Heh...just when you thought you were free of the too-long flashbacks...mwa-hahaha...
Anyway, I'd like to apologize yet again for how long it's taken me to get this up. Life has been hectic and I've really not been in the proper state of mind for creative writing lately...getting this chapter out has been a struggle, but I'll do my best to earn my reviews from my thankfully patient readers.
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A metallic clicking sound that reminded him of old yakuza movies echoed just behind Karuta, bringing his attention around. Sakiyama was now conscious; sitting against the railing of the catwalk with one arm clutching his injured side...the other held a well-polished handgun, the barrel aimed directly at Karuta's head.
"You have no idea." Sakiyama sneered as he pulled the trigger.
BAM!
Karuta suddenly snapped awake, thrashing briefly in his bedcovers before gaining his bearings. He could hardly see the figure of a kindly smiling woman standing over him through his sleep-filled eyes, leaving him to weakly rub the bleariness away. The cheery smile of an angel greeted him, all laughter and bearing a now spent party-popper in her hands.
"Geez mom, what kind of wake-up call is that?" the boy grumbled as he scratched a hand through his short, bed-mussed hair. He pulled his hand away and found that his head was covered in confetti streamers from the popper...how annoying.
"What else but a birthday wake-up call, right kiddo? Or did you forget it again? It's not every day a guy turns thirteen." she replied with a joking edge, her smile never wavering as she sat down on the bed beside her child. Karuta was instantly swept up into a warm hug, her chestnut hair filling his vision as he returned the embrace fully. It wasn't until he pulled away that he realized the long brown hair was topped with a gaudy purple and green party hat. Where did she find the time to pick these sorts of things up?
"Well, that's all fine and good...come and wake me when I turn fourteen, okay?" he grumbled softly as he quickly tried to bury himself back under the covers for a bit more sleep. His mother would have none of that and physically dragged the poor boy from his bed with a surprising amount of ease on her part. He landed on the carpeted floor with a dull thump and tried to make the best of the situation by wrapping his blanket around him to sleep there.
"Up, up, up! You are not going to spend your birthday snoozing; I'll have none of that. We've got things to do today, after all!" his mother chimed far too brightly for so early in the morning.
"I thought birthday events were planned by the person having the birthday..." Karuta muttered, his arms crossed huffily over his chest even as she dragged him by his ankles across the floor. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a rise...
"They are...usually. But I know if I let you run the show you'll just sleep in late, train with your Eevee for a few hours, spend a few more hours after that at the dojo, and then come back just in time for dinner without a single thought of your poor mother's desire to spend time in what precious few years she has left with her only son before you're all grown and moving out...leaving me alone and forgotten..." she went on with growing melodrama upon every word, finally gesturing dramatically at the finish of her guilt trip. Just leave it to a mother to pull off such a feat...still grumbling about the situation, the boy clambered up to his feet and shooed his mother from the room so he could get dressed. Maybe if he pretended he was taking a long time, he could sneak in a few more minutes of sleep...
Even after a good deal of stalling on his part, his mother had still managed to get him out and going early enough. He could always trust his mother to plan things for him when he didn't want to...he couldn't hold it against her even if he'd wanted to. She was also so happy and cheerful, especially when she was spending time with him. How could he say no to her when she was smiling so brightly? Because of that he went along with her plans of taking him shopping for his birthday...it was mainly stores she wanted him to go to, her ever-in-vain urgings to wear something other than black ignored tactfully as usual. Shunning the more popular shops in the mall, the drably dressed boy made a beeline for the bookstore and drove his eager mother up the wall waiting for him while he meticulously picked out his choices. They had skipped breakfast and when he brought up the subject of lunch, his mother just shook her head and gave him a scolding look.
"You don't have time to eat now...we may have gotten some of your presents, but that doesn't mean you can just slack off even now. You've got practice in an hour and you're not skipping out on it." His mother nodded dutifully.
"But...I thought you didn't want me going to the dojo today...you said so earlier." Karuta was a bit confused, though his mother didn't offer a reply before dismissing his question with a wave of her hand.
"Nonsense. You've got responsibilities to your training and I'm not going to stand by while you ignore them. Besides, by the time you're done and home, dinner will be ready. Since it's such a special day, I'm making that stew you like so much."
"What happened to your 'desire to spend time in what precious few years—'"
"Don't mock your mother...now c'mon, I'll drop you off on the way home."
"But my uniform—"
"Already in the car, I packed it this morning."
"But—"
"And we're off!"
Karuta found himself once again being dragged away by his enthusiastic mother...oh well...perhaps it was best if he didn't ask any questions.
