Chapter Eleven

Victory Lap

Various cars, some cheap and some surprisingly expensive, passed by Dojima in his squad car as he ascended the hill toward where the disturbance had been reported, with Adachi lackadaisically looking out the window as per usual. There had been reports of street racers congregating in the hills, mostly youths and young adults, and Dojima took the opportunity to examine the situation personally, assuming it must be related the gang violence. But the only sign of racing was the few cars leaving the area, all seeming untouched as they had not been racing at all. Not enough for a pull-over or arrest.

"I'll bet those kids came up here for the race," Adachi stated flatly. "We must have just missed it."

"I am aware, Adachi," Dojima replied with strong annoyance. "Thank you for stating the obvious."

"Look, Boss, I'm just saying that if there was a race, it looks like they're already done. And we haven't had any reports of injuries or even impeded traffic, so even if it was just some dumb kids doing a Touge run, they were at least smart about it, even if they were in the gang."

"You saying it's not worth it to make sure everything in on the up and up?"

"I'm saying that things do seem on the up and up, and that we probably have bigger things to worry about than some adrenaline junkies who at least got their kicks safely."

Dojima came upon the overlook atop the hill and parked his car, taking a moment to survey the gorgeous sunset over the small country town. "Maybe you actually have a point for once, Adachi," he muttered, still looking over the town.

"Wait, really?" Adachi asked, flabbergasted at the sudden and infrequent praise.

"Yeah. The gang has gone to ground for now, and we might have a serial killer here now, after the Morooka incident. There's a possibility they're connected, but I'd say it's slim. The m.o. doesn't match up at all."

"What's your reasoning?"

"These gang members don't seem to have lethality as their top priority in their actions. And nothing we've gathered from arrests or questioning indicates that either. They're just here to cause havoc at the behest of their leaders. Most of them aren't even sure why, which makes it damn hard to question them."

"I've seen some of the reports. It's almost like someone has a personal vendetta against this town."

"You actually read the reports now?"

Adachi narrowed his eyes at Dojima. "When have I not?"

"Just surprised you're taking this job seriously. I know you were a big city cop before you came here. You were in Akihabara and trying to get transferred to Shinjuku, right?"

"I was," Adachi nodded. "But… life worked out differently," he said the last few words amidst a sigh. "The top brass thought my talents would be best used out here, and I wasn't in a position to negotiate or argue."

"Well, you picked the most exciting time to come by that you could have, apparently, since you've only been here a few months. Organized gang violence and a serial killer," Adachi shook his head. "You were right, Adachi. We probably have bigger things to be investigating. We should be focusing more on this killer."

"We've been distracted since the attack, trying to put that mess back together. That was the right decision, but now that we have some breathing room, I really think we should focus our attention elsewhere. Do we have any leads?"

"Not yet, but we're keeping our eyes peeled. Even deployed a couple undercover cops to keep tabs on the city, primarily focusing on Yasogami High, in case the killer is linked to the school."

"Not a bad assumption. Who did we send out anyway?"

Dojima glared at him. "They're undercover, Adachi. Why would I tell you that?"

"I was just curious, geez."

"Well, just know that it's being handled. That's all that matters here."

Dojima cracked open the window and lit a cigarette.

"Hey, Boss," Adachi spoke up after a moment. "What was the name of that girl the news interviewed again? The victim of Morooka? They didn't say who it was on the broadcast, for obvious reasons."

"Hmm? Oh, Sakie Konishi. She works at her parents' liquor shop in town. Why?"

"Just making sure I have my facts straight," Adachi replied, crossing his arms. "Everyone's been damn cagey about this whole thing. I swear, everyone back in the office is has three different answers for any questions you ask them about it."

"They're not used to such a serious situation, Adachi. None of us are," Dojima said with a dark, tired tone.

"I get that," Adachi nodded. "Just wanted to make sure I got all the real info. I bet it's pretty hard on your daughter though, even if she doesn't know all the details. Just knowing that her daddy is dealing with something this hardcore must be rough."

Dojima took a drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowing in thought. "She knows how all this works," he said slowly. "She's been through enough tough shit in her time to be used to it… unfortunately."

