[BitP:R] Gaiden: Do you feel lucky, punk?

[Kuroimaken]

It was an unusually cold day in Rukongai district 80, Zaraki. This was where the worst of the worst, the lowest of the low isolated themselves in. Newcomers were few and far between. Most never realized they'd even made it inside until the painfully predatorial gazes of the place's inhabitants settled upon them. No one here was a saint. Everyone had the taste, if not the brand of sin upon them: with some, it was literal. With others, it was a guilty conscience, or a nasty habit. Regardless, trusting anyone within this place was a mistake.

Into a pub walks a young-ish man. It was hard to tell, considering he had a tan cloak and a kaburigasa on. He carried a pair of huge objects on his back, which together took the shape of a cross. Both were wrapped in bandages, and the vertical object looked taller than it was wide, while the other was wider than it was tall.

"Whisky, if you would."

He placed the money on the table as if already expecting that the bartender would not place anything before him without money upfront.

[Sucrose]

The barkeeper glances at the coins suspiciously, picking one up, and taking a careful bite of it to verify the material. Apparently mollified, he then takes a bottle out from under the counter, popping it open a moment thereafter. After spreading the grime around sufficiently with his wash-cloth, he pours a tall glass out for the younger man.

The mass of scars around the barkeep's face twist around a bit as he offers his customer a slightly worrying grin.

"So, what brings a kid like you out to these parts?"

[Nicklance]

"You've got balls kid, trying to cheat at dice?!" comes a roar at the extreme end of the bar, where a group of gangsters are roughing up a nearly adult-looking young man. The dice that falls off the table bounce a few times, and it all appeared as a 6.

Seated at the couch is the source of that voice, a middle-aged man approaching grey with plenty of scars on his face and exposed arms. Given the sitting posture, the slightly less-ragged looking clothes seems to hide an extremely honed body.

[Sucrose]

The barkeep continues waiting for the stranger's response, paying no heed to the violence in his establishment. Apparently, this sort of thing isn't out of the ordinary for this bar.

[Kuroimaken]

Unsurprisingly, neither does the younger man's. He takes the glass and pulls it back just a little, sipping underneath the shade of his hat. "Nothing special. Just visiting a couple of old acquaintances."

The barkeep may notice there is no visible tension in the stranger's posture, even considering the oncoming rumble. He certainly didn't feel like a stranger to the happenstances of this side of Rukongai. "Things don't look like they changed much."

[Sucrose]

The bartender shrugs, and sets to 'cleaning' a glass.

"Things seldom do. Shinigami come, kill some of the worst bastards out here, and a fresh batch gets dropped off in the morning."

[Kayne650]

"Did you expect it to? Things here don't change." A man had sat next to Kazuma, though he probably hadn't been noticed until he spoke. His features were even and forgettable, with no real distinguishing characteristics at all. He wore bland gray clothes with a brown cloak over it. The cloak covered his entire body, and only his right arm on the counter was visible. But Kazuma might notice something slightly familiar about the man, though any definite clues would have been lost to time.

"So what are you doing here, carrying those massive things?"

[Kuroimaken]

"But I did expect them to change... for the worse." Kazuma replied with another gulp of the drink.

"Zaraki is a predatorship. The strongest live, the weakest die. The corollary being that the stronger the ones on top of the food chain, the more the weak underneath suffer.

I'm not doing anything special. Just needed to relay a couple of messages."

[Frozen_Feet]

"Yeah, if you want to be dramatic about it...", an old man calls out from a corner. "Really, it's not that bad. It's not like the 'weak ones' couldn't walk away if they wanted to. They just choose to stay here, for whatever reason..."

"... hey, you look familiar. Have I seen you before?"

[Kuroimaken]

"I should look familiar if half the people here have my taste in clothes." He pointed at the man sitting next to him.

It was actually kind of funny to be gathering this much attention.

At least it would make finding the top dogs easier.

"Anybody in particular I should look out for not pissing off? Any names come to mind?"

[Frozen_Feet]

"Nah, it's not that, it's just... it'd be easier to tell if I could see your face... eh, forget it."

[Kuroimaken]

"Have you been living here long, mister?" Kazuma asked, as though suddenly interested in the old man.

