Chapter 6.1 (2/2)

In Yamata’s case, however, there was a catch: he didn’t think of anyone except for himself. And that was his undoing.

Doing what one liked, as long as they could, to the extend they could. It was like that for everyone. Yata did what he pleased, and even Fus.h.i.+mi himself wasn’t an exception, doing what he wanted. The question, however, was, whether or not one had enough strength to insist on having one’s own way. If the answer was negative, then would one choose to ignore the fact and become defiant? Or would they give in and compromise at some point? The world worked in such a way that knowing these boundaries was essential. But this guy didn’t know them. When things didn’t go his way, he was able to only flail his arms, stomp his feet and find faults with everybody else.

A common brat was what he was.

“…Huh? What the h.e.l.l are you talking about, you a.s.swipe? I ain’t asking about your reasons or excuses…!” Yata was finally on the verge of losing it, popping a vein as he glared at Yamata. Flames started dancing around his clasped fist, probably without him realizing.

Well then, Fus.h.i.+mi narrowed his eyes. The blood rushed to Yata’s head real good this time, and it was no joke how furious he was at the moment. With him like that, it would be difficult to catch the timing to stop him… oh well, if Fus.h.i.+mi failed to stop him in time, come what may, he supposed. There were things that just couldn’t be helped, after all.

If he was honest, Fus.h.i.+mi didn’t share any of Yata’s anger. Homura was full of holes and stupidity anyway, and Fus.h.i.+mi had been acc.u.mulating  - for quite a long time, too - quite a bit of resentment even towards Yata, who kept exalting Homura as something sacred.

Though, he had to admit, seeing his partner enraged wasn’t a bad thing. Like this, Yata swung his fists of his own will, not trying to hide or fake his desires. And that was the right thing to do, in Fus.h.i.+mi’s book.

Fus.h.i.+mi verified the situation in the bar once again. It had been a while since he was in such a good mood. If Yata really wanted to do it, he was prepared to stick with him till the end.

But…

“Yata. Fus.h.i.+mi. That would be enough,” a calm and clear sounding voice came from the door Yata smashed in earlier, making both Yata and Fus.h.i.+mi turn sharply to the source of voice, only to be met with an unusually strict gaze from the voice’s owner.

“Totsuka-san…!” Yata groaned.

Totsuka, smiling wistfully, slowly crossed into the bar. Surveying the situation inside, he said, “…I’m relieved. Looks like I’ve made it more or less in time, after all. I’m aware of what’s going on. And I understand your feelings, believe me, Yata, but I’m asking you to stop here. —Yamata, I expect the same of you, as well.”

Just like that, in a moment, he took the situation under control, the effect of his presence and capabilities leaving nothing to be desired. Fus.h.i.+mi gave a small displeased tongue click. It looked like this was as far as the party he was enjoying was allowed to go.

Totsuka gave all the present another once-over before asking, “How many of you are affiliated with Homura? I ask those of you who are, to follow me. I’m not going to do anything violent to you, so don’t be afraid. I just want to talk to you. For both our sakes.”

His voice was quiet, yet the compelling force it held was such that it penetrated into the hearts of those listening to his words.

To Fus.h.i.+mi, that capacity for accepting others and the ability to lead them was something he could never hope to copy. And that, he readily acknowledged and took off his hat to Totsuka. He was forced to recognize, if not without some envy, that that, too, was a form of “strength”. And that was where the true value of Homura’s third-in-command, usually so silly and careless, lay.

Before Fus.h.i.+mi knew it, Yata turned meek as a lamb, with his head hung in shame, and the majority of the people in the bar were following Totsuka’s orders. Totsuka sent a quick glance Fus.h.i.+mi’s way. For a moment, Fus.h.i.+mi felt rebellious feelings surge inside him, but his common sense kicked in just as fast, and he simply shrugged his shoulders.

The party was over. And Yata probably was satisfied enough now, too. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted, Fus.h.i.+mi supposed. It wasn’t a missed opportunity, in any case. What was left now was to dispa.s.sionately deal with whatever boring s.h.i.+t needed to be dealt with in the aftermath…

Except…

Fus.h.i.+mi’s prediction was not meant to be, as he found out as soon as he had the thought.

“Freeze! This is Scepter 4!”

The ones to burst into the bar at that moment were troops in the all too familiar blue uniform. Totsuka looked at them over his shoulder with displeasure written all over his features, and Yata turned red in the face, glaring at the newcomers.

“Huuh?! b.u.t.t the f.u.c.k out!” Yata’s angry bellow resonated throughout the bar.

As it did, Yamata, not wasting the opportune moment, jumped to his feet and rushed deeper into the joint. And it dawned on Fus.h.i.+mi: the bar must have a backdoor, and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was planning to use it to make his getaway.

“Yata, Fus.h.i.+mi! Sorry, but I’ll leave dealing with this to you two!” were Totsuka’s parting words as he ran to chase Yamata.

Well, whatever. Fus.h.i.+mi had already lost all interest in Yamata anyway. If he had to choose, Scepter 4 seemed more interesting to confront.

Yata, taking Totsuka’s request to heart, was burning again as he charged the Scepter 4 members. The Scepter 4 rookies, still raw and inexperienced, met the enemy with tense faces.

Well, what do you know. It looked like he still could have plenty of fun with this.

Smirking with joy, Fus.h.i.+mi took his position as Yata’s support.

<script>