Young and Sweet

Junko’s trembling arms wrap firmly around Jiro’s upper body as she attempts to suppress the tremors running rampant throughout his system. His hands have fallen to the floor, where the empty pistol lays abandoned on the hardwood beneath it. With his breathing shallow and ragged, the confused and hopeless tears idling in Jiro’s eyes spill from his ducts and paint his rosy cheeks as they escape.

His eyes never stray from the object of his fury: Mamoru Fukumoto. The pathetic father remains tied to the same wooden chair, and his eyes never unveil any emotion of empathy or regret as he stares back at the collapsed Jiro on the floor. The ignited city lights illuminating from the substantial windows behind Mamoru pronounce the man’s humiliating silhouette, and the lights cast shadows that lurch upon Jiro’s fallen figure.

“Jiro…” Junko whispers into Jiro’s shoulder, “Please, stop.” Jiro’s eyes fall from Junko’s father and land upon the floorboards, as he attempts to stabilize his breath and heart beat. From near the living room, Daku begins stepping back into the scene with caution, and his eyes peel wide as he analyzes the bullet holes scattered around the apartment.

Drifting his gaze onto Jiro, Daku swallows the saliva sitting on his tongue. “I don’t get it,” He says in disbelief, his voice barely above a whisper, “How is it so easy for you? How can you just… grab the gun and-and start… shooting like that?!”

Daku grabs his own gun from his holster, and observes it in his hands - glancing over the metallic item in his grasp with a profound and stupefied expression on his face. “It took me years to be able to look someone dead in the eye, and shoot them with full intent in harming them. And you… you guys do it without even thinking!”

Junko raises her head from her best friend’s shoulder, and blinks up at Daku from the floor. At her movement, Daku moves his own eyes to her tear-stained face. Bringing his eyebrows together, he begins shaking his head incredulously at the girl.

“I should kill you, you know,” Daku declares, his voice deep and serious as he stares at Junko, “You… you killed my Dad! You killed him, you killed that guy in the alley, and… who knows how many other people you’ve murdered! I-I’m a high-ranking police officer, I should arrest you, and have you executed without a single thought!”

Stepping up to Junko, Daku bends at his knees and clutches his pistol in his dominant hand. Thrusting the barrel beneath her chin, Daku aggressively lifts her head up, resting the bottom of her jaw on the cold, metallic weapon. As he stares at her empty, despairing face, Daku squints angrily at the sight.

“I should kill you… but I can’t,” Daku admits, his frustrated voice coming out in a raspy breath, “Why can’t I, Junko? Even when I have every reason to do so. Tell me, please tell me. How can you kill innocent people without a second thought, but I can’t kill a guilty murderer without any doubts or regrets?”

Junko’s eyes drift South as her gaze lands on Daku’s close proximity. Swallowing a sob, Junko’s dry lips part. “I didn’t know… that they were innocent, Daku,” Junko argues, her voice sorrowful and full of regret as she stares at the officer before her, “After learning the truth, I don’t think… I’m worth salvaging anymore. I’m… dirty. I’m sickening. I’m-”

“That’s exactly it, Junko!” Daku interrupts, his voice high and unbelieving, “You are none of those things. You are a person with hopes and dreams, Junko! You were manipulated… by this pathetic excuse for a father!” Daku stands straight in a swift motion, and turns his body towards the seated man behind him.

Mamoru’s wearied, sapped gaze lounges against the floorboards - paying no attention to Daku and his insult. This only infuriates Daku more, and he marches over in fury to the greasy, exhausted man. “Look up, damnit!” Daku orders, roughly gripping Mamoru’s chin to pull his eyes up and off of the floor, “Look at what you’ve done to these two! You ruined them, and everyone else you’ve ever met!”

Mamoru’s eyes shift to Junko and Jiro’s disintegrated position on the floor a ways ahead of him. The bags weighing down his tear ducts possess shadows that darken and intensify his lifeless demeanor. His blinks are exhaustingly slow, for his eyelids are far too heavy for him to control at a normal pace.

“There’s nothing left to do. Nothing left to say. Only to accept what happens next, as consequence of our actions,” Mamoru rasps out bounty, not offering any apology to the immense damage he brought onto his daughter, his son, and their best friends. Daku’s face draws in pure anger, and he bares his teeth at the pointless rebuttal.

Raising his hand, Daku strikes the aging man across the face with a fierce and harsh slap. The momentum would have pushed Mamoru’s head to the side, but Daku’s strong grip on his jaw keeps his head in place. “There is no ‘our’ in this situation, you bastard!” Daku yells, pulling Mamoru’s face so their eyes meet, “All of this, everything is your fault! No matter what you ignore, no matter who you try to blame, everything is your fault.”

Mamoru squints his brown eyes at Daku, and his face burns the outline of the officer’s handprint. “You know nothing, you son of a bitch,” Mamoru barks back in debate.

“You don’t understand what this kind of life is like! I never wanted it to be like this! The moment you try to escape, there will be people on your ass, trying to kill you - because they think you’re gonna rat them out to the police because they hired an assassin! Every night, I rest with one eye open, praying to God someone doesn’t break my door down, and suffocate me in my sleep!”

“You’re the one that put yourself in this position!” Junko yells from the floor, her voice shrill and deep at the same time, and it scratches the wooden floors as it travels through the air.

