The stench of burning rubber, vomit and smoke hung distinctly in the air as time seemed to slow. The looks of distrust, confusion and intrigue all seemingly bore a hole right through me. Everything seemed to be quite clear, shockingly so. You'd imagine that after ramming a car through a gate violently like that, you'd at the very least be dazed. But no. No, I wasn't. Wasn't dazed at all. The sight of Sofiya Pavlovna seemed to keep me sane somehow.
Eh, Maybe it's because of the simple fact that she wants me dead? The fact that I can't fuck up anymore then I have? Oh who am I kidding, I'm always fucking up. Whether I do something right or not. Ah, what am I thinking now? I don't have time for this. That baby faced Asian man looking like he was straight out of the godfather was waiting no doubt for a reply. And things were looking quite tense. Too tense really.
".." I opened my mouth, only to close it. I had to say something that would NOT get me shot. Something that would HELP me. Something that was SMART. Not something that sounded suspicious or dumb. Alright, me. Showtime.
"Baby." Was the very word that escaped my lips.
....
...
…
SHIT.
Really Brain ? I stopped you. I especially remind you to not say ANYTHING that will get me SHOT. And that's the thing you come up with? Oh dear lord, it's over for me. It was a terrible, miserable ride. But Goddamn! If i'm not stupid as all hell! I mean, really? That's the ONE word that I say?
After a moment, a VERY LONG moment mind you, the tension in the air seemed to break, the Asian man's easy going grin breaking for just a moment, a look of confusion and bafflement now replacing that smile of his.
And just like that, the slowing of time completely ceased, and within the moment, everything seemed to return to normal. Everything sped up, and I could see everyone's lips, the textures on their faces, hell even their eyes (Except for the john woo looking larping asian man of course) all move, all wrinkle, all show relief and confusion.
And I was very confused as a result.
The Asian man simply laughed, like I had just said the most amusing thing in the world. Guffawing and wheezing as he hunched over, leaning on one of the men near him that I would guess as his subordinate/underling, whatever really.
A quick glance at Sofiya, to gauge her reaction, see what she makes of...this. Whatever the hell this was really. Her frown much to my confusion and relief turned upside down!...Well not really, but she relaxed ever so slightly. Lowering her gun as a neutral expression soon returned to her face as she gave a mean looking side eye to the laughing Asian man.
Keeping my head facing downwards, a fake act of shame and embarrassment. The fact that she hasn't shot me dead yet means that there's a chance. And well, it's not like I can't take it. It's the only one that I CAN take.
"Man doll face, where the hell did you pick this guy up? He's a riot!" The Asian man said as he continued to laugh, looking at Sofiya with a face of mockery and joy. Almost as if he was enjoying this situation.
"Man, Hotel Moscow really has no discipline at all doesn't it! Having one of your own subordinates embarrass you like this! Were you EVEN in the army in the first place?" The baby-faced Asian man continued, jeering at her with his snide and unpleasant remarks.
"Ah shut it "Baby" I'm not in the army anymore, and besides this kid looks young, no way he would know about discipline." Sofiya retorted with an annoyed click of the tongue. Even though my head was facing downwards, I could still imagine the look of irritation on her face as she said those words.
"You! Comrade! Explain. Now." She said sharply, her tone clearly indicating that she wasn't playing around. As she addressed me.
"W-well, Comra-Kapitan" Oops, that was close. Almost called her comrade Pavlovna.
"I was out hunting for that traitorous rat, then I ran into them." I say nervously, speaking with a slightly higher pitched voice. My face is still low towards the ground.
"They were wounded, and they needed help. I drove them back here." I finally finished, with the Asian man still chuckling in the sidelines.
"..."
Silence for Sofiya. A moment later, a sigh. A sigh of frustration no doubt.
"Come inside, we can talk about…"this" in doors." She said, turning around and then walking into hotel Moscow.
