didn't turn out exactly how I wanted. More Iori next chapter prolly. I couldn't fit it all in one.
IGuess this chapter focuses more on the 4th Elder - who I completely love BTW.
But I actually need yag to play a part in the upcoming final battle. So you're going to have to deal with a little bit more of him.
Bby is back!
It was a blustery morning in PortTown and the sun was shrouded in clouds. The crashing ocean spray constantly misted the air in salt and droplets. Above, gulls called to one another. Below, the great pier creaked and groaned. Before them, a tremendous rusty crane clacked loudly as it slowly winched something tremendous from the depths of the ocean.
Geese Howard… how dare you...
What an insult this was. How humiliating - that the Yakuza Heir would be treated with such disdain. Was he a creature, that one could simply put in a tank and forget about? Was his family so incompetant that they'd let him rot in this cell for so long? Ridiculous.
Shameful!
The crane's taut cords thrummed in the seaside wind as it's metal fibres were put under great strain. Its gears ground against each other like a set of tremendous metal teeth, and every time they slipped against each other, the machine shuddered. The line trembled … and so did the Fourth Elder.
Because his boy was in there.
The Yagami Clan's precious heir.
The young man whom the Fourth himself had raised like a tender green shoot. Nobody had expected anything from Iori Yagami. His predecessor was a pathetic failure. His predecessor was even worse. The glory of the clan was all but forgotten... yet this boy - by the strength of his wild obsession - lifted the Yagami clan from the ashes of dereliction, and hurtled it into the dizzying heights of wealth and power. In the same way the previous head was responsible for the clan's failure, the current head was responsible for the clan's great success.
So… what kind of family were they, that they would allow this heir to suffer such violent injustice? To be locked in a concrete box, and goaded on and on until he tore himself to bits for the amusement of his captors? And his family! They could do nothing but bow their heads and pay whatever was asked of them. How shameful. How reprehensible. Outrageous.
The Fourth gripped his cane and trembled in rage.
His old heart ached in his chest.
My poor boy...
The pier was oppressively silent as the Yagami clan watched that great concrete prison break the surface of the murky sea. As the crudely made cuboid cell was lifted through the air and slowly brought to rest on the pier, neither the Yakuza nor Howard's group said a word. Everyone felt the gravity of the situation, and they were well aware the Fourth Elder's rage was running unfettered. He was happy to personally burn anyone to white dust if they so much as made a single mistake.
("Okay, let's saw the thing open… have you got the blowtorch?")
("...yeah. Fuck man - they're just staring at us.")
("Hurry up and get your ass over here. You make them wait, and they'll set you on fire.")
The group of American HCon employees muttered to each other briefly before quickly getting to work breaking open the grimy cube. The Fourth didn't know how long it had been submerged, but algae and small barnacles had already attached themselves to much of the concrete's surface. Simply looking at its construction spoke volumes of the conditions it's prisoner was living in. There was no air. No food. No water. Was he even alive?
Surely he's alive… Geese wouldn't dare try to trade in a corpse.
With a great crack, one side of the cube was torn away from the concrete cell. A tremendous amount of seawater flushed out from within and spilled across the pier - nearly reaching the Fourth Elder's entourage. The water was dark and smelled rank and coppery. As it escaped between the planks of wood and returned to the ocean, bits of flesh and dried blood were caught on the pier and remained there, decorating the dark wood with the results of the torture. The Fourth Elder counted two fingernails, then averted his eyes before he could count more.
You will pay for this, Geese Howard… ah, my poor boy!
There he was, a flash of pallid skin beneath a stroke of bright red hair. One of Geese's men was carrying his soaking, limp form from the confines of the concrete prison. Iori's head hung loosely, as if his neck had been unscrewed. His hands were mangled and bloodied. Some fingers had fresher wounds which dripped. Others had scabbed up. The last joint of his left thumb was gone. The only sign of life was the sound of gasping, and the rapid chattering of teeth.
(Uh… where should I put him… Sir?)
The Howard employee stood before him, carrying the half-frozen heir in his arms. The man's expression was anxious. The Fourth Elder didn't blame him. His position was unenviable, but luckily Iori was showing signs of life. The red-haired man began to cough and convulse, then blindly struck out and slashed the HCon employee in the arm - an action that earned him a four foot fall to the ground, and likely a small concussion.
"Oh Shit! Heir! ..Hey, you bastard! What the fuck did you do that for?! What if you killed him?!"
"Oh dammit… he's really cold. Is there a blanket anywhere? Give me your coat."
"Heir, Sir… are you alright? Are you thirsty?"
Iori didn't acknowledge anyone. His eyes were wide open, yet he saw nothing. The sound of his breathing was raw and painful, indicating severe dehydration. The rings beneath his eyes said he was exhausted, yet he battled off sleep. Had he slept during any of these past days? Likely not - otherwise he would have died long ago from hypothermia. Even now, Iori had curled into himself, continuing to chatter his teeth and shiver violently on the dock. Somebody had thrown a coat over him, but none dared approach for fear of retaliation. Even in such a state, the Yagami heir's violent reputation preceded him.
Yet, where the clansmen responded in fear, the Fourth Elder felt no such aversion. After all, this was his boy. The old man kneeled down beside his shivering nephew and patted his cheek until his eyes focused. It took a moment for Iori to realize he wasn't hallucinating, but eventually, he croaked out an incredulous, "O-old m-man?"
The Fourth Elder chuckled. The cloud over his head broke, and his trembling rage swept away like a breeze. He beamed down and pet Iori's hair until he - true to form - made a sorry attempt to swat his uncle away. The heir had always pretended to dislike public displays of affection, but the Fourth Elder knew they were much appreciated.
"Hello there, Young heir… I see you've been causing trouble for uncle again, haven't you?"
"Oh...y-yeah."
"Are you cold? Do you want to warm up?"
"P-please."
The old man looked about until his gaze landed on several canisters of ship fuel stacked up behind the port crane. He motioned for someone to fetch them.
"Good. Then hold your breath."
That guy who yag scratched though?
Lmao zombie time.