. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
In which the Flea Screws Everything Up, Sunglasses Save Shizuo's Sight and There Is No System
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
It had been right to not underestimate the man in a bartender suit. When he and Michele had proceeded to follow him, believing the civilian would prefer the stairs, said civilian had suddenly stopped and turned towards the balcony –
And promptly jumped off the building from the second floor.
Not using anything to climb down, just a huge leap from the 2nd floor to the ground.
Miraculously, when they had gone to check on him, they found him looking up at them, completely unharmed with a cigarette in his mouth and an irritated look in his eyes, shouting at them that weren't they assassins and couldn't they 'hurry the hell up?' For he wanted to get the fight over and done with.
The two assassins had shared a look that told each other they had the same ironic feeling of being the civilian – before they followed the man in a bartender suit's example.
...
Ten minutes later
...
And now, the three men were standing somewhere in Shinjuku, having followed the so called civilian to a relatively quiet area where they wouldn't draw much attention.
Despite his impatience, the blond man decked in black and white who had put on a pair of designer sunglasses had removed his cigarette from his lips and looked like he wanted to say something, so they waited.
"..You two. What are your names?"
He had spoken after staring at them for a while, and the Italian blond answered.
"I'm Luciano, and he's Michele."
Shizuo blinked. He tilted his head, staring at the black haired man.
"…..Michelle? Isn't that a girl's name in English?"
"Michele – not Michelle -Wait it's a girl's name in English?! Stop laughing, Luciano!"
The blond man was doubled over in laughter, pounding his fist against his thigh.
"- Haha- Haha- hahahaha! Sorry, Michelle."
He pronounced the feminine name with an innocent smile, causing the black haired man's face to heat up in embarrassment and anger.
"You bastard, I knew you were pronouncing my name weird! You mean all this time you've been calling me a girl's name?! Sounds nicer in the English pronunciation my foot! Bartender suit-san, really?!"
"Well my English isn't good but it sounds like a girl's name in English."
"Well it isn't! In Italian, it's Mi-KEH-lee. MI-KEE-LEH! Not Mi-chele! Lucia I'm gonna kill you after this!"
"At least yours is only a girl's name in English, the short forms you give my name are girls' names in both English and Italian. Tch."
"Eh really? But Luce sounds nice! And Lucia sounds nice too! Luciano is so long! Lu-cha-no! Three syllables, Luce!"
"Mi-Keh-Leh is also three syllables, Michele."
"….Oh yeah."
"And you can memorize fighting styles in less than a minute but you can't memorize three syllables. Brilliant."
"T-That's different! Anyway I can't just drop it after so long -"
"….Tsk. Do whatever you want."
"..Eh? Aww really? Thanks Lucia!"
"No problem, Michelle."
"…"
Shizuo was getting a little annoyed. The calling of girls' names between the two men who were clearly close reminded him of the flea who called him 'Shizu-chan'.
After all these years, he still didn't understand why the flea had to add a feminine suffix to his name. No, he couldn't even call him 'Shizuo-chan'. At least then Shizuo could have pretended Izaya was calling him a kid. But the damn flea just had to say "Shizu-chan". As if his name was Shizuka instead of Shizuo.
"….Tch! Oi, are we gonna fight or not?!"
Shizuo said impatiently, the thought of the flea calling him Shizu-chan and him still not knowing why bringing annoyance to his mind.
"My apologies, bartender-san."
"Shizuo."
"Eh?"
"My name's Shizuo. Heiwajima Shizuo."
"Hei-wai? Hei-wa? Hei-wa-ja-ma? No that's not right, Hei….woji- argh I can't pronounce it at all! Why is your name so long?!"
"Tsk….That's my family name, Mikilo. My name's Shizuo."
"But Japanese address by family name out of respect." Luciano stated. He smiled. "Right, Heiwajima-san. Let's begin battle."
"Tch. Yeah –"
It was only because of his sharp instincts that Shizuo's hand dropped the cigarette and automatically raised barely in the nick of time to block the blade from slashing across his eyes.
"Oi Lucia! Go easy on him, he's not even our target!"
Luciano didn't reply. The look in his eyes was as if he had switched to battle mode. He leapt back before Shizuo's fist could hit his face, wielding his 9 inch switchblade stiletto in his hand.
