Chapter Fifty-Seven: Honor for the Dishonorable
A single, constant tone, ringing pierced Kagome's ears, drowning out the scream she felt vibrating in her throat.
In hues of green on ivory, the elegant print of maple leaves filled her vision, wrapping her with silken comfort. With it cool against her cheek, memories of Goshinboku flooded over her. She remembered its refreshing shade sheltering her from the blistering sun. Its thick, sturdy trunk and gnarled roots, a bulwark in every storm. She could feel it, then and now. The constant in her life across the centuries. Always there for her. Supporting her. Loving her.
A spray of red dappled the winding branches, turning summer into fall.
And then the tree fell.
With a maternal fierceness, her mother hugged her tight, shielding her with her body as bullets perforated the air. Searing and bright, pain erupted from Kagome's right arm, stripping away her reverie, as a black and red jacket filled her vision, eclipsing maple leaves.
"Tora!" she felt her mouth yell.
Grimacing, he collided into them, his arms wide, enveloping them both. They buckled against the force of his embrace, their feet giving out from underneath them, and time crawled as the floor slowly reached up to catch them.
With a grunt, Kagome struck the hardwood, the wind in her lungs bursting from her. Mama and Tora collapsed on top of her, and in her agony, she struggled to breathe from under their weight.
The ringing in her ears subsided and she could hear the world again. The distant city rushing through a broken window. Stuttering sobs from across the room. And an anguished wheeze that sounded oddly familiar.
"Mama?" she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Mama?"
The wheezing continued.
"Mama?"
Her mother groaned.
"Mama?!"
"I'm here," she whispered. "It's okay. I'm here."
With tears streaming down her face, Kagome flushed with relief, and she squeezed her mother close. The tree hadn't fallen yet.
The wheezing started to sputter, tired and wet, and blood spread across the floor.
Mama stiffened. "Tora?"
Silence replied.
"Tora?!"
"Sorry," he slurred, and his body shuddered as he began to cough.
Struck with terror, they both scrambled out from beneath his body. Bloodied by a pair of bullet wounds, his arms hung limp at his sides, and his back was riddled with crushed metal, each glinting from tattered holes in his vest. The Kevlar had held, and at least for now, he was still alive.
The baton in his hand clattered onto the floor and the pool of blood grew.
"We need to stop the bleeding," Kagome said firmly, the fear she had felt gone. She didn't have that luxury any longer.
Mama nodded, and she reached behind her, grabbing the end of her obi sash. With a yank, she unfurled it. Her kimono came undone, revealing her underclothes, but she paid it no mind as she ripped the sash in half with her teeth. Quickly, she started to bind his arms, applying pressure to the wounds and stemming his blood loss.
"Noble," a man taunted from the doorway. "A family of heroes."
Kagome's eyes flew to him and her jaw clenched with rage.
Exuding smug satisfaction, he strolled into the room, sporting a white, Armani suit and a red, floral print shirt. His aviators gleamed, casting his eyes in gold.
"Kurosawa, you bastard," Ishida snarled, and his hand felt under the pillow behind his back.
In a swift, fluid motion, Kurosawa ejected the magazine in his pistol and slammed a fresh one into it with a clack.
"Uh-uh, I wouldn't do that, Ishida-san," he warned, leveling the pistol at him. "Don't you want to wallow in shame for a few minutes longer? Live long enough to watch your dynasty fall and witness the new dawn for this city? Perhaps for all of Japan?"
Another snarl bubbled from Ishida, but he made no further move.
An arrogant smirk spread across Kurosawa's face. "That's what I thought." Without wavering his aim, he spied down at the heroes, and disdain curled his lip. "I must say, you would have had a little more time to quake in fear had it not been for your noisy rat problem. The top floor of this forsaken tower is a damn maze, no matter how many times I've come here. And yet, in a maze, who better to follow to the prize than a couple hapless rodents?"
Kagome's glare hardened.
"You're a fool, Raiden," Ishida chided. "Ever since you were in your father's shadow. You've never learned. Never changed. And you know what? You never escaped it. You live in that darkness."
