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Multiple Settings ㄒ卄乇 千尺ㄖ几ㄒ











scroll
shiraishi kage





hospital





hani & kazuo














The sudden fit of laughter made Kage want to roll his eyes. Of course Hani would laugh. It was comically infuriating to know that he was taken down from behind and beaten to hell. Hanzo Shiratori's disgust could be felt now even from beyond the grave.

After everything I have given you, you still disappoint me.

Hanzo's voice echoed in Kage's psyche up until his son spoke up, "...Nothing I haven't recovered from before." It was a convincing answer. And, he was right. This has happened before, but it never willed Hani to put a medical professional on all fours. Grey eyes glanced over to Kazuo, a silent speculation, before his gaze was beckoned back to Amihan.

"Kage, I would like to hear about you. Who roughed you up?" Damn. His sarcasm was not received.

"I'm unsure. I was drugged from behind, and if it wasn't for Kiyoko, I'd probably be as good as dead."
He kept his tone professional, until he clicked his tongue.
"However, she got help from Masashi. I think he had some fun bringing me back to my apartment."
Whatever was left of his pride stopped him from explaining that he remembers moments of laughter and the feeling of his head falling on the floor again and again. What was the point?

"Either way. It is highly likely that this is related to Saori, but I have no ID on who the perpetrators were."
More failures. If Hanzo himself could rise from the grave and bash Kage's blonde head into the wall, he damn sure would have by now.
"I... will have more information soon."
There was nothing else to say. Apologies were pointless, a waste of air. Apologies didn't produce results.

His gaze lowered to the IV Hani was peeling at, lingering there for a moment before looking over to Kazuo.
"What about you, anyone drug and beat you today?"




♡coded by uxie♡
 
mood :
Pleased.



--LOCATION HERE--

Walk-in fridge
outfit :
mentions :


interactions :
Idiot Doom Spiral Idiot Doom Spiral
BOH supervisor
Masashi

Masashi just rolled his eyes to Masamune’s comment, as if he could afford a jacket. With a sigh he pressed his heels against the ground rocking the milk crate he was sitting on slightly as he listened to his roommate talk. With each passing day they saw each other less and less, Masashi often found himself working later hours than normal. And ever since the first murder, he rarely got to see his bed anymore. Let alone share a meal with Masamune. A part of him envied their cat, knowing that at least the bastard had the luxury of lounging around with him. He blinked, laughing a bit as Masamune shoved him harmlessly. Bringing him back down to reality for a moment as his attention returned to him.

He couldn’t help the grin that grew against his lips as his partner brought up him having all the fun. In fact, his job with Kage and Kiyoko might have been the highlight of his career. The shit eating grin on his face was a testimony to that. Yet as Masamune spoke Masashi’s eyes widened a bit. His hand clenched, knuckles turning white at the comment alone. The brat had the nerve to call Masamune a rat? Him? Of all people? It took everything in him not to see red, a surge of heat coursing through his veins in an instant. He cleared his throat, running a tired hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. Had he always felt this protective over his roommate? Or was it just his distaste for Hani that stirred such a reaction from him.

His pale gaze rested on Mamasune’s tanned skin, watching as he flicked the remains of the bud to the side. A part of him knowing he’d be the one to clean that up later, but that was beside the point. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in the man as a whole for once. The slight puffs of hot air that surrounded them as they talked, that despite how cold it was inside of the walk-in Masamune still managed to look warm.

A part of him couldn’t remember when they actually became so close. Still- He never owned much in his lifetime, he never even had people other than his mother that he was scared of losing. Over the years working at Red Moon, he had seen people come and go. Leave or die, most ending up butchered at his hand whenever Hani needed a body broken down. He’d spend hours treating people he once talked to daily as if they were slabs of meat, sectioning off parts in that cold, lifeless warehouse- under the guise that they betrayed the bar. Or more so they betrayed the precious family. A part of himself couldn’t help but see himself as just another dog under Hani’s thumb. Yet, as his gaze trailed up Masasmune’s frame. He felt a pang of regret- or maybe it was fear. He didn’t know how the other man did it, but the thought of losing Masamune to Hani’s hand. Made him shake with the same fear he had for his own mother.

He let out a dry laugh, raising a brow as Yoshio was brought up. The mental image alone was delicious enough, a part of him wishing he was there to witness it all go down. He blinked, snapping out of his daydream haze as Masamune leaned forward. He couldn’t help the cackle that erupted from him. “And then what? We both run away together and live happily ever after?” And with that he closed the distance between them. It was brief, a short moment of respite in their otherwise nightmare of a “normal” life. His lips pressed against the head chef’s for what felt like a fleeting moment as he pulled away with a laugh. He reached forward, his thumb brushing over Masamune’s bottom lip as he reached down to take the beer can from him. Taking a swig he let out a sigh as he leaned back. “Well if the kid ever tries some shit with you again, I’d kill for you in a heartbeat.” The words fell from his lips so casually yet his own heart was hammering against his ribs. “Did you two at least get any information about what’s actually going on, or was the brat just manic the whole time?