Adachi looked away awkwardly. "Why don't we, uh, get back on the beat? You know, practice some of that small town justice on these thug kids like we were talking about?"

Dojima apathetically put the car in gear and started to roll out. "Sure. Why the hell not?"

And they drove off in relative silence, Dojima unable to think about much beyond his darling daughter back home, hoping she could forgive him if he spent another night at the office.

…

Not wanting to bring more attention to themselves than they already had, Akira and his friends agreed to meet back at the Amagi Inn instead of celebrating at a bar or restaurant. Whatever Terasawa had to explain was serious, and they wanted the privacy needed to discuss it discreetly. Though due to taking an exponentially faster car, Ryuji and Haru arrived back at the inn far before their friends, not that Ryuji was trying to wait for them. He could not get enough of the engine's roar and reached the inn with minutes to spare.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the traditional inn, garnering concerned and judgmental looks from an elderly couple lounging on the porch.

Ryuji beamed like an excited child at the steering wheel, his breathing still quick and heavy as his adrenaline had yet to calm down from the race. "God, that was amazing," he said to Haru, who watched him with joyful fascination. "I actually got to race… in a great car! Like, a real race, with someone who actually knew what they were doing! It's been too long since I got to do that. Oh, I'm so happy!" he nearly squealed.

"You were quite amazing yourself," Haru said. "I'm glad I got to race with you. It was exhilarating! I've never gotten to do anything like that before."

"Wait, really? This is your car, isn't it?"

"Well, it's my family's car, yes. Technically my father's, but he doesn't actually drive anymore. He just has his chauffeurs drive him everywhere. Many rich people just buy expensive, exclusive cars to say they have them, and maybe one day resell them for much more than what they bought it for when they become an even more exclusive collector's item. We never actually drove any of the cars by father bought."

"Then… ain't this maybe a bad thing that you stole one of his cars?"

"Fuck it," Haru said, her high-pitched voice betraying yet somehow legitimizing her intensely dismissive demeanor toward her father.

"Uh, point made," Ryuji said plainly. "Just as long as this doesn't come back to bite you."

"The only thing left my father can do to me is to lock me up at one of our estates in the countryside so I never get any independent ideas again. After all he's put me through, forgive me if I have little sympathy for him temporarily losing one of his favorite toys." Haru breathed deeply to compose herself, her chest heaving in her sweater. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me," she shook her head. "I shouldn't be talking in such an uncouth manner, especially when we should be celebrating."

"No, really, it's okay," Ryuji replied. "I mean, I know at least a little bit about the whole shitstorm with Daigo. Some loving father your old man is to make you put up with that."

"I've been told he's just raising me how he was raised, but I know that's not true. He was never seen as a womb to be sold," she said with venom in her voice. "I believe he was raised with high expectations, even painfully high ones, but he can't begin to understand what he's done to me. A part of me thinks he just refuses to understand."

Ryuji shook his head. "Doesn't matter right now, does it? We've got a nice car, nice friends, and sounds like a bunch more asses to kick in the morning. Whatever those two think of you doesn't apply right now," he said seriously, yet with a kind, soft smile.

Haru caught his gaze, confused yet strangely calmed by how genuinely he spoke to her. She could not help but smile herself, running a hand through her floofy hair. "Thank you, Ryuji," she whispered. "You're right."

"We'll have to deal with it someday soon, and we will, you can believe that. But for now, let's just focus on kicking these punks out of town, yeah?" Ryuji paused for a moment, his excited demeanor fading. "Besides… they don't deserve you even thinking about them and their opinions so much." Haru perked up at that, looking back at him. Ryuji was looking down at the steering wheel then looked to the car's side mirror, seeing his friends' cars approaching. "They don't deserve you," he muttered.

Haru was stunned for a reaction for a moment, unconsciously holding her breath as the words reverberated within her like the resonant tone of a large bell, deep and powerful. It was exactly what her friends had told her previously, but it resonated differently within her hearing it from a man. Haru had never had great relations with any men in her life, even rarely having any close male friends. To hear such a claim from Ryuji was… strangely uplifting.

She nodded slightly, leaning back in the seat. "You're right," she muttered as well. "They don't."

