Post by Fukushu on Sept 24, 2022 7:41:04 GMT -5
~21 years ago~
A lot changed in just a year. One year ago the Heran Fukushu was locked in a life or death struggle against his rival Niku, nearly coming out in the losing end if not for the intervention of his friend and trusted confidant Wakita. Now Niku lay dead and most of what he controlled had been absorbed either directly by Fukushu or by his own boss, Korosu. After taking over the distillery Fukushu decided that it would be a much more defensible position and thus that's where he decided to move his base of operations, building a tertiary building in the left of the courtyard where the Mercs had set up their tents.
Of course the employees and owner of the distillery weren't too happy with that situation, and so Korosu forcibly brought them up, feeling comfortable to do so now that there was no risk of Niku, or anyone else for that fact, taking it back. Quickly their numbers swelled as they rolled up the smaller organizations, which were put to good use by Fukushu as he now controlled what could be described as a small private army, though he knew better than to think like that.
Most weren't really his to control; they belonged to Korosu. He only considered a small fraction of group truly loyal to him, namely Itami, Kuru, Osorea and Wakita. Those four were the ones that Fukushu surrounded himself with, as he felt increasingly uncomfortable with the people that Korosu was sending to him. Everyday people he knew vanished from work, being replaced by someone else that he had never heard nor seen before, and he was always told the exact same thing when Fukushu asked where they had come from: Korosu sent us to help out. He never asked for more help, yet they still came.
More and more he was beginning to feel like a bit of an outsider within his own organizations, as though the ones he trusted were the ones chosen to be replaced. Fukushu had grown more as a manager by now, and he could see the writing on the wall: Korosu didn't trust him. Perhaps he never trusted him to begin with, and only used him as he saw an opportunity to exploited. Or perhaps it was fear that was motivating him now?
Fukushu felt he had done a fine job of running things, and his soldiers worked hard for him. Useful, but dangerous for a man in Korosu's position, so he could hardly be blamed for feeling afraid. Fukushu couldn't deny that he was ambitious though; would he take out Korosu if the opportunity presented itself? Probably yes, but he hadn't shown any of that to him.
Over the last few months the paranoia shone through even more, as the young Heran warrior found much of his territory divided and distributed to other, lesser soldiers risen up to a similar rank as his own. First when the old blaster manufactory, then many of the smaller businesses which Fukushu's gang had extracted protection money from. The distillery was still the most profitable business in the region, and under the direct control of Fukushu had exceeded expectations.
In the time of relative peace he was able to use his men as excess labor, which greatly boosted production. Safer streets also meant it was easier to import raw materials, which also helped. Of course Korosu was likely looking to move it away from Fukushu as well, though it being the young boy's base of operations made it rather impossible to do so inconspicuously. When the day came that Korosu made his intentions known, Fukushu would be ready.
One day upon returning from a supply trip Fukushu found himself looking upon many new faces. Generally the men that Korosu sent to him were trustworthy enough, but the looks they gave him as Fukushu made his way over to the office made him feel more uncomfortable than he'd like to admit, as though they were all in on something that they refused to tell. As he entered his office he found an unfamiliar boy sitting in his seat.
"Excuse me? I think you have the wrong place, boy. The name's Fukushu, and I'm in charge of operations around here. You best be on your way before something goes wrong here." The boy looked at him with a calm face, letting Fukushu's words hang for a few moments before finally responding. "No, I think you are the one who is mistaken, Fukushu. I know all about you, and about your operations. I've come to make sure things get back on track."
Fukushu had no response to that. Back on track? As far as he understood business had been far better than expected; there was certainly nothing to be worried about. "Back on track? You mind explaining that one to me? Since I've taken over the distillery business has been booming." Uragi stood out of his seat and slowly approached the much larger Heran.
At first he thought an attack might be coming, but instead the boy extended his arm and offered a handshake, which Fukushu reluctantly accepted. Uragi gave him a firm shake before stepping back away from him and approaching a nearby window, taking a view out to the courtyard before continuing. "I'm afraid the Korosu sees things very differently. While he admires the way you were able to so cleanly take over the business, he's been disappointed with your management."
Uragi stepped away from the window, and walked back over to the desk which lay in the center of the room. There he opened up a folder and spread it's contents out across the desktop. "While it's true that business has improved our employer fails to see how you can take credit for this. Korosu believes that the main reason why productively has gone up is thanks to the increase in safety among the streets, due to crime taken a sudden downturn in recent times. On top of that your idea to train the guards up so that they may operate the machinery was well received, but Korosu deemed it something that anyone could have thought of; hardly worthy of praise is how he put it."
Fukushu could barely believe the insult. Korosu would question his good results without even having the stomach to face him in person? He really was paranoid, and this would be his excuse to finally get rid of him. "The reason why the streets are so much cleaner today than before is because of my work cleaning them! It was my and my squad which rolled up most of the smaller gangs into Korosu's network; I don't get any credit for that?"
Uragi pondered for a few moments before replying. "I can't no deny the truth to your words, but they lack context. You did help us absorb a number of smaller organizations during a chaotic period, but what you were in truth was a hurricane. You whirled through the streets on a destructive path, killing many when Korosu specifically asked for them to be recruited. Many other men were forced to be reassigned so that leadership could be restored. Korosu views the efforts of these men as more important as your own; any man can be a butcher, but not every man can led as these ones have."
He couldn't deny that he had been a bit overzealous at times. It was much easier to simply take out rivals that to negotiate with them; plus he figured it would be easier to absorb the organizations himself if he took out the leadership. He had never expected that Korosu would split the territory up in the way he had, greatly weakening each man in this loose, decentralization system. He probably should have seen it coming, but being on top felt too good to him; the comfort had blinded him.
"So what exactly are you telling me here?" Fukushu moved over to Uragi, getting uncomfortably close to him. He watched the boy closely, to see how he'd react, but he could tell that Uragi was no fighter, and he wasn't looking for any sort of trouble here today. As soon as Fukushu moved in Uragi stepped away, back over to the window. "You don't have anything to worry about if that's what you're asking; like I said I'm just here to assist in running things. Korosu values your loyalty and effort."
