The Mask Shatters
Chapter 15
"Yet, in a way, all humans are gluttonous… None are without such grievous sin."
Author's Note
To our mysterious Joshua Graham reviewer, we've got something just for you in this chapter.
A pen twirling between his fingers.
The dusk of Tokyo's sky, long a distant memory.
Replaced only by the twilight of Tokyo's nightfall.
The stars were out, shining high above the city like beacons from lands far away.
The moon stood out above it all, full of intensity and majesty.
And before him sat a stack of papers.
Given to him by the Chief Clerk himself, with instructions to have it all done before midnight tonight. A task befit mostly of someone no less high in the chain than Himura, of course, but the Chief Clerk also knew that Himura had elsewhere to be.
Yet still he chose to stick him with overtime, with no offer of extra compensation.
Himura sighed quietly, the annoyance at such misfortune bestowed upon him weighing upon his mind quite heavily.
Almost just as heavily as his fears for Arthur's safety.
While it's been true that he hasn't been showing so much as a single glance of worry since the day Arthur woke up from his blunt stupor, it is also true that it's all been a farce. One to keep everyone - including Kiwa - from seeing the storm brewing in Himura's mind.
Furthermore, he was worried that Arthur was beginning to catch on.
In fact, the day Himura smashed his phone and had forced himself to purchase a new one, the day Arthur was jumped by the Yakuza, he could've sworn that Arthur had overheard everything.
He had no proof, of course. But that didn't stop the thought from tugging at the edges of his mind. After all, he remembered he wasn't exactly being silent during the call.
Furthermore, there was no telling if the thug that had accosted Arthur had mentioned Himura by name, nor if he mentioned the reason for their little "visit".
Not that it mattered anymore.
Himura grunted, these worrisome thoughts plaguing his mind to the point that it only brought upon him migraines and discomfort. His pen slid out of his hand, collapsing upon the desk and clattering around with a distinct, thick thud that nearly compounded his growing headache.
Silently, he hoped Arthur wouldn't find out what Himura had done to anger such dangerous people.
But he also knew that it was a vain hope.
He knew Arthur was smart. Smarter than him. Smarter than many of his peers.
Himura knew it was only a matter of time until he figured it all out.
But then, Himura figured, it would probably already be too late.
Pressing his fingers against his temples, he groaned as he massaged them deeply and slowly.
Minutes passed, and then another thought entered his mind.
His eyes glancing upwards, gazing out towards the door as he realized something else.
"He already had a T.V…" He said, another aggravation entering his mind. "Why did I buy him another one?!"
For a moment, in all peculiarity, his ears were deafened.
Loud, ear-piercing cracks, followed by bright white flashes - exploding forward in a volley the likes of which only ignited a primal fear within the young man.
He could feel the trembling of the ground as a mass of ATMs fled the scene. If they were screaming, Arthur couldn't hear them.
Arthur watched as the security officers opened fire on the assailant - some wielding handguns and others wielding shotguns and rifles. Various choices of protection afforded them little defense, however, as the assailant - on what looked to be a motorcycle, circled the courtyard in such a flurry, such dizzying speed that Arthur could not keep up. A small device in hand, from which came bright breaks of light.
All the while security officers fell one by one, failing to bring this assailant down.
And Arthur could only watch, terrified that he was witnessing a gunfight in its entirety.
In fact, it was less of a gunfight, and more of a drive-by.
Fear began to overtake Arthur.
Everything was happening so fast, he couldn't even remind himself the falsehood this world was built upon.
But even so, as the attacker slowed their breakthrough and turned their weapon upon the officers guarding the gate, Arthur dove to the floor without a second thought.
He grunted as the air escaped him, and covered his head as what sounded like a distant crash sounded off, followed swiftly by both a sharp shaking of the earth and a gust of cold, cold wind blowing over him, rustling his clothes something fierce.
Arthur dared not move, however, as he felt something large - larger than himself and, indeed, possibly even the gate - sped by him.
He could even feel tiny pebbles kick up in response to the intrusion.
But even so, he refused to move.
Shaking in place, head buried into solid concrete with hands clasped over, with hearing seemingly vanished and his mind adrenalized purely by frazzled thought.
"Oh, holy hell!" He screeched internally, having forgotten his conclusion of this reality with the primal feeling of terror. "Keep your head down, keep your head down!".
He barely even felt the sharp tug at his collar, and the sudden rough, fear-laden shouts of the security officers around him.
"Give pursuit! Do not let them get away!" Someone had shouted, betraying no ounce of fear.
"Get the wounded inside! Customers too!" Another had ordered, his voice seemingly trembling with lesser stoicism. "Move, move!"
Arthur opened his eyes, watching as the green suited, inhuman guards rushed before him, chasing after the assailant. Some stopped themselves before the great ramp, and others rushed downwards - armed with what looked to be assault carbines and drum-magged shotguns.
All the while they grew further and further distant from himself, and it became readily apparent to even his shocked mind that he was being dragged away from the scene of the shootout.
Past wounded security officers, clutching tightly to the apparent wounds on their legs and arms and tended to by their unscathed comrades.
Past ATMs who sat idly by, crying and wailing into the sky as the trauma of the situation dawned on them in full. The sheer panic and terror entering their mind, finding semi-permanent roost.
Some shot, others uninjured.
All equally terrified.
Even the hand that dragged him seemed to be shaking.
Deafened ears, silenced by fear and irrational thinking, followed him all the way.
Until he found himself in the lobby of the bank.
At first, he couldn't believe everything he was seeing.
The smashed doors, the broken seats and chairs, the shattered glass of the busted windows, the injured and dying security officers and ATMs that happened to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It was all so fantastical.
The way the guards moved.
The way they stood.
The blood that seeped from the wounds of the injured - a sickly black ooze that dripped and dribbled from their trauma.
Human-looking tellers stood about, away from the scene of the crime alongside a security officer who seemed to be questioning them.
Arthur gulped as his eyes gazed around, unsure anymore of what was even going on.
Next to him stood an armed security officer, more imposing than most of the others, and his uniform boasting a more obnoxious yellow than the damp-looking green of the others.
Beefier in appearance, and armed with what looked to be a pump-action shotgun, this guard stood over him, watching the young man closely as he asked question after question, not-so-subtly interrogating Arthur for information on what exactly had occurred.
Unfortunately for the guard, however, Arthur had nothing to say.
"...and you have no idea who those hooligans were?" The guard asked, his voice deeper and more gravely than the others. As if his lungs and throat itself were destroyed by years and years of harmful substances.
Arthur shook his head, wary of the guard tapping his fingers on the pump. "I swear! I don't know who they were, don't even know where I am! I just kinda…" Arthur glanced around, unsure of what else to say. "Well… I guess I just stumbled in here…"
The guard looked at him a moment in absolute silence, his eyes hidden well behind his gas mask, stifled behind the lenses. Arthur looked up at him, visibly shaken by the burly stature of the man, and even further frightened of the ramifications of everything that just went down.
His mind had cleared.
The murky waters clouding his judgment have evaporated.
Where did that leave him?
Even Arthur couldn't figure it out.
And instead only watched the chaos' aftermath unfold around him, with death glares spinning about.
The guard shook his head, clicking his tongue as he took a knee to be at eye level with Arthur.
"And somehow I just don't believe you." He finally responded, his voice low with both spite and frustration. "But we'll figure everything out when the president comes to speak with you."
Arthur arched a brow. "Huh, wait-what?" Arthur asked the guard in return, putting his hands up in both alarm and surrender. "I'm telling you, I don't know what's going on! You-you don't need to get your boss involved in this!"