 
Last edited:



hayashi yoshio.





































  • mood



    guilt-ridden
















Yoshio's eyes flicked over Takara’s expression, noting the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his smile—genuine though it was—couldn’t quite conceal the faint exhaustion etched beneath his golden eyes. The dim lighting of the Red Moon cast long shadows across the table, pooling in the hollows of Takara’s face, accentuating the way worry sat just beneath the surface of his features. He could tell that the news had hit harder than Takara was letting on. The lightness of his usual playful demeanor seemed to have abandoned him for a moment, but Yoshio wasn’t exactly expecting a calm response. The weight of what was happening was settling in, but that didn’t mean he had to let the atmosphere get too heavy just yet.

The corners of Yoshio’s mouth quirked upward as he leaned back, the cheerful lilt creeping into his voice.
"Look, kid. You should be worried,"
The older man said, his tone almost teasing.
"Worrying might just help you survive. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a knack for staying alive, so maybe take a page from my book."
He gave Takara a wink, the faintest hint of mischief dancing in his eyes, though it didn’t quite reach the depth of his gaze. The tension still lingered, and Yoshio knew it wasn’t going to be shaken off so easily with a joke. But he could at least try.

With a sigh, Yoshio straightened up, the jovial facade slipping back a little. His fingers tapped lightly on the envelope that still sat between them, reminding them of what was at stake as he pulled back the conversation to a more grim topic.
"Yosuke’s death wasn’t a coincidence,"
he stated.
"Hani was the one who received the pictures of Yosuke’s body first. Someone wanted him to see Yosuke like this before anyone else did.”


For a moment, Yoshio considered ending further mentions of their boss right there. It was bad enough that he knocked out someone who was half his size, but he did it against someone he considered his own responsibility. But Takara? He was just as close to Hani as Kage was. Hell, he arguably had more experience with the bar than Yoshio did, since Kanako had been friends with Hani's mother way before her death... and consequently, his recruitment. No matter how long he’ll put on a brave face, surely the younger man would feel apprehensive about his childhood friend getting injured.

But then Yoshio thought about what would happen to him after Hani recovers from his head injury. If he was accused of being The Rat based on false accusations, then he’s about to face a worse punishment for something he legitimately did. The other members of Red Moon would find out about the cause of Hani‘s hospitalization sooner or later. Withholding it would only make him look worse once their boss says his side of the story—and the last thing Yoshio needed was anyone thinking he had something to hide. Might as well be honest with Takara now, while he’s still in one piece.

"We were all sitting in the back office, trying to hash out the new menus, right? Hani, Masamune, and me. Out of nowhere, Hani flipped his desk over and spilled everything on the ground. We thought it was another one of his tantrums, but it turned out it was because he found these photos while sifting through the mail. He starts yelling, accusing Masamune and me of being The Rat, pointing a knife at both of us."
Yoshio chuckled bitterly, shaking his head at the memory.
"I mean, hell, I know not everyone is exactly thrilled to be here. But the amount of years we’ve invested in this place had got to mean something.”


His voice took on a darker tone as he continued.
“We tried tying him up, but then he started talking about Hiro- I mean, Masamune’s dad and it became a whole mess. I could’ve let them tear each other apart, but... I couldn’t let that happen. So, what did I do? I knocked Hani out in one swing. Left him at the hospital in the end, but at least they’re both alive."


Yoshio’s hand brushed over his own face, wiping away the traces of the brief flash of emotion that had overtaken him.
"The things I do for this bar, huh?"
he muttered sardonically. As much as he excused Hani’s behavior, he couldn’t help but be offended that he was accused of being the Rat in the first place. Hani, of all people, should’ve known better. Yoshio had been there for him and his father too many times, supported the damn place through thick and thin, and yet he still had his loyalty questioned.

But his fate had already been sealed. Now he has to worry about protecting whoever’s left in the Red Moon.

Yoshio shifted his posture slightly, leaning forward and placing a reassuring hand over Takara’s. His fingers wrapped around Takara’s with a gentle pressure.
“It looks like The Rat is either targeting the FOH or the least motivated staff,”
Yoshio said.
“But no matter what, I’m willing to protect everyone here. You especially, Takara. You’ve got your parents to think about, you still have a way to support yourself outside of the business.”
His eyes held Takara’s for a moment, sincere and unwavering.
“I’ll do anything to end this as quickly as possible.”


After a moment, the older man grasped Takara’s hand one last time before pulling back, returning to his usual attitude.
"Now, tell me. I’ve heard you and Natsuki did an investigation a while ago. Did you learn anything that can help?"
































pretty old man



no buses










♡coded by uxie♡
 
CHEF
Yuusuke


The past few days has been a string of bad luck it seeemed, bad enough to the point where even Rin broke her silence. The other chef's voice was the first to make his knife stop, his tone joining the rest of the group. "I had a plan," he began, his voice low but firm. "And contrary to what you all thought I was going to do—probably run around, sticking my knife in the first person who gave me a funny look, right? I wasn’t going to get in trouble." His grip on the knife tightened, not aimed at the cutting board anymore but at his side as he turned toward Rin. They never really got along, did they? "Maybe Yosuke finally got the courage to leave this place, he never was the employee of the month, was he? Or maybe he's stashed in a garbage bag—or multiple ones, somewhere." He took a step closer to Rin, the closest they’d probably ever been after all these years working side by side. "If there’s a target on my back, then fine. I’d wave a damn flag and parade through the streets if it meant doing something useful—like luring out the rat, exposing her once and for all."

