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sententiaTitle: End Of The World, chapter 11
Author(s): Sententia
Artist(s): dragon_gypsy
Fandom(s): Switch
Type: (Gen, Het, Femmeslash or Slash) Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 34,000.
Characters/Pairings: Takei and Shiba.
Warnings/Spoilers: For the entire series and the official '5 years later' doujinshi done by Naked Ape.
Summary: It was the end of the world as Takei knew it, and he was feeling ... wait, how did the rest of the song go again? Takei returns to work after Shingo's betrayal, only to be hit be a far greater one. Both Shiba and Takei struggle with the consequences.
Author’s Notes: This is the longest thing I've written, and it really shows. When I planned it out it was only supposed to be 10,000 words (which is still huge for me), but it blossomed into something much longer. It's been a great growing process, and if I were to redo the story again with everything I'd learnt, it would probably be a completely different fic.
Chapter 11: Down into the rabbit hole.
It took four days undercover as a somewhat incompetent but well meaning investigations officer before Takei’s cover was ‘blown’. There wasn’t some empty warehouse that echoed through with bullets, nor a rain drenched street lit by one, wailing lamppost that was curved thin by the night.
Nope. None of that, because good mafia foot soldiers didn’t do drama, they did dead.
Takei was more valuable alive. Thankfully.
He placed his pool cue down gingerly, acutely aware of the gun barrel currently sitting against the small of his back. No words were exchanged because they were all professionals here – although Takei made sure to let just a hint of fear slip into his gaze.
“There is someone who would like to meet you,” Big and Fat said once Takei was lead out of the dank pool hall and into the alleyway outside, his voice deep and solid but his gaze piercing. Short and Broad laughed. It was a sharp, nasty little giggle, and Takei hated it with a fire he normally reserved for making sure his steak was well and truly dead. It had been tempting – oh so very tempting - to break cover on multiple occasions just so he could clock Short and Broad one. Takei knew the little gnome was probably smirking proudly through his snaggled teeth and ripped lips. As he was currently holding a gun against Takei’s back, Takei was happy enough leaving that as a hunch.
“We’re all friends here, right?” Takei said with a bright, slightly desperate smile. Big and Fat’s smirk deepened, and Takei was way, way too good at this. “I’m sure that whatever this guy needs to say to me, he can tell me in the morning. It’s getting late, hell. He’s probably half asleep.” Takei moved away just slightly, expecting the tight tug backwards he got as a result.
“He is not the kind of man who likes to be kept waiting.”
Takei schooled his expression into one of defiance, his shoulders lifting up from their drooped position into a much stronger line. “Look. It’s up, ok?” The words were firm, just a touch tense. “We know about this little operation your boss is running. This could be your only opportunity to assist us and get yourself some sort of plea bargain. Otherwise, you’ll just be collateral damage when we take you all down.”
“You and what army?” Short and Broad sniggered, and Takei’s urge to smack the little twit was rising-
“I think you’re mistaking me for a member of the national guard,” Takei replied smoothly. “We don’t have armies, just batons. And those batons? They are often attached to people who maybe also carry guns. Just for decoration, naturally.”
“My apologies,” Tall and Fat said, and really. Anyone who passed through would think they were just a bunch of guys having a laugh. “When were you expecting these gun wearing batons to show up?”
“Any minute now,” Takei replied confidently, too confidently. Just a little too loud, and Takei didn’t look Tall and Fat directly in the eyes but allowed his gaze to slide across his cheekbones, instead. Tall and Fat smirked, knowingly. “Aaany minute now ...” Takei repeated when his magical backup didn’t materialise, hopefully glancing down the alleyway before his attention flicked back brightly to Big and Fat. “This could be your last chance?” He offered pathetically.
“You’ve wasted enough time,” Short and Broad snarled. He was not wrong. This little discussion should have given Shiba enough time to execute his end of the plan. Still, though ...
Takei bit down on his bottom lip thoughtfully and snuck a glance sideways through his bangs. The alleyway stretched a good 50 meters in both directions, and the buildings on either side scaled high and wide in unbroken sheets of tired, old brick. The pavement was unkempt, a mishmash of junk scattered at uneven intervals that made the thought of anything larger than a bicycle an unlikely getaway vehicle.
Something was not right. It was the kind of not right that sat uneasily on Takei, although it added a certain kick to the anticipation that was slowly starting to build behind his slightly unnerved smile.
