Chapter Text
It had been three days. Three, damned, days, since Takemichi underwent surgery.
Hinata and Emma were the first ones to visit her at the hospital, arriving with high hopes to see the smile of their cherished blonde friend. Yet, they were given no other choice but to left with spirits shattered. On that same morning, they were informed that Takemichi's condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse.
The nurse had told the girls that Takemichi's airways had been blocked during her checkup—resulting the body into having a seizure attack—and forcing the medical team to rush the girl into another surgery.
The words crushes them like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from their chests.
Thing's couldn't possibly get any worse, the girl thought in unison.
As they walked home that afternoon, Emma gripped Hinata's gloved hand tightly, her eyes swollen and cheeks flushed from crying. The guilt gnawed at her insides yet again, making each step heavier than the last.
Hinata, sensing her friend's despair, decided to ask Granpa Sano if Emma could stay at her place for the meantime. She knew that Mikey wasn't in the right state of mind either, she saw how hollow his eyes were back after the brawl with Tenjiku.
Some space might've help him clear up his mind.
.
.
.
The following day, Mitsuya made his way to the hospital, carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers handpicked by his mischievous little sisters for what they have teasingly called his "date". But once again, Takemichi was still under intensive care in the ICU, so visitors were off-limits.
Mitsuya grimaces at the information, guilt slowly pooling beneath his chest as he thought about how naive he was to let his guard down on the fight against the damned Haitanis. It wasn't considered as a fight anyway, he was fucking ambushed by some rabies Tenjiku's dogs—released from their chocking leash to bite the first person they see.
And unfortunately for Takashi, he was the one they met.
The lavender haired boy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thinks back that maybe, if only Mitsuya invited the girl to have breakfast with him that same morning—although whilst bedridden—she could at least received a lesser fate than this.
"That rascal...I should keep a closer eye on her in the future." He sighed again.
Walking across the hallways, he ran into Baji and Inui, who seem to have the same idea. Both boys clutched their own gifts for the bedridden crybaby, especially Baji, who was basically gripping a neatly done wrapped gift with big blue ribbons as if the boy was too afraid that the wind would took it away.
Baji's face turned red as he explained that his mother had willingly crocheted a blue scarf for Takemichi, and he'd been insistent on finding just the right shade of blue. It was important to him that whenever Takemichi wore it, she'd be able to feel the warmth of his care.
Mitsuya tried so hard not to roll his eyes at the irony, holding his urge to comment how the boy used to bully the girl until she cries, mentally and physically, back when they all thought that the girl was actually a boy.
He'd say that he finds the younger new member's tears to be amusing and cute, Mitsuya called him a dacryphilia lunatic.
They fought shortly after that, of course.
And no, Mitsuya's still not over the fact that Baji, with the utmost sincere respect that he can ever muster towards the other boy, had the fucking audacity to order around Mikey to move Takemichi into the first division.
And their commander agreed.
Now, Mitsuya is known to be the only captain who's able to keep his cool temper, followed along with his fellow dragon twin. But, when Baji stated that Takemichi would be more comfortable around her friend, as in Chifuyu, he couldn’t hold back the face he made to retort back.
To put it short: Takashi was sad, mad, and devastated.
If silky shampoo ambassador really wanted to take a point in that, then he could defend his honor by stating that Hakkai was as close to Takemichi as she is to Chifuyu. Those two always seem to be together, with the addition of Yuzuha and Hinata ever since the fight with Taiju back in December.
But alas, her fate has been sealed, and damn if he wanted to point his middle finger at his childhood friends and say "I fucking told you so."
Inui scoffed at his colleague's childish antics, gently pulling out a sleek designer box from his bag. Inside was a black porcelain shoe which emits silver glitters when hit directly by any light along with tiny heels and a blue ribbon hanging from the heel counter.
Mitsuya tries to hold back the smirk that's creeping out from his lips as his sees Baji's mouth went agape. He had to agree, as a student who's also studying fashion, he can see how those shoes would fit perfectly for Takemichi.
Her eyes would glow even brighter if that's possible.
"So she can wear it to school," Inui said, with a hint of pride in his voice. "So she could also remember the comfort I can give to her whenever she runs and twirls in this shoe." he wanted to add, but decided otherwise. He thought, quite embarrassed, that it sounds too corny for someone like him.
Baji furrowed his eyes as he stepped up to the slightly taller boy, puffing out his chest.
"Hell no! My gift will mean a damn lot more to her!" He argued, smirking as he glared up at the boy. "Know why? Because it was homemade with l-o-v, and not some mass-produced junk from a shady shop in Roppongi." He spat, fingers pointing the older boy's chest.
Mitsuya thought, very distraught by the fact, is that.....his childhood friend can't spell for shit.
Fist formed, he bit his knuckles in silent agony as his gaze locked at the sight of Baji who was loudly boosting how smart he is, before facepalming himself, taking a seat near the bickering teenagers, and let out another tired sigh.
God, he swear he's starting to grow grey hair on his roots. And if so, he's going to shave Baji's hair bald into a horrible excuse of a buzz cut and use his own hair as his wig for a warning upon civil war.
Inui's eyes twitched for awhile before he grabbed a fistful of Baji's long hair, making the younger boy bark a curse at him.
Shit, don't hurt his hair too much Inui! Mitsuya said silently to himself as he stares at the unfolding scene in front of him with a blank gaze.
Baji, in turn, tried to push Inui's face away with one hand while holding his dearest gift tightly in the other.
Mitsuya groaned, "I think this is finally my que," he muses before slowly standing up, straightening his sore back from pacing around the park five times this morning—the result of his sisters remark regarding Takemichi.
The boy moved towards the ongoing battle of Godzilla vs Kong, and tried his best to push them apart with a hand on each chest.
Jesus—it's not even ten in the morning!!!
"Guys, for fucks sake—please just behave yourself. Did you forgot that we're still in the hospital??" He reminded them, exasperated.