Fukushu rummaged through the papers not scattered across the desk. It was all accounting crap; turn over, gross output, dividends and that sort of thing. He didn't really care to go through much or anything of it at this time; he was more concerned about how to get Uragi out of here and out of his life. "Well, why don't you fix whatever problems you see with our business, then you can leave. Simple enough right?"
An uncomfortable silence lingered for a moment, broken by Uragi speaking up again. "Well, actually, it's a bit more complicated than that. I said that Korosu values your loyalty and effort... he wants to make sure that your talents are being put to good use. Management... may not be what's best for you in the end. I'm here to evaluate your suitability for the job, and if... if I find that you aren't suitable to continue running the distillery then you will be... moved to a more, suitable, position."
There it was. As much as he tried to hide it in the beginning, Fukushu was being replaced. Of course this assessment was all a load of crap. No matter what the results were; no matter what this Uragi thought of him it didn't matter. Fuksuhu wasn't opposed to working out on the front lines; it was something he greatly enjoyed doing, and continued to do so from time to time even these days, but he wasn't going to be a cog in someone else's machine. He saw himself as climbing to the top of the ladder, and now Korosu had put himself in the way of that goal.
Fuksuhu didn't want to continue this conversation any further. He was able ready to crush Uragi's skull while making up some nonsense story to cover his tracks, but the fact that neither Wakita nor any of his squad mates had come to his office in all this time had begun to worry him. He expected to see them all at least a few times a day, and so he far he couldn't recall seeing any of them yet. It wasn't like them not to report in like this.
"My crew... you wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" Once again a silence took over the room, Uragi seemed less comfortable answering each question Fukushu had for him. "Wakita has shown a bright future, especially with technology. He's assisting me on some work and will be out of touch for a few days. As for your crew... well, they've been sent out on a combat task. Korosu has a problem he needs resolved and he thought they were the best to handle it."
His crew? Korosu needed to use his crew? Fukushu didn't like anything about this situation. He quickly approached Uragi now, grabbing a hold of his collar before the runt could get away, throwing him into the wall next to the window and moving his hands up around his throat. In some ways he was giving Korosu exactly what he wanted with an outburst like this, but he didn't care right now. "Korosu is giving orders to my squad now? Who the Hell does he think he is?"
Uragi fought to try and pry the fingers off of his throat, but the young boy was hardly a match for Fukushu. It was only the curiosity of hearing what he had to say which caused Fukushu to loosen up a bit. "They're... not yours... everyone belongs to... Korosu!" The low blow came quicker than Fukushu could anticipated, dropping him to the floor and forcing his grip away from Uragi's neck. The boy quickly moved away, whistling for a few guards to enter the room.
Fukushu wanted to fight over to him, but was quickly overpowered and pushed down to the floor. "Korosu will hear about this; don't you worry." He turned to the leader of the guards, and ordered Fukushu out with a venomous scowl drenched across his face. "Go blow off some steam while you're out there; maybe you can do us some good while you're at it." The three men pulled Fukushu back up, opened the door to the office and threw him out like a piece of trash.
His head slammed into the nearest wall, his forehead now bleeding thanks to an opened wound. He wanted to throw himself back in there and take the lot of them on, but he knew that Uragi had things temporarily under control. Even if he were to finish those four off there were two of three dozen men outside who'd come running in after them. No doubt Uragi had made sure to let each and every one of them know who was really in charge when he had arrived; their loyalty couldn't be trusted.
He should have made greater efforts to keep around him those that he could trust, but that didn't matter now. Whatever Korosu had planned for him Fukushu would just have to deal with it and move on. For the immediate future he decided to go ahead and follow Uragi's advice and pursue some street level work. He was pissed with what was going on, and he needed to find his wits if he were to keep his job. A nice score would help to get his mind back on focus.
He rushed through the courtyard of the distillery, trying to do his best to avoid showing any of the emotions he had just been threw, using his hard to cover the blood across his face. The streets outside the distillery were the ones he knew best, but they were also off limits to him. The only people who bothered to walk around here unprotected were those who were affiliated with Korosu and the gang; attacking them would only get himself in deeper trouble.
The city as a whole had gone through some what of a turnaround. Crime was bad for a city, but it was at it's worst when competing factions were fighting each other. When you had a single hegemon... well, that made things more comfortable. It wasn't just the streets around the distillery that were safer now; Korosu's influence must have covered half the city by now. Every street he passed had a thug or two that he recognized, collecting 'protection' money from some small business.
That protection money meant protection from them, and that included Fukushu. He had to admit that Korosu had done well to turn his gang into such a well oiled machine; Niku never came close to this level of control. He had to walk near two hours until he found territory not directly controlled by the man, where the streets had a certain level of uneasiness that he had missed; not the backstabbing kind, but the in your face, life or death battle kind.
It was down one of these streets that he finally found what looked to be a good target. The man was clearly quite old as he wrinkles stood out to Fukushu even as he stood a good distance away. He moved in a proud manor, which told the young Heran that he was likely rich, perhaps even carrying a lot of money on him. It'd be foolish to do so in this sort of street, but age often slowed the mind quicker than the body. Even if he weren't carrying he could still force the man to take him to his home.
As the old man moved closer Fukushu decided to pounce. He figured that in one quick effort he'd be able to take him and rob him blind, but that wouldn't be how things would go. Instead of overpowering the man Fuksuhu found himself slammed into the ground, with his target quickly throwing his knee down onto Fukushu's throat, cutting off his breathing. Before he could even react the old man placed Fukushu's left arm across his knee, and wrenched down on it with all his strength, stepping it at the elbow. Fukushu tried to scream out in pain, but with the knee still placed down on his throat he instead lost consciousness.
A few moments later and the young Heran awoke. The pain hit him quickly, and he tried again to scream. This time the old man let him, as he stood over and watched Fukushu try to climb back to his feet. A swift kick knocked him back down, and Fukushu was forced to accept the situation as it was. "What... what the Hell do you want with me?" He could have left safely while he was unconsciousness, and yet he chose to stay and wait for Fukushu to wake up.