"You have fast reflexes, Heiwajima-san."
A long sword dagger came into his other hand from his sleeve. The ambidextrous man crossed his blades, then seemed to disappear.
Shizuo had no weapon, so he brought his arms up to block the fast slashes at his body. He would have grabbed the man and thrown him, had he not been so fast Shizuo couldn't follow him with his eyes.
"Tch!"
The blond leapt back, glaring. Had his body not been as indestructible as it was, he would have suffered much more than cuts all over his arms.
He was annoyed. Very. Very Annoyed. He hated guys he couldn't catch and throw, like the flea.
And this man was like the flea and not like the flea at the same time – he was faster than the flea but his attack style was very different from the flea's.
Izaya leapt and dodged and annoyed him with that taunting smirk. When the coward fought, he would fight cautiously, going in for an effective strike before leaping out of the way just before he got hit. He seemed to time Shizuo's hits – or at least have some sort of instinct about Shizuo's movements, and so far it was impossible for Shizuo to get a good, solid, clean hit on him. And he would always laugh and smirk like he was enjoying it all.
But this guy was silent. And fast. How could Shizuo fight an opponent he couldn't even see? His strength would be of no use if he couldn't get hold of his opponent.
- Guess they're called assassins for a reason.
The sardonic thought floated through Shizuo's head.
But he hadn't gained his reputation for nothing, and he tried to tell this to the other blond who was suddenly in view.
"….You. Luchani. Even though you remind me of the fucking flea, you're not a bad guy. So, this is my last warning. Stop before you get seriously hurt. Go home and tell your Boss you failed your mission."
"Can't do that, Heiwajima-san. I'd still like to live."
"….."
Shizuo was silent for a while. He could feel not only the other blond looking at him but the black haired guy too, and his stare was making him feel annoyed.
"Then I won't hold back."
The blond's voice was low and warning. Luciano had the brief thought that the man in a bartender suit was actually kinder than his reputation made him out to be.
If it were him, he wouldn't have said anything. He would have just killed the man.
He only gave a single warning after all.
"Same here, Heiwajima-san."
He wasn't surprised when the man dodged the blade aimed at his face. But he was surprised when instead of trying to attack him like so many had done, the man stared as if he could see him, then closed his eyes.
"….?!"
Luciano stared for a bit, but when the man didn't move, he continued attacking the man, slashing at him with his knives –
But suddenly the man in a bartender suit seemed able to dodge. A few slashes still hit him but he moved his body as if to some unknown rhythm only he could hear, a rhythm that just happened to correspond with the execution of his unavoidable attacks.
- He can sense me.
- He can't see me, but he can sense me.
- This guy….he really isn't ordinary.
As he had these thoughts, his mind was distracted and he let his guard down –
BANG
Pain burst out in his stomach and then his back as his body was sent crashing against the hard metal of a lamppost.
"…YOU!"
"Luciano you alright?"
"…..Fine."
Luciano said calmly as he got up, wincing only slightly at the pain.
"His fist is like iron."
Michele said nothing. The dark haired male had a gun in his hand, and the other male realized he had fired it as soon as Shizuo's fist had hit him.
- Good old Michele.
"Now bartender suit-san, don't forget about me."
Shizuo's hand had gone to his bleeding shoulder, but otherwise he showed no sign of being affected by the gunshot.
"Tsk. Gun."
The man in a bartender suit who had been likened to a gun by the headless rider said, giving a scoff.
"Let's just get this over with."
BANG –
Or at least, that was what the sound should have been, but there was no sound and Michele realized he couldn't pull the trigger.
"?!"
As soon as the realization hit him, his face was grabbed and felt like it was being crushed as his eyes met a pair of feral eyes –
- Shit.
But his other hand was free and soon a knife slashed across Shizuo's neck, making the blond loosen his hold. The black haired man took the opportunity to jump back, his left hand releasing the gun who had its barrel bent.
He was about to pull out another gun but a boom sounded, and smoke from a grenade filled the air around Shizuo.
A bitter grin crossed Michele's lips as he watched the blond assassin dart into the smoke, heading towards their opponent who had had a chilling look in his eyes -
- So that's the Monster of Ikebukuro.
-If we don't aim to kill him, we'll be the ones who'll end up dead.
