Chapter Four

Funk Goes On – Part 2

Anri rushed through the streets in a flurry, making sure the innocent bystanders were safe from the developing pogrom. She ushered them away from the places of more intense conflict as police officers finally arrived on the scene, holding up what thugs they could at gunpoint and arresting the few they could subdue. Some would try to jump her, taking for another bystander, but they were swiftly shown the truth as they were lain out on the street in no more than four strikes per thug.

Through the winding beachside streets, she ran and fought, though fighting was an overstatement. The few brash young men that thought they could take her easily, in every sense of the word depending on the assailant, they were swiftly dispatched, usually faster than they could realize what had actually happened. Some police attempted to either lead her to safety or stop and question her, but Anri ignored them at every turn. She could face any comer and defeat them handedly; she just needed to make sure her son was alright. She knew she likely need not worry for his physical wellbeing, as he was trained by her from the time he could walk, but she still needed to know he and his friends had not fallen afoul of, perhaps, one particularly devious thug who had brought a gun with him.

And as she fought, so did her son. The proud leader of the thugs they faced down quickly fell by Akira's hands with little more than a block, a grab, and two jabs to the throat followed by a strong kick. A smaller, wilier one of the group took a sucker punch to Akira while he was distracted, striking him directly in the side. Akira stumbled back for a moment, then cried out as he threw all his bodyweight forward and headbutted his assailant in the nose, shattering it and sending him to the ground.

While he fought, so did his friends with ferocity and tenacity to defend their home. Kanji was the first to come up with the idea of improvised weaponry, picking up a lawn chair on the side of the street and smashing it over a thug's head as he approached him, then spinning around and beating another that was trying to fight Yosuke. At each other's sides, with whatever skills or means they could muster, they all fought off the approaching thugs, using their greater numbers (and intelligence) to their advantage, which they pressed as they pushed forward down the street.

While it was true that Akira, Sumire, Kanji, and Ryuji took the brunt of the forward offensive, Makoto and Yu managed to work very well in a more supportive, defensive role. They surveyed their surroundings, directing and encouraging their friends where they could and fighting at their backs, intervening in scrapes for support rather than taking them head on. Makoto was particularly defensive of the girls, though Chie seemed to barely even notice as she charged toward anyone unlucky enough to be caught in her vision while threatening her friends, whereupon she would come down upon them like a wrathful beast, crying out all the while as she fearlessly struck down men easily twice her petite, compact size.

When they came through the wave, Akira seemed not even winded as he shook out his hand after decking a poor thug to the ground with a single punch. "Sounds like there's more of them ahead," he remarked.

"We should be cautious," Naoto warned. "We may not be so lucky if we continue like this haphazardly."

"We got numbers and strength!" Kanji declared. "And these guys don't seem to be anything near bright. We can probably take this whole gang on ourselves!"

"Even so," said Makoto, "we should tread carefully. We never know if one of them might be armed."

"Right," Narukami added. "Let's keep together and try not to piss anyone off unnecessarily."

"Don't shed a tear for 'em if they come at us first," Ryuji sneered.

They rounded a street corner and indeed saw more thugs ahead ransacking a small streetside business. "Oh no!" Yukiko exclaimed. "They're going after the Yatas' shop!"

"Like hell they are!" shouted Kanji. "The Yatas have had my mom's back since before I was born. I'll kick all their asses myself if they touched a single goddamn Buddha statue!" He roared and charged forward ahead of his friends, colliding with a very unfortunate younger thug that was very surprised at suddenly being flung face first into the pavement. Like a whirling, yelling tornado, he pummeled anyone in his way with his chair, using it as both a bludgeoning weapon and a shield. Not seeing any other recourse now that an all our brawl had just erupted before them, Akira and friends joined the fray as well, fighting with all their heart against the mostly surprisingly weak and young thugs and looters.

In the midst of the pogrom, they did not notice the ranks of the oncoming groups quickly thinning out. Fewer and fewer reinforcements joined the fight, and more and more groaning, barely conscious bodies lined the pavement. Akira was facing down an extremely fat thug and doing a perfect job of avoiding his strong but slow attacks, when suddenly his opponent was knocked from his feet when another, smaller thug was flung into him from his right flank. And lo, standing to their right was Anri, messed up hair flowing around her not dissimilar to how Akira's natural bedhead would often look.

