The Den – Old Fushira Scrap Yard — Monday — 5:58 PM
"Alright, everyone get your asses in gear," Haruna barked, slapping her laptop shut with a little too much lust-fueled enthusiasm. "Time to plan the heist, the hack, the hit—whatever the hell this ends up being."
The crew gathered around the janky, duct-taped table at the center of the hideout—though "table" might be a generous word for it. More like a hunk of bent metal balanced on a tire, barely holding the weight of a crumpled map, two candy wrappers, and a mug that said #1 Evil Genius (definitely stolen by Haruna).
They weren't sitting on chairs. No, chairs were for civilized people.
Haruna was on all fours, skirt riding up way too far. Jean was lying on her stomach with her chin on her hands and feet kicking in the air like she was at a sleepover, Reiketsuna leaned over her, tracing a lazy finger up her spine.
Joshua crouched like a frog, scissors spinning between his fingers, eyes darting over the notes.
And Kikidori?
Kikidori was currently chasing a raccoon around the hideout.
"COME HERE YOU LIL FLUFFY CRIMINAL!" he shouted, bounding over scrap piles like a toddler on energy drinks. "I just wanna love you!"
"You're literally bleeding," Haruna called without looking up.
"Battle scars!" Kikidori grunted, then let out a yelp as the raccoon scratched his forearm and bolted under the old fridge. "You ungrateful little—!"
He stumbled backward and fake tripped.
Right onto Haruna.
More specifically, right onto Haruna's backside.
Face first.
"Oops," he said innocently, eyes wide, trying—and failing—not to grin.
Haruna turned her head slowly, like a demon queen about to roast a peasant alive. "Kikidori…"
"YES, MA'AM?"
"Did your dumbass just motorboat my ass on accident?"
"...Define accident?"
There was a snap. A flick of her wrist. A click of her blade.
Then screaming.
Loud, dramatic, deeply earned screaming as Haruna chased Kikidori around the Den, dagger in hand, swearing in three languages and threatening to shove her keyboard somewhere unspeakable.
Joshua laughed so hard he fell off his crouch position. Jean rolled over and clapped. Reiketsuna just shook his head with a small smile and sipped his iced coffee like none of this was new.
Eventually, Kikidori flopped on the couch again, clutching his now-bandaged forehead.
Haruna returned to the table like nothing happened, dagger still dripping red and a smile on her lips that said you'll live, but barely.
"Now, let's actually plan this thing," she said sweetly.
They leaned in, elbows bumping, thighs overlapping. There was no space. No personal bubbles. Just chaos and closeness.
On the map was a building: SeijiTech Corp. Publicly a tech firm. Secretly, a power-oppression center trafficking rare-enhanced items, muting gear, and worse—gear that could erase abilities permanently. And they were hoarding.
It was time to clean house.
Haruna explained the network layout. Server vault here. Guard patrols here. Backup generator hidden there. Ventilation? Unlabeled. Cameras? Wired through five proxy loops—nothing Haruna and Joshua couldn't burn.
While the others dissected the plan, Kikidori leaned over with blood still dripping from his head and finally got serious, eyes narrowing as he observed the route in total silence.
Then he spoke: "So... if I throw a card at the circuit box and Haruna shuts everything down—"
"Boom. Darkness," Haruna finished.
"And if I roll a 6…"
"Door opens. Perfect," Joshua nodded.
Jean added, "And if I switch into the security chief, I can walk in like I belong there and slit the mainline clean."
"Hell yeah," Kikidori grinned.
Then came prep time.
Haruna opened her backpack and pulled out her laptop, sleek and lined with neon stickers—and her dagger, which she tucked neatly into the side holster on her thigh.
Joshua pulled out his scissors, dagger, pocket knife, and his lock pick set, laying them in a neat little bloodstained roll.
Jean grabbed a compact suitcase with clothes, wigs, IDs, heels, boots, and more—because when you can switch your body, your outfits don't come with you. She even had a mustache labeled Gary.
Reiketsuna didn't say a word. Just popped the trunk under the couch, pulled out his custom-made trench knife, flash blinders, and a bottle of Reika-brand cologne—because apparently, breaking necks didn't mean you had to smell bad doing it.
And Kikidori?
He pulled his deck of custom-forged cards, each one marked with glowing etchings—capable of slicing steel like paper. Then, with dramatic flair, he revealed his gold-edged six-sided die, kissed it, and tucked it into his breast pocket.
He also pulled out a piece of cake.
Chocolate. Iced. Beautiful.
"Seriously?" Haruna blinked.
"What? Pre-battle snack."
"Bro, we haven't even started the mission."
"Exactly," he said with a straight face. "Fuel."
Jean leaned over, licking frosting off his cheek. "Mm. Moist."
"Jean."
"Moist," she said again, louder.
Reiketsuna sighed. "Why do I date you again?"
"Because I let you tie me up."
"…Fair."
They all sat back, looking at the plan. The goal was clear. The crew was loaded.
And outside the walls of that scrapheap hellhole, the world had no idea what was about to come crashing through its doors.
But inside?
Inside was a storm of freaks, fire, and fearless lust.
And the BloodMoon was about to rise.
End of Chapter 4
Hiya! Here are the powers of The BloodMoon:
Kikidori has gamble which gives him razor sharp cards and die that do stuff depending on the number it lands on
Haruna has shut down which can shut down any electric thing in a mile radius
Joshua has incognito which can hide his identity and basically anything
Jean has switch which she can switch her gender, age, or anything
And Reiketsuna who has lust and make people love him hate him and stuff like that.