Chapter 20

Awaken Kiwami [Part 1]

There were a few images Akira was aware of over the next moments… or was it seconds? Minutes? Days? All he knew was that some amount of time was passing, and his body felt heavy. He blinked and was surrounded by darkness. The only reason he knew he had blinked was he could feel his eyelids moving. All around him was not but this heavy darkness, save for the muffled, distant sounds that occasionally broke through into his consciousness. He knew not what they were, nor that they were even real, for jumbled among the sounds of the lake by his house, the waves crashing against the sand followed by a crane's call rising then being cut off, was also a half a second of angry screaming coming from Ann.

The darkness was broken, so he thought, by the light of the summer sun beating down on him as he sat on the sand, hunched over and watching hazy images of his friends coming up from the lake's waves. The colors and shapes seemed to breathe gently, then quickly cut to different positions and distances toward or away from him. But no matter how distorted the image was, it seemed familiar. A part of his mind, a part that could only be described as "distant", whispered to him that this was a memory, and that whisper than made his head hurt for a moment like when one realizes they are dreaming while still being asleep.

In the blink of an eye, the bright sunlight of noontime became the flowing painting of colors of the evening, and his friends were a ways off to his right, seemingly preparing a barbecue with the help of his parents. His father was a particularly popular cook in their hometown, though his mother was no slouch in that department either. But instead of smelling the siren call of steak perfectly grilling over charcoal, he smelled something musty, foul and burning, like a fireplace bringing the worst rotted wood possible to cinders.

It was at this moment that he felt physically jostled, and something bumped into him on his left. This weight than leaned against him, and he looked to it in a sort of nonchalant, hazy confusion. It was a young woman, head turned away from him, showing off her short black hair that then fazed into a blond color, and back to black. He said nothing but watched on, finding it difficult to ascertain the reason behind this strangeness, but not being entirely bothered by it. Something then clicked, and he remembered that yes, her hair should be black, and her bathing suit that evening was blue.

And it was the last night he would spend with her.

The girl fidgeted in place, looking out over the lake. It was then that Akira noticed too that there the breeze he loved so much, carrying light mist from the water to the shore, was not blowing across his face, nor gently sweeping his and his girlfriend's hair. Akira looked around, and the hazy environment became less and less distinct, like a half-finished painting where only the first layer of color had been completed. It was then that his heart began to race, and more and more alien, unfitting sounds, that of strange people and strange music, permeated the calm beach he called home since birth.

"Marie?" he asked the girl next to him on reflex, growing more worried at the situation.

"Hmm?" She turned her head slightly toward him, granting Akira the slightest glimpse of her emerald green eyes, her small lips, and high cheekbones. And in a flash, his heart fluttered gleefully, then broke into pieces, as it had so many times that night and the following morning.

Then it was dark, and he opened his eyes once again slowly, this time greeted not by his lake, but a small, dank smelling dark room with heavy, musty air that burned his nostrils. As he came to his senses, he swore he could see Marie in his periphery for just a second before the world came into focus, though it may have just been his eyes adjusting to the dark and seeing shapes where there were none, he surmised. He tried to move in his chair, but his hands were now cuffed as well. He tried to curse at the utter mess of a situation he found himself in, but his tongue was heavy like lead, and his mouth barley moved, producing only an unintelligible grunt of dissatisfaction. His jacket had been taken from him, he noticed, leaving him only in a dirty shirt and slacks.

Akira was breathing heavily, as if this was the first time since he was knocked out that his lungs were able to completely fill with air. He was sweating profusely as well, though whether it was from the stress of the situation, the awful room he was trapped in, or the wistful memories he had just experienced, he did not know. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead to the tip of his nose, and his heart pounded in his ears; even his breathing seemed somehow louder than normal. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and refocus when the door in front of him flung open, and he felt an involuntary panic attempt to overtake him, which he had considerable difficulty repressing.

