Drip drop, drip drop, the rain gently hit the windows as the sky opened wide and lightning hit off of the distance, swallowing the anguished screams coming from the little house.
Cries and pleas to stop, to make it all stop, once and for all. One more time, the screams stopped for a minute before continuing once again, and again and again, like an endless loop stuck on replay.
Kurayami watched as Kai Chisaki kept disassembling and then reassembling one of their former members. Uyehara Hisao was a man who worked for their organization for the past five years as one of their guard dogs, before that he was a small-time villain who was caught by an underground hero.
You may wonder how that man ended up strapped in a chair and being tortured by one of their rising stars; Apparently, he sold information about their business to their rival Okada Shuji. Information, that cost them millions of yen, Ito-Sensei was not pleased, in fact, he was a raging storm. Simon-Sensei had told him to avoid him that week if not for the month. The atmosphere was tense, and filled with nerves, only their most trustworthy members were safe. Unfortunately, even after three years of living in this hell, Kurayami was not inside the trust cycle... Everyone knew that his stay wasn't permanent and all it took was one mistake, one slip-up; his only reason to stay was his grandmother. This is why he was always on watch, his quirk even though it wasn't destructive, it was far too useful to the Shie Hassaikai, making him a "pawn" they absolutely did not want to lose.
Ever since the "blood lake warehouse" as the press named it, he was taken under Simon's wing, she taught him hand-to-hand combat, escaping arts, information gathering, hacking, and even marksmanship. Being a realist though, his hand-to-hand had a lot of openings, Simon was a light way fighter much like him, but unlike him, she had speed and reach, his only saving grace in this aspect was his agility, not to say his speed was pathetic it was actually above average but compared to hers he was like a turtle. His escape arts left much to be desired, information gathering and intelligence work were one of his greatest aspects along with his pain tolerance, which was one of the highest in the Yakuza thanks to Ito-sensei. He despised that man as much as he feared him. His most impressive skill though was his hacking, unexpectedly he had a gift for it.
Tonight it was Kai's turn to 'babysit' him, and he passionately hated every aspect of it. He had grown immune to the gore of the Yakuza but Kai took it to a whole other level. Despite that, he still maintained a facade of cold indifference.
"What's the point of this? we already have all the information we need." He asked in a bored tone.
"The point my dear ~Kuhai~ is to teach him and everyone who wishes to betray us a lesson" Kai replied, putting extra poison in the word Kuhai. It was no secret of the bad blood between the two, Kai despised him for the lack of loyalty and cold persona while Kurayami knew from firsthand experience how his quirk felt.
When the two first met, Kai saw him as the cure to the 'disease of quirks', of course, Ito-Sensei put a stop to his fantasy before it even began, and he partnered the two up making a surprisingly good team. They worked together multiple times, Kurayami's information Gathering and Kai's destructive powers made a terrifying duo. Then on one particularly bad day Kurayami couldn't take it anymore and tried to leave, he was caught before he could even make it to the train, hands bound by quirk-suppressing cuffs. Before that Ito-Sensei would resort to broken bones and a few stitches for every failed 'mission' or bad training results, but after that he decided he needed a lesson that would stick, hence Overhaul.
Unable to completely nullify Kai's quirk because of the cuffs, the process of disassembling became much slower as it had to fight the nullification, and that only made it even more painful. With each reassembling, the disassembling became slower and slower as his nullification grew stronger and yet unable to completely nullify it, making it even more torturous.
By the third round of disassembling and reassembling, he had stopped screaming, by the eighth time he was able to keep his facade up.
"In the end, he's going to die anyway, you're just wasting our time"
"What I'm doing is teaching a lesson"
"To whom? the guy is as good as dead and we are the only two people here. If this lesson is meant for me you forget I already know the feeling"
"Shut up" Kai exploded using his quirk in a manic rhythm. His eyes had a crazed glint over them, and his lips were upwards. He was enjoying this too much in Kuroyami's humble opinion. With a sigh, he pulled his gun off his hip and aimed. The moment Uyehara's head was reformed he shot. Blood trailed off of the bullet wound in the middle of the man's forehead, blending in with tears, snot, and sweat.
Seeing his victim's lifeless eyes he turned back to the nine-year-old who was now aiming at him. His eyes had lost the manic glee but now they were filled with rage.
"You've been at it for over an hour now, I'm pretty sure my ears got damaged from all the screaming and I got bored," The kid said in his usual bored tone.
"You had no right..."