“And when you found yourself cornered, you dragged your sixteen year old daughter and her little friends into your mess! You’re pathetic, and I hate you so fucking much!” Just then, a loud, metallic clamor is heard from the television, and the individuals in Mamoru’s apartment thrust their attention to the display.

At headquarters, Yuuto and Kagome snap their gaze to the loud noise intruding into the apartment. Following their movement, the five officers scattered throughout the room immediately look towards the root of the sound. Everyone’s eyes lay upon the metal entryway, and they watch as the door begins to aggressively and obtrusively swing open.

The officers all point their rifles at the opening doorway, and hover their index fingers over their respective triggers. Kagome and Yuuto watch with fearful eyes, and their hearts beat with worry for whomever is entering the apartment unwarrantedly. Yuuto’s hands sweat as they lay over each other and behind his back - clasped by the metal cuffs screwed around his wrists.

The tension in the air is so potent, that one could see it with the naked eye. A dread - an unbearable and inescapable dread - weighs on Kagome and Yuuto’s tense shoulders. Kagome’s breath slips past her lips in hollow, stiff intervals, and her gaze pierces through the thick air and trains upon the entryway before her.

Then, as if fate had it written out for him, Niko Fukumoto pushes himself into the foyer of the apartment. His eyes hold a scary mixture of helplessness and fear, while his deep breaths ricochet against the walls of the surrounding room upon his entrance. Niko’s blonde hair swims behind him as he thrusts himself through the doorway, and beads of sweat fall from the flying strands.

“Kagome, Yuuto!” Niko shouts, not yet noticing the situation he has thrown himself into, “Ren… he needs your help! I can’t… I couldn’t help him…” Through his ragged intakes of oxygen, Niko’s eyes finally drift to the officers surrounding him, as well as the position Kagome and Yuuto find themselves in.

His confused and petrified gaze takes in his friends’ own defenseless and dreadful ones. Niko stands to his full height, while his right arm remains extended outwards to keep the metal door open beside him. “Yuuto… Kagome…”

“Niko!” Kagome screeches from the pits of her stomach, fear lacing every morsel of her being. Equally as scared as Kagome, Yuuto voices his concern in a roaring yell, “Run! Get the hell out of-”

“Open fire!” Officer Kiyama shouts to his subordinate officers, allowing them to shoot down the intruder.

Stumbling backwards, Niko’s eyes stay wide as he begins to turn his body around - ready to sprint back down the stairs he just appeared from. However, the quick release of the bullets surpasses Niko’s reflexes, and the fierce propulsion of the shots greet him right in the doorway.

“Niko!” Kagome and Yuuto’s voice screams out in a shrill synchronization.

The bullets collide against Niko’s skin, and enter his unprepared body with a force that moves his position backwards - underneath the frame of the metal door. His once petrified expression fades into one of sour realization, and the overwhelming feeling of helplessness swims through the air and reaches his kneeling friends across the room.

“Stop! Stop shooting!”
“Please, enough, God!”
“Niko! Please, stop!”

“Enough! Stop it, please!”

The shots never cease despite the two’s begging and pleading, and they continue piercing the young boy’s body in rapid succession. Niko’s feet hit the ledge of the apartment floor, and the old, wooden steps behind him await his fall. With his whole body limp in pain and shock, the only thing keeping him standing is the constant propulsion of the bullets entering his numb body.

The roar from the bullets protruding out of the respective rifles takes over Niko’s hearing, and combines with the sound of his own fading heartbeat. A pulse once erratic from fear and powerlessness now quiets as the blood begins seeping out of the holes pierced into his skin.

The floor comes out from beneath him as the bullets push him further into the door frame, and Niko begins falling into the vacancy of the staircase behind him. “Niko! Stop! Please!” Kagome and Yuuto’s shrieks and pleads combine, but are drowned out by the blaring noise of the bullets puncturing the open air.

His arms involuntarily flail in front of his body, and his wide, fearful eyes drag over the shadowy ceiling as his body falls into the floor-less space below him. As if in slow motion, Niko’s body floats in the air - the bullets still pushing him back to a defenseless retreat - and accepts the fate gifted to him in that very moment.

Instantly, Niko’s body soars downwards, and collides with the impending staircase beneath his falling body. Limply, Niko tumbles down the rickety steps with a loud clamor, and lays unconscious at the base of the old staircase. A multitude of unwarranted bullet holes cover his young skin, and a deep, red blood begins spilling from the circular wounds.

Tears streaming down his face, Yuuto chokes out a blood-curdling sob that pricks the ear drums of the surrounding individuals. Kagome - too stricken in shock to even think about crying - stares at the hole-shredded doorway, and her mouth twitches as her bottom lip begins to quiver in shock.

In Mamoru’s apartment, not a word has been spoken since that initial sound of the metal door opening. From the floor, Junko and Jiro stare wide-eyed at the screen - watching Kagome and Yuuto’s expressions with a severe and vigorous intent. Junko’s hand squeezes Jiro’s forearm beside her, and her grip squeezes his skin in an unintentionally aggressive manner.

From outside the apartment, Yuuto's car idles half upon the sidewalk, and half upon the street below. The keys are still twisted in the ignition, and the driver-side door remains thrashed open. In the back seat, Ren Jin lays against the cloud-like material, and his eyes drift to a close as the blood from his chest pours from his body.