Work Text:
It was stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid. Truly possibly the stupidest thing Nathaniel had ever done so far in his short eighteen years. Rising in the ranks as the highest level enforcer in the Moriyama family after killing his father was up there, sure. But coming to this club in South Carolina to look out for some shithead nobody he’d never met? Easily worse.
Riko wasn’t smart, Nathaniel was sure of that. He’d only known the boy for a year as a child but everything he’d seen and heard during and after that year confirmed it: Riko was an idiot.
His plans were fueled by hatred and emotion, the moves not thought far enough ahead. He was never content to let the dice fall where they may, including when they were in his favor. He always had to have a hand in the roll even if it was detrimental to the outcome. Something to do with his crippling self doubt from being unloved his entire life, Nathaniel assumed.
His own father tortured and hated him but at least he wanted him. For a legacy, maybe, but Nathaniel was still an object worth a price to Nathan. Riko meant nothing to Kengo. He’d never actually met the man in person. Always trying to prove himself to a god that would never give him salvation.
The drugs were planned for the striker named Seth Gordon. A few bribed pockets and casual threats had gotten him the information for this plan. Riko didn’t know how to gain the silence of allies. His ego was inflated so heavily that he couldn’t see the way their heads were already turning to spill his secrets.
It was idiotic that Riko wasn’t just sitting pretty, waiting for the Ravens versus Foxes games throughout the season to humiliate and destroy Kevin. The Foxes didn’t stand a chance. The fact that Riko was spending so much time and money to implode the Foxes’ team was pathetic. It also had the potential to become a big problem for the Moriyamas if he continued escalating. An orchestrated “accidental” overdose of an addict no one cared about was one thing but Nathaniel was bracing for a more outlandish show in the future.
So, here he was, surveying a crowded nightclub that reeked of alcohol, sweat, and desperation to find the loser of the hour. Neil wouldn’t even have put in the effort to tail him if the Foxes team had the numbers to spare him. As it was, their striker sub tried to commit suicide back in May and no sad schmuck had taken the offer afterwards so they were running low on players.
Seth Gordon was so incredibly low on the tier of people Nathaniel would even consider being someone he’d personally kill let alone personally save. Saving people wasn’t his job. Death, pain, and retribution were.
If someone like Seth shorted the family in a drug deal or owed money, Nathaniel would have just sent a low level lackey to do the job as a ‘test’. This was so below his position that it wasn’t even comical. All this for a misplaced sense of obligation to a boy who showed him kindness and made him feel like a real person so many years ago.
Nathaniel was never going to get out of this life or follow his childish dreams of playing Exy. If he was lucky, someone would manage to get the upper hand on him before he was thirty and kill him. Any attempts so far had just been annoyances. While he wanted someone to take him out, he wasn’t going to go down when it was too easy. He wanted to be impressed by his murder.
The lights pulsed in time with Nathaniel’s impending headache and the bass of the music fought for control over the steady thud of his heartbeat. He’d found marks in worse situations than a typical crowded bar but after an hour he’d still yet to find Gordon. He wasn’t one to give up easily but after another hour and still no sightings, he wondered if it would be easier to simply buy the Foxes a new striker to save himself the trouble. He played with the calculations in his head, changing out variables for what he could offer some sad idiot to switch teams.
As soon as he finally settled on a number he was willing to spend for a bribe, he caught sight of Seth Gordon’s head poking out above the crowd and heading towards the bathroom, which was a relief on Nathaniel’s bank account. Efficiently, he moved through the crowd with the ebb and flow of the bodies around him to carry him to the men’s bathroom.
Leaning in with his shoulder, Nathaniel made an attempt at pushing the door open only to be met with the full resistance of a lock. A glance down towards the handle had a hanging sign proclaiming boldly: out of order. It was hastily made and not something a club like this would’ve used. It was flimsy, hung on a string. Bad news for Gordon.
He threw his head back with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. This was turning into a much bigger task than he’d expected and his patience was wearing thin.
Asking an employee to unlock the door would draw too much attention to the situation and give a credible eye witness to his being at the club if anyone asked. He’d cased out the place earlier in the day and knew there was a small window near the top of the wall that led inside but he would have to run, climb, and wiggle through the opening. The lock could be picked but crouching beside a public bathroom door would also draw attention if anyone approached to use the facilities. The less eyes on him and Gordon the better.
Window it was, to his dismay.
An unlocked ‘employees only’ door took him out to the side of the building lined with lidded trash cans that had already been tested to hold his weight without tipping or cracking. Once outside, he flicked open his burner phone and dialed 9-1-1, putting on a trembling and fearful tone to his voice.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The voice on the other side asked.
“My - My friend - He’s - He took something. I don’t know what but he won’t wake up!”
“Okay, hun, just take a deep breath. What’s your location?”
Neil rattled off the name and location of the bar, mentioning the men’s bathroom as Seth’s location before folding back down the phone with a little more force than truly needed. This oaf had better pull his weight the rest of the season, for all the bullshit he was putting Nathaniel through with his stupidity.
