Disclaimer: If you dislike gratuitous violence, discussion of racial issues, portrayals of severe mental illness, existentialism, and OC-centric fics, this isn't for you. Insert Witty I Don't Own the Property Spiel Here.
A New Mutant
Chapter 2: Fulfilling Purpose
Kojo clutched his head. "Now is a really bad time to learn I'm going to hell if I ever die."
The door behind him burst open.
"Kenji-san!" His guards cried.
"…Feels a lot like I've said or thought that before." He spun around, tapped one in the temple, and pushed down the other young man to introduce his head to the wood floor. "Also, that in the exact same way." Setting his bare foot against the guard's bruised head, he nudged it forward and backward. "To kill or not to kill though…" He turned his attention back to the experienced, chanting Yakuza.
The question was meant for him.
"Can I? I did make Ren into my loyal little Japanese princess but you?"
Itsuki remained undisturbed.
"If I brought his… my tomcat, I could've just popped you by now." He crouched down and picked up a pebble-sized piece of roof rubble. "This'll do just fine." His headache grew when he flicked it
Itsuki stood, spun, and diverted the smoking pebble into the nearest wall with the hilt of his ōdahi. His eyes widened before narrowing at the rubble-thrower. "Oni," he hissed. Kenji held the scuffed hilt with both hands and snapped into a high stance.
"Mutant actually." His nose twitched. "Seriously, can you not fucking smell that?"
The Japanese man crept forward.
Kojo eyed the purple gleaming blade. "Too thin: it'll bend or break if it makes contact with my bones.
Itsuki whipped his sword at his throat, leaving a purple fog-like trail, but missed by several inches.
"Come on, tha-"His head throbbed.
The miasma took the shape of its source with the handle beginning at where the tip stopped.
Kojo ducked under the revenant strike. "Neat trick. You should've slashed more so I wouldn't be able to dodge."
"Foolish oni."
"For the love o-" He reached to snap the sword as it moved to disembowel him, but Itsuki pulled back the ōdachi in time. "I'm not a demon."
Itsuki struck again to the opposite side of the boy's guts while the purple follow up materialized.
He hopped and embedded his fingers in the unbroken part of the roof, avoiding the strikes and taking himself out of his opponent's range. "Can you even see it?"
Taking a deep breath, Itsuki pulled his arms back by his head. He aimed the blade's tip at Kojo's chest.
His forehead seared. "What now?!"
The temple filled with purple when Itsuki thrusted.
Kojo let go but his fall speed lacked the force of his strength, receiving a fissure from his uppermost left ribs to his traps instead of a split heart. "Not going to lie." He took a short breath and coughed foam-like blood. "That was nice." He drove a finger into the afflicted lung through his side.
Itsuki slashed four consecutive times at the air.
Kojo hopped back before any of their second strikes could reach him. "Come on."
He thrusted again for his young opponent to side-step.
"I'd just charge through you right now if I didn't have so many questions." Kojo raised an eyebrow as Itsuki prepared another horizontal slash. "This again?"
The ōdachi was consumed by purple.
"Oh…" He hopped over the wave of strange energy.
Itsuki shifted into an upward thrust.
Kojo spun himself in time to sacrifice his right kidney and the large intestine in front over his upper vitals. "Okay, you're lear-" The fierce pain returned as he landed. Turning back, he saw the energy slash's own revenant follow up.
Itsuki complimented it with another.
Kojo propelled himself through the roof again and into the sky above Itsuki's sight. "I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but this is kinda fun." Landing on a yet-to-be-destroyed part of the roof, he touched the shutting wound on his abdomen. "Unfortunately, I'm several levels above whatever this is." He stomped.
Itsuki thrusted, which missed; energy slashed, which Kojo hopped over; and swung his ōdachi at his throat.
Kojo ducked and grabbed Itsuki's forearm. "Nice try." He glanced back at the returning energy slash before jumping with Itsuki over it. "I have the strangest feeling I'm not fighting you anywhere near your best though." His face didn't budge as Itsuki punched his throat with his free hand. "What are you? Forty? Fifty?" Clucking his tongue, he shook his head. "Humans age like shit, don't they?"