Time was moving so slowly all of a sudden...what an annoying change in atmosphere. Karuta's entire vision was filled with the sight of that cold, black gun barrel bearing down on him nearly point-blank. The muscles in Sakiyama's finger tightened as he squeezed the trigger...whether it was from the Ditrean or just the surrealistic situation, Karuta could practically see the movement of tendons under the man's skin. A sharp click of the firing pin was drawn out like a gong sounding by the slowness of time's pace, leaving it echoing in his ears.
So this was what it was like when one's life flashed before their eyes. He had expected it to be a bit more disjointed as nothing more than a jumble of scenes and half-memories...but somehow everything was vivid and crisp, the memories playing through his head in their entirety despite taking only a fraction of a moment.
Breathe in...move...breathe out...
The movements of the youth were fluid and well practiced, each stance flowing into the next after being polished by countless hours of exercise. He had started out slowly and gradually sped up until his feet and fists were lashing out at such high speeds they seemed to snap the air as they were drawn back from the practiced move. The kata was not an especially difficult one and he's long since learned it by heart, now blending it in with others he knew as well as tossing in his own step where he thought improvement could be used.
It was quiet in the dojo...he'd always liked that. There was nobody there but himself and the photos that lined the walls of the training hall. It wasn't the first time he'd been the only student around, especially at this time of day when everyone else was on his or her way home for dinner. None of the teachers were present either...but that wasn't bad either. It gave him time to think and move at his own pace, running through his kata one by one in rapid succession. The only sound was the light shuffling of his gi and the sound of his own breaths echoing in the old wooden hall.
The sound of the sliding door being pushed open brought the youth spinning on his heel to face a possible threat; his hands already up in fists to greet whoever would interrupt his training. The man at the door was tall and thin, looking rather gaunt thanks to his messy black hair and unshaven appearance. He was dressed in a dull gray suit, though the collar of his white shirt and his tie were undone, the jacket folded casually over his arm. The man shook his head a little and snuffed a cigarette beneath his foot outside the dojo's doorway.
"You kids these days...such sloppy movements, all flash and show. I bet you wouldn't last a moment with those moves in a real fight." The man grumbled as he stepped up into the dojo and worked at getting his shoes off.
"What the hell do you know about it, you old office-worker? Why don't you just get out of here before I lay into you." Karuta scoffed at the man as he crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.
There was a short moment of consideration between the two, their eyes meeting in a way that seemed to send the electrical charge of challenge across the air between them. However, any potential attack was waylaid as the man began to laugh kindly and hurried forward with outstretched arms. Karuta's defiance evaporated at the gesture and he eagerly returned it, embracing the man with a broad grin across his face.
"I'm glad you made it back, dad...it must've been hard to get here all the way from Saffron." The boy sighed as he finally stepped away from his father.
"The commute is worth it, all in all. The big-wigs up in the executive branch didn't want me to leave, but I stood right up to them and said 'It's my boy's birthday and I'll be damned if I miss it.'" the shaggy man replied with a grin rivaling his son's. The grin softened into a bit of a smirk as he stared thoughtfully into space. "It'll be nice to see your mom again...she helped plan this, y'know."
"I was wondering why she was so adamant on me showing up to practice today..." Karuta chuckled as his father ruffled his hair playfully.
An air of quiet settled over the two for a long moment as they sat motionless on the floor of the dojo. Outside was the sound of the trees rustling softly in the passing breeze...it was so nice, Karuta thought, being like this. He had missed his father dearly while the man worked to support them off in Saffron...the thought that his old man had actually managed to make it home in time for his birthday seemed too good to be true; like it was a good dream.
With suddenly bleary eyes, Karuta abruptly realized that it was nothing but that...just a dream. Sprawled on the floor of the dojo, he slowly sat up and rubbed at his eyes. He'd fallen asleep...he looked around for a moment of hope to see if perhaps it wasn't really all just a result of his wandering mind. A deep sigh parted his lips as he slowly got up and gathered his normal clothing to change back into...perhaps some things really were just too good to be true.
The darkly dressed trainer's mind flashed with a few annoyed thoughts...here he was facing death and this was the show his brain was bringing up in his own private 'This Was Your Life'? Why not the good memories? He had a few that always stood out when he really thought about the past...it wasn't all pain and regret. Like when he first met his very first starter pokemon, Eevee and then the day the little guy finally evolved into Umbreon. Those lazy summers spent wandering and training...getting accepted into Pokemon Tech...meeting his academy sweetheart and that first wonderful, nervous, clumsy night together...
He wanted to move, to dodge in a way that would practically defy physics in order to remove himself from the line of fire and save his life yet again. He could practically feel the Ditrean pulsing in his veins as his heart beat a hundred times within the split-second it would take for that bullet to travel the mere inches to pass through his head and whisk him away from the world. But there just wasn't any time...
