Chapter Six

Lain to Rest

Haru was the first of the girls to wake, stretching her arms over her head and yawning with surprising grace as the morning sunlight entered the room through the blinds. She did what she could to tame her floofy hair with just her fingers and stepped outside the room to stretch her legs without waking her friends. There was a balcony at the end of the hall, and she craved some fresh air in her lungs and soft morning sun on her face. With a slight dainty jaunt to her step, she made her way to the balcony, though was surprised to see Ryuji was already leaning against the railing having a smoke as he looked out over the traditionally scenic back of the hotel property.

"Good morning," she greeted him with a smile as warm as the sunrise's oranges and yellows.

Ryuji turned around to see her, offering a much more tired smile. "Oh, hey, Haru. Mornin'."

"Had any trouble sleeping?" she joined him to lean against the railing.

"Nah, not really," he took a puff of his cigarette. "Only been up for a few minutes, and I thought it might be nice to start the day with a smoke somewhere that doesn't already smell like, well, the cigarette."

Haru chuckled. "I'm sure it's quite the privilege for a big city yakuza like you."

"Honestly, it kind of is," Ryuji nodded. "This place is really pretty, and so quiet compared to the city. I know the location and landscape are supposed to give off that vibe, but still, it's nice."

"Indeed. And just because it was placed here purposefully doesn't invalidate its natural beauty. Look at all the flowers and vegetables growing in the gardens," she pointed to rows of plants toward the back of the property. "Those gardens have been cultivated to be as synchronous with the landscape as possible, not taking any excess resources or space. Whoever did the design for it knew that they already had something beautiful here and only wanted to add to it rather than replace it."

Ryuji smiled, feeling quite impressed with her eloquent appraisal. "You into landscaping or something?"

"Gardening, mostly. It's one of my passions, and I've spent a long time studying how to make my gardens as healthy for their environment as possible while still making them as productive and visually appealing as they can be. It's a tough balancing act, but it makes everything better."

Ryuji nodded. "Sounds like a hell of a talent," he looked back to the garden. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I wouldn't have really expected that from the Big Bang Burger heiress."

Haru chuckled again, her laugh sounding almost impossibly cute in her high-pitched voice. "Did you expect me to be some sheltered princess who's never touched dirt before? Or an office boss in the making?"

Ryuji laughed awkwardly. "Both, I guess. No offense though. I think it's cool that you have a green thumb."

Haru became slightly more serious in her demeanor. "I never was a fan of offices and board meetings. I've been part of plenty because of my father, and I was sure to not actually say that I disliked it in front of him. But my mother was always more encouraging of me doing, well, whatever I felt passionate about really. I always loved dancing since I was very young, and I picked up gardening in my early teens, though I guess a bit more as a coping mechanism than anything at first."

"What for?"

Haru sighed, watching a flock of birds flying off into the lightening blue sky on the cool breeze. "My life was decided for me the moment my father found I my mother was pregnant. Sure, I was always given everything material that I ever wanted, but I was pushed into the best schools, with the best tutors, and the most exposure to the corporate world that my father could reasonably arrange for me at any age. Gardening felt like something for… me. Something I could design and create and grow myself, for myself, by myself. It was like a little world where everything about it was just mine."

"I don't blame ya for wanting that. I couldn't imagine what having your life decided for you is like."

"Is being a yakuza different? I mean, isn't your whole life carrying out your superior's orders?"

"Sure, the job is. But when I'm off the clock, I can do what I want, where I want, however I want. I have connections to almost every redlight establishment in Kamurocho and can get connections to about any other across Tokyo. When it's just me and the boys out for a night on the town," Ryuji looked off to the distance almost wistfully, "we feel like kings."

Haru looked away from him. "I envy that a bit."

"I'd say you can have that if you want, but I bet it's a little more complicated than that."

"Much more," she nodded. "But… thank you, by the way."

"For what? Talking to you?"

"That, yes. But also for… saving my life."

"O-oh," Ryuji nodded quickly. "Uh, yeah. I-it's nothing. No need to thank me," he smiled awkwardly to her.

Haru looked back at him puzzled. "I'd hardly call saving me from violent captors by chasing them on the highway 'nothing'."