As if the two women ganging up on him wasn't enough, but the real tipping point came when Kana spoke of 'camaraderie' and 'home', something that pushed him past the edge. "I had one," he snapped, his voice thick with emotion. "Had, until it was burned down by those pests, and they’ll continue to do so unless we stop them." Yuusuke’s throat constricted, his eyes burned with unshed anger, and his heart felt like it was going to implode. "And what gave you the idea that I'd willingly choose this hell hole? I didn't know that I was exuding such a sense of belonging to this place, but if I gave off the impression that I wanted any part of this madness, then you’re terribly mistaken." His words were sharp, dripping with frustration. He had been clinging to the remnants of a life that was ripped from him, and now, all of a sudden, he was being asked to buy into something that felt like a bitter mockery of what he had lost. The notion of 'home' and 'camaraderie' felt like an insult, given how easily things could be torn down, leaving only ashes in their wake.

"Maybe you all can pretend that everything is fine and dandy here, get comfortable wearing your uniforms and serving people with a smile plastered on your faces until it's your head that's being served."

 
mood :
Determined to perform well

location :
Red Moon Bar
outfit :
mentions :


interactions :
Dicentra Dicentra @Nano
Sexy Bartender
Natsuki
There was something so simplistic yet overly gratifying about watching his coworkers enjoy his creations based on their facial expressions. One could fake a lot of things in their line of profession, but genuine enjoyment was one that he could easily read. Granted, he could tell that Meifang consumed the drinks with much more gusto than Shinju, a difference that was clearly based on their individual personalities. Natsuki beamed at them like a proud father and offered Meifang two thumbs up after each ego-stroking compliment.

The slight hesitation from Shinju was not unexpected and an action that he did not take any offense to. Considering how there must be some sort of rat among them that would be so willing to kill off the people they had considered a second family at one point; the concern was valid. Plus, it probably doesn't help with Natsuki's M.O. being poisons with all of the various flora littered throughout each drink.

"Happy to see that you enjoyed the drinks to the max Mei, granted you'll probably end up with a slight buzz with the rather large sips you took of each", Natsuki could only laugh at the woman that had shown no fear or sense of distrust at the free drinks offered to her. That level of comradery was rare around these parts with all that had been going on. His attention soon turned to Shinju as she had given her feedback and questioned the reasoning behind him using this time to work on some new creations.

"I've noticed that the tang and sweetness of the lemon syrup can be quite abrupt for some people, but I am glad to hear that the overall combination is quite nice. I definitely wouldn't suggest drinking all 4 in the same manner that you tasted them. Would definitely be a palate overload and would probably deaden one's ability to discern the different underlying flavors of each drink. I'm very grateful for the honest and useful feedback." He began to clean up his station before realizing that Shinju's question had gone unaswered.

Natsuki pondered it for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders in response, "Well there's entirely too many unknowns surrounding Saori's case that following clues that we've all managed to pick up at some time or another. The constant buzzing in my brain has become quite annoying as I toil through an endless stream of what-ifs and how-comes while also maintaining that same level of air-headedness that keeps the customers entertained. Not to mention the irritating lab tests my mother has given me to not only run but to develop a functioning paralytic that does a number of other things. Making drinks deafens all of that unnecessary background noise and allows me to stay on one-track and the resulting paths that branch off of it. I wish there was an upcoming contest though, no better way to test my mettle than against others in the same field to see how I stack up."



coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
Irritated

location :
Kitchen
outfit:
mentions:
Yuusuke, Kana

interactions:
leviohsa leviohsa Auda Auda
the chef.
‟Rin”

As Yuusuke’s voice rose in volume, the only look on the four-eyed chef’s face was that of unsurprise. Rin watched the way his face contorted in ire, his poorly disguised threat usurped the atmosphere of the kitchen.

Rin’s blade stopped in its tracks, instead promptly moving it to point the other chef between his wringing eyes—only a hair away. “Why don’t you settle down, Kunugi?” She stated, this time turning to face him directly. “Or else. You say you had a plan, but don’t blame anyone here for thinking otherwise. You’re as emotional as they come. Predictable, like a child.”

Rin didn’t wait for either of the two’s responses before her knife returned to the cutting board, picking up at the pace it had before. “I do not care about either of your feelings towards the bar or the yakuza. What I care about is the boss.” The chef’s glance, now a sharp green glare which contributed the suffocating tension. “Saori was the weak link, she never showed to work. And now Yosuke, who also made his feelings about the bar known.”