Entering the room was a cocky-looking, flashy yakuza. All parts of his outfit had gaudy gold trimming in addition to the large gold chain he wore around his neck. The yakuza chuckled as he looked over Akira's slouched form, scratching his chin with devious intent. Akira glanced at him, then looked back down to the floor, trying not to show any weakness that may give the yakuza further ideas.

"Hey, you," the man said in a scratchy, chain smoker's voice, "you're finally awake. Got captured at The Girly Gates, huh? Just like the rest of those kids Aniki hauled in."

"Where…" Akira mustered the strength to finally speak. "Where are they? Have you done anything to them?"

"Not yet. The big man wants to take his time with this one. You're all the bait, you see? And the entertainment."

"Entertainment?"

"Well, you especially will be. You're about to make your big debut, kid! The whole Family's been clamoring to see the Butcher in action!"

Akira's face scrunched up at that designation. "Butcher?" he asked, his tone lowering.

The yakuza let out a sharp whistle. "Hope that blow to the head didn't make you lose any memory. That won't do you any good when you're out on the stage."

"And what makes you think I'll just politely go out on your stage for your enjoyment?"

"Nothing, though I was hoping you'd just recognize the shit you're in and cooperate. But if you wanna get cocky…" The yakuza toppled his chair over and pressed his foot into Akira's gut, causing him to spit up some saliva as he gasped for air. "Now do you understand, kid?"

"Go fuck yourself…" Akira heaved, "with a knife!"

The yakuza's sneer snaked into a smile. "Oh, they're going to love you."

Akira was then led down a dark hallway, the sound of electronic music bleeding through the walls, seeming to come from above. He saw no sign of his friends, and was growing more worried about how they were going to escape this situation. It was not unlikely that a detective like Yagami was already on his way to help, but whether or not he would show up in time, or be able to fend off the unknown amount of yakuza reinforcements present, Akira could not say.

He was then thrown into a small room with no furnishings, the yakuza that accosted him slamming the door behind him. Akira got to his feet, trying to shake off the renewed pounding in his head. He thought of his friends, hoping they were still alive, wondering how long they had been trapped here. Could not have been too long, he guessed, since it only had been a slight knock over the head. All that was needed to focus on was getting his friends and escaping, but his focus was robbed as the walls in front of him parted, revealing themselves to be a door.

And beyond the door was revealed too a hallway, leading to a bright light at the exit. Two yakuza stood at either side of the door, beckoning him forward. Believing he had no choice in the matter, he trudged forward, mentally preparing for whatever he may come to face. Some building rock song played in the distance, and he then heard excited applause mingled amongst it. The anticipation and drive to save his friends pushed him forward at a greater pace until he emerged through the light, and before him was the fighting ring.

All around it were excited crowds of yakuza and hostesses, cheering gleefully as they imbibed their drinks. Akira guessed that two hundred men and women in total must have been holed up down here in this sort of theater, and the prospect of escaping suddenly became more dire.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" came a loud, excited voice over the intercom. "WELCOME TO THE SHOWCASE FIGHT OF THE DAY! Thank you all for attending on such short notice! Now, let's meet our stars of the ring!" The crowd erupted into more applause, and Akira looked around for a potential exit, but the guards that had opened the entrance for him now stood behind him, blocking his only feasible exit. "Contestants, please make your way to the ring!"

"Fuckin' move, kid!" one of the yakuza behind him shouted, nudging him forward. Akira sneered back at him, but walked forward anyway.

What kind of lunatic are they gonna make me fight? Why do they even want a fight? Hesitantly, he climbed into the ring, watching from side to side for any ambushers, just in case this whole thing was a setup.

"Our first contestant has made his presence known!" proclaimed the announcer. "Please give a warm welcome to the hottest talk of the town in years! He needs no introduction, but we'll give him one anyway! Behold! The meanest, deadliest, most brutal son of a bitch walking the mean streets today! His one-man raid on Kamoshida's palace is the stuff of nightmares, with some saying they're still trying to clean up the carnage he left in his wake! It's the butcher of kings himself, Akira Kurusu!"