"No, no! That's not what I meant. I mean that you don't need to feel like you, like, owe me anything, you know? It's, uh, all in a day's work," he smirked, and Haru laughed jovially.

"Saving heiresses in high-speed chases is 'all in a day's work'? Wow, being a yakuza must really be like the movies!"

"That's not what I meant either!" Ryuji laughed this time, and they shared an even heartier laugh. "I just meant that… you're stuck in a really shitty situation, and I was able to help in the moment back then, so I did. Could've been really dangerous, actually. I wouldn't have blamed you if you were afraid of me or the whole situation. I mean, you were kidnapped, tossed around in a car, and I had to negotiate for your life at gunpoint." He took another drag of his cigarette. "But I guess you're made of tougher stuff."

"It was terrifying, yes," she admitted. "But I'm here today because of you. God knows what would have happened if Daigo had his way. Me dying in a car crash probably would have been preferable to whatever sick fantasies he had planned for me. But they didn't happen… because you were there."

Their eyes met for a long moment. More birds began chirping in the trees as they were roused for the new day, but Ryuji and Haru seemed not to notice. "You're welcome," Ryuji muttered softly, softer than Haru had ever heard him speak before. She responded only with a nod and a tiny smile in the corner of her mouth, but her eyes were filled with gratitude, nonetheless.

And they stayed on the balcony for a few more minutes in comfortable silence before returning to their rooms as their friends began to wake. They walked closely to each other, though whether it was due to the narrow halls of the hotel, or something else, none could rightly say.

…

The urge to cry was apparent in Anri's face and body language. She remained tense, with tightened shoulders and arms wrapped around her core. It hurt Akira to see his mom like this; she had been so effortlessly and completely strong his whole life, ever an immovable rock amidst the most violent of storms. But now, she seemed a world away in her mind, trapped in some spiral Akira was painfully unable to empathize with.

"Your dad sounds amazing," he finally said quietly. "Wish I could've met him."

Anri nodded slowly. "Me too. I think he would've been great for you – probably would have taught you about your powers much earlier than me."

"Now don't go saying that," Akira chided her, to his surprise, though with evident care in his voice. "You did what you thought was best for me and… Just look. I'm still here, aren't I? We both are."

She nodded again, even slower. "We are."

"We might not be had he not sacrificed himself, you know. And if he loved you as much as you said, I'm sure that's all he was thinking about at the end."

"You're right. I've just… always had a hard time accepting that. I was raised to believe I was a Dragon, Akira. Dragons save those they love."

"And it sounds like that's just what he did."

Anri had no response to that, but instead changed the subject. "We thought it would be unsafe for us to stay while they… cleaned up. So, I left town with your father the next morning. We came here, which was his idea. He'd vacationed with his family here when he was young, and we'd been considering moving here when we got married, which we had to move up quite a bit. We married in secret, with none of my family attending. I couldn't bear to see any of them, not after what happened."

"What about your mom? Or Wakaba?"

"My mom went into hiding, like me. But it was her idea to split up, lay low for a while. That 'while' turned out to be much longer than we expected. Sojiro would have told me if anything happened to her, so I know that she must be okay. I just… couldn't bear to see any of them again. Even Wakaba. Though God, do I wish I had now."

Akira looked out of the cave to the warmly bright morning, and an idea struck him that made him feel the slightest bit better about things. "Sojiro gave me a present before the fighting started," he said. "But now, looking at this place, I think it might be better if we kept it here."

"What did he give you?"

"I can go grab it. It's in the van we took to get here."

"You don't mean…" Anri began to guess, but Akira held up his hand to quiet her.

"Just get some fresh air, Mom," he smiled. "I'll be back in a few."

Without another word, he stepped out and rushed back down the hill to the town, the people now starting to wake up and move about, which Akira was slightly concerned about. He made his way back to the van and opened the trunk with a spare key, taking Hanran out of it and inspecting it quickly for any scratches or other damages. No such thing – it was spotless, as it should be. He held it in hand and made his way back toward the wooded path, completely unaware that Ann had caught a glimpse of him from the window overlooking the inn's parking lot.

