Both Officer Sanada and Makoto banged on the wooden penthouse door. Two more officers waited a few feet behind the pair, prepared for whenever the door would open. Makoto and Sanada's initial attempts yielded no results, so Sanada stepped it up a bit. "Kubo! We have a warrant for your arrest!"
With luck, those would be the words that would open the door. Makoto breathed deeply, readying herself for what would be the most important moment of her still-young career as an officer of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
It never came. Silence from the other side of the door left Makoto on bated breath, only for Sanada to up the ante. "Kubo, if you do not open this door, we will enter using force."
Knocking down the door would be a tremendous waste. It alone probably cost more than Makoto made in a month, adorned with carvings and some gold highlights within the carvings.
Officer Sanada turned to the two officers behind him, giving them the go-ahead nod to show the door how few fucks they gave about its value. The two additional officers lifted the battering ram, the tallest of the pair smiling at Makoto in confidence. Makoto shook her head and stepped out of the way. As one of the newer officers in the department, she put up with those looks daily.
The additional officers held the end of the battering ram to the door, aiming their strike. Sanada figured he'd give Kubo one last chance and yelled once again. "Kubo, this is your last chance! Come out now, or we're breaking this door down!"
They knew Kubo was inside. He rarely left the penthouse, at least according to the extensive work Sanada's team had done tailing Kubo. When he did leave, he went to the dodgy strip club he owned in Shinjuku. From the club, Sanada previously assumed that Kubo conducted the operations of his yakuza clan, the Seventh Yamaguchi-gumi.
Makoto smiled to herself when she remembered that they no longer were assumptions. Sanada's team found evidence. They found witnesses, snitches, and everything else needed to put Kubo away for life.
Murder, extortion, bribery, the works. Kubo did his best to commit every crime in described Japanese law. Not only that, but he also did his best to involve plenty of people in his schemes. That left loads of people to prosecute, and plenty to pull testimonies from. Putting Kubo behind bars would be cutting the head off a hydra, but putting him, his regional managers, and numerous underlings behind bars would cripple the Yamaguchi.
All they had to do was get through this door. Sanada gave his last nod, and the battering pair took action. They swung the weighty object backward, using their hips to add extra force, before slamming forward with all their weight into the door. It swung open to a shimmering, pristine penthouse that—
Blood splattered across Makoto's uniform before she even realized what happened. The battering ram gave a loud chunk as it dropped to the ground along with the man holding up the front end of it. Only after the man she once knew lay dead in front of her did Makoto process what occurred: Kubo shot an officer.
Makoto dove backward, around the corner that led to the elevator as another shot rang out. She never even saw Kubo, she knew he must've been waiting for them to break the door down. Makoto panted heavily as she got herself into a crouch before forcing herself to stand up.
Stay calm, Makoto… Breathe deeply, just like Dad taught you… Remember procedure…
Makoto looked to the corner on the opposite side of the hall. Sanada, the veteran officer who told Makoto that this would be an in-and-out mission, had the same idea as her. He pulled his service weapon out of the holster and readied it. Makoto followed his lead and readied her own revolver as she stood up straight against her cover.
No more shots… Just me and Sanada… What happened to Yasuda?
Makoto worked up the courage to check the corner, only to be snapped out of her adrenaline-fueled focus when she heard Sanada radioing the situation back to the station for backup and medical. His radio clicked and he noticed Makoto. He shook his head, telling her off before he immediately did the very thing he stopped her from doing. His head poked out for the longest seconds of Makoto's life before he pulled it safely behind cover. He nodded to her.
Makoto peeked around the corner, now without the same confidence she built up before, but with permission. She looked straight ahead into the penthouse. Kubo must've vacated the main area because she saw no sign of life on the other side of the doors.
Or on their side of the doors. Both officers, the one who held the front of the battering ram and Yasuda, the one who held the rear, were motionless on the ground. The grotesque opening on the back of the first officer's head told Makoto enough about his status, but the second one did seem to have some hope. His bullet hole went through his shoulder. His police clothing likely covered the reality of the wound, but Makoto held on to the hope that only one person would die today.
"Niijima!" Sanada caught her attention with a yelled-whisper. She snapped her head to the other side of the hall. "Follow after my signal!" Sanada left cover, pushing up the hallway in a crouch. Makoto looked on in fear as Sanada checked the pulse of the second officer. From Sanada's lack of a reaction, Makoto couldn't decipher the result.
