Project 3, Part 3:

War, Recommence!

The small UI on the left-hand side of the monitor flashed 6:12 am. Fuyuhiko had been at this for half an hour now and he was in no better mind than when he started. A gaunt shade of winter blue pressed against the windows next to him and stirred the whole room into a freakish chill, which his body did not take well, convulsing regularly to remind him that:

A) He was still alive,

and B) He most definitely needed more layers than a pinstripe suit-and-tie and shirt when it was this early into the new year. Every movement he made with his fingers ached, though he could not feel the tips, and he swore at times he could hear his leg-bones creak as he moved them as the silence and blinking blue lights were the only accompaniments to the occasional long, drawn-out sigh or expletive that escaped his lips. Fuyuhiko was here to do one thing and one thing only: knock that bastard Mondo down a peg or two and preferably not get injured in the process. But to do this he would need a new style of warfare, one completely new to him, that being information. And by God, there was a lot of it out there. The Crazy Diamonds (which Fuyuhiko suspected stemmed less from Pink Floyd and perhaps from a piece of media more close to home) were notorious for both their brazenness and young leader. Much like the Yakuza, there was some order and rules to be followed but they were enforced to a much stricter degree – for example the Tokyo Times reported on a recent looting of a shop (owing protection money) on the outskirts of the city carried out by four Crazy Diamonds members, in which 6 innocent bystanders were killed. An inside source from the gang told the Times that these members got off with a 'light scolding' at best. In the Yakuza avoiding the endangerment of innocents wherever necessary was a rule to be kept and respected. Kill a few more than seems absolutely necessary? You could face exile – or something far more grisly.

Fuyuhiko had only been searching for an hour and already the infractions upon Mondo's dignity, dishonour and misconduct had begun to add up. His brother proceeding him had an air of respectability about him, some lines he would not cross, sometimes he even seemed to show mercy, but Mondo was an insecure hulking mass of testosterone and anything that gave him more clout, resources, or secured the trust of individuals in the gang he would take, even if it meant overstepping many boundaries and codes of honour (unwritten as they may be). Fuyuhiko knew what it was like to fear for your life when in a position of power, but Mondo had gone about it like a complete rookie and it showed. This was information available for the public to see for goodness sake's! Imagine what dirt Fuyuhiko could dig up if he asked some of his contacts for it… While relishing that thought, he heard the door open and quickly snapped back to reality, opening a news tab and pretending to look through it. A boy spoke from next to him. "…What's a Yakuza doing here?" Byakuya asked. Immediately Fuyuhiko knew why he was here, but put that on hold for the moment.

"Well, I ain't working on my fuckin' project, so…" Fuyuhiko paused for thought and then decided he'd speak his mind to this smarmy-looking Class 78 member. "Your classmates are all assholes, y'know that? That detective and biker especially. I'm guessing Peko came to see you?"

"That she did." Byakuya sat next to Fuyuhiko, which caused his stomach to turn. Ugh, rich people, he thought. "And I've got the cost covered." Byakuya smirked, which unnerved Fuyuhiko. He never really liked how people like Byakuya saw the Yakuza, to them it was an inconvenience that stopped them amassing even larger amounts of wealth. Some even laid spies in the organisation – Fuyuhiko remembered the first execution he had ever witnessed was a Shinoko Corp. spy who was found relaying information to his boss – who in turn was in league with the police. His brains took a few hours to clean from the cracks between the pavement and he had never seen a man so ugly and unwilling to go in his final moments. Why should one be frightened of dying, anyway? There's no reason for it, we've all go to go sometime. This discombobulated train of thinking came out of Fuyuhiko's mouth as:

"...that money isn't dirty, you know." If Byakuya was suspicious of this, he didn't show it.

"I never even asked about – or insinuated – that." Byakuya responded.

"Yeah, I know but it's just. Some of it is mine, but I got that through our family's more… legitimate businesses. We have a literal princess in our class, for fuck's sake! Nagito tried to get around 15 thousand yen from an ATM but the lucky bastard got 150 thousand instead. Chiaki gave some of her money from those gaming tournaments she wins. And Kazuichi-" Fuyuhiko's voice broke as he thought of his friend. He had often mentioned how shoestring everything was back at his old man's shop, how he was beaten when it came to being even slightly wasteful of money. And yet, he had given for the greater good. Sure, he was a creep… but that boy deserved the world sometimes. And someone better than Sonia. "Kazuichi didn't even have to chip in, but he did… fuck his bleeding heart attitude. We never even told Peko about that, she'd tell him to return it immediately. Yeah, it was only 7.5 thousand but… ugh." Byakuya looked entirely unamused by the whole outburst.

"I didn't ask you to tell me all that." This, oddly, caused Fuyuhiko to laugh dryly.

"Yeah, no shit. But you're the only one who knows about this whole reserve course bullshit and I had to get that off my chest." Byakuya merely shrugged, acting like emotions were beneath him and got up to leave. Fuyuhiko felt wrong at not showing at least some form of gratitude, calling out, "Hey. Thanks for helping out Hajime."

"Whatever."

