As time wore on, Emmalyn's days were beginning to alter radically. It had been nearly a month since her last visit home. "Mom, I promise, I'll be there." She hastily assured, rushing to get off the phone all the while she was weaving through heavy traffic. "It's just that we haven't seen you and I feel that something is going on." Her mother whined. "No, nothing is going on." Emmalyn boldly lied through her teeth. She had yet to allow her parents in on her part-time job. Emmalyn was drawn to the lifestyle, despite merely helping with odd technical aspects, money flooded into her bank account. The freedom and fast pace soothed her soul. This could very well be the key to her proverbial cage.
Just as she ended the conversation, her Phoenix came to a stop in the driveway of Maero's house. Alyssa and Matt were already inside. Emmalyn trundled from her car, dragging her bag behind her with keys in hand. The door flew open before she was able to arrive. "Thank God!" Alyssa screamed, her voice echoing. Emmalyn squeezed her friend, "I'm assuming its pure hell." she mumbled and Alyssa nodded her head wildly. By this time, Alyssa was three months pregnant and already was she unable to fit any of her clothing. "Please don't suffocate the kid Alyssa." Emmalyn mocked as she passed Matt, who was now laughing in terrible fits. "You too! Jesus, let's just pick on ol' Alyssa!" she roared, her hormones were soaring. Emmalyn had placed her bag near the door of the spare bedroom, "It's not like that now woman, but you just make it dead easy is all." She smirked and walked back to the living room.
Alyssa threw up a vulgar hand gesture. "Awww, come on now! Don't take it so harshly!" Emmalyn pleaded falsely, pouting. "Have a little fun. Isn't that what you were always telling me?" Alyssa sat on the couch, her feet crossed over one another. "There's a clear difference. You shouldn't have fun at the expense of my misery." She pouted and looked as if she was actually going to cry. Matt rushed over to her, "Babe, we're just messin' around, please don't cry." He comforted, kissing her on the forehead. Alyssa calmed a bit, easing into the couch. Emmalyn was struggling to discontinue her laughter. She did, however, feel a tad empathetic for her best friend.
"Emma, get your little ass over here." The low voice grumbled from the back door. "What do you want?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow. Maero stood in the doorway, "Come here." She rolled her eyes, with her hands in pocket and ambled to his location. "Maero, it's freezing so this had best be important." She complained, her chin trembling at the first of crisp evening air. Maero grabbed a silver piece of metal from its compartment, handing it to her. "Here, things may get nasty. You'll need it." He stated. Despite the Vice 9's lightweight appearance, it certainly was not. "I hope you know I've never held a gun nor shot one in my life." She said anxiously. "Well, aim and pray to God you hit your target." Maero noted, moving past her to go back inside. He had his arm on her shoulder, moving her inside.
The warm, weakening sensation came over her once more. This would constantly happen whenever she was within incredibly close proximity of the man. He led her to an untouched den; they both sat on the large, snug black sofa. Emmalyn chucked off her shoes, lying across the couch, merely a few inches from Maero, who had his arms spread across the back. "Come here." He gruffly commanded, motioned her to come closer. She bit her bottom lip, concealing the fire growing within. "Tomorrow, I set up a meeting with Shogo over at the docks. I don't think it'll get nasty, assuming that Dean Roscoe, leader of the 3rd Street Saints, already has Shogo's gang on lock. You don't want to walk in vulnerable though."
She bobbed her head and allowed the words to sink in. "I have one question in all of this." She blurted, catching Maero off guard. "Why did you ask me off all people to do this? You have lieutenants for that, right?" He rubbed his chin; Emmalyn could smell his natural scent. "It may sound bizarre; you're worth more than you know. You alone have the ability to nip gang quarrels in the bud or be the means for an all out battle to the death." He replied. "Satisfied with that answer?" Emmalyn glowered at Maero and opened her mouth. "You'll see soon enough. I have a good feeling about you though." He interjected.
"That makes me feel so much better." She teased, glaring at him. Maero moved in closer and their faces were inches apart. "You're welcome." He said, kissing her on the forehead. Emmalyn was immobile, watching him get off the couch and leave the den. "Be ready in the morning, lieutenant." He saluted, winking at her. She stared at the threshold, "What the fuck just happened? Is that fucker toying with me?"She pondered and jumped from the couch. She emerged into the living room. Alyssa was now in a chipper mood. Matt was bewildered by his girlfriend's change of attitude.