The crowd hooped and hollered at his announcement, and Akira only grew angrier at the description and following excitement. "So, that's really what they think of me," he remarked to himself. "They think I'm some butcher." The memories of that day intruded his thoughts, as if taunting him with the possibility of that being the case.

"And opposing him," the announcer continued, "is our three-time champion! Winner of eighteen individual fights on top of those three legendary tourneys, it's Kyohei 'Machinegun Kiss' Hamura!"

Walking onto the stage to a chorus of thunderous applause was the same yakuza boss that had captured Akira and his friends earlier, this time sporting no shirt, showing off his chiseled body. Akira unconsciously lowered his stance as the man climbed into the ring, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. "You said you could hurt me in more ways than I can imagine, right?" Hamura smirked. "Well, now you got the chance to prove in front of all my friends. And I know they'd love a show like that."

"Where are my friends!?"

"Being taken care of," Haura stretched his arms across his chest. "Unfortunately, they're not nearly as interesting as you, kid."

The announcer than spoke again. "Fighters, get ready to throw down!"

Hamura chuckled, adopting a guarded karate stance. "I'm gonna make you a man today, boy."

Akira raised his right arm and lowered his left, exhibiting the Dragon Stance. There was no way out now, so all that was left to fight for freedom, and answers. "Shut up and fight," he sneered.

A bell rang out and Akira was barely able to react to Hamura charging him. He stepped to the left, letting his right arm push Hamura away from him. The older man retaliated with a wild haymaker as he spun around toward Akira, who blocked it but was still pushed back by the force with a grunt. Hamura then grabbed Akira's arm, pulling it away from his face so he could wallop him in the cheek, angling the punch downward to knock him to the ground. The crowd cheered as Akira slammed onto the floor of the ring, his whole face burning in pain.

"Get up, you little shit," Hamura beckoned him. "Show me you're not just talk!" Akira rolled onto his back and kicked the bottom of his feet into Hamura's shins, knocking him off balance. He grabbed Hamura's waist and pulled him to the ground, rolling on top of him to punch him three times in the eyes before being pushed off him. Hamura laughed once again as they both regained their footing. "A nice trick," he said, rubbing his eye. "Did you get that one from momma?"

"Don't you dare speak one word about my mother!" Akira attacked him with a flurry of punches and kicks, both wild and deliberate in their approach. Most made contact, but Hamura seemed not to notice. It was then that Akira felt a strong punch in his gut before being grabbed by the throat and slammed into the ground. As his vision went blurry, Hamura's foot then came crashing down onto his still healing sternum, causing him to howl in pain and tears to well in his eyes.

"Worthless scum," Hamura scowled down at him. He grabbed Akira by the mouth and hoisted him in the air. "Your mother was twice this strong at half your age," he continued before punching Akira in the stomach again. "Guess you only got her looks." Hamura beat into his chest and stomach many times more before kicking him away, sending him careening back down to the ground, unable to scream as the wind was knocked out of him.

The crowd cheered for Hamura and he lifted a fist into the air triumphantly, basking in the glory of his fight. Akira tried to stand to his feet, but all the strength in his body had left him. C'mon, fire thing! he pleaded with himself. Give me back… whatever that was!

It was then that a new voice sounded off from the top of the stands. "Fuckin' beautiful!" a man shouted. "You made me proud today, Hamura!"

Akira turned to where the voice was coming from, seeing Hamura turn around and look up into a box booth at the top of the seating. Sitting there, raising a glass of… something Hamura's way was a hideously fat pig of a man dressed in garishly gaudy clothing. He looked more like an overfed, overpayed hip-hop artist than your typical streetwise yakuza, but the fact that Hamura and everyone else present paid him respect upon simply speaking indicated otherwise.

And as Akira's vision came back into full focus, he then saw a blond woman in a cocktail dress sitting beside him, fidgeting uncomfortably as he held onto her, preventing her from escaping. Akira wiped the tears from his eyes, and his ears immediately began ringing from his rising anger when he saw that it was Ann. He clutched his stomach, trying to repress the vomit welling up in his gut and throat as he pried himself up off the ground.

