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Clenching his hands into fists so tight his nails were digging into the palms of his hands, Shinichi glared defiantly at Gin as the man moved ever closer, waiting as patiently as any predator for his victim to get into place. Gin's shark-like smile widened, amused by the spark of fight still in his eyes, Shinichi presumed. Shinichi stared him dead in the eyes, wide and insane, but he didn't feel fear.
All he felt was the need to get out of this alive coursing through his veins like wildfire. His mind was racing, thoughts spinning by so fast he couldn't even identify them. One after another they tumbled mindlessly over each other, vying for attention.
In the end it was pure instinct that drove him to lash out at the right moment, just as Gin took one more step. The precise, well practiced kick sent the man's gun spinning off into a dark corner of the room, and Shinichi was pretty sure he heard bones snapping. A smirk decorated his face, even though he knew it wasn't over with yet.
Still, it was a small victory.
With a snarl of rage Gin lunged forward, too quickly and too close for Shinichi to get out of the way, and grabbed him by the throat. The air rushed out of Shinichi's lungs as his back hit the windows behind him. His hands came up automatically, scrabbling against Gin's hand as it pressed into his trachea, intent on cutting off his air supply completely. Time seemed to seep to a near stop, like grains of sand through an hour glass. It only took a matter of minutes to render him nearly unconscious as the black void reached up to grab him.
Before he slipped off completely, however, Gin released him, turning away as a slight sound from outside the room distracted him. Shinichi slumped to the floor, trying to get his oxygen deprived brain back in order.
Gin picked up Shinichi's fallen gun and stepped toward the door, obviously deciding Shinichi was no longer a threat for the moment.