Fic: Vengeance
Tenipuri fic! :D
Title: Vengeance
Pairing/Characters: slight Sanada/Yukimura; Seigaku + Rikkai
Genre: Yakuza AU
Rating/Warnings: T/Violence, character death, language.
Word Count: ~4400
Summary: Rikkai pays a visit to Seishun to take back what is rightfully theirs.
--
Vengeance
He breathed in deeply, focused on the target in front of him, aimed. Before he could pull the trigger, a flash of light shot into his eyes and a weary voice chided, “Form, Sanada.” He froze.
Yukimura closed the door carefully behind him and glided down the steps. He observed critically for a moment before taking hold of his wrist. “This needs to come up more. Bend your arms more this way. Shoulders back. Decrease the tension in your calves and widen your stance.” He continued to walk around Sanada, pointing out little mistakes in his position and occasionally pulling him into the correct one when Sanada was too slow to move or he couldn’t find the words to instruct him.
Sanada closed his eyes and let himself be controlled, blindly following every command. The cool pressure of Yukimura’s hands felt good against his skin and though he took no particular pleasure from that, he did take a certain amount in knowing that he was the only one Yukimura felt comfortable enough with to casually touch.
“Fire,” Yukimura whispered, and he obeyed without thinking. The recoil caused his arm to jerk backwards, his elbow skimming across soft linen, but Yukimura didn’t so much as wince from either the unintentional contact or the noise of the shot echoing throughout the empty shooting range.
Sanada removed his protective gear and turned around. He didn’t have to look to know that the bullet had torn a hole directly in the center of the target, approximately half a centimeter to the left of Sanada’s previous shot. “Thank you, as always.” He bowed.
Yukimura smiled. “You have no need to thank me for helping you perfect a skill that will inevitably be used for my benefit. “ He drew a pair of silk gloves from his pocket and slipped them delicately over his slender hands. He gestured towards a black cap hanging on a hook. “Put that on. We have business.”
“Yes.” After cleaning off and reloading the gun, he stashed it in the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieved the cap, letting it settle into its usual position.
They left the shooting range and got into the black SUV idling just outside. Yukimura rolled down the panel separating them from the driver. “Jackal. I need you to get in touch with Niou, Marui, and Akaya, especially Akaya. Have them meet us at 16th.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Yukimura rolled the panel back up and slumped back in his seat. “If they’d only waited until Yagyuu was out… If they hadn’t taken Yanagi… If I had never been ill, none of this would’ve…”
“Yukimura. This is no time for regrets. Now, may I ask what our objective is?”
Yukimura’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Seishun has challenged us again. Our secondary objective is to retrieve Yanagi - they have him alive and mostly unharmed. Our primary goal?” He chuckled bitterly. “Our primary goal is survival.”
“What are their terms?”
“Make no mistake, it was always going to be a battle, no matter how much cash they demanded, and they’re certainly not just going to let Yanagi go for a paltry 12 million.”
“So… they wait for us to deliver the money and then find some excuse to start shooting at us.”
“It’s a reasonable enough setup. We’ve used it more than once.”
“True.”
The rest of the drive was spent methodically disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling weapons, out of routine more than necessity. Jackal pulled up just outside of the dimly-lit office building known to be a center of operations for Seishun just as Yukimura was replacing the clip on his last pistol. Sanada glanced at him for a moment before busying himself with the inner workings of his own gun. He focused on the task, sparing only an ear to listen to the directions Yukimura was giving.
“I assume you’re in position?” he asked the small monitor embedded in the car’s front panel. The screen went blue, then Marui’s cheerful face appeared.
“Roger! Hey, so are we really going to get Yanagi back?”
Yukimura tensed slightly, but continued to smile. “That would be the plan, yes. And you can tell everyone I said so. I’m sure Akaya will be quite excited to hear the news.”
Marui grinned. “Oh, he will. Anyone who gets between him and his senpai is signing his own death warrant. Me’n’Niou are ready to go too. No clue what he’s up to, but I’ve invented a brilliant new weapon. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.” He patted the rather oddly shaped piece of metal that was slung over his back and winked.
“Good. Wait for Jackal to get there before you move. Tell Niou that he can go in, as long as he’s careful. Sanada and I will enter from the front entrance to ‘begin negotiations’ just as soon as you’re inside. Have Akaya wait outside until I send another signal. We don’t want him moving too soon and jeopardizing the entire plan. But once he receives it, make sure he gets in as quickly as possible and doesn’t let anything slow him down.”
“Understood. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.” His smile disappeared. “Be careful, sir.”
“You as well. I don’t want to lose anyone today.” Yukimura was silent for a moment, apparently struggling with whether or not to say more. In the end, he settled simply for “Keep in contact,” and dropped the connection.
The silence sat heavily between them for a minute. “Please don’t be worried,” Sanada said, wanting to reach over and stop Yukimura’s hands from shaking. “Seishun may have bested us once before, but that was a fluke. We shall not underestimate them this time.”
“Indeed we won’t. We’ll leave nothing to chance. You go after Tezuka. I’ll take out the kid wonder myself.”
“…Right. And you’re sure… you’re healthy enough to…”
“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Yukimura snapped, dropping his calm façade for a moment before continuing, as if nothing had happened. “I appreciate your concern, Sanada, but I am the only one who can kill him without being killed myself. You are needed to distract Tezuka, Renji is incapacitated, and Akaya’s far better suited to a large scale battle than a one-on-one duel, as I’m afraid it’ll become.” His eyes hardened and he grabbed one of Sanada’s hands, almost crushing it in his grip. “And I’m perfectly healthy now. This shaking? It’s not fear. It’s not infirmity. It’s bloodlust, plain and simple. We’ll kill those bastards.” He let go and stared out the window.
