Chapter Text
Ash hated the too bright neon lights of the diner.
They reminded him too much of the brothel.
He made sure to avoid neon lights and his gang knew his aversion to these things. They might not know exactly why, but it's good that they do. Seeing it made him feel sick.
It's almost funny to find him here of all places. A lifetime ago, he wouldn't be here in a rundown diner early morning, with a rucksack of all his things. A couple of cash, his passport and some clothes to change. A lifetime ago, he wouldn't be in Washington instead he'd be in New York with Shorter and Skip. He'd be back in his rundown apartment which called home. But that was a lifetime ago, a lifetime too short.
He tried not to think of it now. He kept his focus instead on the handful of people inside to keep himself distracted. Most of them were too plain, not entertaining enough.
There's a woman just off her night shift, evident in the sluggish manner that she moved, the worn look on her face while she nursed her coffee. Ash had seen enough of that look to know it from a mile away and he's had his fair share of sleepless nights.
By the table at the back there was a couple lost in their own world. Their soft chattering blended with the background's noise, indistinct to Ash. This was not of his interest either.
And then there's the newcomer. This one caught Ash's interest. It was in the way he moved that told Ash he was trying to take up as little space as possible. Timid, the manner that his posture curled into himself was very telling. Although quite unremarkable, his beauty seemed to call to Ash.
Hair dark like his eyes, skin pale and smooth, but not as pale as his own. He was of Asian descent, he kinda looked like Shorter, before he got a tan got a purple Mohawk. Japanese was Ash's bet. His instincts were rarely wrong and he's spent too much time with the Chinese to know that this boy was not. The neon lights lit his face in a pretty manner, the blues, purples and reds casted him in a soft glow. He sat by the window and clearly didn't belong around here, in the way he looked and in the way he seemed too pure, for the lack of a better word. He looked like one of those university boys that would let you borrow notes when you missed a class, the one who would sit by the window of a café, drinking green tea while studying for an exam. He looked like the type who would invite you to study dates, and help you with your class, and he’d order you coffee and perhaps a pastry because he’s just kind like that. In short he looked ordinary, the type of boy who’s never seen violence and had never seen what Ash had seen.
"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth." Ash was quite surprised to hear the words and he wondered where they came from, but he was more surprised still when he realized it had come from him. See, the man was scowling at a book, Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, and it left something to be desired in Ash.
The man looked up from his book and smiled at him. Ash, in the short moment of eye contact, was able to discern that one, this was Ash's first casual conversation in weeks, and two, the man had such a warm smile.
"You've read it then?" The smile turned into a grin, so wide it was almost too brilliant for Ash. "Since you seem to have the first lines memorized by heart." He's tone sounded so amazed, and perhaps it was too easy to please the boy, but nonetheless, something deep inside Ash felt absolutely delighted, something hidden way beneath his skin, way beneath his pulse.
"No one goes to middle school and not curse Salinger, or so that's what everyone says." Ash shrugged. It left him to wonder why the boy was reading Salinger at the break of dawn in a backwater alley in Washington where he clearly does not belong.
He liked Salinger though, his words and his disturbing stories. Ash thought there was some sort of beauty in the unknown and in things he didn't understand. It was an addiction of Ash's to break them down because he didn’t like not knowing and people tend to fear what they do not know.
"Oh. Right, you read Catcher in the Rye in school," The boy closed his book after leaving a marker on his page. He talked with an accent lilting his soft words, it was different to Shorter's sharp Chinese, or the brash American Ash was used to, even the occasional Russian he's heard was harsh. This had its own charm. It turned English into something soft and appealing, something neither Chinese nor any accent could do. "What do you think of it then?"
"I think," Ash trailed away. He nodded at the boy's direction. He was seated just across Ash, not too far to shout, but not near enough to whisper. Ash was seated by the counter. "That I should know first what a young kid such as yourself, is doing at five in the morning here in a diner, reading Salinger of all things."