The guard looked Arthur dead in the eye, quiet as could be as Arthur stuttered and stammered his innocence - what seemed to be an excuse to the guard himself - out for him to hear.
Arthur couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the scowl he was being given. But it did little to calm his fears. In fact, it only made it worse with the sight of a loaded gun in his presence.
"I found myself here after, er, hanging out with friends! Everything looked weird and fantastical to the point I thought I was dreaming!" Arthur explained once more, looking around in sheer panic. "I don't know if I stumbled into some weird LARPing nonsense or what! I don't know who the mass shooter was, and I certainly don't fuck-"
"Save it, kid." The guard ordered, lifting himself back up onto his feet, disbelief proportioned into his words. "The only reason you're not dead right now is because of the president. So thank your lucky stars."
He then tapped Arthur's chest with the butt of his firearm, eliciting a sharp grunt of frightful aggravation from Arthur. "Otherwise, I'd already've blown your head off."
Arthur gulped. The tone in the guard's voice told him that he was serious.
"Personally…" The guard said, briefly turning away from Arthur to survey the damage done by the mass shooter. His colleagues and charges running to and fro. Some were carrying wounded inside, laying them down onto scattered benches and on the floor if the injuries were too severe. The security officials seemed to have taken precedence, whilst the walking ATMs were sidelined. "... It isn't often President Kaneshiro wants anything to do with the likes of you mongrels. Broke ass students and minimum wage workers…" He continued, his voice betraying a hint of stupefaction, followed by a sense of ready compliance.
"Even when those thieves waltzed in here like they owned the place, President Kaneshiro had us stay our hands so he could speak with them… But even then he had the foresight to know something was amiss, and refused to meet them personally."
Arthur cocked his head at the mention of the name "Kaneshiro".
"That name again…"
The guard then sighed, lowering his posture ever so slightly in an indication of disappointment. "He's wasting his time, and we can't expect the president to do all the work." He noted quietly, casting a look over his shoulder at Arthur. "You better pray to whatever god you worship that he feels merciful, because I wouldn't expect such after the catastrophe that was tonight."
"Kaneshiro…" Arthur then gulped quietly, the name echoing in his mind - sparked by a feeling of familiarity.
"Hooligans such as you, coming in here and smashing shit up like you have divine rights… It makes me sick to no goddamn end…."
"I'm telling you that I don't know what was going on!" Arthur countered, this time in frustration. Nearly jumping to his feet in disgusted offense that his name was being associate with the horrible crime of a mass shooting.
"Enough!" The guard spun around, shoving Arthur back down in his seat with a swift strike to his gut, sending Arthur reeling back.
"GRAAH!" Arthur screeched, clutching at his stomach as he fell back, shaking and coughing as the tremors spread through his body like a wildfire, pain accompanying every little shake and snivel.
"No insolence will be tolerated here!" The officer told him, gripping his weapon tightly and his voice dripping with venom as Arthur dared a glance up at the "man".
"That'll do." A voice called out to the both of them, startling the officer and Arthur both. The security officer quickly pivoted on his heels in the direction of the voice, bringing his hand upwards into a sharp, crip salute. His stature mimicking that of a soldier at attention. "Security Chief Graham, what have I told you about roughing up my customers?"
"Sir, my apologies, sir!" The officer, now known to Arthur as "Graham", stated with a sharp and steady voice. Almost as if he were addressing a military officer.
"At ease, soldier…or whatever it is you're pretending to be…" The newcomer's stepped forward from behind Officer Graham, shocking Arthur in totality of what he next witnessed.
A man, skin pigmented a sickly purple with dashing yellow eyes glaring down at him, burning into his head like a hot iron pressing firmly against. Standing above him with his chin risen high above Arthur as if he was looking down on him. With slick black hair and a chaplin-style moustache, and topped off with an expensive looking black accented silver two-piece suit.
"So. What have we here?" The man asked, clasping his hands behind his back as he stood over Arthur, eyes glinting with almost a physical representation of annoyance.
Arthur gulped, unsure of what to make of anything anymore.
Even with Officer Graham standing a stark few feet higher than the both of them, Kaneshiro refused to both look Officer Graham in the eye and as an equal, merely shifting his head to glance at him briefly with a commanding tone.
"Officer Graham, please go grab one of the grunts." President Kaneshiro practically ordered, jolting his head to the side to further compound the command. "This'll be a job for one of them…"
Officer Graham broke his posture, stepping back with a loud "Yes sir!"
"So. I assume you know who I am." Kaneshiro crossed his arms, cocking his head rather curiously as Officer Graham left to his orders. "If you didn't, why would you come here? Have you come to pay off the debt in full?"
Arthur, blinking in no small confusion, met his eyes with a baffled expression. Clearly unsure about what that even meant.
"Debt?" Arthur asked, slightly reeling still from his abuse. "W-what debt?" He added, before quickly sputtering forth, "Furthermore, who-who even are you?! What's going on here?!" Arthur gestured to everything around him "I just need some semblance of an explanation! Like, hello?!"
"Oh my." Kaneshiro hummed, slowly facepalming and shaking his head rather disappointedly. "So you risked life and limb in the wolf's den for nothing. I had expected more from such a diligent student…" He said, lowering his hand down to reveal his eyes. A small chuckle followed, with him adding "But I suppose even my intelligence network can be faulty at times…"
"H-huh?" Arthur looked at him, a brow risen in response.
"...But then again, dumb kids are sometimes hard to predict." The man crossed his arms, looking the young American up and down as if he was judging him. A snooty, snarky, evil expression carved a way onto his face. "When one of my boys tried to collect the debt a few weeks back, he told me you had threatened him with an unseen weapon - one he surmised to be a knife. Hell, perhaps it was a gun. I mean, you ARE an American, after all. Guns are just toys to you all."
"W-what?" Arthur, for a moment "I… never… What?" He slumped his shoulders down, cocking his head in confusion.
"Wait, really?" The purple-skinned man chuckled almost realistically. As if he had found himself surprised by the revelation. "Heh, you're telling me you don't at all remember that day?"
"What day?" Arthur asked him, finding a slight irritation brewing despite his best attempts to keep both himself and his mind in check. The purple-skinned man's lips curled devilishly, finding himself quite amused indeed with Arthur's confusion.
"Hahah… Well, a lot did happen that day. It was a park clean up event, after all… I suppose I shouldn't fault a pauper like you too much..." The man stepped forward, his voice going deep and low as he approached the young man. Despite the fact that Arthur slightly towered over the man, a pang of fear still hit Arthur on his approach.
The situation he had found himself in, the gunfight he had just bore witness to, the inhuman-looking security officials. Even the pain in his gut remained. It was all so much, too much, for him to bear in one instance that he couldn't help but stumble backwards to try and put distance between himself and this rather lecherous fellow.
"But I will say," The man said, snickering as Arthur fell back on his feet and landed rump-first on the hard bench behind him with a loud, strained huff. "You had such a hefty set of balls to scare off one of my big brothers. You should just count yourself lucky I hadn't marked you for death after that moment. You were too useful."
He looked Arthur up and down once more, leaning over to meet his eyes. A dark, sinister grin placated on his lips. "What's the matter?" He asked, noting Arthur's visible fear. "Where are those steel balls? Hmm?"
Meanwhile, Arthur's mind raced. Unsure of what this man was even referencing. He could hardly remember everything for the past couple weeks - a consequence of his assault. Let alone much that has happened over his time in Tokyo. It has been filled with both stress and quiet contemplation over the supernatural that was occasionally broken up by Ann and Ichisake's welcome interference.