"Couldn't imagine why!" Hamura called back to the man. "You wanted a butcher, and I got you a pussy kid!"

"Eh, still got a good fight! And the pussy kid isn't the only catch you brought to me!" He then tried to grope Ann's butt, prompting her to slap him across the face and try to wriggle out of his grasp once again. The fat man grabbed her by the waist and forced her down next to him, chuckling maliciously to himself.

The yakuza was so wrapped up in trying to rub up to Ann that he failed to notice Akira finally standing up straight again, breathing so heavily that Hamura heard it and turned around to see a completely, wrathfully pissed off young man clenching his fists at his side. "ENOUGH!"

The whole crowd quieted, only whispers breaking the silence. The focus was brought back to Akira, staring at the fat yakuza with a deadly glare. "I don't know who you are," he began, his voice becoming gravelly with anger, "I don't know what you want from us or what you think I am, but I'm coming up there, and I'll break every bone in your hands so you can't touch another woman again. Especially not her."

"Akira…" Ann muttered, feeling a renewed slight sense of security.

"Finally getting heated up, kid?" Hamura taunted him. "You want the big man, you'll have to go through me first."

"Fine by me." Akira cracked his neck and knuckles, then pointed up at the fat yakuza. "You're next," he glowered at him before returning his gaze to Hamura. "Round two."

"This oughta be good," said the fat yakuza.

Akira then felt a strong yet familiar sensation rise within him, starting in his core and moving through the rest of his body, enveloping it in a strange warmth from within. The world seemed to come into greater clarity, and the excruciating pain he was just enduring now faded to nothing more than an annoying discomfort. He then noticed Hamura stepping back a bit, his confident visage fading slightly. The crowd had gone silent, and as Akira was looking around at the shocked expressions adorning all viewers, he saw blue flames emanating from his shoulders and arms. He felt it with his hands, but they did not burn, only feeling a comfortable warmth against his fingers.

Akira breathed deep, and the flames increased around him. He smirked, and all witnessing are awestruck at the display. "You want a fight?" he prodded Hamura. "Then step right up!"

Hamura roared with determination, and Akira's eyes only narrowed as the older man charged him once again. With all his might, Hamura threw a gigantic punch his way, but Akira deflected it with a backhand that transitioned into a rapid roundhouse kick, pushing Hamura backward off-balance.

KYOHEI HAMURA

OMI ALLIANCE

Before the older man could react, Akira threw three punches his way, ending with a strike to the gut that stunned Hamura long enough for Akira to grab him by the shoulder and trip him with his feet. As Hamura lay on his back, Akira picked his head by the hair and roared as he punched his head back into the ground before stepping back. "C'mon," Akira taunted him, beckoning him with his hand, "we're not nearly done yet."

"Little shit," Hamura grunted as he got to his feet. "No amount of magic bullshit is gonna get you out of this alive!"

"Try me then." Hamura unleashed a flurry of blows that Akira effortlessly blocked and dodged, until the last one was thrown. He was hit it in the right shoulder, but instead of crumpling like he would have normally, he transformed that momentum into his own blow and knocked Hamura across the temple. Four more punches and one powerful haymaker later, Hamura was thrown to the ground, with Akira lunging forward into a leaping front flip that transitioned into a powerful axe kick, striking Hamura right across the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

The crowd was losing any and all composure they could hope to have as Hamura tried to roll over to get himself back up, but Akira grabbed him by the hair once again. Their eyes met, and Akira saw in his opponent's eyes fear, rage, and shame before he cried out and kicked him across the jaw, tearing out a handful of the older man's hair Akira then held in his hand.

Grunting loudly, Hamura stumbled to his feet, his vision blurring and his mouth filling with blood. "I… I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He put all his might into his famous Machinegun Kiss attack, throwing out punch after punch in a torrent. He had knocked out many men with this attack, and while Akira was blocking it, he knew he could not block forever. Everyone always broke after so many blows.