Her pace picked up, “The boss and his duo have been distant lately. Put two and two together.” Rin candidly explained, “And then you acted recklessly and could have played into the hands of the enemy. Now do you see the problem with your stunt?”

“Before you throw around accusations, use your brain before you get us all in hot water.”
Rin finally concluded with a flat tone. Why Amihan hired these people in the first place was nothing but a mystery to her.


coded by reveriee.
 
Koba
The Dishwasher
Koba's stiff stature oversaw the little monster of a woman and absorbed all that was vile about her. The cigarette. The lackadaisical scoffs. Her smile. His shoes felt too large, and maybe there were gnats autumn time in Japan because one buzzed in his ear. A finger of his twitched. The stench of the dumpster near them started to overtake Koba, and the familiar need to run away surfaced. Or to polish the darkness to light. Yet he knew he could not turn his nose up at the souls of others when his own was so... deformed. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to decipher what she meant. There too many words. Women always had that curse.

"There is no honor," he finally murmured, planning ahead. He was sure nothing would happen, but Kiyoko came off as unpredictable and Koba was a poor predictor. So he had to use hard facts without the lightness of intuition. He remained calm as she circled him, his muscles tense in preparation when she would or would not pounce. Maybe she had a knife strapped to her. A gun. Maybe her voice was the weapon alone.

"Why are you loyal to him? He would kill you in a heartbeat. He doesn't love you. He can't-- he can't love. You know he can't," he said softly, keeping his eye contact with the circling hawk. His eyes almost pleaded with her, but it was untraceable in the alleyway. A good portion of them were incapable of love -- even Koba himself -- but he liked to think they were capable of reason and duty. Thus Red Moon was founded, to purify the world of sin and filth. To make it clean again. Who knew the bar would be the filthiest of all?

coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
still worried

location :
the hospital
outfit :
mentions :
hani, kage

interactions :
e v i e v i leviohsa leviohsa
Kazuo Matsuda
松田 和夫

Though Kazuo wished to press Hani on his lackadaisical dismissal of his presence in the hospital, he had to admit he was just as curious to learn what had happened to Kage. He didn’t conceal the flash of interest that crossed his face as Kage spoke, relating the details behind his attack. The line of his mouth tightened, as his eyes hardened– a sure sign of his displeasure.
“Masashi… I’ll have a word with him. I take it then, Kiyoko-san didn’t see who attacked you either?”


It was a rhetorical question– Kage would have told them if she did. Still, the lack of information bothered Kazuo. It was perturbing that someone had taken down Kage, and a poor job on Kiyoko’s part for allowing the attackers to get away. Still, there was a part of him– deep down, of course– that was glad she was there to help Kage. He didn’t allow himself to wonder what might have happened otherwise. Even from the glance he’d gotten of the other man, he could extrapolate the extent of his injuries. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Kage looked toward him.

At that, Kazuo glanced down at his nails, a seemingly idle action that allowed him to look away from those grey eyes. He’d have to trim them soon… they were getting long. He hadn’t gotten around to it lately, too busy… far too busy. He looked back up at Kage.
“No.”
His reply was curt, and he considered for a moment simply stopping there. But, as always, he held himself to his responsibility.
"I had a little chat with Meifang-san.”
He shook his head.
“She had nothing interesting to say.”
Nothing interesting to either of you, at least– he filled in.

Kazuo himself had analyzed and poured over that conversation time and time again after it had finished, trying to find any fault in the woman’s words, a sign of guilt or of admission. Annoyingly, he’d not gotten far… yet.

He sent Hani a withering look, spotting the man’s attempts to remove the IV line. He was already wound up, already feeling on edge, and Hani’s antics were getting on his nerves more than they usually did. He didn’t doubt for a moment that Hani was lying about being here for a mere concussion. He hated being lied to, and worst of all… it meant he was still worried out of his mind for his friend boss.

Still, it wasn’t like he was about to admit to any of those things. Instead, he gave Hani another glare as the man finished disentangling himself from the IV. Suddenly, he found himself extremely angry at Hani for laughing right now, for acting so childish.

“We must take these events seriously.”
He told the other two, amber eyes flicking between them, voice cold and professional.
“Our opponents are clever. They are obviously skilled, else they would not have managed to put you–”
He addressed Kage.
“In such a state. Where have we gotten? One dead, one injured.”
He listed.
“Araya Kenji– caught and killed. A disgusting coward but not the perpetrator. There are too many variables left unidentified, and the longer it takes us, the more exposed we leave ourselves.”


His gaze slipped to Hani, to their leader, as always waiting for a command. The question lay implied in his stare- What is the plan?

coded by reveriee.
 








  • click here
































    death


    Yoshihisa Hirano
    Hideki Taniuchi









    MASAMUNE




♡design by miyabi, coded by uxie♡
 
ishida takara

the honeypot
F
or a moment, the crushing weight of two of his co-workers deaths nearly threatened to swallow him whole. This bar had been everything to him his entire life. These people, love or hate them, were important to him. He didn’t want to keep losing them, not to some unknown cause that was just as likely to be an outside influence as someone within their ranks. But most pressing, and though he’d never admit such a fear, he did not want to die. Not like this, not at the hands of someone that he should be able to trust most of all.