She watched him intently, confused as to what he was doing with the sword. Her immediate thought was that there might be some other fight breaking out, but she had heard nothing of it, nor did the guys know where he had run off to or when. She brushed her teeth, her worries for whatever he was doing apparent on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror. But she dashed those thoughts from her mind, assuming he must know what he was doing. The sword was a family heirloom, apparently, so perhaps this was a family matter.

In much quicker time than even Akira had expected, he ascended the hill of flowers toward his mother's secret shrine, Hanran hanging from his side. Anri noticed it immediately, shooting up to her feet from leaning against a tree and joined him at his side, her face alight with astonishment. "Hanran!" she exclaimed. "Did… did Sojiro give this to you?"

"He said he'd been keeping it safe for our family since you left. Kept it in this big case and never took it out until I got there. I unfortunately had to use it immediately, but I was able to save my friends and take down a traitor when I did."

"Did you have to kill him?"

"No, I didn't. I incapacitated him before he could take me down, and he was shipped off to prison with the other traitors. Kuze was starting a coup, it seems."

Anri furrowed her brow in thought. "Of all people," she muttered. "Did you fight him too?"

"Kicked his ass, more like."

Anri could not help but smile. "That's my boy," she said pleasantly. She took the sword from Akira's hand and slowly unsheathed it, taking in every detail. "It's just like I remember," she remarked. "It's like it hasn't been touched."

"We cleaned it off pretty well before coming here. Had to make it look good."

Anri stepped back and swung the sword slowly in front of her, then whirled around and did a brief combination that culminated in a powerful overhead strike. She moved with some stiffness, slight slowness, but the feel of the pommel, the weight of her family's sword, was still perfect in her aged hands. Anri flipped the sword around and sheathed it slowly, then made her way to the shrine, and Akira followed.

She held the sword out horizontally in front of the shrine, then turned it vertical and placed it directly under the photo of Kazuma. Anri held a hand to her chest at the site and sighed mournfully. "I should probably give Sojiro a ring – thank him for this."

"Did you leave it behind because you wanted to… leave it all behind?"

Anri nodded. "I had hoped I'd never have to use it again, that I could truly put it all behind me. But I'm honestly glad to have it here. It's father's sword originally, and I'm pretty sure most warriors are supposed to be buried with their favorite weapon."

"Then I guess it's whole now," Akira said.

Anri stood up straight as if a weight had been lifted from her tired shoulders. "I guess so." Akira could swear that she saw his mother smile for the briefest moment. "Thank you, Akira," she whispered. "This means a lot. Really."

"I'm glad," Akira smiled as well, taking in the sight of the shrine once more. Serene, beautiful, yet powerful, as if the spirit of his grandfather resided within it, still watching over their family. "Anything else I can do for you, Mom?"

Anri shook her head. "Go be with your friends, honey, it's okay," she shooed him with her hand. "I think… I'm going to stay here for a little bit. Maybe take a walk before calling Sojiro. Oh, and check up on Futaba, please. Make sure she's okay after last night."

"I will. Just… glad I could help." They exchanged a final smile, and Akira was on his way.

Anri beamed in thought, looking at the picture of her father. "He always was," she said aloud. "Always glad he could help, however he could. Just like you, Dad. I didn't even have to teach him that; he's always been this way. I wonder if that's part of being a Dragon… It's like we're born with it."

She put two fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to her father's shrine then walked out into the morning air. It had quickly gotten warmer, the sun now shining in a beautiful yellow across the landscape, piercing through the stray white clouds against the blue sky; the town and its backdrop of the late summer sky appeared like a painting from the top of the hill. Anri breathed slowly, as if taking the essence of summer itself into her lungs, and it calmed her addled nerves, eased her tense and tight muscles from sparring with her son. She hugged herself tightly and felt a soothing wave of peace wash over her that she had not felt in so long.

Whatever happened in Kamurocho, whatever Akira went through – none of it was as important as the fact that he was home, alive, and with friends that cared about him and looked after him. And she felt she may finally be accepting that.

…

Every news channel was either talking about theoretical economic downturns in the near future or the massive gang battle that had broken out in Tokyo that weekend. The newscaster droned on and on with impunity, crafting dismal and misguided explanations for what could have prompted the Omi Alliance to attack so brazenly, and futilely. Shaky recordings of yakuza being arrested, or their corpses dragged off the streets, flew across the screen as much as normal television regulations would allow. And Shido found it utterly fascinating, yet not entirely satisfying.

