Chapter 18: Resolutions
Showering and scrubbing a former terrified Yakuza off his body was less than fine for Giran. Matter of fact, it was worse than that! The damned girl's blood got in his eyes, into his mouth, everywhere!
Not to mention he'd have to hire a cleaner to make the whole guest room not look like murder room with how much blood splattered everywhere… Gah! He'd have to deal with that later! He had bigger things to worry about - namely his eventual demise at the hands of a psychopath.
He gazed about in pure paranoia of his bathroom walls with each scrub of his skin as he lathered up copious amounts of soap into a yellow, coarse, exfoliating sponge. The crimson remnants of Asuka drizzled down his face, shoulders, and legs and into the drain below - the last dredge of the girl forever disappearing into a pipe filled with soap, scum, and gunk.
Finishing up, he dried himself quickly, throwing on a towel and marching out with purpose to the living room to close the door on the balcony, wanting to have some privacy while he planned out how to go about his current situation.
"Stupid flying pest, go on! Shoo!" He chided and made away gestures towards the same, ridiculous crow that came to perch on his balcony. "Damn it, scram!"
Giran had no idea what attracted this dumb bird, but he just about had it with the thing. Always sitting there, doing absolutely nothing better with its insignificant life. Can't the thing tell he was stressed out of his mind?!
He got closer, shooing it away further as it hobbled over to the edge. Not a moment sooner that, with a retaliatory caw, the feathered beast flew away slowly, off to find another bozo's balcony to perch upon and annoy. He slammed the sliding door shut and closed the curtains.
With an annoying creature removed, he paced back to the bloodied guest room where Asuka's blood began to seep into the carpet and walls - staining the once white wallpaper with a deep crimson paintjob. The info-broker, in his comfy slippers and bathing robe on, tip-toed past the blood-stains and snatched Asuka's laptop.
It didn't take long for him to break into the thing, but with the speed of the computer, it made him a little more than impatient - with impending death soon upon him.
"C'mon, damn it! C'mon!" Giran's finger's tapped away at Asuka's laptop with loud clacks. There had to have been something on her hard drive that could help him solve what the hell just happened.
The mere sight of the green-loading circle going around and around almost made him tear his hair out. His life was on the line, damn it! He shouldn't have to wait for it to fucking load! He looked up from the computer, expecting Makima to have already snuck into the room with her finger pointed at him - blowing his entire being into smithereens with her quirk.
His heart pounded in his ears as he felt like any moment could soon be his last; his chest tightened up and could feel his entire stomach turning into a knot at the cruel situation he found himself in.
Giran's terrified eyes looked to and fro every few seconds around the blood stained white room, fearful that Makima had already figured him out.
Copying so many files off Asuka's hard drive felt like an eternity to him. Each of them were encrypted and he'd have to run them through a program later, but the fact that the former Gadget Fox had a semi-decent pile of 'info' he could go through on Makima was a blessing. He'd pat her dumb head if she wasn't… spread all over his walls.
He flicked through the news on another tab in the computer seeing that what happened to the Yakuza girl had also happened to her fellows too.
However it happened - whether it was another of Makima's endless list of new quirks - or the aid of a brain-washed psycho - was undoubtedly going to garner the attention of all sorts of law enforcement. It did little to soothe his poor heart though…
She's likely sunk her claws deep into Musutafu's Police Force…
He wished he'd have thought of some reason as to why he couldn't forge her fake transcripts, letters of recommendations, and a degree that helped her get into that detective position…
If only I'd known!
And now Giran's likely going to have to lay in the bed that he made of his own accord. His heart ached with nervousness and guilt. Things were going to shit and sooner or later, and Makima would catch the smell of a traitor on his ass eventually.
But there was a silver-lining to the whole situation: Makima could be beaten. She wasn't entirely untouchable; the Yakuza's little sting against her proved as much. The fact of it alone soothed a bit of his ever-growing anxiety. All was not lost!
Sedatives, thinking outside what was logical, and a lot of grit should, hypothetically, defeat the elusive red-haired menace.