"I think the better question is what did you want with me? Why did you try and attack me? Have I wrong you in some way? I don't believe we've ever meet before, so speak up quickly boy, before I lose whatever pity I have and break the other arm." How was he supposed to answer that without enraging him any further? No, wait... the man didn't speak with any rage at all. In fact he was incredibly calm all things considering.
At that moment Fukushu realized that he was dealing with a solider, one that had seen real action. He broke the boys arm without a second thought, and now he was interrogating him. "I... I was trying to rob you; is that not obvious? You seemed to have wealth on you, and when traveling these parts alone... well, you should have known better." That made him laugh, but it also earned Fuksuhu another kick to the gut. He rolled over onto his stomach, to try and shield himself and to hide the shame in defeat that was plastered across his face, but the old man walked around him and sat down, forcing Fukushu's eyes to meet his own.
"What a fool you are. You thought that just because I'm an old man you'd be able to easily defeat me, huh? And you never even considered that I may have been hiding my true power? I suppose you never had proper training, right? Learned to fight on the streets judging by your sneak attack. Cowards fight from the shadows, not warriors." He grabbed a hold of Fukushu's bright orange hair and pulled his head up off the ground.
"Your insolence is what earned you position here. And for what? Common thievery. You're not the first boy I've seen act this way, and I doubt you'll be the last. Don't you think you're better than that? I could have killed if I wanted to; you really want to die so some scumbag crime 'lord' can add another pouch to the collection? Come on, kid; you've got your whole life ahead of you. Imagine what you could do if you actually managed to apply yourself."
Who the Hell did this guy think he was? Fukushu wasn't interested in any kind of lecturing; right now all he cared about was escaping his grasp so he could bring his crew back to kick his ass. He tried to wriggle free, but as soon as the old man felt what was going on he slammed Fukushu's face into the pavement. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said? Are you too stupid to realize what kind of situation you've gotten yourself into?"
Fukushu rolled his face to the side and spat out a glob of blood on the feet of the old man. "Who are you? And what do you want with me? Can't you just leave me alone?" The old man looked down at him for a while before finally releasing his grasp. Fukushu thought he had found his opportunity to escape, but before he could pick himself up off the pavement the old man had quickly sat himself on top of Fukushu, forcing him back on the ground.
"My name is Haji. I don't expect that you've ever heard it before, but there was a time not so long ago when many people feared that name. Like most of our kind I spent my youth as a mercenary, and none did that job better than I. I served on Plant, on Earth and on many other planets you've probably never heard of before, fighting more species that I can even recall. Thousands died by my hand, until eventually I decided to retire. Most who choose that path do so because they're wounded, and many others instead never get the chance as they fall in battle. Me on the other hand... I made my choice because I couldn't stomach the work any more."
Like Haji, Fukushu had expected to at some point work as a mercenary. It was good pay if you were strong enough, and Fukushu knew that he was strong enough. When the situation with Niku and Korosu all came up at once he thought that perhaps management would be how things turned out instead, but he could now see that those kind would never accept him. If he wanted to be in charge of anything he'd need to back himself, and for that he'd need plenty of money.
"You know what it's like to kill that many people? I dare not think of it any more... but the memories still haunt me. It's not just the blood of enemies on my hands either; the blood of friends who I sent to a pointless death for a pointless battle. Its much harder to ignore those memories, as much as I may try to. That's why I left it all behind, and came back to Hera to try and change the fate of those who would think to follow in my footsteps. There are far too many boys like you, boys like myself who think that the life of a mercenary is something to look up to; that our people can achieve nothing more than to be the best killers in the universe. I thought I could change that."
Fukushu let out a laugh. "Seems like you failed." Hera's reputation for being a planet of crime and wastes were well earned, but the people cared little to change that. Fukushu's remark earned him a shot to the liver. "I'm not finished. As I was saying... I thought I could change that, and fortunately I wasn't alone. There were others like me; others who thought we better than this. They were tough to find, and tough to trust, but eventually we formed a plan we all agreed on."
The boy had to admit that he was somewhat curious where all of this was going now. "We thought we could install our own government; something free of corruption and powerful enough to make a real difference. This city was where it all started, and at first things seemed to go well. We overthrew the governor and installed our own provisional government... and that was when Hell broke loose. The old governor had about a hundred different petty lords to answer to, and as soon as they had heard what had happened to him... they make it known how they felt about things."
Haji paused for a moment; something weighed heavy on him, as he seemed to struggle with what came next. "We... we weren't prepared for the attacks. We thought we had more support than we did; thought they had less than they did. I was still a great fighter, but my youth was quickly fading at that point. The others... weren't as gifted as I was. They fell sooner than I did, as hard as I fought to save them I... I failed them all eventually."
Haji surprised the young Heran by actually getting up off of him. The old Heran bent over and forcibly pulled Fukushu back up to his feet after that. "I survived, but with what? And for what? An old man with nothing else to offer is all that was left of me." Before Haji could continue Fukushu took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as he could in his state back to the distillery. Whatever the old man had left to say was no concern of his; he just wanted to get back to his squad.
Running through the unfamiliar streets with a broken arm was a stressful experience, but Fukushu knew most would likely recognize and avoid him. Eventually he made his way back to the distillery; hopefully he could get a hold of his squad mates and force them back. He was feeling more vulnerable than he ever had, and was desperate for faces he could trust. As he moved through the courtyard he attempted to hide his wounded arm as best he could, but that was no simple task.
The air around the courtyard seemed colder than it was before, and the faces seemed even less happy to see him this time around. There was a feeling of dread surrounding that place, and every instinct that Fukushu had told him that he should turn and run, and never look back, but still he pressed on to his office on the left, in the hopes of finding some document or recording that would tell him where his friends had gone. Even Wakita would be a welcome sight right about now, as useless as he'd be in a fight at least he was someone that Fukushu could trust.
He threw open the door, without any concern for what Uragi might think. He had not seen the boy out with the others which meant that he was still likely inside. He wasn't afraid of him though; even with one arm he still fancied his chances against him. When he pushed open the door to his private office he was shocked to see Korosu standing there, and next to him Uragi. He had a sad look on his face, which didn't bode well for Fuksuhu. The old man said nothing to his entrance; instead he snapped his fingers. Two large Herans entered the room and grabbed a hold of Fukushu, dragging him outside where Uragi followed shortly after.
