Welcome to the promised interlude mes chers lecteurs! 💖 (was that right? I'm currently learning French and I just wanna flex for a min (≧▽≦)) now lemme give a shower of flowers and paper hearts for: midknightmadnessxd, RainyRandom, Einklley, stvrlightt, and Rosedust13 for the warm welcome and marvelous reviews ✿ꕤ✧˖°

So I wasn't actually planning on posting this mini intermission arc as two halves but I've already written around 9k worth of words on Taito's side of the story alone, and I really think it's so much better story-wise if I separate his and Takemichi's POV because I think this chapter is way too much already, so here we are. The next chapter's probably going to be shorter than this but eh, I just wanna update this story as much as I can, whenever I can. I rolled with a lot of headcanons concerning the first-future Toman here too, such as the hideout and who may have stayed to be one of Mikey's closest aides, and I would love to know what you guys think.

A quick caution though: this chapter is packed with graphic violence and I mean very graphic, very violent graphic violence, but nothing too out of place in the TR universe. It is also a very sad, sad time to be a Hanma stan (assuming a Hanma stan is even reading this fic sksks). I am so sorry. I feel like shit for doing this to him to the point I'd let him have his way with me if he were irl, but some of ya'll have been asking to see Mikey's reaction to Reiya's death/assault by Hanma's hands, and, well...I only delivered *cries* keep in mind this is my first time writing someone exhibiting yandere(?) behaviors so I'm not very confident in it, but it sure was a great opportunity to practice! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, in which I reveal that I actually really fucking love guns and Tekken. The shitabaki Mikey wears in here looks exactly like Jin Kazama's in Tekken 5, except the flame design is shorter on one pant leg unlike Jin's where it reaches up to his hip. Jin is my daddy and 'tis my way of paying homage (シ_ _)シ

Can't Help Falling in Love (dark version) by Tommee Profitt feat. Brooke really sets the energy I envisioned for this chapter and I would really really like for you guys to listen to it for a bit. You can look it up or better yet, you can find it on CJ's Official Playlist on Spotify with the link ready on my profile ❤❤❤

For this chappie's tidbits:

※ Entr'acte — a French term that directly translates to "between the acts", meaning a pause that transitions the mood from one part of a large-scale performance to the next by completing the missing links.

※ Shitabaki — traditional trousers worn for martial arts practice as part of a set called a Keikogi.

I'm not very proud of this chapter tbh but let's just think of it as getting from point B to point C.

〖 Chapter Twelve 〗

Entr'acte Symposia
(PART I)

JULY 8, 2017

Taito knew she was gone the moment she kissed him. Reiya's body sank but he was faster than gravity and he snatched her right up before she could hit the floor.

"Holy crap," Taito breathed, his heart and soul throbbing in synchronization to some internal pendulum going haywire as he held Reiya against his chest. He hadn't been entirely convinced it was possible but she did it—his Nee-chan went back to the past for the second time.

He carried her to the bed, carefully maneuvering the IV pole as he brought it with them, anguish thrashing inside the hole between his ribs as he sat closely by the edge. He reached out to touch her hair, her face, and even pinched her dimpled cheek, but Reiya remained unconscious, her breathing undisturbed—figuratively dead to the world that had bled for her sake.

Taito loathed to cry, but as he took one of her lax hands and held it in both of his he found his eyes and throat aching with the unstoppable pressure of tears.

The last five days had been the absolute worst in his life.

And now that Reiya was gone, leaving him once again, he found he could no longer bear the weight he'd carried all this time without suffering any cracks and leakage.

He had been prepared when he joined Toman—had trained for it, studied for it; dyed his hair and had his arm inked for it. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into contrary to what everybody else thought or at least, he thought he did. But seeing his Nee-chan getting stabbed right in front of his eyes was just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg he'd found himself colliding against.

Taito hadn't really been surprised with the phenomenal madness that was Reiya's time-traveling ability. And while his cerebral, elusive Nee-chan finding romance for the first time with Toman's feared commander of all people was so ridiculous it wasn't even funny, Taito took it all in stride in hopes they could get out of this lunacy one way or another. He seriously believed they could, he would make sure of it. And he would've found some amusement in the utter cesspool that was his sister's lovelife if the guy she was so over the moon with didn't return her affections (and Taito had been downright dubious that he had in spite of Reiya's insinuation that he did…)

But then the second day happened, and Taito's grip tightened in remembrance, hard enough to bruise his sleeping sister's hand. Reiya hadn't known and Taito would never tell her, but on that night when she returned to the future after he left saying he'd be back the next day…

He had met Mikey.

It was Mikey's new second-in-command who got to him first, ambushing him in an alley not too far from the hospital. One look at him and Taito instantly knew he was one of Toman's dogs. Maybe even a big one with his stylish silver-gray suit and the quiet arrogance that was oozing through it. In fact, he had an air that reminded Taito a little of Hanma—both of them sporting highlights in their dark hair and deceptive with their laid-back composures, the impassive gleam in their eyes as harmless as a weapon at rest.

But completely unlike Hanma, who was built like a scythe—lithe, heavy-handed; force reliant on size and speed—this man seemed more like a sniper rifle; poised and silently lethal, giving Taito the impression that he'd already be dead if he hadn't seen any reason to spare him. He immediately shifted into combat-mode but the older man merely looked unimpressed.

"I'm not here to fight you, Natsukage Taito."

Taito went rigid in alarm and for a moment he wanted to clap a hand against his forehead. It'd been barely a fucking day but they found and knew all about him already.

"Who—"

"No questions until we get in the car," the older man said, the silver cross dangling from his ear and the strands of silver-lilac in his hair catching light as he turned sideways. "Now follow me. We're already late for…" He glanced at the golden watch on his left wrist. "Twelve minutes. The boss usually wouldn't mind but he's been in the shittiest mood as of late, and it wouldn't be in your best interest to piss him off." He paused before swiping a look at Taito. "Even if you happened to be Yunagi-san's little brother."

Taito's eyes bulged before he could help himself and the man smiled, all-knowing and self-indulgent.

"Ah, right. Maternal half-brother."

Oh that was personal. Taito wanted nothing more than to deck this guy in the face but his better judgment held him in check. He wouldn't win against him first of all (he was exhausted and hungry and way overdue for a bath) and with just a few but tactical choice of words, this man just made it clear of what his purpose was in coming to see him.

