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typingatlightspeed · 2 months ago

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TF2 Fanfic - The Extreme Path Chapter 4

Spy witnesses the Makai family's threats firsthand, and with no doubt left in his mind, has to reconcile with the fact that a promise made to him almost forty years ago was being broken. Yoko is horrified about this revelation of Spy's past, and poor Sniper, Scout, and Kazuhiro are caught in the crossfire. Good news, however, the team's final member has arrived, and man oh man is he immediately gunning for the team's gunman.

Ao3 Link! Part of Monstrous Intent!

I promise I didn't mean to rip off a major plot point of Ryu Ga Gotoku/Yakuza 1, it just ended up happening that way! o-o Also warning for domestic violence, as well as murder but this is ostensibly a TF2 fic so murder is part and parcel yanno?

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Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

The crash of splintering wood woke Spy with a start. He heard men yelling, and sprung to his feet. Snatching his balisong and watch from beneath his pillow, he tore out of his room in his underwear, skidding barefoot to a halt in the lobby, where Yoko stood. Her hands were clenched into fists as she watched Kazuhiro charge outside with a wooden practice katana clutched in one hand.

"Yo-chan?"

"They're back again. Those Makai family assholes."

Spy made to follow Kazuhiro out, but was stopped by Yoko's hand on his bare shoulder. He turned to see her holding one of the yukata from the rack behind her, and looked down at himself. "Ah, yes. Merci."

A loud crack filled the air as wood shattered and broke, creaking as the sign for the ryokan toppled over, its supports broken yet again. A burly hibagon, an ape-man covered in shaggy black fur and wearing a suit with an ornate lapel pin, hefted his sledgehammer up over his shoulder, laughing at the destruction he'd wrought.

"Oi, Aniki! Looks like you got the bird-man's attention," called a man with white cat ears and a long black and white tail that split into a Y-shape, standing beside a car that had been haphazardly parked halfway up the walkway from the road. He was a nekomata, and he too wore a suit with a lapel pin, and a gold chain around his neck, shown by the open buttons of his garish purple shirt.

"Looks like I did," the hibagon replied with a chuckle, turning to stare down Kazuhiro as he approached, practice sword in hand. He widened his eyes. "Decide to pay up yet?"

"Get off of our property, or I will throw you off," Kazuhiro threatened, bringing the sword to bear.

The hibagon bristled. "See, that worked last time: your little samurai routine. But this time you're a little outnumbered." He motioned to the car, and two more thugs, both human in appearance, climbed out, grinning. They were dressed similarly, all glaring with wide eyes, looking wild and eager to fight.

Kazuhiro held his ground, his face stern.

"You got two options, tengu. Either you pay up, or we beat your ass and burn this cute little onsen to the ground while we carry off your woman." He dropped the sledgehammer down to just above the ground, ready to bring it to bear.

"You'd have to fight her first. May as well cut your own throat and save yourself the trouble," Kazuhiro countered with a smirk. "I'm out here to be the nice one."

"Don't think the whole nice approach is workin' for you, bud."

A knife pressed to the hibagon's throat, and in a puff of smoke, Spy decloaked, wearing the shape of his Frenchman self. "Oh good. I hate the nice approach."

"Aniki!" the nekomata yelled, holding back from charging forward as Spy forced the hibagon to turn, giving him line of sight to everyone involved. He snarled, fangs on display. "Who the fuck is this white boy?"

"I'm the guardian kami of this spring," Spy snorted, holding the knife closer, cutting through a chunk of fur to press the blade to skin. His eyes flickered to the pin on the thug's lapel, taking in its details before returning to the nekomata.

"Real fuckin' funny," the hibagon grunted. He dropped the sledgehammer and looked to Kazuhiro. "You think hirin' muscle's gonna help you? We know what you are, and some hired goon ain't gonna save you from your customers findin' out. You got 'til the end of the week to pay up, or Captain Nagoshi's making sure all of Osaka knows what you two are."

"You're makin' an awful lotta threats for a guy with a knife to his throat," Spy hummed, smirking.