The two Herans dragged Fukushu out of the building, out of the courtyard and even out of the distillery, with Uragi telling the workers and mercenaries alike not to worry about anything. "Just a small disagreement that we have to sort out. Everyone get back to work; this will be taken care of shortly." The two Herans carried Fukushu off a few blocks away from the distillery into a back alley that Fukushu didn't recognize, before throwing him down onto the pavement where landed on three bodies.
He instantly recognized the first body, belonging to his ally Osorea. He quickly examined the other two and believed that they belonged to Kuru and Itami, though without their heads he couldn't be sure; he was only able to identify Osorea by his familiar garments. "What have you done!?" Uragi stepped forward slowly and tapped one of the bodies with his foot.
"They showed a lot of promise, you know. I was very much hoping that we could have kept them on, but when I told them about what was going to happen... they were less that cooperative. It was to be them that killed you, so that they could prove their loyalty. At first they thought it was some kind of joke. When I insisted that I was serious they told me that they wanted no part of it. I couldn't risk them telling you or Korosu about my plan so... well, I think you get the picture."
Loyal to the end. He felt sorry that they had to meant their end like this, in some grimy alley and executed by what should have been allies. They should have died a warriors death, out in the battlefield somewhere... not like this. Fuksuhu tried to get back to his feet, but the two larger Herans stepped forward and shoved him back down, this time holding him in place so that he couldn't move. They rolled him onto his stomach and propped him up on top of the bodies.
"I wasn't sure at first whether or not Korosu would go along with my plan. You know he was quite fond of you. Afraid as well, but he was hoping that there would be some kind of peaceful solution to all of this. I insisted that this had to be done however; you're little more than a wild animal. Good for clearing out our enemies, but beyond that you're just a liability."
Uragi stepped forward, and from his arm he produced a blade of ki, and prepared it to slice through his neck. In his current condition Fuksuhu had no chance of fighting back; at best he could only try and wriggle away, but the two guards made sure to hold him tight against the cold corpse of Osorea. Uragi gently held the blade across the back of Fukushu's neck, so that it only slightly cut into his skin so that he could properly line up his slice. Then he brought his arm up over his head and threw it back down with all his force.
He expected the cold blade to take his head off in an instant; for death to be brought upon him right then and there, but instead there was nothing but a laugh. He turned his head and looked up at Uragi, who had a disgusted look on his face; it was the guards who were laughing. "In in the end Korosu couldn't go through with it though. He insisted that I let you go, so that you can live your life somewhere else. I hope this proves a strong enough message for you." Uragi delivered a swift kick to Fukushu's jaw, knocking the Heran unconscious.
He awoke within the black of night. Had it been a few hours, or a whole day? He couldn't tell. The burn across the back of his neck still ached even now, and his arm was still very much broken. The corpses of his squad still lay beneath his head, and where were their heads? He'd never know. He shimmed over to the nearest wall and used his good arm to pull himself up. That alone was a journey, leaving no doubt in his mind that he didn't have the strength to bury them.
Fukushu regretted what had happened, but he was only so sentimental about these things. They were dead, and he was still alive. He knelt down besides their bodies to say a few words before leaving. "Osorea, Itami, Kuru... I'm sorry I wasn't there to fight alongside you. I don't know the exact circumstances of what occurred but... I hope you went out fighting at least." When that was over he stood back up and now had to figure out where to go next.
He still had his home near the shore, though he hadn't actually been there in quite some time. He expected that someone else had likely captured it in all that time and made it his own, and he wasn't in any sort of mood to fight right now. His mind drifted to Wakita; what had happened to him? Was he in on all of this? He didn't dare think like that. He needed to have someone left in the world that he could trust; he'd find him later.
After Wakita the only person that came to mind was... was the old man from earlier. Hardly a friend; not even someone he knew, but it was the only other connection he had. He didn't even know where the old bastard lived, but what other choice did he have? Everything of value to him was at the distillery, and he'd never make it back there alive. With no other choices coming to mind Fukushu decided to head back to where he had met Haji, in the hopes of finding him again.
The walk back too much longer and was much more painful than the first time getting there, thanks to the many wounds his body now carried. He was forced to hold his arm in position without a proper sling, and even a slight gust of wind caused him pain. Moving his neck too much caused the cut from Uragi to split open, meaning even ten minutes or so he felt fresh blood rushing down his back. It must have taken three hours from where they had left him for Fukushu to make it back to the spot.
He could tell he was there based on blood stains left by Fukushu's face slamming into the pavement. Of course he found no trace of Haji who was long gone by now, but he never expected it to be that easy. Considering what Haji had said about himself, Fukushu expected that he wouldn't live somewhere that stood out. He was someone who had many enemies and thus he'd do his best to try and avoid detection. The houses that surrounded him didn't fit that criteria.
And so Fuksuhu followed in the opposite direction that he had seen Haji coming from, hoping that he might eventually find his home. It would have been much easier if he could sense Haji, but he had some sort of ability to hide that. He must have walked for another thirty minutes until he found some old rundown, government apartments. Everything as far as the eye could see looked exactly the same; the kind of place you'd go if you were on the run.
And so Fuksuhu got to work knocking on every single door, hoping that Haji would magically appear behind one of them. At least half of the homes were apparently empty, with no responses from his knocking. Most who did answer their doors wanted nothing to do with Fuksuhu, threatening to attack if the boy didn't go away. At the very least those ones gave him a voice to work with, but none were Haji. The few who actually opened their doors followed up on the threats, shoving or throwing punches at the wounded Fukushu. Helpless to defend himself he accepted whatever punishment came his way, picking himself back up and knocking on the next door.
He was about ready to give up on his stupid endeavor until he felt an arm sweep up against his back. In an instant he was thrown down to the ground, rolled onto his back and had a foot pressed down into his throat. "What the Hell you doing here, boy? You've come to try again have you?" Fuksuhu didn't answer. He was weak, he was tired and he was broken. He tried to get something out; anything to answer Haji, but nothing came.