Sanada did the same, glaring at the grey city for a tense minute until Marui finally called to inform them that he and the others were ready. “Well be heading in, then,” Yukimura said lightly, and hung up. “Sanada.”
“Yes.” He bent to retrieve the case containing the ransom money - a sickening cliché, but then Seishun had always been full of traditionalists - and got out of the car. Yukimura followed, tugging casually at his suit jacket, mask, and gloves, as if trying to make himself look that much more presentable before an important meeting, and started up the stairs to the building, completely ignoring the security cameras that swiveled to track his progress.
They were greeted by a quiet, traditionally-dressed young woman with two long braids and three concealed weapons. Yukimura continued to act according to Seishun’s scenario, informing her than they had a very important meeting with the president, handing over a formal-looking letter that Tezuka had sent. She bowed and escorted them to the elevator.
They go off on the 24th floor and she showed them to a conference room, then bowed again and returned to the elevator. Yukimura sneered at her retreating figure before pushing the door open.
All of Seishun’s top members were waiting, seated in a semicircle around a large wooden table, except for Kawamura. Word had it he’d been ambushed by a group of speculating mobsters from Osaka, and that he was still recovering. Sanada hoped it was true. The man could be dangerous, but he was mostly an annoying distraction they were better off not having to deal with. He glanced at the rest of them in turn - Inui, the traitor, who had sold Yanagi for his position with Seishun; Kaidoh, the man said to have infinite ammo, who stalked his prey with the tenacity of a snake; Kikumaru, whose childish demeanor hid his impressive speed much like the bandage on his left cheek hid a scar no one could explain; his partner Oishi, the oft-overlooked but reliable second-in-command; Tezuka, the leader, as expressionless as ever; Fuji, the unreadable; Momoshiro, the trickster in the guise of a strong man; and finally, Echizen, Seishun’s miracle brat, the one that had crushed Sanada’s leg with a series of bullets and smirked as he walked away. Sanada hoped Yukimura made him hurt, that he tortured that smug grin off his face before erasing it permanently. The thought of Yukimura standing over his corpse made the corners of his mouth turn up grimly. Soon no one would remember the cocky little bastard, or Seishun, and Rikkai would reclaim its rightful control of the city.
All that remained to be done of the preliminary work was to dispose of these pretenses. He set the case down on the table and opened it, displaying its contents to the men. Yukimura took a seat, but Sanada chose to remain standing and continued to stare menacingly at each of them.
“Gentlemen,” Yukimura began smoothly, “we have brought what you have requested, and now I must ask that you uphold your end of the bargain.”
“Of course. First, however, you must allow us to ensure that you have kept your word,” Tezuka responded. “Fuji.”
The slender man slid easily from his chair and circled the table, stopping next to Sanada. “Sorry for this. I’m sure you understand this is merely a formality,” he said as he spun the case towards himself and began rifling through the bills, the innocent looking smile never disappearing.
“Certainly. It’s not an unreasonable request,” Yukimura replied. They seemed to smile at each other, though Sanada was certain Yukimura was doing no such thing, until Fuji completed his inspection and announced that there was nothing strange about the money.
Tezuka nodded and waited for Fuji to return to his seat before standing. “Very well. Now allow us to complete our end of the deal. If you would follow me.” He headed towards the back of the room, and, after hitting some concealed switch, stepped into another elevator which seemed to come from nowhere. As Sanada and Yukimura followed him, Kaidoh, Inui, and Echizen stood and escorted them onto the elevator, pressing uncomfortably against them. Yukimura said nothing, merely quirking an eyebrow as if to ask, “So Tezuka requires this many bodyguards to feel comfortable around us?”
When the elevator reached its destination, they all stepped out into an unfurnished and dimly lit room with a single door. They passed through it and into another small room with three different doors. Tezuka chose the one on the left and led the way through a series of winding corridors. They stopped a large, vault-like door where Tezuka’s fingerprints and retinal pattern were scanned by a machine. The door opened with a hiss of hydraulics onto a bright cell and Yanagi sitting cross-legged on a bed, hands tied together by a length of cord. His hair didn’t seem to have been cut since he had been imprisoned; he had to shake thick brown locks out of his face when he looked up.
“Seiichi. Genichirou. A pleasure to see you again,” he said calmly, voice breaking from what must have been disuse. At a gesture from Tezuka, Kaidoh took out a knife and sliced the cord from his wrists. Yanagi gasped as the blood started to flow again and began to flex his fingers, wincing.
Yukimura crossed the room and helped Yanagi to his feet. “It’s been a long time, Renji. Can you walk?”
“I can, and it’s good to see that you’re able to as well.” Renji smiled and took the arm Yukimura offered.
“We’re satisfied,” he told Tezuka. “Please escort us back to the entrance.”
Tezuka nodded, but Echizen pulled out a gun. “Please put your weapon away when you’re speaking to the buchou,” he said, leveling it at his chest.
Yukimura slowly dropped his gaze to the pistol in his right hand. “My apologies,” he said quietly, “force of habit.” Then he fired, two wild shots that arced over Echizen’s shoulder and buried themselves in the wall. Echizen responded with a shot of his own, hitting Yukimura squarely in the chest.
Kaidoh began shouting for backup and Tezuka had his gun out, pointing it resolutely at Sanada. But Sanada only saw Yukimura, facing off against Echizen. He didn’t so much as flinch when the bullet tore into his clothes - if anything, he leaned into the shot.
Echizen raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re prepared at least.” He gestured with his gun. “Pretty solid vest you’ve got there.”
“Pretty weak bullets you’ve got there,” Yukimura responded calmly.