Only thing Giran was lacking right now was the aforementioned grit and balls to go full-on offensive against such a staggering monster. He'd have to bide his time, plan out something doable, and pray to any omniscient being out there that he'd make it out of this shit-hole alive.
Deep breathes, Giran. Deep breaths…
But how could he calm down?! There was a literal walking psychopath roaming the streets of Musutafu untouched and hidden so deep like a tapeworm in a bear's guts! He highly doubted the police would catch her in time, or at all if this keeps up.
He'd have to tell someone who'd take action - anyone who could truly unravel the mysteries of an elusive figure.
It'd have to be Tsukauchi… But how could I trust such a fella?
Going to a man who's probably got Makima's ear pressed right up to his lips would be a sure-fire way to ring the dinner bell to his brutal death. No, he couldn't go to the man; he was compromised already.
Who else could operate under that creepy watching eye of Makima's…?
Wait… Eye…
His grin doubled into a Cheshire grin.
"Ha-ha! You fucking genius, Giran!" He said to himself with glee.
Of course! How could he not have thought of that spindly bastard sooner?
If Detective Tsukauchi couldn't figure out the sheer-mindfuckery that Makima was up to - a guy with a spot-on quirk - literal embodiment of all-seeing through bullshit - could likely do it.
Only issue was trying to get a hold of the cold Pro without sounding suspicious as hell.
Giran couldn't just send the man a letter telling him 'Hey, I need help unraveling the plot of a murdering psychopath with multiple quirks,' as a simple gesture of goodwill. No, he'd have to figure out how to get the guy to come out of his agency situated near Jakku and make a beeline straight to Musutafu.
Something to ring up the alarm for the spindly guy to sniff around. The likelihood of it was low, yet it was Giran's only other option.
In that meantime he'd have to study and look through the hours of CCTV footage off of Asuka's laptop. There had to be something in there that could give him hints on how to beat Makima-
The phone ringing in his pocket nearly sent his entire soul to heaven as his heart stopped. He hesitantly picked up the flip-phone and sighed in relief upon seeing the caller ID. Opening it with a lesser-scared-shitless heart-rate, he placed it onto his ear.
"Kurogiri!" He blurted out with relief and a shaky voice. "Just the guy I needed to speak to!"
"Oh? Well, I was actually hoping to ask the same of you, Giran. My benefactor has need of your expertise again in finding elite and formidable individuals."
Giran laughed, shaking his head as he paced back and forth. "Funny… It took a lot of contacts to get you and your brat a whole slew of criminals and villains to sally behind that USJ plot. Wasn't easy convincing those dunderheads to agree to it either, you know." This was good though, he could call in a favor right now.
Kurogiri was nice like that - the man seemed cool-headed enough to not deny him such a simple request of being put under protection.
"I'll think about that if you can let me hold up in your bar, or wherever you stay these days."
"May I ask why?" Kurogiri's voice sounded a bit guarded.
Giran wanted to slap the man through the phone for asking such a ridiculous question. Instead of berating his only get-out-of-death card, he took a reassuring breath.
"Let's just say our red-headed friend might be more than angry with me soon. I've had a few run-ins with ambitious Yakuza down here at Musutafu, and… it didn't go well. You get me out of here, and I can get you some fine diamonds out of the rough sludge that is Musutafu as soon as I'm able." Giran fidgeted in his own couch as he sat down, tapping his foot, praying he was given this one bail-out.
The call was silent for a bit as it sounded like Kurogiri was talking to someone else - Giran prayed to whatever God was out there that it wasn't the brat. That little teenage ball of pent-up rage was less than stellar when it came to decision-making.
"Hm… After some thought, I've been given the go-ahead to allow you to hunker down here in Kamino. You're not the only one who's been put off by our red-haired friend's recent antics. We've assembled some plans to deal with her in due time. For now, the chaos of her actions have worked to our benefit to work in the shadows. "
Giran took some deep breaths, trying to calm his surging heart of crying out in joy. He scrambled out of the guest room and began to pack a few essentials. There was no time to fold anything as he tossed a few electronics haphazardly into a duffle bag alongside Asuka's laptop.