Taito didn't trust him, but he wasn't an enemy—for now—and the boss he was talking about…

Wasn't Hanma, nor Kisaki.

"Tch. Fine." Taito followed him out of the alley to a black, heavily-tinted car. He grabbed the bloodied vest he had divested earlier from his shoulder and held it in his hand with bone-crushing pressure. "Just know that if this is a trap and I end up dead in some ditch, the police will be all over your asses."

He shot the older male a slitted glance, having just the thing to rile him in case he actually was one of Hanma or Kisaki's men. "You know I work under Hanma, right? I'm low rank but I know all about the operations he's dealing in. Locations, assets—" a feral smile stretched across Taito's lips, one to hide the tremor in his voice, "—ready to fall on the MPD's lap like a nice little going-away present."

It was a bluff but it wasn't entirely untrue. If Toman knew about him after that stunt he pulled against Hanma, then Naoto should have too. The young inspector would've already unveiled his and Reiya's connection to the gang and would've no doubt been on his tail. Taito was a vital piece in the equation and there's just no way Naoto would let a lead like that go. And should he go through it, then all the data he'd need sat in an encrypted file inside a USB flash drive Taito entrusted to a childhood friend.

The older man laughed. "Ballsy. Yes, we know. But like I said, I'm not here to fight you. Believe it or not you're safe with me, Taito-kun. Or should I say Natsu?"

Taito managed—just barely—from rolling his eyes but he couldn't stop from scoffing when the backseat door was opened for him. He quickly ducked inside, not bothering to thank him as he closed the door and went over the passenger seat. The car was cold and clean but smelled of cigarettes, making the teen frown in distaste. He detected a hint of something warm and tasty somewhere inside too, but it was buried underneath the invisible layers of smoke and expensive leather.

He shrugged on his blood-stained vest, zipping it up to his chin before settling in with both hands in his vest's pockets. His eyes met briefly with the long-haired chauffeur's, who wore a black suit and had a scar over one corner of his mouth giving him a wary look, while the other older male clicked in his seatbelt.

"I'll feel safe if you answer two questions," Taito said as he pressed his back tight against the backrest.

"What is it?"

Taito waited until the car finally moved and they were out cruising along the main highway.

"Who the fuck are you and what the hell does Mikey-san want with me."

The driver's blue eyes flared at him through the rearview mirror. "You better watch your damn mouth—"

"Easy, Hakkai."

"But Ta—"

"He's a guest."

The scarred man grunted and said nothing more while silver-lilac highlights glanced at him with a small smile. "The name's Mitsuya. As for your other question, I thought you figured it out already. You're a smart kid, aren't you?"

Taito glowered back. He did. He just wanted to hear Mitsuya confirm it. "I don't see why," he remarked flatly, clenching his concealed hands. 'I don't see why when Nee-chan almost died because of him.'

The impulse to say it nearly overpowered him but Taito gritted his teeth to keep it in. Mitsuya was no longer looking at him but he knew he didn't miss the hostile implication in his words, and neither did Hakkai, who pinned him with a quick scowl promising murder if he kept pushing his luck.

"I understand why you feel that way," Mitsuya said, sounding completely calm and even a bit amused. Amused at what, Taito didn't know. The guy must have some serious case of skewed humor if he thought something was funny about this whole mess. "But you'll see soon enough. We're almost there."

Taito stiffened against the car seat. All the petulant snark he'd mustered to show he wouldn't be cowed drained away at the thought of meeting Mikey. What he'd heard about him from the others and what he'd heard firsthand from his sister clashed with surreal extremes. He was the legendary Invincible Mikey, but he was also Reiya's one-night lover, who apparently went through extra lengths to hide who he really was just so he could be with her.

But he could be lying. All the sweetness and gentleness he showed could've been a ploy to have her perform for his entertainment—an act to prey on a grieving woman's vulnerability all because he was bored. Taito wouldn't put it past Mikey regardless of how much his Nee-chan portrayed him as a good guy for looking after her when she was helpless. He was still a criminal at the end of the day and she was so damned naïve in her inexperience.

Taito didn't even want anything to do with Toman anymore now that he knew the truth behind Reiya's sudden change but for her sake, he would find out what Mikey wanted with him—with the two of them—and endure. In any case, it wasn't like he was in any real danger in meeting their oh so mysterious leader, and part of him actually looked forward to seeing him in the flesh.

"Are you afraid?" Mitsuya asked.

The question was so unprovoked Taito raised a brow at him in unveiled skepticism. It was a completely valid question, however, and he was about to respond when his stomach—which had actually been growling for a while now—released a loudass hunger fart.

Taito shrunk in his seat, head sinking low while his shoulders went up, his mouth obscured behind his vest's high neck collar as he stewed in mortified irritation. To his credit, Mitsuya didn't laugh and Hakkai appeared to not give a shit, like he wouldn't even blink if Taito starved to death.

Taito shut his eyes. He wanted to get out of here already. Suddenly he heard something rustling and a delicious homely scent wafted everywhere inside the car. He opened his eyes in suspicion and saw Mitsuya offering him a take-out packet, his expression completely neutral.

"Here. Fill up before you meet with the boss."

Taito begrudgingly took it. He could tell it was one of many inside a thermal bag (why Mitsuya had a whole bunch inside a thermal bag was beyond him, but he wasn't about to ask), so what was the harm? He was starving and he didn't want the same thing to happen in front of Mikey.

Taito opened the packet and saw it was taiyaki, the pastry plump and freshly-baked. He gave it a bland look before taking a bite. He usually wasn't one for traditional baked treats but it was surprisingly good and he ate at a measured pace, ignoring his stomach's demands of wolfing it down.

Once he was done, he crumpled the packet and shoved it inside his pocket. After a while, he fixed his steely green eyes on the back of Mitsuya's head and said, with steadfast sincerity, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But for my sister…I don't want to see her get hurt ever again. I just want to keep her safe. To that end, I'm not scared."

Mitsuya turned his head to give him an approving smile. Even Hakkai took a second to glance at him over the rearview mirror.

"A good answer," Mitsuya said. "Mikey will be pleased to hear that."

Taito looked away with a quiet huff. He honestly didn't care what Mikey thought and it wasn't like he said it to look tough or to please anyone. His Nee-chan deserved more than what this rotten world had to offer after what she went through, and to protect her was simply the bare minimum. For this reason, he would stand up against anyone who would threaten her safety.

