Chapter 5: Yakuza

The group silently entered the Nihon bar, taking a moment to look around at their surroundings. Rin scanned the walls, finding the door the lead to the back room within seconds. While she had thought they were going to attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible, Misaki moved forward with a purpose, drawing a few stares along the way. His entire aura seemed to radiate heat, and Rin could sense that he was still a little irritated from their last argument.

Kamamoto shadowed him, surveying through his tinted sunglasses the number of patrons in the room and looking for anything or anyone suspicious. Shouhei followed in his wake with his hands thrust in his pockets, looking completely at ease.

Rin brought up the rear. If it weren't for the dried blood that caked her arm and stained her shirt she doubted she would have captured so much attention. She shook her hair forward so that it cast half of her face in shadow. Misaki might not care, but Rin wasn't too thrilled at the thought of anyone recognizing her.

The bartender seemed to sense something a little out of place with their group, and began to hurry towards them before they could reach the entrance of the back room.

"N-no, sir, you cannot-"

Misaki swung his bat out and pointed it at the frightened old man, the metal tip glinting inches from the his chin.

"Stay out of this."

The man froze instantly, only giving a slight nod of his head to show that he understood. Slowly, he began backing away until there was enough distance for him to turn and hurry back to his patrons.

Satisfied, Misaki shoved the door open with his shoulder and strode down the narrow corridor without a backwards glance. Voices could be heard from a small break room up the hall, and Rin could see the grip on his bat tighten. Kamamoto's back stiffened the closer they got, while Shouhei cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

Adrenaline began to course through Rin's body, and she gave herself a slight shake to limber up. She was acutely aware of the raised voices of the Yakuza gang members now directly in front of her behind the partially closed door.

Without warning, Misaki swung the door up until it banged against the wall with a loud thud. Peering under his extended arm, Rin could see five men seated at a small, rickety table. Their tattoos were just noticeable along the collars of their shirts, the ink creating a stark contrast with their pale skin. Various stacks of papers and money were spread around them, along with a case of beer and two guns in plain sight. Each of them seemed to be frozen in shock for a moment, but recovered quickly enough, reaching for their guns immediately.

A smirk crept onto the auburn haired commander's face, "Yo," Misaki's voice seemed to ring with a hint of laughter at the sight in front of him. Flames sparked at his sneakers and crawled quickly up his torso. "I hear you've been asking about HOMRA."

The break room, which had looked tidy enough up until ten minutes ago, was in shambles. Such a small space was not ideal for fighting, particularly if you were not a servant of the Red King. Within minutes the Yakuza members had been overwhelmed, but that hadn't stopped Misaki from making sure they were good and bloodied before he declared their work was finished.

HOMRA's commander stood in the middle of the cramped room, breathing heavily through his nose as he surveyed the destruction they caused. His eyes glinted with satisfaction at the sight in front of him.

The table had been the first to go, splintered and broken from where Misaki's bat had slammed into it. Shards of wood had flown in every direction, and now littered the break room. The single light that had dangled above the table had been the next to go, leaving them with only the dim light spilling from the doorway to light the room. The papers and stacks of money had scattered like confetti. Chairs had been overturned and broken, and three bullet holes decorated the walls above them – the only three they had managed to shoot before their weapons had been confiscated.

The Yakuza members lay immobile in every corner of the room, bruised and beaten. Their clothes were singed so badly in some places that it simply crumbled to ash at the slightest of movements.

Rin leaned against the wall opposite of her Homura comrades, her hands on her knees at she took a few steadying breaths. Her blonde hair hung like a curtain around her face, shielding her wild eyes from the other three. The sound of the gunshots still rang in her ears, and she gritted her teeth to block out the memories that threatened to rise up inside her. It had been almost a year now since she had heard that sound, and she was ashamed that it still managed to cause her such panic. Instead, she tried to focus on what was in front of her feet: a man, still groaning in pain from her handiwork.

Shouhei took his baseball cap off and ran a hand through his hair, shaking off a few droplets of sweat. He glanced down disdainfully at one of the gang members who had slid down the wall and was leaning against his right leg.

"Tch," he grumbled, shaking his leg so the man slumped to the floor. "Oi, Yata-san. What should we do next?"

Misaki glanced back at him over his shoulder, a slightly manic glint still in his eyes. "Mm? Burn it all, but…" his voice lowered thoughtfully. "Leave them."

Kamamoto stepped forward in surprised. "Eh? Yata-san, wh-"

"Leave them," he said harshly. "Nothing more without Mr. Mikoto's approval."

Rin could hear Kamamoto's grumbling from across the room, but Misaki either ignored it or was just as frustrated at leaving these lowlifes as much as Kamamoto was.

One of the men moaned from one of the corners, and Misaki's lip curled back in disgust. "Burn it, then let's go."

Flames rose up around her three comrades as they set to work burning all of the Yakuza's papers and money without a second thought. As flames began to lick Rin's own arms and legs, a glint of metal around the man's neck near her feet caught her eye. She bent forward, letting the flickering, red flames illuminate his chest.

At first glance it looked to be some sort of circular locket, but as she bent closer she could see that it was as flat as a medallion. There was some sort of markings on it that she couldn't quite make out…

She looked back at the other three, making sure they were distracted. She watched as flames flared up along the walls and on the table, creating a small bonfire. The heat in the small room was becoming more intense, which she ignored, but the flickering flames were helping to shed some light on the engraving as she leaned closer.

Suddenly, her hand snaked out and latched onto the man's shirt collar, hoisting him up until he dangled, unconsciously, inches from her face. Her eyes had widened into that panicked state they had been in moments ago, and she stared wordlessly at the design that was carved into the silver coin.

It was painfully familiar.

"Where," Her voice came out in a harsh whisper, her jaw clenched tightly. "Did you get this?"

His head lolled sideways as she shook him hard. Heat seemed to roll off her in waves, hot enough to catch Shouhei's attention.

"Oi, Tachibana-san?" He called, confused.

Rin never heard him. Her eyes were locked on the man – no, the engraving – in front of her. Her voice was low and deadly. "I asked you a question. Where did you get this?"

Fire ignited in her fist, and slowly her flames began to singe and eat away the cotton t-shirt the man was wearing. The heat and burns caused him to jerk into consciousness, and he began to writhe and shriek in pain.

"Tachibana-san!"

Rin had caught the others' attention by now as well, all of whom stood unsurely at the opposite end of the room. Shouhei seemed to be at a loss for what to do, and it was Misaki who stepped forward.

"Oi, Rin-chan!" He said sharply, cutting through her alarmed state.

Her head jerked up at the more familiar name. Her eyes cleared, and for a moment she looked confused at their expressions. She glanced back at the man she still had tightly gripped in front of her, watching as the flames slowly singed away at his clothes and skin. Her eyes clouded over for a moment when her gaze trailed down to where the necklace hung against his collarbone. With her free hand, she ripped the chain from his neck and pocketed it, then dropped the injured man carelessly on the floor.

Then, she straightened, and, as her comrades stared at her as if she had grown a second head, she stalked out of the door without another word.

Author's Note: Holy cow, thanks for all the love! You guys are the best! I wish I was better at drawing anime so I could draw little snippets of scenes from each chapter, but alas, I am not that talented Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. Sorry it's a little bit shorter. Let me know your thoughts! I have my ideas for the next chapter written, so hopefully I'll have Chapter 6 up soon.