Tossing and turning, Sakura cocooned herself in her bed. Izuna wanted nothing to do with her, and she knew it was all her fault. Worse still, the visions continued to wrack her mind—disgusting, horrific images of the ones she loved having their skin ripped off by a shock wave. Constant death engulfed her mind. She felt sick to her stomach, whether from emotions, alcohol, or a combination of both, she wasn't sure.
She tried to force the images from her mind, but they would not leave—unwelcome guests that had taken permanent residence in her head. The shattering of glass tore her from her thoughts. She shot up with new-found energy, looking to her open door. There was no light coming from beyond it, and the sound had stopped. She shook it off, lay back down, and shut her eyes, begging the visions to stop. A thud. Glass shattering again. Sakura's eyes flew open.
"Okay, that's no dream," she muttered to herself, suddenly feeling very sober. Snapping out of her dark thoughts, she climbed out of bed. She crept to the cupboard. Reaching inside and shoving clothes aside, she pulled the wooden katana out from the back. It had been some time since she trained with it, and she wasn't that good anyway, but it was better than using her fists. She slung it over her shoulder like a baseball bat and tiptoed to the bedroom door. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to make a noise, she peeked out.
A girl was standing in her living room—short, her face blank, eyes glazed. Long blonde hair held in pigtails, and a bruise on her face. Clearly, she was some kind of drug addict, probably high on heroin or… something. Sakura frowned. While Kushina did allow the sale of some drugs—instructed it even—there were no hard drugs in Serito.
Sakura cracked her neck and kicked her bedroom door open, smacking it against the wall as she stepped into the living room and swung her sword, pointing it at Mysemi. Her bare feet slipping on the smooth wooden floor.
"What are you doing here?" asked Mysemi, cocking her head, drool oozing from one corner of her mouth.
"What am I… Why the hell are you in my house?" Sakura spat, her face turning bright red. Not only had this cretin broken her window to climb in, she had also tracked mud all over her new floor—and furthermore, she was barefoot! Who walked outside in the middle of the night barefoot!?
"I asked first," said Mysemi.
Sakura lifted the sword and aimed it at her. "I don't give two shits. This is my house. Get out before—"
"I'm hungry," said Mysemi, ignoring Sakura and walking into the kitchen instead.
Sakura gasped and ran after Mysemi, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen. She watched, eyes wide, as Mysemi opened the fridge, took out a packed lunch, and threw it into the microwave, setting it for two minutes.
"What... what are you doing?" This girl broke into her house, disrespected her, and now she was eating her food.
Mysemi looked at her and frowned. "Are you stupid? I told you I'm hungry."
"Get out!" Sakura swung the sword, pointing to the door.
Mysemi scoffed, raised her middle finger, and turned back to the microwave.
Izuna sat on his splintered porch steps, amber liquid glinting in his glass with every sip. Each swallow burned his throat, chased by the cool night air that tasted of salt and distant waves. A low breeze drifted off the ocean, carrying a hint of brine and something sweeter—jasmine, maybe—from the garden beyond the fence.
He raised the glass again, but froze when a shadow crossed the doorway: Ezra Sutton. Moonlight caught her hair—half-English pale, half-Japanese midnight. She'd hardened into steel since she'd joined the Kushina's circle, and that made her presence here feel dangerous, urgent. Izuna set the glass on the step, rubbed his jaw. Yet he couldn't help but smile, Ezra was a welcome sight for his tired eyes.
"Ezra." He coughed, "You're back early"
She offered him a small, wry smile. "You look like hell."
He said nothing. Her eyes narrowed—Ezra always knew what he was thinking. He rose and crossed to the window, reached inside for a second glass. When he returned, she was watching the stars. He handed her the whisky; she took it, sipped, grimaced.
"A bit sweet,"
He shrugged, tipped his head toward the sky. "They're out there somewhere."
"Who?"
"My family."
She lifted the glass again, but didn't drink.
"Family's not all its cracked up to be, I should know,"
"Yeah but-" Izuna sighed, looking down, "At least you know. All I've been told is they left at that-" his face strained, teeth gritting.
"Damn orphanage?"
Izuna smiled, Ezra knew him well enough to finish his sentences, maybe one day they could get know each other even better.
For a heartbeat, they both listened to the surf's hush, felt the wind teasing at them. Then Izuna stood, braced his hands on the porch rail, and stretched out his other hand. "It's a beautiful night. Want to walk?"
"A walk?"
"Truth is... I could use the distraction. Clear my head."
She took his hand, and let him pull her up. "Let's go."
He led her down the steps into the night, the whisky burning away in his veins, and for the first time in a long time he felt at ease. Neither of them heard the gun shots in the distance.
Blood painted the street in wide arcs, his wound a painter flicking their brush. One final spurt of his blood hit a moth sending the unfortunate creature tumbling. Ongaku ripped the kitchen knife from his neck, grabbing the man's rifle from his hands as he fell. She pointed it at the woman behind Ikari and fired, blowing a hole through her shoulder. The woman yelped, turned and Ongaku silenced her with a bullet to head.
Ikari wiped crimson from his forehead, flicking open the revolver's cartridge and slipping six fresh rounds into it. The sickly scent of gun powder and iron stained the smoky air around them. Ongaku dodged a growing pool of blood, her sandals exchanged now for worn but sturdy boots. Ikari snapped the revolver's cartridge back in place.
"Things have a gotten a bit out of hand," he muttered. Five corpses lay scattered around them.
"You think?" Ongaku spat, "Half the towns going to be filling the earth before this night is done."
"I don't care, as long as we find our sister." Ongaku sighed, she couldn't argue with that.
"We need to find her first, and-" she checked the rifle, empty, "We need more gear."
"I know."
"You have a plan then? Hot headed brother of mine?"
