HLA Investigations: Team Ken (Kentaro, Kenji, Momo, Belladonna, Fumiko, Parfaite)

"Home Alone."

The gruff voice cut through the smoke-filled air of the abandoned apartment, rough and bored. Kentaro leaned against the wall, tossing a rubber ball against the opposing surface in a slow, arrhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. Like a broken metronome. In his other hand, a faded TV guide, which he read aloud between drags on his cigarette.

"Chris Columbus. Next in his filmography is Only the Lonely."

Kenji's voice came sharper, annoyed. He hadn't looked up from his camera since they'd arrived, adjusting the lens with obsessive precision as he aimed it at the neighboring building. The irritation had been there ever since Fukuzawa-senpai - a fight that went sideways fast, and one the white-haired director clearly regretted getting into.

He did his best to ignore the offbeat impact of the ball against drywall. His mother had drilled rhythm into him during his piano years, back when he was still her perfect little prodigy, and the irregular tempo grated against some deeply ingrained part of his brain. Instead, he focused on the viewfinder, making minute adjustments to the zoom and focus. Adjustments he made every day. Adjustments so minute as to be pointless.

"Christ, can you do that with any movie or am I just picking the easy ones?" Kentaro caught the ball one-handed, then consulted the guide again with a smirk that showed too many yellowed teeth. "How about, uh... Oh, here we go, something in fucking Japanese - Himiko!"

Kenji sighed, one hand already reaching into his schoolbag to retrieve his headphones. "Masahiro Shinoda. Under the Blossoming Cherry Trees." His voice was flat, automatic. The same tone someone might use to recite their phone number.

Kentaro chuckled, shaking his head as the rubber ball bounced back. This time he let it hit the wall behind him and dribble across the floor, forgotten. "That shit is freaky, man. Seriously, you could do the Talent Show with that or something. Make some cash, impress the ladies..." He paused, considering. "Okay, maybe not the ladies part, let's be real. But you get it. Something less, uh..."

He trailed off, noticing Kenji wasn't listening anymore.

The director stayed silent, using the lull in conversation to slip on his headphones and plug them into his camera. For a moment, there was nothing but the ambient sounds of the city filtering through the broken windows. Distant traffic, a dog barking, someone's television playing too loud three buildings over. Then the familiar electronic buzz warmed his ears.

And with it came her voice.

"Kenji-kun? Good morning~ Are we- -filming today? Do you need help- -with the lighting? The angle looks- -a little off from here..."

Tokiwa-chan's voice was soft, delicate. Warm. Like a hot meal after walking through a snowstorm. Her words were stitched together from different recordings, each syllable cut from entirely different sentences and reassembled into something that approximated human speech. The electronic undertone was always there, that faint static that reminded him she was a ghost. Or, at the very least, something like one.

Even knowing that, Kenji couldn't help but smile when he heard it.

He had grown used to her new style of speech. Humans were adaptable creatures, especially when they were desperate. And three years was a long time. Fuck, he needs to look for a Bleeding Zone soon. Feel the cool touch of her metal, warm her with his body heat, stare into the monitor-

Kenji shook his head, throwing a cautious glance toward Kentaro. The larger man didn't seem to notice, thank god. Kenji turned back to the camera.

He didn't respond to her greeting verbally. He never did when others were around, not even the HLA. Instead he just aimed the camera more carefully through the window of the neighboring building.

It took time to get the shot right. The abandoned apartment complex they'd chosen for their stakeout had been condemned for years, which meant no one would question their presence, but it also meant the floors were unstable and the windows were either broken or so grimy they might as well have been. Kenji had to lean out carefully, bracing against a support beam that creaked ominously under his slight weight.

Through the viewfinder, he watched the window across the street. Third floor, corner apartment. The intel from Rin had been solid. This was one of the Fujiwara Senki's regular meeting spots, unofficial but consistent. How the hell she managed to figure that out was anyone's guess, but background characters like her were convenient (if lazy) plot devices for stuff like this. She probably was informed about it while making deals with more unscrupulous students, or heard someone gossiping in the bathroom while she was eating her lunch there or some other cliche.

Yeah, that's how the real world worked. At least, in Kenji'd mind.

Sure enough, after about fifteen minutes of waiting, a figure appeared in the window.

Momofuku Chikata. The sukeban herself.

On the taller end for most girls, maybe a few centimeters taller than Kenji, but more muscular and intimidating than him even from this distance. She stood with her arms crossed, staring down at the streets below with a scowl everyone in Kageoka knew by reputation. But she wasn't alone. She was speaking to someone just out of frame, lips moving in what was presumably an argument.

On the camera's screen, small strings of characters began appearing beneath the girl, white subtitles against the dark-lit background. Kenji leaned in closer, reading them as they scrolled past. He might not be able to hear what she was saying, but the angle she stood at was enough. His lip-reading skills were better with English than Japanese, but Tokiwa-chan was willing to subtitle for him, and that made all the difference.

"-still can't believe we pulled it off."

A pause. Likely waiting for the other person to respond. Momo shook her head. Disagreement?

"Doesn't matter. Rodionova's empire is crumbling. Her little extortion ring is done."

Kenji's eyes narrowed. He had expected as much after reviewing the security footage, watching as the Senki stayed inside the bleeding zone with the Student Council after Rin activated her Garganta. Still, he was a bit annoyed. Even though HE had been the one to set things up the way they fell, he didn't manage to get a scrap of footage! What a waste.

"Who's she talking to?" Kentaro's voice came from behind him, closer now. The delinquent had abandoned his ball game and moved to look over Kenji's shoulder at the camera screen, cautious to not step too close and risk the floor collapsing under their weight.

"Not sure yet. Can't see them from this angle." Kenji tilted the camera slightly, trying to catch whoever was casting that shadow in the room. "Wait... there."

No one else was visible in the frame, but Kenji could manage to get most of their shadow. Taller, hair an unkempt mess. Clothes were... spikier, if that made sense. Kenji zoomed in slightly, trying to get something more concrete, before Kentaro grunted in recognition.

"That's Furukawa. The bike chick." Kentaro leaned back, pulling out another cigarette. "Raced her once a couple months back. She's good. Real good."

Kenji didn't push the topic, though privately he was wondering how the hell Kentaro could identify someone by their silhouette. And if 'good' was referring to her driving or her... other assets.

The conversation continued, Tokiwa-chan dutifully transcribing what she could catch:

"-Dawn finished setting up the new security. Said something about encrypting our communications?"

Another pause. The silhouette moved, hand gesturing as they responded.

"You think they'd go that far?"

Another pause. Kenji's mind raced. Security upgrades. Encrypted communications. That suggested they were aware of being watched, or at least paranoid about it. That could be a problem. Usually in the heist movies, the mark didn't realize something was up till the 30-40 minute mark - and even then, the protagonists would always say it was 'all according to plan'. This was not at all according to plan. When Kenji tried making a plan with Kentaro on the drive here, the man had put his cigarette out on Kenji's hand and nearly made him fall off the motorcycle.

More movement in the window. A third shadow, this one shorter, wearing... a dress? Didn't seem like Belladonna's usual attire whenever Kenji saw her at school, and he didn't know any other women in the Fujiwara Senki.

"-think she's adjusting okay? It's only been a few days."

Another pause, and the figure moved out of frame again. Kenji cursed under his breath. So this was why movies rarely had one-sided conversations - this shit was getting annoying fast. But it was better than nothing. Maybe when this was all over, they could torture Fumiko until she gave voice lines for the eventual movie adaptation of the Nurarihyon's victory. Tokiwa could edit that in pretty easily. Maybe give it some reverb or distortion or something, to indicate the audience isn't supposed to recognize the other person even though it was kind of obvious?

Momo turned, seemingly agitated about something. Kenji kept the camera rolling, but without a clear shot of her lips, the subtitles were dead and he was just a voyeur. It was about five more minutes of footage before Momo stormed away from the window, leaving the director staring at a blank screen.

Kenji lowered the camera, pulling off his headphones.

"Get anything good?" Kentaro asked, now on his third cigarette. The small apartment was hazy with smoke.

"Enough." Kenji began reviewing the footage on the camera's small screen, Tokiwa-chan helpfully highlighting key moments. Their organization, their security upgrades. "But still not confirmed Awakened. I didn't see any obvious signs. No Idolon manifestations, no discussions about Bleeding Zones..." He looked up at Kentaro. "We need more."

Kentaro stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill. "Then we keep watching. Itsuro wants confirmation, we give him confirmation." He paused. "Otherwise the skinny bastard'll be breathing down my neck for weeks..."

Kenji nodded slowly, already thinking ahead to the next phase of their surveillance. If the Fujiwara Senki were Awakened, they'd slip up eventually. Everyone did. And when they did, Tokiwa-chan would be there to capture it.

They just had to be patient.

---

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---

The public bus wheezed to a stop at the intersection of 5th and Yamada, its brakes squealing in protest. Through the grimy windows, Kenji could see Belladonna Sola - "Dawn" as she apparently preferred - making her way toward the exit. She moved with that peculiar hunched shuffle of someone who spent too much time in front of screens, shoulders curved inward, backpack hanging off one shoulder in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

"She's getting off," Kenji muttered into Kentaro's ear. The pair were currently two cars back, trying (and mostly failing) to look inconspicuous on the larger delinquent's motorcycle.

"Copy that. Stay on her." Kentaro's voice was matter-of-fact. "And quit grabbing my jacket like that, you're makin' us look like a pair of fags."

Kenji ignored the complaint, his grip around Kentaro's torso tightening reflexively as they took a particularly sharp turn to follow the bus's route. He'd insisted on the helmet and pads - basic safety, the kind of thing any reasonable person would wear on a motorcycle. Kentaro, naturally, wore neither, his blonde hair whipping in the wind as they wove through late afternoon traffic. It looked cool in Terminator 2, but every pothole that nearly sent Kenji flying made him reconsider the chase scenes he had drafted up for his racing film idea with Wright-san.