His words were heard by deaf ears, so he let out a quiet apology to Baji's newly washed and dried hair, and tugged it down—away from Inui's face. After some struggles, Mitsuya managed to get a hold of Inui's ear and pull it, harsh.
Both boys let out a yelp before howling in pain, mainly Baji, who was roughly scrapping his burning scalp. Mitsuya looked at his hand in devastation upon seing some fallen soldiers, Baji's hair, unplugged from its core thanks to Takashi's firm grip.
Forgive me, but your sacrifice would not be in vain.
"What fucking gives Mitsuya?!" Said boy screamed, averting his anger to his childhood friend. Moreso in annoyance.
"It's not even ten and you already got that much energy to scream, if we were blacklisted from this facility because of you, then what would happen to the scarf your mom made for Takemichi?" Mitsuya frowned, crossing his hands as he puts on his scolding look.
Baji, taken aback by his friends statement, quickly looked away—although everyone could see his reddening cheek.
Inui brushed of his crinkled shirt and put his gift back to its supposed bag neatly, making sure to brush off any dust or debris thanks for the salty boy's destruction.
After a few unspoken grumbles and glares against each other, they eventually decided to leave the hospital after handing their gifts to the nurse at the counter to be placed in Takemichi's room later.
Inui felt like he was in ruins when Mitsuya told the bickering boys that Takemichi's condition hasn't gotten any better, especially the fact that she's still under the ICU's intensive monitoring. So with the hopes of seeing the face of his only family left after Koko, Inui truly understood the feeling of loneliness.
Though for some reason, he felt as if he have tasted it before.
The three of them decided to walk out together, each quietly hoping that the next time they visited, it would be to see their crybaby hero awake and smiling again.
.
.
.
On the third day, Chifuyu, Hakkai, and Peh-yan were the ones on duty to visit their friend, but alas they were once again denied the request to visit Takemichi, even though she had already been moved to a private room.
The receptionist seem far too tired and burnout to be dealing with another set of destructious rebel teenagers, so she tiredly told the boys with all the will left in her body to leave the hospital and come back some time later. Promising Hakkai desperately to inform them when the girl finally gained her consciousness.
It wasn't really a nice thing to do, to threaten a public service worker with his intimidating face for informations. But the boys were already more than agitated when they feel as if their present were watched, documented, and played by some sets of game they weren't aware of.
Hakkai have also heard from his captain that yesterday they were denied the access to visit Takemichi, and so the older boy had warned him to be ready for rejection upon arrival.
“Something fishy is definitely going on,” Peh-yan grumbled, aggressively stabbing at his waffles as a way to vent his frustration.
Soon after the boys had heard about the devastating news, mainly Peh-yan, because he lives the furthest away from the hospital, they decided to find solitude in a local cafe which smelled like a tourist trap—but alas, they were annoyed, tired, and most of all–hungry.
They have to force their body awake, take a cold shower, ride the train, even skip breakfast to be the first one to visit Takemichi.
Hearing the news about yesterday's occurrences from Hakkai, Chifuyu had high hopes that today, for the least, they could meet again. Even if she's still resting ever so tiredly, Chifuyu wanted to make sure that he'd be able to see her face once more.
To apologize how the last thing he thought about the girl was anger, angry to the fact that she might have ditch them that night upon the brawl against Tenjiku.
Now, Chifuyu thought bitterly, that it was so far from the truth.
Hakkai only hummed in response, casually stealing a french fry from Chifuyu’s untouched plate. “It’s just standard procedure. She did get into a pretty bad accident, after all.”
Chifuyu slapped Hakkai’s hand away, sighing as he lift his corner lip into a scowl. “I still can’t believe she would hide something like this from us…”
Chifuyu’s mind drifted back to when he and Takemichi first started building their friendship, how she had been so determined to save all of her friends from their inevitable doom. Although that night, he could only stare into her eyes, so beautiful and shining under the moonlight—somehow reminding him of the most precious sapphire jewel in the world.
Maybe he was right to think so, because for him, only Takemichi had that unique ability to draw everyone’s attention, even as she chuckled about keeping her piss-colored hair.
Fuck, how can someone as angelic as her have a father looking like he was crafted from the fifth bottom pits of hell?
“That’s not it, guys,” Peh-yan said, chewing on a strawberry he had swiped from Hakkai’s parfait. “Has anyone from Toman even bumped into Takemichi’s dad since that night?”
Chifuyu blinked a few times, caught off guard by Peh-yan’s question. Come to think of it, none of the captains nor vice captains of Toman had heard anything about the mysterious man who claimed to be Takemichi’s father since she was rushed to the hospital.
Has Hina asked her father the information regarding the mysterious man?
What could be the connection between Hina’s father and Takemichi's in the past anyway?
Somehow, Chifuyu felt a sense of envy that night, both men had seemed like old friends, separated by time and distance. Chifuyu fell silent for a moment, wondering if he and Takemichi would grow old together, still keeping in touch.
He had been so frustrated with her that night, convinced she had lost her mind and abandoned Toman to fight blindly against the monsters of the S-62 generation. No one expected Toman to survive, let alone win this fight. It seemed far too impossible.
The metallic taste of blood coated Chifuyu’s gums, but ever since he learned about the intense struggle Takemichi was going through on her own, he felt an overwhelming urge to fall to his knees and hug her tightly, because he was terrified of losing her.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl into that hospital bed, reeking of disinfectant, and cradle Takemichi’s head, whispering how proud and amazed he was that she had held on for so long.
"You're the best partner anyone could ask for", not even Sherlock could overshine the adrenaline Chifuyu felt whenever both blondes went on a mission.
But he wouldn’t let Takemichi hurt herself again. Not tomorrow, not by any chance.
“You know,” Hakkai said, glancing at his phone, “I haven’t seen nor hear our commander or vice president visit Takemichi either. Have they forgotten about their own friend?” His tone was unamused.
Chifuyu’s gaze landed on the taller boy, who's eyes were too glued to his phone ever since they meet up this morning before taking the train ride towards the hospital.