You can't focus on that… Kubo needs to be brought to justice… Don't get distracted.
The hole in the back of the first officer's head only served to reinforce that last thought Makoto had. Sanada crossed through the broken doorway, jumping up and surveying the room with his revolver trained. He swiftly turned back to Makoto, nodded, and moved left out of view.
This is it!
Makoto pivoted out of her corner, gun in hand, before repeating Sanada's movements and staying low as she walked through the blood-stained hall. She passed over the spot she stood in when the day went to shit, recalling the feeling of the blood hitting her clothes and skin. She pushed the thought away and crossed the door.
Makoto expected the exquisiteness of the penthouse. The Yamaguchi declined in significance over the past few years, but they still maintained their spot atop the world of organized crime in Japan. Nearly every citizen living in an area with a reasonably dense population feared the Yamaguchi.
And Mitsuo Kubo, one of the most dangerous men in Japan on account of his power and wealth, awaited Makoto somewhere in this glorious penthouse.
Makoto caught sight of Sanada, who took cover behind a large marble pillar a few feet from the door. Another marble pillar on the right side of the entrance caught Makoto's eye, so rushed up to it before standing. She looked to Sanada for direction.
"Kubo!" Sanada yelled. "Don't make this worse for yourself!" This time, there were no gunshots. Just more eerie silence, reminding Makoto of those who had already lost their lives today. She looked back at the gory scene at the entrance. Sanada lowered his voice so only Makoto could hear it. "I'll go up those stairs. Stay here to make sure he doesn't escape," Sanada said as he motioned around the pillar to the spiral staircase that led to the second floor of the penthouse. Beneath the staircase sat a bar. A lone glass of something had been left spilled and uncleaned on its countertop.
"Sanada…" He always did this to Makoto. As some favor to her father or something, Sanada never quit in his pursuit to not let Makoto do anything that could be considered dangerous in the line of duty. Except for this outing, but they both originally thought it'd be routine. "I've trained for years for this."
"So did they," Sanada said as he nodded back towards the entrance. "Stay here. If you hear anything , retreat back to the hallway to cover it. Backup will be here soon." Sanada rolled around the other side of the pillar and hustled over to the staircase. Makoto carefully watched the top of the staircase to make sure that Kubo pulled no tricks and caught them by surprise. Thankfully, her discretion proved unnecessary. Sanada made it up the stairs safely.
And Makoto stood behind a pillar even more safely. To be frank, Makoto found it belittling that Sanada still thought of her as an incapable little girl. He'd seen her scores from training; he knew that she led her class in nearly every area.
Technically, he isn't my commanding officer…
Makoto tried to shake the concept of disobedience from her mind. Sanada still outranked her, and that surely meant something. Still, Makoto couldn't stand around. She wanted to at least do something, even if out of harm's way. On her side of the massive living room of the penthouse was another doorway. Kubo probably went upstairs, given the advantage of high ground, so Makoto searching the lower floor meant nothing except that she wouldn't have to sit still.
Besides, if she stayed behind the pillars, Makoto would be faced with the dead bodies.
Makoto rolled around the right side of her pillar and checked the room that they already cleared. She approached the next door, delicately cracking it open with her trained gun to not make a sound. Makoto used the door as cover for her flank as she peeked into the hallway. Nothing but a door at the end of the hall.
Cautiously, Makoto wheeled around the other side of the door to check her flank. Again, nothing but a door at the end of the hall. Makoto didn't make the dilemma difficult; she chose the first door she saw and approached it, finding it sloppily cracked open. As she did, she heard a voice on the other side.
"Your elbow is shaking, Makoto. You'd miss a point-blank shot like that."
Makoto took the familiar internal voice's advice and steeled herself. She pressed herself to the side of the door, clearing her mind of possibility and worry. All that existed to her now was her own fate in her own hands.
Makoto kicked the door open to find a fully decorated nursery. Walls with dinosaurs and light blue coloring stumped Makoto only for a moment before she realized who stood in the middle of the room.
Kubo spun around with a sleek silver object in his hand. Makoto didn't even have to think about it.
She pulled the trigger.