He rubbed his temples, the realization that he did not know how many days it had been since he had had more than a few hours of intermittent sleep in one night making his migraine even worse. With glassy, vacant eyes, he stared into the television and flipped through the different channels, not even entirely remembering why he was doing this. To bask in the glory of his plans coming to fruition perhaps but knowing that this was the easy part made all the coverage he was indirectly getting as a result of his years of effort and planning seem about as coalesced and impactful as white noise. The channels may as well be untuned static to him, the newspapers blank leaflets with unintelligible scribbles.

Shido did not react when the door to his office opened, and in walked Terumi, hooded and mysterious looking as ever.

"Long night, boss?" he asked gracelessly.

"Hmph," Shido grunted in response. "Basically." His voice was low and scratchy.

"Well, unfortunately, this ain't a social call, Shido-san. I got some questions for you if you have a moment."

"A moment indeed, Terumi."

"Ho, if you insist." Terumi took a seat beside Shido, putting his feet up on the footrest in the midst of the sectional couch, and it was now accumulating a thin layer of dirt on its upholstery. "Look, I was just in the neighborhood and figured you might be able to clear some shit up about the war. I don't doubt your plan or any of that, but I wanted to ask you some things… in private."

"Get to it then."

Terumi clicked his tongue at Shido's prickliness. "Well, Shido, main thing I wanted to know was if you know anything about… witchers."

That finally caught Shido's attention. "You and Golgotha's reports mentioned a witcher. You said he informed you that one had found him?"

"Right. I didn't think they existed in this part of the world anymore."

"Because they don't," Shido clarified immediately. "By most accounts, they shouldn't exist at all anymore. But I know better, Terumi. I'm not entirely surprised at this, actually."

"You knew there would be witchers getting involved in this war?"

"I didn't know, but I did know it was a possibility."

"I honestly didn't even think you'd heard of them. Most people don't even know the fucking word."

"I've traveled the world, Terumi. I went to some pretty strange places in my youth."

"You don't just find witchers though, Shido. You don't just stumble upon them like some isolated tribe in bumfuck nowhere Africa. You only find them if you know where to look, or they want you to find them."

"Who says I didn't know where to look?"

"Oh, so you were looking for them?"

Shido took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes exasperatedly. He placed them on the coffee table beside him and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Where did you learn about witchers, Terumi?"

"I was going to ask the same of you."

"You answer first. That's an order from your current employer."

Terumi let down his hood and lounged back in the chair as well. His hair was long, tied back in a ponytail, and black as jet. Shido had only gotten glimpses of his true appearance under the shroud of his hood, and his slender face, thin eyes, and small mouth truly gave him the look of a snake he poised himself as. "I traveled all over as well. Saw some crazy shit, did crazier shit. You hear things through the grapevine when you travel enough. Witchers, sorcerers and sorceresses, and magic are far from the strangest things I've been told about across the world."

"I'm not surprised."

"I've had one run-in with a witcher myself. Didn't even believe it was one of their kind 'till much later. I was hired to serve security on some pompous arms dealer's expedition to investigate some supposedly magical pagan artifacts in Norway about ten years ago. Got a hell of a scenic tour, at least. Then he came along, took out my whole security detail by himself, killed the arms dealer with three strikes, and I barely made it out alive. He probably could guess that I was only there for the money and didn't give a shit about whatever artifact we were hunting."

"Or the men under your command?"

"They were one of the fucking stupidest groups I've ever led. It was a miracle they all didn't fall of the side of the cliffs we were scaling."

"So, no small loss then?"

"Meant I didn't have to pay out any of them from my own accounts, since our benefactor got his head cut clean off by the witcher." He took out a cigarette and took a long, indulgent drag of it.

"What was the witcher like? Did you get a good look at him?"

Terumi shook his head with a smirk. "Heh, no. Even I could barely keep up with something moving that fast, and he was wearing a cloak and hood the whole time, though not nearly as stylish as mine. Looked like he robbed a homeless man for it. But I did get a glimpse of his eyes. Those eyes… I admit, I've wondered ever since what kind of magic can turn a man into something like that."

"So did I. That's why I sought it out."

"Did you find them? Wherever they are?"