Hakkai was never one to mind his gadget, only using it to fidget himself at the sight of girls, or most likely his sister texting him. Yeah, Yuzuha might have told her brother to run a quick errand before going home.
“Watch your mouth, Shiba.” Peh-yan snapped. “There’s always tomorrow. Besides, why are you being such a dick, anyway?”
Hakkai lifted his head to stare back at his friend, clearlt a bit startled by his comrade's harsh voice, before quitely averting his gaze towards the busy streets of Shibuya. He chose not to share any much information, at least for the time being. Yuzuha wouldn’t be happy if he leaked the secret they had been working so hard to confirm.
All he could think is that, "damn if only it doesn't hurt that much to keep everything to yourself."
The boy couldn’t think that he could do it any better than Takemichi does.
And for that, his respect towards the girl grew, along with some unspoken feelings deep inside.
_______________
How could any sister not be worried when her little brother came home with his clothes nearly torn apart and his body bruised in shades of blue and purple, revealing the marks of blows?
At that moment, Yuzuha was on the verge of calling Taiju in the middle of the night, ready to give him a piece of her mind for being so ruthlessly harsh to their younger brother.
Ever since he moved away, there was a sense of calmness that surround their house, and as much as she despite Taiju; he's still her brother after all. There were times when Hakkai wasn't born yet, and she could feel like the world only comes around the both of them. They would sneak around the house to take midnight snacks, and Taiju would scold her for being too loud.
Before Hakkai, there was a faint bond between the two. Unlike her little brother, Yuzuha had learned not to be afraid anymore. She knows him more, and it's sad to think that Taiju weren't always like...this, before their mom passed away.
But as Yuzuha looked into her brother's swollen eyes, she realized something—those weren't the eyes of someone who’d been punched by a rival gang.
They were the eyes of someone who had been crying.
"Hakkai...what the fuck?"
It had been so long since Yuzuha last saw her brother shed tears. The last time might have been when their mother passed away. But despite Taiju's harsh discipline, Hakkai had almost stopped crying altogether.
Mostly.
But hey, he looked like someone who's love has been completely burned to the ground, devastated that his spouse has left.
So, as a good sibling who could sense her brother's pain, Yuzuha hurried to grab the first aid kit and firmly ordered Hakkai to sit on the couch.
That same night, she was shaken when her brother shared an utterly unbelievable piece of news with her: who in their right mind would have guessed that Hanagaki Takemichi was actually a girl?
That meant...Yuzuha had let her older brother mercilessly beat Takemichi, standing by helplessly as the petite girl forced herself to stand and fight against Taiju, who was far larger than her.
Although Taiju never personally lay his hands on any woman outside of Yuzuha, she's sure he would have never guessed Takemichi to actually be a girl.
Yeah, she's going to love his bewildered reaction.
Yuzuha vowed to repay that girl, no matter the cost. She would gladly walk through all nine layers of hell if it meant she could fulfill her debt to Takemichi.
Because that stubborn girl had saved her family from their miserable fate.
From that night on, Yuzuha began searching for every piece of information she could find about the girl’s father.
And why the father that is?
Because, Hakkai might be right—Takemichi's father had probably abandoned her when she was very young. Because there is no way that if he had stayed, he would let teenagers barge into their house, and even to let the idea of her joining Toman pass by.
This is the least thing she could do to protect the blonde girl, and as she lay unconscious on the hospital, a new threat that claimed to be her guardian was born.
Hakkai mentioned that Mr. Hanagaki had a tattoo on his left shoulder, blue eyes just the right shade as Takemichi's, jet-black hair, was very tall, and had an aura that made others around him hesitant to approach.
The Shiba siblings' biggest fear was whether Mr. Hanagaki was a good man or not, because they knew all too well what it felt like to be abandoned by their father.
As time passes, people change, either for the better or for the worse. That's what Yuzuha thought. Because her father had did the same thing too, turning from such a loving caregiver into a human shaped nothingness the minute mom died.
.....Would their father have come back if Yuzuha were the one lying weak on a hospital bed, just like their mother before she took her last breath?
No.
Now wasn't the time to think about her own fate, she had to focus on gathering as much information about this mysterious man as possible.
Two days had passed since the battle between Toman and Tenjiku. Earlier that night, Hakkai informed Yuzuha that he, along with Chifuyu and Peh-Yan, would visit the hospital the next morning to check on the small girl who lay there, still unwell.
He had pleaded his sister to rest for the night and reduce her obsession regarding her search for Takemichi's father.
Yuzuha could only scoffed before telling his brother goodnight.
Oh Hakkai, how naïve he was.
Did he have no idea how skilled a girl could be when they're determined to dig up information about someone? And generally, nothing could hide from a girl with Twitter addiction anyway.
The moon had started its slow descent across the sky, signaling to all living things that its shining sibling would soon arise, announcing that rest time was over. At the same time, Yuzuha jolted up and stood so quickly from her study chair that it fell over with a loud thud.
Just when she was about to give up and finally rest her eyes for the night, she stumbled across a comment on a post about Japan's increasing mass tourism; the journalists wrote how good and bad it could impact the nation.
But the news wasn't what caught her attention, it was a particular comment left by someone, who, from the looks of it, seem to dislike the idea of tourist—or foreigners in general.
Yuzuha had stared at the long rant in disgust, rolling her eyes as she meant to press the report button. However, her cursor had accidentally pressed the blogger's name, which led her to its personal account.
Said blog was shapeshifted as some kind of twisted personal diary, and barely anyone had come across this dusty corner of the internet—probably because, honestly, the posts read like some bitter loser’s rants about their friend out of pure jealousy—or hatred, it could be both honestly.
"Don't think I've ever stumbled this place before..." she thought.
These entries dated back up to seventeen years ago, and the author writing them didn’t look like they were stopping anytime soon.
Most of them, if not all, were written about a young man who were stated to cause havoc in the school where they used to go. There were blurry pictures that radiates paparazzi energy, shot by the lense, quick and unsure.