If there was anything that could give a clue to how Makima's multiple quirks work, it'd have to be inside of Asuka's recordings.
Makima could be beaten. She wasn't invincible. Things were going to be okay once he solved the skewed Rubik's cube that was this enigmatic psychopath.
"It's gonna be alright…" Giran took a few deep breaths to calm his jumpy nerves. "One step at a time, Giran. One step at a damn time." He hastily lit a cigarette, taking a few drags before he felt the cool-humidity of Kurogiri's portal swirling into existence into his living room.
Stepping through the portal and being enveloped in it was always so weird to him. It reminded Giran of being constantly hit in the face by those mist-sprayers that would rest on top of canopy bars when you go under them, or being outside on a cold winter night.
When he'd arrived at the shady-ass bar, Giran half expected it to be a trap. His eyes darted around, making sure Makima wasn't skulking around to make an entrance with an old, 'well, well, well,' type of monologue.
But, thankfully, to his luck, the only person he saw come into view was Kurogiri. The man, nonchalant and serene as ever, was finishing up wiping down the bar counter with a damp rag.
"I wasn't expecting you to cash-in your favor so soon, you know." He said tiredly with a spray bottle in the other hand. "And I understand your… unease considering your current situation."
Giran could only let out a chuckle, his nerves steadying as he plopped down onto the bar stool across from him. "You don't know the half of it… It didn't work, Kurogiri. I'm sure you and your 'benefactor' are well aware of what I'm talking about."
Kurogiri sighed. "Indeed we do. As I said on the phone earlier, we have contingencies in place to take care of her."
Giran barked out a laugh, his palms outstretched onto the semi-wet counter. "In due time, huh? And when is that by the way? I'm just really curious because the longer you wait, the more likely that psycho will turn her eyes on you guys."
"She has no reason to; it is clear she has a goal in mind and we aren't part of it, at least, for now we think."
"Oh? And you just happen to know it?"
"No. If we had known what it was, my master would've gladly dangled it over her head like a carrot on a stick. Until then, we remain neutral."
Again, Giran laughed. "You're underestimating her is what you're doing." He leaned in closer. "If you were a wise guy, you'd know when to pull the right card out."
"Even if she became too chaotic, I'd reckon All-Might or another Pro Hero will finally catch wind of it, or, like with all wild cards, the HPSC will."
"The Hero Public Safety Commission?" His expression was in annoyed disbelief. "Bullshit." Giran mumbled, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. "They'd rather kiss ass to whoever is higher up in the world than come and deal with Makima."
"Not unless they deem her quirk useful, which in our case, it is a highly sought after ability." Kurogiri countered. "It won't take long for other countries or international heroes and lowlives to come crawling out of the nooks and crannies for a bite."
"But enough of our rather unhinged colleague; you did promise me you'd find elites worthy of the League."
Tch, it was like that, was it? Not even give him time to drown his sorrows in a bottle and get some much needed sleep. Then again…. He couldn't really argue against the man after being given valuable time and safety. "When do you need them and what exactly are you looking for in these 'elites'?"
Giran took another drag as he listened to Kurogiri's explanations of needing able bodied people who, in good conscience and reason, could lend their aid to the cause. People who'd been dumped out into a puddle of mud by society that wish to make a name for themselves, or lash out with retribution.
Yet the info-broker couldn't fully commit his entire attention to the matter at hand. He was more worried about Makima - what she was doing right now and what she had planned. His eyes glanced down to the duffle bag where Asuka's laptop hides.
In there somewhere is the answer to his questions about the woman, her quirks, and its weaknesses. Anything to put down that monster.
He never should have convened with her in the first place. She'd have been bothering some other crook if he hadn't been cowed so easily by that quirk of hers.
"You're certain?" Tsukauchi asked skeptically to a frizzy-haired forensic scientist, who bobbed her head up in quick response.
"Most certainly, sir! We've searched everywhere for any semblance of viscera, but all we've found was blood." She scratched her head too at the oddity of this. "Whatever happened to these guys wasn't natural or man-made." She said, her voice certain of the findings.