"Well? Speak up, boy, before I lose my patience." Fukushu could now feel himself quickly losing consciousness. He wasn't sure whether it was the foot pressed into his throat or an accumulation of all his other wounds. Again he tried to open his mouth, to try and explain everything that had happened to him, but again nothing came out. Instead the young Heran closed his eyes and fell into unconsciousness, leaving himself in the hands of this stranger.
Of course the employees and owner of the distillery weren't too happy with that situation, and so Korosu forcibly brought them up, feeling comfortable to do so now that there was no risk of Niku, or anyone else for that fact, taking it back. Quickly their numbers swelled as they rolled up the smaller organizations, which were put to good use by Fukushu as he now controlled what could be described as a small private army, though he knew better than to think like that.
Most weren't really his to control; they belonged to Korosu. He only considered a small fraction of group truly loyal to him, namely Itami, Kuru, Osorea and Wakita. Those four were the ones that Fukushu surrounded himself with, as he felt increasingly uncomfortable with the people that Korosu was sending to him. Everyday people he knew vanished from work, being replaced by someone else that he had never heard nor seen before, and he was always told the exact same thing when Fukushu asked where they had come from: Korosu sent us to help out. He never asked for more help, yet they still came.
More and more he was beginning to feel like a bit of an outsider within his own organizations, as though the ones he trusted were the ones chosen to be replaced. Fukushu had grown more as a manager by now, and he could see the writing on the wall: Korosu didn't trust him. Perhaps he never trusted him to begin with, and only used him as he saw an opportunity to exploited. Or perhaps it was fear that was motivating him now?
Fukushu felt he had done a fine job of running things, and his soldiers worked hard for him. Useful, but dangerous for a man in Korosu's position, so he could hardly be blamed for feeling afraid. Fukushu couldn't deny that he was ambitious though; would he take out Korosu if the opportunity presented itself? Probably yes, but he hadn't shown any of that to him.
Over the last few months the paranoia shone through even more, as the young Heran warrior found much of his territory divided and distributed to other, lesser soldiers risen up to a similar rank as his own. First when the old blaster manufactory, then many of the smaller businesses which Fukushu's gang had extracted protection money from. The distillery was still the most profitable business in the region, and under the direct control of Fukushu had exceeded expectations.
In the time of relative peace he was able to use his men as excess labor, which greatly boosted production. Safer streets also meant it was easier to import raw materials, which also helped. Of course Korosu was likely looking to move it away from Fukushu as well, though it being the young boy's base of operations made it rather impossible to do so inconspicuously. When the day came that Korosu made his intentions known, Fukushu would be ready.
One day upon returning from a supply trip Fukushu found himself looking upon many new faces. Generally the men that Korosu sent to him were trustworthy enough, but the looks they gave him as Fukushu made his way over to the office made him feel more uncomfortable than he'd like to admit, as though they were all in on something that they refused to tell. As he entered his office he found an unfamiliar boy sitting in his seat.
"Excuse me? I think you have the wrong place, boy. The name's Fukushu, and I'm in charge of operations around here. You best be on your way before something goes wrong here." The boy looked at him with a calm face, letting Fukushu's words hang for a few moments before finally responding. "No, I think you are the one who is mistaken, Fukushu. I know all about you, and about your operations. I've come to make sure things get back on track."
Fukushu had no response to that. Back on track? As far as he understood business had been far better than expected; there was certainly nothing to be worried about. "Back on track? You mind explaining that one to me? Since I've taken over the distillery business has been booming." Uragi stood out of his seat and slowly approached the much larger Heran.
At first he thought an attack might be coming, but instead the boy extended his arm and offered a handshake, which Fukushu reluctantly accepted. Uragi gave him a firm shake before stepping back away from him and approaching a nearby window, taking a view out to the courtyard before continuing. "I'm afraid the Korosu sees things very differently. While he admires the way you were able to so cleanly take over the business, he's been disappointed with your management."
Uragi stepped away from the window, and walked back over to the desk which lay in the center of the room. There he opened up a folder and spread it's contents out across the desktop. "While it's true that business has improved our employer fails to see how you can take credit for this. Korosu believes that the main reason why productively has gone up is thanks to the increase in safety among the streets, due to crime taken a sudden downturn in recent times. On top of that your idea to train the guards up so that they may operate the machinery was well received, but Korosu deemed it something that anyone could have thought of; hardly worthy of praise is how he put it."
Fukushu could barely believe the insult. Korosu would question his good results without even having the stomach to face him in person? He really was paranoid, and this would be his excuse to finally get rid of him. "The reason why the streets are so much cleaner today than before is because of my work cleaning them! It was my and my squad which rolled up most of the smaller gangs into Korosu's network; I don't get any credit for that?"
Uragi pondered for a few moments before replying. "I can't no deny the truth to your words, but they lack context. You did help us absorb a number of smaller organizations during a chaotic period, but what you were in truth was a hurricane. You whirled through the streets on a destructive path, killing many when Korosu specifically asked for them to be recruited. Many other men were forced to be reassigned so that leadership could be restored. Korosu views the efforts of these men as more important as your own; any man can be a butcher, but not every man can led as these ones have."
He couldn't deny that he had been a bit overzealous at times. It was much easier to simply take out rivals that to negotiate with them; plus he figured it would be easier to absorb the organizations himself if he took out the leadership. He had never expected that Korosu would split the territory up in the way he had, greatly weakening each man in this loose, decentralization system. He probably should have seen it coming, but being on top felt too good to him; the comfort had blinded him.
"So what exactly are you telling me here?" Fukushu moved over to Uragi, getting uncomfortably close to him. He watched the boy closely, to see how he'd react, but he could tell that Uragi was no fighter, and he wasn't looking for any sort of trouble here today. As soon as Fukushu moved in Uragi stepped away, back over to the window. "You don't have anything to worry about if that's what you're asking; like I said I'm just here to assist in running things. Korosu values your loyalty and effort."
Fukushu rummaged through the papers not scattered across the desk. It was all accounting crap; turn over, gross output, dividends and that sort of thing. He didn't really care to go through much or anything of it at this time; he was more concerned about how to get Uragi out of here and out of his life. "Well, why don't you fix whatever problems you see with our business, then you can leave. Simple enough right?"