Although...there is something familiar about the man in the pictures. Yuzuha looked over her note at the description of Takemichi’s father that Hakkai had described a few days ago, and looked back at the taken pictures.
With trembling hands, dry, cracked lips that screamed dehydration, and dark circles surfacing underneath her eyes, Yuzuha inched closer to her laptop screen, her nose practically touching it.
Both man had blue eyes, he seemed tall—most likely the athletic type, and a...uhm, oh wow, would you look at that? They had the same tattoo on their left shoulder.
H-holy shit.
...No fucking way.
Is this seriously Takemichi’s dad??
Yuzuha gulped, it could be a different person, of course. She hadn't been the one to see the mysterious man's tattoo, it was Hakkai. And her brother had told her that it was an abstract take of a flower—was it rose?
"I'll have to ask Hakkai about this."
Head feeling heavy, the girl could feel how her fingers shook, her lips were also starting to quiver, with the addition of cold sweat forming around her warm forehead.
Whoever the writer is, and whatever his connection with the foreign troublemaker—of what could be about Takemichi's father— doesn't seem to vent for shit in his blog. Oh no, because their writing was borderline psychotic.
Yuzuha could feel it miles away that Mr.anonymous held a grudge so big that one would think that his rival had just massacred his entire bloodline.
Just around thirty minutes ago, she noticed a new post that had just popped up.
Yuzuha read the tittle and bit her lip, praying anxiously that this was about someone else and not her best friend—alas that hope died quickly when she saw the headline:
“KARMA'S A BITCH: SAY GOODBYE TO THE CRYBABY”
Being shock was such an understatement, but holy fucking shit, was she worried about Takemichi. If Mr.anonymous here was actually a hater towards Mr.Hanagaki, then there's a big chance that he might spite after Takemichi just for being his daughter.
Gripping the edge of her table hard enough to feel a sharp pain on her nails, Yuzuha can't help but to feel distressed about the whole situation. She wanted to cry, she pitied the girl, she wanted to protect the girl.
Slowly, Yuzuha tried to brace herself and scroll down to read the rest of the vile rant, trying not to puke her nonexistent dinner.
But what really made her stomach turn was the photo at the end, she felt as if all of her intestine dropped dead to the cold floor below her.
It was literally gut-wrenching.
In the end of every rant was a picture taken of the same man, although this time, it was different. Yuzuha could catch a close-up shot of a small, blonde teenage girl lying limp in a private hospital room, hooked up to a breathing machine and an IV, with body littered with bruises indicating she’d been tossed after getting hit by a brute force.
Panic rising, she was already trying to hold back her hyperventilation by putting a hand on her chest to soothe herself. Yuzuha tried her best to adjust her breath by keeping a steady mind, slowly praying to God as she zoomed in on the image to make sure.
The room should have been heavily monitored by the standby nurse, right? because even Toman hadn't been able to get past through them.
Soon enough, her breathing was cought in her throat, “A-are you fucking kidding me?!”
The stab wound on her left hand was a dead giveaway.
Tears stricken, that night, Yuzuha screamed as loud as she can, knees too weak to hold her body straight as she weeps on the cold floor. She got a grip of her hair and pulled it, hard.
She couldn’t hold it back any longer.
How could someone possibly enter Takemichi's room??
Reminiscing at the image, Yuzuha noticed that the windows were open. The warm hue painted across her room indicates that it was somewhere near the afternoon that this person had entered Takemichi's room.
What on earth could they possibly be planning for her? And are the journals written in this blog regarding the girl's father to be trusted too?
Takemichi might have a nightmare of a parent, but even so, looking back at the picture of the girl's body made her think that Takemichi was nowhere to be safe.
…is this why she prefered to live alone?
Yuzuha’s stomach churned, and she felt like she was going to throw up every energy drink she’d forced down during her frantic search.
Swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth, Yuzuha copied the blog link, downloaded every post and photo into a single file, and sent it to Hakkai.
She knew her little brother would come complaining in the morning for spamming his phone, but she also knew he’d get why she did it.
To the Shiba siblings, there's nothing in the world they wouldn't do for Hanagaki Takemichi.
Staring at one of the older headlines that made her blood boil, Yuzuha sneered and shot the link to Hakkai with a final note, the headline reading:
“WE DON’T WANT YOU: THE STORY OF THE FOREIGN TEEN KILLER IN JAPAN.”
_______________
The sky, once a bright blue, was slowly fading into a warm orange as the day began to say its goodbyes, making way for the night and the glow of the moon.
Chifuyu’s heart felt heavy as he waved off his friends at the intersection near his apartment, the boy couldn’t shake the disappointment of not being able to see his partner for today. Nearing his walk to the building, he noticed Baji, slumped over with a can of soda in his hand at the bottom of the stairs, with a face screaming, ‘Don't fuck with me, because I've just had the shittiest day of my life.’
Slowly, Chifuyu walked over to him, but before he could say anything, he swiftly dodge the can Baji chucked in his direction.
“Damn it! Today’s been fucking ass!” Baji yelled, dropping back down onto the steps and grabbing at his already messy hair like he wanted to tear it out.
Chifuyu bent down, picked up the discarded can, and tossed it into the nearest trash bin before wiping his hands on his pants. He slowly sat down beside Baji, who was clearly in a sour mood.
“Geez, what got you all pent up today Baji-san? Did your mom decline another scarf making for Takemitchy?” Chifuyu asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“That's not it,” Baji grumbled, tapping his foot in annoyance against the pavement. “I’ve been dying to get in touch with our damn commander all day! I even went all the way to his house, but he had the fuckin' audacity to refuse to see anyone! Seriously, who the hell does he think he is?!”
Chifuyu stared at Baji as the older boy started ripping out the weeds growing around the stairs, whilst muttering a few curse words underneath his breath, clearly pissed off.
Mikey was the first one that night, the one who held Takemichi as her shaking body went limp before they rushed her to the ER. Their commander has seen the full extent of the girl's injuries—the blood soaking his shoulder that night wasn’t Mikey’s; it was Takemichi’s, their so-called crybaby hero.
