Chapter Text
It could've gone worse.
Nonetheless, a conflict would not have been avoidable. A confrontation with a member of the Port Mafia was instrumental but this was perfect.
More than perfect, it was absolutely brilliant. She had Nakahara Chuuya in her clutches. It would only be smooth sailing from here on out, save for the little complication of her ability. She had still yet to work out the makings of this ability of hers. Standing Still in Time had never affected anyone else other than herself, this demonstration on the Mafia executive was only the result of a whim. A throw of a dice at subduing an undefeatable enemy, yet still carefully calculated.
Her eyes narrowed at Nakahara's unconscious face. Ever since the last time, her opinion of him had turned from bad to worse. She had been extremely wary of him, like she had with anyone affiliated with Port Mafia but she was still bitter about her last violent encounter with him that left her out of commission for weeks.
Her exhaustion from battling him with her ability had caused her to lose her concentration, allowing his attack to give her a few broken ribs and a broken arm which cost her precious time that could've been more beneficial dedicated to other matters besides nursing her injuries.
Her nose twitched, partly from the reeking metallic stench of blood filling the air and partly from the distasteful sight of his face. Its pale complexion was gaunt and slick with sweat from the torturous pain. The only sign of life that came from him was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by the soft sighs of his shallow breaths. She released her grip on his neck and stood back to take in the pathetic visage of the man, her lips morphing into a grimace.
His clothes were drenched in his own deep red blood. There was a shallow cut in his abdomen. She assumed it was a graze that he had received while trying to dodge Ozaki Kouyou's blade. The other injuries, however, were more pronounced and likely intended to immobilise him. She felt these wounds like she would her own. The searing pain that picked its way through her body when she remained untouched. It was a new experience for her since she only ever used her ability on herself. Even so, she had never utilised it to drastically alter the age of her body.
Before long, black mist started to rise from Nakahara's head. It rolled off his shoulders in billows and twisted from his fingertips until he was entirely immersed in the ominous shifting black substance.
Suddenly, she wasn't standing in a grimmy shipyard in the middle of the night. The sky above Yokohama shimmered and faded into a blank expanse of smooth black ceilings. Red ornate walls surrounded her and velvet carpeting surfaced under her feet. In the chair beside her was a young boy. He held in his fidgeting hands a hat.
She walked a circle around him and waved her hand in his face. He didn't react at all and continued readjusting his clothes. This was a vision. Just like before, when she used her ability on Nakahara.
The boy wore a white button-up shirt with an unbuttoned vest and a lose ribbon tied around his collar. The expression on his face was governed by a steely glare. He wiped his hands down on his dark trousers despite the fact that his palms were dry, he was oozing nervous energy like a steam train spewing smoke during a cross country journey. There's a tightness in his shoulders that showed the apprehension that he failed to hide behind his stony mask. A soft click startled him, the boy snapped his head to the door as a new person materialised into the room from the blurry edges of the vision.
It was a young woman. Her vivid orange hair was pulled up in an elegant twist and fastened together with decorative pins and jewellery. Her shapely figure was wrapped in a violet kimono as she glided forward with a pale hand outstretched.
Sata looked at her in wonder. This was indeed Ozaki Kouyou but one could hardly call this girl a woman. Her features were too soft and too full of emotion compared to the hardened woman with a sword-wielding demon. Her perfectly stencilled eyebrows arched and her shoulders squared when her eyes met the boy's, a sudden air of aloofness weaved itself around her.
"Kouyou—" he stood, pulling at the cloak around his shoulders.
Ozaki's lips thinned as she beckoned for him to approach. "Come, Chuuya."
The boy patted his similarly vivid hair and pushed the hat down on his head, responding with a curt nod.
The darkness lifted from her eyes just as soon as the boy puffed out his chest and strode forward. The vision dissolved into a burst of black mist. She inhaled a sharp breath as she watched the mist swirl around a silhouette much smaller than Nakahara's sitting against the metal beam. She knew she witnessed this happen before just moments ago but she'd never get used to it.