- I guess the two of us are needed after all.
...
...
Shizuo was trapped in smoke.
One moment he had grabbed hold of the gunman's face, and the next the guy had slashed a knife across his neck and then suddenly smoke was all he could see.
- Fucking assassins.
At the same time, Shizuo was receiving slashes all over his body as if the smoke itself could damage his body.
He hated violence, and the assassins were better guys than the flea, nicer even, but they were beginning to piss him off.
Especially as he was also now receiving gunshots from a silent gun.
Using his instincts, Shizuo dodged the next gunshots as he tried to see through the smoke –
And promptly got slashed horizontally across his eyes.
Or he would have, had he not been wearing his sunglasses.
As it was, the knife hit his sunglasses, flinging them far away –
"…!"
The monster's hand reached out to grab hold of human skin. And though he couldn't see, he could hear the cracking of bones, and a short, pained gasp.
CRACK
His other hand reached out to grab hold of the invisible man's neck, but a sizzling sensation in his hand distracted him and the man tore his broken wrist away and was suddenly gone.
Shizuo could no longer feel his presence. He walked calmly forward, and as the smoke dissipated, reached out his hands towards something heavy and lifted it off the ground.
Creak
When the smoke cleared completely, the man in a bartender suit was standing and despite the bleeding wounds all over his body, holding a bench in his hands.
He used the bench to block the gunshots aimed at him as he proceeded forward towards the assassins, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously.
The bench soon left his hands, but they had been anticipating it and dodged the heavy wood that landed on the ground with a crash.
Michele barely dodged the fist that came swinging at him as the blond man was suddenly in his face again. He shot his silenced gun at the man, hitting easily at such close range but not seeming to deal much damage.
- He really is indestructible.
His gun was knocked out of his hand, and he wished he had brought his shotgun. Switching to close combat mode, the black haired man ducked before Shizuo could grab his neck and strangle him, aiming a kick at Shizuo's chin.
Shizuo's other hand grabbed his leg but Michele had been anticipating it. He executed a roundhouse kick, impacting Shizuo's chest and at the same time springing off with the force from his feet and blackflipping away.
After seeing what the monster of Ikebukuro had done to Luciano's arm, Michele smartly chose not to block his attacks, merely dodge them and counter them with his own as his blue eyes silently assessed for a glitch he could create in the system.
Every fighter had a system. A system made up of combat moves, particular ways of movements and timing of defence. Every system was different, but every system could be broken. Consciously or not, every fighter followed their system when they fought, and that was Michele's job – to exploit that faithful following to the system. To identify patterns and uncover weaknesses, glitches.
When he created enough glitches, the system would eventually break down. And that was when he would strike the death blow.
Though with this indestructible man, he would be lucky if he could strike a fatal blow.
Aware of the systems others possessed, Michele did not have his own personal system. He had no particular fighting style, he used a variety of fighting styles, depending on the situation. He could switch his fighting style in the middle of battle to confuse his opponent.
And the style his opponent was using –
Which currently he was attempting to deconstruct –
Was one he could not identify.
There were some moves that seemed to belong to boxing, and some from professional wrestling, a few from martial arts and some which seemed completely random and did not belong to any form of fighting at all.
- This guy….
It was only because of Michele's experience with identifying fighting styles and breaking systems that he managed to not get hit so far.
At this point, he dodged the fist that made the air rush past his face and blow against his hair, and sprung back, landing on his feet and staring with wary eyes at the man in a bartender suit.
For the man who had gained a reputation of being omniscient almost like a God in battle had arrived at a stunning conclusion about the man known as The God of Destruction.
- It's dangerous to go near him
- He has no fighting style.
This was why the man in a bartender suit had managed to defeat the Killing Monster and the Killing Machine whom Michele admired, with a park bench alone.
He did not rely on fighting style.
He relied on violence.
And violence alone.
Coupled with his superhuman strength, he was indeed the personification of violence.
But Michele did not know this, even as he was almost hit by the fist that came swinging at his face.
- There's no System to break.
- ….How does he fight?
- Don't tell me….he uses his instincts alone?
It was a shock to Michele. The man in a bartender suit seemed to have no real trained fighting skill – but his instincts were so good and coupled with his strength, he made a more than worthy opponent to any who dared cross him.