“Left, straight, right twice, straight again and then right,” Sanada found himself instructing Yanagi. “Then you’ll find the elevator. Akaya should be here soon. Make sure you stay with him no matter what.” He pressed a phone into his shaking fingers and pushed him towards the hallway before stepping back in time to avoid Tezuka’s shot. Beside him, Yukimura and Echizen continued to stare each other down.
A brief moment of frozen silence was interrupted by Tezuka barking, “Kaidoh, Inui! After him!” They obeyed and the four of them were left alone.
“I don’t understand,” Tezuka said stiffly. “There is no reason for you to be on the offensive. We would have let you go unharmed.”
“Would you really?” Yukimura asked sweetly, eyes gleaming fiercely. “I don’t recall you ever being particularly fond of letting go of such valuable assets in exchange for such insignificant amounts of money.”
Tezuka’s lips twitched and he seemed about to reply when Echizen drawled, “It’s called honor. I’m sure you’ve never had any of that, and I’m not too clear on the concept either, but if buchou said he’d let you leave, he would. Don’t understand it myself.” He spun his gun around. “If I’d had my way, I’dve shot you in the back of the head the second you entered the building.”
Sanada tensed. “Of all the arrogant…”
But Yukimura was nodding, probably really smiling under the surgical mask. “I would have done the same. It’s a shame I’m going to have to kill you. Rikkai could use some more like you.”
Echizen shrugged. “Well, maybe I’ll look into it. Shame about the leadership, though. I’d have to do something about that.”
“I’d like to see you try. Sanada! I’ll leave Tezuka to you. Plan to rendezvous at the elevator!” He dashed for the door, squeezing off a few quick rounds as he did so. Echizen chased after him, and bursts of gunfire echoed down the hallway. Sanada drew his weapon and dropped into a ready stance, watching Tezuka for the slightest hint of movement.
Some instinct told him to get down and he rolled. A bullet pierced the wall where his head had been, though he would have sworn Tezuka hadn’t so much as blinked. “Phantom…” he muttered.
He wasn’t as quick when the next shot came, and it clipped his shoulder, sending a trickle of blood streaming down his arm.
Light reflected off of Tezuka’s glasses. “There’s no need to fight, Sanada. If you drop your weapon, I promise to let you go free, provided you agree to-”
“Like hell you will!” Sanada snarled and pointed his Rai at Tezuka. The shot was faster than he anticipated and the bullet lodged in Tezuka’s right arm. Dark blood began to spill out and Tezuka groaned involuntarily, though his other arm didn’t waver. A burst of light flashed from the barrel of his gun and a wave of pain crashed through Sanada’s body.
He fell, left hand automatically clutching at his knee. It came back covered in thick, red blood and all he could think was Not again. Tezuka slowly began to approach as he gasped in pain, attempting to struggle into a standing position.
“So this is your choice. I’ll make it quick then.” He stood back, as if allowing Sanada a chance to make his peace with God before finishing him, though he kept his gun trained steadily on Sanada’s forehead and his finger on the trigger.
Sanada continued to struggle to his feet, but eventually gave up, closing his eyes.
A shot rang out.
And Sanada opened his eyes to find that he’d hit Tezuka in the left elbow. The gun fell from his fingers and clattered on the ground. Sanada forced himself to his feet, leaning on the wall for support, and struggled over to Tezuka, who was attempting to clutch at his left arm. He drew back a fist and smashed it into his chin, sending him crashing to the floor. A shudder of pain rolled through him and a thick wall of darkness blurred his vision. He stumbled, then gritted his teeth and forced himself to start walking.
“A hostage,” he muttered to himself, more to keep himself conscious than anything, “we can use Tezuka as a hostage. If they won’t let us out, we grab him and hold a gun to his head until they do.” He dragged himself down the corridor, leaving Tezuka’s unconscious form behind. “It’s the smart thing to do, leaving him alive. A back-up plan. Law of Rikkai. No matter how confident you are, always have a back-up plan.” He turned the corner and paused to spit out a mouthful of blood. “Damn this knee. Always the knee. Why they can’t…” He sagged against the wall and blinked furiously. “…can’t hit anything else is beyond me,” he finished, and pushed his way through the door.
Yukimura was slumped in the corner with his arms folded across his chest and his head down. He didn’t look up when the door squeaked or when Sanada shouted his name. Sanada forced his legs to move faster, faster until he was across the room, bending down, ignoring the agony of his injured leg and oblivious to everything but Yukimura. He called his name again, softer this time, and Yukimura finally looked up. His skin was pale, his eyes were dim and unfocused - but he was alive.
“Sanada,” he said faintly, then coughed and repeated it with a little more strength. “Sanada, did you… take care of Tezuka?”
“Yes.” There was no need to ask what had happened to Echizen. If Yukimura was here and alive, Echizen was dead, plain and simple. Yukimura wouldn’t give up until either he or his adversary had breathed his last. “Can you walk?”
“Not… really. Not without help. Will you…?”
Sanada forced himself to stand and pulled Yukimura to his feet. Yukimura slung an arm around Sanada’s shoulders, careful to avoid the scratch Tezuka had given him, but kept his other arm pressed tightly against his stomach. They moved slowly but steadily towards the elevator.
Once safely inside, Sanada hesitated, running a finger up and down the buttons.
“The top one, Sanada. We’re going to the roof. Akaya said he’d send a helicopter.”
Sanada nodded, but didn’t press the button. “So they got out? What about the others?”
“Yes, Akaya found Renji, killing that traitorous bastard in the process. Marui and Jackal ambushed Momoshiro, but then that so-called Golden Pair caught up with them and they just couldn’t do anything against them. They’re alive, but pretty badly hurt. Niou… I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He reached out shakily and hit the button for the roof before slumping onto Sanada, long fingers curling tightly around his arm.
“How badly are you hurt?” Sanada finally had the courage to ask, pushing aside his own pain for the moment. He scanned Yukimura’s body, but could see no signs of injury, other than the arm clutched to his stomach.