"Damn right," Ryuji continued. "You deserve a lot better."

Again, just like her friends had told her. Again, ringing in her ears with an alien yet comforting tone.

They joined up with their friends and entered the hotel, going to they boys' room to listen to Terasawa, who finally took off his mask as they entered. Akira's female friends who did not know him from high school immediately noticed how attractive he was, Terasawa having always been known for looking like he could be a model with his vibrant orange hair and soft yet strong features.

They sat in a group on the floor, performed the necessary introductions, and he began to explain.

"Firstly," Terasawa began, "I want to say that race today was awesome, Sakamoto. You definitely delt a blow to Komaki's manpower with that win."

"Ah, it wasn't anything too special," Ryuji said, feigning humility. "Just drove how I always drive." Haru found it rather endearing, stifling a giggle.

"But I don't think that's anywhere near close to solving the problem," Terasawa continued with a serious tone. "And I happen to know at least a bit about how he amassed such an army."

"He was always tough," Kanji added, "but he never struck me as a 'leader', you know? More of an angsty loner. And I should know."

"Before you ask, I've never been part of his gang," said Terasawa, "but… I happen to know someone who is. Or at least someone who knows someone. And that's why I'm here in town."

Yukiko asked, "Who is it?"

Terasawa shook his head, sighing. "My sister, actually. Emi."

"Wait, what!?" Chie exclaimed. "I remember Emi! She was always so nice! She joined a freaking gang!?"

"Not… exactly," Terasawa tried to steer the conversation. "I mean, she basically has by now, but it wasn't like that at first. She has a boyfriend, Akihiko; pretty strong boxer, I guess. Loves anything to do with fighting and testing his strength, according to my sister when I last talked to her. Apparently, while he was fighting in some local exhibition, he caught wind of a really strong guy looking for any comers to fight him with promise of reward. Akihiko couldn't resist and went to the fight. The opponent, of course was Komaki."

Akira nodded, his jaw tightening. "I can already imagine how that went," he muttered, rubbing three fingers on the center of his sternum where Sosuke had struck him.

"And you'd be right. I guess Komaki kicked his ass, and it wasn't even close. And this prompted Akihiko to join up with him so he could learn from someone so strong. Emi was infatuated with him like she'd never been for anyone before, leading her to follow him like some groupie. Seems that quite a few women have gone down the same path," Terasawa's eyes narrowed, "and it makes me sick."

Makoto added, "And you want to get Emi out of such a situation, correct?"

"We already know how dangerous these people can be," Terasawa continued, "which makes the fact that neither I, our family, or any of her friends here or in the city where she was working have heard from her in three months exponentially more concerning. I've been tracking Komaki's group with the help of some friends since I heard about Akihiko joining up with him, which was about four months ago. That's how I know Emi is with him too."

Naoto asked in her typical intellectual, even tone befitting of a detective such as herself, "Do you believe Emi is being held against her will, Terasawa? Have you heard about any other significant others being held captive by this gang as well?"

"Unfortunately, I can't say for sure," he admitted, shaking his head. "I acknowledge the possibility that she might be there of her own free will, but given how violent the situation is becoming, and how unhinged Komaki seems to be on this revenge quest of his, I can't just sit idly by while my sister might be in danger." He looked away, his face darkening. "She almost bit the big one with another boyfriend of hers a couple years ago," he muttered, his voice turning raspy with stress and barely repressed anger, "and I refuse to bet on her getting lucky twice in a row."

Futaba said, "That's… so cool. Like a manga almost."

Terasawa chuckled, but there was no amusement in his voice or body language. "It's not as fun as that sounds though. This is serious shit, and I've been investigating their operations here since just before you guys arrived," he looked to Akira. "And it seems like they're getting ready to mobilize again; probably going to bring the heat once and for all. And for the occasion, they're holding some tournament outside of town to attract more fighters to their gang. They call it the 'Electric Wind Tiger' tournament, and Akihiko will be headlining the event."

"Meaning Emi will likely be there?" asked Rise.