"You gonna murder me on the doorstep of this ryokan? Sure that'd be great for business."

"Nobody would miss a lowlife chinpira like you."

"You talk a lotta shit for a foreigner."

"You talk a lotta shit for a dead man."

"Stop!" Kazuhiro called, looking pleadingly to Spy. "If we kill the messenger, do you think they're going to hold back on exposing us?"

Spy scoffed and pulled the knife away, shoving the yakuza thug away with an annoyed, "Tch."

Rubbing at his throat, the hibagon backed up to the car, nodding to his companions, who all climbed back in. "Friday," he growled. He stalked over and got in, slamming the door loudly. The car backed sloppily out onto the road, knocking over a jizo statue on its way and crushing a lantern, and sped off down the mountain road from whence it came.

Spy sagged. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Kazuhiro replied, sighing as he beheld his re-broken sign. "They would've beaten me bloody if you hadn't showed up."

"I'm surprised Yoko wasn't out here backin' you up."

"I don't want her dealing with them if I can avoid it," Kazuhiro reasoned. "Unlike you, she wouldn't have moved the knife."

Spy flipped his knife closed and shifted back to Shigeru. "That's true. Either way, I got a look at those lapel pins. No mistake, that really is the Makai family. Which doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Because Patriarch Ugaki swore an oath to me that the family would never touch the Morimoto foxes."

Sōemonchō, Chūō-ku, Osaka, Japan. April, 1932.

"Han!"

"Are you serious? This is fuckin' bullshit!"

The clacking of gambling tokens and clattering of dice filled the smoky room of the little gambling hall. Tucked away in a side alley, it was a large, mostly unadorned room with old-fashioned decor, a wall with a sliding door separating it from the back of the house. Upon the tatami floor sat a host of gamblers sitting across from a few dealers running cho-han, shaking dice in small baskets and upending them in games of guessing evens or odds. An angry young man dressed in an ill-fitting suit jumped to his feet, pointing accusatorily at the dealer in front of him.

"This game's rigged! No way it's han five rolls in a row!"

"Sir, please be seated if you wish to continue to play," the dealer—a pretty young woman dressed in a kimono—asked, lifting the dice between her fingers and dropping them back into the basket.

"The fuck you mean 'sit down'?" the young man barked, leaning in angrily, towering over the seated woman. "I want back all the money you fucks stole from me!"

"Sir." The dealer looked past him and flashed a hand sign, then looked back up to him. "Sir, I understand losing is difficult, but I must ask that you calm down. You're making a scene."

"Makin' a scene?! Good! You're straight-up fleecin' me!" Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a pocket knife, flipping it open to a chorus of gasps and the thumping scramble of other patrons moving away. "I oughtta cut your tongue out for takin' to me like that!"

The dealer stared at him, looking exhausted.

The wet thump of impact interrupted any further threats, as the man fell to the ground in a heap, his knife clattering to the floor beside him. Behind him, Shigeru tucked his blackjack back into his pocket and smoothed out his jacket, which bore a lapel pin showing the Makai family crest. He took a drag from his cigarette. "Dipshit."

"Thank you, Morimoto-han," the dealer said, bowing.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Shigeru replied, stepping over the unconscious patron and past the line of dealers. He slid open a door behind them and poked his head into a room with a low table, where a group of men in finely-tailored suits were seated on the floor around it, sharing sake and chatting. "Captain Ugaki?"

A slim man with a wide nose, rounded eyes, and close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair lifted his head, smiling slightly at the sight of him. "What's up, Morimoto-chan?"

"Guy out here makin' a ruckus, drew a knife. He's takin' a nap right now. Should I take the trash out or should I make sure it's properly disposed of?"

Captain Ugaki shook his head with a laugh. "Just toss the asshole in the street. Take his wallet as a warning shot. If he decides to start shit with the family again we'll put the boots to him."

"On it, Oyaji," Shigeru said, slipping out and sliding the door closed.

Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

The sliding glass doors to the ryokan were locked. A pair of sliding wooden doors were locked in front of them. The broken sign still laid in the rock garden beside the path. In the lobby, the phone rang unanswered.