"Uh, hey, Mom," Akira said awkwardly, standing up straight. "Having fun out here too?"

"Nothing fun about it," she snapped back, maintaining her serious composure.

"Right, sorry."

"Have you seen Kiyomi-san, Akira? Do you know if she's alright?"

"Haven't seen her, no. Was she in trouble?"

"Her bar got attacked while I was there. That's how I met these… cretins," she sneered down at the unconscious young men all around her. "Who the hell are these guys?"

"I have no idea. Haven't gotten a chance to question any of them yet."

"Are your friends alright?"

"Yeah, everyone is fine. Bastards were trying to go after the Yatas, and we managed to get here just in time. Doesn't look like anyone's worse for wear."

"You should check on the shop, make sure everyone is okay. I'm going to keep moving."

"Where are you going?"

"Wherever there's more thugs. Make sure no one is injured then get everyone back to the inn. Understood?"

Akira had his own reservations, which were obvious on his face, but he relinquished to his mother quickly. "Yeah, I got it. Just… be careful, Mom."

Anri nodded lightly. "You too. Now go." With that, she headed off down the street, leaving the young adults to inspect the shop.

The Yata General Store was a small brick and mortar establishment, with shelves lined with small canned and bagged food items as well as various household items and other odds and ends. One could obtain anything in stock at the Yatas' store just about anywhere else, especially at the Junes supermarket just a few minutes down the road by car, but it was the elderly couples endlessly kind and homely demeanor that had kept the store open for over forty years, with most locals perusing their stock at least once a week, if only to grab some snacks and chat with Satoru and his wife Miyoka. All this and more made it all the more hurtful to see the windows shattered inward, glass shards scattered on the floor.

Kanji rushed through the door, not caring to avoid any of the glass, though his shoes were luckily thick enough to avoid any injuries. "Hey, guys, you alright?" he called out. "It's Kanji Tatsumi! We took care of those assholes outside! Anyone home!?" There was some rumbling and shifting from behind the main counter, and out appeared a very scared elderly couple, but their fear waned slightly when they saw the decidedly less thuggish-looking young people in their doorway. "Oh, thank God," Kanji muttered, running over to help them. "You guys okay?" he asked, taking Miyoko by the arm with her husband.

"Yes, dear, we're fine," Miyoka said quietly, breathlessly. "You and your friends managed to come by right as those fiends were about to break through the windows. I can hardly imagine what they may have wanted here, but thank you so much for fending them off."

"Indeed, Kanji, thank you," said her husband, Satoru. "Feels almost like an act of providence that you showed up when you did."

"Don't go thanking us yet. Your shop is a mess."

"Glass can be replaced, Kanji," said Miyoka. "None of you can be."

"Guess you got me there. Hey! What are you guys standing around for?" he chided his friends. "Call a goddamn ambulance already!"

"Oh, right," Yosuke muttered. "There's a payphone around the corner. I'll get an ambulance over here. Things seem to have calmed down a bit out there." Yosuke exited the shop and hurried down the street.

From around the corner, Rise and Futaba caught up with them, having been following them from a distance as the way was cleared of enemies. "Oh, dear god," Rise muttered as she saw the shop.

Miyoka finally got a good luck at her saviors as she was led to the entrance by Kanji, carefully stepping to avoid the glass. "Oh my, Akira! You're home!" she exclaimed. "We thought we saw you through the window, but it really is you!"

"Picked a heck of a time to come, seems like. You two okay?"

"Uninjured, if that's what you're asking," said Satoru. "A bit rattled, but uninjured."

"That's great," Akira nodded. "I was worried when I saw them coming after your shop."

"Seems you brought the whole damn cavalry," Satoru looked to Akira's new friends. "Who are they?"

"Friends, companions, whatever you want to call them. They fought at my side all night."

"Well, then they're welcome to our shop anytime," Miyoka smiled warmly to them. "Just… whenever we get this place cleaned up."