Maybe if Mikey had used his invincible stamina that day, the kind he usually uses for gang fights—or whatever it is, Takemichi wouldn't have ended up in such bad shape.
That's right.
Mikey should be the one on his knees in front of Takemichi’s parents, begging for forgiveness in the first place.
“—and fucking fuck's shit, I swear it's been an ass trying to get a hold of Draken too! Oi, Chifuyu, you think they’re up to something?!” Baji continued, frustrated.
If Baji continued his rant, the younger boy swore he's going to start seeing foam emitting from his mouth.
Chifuyu mused at the thought, if words could kill, then he could only pray for his commander upon his gruesome death by the hands of Baji's neverending curses. Like seriously, he had to give kudos to his captain for knowing new vocabularies of curses every now and then.
But thinking deeper, it could also have been thanks to Kazutora's credit.
He sighed, finding it quite hard to find the right words to defuse a talking bom named Keisuke Baji, from making the stairs squeaky clean out of any overgrown wild weeds.
Although, it is kind of strange for Draken to ignore Baji's call, because everyone knew that the second biggest troublemaker of Toman right after their commander was, in fact, the first division's captain.
His captain once told him with vigor how he'd burn a car down when he was still a young kid, and the concrete reason? He was simply hungry, and too afraid to nag his mom that day.
So it wouldn't be like their vice president to not answer him.
Huh, he hadn't really got a grip of the other's after Tenjiku anyway.
Elbows on his knees, Chifuyu rubbed his face in frustation, not because of his captain, oh no no. The boy was more confused than agitated, too tangled in his own thoughts.
Whoah, wait—hold on.
Now that Baji mentioned it, Chifuyu realized he hadn’t got a single follow-up from their vice-president either. The last time he’d seen the dragon tattooed guy was at the end of their battle with Tenjiku.
That night, Draken had split off to chase down Kisaki, while Mikey had stayed behind at the pier, responsible towards guarding Naoto with all of his might for bringing the younger boy there.
“Baji-san, w-when was the last time you got contacted by Draken?” Chifuyu asked, he could feel the pounding of his heart start becoming faster, his voice low with slight tremble of uncertainty.
Baji, caught off guard, responded, “I…haven't really thought about it, ‘cause he always respawned beside Mikey, like some damned character from a video game, yeah?”
Chifuyu sighed again, feeling a heavy weight settling in his chest. How could he have missed something like this?
Was this how Takemichi felt every time she came back from the future?
Desperately searching for clues, terrified of missing something that could put a trigger to the butterfly effect?
Takemichi…you’ve come this far carrying all the burden alone. Please, think about yourself next time.
“If Draken was around, then he and Mikey would be the first ones to be at Takemichi’s side, and they for sure wouldn’t leave until they’d begged Hanagaki-san for forgiveness.....” Chifuyu said quietly, resting his elbows on his knees, biting at the nail of his thumb in worry.
“But the fact is, Mikey still hasn’t shown up at the hospital yet.” The boy paled, hands quivering. He turned back to Baji, who was now silent, a serious, worried look on his face.
“Baji-san, what the hell happened to Draken?!”
_______________
Soon after the younger boy made his statement, Baji wasted no time and rushed back to his room with Chifuyu hot on his tail. They didn't realize that something was horribly wrong or that one of their member had suddenly gone missing in action, too wrapped up in their victory and pride.
Once they reached Baji's room, he quickly urged Kazutora to contact all the captains and vice-captains of Toman, telling them to gather at Mikey’s house after dinner under his order. He also told he confused boy to inform Emma so she could ask her grandfather for permission to meet up at the Sano's household, even though that wasn’t really necessary or likely to stop a group of overheated teenage boys thirsty for answers.
Chifuyu excused himself to go get ready and headed back to his place, leaving Kazutora feeling completely more lost. After sending out the messages, Kazutora set Baji’s phone back on the desk and tilt his head slightly, his confusion written all over his face.
Baji, whilst changing his clothes, did his best to explain the situation, making sure Kazutora knew just how dire things were.
"—so yeah, it's been three days but, fuck, we hadn't got any information regarding Draken. Well, we know that Mikey's bed-rotting in his room, but none about Draken."
"But...Michi’s a...girl?" Kazutora breathed silently, looking at the foul hands that have injured the girl midst rage. She wasn't even supposed to be there, she just—spawned in front of him suddenly.
Kazutora was still wrapping his head around the fact that Takemichi was a girl, but the memory of her jumping in front of Baji to shield him from Kazutora’s own blade had stirred something in him, something he couldn’t quite name.
But in the end, he stabbed her.
He remembered how awkward the boy—no, girl, was when he rest his arm around her shoulder. How she was quietly whimpering and trying to let go of his grip, yet was to afraid to muster a word on their way to Valhalla's base.
Baji scoffed a bit at his friends expression. "Yeah, real fucking plot twist, huh?"
And now, there was another problem—Draken had been MIA for a few days.
Kazutora tried to comfort Baji, suggesting that maybe Draken was just laying low after the exhausting battle with Tenjiku. But quickly Baji shot it down.
“No matter how beat up Draken was, he would never ditch his friends.”
Draken could’ve been shot, stabbed, or even hit by a vehicle, but he will still visit his friends in the hospital to ensure their recovery. Baji has seen it firsthand.
“The reason why I’m saying this,” Baji continued, pulling his hair back into a ponytail, “is because after that dickhead—Kiyomasa nearly stabbed him to death, Draken still stuck himself by Takemichi’s side while they stitched her wound up.” He glanced over at Kazutora, who was now sitting on the bed, eyes widened and face pale as if he had just seen a ghost.
“He only lost consciousness after the medical's finished tending Takemitchi's hand,” Baji grimaces at the memory.
That girl, who only brings surprises and neverending high expectations, was no better than Draken. Always the first one to look after their friends and comrades. Baji used to thought that it was such a waste of time, but maybe, those two knuckleheads act the way they did as a form of loyalty to Toman.
