keitaro speaks directly into the camera. People who get the correct answers will get the virtual solid Easter Bunny chocolate. The people who figure out who the female rescue medic is and why she did what she did at the end will get a virtual box of See's Candy.
Thanks to everyone that Favorites and Follows this story… As of this date (16Mar21) this story has 465K words, 1136 Reviews, 1,080,899 Views (one million!?), 64 C2s, 1741 Favorites, and 1548 Follows. This story has been going for almost ten years (!) and you guys are still reading it… Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
My usual thanks also go to my beta readers AZMkII, PCH, and WalkerOf Darkness, who are still helping me out with this story. And special thanks go to Ted Hsu, who keeps sending me encouraging reviews/messages. Send me an email address, man, it sucks not to be able to respond directly to you.