On the second floor of the main building, in Yoko and Kazuhiro's small apartment, the team sat on the living room floor around a short, square table. A sake cup rested in front of each person, a small jug at the middle of the table.

Yoko stared at Spy, not breaking eye-contact as she slugged back her sake and set the cup on the table, clacking it loudly.

Spy picked up the jug and refilled her cup.

Yoko's brows furrowed, and drank her cup again, clacking it down a little louder.

"Yo-chan..." Kazuhiro started, but was silenced as Yoko held a finger up to shush him, not sparing him a glance. She kept her eyes firmly on her brother.

Spy refilled her cup again. Yoko drank it in a single gulp and slammed the cup onto the table, rattling the other cups, making Scout, Sniper, and Kazuhiro jump.

"So tell me, Shigeru. What the fuck were you thinking?" Yoko barked, tails lashing in annoyance.

"It was after I got into espionage, but before the war. The guy I was working for had been blackmailed by someone on the extreme path—"

"Yakuza."

"What?"

"Don't use their words for themselves. They're fucking yakuza."

"You're awful venemous about them considering how much crime you've done yourself over the years."

"There's a difference."

Spy scoffed and continued. "The blackmailer was in the Makai family. Guy name of Daito Shigeki. So I came back over to get into the family to get close to him."

"Using your real name?"

"Not at first. I was goin' by Sawamura Kazuma at the time. Turned out Daito wasn't just blackmailin' foreigners who did business with the clan. He was a mole in the family, workin' on a plan to assassinate the family captain, Ugaki Goro. My employer just wanted Daito dead. The family, once I gave them a small mountain of evidence I'd gathered over a year, made that happen. But to prove all of that to Captain Ugaki, I had to play my hand about bein' undercover. Captain was so grateful anyway he made us sworn brothers, and asked if I'd stay in the family." Spy shrugged. "The Makai family targeted youkai businesses and interests, both to keep 'em as turf and to keep human families from causin' 'em trouble. The protection money was in exchange for actual protection, for the most part. Still extortion, but they at least walked the talk. So I stuck around, 'cause I knew bein' a kitsune named Morimoto on their payroll might put other kitsune named Morimoto on their radar. So if I were in the family, I could keep 'em away from anythin' you and Ken-chan might be up to."

"Don't play like you did this for our sakes."

"At first? No. Once I realized I'd fucked up royally by being exposed? Believe what you want, but I'm tellin' you that's why I stuck around."

"How long were you with them?"

"Two more years. Then it all went to shit. The patriarch, Kanda, was dating Captain Ugaki's sister, Rie. Always on the bubble of not treatin' her good, but nobody saw nothin', and even if we did, what could we say to the patriarch? But we all got the feelin'. He didn't put much respect in his mouth when he talked to her. Well one day they had it out, and he ended up hittin' her somewhere you could see it. And her brother found out."

"What'd he do?"

Sōemonchō, Chūō-ku, Osaka, Japan. April, 1934.

Everyone had heard the screaming. By the time Shigeru had arrived, he could hear police sirens in the distance. Drawing himself up, he charged up the stairs to Ugaki Rie's apartment, his guts drawn tight.

The door was ajar, the frame broken by forced entry. Splinters of wood were everywhere. He could hear a woman sobbing. Steeling himself, Shigeru pushed the door slowly open and crept inside into the darkened, single-room apartment.

Moonlight shone in from the balcony, reflecting off of a darkened puddle on the wood floor, silver-white on shadow-blackened crimson. A woman, Ugaki's sister Rie, was curled up against the side of the kitchen cabinets, holding her knees to her chest and crying. Her skirt was ripped, her hair a mess. In the middle of the room lay the body of Patriarch Kanda, dead. Deep, ragged gouges covered his body, slashed by claw and fang, his throat torn open. Hunched over him, a man-shaped otter youkai—a kawauso—knelt, blood dripping from his claws and soaking his suit.

Shigeru stopped, choked on his own breath, barely croaking out, "Captain..."

The kawauso turned, blood splattering his face, and slowly shifted into human shape, agony creasing his tear-stained features. "Morimoto-chan..."