"So what you're saying is that we can scratch out the potential of a weapon being used." Again, the scientist nodded as she continued to waltz around the scene with him. "So this is undoubtedly some sort of… quirk?" The mere thought of someone having the ability to do that to a person made his stomach churn. It was just another power in the wrong hands.
Moving away from the idea for now, he looked at the girl and pointed upwards toward the ceiling. "Have we pulled the CCTV's for any footage? Maybe our perp was nearby."
At the shake of her head, Tsukauchi let out a groan. "Damn it… What did you find?'
"Well, we ruled out the possibility that the person was nearby. The boys and I think this is likely a long-range type of quirk from the looks of it. Not to fret though; we have some of our best running through nearby buildings and the upper floors of this mall."
"Good. You get to that." He waved the girl off and walked about the scene, pulling his notepad out, eyes scanning like a robot to find any discrepancies that might've been missed. Not too far from the scene was another news crew slinking around, trying to find the money-shot backdrop - eager to squeeze dry a new story out of this whole horrific debacle.
"Is the camera rolling?" A woman in a beige overcoat and black office skirt asked, a microphone held close to her chin as she waited for her crew to give her a thumbs up.
It took mere seconds for the crew to adjust the camera, give her the go ahead, and she beamed at the camera. "Wonderful!" Her entire body shifted into a professional posture alongside a trademark reporter expression.
"Good evening, Musutafu! I'm Fumi Nakamura, reporting live from Takoba Mall!" She paused, gesturing to a backdrop of the mall's main plaza. " This is where a grim scene straight out of a horror flick occurred not even an hour ago."
Tsukauchi could tell that this Fumi was clearly no stranger to the game of journalism, and she played it very well given how good and confident she looked. The reporter zipped her head over to a couple anxious bystanders - shoving a microphone into their faces. "Standing next to me are several witnesses who've claimed to have seen the disaster unfold before their very eyes."
Tsukauchi shook his head at how the woman began to question the nervous looking people whom he himself just interviewed not too long ago. They fumbled their words, repeated themselves, or got quiet after suddenly being told they were on live television.
He couldn't blame them. That kind of pressure after being cornered by authorities like him would usually do that to someone.
Behind the detective, cameras clicked as the forensics team began taking more photos of the grisly scene within a blood-splattered mall plaza. More hazard tape was being sectioned out by two officers to keep the crime scene under a secure location.
Laid out across the once pristine marbled flooring of the mall were two pairs of men's clothes which were in large puddles of blood. Four forensic scientists were glued to the site like ticks, carefully analyzing the area for clues.
It was the fifth case that he'd made a trip to today; all of it playing out in a similar manner. People reported seeing a person panicking, trying to run, scream, or howl before suddenly turning into a mist of blood.
Previous CCTV footage he'd looked at from other victims all ended in the same, horrific demise. Squished like some sort of bug under a hydraulic press… And they were aware of it somehow. Each one panicking and saying something along the lines of 'something's wrong' or a mixture of hyperventilating and jumbled mercy pleas.
Tsukauchi rubbed at his temples; it was like a reflex these days. A way to soften the blow of the rising headache which dared to make itself known.
First he'd have to drum up a report on what was found; go do rounds around the mall to find possible vantage points with those who went scurrying off; answer varying questions from so many journalists….
The list went on and on. It was getting a tad bit tedious with everything coming in now that the Sports' Festival is set to happen soon.
Beside him, a feline hand touched his shoulder to get his attention."Sir, what do we do about the reporters?" Sansa asked, his fur askew as he'd been pushing past the large crowd being barricaded off by the police. "They've been clamoring to get an answer from you."
Right…. The reporters. As if his day couldn't get any worse. People demanded to know about the various sudden explosions of people that happened all across the city. It didn't make any sense to him as there was not even a shred of their body parts in the vicinity.
Tsukauchi sighed and stepped forward, putting on a reassuring smile for the public. "People, please. Calm down. I need you all to calm down."
He waited for the crowd to simmer down while a few of the usual journalists and reporters pushed past their peers to get a question.
"Detective!"
"Over here, Detective!"