I don't want to die...I can't die here. I've survived too much for it to end like this. he thought desperately as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. I can't die with this weight on my soul...I just can't...
Click...
Time had moved slowly before, it would seem, but now it came to a screeching halt. An expression of utter disbelief marked the faces of all as the trigger was pulled completely back. There was no roar of gunfire, no blast of heat and smoke, and most importantly no bullet rearranging the contents of Karuta's skull. Sakiyama's eye twitched softly as he stared at the gun in his hand...
"Th-the safety..." the man moaned.
Then, all at once, time decided to resume its normal pace to make up for the recent amount of lagging it had been doing. With a near snarl on his lips, Karuta lashed out at Sakiyama with a backhand to the jaw that dropped the man to the catwalk and sent his gun clattering off the edge. It fell rapidly down into the sea of Muks below and vanished into one with a wet sound, melting away so quickly that the gunpowder didn't even have time to detonate as the acidic bodies simply dissolved the bullets away into nothingness. Sakiyama didn't have time to bemoan his fate any further as he was grabbed by the front of the shirt and hauled to his feet by Karuta, held at arm's length as he was dealt another blow across the face and dropped to the floor a second time. He retched as he landed, blood and two broken teeth spurting from his mouth and staining his nice, crisp suit.
"Tell me again why we even brought this ass along?" Amos grumbled as he nudged the stunned man with the toe of his boot. "And why we didn't frisk him first?"
"It's better to have him where we can see him...besides, a hostage is always good to have as a bargaining chip or a shield; whichever is more useful." Karuta started to hoist Sakiyama a second time but was suddenly set staggering to the side, grabbing onto the railing for balance as the whole catwalk heaved.
The group was left staggering for balance on the shaking catwalk, fearful eyes darting for the source of the movement. Apparently their little stint had not gone unnoticed by the horde of Muks below and many of the blobby creatures were reaching up for the overhang with dripping grasps, their acidic fingers closing around parts of the catwalk before slipping from the distance. It was enough for each touch to eat away bits of the supports, leaving the wrought metal walkway to sway dangerously to the side.
Not wasting any time, the three beat a hasty pace along the shifting walkway, Karuta still dragging their captive along by the shirtfront. It was only a matter of yards until they reached the drainage pipe on the other side of the room that would lead them away from this foul-smelling nightmare...
Amos charged along steadily, though regretting his heavy boot-falls as each step he took made the catwalk quiver beneath them. His broad hand was pressed to Nozomi's back to urge her on ahead of him despite the panicked retreat leaving her with just gasping breaths to deal with. She was clutching the gunnysack to her chest like it was a lifeline, a look of desperation on her face as she hurried along. He had to make sure she got out of this safely...this sort of world wasn't hers...she didn't belong here.
The tall man gave a sudden cry and stumbled as a burning pain shot up his left leg like daggers piercing his skin. He hit the grating hard and winced as he saw the reaching hand of a Muk lowering back into the sea of ooze below them, the proof of its touch on his now scarred flesh. He fought the instinct to cling to his exposed leg, his pant leg dissolved away in an instant to show the acidic splash that had burned away his skin and a good deal of muscle, his leg seeping blood that washed away the discolored goo.
"Amos! Oh God, Amos!" Nozomi cried out as she halted her retreat, darting back to her fallen friend and dropping the sack in her hurry to get to him. She gripped his shoulders tightly to try and pull him up, grimacing at the sight of his injured leg. She could've sworn she'd seen a glimpse of bone, but refused to think of such a thing.
"Damnit, Nozomi, don't worry 'bout me! We've gotta get outta here..." he grunted as he gingerly rose upright with a broad fist clinging to the railing for balance. He wouldn't be able to use that leg for quite a while, he thought...he hated hospitals, but this one wasn't a first-aid kit sort of burn.
"Will the both of you hurry the hell up?!" Karuta snapped back at them, glaring over his shoulder as he shoved Sakiyama ahead of him sharply.
The suited man stumbled forward, catching himself on the railing before he fell onto the catwalk a second time. Karuta was just about to shove him along again when he whirled about a second time, the glint of gunmetal flashing in his hand as he withdrew it from a hidden holster at his hip. He was offered no quarter as his arm was grabbed and the weapon forced out of his grip only to earn another blow across the jaw. Karuta let him stumble back this time and walked past him with a disgusted shake of his head, reaching down to tug on the back of his jacket and drag him bodily along the shaking walkway. The drainage pipe that would act as their exit was close now...just a few more steps and...
BAM!
