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Jouno may have fallen asleep. They weren’t quite sure. Sleep didn’t usually feel like this– it didn’t tend to feel like much of anything. This was still numb, but they were pretty sure that questioning whether they were asleep was reason enough to believe they weren’t.
Or maybe it was all some kind of lucid dream. That could explain the dullness in the world, the way their usually sharp senses picked up nothing beyond faint murmurs outside these walls. It seemed too artificial to be authentic.
With a worrisome ache in their limbs that they opted to ignore, they pulled themself upright, planting both feet firmly on the ground, testing their balance. Despite the cottonballs that seemed to be stuffed between their ears, their balance appeared to be mostly up to par. Slightly unstable, but more than satisfactory.
They stretched their aching joints, grumbling to themself as they tried to recall how they’d ended up here. Something about an airport and terrorist attacks– whenever a solid image tried to surface it was quickly scattered across the corners of their mind, unable to be pieced together.
Where were the others? Were they here? Jouno didn’t need them to be effective, but maybe they’d know more– annoyingly, their radio could only provide static when they tried to get a connection. Dead, or broken. Either way, no voice would carry through the device any time soon.
Left in the dark. Quite literally. There seemed to be only one source of light in the room, and it was the faint glow of what Jouno could only assume to be a window judging by the intensity of the light.
That at least was a way out, in case they couldn’t find the door. They approached the light, running their hand across the wall in the meantime to try and feel for any exit more graceful than the pane of glass. No such luck– how did they even get in here? This wasn’t adding up, but the same fog in their brain still prevented them from lingering on the events that had transpired before coming back to consciousness.
Something in their bones still ached despite no perceivable injuries. Their clothing was torn in some places but their skin remained entirely unblemished. By all accounts it was strange but they could only conclude they were fine.
They leaned against the windowsill, trying to gather whether anything was going on on the other side of the glass. Still, it was all muddled together, sounds that could be screams or talking or just the general noise of people on the street.
It didn’t stick. They perceived it, but they couldn’t hear it, really. They couldn’t get a grasp on any sensation beyond their hands feeling the edges of the window for any way to open it.
No luck, once again.
A shiver ran down their spine, as if anticipating the sudden piercing sound that came just a moment later.
“All troops, commence invasion.”
The words were clear, a stark contrast to the dulled perception from before. It felt… bright– a strange adjective to associate with a voice, but Jouno felt drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It seemed faintly familiar, something within them recognised it as an authority.
Commander?
Jouno wasn’t sure they pinpointed the source correctly, but what they did know was that the entire world seemed to thin out into a fine line of string, a thread to follow– a now clear but limited perception pulling them forward to follow the road paved for them. It was almost effortless. It required no thought to obey it.
The glass pane of the window shattered beneath their fist, and now there was a dog on the loose. Stalking, searching for something they couldn’t name.
They’d know it when they found it. That’s what the faint whispers seemed to promise them.
Their footsteps were even, rhythmic thuds against the floor as they steadily approached the core of the chaos that seemed to rage in the distance, the slight soreness caused by immobility starting to fade away as they got back into the swing of things.
Commence invasion…
Their hand wandered to the hilt of their sword, preparing for the violence that seemed to be expected of them. There was no doubt that they were running headlong into a slaughter, but they were familiar with such things. Perhaps even excited for it, though that glee seemed to transcend their bones in a way that made it clear the feeling did not originate from their own heart. A shallow projection of an overarching command.
In truth, they were apathetic at the prospect of bloodshed. These larger battles often didn’t leave the time to take in the cruelty and pain playing out around them, thus leaving Jouno uninterested in participating beyond their obligations.
Swords clashed in the distance with a noteworthy force. Jouno stalked ever closer to the source of it.
“Attention all units. Cease invasion immediately.”
They stopped dead in their tracks, the previous orders overwritten rather hastily by a new command, a distinctly different voice though no less clear.
That certainly wasn’t the commander.
They were disinterested in whatever this new voice cared to say, but the interruption had served to distract them enough to lose track of their intentions.