"Tsukauchi!"
He pointed over to a young woman with big glasses who had a notepad and pen in her hands. "Do you think this is a ploy by the League of Villains? Have they finally skulked out of the shadows?"
People hummed and nodded, waiting for Tsukauchi to answer, and all he could do was shake his head. "I can neither confirm nor deny that."
He continued to answer other trivial questions, some irrelevant, others too sensitive to the case, and a few that were just stupid.
People wanted to know, and he knew that their worries were justified. You can't just go about your day now knowing that you saw a person explode in a mall of all places.
Whether this was a terrorist attack or something by the League of Villains left much to be desired. He didn't deign to tell these people that this appeared to be the work of a quirk yet. It would no doubt cause immense panic than necessary.
One thing he did connect the dots to with all the subsequent explosions so far was that of the people who had died - all had connections to the Yakuza.
Some were high-ranking lieutenants, others mere grunts, and a select few were infamous patriarchs. Now, the only legacy of these types of crooks was their very blood seeping into the dirt or, in this case, the mall's flooring.
Was this the work of a twisted vigilante? Maybe some blood-feud between rivaling families?
No, he shook his head. Most Yakuza despised the ideas of quirks. This had to be the work of an outsider then, but who?
More questions than answers for the detective as he waved off the forensic team goodbye. Today will no doubt be filled with reports to write, people to talk to, and more dots to connect.
The two pushed past the crowd of bystanders and reporters to the mall's main exit. They walked with a quick stride to find the underground parking lot.
"Ah, sir, I was going to let you know earlier, but Hayakawa clocked back in, and asked to see you."
"At the station?" He asked, seeing his feline comrade nod. "Good… I'd like to ask where she's been; I've been swamped with too much." Tsukauchi knew he was going to give a firm scolding and a warning to her about taking an unexpected leave of absence without telling him.
Focusing off from that, Tsukauchi and Sansa found their car, unlocking the doors and sitting inside with a tired groan.
"Where to next, sir?"
"Take us to this Hospital." He watched as his feline friend began tapping some directions into a GPS without question and shifting the parked police car to drive.
"I've got word that Mirko's finally conscious not too long ago." Tsukauchi said, flipping through his notepad. "Doctor's say she's trying to get back onto the field, and I'd rather get some answers before she goes hopping off to an early retirement."
With her eye-witness account, he could solve at least one of the problems that had stacked itself onto his many cases he had to solve.
Upon arriving at the Hospital with notepad and Sansa in tow, the two were immediately greeted with a hurried expression on one of the Doctor's faces - her brow filled with worry.
"Detective! Thank goodness you're here; come, come, quick!" She stormed off back into the building. They followed her as she began ranting about how Mirko had been less than cooperative since waking up.
"Ever since she woke up, she's been asking to be discharged, but she's still got to go through screenings, MRI's, and to schedule a physical therapy! It's simply ridiculous with how outrageous she's been! Please, knock some sense into her and save my poor nurses and interns from any more of this nonsense."
Tsukauchi gave the woman a curt bow and stepped inside the room - Mirko standing on one leg and the other a carefully wrapped nub. She was currently leaning on an IV pole with a grimace.
The Detective knew how prideful the Pro Hero Mirko was, and her being crippled with one missing leg and an arm, must've dealt a decisive blow to her.
"Ms. Rumi, you shouldn't be out of bed–" The young nurse pleaded.
"I ain't sittin' pretty all day at this damn hospital! Not when that psycho's still out there–" She barked out with a glare. Her eyes full of fury soon landed on Tsukauchi. "Detective! Come and tell this girl that I'm fit as ever."
"Rumi…" He sighed, shaking his head and gesturing for her to sit back down onto the bed. It was like a silent battle between the two as she mean-mugged him for a minute before letting out a huff, plopping down with another glare to her missing limbs.
When it looked like she had finally calmed down, he scooted closer with one of the nearby chairs in the room. "Look, I understand you're angry, but right now I need your words and story."
"Tch… Don't tell me you've been waitin' on my ass to wake up to solve this." She let out a shaky sigh when Tsukauchi's silence served as an answer. "You're tellin' me you haven't caught her yet?"
