Blood and Business

[Sengoku]

When Tsubasa plucked a fingernail from Hiroshi, he let out a scream that was cut halfway by Katsumoto's leather-gloved fist. Blood splattered against the other surviving hangure who was still shivering in place.

"Pipe down, son." Katsumoto wiped the blood off his knuckles. "Folks are asleep this time o' night." Another fingernail plucked. Another scream, this time stifled for fear of further physical retaliation.

"I... can't... tell you..." Hiroshi hissed through gritted teeth. "You have any idea... what they'll do to me?" He looked up at Tsubasa, streaks of sweat and tears having blended across his face. "None of the shit you do to me... will compare to them..."

The young tiger smiled. Then he chuckled as he dropped down to a knee next to Hiroshi. "Tsu-chan. I don't think Hiro-kun is takin' you seriously! Let's show'im the room, hmm? Getchu' yer toys an' all." His head turned to the Takeda bodyguards. "Gentlemen, get the car ready for our guest. Show off some Takeda hospitality." There was still the business of the last hangure, however. The petrified one that smelled of urine.

"We ain't gon' have this problem again, are we?" The man - the boy, more like - shook his head, though it looked more like he was shivering as if caught out in a blizzard. "Clean ya'self up and get outta' my sight. I'm lettin' you off once." Hiroshi, on the other hand, was dragged deeper into the tiger's den.

- 2:16 AM. An undisclosed location within the city of Kōfu. -

The walls were slate gray. A single light bulb clung to a wire for dear life, swaying side to side from the ceiling. In the center was Hiroshi, tied down to a wooden chair, his clothes stained with blood and sweat. To his right was a table with a tray lined with all manner of tools. Hooks. Picks. Scalpels. Mallets. Those were the recognizable ones. Tsubasa was in the spotlight this time. Katsumoto was content to hang back in the corner with a cigar in his mouth, the end lighting up each time he inhaled. The tiger had his fun - it was time for the cat to play with her food.

[mermalaide]

"Tsu-chan. I don't think Hiro-kun is takin' you seriously! Let's show'im the room, hmm? Getchu' yer toys an' all."

"That's a big mistake." She smiled as wide as a yokai, it was not a nice smile. She watched Katsu let a scared guy run for his life. "That was nice of ya. You sure you don't want me to hunt him? He could tell a friend." The words were a formality. She knew that this person was so scared, it might not be likely, though, they themselves might get sought out. That was something for much later.

2:16 AM

The sound of her heels made a resounding noise against the concrete of the space. She walked slowly, as if looking to pick something. "You said earlier that what they would do would be much worse than what I could do." She too something that looked like a scalpel off of a tray. She strutted over to him, leaning close to an eye. "How much worse?" She bet her head smiling. Under most circumstances anyone would be happy to have her attention. Not this guy though. She moved the scalpel all too close to his eye and when he flinched, she cut his face in stead. She wasn't ready to take it just yet. Let him crap himself first.

"Who are you so afraid of if not me? Hmmm~?"

Her voice was a mocking singsong. "What are you afraid of, because if I am being honest, you are probably not walking away buddy." Her eyes shown. She moved quickly and imbedded the scalpel in his hand.

[Sengoku]

"Kill me, then." Hiroshi spat in Tsubasa's face. "What are you waiting for, huh? Kitty don't got the guts to do the job right?" Even in pain, the hangure grins. Whoever this benefactor was, Hiroshi seemed to deem that dying was preferable to spilling information. Not even a hint or a location. But for a kunoichi, death is not the only option available for interrogation.

Katsumoto remained leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He grinned at Hiroshi. The Mochizuki clan is well-versed at making people talk. Tsubasa's game was only beginning. And she's only on her first toy.

"Tsu-chan. Manicure time's over. I think Hiro-kun can use a makeup."

[mermalaide]

His spit flew past her ear and she felt the temperature of it. Tsubasa felt Katsumoto's words rather than hear them. The sound of him saying her name was like letting a dog off a leash. Tsubasa flipped his chair backward, steadying it with her leg so it wouldn't fall, but the swift motion was like the movement of a dental chair. In one hand she held that scalpel, the other finely manicured hand held his jaw so he would not be able to move.

With the flick of the wrist, she popped out his eye. It flew in the air and she let his face go with the other hand so she could catch it. In it's place was the scalpel pressed to his throat, so he would have to stay put. To screw with him, Tsubasa jostled his chair with the leg she used to hold it, causing him to nick if he didn't remain still.