Had he not been who he was, his omniscience giving him the title of The God of Battle, Michele would have had all his bones broken by now by The God of Destruction.
For Shizuo had aimed at all the delicate parts of his body's joints. The most vulnerable points of a human body. The pressure points.
- He's not a martial artist, so how does he know where the pressure points are?
- He seems to be randomly swinging and yet it's as if he's aiming to hit my pressure points.
- ….Are his instincts that good?
- If so, this man…..
- Is terrifying.
Michele had hit him several times, a few blows even landing close to the man's pressure points, but the man in a bartender suit remained undamaged. If anything, the hits only made him angrier – especially as he couldn't seem to land a hit on the black haired man.
"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING STOP DODGING ALREADY AND LET ME HIT YOU ARGHHHHH?!"
"Maybe I will, if you stop aiming for my pressure points! That's fucking scary, bartender suit-san!"
"HAH? PRESSURE WHAT? THE FUCK IS THAT, UGH YOU'RE WORSE THAN THE FLEA! NO THE FLEA WILL BE THE WORST BECAUSE HE MAKES ME USE THE VIOLENCE I HATE BUT YOU'RE PISSING ME OFF!"
"You hate violence? Is that supposed to be some joke, bartender suit-san?! You're being very violent right now! Haha what are you, an angel with a shotgun?"
- I have a feeling if I get hit the impact will be worse than a shotgun….!
- ….Shit, going to this extent to protect the information broker...
- Still, rather than an angel with a shotgun, it's like that man himself is a shotgun
- ...And here I thought it would be an easy job!
Michele thought frantically as he avoided Shizuo's violent attacks, sweat trailing down his face.
"HAH?! THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING, I AIN'T NO ANGEL! NOW SHUT UP AND LET ME HIT YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"
At this moment, a ballistic knife came flying, and Shizuo jerked his head back, the tip of the knife scraping against his chin.
"YOU BASTARD! STILL HAVEN'T HAD ENOUGH, EH?!"
"I'm not that easy to defeat, Heiwajima-san."
Luciano said with a slight smile, but the look in his eyes was serious.
He knew not to interfere when Michele was in close combat, but from the looks of it, Michele had failed.
For the first time.
- If my speed and Michele's gunshots have no effect on him, and Michele can't break his system –
- Is it possible….that there's no way to defeat him?
- And it's not only his strength – it's the way he fights;
- His instincts are superhuman, just like his strength
- Then….how is it Orihara Izaya whom Heiwajima Shizuo calls the flea…..
- How is it he's still alive?
- How can he survive being this man's enemy?
- He looks nowhere as strong as him.
- Though Heiwajima-san isn't exactly muscular either….
"….YOU REALLY HAVE A DEATH WISH, DON'T YOU?!"
As if the flying knife had reminded him he had no weapon in hand, Shizuo dashed with surprising speed to the nearest public property.
The assassins stared as the man in a bartender suit tore the signpost off the ground with one hand –
"Luce."
"Yeah."
The signpost was thrown like a projectile, swooshing past their faces.
And then a vending machine came next – at least that was what Luciano thought the big rectangle in the air with drinks staring in his face was –
And it was indeed a vending machine as it crashed to the ground behind him and Luciano moved to avoid the dangerous glass pieces scattered through the air.
"No wonder the labels on vending machines warn they can cause serious injury or death!"
Luciano was in too much shock to even smile.
CRASH
"Damn it, I should have brought my shotgun!"
"I don't think even your shotgun could damage him."
"Oh man, what do we do?!"
"Survive."
Luciano said, not knowing public property could be so dangerous –
That they could be used as weapons.
- No wonder the Boss told us to stay far away from him.
- This guy is insane.
As if using public property as weapons wasn't enough, Shizuo was now at a tree, his hands around the tree trunk –
"D-Don't tell me….!"
Luciano wasn't sure what sound a tree made as it was being uprooted, but whatever sound it was, he was hearing it now.
The sight was so surreal and impossible that even if he had been able to damage the man in a bartender suit, his feet were rooted to the ground as the tree had its roots torn out from the ground, and he was too stunned to move.
It was as if he had exchanged places with the tree.
It was as if his brain had short circuited at the lack of logic and pure insanity happening before him, and his motor functions were malfunctioning.
