"Dragging me down,
I try to keep myself from sinking.
Without a sound, I scream in silence,
I stop all breathing.
You fight for it and live for it, then it lets you down,
Fight for life and it's all I see.
Fight for life until it's through with me…" – Fight For Life, Soil
Jazzy: I sincerely do not have words to explain the reason for this chappie's lateness. A mixture of school, drawing during my little free time, vacation, and awesome videogames prevented me from doing the writing I should have been doing. Know this, however: I will not stop this ficcie until it is complete. You have my word. Oh, and I own nothing.
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The Difference Between Love and Loathing – Chapter Twelve: Battle
(With Saito and Misao in downtown Tokyo, March 26, 2005…9:53 p.m.)
The odds had certainly turned against him, yet Saito showed no immediate signs of faltering. To Misao, the cop appeared almost like a wraith in the nearly pitch-blackness of the alleyway as he easily fought off a group – since the first guy apparently had buddies with him – of five men. Watching the fight like a hawk and silently cheering him on, the weasel hesitantly reached for her fallen purse, being extra careful to avoid alerting any of the others of her presence. With a whispered, "Damn, I hope it's in here…", she hurriedly unzipped the small bag and reached inside, hand scrabbling frantically for the cell phone she prayed was there.
Said hand met a plastic tube of lipstick, a compact containing her favorite azure-blue eye shadow, a wad of crumpled tissues, and an empty packet of gum before her fingers managed to close over the familiar shape of her phone. She pulled it out triumphantly, flipped it open, and was nearly done dialing the last number for 911 before she saw the words, "OUT OF SERVICE" written like a curse upon the top-left corner of the tiny screen.
Misao angrily threw the useless thing back into her purse and proceeded to tear her hair out in frustration. Relying on Saito seemed to be the only way out of her current predicament. She would just have to trust in his fighting prowess.
She sighed.
I'm so dead.
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Stopping for a second to catch his breath, Saito pushed his sopping wet hair away from his eyes and smirked wolfishly at his opponents, mentally laughing at the terrified looks on their faces. He had long since tossed his jacket to the side (as he couldn't have it impeding his movement), and was completely soaked through from top to bottom by the never-ending torrent of rain. But he could neither feel the water nor the cold, for the taste of battle had caused his blood to heat up past the point of caring.
"Scared?" His smirk widened as his opponents shook their heads wildly. "No? Heh. Bakas. You really should be," the cop reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. "You're lucky I don't have my badge on me. I'd throw each and every one of your asses straight into jail without batting an eyelash."
One of the boys made a small exclamation and took a step backwards. "Wh-what? Hold on, this guy's a cop? Hisoki, you never said anything about cops when you made us do this with you!" he piped up, nervously wringing his hands. "I-I want out! I'm leaving!"
"Why, you little--! You can't back out on me, now!"
"I-I'm going, too! There's no way I'm going to jail, Hisoki!"
"Teraku, as soon as we get home, I'll--"
Saito shook his head and languidly lit his cigarette. He tuned out the sounds of arguing in the background and waited for it to die down before he began his piece. "SHUT. UP," chucking at the sudden silence and languorously leaning back against the damp concrete wall, the wolf stated, voice dripping with sarcasm, "You're all going to jail anyway, morons. Through your own stupidity, I now know all of your names."
The one named Hisoki stared at Saito incredulously, but couldn't manage to hide his fear. His shirt was sticky with sweat and clung to his back like a second-skin. "Wh-what? Prove it!"
Saito straightened, and pointed to each boy in turn, "Hisoki. Teraku. Juro. Keiji. And, last but not least, Taku."
Horrified, they started to back away from the cop, demeanors not unlike terrified rabbits ready to bolt from a hungry predator – namely, a wolf.
"Running won't work, either. I've seen your faces; I know exactly what you look like. I can find you just like that," he snapped a finger. "So? What are you going to do? You're running out of options, and the clock is ticking…"
Damn, he loved his job.
He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and inwardly chuckled. Some idiots were just too predictable.
Clearly expecting the sudden attack, Saito swiftly dodged a powerful, yet obviously unskilled uppercut, wrapped a hand around the offending arm, and twisted it until he heard a groan of pain.
"Now, now, that wasn't very nice," he declared condescendingly. Ruthlessly, he suddenly spun the petrified boy around and shoved him head-first into the opposite wall, hard enough to knock him unconscious. Keiji groaned, staggered backwards, and dropped limply to the wet cement. "Well. One down, four to go." The cop turned to the remaining boys, and blew a cloud of slate-grey smoke into the damp air. He grinned. "Honestly, one would think you would have the sense to attack me all at once, instead of foolishly going at it alone, like that idiot."
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Misao bit down on her fist to keep from crying out. She immediately stopped trying to move her ankle and patiently waited for the pain to die down. Rainwater lethargically dripped down the back of her neck, but she paid it no heed.
"--instead of foolishly going at it alone, like that idiot."
At the sound of pounding feet, the weasel looked up, stunned, and just a little (very little, mind you) bit worried to see the remaining four guys ganging up on the lone wolf, looking ready to commit murder even with the knowledge of the man being a cop.
She wasn't concerned for long, however, for Saito appeared to be a much better fighter than she had originally given him credit for.
Blue-green eyes, glued firmly to the form of the detective, widened in awe.