Mondo sat around with nothing to do. Taka was out with Nekomaru again, thinking about what Chihiro could be doing made him feel physically ill and the gym was occupied so there wasn't much else to do but just sit there and… mope. Moping was a completely new experience for Mondo. Sure, there was grief and self-pity and anger and every other emotion on the goddamn spectrum but moping was this odd mix of sadness and boredom that Mondo – the hyper ball of rage he was – had not taken well to. He had considered doing a few things to stave this boredom off – ranging from going for a run to pinning someone's face (two individuals came to mind) to a punching bag and seeing how quick it would take to beat the stuffing out of it. But, seeing as nothing came to mind, he chose to nap instead. But even this action was quickly interrupted by Kyoko, who pounded on the door with all her might and demanded he opened up. Though technically, he thought as he opened the door, they were.

"This part of your job description? Jesus, it's like the damn police are round again."

"Mondo, I need your help with something. It requires a lot of brawn and preferably little brain to think about the morals of the situation, the cost and the years of mental trauma you'll be visiting upon a person by destroying a good chunk of personal scientific research."

Mondo blinked twice. "You lost me after 'brawn.'"

"Perfect, come with me to the chemistry lab. I'll explain the rest on the way. This'll get rid of that bored look in your eyes."

Mikan stood polishing some test tubes, enjoying the cute little squeaky sounds they made, when one suddenly went flying past her face and shattered, causing her to squeal in fear. "Wah! W-Who's there?"

"Good work, Mondo! Keep smashing everything here that looks like it could be used to make more aphrodisiacs."

"W-Wait, what's this about aprodisi—AH!" Mikan ducked as a stool flew past her head and collided with a rack of test tubes containing various solutions. "M-My babies…" She choked up as they pooled their contents onto the floor. "Those were bromide concentrates…" she sniffed. "If a-anything, they'd be the exact opposite of a-aphro-"

"Sorry about this, Mikan." Kyoko said, as she swerved out of the way of a projectile conical flask that had ingnited. "So he's even managing to set glass on fire… impressive…"

"Y-You Class 78 people are a bunch of meanies! Even more than Hiyoko! Explain yourselves!" Mikan snapped, showing that she still had a few vertebrae left in that spine of hers.

"Do I even need to explain past 'chemical lab' and 'aphrodisiacs'?" She asked as Mondo lifted a stool high overhead and brought them down on a plethora of glass bottles all labelled 'corrosive', causing a large smashing sound to sound around the room, following by a hissing noise. "This school really thought Teruteru and Hifumi were a good combination?"

"Oh… So that's why they were asking after me…" Mikan flushed red from embarrassment.

"Yeah, I saw them carrying some… suspicious liquids into the kitchen with them."

"W-Well, I haven't made any more! So call your dog off, please!" Mikan pointed to Mondo with a shaking finger.

"Mondo, you can stop causing hundreds of thousands in untold property damage now!" Kyoko turned to Mikan. "And, ah, don't worry. I'll have Naegi clean this up later. Anyway, if they ask for more, just decline, okay? Come on, Mondo, we're leaving." The two turned around and left the ruined lab, leaving Mikan standing in the middle of what looked like an active warzone.

"…you could've started with that last bit about declining…" She whined, though they were already gone.

Mondo lay down on his bed and sighed. What a cathartic day! The boredom of before was now replaced with exhilaration as the events earlier in the day replayed over in mind. Oh, if only he could dole out a smashing like that onto one of his two problems, then he would truly be in paradise! He considered Kirigiri a very good candidate for a replacement Taka (for the time being, no-one could break a bromance as strong as theirs forever), as long as he could continue with work like that. He laughed a simple laugh of pleasure as he remembered how many shards those stupid empty test tubes splintered into. And aphrodisiacs at this big banquet or whatever? Bah, he couldn't care less about trite like that. It wouldn't affect him in any negative way – or so he thought. And so, Mondo fell asleep, dreaming dreams of broken glass and burning rooms.

Fuyuhiko was utterly exhausted. He had spent eight hours toiling away at his computer, finding more information on the Crazy Diamonds. He had just gotten off the phone with one of his contacts, calling in a favour to find out more about the gang and its members. Surely there had to be someone close to Mondo he could exploit? He thought about this as he collapsed onto the bed and felt his back ache into a relaxed state. This whole thing fucking blew. He knew it'd be worth it in the end to expose Mondo as the guttersnipe of a gang leader he truly was, but was investigative work ever time-consuming and annoying. He couldn't trust half of the sources on this damn list, anyway. He wished Peko were in his room right now. She'd give him the right motivation to continue. Or maybe Kazuichi. He'd give him one of his hard-luck stories and then laugh about it afterwards, as if his suffering was a source of entertainment, something at which everyone could point and laugh at and then feel better about themselves because there was nothing easier than punching down. Hajime showed that, too. He faced slack from everyone in the class at times for attending their lessons when he was reserve course, but he was that close to everyone (and that loaded) that he could do so without a worry. But they weren't here. And Fuyuhiko felt ever more dismally lonely as he slipped under the covers and began to snore.