"Actually I did" Kurayami interrupted him "Just as you're supposed to be keeping an eye on me, I'm supposed to act as your brake... Get your shit together" Kai pressed his tongue in his teeth making a tch noise before muttering something suspiciously as 'damn brat'. Muttering curses under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he turned away from Kurayami. His jaw clenched, a silent indicator of his frustration and anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Kurayami maintained his composed demeanor, his unwavering gaze fixed upon Kai, waiting for any flicker of response. It was a well-learned lesson for Kurayami to never drop his guard, particularly in the presence of someone as unpredictable and volatile as Kai Chisaki. Despite the facade of tranquility he displayed, a subtle yet distinct unease enveloped his being, nestling deep within the very core of his belly. The disquietude was undeniable, refusing to dissipate. The nagging sensation within Kurayami intensified, an ominous foreboding hinting at an impending escalation, a surge of events that would take their encounter into uncharted territories of intensity and complexity.
As Kai furiously stormed off, leaving behind a trail of unresolved emotions, Kurayami, gripped by a whirlwind of thoughts, took a moment to regain his composure. His mind raced with a multitude of scenarios, each one presenting a different path, a different consequence. The tension within the secretive and shadowy organization had steadily been mounting for weeks, like an impending storm gathering its strength, and this latest incident only served to pour more fuel onto the already raging fire.
With a heavy sigh that seemed to echo in the dimly lit room, Kurayami instinctively tightened his grip on the cold, unforgiving metal of his weapon. With a heavy sigh, he cast an intrepid glance around the dimly lit room,the atmosphere was heavy with the scent of desperation and despair, as if the very air itself carried the weight of countless untold stories.
But it was the sight of Uyehara's lifeless body sprawled motionless on the worn-out chair, body bound and blood oozing from the hole in his cranium, that sent an icy shiver cascading down Kurayami's spine. It was a chilling reminder, etched into his soul, of the ruthless brutality that lay dormant within the ranks of the Yakuza, concealed beneath their polished veneer of tradition and power. In that fleeting moment, when his eyes locked onto the lifeless form of his former comrade, he tasted the bitter undertones of fear mingling with the harsh realities of his existence. It was a visceral reminder of the unforgiving nature of their world, where the price of betrayal was measured in blood and where trust could be a double-edged sword that cut deep.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Months slipped away unnoticed, gradually turning into a blur of time since that fateful night entrenched within the murky confines of the Yakuza's stronghold. Kurayami found solace in the quiet moments spent with his bedridden grandmother, a precious respite from the chaos and brutality of his life in the underworld. Despite the constant threat looming over him, these stolen moments of tranquility brought a sense of warmth and comfort that he desperately clung to.
As the afternoon sun cast a golden hue through the lace curtains, Kurayami sat by his grandmother's bedside, gently turning the pages of a well-worn book. The aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of lavender. His grandmother's weathered hand rested in his, her grip weak but filled with unwavering love and affection.
Kuroyami's soft voice filled the room as he read Robin Hood, which was their tradition, drank tea, and read books. Ever since he was younger his grandmother was responsible for his academic education and she had made sure to pass her love of literature to her grandson, just like she did with all her children. And just like her youngest Kiyoshi, Kurayami had a passion for literature, he became enthralled by the pages of each book.
"Robin Hood nodded solemnly, his jaw set with resolve. "Fear not, Maid Marian," he declared, his voice ringing clear in the night air. "For as long as I draw breath, I shall fight for the rights of the downtrodden and the oppressed. Together, we shall defy the Sheriff's tyranny and restore hope to the people of Sherwood." He recited, making his voice deeper as he tried to match Robin's voice. Perhaps his love for dramatics was the only thing that could compete for his love of reading.
His grandmother chuckled lightly at his theatrics and Kuroyami's chest puffed with pride. Gone was the stoicism when he was with her, he could act a little more like his age, laugh, and smile without the fear of getting his emotions ripped out of him. Those moments of peace were all he had. He hated the Shie Hassaikai but if he left he would lose his only solace so he stayed, he stayed for those little moments.
His grandmother believed he was attending a boarding school, coming back each weekend to spend time with his family. How ironic, the only person he could be his truest self, was submerged in a sea of lies and illusions. It pained him, to say all those lies to his grandmother; every time she asked how was your week? or what did you learn at school? Have you made any friends; all the normal questions a loving grandmother would ask, he had to create elaborate and careful tales to feed her. "School is boring as usual" "Konda-Sensei has been anxious lately, the older kids said they heard him muttering about diapers" "I prefer books though I've been spending my time in the library with Hada-san he likes reading just as much as me" All those measured lies that threaded a new persona, a new mask named Kurayami Fukumoto, a struck difference from Zaiaku of Shie Hassaikai.