"Yes, Amika."
"Oh, she's not going to like this."
"You have a better idea?"
Ongaku shrugged, Ikari was right. Amika was their best shot.
"They're over there! Get them!" The voice came from down the street, still distant enough that Ongaku couldn't make out its source, or how many people where rushing behind it.
"For fucks sake," Ikari muttered. The siblings exchanged a look. Then they ran.
Sakura charged Mysemi, sword raised.
"What are you doing?" Mysemi said, stepping aside. The wooden blade smashed into the microwave—glass sprayed across the counter in a jagged fan.
"Get out of my house!" Sakura screamed, swinging again for Mysemi's head.
Mysemi ducked, grainy wood whirring past her hair. She shoved Sakura in the chest—hard enough to send her staggering against the fridge. A cascade of magnets rattled as Sakura scrambled back, eyes wild, spit flying from her mouth.
Sakura screeched, lashing out with a low slash at Mysemi's knees. Mysemi hopped clear, feet slipping on tile, then kicked out—sharp and precise—toppling Sakura before she could recover.
Sakura hit the floor with a grunt, sword clattering on the ground,
"Are you nuts?" Mysemi spat, closing the distance. She grabbed Sakura's arm and yanked her to her feet. The granite corner lashed her cheek, spitting specks of blood across the black surface.
Sakura wrenched free, dove for the fallen sword—but Mysemi was faster. She kicked it sending it hopping across the floor.. Sakura howled and spun, fists swinging blind. Mysemi blocked one punch, then the other, forearms ringing with impact.
"Why won't you leave!" Sakura cried, stepping back. She raised her bleeding fist, eyes glittering with tears.
Mysemi feinted left, caught Sakura's ribs with a savage elbow, and Sakura buckled. Her head snapped back and collided with the corner of the granite counter—hard enough that her vision went white, then red.
Sakura's scream cut off in a broken gurgle. Her knees crumpled, and she slid to the floor in a limp heap, unconscious before her body hit the tiles. Mysemi stood over her, chest heaving.
Ding! The broken microwave beeped.
"Oh!" Mysemi spun, tearing at the shattered door.
Izuna and Ezra walked down the dimly lit street, the backs of their hands brushing as they walked.
"This is nice," said Ezra.
"Yeah, it is," Izuna stopped, "Ezra, there's something I want to tell you." Ezra stopped and turned to him. Izuna's heart raced, so fast he felt like it might burst.
"What is it?"
"I..," Izuna looked past her and frowned, "Uh…"
"What Izuna?"
"Sakura's window is broken,"
"What?" Ezra whirled around. Screaming came from inside the house and soon after a crash. Izuna looked back at Ezra and they both ran for the front door, Izuna threw open the door and charged inside stopping at the kitchen.
"Is she okay?" asked Ezra, she stopped next to him and pocked her head over his shoulder. Mysemi stood over Sakura, she was lying unconscious on the floor, her wooden sword a few paces away.
"Who, are you?" asked Izuna,
"Hmm?" Mysemi paused, there was a steaming tin of food in her hand, her mouth stuffed with food. Cheeks filled like a squirrel. She swallowed.
"I could ask you the same thing. Just barging into my house like that. Wait aren't you...Izuna?"
"Huh? Do I know you?" Izuna shook his head, "Never mind that, this isn't your house!"
"Yes it-" Mysemi stopped herself, and scanned the room, "I...I suppose it isn't."
Sakura moaned and raised her head. "Oh, shush!" shouted Mysemi kicking her.
"No, you don't!" Izuna growled. He stepped in front of Mysemi as she turned, cocked his fist back past his head and thrust it forward contacting her face hard enough to break the skin. Mysemi stumbled back into the microwave, her eyes rolled up and she collapsed next to Sakura. Izuna bent down and cupped Sakura's head.
"Sakura are you okay?" He asked.
"Izuna?" she mumbled, "Yeah...I'm ow."
"What happened here?" asked Ezra.
"That thing broke in here and attacked me!" she replied pointing at Mysemi.
Mysemi pushed herself up against the cupboard and glared at Sakura.
"What?" said Mysemi "That's not-"
"I have just about had enough of you!" said Izuna, he stood up and kicked her head into the cabinet, she slumped up against it unconscious.
"Enough Izuna!" Screamed Ezra
"Everybody should bow down to you and for what?" he spat back at her, "Just because you're Kushina's second in command doesn't mean you're any better than the rest of us!"
Ezra stood in silence, her face twisted in pain, then anger.
"Oh" Ezra cracked her knuckles, "You want to fight now?"
Izuna didn't want to fight, he hadn't meant what he said. But his blood was much too hot to back down now.
"Gladly," said Izuna clenching his fists.
"Just stop it both of you!" said Sakura "You're friends you shouldn't fight."
"Big words from the person who fought with me the most," Said Izuna "You know what? Figure out your own problems!" Izuna stormed out slamming the door behind him for the second time that night.
"Damn it," he muttered head down, "I've really gone and done it now."
"Watch where you're going!" came a voice, manly and deep. Izuna stepped back, just missing bumping into the man. The man turned, looked at him, and stopped.
"Brother?" he said.
"Huh?" asked Izuna frowning, "The hell you mean brother?"
"Ikari we don't have time for this," Izuna followed the voice, a pretty woman, short, wearing a kimono, and…boots? Izuna was sure he had seen her around, Seigaku something, Ongaku, he wasn't sure. He had never seen the man, Ikari, but he seemed familiar.
"Get them!" bellowed a burly man, sweat matting his face, he pointed at the trio, behind him a dozen or so men. Men Izuna recognized, Kushina's men. Toting rifles, shotguns, and pistols.
"What in the ever loving fu-"
Ikari sighed, lifted his revolver at the approaching army, and fired.