Makoto blinked as the shot rang out, but she still registered the effect. Blood splattered across the wall, forever ruining whatever Kubo wanted the room to be. Makoto's aim held true, and Kubo did not stumble after the shot to the head. He lifelessly fell backward into the corner of the nursery, slumping down next to the window.
The off-center bullet hole in Kubo's forehead and his dead, black eyes stared through Makoto. There could be no doubt what happened: Makoto killed Mitsuo Kubo.
Makoto stood there in shock, her gun still trained on Kubo's body, simply fixed on the fresh corpse. Her eyes looked him over, only to find that the metallic object in Kubo's hand wasn't a gun like Makoto thought.
A flip-phone. Makoto must've caught him making a phone call, likely to one of his saiko-komon .
"Makoto!" Sanada barged into the room and shoved her out of the way, his gun still in hand. Makoto finally lowered her gun, and Sanada followed suit when he noticed the body. "Oh shit…"
"H-he was holding the phone a-and—" Makoto desperately tried to excuse her mistake.
Sanada sighed as he holstered his service weapon. "It's alright… He got one of us, and the other is in critical condition. He was dangerous, and you did the right thing." He put his hand on Makoto's shoulder, turning her away from the body and directing her out of the room. "Come on. Crew's gonna be here soon. They'll want both our reports."
As Makoto left the stained nursery, the cold, empty eyes burned holes through the back of her head.
"Niijima! How're ya feeling today?" Amada asked from his desk. Makoto's return from her daily coffee trip always ended with the rookie officer talking to her. She didn't mind, but Amada possessed the habit of speaking whenever people wanted him not to.
"I'm fine," Makoto said as she walked past his desk, trying to avoid conversation. Too much weighed on her for small talk.
"Well, you're about to be great, because I got some news for you!" Amada said with a grin, stopping Makoto in her path. She turned back to his messy desk, which he shared with two other officers who surely got annoyed by Amada's unorganized work style. "I mean, I don't have the news, but I—"
"What is it, Amada-san?" Makoto asked, trying to get on with it.
"Sako-sama asked to speak with you in his office," Amada finally spit out. "Looks like you're goin' big time, huh?"
Makoto's boss rarely spoke with her in the office. The only instances of them conversing were for assignments, always with other officers around. Maybe Amada's assumption stood true; Makoto could be getting a promotion.
She certainly wouldn't mind. More pay meant she would hopefully be able to move into a nicer apartment than the one she currently stayed in, but it also meant the work would be more difficult. Makoto didn't care. She didn't go through years of training to only handle small crimes and the occasional interesting case that Sanada let her tag along for. She didn't murder the most dangerous criminal in the nation to—
"Niijima? I know that I'm glowing today, but you don't have to stare." Amada's annoyance snapped Makoto out of her memory. She just smiled, nodded, and walked away from Amada towards Sako's office.
On the way, she set down her coffee on her own shared desk and made the final steps towards Sakos' door. She knocked. "Come in," said a gruff voice from the other side. Makoto opened the door, quickly taking a seat in front of Sako's desk. The older man, eyebrows thick with gray hair and his actual hair shortly trimmed, welcomed her. "Ah, Niijima. How's your morning been?"
"Can't complain."
"Amada sent you in?" Sako asked, receiving a nod in return. "Good. I'm sure you can tell that this is important." Makoto said nothing. She only waited for Sako to get to the point. "To put it plainly, you're getting a promotion. A big one. You'll be working on a large-scale case."
A full case. Resources to distribute, officers to command… It's a bit much, isn't it?
"Thank you, Sako-sama."
"Don't thank me yet, Niijima-san," Sako said in return. "The Aka Handan Ikka, usually just called the Aka-Ikka, are small." The name rang a bell, but as Sako said, they were a small clan. Makoto didn't know much about the clan, but that made it an actual case, didn't it? "But they are very, very dangerous. While the actions of you and Sanada are commendable, they have done what we expected: open up a giant vacuum that other bōryokudan clans will want to fill."
"But the Aka-Ikka are small… They'll be eaten alive by the other clans if a war breaks out."
"That's what one would think," Sako began as he held up a finger. "However, the Aka-Ikka are different. Since we first heard the name a few years ago, there's been a significant rise in deaths of bōryokudan members. Given the clan membership of those who died, the Aka-Ikka are to blame."