His confidence was not unfounded, either. Taito had prepared a safety net, their father had connections, and if he played his cards right he could turn this whole ordeal in their favor.

Soon enough the car pulled into a secluded estate surrounded by high concrete walls. Once the tall gates closed behind them, Taito felt the creeping sense of something real bad about to happen. Motorcycles and armored cars were parked in an almost defensive formation around the front yard. There were Toman soldiers everywhere with some of them openly wielding AK-203s, their expressions stamped with warlike vigilance. It was like going through a small military base. And up ahead was a large solemn-looking mansion, a fortress made of steel and stone fit for Toman's founding commander.

The car stopped right in front of the entrance. Someone was waiting for them by the door, a man wearing an all-red suit with his long, light pink hair styled in a sleek ponytail. Half of his face was covered by a red facemask made of fabric but he was striking in his one-color ensemble, resembling a knight in his armor of cashmere and silk. Suddenly he turned to approach them and Taito did a double take upon seeing the black-sheathed katana resting on his left hip.

"Holy shit! That guy's got a fucking sword," he blurted out, unable to keep his disbelief to himself.

"That would be Sanzu," Mitsuya shared as he took off his seatbelt. "Mikey's head bodyguard. Don't worry. He doesn't swing unless you're a threat."

"Lucky me," Taito rejoined dryly. "I thought for sure that'd be Mikey-san's right-hand man or something. What about the actual right-hand? Does he carry a sword too?"

'Oh, right. Isn't that supposed to be Kisaki?' Taito realized a beat later.

Mitsuya chuckled and threw him a quick smile. "You're looking at him."

Stupefied, Taito sat there for a moment before moving to follow Mitsuya out of the car. But just as he twisted the door open, Hakkai unexpectedly stalled him back.

"Hey." Taito looked over and met the older male's somber stare. "You're not too bad, kid," Hakkai said. "Try not to puke once you're inside. Taka-chan went through all the trouble to get the boss his taiyaki and nobody likes a brat with a weak stomach."

There was so much to unpack in there but Taito simply gave him a disconcerted blink before going out with a quick shake of his head. He was just a few steps behind Mitsuya, who carried the thermal bag underneath one arm while his other hand lay on top of it.

'Crazy whimsical bastard,' Taito thought. He couldn't believe he'd just been fed one of Mikey's taiyaki.

Sanzu's narrowed eyes went to Taito's before it eventually settled on the older male in front of him. He fell in stride with Mitsuya, who didn't bother stopping as he relegated the thermal bag in his care.

"You're late," Sanzu hissed, clutching the bag in his arms as though it was a misbehaving child. "I thought it was because you had trouble bringing him in but I don't see a broken bone in sight."

Taito stiffened, shooting the pink-haired man a quick glare. He was being such an asshole and for what?

Mitsuya, on the other hand, was unperturbed. "What an awful joke," he drawled with a smile, decidedly lighthearted at what would've normally been a form of disrespect from someone who was technically below him in rank. Taito supposed they were either friends or they must've gone a long way back.

"And why is he still wearing something so compromised?" Sanzu continued in a biting tone. "The boss is not going to be happy when he sees that on him."

"Yeah, sure. Keep talking as if I'm not here," Taito grumbled against his collar. He kept his voice deliberately low but judging from the lightning-fast scowl Sanzu threw his way, he had definitely heard.

"You want him to change now? We're running late, aren't we? And unless you have something else the boy can change into to ward off the cold evening air then be my guest," Mitsuya suggested airily, making Taito smirk in a take that kind of manner.

It wasn't like he was sensitive to the cold. He could've taken the vest off but he wore it as is for a purpose—to show Mikey that Reiya got hurt because of him. That he'd put an innocent woman in danger and must take responsibility for it. Would it piss him off? Probably. Would Taito enjoy rubbing it in his face though? Definitely.

"It's the height of fucking summer!" Sanzu seethed.

Mitsuya gave an indolent shrug. "More importantly, how are things going? He still alive?"

The energy seemed to have shifted. Sanzu's response was as hard and swift as his ground-eating strides.

"Barely."

The exchange was unsettling. Taito didn't show any outward reaction but he'd gone all stiff with a cold bout of anxious curiosity on the inside. Just what the hell was going on? Who was barely still alive? Was it Mikey? Did something happen to him? Taito couldn't imagine anything happening to their big bad boss, but the thick lump of cake he just ate was rising up to strangle him in the suspense.

He had heard rumors of tension between Mikey and Kisaki. The latter was the former's trusted deputy whenever he went overseas but there was also something supposedly unresolved in their history. Asking for the details had been akin to grasping at wisps of smoke in the high wind so Taito stopped delving into it, doubting it had any relevance since it wasn't the kind of info he was after in the first place.

But Hanma worked closely with Kisaki. He had his ear and they even had matching fashion senses with the glasses and striped suits for fuck's sake. And if Mitsuya's indication was anything to go by…

Something was brewing in the air and Taito had the damning sense that his sister was smack-dab in it—the innocuous and harmless butterfly whose broken wings had stirred up a storm.

The inside of the building resembled more of a bureau than a home with all its hard angles and smooth efficacy, not a single hint of softness or warmth in sight. The large crystal chandeliers brought a ritzy touch but it only made Taito feel like he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be in, walking through a structure built on a foundation of crime and blood money. There were guards strategically stationed on the upper and lower levels, with a few of them sending him pointed looks varying from caution to amazement, and finally disdain.

Taito ignored them all, looking ahead. The three of them descended into a grand stairway leading to a bleak passageway. It was poorly lit and seemed endless, the ambiance beyond it rife with ghastly tranquility. One look and Taito knew, instinctively, that whatever was happening or being kept down there was meant to never see the light of day ever again.

He began to hesitate with every step and Mitsuya noticed, slowing his pace to match his. "What's up ahead?" Taito couldn't resist asking, his pulse accelerating with every unnerving echo of Sanzu's marching footfalls, which was steadily becoming urgent the closer they got to wherever they were going.

Mitsuya's expression turned grave, but not unkind. "You rightfully wondered why Mikey would want to bring you here after what happened to your older sister. Well, Natsu…you're about to find out."

They rode an elevator down and reached a room guarded by two men, who immediately bowed to acknowledge their presence, or specifically, to acknowledge the two older males with Taito. They barely looked at him as they opened the door, its heavy metallic sound squealing through the daunting silence with a prolonged creak.