With Makoto's unwelcoming presence occasionally rearing its head as well.
"P-park clean up…?" Arthur murmured, unsure. He remembered the day well - the day that Makoto had tried, in her own way, to interrogate him. He remembered Dr. Maruki having been at the event as well, either blissfully or willingly ignoring his cult of fawning girls. He remembered getting irritated with Ichisake for spreading rumors of Makoto, and he remembered Ann ambushed him on his way home and ate a sugary lunch with him.
That was all he remembered. But he was having a harder time picturing himself being accosted by a thug.
Instead, he could only faintly remember that fateful, raining afternoon.
And the gunfire that had followed…
"T-threaten…?" Arthur then asked himself, finding the evil, yellow-eyed gaze of this obvious maniac more than unsettling. Indeed, it frightened him to the very core of his being.
He tried his best… Tried everything he could to recount that day…
Then, suddenly, his eyes went wide as the memory entered his mind.
Memories of a stiff, unpleasant man sitting outside the apartment he calls home.
Memories of the very same man that had accosted him outside Shujin, only to meet his fate in an alley at the hands of Arthur's unknown rescuer.
Memories of him prodding Arthur for information.
And memories of him attempting to intimidate Arthur…
Although the memory was hazy as is, he could remember having placed a free hand in his pocket - gripping his phone tightly in the event he needed to dial the local authorities.
And he also remembers the thug having backed off afterwards, suddenly wary and looking as if he felt slightly threatened.
"So that's why…" Arthur told himself, realizing now that the thug believed him to be armed.
"You're yakuza…" Arthur told the man quietly, his voice trembling as the realization popped into his head. "That guy… he worked for you… and now he's-"
"A perfectly good and loyal big brother." The man replied, retreating from Arthur's personal space with a suddenly annoyed frown on his face. "Iced. All because of a little, dumb yankee and his bigger but dumber guardian… Who woulda thunk it?"
"Guardian…?"Arthur gasped, everything forming a cohesive line of logic within his mind. It was all coming together for him now, and he didn't like what he was beginning to realize. "Y-you mean… Himura?!"
The man blinked, clasping his hands behind his back as two security officers approached them. Weapons in hand.
"Oh my God…" Arthur gulped, scrambling back up onto his feet as the realization came upon him. "I-I get it now… You're that Kaneshiro guy.." Arthur rose a single, shaky, accusatory finger towards the man he now knew as Kaneshiro. All the while Kaneshiro grinned a deep, self-satisfactory smirk. "The one who's causing all that trouble in Shibuya..… and…"
"All coming together now?" Kaneshiro asked, chuckling as the fright in Arthur's eyes grew and grew by the second. All the while Arthur stuttered and stammered, unsure exactly of what to say or what to even do.
"Himura, what the fuck did you do…?!" Arthur asked himself, glancing between the security officers behind Kaneshiro. "L-l-listen! I don't know wha-"
"You owe me blood, kid." Kaneshiro silenced him, his demeanor shrinking into seriousness. "For you." He pointed at Arthur. "This isn't about your dumbass guardian's debt. This is about you getting one of my guys - my best debt collector, too - iced."
"Debt…" Arthur asked himself.
Arthur was silent for only a second, sweat slowly dribbling down his forehead as he processed everything that was being said. His brain needed not a moment more, and he quickly lifted his hands defensively. "Wait, what?!" Arthur shouted, realizing exactly what was about to happen. "No, no! I didn't kill him!"
"It doesn't matter." Kanshiro shrugged off Arthur's words, jerking his head to the side as he motioned for one of the security officers to step forward. "You're one of two people that needed to be dealt with anyways. But my guys couldn't touch you in public." He added, with one of his guards putting a single foot forward. "But since you're here…"
Arthur gulped. "W-wait wait wait!" Arthur held his hands higher, shouting aloud for all to hear. "W-what-What-"
"The time for talking is over, kid." Kaneshiro turned away with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "When you get to Hell, tell my guy that he's still on the clock down there, alright? There's no slacking off when there's money to be made."
Kaneshiro looked the guard in the eye and gave a simple, affirming nod of his head. "Make it clean." He ordered.
The guard nodded, turning his attention to Arthur as Kaneshiro slowly waddled away, a sudden cackle squeaking from between his filthy lips and echoing in the busy lobby as the other security officer trailed behind him. "Farewell, yankee!" Kaneshiro called out, mocking Arthur with another loud snicker.
"On your knees." The guard ordered. Arthur gulped, hesitant to even comply. He just looked up at the guard, shaking and sweating but the guard, annoyed with Arthur's noncompliance, leveled his weapon - his voice growing more and more agitated by the second. "On your knees!"
"If thou dost nothing, then thou shalt truly perish!" A familiar voice called out to Arthur, startling him further. "If thou wisheth to survive this cruel and unjust reality, thou must taketh action now!"
Arthur gulped, realizing that whoever this disembodied voice was was right. If he did nothing, he would die. That much would be certain. The idea that this was all a dream was phoney and moot, and he knew it well. There would be no second chances, no wake up calls in the dawn, and no jolts to the present. He would die and that would be it.
Be even so, he was hesitant. He wasn't sure what to do, how to handle this. He's been in a few fist fights in his day, but the stakes here if he failed were higher than he was willing to bet.
The security officer approached with another step forward, another demand flying past his lips. The disembodied voice responded in kind, although it was clear only Arthur could yet hear him.
"Now! Act now!"
Arthur grunted, doing the only thing he could immediately think of. With a sharp shout and a swift strike, he slapped the gun right out of the guard's hands - shocking him with a loud and surprised gasp.
Arthur, following his instincts from the fight's he'd been in back home, didn't hesitate further. He quickly lunged forward at the baffled guard, shoulder checking the lanky official. The officer shouted in surprise, stumbling backwards and collapsing to the tile floor below, his equipment jingling and clattering - with his flashlight even coming loose and skidding away.
The guard, meanwhile, grunted and called out in unamused alarm. "You–you insolent pauper!"
Arthur took this moment to make a brief glance around the lobby, and it was then that he realized that all eyes were on him. From security staff to bank tellers, ATMs and Kaneshiro himself. Watching in surprise, his eyes both amused and startled.
And his exit to the outside world was blocked by a trio of guards, their eyes on him in both silence and anger.
Arthur knew, at that very second, that all he could do was run.
It was all so swift.
All so dizzying.
His flight from the lobby in a scrambled, panicked manner.
Stumbling and tripping.
Grunting and heaving, one foot in front of the other as quickly as he could manage.
Shouts of alarm echoing from behind him.
Security officers shouting with their gravely, menacing voices. Speaking nothing but ill-intent.
"After him! Don't let him escape!" One had shouted aloud.
"President Kaneshiro has marked him for death! We cannot fail!" Another added, eliciting a quiet and frightened gulp from the young man.
His exit having been blocked, Arthur was forced to improvise his escape.
Although it was less of an organized retreat and more of a panicked, shattered route.
The guards had attempted to subdue him physically at first, but their tall and lanky bodies coupled with their rather obstructive equipment made for a clumsy form, and Arthur was able to easily dodge and weave between the lunges and swings the guards threw at him.
He managed to break into the employee-only area behind the tellers, swinging the door open with such force the glass panes nearby shuddered at his passing and, with a brief glance over his shoulder, he slammed the door shut and backed up when he realized that door wouldn't hold.
"Oh God, gotta get out of here!" Arthur told himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins and barely holding back the sheer panic he was feeling. "Where to go, where to go?!"