An uncomfortable silence lingered for a moment, broken by Uragi speaking up again. "Well, actually, it's a bit more complicated than that. I said that Korosu values your loyalty and effort... he wants to make sure that your talents are being put to good use. Management... may not be what's best for you in the end. I'm here to evaluate your suitability for the job, and if... if I find that you aren't suitable to continue running the distillery then you will be... moved to a more, suitable, position."
There it was. As much as he tried to hide it in the beginning, Fukushu was being replaced. Of course this assessment was all a load of crap. No matter what the results were; no matter what this Uragi thought of him it didn't matter. Fuksuhu wasn't opposed to working out on the front lines; it was something he greatly enjoyed doing, and continued to do so from time to time even these days, but he wasn't going to be a cog in someone else's machine. He saw himself as climbing to the top of the ladder, and now Korosu had put himself in the way of that goal.
Fuksuhu didn't want to continue this conversation any further. He was able ready to crush Uragi's skull while making up some nonsense story to cover his tracks, but the fact that neither Wakita nor any of his squad mates had come to his office in all this time had begun to worry him. He expected to see them all at least a few times a day, and so he far he couldn't recall seeing any of them yet. It wasn't like them not to report in like this.
"My crew... you wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" Once again a silence took over the room, Uragi seemed less comfortable answering each question Fukushu had for him. "Wakita has shown a bright future, especially with technology. He's assisting me on some work and will be out of touch for a few days. As for your crew... well, they've been sent out on a combat task. Korosu has a problem he needs resolved and he thought they were the best to handle it."
His crew? Korosu needed to use his crew? Fukushu didn't like anything about this situation. He quickly approached Uragi now, grabbing a hold of his collar before the runt could get away, throwing him into the wall next to the window and moving his hands up around his throat. In some ways he was giving Korosu exactly what he wanted with an outburst like this, but he didn't care right now. "Korosu is giving orders to my squad now? Who the Hell does he think he is?"
Uragi fought to try and pry the fingers off of his throat, but the young boy was hardly a match for Fukushu. It was only the curiosity of hearing what he had to say which caused Fukushu to loosen up a bit. "They're... not yours... everyone belongs to... Korosu!" The low blow came quicker than Fukushu could anticipated, dropping him to the floor and forcing his grip away from Uragi's neck. The boy quickly moved away, whistling for a few guards to enter the room.
Fukushu wanted to fight over to him, but was quickly overpowered and pushed down to the floor. "Korosu will hear about this; don't you worry." He turned to the leader of the guards, and ordered Fukushu out with a venomous scowl drenched across his face. "Go blow off some steam while you're out there; maybe you can do us some good while you're at it." The three men pulled Fukushu back up, opened the door to the office and threw him out like a piece of trash.
His head slammed into the nearest wall, his forehead now bleeding thanks to an opened wound. He wanted to throw himself back in there and take the lot of them on, but he knew that Uragi had things temporarily under control. Even if he were to finish those four off there were two of three dozen men outside who'd come running in after them. No doubt Uragi had made sure to let each and every one of them know who was really in charge when he had arrived; their loyalty couldn't be trusted.
He should have made greater efforts to keep around him those that he could trust, but that didn't matter now. Whatever Korosu had planned for him Fukushu would just have to deal with it and move on. For the immediate future he decided to go ahead and follow Uragi's advice and pursue some street level work. He was pissed with what was going on, and he needed to find his wits if he were to keep his job. A nice score would help to get his mind back on focus.
He rushed through the courtyard of the distillery, trying to do his best to avoid showing any of the emotions he had just been threw, using his hard to cover the blood across his face. The streets outside the distillery were the ones he knew best, but they were also off limits to him. The only people who bothered to walk around here unprotected were those who were affiliated with Korosu and the gang; attacking them would only get himself in deeper trouble.
The city as a whole had gone through some what of a turnaround. Crime was bad for a city, but it was at it's worst when competing factions were fighting each other. When you had a single hegemon... well, that made things more comfortable. It wasn't just the streets around the distillery that were safer now; Korosu's influence must have covered half the city by now. Every street he passed had a thug or two that he recognized, collecting 'protection' money from some small business.
That protection money meant protection from them, and that included Fukushu. He had to admit that Korosu had done well to turn his gang into such a well oiled machine; Niku never came close to this level of control. He had to walk near two hours until he found territory not directly controlled by the man, where the streets had a certain level of uneasiness that he had missed; not the backstabbing kind, but the in your face, life or death battle kind.
It was down one of these streets that he finally found what looked to be a good target. The man was clearly quite old as he wrinkles stood out to Fukushu even as he stood a good distance away. He moved in a proud manor, which told the young Heran that he was likely rich, perhaps even carrying a lot of money on him. It'd be foolish to do so in this sort of street, but age often slowed the mind quicker than the body. Even if he weren't carrying he could still force the man to take him to his home.
As the old man moved closer Fukushu decided to pounce. He figured that in one quick effort he'd be able to take him and rob him blind, but that wouldn't be how things would go. Instead of overpowering the man Fuksuhu found himself slammed into the ground, with his target quickly throwing his knee down onto Fukushu's throat, cutting off his breathing. Before he could even react the old man placed Fukushu's left arm across his knee, and wrenched down on it with all his strength, stepping it at the elbow. Fukushu tried to scream out in pain, but with the knee still placed down on his throat he instead lost consciousness.
A few moments later and the young Heran awoke. The pain hit him quickly, and he tried again to scream. This time the old man let him, as he stood over and watched Fukushu try to climb back to his feet. A swift kick knocked him back down, and Fukushu was forced to accept the situation as it was. "What... what the Hell do you want with me?" He could have left safely while he was unconsciousness, and yet he chose to stay and wait for Fukushu to wake up.
"I think the better question is what did you want with me? Why did you try and attack me? Have I wrong you in some way? I don't believe we've ever meet before, so speak up quickly boy, before I lose whatever pity I have and break the other arm." How was he supposed to answer that without enraging him any further? No, wait... the man didn't speak with any rage at all. In fact he was incredibly calm all things considering.
