Eleutheromania [A Bungou Stray Dogs Fanfiction]

Chapter 2

She jogged down the street, carpetbag awkwardly balanced on her head in a desperate attempt to shield herself from the rain. Up ahead, she could see the hotel and it indeed looked like it was, as that Dazai man had so eloquently put it, 'not the best place'. At this point, Emily didn't have many more options and certainly wasn't about to be picky about it.

Shouldering her way through the clouded glass doors, she took a breath of relief before wrinkling her nose at the odd smell.

Why'd it smell like roses and cat litter?

Ugh. Hotels.

Emily had forgotten how some hotels can just smell shady.

Oh well.

She brushed the water off her bag and swept her damp bangs out of her face, warily eyeing the lobby (specifically the ratty maroon carpeting). Reception was empty and when nobody made an appearance after she'd loudly dropped her bag between her legs and started to tap on the counter, Emily rolled her eyes.

At this point it might be better to find somewhere else.

"Hello?" she called, propping both arms on the wooden counter.

No response.

No bell either...

She growled under her breath. What kind of hotel doesn't have a bell?

"Excuse me? Is anybody here?" Lifting herself slightly on her hands, she tried to peer into the back room. "Hello?"

Emily's face was set in a deep frown... she was actually starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the eerie silence. Quietly making her way around the desk her mind started to race... What if that Atsushi guy had been the weird one? What if they were both weird and had pointed her to some more-than-shady joint? What if-

Her panicked train of thought came to an abrupt stop at the sight of the receptionist- a middle aged woman dressed tidily with her black hair up in a loose bun- huddled in the corner, her eyes wide and body locked up in fear. A few tears were threatening to leak out of her eyes, her hand stuffed in her mouth in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. Emily inhaled sharply, rushing over to help in whatever way she can, but the woman merely tucked herself further into herself, shaking her head wildly.

Realizing that the woman was afraid of her, Emily frantically waved her hands in denial, dropping onto her knees and slowly shuffling forwards. "Hey, hey! I won't hurt you! What's wrong?"

The woman only shook her head harder, only this time making desperate shushing motions with her free hand. Emily frowned, opening her mouth only to snap it shut as a loud crash reverberated through the building... and silence fell again.

Moments later, loud voices began to cut through it, echoing down the hall. A man began to scream. Emily stared over her shoulder with wide eyes. She'd heard that scream many times, the scream of the terrified.

The scream of a man who knew he was about to die.

She slowly stood, turning and quietly making her way towards the front portion of the reception area as the noise grew closer.

"Please, please! I'll get it for you! I can get it for you! I just need a few more days, just a few! I'll get it! I'll get it!"

The man was truly desperate, and finally in view as the group turned the corner. Emily leaned against the desk, resting her elbows on the surface as she put on a blank face and casually observed them. A group of five men, two wielding guns and two dragging the fifth man- a sobbing, pathetic mess.

The gun-wielder in the front of the group froze at the sight of the woman watching them, her chin propped casually in her hand. Emily locked eyes with him and she merely blinked. His hair was brown and spiky, his youthful face hardened, though the bandage slapped across the bridge of his nose wasn't as threatening as the rest of his face.

A bright smile popped onto her face, chin still in her left palm, and she wagged a finger at his weapon.

"Nice gun."

His jaw dropped and even the whimpering man grew quiet, despite his captors' grip.

"MP5, Heckler and Koch right?" Emily winked as the man mutely nodded his head. "Nice choice."

Several moments of awkward silence passed by as Emily continued to eye the man's gun.

Jealous.

She really wanted one of those. She sighed and shrugged.

"Well? Aren't you doing something?" she gestured to the wreck of a man who was still hanging limply between two of the armed men.

The spiky haired guy squinted at her, gesturing over his shoulder towards the other three with a tilt of his head. Their prisoner resumed his screaming, but was immediately silenced by a smack to the temple. Emily merely smiled innocently at the group, even going as far as to cheerfully wiggle her fingers at the leader in farewell.

She had to hold in a snigger. Apparently he was so suspicious of her behavior, he felt that he needed to back out of the door, still squinting.

Her eyes remained focused on the door, in case they decided she was too suspicious to leave be.

Nothing.

Retreating back towards the huddled receptionist, Emily dropped to one knee.

"They're gone now."

The woman slowly began to unfurl herself, her nose runny and her eyes red from tears.

"Do you know who they were?" Emily asked quietly as she helped the distraught lady to her feet. The woman gave her a look that clearly said 'how do you not know?', before answering;

"P-Port Mafia."

She obviously wasn't going to say anything more, instead choosing to move up front as she dabbed at her eyes.

Emily stared at the floor in thought.

Port Mafia, hm? Sounds like bad news...

Making her way back to the front of the desk, she decided to brush the incident away for now. She was drained, nothing was registering quite right, and she just wanted to sleep.

"You wouldn't happen to have any rooms open, would you?"

The receptionist nodded, reaching somewhere below to retrieve a key, silently resting it in Emily's hand.

"Room 4."

"Ugh, thank you."

Finally.

Sleep, rest, bed.

AN: Hello all! Much welcome to new followers and favoriters! Thank you reviewers!! Keep up the feedback, it keeps me inspired!