No side streets that he could be taken down, no low windows they might try and force him through-
Did they want him to make a scene? Hell, did they maybe want him to be able to make a successful escape? The bubbly air of anticipation morphed instantly into dread, and it was all Takei could do to force back the sudden, blinding horror that shocked through him.
Was Takei being set up? Did they already know?
Takei kept his breathing even and superficial, but only just. He ducked his head, allowing his hair to mask the wild thoughts streaming through his head like a YouTube channel, one that was flagged with a thousand warning signs and 90% dislikes. He couldn’t afford to hyperventilate, he couldn’t afford to lose himself here. He needed to cement his thoughts in now, not a nasty, dark past that was trying to erode away all his fine-tuned skills like acid.
Takei bit down again on his lip, this time drawing just a touch of blood to the surface. Small and Broad laughed, but the shock of pain was enough to drown out the other emotions that were threatening him, burning away a year of far too hard work.
He had boxes for that, and Takei filed all the traitorous thoughts away in them. Right now, he needed to trust his partner. He didn’t really have a choice. There was something almost ... almost liberating about that, and Takei grasped onto it, claiming all its sanity and purposefulness as his own.
Besides. Shiba was just around the corner on the main road, tracking every move Takei made.
When Takei met Tall and Fat’s gaze again, it was with a smirk. Tall and Fat answered with one of his own, his eyes dropping deliberately to the ground between them.
Takei blinked, his gaze following slowly to the manhole.
Crap.
Thank god.
This was not part of their plan. At all. In fact, it went so counter to their plan that Takei felt a little lightheaded at the thought. There were complicating factors that they hadn’t taken into account, routes they hadn’t documented, possibilities left unexplored.
Takei shuts it all down, and thought.
The tracking device so wonderfully installed behind his back wisdom tooth was perfect for short-distance surveillance work that sometimes took on an unexpectedly long-distance event. However, there were too many layers of concrete and metal underground that would scatter the signal into a thousand pieces – and that was if it didn’t smother the signal completely from existence instead.
It didn’t help that everything Takei knew about about sewers came from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He thought aliens were involved at some point.
Still, sewers consisted of a network of interconnecting pipes and stuff, right? Which meant, even if Takei had no idea where he was going, someone else would. Every exit, every tunnel must be catalogued somewhere, and only so many potential routes could be evacuated from. There was no way in hell that Tanaka’s head-quarters were in the sewers; it was damn difficult to get good reception down there.
Plus, he had brought Shiba enough time to figure something out. Takei needed to let Shiba do what he was good at. It was the only way this could possibly work.
“Oh, come on. This is a new shirt,” he pleaded pathetically, wide eyes sweeping across the henchmen. There was more laughter, more taunts, and still the ever-present steel of the gun against his back.
There was a ladder that took them down into the sewer tunnel below, although it was nothing like Takei expected. There was a tiny drizzle of thick sludge that pulsated more than it moved, and it was easy enough for Takei to walk with his feet on either side of it. The stench hit him with each step, a wall of stale flavour and smell that spoke of something that had fallen behind the fridge and had been left there for a couple of weeks, dissolving into something foul and odorous but completely unrecognisable.
Other than that, it was really a rather pretty walk, especially if you didn’t mind the occasional rat scurrying past. Takei thought he might just recommend it to the Tokyo tourism board.
There was a hollow echo that captured their voices and returned it two fold whenever they spoke, creating a chaotic claustrophobia that made little sense given the width of the tunnel. It was possibly why the ‘witty’ and ‘dry’ commentary from Short and Broad died a quick death after the first few attempts at gutter humour, although Takei hated himself a little for missing it as the walk dragged on. If there was anything worse than being crushed by noise, it was the stony, ominous silence that was currently trying to out do it.
It gave Takei time to think, and more importantly, it allowed him a chance to memorise the route they took. When the stale air in the tunnel started to take on a slightly salty smell, his suspicions were proven correct. For once, he would have been quite happy to have been proven wrong.
He ... he didn’t had the fondest memories of the docks, and the scars across his chest tightened.
Takei expected to be taken up another manhole; however the system of movement was much more complex. They did turn down one more tunnel, but this one ended in a large, rough-looking door that was out of place with the endless concrete conformity of the sewers. Small and Broad slipped from behind Takei and fumbled with the lock. He had to tug hard on the door to get it open, the fit into the frame being secure and stead-fast but not entirely well thought out. Security had been chosen over function. With one final grunt, the door swung outwards.
Tanaka stood on the other side, a shark smile slithered across his mouth and a cold fire flaring in his eyes.