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Saito wiped away a smear of blood from his cut lip and smirked, reveling in the thrill of the fight. He swiftly blocked a kick to the side of his head and lunged forward with a punch to Hisoki's startled face, smirking predatorily when it connected with his opponent's jaw. With a strangled yelp of pain, the man dropped the knife that was clenched in his fist and staggered backwards, cupping his now bleeding mouth. He glared and retreated into the shadows of the alleyway.
The detective suddenly whirled around and unleashed a spinning hook-kick to midsection of the one who dared to sneak up behind him. Teraku sunk to his knees, clutched his injured stomach, and gasped for air. Saito stepped back into a stance with his right arm straight out in front of him and his left firmly at his side. He sneered. "Next? Come now, bakas, you're just wasting my time. I was hoping for a little challenge, at least."
Juro and Taku, the only two remaining, looked to each other uncertainly. They knew that if they ran, they'd eventually be caught. But if they fought with the police officer, they would surely lose just as fast as the other three. None of them had had any martial arts training whatsoever, while it was clear that the amber-eyed man was a master in at least one of them. Turning themselves in seemed to be the most logical choice.
Juro, however, wasn't the logical type. He gritted his teeth, rolled up his sleeves, and suddenly charged at the waiting wolf, fully believing that he could take him down if he could only get one hit in.
Thus, he never saw the attack coming until it was too late.
With a sickening crunch, he ran straight into the detective's patented strike, a move he had affectionately dubbed Gatotsu, and fell to the cold, hard cement, groaning softly. Saito stepped back from Juro's unmoving form, took a drag from his cigarette, and turned his eyes to his remaining opponent.
Taku, now utterly alone, whimpered and slumped to the ground, more frightened than he'd ever been in his life. "I-I give up, just…don't hurt me, please…"
The wolf snorted and rolled his eyes. "Hn, pathetic. What a worthless fight. I might as well –"
"KYAAAAAAAAH!"
Saito turned, startled at the sound of a high-pitched feminine yell.
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Misao screamed as large, heavy hands fell across her throat from behind, successfully choking off her air. She struggled against the bruising hold, desperate to break herself free. With instincts spawned from her years taking ninjitsu, she thrust her elbow backwards towards what she hoped was the groin area, and smiled when she heard a masculine grunt followed by a string of curses. The grip loosened. She attacked.
"TAKE THIS, YOU JERK! KYAAAAAAAAH!" Spinning slightly on her good ankle to gain leverage from her sitting position, Misao angrily grabbed at her attacker's flailing wrist, fiercely twisted it backwards, and flung the stunned man over her shoulder, where he landed chest-first against the wet ground with an ear-piercing crash.
Adrenaline was pumping like fire through her veins; her heart beat furiously in her chest. Breathing hard, she wrapped her arms around herself and wiped sopping-wet bangs from her forehead. Grimacing, she looked up towards the wolf. Anger flared in the pit of her stomach when she noticed that he seemed to be chuckling at her.
"And what, pray tell, is so funny, huh? I coulda died, ya' know!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Saito didn't seem to notice, however. Either that, or he just didn't care. "I sincerely doubt that this –" he carelessly nudged Hisoki's form with his foot, "could have killed you, weasel. You certainly appear to be capable of handling yourself." Amusement colored his tone.
She scowled. "Oh, feh! Some bodyguard you are! Just arrest these bastards and help me up already, you jerk."
Gray smoke permeated the air as he took another drag from his cigarette. "I cannot arrest them myself, weasel. I'll take you home first and then contact Okita to come and get them." He glanced back at the sobbing figure that was the boy named Taku, frowned, and strolled over to Misao.
"Why can't you arrest them?" She didn't bother asking who Okita was. The detective probably wouldn't tell her, anyway.
"Because when I was assigned to you, Kondo took away my badge. I am, after all, on 'vacation'."
Misao thought she heard a tiny bit of underlying annoyance in his voice, but wisely refused to say anything about it. She was, however, barely able to hide a wince when he started to lift her from the ground. "Ack, be careful. I think I might have sprained my ankle," she bit down harshly on her bottom lip to keep herself from yelping. "I-I think I can walk, though, but not without help."
Saito slowly set her back on her feet, allowing her to lean her full weight against his side so she wouldn't topple back to the cement. "Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow.
She screwed her eyes shut and fisted his shirt, taking slow, even breaths to ride out the pain. Nodding slightly, she managed, "Y-yeah, positive."
"Well, if you're certain," once again returning his gaze to Taku, he stated, "Boy, I'll trust you'll still be here when the police arrive." His voice was cold, holding absolutely no sympathy for the pathetic creature he was addressing.
Taku was nearly hysterical at this point. The detective was positively terrifying. "Y-yes, yes, of course I will. Heh heh, why wouldn't I? Absolutely."
Eyes narrowing, Saito growled slightly at the boy's babbling. "If you aren't, believe me when I say that I will know, and I will find you. Now, weasel, let me see if I can get you out of here, hmm?"
Misao glared at him. "Gee, don't sound so excited, wolf. And don't you dare forget my bags! And this time, you'll hafta carry them! So nyaah!" She petulantly stuck her tongue out at him.
He sighed. "Hn. Joy."
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Jazzy: (Screaming) Gah, the POV switch and the shortness proves how tired I am. I'm so sorry that this chappie was so horribly pathetic. I'm even sorrier for the constant POV switching! And...the fight scene...the horrible fight scene...(Sigh) I hope that you stay with me, for next chappie'll be much better, I can assure you! Well, until next time (a shorter next time), loyal reviewers, this is Jasmine Reinier, signing off!
"People only have hope…because they cannot see Death standing behind them."