“Not… not badly. He grazed me more than anything. I just… forgot what it felt like. And, heh, I never imagined he’d have something that could get through my defenses. But I’ll be fine. Really.” He pushed away from Sanada, wobbled a bit, but managed to stay standing on his own.
“I’m glad. As soon as we get back, we’ll get fixed up.”
Yukimura looked down. “The knee again?” Sanada nodded. “Fuckers. Just as soon as we’re patched up, we’re coming back with an army. We’ll slaughter them all.”
“I look forward to it.”
The doors slid open and Sanada limped onto the roof, gun drawn. He looked around cautiously, but didn’t see any signs of movement, so he waved Yukimura forward. They took shelter behind a vent and Yukimura pulled out his phone. “Akaya, when will you be here? Soon? Good.” He paused for a second before asking, “Any word from Niou?” His brow furrowed. “I see. If you hear from him, inform me immediately.”
“He’ll be fine. He won’t let you down,” Sanada said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Yukimura shrugged it off. “I know. It’s just… Oh, never mind. It’s nothing. He’d better hurry it up, though, or he’ll be surrounded. Even Niou can’t take on the rest of Seishun by himself.”
“That may be true, but he’s good enough at weaseling his way out of tough situations,” Sanada said wryly.
If Yukimura had something to say in response, it was forestalled by the dull roar of an approaching helicopter. He got to his feet with more vigor than Sanada had expected and took his hand to help him up. It was Sanada’s turn to lean on Yukimura as they watched it approach. “Thank God for Akaya, really,” Yukimura said warmly, and Sanada had to agree. When the helicopter finally settled on the landing pad, they began to make their way slowly towards it, Yukimura helping to support Sanada when his pace faltered.
When they got close, Kirihara opened the door and dashed out, taking Yukimura’s place as Sanada’s crutch. He hopped up into his seat and reached down to help them up. Sanada reached out to take his hand.
He froze as Yukimura suddenly fell against him, and spun around to hold him steady. “Yukimura? Yukimura, what’s wrong?” As he clutched him to his chest, hot rivulets of blood began to drip over his fingers. Yukimura’s eyes were wide with shock and he coughed violently, splatters of red staining the blue surgical mask. As his head fell forward limply onto Sanada’s shoulder, Sanada looked up to see Echizen standing just to the right of the elevator. His cap was gone and the sun was directly behind him, giving his black hair an unearthly glow.
And Sanada would have sworn, as Akaya dragged Yukimura into the helicopter and screamed, eyes blood red, for Sanada to get in, that he was muttering his goddamn catchphrase and laughing.
The trip back to Rikkai seemed as if it would never end. Akaya was in constant motion, shouting what some distant corner of Sanada’s mind realized were instructions for their medical staff, shouting at the pilot to go faster, goddammit, and twisting around in his seat to stare at Yukimura’s still form and Sanada’s blank face before turning back around to shout some more.
Sanada’s head hurt, and that same far-off voice informed him that his knee was in terrible condition and actually hurt more, if he could be bothered to pay attention to his own body, but the splitting pain in his head made it impossible for him to comprehend this. All he could think about was Yukimura. Yukimura and Echizen.
Echizen had shot Yukimura in the back. But that was impossible. Echizen was dead. Yukimura had killed him. He had to have. He never gave up until his prey was dead. He had as good as said he had killed him. He might not have been able to stand, but he hadn’t looked defeated. And yet…
And yet, here he was with a bullet in his back.
Yukimura stirred slightly and immediately all of Sanada’s senses were awake and focused on him. He dragged himself out of his seat to the back, where he was lying on his side. He slowly opened his eyes. “Sanada… what…”
Sanada fumbled for Yukimura’s hand and pressed it tightly to his chest. “Echizen shot you,” he said bluntly.
Yukimura’s eyes widened. “But I- …I killed… I killed him.” He struggled to get up, snatching his hand from Sanada’s grasp, but his limbs failed him and he could only gasp empty syllables. “Dead… cold… blind… killed’m… shot… how… should be…” The blue of his eyes shone wildly, almost crazily, and his pupils shrunk to near-invisibility, overwhelmed by maddened indigo. He convulsed violently and Sanada threw himself on top of him, holding him forcibly still until he had shaken himself into silence and stillness.
“Sanada…” he said softly, “take off my mask.”
“But-” Sanada choked back the automatic objection and obeyed, knowing it was an order. It was the first time he had seen Yukimura’s entire face in more than five years, but the sight of the full, sensual lips gave him no pleasure, covered in rusty dried blood as they were. He was vulnerable without the mask, almost naked, for it was as much a part of him as his delicate frame and steely resolve. For the first time, Sanada fully comprehended that the invincible Yukimura was dying right before his eyes.
Yukimura drew Sanada’s face towards his own, caressing his mouth before covering it momentarily with his own. He tasted of copper and pain, bitter flavors that lingered long after Yukimura had withdrawn. “Sa… Genichiroh. Promise me. Promise me you’ll get revenge,” he whispered brokenly before falling back, eyes closing slowly.
“Seiichi,” Sanada murmured and turned away. The helicopter finally landed with a jarring thud.
Leaning heavily on his good leg, Sanada threw the door open and limped out onto the Rikkai roof, waving the doctors off and pushing them toward where Yukimura lay motionless, a demonic scowl darkening his angelic features.
He stood alone, glaring fiercely into the sunset and raising a fist to his chest before thrusting it forward.
“Seiichi. I promise.”
--
I once said that I didn't much like this pairing unless it involved yakuzas or gun violence and I think that pretty much holds XD I wrote this to challenge myself and... came out of it shipping Yukimura/Ryoma >___> They're so snarky D:
Comments and critiques are very welcome :D
Title: Vengeance
Pairing/Characters: slight Sanada/Yukimura; Seigaku + Rikkai
Genre: Yakuza AU
Rating/Warnings: T/Violence, character death, language.