Shido smiled to himself in pride. "I did. I never underwent the Trial though – the ritual they use to turn men into witchers. Some thought me too old, others thought me too brash. And some thought me too strong already. But I did learn a lot from them, believe me. Quite a lot. More than I ever could have hoped to learn under my former master."

"Why'd you leave then?"

"I had greater ambitions, and they refused to teach me anything else. They're recluses, traditionalists, closed-minded and still seeing the world through Iron Age paranoia. At least, most of them. The higher up the totem pole you go, the less they truly understand the modern world. And they'd like to keep it that way. I disagreed, so I left to forge my own path. And that led me here."

Terumi chuckled. "So, what's stronger then? A witcher, or a Dragon?"

"That remains to be seen. I can't rightly say."

"But if you had to put money on it…" Terumi prodded him, his serpent-like grin widening in a way most people would find disturbing, unnatural.

Shido thought for a moment about his answer. "If I had to put money on it… I'd probably say the witcher. The Dragons don't understand what they truly are, what they're capable of. Witchers though, even the ancient decaying fools in the Camarilla, they know better than anyone what this world and the people within it can truly produce, and what we can do with that power if we harness it. I wanted just that." Shido held his hand out in front of his face and clenched it into a fist, grasping for something ethereal, far away, with a gaze just as distant. "They denied me it, just like he did." He sighed and let his hand fall to his side. "This world lacks visionaries, Terumi. They hoard power for themselves and exile any who wish to further their own strengths, making both of them stronger. Because that would be less power exclusively for those at the top. I glimpsed the top of the totem pole when I went to the witchers. I saw what humanity is truly capable of. And when I tried to climb it, they struck me down, as my former master did. And that was when my destiny was made clear to me."

"What is it?"

"To destroy the totem pole… with my own hands. To tear it down and burn it to cinders. And those ashes will be the foundation of a new world of vision, of ambition. Where old dynasties struggling to even breathe will fade away, and new heroes will take their place. There will be no more need for witchers, or the Camarilla, or the Sakura Clan and Omi Alliance, or even the Dragons. There will only be those with vision and ambition, and those without.

Terumi laughed heartily. "If you were so set on disrupting their precious order, why did they let you live?"

"I fled faster than they could hunt me. And they underestimated my own strength. Many vampires, sorcerers, and even a few witchers, died at my hand. They did not teach me everything, but I knew enough to survive. But the fact that they have come to intervene in my war is… interesting. Though I hid my tracks well; I'm not sure how they could have found me."

"Maybe they weren't looking for you?" Terumi guessed. "Maybe they were looking for whoever the hell Golgotha is."

Shido sat up straight and stared at the television, though he obviously was not paying attention to the news. "Maybe, Terumi," he muttered slowly. "I wonder what he must have done to piss them off so much."

…

The city of Shimonosuke deemed safe once again, with police presence increased significantly in the areas of highest foot traffic, Akira and his friends had the – perhaps brazen – idea to hit up their favorite hangout spot to blow off some steam over dinner: The Love Shack. The name was evocative to all who were hearing it for the first time, but they were assured it was a savory establishment, just named after the famous song. A Hawaiian themed bar and lounge popular with the younger crowd, and the first big event for many an aspiring live musician.

Akira checked with Futaba before they departed, asking her if she was doing alright as his mother had instructed him, and while she seemed a bit evasive and distant, she assured him she was fine and that it could be fun. He said he was proud of her for doing this, and she responded with a soft smile that said all it needed to. And they were off.

The Love Shack was a cozy little lounge with a large tiki head at the front. Akira had long been a regular at the bar and was aware of the surprised stares he was already getting from patrons who recognized him, but he ignored them and stayed close to his friends. This was an opportunity to unwind, and he was in no mood to answer any more difficult questions than he already had. Like when he was asked where he had been all morning.

To his lessening surprise, Ann had seemed the most concerned, but he assured them that it was, in fact, just a family thing he was working out with his mom, and no harm was done. Save for the apparent bruises on his torso and shoulders, but he explained it as just being a "bit of sparring". This did well to avail their concerns, and they proceeded to spend most of the day getting their things completely unpacked and organized. It was when they started discussing dinner that Chie and Yosuke had the idea to hit The Love Shack, which they all emphatically agreed to.

