Chapter Text
A burst of flame. The bullet struck metal, whistled through the air. Impact jerked at Kazuma’s shoulder as he deflected, pulsated through his arm, throbbed all the way into his palm, his fingertips. A hiss of breath through his teeth. He nearly lost his grip on his blade. Then lunged forward as his opponent prepared to fire again. Kazuma thrust with the sabre, needling at the gun, loosening it from the criminal’s fingers. It clattered to the rain-slaked stones below their feet.
As Kazuma went to stomp on the man’s instep and overpower him, his opponent’s knee collided with his ribs. Kazuma’s breath lurched from his lungs. He staggered backwards. Felt anger squirming in his jaw, his eyes. Then he swept forward again, dropping his arms and shoulders as he jabbed the blade at his opponent. Metal sliced skin thinly, sent a small arc of blood through the dark air.
Kazuma surged forward mercilessly. Dodged the punches and knees tossed his way. Elbowed his opponent in the side, rammed the hilt of his sabre into his face. A click of satisfaction as he felt the man’s tooth break apart beneath his strike. And then he dropped his elbow harshly against the man’s back, between his shoulder blades, and pushed all of his weight down. The man collapsed.
Kazuma stood over him, sabre pointed threateningly at the back of his neck. Hissed again as the painful throb rushed through his arm, cinched at his wrist, tugged at his ribs.
“That’s the last woman you will touch. I’ll see to that personally,” Kazuma growled. He spat on the man then kicked him hard and swift in the side before sheathing his sword. He bound the man’s wrists with thick cable, tugged aggressively, made sure the edges dug into his wrists. Then Kazuma hauled the criminal to his feet.
After delivering the man to the on-patrol bobbies at the nearest police box, Kazuma turned, drawing his cloak around himself more closely. He took a few steps. Stopped. Anger flicked through him, a burning spark. He gritted his teeth and glared into the space between two nearby buildings.
“No point hiding. I figured you followed me. Again,” Kazuma said.
Barok stepped out of the shadows, into the thin drizzle of the night. His face was severe and unreadable. He stared at Kazuma piercingly.
“I thought I told you that I don’t need your help,” Kazuma growled.
“So you were perfectly in control then?” Barok said.
“Naturally. I’ve been doing this for a long time now, van Zieks. You can back down already.” Kazuma turned and winced, his hand falling over his aching ribs. He drew in a breath, the anger intensifying, the spark catching onto wood. Chewing through him. “Damn bastard.”
“And that strike when you had already felled him was entirely necessary?” Barok said.
Of course that hadn’t escaped his notice. Kazuma slid his glare towards Barok again. “It was what he deserved.”
“He will get what he deserves in court.”
“That woman needed help now!”
“I am not chastising you for intervening.”
“You have no right to chastise me at all. I’m not your brother, van Zieks. I have no intention of brutally murdering anyone.”
For just a moment, a flicker of emotion was visible in Barok’s eyes. Kazuma felt a small hint of satisfaction that rubbed against the coils of his anger.
“It is my duty to ensure it stays that way,” Barok said, recovering himself.
“No. Your duty was to train me as a prosecutor. It ended there. So go home. I can handle this alone. I am in control.”
“You have not appeared as such as of late.”
“Well, I am. If you knew what I truly wanted to do to that man, you would know that. A degenerate like him deserved far worse than a scratch and some bruises.”
“…I am certain Stronghart would have agreed.”
It took all of Kazuma’s strength not to unleash his fury; its sudden strike straight at his nerves was nearly overpowering. He curled his hands into trembling fists, gritted his teeth so hard it hurt. He averted his face and glared at the tiny puddles shining on the street.
“Whatever. Their ship comes early. I’m going home,” Kazuma said. He took a few steps. Paused. Pivoted to shoot one final glare at Barok. “You will not tell them about this.”
Barok bowed wordlessly.
Kazuma clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turned away.
As he began the long walk home, the anger continued to chew at him, wrapping in snarls around his heart, increasing with each breath that burned from the pain resting in his ribs. He was so tired. Tired of the continued existence of these horrible criminals. Of the way crime had increased exponentially in the years since Stronghart had been stripped of his office and executed. Tired of the pain all around him and the way justice was so thoroughly abused. All he could do was fight in court and hope for the truth to win. All he could do was wander the streets at night and intervene directly as violence was carried out right there in the open. How much more seethed beyond his line of sight? How much was obscured by shadow?
Despite his words, despite his exhaustion, Kazuma could not stop himself from seeking the injustice that lurked in London as he walked home. With every step, he hunted.