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Luciano?!"
Luciano wanted to reply, but his vocal cords were malfunctioning as well.
"I'd take that as a yes! HOLY -"
First a bench, and now the man in a bartender suit was holding a tree above his head.
Luciano and Michele shared a quick glance that spelled 'Oh Shit'.
And then the tree was in the air, and they were running to the middle to avoid being crushed by the huge tree, the branches barely scraping their suits and tearing off pieces of cloth.
But Luciano realized too late.
The tree had been a mere decoy.
For as they barely escaped the tree, there was something familiar looking emerging from the dust which shrouded their vision.
Something was swinging at him.
He only realized it was the lamppost that had been innocently standing by providing light for their fight, when it hit him and it felt like his ribs and several bones had been broken -
"GOOOOOO AWAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
That was the last thing the assassins heard as they flew past the stars in the night sky.
"FLEA IS MINE!"
Shizuo bellowed after the human shooting stars as he gripped the lamppost like a baseball bat –
"TO KILL!"
...
It was only when a few moments passed in silence that the man in a bartender suit returned to his senses. He blinked, then scoffed and let the lamppost crash to the ground, digging in his pocket for a cigarette.
"How troublesome. I wasted so much time!"
The blond man said to himself in frustration as he lighted his cigarette. He put it to his lips and inhaled, calming himself down with the smoke in his system.
"….Tch! It's all that stupid, careless flea's fault! Pissing off some Mafia Boss….greedy bastard can't even stick to Japan's underworld can he?"
"And – I HATE VIOLENCE! I REALLY HATE VIOLENCE AND BECAUSE OF THAT FUCKING FLEA, I HAD TO USE IT! HE'S NOT EVEN HERE AND HE FUCKING MADE ME USE THE VIOLENCE I HATE! ARGHHH I AM GOING TO KILL HIM! KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL!
Shizuo yelled to the night air as he walked away from the fallen tree and lampost. His eyes roamed their gaze, and stopped.
He walked over, and picked up the miraculously undamaged sunglasses from the ground. He turned it over in his hand to be sure there really was no damage, then hooked them onto his bartender shirt.
"….Good thing it's not broken."
Shizuo sighed in relief. Puffing on his cigarette, he strolled along the desolated area, as if he had not just sent two assassins flying through the sky to who knows where.
"Where to go now – well home of course –"
He paused. He was reminded at that moment that he had broken the information broker of Shinjuku's door.
"….Well it's not like I care. And it's not as if anyone will – there aren't any more assassins right?"
"…."
"…ARGHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!"
An owl in a nearby tree hooted in fright and flew off into the night, but Shizuo didn't know this. He was busy pacing around the ground, gritting his teeth and crushing the cigarette he had tossed onto the ground.
"NOW I'M CONFUSED! WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I DO?! THE FLEA REALLY SCREWS EVERYTHING UP – I'M GONNA KILL HIM OVER AND OVERRRRRRRR!"
Any night time insects that had been brave enough to linger around during the destructive fight had by now fled at the Monster of Ikebukuro's roar in Shinjuku.
Apparently Shinjuku wasn't as safe a place as they had thought.
"Um Sir, can you be quiet please –"
"HAH?!"
"EEEEEK! NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL!"
The unfortunate passerby who had been walking along the area screamed in fright and fled once he saw blond hair and a bartender suit, wondering why the Monster of Ikebukuro was in Shinjuku.
Seeing a human fleeing, a black cat followed the human's example, turning and running away from the dangerous presence.
Once both animals and humans had fled from him, Shizuo seemed to calm down. He stopped abruptly, inhaling slowly, and spoke to himself –
"Argh I am so PISSED OFF - BUT it would be a fucking waste if I just leave that bastard alone, who knows what shit he's got himself mixed up into."
Shizuo stomped onto the ground in frustration, producing a crack in asphalt. He exhaled, then walked heavily forward, some of his steps heavy stomps that left a series of uneven cracks in the ground behind him, as if a minor earthquake had rocked the ground.
"Tch! That bastard better be safe. Or I'd have wasted my time for nothing -"
Suddenly he stopped. The atmosphere around him seemed to become more dangerous, as a feral grin crossed his lips.
