Yuta stepped out of the hotel elevator and into the corridor. The hallway was elegant with marble floors, golden sconces, and thick red carpet muffling his steps, but something felt off.
His grey hair didn't move; there wasn't even the faint hum of air conditioning. The air was still, heavy. It was just a corridor lined with doors, fancy doors but doors nonetheless. And somehow, that made it worse.
An anxious feeling climbed up his nerves, as if he was being tickled by the souls he'd killed.
It's not like he's gonna be fed with bullets by gangsters in the 1930's with their fully loaded Tommy Guns.
Putting his unease aside, Yuta slid the keycard into the reader. The door clicked, and he stepped inside. The room was dark, with every light off, and the uneasy feeling in his chest tightened. Still, he was a mercenary; fear was something he couldn't afford.
Turning on the lights, the first thing he saw was his cozy couch and… me.
***
I'm slouched on the cozy couch, my steel framed Glock 34 leveled at him. Neutral face, messy black hair, Tony-Stark glasses, a black vest under a long coat, white dress shirt with no tux.
Yuta played innocent, aware of his betrayal to the association, for what he did to me and this mission.
"Heeey, Saitou! What's up, buddy?"
"Don't play with me how you play with your life. You know exactly what you did."
Yuta opened his mouth, about to say something but deciding against it. Instead, a faint smirk tugged on his face.
"Ha! You're still practicing that whole 'emotionless mecenary' thing, I see."
I sighed "Oh, for fuck's sake. You're not Naoki so cut it with the jokes."
Pausing for a bit, my eyes scanned Yuta's figure, searching for any weapons he might use. Finding nothing of the sort, I continued.
"And Mr. W prefers someone who can keep their secrets, Especially, when it comes to you... Yuta."
Yuta exhaled deeply, followed by an amused chuckle.
My fingers curled harder around the Glock. "Just speak up. What do you know about 'them'?"
"It's not a can't." Yuta said, lips curling into an amused yet secretive smile. "It's more of a won't."
With a voice filled with dissapointment, I said. "Thought so."
Teeth gritted, the gun pressed a little tighter. "Yep… had enough."
I suddenly shot him in the leg. Yuta, as if knowing my move, already dodged to the left letting the bullet only graze him.
Changing my target, and shooting the chandelier, it fell down, shards and dust shattered across the room, distracting him for a second. And that second was all I needed.
I did an exaggerated acrobatic move, launching off the couch and driving my foot into his face. He staggered, dropping to the floor while clutching his head.
The glock slid into my coat, and my hand grabbed a wine bottle that fell onto the floor from the earlier chandelier crash.
Yuta, who was down on the floor, still disoriented from my kick, and the chandelier fall impact, looked at me with the same obnoxious grin on his face. The wine bottle hovered over his head, heavy in my hand.
"It's either you speak up, or I smash this bottle of wine in your head and slice your throat open."
Yuta only smiled wider, that infuriating, confident curl of his mouth. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at me with his eyes half‑lidded as if watching a boring show.
"Do it," he said, voice calm and showing no fear. "Go on, prove me wrong, Saitou."
The grin never left his face. It wasn't a dare or so much as a bet; he looked certain that I wouldn't break the bottle.
"Alright, guess you left me no damn choice." The bottle lifted higher, and... the refrigerator started screaming.
A series of loud, continuous beeps echoed through the room. For a second nothing happened, then it spat flame. A sudden explosion and a big burst of flame roared in our room. The impact pushing us both out of the building, crashing into the hotel swimming pool outside.
I clawed my way out of the pool, lungs on fire, thoughts blurry and scattered from the sudden explosion. I drew my gun, fingers drenched in water mixed with blood, while gasping for air. Yuta floated next to me, eerily still as if he's dead. The pool dyed crimson from our wounds.
Around us, people screamed and scrambled away and out from the water, panic spreading like wildfire.
Out of nowhere, "Animals" by Maroon 5 started playing from a speaker.
Holstering the gun, I forced my hands to stay steady. My feet staggered through the chaos, lungs burning, water and blood slicking the ground beneath me as I cut troughthe crowd. And as if it couldn't get any worse, armed men barreled towards me, shouting and firing not paying any mind to the civilians in their way. Every step was a fight just to stay upright.
I slipped into the panicked crowd, blending with the chaos. When one of the armed men got too close, I turned sharply, pressing the muzzle to his ribs. A quick, muffled shot, clean and efficient.
My hand clamped over his mouth, catching the sound before it could escape. The noise of the gunfire vanished into the larger storm of screams, sirens, and the echo of destruction. He went limp, and I let him drop, swallowed by the chaos.
I knew I couldn't keep this up forever; sooner or later, they'd catch on. I needed a way out. Heart hammering, I scanned the crowd, and froze. Every exit was blocked. And on one of them, Yuta's unconscious body was being dragged back.
They blocked my way out to freedom. Now there's no escape. Just noise, panic, and the slow tightening of a noose around me. At least, that's probably what the armed men thought.
Right on time, my mind came up with a plan. It was simple; create chaos in one exit, and go out another. Luckily, I prepared extra for this exact moment.
My fingers wrapped around a fist-sized circular object inside my coat, it's a grenade. Walking over one exit, I executed my plan. A light pull, a toss towards one exit, and then back in the crowd like a ghost.
The grenade erupted with a concussive roar. Screams cut through the smoke as chaos rippled through the corridor. One of the armed men shouted orders, calling for reinforcements, panic in his voice.
That was my chance.
Heading for the nearest exit, breath burning, I saw only two guards standing there. Most had rushed toward the blast as the reinforcements, leaving this choke point thin. No time to hesitate.
Both of the guards were trying to maintain the crowd, holding their guns high and threatening to shoot anyone who dares try and pass.
I shot one straight in the head, dead before he even hit the ground. The second, eyes on the crowd, was a second too slow. A round through his hand made him drop the gun, then the panicked crowd surged and trampled him.
I surged with the crowd and finally made it out of the pool. The music stopped but the chaos remained. The long stretch of pavement was a chaos of fleeing bodies and screams, for a moment it felt like the whole world was running. I cut right into a narrow alley, pushing my body to run as fast as it allows.
At the far end, a car crouched in the shadows like a hidden treasure. Someone was already behind the wheel. Without pausing I hurled myself into the backseat, slammed the door, and ordered the driver to do his job. The engine snarled to life, tires screeched the pavement, and we bolted away into the night, tail lights disappearing into the city's dark maze.