So he turned to Yoshio, focusing in on his steady presence. The other’s playful tone and wink were enough to bring a more genuine smile to his face. Yoshio always had a certain levity around him. Right now, Takara craved it.
“You are a survivor.”
He agreed.
“Does that mean I should be sticking closer to you, Yoshio?”
He asked, his voice warming up to the usual most teasing, sultry tones. Flirting with Yoshio, at least, came easy.

“They are torturing him. Taunting him. This must be personal.”
His eyes lingered on the envelope. Takara decided he didn’t want to see. Better to leave the last memory he had of Yosuke, not whatever he had been turned into by the murder.

The story that followed was difficult to listen to, but not unexpected. Especially not Hani’s outbursts. He’d been emotionally unstable ever since his mother died, worse after his father. Takara could not stop the grimace that spread over his face as he listened. If it had just ended at Hani waving a knife around and making accusations, Takara was fully prepared to scold Yoshio and Masamune for not being used to Hani’s particular set of outbursts. It wasn’t normal, god knows Takara knew that. But it was their normal, and everyone should have learned to just ignore it by now.

His stomach dropped out when Masamune’s father was brought into the question. There were lines that you didn’t cross. Hani’s mother. Masashi’s mother. Masamune’s father. People that were just off limits. Hani should have known better, reckless outburst or not.

“Fuck.”
Takara sighed, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. “
Is Masasmune okay? He’s not going to quite, right?”
He asked, his gut instinct to worry about him. If Hani was dead or seriously injuried, he would know about it. But his phone had been silent and still all day. Even Kage wasn’t so far up Hani’s ass as to not call him if their friend was dying. No matter what everyone else from the bar might say.
“I’m sure Kage is taking care of Hani, at least. I don’t think I should encourage yout o beat the shit out of someone who weighs half as much as you, but in your position, I don’t know what else you could have done.”


He’d do so much for Hani. But despite all of his love for him, like his own brother, Takara did not flinch at Hani or his power. He was just a bratty kid at the end of the day. And sometimes, bratty kids turned into bullied that needed to be taken down a peg. Unfortunately for Hani, he’d lashed out at the wrong people.

“Don’t worry, Yoshio, I’ll defend you. If it comes to that.”
Takara assured, leaning forwards, towards the other man.
“You can just stand behind me, and I’ll keep Hani at bay long enough to reason with him.”


The touch of Yoshio’s hand was warm. But his words raised a different heat inside of him. Affection and pleasure at the assurances that Yoshio was watching out for him.
“Guess I should start working harder, just in case, huh?”
He asked, turning his hand and lacing his fingers through Yoshio’s. Not letting him pull away just yet. He liked the solidness of him, the reassurance of the touch of skin on skin.
“Maybe I could stay with you until this is all over. It seems like there might be safety in numbers. Everyone who died….they died alone.”
It was a risk, anyone could be the rat. But Takara was putting his open faith in the fact that it wasn’t Yoshio.

He is reluctant to let the man’s hand go, leaving his hand on the table between them. A subtle, but obvious invitation should Yoshio want to touch him again.

“I don’t know.”
Takara admitted. “We followed the lead of a note to a flower shop, and found that Saori had placed an order for flowers to be delivered to a hospital….two days from now.” He started, face controting into a grimace as he mulled over those words once more.
“The flower shop was in a bad part of town, controlled by Yazkua too - which makes no sense as to why Saori would have gone there instead of anywhere closer.”
The whole situation didn’t make a lot of sense, and the sweet florist didn’t have a lot to give them, either.

“We went to the hospital room, but it was empty. I was thinking of going to the hospital on the thirteenth and keeping an eye on it - if anything happens or if anyone shows up.”
He admitted.
“Would you want to come with me? I’d like someone there I can trust, in case it does go poorly.”

His fingers slide across the table then, brushing over Yoshio’s a brief touch, maybe just a look for reassurance at this point.

Because how would Saori know who was going into that hospital room so far into the future. Rooms were assigned at random in hospitals, as far as he knew. So either this was a long-standing patient, or something far more nefarious. Takara wondered if it was some sort of drop that Saori set up, dead before it could be completed.
“We can’t have too big of a group go, or we’ll be spotted. But two can move around a lot easier.” But I feel like something is going to happen, good or bad. We need to have eye son it, no matter what.”




outfit:
location:
red moon

 
Hani
The Owner
As Kage explained his unideal circumstances before the visit, Amihan returned to fiddling with the tape. Though it irritated his skin, he kept on with a slow peel job, absorbing all the vileness his right hand man endured. The reality settled in. Hani interpreted it as black and white as he could: someone hurt Kage, his Kage, his beloved and treasured dog. He peeled the tape back fully in one swipe, ignoring the burning and redness of his skin. The IV insecurely rested on his arm, and he slowly pulled it out. Blood pooled from the tiny hole it left, and Hani pressed part of his hospital blanket to the wound. Kazuo's stern voice stifled any smile dared live on Hani's face.