Word Count: ~4400
Summary: Rikkai pays a visit to Seishun to take back what is rightfully theirs.
--
Vengeance
He breathed in deeply, focused on the target in front of him, aimed. Before he could pull the trigger, a flash of light shot into his eyes and a weary voice chided, “Form, Sanada.” He froze.
Yukimura closed the door carefully behind him and glided down the steps. He observed critically for a moment before taking hold of his wrist. “This needs to come up more. Bend your arms more this way. Shoulders back. Decrease the tension in your calves and widen your stance.” He continued to walk around Sanada, pointing out little mistakes in his position and occasionally pulling him into the correct one when Sanada was too slow to move or he couldn’t find the words to instruct him.
Sanada closed his eyes and let himself be controlled, blindly following every command. The cool pressure of Yukimura’s hands felt good against his skin and though he took no particular pleasure from that, he did take a certain amount in knowing that he was the only one Yukimura felt comfortable enough with to casually touch.
“Fire,” Yukimura whispered, and he obeyed without thinking. The recoil caused his arm to jerk backwards, his elbow skimming across soft linen, but Yukimura didn’t so much as wince from either the unintentional contact or the noise of the shot echoing throughout the empty shooting range.
Sanada removed his protective gear and turned around. He didn’t have to look to know that the bullet had torn a hole directly in the center of the target, approximately half a centimeter to the left of Sanada’s previous shot. “Thank you, as always.” He bowed.
Yukimura smiled. “You have no need to thank me for helping you perfect a skill that will inevitably be used for my benefit. “ He drew a pair of silk gloves from his pocket and slipped them delicately over his slender hands. He gestured towards a black cap hanging on a hook. “Put that on. We have business.”
“Yes.” After cleaning off and reloading the gun, he stashed it in the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieved the cap, letting it settle into its usual position.
They left the shooting range and got into the black SUV idling just outside. Yukimura rolled down the panel separating them from the driver. “Jackal. I need you to get in touch with Niou, Marui, and Akaya, especially Akaya. Have them meet us at 16th.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Yukimura rolled the panel back up and slumped back in his seat. “If they’d only waited until Yagyuu was out… If they hadn’t taken Yanagi… If I had never been ill, none of this would’ve…”
“Yukimura. This is no time for regrets. Now, may I ask what our objective is?”
Yukimura’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Seishun has challenged us again. Our secondary objective is to retrieve Yanagi - they have him alive and mostly unharmed. Our primary goal?” He chuckled bitterly. “Our primary goal is survival.”
“What are their terms?”
“Make no mistake, it was always going to be a battle, no matter how much cash they demanded, and they’re certainly not just going to let Yanagi go for a paltry 12 million.”
“So… they wait for us to deliver the money and then find some excuse to start shooting at us.”
“It’s a reasonable enough setup. We’ve used it more than once.”
“True.”
The rest of the drive was spent methodically disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling weapons, out of routine more than necessity. Jackal pulled up just outside of the dimly-lit office building known to be a center of operations for Seishun just as Yukimura was replacing the clip on his last pistol. Sanada glanced at him for a moment before busying himself with the inner workings of his own gun. He focused on the task, sparing only an ear to listen to the directions Yukimura was giving.
“I assume you’re in position?” he asked the small monitor embedded in the car’s front panel. The screen went blue, then Marui’s cheerful face appeared.
“Roger! Hey, so are we really going to get Yanagi back?”
Yukimura tensed slightly, but continued to smile. “That would be the plan, yes. And you can tell everyone I said so. I’m sure Akaya will be quite excited to hear the news.”
Marui grinned. “Oh, he will. Anyone who gets between him and his senpai is signing his own death warrant. Me’n’Niou are ready to go too. No clue what he’s up to, but I’ve invented a brilliant new weapon. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.” He patted the rather oddly shaped piece of metal that was slung over his back and winked.
“Good. Wait for Jackal to get there before you move. Tell Niou that he can go in, as long as he’s careful. Sanada and I will enter from the front entrance to ‘begin negotiations’ just as soon as you’re inside. Have Akaya wait outside until I send another signal. We don’t want him moving too soon and jeopardizing the entire plan. But once he receives it, make sure he gets in as quickly as possible and doesn’t let anything slow him down.”
“Understood. We’ll let you know when we’re ready.” His smile disappeared. “Be careful, sir.”
“You as well. I don’t want to lose anyone today.” Yukimura was silent for a moment, apparently struggling with whether or not to say more. In the end, he settled simply for “Keep in contact,” and dropped the connection.
The silence sat heavily between them for a minute. “Please don’t be worried,” Sanada said, wanting to reach over and stop Yukimura’s hands from shaking. “Seishun may have bested us once before, but that was a fluke. We shall not underestimate them this time.”
“Indeed we won’t. We’ll leave nothing to chance. You go after Tezuka. I’ll take out the kid wonder myself.”
“…Right. And you’re sure… you’re healthy enough to…”
“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Yukimura snapped, dropping his calm façade for a moment before continuing, as if nothing had happened. “I appreciate your concern, Sanada, but I am the only one who can kill him without being killed myself. You are needed to distract Tezuka, Renji is incapacitated, and Akaya’s far better suited to a large scale battle than a one-on-one duel, as I’m afraid it’ll become.” His eyes hardened and he grabbed one of Sanada’s hands, almost crushing it in his grip. “And I’m perfectly healthy now. This shaking? It’s not fear. It’s not infirmity. It’s bloodlust, plain and simple. We’ll kill those bastards.” He let go and stared out the window.