But then Akira cried out, threw his hands to the side, and deflected both of Hamura's fists.

In the half second he was allowed, Hamura was completely shocked. No one had ever been able to counter his combo, but then Akira punched him thrice in the face, once in the chest, and once in the gut, and Hamura could not help but fall to his knees. This time, he saw Akira's eyes, and they burned like the fires on his body. But that was the last thing he saw before Akira put his shoe to Hamura's face, covering his vision completely. "Lick my boot!" Akira cried before leaning his weight forward and driving Hamura's head into the ground.

Hamura laid on the ground completely stunned, and the crowd was on their feet cheering "BUT-CHER! BUT-CHER! BUT-CHER!" Ann even managed to fly to her feet, jumping up and down and cheering wildly with a wide grin on her face. Akira stood up, realizing that he barely even felt tired. He had just endured a grueling fight and likely suffered at least one more injury, but he barely felt anything except the incredible new strength he had somehow been blessed with.

He looked to the box seating to check on Ann and saw both her and the fat yakuza cheering for him. Their eyes met, and he glowered at him. Akira pointed at him, baring his teeth and snarled, "You're next!"

"I can't wait!" shouted the yakuza. "But first, give the audience what they came for! Show us the butcher!"

"BUT-CHER! BUT-CHER! BUT-CHER!" cheered the crowd once again.

"What?"

"Kill him!" the fat yakuza cried out. "Rip him to pieces with your bare hands like the stories say! Eat his arms, tear out his guts, anything!"

"Go to hell!" Akira shouted back. "I'll take down your whole Family if need be, but I'm no butcher!" Then, to the entire crowd, he proclaimed, "I will not kill this man!" The crowd immediately started booing him. "I will not kill another person again!"

The fat yakuza laughed as the crowd booed more. "So virtuous! Just like a real dragon, huh? Well, that'll at least make you an interesting test subject." He nodded to something off to Akira's left.

"Test subject?"

There was then a pinch in Akira's left arm, and the world lost all its color. His lucidity lapsed for a moment, and when it returned, he could swear his heart had stopped for a beat. Slowly, fearfully, he looked down at whatever had pinched him and saw a small needle jutting out of his shoulder. He removed it and looked at the tip, seeing a drop of blood mixed with some other viscous substance. To his left, he saw a man in a black coat and sunglasses looking at him. The man stuffed something in his coat and walked away.

That was when his ears started ringing, and Akira's head began to pound as his mouth went dry. He could swear that the crowd was cheering, but the world grew quieter, drowned out by the incessant throbbing in his head and pumping of his heart that turned to searing, mind-boggling pain in both areas. He held his head in his hands, stumbling backward as the monochromatic world around became tinged in red. He could barely think, his own thoughts being muddled and drowned out by the cacophony of pain and thumping that enveloped all his senses. His whole body began to shake, and it felt like the inside of his head was on fire. Not the flames that gave him great power, but as if someone was holding a torch in both his ears.

Everything around him sounded like it was underwater and distant, and he knew not what was even real anymore. This pain was unlike anything he could imagine, causing him to growl in discomfort like an animal as he tried anything to alleviate what he was experiencing. He held onto his head so tightly that his fingernails began to break the skin, causing blood to trail down his temple and cheeks.

Ann was beginning to panic at the sight; the fat yakuza guffawed at the entertainment, and Hamura simply watched, unable to move. Then Akira threw back his head and screamed the strongest, most agonized screech he had ever produced in his life. The flames that engulfed him intensified for a moment, becoming tinged in red before going out completely.

He continued to scream in pain, writhing about on the stage to the entertainment of all around him. Akira pressed on his head with all his might, trying to get the pain to stop, but it only intensified. He crumpled to the ground, punching the floor with his right fist so hard that his knuckles began to bruise and bleed. Through gritted teeth, he growled and screamed, his breaths turning to labored heaves. He then cried out again as he slammed his forehead to the ground, then again, then again, then again before throwing his whole body back and screaming once more.