Because the boy looked fairly young, perhaps no older than sixteen, and it was dangerous to be outside in this hour. The streets in the US are dangerous at any hour, but even more so for such an innocent looking boy. Ash would know of course.
But at this, the boy stood up and sat directly across Ash, closing in the gap between them. Something like soft fire in his dark eyes. He sat on the stool next to Ash, faced him with a look of petulance. "Excuse me, I'm twenty one, thank you very much." He said with disdain, almost as if this happened often. Maybe it did, Ash could imagine.
Wasn't that a surprise though?
"Oh, sorry then big brother, you look nothing like a twenty year old." How casually Ash was conversing with this man. It was a little amusing, in a sad, cruel way, considering what transpired over the couple of weeks. But he hadn't felt this at ease with anyone else, or at any other time. Perhaps this man too, was a mystery on his own.
"May I ask what big brother's name is?" Ash batted his lashes. Playful, a smirk on his lips.
"Okumura Eiji," the man smiled, he's always smiling too brightly. They managed to crinkle his eye. "But maybe it's Eiji Okumura here in the west."
Eiji Okumura.
Ash repeated it in his head, tested it over and over until he decided he liked how it sounded in his mind, liked the nuances of each syllable, the contrast of every vowel.
"And you? Shouldn't you tell me your name too?" He cut through Ash's train of thought with his question.
"People call me Ash Lynx." He replied.
"Ash Lynx." Eiji echoed. And Ash realized he quite liked how he said his name too, liked how it sounded with his Japanese accent. His name was soften into something new, reborn. "Then may I know how old you are Ash?"
"Nineteen. You're basically a grandpa to me." Ash retorted. He should be suspicious though, he hardly knew this man. He could be one of Golzine's men, or someone equally dangerous. But Ash trusted his instincts. He survived all this time because of it. And when he peered into those deer like eyes, when he took in the unassuming posture of the man, he didn't see anything threatening in him at all.
Instead he felt warmth, pleasant, like the burn of liquor as it slides down Ash's throat, spreading in his chest, and with it came the glorious sensation of getting drunk. It felt ridiculously comfortable. Alcohol softened everything for Ash, and though he hadn't drunk any, it felt like he just had a bar's worth in just being at close proximity to the man.
"Isn't that quite right?" Eiji snickered. The waitress set a plate of pancakes on their table and a steaming mug of coffee quietly. Ash almost didn't notice her. He totally forgot about eating. Eiji started with his meal. Ash sipped from his own mug of coffee in turn.
"So," Eiji started. "Early morning?"
"I'd say late night," Ash huffed. The normalcy of everything was almost off putting. "What are you even..."
Ash trailed away. Something felt wrong. Like cold water splashed at his face, sobering him too quickly it felt like falling. There were red flags everywhere. Ash fingered the cold metal of his revolver. His trusted Smith and Wesson 357 Magnum was tucked in his pocket.
"Ash?" Eiji looked confused. But Ash did not pay attention to him.
He’s observing the place, eyes darting all over the place. Looking for anything out of place. Nothing seemed to be off, the clock said five in the morning. There was nothing wrong with his drink either. The binders were closed. Ash's pulse quickened as he zeroed in to the signage on the door. The welcome sign was staring him right in the face. Dread managed to fill his gut.
The diner was closed this entire time.
“Ash? Wha-?”
"Get down!" Ash barely managed to yell as he drew his gun from his pocket, blood pumped faster through his veins. He relied on muscle memory and instincts alone. He forgot to check the waitress. He should've known when she was too silent with her movements.
She was fast. But Ash was faster and he pulled the trigger with more speed and accuracy. The bullet pierced the waitress' hand, making her scream and drop her own glock. Ash took this as a chance to shoot her in the head before grabbing his rucksack and shoving Eiji behind the counter. He dived behind just in time for a flurry of bullets rain on them.
He ducked for cover. Beside him, Eiji trembled. Talk about being caught up in a crossfire. Talk about being in the wrong place in the wrong time. Ash peered over the counter. Everyone was part of this elaborate trap. How on earth did this man end up here?
