Rebellion of the Soul

Chapter 7(2): The Quiet Master of the Quaint Village (Act 2)

  "Before I'm caught at least I can have the pleasure of seeing that terrified expression melded onto your dying face!"  

Without any more hesitation, he pulled the trigger and a searing crack discharged from the barrel of the gun.

Then, all was silent.

Gradually, lifting his head, Yoshimura analysed the room. Shards of metal glittered onto the floor, followed by the sound of huffing that gradually became more and more rapid and distraught.

Yoshimura's lips formed a boisterous smirk. The first time his face had ever experienced such a smirk, or any smirk, for longer than he could remember. As on that day, Yoshimura Shizuo had overcome all odds, fate, and even overcome the spiteful messenger of death itself. Warmth from the lamp began to wash over him once again, and the unearthly darkness that loomed over him was now dispersing.

Turning to greet his aggressor with the tables well and truly turned, he admired the expression of absolute disbelief on the other's face.

"I-Impossible, m-my gun... it... broke?"

Yoshimura moved his attention to the shattered pieces of the thin metal suppressor that had taken the brunt of the force. He then shifted his sight to the weapon itself: what remained of the barrel piece was now bruised and gashed, rife with deep cracks.

"You... How did you do this!?"

Rushed with a fresh sense of confidence, Yoshimura felt it only kind to explain:

"I knew that when you first held the gun to my head, you had yet to load in any sort of ammunition. So..." Yoshimura pointed to his pocket. "I could only assume you were planning to load it if I was being uncooperative. After all, why bother loading your gun if it would only incriminate you?"

The failed assassin gritted his teeth, his anger rising with each accurate detail that tormented his mind. Yoshimura continued.

"Your threats were empty, and you only shot me out of panic and impatience. Fortunately for me, Hazamada's distraction allowed me to sneak a marble into your pocket. I may not know much about handguns, but I doubt it would function properly if a medium sized marble were to be forced against such a small firing hole. Of course, it was a big risk, considering how close the gun was to my head."

"You're telling me... that this was all luck?"

"Completely."

Bloodlust flooded the attacker's vision. Without so much as a first though, let alone a second, he reached for his back pocket and brandished a sharp and concealable knife, swinging it directly for Yoshimura's chest. In the same moment, Yoshimura leapt onto the carpet and pulled it loose, jostling his balance. Both assailant and knife fell to the floor. The unassuming clatter of the knife against the revealed wood flooring marked the end of his troubles.

At that moment, the door swung open and a number of police officers marched inside, darting their vision across the room immediately. Shortly behind them was Hazamada, struggling to feign sobriety. Yoshimura staggered to his feet, lifting his palm to his brow and clutching his temple. Despite his feeling of overwhelming appreciation for surviving that moment, he was also overcome by the sheer fact that he was standing here on his own two feet, as opposed to six feet under.

The police began to shout and one kept his weapon pointed at the man collapsed in the corner, while the other went over to interrogate him. In a calming contrast, Hazamada approached Yoshimura, placing a hand on his shoulder. The white mist that clouded in his eyes churned and swelled, but a look of pride was still visible in the form of a pure hazel as he looked back into the eyes of Yoshimura. He spoke, quietened and less slurred than before.