The laugh she gave was a little rusty. Just hearing it could give a man tetanus.

"I dunno Katsu-chaan~"
The chair wobbles. "My hand might slip, kinda took a little much off the top, an' he's already reaaal fuckin' ugly." It was like a cat toying with a meal the way she said that, and when Hiroshi went to say something else she stuffed his eyeball in his mouth and tipped his chair fully back again. She made him swallow it before setting the chair right. "I wonder if other parts... detach~?" The scalpel went into his leg, stuck in a bone.

"Not much for conversation, huh Hangure shit bag?" She grinned at him. It was not a nice smile. Far from it. The cute Gyaru's features were in shadow and she had the appearance of a hanya mask. "You're boring." She pulled the scalpel out and tipped his chair onto his back. Then, moving around the side of him put her heel to his throat. She made a motion for someone to turn up a radio near them. It was something old she remembered from somewhere she couldn't place. She wanted him to fear, like she knew those girl had, and she wanted him to spill his guts. Too much and he was dead, so it took finesse. 

And slowly I’ve come to realize

It’s all as it should be

That hiding space

A lonely place

How can the right thing be so wrong?

I’ve found mistakes

Where they don’t belong

For the love of life

We’ll defeat this

They may tear us down

But we’ll go down fighting

Won’t we?

[Sengoku]

Hiroshi was no disciplined yakuza, but he had spent his years growing up in the criminal underworld. It would not be wrong to call him a hardened criminal, a regular face in the seedy underbelly of Japanese society. But this was something beyond what he was prepared for. It had always been easy jobs. They never got caught, him and his crew. Just casual crime and quick profits. This was horrifyingly new.

He couldn't remember the last time he cried or squealed in pain. Perhaps when he was a boy? How old? Seven? Eight? None of that mattered as he felt his eye plucked from its socket, veins ripping, and blood gushing. To make matters worse, Tsubasa shoved the eye into his mouth. And then down his gullet. The pain. God, the pain. Is this what hell felt like? Locked in a gray room where no one can hear his screams? At the mercy of the Takeda and Mochizuki?

"KYOTO!" he croaked. "WE MOVE THEM TO KYOTO! I don't know what happens afterwards! I just transport them, alright?!" He vomited in front of Tsubasa's feet. A mixture of stomach acid, blood, and his half-digested eyeball splattered on the floor. "Fuck... please... I don't know anymore... I'm just a middleman..." His only response was silence at first. What was merely ten to fifteen seconds felt like an hour to Hiroshi.

"Excellent work, Tsu-chan!" beamed Katsumoto. "You Mochizuki girls are mighty convincin'! See Hiroshi? It ain't hard to be honest." His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he approached Hiroshi. "Tsu-chan, I'll take it from here. You clean up for the night an' I'll catch up with ya."

[mermalaide]

Tsubasa pouted. "It would have been much more fun to be charming, but he had to do it the hard way." She sighed. Thankfully it was in front of and not on. She stretched on her tippy toes and walked back over to Katsu. "You sure, Katsu-dono?" She fused about him a little, but he was a big boy, he didn't need it. She gave him a little bit of a bow with a hand over her heart. It was sincere. She looked back at Hiroshi and smiled, it was not a nice smile. "Better hope we get to them. Or get to the one in charge. Either way, I'd pray." She patted Katsu on the shoulder and went out into the little makeshift office.

In the office there were a few guys smoking at the little table. They were made like she was, but not ninja. One of them offered her a smoke but she just smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm good. Are there still any wipes in here?" She went to rummaging through a desk, and found some. Just a touch up. She wanted to be ready if they were going to ride to Kyoto or not. So they were kidnapping Yokai (mostly female ones) and dropping them in Kyoto. What the fuck was in Kyoto? Tsubasa rummaged through her mind as she was wiping her legs and such off. Kyoto was mostly the old entertainment district, it had also become a Yokai haven. Surprisingly, there was a good Black market there for smuggling.

Typically, the gangs had cracked down on human trafficking, it still happened, but only the worst Yakuza engaged in it. That and drugs were pretty frowned on. It was mostly gambling, loans with high interest and host clubs nowadays. Her body shivered like something had walked over her grave. That didn't happen often. There were a lot of missing person cases recently. Was it that? But, again, why? People left all the time, disappeared and just straight up moved. Her phone buzzed, and she took it out to look.

Sensei was asking if they were still out and okay, so she might as well answer her. She typed back a few lines and leaned back in her chair. She asked what was happening in Kyoto, specifically if there were places that the underworld liked to move people.