"Exactly. And given how well you guys can obviously fight, I was hoping I could persuade you, whomever wants to, to help crash the party with me while I get my sister the hell out of there." The Black Heavens Guns and their friends looked to each other inquisitively at his request. "By my estimate," Terasawa continued, "if some of us could put on a big show of beating up the main challengers, and even some of their vets, we could probably get even more of their forces to run from the city, leaving only Komaki's most fanatical supporters to help him if he makes another move against town."

"It's a decent plan," Naoto said. "If this is some sort of recruiting exhibition, it would likely look quite bad to the challengers if both they themselves and the faction they're trying to join were defeated by the leader's rivals."

"About that," Akira interrupted, "I'm wondering if it might be misguided to let me fight. This is gonna be attention grabbing enough for Sosuke, and me participating might be too provoking for him and his men. We want to disillusion their aspirants, not turn the place into an all-out warzone. As strong as we are, I don't think we all would be making it out of that one if they wanted to end this mess right there. I can't risk that for you guys."

"It's a valid point," said Yu with a nod. "Having Akira there, or at least having him fight, would be like a dinner bell for Komaki and his fanatics."

Makoto stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Then perhaps we should have only a small group of combatants at the tournament to complete out objective without sparking another pogrom. And for the record," she spoke slowly and confident with a slight smirk, "I volunteer."

"I had a feeling she'd say that," Ryuji said. "I can be a pretty good brawler myself, you know. If you want a little street-fighting style to spice up the event."

"All due respect, Sakamato," Naoto replied, "we might not want to approach this matter so brazenly. The ramifications of any errors could prove disastrous not just for us, but for the town."

Chie whined, "I though it sounded kind of fun. I like street fighting, especially with a classic kung fu flair."

Yosuke said, "Please don't tell me you're thinking of entering."

"And why wouldn't I? I know how to fight too, you know!"

"Oh, I do know."

Akira then spoke up slowly. "Actually, I have another idea."

"What is it?" asked Terasawa.

"We don't want to spread ourselves too thin, right? In case it makes everything worse, but you still want an in at the event so you can find your sister. And I can't enter or it might provoke Sosuke too much, but it sounds like we might have some real contenders at this match."

"Right. What about it?"

"What if I had a… substitution?"

Terasawa raised an eyebrow. "Like who?"

"I don't know if she'll go for it, but I was thinking about my mom, actually. She can still beat my ass, even with my new… skills. And I know she's just as raring to fight these guys as we are. And this way, no one else has to risk getting hurt, and we can have a small team focused on finding Emi. She did beat all the other gang members. It's not like she should have any difficulty."

Terasawa nodded. "If she's open to it, I'd take the help."

Ann asked, "But are you sure you want to throw your mother to the wolves like that, Akira?"

"Trust me," he shook his head, the ghost of a confident smirk appearing on his face, "it's the other guys you should worry about, everyone, not her." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"She trained you, right?" Chie asked. "Then she must really be a hell of a fighter. I've always wanted to see her in action."

Akira nodded, rising to his feet. "Then I'll call her and ask, though I don't think there's any chance of her saying no. She never backs down from a chance to help people."

"Any help would be appreciated," said Terasawa. "Thanks, Akira."

"Thank me after the call." He exited the room and went down to the private room in the lobby with a payphone and dialed his home number. It took quite a few rings for the call to be picked up…

…

Anri sipped her steaming tea gently, the heat warming her body from her gullet to her toes. Her thoughts focused on both her intense sparring session with her son and the gang incursion she had helped fend off, the attempted destruction of her friend Kiyomi's bar lighting a particularly strong spark of anger in her chest. She managed to save the bar and her friend from any serious danger, but it was a close one. A very close one.

I've gotten slower since my teens, she thought. Though it did feel good to cut loose for the first time since those same years. And at least Akira really proved that he could take care of himself. She looked out the window wistfully at the beautiful sunset, oranges, blues, and purples radiating out from behind the distant hills. You don't see anything like that in the city, she mused, some calm returning to her.

The phone rang.

Anri casually moved to pick it up, mildly annoyed at her contemplative teatime being interrupted. "Hello, Kurusu residence," she said as she answered it.

"Hey, kid," a familiar, old voice came from the other end, and Anri's chest immediately tightened with anxiety as she instantly recognized its bassy tones.