Sanada did the same, glaring at the grey city for a tense minute until Marui finally called to inform them that he and the others were ready. “Well be heading in, then,” Yukimura said lightly, and hung up. “Sanada.”
“Yes.” He bent to retrieve the case containing the ransom money - a sickening cliché, but then Seishun had always been full of traditionalists - and got out of the car. Yukimura followed, tugging casually at his suit jacket, mask, and gloves, as if trying to make himself look that much more presentable before an important meeting, and started up the stairs to the building, completely ignoring the security cameras that swiveled to track his progress.
They were greeted by a quiet, traditionally-dressed young woman with two long braids and three concealed weapons. Yukimura continued to act according to Seishun’s scenario, informing her than they had a very important meeting with the president, handing over a formal-looking letter that Tezuka had sent. She bowed and escorted them to the elevator.
They go off on the 24th floor and she showed them to a conference room, then bowed again and returned to the elevator. Yukimura sneered at her retreating figure before pushing the door open.
All of Seishun’s top members were waiting, seated in a semicircle around a large wooden table, except for Kawamura. Word had it he’d been ambushed by a group of speculating mobsters from Osaka, and that he was still recovering. Sanada hoped it was true. The man could be dangerous, but he was mostly an annoying distraction they were better off not having to deal with. He glanced at the rest of them in turn - Inui, the traitor, who had sold Yanagi for his position with Seishun; Kaidoh, the man said to have infinite ammo, who stalked his prey with the tenacity of a snake; Kikumaru, whose childish demeanor hid his impressive speed much like the bandage on his left cheek hid a scar no one could explain; his partner Oishi, the oft-overlooked but reliable second-in-command; Tezuka, the leader, as expressionless as ever; Fuji, the unreadable; Momoshiro, the trickster in the guise of a strong man; and finally, Echizen, Seishun’s miracle brat, the one that had crushed Sanada’s leg with a series of bullets and smirked as he walked away. Sanada hoped Yukimura made him hurt, that he tortured that smug grin off his face before erasing it permanently. The thought of Yukimura standing over his corpse made the corners of his mouth turn up grimly. Soon no one would remember the cocky little bastard, or Seishun, and Rikkai would reclaim its rightful control of the city.
All that remained to be done of the preliminary work was to dispose of these pretenses. He set the case down on the table and opened it, displaying its contents to the men. Yukimura took a seat, but Sanada chose to remain standing and continued to stare menacingly at each of them.
“Gentlemen,” Yukimura began smoothly, “we have brought what you have requested, and now I must ask that you uphold your end of the bargain.”
“Of course. First, however, you must allow us to ensure that you have kept your word,” Tezuka responded. “Fuji.”
The slender man slid easily from his chair and circled the table, stopping next to Sanada. “Sorry for this. I’m sure you understand this is merely a formality,” he said as he spun the case towards himself and began rifling through the bills, the innocent looking smile never disappearing.
“Certainly. It’s not an unreasonable request,” Yukimura replied. They seemed to smile at each other, though Sanada was certain Yukimura was doing no such thing, until Fuji completed his inspection and announced that there was nothing strange about the money.
Tezuka nodded and waited for Fuji to return to his seat before standing. “Very well. Now allow us to complete our end of the deal. If you would follow me.” He headed towards the back of the room, and, after hitting some concealed switch, stepped into another elevator which seemed to come from nowhere. As Sanada and Yukimura followed him, Kaidoh, Inui, and Echizen stood and escorted them onto the elevator, pressing uncomfortably against them. Yukimura said nothing, merely quirking an eyebrow as if to ask, “So Tezuka requires this many bodyguards to feel comfortable around us?”
When the elevator reached its destination, they all stepped out into an unfurnished and dimly lit room with a single door. They passed through it and into another small room with three different doors. Tezuka chose the one on the left and led the way through a series of winding corridors. They stopped a large, vault-like door where Tezuka’s fingerprints and retinal pattern were scanned by a machine. The door opened with a hiss of hydraulics onto a bright cell and Yanagi sitting cross-legged on a bed, hands tied together by a length of cord. His hair didn’t seem to have been cut since he had been imprisoned; he had to shake thick brown locks out of his face when he looked up.
“Seiichi. Genichirou. A pleasure to see you again,” he said calmly, voice breaking from what must have been disuse. At a gesture from Tezuka, Kaidoh took out a knife and sliced the cord from his wrists. Yanagi gasped as the blood started to flow again and began to flex his fingers, wincing.
Yukimura crossed the room and helped Yanagi to his feet. “It’s been a long time, Renji. Can you walk?”
“I can, and it’s good to see that you’re able to as well.” Renji smiled and took the arm Yukimura offered.
“We’re satisfied,” he told Tezuka. “Please escort us back to the entrance.”
Tezuka nodded, but Echizen pulled out a gun. “Please put your weapon away when you’re speaking to the buchou,” he said, leveling it at his chest.
Yukimura slowly dropped his gaze to the pistol in his right hand. “My apologies,” he said quietly, “force of habit.” Then he fired, two wild shots that arced over Echizen’s shoulder and buried themselves in the wall. Echizen responded with a shot of his own, hitting Yukimura squarely in the chest.
Kaidoh began shouting for backup and Tezuka had his gun out, pointing it resolutely at Sanada. But Sanada only saw Yukimura, facing off against Echizen. He didn’t so much as flinch when the bullet tore into his clothes - if anything, he leaned into the shot.
Echizen raised an eyebrow. “Well, you’re prepared at least.” He gestured with his gun. “Pretty solid vest you’ve got there.”
“Pretty weak bullets you’ve got there,” Yukimura responded calmly.