"If there's anything we can do to help," said Makoto quickly, "we'll be happy to assist you."

"Well, aren't you a sweetheart? Just for that, I'll have a little gift ready for all of you when we reopen. Keep an eye for when that is and come on by."

Yosuke came back from around the corner. "Hey, looks like the police and ambulances are already on their way. They'll be here to check on you guys soon."

"Thank you, Yosuke," said Satoru. "It means a lot."

"Well, you are some of our favorite customers," Yosuke smiled. "Happy to be of assis—" Yosuke cut himself off when he noticed Akira looking back down the street at something, then stepped out of the shop and back onto the sidewalk.

"Hey," said Yu, "what are you-… Oh, shit."

"What is it?" asked Ryuji as they followed Akira outside. "What's going on?"

"Akira, what's gotten into you?" Ann asked worriedly, but Akira did not respond.

They followed his gaze across the street, and there was a lone young man with thick hair dyed dirty blonde, wearing an orange vest and trendy clothes underneath, as well as wraps around his hands.

"Who is that?" asked Yusuke.

"Akira, wait-!" Yu shouted, but Akira had already broken out into a sprint toward the young man, and his target did the same. They roared at each other before unleashing their own flurries of punches and kicks, each blow blocked with perfect precision. Their fighting was immediately ferocious, feeling far more personal than any lowly thug they had dispatched that night. They cried out with nearly every punch, kick, spin, block, and push, before they were locked together, grabbing each other's raised fists and glowering into each other's eyes.

"You got some pretty fucking big balls for coming back," Akira growled at his opponent.

"Funny," the young man sneered, "I was going to say the same to you."

Akira roared and pushed him away, followed by three more punches. They were all blocked, but his opponent was pushed back again. Akira welled up his strength to unleash a mighty blow, and in the back of his mind, he knew he was mere millimeters from his opponent's chest with his punch before what felt like the head of a mallet collided with his core in an instant. He had no idea what was happening, but his friends saw him fly backward off his feet, landing multiple feet back flat on the ground. The next thing he knew, he was looking up at the sky, desperately wheezing for breath as the wind had been entirely knocked out of him. His vision had blurred, his ears rung, and he clutched his chest as it throbbed with pain, unable to fill back up with air no matter how he tried to force it. His friends gathered around him, with Ryuji ready to strike at the assailant, but was held back to his utter shock by Narukami and Yosuke.

"You have no idea how good that felt, Kurusu," said the young man, shaking out his fist as he stood up. "Waited almost three years to do that."

Akira tried to say something, but only managed to roll over and vomit onto the pavement with an exasperated "Ah, god."

"Now that you know I'm here," he continued, "you can come find me whenever you're ready. We'll finally settle the score, you and me."

"Hell with that, asshole!" Ryuji exclaimed. "We can take you right here, right now!" Ryuji cried out and rushed toward the young man wildly. "TRY THIS ONE ON FOR—" The young man stepped to the side and raised his knee into Ryuji's chest as he pushed him down with his arms. Ryuji doubled over with a wheezing cough as the assailant stood over him, raised his fist, and brought it down on Ryuji's head, knocking him to the ground.

"RYUJI!" Haru cried out.

The young man cracked his neck to the side annoyedly. "Your friends aren't even worth it, Kurusu. But you know this is just between us." Police sirens in the distance, quickly, approaching, diverted his attention. He swept back his messed up blonde hair and turned on his heel. "Just like old times, Kurusu! One on one, whenever you find me!" And with that, he started to run off down the road.

Akira forced himself to his feet, blue glowing embers barely visible on his shoulders in the evening light, with his old friends mostly assuming they had to be seeing things. "That… bastard!" As if fully renewed from that shockingly strong punch, he took off in a sprint, ignoring the concerned cries of his friends. They tried to follow him, but he was far too quick, even with his injuries, razor focused on catching up to the assailant. "GET BACK HERE, MOTHERFUCKER!" he called out.