At that moment Fukushu realized that he was dealing with a solider, one that had seen real action. He broke the boys arm without a second thought, and now he was interrogating him. "I... I was trying to rob you; is that not obvious? You seemed to have wealth on you, and when traveling these parts alone... well, you should have known better." That made him laugh, but it also earned Fuksuhu another kick to the gut. He rolled over onto his stomach, to try and shield himself and to hide the shame in defeat that was plastered across his face, but the old man walked around him and sat down, forcing Fukushu's eyes to meet his own.
"What a fool you are. You thought that just because I'm an old man you'd be able to easily defeat me, huh? And you never even considered that I may have been hiding my true power? I suppose you never had proper training, right? Learned to fight on the streets judging by your sneak attack. Cowards fight from the shadows, not warriors." He grabbed a hold of Fukushu's bright orange hair and pulled his head up off the ground.
"Your insolence is what earned you position here. And for what? Common thievery. You're not the first boy I've seen act this way, and I doubt you'll be the last. Don't you think you're better than that? I could have killed if I wanted to; you really want to die so some scumbag crime 'lord' can add another pouch to the collection? Come on, kid; you've got your whole life ahead of you. Imagine what you could do if you actually managed to apply yourself."
Who the Hell did this guy think he was? Fukushu wasn't interested in any kind of lecturing; right now all he cared about was escaping his grasp so he could bring his crew back to kick his ass. He tried to wriggle free, but as soon as the old man felt what was going on he slammed Fukushu's face into the pavement. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said? Are you too stupid to realize what kind of situation you've gotten yourself into?"
Fukushu rolled his face to the side and spat out a glob of blood on the feet of the old man. "Who are you? And what do you want with me? Can't you just leave me alone?" The old man looked down at him for a while before finally releasing his grasp. Fukushu thought he had found his opportunity to escape, but before he could pick himself up off the pavement the old man had quickly sat himself on top of Fukushu, forcing him back on the ground.
"My name is Haji. I don't expect that you've ever heard it before, but there was a time not so long ago when many people feared that name. Like most of our kind I spent my youth as a mercenary, and none did that job better than I. I served on Plant, on Earth and on many other planets you've probably never heard of before, fighting more species that I can even recall. Thousands died by my hand, until eventually I decided to retire. Most who choose that path do so because they're wounded, and many others instead never get the chance as they fall in battle. Me on the other hand... I made my choice because I couldn't stomach the work any more."
Like Haji, Fukushu had expected to at some point work as a mercenary. It was good pay if you were strong enough, and Fukushu knew that he was strong enough. When the situation with Niku and Korosu all came up at once he thought that perhaps management would be how things turned out instead, but he could now see that those kind would never accept him. If he wanted to be in charge of anything he'd need to back himself, and for that he'd need plenty of money.
"You know what it's like to kill that many people? I dare not think of it any more... but the memories still haunt me. It's not just the blood of enemies on my hands either; the blood of friends who I sent to a pointless death for a pointless battle. Its much harder to ignore those memories, as much as I may try to. That's why I left it all behind, and came back to Hera to try and change the fate of those who would think to follow in my footsteps. There are far too many boys like you, boys like myself who think that the life of a mercenary is something to look up to; that our people can achieve nothing more than to be the best killers in the universe. I thought I could change that."
Fukushu let out a laugh. "Seems like you failed." Hera's reputation for being a planet of crime and wastes were well earned, but the people cared little to change that. Fukushu's remark earned him a shot to the liver. "I'm not finished. As I was saying... I thought I could change that, and fortunately I wasn't alone. There were others like me; others who thought we better than this. They were tough to find, and tough to trust, but eventually we formed a plan we all agreed on."
The boy had to admit that he was somewhat curious where all of this was going now. "We thought we could install our own government; something free of corruption and powerful enough to make a real difference. This city was where it all started, and at first things seemed to go well. We overthrew the governor and installed our own provisional government... and that was when Hell broke loose. The old governor had about a hundred different petty lords to answer to, and as soon as they had heard what had happened to him... they make it known how they felt about things."
Haji paused for a moment; something weighed heavy on him, as he seemed to struggle with what came next. "We... we weren't prepared for the attacks. We thought we had more support than we did; thought they had less than they did. I was still a great fighter, but my youth was quickly fading at that point. The others... weren't as gifted as I was. They fell sooner than I did, as hard as I fought to save them I... I failed them all eventually."
Haji surprised the young Heran by actually getting up off of him. The old Heran bent over and forcibly pulled Fukushu back up to his feet after that. "I survived, but with what? And for what? An old man with nothing else to offer is all that was left of me." Before Haji could continue Fukushu took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as he could in his state back to the distillery. Whatever the old man had left to say was no concern of his; he just wanted to get back to his squad.
Running through the unfamiliar streets with a broken arm was a stressful experience, but Fukushu knew most would likely recognize and avoid him. Eventually he made his way back to the distillery; hopefully he could get a hold of his squad mates and force them back. He was feeling more vulnerable than he ever had, and was desperate for faces he could trust. As he moved through the courtyard he attempted to hide his wounded arm as best he could, but that was no simple task.
The air around the courtyard seemed colder than it was before, and the faces seemed even less happy to see him this time around. There was a feeling of dread surrounding that place, and every instinct that Fukushu had told him that he should turn and run, and never look back, but still he pressed on to his office on the left, in the hopes of finding some document or recording that would tell him where his friends had gone. Even Wakita would be a welcome sight right about now, as useless as he'd be in a fight at least he was someone that Fukushu could trust.
He threw open the door, without any concern for what Uragi might think. He had not seen the boy out with the others which meant that he was still likely inside. He wasn't afraid of him though; even with one arm he still fancied his chances against him. When he pushed open the door to his private office he was shocked to see Korosu standing there, and next to him Uragi. He had a sad look on his face, which didn't bode well for Fuksuhu. The old man said nothing to his entrance; instead he snapped his fingers. Two large Herans entered the room and grabbed a hold of Fukushu, dragging him outside where Uragi followed shortly after.
The two Herans dragged Fukushu out of the building, out of the courtyard and even out of the distillery, with Uragi telling the workers and mercenaries alike not to worry about anything. "Just a small disagreement that we have to sort out. Everyone get back to work; this will be taken care of shortly." The two Herans carried Fukushu off a few blocks away from the distillery into a back alley that Fukushu didn't recognize, before throwing him down onto the pavement where landed on three bodies.