There was an instant shift in temperature, as if the door had been a barrier separating this world and the next. There was a ringing in Taito's ears, growing louder and louder until it morphed into something else...a vicious, repulsive pounding...the discordant rhythm of fists on dented flesh.

Sanzu strolled inside, his expression unchanging while Mitsuya rested a hand on Taito's shoulder to guide him in, patting him twice as if to say "It'll be okay". Taito doubted that with every fiber of his being as the door closed behind them, but then he thought of Reiya—smiling warmly as she thanked him for being there for her—and his nerves steeled.

For her, this would be nothing he couldn't handle.

But in the end, nothing prepared him for what he was about to see.

Inside the room was exactly what Taito thought it was—a chamber for unspeakable horror, lit with a harrowing brightness and bereft of any furniture save for a steel single sink by the wall, a table bearing a towel and a tray with an assortment of…Taito didn't even want to look…and a metal chair with an expensive-looking black overcoat draped on the backrest. Nearly taking up the whole floor was a thick blue tarp which, as far as he could tell, was crudely substituting as a dojo mat.

For in the middle of it was Hanma, half-naked and on his knees, his face battered to the point it was colored with three different hues at once. He had been suffering for quite some time and it wasn't just his face. His shoulders were crooked at the joints, one arm was sickeningly longer than the other, one ankle was sprained and both of his tattooed hands were crushed, the fingers broken. His frame—once proud and overwhelmingly intimidating—was now languishing to the ground, upheld by nothing more than a fist in his matted hair. Upon closer look Hanma was still wearing the same suit he wore yesterday when he'd come to take Reiya's life, pointing to the obvious probability that his disappearance hadn't been an escape after all, and that Naoto and Kisaki weren't the only ones who'd sent people to survey her.

In other words, Hanma was a dead man the moment he showed up at Reiya's door with a bouquet of flowers.

And he wasn't the only casualty.

Taito had identified a stench; the rotten rust-like miasma of an open bruise. He sought out its source like a bloodhound on high alert and found four more people—bodies—in the room with bloodied sacks over their heads. With their faces hidden—and likely mutilated beyond repair—it would've been impossible to recognize who they were, but one of them had tattooed sleeves of intricate tribal symbols and koi fish on both of his arms.

Taito recoiled with a heart-thundering shudder and nearly staggered as nausea imploded at the base of his lungs, so pervasive and fierce he could almost taste it at the back of his teeth. He had to cover his nose to stave it off less he chucked what little resided in his stomach on the floor. The koi-tattooed male had been his main source of information within the gang, the man who'd practically taken him under his wing when he first enlisted as a member. He was a jovial sort and a notorious chain-smoker known as one of Hanma's transporters, but now he was no more than a hapless corpse, his hulking build left to stew like a mound of festering trash.

It was unclear as to what extent his senior was involved in with the whole situation but the room practically bled with unforgiving brutality—the palpable and deadly rage of a man exacting vengeance rendering Taito unable to breathe. His wide eyes went to the man in question, watching with horrified awe when the muscles in his bare back flexed as he pulled his other arm in—

There was a squelching burst of impact and Hanma flew back with a choked wheeze. Taito hadn't seen even seen the punch connect. By the time he blinked Hanma was already down after slamming against the wall a few meters away from his executioner, the latter attired in a black shitabaki designed with vibrant flares of white flames outlined in gold. It was clear that what had started out as a challenge ended as what it'd always been since the very start—a death match, with the other four serving as witnesses beyond the grave. And as the sole champion turned around, Taito felt every tiny hair on his back, arms, and neck prickle in attention, in warning.

From what he'd been told, Taito had expected someone in their late 30s, someone even scarred with all the fights he'd participated in all throughout his youth, with a mug that was seasoned with experience. Instead, Toman's alpha looked barely older than him, wasn't even taller than him, with a face that looked as if he'd been drawn by a loving hand. He moved towards them, and when the glare of the light above struck his pale, golden hair, a vivid gold haze seemed to fan out around his head like a halo. He looked like a vision, an angel. Not as a messenger of good tidings but a punisher.

There was a dark and regal grace to him, the kind that Taito had never encountered in his short stunt as a Toman delinquent. He'd met killers and men of all kinds of vile but this man, Sano Manjiro...was on a whole different caliber. One who stood at the apex of Japan's underbelly. The swirling dragon tattoo on his neck stood out with an otherworldly sheen, the absence of scars and mutilations on his slender but powerful form cementing his epithet—untouched, invincible.

Sanzu and Mitsuya executed a short bow but Taito was petrified. Mikey was looking straight at him, his darker-than-black eyes piercing him like a dart to the wall. Blood—not his—stained his bare chest and hands and the upper majority of his shitabaki, the fabric wet where crimson had clung. A few smears and splotches had reached his neck, his temple, and a long red strip was running down from his left cheek, its shape resembling a teardrop.

"Cherry-chan's little brother," he greeted with a huge, nothing short of a beam kind of smile as he stopped right in front of him, and Taito was completely, completely, utterly terrified.

"What's your name?" Mikey asked with a slight inclination of his head, the dull shine of curiosity in his eyes reminiscent of a savage beast's when it meets a smaller, less threatening animal for the first time.

Taito's throat was dry. He didn't understand why Mikey would ask when he obviously already knew who he was until it suddenly hit him that he did. He might've been Reiya's little brother, but he was also one of Toman's. And as long as he was one of theirs, Taito's identity was unquestionable in the face of their founder's.

With great and discreet effort, the silverhead unclenched his hands and said, "I go by Natsu."

Mikey nodded once, a show of curt approval, acknowledgment. He cocked his head to the side. "You know..." he began, his gaze sliding down to the tribal dragon tattoo on Taito's forearm before sliding back up with an even bigger smile, his eyes crinkling like crescent moons. "You remind me of Ken-chin."

"Uh..." Was he trying to ease the atmosphere? Ease him in cause he was a kid? Taito didn't know who the hell he was talking about but from how the room suddenly seemed to cinch around him with its scrutiny, whoever this Ken-chin was must've mattered a great deal.

"You're both really tall," Mikey added, in an almost to himself matter-of-fact voice. The cheery smile he wore gradually toned down, however, like a lamp running out of gas, and something in his countenance shifted then.