They pushed together a couple tables to make room for everyone and began chatting amongst themselves, trying to keep their minds off the current issues that plagued their town. Stiff drinks, loaded nachos, and many a smile began to permeate the group. Well, save for Futaba, who was unable to drink. But she did take a particular interest in the spicy queso dip to the point that Akira ordered an additional portion of chips just for her, which she was quite grateful for.

Taking a swig of the margarita he was sharing with his girlfriend Chie, Yosuke exclaimed, "Hey, Akira! Remember when we had our big break up on that stage back in high school?"

"Oh, Jesus," Akira cringed, while also trying not to laugh at the memory.

"Hey, what's that about? We freaking killed it, didn't we?"

"That, uh, would depend on who you ask, I think."

Yukiko giggled, followed by a rather undignified snort, as she was oft to do when particularly amused, or drunk. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Akira! You guys were great! All the girls were swooning over you!"

"You were in a band?" asked Yusuke, sipping from his daiquiri with particular grace becoming lost on most of the other young adults. "What did you play?"

"I didn't actually play, really. I sang."

"And he's great!" Ann added, beaming. "I heard him and Ryuji sing karaoke at Serenity once, and he's amazing! And that was after he'd already been drinking!"

"Ann, please," Akira smiled bashfully, though the compliments and attention were far from unpleasant.

"Oh, shush! You're very talented and you deserve the compliments. You just need to learn to take them."

Kanji added, "If only I hadn't gotten off beat on the drums so many times," he rubbed his head with an awkward smile.

"What are you talking about?" Naoto asked. "You did completely fine."

"You only say that 'cuz you're my girlfriend."

"Simply false," she retorted sharply. "Completely ridiculous, even."

A dumb, pleased grin appeared on his face. "Thanks, sweetheart," and he picked up her hand to kiss it.

"If only your former gang could see you now," Yu joked.

"Piss off, man," Kanji replied with no ill will in his tone.

Akira still seemed to most to not entirely be present in the moment, however. Though no one made any effort to comment on it. He sipped his drink, ate his food, and chimed into the conversation on occasion, though was yet lost in thought for most of the dinner. Ann, who was sitting a couple seats away from him on the other side of the table, kept an eye on him throughout the dinner, even missing a question about her modeling career from Rise at first. Akira did not notice, instead leaning his head on hand and staring off into the distance.

He had been on her mind quite a lot that day, and Ann found herself slightly annoyed at her feelings toward him, though not against them. Annoying and inconvenient, yes, though not detrimental. But even if she was not attracted to him, she would be worried for him all the same. She knew that Kamoshida and the war still haunted Akira, and she what was far more annoying than her own attraction to him was her apparent inability to do much of anything about it, though no one else seemed to be in much more luck either. She wished she could help him forget and move on, cast the memories from his mind. She hoped that day would come soon.

"Hey, Akira," she asked him from across the table. "What was the name of your band, by the way? Did you write any songs we might know?"

Akira's mouth pursed bashfully before he responded. "Oh, well, we didn't get signed to any labels or anything. We just played for fun around town."

"Well, what did you call yourselves?" she pressed him with a smile, which Akira was unable to meet as he looked away, scratching his head.

"… Bad Medicine…"

Ann had been taking a bite of nachos when he replied, which she immediately regretted as the involuntary laughter that sprung out of her caused the chip to get lodged in her throat, prompting a sputtering, coughing laugh as she tried to clear her throat while uncontrollably laughing at the revelation. Everyone began laughing with her in good fun, and Akira's embarrassment quickly abated at the sight, and he laughed himself, though only laughed more heartily when Ann finally cleared her throat and could laugh fully at the situation. Her face brightened as she tried to catch her breath, and Akira felt relief at seeing she was alright.

The group of friends was too lost in their revelry and the sound of the showtunes playing over the speakers to notice the new group of young adults entering the restaurant at first, though Akira took notice after a moment. The group of three young men and five young women wore leather jackets adorned with tribal designs depicting demons and hannya, and seemed to be of an unseemly disposition, immediately getting aggressive with the hostess before she apprehensively showed them to a table. There were not enough chairs at the table for them all to sit, and she quickly went about getting them more as they seemed to grow more demanding and unruly.