“Now, can you even imagine what he’d do if he knew Takemichi—a girl—was lying critically unconscious in a hospital bed?”
Kazutora’s head quickly whipped toward the window where Peke J. was curled up, fast asleep. He bit his lip, feeling cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
"Tora, you need to understand. But Draken owed his life to Takemitchy."
Kazutora realized how his hands shook slightly when he gripped Baji’s blanket, he felt as if the whole world would be watching him as he walked in shame towards the house of horrors—caused entirely by him.
“And if I go to Sano’s house, d-do you think they’ll even let me in?” His voice was low, uncertain, trembling in fear and humiliation.
It's not like Kazutora wasn't worried about Draken, oh he would gladly round every corner of Tokyo and any other city if it meant he could help his childhood friends.
What made the tiger tattooed boy's heart raced with anxiety was the fact that they needed to meet up at the Sano’s household. Mikey's home. Shiniciro's place.
With his criminal background of becoming an official older brother's killer, Kazutora froze as he felt the air thicken with dread when he imagined stepping foot into the family's house of the man he’d murdered.
Each time the memory of that night surfaced, it was like a vice tightening around his chest, the taunting whispers of shadows reminding him of the blood on his hands, the bitter truth of his failure as a friend and son echoing in his mind.
Baji, adjusting his wrinkled shirt, paused for a moment, taking in his friend’s distressed expression.
He knew Kazutora felt guilty about the past. But running away from his trauma would only make it worse. Baji wanted Kazutora to fight and conquer it, even if showing up at Mikey's place would stir up some painful memories.
He knew Kazutora is stronger than that, and he'll do whatever it takes to heal with him.
Baji let out a sigh and sat down next to Kazutora, who was pale as a sheet. He looked at him for a moment longer before pulling his friend into a tight hug, resting Kazutora’s head on his shoulder.
“I know, but Mikey’s already forgiven you. And if he tries to turn you away," tightening his grip, voice dropping to a growl. "Like hell I would even let that shit happen.” He chuckled softly, feeling the dampness spreading on his shirt.
"I'm not gonna abandon you anymore."
“You’re strong, Tora. Don’t forget that.” Baji said, running his hand gently through Kazutora’s hair, like a mother soothing a crying child.
Kazutora flinched, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape as tears streamed down his flushed cheeks. But even in that moment, he felt grateful to have these friends by his side.
_______________
Inui and Mitsuya were given the task of checking in on the boy with the dragon tattoo at his place before quickly pulling a rash decision regarding his disappearance. Mitsuya had his hopes that maybe Draken was just busy with his massaging 'business', or had received some heavy scolding from his... Sisters? Coworkers? Family? For the heavy beat up he took after Tenjiku.
Both boys parked their bike not far away from the red light district of Shibuya, unbeknownst to the ex-black dragon member that someone might have lived here.
The sight of a brothel caught the scarred boy quite off guard, but he's not one to judge someone from where they come from, they're delinquents after all. This isn’t the worse he's been, if compared to his duty in the Black Dragon's.
They walk into a dim hallways that smelled like cigarettes and nasty air, before entering the building, which Inui was relieved to have a better scent. There was an endless hallways, but Mitsuya was quick to guide him to the elevator and pressed a button.
Once inside, Inui couldn’t help but to smirked, "Someone seem to be fond of this place," putting his hands in his pockets. "Don't tell me you're a regular here?"
Mitsuya looked back at the other boy and let out an amused scoff, "Well, you could say I'm quite the regular. Been visiting this place ever since I'm an immature kiddo." He tried to hold back his chuckle at the sight of Inui, who stood there stoned, with his mouth agape.
Unfortunately, that couldn't last long as they reached their destination. They walked a few more steps until they see a colorful decorated door with flashy signs of prostitutes.
Mistuya was about to open the door when his eyes lay on the sight of a long apology letter, stating:
"We are so sorry for the inconvenience, but we are going to be on a short hiatus until further notice! Rest assured, the girls will be more than happy to get back with their most loyal customers! So please be patient and wait for us~!
Hugs and kisses from your most dearest girls~!"
"Huh, does this usually happen...?" Asked Inui.
"No...they—I don't think I've ever seen a day off, except Christmas night that one year." Mitsuya mused.
He rubbed his chin in confusion and agitation, wondering whether their friend's disappearance could be the cause of this. Nevertheless, the boy was supried to find that the door has been unlocked. He took a deep breath before turning the doorknob to get inside with Inui silently behind.
The ex Black Dragon took sight of the overly feminine decorations and mixed sweet perfumes of candies, flowers, and sweets. He wanted to sneeze at the overwhelming scent, but he didn't want to offend anyone who works or lived here.
Walking further inside, Mitsuya noticed that the man behind the desk was nowhere to be seen. If it were another circumstances, the boy would have laughed with his friend, because that stoned man seemed like he was glued directly to his chair.
"Uhh? Akashi-kun? What're y' doin' here?" Asked a girl from the hallway, her slim fingers holding on a half lighted cigarette. She was wearing her usual lingerie that covers almost nothing of her body, not protecting herself from the cold.
The lilac haired boy smiled before bowing his head, "I'm very sorry to disturb your rest, but we need to have a quick chat with Draken if that's possible? After that we'll go on our own way."
By the sounds of people chatting, another girl with twintails pops her head from one of the room, gasping at the sight of Mitsuya before she rushed towards the boy and hugged him.
"Akashi-kun!!" She whined.
"Tch," the cigarette girl gritted her teeth and threw her cancer stick towards the boys, anger written all over her face. "Y' think we know any shits?! Why do y' think we closed down the god-damned business for?!" Yelled the girl, tears slowly forming in her eyes.
Mitsuya widened his eyes, he could feel the dread crawling on his stomach, and he doesn't like the taste of it in any bit.
The girl hugging him slowly broke down to sobs, gripping on his shirt as she weeps and tried her best to speak. "K-kenny hasn't been h-home for three days, Akashi-kun! Three days!!"