He talked with Meifang after hours. Why? His eyes wandered on the sharpness of Kazuo's face, how his glasses made him look older and regal -- how Amihan's own glasses made him seem younger and a repellent to women. He huffed and pressed the blanket harder on his arm.

"I will have to properly thank Kiyoko," Hani mused, removing the makeshift gauze and swinging his legs to the edge of the bed to dangle off. He sat up, tested some straight posture to see if it would wind him in any way.

It did. He kept it to himself verbally, but his body sunk slightly as did his head. All of it was so... heavy.

"Multiple people attacked Kage, yes?" Amihan finally said in the spirit of his father. Was Kage interpreted as the biggest threat? It made sense. Thus far, they took out two weak people. Well, one that Kazuo and Kage knew of. The death of Yosuke was not yet brought to light, and he debated on how to bring it up. He was sure Saori's death was a message. Yosuke's death was a test of the waters. And to go after Kage... well, they meant business. But they got cocky, he thought, and underestimated his dog. They were clumsy. They did not do their research.

Or were they taunting him again? Photos of Yosuke's body made his head throb. He groaned.

"It's Rin's birthday today," he murmured, almost choking on a lump in his throat. It was not the topic at hand, it was something likely to send Kazuo in a cold rage, but Hani was not his father. He loathed responsibility. Quick thinking. He loathed the heaviness of Hanzo's legacy. He jumped off the bed, the world swaying around him, and he steadied himself on Kage's broad shoulder.

"Don't give me that look," he told Kazuo, a childish glare sent his way.
"I'm-- I'm thinking. I need time to think. Tomorrow, let's have a meeting at Red Moon before hours. I will call with the details. In the meantime, stay with each other. That's an order. Saori and Yosuke -- tragic losses. You and Kage? I would lose all-- all my sanity," he ironically insisted, also dropping the bomb that Yosuke was dead. On that, he did not elaborate further and simply walked out of the hospital room.

coded by reveriee.
 


















another night in the kitchen...





God, if the Chef's anger was anything, it was predictable. Violet eyes watched Yuusuke calmly, following him as he inched towards Rin. His frustration was understandable, but Kana couldn't help but let a huff pass her lips, brows rising. Clearly, someone was having a bad day.

Threats were being thrown around whilst Kana kept her elbows resting on the prep table, watching the exchange between the two moodier Chefs unfold. She was starting to regret coming in here, nearly wanting to roll her eyes at the pair pointing knives at each other. Whilst Rin talked some more, Kana checked her phone, praying for any kind of text (There were none.) “Before you throw around accusations, use your brain before you get us all in hot water.”

Ah, finally, a pause to this conversation. It was times like these that she missed Saori. She may have been a pain in the ass, but she actually felt like a human being that didn't want to kill all the time. Kana spoke up, irritation creeping into her words,
"You know what, you're right. I think you should just go on doing whatever the hell you want. If you want to kill Yakuza while they're targeting hitmen who kill Yakuza, then be my guest. You're much more skilled than the ones they killed, anyway."
Kana tucked her phone in her back pocket in a swift movement, straightening her posture while doing so,
"You have the upper hand. I mean, surely, you found something to get you closer to finding this elusive rat."



Kana knew her sarcasm would not be well-received. She half-wondered if he'd try and stab her right there, whilst she crossed her arms over her chest, watching him in faux-curiosity. The more she thought about it, the more ready she was for service to begin. She'd take disgusting dishes over this conversation right about now.






























obsessed












♡coded by uxie♡

 


mood
uneasy
location
red moon
Interaction
koba
Tag
e v i e v i



“You speak with such conviction,” Kiyoko remarks, finding her spot in front of Koba once again. Her fingers moved to her hair clip, needlessly adjusting it, while coyly studying him. The warmth that once danced in her eyes–a fire that grew with each jeer she shot towards the dishwasher–had died, leaving only a distant stare.

When she was younger, her uncle had told her that things would change as she grew older. That The Red Moon would offer a solace of like-minded people, a place of loyalty, even among those who didn’t care for one another. It seems her uncle was wrong. Maybe he was far more delusional than she had ever been, or the bar had changed. Her mind drifted to the rat, the one who was selling out their peers for what she could only assume was money. Things had certainly changed, and the more time that passed showed it was not for the better.

Realising that she had begun to stare off, Kiyoko cleared her throat, leveling her gaze back on Koba. Her uncle was wrong people never change, the same baseless school yard judgment, were just prevalent in adulthood, reshaped and differing topics, but the same nonetheless.

DId he think she was stupid? Oblivious to the way their coworkers and evidently he thought of her? The pressure that had begun to build in her throat burst when she forced herself to swallow, the feeling uncomfortable only adding to her growing irritability.

It was so easy for others to comment on her life, as if they knew anything, as if they knew her. It was funny how the ones who hardly interacted with her always had the most damning things to say. What did this shitty dishwasher know, anyway?