"Actually, I can just kill him! Since I'm in Shinjuku already. Then I wouldn't have to worry about any other bastard killing him!"
Shizuo was proud of himself for coming up with such a fantastic idea. As he walked, he felt like grinning all the way to the flea's apartment in Shinjuku, until an image flashed in his mind.
An image of a sleeping flea.
In front of his face.
CLANG
A second lamppost in the area fell to the ground by Shizuo's strength. His hair covering his eyes, Shizuo yelled to the night air –
"ARGHHHHH I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM THEN! I SHOULD HAVE –"
"….But I couldn't. Because he didn't look like the flea and all and -!"
"He….took care of me. Sort of. I was the one who caused him trouble this time – even though it was him who pissed me off in the first place!"
Shizuo turned his face away to hide his embarrassment even though there was no one to see him. He withdrew his fist, clenched it then moved forward, brushing his hair away from his eyes in annoyance, muttering to himself as he headed towards the apartment of the information broker of Shinjuku.
"Anyway I can't kill a guy in his sleep. ….Even if it's the shitty flea...right."
"…..ARGHHHHHHHH! THAT BASTARD REALLY DOES SCREW EVERYTHING UPPPPPPPP! SHOULD I KILL HIM OR NOOOOOOOT?!"
Needless to say, the dilemma would continue until the man in a bartender suit reached the information broker's apartment in Shinjuku.
…
…
…
Current time, an apartment in Shinjuku
..
..
Shizuo sighed in frustration as he held the flea who seemed to snuggle into him.
"…."
He wasn't a heartless bastard like Izaya and didn't have the heart to kill the flea after the flea's unconscious confession.
Or leave the lonely man.
He owed the flea anyway. And it would be hypocritical for him as a debt collector to not repay his debt.
Sort of.
Just for today.
Or tomorrow. Whatever.
Was it past midnight? He hadn't checked the time.
Anyway, neither was he a man who would kill another man in his sleep.
He wasn't a coward like the flea.
Silence reigned in the bedroom, leaving the man in a bartender suit alone with the sleeping information broker who was still alive, and his conflicting feelings and thoughts.
Shizuo wasn't a liar like Izaya, so he would admit to himself it was nice to hold someone close, even if it was the flea.
And it was nice to have someone want to be close to him, Ikebukuro's Monster –
Regardless of the person's gender -
And even if it was the flea.
Who suddenly didn't seem like an annoying insect but a normal human.
"….You really screw everything up, don't you?"
For once, the flea didn't answer him with his shitty words, but with his soft breathing.
"….."
Shizuo scoffed, growling the next words under his breath -
"I'm going to kill Simon tomorrow."
…
…
Somewhere in Tokyo
…
…
"Luciano?"
"Y….Yeah?"
"You alright?"
"I'll….survive."
"Oh. Hey at least we weren't separated. He was kind enough to send us flying together!"
Silence.
"….And well he did send us a warning."
"I see the origin for the saying, 'A flea disturbs a lion more than a lion can ever disturb a flea'."
"Yeah. Still, I'm curious why that lion is at the flea's place…."
"Guess today isn't our lucky day."
"Night you mean."
Another bout of silence.
"…My dearest Luci?"
"What? And don't call me that. I'm in great pain and am in no mood. And my pride isn't faring any better."
"Right. Mine isn't either. Lucia."
"Do you want to die?"
"OH no, now that I know how painful almost dying is, I don't think I want to die."
"….It was a rhetorical question, Mich."
"Oops. Anyway….what's the ambulance number for Japan again?"
"…."
"Ow!"
"Idiot."
"Oh hey you're quite close after all, good 'cause I don't think I can even crawl…."
"Whatever."
"….Well?"
"….I don't know either."
"….We're both idiots. Dead idiots. We are soooooo dead."
"Well how would I know the man in a bartender suit would be there?!"
"Chill Luce, I didn't know either. Well we'll just call Boss!"
"….Do you want to die? And I mean it literally this time."
"Hey you have a better idea? If we don't, we really are going to die! And I still don't want to die!"
"…."
Silence, then weak, gurgled chuckling.
"Looks like we're gonna join Boss in the hospital."
"He is going to be so mad."
"Haha yeah! We might as well bleed to death here."
"Let's hope we don't land in the same room as him."
The chuckles of one man turned nervous.