He looked around, wary of the human-like tellers and their frightened and alarmed gazes, and barely spotted a set of double doors at the far end of the room. He grunted, deciding that to be his only recourse.
He ran, breaking through the doors with his shoulder followed by a small cry of pain, but he didn't stop himself when he heard the door behind him open, followed by the loud clambering of his pursuers.
"Get back here, pauper!" One of the guards shouted, an order Arthur ignored as he fled down the corridor before him. "Dammit! Get the chief on the horn!"
Arthur knew that he had no time to spare. He needed to lose the officers and quickly. Every second he spent in the open was a second he put himself in more and more danger. He knew that they were armed and wouldn't hesitate to use them, but as he fled down the hallway, turning corners left and right and barely managing to surprise and avoid security on patrol and a few custodians, he eventually found himself in a large office room, desks, computers, chairs. Above him looked to be an overlook, with a banister separating what seemed to be a manager's office and the employee's workspace.
"A work room…?" Arthur asked himself, stopping briefly to get his bearings. His mind was moving fast, faster than he's felt in a while like the tiny microcomputer it was. "Where to go, where to go?" Arthur thought, knowing there was no immediate way up top.
"Stop right there!" Arthur jumped, turning about on his feet to spot a duo of guards who had been trailing him. One was bearing a handgun and the other a baton - held high above his head. "There is no escape!" They shouted almost in unison.
One of the guards halted, pressing against his earpiece while his comrade advanced, baton ready to strike. "The target's in Sector Five A, 2B! All units, converge! Converge!"
Arthur, not willing to give up just yet and knowing his fate if he did, reached out for the nearest desk and grabbed whatever he could manage, tossing anything and everything at the guards as he backed away. "Get back!"
Coffee mugs, keyboards, desk caddies. Anything and everything he could get his hands on went flying at his assailants. At one moment, he even chucked one mug so hard that it shattered against the guard's mask, knocking him to the floor in a frenzy as white smoke and ceramic shards flew in every direction.
"You punk!" The guard cried out, dropping his baton and cradling his mask, crying out in agony while his partner looked up at Arthur, growling.
"You will pay!" He shouted, leveling his firearm on Arthur.
"Oh fuck!" Arthur shouted, diving to the floor as quick as he could, a loud bang accompanying the swift dive.
And, rather nearby, Arthur could hear the swift approach of their backup.
Arthur, lying flat on his stomach, scrambled behind a desk, just barely avoiding another crack fired off at him. Covering his head, he sat up and shot a swift eye around, noticing an open doorway on the far side of the room to parts unknown, and Arthur knew immediately that that was his only route to take.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Arthur shouted, breaking into a swift and full sprint forward, another potshot whizzing by him and impacting a close-by water cooler. Dust and water caking him. "FUCK!" He covered his head, stumbling as he moved.
He reached the doorway, stopping only for a moment to grab a tight hold of the oozing water cooler and swiftly throwing it to the floor behind him in an effort to slow any pursuer down as he fled down this new pathway.
"Target's fleeing towards the Secondary Admin! Officer down, officer down!" His attacker called out behind him, his voice getting further and further distant as Arthur ran. "Cut him off!"
But Arthur didn't stop. Not with the threats being hurled at him, not with the distant sounds of a break-in alarm buzzing, and not with the fear of death looming in the back of his mind.
The resolve Arthur felt to get out of here felt like no other.
As if a voice within him was beckoning him to press on and locate his way out. Jolting him forward with a newfound courage the likes of which puzzled Arthur to some degree.
Arthur knew it to be false bravado in the face of the adverse.
But if it allowed him to survive, he would take it for now. Even though he knew the adrenaline would soon wear off.
And all that would remain would be the panic that would otherwise have stolen the show.
One foot in front of the other, until eventually Arthur stopped himself in a four-way intersection.
He glanced around, silent as a mouse and twice as jumpy, listening to his surroundings.
His breathing labored, the exertion he's forced on his body suddenly catching up with him. He looked over his shoulder, his mouth feeling both frozen and dry as he realized just how long he had been fleeing his pursuers.
"Goddamn, man…" Arthur huffed, falling over onto his knees. "What the fuck…. This ain't no goddamn dream…" He muttered, heaving as reality set in. "Those were real fucking guns… O-oh hell…"
He kept himself as silent as could be, lifting himself up as he realized that he could no longer hear boots or scratchy, angered calls to arms. The alarm bells still rang, but Arthur, with another wary look around himself, realized that - for the moment - he was alone.
No cameras. No security. No staff.
Just himself, a dark intersection leading off into three different forays unto the unknown, and a small desk in the corner. Something that looks to have been a security station, with papers, common stationary supplies, a computer that Arthur noticed to have been running a game of Solitaire, and more.
Arthur huffed, realizing he's still in danger. "Looks like they ran off to deal with me… But I can't stay here." He crossed his arms, approaching the computer slowly. "Maybe this can help me find the way out…"
Glancing around, he knew that even now he had very little time to waste. But with no idea as to where he was or how to escape this hellish nightmare of a bank, he knew that this was his only recourse for now. Jumping over the desk and sliding the chair to the side, he quickly closed out of the Solitaire game.
Only to be greeted by a bland logo and nonsensical name for a security company.
For a moment, Arthur scanned the desktop, but only found meaningless icons and descriptors.
"Security Notes… Shift Roster… Penpal note for… day shift…?!" Arthur arched a brow in swift confusion before ignoring it further. "Let's see… Let's see…. Map… Something?!" Arthur said as he scanned the desktop.
"Hold it right there!" Someone shouted, causing Arthur to jump in place. He darted his eyes forward, glancing around until they finally landed on the source.
A security official, with an assault rifle pointed directly at him.
"Hands in the air or I will shoot!"
"OK! OK!" Arthur exclaimed, doing as he was told without second thought, his hands shakily rising to his shoulders. "J-just don't shoot!"
"I do what President Kaneshiro orders!" The guard fired back, cackling as he took a knee - sights still trained the frightened American. "But President Kaneshiro wants to speak with you personally after the mess you've caused. Step out in the open, slowly!"
Arthur gulped, complying slowly as he shakily and warily stepped away from the desk.
"This is 14-9. I've cornered the target at Security Station Keshiki." The guard said, speaking into his radio. "Converge! Converge! Bring the President with you. How copy?"
"Understood, 14-9. We're just down the hall. Secure the target and wait for us. Over."
The guard nodded, alerting them that he would comply before rising back to his feet, his gravelly voice burning with both agitation and what seemed like anger. "On your knees, filthy American! Now! Hands behind your head! No sudden movements!"
Arthur nodded, slowly faltering to his knees as the security official quickly ran up on him, kicking him to the floor below, eliciting nothing but a pained grunt from young Arthur.
"You should've never come here, young man." The guard said, grabbing and twisting Arthur's hands behind his back. "Now, you gotta pay…"
"Pay?!" Arthur glanced over his shoulder, watching as the guard stepped over him - with a sickening clicking noise followed by the feeling of cold steel wrapping around his wrists. "You're working for a mobster! If anything, you're the criminal here!"
The guard chuckled, stepping off of Arthur as he retrieved his shouldered weapon. "I'm not the one who broke in here and assaulted the staff." He retorted, pressing a boot firmly onto the American's back, shoving him further onto the dirty floor. Arthur grunted, all the while the guard worked to restrain him. "I'll let the President decide what to do with you…"
"As you should." A familiar voice called out, freezing Arthur's blood as he quickly recognized the voice to be that of Kaneshiro. "Normally, I would want him killed right here and now… But I can't risk any of you rank-and-file screwing it up again."
Arthur struggled to look up, watching as Kaneshiro approached - a cadre of security officials in tow.
