To Lyger 0: Well, it isn't called "Tokyo Fluff"… But there was a reason for the first 7 chapters. Generally I try to avoid including a ton of excess padding.
To Butterfly: Things are definitely happening…
Quickly pulling on his jeans and slipping his feet into his shoes, Luka didn't question what they were doing. If Kagami was concerned about what her cousin was doing, he would follow her lead – he would follow her anywhere. Ryoku paced the room anxiously while he got ready, looking out the window frequently, tapping her fingers on her arm, her song in turmoil. Finally, Luka threw a jacket on over his sweatshirt, and they quietly made their way down the hallway to the stairs, tiptoeing cautiously to avoid making any noise that might disturb the rest of the house. From the stairwell it was only a quick walk down the main hall to the front door. Luka started on passing the spot where the family katana was supposed to be displayed. If he'd had any doubts about their situation, the missing katana put them to rest. Without sparing the display rack a second glance, Ryoku sprinted past him to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of dried nori before leading Luka out to the garage.
Shivering in the chill outside air, Luka noticed a small motorcycle in one corner of the garage. "Think this can catch them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"The keys aren't in the ignition," Ryoku objected, frowning.
"That isss not a problem," Sass assured her, popping out of Luka's jacket pocket and phasing through the motorcycle's body.
The engine promptly roared to life, and Luka climbed on, nodding his head for her to get on behind him. Ryoku wrapped her arms tightly around his waist as they sped out into the night, the wind whipping through their hair and blowing it back behind them. Their bike's weak headlight the only illumination on the deserted streets, they raced toward the city lights twinkling in the distance. "Are you sure we're going the right way?" Luka called over the engine noise, not taking his eyes off the road in front of them as they merged onto the highway.
By way of response, Ryoku shouted, "Lightning Dragon!" and vanished in a clap of thunder. Lightning streaked through the sky above, darting from cloudbank to cloudbank in the direction of the city. Suddenly it flitted away, further up the highway, beyond Luka's line of sight, and nearly struck the ground before it returned to the clouds.
Luka's grip on the handlebars tightened as he nearly laid the bike out following the sudden change in balance. "She could've at least warned me," he grumbled, popping his ears to try to regain his hearing.
"She isss worried for her cousssin," Sass reminded him, crawling partway out of his jacket and patting his cheek consolingly.
He nodded curtly. "I know."
Sass hummed contemplatively. "And you are worried for her."
Luka sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.
"You mussst trussst your Dragon."
"I do," he insisted, clenching his jaw. "It's just…"
"I underssstand."
Thunder cracked as the lightning coalesced into Ryoku directly above him. Prepared this time, Luka held the bike steady while she dropped the meter to land on the bike's seat behind him, wrapping her arms around him tightly to avoid falling off the back. "They're a couple kilometers ahead, almost to the outskirts of Tokyo," she shouted into his ear. "Dark-colored sedan. It looks like they're on their way to the docks."
Luka nodded and revved the engine, pushing the machine to the limit as the front tire pulled off the ground into a wheelie. The outskirts of the city flew past them at breakneck speed. "You should probably de-transform and let Longg recharge," he suggested.
Ryoku squeezed his chest involuntarily. "I… it's freezing out here!" she yelped. "I'm not exactly dressed for outside."
"O–oh." Luka felt his cheeks heat up. "We can't have that, then. Take over." Ryoku's arms snaked past him to grab the handlebars, and he leaned forward, bent almost completely over the motorcycle's body. Carefully he squirmed his arms out of his jacket before taking back the handlebars, leaving his jacket pinned between them. Ryoku's arms around his waist disappeared momentarily, as did the jacket, before a bright red light blinded his peripheral vision and she grabbed onto him even tighter, clasping her ungloved hands inside his sweatshirt's pouch. Both Kwamis dove into the pouch, Sass bringing the bag of nori with him. Presently Luka saw a dark town car ahead of them – the first other vehicle they had seen – change lanes to exit the highway. He pumped the brakes, slowing down significantly to maintain distance from it.
"That's them," Kagami called, her mouth right next to his ear.
Staying at least thirty meters behind the car as they left the highway and dropped into the city proper, Luka tailed the car along deserted streets, their remaining Christmas lights still casting their white glow on everything. The further they went away from the highway, however, the fewer trees they saw covered in lights and the more dilapidated buildings they passed. The unmistakable smells of fish and saltwater permeated this area. Finally, the car slowed and pulled to a stop in front of a warehouse. Luka veered down the closest alleyway and killed the motorcycle's engine behind a dumpster. He climbed off the motorcycle but turned to find Kagami staring at the broken glass littering the pavement, Sass and Longg sitting on her shoulders. She pulled her bare feet up onto the motorcycle's steering column, balancing carefully to avoid falling off. He slapped his forehead. "Sorry, babe," he apologized, grimacing.
She hummed in frustration. "I should've thought about shoes, myself," she admitted hugging herself to hold Luka's jacket close, shivering in the cool air.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, guiding her to rest her head on his chest. "We should probably transform here, anyways," he told her, giving Sass a worried look. Sass bobbed his head reassuringly. "Sass, Scales slither."