Taito saw a tick of hesitation there, a dash of longing, and he wasn't as surprised as he thought he'd be when the blond finally asked, "How is she?"

The query was uttered softly, in a voice that carried more emotion than it showed. Right then in front of Taito, the image of Toman's ruthless leader and his sister's one-time-but-not-quite-fleeting sweetheart reconciled into one. Blood was dripping from Mikey's knuckles but he was focused on him as if he was seeing something through him, the monster from minutes ago reverting back into a human...just for this moment. Waiting for the answer like a soul condemned from heaven.

In the face of leashed despair, Taito found himself relaxing a little, although his expression remained stiff. "She's doing okay," he said. "The surgery was successful and the doctor said she'd recover in no time. As long as she gets proper rest and doesn't do anything crazy for a while."

As long as nobody comes after her again was the silent inference that everyone in the room tacitly understood.

"I see..." Mikey's gaze fell away from the teen's, settling on the bright red stains on his vest. "Is that hers?" he asked quietly.

It was such a strange thing to ask but Taito nodded anyway, and before he could actually spell it out Mikey extended an arm and splayed a hand on his vest, right over the bloodstains on his chest where he'd held Reiya after Hanma had fled. The sudden contact shot through him like heat from a live wire. Taito fought from flinching and barely won, but his throat had closed off and his heart went into overdrive, threatening to launch itself right there on the blond's awaiting hand.

A shadow fell over Mikey's blank face. The pads of his fingers pressed hard, containing a pressure that sought to take—as if he could absorb the memory, her sorrow, her pain.

"He stabbed her right here, didn't he."

It wasn't a question. The air inside the room became charged with a crackling, all-consuming tension as something changed in Mikey's face, the kind that darkens the world just moments before a tempest. The blond reclaimed his hand and Taito finally found himself breathing with ease again, only to freeze as Mikey strode over to the table, one blood-sullied hand dipping in the tray to grab a small hunting knife—one meant for hulling, for peeling. He turned his back on them and walked off towards the tarped area, his target and intentions as explicit as the gleam on his blade.

"Breathe, Natsu," someone murmured beside him and Taito's head whirled to stare at Mitsuya, wide-eyed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Well I'm about to, aren't I?" he bit off, his eyes quivering in alarm as they darted back to Mikey. "Mitsuya-san, what is he—"

"Penance," the older male said, simply and privately. "This is why you're here. As a witness…as the last and closest contact Mikey will ever have of Yunagi-san."

The words, the weight...pierced through the silverhead with a hot and cold tremor. He sucked in a quiet breath, standing as still as a statue as Mikey kicked Hanma on the shoulder so he'd be on his back. The blond mounted him across the stomach as if he were sitting astride a motorcycle, holding him down by the neck when he suddenly began to writhe. Hanma stopped moving but his black and blue chest continued to labor with erratic breaths. How he was still alive was a damn miracle in itself but Taito couldn't even recognize his face anymore, broken and swollen to the extent even his own mother couldn't possibly identify.

There was a moment of haunting suspension. Mikey's mid-length hair curtained his expression as he lowered his face. He appeared to be saying something to Hanma, the words sounding calm and almost gentle as they floated over to where Taito stood. It sounded incomprehensible with his racing heart in his ears but then Mikey raised the knife high over his head, and suddenly he heard it, as loud and as clear as a pin dropping to the floor.

Two words.

Never again.

Hanma let out a wheezing grunt as the knife sunk right above his left pec, the sound turning into a bloodcurdling sputter as the blade went down and down to his ribs, cutting muscle and arteries and bones as it went around and up and up into a jagged circle before being wrenched out just to sink deep into his flesh again.

Taito shut his eyes and looked away. Once upon a time he'd wanted to kill the bastard himself but he couldn't bear to watch anymore. He didn't even want to see this in the first place. He wanted to fucking leave.

Hanma's guttural groans persistently grated the insides of his ears like nails to a chalkboard, deafening him until he couldn't hear it anymore.

Taito released a shaky breath before daring to look again. From the corner of his eyes he saw how Sanzu and Mitsuya looked completely unaffected, and it struck him once again at how different these men were built despite being in the same gang as them. That this was their bread and fucking butter, and he was just a kid at the end of the day.

Mikey had stood, the blood on his knife falling to the tarp in thick, viscous rivulets. He grabbed Hanma by the hair with his free hand and yanked him up so he was sitting, the skin on his torso torn with wet, dark red gashes forming a pattern, a shape. And once Taito saw what it was, every breath suddenly turned solid as they clamored in his lungs, sticking in his throat.

It was a double cherry. Grisly and imperfect, the joined bend of their carved stems appearing to cage Hanma's heart beneath a narrow arch.

"What do you think, Natsun?" Mikey suddenly asked and Taito blinked thrice in quick succession, his rough-soft voice echoing in his head as though it came from deep in a cave.

'W-what?'

"Haha. You're Natsun now," he heard Mitsuya say.

The blond suddenly looked at him, his obsidian eyes placid and empty. "Do you think this is enough for Cherry-chan to forgive me?"

The distance was shrinking between them, pulling Taito in breath by breath even though they were motionless. It was a rhetorical question, a question not even he could answer for the sole reason it wasn't even his to give...but Taito opened his mouth to respond anyway, and it took all of his strength to even pull his trembling lips and gritted teeth apart.

"I…I don't—"

"Yeah," Mikey affirmed, inadvertently cutting him off. He smiled a soft and almost tragic smile, forming an unnerving contrast with the swirling void in his eyes. "It's not, isn't it? What do you think should I do, Natsun?" He glanced at Hanma, who was barely breathing but still very much alive with the way he kept twitching, reminding Taito of a cockroach. "For Cherry-chan…This isn't enough, is it?"

He released Hanma with a listless shove. Suddenly Mikey lifted his chin, his face lighting up with unbridled—yet utterly soulless—anticipation.

"Oh! I know…I'll kill Kisaki."

Taito blanched and Hanma stopped twitching, going deathly still.

"I'm going to kill him," Mikey repeated evenly, "so nobody's going to hurt her ever again. And after that…"

His loose smile evaporated as he looked straight ahead, his gaze aimless but predatory.

"This darkness will end with me."

The statement was a black hole, taking on the form of a gaping maw dead set on devouring everything. And everything…the murders, the cherry symbol, the army outside…All of it along with Sanzu and Mitsuya's stoic expressions proved that the startling declaration wasn't something that was uttered on a whim just now.