"Looks like we got some real characters," Akira remarked as the others noticed the group. "I've never seen them before. Any of you know them?"

"Never seen 'em," said Yosuke, glowering their way. "You don't think they're with the gang, do you? No one local ever comes here with an attitude."

Kanji added, "With coats like that, they gotta be part of some gang. I wouldn't be surprised if they were stragglers from the gang last night."

Chie said, cracking her knuckles, "Then maybe we should let them know that they're not welcome in our favorite hangout. I can't stand jerkwads that get pissy with waitresses."

"We don't know for sure," Yu added, "if they're with the gang though. We shouldn't jump to conclusions quite yet."

"Who else could it be, bro?" asked Yosuke. "Look at them! They're definitely gang members."

"They're almost like some TV-addicted kid's idea of yakuza," said Ryuji venomously. "Makes my blood hot just watching them."

The hostess came back to the hooligans' table with some drinks, not realizing that one of them was trying to slap her on the rear. He missed slightly, hitting her hip, and caused her to spill his beer on him. He did not take this lightly, springing to his feet and shouting obscenities at her. Other waitstaff tried to come to her aid, and a greater verbal spat broke out with the rest of the gang and the waiters. A manager came out to try to break up the scuffle, and a lanky, toned young man who seemed to be their leader rose his hand preparing to slap him for his "dumbassery".

He was about to bring down his hand on the manager when another hand appeared between them out of nowhere: Akira's, who had moved between them so quickly that even his friends barely saw how he did it. "You idiots must have been pre-gaming to have come here already acting like drunken thugs," he glowered at the gang member. "Why don't you take your shit out of town where that kind of thing flies. This place isn't for you."

The leader, sporting bleach blond-died hair and various piercings, was aghast at the sudden appearance of this dark-haired stranger but seemed to take some amusement in it. "And how do you know we're not from around here, huh? I ain't ever seen you around here, bud."

"Just a hunch. No one from my town acts this way. We actually respect the workers around us."

"With this kind of service, your town must be full of dumbasses to respect workers like these," he muttered casually. "Why don't you just leave us alone to our business. It's got nothing to do with you, and if you haven't noticed, it all of us against you."

"I like those odds," Akira raised his head confidently.

"Oh ho, we got a hero over here!" declared the leader. "C'mon, c'mon, what's your name, man?"

"Kurusu Akira."

"Well, I'm Nakaya Joji. Pleasure."

"No, it's not."

"It isn't?"

"Just get lost, asshole. You don't belong here. And besides, it's you eight against… well…" Akira smirked, looking over to the group of extremely angry friends that had come up to their side. "All of us."

Ryuji glanced out the window, and to his surprise, spotted three extremely impressive – and expensive – sport cars parked on the curb by the restaurant. "Those yours, boys?" he asked.

"What's it to you?" asked Joji.

"Well, either you have those rims, mufflers, and paintjobs to compensate for all having embarrassingly tiny cocks, or you just might be a crew of racers. So, which is it, Nakaya?"

Joji glared daggers at Ryuji, who remained completely unphased as he approached him. Joji got in his face, nearly growling as he spoke. "What the fuck did you say? I must not have heard you quite right. Why don't you say that again?"

"I said," Ryuji stated confidently, as if taunting him, "that either you fuckass idiots couldn't dream of pleasing a girl, or guy, once in your entire earthly lives, or you might actually know how to drive a car kitted out like that."

Joji gritted his teeth in growing frustration. "It's the latter, smartass. Yeah, we race. We came to this shithole hearing from some friends that there's some good tracks in the hills, and some backwater pussies that could use a bit of excitement in their lives. So yeah, those are our cars we wanna race with. Why? You a racer too?"

"I'm ten times the racer you'll ever be."

Joji's glare turned to an amused smirk. "That so? You wanna put that to the test?"

"If I got a car, any time."

Joji chuckled. "Look at the balls on this little bitchboy. Oh, you're gonna be a fun one up in the hills."

"And if I beat you, will you leave this city?"

"You want to make it a wager?"

"We all want you out of town. I beat you, you leave."

"And if you don't beat me."

"Oh, that's not gonna happen, pal. Trust me," Ryuji smiled devilishly.