“I’ve had a lot of friends, but Hani has been the only one I would consider to be a genuine friend. Do you know what it is like to have to pretend to be someone else just for people to consider you worthy of speaking to? You say Hani doesn’t care, but he’s the only friend I had that never asked me to be someone I’m not, and instead celebrated me for the person I am.”

Kiyoko huffed looking away, willing herself to calm down, she wouldn’t cry, not in front of Koba. She’d rather die than show that part of herself to any of her obnoxious coworkers.

“Obviously, if you think Hani doesn’t care, you’ve never had any real friends. Since I’m such a nice person, I’ll be your friend, a real one, and maybe then you’ll get why I’m so loyal to Hani.”
fujiwara kiyoko.
© reveriee
 






Meifang 'Mei' Li


Rogue lips curled into a grin as Mei watched Shinju take her sips - one, two - only to decline the final glasses. Now that was interesting. Was she picky about her liquor? No, no, that couldn’t be it. Everyone loved alcohol (or so Mei had decided long ago). So surely, it had to be something else.

Oh! Maybe she was feeling under the weather! With all the rumors flying around, maybe Shinju was actually feeling uneasy. How adorable! Mei never cared for those kinds of things (things being coworkers dying) but maybe Shinju did!

Mei nodded to herself, slowly piecing together a plan. What could she do to cheer up Shinju? She liked her quite a bit, after all - rare as that was. And then, it hit her. A story! She loved stories! Mei’s grin widened as excitement bubbled in her chest. Oh, this was perfect. What better way to lift someone’s spirits than with an enthralling tale?

With a sudden burst of energy, she turned back to Shinju, eyes gleaming. "Alright, alright, listen up!" She began, barely able to contain herself. "You're gonna love this one."

"Okay, so you know the gin we just had? That reminds me of this one job I went on once. So there was this guy.. a major alcohol distributor for Miyurama, which, by the way, is totally discounted now because of the rumors from this event. Anyway, this guy was a big deal, selling to all the major store chains and fancy restaurants. But then, get this, one restaurant started getting complaints that their gin tasted more like tap water than anything. Imagine that! So they hire someone to look into it.. and surprise, surprise.. the dude was watering down and diluting the alcohol to rip people off!"

"But here’s the kicker. He was huge in the market, a real big shot, so the restaurant couldn't do anything about it. He thought he was on top of the world, untouchable, scamming people left and right with no consequences. Until.."


Mei’s voice dropped to a playful whisper, her eyes gleaming with delight.

"It turned out the restaurant owner was the younger sister of one scary rich man. So, the wealthy big brother gets mad. Like, really mad. No one scams his sweet little sister and gets away with it. So, what does he do? He hires some help, and word eventually makes its way to Hani’s ears. And guess what? Turns out, this guy wasn’t just some scammy businessman. No, no. He was wanted for kidnapping and murdering his competition. That’s how he climbed the ranks so fast! One day, another big distributor’s at the top, and the next? Poof! Gone. And suddenly, this guy’s got an empire and a massive warehouse that just magically appeared overnight."

She shook her head as if condemning the man's choices.

"So now everything makes sense.. why no one questioned how he rose up so quickly, why people were scared to call him out. The guy was a walking crime scene! And, well, since the restaurant owner’s brother had more than enough money and an axe to grind, guess who gets called in? Me!"

Mei beamed, hands dramatically outstretched as if she’d just revealed the punchline to a joke. "And let me tell you, it was so much fun."

"I was told I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I got rid of the body in the end. I love when Hani lets me go loose… so sweet of him."
She sighed dreamily before giggling. "But! It got messy, because I got this assignment last minute.. which meant no time to grab any of my tools!" She threw up her hands dramatically. "Disaster, right? So, what did I do? Simple. I served him his own product. I mean.. there were barrels of it everywhere. Would’ve been a waste not to."

She leaned in, voice dropping into a playful hush, eyes glinting with wicked amusement.

"Apparently his gin really was too watered down, because after a few liters, he started seizing up."
She snickered. "Did not last as long as I thought he would. He also started getting water buildup in his lungs.. which is crazy, right? I think it was because he smoked.." Mei mused, her eyes flickered downward, tracing the pocket where Shinju might be keeping her cigarettes. "Be careful.." She said with genuine concern as if this situation would ever occur.

"But, in the end, it was taking forever. He just kept waking up and seizing and throwing up. It was such a mess." She huffed, shaking her head. "Honestly, it was getting kinda annoying at that point. So I start looking around the warehouse.. you know, where they store some of their bottles.. and guess what I find? Dry ice!"

She clapped her hands together, eyes lighting up. "Did you know you can get internal frostbite? Because I sure do now!" Mei giggled, almost giddy as she recalled the memory. "So I make him take all of these together. Gin, water, dry ice.. the whole fun cocktail. And boom! His stomach ruptures!" She snapped her fingers for emphasis, then threw up her hands.

"And bam! He's coughing up blood!" She gasped, as if the idea was shocking. "It was so dramatic. Crying and begging for his life with blood spraying out of his mouth."