Not even an hour ago Taito had been doubting Mikey's feelings (doubting even Reiya's feelings), but now a war was about to break out all because of his sister. For his sister.

What happened next blew up like a jumpscare.

Hanma appeared right behind Mikey, his form no less substantial than a mangled dark shadow as he towered over him. Taito, driven by pure nerves and some inexplicable instinct, lurched forward but was intercepted by a quicksilver blur by his side, a sharp flash of black aluminum and an explosive pop, the sound ripping the earth right beneath his feet.

Hanma's head flung backwards, a fading tendril of smoke following his descent. Only then did Mikey look over his shoulder, his eyes lidded and distant like he couldn't care less. His gaze went to Taito then to Mitsuya, who was already replacing his Hellcat RDP back in its shoulder holster right inside his silver suit jacket. Taito stared at him, jaw slack with his heartbeat rattling across his eardrums. He drew that shit so fucking fast he didn't even see it until he fired it.

Mitsuya turned to Mikey with a sheepish smile. "Too soon?"

The blond shook his head and walked towards the single sink. He tossed the blood-soaked knife in it, the clatter resounding like thunder. "Mn. It's fine. He was already dead anyway."

As preposterous as it sounded, Taito saw it was the truth. He'd always known that Hanma's endurance was on a whole 'nother level but that, just now, seemed more of a knee-jerk reaction than an actual assault, a display of unadulterated tenacity with the power to operate beyond pain and consciousness.

'Just like a goddamn zombie,' Taito marveled.

Mitsuya shifted to face the teen while Sanzu went to their boss who had just finished washing the blood off his skin, offering him the towel and an unwrapped taiyaki. Mikey took a bite without touching it as he dried himself, the sight so carefree and so wildly juvenile that it almost made Taito forget how he'd just brutalized a man.

"You alright, Natsu?" Mitsuya inquired with an undertone.

"Yeah," Taito murmured gruffly, not looking at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Granted, he felt a dizzying urge to hurl after seeing Hanma die. Taito was no stranger to violence and even death, but that had been the first time he saw someone get killed up close. Someone he was actually familiar with.

His eyes flicked over to Hanma's corpse and the bruise he left on his cheek suddenly throbbed in response, making Taito sick all over again the longer he stared.

"Let me rephrase the question, then." Mitsuya took a step closer, his gaze assessing. "Hanma's gone, and the rest who wish to harm your sister will follow. But you don't look very happy."

The silverhead met his gaze with a scowl, albeit it was an unstable one. He would never admit this, but some part of him was secretly relieved that Mitsuya was there. His somewhat irritating but not completely unwelcome efforts of engaging him were helping in bringing him back to earth just as he started to feel like disassociating after everything he witnessed. His presence was comforting, almost familiar. Although that could be alluded to his eyes, Taito supposed. They were colored ash-lavender, a shade darker than Reiya's.

"This mess is hardly a barrel full of chuckles," he retorted just as quietly before sobering up. "I get it now. I get why I'm here. But this wasn't...my sister..." Taito looked down and clenched his shaky fists, breaking off once he felt that familiar warmth of discomfort every time he tried to bare his true feelings. He knew no one would fault him for being relieved that Reiya's safety was guaranteed to some degree, and he was. But he was hardly in a celebratory mood considering this was far from his plans of keeping his sister safe from Kisaki's clutches. It didn't involve torture and homicide, for one thing. And now with how things were unfolding, this was only bound to make things worse. How would Kisaki retaliate once he found his right-hand man killed? How would Reiya react?

Taito met Mitsuya's gaze once more, about to say that killing people for his sister's sake would only make her even more miserable, that she was only going to blame herself. He also wanted to express his distress about Mikey intending to end Kisaki, the subsequent odds. Wouldn't that mean a full-blown war within the gang? Within the whole damn city?

But then a ringtone went off, drawing their full attention to the sound coming from Sanzu's inner breast pocket. He pulled the phone out and gave it to Mikey after murmuring what sounded like a name.

The blond swallowed his taiyaki and brought the phone to his ear. "Speak," he said as he dumped the towel on the metal chair, retaining his silence as he listened to whatever was being relayed. When the other line finally quieted, Mikey's stone-faced mien looked twice as hard as he answered, "Is that so? Alright. You have my permission, Souya. Tell your brother we will proceed tonight. There is no need to wait."

That last part wasn't just addressed to the caller alone, but to the whole room in general. Mikey returned the phone to Sanzu, who reclaimed it with a reverent nod, before lightly jerking his head back to where Hanma's corpse laid, issuing a command that only the pink-haired male understood. And as Sanzu left the metal door swung open and a man with a mullet walked in, his eyes darting from the body on the tarp before settling on Mikey, his expression taut with suppressed alarm.

He bowed swift and straight before speaking. "Boss. We got visual on Chome and Chouji's teams fast approaching from six blocks away. It's just as you predicted."

"Already?" Mitsuya commented lowly, earning Taito's questioning gaze. "Sanzu's yet to send the 'gift'."

And by 'gift' he meant Hanma's body. That, or a photo of it judging from how Sanzu was currently leaning over it with his phone out.

But of course Kisaki would already know, and Mikey knew of that too seeing as how the look in his eyes changed even if his face didn't. There was a glint of something gleeful there, something primal. And when he spoke, his voice was as soft as the kiss of a blade. Smooth, punishing.

"Then I hope they'll enjoy the warm welcome."

Mullet man gave a rigid nod and promptly went out of the room. They followed not soon after once Sanzu returned to Mikey's side, draping the expensive black overcoat over the blond's shoulders, the lower flaps billowing like a cape behind him while he finished the rest of his taiyaki with large, idle bites. Taito could barely keep up, becoming so tense his muscles were cramping. Cold sweat misted his temples, dampening his back and underarms. The odds he dreaded so much was becoming reality with sickening speed, coming in fast on literal hot wheels but even then here wasn't the eye of the storm, and all he could think of was Reiya—alone in her hospital room, oblivious and helpless. She was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be.

The main floor was already bursting with activity, men darting here and there with weapons being prepared and distributed. One of them approached carrying a combat belt with two tactical drop-leg holsters in one hand and a heavy-duty gun case in the other. Mikey paused to take the combat belt from him, snapping it around his lean waist before strapping the drop-leg holsters on his thighs with the same snappy fluidity. The gun case was already opened and inside sat the most lavish-looking firearms Taito had ever seen. They were a pair of Mark XIX, glossy with a nitron-black finish and embellished with titanium gold.

