This chapter is mostly Tsukune X Mizore

HIRED GUNS

CHAPTER 5

We were one of the lucky ones. Supplies had just shipped in fresh from HQ. The guys in the platoon were giddy, muscular men who looked like five-year-olds opening presents in the first waking hours of Christmas. M4's, M240Bs, Barret M82's...my god it really felt like Christmas in July. The excitement jumped off from one grunt to the other. Even the most stone-faced, disagreeable types found their buttholes clenched in excitement as they walked towards the crates to help unload the goodies.

The folks back at the mainland were hesitant at handing over their hard-earned cash to fight for something that was moot at best. Why would you fight for a race that doesn't even know of your existence? So, in turn, the war was seriously underfunded. It makes me wonder why we were even fighting in the first place. The worst gear we got were Vietnam-era M16's and four Hueys that were slapped together with duck tape just so they could arm everyone lower than B-Class.

But having a weapon in your hand was better than having none at all. Take, for example, the situation that the pricks up at SABs are facing. The Major had issued a general order that some of the highly talented individuals from S to B class were to use their natural abilities as much as possible to cut back on costs. The only form of solace they took from it was that they were to be given a sidearm just in case. The first guys to bail were, unsurprisingly, the vampires of nobility. They'd rather be somewhere far away from the battlefield where 7.62s won't reach them. They tried to escape and the next thing they know –BAM- military tribunal!

Fucking pogues.

Raijus and Youkos (those who had five tails and above) were also affected since they were in Sierra Company. They had the highest reports of friendly fire due to their wide AOE attacks, so their roles were reduced into providing support for the assault troops- which was good because Raijus were practically useless out in an open field. I once saw a Raiju get torn to shreds by a gunner manning a KPV. It was an open field, no telephone lines, wires or any shit that could conduct electricity- nowhere to zap out of.

I realized that S-ranks don't mean shit when it came to .57 cal rounds. In a twisted way, relief was the first thing I felt knowing that they died just like everyone else. Especially since the guys under Charlie practically worshipped them. You see a group of Alphas walking down the center of the chow hall, thinking like they're hot shit; look around, you'd swear that Charlie's have hard-ons for them.

But the general order wasn't entirely without merit. The extreme blood knights of Sierra relished the carnage. Vampires and Werewolves came to mind. These are the type of guys that didn't need a weapon to fight. In fact, it would've been a disservice to give them one instead of letting them use their bare hands.

It wasn't hard to guess that the S-Ranks fought solely for the sake of fighting and getting paid at the same time. I never heard anyone of them even mention anything noble like "We need to protect the human race so that we could be all friends". Sugary bullshit like the things Moka used to lovingly jam into my head. It was just an itch to be scratched for them. Maybe it was the same for me.

My call sign was "Ghoul". Right after Boot, I was originally recommended and placed in an S-class unit in Sierra Company called "Reaper-1", but after a bit of negligence on my part, I was court martial'd for false representation. It turns out I was the only enlisted Ghoul/Human in the YDF. The Monster Resources Command made a mistake in the sworn statement saying that I was a vampire.

Instead of a punishment, they dropped me down to Charlie Company. I was in a C-Class detachment unit '2F'. Where they got that name…I wasn't sure and I didn't ask the second time after one of the guys called Sigma threatened to fuck up my face with a Recon Tanto. But I heard that during their early years as part of the main battalion, one of them accidentally popped some smoke on a group of friendlies when they requested air support. I didn't know if the friendlies survived.

We were tasked to retrieve a dossier that contained a list of weapons to be shipped, where it would be shipped, and when. The intel was good, it came from one Hokuto Kaneshiro. But it turned out that the Elven town had already been captured and turned into a base camp by enemy forces.

It was a quaint little place with about a population of fifteen-hundred Elves. Mountains surrounded the town like walls so it was pretty isolated from the rest of the world. There were only five or six commercial buildings, not one of them exceed two floors; four diners, two pharmacies, three clinics, a church, and a town hall. There were a total of seven exits, three of them trade routes that cut through the mountains narrowly. It was the type of town you'd want to retire in and grow old and sneak off into the woods to die alone.

We were prone for about an hour on this cliff overlooking the town and already my front was starting to go numb. 'Coon', this Tengu that had hairy, black caterpillars for eyebrows, looked through the high precision scope of his L115A1, burdened without having to have done recon first at the insistence of the base chief. I was right next to him at the time. It was a good thing that he wasn't going down with us. If he did, Tangos would've already spotted us. Think wet dog smell, but I won't tell him that.

He and 'X-Man' were our designated snipers. The latter was located on a different vantage point in the southern part of the town. Even though he was tiny compared to other specimens in his race, his single, big eye was always put to good use. Better depth perception than most of the snipers I know and he literally had one master eye.

I looked through my binoculars and adjusted the focus on the troops patrolling outside of the town hall. They called themselves "The Union of Ayashi Progression". But they were just Nazis by any other name. We call them anything degrading- anything that would lessen their status as living beings. It was better not to know the enemy, contrary to the popular saying. I dropped this mook once during the 'Siege of Mt. Chilumma'. A photo spilled from his helmet- he was a father of two. I hesitated and almost got a bayonet jammed in my gut.

'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer' certainly isn't applicable here. I'd want the enemy far away from me as possible, possibly within the range that I could put a bullet right between the eyes.

I look up to the black void we have for a sky and saw a small red light that blinked during five-second intervals. It was only noticeable if you squint hard enough.

"Jarhead, give me a SITREP," I asked our resident tech/medic as he flew his little recon drone.

"They are a substantial force. We got three of them posted at every guard post along the exits. Four watchtowers with searchlights, three Type 90 Tanks, seven trucks with mounted KPV's and fifty or so Tangos armed with standard gear and RPGs: Geckos (Lizardmen), Mookies (Centipedes) and Hybrids. No S-Class monsters spotted. There may be more inside the buildings. You better get the dossier fast before they bring in more troops. "

"Most of them are outside of the town hall and are patrolling the perimeter. The church next to it must be where they rounded up the civvies and POWs". Coon said without taking his eye off the scope of his rifle.

"Town hall is our command center." I grabbed my suppressed M4 and slung it over my shoulder "Coon?" I did one final mag and brass check before I got up on one knee.

"Pharmacy A's clean. No tangos spotted."

"Guys, we got a problem," Ichinose said through the radio with a strained voice as if he'd been screaming for an hour straight. Could he have been compromised? I thought. The fucking op hasn't even started. Multiple worst-case scenarios ran through my mind. It was better to be prepared for the worst.