"First Kamen Rider Black film?" Kentaro called out over the engine noise, apparently deciding that following someone on a motorcycle was the perfect time for them to continue their game.

"Kamen Rider Black: Hurry to Onigashima," Kenji responded automatically, his eyes never leaving the bus ahead of them. "Michio Konishi directed it. He followed up with The Phantom House of Devil Pass, but that wasn't as good. Pacing issues, weak antagonist motivation..." He paused. "You never struck me as a fan of tokusatsu, Tachibana-san."

Kentaro stiffened slightly - Kenji could feel it through the leather jacket - but his voice remained casual. "I used to be. Watched Black reruns when I was a kid. Kind of nostalgic thinking back on it, but when you get older, you toss that shit aside. 'Fighting for justice' and all that naive crap, you know?"

There was something in his tone that suggested the dismissal wasn't quite as complete as he wanted it to sound, but Kenji didn't press. Character motivations were a complex topic that required more nuanced approaches. Definitely an Act 2 kind of thing. Plus it was a HUGE death flag, and Kenji didn't want to be in another automotive accident.

The bus pulled away from the stop, and they watched as Dawn began walking the rest of the way home. This part was going to be tricky - motorcycles were loud and obvious, fine for tailing vehicles but terrible for following someone on foot without being noticed.

Kentaro seemed to realize this at the same moment. "You getting off here or you wanna park together?"

"I'll follow on foot - oh, like I'm Gene Hackman in The Conversation! You find somewhere to park and catch up, Kenji Kurosawa's on the ca-aayaugh!!" Kenji swung off the bike before it had fully stopped, stumbling slightly as his feet hit pavement. Kentaro shook his head but didn't comment, just revving the engine and heading toward what looked like a public parking area a block over.

Kenji adjusted his camera, making sure the neck strap was secure, and started following Dawn at a careful distance. She wasn't hard to track - not with that hair color and uniform. But she moved with purpose and a surprising speed, taking turns without hesitation, clearly walking a route she'd memorized. More than once Kenji had to break into a light jog to avoid losing her as she ducked through alleys or glided through a particularly dense crowd.

The neighborhood got rougher as they went. Not dangerous exactly, but definitely lower-income. Laundromats with half their machines broken, convenience stores with bars on the windows, apartment buildings with peeling paint and rusted balconies. Dawn fit right in, just another student heading home after a long day.

She stopped at a vending machine, feeding in coins with mechanical precision and retrieving what looked like an energy drink. Kenji ducked into a nearby alley, watching through his viewfinder as she cracked it open and took a long sip. Her eyes scanned the street. Cautious. Alert. The kind of wariness you saw in animals living in a place where they shouldn't.

Whether she saw Kenji or not was anyone's guess. She didn't act any different as she finished her drink, tossing the can into the nearest trash bin before continuing on. Kenji followed, doing his best to maintain distance.

Her apartment building was about what he'd expected. Five stories, concrete construction from the 1970s that hadn't aged well, external stairways with metal railings that had seen better decades. Dawn climbed to the third floor, pulled out a key, and let herself into unit 3-C.

Kenji raised the camera, capturing the door number and position, then carefully made his way around the building's perimeter. It took a minute to find it - there, her window, partially visible from the street. The curtains were drawn, but there was a gap, just enough to see shadows moving inside.
Kentaro appeared a few minutes later, slightly out of breath from jogging. "Where is she?"

"Third floor, unit C. But we're not going to see much from street level." Kenji scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for a better vantage point. "There. That office building across the street, the one that's half-empty. If we can get to the fourth floor..."

"Breaking and entering. Classy move, Spielberg." But Kentaro was already moving toward it, and Kenji hurried to keep up.

The office building's ground floor entrance was locked, but the side door - the one that led to the emergency stairs - had a broken latch. Probably vagrants or copper thieves. Or both. Either way, it gave them access.

They climbed quietly, their footsteps echoing in the concrete stairwell. Fourth floor, west side. Kenji tried a few offices until he found one that was both unlocked and had a window facing Dawn's apartment. The office itself was depressing - empty desks, disconnected phone lines, a calendar on the wall showing a basket full of puppies and dated 'March 1985'. Some small business that had gone under and never been properly cleared out.

But the window had a perfect view.

Kenji set up his camera on a desk, using some old filing boxes to create a stable base, and zoomed in on Dawn's apartment window. The curtains were still mostly closed, but through the gap, he could see... something. Shadows moving, the blue glow of multiple computer screens, and occasionally Dawn herself passing by.

"What's she doing?" Kentaro asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Can't tell exactly. Set design is really fucking us over here... But look at all those monitors." Kenji counted at least four separate screens, all displaying what looked like text or code. "Hacking or something. I never really got hacking, but it seems like all you really got to do is just say a bunch of buzzwords, type on the keyboard really quick, and say 'I'm in'. Oh, do you think Belladonna is like Mouse from The Matrix? Doesn't get much screentime in that film, but he's-"

"Please shut the fuck up." Kentaro's eyes didn't stray from the window.

They watched for about twenty minutes, during which Dawn barely moved from her computer setup. Occasionally she'd get up to grab something from what looked like a mini-fridge, but otherwise she was fixed in place, her fingers flying across keyboards.

Then something changed.

Dawn stood up abruptly, turning toward the window. For a heart-stopping moment, Kenji thought she'd spotted them. But no - she was looking at something else. Outside, but not in their direction.

A power pole, directly outside her building. The wires leading from it connected to dozens of apartments, a tangle of cables that spoke to decades of jury-rigged electrical work. And perched on one of the wires, perfectly still, was a cicada. It had been making the same piercing call since she had arrived home, and probably long before then too.

Dawn stared at it for a long moment, her expression unreadable at this distance. Then she raised one hand and flipped it off.

"Nice." Kenji deadpanned, keeping his camera steady.

"Hell yeah," Kentaro agreed, more genuine in his appraisal. "Fuck cicadas. And crickets too."

Dawn turned away from the window, and they heard her voice, faint but audible across the gap, say something that sounded like "Fucking surveillance bullshit."

Kentaro and Kenji immediately dropped below the window line, hearts pounding. Surveillance? Had she seen them? Made them? But after a few moments of tense silence, Kenji risked a peek.

Dawn was back at her computers, seemingly unconcerned. The cicada hadn't moved.

"Bitch nearly gave me a heart attack..." Kentaro muttered. "What was that about? Coincidence? Saw us and is fucking with us? Noticed us from the beginning?"

"Probably just a coincidence..." Kenji reviewed the footage, making notes. "Even though we didn't see much, that apartment doesn't look like a dead drop or shitty safe house, so I doubt she led us into a trap. Maybe it's related to what Momo said earlier? About getting encryption or whatever. Just... Just complaining about her work."

They continued watching for another hour, but Dawn didn't do anything more interesting than work on her computer and eat what looked like convenience store curry straight from the container. Eventually, Kentaro got restless.

"This is boring as fuuuuuuuuck. You think Itsuro would want us to plant a tracker on her? Or mail her a bomb or something?"

"A bomb?" Kenji turned to stare at him. "Why would- no, actually you're probably right there... But c'mooooon! That'd be lame as hell! Character just picks up their package during breakfast and explodes a quarter of the way into the movie? We're not working on some dark comedy here..." He turned back to the window. "...And planting a tracker would require getting close enough to her belongings without being noticed. Knowing her type, she's probably Home Alone'd the shit out of her place..."

"So what do we have?" Kentaro was already pulling out another cigarette, clearly ready to leave.

Kenji reviewed his notes, the clicking sound as he pressed the buttons of his camera loud in the quiet space. "She lives alone. Third floor, unit C. Spends most of her time on computers - probably hacking, she doesn't seem like the kind of loser to post bad reviews of great indie movies online..." Kentaro narrowed his eyes at the seemingly random comment, and Kenji quickly moved continued. "-Uh, she rarely attends school. She's in my class with Coach Tanaka and I've seen her, like, four times in the last month."

"Christ, that's worse than me. How the fuck didn't she get kicked out yet?"

"...Huh. No clue. Maybe has a deal with the teachers? Or maybe being Awakened means Principal Okomoto bends the rules for you?" Kenji packed up his camera. "That's assuming your theory about her and Ngiem-sensei are ...semi-accurate."

"That's gotta be it... I fucking knew it. I knew the old bat and that vietnamese fucker were on some bullshit!" Kentaro nodded slowly, a vein popping on his forehead. "I bet he was that yellow-suited hazmat piece of shit that blasted me... right when I was about to gore that bastard Fukuzawa..."

Kenji did his best not to scoff at the idea. Kentaro was clearly still upset about Principal Okomoto and Ngiem-sensei confiscating his cigarettes and suspending him. Seriously, that kind of twist would get laughed out of any decent writing room. And even if it was true, it was for the best that the 'yellow-suited hazmat piece of shit' stepped when he did - Kohaku was their best candidate to recruit to the HLA, even accounting for the whole 'we tried to kill you' thing. And he was one of the few students that Kenji could honestly empathize with.

Still, better not to get on the bad side of someone that could rip your head off with one hand.

They made their way back down the emergency stairs, careful not to make too much noise. On the way out, Kentaro paused by his motorcycle, looking back up at Dawn's window.

"Hey, Kurosawa. That girl you mentioned awhile back. Tokiwa... She was your friend, right?"

Kenji's hand tightened on his camera. "Yes."

"She ever talk about wanting to see the world? Travel, meet people, all that shit?"

"...Yes. Why?"