Inui narrow his eyes at the sight of chaos in front of him, taking a step back silently until his back pressed against the door. He was not afraid of the girls, he just doesn't want them to ruin his shirt before heading to the meeting with the other Toman members.
Mitsuya tried to soothe the hysterical girl from pulling on his shirt harder and eyes Inui, mouthing help.
Inui made a face before straightening his shoulder and clears his throat, "That's the reason why we're here mam, if it doesn't bother, could we ask whether or not you've contacted Draken or the authorities?"
"We c-couldn't get a grip of Draken’s cellphone—" twintails stated, looking over Inui.
"And we've contacted the damned law enforcements too," cigarette girl looked away to try and hide the sadness in her face, rubbing her elbow for self comfort. "But you know how shits go...we're prostitutes, and his foster father owns said prostitutes. They thought that Draken has been sold and traficked by his own father. T-that's why we dropped the case and just—hoped for the best on our own."
Inui saw the tremble in her legs and quickly catches the girl before slowly sitting her down on the nearest sofa, putting his hand on her cold shoulders as she weeps on the palm of her hands.
Inui and Mitsuya looked at each other's pale face, furrowing their brows in agreement that Toman's really in deep shit now. First, Takemichi was attacked by Kisaki and is still in critical condition. Supposedly, they had no evidence, and the only witness should be Takemichi herself.
And now, their vice-president has vanished without a trace since the fight with Tenjiku.
Both boys waited until the girls sobs had went down, promising them that they'll do their best to look after their missing friend too before leaving the building back to their parked vehicles.
.
.
.
"Mimiko-chan, they're good boys nee?" Twintails said, not long after biding the delinquents goodbye.
"I guess so," she sniffed. "But did they fucking called us mam??"
_______________
Inui noticed Mitsuya looking like he was about to completely lose it, shoulders tensed, and eyes blurry as if he's in a deep thought; so he patted the second division captain on the shoulder with affirming eyes.
“Hey, you alright?” Inui asked, trying to keep the worry in his voice away.
“Yeah—no, I mean—this isn’t exactly what I expected. Draken’s not the kind of guy who would just disappear like this.” Mitsuya shook his head, trying to clear the dark thoughts swirling in his mind about his childhood friend, not noticing the sweat forming around his cold trembling hands.
“I know, that’s why we’re having this emergency meeting." Said the boy as he revved up his engine. He could still see the nervousness in Mitsuya's grip, so he sighed and tried another way to make light out of the situation.
"Hey, I'm just sayin'—there's no telling until we find a dead body, right?” Inui forced a small awkward smile, hoping to reassure Mitsuya with a double thumbs up.
Mitsuya swallowed hard. He knew Inui meant well, but hearing those words and remembering how Inui had once worked under Taiju only made it harder to control the negative thoughts and fears creeping in.
It's kind of...ironic how thing's turned out in the end. Just last year, they were fighting against each other—and this dude had hit his head with a metal pipe. In a chruch.
“Yeah.....let’s hope for the best tonight,” Mitsuya forced out a chuckle before revving up his bike, heading towards Mikey's place with Inui close behind.
Draken, are you feeling cold?
Or have you finally had enough of riding through these winter nights?
_______________
He couldn’t quite remember how he ended up staring at the body of Toman's vice president, sprawled out in front of him.
The last thing he recalled was a blinding flash of white along the deafening echo of gunshots bouncing off the empty streets.
Fuck, he was mad.
Mad at what Kisaki had done to Hanagaki Takemichi.
And mad at himself for letting Izana bring a coward like him into their fight with Toman, especially with an additional gun in his pocket.
No matter how loyal he was to Izana, he had to give Takemichi some credit. They had been friends long before Izana brought Kakucho into Tenjiku and point him as one of his servants.
He remembered how she looked at him with those fiery eyes when they finally met again after he’d disappeared for so long.
A part of him felt guilty for leaving Takemichi behind, but he had promised to come back and was determined to bring her into Tenjiku one day.
That’s why, when he saw her standing before him with her awfully dyed blonde hair glowing under the sunlight, ready to fight, he was caught off guard—and a bit disappointed.
He always knew Toman had the upper hand when it came to speed.
It was Toman who recruited Takemichi, and it was also Toman who had saved her from the cruel fate that awaited her.
He felt indebted to his enemies for that.
He knew ditching Izana in the middle of their battle with Toman would seriously piss him off, but watching Draken chase after Kisaki and Hanma alone was like watching someone run headfirst into a death wish.
So, he muttered a silent apology to Izana in his mind before breaking away from Mikey’s speech to chase after Kisaki and Hanma.
His second mistake that night was not hitting Kisaki and Hanma with everything he had, opting instead to hide again. But when his gaze lands on Kisaki’s face, it was like the boy was torn apart by a thousand different emotions.
Kakucho didn’t want to believe it, but Kisaki actually looked like he regretted what he’d done to Takemichi.
As soon as he heard the first shot, he darted out from where he was hiding and threw a punch with every bit of strength he had, right at Kisaki.
Heh, the look on Kisaki’s face would be etched into his memory forever.
He heard Hanma curse at him, but when he turned his head towards Draken, his heart sank.
The vice president of Toman was lying there, with a pool of blood spreading underneath him. In the dim light, with Draken wearing his black uniform, it was kind of hard to see exactly where he’d been shot.
Kakucho whipped back around, eyes locking onto Hanma, his fists clenched and ready to strike again.
“You're dead, damn bastards!!”
The night air was thick with tension as Hanma and Kakucho squared off in the dimly lit road. The distant hum of the city was drowned out by the sound of their heavy breathing, each step echoing off the cracked pavement beneath their feet.
Kakucho's fists were clenched, his knuckles already bruised from the blow he’d landed towards Kisaki, but Hanma grinned like a madman, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Kakucho lunged forward, his fist aimed squarely at Hanma’s jaw. Hanma dodged, barely missing the strike, and countered with a quick jab to Kakucho’s ribs. The hit connected, sending a sharp pain through Kakucho’s side, but he shook it off, refusing to give in.