"Report!" Staff Sergeant 'Mach' was quick to respond, but there was only static at the other end of the line. It was really the only time I heard his voice during the op.

"Where was his last position?" I try not to sound more panicked than I already am. I asked the two snipers and Jarhead to spot him. Usually, with situations like these, we'd be given a choice to ditch him or not. And usually the latter was always chosen and we'd get fucked in the end.

"Found him." Jarhead radioed in. "He's over by the east end of the town behind Building D. He...He's scratching his ass."

"Say again?"

"Sorry guys, but my bunghole is really fucking itchy"

I could imagine his face when he said it. A giant of a man with chubby cheeks and a scraggly ginger beard squirming on the ground, face twisted into a grimace while reaching for an itch in the most unimaginable of places. There were some grunts and moans on the line since he left it open. I don't know, but it sounded like he enjoyed it.

"What the fuck, Ichinose?" I said with barely restrained anger. It got us all worked up for nothing.

"When I scratch it, it feels swollen around the rims like a bug fucking bit it. Argh! Fuck!"

"Too much info there, Ichinose" Coon said "Or rather, Itchy" Ho-ho here we go. "You sure Deetz didn't give you an STD?"

We waited to see if it would rouse a reaction from Deetz. As usual, a cold "Fuck you" was his only reply. Hearty chuckles almost gave away our position. I blamed it on the nervousness. It was really a high stakes game, with hostages and massive enemy forces. We shouldn't be laughing, but it was better if we did even for a little.

"Alright, can the chatter!"

"Staff Sergeant, should we go for the hostages?" I ask.

"Negative. This is not a Rescue OP. Leave that to the boys at Sierra. Our mission is to retrieve that dossier and EXFIL ASAP. Ghoul and Sigma form up on me by Pharmacy A; Jarhead, Coon, X-Man you're our eyes; Itchy, Deetz, Spray, plant those charges and circle back to the red building east of town hall."

I turn off my radio, wrestling with a violence that clawed its way from the back of my mind. There was a sudden emptiness in the pit of my stomach and bitter taste in my mouth that left me sneering. "Fucking hell." was all that I could say. Coon glanced to the side like he knew exactly how I felt.

"Coon... can you confirm if the hostages are in the church?" I ask while weighing my options.

"Affirmative." He said. "You gonna extract them?"

I didn't answer since there was a chance he'd report me to the E6. I know it's the right thing to do and I know that if I don't go there, sleep would be a thing of the past for me. The jump from the cliff was quick, only two seconds passed before my boots landed on the ground. I diverge from the path that led to the rendezvous and made my way through the dark streets of the town. The electricity was out and there wasn't a soul in any of the houses that I passed by.

"Ghoul you got Tango's coming up on your six. They're in a UAZ. Get out of the road. " Coon said. And as soon as he did, my body acted automatically. I jumped out of the road and into the nearest house via the window. My body smashed the glass and I landed into a roll, with shards piercing my battle dress and leaving gashes on my skin.

"They stopped." Coon narrated "They're going inside. They must've have noticed the broken window."

Oh shit. It may have not been the smartest move. I hide behind the nearest cover, which was a sofa "How many?" I whispered, gripping my gun till my hands were white.

"Four Geckos armed with RPKs".

"Take them!"

"Negative, there's too many. It'll give them time to report back."

I go to the lavish dining room and crouch behind a pony wall. A suppressor would be too loud and it would give away my position too early, so I pull out my knife. The door gets kicked open and hairs that I didn't know I had on my body stood up. Taking a peek, I saw them split. Two went upstairs while the other went to the basement.

These fuckers could see well in the dark. But so could I.

The Gecko enters the room and as soon as it crosses the entrance, I lunge and skewer the fleshy underpart of its snout so hard that the knife's tip penetrated through its thick carapace on the other side. It stood paralyzed and there was a little struggle. I could feel blood soaking my gloves so I leave the knife lodged in its snout and grab his own knife to slit his throat quick and soundless.

Three more to go.

I wipe the blood clean off my knife. It was one hell of a warm-up, but I got them before they could even fire a single round. I took care of the last two upstairs and as I went down to the living room, something caught my eye, that with all the carnage, I never noticed was there.

The walls were decorated with pictures documenting the steady growth of the family that used to live here. The first was a wedding photo of the parents and right next to it was the first family photo. There were three kids, two of them were about five or six years old while the youngest was about a year old. It looked like they only decided to do this sort of yearly thing after they had the third kid.

The middle child was an Elf boy that had a buzz cut. His ear-to-ear grin pushed up his chubby cheeks so you'd never know if he had his eyes closed. As he got older, his smile faded into a grimace. It was the adolescent phase- the awkward years of rebelliousness that you'll remember years later while looking at the ceiling of your lonely flat.

Gradually, his smile returned as he reached his twenties. The previous photos had him almost avoiding body contact with the rest of his family, now he's wrapping his arms around their shoulders while sporting the same dumb grin he had when he was younger. The parents looked older each time, and I was reminded of how life could past you in the blink of an eye. Once youthful faces now had greying hairs and wrinkles. But their smiles never left. There was contentment brought about by living a long, fulfilling life and you could see it in them. They were happy and they were proud.

They had new members in the last photo: a wife and a baby. A lump formed in my throat and my chest tightened the longer I looked, so I had no choice but to wrench my eyes away. "Oh god..." A family used to live here. And they looked like they didn't even know that there was fucking a war.

"Ghoul, you better get a move on. They're dragging the hostages to the front of Town Hall."

I shouldered my weapon and bolted out of there. Transferring the civilians to an open area could only mean one thing. I went out of the house, the smiles of the family haunting my soul. A large .338 Lapua Magnum whizzed through the air just about an inch from my temple. It was followed by a loud thud. When I turned around, I saw a Gecko twitching on the ground, the last ounces of life seeping out of it in a red puddle.

"You're welcome," Coon said. The nearest water tower could be his vantage point. The man was fast in changing positions. The old concepts of prepositioned snipers were thrown out the window. The sniper's efficiency will be determined by how mobile they were.

"Cheeky bastard. Are you gonna back me up on this? You know what they'll do to you, right?"

"What, are you kidding me? Going to court is like going to the principal's office. And a corporal punishment of twenty-fucking-lashes is a pleasant evening for me."

Coon said that I should take the alleys since it was faster there. But he never mentioned anything about a load of Tangos roaming around. Before I reached the town hall, I must've dropped five or six of them- eight counting the ones I'm about to drop right now.