Hopping onto the top of the trash can, Nathaniel peeked through the window to see Gordon laying flat on his back, breathing shallowly. Two other boys - neither could have been older than nineteen - were in the bathroom with him, one looking two seconds away from shitting his pants watching as Seth died and the other seemed smug. Whatever Riko offered them must have been big.
The window slid open easily and Nathaniel pulled himself through headfirst, using the height of the window and momentum to land on his feet in a crouch, eyes locked onto the two boys.
“What the fuck?” One of the boys screamed and the other slapped a hand over his mouth to quiet him.
“Hello, little birdies,” Nathaniel cooed with a smile, pulling a knife out of the sheath on his ankle as he rose to his feet, “It’s okay to scream. This place is loud enough no one will hear you but me. And trust me, I want to hear you.”
The smug boy’s eyes grew wide as he paled. Nathaniel could tell he was looking for some kind of escape route but there was none to be found - only the locked door at the other side of the room. Once he realized this predicament, he launched the other boy at Nathaniel and took off running to the door.
Nathaniel sidestepped the human shield and knocked him to the floor with an easy sweep of his arm. He made it to the other Raven just as the boy managed to wrench open the door just a crack. He grabbed the back of the boy’s head and slammed him face first into the door to shut it again. With a twist of his other wrist, the door was locked once again and the bleeding boy was pressed against the wood.
“You’re going to deliver a message for me to Riko,” he informed the boy pinned to the door.
“I don’t - Who’s Riko?” The boy stuttered and wheezed out.
With an exasperated sigh and roll of his eyes, Nathaniel smashed the boy’s face against the door again before spinning him around to stand face to face, “I did not tell you to speak. Understood?” The boy nodded his head carefully in agreement, so Nathaniel continued on, “Good. Now, do I look fucking stupid?”
The boy stared wide-eyed and gaping. When no answer was given, Nathaniel backhanded him across the face and tsk’d his tongue, “That one was a question.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The boy sobbed.
“Enough,” Nathaniel bit off and grabbed the boy’s face in his hand, fingers digging into his jaw, “My message for Riko - and I’ll keep it simple seeing as you can’t even follow an easy command - is to tell him to stop trying to place his own pieces into a game he doesn’t understand because he will lose.”
The boy whimpered and nodded, so Nathaniel released him and tipped his head towards the distinct sound of sirens approaching through the open window.
“Saved by the bell,” Nathaniel said with a grin, “Talk to no police or Tetsuji about what happened here. Take my message only to Riko and never cross my path again.” Nathaniel unlocked the bathroom door and took a few steps away once he was sure the message had gotten through.
Without a second thought, the boy was out of the door and running, leaving behind only a small puddle where he had been standing and his bloodstains on the door. The other Raven was still huddled in a corner, staring at Nathaniel with terror.
“Well, go on,” Nathaniel prompted, “Your friend has a message to deliver.”
The boy shot to his feet and scampered past Nathaniel out of the bathroom. His smile dropped and he crouched next to Seth’s unconscious body.
“You better be fucking worth it, Gordon.”
After quickly turning him on his side, Nathaniel stepped out of the bathroom and back through the crowd, breezing past the emergency services rushing inside the front door.
—--------------
Seth’s consciousness returned to him slowly and all at once. The smells of antiseptic and plastic flooded his nose, the feeling of the firm bed with stiff sheets under him, and the rhythmic beeping overlapped his mind. He blinked his eyes open slowly into the darkened room, unfocused and heavy. Hospital.
The first thing he noticed once his eyes adjusted and focused was a bouquet of flowers in a vase on the windowsill. Seth wasn’t sure anyone had ever gotten him flowers before, his mind threw at him. No one had ever cared. Why did someone care now? Why was he here?
The second thing he noticed was a figure sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair near the flowers, legs crossed with one ankle resting on the other knee and its face leaned back far enough into the shadows to not make out. He wasn’t sure if this was a real person or some kind of drug hallucination.
“Wha–?” Seth tried to ask but his throat was too painful and dry to make the words work.
“You’re a lucky man, Brian,” the figure said, voice much more youthful than what he imagined a hallucination like this would sound like.
The figure shifted and stood, walking to the side of the bed where Seth could get a better look at him. He was small, pale, and the ice of his eyes shone through even in the darkness. Seth wasn’t much of a religious guy but in that moment, he feared a demon may have been sent for him. No person with a human soul could have that look in their eye. Or, he was just keyed up on some kind of drugs and afraid. Both were equally likely, of course, he told himself.
“You got your one free pass. Do not ever let us meet like this again. Because next time, I won’t fix it. I will let you die in your own piss and vomit on the floor like a diseased animal. This is your only second chance, so use it wisely,” The figure told him and reached out a hand towards one of the machines Seth was plugged in to. A small click sounded in the quiet room and Seth felt the effect of the drugs washing over him, sending him back to sleep under the intense look of the stranger.