And Graham right alongside him.
As they entered the security station, the entourage moved quickly to secure each exit. Running over each other to ensure each pathway was blocked and covered, armed with shotguns, rifles, and pistols while Graham stayed close to Kaneshiro. A single baton swung in his grasp as he sauntered slowly behind the mob boss. It was clear that they didn't want to risk Arthur escaping once more.
The purple-skinned Kaneshiro approached, glaring down at Arthur with an angry, wicked frown that spoke volumes of how he felt, of how disgusted and downright pissed off he was; not just at Arthur, but in his own security forces. Each step he took, each waddle he put forth, almost shook the ground around him. His anger was so palpable that even Graham - the towering brute of a man, made sure to keep some distance. The guard standing over Arthur winced, shakily eeking out a mewl of a response - his aggression and loyalty sizzling into nothing but fear at the hands of his boss.
"Of course, President Kaneshiro. It won't happen again…" He whimpered, drawing more and more of Kaneshiro's ire. The mobster looked up at him, growling and leering almost rabidly.
"You're right. It won't." Kaneshiro stopped himself halfway, pointing at the security official. "Because if it does, I'll have you all decimated!" He angrily declared before throwing his arm in the air. "Well?! Stand him up! I don't have all day!"
The guard stuttered a moment before complying. "O-of course, President Kaneshiro!"
The guard stepped forward, grabbing Arthur by his jacket collar and yanking him up onto his feet with a loud grunt - the sudden force knocking some air from the American's lungs all the while Kaneshiro turned his attention to his staff.
"I'm disappointed in you all!" Kaneshiro shouted aloud, pivoting on his feet as he looked each of his employees in the eye. They all, in turn, looked at him, and it was visible even from Arthur's position that they were afraid. He blinked, watching as the mob boss tore into them next. "Letting a measly single rat escape your clutches and evade you for so long!" He turned back, looking Arthur dead in the eye, seeing nothing but red. "Stand him up straight!"
"Yes, President Kaneshiro!" The guard obeyed, holding Arthur tight by his arms as Kaneshiro clenched a fist by his side.
And, in a flash, he struck Arthur as hard as he could manage - shocking the young man as he shouted out in both surprise and pain. He stumbled to his side, faltering slightly but was quickly caught and righted by his captor.
"Do you know what this is?!" Kaneshiro called out, shaking his hand as he turned towards Graham. But Graham had no words. He simply shook his head, and allowed Kaneshiro to continue uninterrupted. "It's embarrassing is what it is! What do I even pay you all for?!" He turned and looked back at Arthur, glaring into his soul, heaving with the anger and rage he felt. Arthur couldn't help but gulp. "Rest assured…" Kaneshiro shouted as Arthur braced himself, watching Kaneshiro's fists closely.
"W-wait!" Arthur tried to stop him, but to no avail. Kaneshiro was quick to silence the young man with another blow to chin, knocking Arthur's lights out in a bright white flash, if only for a brief second. He felt his knees hit the tile floor below, and heard himself shout in agony as his jaw throbbed from the sudden assault.
"...I will hold someone accountable for this!" Kaneshiro finished. "Stand him back up!" Kaneshiro ordered once more, to which the guard didn't even respond.
Standing Arthur back up onto his feet, Kaneshiro lashed out once more. Striking him once, twice, a third time, over and over as he worked his rage and fury out on the young American. Over and over, Arthur grunted and gasped, heaved and wheezed as Kaneshiro lashed out. Striking him in the gut, in the chin, across the cheeks, over and over until Arthur felt nothing but anguish.
He faltered once more, leaning down as he cried out in anguish as the smattering daggers of agony bit into his nerves while a distinct warm feeling began trickling down his lips.
Kaneshiro raised his hand again, and Arthur opened his eyes, trying his best to resist and defend himself. But it was to no avail. He struggled hard, but the guard behind him only tightened his grip on the young man.
Kanshiro swung once more, all of his effort and strength thrown behind one single blow. Striking Arthur as hard as he could, he sent him reeling and stumbling out of the guard's grip. He fell to the side, tripping and collapsing on his own weight as he cried out in surprise.
Followed by a heavy gasp as the tile floor knocked all he had left out of him. All that remained was the prone, mewling form of young Arthur as he laid there, coughing and gasping for the precious air that he was robbed of.
Blood trickled down his lips.
Vision blurred from the sudden berating he just withstood.
And occasional twitches as his body struggled to register all that had just happened - his adrenaline finally vanishing into the night.
Kaneshiro huffed, clasping his hands together as he beheld what he had just done. "Hmph." He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of air as he then ran his hands slowly through his greasy hair, evidently calming himself from the frenzy he had just experienced.
The guard looked at him, taking his weapon into his own hands as he spoke. "Shall I do the honors, sir?"
"No." Kaneshiro held his hand up, stopping him. "I can't trust you to actually do what I pay you to do, apparently." He added, looking over to where Graham stood; seemingly pleased with himself. "Officer Graham. Your sidearm, if you will?"
Arthur locked up, glancing as best he could towards the sinister mob boss. Through bloodied and blurred vision, he watched as the security captain approached the mobster slowly, unholstering his weapon meanwhile.
"Sir." Graham said, offering the weapon to the man. Kaneshiro took it, inspecting it briefly as he looked down the sights and made sure it was fully loaded. He smiled as his eyes turned on Arthur, a wicked appreciation of his own work.
"Oooh…" He hummed as he looked back up at Graham. "It's been a while since I ever pulled the trigger… But sometimes…" He pulled back on the slide, chuckling deeply. "...If you want it done right, you gotta do it yourself…"
He turned his eyes back on Arthur, and noted that the kid was looking back at him. A small pittance of blood forming where his lips touched the floor. He shook his head, finding the pathetic stare Arthur gave him rather amusing. "Every generation is filled with the idiocy of youth." He idly noted, tapping his forehead with the pistol's barrel as he approached. "Honestly, kid, what did you think you were going to accomplish coming here?"
"H-huh…?" Arthur managed to grunt out, unsure of how to answer. His energy was totaled by this point, and he watched quietly as the mobster approached him. His shoes clacking against the tile, his head cocked to the side as if he were genuinely curious as to Arthur's intentions.
But Arthur knew he was done for. His hands were cuffed, his energy drained, his adrenaline leaving him.
All that remained was the agony, the bleeding, and his exhaustion.
"Thou shalt die." The voice that has dogged Arthur for some time now called out to him. But Arthur closed his eyes, huffing as he rolled onto his back.
"I know."
"If thou do nothing. Thou shalt die." The voice said once more, declaring his expiration as a certainty.
But Arthur's answer remained.
"I know."
He then opened his eyes, and was not in the least bit surprised to see himself staring down the barrel of Kaneshiro's firearm.
Beyond, he could see Kaneshiro smirking.
He knew he had won.
"Well, kid." Kaneshiro said. "It looks like it's the end of the line for you…"
Arthur didn't even blink. He knew any resistance was futile at this point. He had fought as best he could, but a young American like him stood no chance against whatever he had found himself in. He knew that well, and inside, he now believed that he knew it from the beginning.
And that he just ignored it, hoping to find some way out of this nightmare that was now his reality.
Arthur gulped. Waiting for it all to end.
"You're probably wondering if there is going to be some form of justice in this world, huh?" Kaneshiro noted, cocking his head as he watched the young man from behind his sights. "But let me impart this last bit of wisdom onto you, pauper: There is no justice in the world."
"Is death not thine wish?"