This isn't even close to what his childhood friend have endured, he will manage through this night, and hoped that Toman would at least let him visit her—even if only once.
Kakucho really didn’t want the last thing she remembers of the boy was of how they fought, each and very own protecting their gang's name.
They traded blows, each strike growing more desperate, more vicious. Kakucho’s mind was focused, his movements precise, but Hanma was chaotic—his every move unpredictable. With a fierce uppercut, Kakucho finally managed to knock Hanma back a few steps.
Hanma stumbled, his grin faltering for just a second, but that was all Kakucho needed. He charged forward, aiming to finish the fight with one decisive blow.
But Hanma was quicker than he looked. As Kakucho closed in, Hanma’s hand shot to his side, fingers gripping the cold metal of a gun tucked on his waistband.
In a split second, he pulled it out and fired blindly, the shot ringing out throughthe empty streets.
Kakucho froze, his body seizing up as the searing pain ripped through him. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down at the crimson stain spreading across his uniform.
His body couldn’t get a hold of his legs anymore, and he collapsed to the ground, the world tilting around him as the color drained from his skin.
Hanma stood over him with the gun still smoking in his hand, the boy's grin twisted into something dark and triumphant as he watched Kakucho’s eyes dim by each passing second.
“Should’ve known damn better,” Hanma spat, voice dripping with mockery as he returned to his weakened master, leaving Kakucho and Draken to bleed out in the cold, unforgiving darkness.
.
.
.
Yeah..…that was the last thing that happened to him, huh?
He guessed seeing Takemichi one last time was a far-fetched imagination he couldn't seem to fulfill anytime sooner. All he could see now was darkness, though the cold air felt really comfortable against his skin.
‘I guess dying wasn't as scary as I pictured it'll be.’ The boy mused.
Even so in death, his throat still seem to scream at him for the urge to drink.
Kakucho suddenly felt his eyelids flutter open instinctively—although weakly, his body heavy and numb, as if he had been unconscious for days.
He decided to lay still, his mind sluggishly piecing together fragments of the past and present occurrences.
For a moment, Kakucho wondered if he was truly deceased, drifting in some limbo between life and whatever lay beyond.
It was a peaceful acceptance, a strange calm that wrapped around him as he slowly blinked his eyes open, averting his gaze at the ceiling, guessing himself this was the end.
But then, a faint creak echoed from his far right. The sound of a door opening, followed by a flood of light that stretched across the floor, yanks him back to reality.
His heart leaped into his throat, panic surging through him.
Without thinking, Kakucho quickly shut his eyes back tightly, his breath catching in his chest as he tried to feign unconsciousness. Whoever had entered—he couldn’t risk being caught, not when he was so vulnerable.
Footsteps approached, soft but deliberate, stopping just a few feet away. Kakucho’s pulse raced, each beat drumming in his ears as he lay motionless, every muscle tense with anxiety.
The intruder paused beside the boy, as if examining him, then moved towards the window. The rustle of curtains being drawn filled the room, and suddenly, a burst of sunlight poured in, blinding even through his closed eyelids.
The warmth of the sun and the brightness behind his eyes were too much. Despite himself, Kakucho winced, his body flinching involuntarily at the stark contrast to the darkness he had known moments before.
He could see the vague outline of the clouds and the soft blue sky through his lashes, making it harder to pretend he was still unconscious.
He kept still, hoping that whoever had entered wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his breath, praying they wouldn’t do anything more than just open the curtains.
Right, he couldn’t afford to panic.
He still had a promise to keep—to see Takemichi and return to Izana. He had no idea how long he’d been out, but one thing was certain: Izana wouldn’t take his sudden disappearance lightly.
He would chew and kick his ass, that's most certain.
Kakucho began to slowly crack his eyes open, careful not to give himself away. A sigh of relief escaped him internally when he saw that the uninvited guest had his back turned facing the window, totally absorbed in typing something on…huh? Some kind of glowing glass screen that makes noises similar to a keyboard.
He needed to come up with a plan to get out of here, and fast.
Kakucho’s eyes darted around the room, scanning for anything he could use to defend himself whilst he tried to make as little noise as possible.
His hands trembled slightly, but he forced them to steady as he slowly reached for a pencil lying on the nightstand next to his head. Loosening his shirt around his fist, he carefully slid the pencil into his sleeve, hiding it.
Suddenly, the stranger moved. Kakucho’s heart jumped as he swiftly shut his eyes again, hoping he looked convincingly unconscious enough. He could hear footsteps approaching his bed.
The man smelled surprisingly good, like almonds.
The boy wondered how, but the smell just felt......familiar. Have they met before?
Kakucho listens intently, trying to control his heart from racing out of control. He felt a slight tug on his IV, the sensation confirming that the stranger was probably checking him out, maybe even assessing how deep his unconsciousness ran.
The thought alone made his skin prickle, but he stayed perfectly still, fighting the urge to react.
Kakucho's mind spun with doubt—he was still fairly weak, barely able to keep himself steady. Gathering what little strength he had, he hesitated for just a bit to wait for the right moment, before he sprang into action—making his body protest at the sudden movement.
He wrapped his arm tightly around the man's neck, lowering his body down into Kakucho's level, whilst he pointed the sharp end of the pencil right at the man's eye.
"Where the fuck am I?" Kakucho's voice laced with venom as he struggled to maintain his strength. "What the hell happened to me? And where the fuck is my friend?”
The man tensed for a second in his grip. Yet, before he could muster anything, Kakucho’s heart skipped another beat as he heard rapid footsteps, heavier than the first.
His body stiffened, eyes widening to catch a glimpse of a large figure barging into the room.
The door was pushed by so much force, he could see some nails flying off. If the situation were any different, he would most likely laugh at how comical this is.
But Kakucho's body froze in place when the massive man slowly approached him—agitation written all over his face, yet he heard the man in his grasp speak, his voice calm yet commanding.
.
.
.
"Owen, don’t," he said in a foreign language, keeping his tone steady. "I'm fine.”