They weaved in and out of alleys along the streets, the assailant seeming to know the paths just as well as Akira. The handsome young man was taking care to avoid the police officers as they arrived on the scene, and this gave Akira some reference to predict where he would go next. But even with his rising Heat increasing his speed and reflexes, somehow, he could only barely keep up, and the injuries he had sustained began to sting his abdomen and lungs, sapping him of strength quickly. He was losing ground when suddenly a metal pipe came down from the rooftops above, narrowly missing the assailant and causing him to briefly stumble.

He got his footing quickly, and Akira briefly pulled his attention up to the rooftops. Above them, running at perfect pace with both, was another young man in jeans and hooded jacket, though the most identifying feature of his was that his face was obscured by, of all things, a Guy Fawkes mask. The mask followed them intently as its wearer kept pace with them, throwing a glass bottle at the assailant. It managed to collide with his arm, and he yelled at the pain but barely lost any speed. "God, just slow down, for God's sake!" shouted the new runner.

"What the hell?" Akira muttered at the sight.

The assailant was running out of room as they were coming upon a dead end in the alley they ran down. Even the runner on the rooftops was about to run out of room, as he could not make the jump over the fork at the end of the alley to the opposite buildings. There was a glass window at the end of the alley leading into a dark building, and the assailant suddenly gained great speed and jumped through it, shattering the glass and gracefully maintain his footing as he darted into the darkness of the building. Akira tried to keep up the chase, but he felt his body giving out on him. He slowed down, the pain in his chest and lungs becoming unbearable, and collapsed to the ground, heaving for breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the masked runner descend a nearby fire escape and walk over to him. He helped Akira to his feet, asking, "Hey, you okay, man?"

"Just out of breath, is all," Akira sighed, breathing heavily. "He got away. Goddammit…"

"He's gotten stronger, and faster. Even I could barely keep up with him."

Akira looked at him, meeting his gaze under his mask, and smirked. "I thought it might be you. I only ever knew one person that could run quite like you did," he nodded. "How have you been, Terasawa?"

The runner took off the mask, revealing a handsome, youthful face crowned with vibrant orange hair under his hood, which he let down to wipe the sweat from his brow. Just as Akira had thought, it was Fumiya Terasawa, star athlete and teenage heartthrob. The two had never been particularly close, being a year apart in school and having almost no overlapping classes or activities, but Fumiya had always been a charming, kind soul that almost everyone considered some level of friend, Akira included. Akira felt relieved to see him for the first time in two years, especially due to his phenomenally gifted athletics. "Could be better, honestly. But it's good to see you, Kurusu," he shook Akira's hand tightly. "Looks like I chose a hell of a time to come back home, huh?"

"Yeah, you and me both," Akira nodded, looking to the shattered glass window.

"What do you mean? Where have you been?"

"Long story, no time. What are you doing back here?"

"Long story, no time," Fumiya repeated to him. "But looks like it has to do with Komaki. Honestly, I figured you'd get involved with this, but looks like I already missed the big fight."

"Not quite, honestly. You just missed me taking what was easily the hardest punch of my life, and then he bolted."

"Then he really has gotten a lot stronger."

"I don't know how a human could punch like that. He knocked me on my ass in one strike. He was always strong, but that…"

More police sirens interrupted them, catching their attention. "Shit," said Fumiya. "Here come the cops. I should go, don't wanna attract more attention to myself than I already have. It's, uh, part of the reason I'm here, and wearing this." He put the mask back on. "We'll catch up later, Akira. See you. We'll get him next time; I can feel it!" And with that, he clambered back up the fire escape with incredible speed and ran off across the rooftops.

Akira rubbed the space below his chest, which continued to throb sharply with pain. He leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath and processing everything that had just happened. He was back, after nearly three years. And he had thoroughly defeated him with a single punch – the hardest punch he had ever felt in his life. Akira wondered how such a thing was even possible, especially with his Heat. He knew he was far stronger in that state than normally and could even take most highly damaging blows far easier than he could normally, but this was like getting his by a mallet, or a car. He wondered how such a thing was even possible, especially from Komaki. The guy used to be able to fight nearly as well as Akira, true, but only nearly. That punch, nearly knocking him out in a single blow, should simply not be possible.

Continuing to nurse his wound, he walked back out onto the street, seeing his friends running up to him frantically.