There were four more and no doubt there was more coming. Ash retaliated with a round of bullets. The opposing shooting stopped momentarily. They may be more, but Ash was a better shot than everyone in the room. Lightning filled Ash's flesh and thunder in his ears. This was normal as breathing. In the wave of chaos, Ash found his comfort. Everything was a blur of movement and adrenaline.
Hand. Shoulder. Throat. Head.
Everything was precise. In those few shots, he was able to buy some time. They needed to leave. Ash searched for any means of escape. There was a backdoor. Maybe there were other men waiting outside, but they would’ve stormed in at the sound of the gunshots if there were.
“Eiji,” Ash whispered. “Eiji.” He tried again.
The man looked up to Ash with his dark dark eyes. Ash could see fear in them and god they don’t belong in those eyes.
“Eiji we need to leave.” Ash couldn’t leave him behind. He wasn’t cruel like that. “Eiji listen to me.” He might’ve hissed. Eiji flinched at the tone, but Ash had to get them out of this mess.
“In my signal, run towards the backdoor okay? I’ll follow you.”
Eiji thankfully nodded without further question. Ash listened for any sign of movement.
"Go!" He bellowed, letting loose a round of bullets. He then made a mad dash for the exit and caught up with Eiji. There were more men chasing them now. Left right left. It seemed to go on and on, the red bricked wall was getting narrow. It didn't seem like they'll see the exit any time soon.
Ash was familiar with running. Familiar with the motion of running. His feet ached, his lungs burned. His chest felt like it was pierced by glass. Every breath was fire but he will not fall here, he refused to.
"It's a dead end." Eiji croaked. He wasn't as winded as Ash would've thought he would be.
There was nowhere to go. A tall wooden fence loomed over them almost by fifteen feet and there was no way of climbing it over. Ash tried to kick it down and when that didn't work, he shot through it. It was still futile.
Ash reloaded his revolver. He doubted six bullets were enough. More footsteps echoed from behind. It would be a lot easier if he was alone. Now, he couldn't risk having Eiji caught in between the fight. He had to think of a way out of this. He had to think fast.
The shrill sound of metal creaking caught his attention. Ash snapped his gaze to the source of the sound.
"What are you doing?!" Ash barked when he saw Eiji yanking a long rotten pipe from the wall.
"I"m going to jump over it," Was his simple reply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it was the easiest feat. "I'm a pole vaulter. I've jumped higher walls than this." He started digging a pit on the ground systematically, a show of his expertise on the action.
"If that rotten pipe breaks, you'll die!" Ash didn't need any other reckless decisions today. He didn't need more people dying on him, especially a stranger like this man. "There aren't any mats either! You're going to get hurt any way."
"I'd rather get hurt trying than to accept my fate as it is!" He snapped back.
They won't kill you if I surrender myself because I'm the one they want! Was what Ash wanted to say, but in truth he could never guarantee his safety. The world Ash lived in was not used to mercy and gentleness.
"When I'm on the other side, wait for me. I'm coming back." He said with a determined set of his jaw. Ash wanted to tell him to save himself when he does get away without dying. Calling the police won't do any good to Ash either.
But all of a sudden, the timid look from the man vanished and was replaced by a certain fierceness, a certain electricity that seemed to run through the course of his entire body. His eyes sparked with concentration and he looked stunning with this transformation.
He ran and in a blink of an eye he was flying. Gone was the shy boy he met at the diner. This was a Phoenix reborn, flying towards freedom. It was over in an instant, but to Ash, it lasted forever. Every second suspended on air were stretched into eternity.
He was beautiful.
He was a bird soaring on the grey light of dawn. Graceful.
Ash was too stunned that he realized too late that the man landed on the other side with a pained yelp. It snapped him out of his daze. There were no mats on the other side after all.
"I'll be back!" Came the sound of Eiji's voice. His footsteps were getting fainter as he ran farther away.