"Sojiro?" she asked. "What do you want?"

"Just… wanted to check on my granddaughter," he replied slowly. "And my goddaughter. See how you both were getting on."

Anri felt confused at the sudden inquiry, immediately wondering if there was some other ulterior motive to his call. "We're doing fine, all things considered," she elected to leave out the gang attack. "She's a really good kid. Wakaba… would be proud." It pained her to say such a thing, as if it was somehow rendering Wakaba more thoroughly deceased to acknowledge it aloud.

Sojiro sighed on the other end of the line. "That she would be," he muttered. "I'm glad to hear she's doing okay, and that you've taken a shining to her."

"She's so much like her mother, it's almost uncanny. And that's apart from her looks, which she seems to entirely take from Wakaba. That same awkward, inquisitive personality as well, just a bit more subdued. Though I don't blame her at all."

"She told you, didn't she?"

"Just the bullet points. A shootout, right? Likely the Omi?"

Sojiro paused briefly before speaking, the pain of the memory made apparent in the silence. "Yes. Probably revenge for the ass kicking we gave them back in '67. Revenge against me." Anri had no response to that. "They came down on them quickly, like they knew where they were going to be."

"Did someone set them up?"

"No one inside our Clan. Wouldn't put it past Shido though."

Bastard. "He always was jealous of her," Anri said with disdain thickening her tone. "Told me once that he thought she didn't deserve to be your daughter, just because she wanted to be a scientist rather than his own idea of some sort of yakuza queen."

"Trust me," Sojiro said, sounding even more tired than when he had started, "I'm aware. I always admired his strength, his desire to rise to the top. But I never trusted my gut about him – that sinking feeling that he'd try to rise too high, and that's why we are where we are now."

Revisiting those memories caused Anri great pain, even making her wince as she remembered Wakaba's bright smile, and thought of how she might look after a shootout that robbed the world, and her young daughter, of her brilliance and love. She was thankful that she had never seen the news broadcast or photos of the incident, though both came to Sojiro's mind with perfect clarity.

"What exactly is this about though?" Anri asked, briskly changing the subject. "I assume you didn't call just to reminisce about the good old days."

"Sharp as ever, Anri," Sojiro said. "Though it wouldn't take my daughter to realize that."

Anri repressed a disquieted sigh. "Can we please not talk about her right now?" she pleaded.

"I… would agree to that. I'm sorry," he said, his voice trailing off, becoming shaky in a way Anri had never heard from the legendary Chairman-Patriarch Sojiro Sakura. "It just… comes out sometimes when I speak to someone who actually knew her. And no one knew her like you did."

Anri nodded, tears stinging her eyes as she remembered their youth together.

The memories flooded back to her in a great, unstoppable tide. Anri only barely remembered when they first met, what with her being so young at the time, and Wakaba being two years younger. She was only barely able to talk at that time, but Anri felt an immediate connection with the girl she would come to know as her godsister, eventually growing to become just "sisters". For that was the only proper descriptor for their relationship. They were sisters - no more, no less. And how they loved each other for their entire lives.

She remembered growing up with her, showing Wakaba her new martial arts katas and techniques she learned from Uncle Saejima and her own father and mother, while Wakaba would try to explain her new academic interest that was always well beyond her years. Rarely did Anri understand much of it, if any, but she cherished the moments they indulged in each other's passions, even if they walked very different paths with different interests. Even with Wakaba falling to the ground as she attempted to perform Kiryu's infamous Dragon roundhouse kick Anri had just learned, or when Anri's head felt like it would split open as Wakaba tried to explain to her sister the mere basics of computer sciences and advanced mathematics that Wakaba understood years before her peers, they both knew always that they were investing in each other, helping each other push themselves to further cultivate their passions And those were some of the finest memories Anri had of her childhood.

It was even through Wakaba that Anri met her love, her one and only. Back then, merely an awkward yet kind lab and study partner for Wakaba, who would hang out with her occasionally to discuss scientific journals and the college-level applied science courses they were taking in high school. Anri remembered their first meeting, with young Takuto Kurusu immediately getting flustered upon seeing her, all sweaty and bruised from an intense sparring session with Uncle Saejima, yet entirely unphased by it. She recognized immediately how addled he became at what was likely the first time he had ever met a young woman capable of completely trouncing him in any physical competition, and she found it strangely endearing.