As I run through the dingy alley that smelled of stale, rotting food and dried urine, two blobs of white light flash from my internal youki sensor. The two were coming in from the corner fast, so stealth was out of the question. It was already too late for me to hit the brakes since my legs were running at full pelt. It was like two cars crossing an intersection at 150mph. An inevitable collision.

I have no choice but to take them out.

"Ghoul, you got Tangos coming up on your 12!" Coon said.

"I know!" Just as the two Geckos entered the alley, I go in fast and hard, running up the wall and using it as spring to kick one of the lizards in the face. Brain and teeth flew in the air as he got a mouthful of my steel-toed boots.

I land and quickly duck from an overhead tail sweep from the other lizard. I use the momentum to get down fast and hug the floor, drop my hip and sweep my leg to the back of its heel in one fluid motion. It slams on its back, letting out a pained yelp before I got on top of it and quickly end its misery with two shots from my suppressed (Osprey) Black Ops 1911.

It all happened so fast that I sure wasn't that it happened at all. What a fucking rush. I stood there and let a few second tick-by, hands shaking and sweat pouring, before the volume of adrenaline lessened and could resume normal function again.

"Be advised, a bird just landed outside of town hall," Jarhead said on the comm. "Three S-class monsters just stepped out of it."

"What are they?" I asked directly to Coon.

"Two cute Sirens and nine-tailed Youko."

Youko? Whenever I hear that word, my ticker would skip a beat and my body would freeze. This sensation was all too familiar. "What does the Youko look like?" I had to be sure. There weren't many Youko's out there that had nine tails. And the funny thing is: I knew one of them.

"Long hair...blonde... looks like a grade-A dickwad."

Fuck. I had to slap my chest hard just to calm the rapid pumping of my heart. "Breathe in and breathe out." I did it for about five minutes before I could even gain some semblance of composure. Was it excitement or fear? I may have mixed up the two. I'll know for once I get there. But I was sure about one thing: Anger. The kind that gets your muscles all tensed and you feel tremors as a result.

"Ghoul, where the fuck are you? Turn on your damn transmitter so I can track you. I won't be able to jump to your position if you get injured." Jarhead said. "Oh and Staff Sergeant Mach and rest are at the rendezvous point, they're waiting for you so you better get to them now."

Jarhead had this ability to teleport anywhere within a twenty-mile radius, but his body wasn't built like the rest of us, so he can't risk staying too long out in the field.

Before the war, he was an ER doctor, but due to a mix-up, he got drafted and was stationed at Fort Methuselah. Even now, the team still doesn't know what kind of monster he is. The other units in Charlie Company even made a betting pool. I bet he came from the school that housed incredibly gifted youngsters.

"I'm not going, brother."

"You're going for the hostages, right?"

"W-wait. How the fuck did you know?" I planned to leave it at that, but he replied so fast and so sure that I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I figured as much from reading your file. 'Hero Complex' huh? Yeah, well... I sort of have the same thing so maybe I won't tell the E6."

'Hero complex'? What the fuck did the MRC write on my file?

"What will you tell him?"

"That your ass got itchy like with Ichinose, so you can't get there in time."

It'll stain my reputation, but it was a small price to pay. "Thanks, brother."

"Don't forget to switch your fucking transmitter on!"

I reached the town hall. SSG Mach hadn't contacted me after Jarhead told him that I was anally incapacitated. I bet they were laughing their heads off. I hide behind a couple of oil drums stacked next to these big crates and look through my ACOG scope. My body froze with a familiar terror that had latched on to me ever since I 'died' on that fateful day at Yokai Academy. I couldn't move and I wanted to scream until all the air in my head went out of my mouth.

It really was Kuyou. And he had nine-fucking-tails. For a Youko, that meant that they had reached the peak of their power. And it meant a whole lot of trouble for me.

I was positive that he was dead when I beat the living shit out of him and there was no way that he could survive the Floating Garden crashing in the middle of the sea. But he was there, right in front of my eyes –or rather- my scope. I thought that the fear would go away after I defeated him, but I was wrong. Was destiny screwing with me? Was I fated to fight to this guy every-fucking-time?

The townsfolk were shackled together and were down on their knees in front of the town hall, just like Coon said. It was a special kind of evil to include women and children there. They all looked scared shitless- cuts and bruises marred their bodies, clothes were torn up and some of them looked like they already had a foot in the grave. A few of them fought back and resisted, but the sound of heavy machine guns ripping into the air was enough to persuade them.

I noticed something though "Coon, is that all of them?" there must've been a few hundred of them- certainly not going above three hundred.

"Negative, the rest of them had been transferred to different camps."

It made me wonder why these people were still kept there. Why not just transfer all of them to another concentration camp?

Kuyou was pacing back and forth in front of them while he had this crazy look in his eyes. Then he started shouting in a language I wasn't familiar with, his face contorting like that of a snarling dog.

"Coon, what's he saying?" I asked since his scope had a directional microphone so he could eavesdrop on enemy conversations.

"I skipped Elvish when I was at school, but I do understand a few words. I think he's…angry."

"Yeah, you think?!"

"It's like… wait…It looks like they were secretly aiding the YDF."

That was a big fucking no-no. Kuyo was this absolute purist nutjob that had zero tolerance for anything related to humans. He then lifted up one of them by the throat in a fit of anger. The man was choking and crying. I didn't understand what he was saying, but it wasn't hard to figure out that he was begging for his life. Swirls of blue fire engulf Kuyou's body until he was completely robed in flames hot enough to melt the man's face off. Then he turns his deranged eyes towards the hapless civilians as the man, who was someone's husband or father, dies a slow and gruesome death.

"Coon! Take the shot!" He didn't respond. "Coon!"

Kuyou's getting ready. He lets out a maniacal laugh that got the civilians screaming and crying. A few of them try to escape, and those who succeeded got promptly gunned down.

That was enough to strengthen my convictions. The outcome will entirely depend on how much level-grinding the bastard did. But judging from his appearance, I say he had plenty of time to level up. The fear I had felt earlier felt like a dream- it wasn't real after all. I had a sudden, smoldering urge to rip his head off. As the black vines flooded with Alucard's tainted blood crawled up my neck, my vision started blurring into a crimson haze.

Before I could jump over there, a pair of muscular arms wrapped me in a headlock. I struggle, fangs bared to the fullest and veins popping out from my arms. "Let go of me!" It was Big Man Itchy. Mach and the rest of squad were right behind him waving the intel that they just secured.

