All In The Name Of Cement Shoes – Talk Is Cheap
Once upon a time, there was a man who loved life and everything that came with it. He took the good with the bad and always tried to make the best out of both circumstances. This man kept quite the company as moved up in the world but only one stayed true to their friendship. The friend was like the sun – it didn't matter if you had a bad day, you would always know that in the morning they would be there. The friend followed the man into territory that they both knew would be dangerous to their mind and quite possibly, their wallets. But the friend continued to support the man in every decision he made.
Time passed and the man became more and more elaborate with his money. Exquisite champagne was served next to the finest foods as a buffet of trashed money was shown to the public. The friend said nothing for the man was not accustomed to the delights of the rich and famous. The man fell in love with a woman the friend did not trust. Her lips were painted with the color of deception and when she smiled, it reeked of the bitter foulness that cried out 'liar'. The friend tried to reason with the man but he would not listen. So, the friend said nothing.
The company that the man and his friend worked for became one of the top corporations in the country. The devilish woman crowded the man and demanded that she either be made partner in the company or she would take her love with her out the door. This action angered a close compatriot within the business and although he couldn't use the same love as the woman as an ultimatum, he did use something equally powerful. He walked out of the door with a few high name clients and his talent. The man was livid and set out to find the compatriot that betrayed his trust in the ferocious storm that had blown in that evening. Again, the friend said nothing and followed him to the car.
The car had flipped seven times down the rocky hill, sending the man into flight through his windshield. The friend remained trapped within the twisted metal, his legs pinned by a shard of angry steel. Somehow, through the mangled mess of the wreck, the friend could smell the smoke of the car burning before he ever saw any flames. They crawled towards him like frightening demon, baring their heated fangs and whispering promises of a painful death. The friend tried to break free of his trap but it was too late – his clothes became enflamed and he could feel the searing burns cover his body. The friend tried to say something but nothing came out.
Ambulances came upon the scene just in time and covered the friend to extinguish his body. The man could only look on with horror written in his eyes. It would a long time before he would have the courage to talk to his friend again.
After many months of therapy and skin grafting surgeries, the friend was allowed back into society. But society is very narcissistic and refused to look at the friend with anything less than disgust. So the friend hid his face from society and consoled the man who had indeed been led on by the horrible woman and received a 'Dear John' letter while in the hospital. The man needed him, now, more than ever. It was not his time to speak.
For a long time after that, the man became cold with hatred and contempt for those around him. Granted, he still cared for his friend and the people closest to him but women were now mere puppets for his pleasure and nothing else. He refused to let another woman blind him to the point where he would make irrational decisions and let his friends fall because of them. It went on like this for many years and the man finally decided that he needed to get married to conceal a business agreement gone awry. The friend chose not say anything until he met a mousy little thing that came busting into everyone's lives. Somehow, she put the man at ease and now the flamboyant creature was at the mercy of a couple of low grade thugs. It was time for the friend to say something…
Hannya was never good with words for people usually hid from him when they saw his mask hiding his scars. So he spent many hours in the gym and trained alongside a skilled martial artist and as brought down his fist to meet with the thug's faces, he knew that there was no turning back from his decision. He should've said something to them first, calmly talk them out of the situation until the girl's safety was a sure thing. They easily went down with a couple of forceful blows, leaving the trunk wide open. No…Hannya was never good with words. But these days, talk is cheap.
Misao continued to swing the metal flashlight in every which way, expecting some kind of impact. She had played the scene over and over in her head and it always ended the same – with her beating two grown men twice her size. But you couldn't tell that by looking at her. She squeezed her shut, refusing to look at her intended targets and swung the flashlight with all her might. When she didn't feel any bone crunching hits, she finally opened one eye.
Standing in front of her was the mysteriously tragic Hannya, his artistic mask staring at her in what she could only decipher as mild amusement. It wasn't every day that a woman went batting for criminals. Misao sighed and tossed the flashlight back in the trunk. He could've at least said something instead of watching her like that. But her anger subsided as she realized that this man just saved her from an imminent death and she couldn't help but fling her petite form into his body for a lethal hug.
"You said you weren't going to help me anymore!" She felt the man stiffen before relaxing within her grip. She smiled at that until his full amount of weight fell against her. "Um…Hannya? Hannya...I can't…" She tried to steady both of them on her two small feet but instead fell to the cement in a heap of muscle and hair. It wasn't until she spotted the man standing above them with a club in his hand that she realized they were in more trouble than originally planned.
The engine roared to life as Aoshi and Sano raced down the highway. The former criminal had counted five police vehicles just itching to chase after them but he knew that it only took a quick scan of the license plate to know that the infamous Aoshi Shinomori was the reckless driver. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that half of the police force was on the icy figure's payroll. But between the grey splash of the road passing by and the alarming pace they were driving at, Sano could feel his lunch creeping up his throat.
"Could you…um…slow down a bit?" The stoic man beside him answered with a shift in gears and pressed down on the gas pedal. Sano retaliated by depositing his late afternoon meal down the side of the car.
For some impossible reason, Misao had thought that having one's feet planted into a tub of wet cement was a little unorthodox. These men had encountered many gun fights and rowdy encounters and escaped death numerous times. Why couldn't they just shoot her? She didn't help the situation any by blurting out the question.
"If we shoot you, there's a chance you could survive and then you would go and tell all your police friends that you saw our face. And I can't have that." Misao looked on in stunned silence.
"So you cement my feet? That's so stupid! In the time it takes for this crap to dry, you could've already shot me! Or at least have cut off an ear or a toe or something." Hannya groaned at the complaint.
"Misao, perhaps you should just let the men do their job." The wedding planner gasped at the man's request. It had been awhile but the episode of Grey's Anatomy still lingered in her brain. A man had fallen into some cement and she knew very well what happened when the mixture dried against human skin. It was horrible! So in a desperate act of bravery, Misao would lift her feet out of the wet stuff every time a man's back was turned.
"Why are you doing this anyway?" The men explained that their boss was angered by his daughter's sudden disappearance and the marriage proposed between Aoshi and Misao. Her jaw dropped as she listened. It was ridiculous! She could only imagine what he did if a waiter got his order wrong. He would probably send the guy's finger to the manager alongside a fish, noting that he was now sleeping with the fishes. A tear escaped her eye as she realized she would be doing the same soon.