Kentaro shrugged, straddling his bike. "No reason. Just thinking about that girl up there, locked in her apartment with nothing but computer screens for company." He started the engine. "Seems lonely, is all."

Kenji didn't respond, choosing to put on his safety gear in silence. Kentaro was... not as one-dimensional as Kenji had first pegged him. If Kenji was writing the script, then Kentaro should have made a comment about her being an 'autist with tiny tits' or something. Nothing that suggested empathy, or whatever passed for it in the delinquent's head.

But as they drove away, Kenji found himself thinking about Emi. About hospital rooms and stolen moments and dreams that never got the chance to come true.

And for just a moment, he almost felt sorry for Belladonna Sola.

Almost.

At the end of the day, she was with the enemy. She wasn't like Rin, or Itsuro, or Kentaro. Hell, she wasn't even like Kohaku and the IDs. She wanted to get rid of the Idea World. To go back to a world of mundanity and sorrow. To just 'be normal' again.

Right. Kenji almost forgot what this was about. Can't feel sorry for her, or anyone else for that matter. If she tried to stand between Kenji and Tokiwa-chan, he would gladly kill her alongside the billions of others the Nurarihyon would slaughter.

Only one life mattered to Kenji Kurosawa.

Kentaro pulled into a convenience store parking lot and declared he needed more cigarettes, and the moment passed. They had a job to do. Sentiment was a luxury they couldn't afford.

"Your call, director," Kentaro said, paying for his cigarettes and a pair of energy drinks. "We heading back to report, or you want to check on the last one? The bike chick?"

Kenji checked his watch. Still early evening. They had time.

"One more."

---

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The diner across from the Fujiwara Senki's headquarters was exactly the kind of place that looked like it hadn't been updated since 1965, and probably never would be. Red vinyl booths with duct tape patches, a checkerboard floor that was more grey than black-and-white, and a menu that featured suspiciously low prices for burgers that were suspiciously large. The kind of place where you either got food poisoning or the best meal of your life, with no middle ground.

Kenji and Kentaro sat in a corner booth, both nursing greasy burgers that fell into the latter category. Through the window, they had a perfect view of the base - a larger building, relatively well-maintained compared to the surrounding architecture, and a lot wider than it was tall. Facing them was the garage, which took up a suprising amount of the ground level of the building, with big rolling doors that could fit a van, and lacking any signs or notable markings.

"The Wild One," Kentaro said around a mouthful of burger. He'd taken off his jacket, revealing a stained white t-shirt underneath. He covered the tattered TV guide with one greasy palm, thinking for several seconds before he continued. "...Laslo Beandick."

"László Benedek," Kenji corrected automatically, wiping ketchup from his chin with a napkin. "And that's too easy. Hungarian-born director, famous for making Marlon Brando into a motorcycle icon... God I love The Godfather... His next film was Bengal Brigade, which was forgettable. Then Kinder, Mütter und ein General, that one's interesting, actually, he returned to Europe to make it-"

"Okay, okay, I get it. You're a fucking encyclopedia. You should be happy I remembered any part of that gaijin-ass name." Kentaro took another bite. "How do you even remember all this shit?"

"It's what I do." Kenji sipped his water, eyes never leaving the garage. Movement inside - shadows moving past the windows, the sound of power tools occasionally audible even from across the street. "Like how you apparently remember every fight you've ever been in."

"That's different. That's useful."

"So is this! What if I needed to defend myself and all I had was a Colt AR-15? Scarface has got me covered."

Across the street, the garage door began rolling up before Kentaro could call Kenji a retard for the fourth time today. Fumiko emerged, wiping her hands on an already oil-stained rag. She was wearing coveralls tied at the waist, the sleeves of her undershirt rolled up to reveal arms corded with lean muscle. Her red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she had a cigarette dangling from her lips, which she quickly lit.

She looked tired. But more than that, she looked frustrated - the kind of guttural annoyance that came from dealing with something that refused to work right no matter how much you cursed at it. Like a boom mic after your idiot sound guy drops it (fucking Archie, worst 3000 yen ever spent).

Behind her, someone else emerged from the garage. Kenji zoomed in with his camera - someone he didn't recognize. A girl, long black hair and formal posture... wearing a maid uniform. Kentaro instantly perked up, leaning forward and pawing for the camera so he could zoom in. Kenji growled, snatching the device away forcefully before turning his attention back to the girls.

The maid said something to Fumiko that made the mechanic snort, then shake her head. They talked for a few more minutes before the maid headed off down the street, heels clicking on pavement.

Fumiko watched her go, took a long drag on her cigarette, then turned back into the garage.

"Damn, I hoped she was done." Kentaro flagged down the waitress, a woman in her fifties who looked like she'd seen everything twice. "Can we get some pie? Whatever you've got."

"Apple or cherry?"

"Both."

Kenji shot him a look. "We're supposed to be on surveillance."

"And I'm fuckin' hungry. We've been at this shit all day and I've only had a Lipovitan and a pack of cigarettes. One burger ain't gonna cut it." Kentaro leaned back, arms spread across the back of the booth. "Besides, she's not going anywhere soon. Look."

He was right. Through the cracked garage door, they could see Fumiko moving around inside, grabbing tools, repositioning what looked like a motorcycle engine on a workbench. She was settling in for a long night.

The pie arrived - two generous slices, one of each flavor. Kentaro immediately dug into the apple, while Kenji picked at the cherry with his fork, still watching the garage.

"You know," Kentaro said conversationally, "Itsuro mentioned something about breaking in and bugging the place. Maybe stealing some parts to make it look like normal thievery."

"Itsuro said that?" Kenji frowned. That seemed risky and completely out of character. "When? And did Rin give us any bugs to plant?"

"Uh... before we left. Said if we got the chance, we should fuck with their operations a little. Nothing obvious, y'know, just enough to make them paranoid..." Kentaro finished his slice and started on the cherry. "...Plus, I could use some parts for my bike. Brake pads are shot to hell."

There it was - no way in hell Itsuro actually said shit about stealing from the targets they were supposed to have as little contact as possible with. Kenji considered this. Breaking and entering was a crime, obviously. But they were already stalking people and planning to potentially betray all of humanity to an ancient yokai, so the moral scales were pretty heavily tipped already. Plus they might find something actually useful in there - supernatural artifacts, a Tamagotchi (Rin told them about that Aida guy handing them out like candy so it wouldn't be too farfetched), maybe even some incriminating documents from the Student Council or confiscated notes from the dissolved Census Club.

"After she leaves," he decided. "We wait until the garage is empty, then we go in quick. Ten minutes, max. You grab parts, I'll look for anything that confirms they're Awakened."

"Now you're thinking like a criminal." Kentaro grinned. "I'm a bad influence on you, Kurosawa."

"Yeah, you're a regular Tyler Durden..."

They finished their pie and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip because the food had genuinely been good. Well, Kenji left a tip, and paid the bill. There goes the budget for the next Zombible movie...

It took another hour of waiting before Fumiko finally emerged from the garage around 9 PM, covered in even more grease than before, looking exhausted. She locked up with a heavy padlock, tested it twice, then climbed onto her motorcycle - a beast of a machine judging by how Kentaro stared at it - and roared off into the night.

Kenji and Kentaro waited five more minutes, just to be sure, then crossed the street.

The padlock was heavy-duty, but the lock itself was old. Kenji had learned lockpicking from a heist movie - Rififi, 1955, Jules Dassin - and while movie lockpicking was notoriously unrealistic, the basic principles were sound. It took him about ten minutes of careful (read: amateurish and fumbling) work with a tension wrench and pick, both of which he'd bought online after watching the film for the seventeenth time.

Click.

"Finally, you actually did it." Kentaro looked very bored, but there was genuine surprise in his expression. "I was this close to just kicking the thing off."

"'ThAt's DifFerEnT. ThAt's uSeFul.'" Kenji repeated Kentaro's earlier comment about movies in a mocking tone, before carefully removing the padlock and slowly pulling the garage door up—just enough for them to slip under. "Come on. Clock's ticking."

Inside, the garage was exactly what you'd expect from a delinquent gang's hideout. Motorcycles in various states of disassembly, tools everywhere, posters of bikes and rock bands on the walls, and—interestingly—a corner set up like a small living space, with a beaten-up couch, a hot plate, and a mini-fridge covered in band stickers.

Kentaro immediately went for the motorcycles, assessing what parts he could take without being too obvious. "She's got some good shit here. This is a '97 Suzuki GSX-R, these brake pads alone would run me 15,000 yen new..."

Kenji, meanwhile, was looking for evidence. He moved quickly through the space, camera in hand, documenting everything. The workbenches, the tool organization, the—

He stopped.

On one of the workbenches, partially hidden under a dirty rag, was a map. Kenji rushed over, an expression of pure horror on his face.

"Oh my god!"

He threw the rag off the table and brushed the map to the side, grabbing a VHS that was just lying there on the greasy, nasty workbench. He read the title, praying it was something terribly like anything made by Ron Underwood other than Tremors.

"Holy shit, she just left Django, out of the case, on this nasty ass workbench! And it's a japanese dub, do you know how hard those are to get?!"

Kenji clutched the 1966 classic to his chest, fearful for its integrity. Kentaro, clearly annoyed, ambled over, arms so full of motorcycle parts it looked comedic.

"We're not here to take their shitty movies, Kurosawa." Kentaro said, hypocritcally. "Now keep looking-"

He paused, seeing the discarded map. Kenji followed, carefully spreading it across the bench. It was a map of Kageoka, but marked up extensively. Red circles in certain areas. Blue X's in others. And written in the margins, in what he assumed was Fumiko's handwriting:

'Bleeding Zone - Sakura District, near old factory'

'Meeting with DP tmr - Metro tunnels, Line 7'

'Safe house - Forbidden District 3, above old convenience store'

"Well, shit." Kentaro said. "That's pretty damn conclusive. I was hoping the hot one wasn't in on this..."