"He's going to torch those civilians if we don't go over there!" I managed to loosen his hold, but Sigma, Deetz, and Spray held my legs back like they were a bunch of fucking wheel clamps. It was one of those times that I actually felt helpless.

"We have the intel, our mission here is done! Now stand down!"

Kuyou starts burning them one by one with thin blasts of hellfire. Itchy wouldn't let me go and my tears were starting flowing out uncontrollably. I felt a few wet drops sliding down my cheeks that weren't mine. It looked like Itchy was also crying. So why? Why the fuck wouldn't they let me go?!

"NO! FUCK! FUCK!"

"Stand down! We have to EXFIL now!"

"I can take them! I can fucking take them! So let go of me! Coon! Take the fucking shot!"

"I can't let Coon do that, brother." Instead of Coon, X-Man was the one who answered the comm.

Fuck it, they can court-martial me and suck my dick for all I care. There was no way that I would let those people die. I elbowed Itchy in the gut. It seemed to do the trick as his grip loosened even more. I elbowed him again and again until he was coughing-up wads of blood and I could feel a couple of his ribs break. I managed to shake off Deetz and Sigma from my legs, but after I ran for a few steps, a bullet went through my right shoulder, leaving a huge exit wound the size of a softball.

I stumbled from the impact but I kept running. I didn't know who shot me and I didn't care. Then another round exploded from my left shoulder. I saw a huge chunk of meat fly off, but it wasn't enough to stop me. It hurt like hell; but not doing anything, even though you can, was more painful than any form of torture.

A huge, slimy tentacle coiled around my waist with enough pressure to crush my spine. Four more tentacles shot out and pulled-back my arms and legs. It was Spray, already in his true form.

The beast inside me was raring to go. I can't hold it back any longer. The sheer rage coursing through me fed it until it fattened up to the point it couldn't stay locked in its cage.

Even though both of my shoulders were practically useless, a surge of power blocked all the pain receptors in my head. Slowly, with great effort, I was able to rip-out one of Spray's tentacles. I could hear him scream, but my ears were closed to fuckers who were willing to let innocent people die.

"Sarge! He's Ghoul-ing out!" I heard him shout, but it was all muffled.

"X-Man! Do it!" Mach ordered.

"Roger." X-Man made a point to give me a heads-up through my radio.

Spray retracted the tentacle that had wrapped around on my abdomen, leaving me exposed. A .408 Cheyenne Tactical pierces through my vest and creates water-like ripples like my body was made of Jell-O. It burst through just below my heart and a fountain of blood and viscera erupted.

Spray released me from his clutches and my body fell limp, but I could still see Kuyou burning the civilians to ashes. Some of them didn't die instantly. Others were fruitlessly trying to put the flames out. It was like a big bonfire made of dancing corpses. Distorted screams filled the air, screams that would continue to ring in my ears every time things go quiet.

My mind went back to the family photo just before my eyes closed; to the kid that grew up to have a family of his own. I wonder if they died quickly.

"Six lives were lost in a fire that broke out somewhere in Shinjuku this morning." He was suddenly at Venus Fort, Odaiba. How he got there… he couldn't remember. His eyes were too fixated on the bright flat-screen that hung over one of the shop windows. He clutched the area where the bullet pierced through him almost habitually. His mind was as blank as his stare, but he could feel something well-up in his chest.

"Tsukune!" a female voice wrenched him out his idle gazing. As if a dam broke, all sorts of sounds and visual stimuli bombarded his senses. Families walked around, a bunch of friends gossiped loudly about a girl named Kasumi and how she had been doing Enjo-Kosai, and a couple briefly fought over spilled ice cream. There were many more, but those were the things that suddenly came into focus. And then the voices started merging into one indistinguishable, garbled noise that almost popped his eardrums.

He felt something tug at his sleeve and then he caught it with blinding speed. His other hand unconsciously reached for a holster that wasn't there. And for the briefest second, he felt naked without his gun. But all of that seemed inconsequential once he laid eyes on the owner of the hand.

He dropped it like it a hot piece of coal. The alarm in his head, the red alert that caused him to go haywire, died down and a sudden, overwhelming urge for damage control took its place. Mizore stared at him with a mix of fear and apprehension, all while clutching an aching wrist. He tried to reach out for her but she reflexively avoided his touch. It was like a kick in the 'nads and her terrified face only made him feel twice as bad.

Mizore also felt some guilt when she saw his crushed look. She knew he hadn't meant to do it and it was very apparent that he was suffering from something. "Are you okay?" she asked with an understanding tone.

There was a very visible mark on her wrist and he wondered why she was the one that asked that. He felt even worse than before and every second that passed added a 'plus-one' to the levels of shit of he felt. He grabbed her wrist with the utmost care and eyed the possible sprain without saying a word.

It was in the way he held her hand that made her blush. His palms were rough and calloused, but they were surprisingly light and warm. She let him graze his thumb on the area where it felt sore in order to soothe it a little. The act triggered memories in her that she didn't want. She'd rather not get too attached again.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." She gently yanked her wrist away. Her natural regeneration would kick-in soon and it would all be healed before the day ended.

"Are you okay?" She asked again as her palm gently cupped his face tenderly-but not too lovingly. His five o'clock shadow pricked her palm; it was like placing your hand on the tip of grass without pressing down. He really wasn't the baby faced boy she met in Yokai Academy, she mused. His brown hair was a shade lighter and his face had this perpetual look of stoicism that made it really hard to guess what he was thinking. In the few seconds of being lost in thought, she realized that she got too carried away. Mizore lightly slapped his face three times in an effort to stay casual.

He looked back towards the LED TV. The news had already changed, saying something about the Japan Samurai Bears revival.

"I'm okay. I just-" he stalled, throat constricting, almost cutting off the flow of air. "I'm sorry. I have to take a leak." He ran towards the nearest restroom and found a stall where he cried for the first time in a long time.

When he got out, Mizore was waiting for him. It was humiliating. But neither of them said a thing about it.

Mizore never struck him as the 'Sukiyaki' type of girl. Tsukune drank his beer while she chomped down on a piece of Shiitake. He noticed that she didn't like tofu, because she always avoided it like the plague. He snuck a glance at her bowl- it was filled with mushrooms. That meant the task of clearing out the tofu fell on him. He couldn't say anything since he didn't know if she turned into one of those ultra sensitive people in this day and age. Eight years was a really long time and it could change a person in a million ways. You could love one person today and then hate them the next. Hell, a shy girl like her turned into a lady cop, part of the SAT if he recalled correctly.