What were they doing again? Something about attacking? Their memory felt hazy, if not incomplete, chunks from it missing which only raised more questions.
Armed Detective Agency… Terrorism…
Right, they recalled something like that. They were probably hunting the Agency before ending up where they were now. Some dirty tricks, leaving people with a frayed memory behind to die, but not much more could be expected of such people. It was no wonder the whole special division had been up in arms to eradicate these pests.
Curious how they could remember that in such vivid detail. It was as though only the most recent scraps of recollection now failed to fall in place.
No matter. They’d handle the pest control, even if they weren’t feeling their best. It would be pitiful if they couldn’t squash a few of the more harmless ones, even with the state they were in.
The doctor… that detective… whichever one of them crosses me first.
Their steady footsteps came to a halt at breathing in the distance, somehow breaking through all the dampening, their senses immediately zeroing in on a presence not far from them–
Found you.
Convenient, how their instincts weren’t deteriorated the way their muscles were. They could still track the trail of any prey unfortunate enough to cross their path, ever closer. The efficiency was almost frightening.
With a soft scraping sound, they unsheathed their sword, the weight familiar in their hand. They tilted it to the side, checking the balance and their own dexterity, but found no issue with their handling. Some sluggishness, but no incompetence.
That made what was next a lot easier to do. However, it raised the question: what kind of fool would not think to disarm their prisoner? Especially one of the caliber worthy of being called a Hunting Dog– really it didn’t make sense.
Maybe their captor hadn’t expected them to wake up again. It didn’t even really feel like they had. With the world so dull around them, it felt like they could wake up on that floor again any second, having dreamed up their whole escape.
Regardless, they’d follow this dream’s gentle guidance. It was a lot easier than stopping to think– a headache already bloomed behind their eyes from just that moment of doubtful hesitation.
The edges of their shape thinned, skin paling into vapour, until it unraveled into thin threads of fog that slipped through the air with the faint memory of a human shape within it. For the first time since waking up, the pain in their joints had subsided completely. The air, previously cold against their skin, now almost felt like a warm welcoming embrace.
No time to linger on such feelings, though. Not as they approached the detective, the mastermind of the crimes that had plagued Yokohama for this long. Left by himself, unprotected and seemingly unaware of their approach.
Appearing before their victim, Jouno’s blade swung down, the guillotine for an unannounced execution.
Metal pierced flesh, but the sword did not halt. It kept cutting, though skin, muscle and bone, before finally getting lodged deep into that body.
No one screamed. Not as much as a panicked inhale. It brought Jouno some pause– they certainly hadn’t missed, the resistance against their blade had betrayed as much, but–
“Jouno.” They could hear their name being called, distantly, though the voice didn’t seem to be shouting. Still, they weren’t interested in whatever else this person had to say, his voice muddling together with the static noise ringing in their ears. He may have been talking more. They weren’t listening.
He was in their way. That was all they had to know. He was keeping them from fulfilling their mission. That was a crime punishable by an unkind death.
A slight tug revealed that their sword was practically useless, still lodged in deep, unable to be pulled out quick enough to make another move when their opponent intended to retaliate. So they abandoned it, reaching for the dagger on their hip instead to slash in front of them before their target had the chance to.
It didn’t connect. Instead, a sharp pain suddenly bloomed across the side of their face as something collided with it– a fist, and a forceful one at that. They went flying backwards, temporarily disoriented as their back hit the floor hard enough to ricochet off it, but they managed to get upright almost immediately, suddenly agitated.
Their disorientation did mean they’d lost track of their assailant, and before they could get back on their feet they were already knocked down again– the onslaught was relentless, and while it was painful, Jouno found it stung their pride more than they suffered from the physical harm of it. Still, their limbs felt heavy and their muscles seemed to be working on a delay, and so each time they tried to retort, they just weren’t fast enough.
They could hear themself screaming, angry, frustrated at this constant repetition of just barely not getting back up. They didn’t recall having opened their mouth in the first place.