"Sako-sama, I am grateful for the opportunity, but—"
"I know, it sounds like a lot, but you are one of the most capable officers here, Niijima-san. Beside your skill, your numbers are great," Sako said as he flipped open a tan file. "It doesn't hurt that the top brass actually likes you after recent events."
"Sako-sama—"
Sako disregarded whatever concerns Makoto had, which she did expect, but still offended her nonetheless. He continued anyway. "We tried investigating a few years ago but got nothing but breadcrumbs on their size, resources, and especially their leader. He remains unidentified."
No wonder they're giving me this case. It's a dead-end. I'm going to be paid more to sit around and read files until my eyes dry out.
"Great."
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Niijima-san, and I expect great things from you and your team. You may request whatever you want for your squad and support, but both need approval from me and the higher-ups."
At least I get to choose who I work with. I think listening to Amada would be worse than trying to take down an unidentified yakuza boss.
"Is that everything, sir?"
"You're free to begin, Niijima-san. Your updated salary will appear in the next payout," Sako said dismissively as he waved her away. She stood up and began to walk out. A few additional words from Sako stopped her just as she crossed the door. "Remember, Niijima-san. A clan war is brewing. Watch your step."
Makoto accepted the advice and closed the office door behind her, not looking as she took her next steps directly into another officer. "Oh, my apo— Sanda-san?" Sanada apparently waited outside the door for her.
"Happy about the new gig?" he excitedly asked. Despite the age under his eyes, and how little he showed emotion, Sanada still showed that he cared about Makoto's career.
"I don't know yet. It sounds like it's going to be a lot of file work rather than actual police work."
"Makoto," Akihiko said as he put his hand on her shoulder, "you're still doing police work. You're doing detective work. This is something that no one else has been able to solve. The bosses think you're the one who could do it."
"Or they want to put me behind a desk all day."
Akihiko looked away from Makoto. "Yeah, maybe." Makoto got the hint he knew something about the bosses choosing her, but she didn't want to pry yet. She had too much to plan, especially with who would be on her team for the investigation.
"Sanada, what do you think about joining my team for the investigation?" Makoto inquired. Akihiko had the most experience of any of the coworkers she consider herself close to, making him an easy choice.
"Can't. I've got a big backlog to get through. That Kubo case fucked up my whole process," Akihiko said. "Besides, this is your case, Makoto. This is your big break."
Not nearly as optimistic as Akihiko, Makoto didn't object to his sentiment. He had only been kind to her and had been the only veteran officer to actually give her a chance on more high-profile outings.
Even if they ended in bloody murder.
"Woah, Yukiko!" Chie amazedly exclaimed as she watched her best friend down yet another shot. "How many is that?!"
Yukiko hiccupped. Everyone else at the table accepted it as a suitable answer, so their excited banter resumed.
Makoto excluded, of course. She'd picked a few of her closest acquaintances on the force as her squad, before giving in to their idea of celebrating.
"More drinks and Yukiko's future will be in jeopardy…" Chihaya mused, having quite a bit to drink herself. Her red face and messy, long blonde hair gave off the impression that she may have even downed more than Yukiko.
Yukiko hiccupped again. "Jeopardy?! Ish thaaat a threat?!" Yukiko's hidden fierceness always came out at strange times. A celebration of getting promoted probably shouldn't warrant anger from anyone, but Yukiko's strangeness eluded Makoto. She never knew how the girl would react.
Still, Makoto preferred her over other people on the force. Yukiko actually showed some degree of intelligence and already had a semi-significant case under her name. Something about proving election fraud in a small-scale organization. Makoto couldn't recall the details.
Her next pick for the squad, Chie Satonaka, could be considered Yukiko's complement. Chie didn't exhibit the same smarts as her friend, but she did excel on the physical side of things. A Satonaka patrol ending in a footrace never ended well for the one being chased, especially with Chie's raw emotion getting in her way sometimes. Chie took sips of her own drink and laughed as Yukiko had even more to drink.
"Mako? You not gonna celebrate your own big day?" Chihaya asked as she took a sip of a drink that the bartender, Lala Escargot, put together for her. Chihaya's affinity for fate meant that her police work often took some damage, but she did have deadly intuition. Chihaya possessed the habit of being spot on with many things, but she did place too much trust in that power. Quite a few cases had been dismissed on her baseless claims that required her third eye to gaze into the void to discover misdemeanors.