"Her?" Tsuakauchi's head tilted.
"The goddamn Control Killer! Who else do you think I'm talking about?!" She retorted with a furrow in her brow before realization dawned on her. "Holy hells, you guys really don't know?"
"She was there?" Tsukauchi said in astonishment, like an epiphany had finally been given to him. He had his pen on the paper. "Tell me everything. Start to finish."
Mirko huffed, crossing her arm to her chest, her gaze still lingering onto her missing limbs. "Tch… She was there alright; tussling around like she was some bigshot with the Yakuza of all people."
"Yakuza… What were they–"
"Can't tell ya much beyond that; as soon as I saw guns and a fight to brew I jumped into the fray." Mirko replied in a prideful tone and expression.
With such an answer as that, Tsukauchi wilted into the chair before straightening his posture. "But you fought her though? What was she like? Her ability–"
"She's got more than one quirk, Detective." She cut him off. "Some sorta, eh… Chain ability that controls the victims. Saw them go into her opponents to try and trap me in a killbox of bullets. She's able to have multiple targets under her beck and call. Tried to figure out how it worked, but, one thing's for sure…" Mirko leaned closer, her eyes narrowed. "It's got prerequisites to activate."
She sighed and shuffled in her bed, opting to lay back down, her glare aimed up at the white ceiling. "Can't tell ya what those are even if I tried. All I know for a fact is that it didn't apply to me."
Tsukauchi's pen scribbled down the findings as he hummed in thought.
If it's got a requirement for her to establish control, then why does it work on multiple people and not on Mirko? Is there a cool down? Maybe a limit to how many she could have and Mirko got lucky?
"What else have you gleaned from that fight?"
"Girl's built like a truck, I'll tell you that. I'd think she's got another quirk besides that cowardly control ability. Gave her cracked ribs, a whole routine of heavy-hitting blows to the chest–"
"You know you're supposed to hold back on villains, Mirko… Everyone–"
"Deserves a chance of fair trial, yadda, yadda, yadda, Detective. Clearly that unspoken rule shouldn't apply to this woman." Mirko groaned and rolled her eyes at his conflicted face. "I know ya wanna see justice to all those affected by her, but with this villain, she's too far gone. Better I gave her internal bleedin' than let her walk around in Tarturus. Lotta crap that did, though… Every attack I did didn't phase her one bit. It's like she's got some hyper regeneration quirk."
Regeneration, an ability to control multiple people, but then…
His eyes gazed at her missing arm and leg. "Then those are…"
"Yep - her third quirk." Mirko said in a quiet voice, raising her bandaged nub up to view. "Something to do with air pressure, maybe an invisible projectile, but it sure as hell gave me some war scars, that's for sure—Wait…" Mirko paused, glaring with her ear titled up, her other hand telling Tsukauchi to stop writing
She flashed her signature grin with a throaty chuckle. "Heh… Tryin' to cut me off like I'm some flimsy loose end. That's damn right insulting, treatin' me like a dog to be put down in the background."
Mirko groaned and tried sitting up, hissing in pain, but reaching for the IV pole nonetheless with a determined look. "Nah, I don't think so, Control Killer. Mirko's not goin' down without a fight… Hah…" She winced in pain before hiding that expression behind another smile.
"Mirko…?" Tsukauchi whispered, reaching into his trench-coat for his gun and quickly planting himself in a hunched position behind the hospital bed.
"These ain't no random thugs making a name for themselves, this is targeted; didn't think it'd be so quick though…" Mirko said, hobbling over to the corner of the door with a fist at the ready. They both waited in silence until Tsukauchi could hear the sound of multiple footsteps echoing out in the corridor….
The Rabbit Hero's ears rested onto her head as her eyes widened. "Get down!" She roared out, leaping over to Tsukuachi's position and covering his body with her own.
Not a moment sooner did a hail of bullets spray out from outside the door and walls - some ricocheting and striking the hospital monitors and bed.