"They're definitely Awakened. All of them." Kenji took several photos of the map, making sure to get clear shots of the annotations. "They're tracking Bleeding Zones, planning safe routes, establishing fallback positions... this is organized as shit... Like, the full plan they reveal at the end of a heist movie or something, after they, y'kno, already did everything... Are delinquents usually this orderly? I haven't seen any in movies besides, like, the characters in that new Battle Royale flick."

"...No. Most delinquents are poser pieces of shit that just want to take lunch money from nerds like you. This is what you see from guys lookin' to join the Yakuza when they're grown up. Makes them more dangerous." Kentaro stuffed the parts into a duffel bag - wait, where the fuck did he get a duffel bag from!? "But also more predictable. If we know their patterns-"

A sound outside. Footsteps.

Both of them froze.

The footsteps came closer, then stopped right outside the garage door. A moment of silence, then a female voice called out.

"Fumiko? You forget something?"

Kenji and Kentaro looked at each other, the former audibly gulping. The voice was coming from the side door, the one that led to what looked like the actual first floor. If whoever it was came in that way, they'd see them immediately.

"Window," Kentaro hissed, already moving. There was a small window high up on the back wall, probably used for ventilation. Kentaro boosted Kenji up first, the director having to squeeze through the narrow opening with his camera and the Django VHS, falling to the ground and barely moving out of the way before Kentaro's duffel falls in the same spot. Then Kentaro jumped, grabbed the windowsill, and hauled himself up with impressive upper body strength.

They dropped into the alley behind the garage just as they heard the side door opening.

"-could have sworn I heard something..." The voice faded as they ran.

Kenji didn't know who the voice belonged to, or how they didn't hear his cartoon-ass sound effects as he tried to move with the duffel. Maybe they did and just weren't pursuing - it didn't really matter at this point. They just sprinted - Kentaro snagging the duffel and still keeping ahead of Kenji. The pair didn't stop until they were three blocks away, both breathing hard. Kentaro set down the duffel bag and checked its contents, making sure nothing had been damaged in their hasty exit. Kenji reviewed his photos, confirming the map images were clear.

"That was close," Kentaro said, pulling out yet another cigarette. His hands were shaking slightly - adrenaline. "Who do you think that was?"

"Couldn't tell. M-maybe the maid came back? Or, uh... Momo? Maybe?" Kenji downloaded the photos from his camera to a backup drive, just in case. "But we got what we needed. Boom. We're done." He paused. "Wait. We should have taken the map."

"Too risky. If it goes missing, they know someone was there."

"You stole, like, tens of thousands of Yen in parts, minimum. I think they'll notice someone was there!"

Kentaro shrugged. "So we act fast. We've got enough for Itsuro. Let's report back and figure out the next move."

As they walked back to where Kentaro had parked his motorcycle, Kenji found himself thinking about what they'd seen. The Fujiwara Senki weren't just some random gang of delinquents who happened to be Awakened. They were organized, professional, tracking Bleeding Zones and planning their movements with strategic precision. Whether the information was gathered on their own or came from the Student Council didn't matter.

They were exactly the kind of people who could be a serious problem for the HLA.

"Hey, Kurosawa." Kentaro had stopped, looking back at the direction they'd come from. "That map. One of those marks was in the metro tunnels, right? Line 7?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"That's Pygmie territory." Kentaro paused, and when he noticed the look of confusion on Kenji's face, continued in an exasperated tone. "Denim Pygmies. Another gang. Group of midgets, I fucked with 'em a couple months ago."

"So?" Kenji clearly didn't see the importance of whatever Kentaro was getting at.

"So - 'Meeting with DP'? Denim Pygmies? They're meeting up with fuckers that just stabbed a guy who fuckin' died in the hospital. Probably gonna try and beat their asses. We can steamroll in there and fuck them up while they're weak!"

"...How do you know they stabbed a guy? And we got what we wanted - we know they're Awakened. We're done, and any more shit will make Itsuro want to kill us-"

"You think he isn't already gonna be on our asses? After getting seen by Fukuzawa? When he finds out about that, our asses are fucked anyways. no lube - unless we can get something good. Like knowing what the Fujiwara Senki's Idolons actually do. Or, hell, killing them while we have the chance."

Kenji frowned. Definitely misread Kentaro's character. The guy was supposed to be a dumb, ugly brute. Not a manipulator. Learn to stick to your archetype!

Fuck.

FUCK!

"...You're right. It's your fault we're in this mess in the first place, but you're right. We gotta get something more. These guys were already at the top of our lists, just coming in with 'they're Awakened' isn't gonna mean much... And we don't even know if Itsuki is confirmed yet..."

Where the hell was Itsuki? He was with the Senki still, wasn't he? Did he leave recently? And if he did, where the hell did he end up?

Kentaro smirked, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder and completing the 'violent thief' look he had going on as he spoke.

"That's right. Now, I don't really give a shit if that twig wants to fuck with me - but you? C'mon, he'd play mind games with you that would make
Hannibal Lecter look like a fuckin' saint."

"W-when the hell did you watch Silence of the Lambs?! And how come I wasn't invited!?"

Kentaro sighed, mounting his motorcycle, the clanging sound of metal echoing from his bag as he did so.

"We're going to that meeting. Worst case scenario, they think the Pygmies hired some muscle and betrayed them. Best case? The Student Council loses their strongest allies."

Kentaro turned the ignition, the bike flaring to life. He revved it twice, tires squealing as he called out once more.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, Spielberg! Don't be late!"

He peeled off, leaving Kenji alone in the parking lot. The director sighed, slowly walking down the street towards his home.

He wouldn't get blamed for this, right? Itsuro should have known something like this would have happened when he assigned Kenji and Kentaro together. God, Kenji hated when actors ad libbed their scripts... At least, hated it when it fucked up the plot like this.

The air smelled of mold and smoke as he walked. Everywhere in this district had that smell. The scent of urban decay and abandonment.

...At the very least, the set design worked for this scene.

Kenji lightly rubbed the camera hanging around his neck. A nervous tick. It beeped in response, a quick pattern that was unintelligible to most.

"I know. I thought we were getting closer, but I guess even I can misread character relationships..."

Another string of beeps. Like R2D2. Man, Star Wars was good. At least before fucking Phantom Menace, what a letdown.

"What? No, we're gonna go. Even if he's a prick, he's right - this is the perfect chance to put the Fujiwara Senki down. They're our second biggest threat, right behind the Council."

Again, the beeps rang out. Kenji paused. A few seconds passed before he looked down at his camera, and read the text boldly printed on the display.

'Will you kill them? If you get the chance?'

No emoticons. That was unusual. Kenji closed the side display, staring up at the downcast sky. He stood there for a few more seconds, before a light chuckle overcame him.

"Heh... Man, you always know how to cheer me up, Tokiwa-chan..."

What a silly question.

She should already know the answer to that.

---

---

---

"...You sure this is the right script? Going down there seems like we're asking for trouble."

Kenji glanced nervously down the stairs that led into the abandoned subway tunnels of the Forbidden Districts. They'd been sectioned off from the main metro system for years now, left to rot alongside the rest of the abandoned zones. The city had officially condemned them after the last major earthquake, citing structural instability and water damage. Unofficially, everyone knew they'd become a haven for the city's criminal element - a neutral ground where gangs could meet, deal, and occasionally settle disputes away from police interference.

Flooding, fungus and mold, collapsed tunnels, and god knew what else lurked down there. And yet, despite all the safety violations and dangers, the abandoned subway remained one of the premier locales for Kageoka's more unscrupulous organizations to operate.

The Fujiwara Senki were apparently no different. Kenji and Kentaro had followed the four main members to one of the many entrances, watching as they flicked on flashlights and descended into the darkness below. The fact that all four had shown up suggested this was important.

But where the hell was Itsuki? Wasn't he a part of the group still?

Kentaro turned to face him, his features hidden beneath the motorcycle helmet he wore - his idea of a 'disguise'. It was better than nothing, but considering they'd be going into a dark tunnel, Kenji wondered how long he'd be keeping the visor down. It was also a bit annoying how he refused to wear it while they drove here...

"We have to," Kentaro said, his voice slightly muffled under the helmet. "We got shit evidence otherwise. Some marked-up maps and secondhand observations? Not gonna mean shit when we prep to fight them."

"We don't even have lights," Kenji muttered, adjusting his camera settings to night vision mode. The green-tinted display flickered to life, showing the stairs descending into shadow. His attempt at a disguise was better than Kentaro's - a medical mask, brown wig, and a sweater-khaki combo that made him look like a discount Mister Rogers. Combined with colored contacts and no glasses, and it'd be impossible to pin his identity down in the tunnels.

"Would reveal our position. Better to just follow theirs from a distance." Kentaro started down the stairs, then paused and looked back. "Besides, your camera probably has night vision, right? Like in that found-footage film you won't shut up about."

Kenji bristled immediately. "The Blair Witch Project is a masterpiece of psychological horror and the future of the entire genre! The low-fidelity aesthetic creates an atmosphere of authenticity that traditional horror can't match, and the improvised dialogue-"

"Yeah, yeah, it's kino or whatever. Does the camera have night vision or not?"

"...Yes."

"Then quit bitching and let's go."

They descended into the abandoned metro station, the temperature dropping noticeably as they left the street level behind. The air grew damp and stale, carrying the faint smell of mildew and something organic and unpleasant. A few flickering emergency lights, illegally tapped into whatever vestigial power grid still existed in this part of the city, provided just enough illumination to see the general shape of the tunnels - but little else. Kentaro allowed Kenji to take the lead, peeking over his shoulder to see through the camera and keep his footing.