Then Akira seemed to regain back some control of his body and he rolled over onto his front. Hamura backed away, regaining some strength from the beating he had endured until Akira's head snapped back, looking over his shoulder. Lines of blood fell down his head and drool pooled at the corners of his mouth. But what truly shocked Hamura was that Akira's eyes had turned a bright orange, clearly evident as they were open wide as they could be.

Hamura only barely had the chance to stand before Akira charged him like a feral animal, tackling him off the side of the ring and sending them falling to the ground below. Akira immediately climbed on top of him, growling in his throat, and started beating on Hamura's face and chest. He grunted and screamed as he wailed on him, the control and grace of an accomplished martial artist having been entirely lost to unintelligible rage. Luckily, this meant Hamura was able to regain control of the situation and throw Akira off of him, putting him in a hold as he pinned the boy to the ground.

Akira struggled and writhed under him, continuing to growl and scream in his throat, but the loss of his faculties meant he was unable to muster any kind of actual countermove against Hamura, who then slammed his face into the ground to try and stun him. This did not work, and Akira continued to struggle like a rabid dog caught in a trap, but only for a moment. Akira retched in his throat, spasming in Hamura's grasp before going limp. Hamura recoiled back to see the boy laying on the ground, frothing at the mouth and unconscious.

Then light pierced Akira's eyes, though all around him was fuzzy and unfocused. He could feel he was sitting up straight, but could not move, unable to even raise his head to look around. He ended up not needing to though when a large hand grabbed his thick black hair, pulling his head up for their eyes to meet. Akira could barely make out the image of a very fat, round head smirking at him only a few inches from his face.

"A real fuckin' disappointment," the yakuza said, though Akira could only barley understand it, his mind still not but haze. "I wanted a butcher; everyone wanted a butcher! And even with that tiny dose you still are nothing more than a pussy. At least we proved one thing." The yakuza then slapped him across the face and his head fell once again. "Dragons aren't invincible after all."

"Leave him alone, you fat fuck!" Ryuji's voice shouted out. "He's half dead as is, just leave him be."

"Shut your fucking hole!" the yakuza snapped back, walking back to his chair at the other end of the room. "In my place, I do anything I damn well please. That's why I got these two gorgeous moneymakers all to myself."

Wha…

"Don't touch me, asshole!" Ann shouted form somewhere in the darkness Akira found himself in once again.

"Let us go before it gets you killed!" Makoto added.

"If Sakura wants to come get this war started, fucking let him. Finally get some good entertainment around here! Could've had my fun for the day, but your friend turned out to be nothing but a fraud."

Ann…

Akira's eyes then shot open as his stomach churned far worse than any flu he had ever had in his life. He dry heaved once before vomiting all over himself twice, first releasing every bit of food in his stomach, then throwing up not but bile. He slumped over again in his chair, what little strength remaining in his body completely leaving him.

"Akira!" Ann called out. "Are you okay?! Say something!"

"Your boyfriend's coming down from the worst trip of his life," said the yakuza. "No wonder it's not agreeing with him."

Akira coughed out the rest of the vomit stuck in his mouth before attempting to lift his head, having been thoroughly woken up despite what his appearance would imply. The best he could manage was looking up to see the fat yakuza with Makoto and Ann on either side of him. They tried to wrestle against him, but Akira too noticed that he a gun in his right hand, as well as having three armed guards positioned around the small room. To his right were Ryuji and Yusuke, bound into their chairs just like he was. "Who…" Akira forced out, his throat burning as he tried to speak. "Who are you? What did you do to me?"

"And he speaks!" the yakuza proclaimed. "Good, his brain isn't completely fried. Wouldn't be the first time, honestly."