The more Wakaba and Takuto would hang out together, the more Anri saw him, spoke with him, let him stutter through an explanation of whatever psychological research paper he was writing at the time. She maintained the cool exterior she was known for around him, that of a Dragon as she interpreted it, but secretly grew more comfortable around him, feeling no intimidation or ill intent from this young man, but an adoration for the person she was, and a genuine want to know the woman behind the cool fire she enveloped herself in.

All things she did not feel with Shido, whom she had developed a brief relationship with before he scorned her father and disappeared into the night, only reappearing two years later with the Omi dogs backing him up. Like Sojiro, she admired his strength and tenacity, his drive to rise above all challenges. She thought that was what would match a Dragon, the celestial defender. She thought she needed physical strength to be happy and safe, but it turned out to be the opposite. Where Shido was a mighty fighter, he was also angry, vindictive, manipulative and dishonest. Rarely did he show his true self to anyone, and Anri noticed that he seemed to hardly even have a "true self", as the person he was seemed to change depending on who he interacted with. Kazuma Kiryu recognized all this long before her though, and when Shido went to him to ask for his blessing in marrying Anri and becoming the Dragon's successor, Kiryu turned him down. Hard. Anri knew that it was a greater blow to Shido than any great punch her father could throw, and she never saw him again, only knowing that he survived his self-imposed exile when he enacted final retribution on her family all those years ago.

"I feel that same way," she said to Sojiro after a pause. "I've only had Takuto to talk to about this as someone who actually knew her. Sometimes, especially early on, it would just… spill out."

"I'm glad to hear you still care about her so much, Anri."

"I never stopped. And my love for her never waned one bit."

Sojiro paused this time. Anri heard a single sniffle before he cleared his throat. "Then maybe this old man can do you one more favor, as my goddaughter."

"What is it?"

"Your mother," he began, "is alive. And safe."

Anri's eyes widened, her only response as the breath left her lungs in disbelief being a whispered, "What?"

"I helped her relocate as well when you left. She wanted to be safe as well but wanted you to be even safer. That's why she never contacted you. She wanted you to be entirely separated from your past so that it would never follow you, even if that meant never seeing her child again. However… that time might be past. The war is coming to an end, child. And I felt it may be the right time to tell you where Sayama is. Well, both I and someone else we both know."

"Majima?" Anri immediately asked.

"That's right. Let's say that he's kept an eye on her all these years. And no, I don't mean it like that," Sojiro joked, both of them chuckling softly. "The Iroko temple near Kyoto. You'll find here there, if you want to see her."

"The Iroko temple? I thought that was demolished years ago."

"Just another means of keeping your family safe," said Sojiro with a hint of pride. "And safe she is. Do with that what you will."

Anri nodded, her heart fluttering in excitement and anxiety at the thought of seeing her mother again. It had been so very long; since before she got married or had a child. Akira never had a chance to know his grandparents, but perhaps it might be good for him to at least meet his grandmother. And, of course, for Anri to see her own mother. But what would they say? What would her mother think of her? Would she think she had run away? Abandoned the Clan and her family? Would she accept her? Scorn her? The possibilities were crushingly endless. "I… will think about it," she finally said. "Thank you, Sojiro. Really."

"No need, but you're welcome anyway. Keep an eye on Futaba for me, and on your son. He's… been through a lot recently."

"I could tell. But answer me this," she said more sternly, "and don't bullshit me one bit: did you do everything you could for him? Did you try to keep him safe? Or did you just want a new Dragon to parade around for a bit?"

Sojiro paused for a moment. "I did everything I could for him," he said steadily. "I tried to keep him safe. Was it nice to have a new Dragon return to Kamurocho? Yes. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But I always saw him first not as a Dragon, but as your son, and the grandson of my best friend. I couldn't protect him from everything, but I could tell from day one that he was strong like you and Kazuma. And he proved it, even without my help."