The walls were covered in graffiti. Gang tags, territorial markers, the occasional attempt at art. Kenji gave it little more than a cursory glance. He could freehand something better than these guys could manage with stencils. Water dripped from cracks in the ceiling, forming puddles that reflected the dim lights like dark mirrors. Kenji kept his camera up, filming their descent, partly for documentation and partly because seeing the world through the viewfinder made it feel more concrete to him than looking at it with his own eyes.

In the distance, the flashlights of the Fujiwara Senki bobbed like will-o'-wisps, their voices echoing faintly through the tunnels.

Kentaro held his hand against the wall as they walked, using it for guidance and stability in the darkness. Each step was deliberate, careful to avoid making noise on the slick, cracked concrete. Kenji, meanwhile, walked along one of the old rails, balancing like a kid on the edge of a sidewalk. Kentaro glared at the director, but Kenji never slipped and revealed their position.

"What are they saying?" Kentaro whispered, barely audible even standing right next to Kenji.

Kenji shushed the delinquent, focusing. Ever since Awakening to Tokiwa-chan his hearing was better than most - but even when focusing, he could barely make out the conversation ahead.

"Something about... territory disputes? Maybe mediation?" Kenji adjusted his camera's audio settings, trying to catch more. "Can't make it all out. Too much echo."

They continued following the lights ahead, maintaining careful distance. The conversation drifted in and out, but nothing that was particularly clear. Kenji was starting to wonder if this trip would prove worthwhile when the Fujiwara Senki suddenly stopped.

Kenji and Kentaro froze in place, pressing themselves against the tunnel wall.

Ahead, the tunnel opened into a wider space - a junction point where multiple tunnels converged into a larger chamber. The end of one tunnel was blocked by rubble, debris from some long-ago collapse. In front of the rubble was a massive sinkhole filled with stagnant water, the fetid stench suddenly much stronger.

And standing in that wider space, illuminated by the Senki's flashlights, was a group of about seven or eight men. All short, nobody taller than maybe 160 centimeters, and dressed in matching denim jackets with a pig emblem on the back.

Kenji raised his camera, zooming in. At the front of the group stood a muscular young man in surprisingly expensive-looking clothes - dress shirt, slacks, a fedora, the works. His face was set in an arrogant sneer, and even from this distance, Kenji could feel the hostile energy radiating off him.

Kentaro leaned in close to Kenji's ear, his voice barely a whisper. "Denim Pygmies. Their boss is Ryo Sawada - the little mafia lookin fuck up front. Few months back, the Gator Teeth hired me to raid one of their hideouts. Promised me a crate of whisky for it."

"And?" Kenji kept filming, tracking the scene.

"One of the Gators, Yuki something - the guy that croaked - set the whole fuckin' place on fire during the raid. Pygmies scattered like roaches the second they heard sirens." Kentaro's voice carried an edge of old frustration. "Didn't get to fight a single one of 'em. Had to beat the shit out of the Gators afterwards just to work off the disappointment... Good whisky though."

Momo stepped forward from the Senki's group, her bokken already in hand. Even from this distance, Kenji could see the tension in her shoulders. "We're here. Now tell us - why the hell did you break the deal with the Gator Teeth? We mediated, divided territories, established peace, and you shattered it a few weeks later. Why?"

Ryo Sawada crossed his arms, his expensive clothes catching the flashlight beams. "Really? You expect us to tolerate those tall assholes walking around acting like they own the place? Protection rackets, harassment, arson... They're pricks! I bet you could pick any random fucker off the streets of their territory and they won't have one good thing to say about 'em."

"That's not the point-" Momo started.

"The point is you're looking down on us!" Ryo's voice rose, echoing through the tunnels. "You KNOW the Gators are the real problem here, but you don't care! You bitches only care about tall alpha chads! It's always the same - height privilege, pretty boy privilege, we're sick of it!"

"...What?" Momo's confusion was evident even from a distance. "Alpha? What are you even - listen, we didn't favor anyone. I barely talked to Yuki-san, and he was the only Gator I even knew-"

"Shut up! We're smarter than you think, don't even try to lie!" Ryo was working himself into a frenzy now, his gang members feeding off his energy. "The Pygmies are done being punching bags! We're done being STEPPED ON! Boys - let's fuck them up and show the Senki we're not screwing around anymore!"

The gang members roared and rushed forward.

What followed was less a fight and more a brutal beatdown. The Denim Pygmies were numerous and physically strong, but they lacked any real cooperation or tactics - little more than a pack of wild animals relying on numerical superiority and intimidation. The Fujiwara Senki, on the other hand, moved with the kind of practiced coordination that spoke to real combat experience.

Momo stayed in the lead, her bokken a blur as she struck with precision. Carefully measured strikes, incapacitating the goons without killing them. Dawn was a ghost, her slight frame moving between attackers with fluid grace, redirecting momentum and using the gang members' own force against them as she tripped and parried strikes.

Parfaite surprised Kenji by being far more capable than her delicate appearance suggested. Crisp, efficient strikes that exploited weak points and dropped opponents without wasted movement. Her form was textbook, like she'd studied from a manual. She put down three goons all on her own, each more quickly than the last. Fumiko, meanwhile, was more reminiscent of Kentaro - she didn't bother with fancy technique, just raw aggressive fighting that sent Pygmy members sprawling. A punch to the solar plexus, a leg sweep, an elbow to the temple.

Within two minutes, all of the Denim Pygmies were on the ground, groaning. One had a broken nose. Another was cradling what looked like a dislocated shoulder. A third was face-down in a puddle, unconscious.

Only Ryo remained standing, backed against the tunnel wall, clutching one arm with a grimace on his face. His expensive clothes were torn and dirty, blood trickling from a split lip.

"You... you bitches..." he panted. "You think this is over?"

Momo approached, lowering her bokken. "It looks over to me. Stand down. I don't want anyone hospitalized. I don't want this to end like it did with Hajime."

Ryo's expression twisted into something ugly - grief, for an instant, before something darker took over. Ryo sneered with vindictive satisfaction. "You heard about that? Good. Yuki Hajime dying in that hospital bed was exactly what he fucking deserved. Tall piece of shit thought he was better than everyone, burnt down our base..."

"He had a little sister-" Momo started, something dangerous entering her voice.

"Who's better off without him! Just like the world's better off without all you- you fucking-" He stopped, his good hand fumbling in his jacket pocket. When it emerged, he was holding something small and plastic.

A Tamagotchi. Just like Kohaku's.

Kenji's breath caught, and beside him, Kentaro tensed.

Ryo laughed, the sound slightly manic. "See this? You thought you had numbers, but that don't mean SHIT! You're gonna see something really cool now!" He tossed the device in the air, caught it dramatically, and pressed the central button with his thumb.

"HENSHIN, BITCH!!!"

The world rippled.

Kenji had been Awakened for over three years. He had entered and experienced Bleeding and Flooding Zones before. But the sensation of one being established with you in the epicenter... It was something he had only experienced in his encounter with Kohaku previously. The sensation was deeply unpleasant, like pressure equalizing in his ears but throughout his entire body. Was this what a Garganta was like? If so, he hoped he wouldn't have to join Rin in one anytime soon.

The tunnel changed. The walls took on a strange, iridescent quality, like oil on water. The stagnant pool bubbled slightly before stilling once more. The emergency lights flickered, their glow becoming harsh and red. And the temperature dropped another ten degrees in an instant.

Ryo was transforming.

His body erupted with crimson chitin, plates of insect-like armor forming across his skin. His spine lengthened and bent, giving him a hunched, aggressive posture. From his wrists emerged three stinger-like drills, crackling with electricity. More stingers burst from his shoulders, creating makeshift pauldrons. His outfit integrated into the transformation, morphing into a tattered school uniform, covered with a dozen beetle-shaped badges that began to crawl independently across his form.

The final touch was his face - or rather, the wasp-like mask that covered it. Compound eyes, mandibles, and two long antennae that flapped in the air despite there being no wind.

When the transformation completed, Ryo stood there in his Idolon form, electricity arcing between his stingers, his insectile minions skittering around his feet.

He was undeniably intimidating... Or at least he would be if he was taller. He'd gained maybe four centimeters of height, putting him at a whopping 157.

"BEHOLD!" His voice was echoing now, a buzzing undertone from his Idolon's influence that distorted it just slightly. "KILOWASP! THE TRUE KING OF THE UNDERGROUND! Soon even the police and Yakuza will have to realize that short kings are in charge now! We'll take over the Forbidden Districts, then Fujiwara Ward, then all of-"

His monologue was cut short as the four members of the Fujiwara Senki transformed in near-perfect synchronization.

Momo's form erupted in a whirlwind of crimson and gold, her silhouette expanding as [Simply Red] materialized behind her - a massive red oni, muscular limbs easily lifting the huge kanabo slung across her shoulders. Dawn's transformation was subtler, her form encased in silvery armor that gleamed even in the dim light, a knight with an ornate sword. Parfaite's transformation was the most unsettling. Her limbs split at the shoulders, bisecting and forming multiple arms until she was spider-like. Then her head was pulled free from the neck, suspended by two arms grabbing each side, floating there with an eerie calm.

Fumiko's Idolon was the most visually impressive though. Brute Cannon rose up behind her from the ground, a towering mecha that nearly brushed the ceiling, bristling with weapons and armor plating. It moved with surprising agility for something so large, metal feet grinding against the tunnel floor. It opened in the center, exposing a cockpit that Fumiko quickly clambered into.

Ryo - or, rather, Kilowasp - took a step back, his earlier bravado evaporating. He was visibly smaller than [Simply Red]'s shoulder. His minions scattered, moving around him defensively like bees protecting their queen.