"Huh?!" Arthur gasped, watching the flapping lips on this sinister villain suddenly halt in place, his words fading into obscurity as silence began to overtake the room. Arthur blinked, eyes widened in an exhaustive surprise as he turned his gaze over to Graham.
The baton he had been swinging was frozen in place, floating midair from his grasp as he watched. Himself, too, seemingly lost in time's clutches.
The familiar feeling of the frigid returned - one he had begun to associate with The Velvet Room. His own breath, as meek and untempered it was, was visible from where he laid. And the warmth that blurred the lines between cognitive and dream faded from his mind.
Everything felt like the day he walked home in the rain, after having given his umbrella to a damsel in distress.
He gulped, unsure of what was to happen next.
"Just let me die…" Arthur moaned, unsure if Kaneshiro could even hear him. But the unseen voice growled, almost as an inhuman grunt of a demon.
"Is this it, then?" It asked, to which Arthur arched a brow, unsure of what it was asking.
"What do you mean?" Arthur responded, a lone tear strolling down his cheek. A single reminder of the reality he now faced.
"A year ago. Thou attempted the most grievous of sins." The voice said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "An attempt to rob thineself of God's greatest gift to mankind: Life."
Arthur gulped. Memories flooding back to him.
Memories he'd rather forget.
Vision of a noose.
Tears
Blue lips.
Flashes of darkness, chipping away at light and sound.
Death calling.
And a man that Arthur called friend, bursting in in his final moments.
"An attempt that will scar thineself for all eternity - a sin thou shalt never rid thineself of - a coup d'etat of your very own morality." The voice added, as if it were seeing what he was now seeing. As if it were in control of everything Arthur was remembering. "But thou went through all the trouble to make the necessary preparations… Is death not thine wish..?"
"No…" Arthur responded without hesitation. "It was a mistake." Arthur added before closing his eyes, a lone tear strolling down his cheeks. "But what am I to do now? I'm trapped, cornered, and dancing with the reaper… I've run from him long enough. So just let me die…"
"The miscreant is right. There art no justice." The voice agreed. "Our mother - a fiendish jackal with years to answer for her crimes. Our father - a coward of a man and a user of the devil drink. Fetid parents, bringing us into a world of cattle and sheep, slaughtered by the wolves of the elite and the unjust! Cast aside by society, thrown away into the dregs as garbage for mistakes of a time passed!" The disembodied voice then ranted, growing angrier and more and more vicious with each word that danced in Arthur's ears. "What hast thou to live for?!"
Arthur blinked, unsure of what all to say.
He answered with the only thing he could.
"Nothing…" He responded. "My parents hate me, my home cast me aside… All for a dumb mistake… Everyone thinks I'm crazy… I-I thought Japan was my chance to escape it all! But no! It followed me here! I don't know how, I don't know why, but it did… Now everyone here hates me as well…. To make it worse, the mob is gunning for me and Himura and I don't even understand why! So, yeah, you're right! I have no reason to live! My life sucks! I'd be better off dead…"
The voice fell silent for a brief moment, as if taking in the full brunt of Arthur's response. Time remained still, so much so that Arthur suddenly became frightened. The agonizing silence he was met with only served to bring forth anxiety. Anxiety of waiting. He stared upwards through the barrel of Kaneshiro's pistol, and the warm feeling of fear set in. Anxiety and fright born from not knowing what was to happen next, and just when he believed the voice would leave him to his fate, it returned once more.
Calmer and more compassionate than before.
"Then why don't we create a reason?"
Arthur paused, unsure of what to say, what to ask. This voice has been dogging him for weeks now, almost since his arrival in Tokyo. He's heard it call out to him, instruct him, relay information to him.
At one point, he could've sworn the owner appeared before him in a ball of azure flame, reaching out to him in a beckoning that only terrified him and continued to do so even now.
Now it was shouting at him, demanding a reason to live. It was almost as if it was begetting more thoughts of suicide. Encouraging the mistake of his past.
Arthur clenched his teeth shut, demanding an answer that has evaded him since what felt like time immemorial.
"Who are you?!" He shouted aloud, a sudden burst of energy breaking through the chiseled block of exhaustion that had made it's den in his mind.
The voice didn't answer, but instead the voice spoke over the question posed to him with a query of his own.
"All I need to know is this: Our conflict shalt not be over at this moment in time, but what about Himura?"
Arthur blinked, unsure of what to say.
"What about him?" He asked, but received no answer.
"What about our mother?" The voice added, to which Arthur responded swiftly.
"What about her?"
"...The miscreant who spreads the vile rumors, tainting your good name, your character, for a purpose that can only be satanic…?"
"What are you asking?!" Arthur blinked once more, rage beginning to burn on his lips with each response he gave.
"The weak art trod upon, cast down by society, and art expected to forgive thine wrongdoers." The voice responded, as if this was just another everyday fact one could learn in school. "They are expected to accepteth the pain and the misery. Never to seeketh retribution. Never to find solace in claiming their just due."
Arthur didn't respond.
"Thou art expected to lick clean the boot of the unjust, and smile all the while." It then explained, it's voice growing vicious and disgusted as the minute passages of time dragged on in Arthur's mind. "Doest thou not wish reprisal upon those dogs?"
Arthur's eyes opened wide. "Huh…?"
"Reprisal. Retribution." The voice explained, almost casual-like. "Vengeance, required by the Bible for the heinous crimes committed against thou and thine own. With a simple vow, thine own desire for revenge shalt be met. With a simple response, thou shalt be able to turn the tide against your assailant, against all who hath done thou wrong. And, perhaps, even fate Herself…"
Arthur huffed, the word "revenge" almost as foreign to him as the customs of this distant, eastern land.
"Revenge…?" Arthur asked himself, unsure of what to make of the idea. He had never before considered doing to his abusers what they had done unto him…
The voice apparently knew this well, and chuckled at Arthur's oblivion to the word.
"With my aid, and with the wise hand of God at thine side, we can endeth this nonsense! We can enact His holy will! We can battle the unjust, starting with this heathen and his demons! All thou hast to to do is ask."
Arthur huffed, turning his gaze onto Kaneshiro. For a moment, all he saw was a purple-skinned maniac, rocking a goofy haircut and a stupid mustache. Holding him at gunpoint, and midconversation. In no nightmare of Arthur's could he ever declare that this man could do the world so much harm and so much evil.
But then he reminded himself, as he looked him in the eye, of the suffering he has caused not only to himself, but to Himura and Shibuya as well.
He closed his eyes, imagining Himura back when he was younger. Himura was so full of life and childlike wonder, even though now he was in his middle-aged years. Himura was like an uncle to Arthur in many ways except blood. He was fun, open to adventure, and got along with everyone. It would've been mental suicide to imagine a single person who didn't like Himura.
But then those thoughts quickly dissipated.
And were instead replaced by memories of the thug that had accosted Arthur both outside the apartment and outside school.
He remembered the maniac well, for he had almost lost his life to him.
Those images were soon replaced by images of that thug accosting Himura himself, taking him to the ground. Beating him with the grip of the pistol, stabbing him in the gut, robbing him of everything he owned. Blood pouring from the wounds, and the happy-go-lucky businessman crying out to the world "Why?!"
Arthur grunted, gritting his teeth as rage began to set in.
These thoughts angered him.
More so than any anger he's felt in a long, long time.
Himura didn't deserve what the yakuza was planning for him.
And it was here that Arthur realized that this disembodied voice was right.
His eyes shot open, a sudden glare dawning that would melt a hole through anything Arthur chose, and he responded.