A distant boom rumbled through the tower.
"Live in that darkness?" Kurosawa sneered. "I thrive there. Where is the pride in governing a clan weakened by equity? I seized what I deserved and claimed my place as the only oyabun, my brothers be damned. Kuro-Sakura was mine. The streets ran red, I couldn't have cared less."
Ishida scoffed.
"You condemn me?" Kurosawa said, and he spat on the floor. "The hypocrisy you spew disgusts me. A bloodless conquest is still a conquest. You and that freakish whore you worship stole everything from me."
"We gave you more power than you could have ever hoped for. You were a prince ruling a muddy pond when we offered you a lordship in the sea."
"No, you drained my pond into your sea. You consumed my clan, and you're shocked by my thirst for vengeance? Who's blinded by pride now?" Coolly, he stepped over Tora, slithering his way towards Ishida's bed. "But I should thank you and your monster. After today, my ego mustn't be satisfied with a pond when the sea awaits, because you have indeed given me more power than I could have ever hoped for."
Rage bubbling inside, Kagome stared at his back, given to her by hubris as he approached the bed. She glanced down, spotting her compound bow lying on the floor beside her and her quiver at her hip. The fight wasn't over yet.
Soundlessly, she scooped up her bow and climbed to her feet. But as she took an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, searing pain shot through her arm, nearly staggering her. One of the bullets had grazed her and she hadn't even realized it. Gritting her teeth until they ached, she pulled back the bowstring.
"I'm a bit tired of egos and metaphors," she growled through the pain, her aim centered on his back. "So, I'll make this simple. Drop your gun and lie face down on the floor. Or something will run red that you do care about."
He paused and peered back at her, a sly smile carving his expression.
"My dear," a man rasped from the doorway. "Put your bow down before you get hurt."
From the corner of her eye, she spied him entering the room. His bald head gleamed, dappled with sweat, and his gray skin clung to his gaunt features. He regarded her with sunken eyes, and in his hand, he gripped a pistol, its aim on her.
She didn't waver.
"Hyousuke," Kurosawa said as the man approached his side. "Put a bullet in her."
Mama gasped. "No."
"Do it, and this arrow goes right through your boss," Kagome threatened. "Right through his heart."
Kurosawa snorted. "Doubtful, little girl."
"My family is in this room," she snapped, her arrow tip remaining steady and centered. "If you understood what that meant, you'd know what I'd be willing to do. I've faced monsters crueler than you. I destroyed them, too."
Another boom shook the building, and the floor lurched.
Her knees bending, she rode the wave, her aim fixed like a falcon's gaze in flight. She sensed her mother leaning forward, protecting Tora. And she watched her enemies struggle to keep their footing in expensive, leather-soled shoes. If only there had been just one gun. If only she hadn't already been shot. Any other time and she'd be faster than them both. She wasn't ready to die yet. She still had a job to do. Her family needed her, in both the past and present, because it was her destiny to be the thread that binds.
Another pistol sprung forward.
"Go ahead, girl," Ishida said coolly, the gun from under his pillow in his hand and he leveled it at Hyousuke. "Kill the bastard."
Kurosawa chuckled, his twisted amusement brightening as Yukina stepped in front of the bed, putting herself between the two men.
"Yukina!" Ishida shouted. "Get out of the way!"
"It's okay, Ishida-sama," she whispered, her eyes burning fiercely. "Oya-sama needs you, so I'll be your shield. I'm small, so you can aim around me, and I'll protect you, so you'll be able to protect her."
"Silly girl," he growled. "She needs us both."
"Would we be her clan of three?" she asked. "Visiting the gardens together when the cherry blossoms fall in the spring and the leaves turn in the autumn?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
"Then she won't forgive us if we both die. If we leave her and she's alone in the world again. I know what it feels like to have no one. How it hurts."
He swallowed.
"Swear that you'll win," she pled. "That you'll live for her."
He paused, then nodded. "I swear."
