AN UNLIKELY ADVERSARY

The events leading up to this moment had been a long hard-fought battle and though Kiryu could feel his heart constricting beneath his ribcage on the race to the Millennium Tower, he could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. At last, he would be met with the opportunity to glare at the face of the man that had caused him and his family's pain and torment then bash it in. He flicked a quick glance around the area, verifying that he hadn't been followed before his long legs lunged up the short flight of stairs ahead of the entrance.

Once inside, a cool burst of air blew against his sweaty face and had he not been so hot from the foot race there, he might have gotten the chills. He paused for a moment, clutching at his hips to widen the span of his chest so that he could catch his breath with ease. As he did this, he scoped the lobby for the band of yakuza who had no doubt been waiting in place to ambush him. When he'd seen no signs of any such attempt, his brow furrows deepened.

His mouth was dry from the run, his heart still turning tricks beneath his hard muscle and a solid lump was beginning to form in his throat. He was sure to begin vibrating with anticipation from the buildup of adrenaline and he couldn't wait to unleash it. His fists were clenched as he made his way through the empty lobby; it always struck him as odd that there never seemed to be anyone in the building, despite the many offices the tower was home to and the fact that these were typical work hours on a weekday.

It was so quiet that it was almost eerie.

Using a strong pointer, Kiryu pressed the call button for the elevators, still scoping the area as if he expected suited men to drop down from the ceiling. A soft chime called for his attention and with a soft huff, he entered the well-lit elevator. After pressing the rooftop button, he rolled his thumb over his fingers, noting the sweat collecting on them as he recalled his underwhelming entrance.

He was baffled– and slightly offended that there wasn't an impossibly large amount of adversaries awaiting his arrival. Had he gotten his information mixed up? Had he gone to the wrong rendezvous point? Did his sources screw him over? What sort of yakuza made it this easy for a man like himself to reach their patriarch? Just who was he dealing with here? There was no way in hell that some low-rung family with no foot soldiers at their disposal was capable of wreaking such havoc on his life, to the likes of which Kazuma had never seen. His chest puffed in a snort at the realization that washed over him... He was being set up.

Suddenly, he could feel a rush of adrenaline in his toes.

He was certain now that the ambush would come on the roof in the form of a militia, armed and lethal. There must have been guns, swords and hell, if he was truly unlucky perhaps they'd prepared a fireworks show for him complete with grenades and rocket launchers. This foe must have arranged for the final showdown to begin with a false sense of ease so that he would lower his guard and right when he succumbed to his doubts of their capabilities, they would swoop in for the kill!

Sure, it was a decently impressive strategy but he'd been at this game long enough that even a well thought out plan like that wouldn't be enough to shake him. His brown, determination filled eyes darted up to the glowing floor indicator and he slung his head in either direction, cracking his neck before assuming his combat stance just as the elevator chimed. He was guarded, uninterested in inviting the first grunt of the evening to a cheap shot. His breathing was heavy but measured as he took long, slow strides out of the elevator, checking both directions before he ventured out into the walkway.

He scanned his surroundings and when there was still zero sign of anyone- not even a potted plant out of place (and surely he would notice by now) – his tense shoulders gradually began to droop. What the hell was going on here? He thought as he semi-casually walked his way up to the helipad. He was starting to get frustrated. All signs pointed to there being no reason to anticipate an attack and yet, he refused to lower his guard.