"Captain, what—"

"I... I couldn't stop myself. When Rie called me, said he was yellin', gettin' violent, that he hit her before and she was afraid he was gonna do worse this time..." Ugaki shook his head, looking down at his hands, "I snapped. I ran the whole way here, and ripped his fuckin' throat out. I... I'm sorry, kyodai."

The sirens grew closer. "Sorry?"

"That you're gonna have to deal with a patriarch like Lieutenant Nagoshi. If the family don't just dissolve."

"The family ain't dissolvin'; what're you talkin' about?"

"The patriarch's dead. Ain't no way I ain't goin' down for this, Morimoto-chan. If the cops don't get me, the clan will. Patricide..."

Shigeru knelt beside Ugaki and looked down to the lifeless body of Kanda on the floor. "No." He shook his head. This was his sworn brother, defending his family. He'd have done the same or worse if Yoko had been in Rie's position. Panic welled in his heart as he realized the decision he'd already made, with absolutely zero deliberation. He slammed his hands down into the puddle of blood and began to wipe it on himself, soaking his hands in it, smearing it on his arms, his face, his suit.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Ugaki barked, grabbing hold of Shigeru's wrists.

"My duty as your sworn brother. The family needs you. Rie-san needs you. And you know there's not a prison that can hold me. You need to run, before the cops get here. Get to the river, ditch those clothes. Lay low, and get back to the family." He dug in his jacket pocket, pulling out a large pearl, about the size of a tennis ball. It glowed softly, subtly, barely lighting the hand that held it, and he handed it to Ugaki. "Hide this somewhere I'll expect. I'll need it once I break out."

"Your hoshitama? Shigeru, no..."

"Look, I discovered my sworn brother's sister was bein' brutalized, and I went to take matters into my own hands before the family even found out. I—I'm a new swear-up. Kasuga Akira." Shigeru shifted his face to something generic, an everyman who didn't stand out, and looked to Rie. "Rie-san? Do you hear that? My name is Kasuga, and I came here to defend you! Your brother had no idea!"

Sniffling, Rie nodded, eyes blackened and swollen nearly shut, her nose bloody. Shigeru looked back down to Kanda's corpse and snarled. Being mauled was too easy a death for what he deserved.

Ugaki nodded, clearly unable to change his subordinate's mind. "Fine, okay. I'll get you an identity, a-and I'll lawyer you up and make sure you don't hang. But you better get outta prison like you said."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, a sad smile crossed Shigeru's lips. "Just promise me somethin'."

"Anythin'."

Shigeru leveled a severe glare at his captain. "The family never touches the Morimoto foxes."

Ugaki took Shigeru's hand and clasped it tightly. "I swear you this oath. Nobody touches the Morimoto foxes."

Satisfied, Shigeru gave his hand a squeeze, then released him. "Thank you, kyodai. Now go! Get outta here before the cops show up!" With a wave of his hand and a flash of magic, he pushed an invisibility spell onto his captain and shoved him away, staring at the empty air as his unseen sworn brother took flight, his footsteps retreating until sirens drowned them out.

Looking back down at Kanda, Shigeru let his hands slip into claws, and gave the son of a bitch one last gouge for good measure.

Yamamori Ryokan, Izumisano, Osaka, Japan. June 6th, 1970.

"You went to PRISON for them?!" Yoko yelled, slamming her hands on the table and pitching up onto her knees. The other cups on the table clattered, and Kazuhiro recoiled in shock. Sniper and Scout shared a nervous look, while Spy remained nonplussed.

"For three months. Their security was a joke. Captain Ugaki hid my hoshitama on the roof of the family office, which I took and left without contact. I was back in Paris before the season changed."

"NOT THE POINT!"

"Then what is the point? Yo-chan, the amount of morally suspect shit I've done in my life, both before and after leavin' Japan the first time would turn your fur white."

"If my fur were white then I'd be able to get a job workin' for Inari-okami and I wouldn't be here puttin' up with your bullshit!"