"Foolish sacrifices," Kurosawa laughed belligerently, his fangs flashing. "Are you finished with your noble vows? The reality is that you'll both die here. But if it soothes your fragile hearts, know that the monster won't be long behind you. As soon as she's done killing the demon, I'll put a bullet in her, too. When I'm done, you all can wander the gardens of hell together."
"Oya-jii," Hyousuke croaked, eyeing the web of weapons entangling them. "Perhaps with some patience, we can seize your birthright another way—"
"No," Kurosawa snapped. "I will have what's mine now and with interest."
Fire radiated through Kagome's arm and shoulder, setting her trembling. She could barely feel the taught bowstring through the violent ache. Blood dripped from her elbow, spattering on the floor, and the tip of her arrow began to waver.
Feebly, Tora felt at the floor until his fingers discovered his lost baton and he took it.
The windows rattled, and a thundering boom rose from deep within the tower.
"If you live only for yourself," Ishida said with cold finality, glaring at Kurosawa. "Then in the end, that's all you'll have."
"I don't need anyone else but myself," he replied. "No one else matters."
The floor began to quake.
Ishida snorted. "Then you'll get exactly what you deserve."
The shockwave struck and the room heaved.
Muffled by the rumbling, blue sparks snapped and sizzled from the end of the baton, and with a grunt, Tora jammed it into Kurosawa's leg. Electricity coursed through him, seizing his body with rigid convulsions.
Gunshots popped as his finger clenched the trigger, his jerking muscles wrenching his aim upwards, and puffs of plaster exploded from the ceiling.
"Oya-jii!" Hyousuke shouted, his gun falling free from his hand. He burst forward, launching himself at Kurosawa.
With tears streaking her cheeks, Kagome reached her limit, and her arrow flew, the strength in her fingers gone.
Throwing his shoulder forward, Hyousuke collided with Kurosawa, shoving him aside as his own back erupted with splashes of red chased by loud pops from Ishida's gun.
The arrow struck deep, boring through Kurosawa's shoulder, and ripped a scream from him through gritted teeth. His feet slipped out from beneath him and he collapsed onto the floor, spasming in agony.
"Hyousuke!" he yelled, spit flying from his mouth. "Hyousuke, shoot them!"
Kagome sunk to her knees, grasping at her bloody arm.
"Hyousuke! Kill them now!"
Mama pulled Tora close, and he let the baton fall to stroke her cheek.
"Hyousuke! You need to kill them. It's your duty. Where are you?"
"He did his duty," Ishida said staidly as he lowered the railing on his hospital bed. Yukina flew to his side, extending her arm for him to take.
"What are you talking about?" Kurosawa snapped.
"Look at your feet, you fool."
With his cheek pressed against the floor, he inched his face downward until he spied the gray pate of his follower and the tide of blood that surrounded his lifeless body.
"Hyousuke?" he whispered.
"An honorable man," Ishida remarked, leaning heavily against Yukina's slight frame as she guided him to the head of the bed and the exquisite katana that hung on the wall above it. "His devotion was infallible to the end even if it was in service to a lord as corrupt and selfish as you. He deserved a better father. A better family."
"Hyousuke?" he whispered again.
Wincing, Ishida reached up and plucked the sword from its mount before turning on his heel to face Kurosawa. "Every time I've had the discourtesy of seeing you, you remind me of what you believe is your birthright. What you deserve by the merit of your bloodline. What's yours, both in property and in people. What's yours by blood even if it's not by heart."
"Wait…" Kurosawa whimpered, and he held up his arm weakly. "Let's talk—"
He unsheathed the sword, its blade glinting bright. "I think it's time you're given what you deserve by the merit of your actions. "Usually, it's a pinky from the left hand, but since you're always demanding more than your share…"
Kurosawa gasped in terror.
The sword scythed downward, severing his left arm above the elbow. Shrieks pierced the air as he feebly grabbed at what remained, desperate to stem the bloodloss.
Ishida let the tainted sword clatter onto the floor. "Now you've received what you deserve."