Takei gulped.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Author(s): Sententia
Artist(s): dragon_gypsy
Fandom(s): Switch
Type: (Gen, Het, Femmeslash or Slash) Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 34,000.
Characters/Pairings: Takei and Shiba.
Warnings/Spoilers: For the entire series and the official '5 years later' doujinshi done by Naked Ape.
Summary: It was the end of the world as Takei knew it, and he was feeling ... wait, how did the rest of the song go again? Takei returns to work after Shingo's betrayal, only to be hit be a far greater one. Both Shiba and Takei struggle with the consequences.
Author’s Notes: This is the longest thing I've written, and it really shows. When I planned it out it was only supposed to be 10,000 words (which is still huge for me), but it blossomed into something much longer. It's been a great growing process, and if I were to redo the story again with everything I'd learnt, it would probably be a completely different fic.
It took four days undercover as a somewhat incompetent but well meaning investigations officer before Takei’s cover was ‘blown’. There wasn’t some empty warehouse that echoed through with bullets, nor a rain drenched street lit by one, wailing lamppost that was curved thin by the night.
Nope. None of that, because good mafia foot soldiers didn’t do drama, they did dead.
Takei was more valuable alive. Thankfully.
He placed his pool cue down gingerly, acutely aware of the gun barrel currently sitting against the small of his back. No words were exchanged because they were all professionals here – although Takei made sure to let just a hint of fear slip into his gaze.
“There is someone who would like to meet you,” Big and Fat said once Takei was lead out of the dank pool hall and into the alleyway outside, his voice deep and solid but his gaze piercing. Short and Broad laughed. It was a sharp, nasty little giggle, and Takei hated it with a fire he normally reserved for making sure his steak was well and truly dead. It had been tempting – oh so very tempting - to break cover on multiple occasions just so he could clock Short and Broad one. Takei knew the little gnome was probably smirking proudly through his snaggled teeth and ripped lips. As he was currently holding a gun against Takei’s back, Takei was happy enough leaving that as a hunch.
“We’re all friends here, right?” Takei said with a bright, slightly desperate smile. Big and Fat’s smirk deepened, and Takei was way, way too good at this. “I’m sure that whatever this guy needs to say to me, he can tell me in the morning. It’s getting late, hell. He’s probably half asleep.” Takei moved away just slightly, expecting the tight tug backwards he got as a result.
“He is not the kind of man who likes to be kept waiting.”
Takei schooled his expression into one of defiance, his shoulders lifting up from their drooped position into a much stronger line. “Look. It’s up, ok?” The words were firm, just a touch tense. “We know about this little operation your boss is running. This could be your only opportunity to assist us and get yourself some sort of plea bargain. Otherwise, you’ll just be collateral damage when we take you all down.”
“You and what army?” Short and Broad sniggered, and Takei’s urge to smack the little twit was rising-
“I think you’re mistaking me for a member of the national guard,” Takei replied smoothly. “We don’t have armies, just batons. And those batons? They are often attached to people who maybe also carry guns. Just for decoration, naturally.”
“My apologies,” Tall and Fat said, and really. Anyone who passed through would think they were just a bunch of guys having a laugh. “When were you expecting these gun wearing batons to show up?”
“Any minute now,” Takei replied confidently, too confidently. Just a little too loud, and Takei didn’t look Tall and Fat directly in the eyes but allowed his gaze to slide across his cheekbones, instead. Tall and Fat smirked, knowingly. “Aaany minute now ...” Takei repeated when his magical backup didn’t materialise, hopefully glancing down the alleyway before his attention flicked back brightly to Big and Fat. “This could be your last chance?” He offered pathetically.
“You’ve wasted enough time,” Short and Broad snarled. He was not wrong. This little discussion should have given Shiba enough time to execute his end of the plan. Still, though ...
Takei bit down on his bottom lip thoughtfully and snuck a glance sideways through his bangs. The alleyway stretched a good 50 meters in both directions, and the buildings on either side scaled high and wide in unbroken sheets of tired, old brick. The pavement was unkempt, a mishmash of junk scattered at uneven intervals that made the thought of anything larger than a bicycle an unlikely getaway vehicle.
Something was not right. It was the kind of not right that sat uneasily on Takei, although it added a certain kick to the anticipation that was slowly starting to build behind his slightly unnerved smile.