[Frozen_Feet]

"Well DUH. Do I look young to you or what?", the disheveled geezer barks. Kazuma might notice that the grying beggar is missing a good deal of his teeth. "Been here for better part of the century! I used to own this place until..."

He shuts abruptly, giving a quick glance to the current barkeep. "... yeah. Let's not talk about that, shall we? It was such ugly business. *mutter* Darn bastard... *mutter*"

[Kuroimaken]

Used to own this place? ...Could it be--!!

"Kuruda-jijii?!" Kazuma instantly regretted the slip of the tongue.

He was the only one who called the old man that!

Spoiler

Show

Kazuma also has an old street nickname: "Onizuma". It's short for "Onigiri no Kazuma", or Devil Slasher Kazuma.

(And yes, I'm painfully aware of the rice ball joke.)

[Frozen_Feet]

"Huh? So you do know me?", the old man rasps and rouses his head. "Yeah... I can tell it now. You're one of those rascals who kept wrecking my ****... it's been what, dozen to twenty years now? Hell if I remember."

It's true Kazuma was the only one to call the old man that. It might be that since his departure, someone equally obnoxious had taken up that mantle.

[Kuroimaken]

Small blessings and all that. Kazuma inwardly sighed in relief that the old man hadn't actually recognized him.

"Kuruda-jijii, who are these rascals you're talking about? They still around?"

[Frozen_Feet]

"Of course not, they're DEAD. Or, well, just otherwise gone. Which one of them are you supposed to be anyway?", the old man grumbles.

[Kuroimaken]

"It, um, starts with a K." Kazuma mentioned before he took another sip of the whisky. Damn, this old man was sneakier than he thought.

[Frozen_Feet]

One can almost hear how rusty gears are kicked into motion. "Darn you brats and your childish guessing games", the old man barks. "Ken? Kokoro? Kazuma? Which one's hitting a note? Kujo? Kaien?"

[Kuroimaken]

"Yeah! Yeah, Kokoro. That's the one."

Kazuma's a poor liar. He just about blurted it out when the old man was about to say his name. It's a good thing he's probably senile enough not to catch on. Or at least he hopes so.

Note to self: play more rounds of poker with the Onmitsukidou folks to learn how to lie properly.

[Frozen_Feet]

Ye olde nasty person gives Kazuma a suspicious glance to end all suspicious glances. Then, he shrugs. "Honestly thought you were pushing grass after that gang incident. I'm surprised you've decided to return here. Don't think that means I'm pleased to see you by the way, 'cause I ain't."

"Lotsa things happened after that. Mori's place burned down. Katsu got shivved in a valley. That barmaid you courted got knocked up and we haven't seen her since. You know, the usual."

Of course, other customers would know that there was no barmaid around when Kokoro went to sleep with the fish. But someone who wasn't around wouldn't have a clue about that...

[Kuroimaken]

"Is that so?" Kazuma replied.

Fell right into that one, he did.

"It's been a while, so."

[Frozen_Feet]

Kuruda nods. "Yeah, do you remember the gal? She sure was few fruits short of a full basket. You tried to order Whiskey from her, she insisted we only served 'juice'. Hot damn she got angry if you didn't get the hint. Never understood what went around in her head..."

[Kuroimaken]

"I don't think I remember her all that well, no." Kazuma noted. He was still a poor liar in that his body language gave him away (there wasn't much face to see for that to betray him), but he at least knew enough about lying that you never claim to remember things you couldn't possibly know.

The old man's train of thought would likely further derail from there. Or so he hoped anyway.

Having finished his whiskey, he turned to take a look at the likely quickly devolving brawl.

[Frozen_Feet]

"Is that so?" Kuruda closes one eye, the other giving a burning stare at Kazuma. It's as if he wants to roast him under his cloak. "There was this other fella, Amagatsu Kazuma we used to call him, around back then. Violent thug and a lousy pick-pocket, that bastard was. You sure it doesn't ring a bell?

[Kuroimaken]

"Yeah, I heard about him. Didn't know he sucked at pickpocketing, though. What I heard of that guy was more along the lines of mugging. A violent thug, like you said." Kazuma had to restrain a chuckle and a curse at badmouthing himself. I never even TRIED pickpocketing because I knew I couldn't do it to save my life!