"W-wait- I didn't... Y-You're all-" He was clearly reassessing his life choices.

"Now's our time, Spielberg." Kentaro hissed.

Kenji had been so focused on filming that he'd almost forgotten they were supposed to be participating. He stared ahead at the scene, eyes narrowing. Four Idolons versus One - Three, if Kenji and Kentaro decided to join in. That mad them the undredogs. Good - underdogs always came out on top. The Denim Pygmies had been pathetic, only dealing superficial wounds against the Fujiwara Senki. And considering the entire purpose behind this visit was to attack the Senki while they were weakened from a gang fight, this was just a fight where they were at a disadvantage...

But they needed information on how the group fought, and there was no chance 'Kilowasp' would last long enough to get anything useful. And while recruiting the delinquent properly into the HLA was begging for trouble, having some auxillary assitance could be useful - he could recruit from the rogue awakened populace, delay the Fujiwara Senki... No way in hell he could beat them, but a distraction was all the HLA would need while they hit the Student Council directly.

Kentaro paused, looking at Kenji. For a moment Kenji worried he would rush ahead, just like against Kohaku. But he didn't. He simply stared, face hidden beneath his helmet.

"...Up to you, Kurosawa. We going in?"

Kenji looked ahead, watching as [Simply Red] approached Kilowasp. A burst of static manifested behind Kenji, Tokiwa-chan seemingly crawling out of the 'portal' of static. Her camera-head rotated, multiple lenses focusing on the scene ahead and Kentaro.

Kentaro was already moving, skin darkening as his outfit melted into his flesh. Lines of bright white traced over his skin, molten gold running over polished obsidian. Daikongō lunged forward, clawed hand extending towards the Senki at the other end of the tunnel. He turned to look at Kenji, clearly waiting for similar support like he had during their confrontation with Kohaku.

"What are we- -lookin at, Director? Have a script?" Tokiwa-chan turned her 'head' in Kenji's direction, though it was really just angling a monitor so that he could see what emoticons she was displaying.

"Quick and dirty," Kenji muttered. "Portal next to the bug, Kentaro goes through-"

Fumiko's voice crackled through Brute Cannon's speakers, a mechanical undertone not dissimilar to Tokiwa-chan's speech. "Behind us! Two hostiles, rear flank!"

The warning came half a second before Kentaro moved. A portal ripped open beside Kilowasp - a disorienting blur of black and grey, bleeding static at the edges. Daikongō burst through with blinding speed, his fist already extended in a devastating right straight aimed at Momo's head. A direct attack on the Awakened rather than the Idolon.

[Simply Red] disappeared from sight, before she rematerialized just in time, the oni's massive kanabo swinging up to intercept the strike. The impact sent a shockwave through the tunnel, dust raining down from the ceiling. Daikongō didn't pause - his form flickered, a grayscale monochrome filter washing over him as his body moved faster, like a tape set to fast-forward. His follow-up roundhouse came at superhuman speed, catching [Simply Red] in the side of the head and launching the oni into the tunnel wall with bone-rattling force.

Momo staggered, clutching the side of her head. Blood began to seep between her fingers. Damage feedback from her Idolon - but if her relationship to her Avatar was anything like Kenji's, [Simply Red] suffered much more intense wounds than her Awakened did.

Daikongō immediately moved to press his advantage, but Brute Cannon interposed with its massive frame, arms spread wide to block the tunnel. The mechanical construct was large enough that it could nearly wall off the entire space, creating a barrier between Daikongō and the injured Momo.

Kenji stayed back, kneeling behind cover alongside Tokiwa-chan. Even behind cover she had a better view of the battlefield than anyone else here - a combination of naturally higher scouting abilities and creating miniature 'viewing portals' with a swipe of her clawed hand when she needed a different angle. She was maintaining Kentaro's time acceleration, managing the portals, and preparing to disengage all at the same time. She pointed once at Kenji, swiping her clawed hand through the air in the same motion she made when creating her portals. Nothing manifested, however - instead, a recording light on one of her three cameras lit up, silently blinking a soft red. She repeated the same motion for Daikongō and Kilowasp, all three lights blinking in sync.

Dawn's knight form began to glow with a soft green light, her blade held aloft. That same light washed over Brute Cannon, and suddenly the massive mech was moving faster - rolling backward with grace and speed that should not have been possessed by something so large.

Daikongō threw a heavy punch at Brute Cannon's center mass, but the mech rolled backward faster than should be possible, the blow missing by centimeters. One of its shoulder-mounted cannons rotated toward Daikongō, but Dawn's voice called out.

"No explosives! We'll bring the whole tunnel down!"

That was right. Brute Cannon was at an extreme disadvantage in this environment, and even the strong [Simply Red] and Daikongō had to pull their punches or risk a cave-in. But... that was a lot worse for the Fujiwara Senki than it was for the HLA. With Tokiwa-chan's teleportation and transmutation, they could escape with ease - leaving the Fujiwara Senki to be buried. They'd either die in the cave in, or at the very least be pinned until the bleeding zone ended, leaving them easy prey for Daikongō's attacks.

If he really wanted to, Kentaro could start laying into the walls, force the tunnel to collapse, and escape with Kilowasp. Score a bunch of kills on his way out too, taking out four Awakened without any real fight...

...But that's how losers think.

Daikongō pressed his assault on Brute Cannon, and even with Dawn's enhancement, the tight space (at least, tight for a mecha) worked against the Idolon. Every strike from Daikongō forced Brute Cannon to take a step or two back, or take unnecessary damage. The demon was relentless, trading lacerations and deep cuts from Brute Cannon's claws for devastating counters and extra ground. The wounds seemed to do nothing to slow him down. If anything, the blood loss made him faster. Harder. Stronger.

Three kitchen knives suddenly sailed through the air, thrown with inhuman precision. The first two missed Daikongō by centimeters - feints, forcing him to commit to his movement. The third buried itself firmly in his spine, between his shoulder blades.

"ARGH!!! FUCK!"

La Première - Parfaite's multi-armed Idolon - stood at a distance, more knives already appearing in her numerous hands. The knife in Daikongō's back didn't look very dangerous, at least not compared to Brute Cannon's claws. But Fumiko and Kenji, with their enhanced scouting abilities, could see the effect immediately.

The knife was draining his strength. A vector through which La Première's Definement took hold.

[Simply Red] exploded back into the fight, the oni launched forward with impossible speed - enhanced by both Dawn's time acceleration and her Enhancement. The red demon's kanabo became a blur, strikes coming so fast they were nearly imperceptible even through Kenji's camera. The sound was deafening - each impact echoing like a taiko drum in the enclosed space, the reverberations physically painful and knocking sheets of dust from the ceiling. Didn't she hear her teammate yell earlier about not letting the tunnel collapse?

Daikongō was launched backward, slamming into Brute Cannon who had positioned herself perfectly for a counter. The mech's massive fist shot forward like a piledriver, catching Daikongō in a crushing blow that sent him flying back toward [Simply Red] like a pinball.

The oni wound up for a home-run swing.

"Tokiwa-chan!" Kenji called out.

"On it~!"

A portal snapped open directly in Daikongō's flight path. For an instant, he was at the edge of the Bleeding Zone, flying past where Kenji stood behind rubble at the chamber's edge. Kenji's hand shot out and grabbed the knife's handle as Daikongō flew past. The demon's momentum did the rest of the work, pulling the blade free without any effort on Kenji's part.

"Behind!"

Kenji's barely spoke before a second portal opened a few meters behind [Simply Red]. Daikongō flew through it, his strength rapidly returning. He twisted in mid-air, converting his momentum into a flying kick that caught [Simply Red] square in the back. The massive oni stumbled forward, and Daikongō didn't give her time to recover. Two jabs and a crushing right straight before she could turn around.

[Simply Red] twisted with the final blow, her massive frame spinning to face her attacker. The kanabo came around in a defensive arc - not a real strike, but a parry. The wooden weapon caught Daikongō 's follow-up punch, redirecting the force harmlessly past her shoulder. For a fraction of a second, the contact allowed [Simply Red] to absorb his momentum, the oni's muscles visibly swelling as she converted his attack into power for her counter.

But Daikongō was already moving, his greyscale form flickering as the haste effect kept him half a step ahead. [Simply Red]'s counter-swing met empty air. Daikongō smirked... before his face was cut by a hundred invisible knives. He clutched at it, reeling backwards. That attack clearly missed - how did-

Before Kenji or Kentaro could question it, [Simply Red] was capitalizing on the opening. A strike to the jaw, another an instant later in the stomach - from a completely different angle. Each strike stunned Daikongō for another moment, allowing [Simply Red] to chain them one after another in a flurry. Pushing him back two or thee steps with each hit. Head, shoulder, thigh, stomach, chest-

[Simply Red] swung once more, a shot aimed directly at Daikongō's throat. Before the attack could land, he fell - down, into the portal that was ripped beneath his feet. He reappeared in his starting position before the combo, a dozen meters behind [Simply Red], the Oni whirling on her feet to retaliate against the demon. Daikongō shaked his head, blood flying from open wounds onto the ground. Like a wet dog shaking off water. He lightly touched his chest, looking down to see the patchwork of flesh that was damaged or torn off.

Cuts. Those were expected with the Kanabo's spikes, but there were cuts in locations that [Simply Red] never struck. Light, barely marring his thick obsidian skin. But they were there.

"Wind..." Kentaro muttered, Daikongō's voice deep and gutteral.

[Simply Red] raced to close the distance, Kanabo gripped tight and ready to swing. Daikongō seemed lost in thought as he stared at his bloody hand. But as [Simply Red] got within range and swung the metal implement, Daikongō leaned in, almost diving forward. The kanabo swung clear over his head, and Daikongō closed the distance in an instant, fist closed and delivering a powerful upper cut directly into [Simply Red]'s stomach.