"Answer… the goddamn question," Akira gritted his teeth as he raised his head. Everyone around him got a glimpse of the ghastly pale, dirty young man draped in sweat and vomit, his bloodshot eyes still bearing a bright orange hue. As he breathed heavily and his sweat-drenched bangs fell down over his face, he appeared to be some kind of terrifying madman staring down the yakuza boss.

"Don't know why you're so impatient. It's not like you've got anywhere to be. Whatever. I'm Junya Kaneshiro, and I run this little joint in the name of the Omi Alliance."

Kaneshiro? That's the guy Makoto was looking to find.

"On the subject of your injection, I happen to know you're already familiar with the substance. That dumbass Tamura got you very high value sample."

"The RZ-412?" Yusuke asked. "That is what you're producing?"

"A variant of it, yes. Very low potency, believe it or not. Came from a waste batch so I kept it in my back pocket in case my boys needed some extra invigorating entertainment today. Good thing I did, cuz hero-boy here may have flash, but he's no butcher like what they came to see."

Ann tried to slap Kaneshiro but he only tightened her grip on her, leaning into her with his weight to effectively pin her to the couch. "You drugged him for entertainment!? To get him to kill your own man!?"

"We wanted a butcher, sugar tits. Not some pussy hero."

"You're sadists!" Makoto shouted. "Akira doesn't deserve to be treated like this! None of us do!"

"Hey, it wasn't all for nothing though."

"And why's that!?" Ryuji snapped.

"All my men will have exponentially renewed bravado in the coming war, after they've seen that there's nothing left of the Dragons than a worthless kid pretending to be a hero."

"Akira is a true hero!" Ann interrupted, growing even angrier. "He's a thousand times the man you'll ever be, you fat piece of shit!"

Kameshiro then slapped her back without hesitation, prompting a volley of curses from Ryuji, Makoto, and Yusuke. Akira's vision was still blurred and unfocused, but he was able to make out enough of what was going on to know what had happened. His tongue was still heavy, his mind hazy, but the barbaric treatment of his friends was enough to rouse that same great fire within him. It was weak, as was his body, but that heat was unmistakable.

"Get your hands off them," Akira growled.

Kameshiro took renewed interest in his captive. "Oh yeah? Or what? It's not like you can move."

"I'll get out of this. We'll all get out of this. And we'll burn your shitty army to the ground bit by bit if we have to."

Kameshiro smirked, then let out a pleased laugh low in his throat. "That's more like it."

"Huh?"

"That's the kind of energy I wanted to see from the start. You look like a fucking animal, kid, and with that high I gave you, you can fight like one too. That's what I was hoping to see from the Butcher of Kings."

Akira grunted, feeling enough strength return to his body that he was able to struggle against his binds. "You're wrong! I'm no butcher!"

"But you'd be so much more interesting if you were. Are you telling me you didn't kill Kamoshida?"

"I made a mistake!"

"A mistake? You rid the world of a sadistic rapist and murderer. Even I'm not into the shit he was into. Honestly, I should be thanking you for offing him. God knows I wouldn't want to deal with that mess while trying to start this war."

Akira and his chair then fell to the ground, having been thrown off balance by his angry struggling. Kaneshiro laughed heartily at the display as Akira tried to get himself back up, but to no avail. "You don't know anything about me! Not a damn thing! I'm not a butcher!"

"But there's still blood on your hands, kid! And that just makes your resistance more hilarious!" Kaneshiro guffawed once again. "I can't wait to ship you all off to my boss. He's gonna have special jobs for all of you," he leered at Makoto and Ann. "Especially you two. Apparently one of his buddies pays handsomely for fresh tits and ass like yourselves. Once I've had my fill, I'll be taking your worth straight to the bank!"

"Try and see what happens, bastard!" Ryuji shouted.

"Worthless wretch!" Yusuke added.

Small, barely visible blue flames began to rise from Akira's shoulders. "I'LL BREAK ALL OF YOU BEFORE YOU TOUCH THEM!"

Kaneshiro smiled a devilish, malicious grin his way. "I'd like to see you try."