“Left, straight, right twice, straight again and then right,” Sanada found himself instructing Yanagi. “Then you’ll find the elevator. Akaya should be here soon. Make sure you stay with him no matter what.” He pressed a phone into his shaking fingers and pushed him towards the hallway before stepping back in time to avoid Tezuka’s shot. Beside him, Yukimura and Echizen continued to stare each other down.
A brief moment of frozen silence was interrupted by Tezuka barking, “Kaidoh, Inui! After him!” They obeyed and the four of them were left alone.
“I don’t understand,” Tezuka said stiffly. “There is no reason for you to be on the offensive. We would have let you go unharmed.”
“Would you really?” Yukimura asked sweetly, eyes gleaming fiercely. “I don’t recall you ever being particularly fond of letting go of such valuable assets in exchange for such insignificant amounts of money.”
Tezuka’s lips twitched and he seemed about to reply when Echizen drawled, “It’s called honor. I’m sure you’ve never had any of that, and I’m not too clear on the concept either, but if buchou said he’d let you leave, he would. Don’t understand it myself.” He spun his gun around. “If I’d had my way, I’dve shot you in the back of the head the second you entered the building.”
Sanada tensed. “Of all the arrogant…”
But Yukimura was nodding, probably really smiling under the surgical mask. “I would have done the same. It’s a shame I’m going to have to kill you. Rikkai could use some more like you.”
Echizen shrugged. “Well, maybe I’ll look into it. Shame about the leadership, though. I’d have to do something about that.”
“I’d like to see you try. Sanada! I’ll leave Tezuka to you. Plan to rendezvous at the elevator!” He dashed for the door, squeezing off a few quick rounds as he did so. Echizen chased after him, and bursts of gunfire echoed down the hallway. Sanada drew his weapon and dropped into a ready stance, watching Tezuka for the slightest hint of movement.
Some instinct told him to get down and he rolled. A bullet pierced the wall where his head had been, though he would have sworn Tezuka hadn’t so much as blinked. “Phantom…” he muttered.
He wasn’t as quick when the next shot came, and it clipped his shoulder, sending a trickle of blood streaming down his arm.
Light reflected off of Tezuka’s glasses. “There’s no need to fight, Sanada. If you drop your weapon, I promise to let you go free, provided you agree to-”
“Like hell you will!” Sanada snarled and pointed his Rai at Tezuka. The shot was faster than he anticipated and the bullet lodged in Tezuka’s right arm. Dark blood began to spill out and Tezuka groaned involuntarily, though his other arm didn’t waver. A burst of light flashed from the barrel of his gun and a wave of pain crashed through Sanada’s body.
He fell, left hand automatically clutching at his knee. It came back covered in thick, red blood and all he could think was Not again. Tezuka slowly began to approach as he gasped in pain, attempting to struggle into a standing position.
“So this is your choice. I’ll make it quick then.” He stood back, as if allowing Sanada a chance to make his peace with God before finishing him, though he kept his gun trained steadily on Sanada’s forehead and his finger on the trigger.
Sanada continued to struggle to his feet, but eventually gave up, closing his eyes.
A shot rang out.
And Sanada opened his eyes to find that he’d hit Tezuka in the left elbow. The gun fell from his fingers and clattered on the ground. Sanada forced himself to his feet, leaning on the wall for support, and struggled over to Tezuka, who was attempting to clutch at his left arm. He drew back a fist and smashed it into his chin, sending him crashing to the floor. A shudder of pain rolled through him and a thick wall of darkness blurred his vision. He stumbled, then gritted his teeth and forced himself to start walking.
“A hostage,” he muttered to himself, more to keep himself conscious than anything, “we can use Tezuka as a hostage. If they won’t let us out, we grab him and hold a gun to his head until they do.” He dragged himself down the corridor, leaving Tezuka’s unconscious form behind. “It’s the smart thing to do, leaving him alive. A back-up plan. Law of Rikkai. No matter how confident you are, always have a back-up plan.” He turned the corner and paused to spit out a mouthful of blood. “Damn this knee. Always the knee. Why they can’t…” He sagged against the wall and blinked furiously. “…can’t hit anything else is beyond me,” he finished, and pushed his way through the door.
Yukimura was slumped in the corner with his arms folded across his chest and his head down. He didn’t look up when the door squeaked or when Sanada shouted his name. Sanada forced his legs to move faster, faster until he was across the room, bending down, ignoring the agony of his injured leg and oblivious to everything but Yukimura. He called his name again, softer this time, and Yukimura finally looked up. His skin was pale, his eyes were dim and unfocused - but he was alive.
“Sanada,” he said faintly, then coughed and repeated it with a little more strength. “Sanada, did you… take care of Tezuka?”
“Yes.” There was no need to ask what had happened to Echizen. If Yukimura was here and alive, Echizen was dead, plain and simple. Yukimura wouldn’t give up until either he or his adversary had breathed his last. “Can you walk?”
“Not… really. Not without help. Will you…?”
Sanada forced himself to stand and pulled Yukimura to his feet. Yukimura slung an arm around Sanada’s shoulders, careful to avoid the scratch Tezuka had given him, but kept his other arm pressed tightly against his stomach. They moved slowly but steadily towards the elevator.
Once safely inside, Sanada hesitated, running a finger up and down the buttons.
“The top one, Sanada. We’re going to the roof. Akaya said he’d send a helicopter.”
Sanada nodded, but didn’t press the button. “So they got out? What about the others?”
“Yes, Akaya found Renji, killing that traitorous bastard in the process. Marui and Jackal ambushed Momoshiro, but then that so-called Golden Pair caught up with them and they just couldn’t do anything against them. They’re alive, but pretty badly hurt. Niou… I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He reached out shakily and hit the button for the roof before slumping onto Sanada, long fingers curling tightly around his arm.
“How badly are you hurt?” Sanada finally had the courage to ask, pushing aside his own pain for the moment. He scanned Yukimura’s body, but could see no signs of injury, other than the arm clutched to his stomach.