No side streets that he could be taken down, no low windows they might try and force him through-
Did they want him to make a scene? Hell, did they maybe want him to be able to make a successful escape? The bubbly air of anticipation morphed instantly into dread, and it was all Takei could do to force back the sudden, blinding horror that shocked through him.
Was Takei being set up? Did they already know?
Takei kept his breathing even and superficial, but only just. He ducked his head, allowing his hair to mask the wild thoughts streaming through his head like a YouTube channel, one that was flagged with a thousand warning signs and 90% dislikes. He couldn’t afford to hyperventilate, he couldn’t afford to lose himself here. He needed to cement his thoughts in now, not a nasty, dark past that was trying to erode away all his fine-tuned skills like acid.
Takei bit down again on his lip, this time drawing just a touch of blood to the surface. Small and Broad laughed, but the shock of pain was enough to drown out the other emotions that were threatening him, burning away a year of far too hard work.
He had boxes for that, and Takei filed all the traitorous thoughts away in them. Right now, he needed to trust his partner. He didn’t really have a choice. There was something almost ... almost liberating about that, and Takei grasped onto it, claiming all its sanity and purposefulness as his own.
Besides. Shiba was just around the corner on the main road, tracking every move Takei made.
When Takei met Tall and Fat’s gaze again, it was with a smirk. Tall and Fat answered with one of his own, his eyes dropping deliberately to the ground between them.
Takei blinked, his gaze following slowly to the manhole.
Crap.
Thank god.
This was not part of their plan. At all. In fact, it went so counter to their plan that Takei felt a little lightheaded at the thought. There were complicating factors that they hadn’t taken into account, routes they hadn’t documented, possibilities left unexplored.
Takei shuts it all down, and thought.
The tracking device so wonderfully installed behind his back wisdom tooth was perfect for short-distance surveillance work that sometimes took on an unexpectedly long-distance event. However, there were too many layers of concrete and metal underground that would scatter the signal into a thousand pieces – and that was if it didn’t smother the signal completely from existence instead.
It didn’t help that everything Takei knew about about sewers came from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He thought aliens were involved at some point.
Still, sewers consisted of a network of interconnecting pipes and stuff, right? Which meant, even if Takei had no idea where he was going, someone else would. Every exit, every tunnel must be catalogued somewhere, and only so many potential routes could be evacuated from. There was no way in hell that Tanaka’s head-quarters were in the sewers; it was damn difficult to get good reception down there.
Plus, he had brought Shiba enough time to figure something out. Takei needed to let Shiba do what he was good at. It was the only way this could possibly work.
“Oh, come on. This is a new shirt,” he pleaded pathetically, wide eyes sweeping across the henchmen. There was more laughter, more taunts, and still the ever-present steel of the gun against his back.
There was a ladder that took them down into the sewer tunnel below, although it was nothing like Takei expected. There was a tiny drizzle of thick sludge that pulsated more than it moved, and it was easy enough for Takei to walk with his feet on either side of it. The stench hit him with each step, a wall of stale flavour and smell that spoke of something that had fallen behind the fridge and had been left there for a couple of weeks, dissolving into something foul and odorous but completely unrecognisable.
Other than that, it was really a rather pretty walk, especially if you didn’t mind the occasional rat scurrying past. Takei thought he might just recommend it to the Tokyo tourism board.
There was a hollow echo that captured their voices and returned it two fold whenever they spoke, creating a chaotic claustrophobia that made little sense given the width of the tunnel. It was possibly why the ‘witty’ and ‘dry’ commentary from Short and Broad died a quick death after the first few attempts at gutter humour, although Takei hated himself a little for missing it as the walk dragged on. If there was anything worse than being crushed by noise, it was the stony, ominous silence that was currently trying to out do it.
It gave Takei time to think, and more importantly, it allowed him a chance to memorise the route they took. When the stale air in the tunnel started to take on a slightly salty smell, his suspicions were proven correct. For once, he would have been quite happy to have been proven wrong.
He ... he didn’t had the fondest memories of the docks, and the scars across his chest tightened.
Takei expected to be taken up another manhole; however the system of movement was much more complex. They did turn down one more tunnel, but this one ended in a large, rough-looking door that was out of place with the endless concrete conformity of the sewers. Small and Broad slipped from behind Takei and fumbled with the lock. He had to tug hard on the door to get it open, the fit into the frame being secure and stead-fast but not entirely well thought out. Security had been chosen over function. With one final grunt, the door swung outwards.
Tanaka stood on the other side, a shark smile slithered across his mouth and a cold fire flaring in his eyes.
Takei gulped.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