Joji's smile faded to a grimace again. "Two days, the hilltop, dusk, bring your own car. We race to the bottom. And if I win, I take your car, your money, and your bitch, if you got one. Good enough?"

"Say less," Ryuji shrugged.

Joji spat at Ryuji's feet indignantly. "Let's go, guys. We gotta warm up." They started making their way to the exit before Akira called after them.

"Hey! One of your friends happen to be named Sosuke Komaki?"

Joji turned around in confusion, then a revelation seemed to strike him. "I thought your name sounded familiar," he nodded. "I'll be honest, I don't really care about what that guy wants in this town. All I know is he wanted to cause some chaos, and this town's got some good tracks that'll make a lot of noise. But I hope you're ready, Kurusu. 'Cuz he'll be coming for ya. Whatever you did, sounds like it really pissed him the hell off."

"If you see him, tell him to stay away from my friends and family. Or else. He wants to fight me? We can do it the right way."

Joji shook his head. "I don't think he sees it the same way you do, bud. Not you, or that jester freak that's been hanging around."

"Jester?"

Joji looked back to Ryuji with a wave that turned to a middle finger. "See you on at the starting line, hotshot!" And they exited. Ryuji threw him a middle finger as well, grimacing on his own. He turned around to see Haru doing the same.

"And don't come back!" she called after them. She turned up her nose and put her hands on her hips. "Ruffians, the lot of them," she declared. "And the girls weren't even nearly as pretty as us."

"Like, totally," Rise agreed. "They were wearing so much makeup, I bet those guys had to buy at least a couple of them back in the city. And I'm glad you called them out for looking like they're compensating, Ryuji. I was about to say the same. Honestly kind of wish I could have."

"Sorry for stealing your thunder. Just was the first thing that came to mind."

"Well, there's another batch of trouble for us," Makoto said, crossing her arms. "At least we didn't have to actually fight them this time."

"Man, I'm already sick of all this tension," Yosuke said. "How did you guys handle so much of this in Kamurocho?"

Ann replied, "I honestly have no idea."

Ryuji cracked his knuckles again, smirking with excitement. "Well, two days to warm up and take that guy down. I can do that. Just two questions. One: anyone know the hills he was talking about?"

"Uh, yes," said Yukiko. "They're actually not far from my family's inn. People did used to do friendly races up there a few years ago."

"Awesome, the track is covered. Now, just one more question: anyone got a really fast car I can drive?"

A moment of silence followed that question. "You… didn't think about the fact that you don't have a car?" asked Futaba. "You agreed to a race without a car? What? Were you going to run down the track?"

"No, I just wasn't thinking at the time because my pride as a racer was being challenged."

"That's strangely respectable, honestly," said Kanji. "I'd feel the same way."

"Don't validate this," Naoto deadpanned, cringing.

Yu asked, "Well, then what do we do? None of us have cars remotely comparable to the ones they were driving. And no one in town drives anything like that, even back when people would race down those hills."

"I can handle that," Haru chimed in. "Well, probably. I just need to make a phone call when we're back at the room."

"You can what?" asked Ryuji.

"My family has plenty of sport cars. I'll just have one driven here by one of my butlers." Haru sat at the table and took a pen and napkin in hand. "Do you have a preferred manufacturer or specifications, Ryuji?"

"Uh… what? I-I mean, just… anything with decent speed – probably only need around 160 kilometers per hour – and extremely good handling. Strong suspension and body rigidity, decent aerodynamics, preferably with an attached wing, manual shift, and… make her look nice."

Haru finished writing her notes with a pleased nod. "Okay, it should be here by tomorrow afternoon. I'll call them immediately."

"Uh, thanks, Haru…" Ryuji stammered, still struggling to believe this was even real.

"My pleasure," she beamed. "Alright, everyone, sounds like we've got a big couple days ahead of us! What do you say we call it a night and get some rest? Oh, and Miss," she walked to the very confused waitress, handing her a debit card, "please use this to cover my table and this one, and give yourselves a nice tip. Trust me, it won't bounce."

Ryuji leaned next to Akira and muttered, "She's… something, huh?"

"Definitely something."

"Like, really something."

"She is indeed some thing.'

"She's something…"

[Reviews are always welcome. Thank you for all your comments and criticisms.]