"Hey….Luciano?"
"….What is it?"
"Don't kill me….but I think my phone just ran out of battery."
"I won't kill you….because I left my phone back at the hotel."
"…"
"Born in the first hours of light, Died in the last hours of night."
"Oi oi Luciano, now you're starting to worry me! And I'm in no state to worry! What the hell's with that?"
"My name. Luciano – Born in the first hours of light. Haha! Fitting, isn't it? It rhymes in English."
"Alright now I'm really worried. Snap out of it man! This is no time for your stupid poems!"
"It's not stupid. It's original. Born in the First Hours of Light, Died in the Last Hours of Night. If only I could have that engraved on my gravestone – hey. Michele darling, would you -"
"Michele darling?! Say that again and I might just faint dead away! And it's Mi-Kee-Lee, you just called me a girl's name again, didn't you?!"
"But Michelle sounds prettier –"
"Shut up, you're hysterical! And I doubt I'll survive to get your stupid poem engraved on your gravestone. Actually if we die here would we even have gravestones?! Tch! There's got to be something –"
Vrooooooooom
"-Something?"
"Something indeed."
The darkness was lit up by a light. It came from a black motorbike. Both men watched as a figure, with a yellow helmet that reflected off the light, descended from the motorbike.
It made its way towards them, then held up a PDA.
[You two….you're foreigners aren't you?]
"How do you know?"
[I saw two people flying in the air from Shinjuku to Ikebukuro. Are you those two?]
"Wow….we're in Ikebukuro? We sure flew far."
The figure dressed in all black with a yellow helmet seemed to shake its head, before it flashed its PDA again.
[You pissed off the man in a bartender suit, didn't you?]
"….Yeah we did."
"Hey Luce what's the guy saying? Who is he anyway?"
"Guy on a black motorbike. Rumored to be headless."
"The Headless Rider?!"
"Yeah he asked if we pissed off the man in a bartender suit."
"…Yeah we sure did. But how does he know?"
"I guess because he often sends people flying through the air."
Luciano said blandly in his native language to his clueless companion who could not read the Hiragana and Kanji on the PDA. He spoke to the figure with a yellow helmet in polite Japanese.
"Sorry, but would you mind helping us get medical attention? We're bleeding quite badly I think."
[…I can take you to a doctor I know. Usually I wouldn't help those who pissed Shizuo off, but you two are foreigners. You couldn't have known any better.]
Luciano didn't say anything, there was no need to tell the truth when a lie could save their lives.
"Yeah we didn't know bartender suits were so dangerous in Tokyo. We did hear rumors, but we heard he was in Ikebukuro, not Shinjuku."
The figure seemed to start a little, before its helmet nodded and it flashed another message.
[True….circumstances were different today, you couldn't have known. Alright, I will help you two. Get on.]
The rider rumoured to be headless gestured, getting on the motorbike. The two men forced themselves up from the bloody ground and walked in as stable a manner as they could.
"At least I know my spine isn't broken."
Michele commented in relief and Luciano couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Though I think everything else is broken."
"Stop talking, you're wasting what could be your last breaths."
"So are you."
Even rolling his eyes would cause pain, so Luciano resisted the urge. They got onto the motorbike, and Michele spoke.
"Hey uh, rider-san. Thanks. You're a nice guy."
[It's no problem]
The figure in black replied after a while, then typed another message –
[Just don't piss off the man in a bartender suit again. If you value your lives]
"He says to not piss off the man in a bartender suit."
"Ah. Yeah. We know that now."
"You have my appreciation as well. Thank you very much."
Luciano bowed his head towards the headless rider, who gave him a nod in return, then turned forward.
Screeeeeeeech
"Hey Luciano?"
Michele spoke as if he had a sudden epiphany.
"Yeah?"
Michele adjusted his hat which had miraculously remained on his head, then spoke.
"I just realized…..the world is a big place."
"….Yeah it sure is."
"I'm never going to underestimate bartender suits again."
"…Hm."
"I thought I was strong enough. But after all, there's always someone stronger than you. So I'm gonna get stronger so there'll be less people stronger than me."
"You're not the only one."
The black vehicle zoomed through the night, bearing the two renowned Italian Mafia assassins who had gotten the brunt of the clandestine danger in Tokyo.