"If she doesn't want to drink, she doesn't want to drink." The other one not drinking, at least so far, sat next to Makoto. Mamoru Hayase, a former prodigious kendo star in high school before giving it all up, could be described as the all-around guy for Makoto's team. He had Chie's physical ability, decent intelligence plus detective skills, and just seemed to enjoy being a police officer. To Makoto, his silence and antisocial attitude stood as his only flaws.
Makoto wondered why Mamoru even decided to join them at Crossroads if he didn't plan on speaking much or having anything from the bar. At least the final member of the team just rejected the offer instead of tagging along to be quiet. Makoto almost faulted Mamoru for it until she realized she was currently doing the same thing.
Mamoru's quiet tonight, but he has no excuse because he didn't kill —
"Fuck it," Makoto said as she finally gave in, if only to take her mind off her actions. "Lala-chan! Could we please get some more shots?" she called up front, realizing that she would most definitely end up regretting this.
"Woooh! Go, Mako!" Yukiko cheered as the celebration continued inside the empty bar.
Makoto regretted those shots as she stumbled through the cold, empty streets of Yongen. Her first day with actual authority at the office awaited her in less than eight hours, but she wobbled around instead of going home to sleep.
As if she could make it home. Makoto never had any reason to go to Yongen until drunken spontaneity and a bad idea from Chie brought the group to Yongen for one thing: the batting cage. Perhaps it seemed like a good idea in what felt like a lifetime ago, but it only became the most recent addition to Makoto's list of regrets.
Plus, to top it all off, they left her alone. Chihaya stayed in Shinjuku, Mamoru hit twenty home runs in the cage before leaving early, while Yukiko and Chie snuck off somewhere while Makoto stood up to bat. By the time she had swung and missed by a foot on the last pitch, Makoto and the poor man working the midnight shift of a damn batting cage had been left miserably alone.
Her shambling continued. Out of Makoto's drunkenness, safety had been placed last on her list of things to worry about. Tokyo certainly wasn't a city that young women, alone and drunk, wanted to be caught up in.
At least Yongen seemed alright. On the other hand, if Makoto found herself in Shinjuku… things probably wouldn't be going so well.
Makoto tripped over the curb and nearly at shit on the sidewalk. As she attempted to stand up through her swimming vision, the street looked different. It had grown more narrow and winding, especially—
Oh… I just turned onto a new street.
Makoto giggled at herself for a moment before she continued trying to walk. The subway station could have been at the end of the road, but Makoto still doubted it. She knew that walking randomly only dug herself more into her current hole, but it couldn't get any worse, right?
As Makoto walked, the building next to her lit her up from its interior lights. She carefully stepped forward, not taking any chances with that pesky curb, and looked through the window.
A coffee shop!
Coffee sounded incredible. It'd help Makoto make the final push to the subway station. Not only that, but the lights being on inside indicated a sign of life in the desolate streets of Yongen. Whoever occupied the shop could tell Makoto where she could find the subway station!
Eager at what could be her only chance to get home safely, Makoto shuffled over to the door before knocking.
Nothing from inside. Makoto leaned over to look through the window again, nearly falling as she tried to determine whether to wait or not. The light came from a staircase, leading up to something , that Makoto guessed was twenty feet from the door. She decided to wait a few more seconds.
However, being drunk, impatient, cold, and lonely, Makoto knocked again, this time more urgently, but it came through in a sloppy pattern that Makoto would've found grating if she wasn't so inebriated.
Just as she raised her fist to knock again, a shadow flickered on the stairs. Makoto peered inside through the window again, this time with unconsciously hindered breath. The shadows grew stronger as it came down the stairs with its owner not far behind.
A tall, slender man, roughly Makoto's age, with shaggy black hair came down the stairs. He wore an apron over… a rain jacket?
"Ish that… mmh," Makoto forgot all about it mid-sentence. This man looked nice, and only that mattered. Oh, and that he'd be speaking to her in about… three seconds.
The man came to the door and frowned when he saw Makoto, but still opened it. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Ooh, he must be busy!
Makoto felt eager to intrude, but not even alcohol could obliterate manners that her parents had instilled in her so many years ago. "I'm… yes…" Makoto said as she rubbed her face, pinching her cheek to give herself some semblance of clarity. "Sub?"