His uncle became a ghost in his life, rarely seeing him, and when he did they only exchanged glances filled with hate. When Kuroyami relocated to the Hassaikai's central he was introduced with that horrible nickname his uncle had given him, Zaiaku meaning Sin, it was meant to remind Kurayami of his roots as a bastard, an unknown father, a mistake of his mother, a meaningless one-night stand ending with a burden. But he knew his mother never saw him as such, therefore, he never once let those harsh words of his uncle affect him, they only managed to feed that little ball of hate inside him towards that despicable man who shared blood ties with him.
"You should join the drama club" His grandmother's voice broke through his dark thoughts. "With your love for dramatics, you will exceed in it, and you'll get to meet people with whom you share interests with..."
"Are you implying I'm being dramatic?" Kurayami exclaimed with mock hurt, ignoring the jab for his lack of friends.
"What I'm doing is merely pointing out the obvious. Sweety no offense, but you're a drama queen much like your grandfather was" Kurayami could swear he felt an arrow pierce his pride.
"Saying no offense doesn't make it less offensive baa-chan" he said with a pout, trying to suppress the warm smile threatening to take place.
It was in these precious moments that time seemed to stand still, the outside world fading away as Kurayami and his grandmother lost themselves in the pages of the book. For a brief, fleeting moment, the weight of his reality melted away, replaced by the simple joy of shared moments and cherished memories.
But as the weeks passed by, the reality started feeling heavier and heavier, eventually coming crashing back with brutal force, as time once again started blurring.
Kurayami's grandmother's health had been steadily declining, her frail body unable to withstand the ravages of time and illness. With each passing day, her strength waned, her once vibrant spirit fading like a dying ember.
"«I feel so unhappy» I'm sure that this one phrase whispered to me would arouse my sympathy more that the longest, most painstaking account of a woman's life." Kurayami read out loud, as he sat in his chair beside his grandmother's bed, his voice soft as he read 'No longer human', stealing glances at her. Her skin was pale as a porcelain's, her breaths were a little swallow, and her eyes were closed, a small peaceful smile on her face. Kurayami kept looking at the rise and falling of her chest the only indication she was alive, he just wanted to be sure. He sighed, a small barely audible sound as he softly closed the book.
"Why did you stop reading dear?" She asked him with a hoarse voice.
"You need to rest" He said softly.
"All I do is rest, please keep going, I love listening to you reading" And so he did, even as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows lengthened and her breaths evened out but were still as swallow.
Putting the book down he took his grandmother's hand to his. In the quiet hours of the night, he sat vigil by her bedside, his heart heavy with grief and sorrow. Silently praying for a miracle that would never come. He could do nothing but hope. He fell asleep her hand still in his. And as he woke up with the first light of dawn, the early sun rays decorating his grandmother in golden hues, her soft smile still on her face, and her hand held a little tighter in his, he felt peaceful.
Until that peace shuttered in pieces as her chest didn't rise again, her peaceful passing, left behind a void that could never be filled. His world shuttering, the fragile illusion of normalcy crumbling to dust. He wept silently by her side clutching her hand.
He knew that now the chains around him would tighten barely leaving him any space to breathe, a fire started burning within his soul, a determination to break free from the chains that bound him and forge his own path, no matter the cost.
And so he slipped away, hiding in the shadows of his old home, stowing away at an unassuming guard's car as he drove back home.
As the stores opened, he silently slipped inside one and took some clothes. Pulling the black hood of his oversized hoodie over his head, concealing his face.
He used dark alleys to get around trying to escape from Osaka. Eventually arriving at the train station, blending with the crowd, stealing a ticket was easy enough. Of course, he didn't expect to leave without confrontation.
"It didn't work last time, why would you think it would now?" Simon asked him, her tone as bored and dull as always.
"In my defense, I was expecting Kai, not you"
"He's nothing without his quirk..." She said with a cutting edge, she always hated Kai relying on his quirk, even though he thought of them as nothing as a disease, the hypocrite. "I'm sorry for your loss" She said, voice a little softer.
"Is that emotion I'm detecting in you Sensei?" He asked with a small bitter chuckle.
"I don't want to hurt you"
"Then don't... just let me go"
"You know I can't do that, my loyalties are with the Shie Hassaikai"
"mh, you won't risk starting anything in this crowd," he said as more people squeezed into the train trying to get to their seats.
"Do you really want to risk it?"
"I'll take my chances" The train slowly started moving
"Even if you leave now, you'll be found out, you will always be on the run... Do you really want that?"
"Better than being nothing more than a slave for the Hassaikai" He muttered as he watched the scenery blurred by his window. "Why are you so loyal to them?"
"Ito-sama saved my life" It was the only thing she offered.
"I'm not so sure about that" He muttered, Simon was the only person he respected and had positive feelings towards, but she was also the most loyal dog he knew, never defying or questioning orders. As the train took them slowly to Kyoto and people started piling out, both of them started tensing, ready for the other to strike.