"What the hell happened, man!?" Yu exclaimed. "That was Komaki, wasn't it? And you took a punch like that then could just bolt? What's going on, Akira?"

Akira shook his head. "I wish I knew. But it was Komaki, that's for sure. Guess he decided now was the perfect time for a homecoming as well."

"Who's Komaki?" asked Ann. "What are you guys talking about?"

"An old… rival of mine," Akira clarified for everyone. "Sosuke Komaki was my biggest rival when we used to compete in martial arts back in high school. It's been… quite a while since we last saw him. We had something of a… falling out."

"That's an understatement," Rise crossed her arms.

"I assume there's more to this story?" said Yusuke.

Akira nodded slowly. "Yeah, there is. For now," he rubbed his chest again, "just know that him coming back is bad news. I don't know what his affiliation to these thugs are, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was among the organizers of this raid. If anyone has a bone to pick with this town, warranted or not, it's him."

Kanji added sternly, "He got kicked out of town back in high school. And for good reason. He's a total scumbag, no two ways about it."

Makoto sighed, rubbing her temples. "Guess vacation really is over. And here I was hoping we'd get to actually relax a bit."

Chie cracked her knuckles with strong-willed anticipation. "Then we'll just have to hunt these guys down and kick 'em straight of town, huh? Not like I'm gonna let Sosuke pull any of his shit again!"

"Guys," Akira interjected. "Just… drop it for now. Let's make sure everything is alright, then we can focus on saving the town. Hopefully after a full night's sleep."

"That sounds like a perfect idea," said Haru. "It's hard to be heroes when you've barely slept. Trust us," she smiled.

Yosuke added, "You guys are crazy to just say these things. Badass, definitely, but crazy."

Haru's attempt to lighten the mood worked, garnering chuckles from all their friends, except Akira. He turned to look down the road and saw two men approaching them, only one he happened to recognize. "Hey, Yu," he said. "It's your uncle."

"Huh?" Yu looked down the road as well. Sure enough, his uncle, the police detective Ryotaro Dojima, and a lanky man with greasy hair and a barely kempt suit walked alongside him. Yu and Akira both immediately recognized that Dojima was, understandably, not in a good mood, as he scowled the whole way over to them. "Oh, Uncle!" said Yu. "Glad you found us. Are you alright?"

Dojima was a hard-looking man in his later thirties, with a strong brow furrowed in a scowl. Tall, of a strong build, and holding his coat over his shoulder much like a class noire detective, he truly fit the bill of what one would imagine of a small-town officer and detective. The man beside him could best be described as "schlubby", hunched over and looking for more anxious and stressed than Dojima. His build looked like a strong wind could topple him, and while his gaze seemed perceptive and knowing, the rest of him looked more like your average overworked salaryman than a police officer.

Dojima spoke with a harsh, scratchy voice, "I'm fine, Yu, and I'm glad you seem okay." He looked over his nephew's shoulder at the group of young adults behind him. "Who's all this?"

"It's a long story, honestly."

Dojima looked at Akira instead of Yu with a scowl. "I have no doubt about that," he grumbled.

"Good to see you too, Dojima," Akira replied incredulously. "Is the situation under control?"

"Insofar as the fighting and vandalism has stopped, yes. Something which I have to wonder if you know anything about, Akira."

"What?"

"Uncle, what are you talking about!?" Yu pressed him.

"You were gone a while, Akira. And in case you couldn't guess, I've been watching the news. I'm with the police, after all. Forgive me, but the timing is rather convenient, isn't it?"

"What the hell are you talking about!?"

"Hey, copper!" Ryuji interjected, pointing his finger at Dojima. "We all know we've had a stressful night, but why don't you save the interrogations for the people who were trying to sack your town instead of save it, huh?"

"And who are you supposed to be?" Dojima scowled at him.

"Ryuji, back off," Akira growled. "Just let us handle this."

"He's grilling you, dude!"

"I know him. Just back the fuck up and let me deal with this, okay?"

Ryuji "tsked" and stood back. "Fine, have it your way."

"Anything I should be aware of, Akira?" Dojima asked.

"I may not have any involvement in anything that happened tonight, but I can tell you someone who did."