Then, Mei turned back with a too-sweet smile. "So! Moral of the story? At least one of these drinks didn't have dry ice! Well.. the affects aren't immediate. Maybe we'll know in a few minutes!"





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 






ㄒ卄乇 千尺ㄖ几ㄒ
尺乇ᗪ 爪ㄖㄖ几 乃卂尺

A
CT II, SCENE II.
"KILL NUMBER THREE"
October 12th, 2002. 11 AM.

One week after Araya Kenji's death. Over a month after Saori's death. A day after Rin's birthday.

Come to Warehouse E. I have a surprise for you, Hani's voice teemed into the phone to Rin after she hopefully had adequate sleep after her Friday night shift.

Kage and Kazuo were befuddled by the news that Yosuke was dead, and it was brought to their attention that another one of their employees had been missing: Umeko, who did not show up for her Saturday night shift. Since no upper management had been at Red Moon that night, there was no one to hold attendance accountable besides the whispers and speculations of employees. It reached Kage, Kazuo, and Masashi, but Kage had his own recuperating to worry about. And investigating. Yosuke, his own attackers, Umeko, and why the fuck Yoshio sent Amihan to the hospital. A dog would protect their master.

Kazuo investigated the night Kage was attacked, but he in addition had other business with Masashi per Amihan's phone call request. He arrived unexpectedly at Masashi's mother's hospital room, threat and distrust hanging in the air.

Natsuki's debonair nature dragged Yuusuke to a night of drinking and debauchery in Tokyo's seedier districts after their shift. Yuusuke needed it considering he had been bitched at by Kana and Rin prior, and Natsuki was always an envoy for fun. They woke up that late morning in a trashed hotel room, hungover with masked men standing over them with guns to their faces.

Shinju woke up to the sound of knocking on her door that morning. There, the dishwasher who barely spoke said he received a picture of their unconscious friends with the letters of the hotel in the background. He knew Shinju went after his best friend Yuusuke before to stop him from doing something stupid -- and now was the time to save him again. His eyes were desperate, and she begrudgingly set off into the late morning with him towards the hotel.

It seemed Kiyoko, Meifang and Takara were the only ones who took note that Umeko had not shown up for her shift. It was usual for her, but given the recent circumstances, they had reason to be suspicious. Without notifying upper management, they decided to visit her apartment. There, they find the door busted open and some of her hair on the floor, as if she had been dragged by it out the door.

Kana was the only one to agree to Masamune's invitation to deep clean the kitchen the next day. They discuss the situations so far as they know it. Masamune has the opportunity to confess his guilt and/or concerns about their lifestyle and how it consumed his own father until his untimely death. Kana, too, was old enough to know of his sacrifice, and they talk in the sterile kitchen and measure the worth of their risky lifestyles.




















 
Last edited:
Hani
The Owner
TW: GRAPHIC MURDER
That day he left the hospital, leaving the harrowing news Yosuke was dead in his wake, he chartered the elevator to one of his penthouse apartments. He was dwarfed by a foreign woman with a fur coat and smelling of chanel. Full red lips. Heels. His eyes sunk down to her ankles and up again at her side profile. Maybe she lived in the building. Maybe she was some Japanese socialite's plaything. He thought of Kage, how the woman might run into the security of his arms. How she would be so small in the arms of someone like Kage.

He stared for far too long, and when she gave him a "ew, fuck off. really? you?" look, he quickly looked down at his shoes. The ding of the elevator. Her heels clacked to her floor, and they echoed in Hani's mind.

-
With the pressing events, Amihan hoped Rin would forgive him. He had not forgotten her birthday, but last night was too late to summon her to the Warehouse. He had an idea, and its genius was achieved by a mirror telling him. Whispers in his sleep. When Rin entered the warehouse that late morning, Amihan stood there with a black-button up, black slacks, black shoes, and a cheetah print tie. His face bore the arbitrary spillage of dots and spurts of blood, as did his hands. He had a party hat on and a clumsily wrapped box on a nearby end table. In his hand he brandished a baseball bat with the tip of it coated in fresh, warm blood.

Though her face had been bashed in, it was Umeko's mangled body crumpled up like a piece of paper at his feet. Her hands were twisted in such a way that she was trying to protect her face from Amihan's blows before death but in vain. The little owner smiled, gesturing for Rin to approach.

"Happy birthday, Rin! I present you: a rat!" he announced, gesturing to the pile on the ground of their former bartender. His eyes were glazed over, and his presence of mind was no longer in tact. He let out a laugh and tossed the baseball bat to the corner of the warehouse.
"Well, there is this present, and I also got you one over here, but I figured you would love this one the most," he gestured casually to the body.
"Did you know she... was trying to kill you? I-- Yes, I heard it. I heard that. She also called out a lot, so..." he justified hurriedly, walking to the end table. To get there, he stepped on Umeko's body and held the small box in his red-stained hands. Some of her hair was still twined between his fingers. He approached Rin and extended the box to her, a loving smile on his face.

"Please, open it," he chimed.

coded by reveriee.
 

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