The light of his transformation hadn't died away yet when Kagami transformed also. Giving him a nod, her mouth set in a firm line, Ryoku sprang off the motorcycle and all the way up to the roof of the warehouse next to them, between them and the warehouse where Shiro's car had stopped. Viperion quickly followed, swinging up to land silently next to Ryoku, who was already running across the warehouse roof. With barely a pause she dove headfirst off the roof, straight at the wall of the next warehouse. Hot on her heels, Viperion didn't have time to think before jumping after her. She flew through an open second-story window, landed on a catwalk running around the perimeter of the warehouse, and rolled silently to her feet. Viperion landed on his feet next to her, dropping into a crouch to cushion his landing and bracing himself against the railing right in front of him. The catwalk was deserted, above the floodlights which illuminated the open space below. Viperion slid to the side and found a spot where he could look through the bars. A dozen people milled around the single large empty room. One in a brilliant white suit, clearly the leader, sat on the far side of the building in the only chair, flanked by four men. In front of the man in the suit, his hands clasped behind his back, head held high, stood Shiro.
Ryoku dropped to her stomach next to Viperion, eyes narrowed warily, as they took in the scene below. "What did you do, Itoko?" she muttered.
Shiro's voice drifted up from above. "I don't care about that; I tell you, I want out!"
The man in the suit scoffed. "There is no 'out'," he answered, eyes narrowed dangerously. "The Ninkyō Dantai is a lifelong commitment."
Ryoku cocked her head a fraction, leaning forward.
Shiro's shoulders tensed. "Not for me. This is too much."
The suit shook his head and looked at the man to his right. "This is the price we pay for trusting an elitist." Turning back to Shiro he told him. "You should die for this betrayal, Kamiken. However." He paused and leaned forward. "I will allow you to keep your head. But you will lose something else, instead, to prove your loyalty."
Shiro stood with his back ramrod straight, looking the suit dead in the eye. "No."
"This is your final chance."
"I don't care." Shiro stiffened, his hands clenching and unclenching behind his back. "I am out – one way or the other."
The suit lifted one hand. "If that is your choice, then very well. Kamisenshi, you know what to do."
The man to the suit's right stepped forward and drew a katana from his belt, holding it in front of himself in a fighting stance. Shiro dropped one foot back, one hand hovering just above the katana hilt that Viperion could finally see protruding from his coat. The two men stared at each other for several minutes, neither one willing to make the first move. Viperion hardly dared to breathe as the standoff continued. Next to him, Ryoku had gone deathly still, a calculating look in her eyes as she watched.
Finally, Kamisenshi lunged forward, a blur of motion, slashing at Shiro's shoulder. Shiro's katana darted out lightning fast, a quick strike that knocked Kamisenshi's sword aside and swiped at his chest in the same motion. Kamisenshi went airborne to evade the slash, at the same time swinging his own sword at Shiro's head. Shiro ducked and backed away, placing more space between himself and his assailant. Kamisenshi pursued him, katana darting and flashing in the light, attacking over and over from all angles. Shiro held his katana up with both hands, blocking Kamisenshi's strikes with the flat of the blade, giving ground with each block. With a yell he spun around Kamisenshi's slash, swinging his katana at his opponent's exposed arm.
Kamisenshi, however, dropped low. Shiro's blade passed harmlessly over his head, and he sprang up and slashed Shiro across the back. A line of red blood traced across Shiro's jacket. He dropped to one knee, katana tip propped on the cement floor to hold himself upright, hissing in pain.
"I suppose we can tell who the true family swordfighter is," Viperion muttered, raising an eyebrow at Ryoku.
Ryoku fixed him with a deadpan look. "Be ready to move," she informed him, swinging over the catwalk and dropping the fifteen meters to the ground in a single fluid motion. Every eye in the building turned to follow her sudden appearance. Just before she landed, she drew her sword, cut a slashing motion across the room, and screamed, "Wind Dragon!" The wind around the building whistled and built into a massive gust, following the path of Ryoku's sword and barreling several men to the ground. One, a mountain of a man with an enormous hammer resting on his shoulder, dropped to one knee, his hammer's head striking the floor with a thud. The floor rumbled around him as his fist clenched around the handle. Without hesitating, Ryoku grabbed Shiro by the back of his collar, threw him over her shoulder, and raced for the door.
Viperion was about to follow her when a sudden movement from the middle of the room caught his attention. Kamisenshi tossed his katana into the air, and a sudden gust of wind caught it and sent it hurtling at Ryoku's back. Drawing his lyre from its place on his back, Viperion whipped it straight down to smash into the katana, sending it clattering to the ground. The blade embedded in the concrete floor and quivered as the lyre ricocheted off the ground and back up. Viperion sprang off the catwalk and caught his lyre in midair before dropping to the floor and racing out the door behind Ryoku. He arrived outside just as she was pushing Shiro into the backseat of the car still idling in front of the the warehouse. Viperion swung through the open front passenger window and drove both his feet into the driver's head. Pushing the man out the door and into the street, he threw the car into gear and peeled away from the curb, burning rubber in his haste to escape. A glance into the rearview mirror showed the gangsters pouring out of the warehouse and looking around in confusion.
"What the hell was all of that?" Viperion demanded, risking a glance away from the road to see Shiro leaning across Ryoku's lap, his katana held in a limp grip.
Ryoku pressed a cloth to Shiro's back and met Viperion's gaze, her eyes aflame with rage. "Isn't it obvious? He's Yakuza!"