[Frozen_Feet]

"Yeah. Mugging", the old man grumbles. Then he slowly rises up from his seat... is he intending to walk to Kazuma?

[Kuroimaken]

Kazuma restrains his twitching. He's been doing this farce up until now, so why ruin it with knee-jerk reactions? If the old man intends on walking up to him, the youngster sure won't stop him.

[Kuroimaken]

((Time to jerk this awake a little bit.))

"B-b-b-b-b-boss!!! We got trouble!!"

In rushes a positively pale underling. He looks less than rank-and-file - someone probably ordered him to come here because anyone competent enough is dealing with whatever scared the heck out of him.

A more capable underling places himself between the poor bastard and the one he's called boss.

"Oi, you gotta be more respectful in front of the boss! Don't just act like there's a fireball coming our way!"

"I-I-I-I w-w-w-wish it was just a f-f-f-fireball," the underling spouts. "It's Onizuma! Onizuma's back!"

"You bust your head somewhere on your way here, Jirou? Onizuma's gone, everyone knows that!"

"I'm n-n-n-not making this up!! He got Tetsuya!! And he even left a note!"

Jirou handed the note to the underboss.

Dear Gorou,

How the <censored> are ya? I leave the place alone for a few decades and this is the kinda dump you make it into? Swear to <censored> Hell, you're losing what little redeeming qualities you had in you when I left this <censored> so many years ago.

Though to be fair, it's not only YOUR fault.

Why don'tcha grab the rest of that knitting club you call the Shigokuou and get to the old mansion in the outskirts in a couple of days? Allow me to catch up.

Or I could just erase your <censored> family tree from the world. That works for me too.

Yours truly,
Onizuma

P.S.: I <censored> your <censored> last night. <censored> <censored> <censored> it.

Spoiler

Show

Quick explanation: Shigokuou - Four Kings of Hell (as opposed to the Four Heavenly Kings of Buddhist myth. They're not a real thing). It's basically a clique made up of the four strongest gang leaders of Zaraki. Which will be played by you guys - Frozen_Feet, Sucrose, Kayne650 and Nicklance. Let me know if anybody wants dibs on Gorou.

[Kayne650]

The man sitting next to Kazuma suddenly sat up straighter when the underling ran in. When Jirou started talking, the man stood up and started walking towards the collection of thugs. It was when he walked that Kazuma would recognize him; a telltale limp in his left leg, though terribly slight now, would remind Kazuma of the bland little boy who used to follow him around back when Kazuma was feared in the Rukongai. How long had it been since Kazuma had seen him? Decades, maybe even a century or more? Time seemed to move so oddly in Soul Society. What was his name, even? But as the young man approached the thugs now, there was something to his walk that hadn't been there so many years ago; a sense of absolute confidence, as if nothing in the world could harm him. He walked up to Jirou and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You say that Onizuma's back? Did you actually see him?" The young man asked as Jirou's head slowly turned towards him.

"Yeah! I saw him, and I saw him and Tetsuya fighting, and..."

"Did you fight him too? How did you survive?" The young man interjected.

"Well...no. I didn't fight, I just ran and hid when the fighting started. But I found the note on Tetsuya's body, and I-" He was cut short by the young man suddenly grabbing his head and twisting hard, snapping his neck instantly. The other thugs stood perfectly still, as if by holding still they could keep the young man from noticing him. The young man didn't seem to notice their fear.

"There's no room for cowards here, Jirou. And if you did run, then you have no right to call Tetsuya-san by his first name alone. Give me the note." He said to the underboss, who immediately complied. The young man read it for a little while, and his mouth cracked into a smirk. "Heh. Same old Kazuma-sama," he whispered to himself, though Kazuma may be able to just hear it if he strains. Why couldn't he remember the man's name? Had the child meant so little to him back then? Not that one could really trouble oneself with children in Zaraki.

"All of you. Keep an eye out for Onizuma. I doubt he'd reveal himself yet, but if he does, I want to be informed immediately." He shook his head as he grumbled to himself, "I can't believe he'd be so dumb as to announce his presence." The young man suddenly turned on his heel and walked away from the bar, tossing a few coins onto the counter as he left.

As he left, the bartender shuddered. After he had gone, the bartender collected the coins and muttered to himself. "I hate when Shin'ichi-sama comes here. Someone always dies, and he barely tips."