Mikey took them, loaded them, and in the midst of securing them in their respective holders he threw a speaking glance towards Mitsuya and commanded, "Get in contact with Mucho and go to center point. Be my eyes and ears there. Once you have Kisaki's location, send it to me at once."

Hearing "center point" made Taito nearly turn on the blond and ask if he was fucking serious. Center point was Kisaki's base of operations. Everything surrounding that building was under his control, even the goddamn police station, and sending Mitsuya there would be like sending him straight to the gallows.

Was Mikey seriously going to let that happen? Why was nobody trying to stop him from unleashing hell on his own gang?

As much as he already understood, Taito just couldn't wrap his head around it. And, sensing a similar vibe, his eyes became drawn to Sanzu. The pink-haired male was stock-still with his forehead scrunched as if constipated, clearly not liking this any more than he did.

Mitsuya nodded, prompt and resolute. His lavender eyes caught Taito's and a gently encouraging smile crossed his face.

"So long, Natsu."

It was likely going to be the last time he was going to see Mitsuya and yet Taito couldn't muster a response, his tight gut growing even tighter once the older man left. A small, very tiny part of him actually regretted not giving a simple thanks, or even a proper farewell, but that was just how it was in Toman. You don't say goodbye unless you mean it.

"Excuse me, sir, but what about him?" Sanzu suddenly dispensed, obviously pointing at Taito without looking at him. Clearly he didn't think he'd fare well in the war about to commence. Not that Taito cared and nor did he want to participate. He wanted to be out of there ASAP.

Mikey twisted to face the pink-haired male as he slipped his arms inside the sleeves of his black overcoat. "Ah, that's right. You take him, Haruchiyo."

Taito cringed. 'What?'

Sanzu's jaw dropped behind his mask. "What? But Mikey, I need to be here by—"

"No. You need to take Natsun out of here," the blond stated firmly, his tone absolute. "You're the only one I trust with that. You already know what to do, don't you?"

As much as he looked like he'd rather choke on his own spit and die, Sanzu clenched his hands and bowed his head in complete submission. "As you wish. I live only to deliver your command."

Mikey regarded his head bodyguard with dispassionate eyes before bringing said eyes to rest on Taito. The silverhead straightened subconsciously, both awaiting and wondering what else he was going to say to him.

But before any words came out, a light smile took shape and Mikey's obsidian eyes were not as impassive and animalistic as before. It was warmer now somehow, almost brotherly.

"You did good, Natsun. I'm glad...that Cherry-chan has a brother like you."

The words sank into him like they were something he'd been waiting for. Taito's eyes burned behind their sockets, and when Mikey lifted a fist he had to tighten his mouth to keep it from trembling. The surge of deference was impossible to ignore then and it went beyond what the blond was due as Toman's founding commander. Mikey was an enigma, a singularity—a beast among dogs and a meister among weapons—possessing a charming complexity that Taito couldn't help but admire.

But above all, he was someone who cared deeply for his Nee-chan after all.

"Keep her safe, alright?" the blond requested solemnly, the vibrant abyss in his eyes filled with pinpricks of pain and meaning. "Keep her away."

With a determined nod, Taito brought his own fist up and bumped the side of it against Mikey's own.

"You can count on me, Mikey-san!"

Mikey nodded. "Good." He lowered his hand, smile and all traces of warmth dissipating as his eyes swerved to Sanzu. "Now go, Haruchiyo. And hurry back to me."

After that, Sanzu took Taito to the one place he didn't think to return to in light of the circumstances—his parents' residence. It was one shock after the other; how Sanzu knew his address, how he'd practically slammed him to the ground after throwing him off his GPZ900R before finally airdropping Hanma's death pic. "A souvenir," the pink-haired male spat.

It was then that Taito snapped. All of the fear, anxiety, and frustration he'd bottled up in the past hour gushed forth at the prospect of putting the rest of his family in harm's way. He grabbed the older male by the lapels, shaking him as he got down in his face.

"You motherfucker! I don't know what the fuck your problem is but why'd you bring me here?! You tryna get my family killed?!"

"Tell that to your sister," Sanzu snarled. He broke free from Taito's hold and fisted a hand into his vest, clutching so hard the silverhead winced. "Everything is ruined because of her. Everything! I tried to stop him..." Sanzu whispered, his hands trembling, his gray eyes shaking in fury and desperation. "I tried to tell him what this would mean for Toman but he wouldn't listen! And it's all your sister's fault!"

Taito's scowl turned bewildered. Was this why he was such an asshole in the beginning? Because he pinned the blame on Reiya?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he lashed out, cutting a hand across Sanzu's wrist and pushing him away with his teeth bared in protective ferocity. "How the fuck is it my sister's fault when she was just dragged into this! In the first place, everything is all Kisaki's fault for killing her best friend! So you're throwing a tantrum on the wrong guy here, asshole! And why the fuck should Mikey-san listen to you?! It was his choice to make, his decision to atone, and that's none of your business!"

Sanzu was quiet for a moment, his eyes wide with a deranged sort of disbelief before he threw his head back, "Ha!" and laughed. An honest-to-goodness psycho laugh. It was so unpleasant, so unhinged, that Taito stepped back and seriously considered punching his teeth in just to get him to shut up.

And he seriously would have if Sanzu hadn't abruptly stopped that same moment, sounding winded as he spoke again, blistering breathlessly between clenched teeth as he ripped the mask off his face—

Taito jerked back at the sight of his scars and Sanzu's words hit him harder than a whiplash.

"You know nothing, you insolent brat! You and your sister...you know nothing about Mikey. His origins, his destiny...NOTHING!"

For a moment Taito couldn't speak, frozen at the sight of a scarred Sanzu because whatever caused those long-ago wounds on his mouth of all places couldn't have been normal.

But he was quick to recover, now annoyed more than anything at this pink-haired asshole's rebuke.

"But Mikey-san knows, doesn't he?" Taito fired back. "And he did what he did knowing he fucking does. Everything's gone to shit but there's nothing you and I can do about it now. So pull up your grown-up pants, sir, and suck it up. We're just pawns in the end anyway."