The moment the final traveler departs, the two of them swiftly spring from their seats. Once the atmosphere ignites with adrenaline, they embark on a thrilling combat sequence, engaging in a relentless display of fisticuffs, cunning kicks, and skilled defensive maneuvers. Their actions unfold with such rapidity and accuracy that they serve as undeniable proof of their unrivaled expertise in the art of martial arts. With an impressive combination of combat styles at their disposal, encompassing the fluidity of Wing Chun, the grappling finesse of Judo, and the tactical aggression of Krav Maga, they square off within the confines of the narrow train compartment. Their every move appears like a choreographed dance, each strike a testament to their honed techniques and unwavering determination.
The confines of the train compartment, with its limited space, leave no room for escape and propel them into an exhilarating close-quarters combat where every move counts. As they engage in this fierce battle, their physicality becomes more pronounced, Kurayami's smaller structure and agility are his greatest assets in this fight, countered only by Simon's speed and strength, the intensity reaching new heights.
The impact of each blow exchanged at such close range reverberates through their bodies, echoing with the sheer force and determination that drives them forward. This thrilling clash of adversaries becomes a testament to their unwavering resolve, as their adrenaline surges through their veins, fueling their every movement and propelling their fight to an electrifying crescendo.
Eventually, Simon unveils her gleaming, razor-sharp daggers, ready to escalate the tension. With a swift and calculated motion, she swiftly slashes and thrusts her blades toward Kurayami, leaving no room for respite. The thrill of the fight electrifies the air, intensifying the adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Suddenly, the piercing sound of a door creaking open grabs their attention. Kurayami's eyes fixate on the reflection of a man, completely absorbed in his phone as he nonchalantly enters the scene. With unwavering focus, Kurayami seizes the opportunity, propelled by an exhilarating surge of energy. Springing into action, he lunges towards the trespasser, forcefully evicting him from their shared compartment and ensuring his safety with a resounding thud as the door is firmly locked behind them.
As Kurayami swiftly pivots, sensing a fleeting moment of relief, his heart skips a beat. The perilous dance resumes as Simon strikes once more, this time drawing a crimson trail of blood from Kurayami's left eye. Yet, driven by sheer determination, Kurayami summons his inner agility, eluding Simon's next blow by slipping out from the narrow gap between her legs.
In the midst of this high-stakes altercation, the man, unabashedly bewildered, gawks in disbelief from the other side of the fortified door.
Throughout the exhilarating fight, they masterfully exploit the dynamic surroundings of the train compartment, skillfully harnessing its every nook and cranny to seize a decisive advantage. With remarkable ingenuity and dexterity, they astoundingly transform handrails, seats, and an array of miscellaneous objects into formidable makeshift weapons. Their combat styles intertwine seamlessly with the fluidity of a well-choreographed dance, displaying unparalleled precision and finesse. The train compartment becomes their arena, pulsating with an electrifying energy as they manipulate their impromptu arsenal with stunning flair. Every twist and turn, every acrobatic maneuver they try to take the upper hand. Even half-blinded with blood running down his face Kurayami fights for his freedom.
Allas he begins to feel the weariness and dizziness creeping in, his energy draining rapidly due to the relentless loss of blood. A surge of determination courses through his veins as he realizes that if he persists in this desperate struggle, Simon is going to drag him back. Surrender is simply not an option for him; he refuses to return to the shadows of defeat and surrender, being nothing but a dog. He all but knows Simon won't kill him, the Yakuza sees his quirk as too precious for that.
As the train gradually decelerates, a flicker of hope glimmers in his eyes. At that crucial moment, an idea sparks in his mind, propelling him into swift action. With a swift motion, his hand darts to his back, retrieving his gun. Without hesitation, he takes aim at his elusive opponent, fully expecting Simon to dodge his attack deftly. Her eyes widened at the sight of the gun, knowing far too well that he would kill for his freedom. Just as he predicted Simon evades the onslaught, but the repercussion is more than he anticipated. The window shatters, the shards of glass glinting in the sunlight, adding a touch of chaos to the already destroyed compartment.
Nevertheless, undeterred by the broken barrier, he remains steadfast in his resolve, unloading a barrage of bullets towards her. Each shot fired keeps her at bay, creating a safe distance between them. With every passing second, as the train gradually starts to lose its momentum, his heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of adrenaline pulsing through his veins.
And then, when the opportune moment presents itself, he conjures all his remaining strength, his muscles coiling like springs ready to unleash their power. With a deft, agile movement, he leaps off the train, his body soaring through the air, a fleeting moment of triumph enveloping him.