“Not… not badly. He grazed me more than anything. I just… forgot what it felt like. And, heh, I never imagined he’d have something that could get through my defenses. But I’ll be fine. Really.” He pushed away from Sanada, wobbled a bit, but managed to stay standing on his own.
“I’m glad. As soon as we get back, we’ll get fixed up.”
Yukimura looked down. “The knee again?” Sanada nodded. “Fuckers. Just as soon as we’re patched up, we’re coming back with an army. We’ll slaughter them all.”
“I look forward to it.”
The doors slid open and Sanada limped onto the roof, gun drawn. He looked around cautiously, but didn’t see any signs of movement, so he waved Yukimura forward. They took shelter behind a vent and Yukimura pulled out his phone. “Akaya, when will you be here? Soon? Good.” He paused for a second before asking, “Any word from Niou?” His brow furrowed. “I see. If you hear from him, inform me immediately.”
“He’ll be fine. He won’t let you down,” Sanada said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Yukimura shrugged it off. “I know. It’s just… Oh, never mind. It’s nothing. He’d better hurry it up, though, or he’ll be surrounded. Even Niou can’t take on the rest of Seishun by himself.”
“That may be true, but he’s good enough at weaseling his way out of tough situations,” Sanada said wryly.
If Yukimura had something to say in response, it was forestalled by the dull roar of an approaching helicopter. He got to his feet with more vigor than Sanada had expected and took his hand to help him up. It was Sanada’s turn to lean on Yukimura as they watched it approach. “Thank God for Akaya, really,” Yukimura said warmly, and Sanada had to agree. When the helicopter finally settled on the landing pad, they began to make their way slowly towards it, Yukimura helping to support Sanada when his pace faltered.
When they got close, Kirihara opened the door and dashed out, taking Yukimura’s place as Sanada’s crutch. He hopped up into his seat and reached down to help them up. Sanada reached out to take his hand.
He froze as Yukimura suddenly fell against him, and spun around to hold him steady. “Yukimura? Yukimura, what’s wrong?” As he clutched him to his chest, hot rivulets of blood began to drip over his fingers. Yukimura’s eyes were wide with shock and he coughed violently, splatters of red staining the blue surgical mask. As his head fell forward limply onto Sanada’s shoulder, Sanada looked up to see Echizen standing just to the right of the elevator. His cap was gone and the sun was directly behind him, giving his black hair an unearthly glow.
And Sanada would have sworn, as Akaya dragged Yukimura into the helicopter and screamed, eyes blood red, for Sanada to get in, that he was muttering his goddamn catchphrase and laughing.
The trip back to Rikkai seemed as if it would never end. Akaya was in constant motion, shouting what some distant corner of Sanada’s mind realized were instructions for their medical staff, shouting at the pilot to go faster, goddammit, and twisting around in his seat to stare at Yukimura’s still form and Sanada’s blank face before turning back around to shout some more.
Sanada’s head hurt, and that same far-off voice informed him that his knee was in terrible condition and actually hurt more, if he could be bothered to pay attention to his own body, but the splitting pain in his head made it impossible for him to comprehend this. All he could think about was Yukimura. Yukimura and Echizen.
Echizen had shot Yukimura in the back. But that was impossible. Echizen was dead. Yukimura had killed him. He had to have. He never gave up until his prey was dead. He had as good as said he had killed him. He might not have been able to stand, but he hadn’t looked defeated. And yet…
And yet, here he was with a bullet in his back.
Yukimura stirred slightly and immediately all of Sanada’s senses were awake and focused on him. He dragged himself out of his seat to the back, where he was lying on his side. He slowly opened his eyes. “Sanada… what…”
Sanada fumbled for Yukimura’s hand and pressed it tightly to his chest. “Echizen shot you,” he said bluntly.
Yukimura’s eyes widened. “But I- …I killed… I killed him.” He struggled to get up, snatching his hand from Sanada’s grasp, but his limbs failed him and he could only gasp empty syllables. “Dead… cold… blind… killed’m… shot… how… should be…” The blue of his eyes shone wildly, almost crazily, and his pupils shrunk to near-invisibility, overwhelmed by maddened indigo. He convulsed violently and Sanada threw himself on top of him, holding him forcibly still until he had shaken himself into silence and stillness.
“Sanada…” he said softly, “take off my mask.”
“But-” Sanada choked back the automatic objection and obeyed, knowing it was an order. It was the first time he had seen Yukimura’s entire face in more than five years, but the sight of the full, sensual lips gave him no pleasure, covered in rusty dried blood as they were. He was vulnerable without the mask, almost naked, for it was as much a part of him as his delicate frame and steely resolve. For the first time, Sanada fully comprehended that the invincible Yukimura was dying right before his eyes.
Yukimura drew Sanada’s face towards his own, caressing his mouth before covering it momentarily with his own. He tasted of copper and pain, bitter flavors that lingered long after Yukimura had withdrawn. “Sa… Genichiroh. Promise me. Promise me you’ll get revenge,” he whispered brokenly before falling back, eyes closing slowly.
“Seiichi,” Sanada murmured and turned away. The helicopter finally landed with a jarring thud.
Leaning heavily on his good leg, Sanada threw the door open and limped out onto the Rikkai roof, waving the doctors off and pushing them toward where Yukimura lay motionless, a demonic scowl darkening his angelic features.
He stood alone, glaring fiercely into the sunset and raising a fist to his chest before thrusting it forward.
“Seiichi. I promise.”
--
I once said that I didn't much like this pairing unless it involved yakuzas or gun violence and I think that pretty much holds XD I wrote this to challenge myself and... came out of it shipping Yukimura/Ryoma >___> They're so snarky D:
Comments and critiques are very welcome :D