"Who?"

Akira put his hands in his pockets. "Sosuke Komaki."

The man beside Dojima finally spoke up. His voice was higher pitched and more nasally than even Akira expected. "Whoa, really!?" he exclaimed, almost excited. "Damn, that makes all this much more complicated, huh, Dojima?"

"Shut it, Adachi," Dojima immediately shot him down.

"Oh, okay…"

Dojima looked to Yu. "Can you confirm this?"

"I can. We were fighting them off when Komaki appeared. Akira tried to catch him, but he got away. You can ask the Yatas if you don't believe us. We drove off the thugs that were trying to ransack their store."

Dojima sighed, looking down to the ground. "Just… stay out of trouble, okay? And make sure everyone gets home. Akira, we likely will need to talk. Soon."

"At your convenience," Akira glowered at him.

"Just. Don't," Dojima raised his hand up, silencing Akira.

Adachi asked as they were walking away, "Dojima, you don't think that was the Butcher, do you?"

"I said to shut it, Adachi!"

Akira clenched his fists and shook his head. "Fucking great," he murmured. "News does travel fast."

Ann came up behind him, asking softly, "You know them?"

"Dojima, yeah. Known him since middle school. The other guy, I have no idea. A bit loose lipped for a detective, don't you think?"

"Doesn't seem to be the brightest bulb either."

"He does kinda have that look, yeah."

Yusuke said, "Perhaps our presence here makes things… complicated."

"Whatever comes, we'll deal with it. We're also keeping Haru safe, remember?"

Makoto said, "But they called you the Butcher. They know, Akira."

Through gritted teeth, he replied, "And I will deal with it, if needed, Makoto." He twitched, rubbed his temples, and ran his hand through his hair roughly. "C-come on, let's get back to the inn. We've done all we can for tonight."

Ann said, "I think we're all deserving of an explanation first. Who the hell is Sosuke Komaki? What's got even the police so riled up?"

Akira nodded. "Let's get back to the inn first. Then we'll talk about… everything."

"I know we all got a good nap," said Yusuke, "but a warm bed sounds delightful right now."

And they made their way to the inn mostly in silence, watching the emergency personnel and townspeople help each other after the pogrom. Arrests were made, glass was cleaned up, and this was the most disastrous anyone had ever seen the sleepy town of Shimonosuke. A powerful anger welled up within Akira at the knowledge that his old rival was involved, or perhaps organizing it. In his reflection in the car window, he even saw a flash of blue in his eyes as he seethed over the barbarism of the night. He remembered a similar feeling the last time he fought Sosuke, and it thus reminded him of the pain brought on another innocent at his rival's hand that night…

They all congregated in the boys' room, and it took Akira a long moment to push through the lump in his throat and even attempt to explain his story.

Akira turned around and looked to Yu and his friends for approval, even though this was his story. He breathed deeply, sounding exasperated. "Sosuke and I faced each other a lot in martial arts competitions in high school. We went to school with each other, but sure as hell never liked each other. He was always a rough personality, even though his family was pretty nice. Hard punches but soft ego, the works. It was in our third year when things got… out of hand at a competition. Or, after it, I guess."

Akira rubbed his chin, the discomfort of the memories apparent on his furrowing face. "It was the finale of a tournament, and he and I were in the last match. We were already heated after four matches a piece, and we didn't just fight, but, well, we beat the shit out of each other. Probably was quite the sight for those watching."

Yosuke said, "It was definitely entertaining. Well, mostly. Toward the end it got kind of uncomfortable to watch."

Kanji added, "I've seen plenty of fights in my time, and it definitely looked more like a street fight than a traditional competition."

"I remember the refs being pretty displeased with it," said Yukiko. "How many times did they have to stop the fight because you two were going too hard?"

"Three," Akira replied. "Two of which were his fault. One, well, I knew I shouldn't have kept pressuring him when he was on the backstep, but the adrenaline got the better of me, I admit. I just couldn't stop myself. I actually managed to win the fight, but boy, was it close. Winning would have been bad enough for him, but again, the adrenaline of the situation got to me, and I made one of the dumbest mistakes of my life: I started showboating and taunting him. You guys couldn't hear it, but I said some pretty vile shit to him as he laid on the ground bleeding."