Itsuki glared into his eyes. "Spare me your diatribe, and kill me, oni."
"Like I told you the first time, I'm a mutant." Kojo maneuvered the opposing man's sword between them with his held forearm. "Tell me what the fuck this is."
"It is the ancestral sword of my family passed on for generations after my ancestor, Kenji Ryouta, failed his dearest friend." His gaze softened by an insignificant amount. "An oni's soul is trapped in its blade, and it will escape if broken and not tempered."
"Why is that… The energy shit though?"
"The oni's rage and power given direction. Mortal men cannot see it, so you cannot be what claim to be."
"Smell is more what's killing me but okay; that explains…jackshit." Kojo scowled.
"Do you know who you truly are?"
"You mean what I am."
"The two are one in the same."
"I don't have time for this eastern philosophical shit." He made Itsuki press his sword against his own throat. "Itsuki Kenji…" He blinked as the words came to his mouth. "Why are you here?"
"I was he-"
"Not here as in this temple: I mean here as in New York." Kojo let the man go. "You're the ideal Yakuza playing kobun to an oyabun too scared to face his recruits, much less show his face at all."
Itsuki stepped back, snapped into a stance, and stared.
Kojo put his hands in his pockets.
The two held their positions for a minute.
Itsuki relaxed, setting his sword by his hip with one hand on its grip. "Why do you wish to know?"
Kojo gestured to his healed wounds. "I could count on one hand the people who've managed to hurt me since I became a mutant. You just made six, so now I have to count with both." He glanced at the blade responsible for his pain. "That thing's only a tool: you're the real weapon. So why? Why the ever loving hell are you the number two of a new family in your clan flanked by two experienced factions who want nothing more than to see you all dead, beaten, broken, or fucked? Who did you piss off?"
Itsuki took a moment to look down before meeting Kojo's eyes with his own.
They were similar, dull with little light inside left to glimmer, but the mutant's were voids.
"…I served as the guardian of Sora Kumiko, Sora Shin's granddaughter," Itsuki began. "Sora-sama appointed me as Kumiko-chan's guardian after the death of her mother: the life as a relative of a clan head is one of paranoia and isolation. It was hoped that I could teach Kumiko-chan how to focus her mind to ignore the cruel world around her, but all my teachings did was reinforce in her the idea that life had no meaning whatsoever." His voice wavered. "I found her cutting her wrists with the removed blade of a pencil sharpener one day. After that, everything she came into contact with was examined. None of that mattered when winter came and she was gifted a scarf."
"At least it was quick."
Itsuki nodded. "Thankfully, it was. I was busy attending to my family's responsibility to stop her from hanging herself. Sora-sama did not blame me for the incident but blamed himself. I contemplated committing sepuku to atone, but I only ever trained Kumiko-chan in my rituals and lacked a child to pass on the responsibility. I abstained my suicide for a later time until I found a successor. Sora-sama died naturally not long after. Shirou Maki succeeded him and deemed me unworthy of being near him or enforcing Yakuza interests in the Pacific so he sent me here to the distant, volatile Atlantic to assist Seong Ji-Hoon before you murdered him. At first I thought I was given a chance to redeem myself, but it is like you said: I have been sent here to die. If not by your hands than by another's. My fate is sealed and I will fail my ancestor as he failed his friend."
Kojo held out his hand. "Join me, Kenji Itsuki-san, like all the others who realized they had no future. You'll have a lot of people from my crew to pick from. Most of the kids that joined you won't end up lifeless bodies in the streets either. In your mind, you've already failed your clan, but really they've failed you. You can either betray the Yakuza that failed you or fail your ancestors forever, so what's it going to be?"
Itsuki stared at the offer.
It was his only salvation.
He kneeled. "From now to till my last breath I swear to obey you; may I have the honor of knowing your name?"