"She's awful mad," Scout mumbled, leaning in to Sniper. "Should we..." he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, wordlessly suggesting an exit.

Sniper nodded, and looked to Kazuhiro, who made eye contact and slowly nodded in agreement. Each slugged back their sake and quietly made their egress.

"She's a spitfire," Sniper muttered as the three descended the stairs into the ryokan proper, the 'staff only' door at its bottom left open.

"Like gettin' yelled at by Ma. Same kinda attitude, like 'is this the time I finally push 'er over the edge an' she stabs me?'"

"Yo-chan is often more calm," Kazuhiro replied, his English hesitant, and thickly-accented. "She hate yakuza."

"I mean, can't say I blame 'er," Scout replied, carefully hopping down the last step to avoid scuffing the hardwood with his hooves. "They keep rollin' in an' wreckin' 'er shit. If I built all this up by hand I'd wanna light the fuckers on fire too."

"Strewth."

Scout winced as a tirade he couldn't understand echoed down the stairs in Spy's voice. "You think they're gonna be okay?"

"I think they will. Lot of emotion," Kazuhiro assured him, looking nervously back the way they'd come.

"Tadaima!"called a man's voice from the entryway, startling all three men.

Kazuhiro dashed through the lobby, sliding to a halt on his socks as he saw a man dressed in a business suit stepping out of his shoes and onto the hardwood floor, both doors closed behind him. "Kenji-san! How did you get in here?"

Sniper and Scout trotted in after Kazuhiro, eyes on the newcomer. He was about Scout's height, but broader, athletically built even under the concealing lines of his navy suit, which bore a lapel pin in the shape of a rounded sunflower with a balance scale at its centre. His face was narrow and clean-shaven, with golden-brown eyes and an aquiline nose. His short salt-and-pepper hair was parted to one side. From his backside, three orange tails trailed, the white at their tips more pronounced than Spy's and Yoko's. He had a duffel slung around his torso, with one hand resting on the strap.

"Well I knocked for about ten minutes, then just gave up and picked the locks. Don't worry; I locked up behind me. You know, if you're expecting visitors, you should really be listening for them to arrive," the man, Kenji, explained with a chuckle. He looked to the foreigners, lifting an eyebrow, tensing and almost-instantly relaxing the moment he saw Scout's antlers and cervine legs. "You have guests?"

"Oh, these are friends of Shigeru-san, from his work in America."

"Of course Shige-chan surrounds himself with gorgeous men," Kenji snorted.

"He's a man of taste. This is Mun—"

Kenji surged forward and offered Sniper a handshake and bow together, his eyes roving the taller man, checking him out without any attempt at concealing it. "Morimoto Kenji, a pleasure to meet you," he said in English, flashing him a winning smile, complete with fangs.

Sniper smiled in return, taking his hand for a hearty shake and bowing in addition, making sure to make an obvious show of appraising him in return. "Mundy," he replied. When Kenji released him, he gestured to Scout. "And this is Scout."

"Nice to meet you," Kenji offered, affording Scout a far less lacivious but still pleasantly flirty handshake and bow combination.

"Yeah, right back atcha," Scout replied with a wink, glad he was willing to talk to him rather than just let Sniper translate. "Your English is real good!"

"Thank you," Kenji chuckled, releasing Scout. "I don't speak as many languages as Shige-chan, but I like to think I'm no slouch. And in my line of work, it's more helpful than you'd expect."

"Whatcha you do for a livin'?"

"I'm a defense attorney," Kenji chirped proudly, tapping his lapel pin. "I specialize in representing youkai in court, since we have differing needs compared to humans." He looked to Kazuhiro. "Speakin' of youkai, where are Shige-chan and Yo-chan? I brought some sweets from the city."

"Upstairs. It seems Shigeru-san has a more... intimate knowledge of the situation than any of us had thought."

#team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #Monstrous Intent #TF2 Spy #TF2 Scout #TF2 Sniper #TF2 OC #Morimoto Yoko #Yamabane Kazuhiro #Morimoto Kenji #Ugaki Goro #from this point on: prizes awarded to folks who get the references in these character names lmao

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