Anri breathed deeply, feeling little relief in his explanation, but somewhat glad she got one at all. Still, her suspicions based on her son's behavior poked at her in her mind, making her uneasy in a way only a mother could be. "If I find our you're lying, you know what will happen, old man."

"I do. Completely. Was there anything else, Anri?"

"No. That's all."

"Then take care, kid," Sojiro said, genuine care seeping into his deep voice.

Anri briefly held off on responding to let her nerves calm. "You too, Uncle." It had been many, many years since she last called him that. Saying it felt heavy on her tongue, yet pleasantly familiar. A byproduct of wistful nostalgia, most likely, but that did not reduce the familiar sense of found kinship that merely calling the old man "Uncle" produced in her chest.

"Goodnight, Anri."

"Goodnight."

She slowly hung up the phone, keeping her hand on it for a moment as if letting it go would be letting go of something important to her, just like she had back in 1967. Anri pulled her hand away from the phone and sighed, the weight of actually seeing her mother again falling on her shoulders. A part of her wanted to jump into her car and drive off right there and just fall into her mother's arms, while another feared what such a reunion may bring for her and her family. She wanted to separate from the yakuza after the war, after her father's death, to start a new life in a new place. And she succeeded, but the old life came back, tugging on her subtly to return to the fray she had fled from.

And Anri had never truly forgiven herself for fleeing. She could still feel Saejima's arms around her waist and belly holding her back from sprinting off toward where Kazuma had landed in a vain attempt to save her beloved father, and to exact brutal, bloody vengeance on every Omi dog that dared to set foot near her home. She knew it would have been the end of her to do so, but she was a Dragon, was she not? Dragons defend those they love. Dragons rise above, ascending to the heavens to enact divine justice on those that would harm those under their purview.

She did not that night. She ran at the behest of her mother and uncles. She ran. And ran. And ran. And it had caught up to her, now that she had her own family. And it nearly took her son from her too.

The phone rang again, pulling her out of her thoughts and back to the real world. "Goddammit," she muttered, wishing she could just take a hot bath with a glass of rum and forget the conversation with Sojiro ever happened. Anri let the phone ring for a moment, weighing whether or not to actually answer it or just leave it to the answering machine, but she decided to be polite, just in case it was important.

"Hello, Kurusu residence," she said flatly as she picked up the phone.

"Hey, Mom. It's me," said Akira's voice, and her heart fluttered in relief to hear him.

"Oh, hey, honey," she said, calming herself. "What's up? Something wrong?"

"Um, kind of, but I actually wanted to ask you something if you're not busy."

"No, no, not at all. What's going on?"

"Well, we might know where Komaki is. And we need your help."

"M-my help?"

"Yeah, actually. They're hosting a fighting tournament outside of town, and we have two objectives to fulfill. One: to take down the fighters so they don't inspire anyone else to join Komaki's gang. Two: to find Terasawa's sister, Emi, who's dating one of the top competitors and will likely be at the fight to cheer him on. Terasawa wants to bring her home."

"Wait, you mean Terasawa Fumiya? He's with you?"

"Yeah. He's trying to get his sister away from this gang and is here undercover. He's joined up with our team and this is our best chance to accomplish that goal. For you, we were hoping that you'd be able to actually fight in the tournament for us."

Anri shook her head in disbelief. "Wait, why do you want me to fight these thugs?"

"Because we need all hands on deck to find Emi and get out of there safely. And we know that you're the strongest there is, Mom. You don't have to; no one is going to make you. But I know how strong you are – much stronger than even me. So, I wanted to give you an opportunity, in case you want to show off what a Dragon can really do."

Anri's muscles tightened in anticipation, as they always did before a fight. To join a tournament again after so many years, and against these worthless ruffians; the idea resonated with her more than she would ever want to admit. "They tried to hurt Kiyomi, you know?" she began. "They nearly did, and tried to destroy her bar. Maybe they need an adult to help them see the light."

"That's just what I was thinking," Akira said confidently. "Tomorrow evening, then? Are you in?"

Anri smirked. "Damn straight."

"Hell yeah," Akira said enthusiastically, causing Anri to smile approvingly. "I'll go tell the others and we'll grab you when we're ready to roll. Make sure to stretch."