It was only 10 PM but only a few people ate there with them. The food was nice for a cheap, three-hundred-yen buffet. The place was nice and quiet- it looked like the kind joint where salarymen and office women would hang out after a nine to five job and get wasted, only to be late for work the next day. Mizore stood out the most with her model-like looks, alabaster skin and sad blue eyes. He expected to pull out a wad of cash and treat her to a nicer place, but this was also okay. It was actually more up his alley, plus the beer was super cold.

The fire underneath the pot made his armpits sweat, so he took off his jacket- he only hoped that there weren't any pit stains on his grey shirt. If the heat made him take off an article of clothing, he wondered how Mizore fared. She was a Yuki-Onna after all and heat was something they never agreed with. He glanced to the side; she was still happily eating to her heart's content. He shrugged, since everything looked okay, and folded the jacket, placing it on the side after.

He didn't notice, but after he took off his jacket, Mizore stopped eating after remembering that she was accompanied by a very handsome ex-lover. His sleeves hugged his ripped biceps like they were two sizes smaller. There was even a little bit of tattoo peeking out from his right sleeve. Was it mandatory for military guys to get tattoos? She wondered. Then, her eyes trailed to the Latin ink on his forearms that read 'NEMO MALUS FELIX' she couldn't help but raise a brow at what it could have meant. Her Latin was rusty since she never paid attention to it in school. She blushed when he caught her staring too long and returned to eating.

The two ate in relative silence and Mizore hated it. Tsukune didn't mind at all.

An hour later and the table was already piling up with cans of Asahi Super Dry. It was actually enough to grease the gears of their rusty relationship. Mizore smiled more, which was a welcome change from her dull demeanor. She looked at him fondly- as you would with a puppy trying (and failing) to climb up the stairs as he tinkered with his new phone. She didn't notice it herself, but there was a big dumb grin pasted on her face.

Each time a new customer came in, Mizore would take a look at the entrance like she was expecting something. Tsukune, also with loosened inhibitions, took the opportunity to test out his phone camera. And like the puppy that he was, he failed miserably at sneaking out a candid photo of the lovely, drunk lady since he left the shutter effect on.

He decided to roll with it and rapidly smashed the big white button as Mizore turned her head towards him. You can see her expression gradually change with each picture. It went from confused, to incredulous and then to a big, warm smile. He felt like he was the unwanted company for the rest of their 'date' and to see her flashing a grin lessened the weight dragging him down. It made him feel…warm and accepted. Or maybe it was just the alcohol.

"What are you doing?" she asked coyly.

"Nothing." He countered just as coy.

"Lemme see!"

"Don't worry you look fine! You might delete them if I gave it to you."

"Why would I delete it if I looked 'fine'?" she quickly shot back.

"Different people have different views on beauty. You might say you look ugly in one photo, but when you show it to other people, they say 'oh shut up! You look great!' and then they accuse you of humble bragging and then you feel bad." Tsukune realized that it might have implied something. He hoped Mizore hadn't caught wind of it.

Mizore diverted her gaze and tried hiding her blushing face. "So…I'm beautiful?" she would have never asked under normal circumstances. The emotions she felt were stronger thanks to the beer. She held in her breath as she waited for his reply, clutching her chest with anticipation. She looked like an idiot.

Holy shit! She noticed! He internally screamed. Is she flirting with me?!

He couldn't stress it enough, but yeah. She was beautiful. Any time old flames reunite, one was bound to compare the other to the last version of them that they saw.

Is she really a cop? He wondered. She was like a model with her toned body and striking looks. All these what-ifs started popping up in his head again. And then this bitter feeling of regret got thrown in the mix. It was usually the one left behind who felt the brunt of the breakup. Unfortunately for him, he was the one left behind. He realized that he was starting to drift, so he shook his head and then stared at her directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, you are." It wasn't mocking or sarcastic in any way, it was purely earnest.

Is he trying to flirt?! Her face turned a darkened shade of pink. Never mind that she was the one who started it. The sudden jolt of excitement and romantic thrill got her to open up another can of beer, which she chugged it down in one fell swoop. She slammed the can back down on the table with force and scooted over to his side. The Snow Woman held out her palm as if to say 'gimme' and he shook his head as a 'no'. The two went on like that until one of them had enough.

Mizore gave him a poke on the waist. It was a good thing that he didn't instinctually lash out, given his nature. "Ow! Hey!" She poked again and his body jolted slightly upward. Seeing his reaction, she grinned mischievously, which was never a good sign. Her tickling torture was relentless, but he kinda liked. She switched up her tactics and pinched his waist, which seemed to be the most vulnerable part.

She felt a little horny at getting a feel out of his six-pack, but she continued anyway.

He was laughing uncontrollably the longer she kept tickling him and eventually, he gave her the phone. He was no match for her fingers.

Mizore, at the height of her narcissism, thought that photos were good and they captured her good angles. She shot him a look of approval and gave him a 'thumbs-up'. It felt weird, but the mood was ripe for all sorts of playful and flirty shit. She leaned back on his sturdy frame, catching him off-guard, and held out his phone with the camera ready. She'll just have to regret it later.

Tsukune managed to force out an awkward smile.

Mizore was pressed up to him and he could feel his pants tighten. He was a man starved of intimacy. Sure he went to a few whore houses while he was on tour, but it was never enough. After being employed by Fang-fang, the mafia lord set him up with a Jiangshi, like Ling-ling. He didn't bother to use rubber since the woman was already dead, so he didn't need to worry about getting her pregnant. After they had done the deed, Tsukune spent a whole day in the infirmary with his dick oozing. He never let Fangfang set him up ever again and he abstained from sex since. That was two years ago.

He was lucky that Mizore was leaning on his shoulders and not on his front. His dick was so hard it could be used for karate chopping cinder blocks. It took everything he had, every ounce of will power to not wrap his arm around her tight waist or fuck her right on the spot- or anything that would make him a sex offender for the matter.

When she went back to her seat, a wave of relief washed over him, but the boner was still there. He avoided looking at her for about a minute and squeezed his eyes shut, imagining things that had a hundred-percent chance of softening his manhood. Things like his stank-dick, hairy spiders, slug-men, etc… Once he was limp he looked back at Mizore who was eyeing him strangely. Turns out she had been talking to him, but he was too busy trying to deflate his balloon that he didn't hear what she had to say.