"Sub? A sandwich?" The man cracked a smile, tipping Makoto off that he just poked fun at her. She nearly pouted until she realized that she was the nonsensical one.
"No… sorry… subway station?" she slurred.
"Ah." The man continued with his smirk before he stepped out of the doorway and into the street with Makoto. He grew dangerously close to Makoto until she just realized that her body had leaned itself forward.
Whoops.
She adjusted her posture as the man looked around the street, seemingly taking note of all their surroundings. Makoto had no clue what the man searched for, but he didn't seem to find it. He turned around, closed the door to the shop, and locked it with a key that he deposited in the pocket of his rain jacket after he finished with the door.
"The station's a bit far and you seem a bit too… wobbly to get home," the man said as he looked Makoto in the eye. Drunk and existing as the most simple version of herself, Makoto liked his eyes. She really liked them . Their blackness reminded Makoto of something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She'd get it eventually, she just had to— "Tell you what. I have a friend who lives over here. She owes me a favor, so you can stay with her."
Seemed like a good idea to Makoto. Her apartment, while clean and decent enough, only served as a reminder of how little she really had in life. "Yes," Makoto said, nodding until it made her too dizzy. She began to tilt, but the man reached forward and caught her. His hand slipped around the small of her back, gracefully pulling her back to her feet.
Makoto giggled at the movement and at the man's soft touch. The man didn't relinquish his arm, leaving it over her shoulder, as he took the first few steps with Makoto. He guided her out of the narrow street in front of the coffee shop to what Makoto remembered as the wider one she'd been on a few minutes before.
"So what's your name?" Makoto asked, feeling the pressure to be social with her savior.
"Fuzzy Dunlop," the man said.
"That's a funny name," Makoto mumbled as she held onto him for support. She giggled at Fuzzy's name. She knew he gave her a fake name, but she couldn't care less.
The man said nothing for a few seconds until he retorted with the same question. "And yours?"
"Makoto Niijima," she said. Drunkenness gave her an awful amount of pride in just saying her name. Perhaps she wanted Fuzzy to remember it.
"And what's Makoto Niijima doing in Yongen at midnight, very, very drunk?" Fuzzy asked.
"Erm… I'm a, uh," Makoto sloppily maneuvered her way through the sentence before nearly completing it with emphasized finality, "police officer and—"
"Police, huh?" Most people had at least a few interested-sounding questions for Makoto when she told them about her job, but not Fuzzy. In fact, he sounded upset at her career.
It didn't matter. He walked her up a few stairs and to a door before knocking loudly. Makoto flinched at the first knock because of its loudness, but she quickly grew used to it. However, Ren didn't stop knocking until the door swung open with a very angry, and gorgeous, woman standing on the other side of it.
The woman, with her dark eyes and dark bob cut, immediately looked at Makoto with annoyance. "Oh, goddammit, R—"
"No no no, Tae. You owe me, so at least hear me out: she's not doing so hot right now, so why not let her stay the night on your couch?"
"I don't want your one-night stand on my couch."
"She actually just showed up at my door, but that doesn't matter," Ren said before he immediately upped the stakes of the deal. "I'll pay you."
"Dammit…" Tae looked Makoto over once again. Makoto tried to make a blubbering fool of herself, though she couldn't tell if she succeeded or failed. "I don't want your money. She can stay here," Tae said before she moved out of the way.
Fuzzy patted Makoto on the back, encouraging her to go inside. Makoto turned around, giving Fuzzy an unexpected hug, and saying a few words of thanks to him. "Thanks, Fuzzy," Makoto said as she stepped into the building.
He waved goodbye but didn't smile. As Tae shut the door, Fuzzy pierced through Makoto with his eyes, not moving as the door came to a close.
"Alright, let's get you settled," Tae said before leading Makoto over to a couch. "I'll wake you up in the morning. Don't move from this couch until then, alright?"
"Mmm," Makoto hummed as she laid down. Her head swam as she rested on her side, but pleasant thoughts of her new acquaintance calmed her. She drifted off into sleep with no worries about what she'd done earlier that week.
Ren slowly walked back down the cold street, troubled by the recent discovery. A police officer in Yongen at midnight… Why? What did they know?
Well, probably nothing. Her being drunk meant that she didn't want to do her job, likely because observing Ren Amamiya was quite boring. On days at the Leblanc coffee shop, he did very little besides stay in the shop and occasionally brew coffee for whatever guests stopped by. If he really felt daring, maybe he'd make a phone call or two.