"Don't turn that one around on me! You're the one that always needs reminding!"

"I couldn't resist. Thanks, Mom."

"Just… be safe. Always."

"Always."

"Love you."

"Love you too. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

They hung up the phone, and Anri felt the tiniest bit of warmth in her chest, a few blue sparks floating up from her shoulders for a moment. She smirked and nodded to herself, then cracked her knuckles. "Let's see if I still got it."

It's showtime.

…

Three hours later, Akira found himself unable to sleep with Kanji's incessant snoring. After staring at the ceiling for about forty minutes, he got up amidst many silent swears toward his friend to clear his mind and hopefully relax himself. Upon doing so, he realized Yosuke was also no longer in the large hotel room and figured he might have the same idea. Yawning, Akira stepped out of the room and down the stairs to the still lit traditional lobby and common area.

One of the adjacent halls led to the hot spring outdoor bath behind the property, and Akira figured a ten-minute dip might calm his agitated nerves. He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he yawned again while approaching the locker room, preparing to disrobe for a bath.

That was until he heard a slap from one of the adjacent storage rooms. Then another, followed by an aggravated male groan. Morbid curiosity fought with apprehension in his mind, but the former ultimately won out, prompting Akira to cling to the wall and slink toward the door in a way not dissimilar to an anime spy. He was aware of this, but cared not as he heard another slap followed by a whimper.

"What the hell?" he whispered to himself. "Someone's getting beat in there." Thinking it could be a gang member or some other miscreant, Akira moved to the door and slid it open, ready to fight whatever creep was on the other side.

His determined, fiery eyes widened in shock as he saw before him Yosuke bent over on all fours on the ground, his bare, toned butt proudly in the air with reddened cheeks. Behind him stood Chie in her lingerie with a leather belt in hand, raised and ready to bring it down upon her boyfriend's ass. Their eyes all met, each of them becoming flushed with embarrassment and shock. Chie blinked twice, unable to muster any other kind of response as they were found in such a position. Yosuke just said through a cloth band wrapped around his mouth, "Umm…".

"Goodnight, guys," Akira quickly said.

"Goodnight!" Chie said in a friendly tone, though her face did not show any less shock.

"Gunife, dro," Yosuke said casually through the band, and Akira slid the door close.

He stood there for a moment yet in shock, processing what he had just seen, then quietly walked back to the lobby, suddenly not in the mood for a hot bath. A cold shower would be preferable at that moment.

When he entered the lobby, he saw Yukiko in comfy sweats sweeping the floor. "Oh, Akira," she said as she noticed him. "You're up late. Is everything alright."

Akira looked around the room, his eyes settling on the lobby entrance. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" he asked plainly before exiting outside, Yukiko left watching in confusion. He suddenly let out a mighty scream, a flash of intense blue appearing from behind the door, dissipating right as Akira ceased his bellow and he came back into the hotel, slumped over with his face tight with agitation.

"Goodnight, Yukiko," he grumbled.

"Goodnight," she waved to him awkwardly. She looked around in confusion as he made his way back up to the hotel room and closed the door. "I wonder what that was about," she said to herself as she resumed her cleaning, ready to finally hit the hay in a few minutes.

As she was putting away her cleaning supplies, she noticed that the television in the employee breakroom was still on. She saw her mother sat in front of it, watching the news. "Mother, I just finished the cleaning," she said. "If there's nothing more you need, then I think I will head… to…" Her voice trailed off as she read the headline crawling across the screen.

"BREAKING NEWS: YOUNG WOMAN FOUND DEAD – FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED"

The image showed a young woman with sandy blond hair strung up from a TV antenna, hanging upside down over a small house. The feed quickly cut to a duo of newscasters trying to make sense of the horrific event while downplaying the severity as it was a "currently developing story".

"Oh my god," Yukiko muttered, clutching her hand to her chest, "that was Sakie Konishi."

[I apologize for the delay. Work stuff and was on vacation. Thank you for the reviews and please be encouraged to post more. I read them all and will be more proactive in replying and discussing with readers if you have any comments or questions going forward. Thank you for your support.]