A man then called from behind the door, "Wait, who the hell are you guys-?" He was interrupted by a great crashing noise. More sounds of a fight rang out for a moment before there was not but the sounds of pained groans, and two pairs of footsteps walking to the door. The armed thugs took position at either side of the door, ready for the potential intruders.

That was until the door flung open right in their faces, knocking one of them unconscious. And bursting through the doorway was Yagami and Kaito, roaring proudly as Kaito slammed the other guard's head into the wall. Before the final thug could react, Yagami effortlessly bounded over the seated younger men and struck the guard with a flying crane kick into the wall behind him. As he was stunned, he flung himself to the wall, striking the guard in the head with his knee, and he collapsed to the ground, dropping his gun.

"Awesome," Ryuji muttered

Yagami turned to face Kaneshiro, who was now pointing his gun at him. "Your boys gave us a hell of a chase, man. And it's really pissed us off."

Kaito walked up beside Yagami adding, "You took Patriarch Kitagawa's grandson, asshole. Everyone in the Clan is willing to kill or be killed for his safety. Trust me, you just signed your death warrant in your own blood!"

"Funny, I was gonna say the same to—"

Yagami threw out a spin-kick that knocked the sidearm out of Kaneshiro's hand. "Hands off the girls, asshole. You're coming with us."

"You have no idea the shit you're in, bub," Kaito added confidently.

Kaneshiro smirked once again. "As I was saying, it's funny. I was gonna say the same to you."

A group of yakuza came barreling down the hall, blocking their one exit. The two fighters looked between the young people and the large group of assailants, examining their options. "Guess it's gonna be the hard way," Yagami remarked, adopting the kung fu stance of the crane. "You guys alright?" he asked the young captives.

"Physically," Ann replied. "Well, most of us."

"Not for long," said Kaneshiro. He threw Ann to the ground, pulling out a knife and holding it to her throat. "I'm taking all of you down today! Your blood will be the first spilled in our glorious war!"

"Ann!" Ryuji called out.

Makoto tried to get away from Kaneshiro, but he held her so tight that she was unable to move. The flames around Akira grew brighter, catching the attention of Yagami and Kaito. "What the hell?" Yagami asked.

"God, that's fucking cool," Kaneshiro remarked. "I didn't believe the stories when I heard them, but there it is! Right in front of my eyes!"

That was when Akira grunted, and roared low in his throat as he struggled against the rope binding his hands. He pressed his face into the ground, and suddenly, before anyone could react, he was on his feet, hands free, charging straight into Kaneshiro with a mad scream. His knee then connected right in the fat yakuza's mouth, knocking him away from Ann and forcing him to drop his knife.

"Holy shit!" Kaito exclaimed.

"How did you do that!?" Ryuji shouted, amazed as all the enemy yakuza backed off in sudden fear.

"How are you still standing!?" Yusuke added.

"I don't know, but I'm not gonna question it." Eyes still orange and flames returning to their true bright blue, he stood with Yagami and Kaito between his friends and the yakuza. "Get them untied!" he commanded Ann and Makoto. "We're getting the hell out of here!"

The once again battle-ready yakuza then parted, and Hamura, face bandaged up, stood at the front of the group, eyeing Akira directly. "It's a long way to the exit, kid," he said with a smirk. "You got a hundred men to fight between you and the slightest hope of freedom."

"I like those odds," Akira smirked back, appearing something entirely other thanks to his orange eyes and blue flames. "You guys ready?" he addressed his new companions.

"Ready to kick every ass in this dump!" Kaito shouted.

"Hope you guys are ready too," Yagami said to the yakuza.

"Oh, Hamura," Akira added, "and about that 'fight'. Know this: I'm not going to fight you." His smirk grew wider to a powerful, toothy grin, and his eyes seemed to shine like the flames on his body. "I'm gonna kick your ass. Now," he adopted his Dragon Stance, ready to take on anyone and everyone that meant harm to his friends, "LET'S ROCK!"

To Be Continued…

[Reviews are always appreciated.]