"Kojo Reyes." He wanted to hear the '-sama' honorific from him. The extreme satisfaction and feeling of familiarity made him even more inclined. "Western name order."
"Thank you, Reyes-sama."
"Where is Seong Woo-Jin?" There was no time to waste. He could eliminate one of his rivals, assimilate his men, and take his territory in a single swoop with his new man on the inside. It was inevitable.
Itsuki stood. "245-05 Rushmore Avenue in Little Neck. Seong Woo-Jin took all experienced Yakuza members as his personal bodyguards and left me to instruct our new recruits as well as overlook all local Yakuza operations by myself."
"I knew it." Kojo laughed. "Let's go kill that fuck." He glanced over his new minion's body. "But first, throw something on. I know fighting shirtless can make you feel like a god: it's just awkward after all is said and done."
"As you wish, Reyes-sama." Itsuki walked over to his neatly folded suit and shirt pile, sheathed his sword in an equally long wooden sheath by it, slipped into them, and put on shades. "I am ready."
"Bitchin'." Kojo wrapped an arm around him and hopped through one of the ceiling holes on to the roof before taking off into the dimming sky.
With Itsuki in hand, Kojo had to slow down significantly. A single sound from his unaccustomed 'friend' would draw attention. There was probably an APB out on him right now after the morning incident, so he had to be careful until the heat died.
It took thirty minutes to get to Little Neck without drawing attention.
Kojo went from roof to roof and stopped on the one Itsuki pointed out.
A large mansion with a small pool stood before them. Five Asian men stood around the pool, scowls on their faces. AK-74s were loaded in their hands.
Itsuki pressed his thumb on his ōdachi's hilt.
Kojo sniffed and shook his head as it began to ache.
He already knew what the details were, even if he couldn't make them out.
"Stay here," he commanded.
Whether or not he was spotted didn't matter when the best anyone present could do was dye his shirt bloody red.
Kojo hopped to the roof, jumped down on a guard right as he walked out on the second floor balcony, dragged his body back inside, opened a door, and peeked inside.
Woo-Jin was praying in front of a large portrait of his stern old man. The candlelight left only the two of them visible. "Maggia, Kingpin, horned agma...Abeoji."He whimpered before opening a pill bottle.
"Hey, Woo-Jin." Kojo grinned as wide as he could and threw the body at its leader.
The Seong Family leader-in-name-only cried out in pain.
Many cruel ideas floated about Kojo's head, but he only found one appropriate however familiar it was.
Kojo stalked towards Woo-Jin's shivering, fallen form. Every footstep was slower and landed harder than the next. The fear in the air swelled alongside them. His sharp teeth gleamed in the darkness before a large, horned shadow followed him into the light.
Woo-Jin was the first of many.
Only time would tell if there was a last.
Kojo kicked the body off him and pushed him down with his foot before he could scamper away.
Woo-Jin stared with fearful reverence at his superior. "H-he-"
A stomp quieted his voice forever.
Gasping, he looked up at the portrait of his father looking down in disappointment. Tears welled in his eyes. He reached out to it.
The ache in Kojo's skull did nothing to prevent him from crushing the reaching hand in his own.
Woo-Jin twitched and stopped.
"Weird," Kojo said, grinning still. "Could've sworn he was going to try to crawl away while he still could." He shrugged. It didn't matter. He jumped through the ceiling on to the mansion roof before hopping over to Itsuki.
"I-"
"It's done, yeah. Gather up every one of your New York recruits. Tell them you're all a part of your own family now. Kill whoever resists and use them to take care of the Yakuza that came from the Pacific: it's a good opportunity to show them what this game is really about and to mop up anyone loyal."
Itsuki nodded.
"I'll get into contact with you. Just keep guard against any incursions by the Maggia until then."
"As you wish, Reyes-sama."
Kojo laughed. "Something tells me you can get off this building yourself, so I'll just leave you be." He waved goodbye before taking off into the auburn sky.