The Oni flew back from the force of the strike, her arm hitting Dawn in the process as she slammed into the Tunnel wall again. Kenji narrowed his eyes as he stared at the camera in his hands, Tokiwa's vision fed to the display. The only attack to land on that girl this entire fight, and it wasn't even intentional...

"Not bad, not bad at all, Red. Kind of fucked me up there, not gonna lie... Might even have died by now, if I didn't need all this fuckin blood... I like your style, but there's an issue with using such a big weapon. It gives you reach, yeah, but swinging a massive chunk of iron like that means you need at least enough space to clear the handle."

Daikongō cracked his neck, sounding more akin to the bones breaking than anything else. The wounds covering Daikongō's body - the lacerations from Brute Cannon, the bleeding hole where the knife had been, the deep bruises from [Simply Red]'s kanabo -they weren't slowing him down at all. He was moving faster and hitting harder than he was when the fight started, even though he looked like an old chew toy.

Daikongō raised his hands into a boxer's stance. It didn't look trained or refined in any way. It was the brutal style that one develops through many, MANY hard fights on the street, not in a ring with rules and regulations.

"How you gonna stop me from in-fighting, huh? Ditch the weapon, go all in on Wind? Try and outpace me, keep me from getting too close? Maybe you can use the air from your swings to hit me from afar, but don't spam that too much or I'll get pissed... Or do you got some other trick up your sleeve?"

"He's a berserker type!" Fumiko called out, voice slightly distorted from Brute Cannons speakers. "Like Nejima-san! The more we hurt him, the stronger he gets! We need to finish this quickly or retreat!"

"Can't retreat," Momo growled, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. "Those unconscious Pygmies - if we leave them, this place becomes a death trap. The black one will kill them, or Kilowasp zaps 'em on accident like a dumbass..."

"EXCUSE ME, I'M RIGHT HERE!" Ryo's voice cracked slightly. His beetle minions had been largely forgotten in the chaos, skittering around the edges of the fight. Occasionally they buzzed, a small burst of electricity arcing between two or three in a chain of lightning. "And I'M in charge! I'M the one-"

A massive gust of wind from [Simply Red] sent half his minions tumbling into the fetid pool, a burst of electricity shooting from the sinkhole before several of the minions float to the surface, upside-down and lifeless. Kilowasp yelped and scrambled backward, flinging lightning strikes as he did so - one nearly hit Dawn, but even injured from [Simply Red]'s collision, she evaded it with a preternatural ease. Like she knew where it would land before it was shot.

The fight continued, growing more chaotic. La Première threw knives in complex patterns, each blade tracking a different target—some aimed at Daikongō to drain his strength, others bouncing off the walls of the tunnel to hit Tokiwa-chan behind her cover and disrupt her portals. But Tokiwa-chan was too mobile, her form flickering around attacks like poorly maintained film, appearing on one side of the chamber alongside Kenji before the pair snapped to the other as she maintained the haste effect on Kentaro.

Brute Cannon got another solid hit in, its massive claw raking across Daikongō's chest and drawing deep furrows - or, rather, the claws entered his skin before Daikongō flickered in a burst of static, appearing several meters behind Brute Cannon. He was stunned for a second, more from the sudden shift in position than anything Brute Cannon had done, but he moved to press the advantage, a powerful kick to the back of Brute Cannon's leg sending the mecha sprawling to the floor. In the distance, one of the three blinking lights on Tokiwa-chan's head flickered off, its contingent effect activated.

Dawn engaged Kilowasp directly, the knight closing the distance in seconds as the glowing green aura covered her body. Kilowasp's electrical stingers crackled, but Dawn's speed and perception was far beyond his aim - she evaded each strike with ease, her rapid approach only making Kilowasp's blindfiring more erratic. She moved to strike with her sword, parrying the stingers and landing blow after blow against the delinquent - each hit was weak and barely bit through his chitin armor, but were coming in a rapid flurry, a dozen hits a second in a dance that Kilowasp couldn't parry or evade.

"This isn't fair!" Ryo whined, his voice losing its earlier bravado. "You're all cheating! That's-that's not how this is supposed to work!"

"Combat rarely is fair," Dawn replied calmly, her blade slicing through one of his shoulder stingers, the appendage falling to the floor and discharging impotently on the ground. Kilowasp fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder as green blood oozed from it in rivets. Dawn pointed the tip of her blade at his throat, and the delinquent balked. "Perhaps you should have considered that before-"

"WATERWORLD!"

Daikongō's voice ripped through the tunnel, deep and piercing. An instant later, every Awakened nearby tensed and guarded themselves, prepared to withstand whatever attack or special move was coming. Even Ryo didn't bother moving from Dawn's sword point.

One second. Two.

Three seconds passed. Nothing happened.

The Fujiwara Senki resumed their assault, Brute Cannon rolling forward while [Simply Red] rushed from the front and La Première prepared another volley of knives.

Five seconds.

"Kevin Reynolds," Kenji muttered under his breath, the only person who understood the command.

A ripping sound, followed by the hissing, crackling static that accompanied every portal. Above the battlefield, a massive portal opened, larger than a bus. The stagnant pool at the end of the tunnel began draining into the paired portal at the bottom of the sinkhole, pouring out like a waterfall from the portal above the Idolons.

Water exploded downward like a burst dam, tons of fetid, stagnant liquid pouring into the chamber. A third portal opened directly beneath Daikongō, and Kenji saw him drop through it, landing next to the director on the far side of the chamber. That portal closed an instant before the water reached it, a fourth one - this time horizontal - appearing right behind Kilowasp. Daikongō's muscular arm reached through, grabbed the insect-themed Idolon in a chokehold, and dragged him backward through the portal, Tokiwa-chan closing it before Dawn could pursue or retaliate.

The deluge crashed down on Brute Cannon and [Simply Red]. The massive mech was suprisingly quick, especially with Dawn's support, but evading all the water with such a large body was impossible. [Simply Red] tried to leap away but the remaining minions blocked her path, using their bodies as living barriers, their electrical stingers shocking her and forcing her back into the water.

La Première managed to avoid the worst of it, her multi-armed form scrambling backward with spider-like agility - she had already been the furthest from the battle, allowing her to escape with only a stained dress and wet legs. Dawn backpedaled frantically, her eyes widening as she saw what was coming next.

"FUMIKO! MOMO! MOVE—"

"NOW, BUG BITCH!" Daikongō's arm tightened around Kilowasp's throat, jabbing the insect in the side. "BLAST 'EM!"

Ryo, panicked and hurting and clearly not thinking straight, obeyed. His stingers erupted with electrical discharge - a massive bolt that shot forward through the portal and into the pool of water now flooding the tunnel floor. It struck with ease, the few remaining minions launching their own smaller discharges at Brute Cannon and [Simply Red].

Electricity doesn't just travel through water. It spreads through it, following the path of least resistance, which in this case was every conductive surface in the contaminated liquid. Brute Cannon was standing in ankle-deep water. [Simply Red] was trying to maintain her footing in more.

The sound that came from Brute Cannon's speakers was an inhuman roar, a synthesized screech like a VCR eating a tape. Momo's own scream was more restrained, the feedback from [Simply Red] causing every nerve to fire at once - only her pride and will kept her from crying out from the pain.

[Simply Red] collapsed to her knees, her kanabo the only thing keeping her from falling completely into the pool, small bursts of electricity shooting off of her body. Brute Cannon's joints locked up, sparks flying from its mechanical components, and a small fire started where wiring had been exposed from one of Daikongō's attacks.

Daikongō stepped through another portal, emerging at the dry edge of the chamber, still holding the struggling Kilowasp. He tossed the insect Idolon aside like a bag of trash, the insect crashing into the wall head first. Daikongō held his arms out wide in a victorious pose, his wounds healing slightly from the act of sadism.

"Heh... HeheHAHAHA!! Check that shit out!" He kicked the fallen form of Brute Cannon, the mech sliding across the water and pinning La Première against the tunnel wall. Parfaite grunted, her multiple arms straining to push the heavy construct aside.

Dawn activated her Definement ability - Kenji could see the effect taking hold, a dark aura surrounding Daikongō, attempting to sap his strength and weaken his attacks. But it was too late to make a significant difference. Daikongō was already approaching the knight, fists balled and a manic look in his eye. He walked through the pool with reckless abandon, uncaring as the residual voltage coursed through his horrifically wounded body. As he passed the stunned idolon, [Simply Red] reached out and grabbed his ankle, arresting his movement.

Even after taking so much damage, she was still trying to protect her friends. Daikongō looked down at her, watching as the limb she grabbed tensed under her strength. There's a small creaking sound, before he can feel the bone in his ankle begin to fracture.

The smirk on his face is quickly replaced with a scowl. He raised his free leg, clearly preparing to stomp her head into the ground-

A loud beeping echoed through the chamber, emanating from Kilowasp's fallen form.

"What the-" Ryo's distorted voice was confused. "How the hell is this thing out of charge already!?"

Kilowasp scrambled, retrieving the Tamagotchi from his pocket. It was heavily damaged, either from Dawn's slashes or Daikongō's throw, and was rapidly losing power. The Bleeding Zone began to collapse. The walls lost their iridescent quality, the water stopped crackling with residual electricity, the oppressive atmosphere began to lift.

Daikongō sighed, his raised leg slamming down on [Simply Red]'s wrist until she releases her grip.

"Damn. Looks like we're out of time." He looked down at [Simply Red], something almost resembling respect in his burning eyes. "You were fun, Red. Not sure I can say the same about your flunkies, but... whatever." He kicked the oni in the stomach - not particularly hard, just enough to send her rolling a few feet away. He winced slightly - probably should have used the uninjured leg...