The crisp chilly afternoon air had yet to match the atmosphere in Maero's Atlasbreaker. It was tense, anxiety palpitating. The only noise was Opeth playing on the radio. Once the truck came to a complete stop, Maero and Emmalyn hopped out, they could see Shogo and Jyunichi near the edge of the dock. The stench of sea salt wacked her nostrils, it had been ages since her last journey to the docks. The last being when her father took both her and Eliza for a fishing trip.
The Vice 9 was concealed in her back holster, her hands brushed over it. Shogo and Jyunichi nodded in acknowledgement of Emmalyn and Maero. Both Jyunichi and Shogo were of Japanese descent. Shogo made it obviously that his hair was first priority. Jyunichi was bald, his head slick clean and slightly shorter than Maero, his own tattooed muscles peeking from his black and yellow vest and a sword sitting on his back. Shogo was leaner and shorter than both men.
"It's been quite some time now." Shogo greeted awkwardly. Although he was the leader of the American branch of the Ronin, Shogo was clearly inept. "I see you've gotten a new lieutenant." He stated smugly, in reference to the brutal murder of Maero's last top lieutenant and girlfriend, Jessica Hartlow. "Let's make this short and simple," Emmalyn cut in, she despised Shogo, "stop initiating push backs and trying to take territory or the Brotherhood is going to wipe you from the map. End of story." All three men were amazed by her blunt words. "Someone's gotten her big girl panties, huh?" Shogo teased, Emmalyn shot him a filthy glance, shutting him up instantly.
"We'll be happy to oblige. Quite frankly, I don't know why we continue to have this issue." Jyunichi stated, attempting to quiet the oncoming slaughter between the two, but also shooting Shogo a jarring appearance. Maero and Jyunichi nodded at one another, he gently nudged for Shogo to start walking. Emmalyn glared vehemently at Shogo, it was taking much strength for her not to punch him. "Explain to me why he's the leader, when it's clear that Jyunichi is far more competent?" Emmalyn quizzed Maero as they were strolling back to his Atlasbreaker. "You ought to know," Maero answered, taking a brief silence, "He's Kazuo's son."
"You don't have to be an asshole, because you know that fact alone has never stopped Kazuo from dismissing his son's position before." Emmalyn quipped. As they inched nearer the gargantuan vehicle, Emmalyn's attention was captured by a yellow and white Wakazashi – the classic Ronin car. It wasn't as much as the car that caught her attention, by one of the compatriots sitting in the backseat. The woman was sporting a chocolate brown bob, her worn hazel eyes could be seen through the darkly tinted windows. Her small lips were pursed tightly, as if she'd just been given a dose of medicine. The two women locked eyes, gazing at one another intensely before Jyunichi and Shogo arrived at the car, speeding off.
"Yo, are you planning on walking back to the warehouse?" Maero boomed and distracting Emmalyn from her trance. She climbed into the Atlasbreaker, still looking intently in the car's direction. "You saw Eliza, didn't you?" Maero asked his eyes still on the road. "What?" Emmalyn responded, seemingly confused. He chuckled silently, "I'm not stupid. I know exactly who you are. Hell, everyone in Stilwater knows who are you, believe it if you want." He replied, glimpsing at her. Emmalyn's face contorted, she was oddly not shocked by this news.
"But, how did you know that's who I was looking at?" Emmalyn retaliated, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Instinct." He said shortly. "Do you…know what's she's been up?" she asked shyly, her heart beating quickly. "Causing all sorts of havoc." He answered.
Nearly three years from Eliza's turbulent departure and unintended pregnancy, things had yet to calm down. Soon after the birth of her first son, the older the child became, rumors spread wildly that the boy was in fact Jyunichi's. A year down the road, she became pregnant with another child, this time a daughter and once more, the hushed rumors of Jyunichi being the father sprang to life. All the while, Shogo cared for them as his own children. Soon, after the birth of the second child, Shogo caught wind and demanded a DNA test, which proved what all and sundry believed – both children were Jyunichi's.
In many cases, Eliza would have been dismissed from the Ronin, cut off completely. Unlike most cases, she was fortunate. The running gag within the Ronin was Shogo's obsessive goal to please and win his father's, Akuji Kazuo's, affection, something which was enormously dispensed upon Jyunichi, his crown lieutenant. Kazuo refusing to dismiss Eliza or the children she bore was the catalyst for the impending rift in the American branch of the Ronin. Emmalyn was the key in helping them tumble.