The Accompanist

Chapter 41: Cold Blooded Hatred

Trigger warning: Graphic depictions of violence and panic attacks. Don't eat while you read this chapter. Although it's nothing you haven't seen if you've watched AoT or JJK -_-

Mr. Umari was down the hall, asleep against the wall when he heard a gut-wrenching scream. He assumed it was part of the aforementioned terrible plan that he hated and only went through with because he couldn't butt in. But when he saw the look on Shiki's face as Katsumi walked out with Sayaka over his shoulder in nothing but a t-shirt, he rushed forward without thinking.

Four guns were immediately pointed at his head.

He crouched low, and the bullets sunk into the wall behind him. Mr. Umari stood and wrenched the gun out of one man's hand, kicked him where it hurt, and pointed the barrel at the other man, firing at his fingers.

"What happened?"

"Katsumi nabbed Sayaka," said Shiki, cursing under his breath, kicking the third man in his muscular stomach so hard he fell back against the wall before he could so much as aim his gun.

Mitsuo gladly joined in, taking advantage of the flustered gunmen. He slipped behind him, twisted his arm, and inserted two fingers into the man's nostrils, pulling him back over his shoulder. As he yelped, Mitsuo easily inserted the barrel of the man's own gun into his wide open mouth. "I suggest you don't try anything else... Or I'll shoot a hole straight through your the top of your head. And you will die a very slow and painful death..."

No one had ever really seen Mitsuo fight. Mr. Umari included. And as Mitsuo's yellow eyes gleamed at the last two men standing, it wasn't difficult for Mr. Umari to snap out of his trance, catch one off guard, and knock him out.

The fourth, who's knuckles were bleeding profusely, muttered something about them all being monsters and got down on his knees in surrender.

"Where's Boutarou?"

"In there," said Shiki, jabbing a thumb towards the room behind him. "I don't think he's doing too well though..."

Mr. Umari raced through the open door to find two men, their guns pointed at the emotional wreckage of what remained of Boutarou.

"Come any closer, and we'll shoot!"

Of all situations, Mr. Umari hated hostage situations the most. But it seemed like Mitsuo was perfectly able to deal with them.

Footsteps silent, he was in the room before anyone knew it. He snapped the neck of one man, stole his gun, and shot the other. "I don't particularly like the no killing policy," said Mitsuo. "It makes things much harder."

The man who had been shot wasn't quite dead. And as his shaky hand reached for the pistol on the ground, Mr. Umari kicked it away.

"Where did he take her?"

The man didn't answer. He only continued reaching, the hole in the side of his head giving Mr. Umari the gags. But his eyes remained cool and calm as he stomped down on the fingers reaching towards the scattering gun. "I asked you a question."

"T-The girl was taken by Katsumi," grunted the remaining conscious idiot. "You'll never find her... And by the time you do, it'll be too late."

He was a double crosser from the start... Usually, Nobuyuki's eye for people isn't wrong... A betrayal of this scale is going to cost us lives.

He turned his attention to Boutarou's crumpled form for a mere moment. It seemed like he was in severe pain. Perhaps it wasn't a panic attack but a heart attack.

With a click of his tongue, he picked the man up off of the floor by his hair and slammed his head hard into the ground. It put him out of his misery.

Turning towards the boy his daughter loved more dearly than life itself, he shook his shoulder. "Boutarou. Boutarou!"