He instantly recognized the first body, belonging to his ally Osorea. He quickly examined the other two and believed that they belonged to Kuru and Itami, though without their heads he couldn't be sure; he was only able to identify Osorea by his familiar garments. "What have you done!?" Uragi stepped forward slowly and tapped one of the bodies with his foot.
"They showed a lot of promise, you know. I was very much hoping that we could have kept them on, but when I told them about what was going to happen... they were less that cooperative. It was to be them that killed you, so that they could prove their loyalty. At first they thought it was some kind of joke. When I insisted that I was serious they told me that they wanted no part of it. I couldn't risk them telling you or Korosu about my plan so... well, I think you get the picture."
Loyal to the end. He felt sorry that they had to meant their end like this, in some grimy alley and executed by what should have been allies. They should have died a warriors death, out in the battlefield somewhere... not like this. Fuksuhu tried to get back to his feet, but the two larger Herans stepped forward and shoved him back down, this time holding him in place so that he couldn't move. They rolled him onto his stomach and propped him up on top of the bodies.
"I wasn't sure at first whether or not Korosu would go along with my plan. You know he was quite fond of you. Afraid as well, but he was hoping that there would be some kind of peaceful solution to all of this. I insisted that this had to be done however; you're little more than a wild animal. Good for clearing out our enemies, but beyond that you're just a liability."
Uragi stepped forward, and from his arm he produced a blade of ki, and prepared it to slice through his neck. In his current condition Fuksuhu had no chance of fighting back; at best he could only try and wriggle away, but the two guards made sure to hold him tight against the cold corpse of Osorea. Uragi gently held the blade across the back of Fukushu's neck, so that it only slightly cut into his skin so that he could properly line up his slice. Then he brought his arm up over his head and threw it back down with all his force.
He expected the cold blade to take his head off in an instant; for death to be brought upon him right then and there, but instead there was nothing but a laugh. He turned his head and looked up at Uragi, who had a disgusted look on his face; it was the guards who were laughing. "In in the end Korosu couldn't go through with it though. He insisted that I let you go, so that you can live your life somewhere else. I hope this proves a strong enough message for you." Uragi delivered a swift kick to Fukushu's jaw, knocking the Heran unconscious.
He awoke within the black of night. Had it been a few hours, or a whole day? He couldn't tell. The burn across the back of his neck still ached even now, and his arm was still very much broken. The corpses of his squad still lay beneath his head, and where were their heads? He'd never know. He shimmed over to the nearest wall and used his good arm to pull himself up. That alone was a journey, leaving no doubt in his mind that he didn't have the strength to bury them.
Fukushu regretted what had happened, but he was only so sentimental about these things. They were dead, and he was still alive. He knelt down besides their bodies to say a few words before leaving. "Osorea, Itami, Kuru... I'm sorry I wasn't there to fight alongside you. I don't know the exact circumstances of what occurred but... I hope you went out fighting at least." When that was over he stood back up and now had to figure out where to go next.
He still had his home near the shore, though he hadn't actually been there in quite some time. He expected that someone else had likely captured it in all that time and made it his own, and he wasn't in any sort of mood to fight right now. His mind drifted to Wakita; what had happened to him? Was he in on all of this? He didn't dare think like that. He needed to have someone left in the world that he could trust; he'd find him later.
After Wakita the only person that came to mind was... was the old man from earlier. Hardly a friend; not even someone he knew, but it was the only other connection he had. He didn't even know where the old bastard lived, but what other choice did he have? Everything of value to him was at the distillery, and he'd never make it back there alive. With no other choices coming to mind Fukushu decided to head back to where he had met Haji, in the hopes of finding him again.
The walk back too much longer and was much more painful than the first time getting there, thanks to the many wounds his body now carried. He was forced to hold his arm in position without a proper sling, and even a slight gust of wind caused him pain. Moving his neck too much caused the cut from Uragi to split open, meaning even ten minutes or so he felt fresh blood rushing down his back. It must have taken three hours from where they had left him for Fukushu to make it back to the spot.
He could tell he was there based on blood stains left by Fukushu's face slamming into the pavement. Of course he found no trace of Haji who was long gone by now, but he never expected it to be that easy. Considering what Haji had said about himself, Fukushu expected that he wouldn't live somewhere that stood out. He was someone who had many enemies and thus he'd do his best to try and avoid detection. The houses that surrounded him didn't fit that criteria.
And so Fuksuhu followed in the opposite direction that he had seen Haji coming from, hoping that he might eventually find his home. It would have been much easier if he could sense Haji, but he had some sort of ability to hide that. He must have walked for another thirty minutes until he found some old rundown, government apartments. Everything as far as the eye could see looked exactly the same; the kind of place you'd go if you were on the run.
And so Fuksuhu got to work knocking on every single door, hoping that Haji would magically appear behind one of them. At least half of the homes were apparently empty, with no responses from his knocking. Most who did answer their doors wanted nothing to do with Fuksuhu, threatening to attack if the boy didn't go away. At the very least those ones gave him a voice to work with, but none were Haji. The few who actually opened their doors followed up on the threats, shoving or throwing punches at the wounded Fukushu. Helpless to defend himself he accepted whatever punishment came his way, picking himself back up and knocking on the next door.
He was about ready to give up on his stupid endeavor until he felt an arm sweep up against his back. In an instant he was thrown down to the ground, rolled onto his back and had a foot pressed down into his throat. "What the Hell you doing here, boy? You've come to try again have you?" Fuksuhu didn't answer. He was weak, he was tired and he was broken. He tried to get something out; anything to answer Haji, but nothing came.
"Well? Speak up, boy, before I lose my patience." Fukushu could now feel himself quickly losing consciousness. He wasn't sure whether it was the foot pressed into his throat or an accumulation of all his other wounds. Again he tried to open his mouth, to try and explain everything that had happened to him, but again nothing came out. Instead the young Heran closed his eyes and fell into unconsciousness, leaving himself in the hands of this stranger.
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