"Well, you heard your boss, come on now kiddo~" The Asian man said mockingly as he ushered everybody into the building, chuckling as he did so. Making me even more nervous as I continued to glance at everybody. They're faces all having the same look of relieved confusion.
With a sigh and a slight shudder, I grit my teeth at this bullshit as I help the others up the stairs and into the building. Bafflingly relieved that im not dead, and yet really fucking angry that doing something so simple, so elementary such as shaving my face, no matter how low the odds of doing it would succeed, succeeded.
Like what? Was I truly right? Did they actually slip? Did they lose their edge? Was doing whatever the hell they were doing truly made them dull? Did they even consider themselves as soldiers anymore?..Hah, who am I kidding? I won't get any answers here. I never truly seemed to get the answers that actually mattered.
The wounded man that I helped support up the stairs breathed hard as he struggled at doing the most basic mundane task of simply walking up the stairs. Many times he would stumble, annoying the hell out of me as I simply bared my mouth shut and said nothing.
The drizzling rain continued to hit my face gently as I made it on top of the stairs. The bright full moon seemingly mocking me as I waited for the injured man that I was supporting to regain his breath. His ragged, hard short breaths.
I wonder… If like Hikoboshi, I could finally, at fucking last go back to the peaceful future known as Orihime.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The clock ticked ever so slowly as the tobacco smoke lingered in the air, forming curls and wonky lines as it escaped the cancer stick known as a cigarette. It was odd, strange even. To Rock, who had thought that he had seen it all, this was an entirely new thing. It shouldn't excite him. It had no business doing so. It shouldn't be his business. The look on Bailalaka's face made it evident to everyone in the damn city.
But for some unknown reason, it did. It excited him so much that he felt chills throughout his body as sat there on his chair, arms crossed as he rested his head on the top rail of the piece of plastic furniture. Bailalaka. The fierce leader of hotel moscow. One of the many walking dead upon this city. And one of the most dangerous. One that was rarely unnerved. Had a skeleton in the closet. And the skeleton just fell out of it.
That Skeleton being known as the man, "Yamada Taro" No doubt an alias, a fake name. The equivalent of john smith, or john doe if his understanding of English was to be correct. He was truly an enigma. What was the meaning of his being here? What was the reason as to why he was seen next to a giant murder robot that could very well come out of an anime?
Why exactly was he here?
And what was the Black Lagoon company, hell, even the entire city itself gonna do about this? Uncle Sam already had one eye in this part of Asia. Now the robot? Forget even both eyes, his entire focus will be on this city. No doubt his hands will soon come grasping. Desperate to grab the robot as soon as possible.
Once more, a jolt of excitement ran through his body. He smelled one helluva story.
"Don't even try." A familiar voice called out to him, bringing his attention now to the owner of said voice.
"Don't even what Revy?" He asked with a raised brow, arms still crossed.
"You know what I'm talking about. That guy we picked up. Don't even. Uncle SAM wants that fucker dead or alive. It's too damn dangerous." Revy said with a sigh as she leaned against the table, taking a sip of Rock's can of beer.
"Everything in this city is too damn dangerous these days…Wouldn't you think?"
"Yeah, but even Dutch is saying no on this. And you know him, whatever the hell's got him spooked, has ample cause to have us spooked. And besides, Big sis Bailalaka is spooked too. Hell, that bitch Eda is fucking spooked as well. That guy won't just be trouble for us, he'll be the DEATH of us."
"..." Rock said nothing now as he frowned, his eyes closed as everything that Revy has said IS true. But still, a man can't help but imagine right?
"Rock. I'm telling you now, if you try and help this fucker. I WILL shoot you." Revy warned him, taking one last chug from his can of beer. And then leaving the room, leaving Rock to contemplate once more.
… If only he knew the entire story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The familiar muzzle of a gun and I had a stare down. Yep, figures. My mental stability would have gone down to insane levels and hell, perhaps even my common sense would have gone with it. Nonetheless, this was a very…was precarious the word? Well I don't really care whether or not it is. The only thing that I could possibly care about right now, is preventing the owner of the gun (Which is currently aiming at me) from putting perhaps a little too much force on the trigger and getting absolutely nailed as a result.