The ache returned when he reached Bayside.
"What now?" He groaned. Stopping on the nearest rooftop, he slammed his horned head through the parapet. "It's been all fucking day with this!" Itsuki's earlier words sprung to mind. "I am who I am, and nothing will ever change that." He paused and glanced down at the alley below. "…I'm not that piece of shit nobody." He lifted his drywall dust covered hands. "And I need a dip."
Showering required a house, so the ocean was his substitute.
Kojo hopped towards Little Neck Bay and leaped over several blocks into the body of water when he was close enough.
Blood from the fight with Itsuki diluted away as did the dust.
He swam about beneath the surface, moving at speeds beyond that of most fish thanks to his physiology, to ensure all of it faded. Finished, he looked around.
Everything was blurry, but there was an odd beauty to the encompassing blue.
A kayak bottom sailed above his head.
Kojo tried to cluck his tongue and scowled in realization. He couldn't be seen now. Shrugging, he began moving towards the Bronx. It'd been some time since he travelled by water.
It took three minutes to get far enough in the bay for no one to notice major movement. Four more minutes took him near the hook of Throgs Neck, just under the bridge from the neighborhood to Queens.
"̸̝̰̫͔̭̮͋͐̌͘̚͜͜ͅẀ̷̭̥̘̓͜"̴̧̨̗͙̯͔͚̲̔̋̔̅̈ͅ
Kojo looked towards Hunts Point and Soundview.
For ten years, that's all he knew. For all he did, he was born there. He was sure he'd die somewhere between them: they were crime ridden slums, and he took up murdering murderers.
He sigh-bubbled before resuming course
Some things are best left forgotten.
The moment his feet touched land, he hopped to the nearest rooftop and took off.
Kojo was more than air-dry by the time he reached the warehouse. He looked down at the tears in his shirt. That required sewing done by a professional, preferably a grumpy grandmother. Their reactions were the funniest.
He hopped down by the closed gate and input the door code.
Guns and knives were drawn at him on reflex.
"This is so familiar it hurts." He walked past his standing down soldiers to his roundtable seat, filling it. "Did you guys just sit here the entire time?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "No, the boys got out a couple of those board games, and we fucked pixie princesses in the Far Realms as the rider knights of no land. Should've been here for the big dragon fight."
"Fuck, I'd love to fight a dragon. In real life, I mean: not your faggy fantasy thing."
"Let's move on to business." He glanced at the upper opening in his shirt. "Looks like you flexed. Itsuki dead?"
"No."
"…Then what's the situation?"
Kojo grinned. "I got him to flip. He gave me Woo-Jin's location, I killed him, and I gave him some orders before we went our separate ways. Man should be arranging for the deaths of anyone still loyal to the clan now with his recruits, which are now my recruits." He folded his hands. "One down, three to go."
Everyone stared.
"Wow," Alex said.
"You thought I'd fuck this up, didn't you?"
Marcus nodded. "It's been years since I've seen you do something surgically, but what you did was something else entirely."
Kojo glanced at the silent other two.
Ren fidgeted as Jesús continued not caring.
"A masterstroke is what it was. Going to be the first of many from here on out, which brings me to our next target."
"Kojo," Marcus said.
His head ached. "I know, I know: it's getting late and you're already tired from doing today's legwork." He waved towards the ladders. "Get your rest then. I have a feeling tomorrow is when the real shit starts. Oh, the demon sword was real too. You should've been there to see it, but you didn't and probably wouldn't have."
"Suuure." Marcus stood. "It totally is."
Kojo shrugged. There was no way he could prove it, so he understood. "You're all dismissed. Relax here but be alert outside until I give the okay."
The rest nodded and rose.
He joined the ones walking out, one of which was Marcus. "Hey."
"Hey."
"…Eating out?" Kojo stopped under the gate.
Marcus turned around. "Just going on a walk, why?"
"Nothing. Things have been weird lately… We've been weird lately."
"You, you have been weird and not lately."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Kojo, you always mean you when you say we."