[Sengoku]

- Five days later -

Akagi Shoji. This was the name of the bōsōzoku who died during the night chase Katsumoto and Tsubasa conducted that night. Younger brother of Akagi Sumire who rode with them as well. Funerals typically required well over three weeks, potentially more than a month, to set up. Shoji's was paid for by the Takeda clan, who further expended funds to expedite the process to be held as soon as possible. The ceremony was overseen by an onmyōji, reciting a prayer for the deceased as he stood before the closed casket, raising a stick of incense in his hands. Half of the attendants here were strangers to Katsumoto. Family and relatives, if he had to guess. The other half were Crimson Cavalry, bankrolled by the Takeda clan. Each group sat on opposite sides of the seating arrangement. A reminder that the bōsōzoku were still organized criminals to some degree, contrasting the "clean" lives of the rest of the Akagi family. Sumire herself sat with the Crimson Cavalry, not with her family.

It came time for each attendee to walk up to the casket to offer a prayer and final words to the departed. Sumire's hands shook as she held up her stick of incense, muttering a quiet prayer. Family members and fellow bikers alike followed suit, some of them putting a hand on the casket before walking off, others kissing it before leaving. An older woman of around her early-50s burst into tears as she dropped to her knees, hugging the casket.

"SHOJI, YOU IDIOT!" she wailed. "I told you this would happen! I wanted what was good for you and your sister, and you go off to die before me!" Several of the bikers and relatives alike gently pull at, but she will not budge. Only when Katsumoto and Tsubasa walk up does she let go. The woman's face was still stained with tears and running makeup, but her hands were still stretched out towards the casket. "SHOJIII! SHOJI, PLEASE COME BACK TO ME, SHOJIII!"

When it was their time, Katsumoto stepped up first. Dressed in all black but with a red undershirt, complete with sunglasses that were removed and tucked into his breast pocket. There was no Takeda mon on his back. No heraldry. He was here to pay his respects, not rep his clan. He followed the motions like everyone else. A deep bow, showing reverence to the dead. Taking and lighting a stick of incense and raising it to his forehead with both hands while uttering any prayer he so wished. He kept quiet, so much so that not even Tsubasa would hear it. This was private between him and a man who died for him. Closed-casket. He was mangled to the point that even the doctors could not repair his face from the damage inflicted. Bullets and then sliding onto concrete at full speed from a motorcycle. When Katsumoto stuck the incense into the holder, Tsubasa would finally hear him say, "I'm sorry, Shoji."

[mermalaide]

She was always at his right shoulder. This day, Tsubasa dressed in formal kimono. Anyone that spilled blood for Takeda got her full respect in her opinion. And they got Katsu's respect as well. The black kimono was beautiful and stark against what others might have worn. Her hair was done in a very simple way. You might not have recognized her for a moment. In her hands she carried an offering for the funeral display. It had been from a temple and was incense and sake that was offered for the dead. No one there wore any colors of marking except family. The older woman broke her heart but she kept her composure.

When Tsubasa followed Katsu, she bowed in offering and handed the gift to the person overseeing Sho's offerings. The woman who she could not even begin to console, she bowed to deeply. The woman had to grieve. She should not be interfered with, but still she deserved courtesy, acknowledgement. Tsubasa had no real family to speak of, with the exception of Katsu and the woman who taught her the art of death. The embroidery on the kimono she wore was black. It was barely visible. She offered a clean handkerchief which she pressed into the hands of the older woman, squeezing them for a moment, before letting go and still following Katsu. 


She felt a pang in her heart hearing him murmur like that, it was less heard and more felt. Out of everyone in that clan, Katsu had the softest heart, he just sheltered it. She remembers his horse and how he had been then. When it was her turn she bowed deeply and offered her incense. She remember teasing him, and felt guilt. It was quiet and out of her mouth before she knew it. "A rain check then, Sho." The afterlife would be something, wouldn't it? She would have to pour him a drink when she eventually got there herself. It was a nod of acknowledgement. How many friends would pass, she wondered then. 

She looked up at his picture. He looked so somber and unlike himself then. She wouldn't remember Shoji like that. She refused. There was a picture she had, where a bunch of them had gone up to some hot springs, hooting and hollering. He was in the picture and was flexing like some of the other boys. His hair was big and he had a shit eating grin on his face. She put it near his incense. "That's better huh?" She closed her eyes and it hit her a little listening to the sounds of the wake around them.