Karuta shuddered and fell forward hard onto his knees, his bones ringing with the impact on the cold metal. A lance of pain was wedged in his right shoulder, leaving him to hold the wound tightly and finding such a gesture staunching the sudden flow of blood. Glaring over his shoulder with teary eyes, Sakiyama's back was all he could see...another gun? It must've been a wild shot to only hit his shoulder...How many of those damn things did he have?
The man's triumphant, pained, laugh sounded oddly hollow as he rounded upon the other two, the small handgun barrel leveled squarely at Amos' chest. That man was the only other threat...get rid of him and it would be no problem getting back to the Underground unhindered. The sound of clicking mechanisms rang out as a new bullet loaded itself into the chamber and exploded its charge to come whirling down its path.
Once again, time seemed to slow itself...each of those gathered held their own perspectives of what was happening.
Karuta, kneeling in pain upon the catwalk, could see only the grasping hands and mouths of the Muks below through cracked glasses, blood pouring through his fingers.
Sakiyama relished the twitch of the gun in his hand as it fired upon his already injured enemy...so easy a kill it would be...
Amos was torn between emotions, feeling both ashamed of himself and bursting with rage at the world in general...this was not how he wanted to die...there had to be something...something!
Nozomi...
The girl's mind was blank as the world moved in slow motion...the thoughts of their dangerous position, the Muks below, the hell that was behind them, everything...it was simply gone. There wasn't a conscious decision as she felt herself moving, pushing out from beneath Amos' arm where she had been supporting him. Her body simply moved of its own free will, doing what her instincts told her not to do...likewise, she heard the scream, but didn't realize it was her own as the shot struck her in the belly.
She and Amos crumpled together onto the catwalk, both unable to support themselves under their own power from the sudden injuries brought upon them. It was such an odd feeling, Sakiyama realized, being the last man standing...sneering down at the disabled pair before him allowed a brief moment of satisfaction before the jerking walkway reminded him just how bad a position he was in. The path wouldn't last long...he'd have to take the full route out to the surface and double back into the Underground from the Northern entrance now...oh well. It was a long trip, but he had the time to spare now. Holding the rail for balance yet again, he worked his way along towards the exit of the room.
"Bastard..."
Sakiyama stopped sharply as his leg was suddenly refusing to move along with him, his ankle caught in a tight grip. Turning quickly, he found himself caught by Karuta's blood soaked hand...he could see the wound through the hole it had made in his shirt...already closing? Damn that Ditrean...there was no way the boy would pose that much a threat even now, but that healing didn't settle well. Sakiyama managed a smirk and raised the gun to aim once more for Karuta's head.
"You're nothing but a piece of trash, you know that Blackjack? Take me hostage, eh? I hope you have a good time burning in hell with that worthless father of yours." He spat down at Karuta.
The sound of gunfire didn't seem to bother the Muks at all...they were seemingly content with reaching up, eating away at the supports of the walkway to try and bring down those creatures to them...they were hungry...the cement and old iron they absorbed only offered so many base minerals...
The first two gunshots caught their attention, but it was nothing to worry about...nor did the third bring any care. Nor the forth...the fifth...the sixth...
Sakiyama choked sharply, bending over himself as he staggered backward unsteadily, blood suddenly spurting from his mouth in a fresh wave. His clean, pressed suit was torn asunder as bullet holes appeared across his front, the nice white undershirt turning dark red. His look of disbelief seemed to be permanently burned on his face as he gasped and gurgled, words unable to form through the blood and bile filling his wide-open mouth. Karuta held tight to his ankle to keep him from going back too far, his glare set narrowly as he gave the man's leg a sharp tug. Off balance already, Sakiyama needed no more influence before he hit the side railing hard in the belly, a wet cry echoing from his throat as he spun over the rail and fell out of sight into the horde below.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click....
Karuta knelt a long moment upon the shaking catwalk...the Muks were sated for at least this moment...they were too distracted now to pay attention to tearing down the path just now. All he could hear was the horrible voices of the monsters as if they were cheering their good fortune and the cold echo of a trigger being pulled without bullets to fire.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click....
"Amos...that's enough...good timing, though." Karuta groaned as he slowly got to his feet, gripping his shoulder once more. That wound would definitely take some time...the bullet had gone through, so at least he wouldn't have to worry about—
His mind blanked as he turned, finding Amos still laid out upon the catwalk with his face turned away. Wide eyes trailed slowly to see Nozomi standing there, green hair framing the panicked look on her tear-stained face...blood flowed slowly down the front of her clothing, rivulets running down her legs and dripping down through the metal grating. Her hands were clenched tightly around the gun he had knocked away from Sakiyama before, knuckles white as her hooked finger continued to pull at the trigger over and over, her face showing how her mind simply did not yet accept what she had done.
"Oh God..." Karuta wheezed.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click....