Though he didn't spend many days at Leblanc. Tonight, however, was important.
Ren unlocked Leblanc with the key that he always kept on him. Inconvenient as he always found it, Ren knew that keeping the door locked, especially tonight could make or break his life. For instance, drunken cops lurked. That couldn't mean anything good.
Ren went back upstairs, still wearing his apron over his rain jacket. As he climbed the top of the stairs, he called out to make sure everything ran smoothly during his short trip.
"Ryuji?"
"Still here, man. Who was at the door?" Ren's friend replied, sounding a bit annoyed that Ren left the room during the most important part.
"Nobody." Ren got to the attic just in time to hear the captive's groans of pain. Ren walked over the sheets of plastic that they laid across the attic floor towards the poor guy as he looked him over. Bruises on his face, probably some on his abdomen but they were covered by his clothes, cuts below his eye, and a missing pinkie were the most immediately noticeable things.
That's the reason that this guy was in this chair, not just some other random grunt of Kamoshida's: his missing pinkie. Kamoshida's guys kept it old school, still performing unnecessary rituals such as the removal of a finger for punishment. This guy's missing pinkie made him easy to spot in public before bringing him in for interrogation.
As the prisoner noticed Ren, his eyes widened and he screamed into his gag. Ren didn't react, didn't even bat an eye, as he finished his approach and hovered above the prisoner, bound and gagged in a desk chair in the attic of the coffee shop.
"He say anything yet?" Ren asked.
"Nope," Ryuji answered. In his own rain jacket, he stepped towards the prisoner, who released another muffled scream, and grabbed him by the index finger. "But that'll change real soon."
"Ryuji," Ren said, getting Ryuji to stop the act of torture. "It can wait." Ryuji backed off, but Ren took his place. Instead of grabbing the prisoner by the hand, he calmly, yet with force, held the prisoner by the chin and removed the prisoner's gag. With the newfound freedom of his mouth, the prisoner gasped for decent breaths before trying to beg his way out.
At least he had the hope for a positive ending to the night.
"Tell me your name again," Ren ordered.
"Y-Yuuki… Mish-Mishima…" the man stuttered, not looking down so he didn't have to meet Ren's eyes.
"Tell me what Kamoshida and the rest of the Second Kaneshiro want with Koto?" Koto had previously been a sort of no man's land. The Yamaguchi had controlled it, but they allowed other clans to do business in Koto for a small fee a, more importantly, the Port of Tokyo. With Kubo gone and the Yamaguchi disintegrating, Koto's openness could either be an opportunity or a pain in the ass.
Currently, Ren considered it the latter.
"He wants… to seize control… Take Yamaguchi's place…"
"No shit." The simplicity of the response and Ren's continued gaze on Mishima forced the prisoner into revealing more.
"He's gonna ship in guns…"
"Why?"
"I… don't know…"
"Are you sure?" Ren said as he stood up straight and backed off
"Please!" It seemed Mishima had some brains. He knew that Ren already decided his fate. "I t-told you about—" Ren harshly grabbed Mishima by the chin, forcing the gag back into his mouth. Mishima screamed into the gag, tears emerging from his pleading eyes.
"Well, boss, you want this one?" Ryuji asked as he pulled his silenced pistol out of his pocket and offered it to Ren. Ren emotionlessly watched as Mishima looked at the gun like it was Satan himself.
It had been a while since Ren's last, so he took a few seconds to consider. "If this is the one that they get us for, I'd rather go down for murder than ordering a murder."
"Fair enough."
Ren held the gun to Mishima's head. He angled it face down against Mishima's head to minimize the inevitable gore, and hopefully have most of the blood caught by the plastic sheets on the floor.
"Sorry. If you live, you tell Kamoshida what you told us. Either he kills you or you come back around with him to kill us. Can't take any chances."
Mishima closed his eyes and whimpered into the gag.
At least he's taking it well.
"No hard feelings, okay, Yuuki?" Ryuji quipped.
Ren pulled the trigger.
A/N: Welcome to my new fic. I know it isn't a new TKOSA, but I promise that I'll be updating that soon. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this. While on break from TKOSA, I wanted to branch out a little and try new things with my writing. That's how this got made.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading, and have a great day.