"I don't want to die here." Arthur responded finally, with a tone he wanted to shout aloud for all to hear. Somewhere within him, he felt a resolve that even he couldn't explain. "I want to punish these yakuza bastards… I want to punish them for what they've done to me, and what they're doing to Himura… Furthermore, you're right. I am so tired of being put down! My parents, those fucking rumors, all of it! I'm tired of it! It's unfair, and I've done nothing in my lifetime to warrant this fresh fucking hell! I don't know the hell you are - Satan? Jesus? Some alien lizard motherfucker from beyond the stars? I don't know and I don't care! But you're right!"
"I shouldn't die here. I can't die here! Not while Himura suffers at the ends of this evil, and not while my own mother has yet to answer for her crimes! Not while someone at Shujin ruins the good image of others, and certainly not while this "Junya Kaneshiro" piece of shit ruins the countless lives of others with his evil ways! I refuse to die while they still hurt others!"
Arthur looked up, staring Kaneshiro dead in the eyes as declared his intentions.
"I will stop you!" Arthur shouted out into the aether. "Fuck you!" He added before looking around, attempting to spot the owner of this voice once and for all. "If whatever you offer can get me out of this, if it can stop the yakuza in their tracks, if it can turn the tables on my mother, and if it can save Himura, then do it! Help me!"
The voice fell silent a moment, all the while the menacing approach of death itself neared. Arthur could feel time resuming. The cold he felt that pricked at his skin vanished, replaced with the warm air of the bank that he was trapped in.
Kaneshiro lips began to flap once more, with indistinguishable taunts fluttering by and falling upon deaf, enraged ears.
And Graham caught his baton, twirling it between his fingers as he watched with what Arthur could only assume was glee.
The voice called back, this time donning a new - no, an old - accent that was all too familiar to the young American.
"T'is a sin to make a deal with the devil…" The voice chuckled, remarking on Arthur's near blasphemous response. "However, I am no devil… And that's all I needed to hear, my ol' mucker."
Arthur's eyed widened, crying out in surprise as a sudden burst of energy jolted through him.
Then, as if on cue, a sudden blast of force surrounded him. The guards cried out in surprise, watching as the tile floor around Arthur trembled and cracked.
"What the…?!" One guard shouted in surprise, taking a cautious step away from the young American.
"Holy hell, this isn't normal!" Another cried out.
Kaneshiro lowered his firearm, following in their footsteps as he, too, fell a cautionary step back. "What on earth….?"
"Thou hath made me waiteth..." The voice then called out, sparking a sudden gasp to escape from Arthur's lips. "For far too long…."
Arthur's glare widened.
He froze.
A sudden piercing trauma brewing within his skull.
And that trauma quickly sprouted into a full-on assault on the mind.
Kaneshiro's eyes widened, watching as Arthur jolted upright, crying out from the sudden, traumatic piercing of his mind. "Hu-OAAAH?!" Kaneshiro cried out in surprise, a large blast of wind sending him flying across the room.
He landed and skidded, bounced and rolled. Nearly toppling a couple of his guards feet away.
Graham gasped, fumbling to catch his baton as he watched the ground tremble around Arthur's prone form.
"All of thine life, thou hath sat quietly in the dark." The voice spoke, it's accent transitioning slowly from American to the accent of the Northern Irish. The Archaic English gradually becoming a thing of the past with each passing word.
"Agh…. Grerr…." Arthur grunted, the pain he was experiencing growing swiftly in both deep depth and sharp measure. "Uh… God…" Arthur winced, growing unable to bear the stabbing pain rupturing within his head. Rising his hands to his scalp, he gripped tightly as the assault turned into a jabbing stake of internal unrest.
"Cast aside by society for a mistake thou recognizeth. Cast aside by thine own family. By thine own homeland. By Japan itself…."
He gritted his teeth, bearing with it a moment as he attempted to bide his time. His attacker looked on, curious as to what exactly was occurring. All the while Arthur's green eyes mutated.
Shifting into a bright, brilliant, and awing gold.
And with that transition came another callout formed.
"Thou smiles and claims an inner peace, remarking to all thine's hefty and false composition of happiness. Thou hideth behind a false veil of pragmatism, hoping to spurn others from thine company." It said, all the while Arthur's grunts transmuted into agonizing mewls of pain and misery. "All of it, t'is but a lie. A ragged mask, one that thou holdeth outwardly to, what? Defendeth thinself from the dangers of this cruel and unjust world?"
Arthur gazed up, clenching his eyes tightly as his agony overflowed and filled even his soul to a tipping point. He struggled and fought against the cuffs that bound him, crying and coughing, with blood dripping past his lips.
"T'is a lie. Thou must recognizeth it."
Arthur, in a display of strength that he had never before experienced, burst through the cuffs, shards of metal flying in every direction as he quickly moved to coddle his skull. Screaming in terror as each word spoken to him sparked more and more convulsions of torture within him.
"AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Huh?!" His attackers gasped almost in unison, watching from their positions as Arthur spasmed and convulsed.
Graham grabbed Kaneshiro by his arms, attempting to help him up. But Kaneshiro quickly threw him off, his eyes widened in fear and terror as he beheld the nightmare before.
"What the…. Not you too!" Kaneshiro cried out, staggering to his feet as swiftly as he could.
Arthur attempted to get back to his feet, but the seering anguish he felt diminished even the tiniest hope he had to gain his balance. He stumbled, the sheer terror and massive trauma burning as brightly as his logic as he grunted and groaned, trembling in place while the voice reared its head again.
"Everyday, the weak art trod into the dirt, forced into pain and misery at the whims of the unjust elite and powerful."
The voice sounded physical now, and he dared to open his eyes.
Greeted simply by a reflection in the tile floor below.
A familiar, frightening sight stood there, standing there in the metaphysical, arms crossed, a disapproving glare donning his young face. Eyes, golden and inhuman, exchanging its disapproving glare with Arthur.
"Just like thou." It then said, nodding his head towards Arthur.
It's voice, he now realized, was his own. Calling back to him, as it had been all this time.
This surprised him, but the torment each word brought forth stole the show. He quickly fell back to his knees, writhing and trembling as if something was trying to escape from within him.
Arthur screamed aloud - begging for it to stop. He collapsed onto his side, clawing at his skull with nails that only grew red and wet with each second that passed on by.
And blood, dripping from his hair, stained the white tile around him.
"But thine own suffering need not be reality." His reflection said, placing his hand on its side of the reflective tile, watching as Arthur spasmed and foamed at the mouth, terrorized and half-dead. "The Bible's most holiest of commandments art this: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. God hath decreed revenge upon those who hath wronged thine and thine own…"
It stepped closer, it's glare softening into an accepting gaze. "And with thine plea, we can form our contract."
Arthur's attackers backed away - all quickly understanding what was happening. Fear was beginning to overtake them all as some began to flee for their lives back the way they came. Arthur, through bloodied, agonized vision, glanced up and saw Kaneshiro standing there. His mouth agape and his hands shaking as he shuffled away. Graham stood before him, watching like the loyal dog he was.
Arthur growled, but that growl was soon diminished as he fell onto his back, erupting into what seemed like a full seizure, spasming and crying, screaming in agony and pain as the battle within him grew worse and worse.
"I am thou, and thou art I…"
Arthur watched, in the corner of his vision, as the reflection spoke those words justly, it's gaze burying itself within his own soul.
"Thou hast allowed thineself pain and misery for far too long," The reflection shook its head, before raising it's voice for Arthur to hear in clarity. "Now riseth from thine own ashes, my dear fated shogun, and carry out God's righteous will upon all evil in the here-and-now!" It screamed forward, vanishing from sight as his vision darkened and shined with a blue hue that shined so brightly he was forced to clench shut his eyes
And then, in a flash, it was gone.