Sitting in the mist was the boy with his head slumped forward on his chest and his hands resting on the hat in his lap. Gradually, the mist ebbed and dissipated. He jolted forward without warning, crystalline blue eyes wide and searching. His face twisted in anger a second later and he was on his feet, opening his mouth to spout more profanities.
Quick as he was to anger, his expression changed to one of puzzlement. He tilted his head down to examine his arms, bewildered at the fact that he wasn't covered in blood. He pulled back his sleeves to gape at his flawless unbroken skin.
The familiar snarl returned to his face as he marched forward, "What did you do to me?" Only to clamp his palms over his mouth to silence himself while he turned as red as his hair. He no longer had the voice befitting of a Port Mafia executive but a voice belonging to a boy who had yet to reach maturity.
She replied with a haste smirk and a shrug, turning her back to him to hide a laugh. The solemn surprise from before had completely vanished, replaced by a bubbly mirth that loosened her focus on the task. She spun back around just in time to narrowly sidestep a kick from him. Without missing a beat, she grabbed his foot and shoved him backwards. He flailed, falling on his back as soon as he failed to steady himself.
Her smile had widened into a menacing grin as he came at her again with a series of punches aimed at her stomach. She deflected each one with the same blocking arm and flipped him onto his back. He rose to his feet again stubbornly with a nasty grin of his own. She looked down at him, seeing triumph in the curve of his lips, her eyes shone with a sheen of mocking amusement. She wondered what made him so enthused about attacking her again after she had shrugged off his previous hits like she did his insults. Where had his confidenace stemmed from?
She didn't get to answer that question herself because an angry red flash blinded her. She felt the pit in her stomach grow as she was suddenly weightless, her feet no longer touching the ground.
Oh, so that's where, she quipped to herself.
In a split second, she activated her own ability again. Her hands trembled as crippling rage flared up inside her, all tangled up in overwhelming frissons of anguish. She could feel the pulsating surge of power under her skin, setting her nerves on edge. The red around her intensified and she crashed into the concrete. She braced her shoulders, sinking to one knee to absorb the force of the impact but that crushing weight never came. The red glow still clung to her but the ground beneath her barely broke. The gravity around her had strengthened, however mildly.
She let loose a sound akin to a cackle and leapt forward, ramming the boy back into the crumpled red metal. She had her hand around his neck faster than he could even yelp at the sickening crack from his shoulder.
If only for a moment, the pained gasps that reached her ears restored her confidence. She gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him up to her face. She was still laughing, her cackle had elongated into a low dark chuckle. The following silence became deafening when she stopped to breathe. The pulsing in her stomach subsided at the hiss of her breath, leaving her nerves tingling from fingertip to fingertip. Her chest heaved despite the minimal effort taken to beat him down. The exhausting effects of using her ability in the earlier fight were exacerbating her mental capacity to withstand the emotional stress she went through to activate that aspect of her ability.
She broke the silence with a harsh slap across his cheek. Her expression watered down to an apathetic glower, the tone of her voice, however, dripped with acid, "You should behave yourself."
"I don't need to listen to you," he replied with an adamant glare intended to goad her into exuding more violence.
"I think you and I both agree that you'd be much more useful," she clamped her other hand over his injured shoulder, daring him to continue defying her, "alive."
He bit down hard on his lip, writhing while he clawed at her vice-like grip. "NO!" he spluttered out a scream.
"You don't have a choice," she crooned and his struggling weakened when she pinned his arms to his back. His movements became sluggish after she forced a needle into an artery on his neck, the tranquilliser slowly taking effect. In half a minute, he became as limp as a rag doll.
Sata heaved him over her shoulder and promptly fell to her knees, nearly face-planting into the cement. She dropped him unceremoniously onto the ground and laughed airily, "You're not as dainty as you look."
Truthfully, there wasn't enough strength left in her legs to carry Nakahara along with her, even in his current state. Her shoulders sagged as she produced a long deliberate sigh.
She totally forgot what came after taking him out.
She shrugged, grabbed his legs and began dragging him across the shipyard.