Ash sighed. That's one problem down. Hopefully someone would see him bleeding and take him to the hospital. Maybe he'd come in too late and won't get involved anymore. That's fine. That's better. He didn't need more getting hurt.
He focused instead on the approaching footsteps. He pointed his gun on the passage. He didn't know how many were chasing him, but if he had the element of surprise then it'll be his advantage. His ammo was limited though and there was no other way out.
He cocked his gun. The narrow passage would somehow limit their numbers too. Two people at a time could go through the walls. He could also say with confidence that he was the best shot in the lot. These were nothing but lackeys anyway.
The footsteps were growing louder.
A man emerged from the alley. Ash pulled the trigger without hesitation. A shot on the head. The man fell on his back. This continued for another round. Head, jugular, chest. He was slowly running out of bullets but they don't look like they're going to stop anytime soon. His own combat skills were great, but he's better with a gun. He was unstoppable with a gun, but perhaps he'd have to get blood on his knuckles this time around.
Ash kicked the next man before he could shoot. This took him by surprise. Ash used this to disarm him of his gun. "Who sent you?" He hissed in his ear as he wrapped his arm around his neck, choking him.
However, the cold press of the barrel of a pistol behind his head froze him. The faint sound of the safety clicking echoed like thunder to Ash's ears.
"Don't move." The man behind him barked. His voice sounded rough, like gravel rubbed together. "Let him go." He continued. Ash complied with reluctance. The man he was choking gasped for air. The man holding the gun kicked Ash on the stomach. He retched and coughed. The butt of a gun met his jaw.
"Where's your companion?" One of them asked harshly, Ash wasn't sure which of them did. It was probably the one with the hoarse voice.
"Flew," Ash grit his teeth, willing the dizziness to subside. "He flew away."
Apparently that was the wrong answer because that earned him another smack on the face. Ash laughed as he spat out blood. That last blow made him see stars. Nothing he wasn't used to, but that didn't make it hurt less.
"I'm here. You don't need him." His cheek stung. It felt like a different kind of burn. Another kick to the back. He gasped in pain.
"It's a shame we need to bring you alive," One of them started. They seriously all look the same. It was harder to tell them apart with the pain. "Killing you would be so great."
"Boss said we need to bring him alive, but he never said anything about having fun." The other grinned too sleazy for comfort. Ash tensed at that tone. He's also heard of it often, too often. He felt nauseous at the thought of what’s coming next.
They forced him on his knees. Ash struggled to get free. He hated this, he hated all of this. One of them grabbed his wrist and pinned him on the floor, the other ripped his shirt, gun still pointed at him.
The man leaned to whisper on his ear. Ash felt sick. He shut his eyes in disgust.
"Be a good boy now."
Ash screamed but they gagged his mouth with a torn piece of cloth from his own shirt. He felt so so filthy. He can’t stop shaking, his mind was chanting stop stop stop stop stop-
There was a large bang.
The sudden crashing sound of wood on metal was enough of a distraction Ash needed to kick the gun away and break out from their grip. He scrambled for the pistol and unloaded the remaining bullets in the clip on the two.
It was bright, too bright.
The headlights flashing at him were blinding. A car seemed to have crashed on the wooden fence without any reservation. Ash cocked the gun at the driver's seat for precaution despite it being empty.
"Ash!"
The familiar voice made him hesitate. The passenger seat opened and upon closer inspection he realized it was Eiji who was on the driver seat. The air bags were blown, the car dented badly, and he was slightly still in shock at everything that occurred.
"Ash come on!" Eiji insisted despite it. Ash slid into the passenger seat, yanking out the air bags. Eiji drove away before any more back up arrived. Ash had never been as relieved to hear the sound of an engine start as he was now. The relief that washed over him was enough to make his entire knees weak. Perhaps that was the rush of the adrenaline subsiding, and it felt sobering like the feeling of falling from a high, the general feeling of falling.
In the seat of that dented up car, Ash finally allowed himself to breathe.