"Rivalries tend to do that," said Kasumi. "I know I've gotten pretty close to losing my cool more than once in my gymnastics competitions. Just takes one person to rub you the wrong way enough times, and any result brings out the worst in you."

"That's not the real problem though. It's what happened after." Akira turned his nose up, breathing in sharply. "I had a girlfriend at the time. Her name was Marie. She apparently found Komaki and his friends talking shit about me behind my back after the rewards ceremony. She told me all this after the fact, but she said she stood up for me, telling Komaki off for his behavior. Bear in mind that Marie was a tiny thing, and Komaki could have easily subdued most adult men back then with his strength alone. He got so pissed at her for it that… he hit her."

"Oh my god," Ann covered her mouth.

"Heavens," Haru put a hand over her heart. "The poor sweetheart…"

Ryuji crossed his arm, nodding. "You were right, Kanji. He does sound like a real douchebag."

"The nerve," said Makoto. "The gall."

Akira continued solemnly, slowly. "I found her just after it happened, lying on the ground with a huge bruising welt under her eye. Everyone can attest to this," he motioned to his older friends, "they had to hold me back from killing the guy."

"Understandably," said Ann.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if I was her," said Futaba.

"Sosuke seemed shocked at it, but I didn't care. He was an asshole, sure, but I never knew him to be a truly evil person. The more I think about it afterward, the more I think he just lost control, but it didn't matter. He was disgraced, expelled from school and all martial arts competitions, and his whole family was ashamed as well. Not long afterward, he just… left. Ran away from home one night, and no one ever saw him again. I think he just couldn't take the shame of what he'd done."

"That's… sad," said Haru. "Like, what he did was obviously horrible, but still. It's sad."

"It is," Akira nodded. "It's very sad."

"So that's why you immediately wanted to fight him," said Makoto. "Probably dredged up a lot of painful memories."

"I was right back there, in that hallway at school, ready to rip his head off for what he did to Marie. But there was something he said to me when we were fighting…"

"What was it?" asked Yu.

"He told me I was brave for coming back. Not in those exact words, but that's what he meant." He looked to his newer friends. "You don't think he knows, do you?"

Makoto rubbed her chin pensively. "If he's connected to enough criminals, it's possible. But you shouldn't let it get to you. Whatever he may know doesn't change anything, Akira."

"You're right. It just shocked me. I can't fucking believe that he's back." Akira groaned and let himself fall back onto the floor. "I just wanted a vacation, man."

…

The ambulance had arrived quickly, and while Kiyomi was far from in critical condition, seeing her best friend be found bruised and beaten had made Anri feel like her attempts at fighting off the thugs were less than successful. Kiyomi clutched her core, groaning in pain as the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, and Anri could only watch from a safe distance. Some worthless miscreant had ambushed her as she was escorting her patrons away from the bar, and while he had been fought off by the group, he managed to severely hurt Kiyomi, and Anri only found her well after the fighting was done.

She was too slow, too distracted, and that would have to change to drive off these invaders.

Approaching her location were two men from the police, one of which she recognized to be Dojima, and he was walking directly to her with an awkward looking partner tagging along with him. "Kurusu-san," he greeted her flatly. "I understand this must be a… difficult moment for you," he looked to the EMTs loading Kiyomi into the ambulance, "but we have multiple witness accounts claiming that you were singlehandedly fending off many of the gang members assaulting the town. Could we ask you some questions about that?"

Taking out a cigarette, she asked without looking at them, "Could this really not wait until the morning, Dojima?"

"I'm afraid not. I promise this will be quick. Adachi, take notes as well."

"Right, Boss," Adachi took out a notepad and placed a pen against the paper.

Anri tried to light her cigarette, but no sparks caught, causing her even more frustration. Dojima took out a lighter and offered wordlessly to do it for her, which she agreed to by leaning toward his hand and giving him a sideways glare of exasperation. "What do you need to know?" she asked before blowing out a puff of smoke.

"Can you tell me the time at which you were first attacked?"