“I can’t hear you!” Another strike, it almost seemed like a taunt, but… “Don’t kneel to the One Order, Jouno! You’re better than that!” …so stupidly insistent… “Where is your noble soul? Your courage?!”
I know that voice–
“Show it to me!” A– no, Tecchou’s fist connected with their face again, this time hitting its mark even stronger than before– and along with that flash of pain came a flash of clarity, their thinned perception erupting into full awareness as the world around them announced its existence to them once more.
“...ow.” What a rude awakening. But with full autonomy regained, their earlier frustration had free reign to manifest into retaliation. They stabilised their stance and threw a punch of their own, hitting Tecchou square in the jaw. “That really hurt, you nitwit!!”
With Tecchou stunned by the impact of their knuckles against his face, it provided an opening to kick him square in the chest, an invitation Jouno would never refuse.
“Tecchou, you damn boar–” In their frustration, the honorific was easily forgotten. Clutching the shirt of his uniform, they held their faces somewhat level. “I’ll chop you up and make you into a pork hot pot!”
“That’s it, Jouno! Good!” Oh, Jouno could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, and they wanted nothing more than to punch it off. “Let’s have fun talking it out!”
“Do you even know the meaning of talk?” They struck his face again, this time with less vitriol and more frustration fueling the attack. The gesture was returned mere seconds later as the two of them spiraled down into the childlike argument. The violence exchanged had lost its edge and was now more a question of neither of them wanting to let the other get the last hit in, rather than bringing serious harm.
“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” Punch, right in the nose. Jouno was vaguely convinced that one had hurt their hand more than it had Tecchou’s face, even if blood now steadily trickled down his chin. The return hit them right in the mouth, splitting their lip on their front teeth.
“You– I’ll kill you!” They lunged forward, both hands aiming for the neck. “Get that stupid smile off your face–” The two of them went tumbling to the ground, with a slight grunt from Tecchou as his back hit the floor. He didn’t even get a reply in before Jouno had their fingers wrapped around his neck, squeezing rather firmly.
A pair of hands clawed at Jouno’s wrists, but with the injury from where Jouno’s sword had cut straight through his arm, Tecchou had only one working hand to rely on to free himself from their grasp, and that proved to not have enough strength. The resistance gradually got weaker, but they could still sense a smile on Tecchou’s face.
“Don’t play dead.” They huffed. “Why are you still grinning?” No response, likely because Jouno still had his airway cut off. Despite that, they didn’t let up on the pressure, and soon enough Tecchou’s hand tapped softly on their wrist, admitting defeat.
They released him pretty much immediately, feeling they had proven their point with this victory. In a way it was like the battle they’d never gotten to start in the airport had been concluded with that gesture of surrender. And thus they had been proven correct.
“...I’m glad I found you.” Tecchou breathed out after a moment, still laying on the floor where they had left him. “That’s why I’m smiling.”
“...” Jouno knew pretending they didn’t hear it was futile– Tecchou was more than familiar with just how good their hearing was– but still, they elected to ignore it. “Where did you leave my sword?” Instead they changed the subject.
“Here.” Instead of pointing Jouno in the right direction, Tecchou went to retrieve it himself, handing over the weapon that was stained with his blood. They pulled a face, knowing they couldn’t sheath it before they got the chance to clean the blade.
Well, a quick observation of their surroundings proved that the sword wouldn’t have stayed in the scabbard for long. The ongoing situation desperately needed some tending to, with pests running wild and the panicked screaming of civilians somewhere in the distance.
“We should do something about… that.” Jouno didn’t know what exactly the creatures were that they heard scurrying around, but they doubted that those were friendly faces.
“You’re right. Let’s lend those fighting a helping hand. It’s unprofessional for us to just stand by.” Tecchou, too, drew his sword and started advancing without a second glance at Jouno behind him. They just sighed, muttering something about recklessness and stupidity, before also charging into the fight.
Side by side once again, the two of them advanced through the army fast, slipping seamlessly into the rhythm of the hunt they were familiar with.
They wouldn’t have it any other way.