"Are you having an attack again?" she asked. Oh boy, she had no idea. He was having an attack alright.

"What 'attack'?

"You know… PTSD?"

He shook his head fiercely in denial "I'm okay! Really!" he held up his hands defensively. There was no way in hell that he would tell her that she was the reason for one of the hardest boners in his life. It was just a misunderstanding, but misunderstandings could lead to a lot of big things. Her furrowed brows were an obvious sign that she didn't buy a word he said.

"I'm okay, Mizore." He took a sip of beer, wishing that it was enough to dissuade her from prying any further.

But persistence, as you could say, was Mizore's middle name. But it just sounded dumb if said out loud. His constant dodging was really getting to her; so much that she looked like a fuming tomato.

"It was the news wasn't it?" she blurted out.

This woman was as sharp as a KA-BAR. It was one of the things that he hated…and loved about her.

"What?"

"The fire in Shinjuku…it triggered something, right?"

If there was a scale with his feeling about her on both ends, it would've tipped slightly to 'hate'. But one look at her and it would slightly tilt back to 'love'. It those feelings of his ever had a personification then it'd be two kids trying to outdo each other on the seesaw. Maybe he should kiss her just to shut her up? No, no, no. That was too rude of him. It was time to stop letting his dick do the talking and return to the more pressing matters.

"No. It didn't."

"I saw you while you were the news. You had this distant stare and you were crying." he didn't notice, but Mizore watched him the moment he stopped walking back at the mall. He was like a still-frame in the frantic and bustling backdrop. A small glint rolled down his cheek. At first, she thought it was a reflection on the TV or something. But after much scrutiny, she figured it really was a tear. He looked lost and empty, thousand-yard-stare and all.

"I was?"

She gently nodded. "There's nothing bad in admitting it Tsukune… have you gone to a VA or therapist at least?"

It wasn't her words that broke down his walls- it was the look in her eyes. It was the complete opposite of 'staring daggers'. Hers was reassuring like an embrace or whispered words of comfort saying things like 'it's going to be okay.' But it was all made through eye-contact.

"I don't think it'll be the same way as here. I was with YDF, not the JSDF. Humans will think I'm a crackpot or something if I tell them I was part of a monster battalion." The existence of monsters was a heavily kept secret. It was the reason why the war started in the first place. But since the YDF and the FISR (Federation of Interspecies Relations- it was kind of like the UN) won, The Supreme Council decided that it was still too early for the big reveal.

"I meant back at home? There are a lot of qualified monsters out there that could help you."

"I didn't have a good reason to go." In other words, he was out doing so much wet work for the Huang Mafia that going to a therapist seemed rather pointless.

"Try it. It might help. I know someone near Mirata Road in East Valley. I'll talk to her and maybe she can set you an appointment."

"East Valley? That's back in the mainland, isn't it? I don't know…" he wasn't legally declared dead in absentia yet, so if he stepped foot back at home and someone sees him, it might cause a stir. Well, he planned to wait two or three years since he'd be literally dead by then.

"Tsukune, I still care about you. So, come on…try it okay?" Saying that felt like dropping a fucking nuke on a clear field of Kansas Wheat. It was an unexpected move, one that pressed all the right buttons. It was enough to have him reluctantly agree. This woman was just so damn persistent. It was also endearing. And also kind of hot.

"Promise me you'll go?"

He didn't want it to be the type of 'okay, I'll go.' And then really not go. She was a decent, good-natured individual and her intentions were nothing but pure. It'd be a slap in the face if he didn't go.

"I promise. But I gotta ask 'ya…would you have said it under any circumstance?"

"What?"

"The part where you said you cared about me?"

"No."

It became very apparent that Mizore was drunk. There was a slur in the way she talked and her sense of balance was all over the place. She'd knock over a few cans of beer and say she's sorry as if to save face. The harder you try not to look drunk, the more you get drunk. There was some sort of exhaustion in fighting the alcohol running in your brain. It's better to just leave it be.

Mizore got all philosophical and spoke in broken English. Tsukune couldn't understand what the fuck she was saying but it managed to get a laugh out of him. She'd get angry and he'd say sorry. A few times, he caught her dozing off. It must've been a special skill to fall asleep with your eyes wide open. He'd tell her that she had enough, but she was adamant and damn-near ignorant to the limits of her body. Instead of fighting, he relented. He'd like to see how far she'd go.

They talked about life's ups and downs. She told him how there was this guy in her workplace that had a crush on her, but she didn't know how to turn him down without wrecking his life. He'd internally get jealous and tell her that she should be direct as to not lead him on. She was drunk enough to be in a position of heightened suggestibility, so it looked like she was going to take it to heart.

The Sukiyaki was already cold and it became unappetizing very quickly. There wasn't much left anyway since he did all the heavy lifting. Mizore only had about a few bowls. Maybe that's why she was piss-drunk. As their conversations deepened, Tsukune found himself picking out pieces of meat from the pot with his fingers and then munching them down. He did that from time to time.

Their friends were brought up and so was high school. Mizore told him how much she disliked being made the Newspaper Club President in their final year since it added a shit-ton of work to an already busy semester. He said that there was a vacancy that needed to be filled and he couldn't continue being the club president since he became the President of the Student Council. Mizore already knew that but she just wanted a reason to complain more.

Speaking of friends…

"Didn't you have a reunion a few days ago?"

The mere mention of the reunion almost sobered her up. "Yeah…"

"How did it go?"

"It…" then she remembered Kurumu's bloody hands "didn't go so well."

"Why is that?"

"Kurumu…had a relapse." She considered not uttering a word about the memorable occurrence a few nights before, but since he was indirectly involved, she might as well tell him. He deserved to know. "She's starting to remember again…"

"What did she do?" he asked despite knowing what she'd say.

"She went hysterical… and broke her hands." Mizore looked like she was on the verge of tears and took yet another swig of beer "It's already been so long since her last one. We thought that she finally recovered. I don't really think that it was right to let her undergo the memory wipe. We should have done something you know? It feels like we took something from her. Oh god…" Mizore wiped away a few of the salty droplets freely cascading down her flushed face.

"If we didn't then she'd be dead already." He was the only reason why Kurumu suffered so much. The whole mechanic of "destined ones" was so unfair. And he hated everything about it since the rejecting party would feel responsible for any sleepless nights and wounded feelings. It was emotional blackmail at its finest.

"Gee, I wonder whose fault is that?"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"What? You think it was my fault?" he asked since she had this accusing gaze.