"Grahhh, assholes!" Mirko hissed out; Tsukauchi's eyes followed her own as she stared at the grazes she'd suffered from the bulletstorm. The Rabbit Hero was about to leap up and make a dastardly charge, but the Detective hastily snatched her wrist, stopping her.
Immediately Mirko's head snapped back down to him with fury.
"Follow my lead!" Tsukauchi yelled.
"Like hell I am! I'mma knock their teeth–"
"And risk dying in your state?! Don't even! Just do as I do!"
Mirko gave Tsukauchi a glare before groaning. "You're lucky I'm missin' two important things of mine right now!" She waited for his signal.
When the storm of bullets stopped and it sounded like the shooters were reloading, Tsukauchi's voice cried out. "Now!" The two rose from the hunkered down spot and pushed the bed onto its side to act as a shield as they ran it towards the door.
They kept the shield rush going til they made contact with the door's frame.
"Did you get a look at them?" He asked, checking to see the men were still busy reloading what looked to be assault rifles with undeterred expressions on their faces.
"Yep - got the same look them bozo Yakuza's did when the Control Killer got 'em; this is her doing all right."
"Damn it - let me try and radio in my support on the outside." He reached for his radio tucked onto his belt. "Sansa! Report!"
"Sir! It's chaos out here - we got Yakuza of all sorts out on the premise–" The radio cut off as it sounded like Sansa had been engaged in a firefight.
"Tch…Should have some Pro's comin' by any second now… Ain't no way people would be ignoring all these gunshots!" Mirko said, taking some deep breaths and looking at Tsukauchi with a nod. "We gotta rush 'em or else we're as good as dead–"
More shots rang out from outside as bodies began dropping to the floor….
Tsukauchi and Mirko looked confused before shoving the makeshift shield down towards the door - their eyes finding the bodies of the men who had been shooting at them.
Down the hallway on the left was none other than Detective Hayakawa - her hair disheveled and her own trenchcoat drenched in blood.
Relief surged through his entire body as he tried to lend his shoulder to Mirko to lean on, but the Rabbit Hero scoffed and opted to use the wall to be her support as she hopped with him towards their rescue crew.
"You're a sight for sore eyes, Hayakawa…." He sighed before gripping her shoulder with a firm hand and giving her a glare. "May I also ask where the hell you were this past week?!"
The woman gave a tired smile and pointed to the dead Yakuza on the floor. "I'll tell you later once we get to the station, but it did involve them. Everyone else has been filled in."
He couldn't argue with that considering the current situation. "How's the outside?"
"Dangerous. Endeavor should be arriving soon to offer support." Her eyes roamed over his body - appraising his health. She patted him down. "Are you injured at all?"
"Just a graze, nothing too serious."
"Well, I'm glad you're doing alright. I didn't think you'd be here, you know?"
Tsukuachi barked out a laugh. "Says the person who went missing, but… I am glad you're alive and well." He said sincerely, his hardened expression softening.
Hayakawa smiled back at him, though her gaze left his as she looked to Mirko being helped up onto a stretcher.
The Rabbit Hero was being a nuisance to the medics, berating them and talking aloud about how she fought valiantly despite her injured state. Tsukauchi chuckled at the sight.
If anything good came out of this, it was the fact that his eye-witness of the Control Killer was safe and secure. He'd get more answers.
And at that moment, Hayakawa's category of smiles aided his understanding of her, and right now… He caught the barest glimpse of something from the wide array of enigmatic expressions he'd categorized.
What he saw in her smile was…
Disappointment.
AN: Happy New Years! Here's to a new year of resolutions, changes, and hopeful joy!
Apologies my fellow Makima connoisseurs for the rather year-long delay. I had to lock-in as they say for a while.
Finishing up college and then getting wrapped up in work has been stressful to say the least. It didn't allow me any time to sit down and continue this, at least until now!
So here is the long-awaited 18th chapter of A Twisted Influence! Consider it my New Year's gift to you all for being so faithful and kind to me. I'll always cherish you all!
Don't mind the many types and stuff. It's been a long time since I got to write something creatively rather than academically, lol.
Take care, friends! And here's to 2025!