"Seven-ish. I was at Kiyomi's bar. Those assholes you drove off a couple weeks ago, remember? They came back, were the first ones I took out."

"I see," Dojima nodded, making a note in his journal, with Adachi doing the same in his notepad. "Seems like they had a vendetta against you."

"I just happened to be there when they were. They wanted to sack Kiyomi's place. I stopped that."

"Then went on a rampage through the neighborhood."

"If that's what you want to call it, sure."

"Don't get me wrong, the police thank you for your contribution, but civilians getting involved does make this more complicated."

"You weren't here, Dojima."

"But we are now."

"You telling me to stop?" she took another puff of her cigarette.

"I'm telling you that there's no need for you to be further involved. The police can investigate from here."

"We had to clear this up with your son as well," said Adachi, garnering an angry, annoyed glare from Dojima. "Whoops…" he said sheepishly, holding his notepad closer to his face.

"You spoke to my son?" Anri pressed them with a dark tone.

"He and his friends were fending off the thugs as well," Dojima explained reluctantly. "They did a pretty good job, but we'd especially prefer it if young adults like them stayed out of this from here on. It's for their safety, Anri."

"I'll discuss it with him."

"One last question," Dojima continued. "Are you aware of any of your son's business or actions since he 'left'?"

Anri took the cigarette out of her mouth and turned to face the men with a scowl. "Why?"

"We're just checking. We've heard of some unsavory gang warfare occurring in the Tokyo area recently, as you certainly have as well, and we're just trying to clear up what your son was doing during that time. The timing is rather serendipitous, don't you agree?"

"I do not agree at all. Now, if you'll excuse me," she turned away from them.

"Anri, wait," Dojima continued. "Trust me, this isn't anything personal, and I'm not pointing any fingers. We're just trying to cover our bases. He's my nephew's best friend, for God's sake."

"Then I'd expect you to have more faith in him." She walked off without another word.

"Great job, Adachi," Dojima grumbled.

"Damn, that woman's scary," said Adachi. "And what does she eat? She looks like she could break most of the guys at the station apart with her bare hands."

"Just shut up, Adachi."

The first thing Anri did when she got back home was sit and think about everything that had transpired recently, then realized how sore her muscles were after not having been in a real fight in so long. She felt somewhat proud that Akira had stepped up to help everyone out, along with his friends, but she knew something was not right with him. Mother's intuition, perhaps, but there was no mistaking it. She also knew that the time where transparency about their family history was long past, and that he was more deserving of it than ever before. A war between the Sakura Clan and the Omi Alliance, and now a gang invasion in their own home. If ever there was a time for the Dragons to return, it seemed now was that time.

But Akira had no idea was a Dragon even was, not really. Perhaps it was time for her to do the one thing she had dreaded most since she first held him in her arms, or first knew she was carrying him: tell him the truth.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Amagi Inn, requesting to be transferred to the room housing Akira Kurusu. It rang, and rang, and he finally picked it up. "Hello?"

"Akira, it's Mom. Are you alright?"

"Oh, Mom. Yeah, we're all fine. We all managed to get out with just a few scratches."

"That's so good to hear. I was so worried," she sighed with relief. "And I'm glad you're staying with everyone to make sure they're okay tonight, but I actually need to meet up with you in the morning."

"What do you mean?"

"Our usual place, usual time." She knew Akira would immediately know what that meant.

He paused before answering. "That serious, huh?"

"Yes, I'm afraid."

"Fine. I'll be there."

"Thank you, honey. Now get some rest. I'll be waiting for you there."

"See you then, Mom."

"I… love you, sweetheart."

"…I love you too, Mom.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight…" The phone hung up.

Anri breathed out slowly, calming herself. "You always knew this was coming," she told herself. "You knew you should have done this a long time ago. You already know what you need to talk about, what you need to say. So just do it…"

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug from behind. "He's ready, hon," said Takuto softly into her ear. "He'll be fine. He's ready for this."

"I know," said Anri. "I just hope I am…"

[Damn, writing large group fights and conversations makes my head spin. I brought this on myself. Sorry for the delays. Work and breakups and all that shit. Thank you for sticking around. Reviews are always encouraged.]