It was a hard question, and frankly, not the one she would want to answer. But circumstances compelled her to and she was willing to drop a few more bombs and get it over with. "Yeah…I think so. But I think it was more about you choosing that fucking vampire bitch."

That hurt harder than that .408 Cheyenne Tactical even though there was some truth to it. It was completely unexpected, like a sucker punch but using a battering ram instead. "You never really do get to choose who you love." It was an argument that he always told himself to lessen the guilt; he just never got the chance to say it to anyone else.

That's the thing about harems- someone was always bound to get hurt. It all starts fun and sexy, eventually you think for yourself and your future, think about monogamy, pick someone and then it all falls apart. You realize you weren't as close to them like before since the one you picked started monopolizing you and you regret it and wished you didn't pick at all. But if you didn't, you'll lead them on, they got hurt and you'd want to kill yourself in the end.

"If I recall, you had four choices- five, counting Yukari, if you were into that type of shit." Mizore got heated up, ready to hurl more words of pain. "But instead you choose the one who wanted to play monopoly and separate you from your friends." It was a scathing remark, to say the least.

"I'm sorry but that argument is really stupid."

"Yeah…like Kurumu was stupid, and Ruby and Yukari… like I was stupid. Stupid enough to fall for you." Mizore crushed the empty can of beer in her hand with monstrous ease.

"There was no way that I could have made you all happy, damn it!"

"You're wrong about that, Aono." Putting his insecurities aside, they would have been happy as friends. Strip away all the romantic feelings and there would be friendship and camaraderie that could still stand on a solid foundation. But his relationship with Moka put a dent in theirs, weakening the foundation until it all crumbled down.

"At that time…it was either Moka or you guys…And it had to be Moka." Tsukune saw her face twist in pure disdain at the mention of her. What really happened between the two? A few rumors floated around that the two had a fight when Moka came back from a five-month absence.

"Then it really was a good thing that I broke up with you before things got serious between us." She sneered in absolute, poisonous, scornful derision. In all truth, things were already serious on her side. What made it worse was that she didn't have a full grasp of his feelings about her. But after hearing it coming from him, she was lucky to have dodged a bullet there.

He took offense to that. There was only so much indignation that he could handle. "Is that why you broke up with me? Because you thought I wasn't serious about you?"

"Among other things."

"You're wrong about that one, Shirayuki. I was serious!"

She clenched her teeth. Was she a joke to him? Did she really look that stupid to not know that it wasn't the case? "Do you remember what happened before the 'incident'? When she suddenly returned out-of-fucking-nowhere?"

He remembered being with Moka in the Yokai Academy rooftop that day, even though he and Mizore were already lovers. Moka pushed him down, wanting to set things straight.

"It was obvious that you were never serious… seeing that she was all over you!"

"You never gave me a chance to explain!"

"What I saw back then…does not need an explanation." If there really was an explanation to it all, she'd rather not know. The fear in her heart couldn't allow her to accept any possiblity of truth in his denials.

"How would you know?! Huh?! You just broke up with me without letting me say a goddamn word!"

"And you just let me go! No hand-grabbing or any of that shit! You let me leave, Tsukune! Fuck!" she dropped all pretenses of subtlety. Years and years of pent-up rage finally released towards the source of her grief "I wanted you to fucking stop me so that I had some consolation that you loved me. But you didn't… You just stood there. That's saying a lot about you."

Tsukune had no comeback for that one. That's where he admitted defeat. The pair became silent as the tension was so thick it became harder to breathe. Mizore leaned back and stared at him with equal parts of contempt, regret, and sadness.

They were the only ones left in the restaurant. All of the other customers were already gone. The restaurant guys just stared at them, letting them have some closure even though it was way past closing time.

"I hated you, 'Ya know? For the longest time…"

Tsukune didn't say a word and braced himself for the incoming tirade. He could take it. It'll only take a few more beers, but he could take it.

"I broke up with you… because you were an unfaithful son of a bitch." Her anger had already dialed down. She looked exhausted like she was going to drop any second.

He nodded. That was true. He was only ever really faithful to Moka. He hated himself for that too since he remained faithful even after she left him.

"Because you were indecisive." a trait that provided them with false comfort that maybe one they'd be the main love interests of their own stories and not just underdeveloped characters of a harem.

Come on, bring it all out. Tsukune thought.

"I thought that there was a happy ending for us. But I was wrong… there really were no happy endings in real life. You would've never made a good lover, a partner, and a husband." She continued, drunkenly crying her heart out. All those memories of them being together just exploded and it was so painful for her. But the most painful of their memories together, incidentally, was also her happiest.

"You would have never made...!"

...A good father to our daughter? She stopped mid-sentence after realizing she was about to drop yet another nuke. Her lips were looser than most reputations and she wasn't prepared for the consequences if she were to ever tell him of something that important. It was already eight years… he didn't need to know anymore. He didn't deserve to know. It's something that she'd rather take to her grave.

"I get it… I'm the worst." He smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, you are…" she felt lightheaded and the resentment she wore like shield got whittled down.

"Then you must have regretted it, huh?" he asked.

"What?"

"Us?"

That was a question she asked herself all the time. Eight years was enough to figure out an answer "Yeah, I do. But it wasn't all that bad."

Mizore blacked-out a few minutes later. I seriously thought she went into a coma. With a little help from the resto-guys and a lot of apologizing, we managed to book a cab. The driver asked me 'where to?' I couldn't give him an answer for about ten minutes since Mizore's address wasn't really common knowledge. So we sat there in the car, hazard's blinking, while I try to nudge a few words out from her (almost) non-responsive state.

Eventually, she managed to irately piece together a sentence and went back to sleep. She used me as a pillow and I could smell her sweet shampoo that became oddly fragrant when mixed with the smell of alcohol leaking out of her pores. It was a good thing that her level of intoxication never went above 'puking madly'.

For the rest of the thirty-minute trip, she kept sliding her hands over my chest and she placed both of her silky legs on top mine, while she rested her head on the crook of my neck. I couldn't really do anything about it because I started drifting in and out myself. When she stirred in her sleep, her lips would press on my neck and from time-to-time, she'd give it soft kisses. It was really testing the limits on how far a man could hold back. During a lucid interval, when I wasn't dreaming with my eyes open, I saw the driver giving me a look that said 'you good, bro.'

I didn't give him a tip after that.

We arrived at her slightly-lavish looking apartment. Before exiting the car, I fished out her keys from her purse that –coincidentally- had her room number on it. I would have to tell her to change keys because it could become a security problem.