The pain.
The tremors.
The spasms and the agony that came with them.
All gone, like a thief in the night.
And all he did was groan, holding his head as if he had expected it to return.
But it didn't.
Instead, he felt something that replaced that feeling.
An odd, heavy, cold feeling that dawned over his strained, quiet eyes. And suddenly, he found it hard to breathe through his own nose, as if something heavy was blocking any and all air intake.
He sat up, cautiously opening his eyes. He had expected himself to be dead, or worse, with the pain, the terror, that invaded him only moments prior. To have it all vanish so quickly felt as if death itself had overcome him.
But he was still there, and when he looked down at his hands, he grunted in shock at the blood that stained the tips of his fingers.
All the while what remained of his captors stirred in their shoes cautiously and frightened, stirring their voices with questions such as "What just happened?" or "What do we do? What the fuck do we do?!"
"Huh..?!" Arthur gasped, noticing a sudden dark outline in his vision. Cutting off his view of his peripheral, and indeed even the bridge of his nose. He turned towards the shiny tile mirror, unsure of what he was seeing.
And upon his face sat a pitch, black, cast iron mask, with golden eye holes and rivets plastered around the edges and sealing a cast iron noseguard tight over his nose.
He gasped, unsure of where he got it or why he was wearing it. And attempted to remove it. But it didn't budge. He tugged at it, harder and harder, but each time he pulled he felt a sharp inkling of pins pressing into the flesh around his eyes.
But he didn't relent. Something told him he must have the mask off, and he obeyed. He tugged and tugged, eventually bringing his other hand up and, with the added strength, he pulled once more.
And just like that, he screeched into the air, tearing the mask from his face in a violent, bloody bath of flesh, blood, pus, and agony.
The red paint sprayed in every direction, upon the sinks, the mirror, even splattering upon one of his nearby captors in a gory display.
And Arthur was swiftly engulfed in blue fire.
"REEEEEEAAAAAAAAAGH!"
The flames covered him head to toe, scorching him from the inside out, the blood-drenched mask vanishing from his hands. It had faded into nothing but gold and blue sparks, combining with the flames, forming something new, something incomprehensible to the assailant, all the while he staggered slowly to his feet, grunting as he beheld what was before.
All the while his gore-stained captor cried out in terror, dropping his weapon and fleeing the scene as quickly as his legs could carry him.
The flames quickly spread from head to toe, burning him inside and out, encasing him in an azure inferno the likes of which Arthur had never thought to experience. All the while Arthur silenced himself, drooping over into a slump as a sickening, thirsty grin formed on his lips.
The fire split from him, forming another figure behind him, towering over Arthur by several feet, overshadowing him as a form began to appear while a laugh was heard.
The engulfed American righted his posture, standing up straight and chuckling in unison with his own, ghostly voice. He then turned, facing Kaneshiro and what remained of his security force, laughing - cackling more like - as a sudden power coursed through his veins.
It was like adrenaline, but better.
It was like a new high had entered his body, unlike any he had ever felt before.
And it felt awesome.
His captors only watched, fear overtaking them all as they began to realize what exactly had just happened.
From there, the flames faded, visibly burning out. Both Arthur and his specter took visible form, with Arthur stomping forward, one fist clenched tightly while another gripped the hilt of something sharp, something familiar - He donned a black and brown steel dou, protected by a scaled kusazuri underneath of which was pitch black kimono and that was seemingly personalized with an equally black hood and facewrap that hid his features well. His left arm lacked a sleeve, while his right one was paired with a dark glove.
Strapped across his waist was a sheath he was all too familiar with, and resting in the midnight scabbard was a pointed fencing sword that he had spent his High School days in America training with. The hilt decorated with lions and dragons, the pommel an awe inspiring crystal clear gem.
On his sleeved shoulder sat a more unimposing weapon: a small dagger sheathed in an equally intricate scabbard.
His trousers were an equal shade of dark, tight with riveted shin and leg guards dominating the length of the legs. And upon his feet, he donned dark steel sabatons.
"Heheh…" Arthur chuckled, gripping the hilt of his blade with a tight grip. "The thing is, you're right." Arthur said, nodding in agreement as he turned his eyes up towards Kaneshiro. A wicked smile dawning on his lips. "There is no justice in this world."
His opponents righted themselves, aware of what was to come. All the while, Kaneshiro frowned, lowering his gaze in a fiery anger at Arthur's new impudence.
Even more so, with Arthur using his own words in defiance.
"But that is what I will seek to fix." Arthur added, a smug smile hidden beneath his facewrap. There was a sudden brand new confidence in his eyes, as if a hidden strength had been awoken this very moment. His green eyes glaring a determined look, burning into the villain before him. "I'm not going to hide from these problems anymore. I'm not going to shy away from all that is wrong with this world! I am scarred, and I am traumatized - but that will be my strength." Arthur added, a distinct conviction held within his voice. "I'm going to stamp out evil wherever I can find it, however I am able… So that no one must suffer like I have any longer!"
From behind him stepped a menacing, towering figure, hidden within a soft, blue outline, bearing a soft, ivory kabuto with a crucifix fixated atop the skull, and a snow-white angelic kami mask. The towering being donned a heavenly-white colored garb of scaled armor and an equally pure kimono, with shin guards, leg guards, gloves, and sabatons completing the whole look In one hand, there sat a sharp, menacing katana - dripping the blood of the slain. In the other, a flag standard bearing the insignia of Catholicism.
"...Even if it kills me."
It stood next to Arthur, as if they had known one another since the dawn of time. As if they were brothers, yet not all the same. As if they had waited for this moment all of their lives.
It was an imposing figure, glaring from behind the soulless, angelic kami mask. Black eye holes, watching Arthur's attackers with anger and hate boiling within. It desired vengeance, and wished to begin with Kaneshiro himself.
A Persona of holy might.
"The battle in my mind is far from over." Arthur declared, drawing his blade slowly, smiling deeply as the sound of the scabbard's resistance found its way to his ears once more. He looked his attacker in the eye, and pointed the tip towards him in a direct challenge.
"But our battle?" He asked, placing his free arm gently behind his back as he readied himself into his old fencing stance. "It has just begun."
He looked over his shoulder, and smirked quietly.
"Let's do this," He shouted, mustering his renewed resolve and coupling it with his sudden burst of fury. "Shiro!"
"I am thou, thou art I…
Thou hast witnessed rebellion in its birth."
"This birth - born from a life of oppression -
shalt live and prosper under Vengeance's name."
"Thou hast garnered a glimpse to the true power of the Guardian,
Granting thee the ability to safely gaze into the abyss of Humanity's darkness…"
Guardian Description:
The Guardian is a troublesome but courageous tarot. Peaceful by nature, but zealous in his pursuit of justice against those who wrong him or his own. The Guardian shields those around him, taking unto himself every blow so those he cares for can live in peace and tranquility while quietly seeking his attackers out and extinguishing them secretly.
Persona Description:
Shiro was a teenage Japanese Catholic Samurai who lived during the Edo Period. Horrified by his Shogun's treatment of Japanese Catholics, he rose up in violent defiance with an army of followers. However, when he was betrayed by one of his own at the Siege of Hara Castle, he and his followers were defeated by a Dutch naval bombardment followed by a Japanese ground assault, and his head was mounted on a pike outside Nagasaki as a warning to all Christians what would happen if one stood against the Shogunate.
Post-Chapter Author's Note
Proof read and edited by Frozen Foe and Kabuto S. Inferno.