"I can understand that but the second part?"
"…What have you done in the past two years?"
Kojo shrugged. "Not that much. Everyone here knows not to start shit, I needed to build up a war chest for what's to come, and the sky's the only thing around here worth checking out."
Marcus sighed, glancing at some staring members of their crew. "We'll talk later."
"Alright."
They went their separate ways, Kojo to the rooftops with Marcus down the street, and frowned.
"I think I could use something to eat, but I have the weirdest feeling I'd regret it," Kojo said. The ache in his head was an annoying truthful thing. He looked to the nearest piece of greenery in the concrete jungle. "Rarely populated around these times." Shrugging, he began hopping. "May as well."
Within the span of a minute, he reached Baretto Point Park. It was a small area compared to the other parks near bodies of water in the city, but it stood out in Hunts Point for not being as decrepit as the rest of the neighborhood.
Kojo fell on to the grass, sprawling himself out.
There was something about nature he found himself admiring. Humans restrained theirs no matter how much they failed.
"It's pathetic. Why do you fight so much against yourself?"
To be murdered was weakness, murder was power, to be stolen from was insulting, stealing was clever, to be raped was pathetic, rape was punishment, to be subjugated was failure, and to subjugate was success. Fairness, justice, and peace were nothing more than lies people told themselves to feel safe. A single blow to their foundations, and all would crash as it constantly did in the modern world, a world built on lies.
He stared into the sky and lost himself.
Sunset gave way to the looming stars.
Kojo reached out to no avail.
Some things were beyond just nature.
He laughed and held his sides. It was foolish of him, but he still did it. The stars made the clouds a far more fathomable outcome. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
It was impossible
What if it was?
Kojo opened his eyes to countless burning suns in his infinite hands. The earth beneath him was replaced by the nothingness of space. His flesh no longer existed, being unnecessary. Everything in the universe could be experienced with an extension of his will. All that could, did, and was happening occurred infinitely at once.
He had ascended beyond godhood.
It faded away.
Red was all Kojo could see. Blood flowed down his cheeks, nostrils, chin, and oozed out his ears. He lifted his upper body off the ground and clutched his head. "…I don't …I don't." He rose to his trembling feet and collapsed. "I don't understand."
Perhaps one day you will.
He looked through his blood-blinded eyes to the stars above.
A reddish-orange light brighter than any star flickered trillions of light years away.
Kojo could feel it was something beyond even that in his scrambled head. A grin spread across his face before a realization killed it. "You're Life."
No, it is too soon.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He lifted himself up with a hand. "Do you mean the headaches?"
It disappeared.
"I know you can hear me. Not sure how I know, but I know you can." A minute of silence passed. "Okay." He leapt to the shore. "Fuck you." He dunked his throbbing head, shook until his blood diluted, and whipped it back out.
Red pupils on black whites stared back at him.
Kojo laughed. "Now I look like a demon." He squinted. "…Something's missing though." Shrugging, he stepped back. "I've got other concerns. They're nothing when I compare it to this, but they're more immediate." He hopped out the park to a nearby rooftop and took off.
It took him a minute to reach the warehouse thanks to his brain damage and headache combo.
He hopped down by the gate and input the code again. "Seven-Nine-Three; bitch, don't fuck with me."
Marcus was at his roundtable seat, working on his third bottle of corona branded beer, and the only one on the ground floor.
"You're drinking?" He walked in and set the gate to close.
"Thinking too much. Needed to calm down." He stared as Kojo approached. "Fuck happened to you?"
He shrugged. "Long story." He took his seat next to his right hand. "What you thinking about?"
"Dying mostly."
"It's inevitable. Best not to think too much about it, so you can live."
"Yeah… Ever think living's just a way to keep yourself from dying?"
"Either you're a lightweight or you mean something by that."
Marcus downed the rest of his bottle. "I mean, living is actually shit, but we keep telling ourselves to keep going, so we just don't kill ourselves."
"Why would you want to kill yourself?"