The last came out more self-deprecating than he'd intended, but it seemed to affect Sanzu in some way for he calmed and left the subject as is. A light breeze stirred in their midst, carrying echoes of the night—crickets, whispering leaves, and the ringing barks of an elderly dog nearby—heightening the silence between them.

Finally Sanzu sighed and replaced the mask on his face, straightening his suit with a smooth tug before turning to mount his motorcycle as if it were a horse—knees splayed, back straight. Elegant as though he hadn't acted like a fanatical maniac just seconds ago.

"Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Talking to you is like talking to a monkey, but even a monkey would understand."

Taito crossed his arms and smiled wide, although one of the corners was twitching. "Oh yeah? Must be embarrassing losing your temper on a monkey, huh? You goddamn samurai wannabe."

Sanzu's eye twitched but expelled a superior-sounding huff instead of responding. He turned the engine on and drew on his helmet, but not before slipping Taito one last look, his eyes cold and narrowed.

"This is goodbye, Natsukage Taito. We have no need of brats like you so you'd do well not to cross paths with Toman ever again. However, I promise you this..." The gray pools intensified, flashing so coldly it burned Taito down to his marrow. "If Mikey dies, I will not hesitate to hunt you and your sister down. I will kill you...and not even the blood between us will stop me."

The engine roared and Taito's heartbeat erupted with it, but not because of the threat. His eyebrows drew together into the most confounded look he'd worn and felt yet and he called him out, "The fuck are you—"

But Sanzu was already pulling away from the drive, his exhaust muffler unleashing a flurry of milky-white smoke and rumbling dissonance into the cloudless night.

That night, Taito hadn't slept a wink and he'd laid low for the next two days, the most gut-wrenching period of inactivity in his entire life. Two days of questioning himself and what he knew, what he'd seen and who he'd met with Sanzu's haunting parting words looming in the back of his mind, but none were as important as knowing Reiya's condition. Their parents had been adamant he stay put but eventually relented after Taito practically begged them to let him see his sister, who was no doubt in the dark about it all.

Toman was all over the news, headlining as the bloodiest internal strife the country had ever seen in the modern age. Thankfully Reiya hadn't seen nor heard of it yet but he had been terrified of telling her the truth, or as much of it as he allowed. Taito focused on what was important and it pained him when he'd had to show her Hanma's body yet hide the entirety of what he knew. But he knew he made the right call, because how she'd reacted was more than less of what he'd expected. She'd been so stubborn and desperate and so naïve, and yet he had never seen her look so alive.

And now here she was, as undettered as the man she loved. Fighting in another time, another life, to change everything.

He wouldn't get too involved was what Taito had always told himself, a moot point now that he was more than waist-deep in, and what he'd experienced in the last five days made him painfully aware of how he was merely a cog in a monstrous and elaborate machine, a frog in a deep dark well.

But he didn't despair as much as it had frustrated him, bolstered him. As Reiya's Trigger this fight was his as much as it was hers, and even a cog like him had its uses. Even a pawn had the ability to turn the tide in this game of fate.

"Nee-chan...I won't let you leave me behind this time," Taito vowed shakily, sniffling once and quickly wiping his tears away the very moment they fell. "I'll fight and do what I can here on my end too, so you have to come back soon, alright?"

A soft exhale was the only reply. Taito held his head low for a while, shutting his stinging eyes, taking all the encouragement he could get from Reiya's soft, callused hand.

With a solid path in view, Taito teared himself away from the bed and out of the room, measuring his steps to the ones in his plans. First things first; information. It was the most overlooked luxury in the world, and one he couldn't afford from Toman now that he'd been barred from within its sphere (not to mention his favorite chain-smoking informant got snuffed out).

Very well, Taito decided. That just meant he had to make do with the next best thing—the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

'And I'll start with you...Tachibana Naoto.'

A/N: This ended up being way much longer than I thought it'd be (o.o) again, I'm not very confident with this chapter but I did have fun writing gunslinger Mitsuya and giving Sanzu some screentime ❤❤❤ some revelations got hinted too and that sure makes the upcoming chapters so exciting, doesn't it? =D

So anyway, hi! So this is where my Author's Notes become Author's Nags because once again I've come to, uhhh, bitch. Well, not exactly, but it concerns Chapter 4 with some readers expressing their distaste on AO3 and I feel I need to address it publicly because it's clearly becoming an issue to some, which is the whole idea of Reiya falling for Mikey in a span of just 2 days (barely a day if we're to be technical).

First of all, people having different opinions that do not always agree with yours is something I respect (as long as they're not being an asshole about it) and want to be respected for, so I'm not really angry. Their comments weren't exactly flames too so I kept it up and didn't delete it for the sake of transparency (and please, LEAVE THEM ALONE. The last thing I want is a fight breaking out over this and any mean comment will be immediately deleted). Now, what I'm about to say may sound like excuses, but I feel it's important to be said.

Before Cherry Jade came into fruition, I just really wanted to write a fic of a series I enjoyed for a character I adore. Mikey is a character deserving of so much love, and he deserves someone falling exactly like a Disney princess for him and boy did I have a blast writing it. You may not think it was realistic and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but...this is fanfiction. I didn't write this to be realistic, I wrote this to douse my fictional baby in affection and to further hone my skills as a writer. You really weren't even supposed to think too deeply about this, you were meant to enjoy it as a reader. And if you did and you wanna let me know you're very welcome to do so whether it be through follows/faves, kudos, votes, etc., I need that. Actual feedback though is a special kind of fuel for authors and if you think there are some things that needed to be fixed you can say it, just don't be rude about it. And should you ever find it cringe just cringe to yourself and leave with your dignity. I'm not only saying that for myself but for other writers, too. Please leave us alone if you ain't got any encouraging words to say. It's that simple.

Now back to Reiya, while I did intend for her to fall in love so quickly like so I've also prepared a foil to confront that very controversy, which will be taking in the form of one occult-loving policeman. So if you wanna see her get roasted for it then stay tuned until maybe around Chapter 17 or 18, practically after she leaps back to the new future when the two of them finally meet. I know that was practically a spoiler just now lol but I just wanted to get that out there for clarity and I hope my point is clear.

Remember, folks. The world of fanfiction is a world of self-indulgence first and foremost and I hope we don't forget that. Believe me; a fictional woman falling in love in just a day ain't gonna be the craziest fictional thing you're ever gonna read. I guarantee it *lights a cig*

Thanks for coming to my TED talk! Take care and see you around 💖