Chapter 8: Turf Wars

[mp_npc]

Even though it was nearly 6pm, the sun was still relatively high in the sky compared to just the month prior. The days were getting longer and the air was getting warmer. With the heat brought energy--especially in the particular stretch where Teru had asked Mob to meet up. It was in the southeastern district of Seasoning City, an especially dense urban stretch near the freeway bordering on the industrial part of the city.

Factories and and their smokestacks were in the near distance. Workers in uniform were shuffling about with purpose, disappearing in and out of the narrow alleys that snaked through that part of town likes veins. The scent of street food was strong. There was one food stand that Teru asked Mob to wait near in particular, one with especially good yakitori. A gust of wind carried the delicious smokey glazed scent of it--along with laughter and jeers from one of the alleyways just behind Mob.

"Hey, ain't that a Salt uniform?" A boy jeered as his friends formed a loose-but-coordinated semi-circle behind Mob. Their own uniforms were a rusty red with enormously tacky gold buttons down the center.

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[mp_simplyacommoner]

'Two of them.' Mob was back on the ground. Teru's heart dropped into his stomach. He should have killed the first one when he still had a clean shot.

The second one met Teru's eyes. His hand went somewhere. Teru was back on the defensive and--

FWOOSH

Teru twisted his body and there was suddenly blood in his vision--his own. He couldn't see anything. There was dust and debris filling his nose and his mouth--whatever the second one had done had kicked up a thick shroud of it. He couldn't see and he could barely breathe. Pain was spreading out from his cheek--he had gotten wounded somewhere there, but he didn't know how badly.

'Don't panic. Don't panic.' He told himself over and over. Even if he couldn't see, he could still sense. He reminded himself of that and and held onto trust in himself because there was nothing else to do. He could feel it--he could feel Mob. He reached out his hand and willed his friend to him. Mob's body collided with his and Teru grappled him for dear life. He was dead weight in his arms, but he was alive.

FWOOSH

One of the buildings groaned loudly above them. There was even more screaming from the other kids. Teru resisted the urge to just get himself and Mob to cover as quickly as possible--he should have done a lot of things that day, but there was one more thing he could do. He still knew which way was which, unlike the others--he thrust out his hand and blew the crowd of them into the street just in time for them to avoid being crushed by the building collapsing on them all in a heap.

--

Koyama hoisted the brat--Shigeo Kageyama, whatever the hell his name was--onto his shoulder. All the others had cleared out. He spat onto the pile of rubble. He couldn't sense any of them anymore. He could only hope they'd been crushed like good little whelps.

"I've secured the others from the Awakening Lab," Sakurai couldn't fully keep the contempt out of his voice as he said it. "This was messy. Division Leader Ishiguro won't be happy."

"You don't have to tell me that!" Koyama roared.

Unfazed, Sakura sheathed his sword. "Gather your ear. If we're quick they can staple it back on at headquarters."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Grabbed it before you buried it, frickin' Four-Eyes..."