"Just thinking, man. Have you ever thought about it?"
"…Way back when." Kojo averted his eyes.
"And?"
"I didn't give a shit. If I died, I died."
"So you're still the same."
"No, I'm not."
"Oh yeah." Marcus leaned back in his seat. "You're a mutant now."
"One who can heal from fatal injuries from seconds to minutes."
"Good for you."
"Something you want to say?"
"No."
"You did earlier." Kojo hummed. "Seemed important."
"Important? That's what's important to you? What I think? ...Good to know."
"What do you mean?"
Marcus shrugged. "Nothing, man. Just thinking and wondering, wondering what Dan would think of us."
"He'd be pissed." Kojo laughed.
"No shit: he taught us to defend ourselves and fight crime, not hurt others and commit it."
"The Bronx is safer now than it's been in decades. Barbarians at the gates isn't good for anyone, but a broken horde you can use to your advantage is the perfect weapon against your enemies."
"And your friends."
Kojo shrugged. "If they act up and aren't really your friends, yeah."
"Can you imagine the earful Abuelita would give you if she knew you were hanging out with a bunch of niggas and Asians?" Marcus asked, smiling.
"¡Chiquito, qué estás haciendo con el maldito negritos y los hombres con el ojos de los diablos!"
"Oh my god!" Marcus laughed. "That is so her!" He sighed. "Fuck, it's been years since I've heard you speak Spanish."
"Haven't needed to use it."
"Remember your old accent?"
Kojo cringed. "Don't remind me. I prefer speaking like an American over a goddamn beaner who didn't know which brand of Latin to use."
"Only change Dan would be proud of, but Abuelita would be disappointed… I miss them."
"They served their purpose."
Marcus frowned. "…What."
"Both of them took care of us, taught us, and died." He raised an eyebrow at his staring friend. "What?"
"That's it?"
"Yeah, it's not like they had long anyway."
"…And if I died?"
"You're alive now. Quit thinking about it."
"No." Marcus leaned towards him. "What would you do if I died?"
"Kill whoever killed you slowly, bury your body beside them behind the old warehouse, and move on."
"That's it?"
"Want me to throw you a parade or something?"
"No, that's not what I…" Marcus sighed.
"I really don't understand."
"You're fucked up, Kojo."
"Been a while since you told me that." He laughed.
"I can't say it enough to get through to you… Still can't believe we never knew Abuelita's real name."
"…Her name was Luiz."
"She told you?"
Kojo scowled. "My father did."
"Oh yeah." Marcus blinked. "Oh fuck, I completely forgot about that."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"That is the second time you ever mentioned you had one. The first was…around the time we first met. What happened? I thought you grew up on the streets."
"I did."
"Then?"
"It's a long story."
"But you don't want to talk about it?"
"Not now, no." Kojo rose and clutched his head. "I need to rest."
"Well, that's a first. I'll join you in a minute."
Kojo waved before reaching the ladders and hopping up. He walked to an uninhabited part of the futon sea, plopped himself down, and sighed.
There was much he had to do in little time to ensure his absolute victory. Silvio and Fisk stood in his way. Hammerhead was little more than a footnote in comparison, Woo-Jin less so. The new recruits gave him an edge, but he needed an advantage in case open war erupted before he did anything further.
He cupped his chin.
Something told him he knew exactly what to do at the given time but not now. It also told him to expect that a lot in the coming days. The worst of this new strange annoyance was yet to come and tomorrow felt like its herald.
Groaning, he shook his head.
Power moves in the underworld were one thing, the strange new phenomena he was experiencing was something else. It was working in his favor at the moment, but the tide could change just as easily. There was something wrong with him and not in the normal sense. Time would reveal the answers eventually.
Kojo scowled.
Unfortunately, he was an impatient, literal bastard.
He closed his eyes and grumbled himself to sleep.
Yeeah, things are going to get complicated. Fave, like, and review if you wish. Actually, just review. I take feedback more importantly than everything else, positive or negative.