"Next time bring Jinko-san, got it? Want to see how he handles a real fight, not some Looney Toons shit."

Daikongō turned and began walking toward where Kenji stood, stepping through a portal Tokiwa-chan opened for them. As the Bleeding Zone faded completely, Belladonna and Parfaite moved to help Fumiko to her feet. The mechanic was conscious but clearly hurt, her movements uncoordinated. La Première's multi-armed form and Dawn's armor and sword flickered away, unstable without the zone's support.

Momo could see them at the far end of the tunnel - the very edge of the Bleeding Zone they had teleported to before it collapsed. She staggered to her feet and started to chase after them, [Simply Red] dissolving along with the Zone. She couldn't let them escape, and while she had taken quite a bit of damage from the fight, she was still able to run faster than most of the group. She closed the distance, sprinting after the trio before Kentaro drew his pistol and fired twice over his shoulder without looking.

"Stop! They'll ricochet, dumbass!" Kenji yelled.

The shots went wide - intentionally or otherwise - but the deafening CRACK CRACK of gunfire in the enclosed tunnel was enough to make Momo dive for cover. By the time she looked up again, the trio were gone, disappeared into the labyrinth of tunnels. Luckily, the ricochets missed her.

For a moment, there was only heavy breathing and the sound of dripping water.

Momo stared at the darkened tunnel, the flickering emergency lights above providing barely pushing at the darkness. After the footsteps die away, she relents, returning to the side of the rest of the Fujiwara Senki. Parfaite was busy at work, tending to Fumiko's wounds. Dawn turns as Momo approaches, speaking out.

"Were they... were they with the Denim Pygmies? Some kind of alliance?"

"No way." Momo shook her head, wincing at the movement. She was holding her wrist - did that guy break it? Hopefully it was just bruised, she'd need to get Parfaite to check it out once she finished with Fumiko. "The darker one treated Sawada-san like shit - they're not allies, or at least not close ones. And the Pygmies couldn't afford guns. This is something else. Yakuza maybe?"

"...Rogue Awakened?" Fumiko added, her voice hoarse. Brute Cannon had fully dissolved along with the rest of the Idolons, leaving her lying in the dirty water, cuts and scrapes all across her body. Thankfully, it seemed like her Feedback damage wasn't nearly as severe as it first appeared - maybe the electricity was more effective against Brute Cannon thanks to it being a machine? "They were tough... That time manipulation, the portals... that's high-level shit. Whoever they are, they're organized."

"This couldn't have been chance. Couldn't have Scouted it, not when the Bleeding Zone appeared so suddenly." Parfaite's multi-armed form had collapsed back into normal body, though she grimaced when she looked down at her soiled maid uniform. "They were waiting for us..."

Dawn looked at the tunnel where their attackers had vanished. "We need to report this to the Student Council. Immediately."

Momo nodded. She hated asking for help, but this was beyond what the Fujiwara Senki could handle alone. Two Awakened with complementary abilities, willing to work with criminals, and skilled enough to nearly take down all four of them?

This was a problem.

---

---

---

Running through a pitch black subway tunnel was pretty difficult - even more so when you had to drag a flailing manlet with you along the way, telling him to shut the fuck up every dozen meters. Eventually the trio managed to navigate their way back to the abandoned station they entered through, climbed the stairs, and ran for another 10 minutes through the alleys and streets of the forbidden district until they finally stopped just inside the Traditional Arts district. By the end, Kenji was a sputtering mess, coughing and hacking his lungs out as if he was on the verge of vomitting. Kentaro and Ryo were fairing much better better - though, to be fair, the latter was dragged by the former about half the time.

As soon as he had finished catching his breath, Kentaro grabbed Ryo by the collar and literally threw him into a pile of garbage bags. The shorter man landed hard - his expensive clothes were ruined, torn, bloody, and now they were covered in that disgusitng 'juice' that oozed out from garbage left out too long. He looked up at his "saviors" with a mixture of fear and confusion.

"I didn't need your help," he tried to sound intimidating, but his voice lacked conviction. "I had them right where I wanted-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kentaro cut him off, kicking the man in the side and forcing him to curl up in pain. "You're pathetic. That whole display back there? Embarrassing. For you, for your buddies, it was a fucking disgrace."

Ryo gasped and groaned in the trash for a few seconds, Kentaro hovering over him to let his words sink in. When the moaning died down, he continued.

"We didn't save your ass for nothing - from now no, you're our bitch. The pygmies go where we tell them too, they fuck with anything the Fujiwara Senki try to start, and if you EVER think of ratting us out to the cops, you're gonna wish the Senki could have fucked you up in that tunnel. Trust me, we'll make what you did to Yuki Hajime look like a fucking joke."

Ryo stared up at the helmeted figure, before his gaze turned to his other savior, masked and hunched over, still gasping for breath from that run.

"W-who the hell are yo-"

"Don't finish that or I'll break your neck."

Ryo bites his tongue - whether the threat was a bluff or not wasn't something he was willing to risk.

"H-hey, you're not gonna let him kill me, right!? Short guys have to stick together!!"

When he noticed Ryo was speaking to him, Kenji drearily raised his head, wiping the sweat from his brow as he spoke.

"S-short? I'm... 169 centimeters... that's pretty average in Japan, isn't it...? Oh god I'm tired..."

"Not compared to the giants in this city, where every guy is like a 180-plus freak! I mean, c'mon! At my high school I'm basically forced to sit in the front of the class if I want to see the board-"

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up about being short!" Kentaro kicked Ryo again in the stomach, eliciting more groans from the bruised delinquent. "It shouldn't be your only fucking personality trait! Now listen: You're going to do what we say, when we say it! If you don't, I'm handing you off to this fuck for his fucking snuff films!"

Kentaro took a few steps back, panting hard, before withdrawing a cigarette and lighting it. Ryo stared through barely cracked eyes, watching as Kenji approached and gave the young delinquent an appraising look.

"...I'm actually not really a fan of snuff films, you know?" Kenji's tone was conversational, almost pleasant - the same voice he used when discussing his favorite movies at the video store. "There isn't enough character development. The stakes don't feel earned. The violence lacks narrative context. Just gore, for gore sakes - not even the charmingly attempts from slashers at a plotline..."

The boy crouched, leaning in close until he was only centimeters away from Ryo's face. If he really wanted to, Ryo could count the freckles dotting the boys nose and cheeks - though he was so unsettled by the situation that he just stared into the man's unblinking eyes.

"But I could always use some research material. See how real blood should splatter when someone's head hits concrete at high speed. What proper screams should sound like. Not that over acted scream-queen shit, but genuine, y'know? The exact sound bone makes when it breaks under pressure." He paused, a look like he just remembered something crossing his face. "Oh, and I have this torture scene in mind involving a power drill. Gonna have Audition vibes... Hey, do you know the highest vertebrae I could puncture before you can't climb out of a basement?"

The questions weren't threats. There was no malice or deliberate intimidation in Kenji's voice - just genuine curiosity. He wasn't trying to scare Ryo. If he thought he could get away with it, he would absolutely conduct those experiments, purely for the sake of achieving realistic effects in his films.

That made it so much worse.

Ryo pressed himself back against the alley wall, staring at his own terrified reflection in Kenji's dead, grey eyes. His throat worked, trying to form words. His mouth opened and closed three times before he could force something out. "I... I understand... I'll do whatever you ask, target who you want targeted... P-please, j-just let me go..."

Kenji stayed in that position for a long moment. At least 20 seconds of staring into each other's eyes. Then, his hands slowly moved to retrieve the camera hanging from his neck. The recording light blinked on, capturing the snot and tears running down Ryo's face as he stared at his captors.

"Mmm..." Kenji watched through the viewfinder, adjusting the zoom slightly. He made a satisfied sound, like a man sitting down after a long day of work. "Kino... That look of despair really captures the emotional authenticity I was going for in Dark Days and Bright Knights. The way your pupils dilate with fear, the asymmetry of your expression, the tears... Can't get that normally, nope..."

Kentaro sighed and grabbed Kenji by the scruff of his sweater, physically dragging him backward. The director made a sound of protest but didn't resist, his camera still trained on Ryo's face until Kentaro forcibly turned him around and pushed him away.

"Good," Kentaro's voice took on a more businesslike tone as he looked down at the trembling gang leader. "Just remember to stay in your lane. You're going to keep fucking over those bitches' operations - raids on their supply lines, territorial disputes, the usual gang shit. If you can, get everyone else on board - the more gang violence directed theri way, the better. But you don't engage them directly without us there to bail your ass out again. Clear?"

Ryo nodded frantically.

"Good boy. Run with your tail between your legs if you gotta... You're also going to help the IDs with distribution." Kentaro took the cigarette from his mouth and put it out against the wall, centimeters from Ryo's head. "Those Tamagotchi things - you and your guys are going to help get them to people who can actually use them. The strong ones, the ones with potential, you send our way. I don't care how you convince the IDs to let you work with them - give em cash, do some jobs for them, fuckin suck them off, I don't care. Whatever it takes. The more Awakened, the better. You got it?"

"Y-yes. I understand. I'll... yes..."

For a moment he just stood there, a looming presence that made Ryo shrink even further into the garbage pile. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and matter-of-fact.

"Alright then. Just remember to not pull on your leash."

And like that, they were done. Kentaro turned to walk back down the alley, and after filming a few more seconds of Ryo's despair, Kenji moved to follow. Soon, Ryo was left lying in a pile of garbage, his clothes torn and bloody, and shaking like a leaf.

He looked down at his hands, still shaking. His pants felt warm and wet.

"Fuck..." he whispered to the empty alley. "I pissed myself..."