I carried her bridal style, struggling to remain diligent since I was tipsy myself. The first thing that assaulted my eyes when I entered the complex was the sign that said "ELEVATOR UNDER REPAIR". After a slog through the stairs, we reached her room on the fifth floor. I never let go of her when I opened the door. I had enough foresight not to place her keys back in my pocket.

I dropped her gingerly on the bed and after that, the heat that my body generated from the climb released a ton of sweat. A few seconds later and my shirt is all soaked and sticky and I really want to jump out of a building. Mizore caught me in an embrace and wrapped her well-toned arms around my neck.

She whispered my name "Tsukune…"

It was just the two of us in a very compromising position.

Without all the distractions that the outside world had to offer, I got a good unobstructed look at her face up close. She really is beautiful. Pale skin, long lashes… Just beautiful. Her lips were pouty and her face was really red making it look really erotic.

I gently wiggle out from her embrace. Tsukune Aono isn't the type of man to give in to temptation. I feel good about it for a while and feel like shit not a moment later when I saw a few tears slide down from her eyes. Jumping out of a building seemed like a viable option right now. I just learned not too long ago that she hated me. The harsh, truthful words felt like gunfire at point-blank range. I was so used to getting shit-on by my commanding officers and Fangfang that I thought I could handle it. But it was different when such words came from someone you loved.

Those were the kind of things that will stay with you for a long time. Even when you're not actually thinking about it. Or if you're having a good time, it'd pop-up and you think about all the wrong things you did. Day instantly ruined.

I guess I really was unfair to her and to all of them. Would things be different if I got together with Kurumu? Why did I choose Moka? Why didn't I stop Mizore from leaving me? Would Mizore and I still be together if I gave her the ring and proposed to her before Moka came back? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Too much 'what-ifs' for my beer-pickled-brain to process.

My feet brought me back to Mizore's side. Looking at her and wishing things were different was something I never wanted to experience. I had to do something about the dull ache in my chest. So I drop down on a knee and plant a soft kiss on her forehead. She would never know. The worst case scenario is when she suddenly opens her eyes and she completely cuts me off the morning after. It didn't work and I was left with an even more painful ache.

"I'm sorry…" for everything.

I go to her living room thinking that it was time for me to head back, but not before looking around her apartment. This might be the first and last time I see this place. It certainly looked better than mine. It felt lived-in and homey, especially with all the baskets of unfolded clothes lying around. That reminds me… I haven't even unpacked yet.

Isn't it April? Her calendar was flipped back to March and there was a red circle on the number 8. My body started craving alcohol again. March 8 was the day of the 'incident'. But was it such an important date for her as to warrant a yearly reminder? She never actually did much back then, instead of maybe fight that 'thing' but if I remember correctly she was hospitalized soon after.

I really need to get wasted when I get home.

My hand was inches from the doorknob when I realized that my back pocket was a tad bit airy.

It was midnight when a large cargo truck rolled down the highway. It was en route for Port Akiba.

"Why couldn't we just…use magic to transport this motherfucker?" Beady Eye said asked in a heavy Australian accent.

"Because the Boss said that due to the delicate nature of this truck's content, he'd rather not risk diluting the purity of whatever-the-fuck it was back there. Or would you rather prefer having an international conglomerate of fucking vampires hot on our ass?" Goose, the driver, said in a condescending tone as if he were speaking to a five-year-old.

"You know, there's a higher chance of something bad happening if we're transporting it by truck. " He shook his head "Just sayin'."

"But it would be more inconspicuous it we did transfer it by truck." Goose kept his eyes on the road "Just sayin'."

"Whatever." Beady Eye reached for his radio "How you are guys doing back there?"

"Are you sure this fucker's brain-dead?"

"Why? What's happening?" there was panic in his voice. He knew just dangerous their cargo was.

"I saw him twitch a few seconds ago."

Beady Eye sighed in relief "That's a normal occurrence, Bingo."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay."

"Woah. Who the fuck are these guys?" Goose depressed the gas and slowed to a halt after seeing a squad of black-clad and heavily armed men blocking the road. One of the said men flagged them down. Goose, thinking that they were police, obliged and got off the road.

"Bingo, get your men ready. We might get trouble." Beady Eye radioed in.

"Roger."

The man calmly approached Goose's side and knocked on the window which Goose lowered "Good evening, gentlemen." The man said while sporting an all-too-polite smile.

"Good evening," Goose replied with a smile as fake as his Jordans. "If I may ask, kind sir, who are you again?"

"Port Authority."

There was no fucking way that these guys were Port Authority. They were three miles away from Port Akiba and no Port Authority in the world was armed like a fucking J-SOC unit. But Goose rolled with it and reached for his sidearm.

"May I see your papers, sir?"

It was the perfect opportunity to pop a cap in the man's head. But the man was faster. Before Goose could even pull out his pistol, he was already dead. The same happened to Beady Eye.

Bingo and his men jumped out from the truck's huge container. Bullets were sprayed and they never reached the ground alive.

The black-clad assailants formed up on the truck's rear as the man known as "Silverback" jumped inside the shipping container. He's the type of you'd look at and say 'oh he's the bad guy' with his Latino features and his sharp looking goatee.

"This is Spearhead."

"Go ahead, Spearhead."

"We received the package."

"Good job. Remember: bring it back in one piece. Out."

"Copy."

The container had computers inside of it. All of them were neatly lined up for whatever purpose they may have served. At the end of the container was a stasis pod that bathed the surroundings in an otherworldly hue of green.

There was a man inside it. A very tall man suspended by tubes. If he were to stand straight, he'd be well over seven feet tall.

Silverback grabbed a few vials from one of the chemical synthesizers and jammed it into his pocket. He was about to jump out of the container when he heard a scraping sound coming from the stasis pod.

He went back cautiously, weapon raised and finger on the trigger. A voice in his head told him not to go, but curiosity overrode his better judgment. He analyzed the tank and the man inside it. The man showed no sign of movement except for the faint rising of his chest. Written above the pod was:

"A56- Hokuto Kaneshiro"

Then he realized something: if he were to look back down, he'd expect the man's eyes to be wide open.

He was right.

The last things he saw were bright, demonic red eyes and a pair of sharpened fangs.

A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait. Life got in the way of writing. But rest assured, I will be frequent in my updates. So what do you think about the new chapter? If you like, please leave a review and follow it. If you have any constructive criticism, I'd be happy to listen as it can further improve my writing :) Thank you for reading!