The room was silent, it seemed like everything was these days. Well, no matter. Only serves to really hammer in the for the umpteenth fucking time on how life threatening this situation really was. A small gulp as I looked them in the eyes, unwavering, unflinching eyes. Eyes that were a bad sign for me. How so? Those eyes were the eyes of a murderer. If not then, definitely the eyes of someone with an intent to kill, come hell or high water. Which is funny. Come to think of it, my life was currently a living hell, how ironic.
The finger on the trigger never softened, in fact, to my dismay, it tensed even further, arching as I saw the trigger being slightly pushed back by the force of the finger. Welp, time to speak.
"I would not do that if I were you." I said, hoping that they didn't notice the forced calm of my voice, never taking my eyes off of the barrel of the gun which was aimed directly at my head. I was in dire straits here. And I need to say something, ANYTHING, that would get the sights off of me.
The finger never stopped pulling on the trigger. Welp, shit.
"Okay, I guess you don't want to know who the rat is then-" BAM
The sudden velocity of the bullet that flew just next to my head ruffled a part of my hair and imparted a dull ringing in my ears.
"Oh Shit you actually shot at me!" The words escaped my mind, leaving my mouth before I could effectively shut up. My raised eyebrow and my words betraying the false facade of calm that I painstakingly held up until now.
A shocked look was my response, then a look of anger, no scratch that,. A look of fury. They quickly threw their gun to the ground. And before I knew it, their fist had struck me quite heavily in the face, and I soon found myself on the hard wooden ground.
Stunned, quite literally, I could do nothing as the flurry of blows came in. Forget raising my arms in defense, I couldn't even fucking flinch. That was how fast they were. Pain quickly followed behind their fists, and soon I was literally in a world of hurt. Well not like I wasn't hurting already, but the beating was quite inconvenient. Soon I found their body atop of mine, firmly pinning me down to the ground and making my chest flare up in pain once more.
"You…little…bastard! If anybody is the rat…then it is…YOU!" They muttered out, panting throughout the flurry of fists landing in my face. Voice full of toxicity and hatred. Ah shit. Seems like I really wasn't getting out of this huh? If a bullet won't kill me then their fists well.
Finally, for what seemed to be a minute, the flurry of fists subsided. And through my swelling eyes, I saw their figure stop, and be given a pistol. And a second later, the barrel of yet another weapon was directly aimed at my head, although this time, MUCH closer.
Fuck it, I dont care anymore, I'm playing that card. I HAVE to play that card.
"My…pocket. Check…It." I weakly say as I pant and cringe from the pain, stopping them in their tracks again.
Pausing, they said nothing as the gun rested against my forehead. Preventing me from making any sudden moves unless I want my head blown to bits. Well, not like I can anyway, I was in no condition to be doing anything…Literally.
With one hand on their pistol, I could feel the other start to rustle through my pants pockets. Awkwardly fumbling around slowly and carefully, not entirely sure of what it is that I'm talking about.
"No, that one, my left cargo pocket-" The subtle pressure lightly applied by their hand pushing the pistol gently further into my forehead quickly shut me up.
A moment later, I could feel their hand finally resting upon the thing that I was talking about…Ugh, even through the fabric I could still feel the cold from their fingers. Gross.
Their fingers stopped. A second passed, then another. One, two, three..four,five…six, seven, eight! nine! Ten! Ten seconds passed before they continued to move their fingers and hand, grasping the thing that I held in my cargo pockets. Firstly gently, then firmly, almost desperately as I felt their knuckles dig into my left thigh.
Slowly, they pulled it out of my left pocket. And quickly they let out a sharp gasp as they looked into the object that they had ever so gently pulled out from my pockets. And sharply did I feel their violent and shocked gaze upon me.
Forcing a very painful fucking grin, I spoke ever so weakly and softly.