Unholy!

Where it starts

When trust is a gamble, silence is the only sure bet.
It may not win you the pot, but it won't leave you bankrupt either.

---

Father and son sit in complete silence after Kong has left the bar. The kind of silence that is so loud, that you want to cover your ears. For a while the world seems to have stopped spinning at the edge of that counter, where the two men remain in the dim light, lost in their thoughts.

The last events come as a shock. A shock that shakes everything in one fell swoop. Megumi feels it like the wind from a storm he didn't see coming, drawing him in.

He can't quite believe this is happening to his life. It's a loop of nausea and vertigo, a rollercoaster he never bought a ticket for, and he has no idea how much longer he can hold on.

At what point did his life take such a wrong turn? Well, actually he knows...

If he could press a button to beam himself back to his dull, dreary life as a lackey alongside Satoru Gojo, promising nothing more than a lifetime of second-place paychecks and no hope of ever being debt-free, he would, without thinking.

A soft rustle sound pulls Megumi out of his thoughts, and he notices the draft beside him from his father, who has turned on the barstool beside him.

„You not going to look inside?" Toji nods toward the box sitting on the counter in front of Megumi. The box he got from his so-called 'godfather', something Megumi is still unable to wrap his head around.

The boy swallows. Does he want to? He exchanges a brief glance with his father and then turns his attention to the 'gift'.

He takes another deep breath to buy himself a few more seconds, then slowly lifts the lid of that shiny black box. What greets him sends a shiver through every muscle in his body. A gun...

He quickly snaps the lid shut again and peers over his shoulder, to make sure no one is watching them.

The room is still empty. No one's here except for the waiter, calmly wiping down tables at the far end. Outside it should still be dark, probably just before sunrise in the morning, a time when there're only few people out and about. That knowledge doesn't make Megumi feel safe, though. He looks back at his father, who seems entirely unfazed and raises only one eyebrow in lazy indifference. „Want me to show you how to load it?"

A shudder climbs Megumi's throat and he swallows it down. „Here?!" His voice is small, yet urgent.

Toji shrugs with the weary nonchalance of someone who's long stopped pretending to give a damn. „Why not? This place has seen worse."

„I don't know if this is the right place, tho...", Megumi stammers, uncertain.

In his head, the walls here have ears and the furniture has eyes, and the last thing he wants is to provoke or summon something he can't control. Just by being here, he's already locked in a tug-of-war with fate again. Any normal person would probably deny him any survival instinct at all.

Toji yawns and then empties the last of his now stale beer.

„It's definitely the right time. Or what exactly are you waiting for? A bounty hunter to drop by and walk you through your own execution? If we don't think of something, you'll be six feet under by next week. Better to have something so you don't go down without a fight. Don't you think?"

Megumi opens his mouth, but no words come out. How can his old man be so dry about this? Is there anyone left who gets rattled by the death of a human being? But no matter how hard it is to admit it... he's right... somehow.