Just Fun and Games (Tsuchiya, Mizu, Ryo)

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

OOC: Outfit.

It was a cool, gloomy, grey day.

Kiyama sat on bench by the road, leaning his head against his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair as he gazed off to the sky. It was the kind of day on which Kiyama figured most would like to stay inside, and Kiyama hated being stuck in the house. But that day he had an excuse to go out, no matter what the weather would be.

For once, he had plans.

It happened last week. One of those days between practice and dinner at Kamone, the topic of conversation of hobbies came up. Kiyama had mentioned his habit of hanging around the local arcade. He didn't think it was a big deal. It was something all guys did at least occasionally, and something that all yankees did whether they cared for video games or not.

So it struck him as weird when Tsuchiya's eyes went wide and he began to prod his senior about what kind of games were there. Kiyama described his usual picks and recounted his experiences much like he was talking about what he ate for breakfast. Yet the first-year hung on his every word, urging him to continue on. And he did, well after their arrival at the Azumas' and into their meal.

Finally Tsuchiya looked up to Kiyama and asked if he could join him at the arcade one day. Kiyama hadn't thought too much about it at the time; he merely shrugged and nodded before taking a sip of his tea and resumed eating his omelette rice. It wasn't until after he'd taken a few bites that he looked up again and saw the wonderfully content smile spread across the boy's face. He could feel the anticipation radiating from Tsuchiya as he carefully cut his next bite of egg and rice, dismissing his excitement as the enthusiasm he seemed to have in regards to everything else.

Even thinking about the look on the kid's face brought a smirk to Kiyama's lips. Really, being so excited about a trip to the local arcade? And not even a good one, too... It was something that struck him as not quite strange... was it kosher for a guy to use "cute" in reference to other guys? Should there be such an ordinance written down in Man Law, Kiyama felt that it was imperative that an exception should be made in all cases involving Tsuchiya Satoshi.

Kiyama leaned back on bench and looked to the sky again. And once again, he felt his face twist into grin, thinking about silly this was... but that kid was something else. If showing his hard-working team manager a few games that afternoon was really that big a deal, he really didn't mind it.

And then, Kiyama looked up to see the boy walking up to him, that same smile he wore earlier that week on his face. He stood, nodding his head in greeting.

"Hey. Shall we..." he started, gesturing to the arcade front with one hand, and shoving the other in his pocket.

[Tsuchiya Satoshi]

ooc: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS THREAD. Satoshi's outfit. The top one.

Light gray clouds coated the sky, blocking out any rays of light from the sun as Satoshi made his way from his house to the arcade. Excited couldn't even describe what he was feeling at that moment. When he had heard about the place from Kiyama, a place he had only seen from the streets, there were rumors flying around of Yankees loitering around and his mother didn't want him anywhere near Yankees. But after meeting his teammates, and once he told her who he was meeting that day, his mother consented, herself already a fan of the upperclassman her son had befriended.

He smiled, between practice, hanging out with the others at the bathhouse and the Kamone restaurant, Satoshi hadn't had any time to just hang out with Kiyama. The last time he could remember them hanging out... He slowed in his walk, the smile slipping off his face, his mind wandering. It was probably when he gave me a ride back home.

Satoshi gave his head a shake, it was silly to think that far back. The two were barely even friends then. He picked up his pace, seeing the arcade's sign, and by extension, Kiyama sitting at a nearby bench. He smiled, the grin reaching his eyes as the other looked up and saw him, getting to his feet, one hand gesturing to the arcade while the other hand disappeared into a pant pocket.

"Hey. Shall we..."

Satoshi nodded, not waiting a second longer as he took hold of Kiyama's left hand, pulling the older boy along as he entered the arcade, his eyes giving the place a once-over before settling on a machine in the back. "Kiyama-san! Let's do that one!" He tugged along Kiyama, pointing out the prizes in the crane machines, stopping just once to watch someone play a shooting game, before finally stopping in front of a DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION machine. The two playing stepped off, leaving the platform free for anyone else who wished to play.

Satoshi turned eagerly to the Yankee, "Kiyama-san, can we try this first?" A glance at Kiyama's face caused his excitement to falter, but the manager pressed on, "I have my medicine, just in case. There's nothing to worry about. I promise." He re-enforced his smile. "Please?"

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

Kiyama's greeting had barely left his lips when Tsuchiya dashed up to him and grabbed his free hand, practically pulling him into the arcade.

In fact, he didn't have any time to react to the fact that the younger boy had in fact grabbed his hand. He couldn't even think about it also proper hand-holding as Tsuchiya was dragging him around the arcade so quickly that Kiyama was having trouble keeping up, stumbling over his own feet. He could even think of it as another boy holding his hand; it reminded him much of an excited little puppy yanking its owner by his pants leg or something...

Tsuchiya stopped at various machines, declaring his desire to "try this one" before quickly starting back up again. Kiyama tried his best to make a mental note of which ones his teammate seemed eager to try

"Kiyama-san, can we try this first?"

The booming bass in that corner of the arcade was more than enough to give him an idea of what this "this" was, but he would look up to see the flashing neon lights of that dancing game. The last players just finished their turn, and Kiyama moved a bit out the way to allow them room to walk away before looking to his underclassman's face.

It would be just his luck that the boy would be most enthusiastic about the one video game in existence that's could be as physically demanding as any aerobic sport out there. Kiyama had played the game off and on for years and he still found himself sweating after many of his runs. And Tsuchiya wasn't even supposed to jog...

As if reading his thoughts, the boy interrupted him. "I have my medicine, just in case. There's nothing to worry about. I promise." Then Tsuchiya smiled his little smile, and made those big old puppy eyes... Kiyama narrowed his own eyes at the younger boy and even felt the corner of his mouth twitch a little.

Kiyama liked the kid. He didn't want to deal with any medical emergencies that day, particularly with someone he liked. In fact, even thinking about it cause this dark, sinking feeling to begin in the pit of his stomach...

"Please?"

Kiyama looked away, well aware that his resolve was faltering. He hated that the boy's face was having such an effect on the yankee known for his aloofness. After a moment, he sighed heavily, and spoke in a flat, firm tone. "One go. You do the easy mode, okay?"

He reached into his pocket, suddenly noticing that in Tsuchiya's excitement, the two had neglected to get change for the machines -- they'd have to take care of that after this round. But he found that, luckily, he had just enough for two credits of play.

"C'mon." Kiyama approached the machine, learning against the support bars on the back. He pointed the the parts of the machine as he tried his hand at an explanation. "You stand on the platform, and step on the arrows to the beat. You follow them on the screen, see?" Kiyama looked at Tsuchiya's face; it didn't seem like he was following along too well. It made sense; he thought back to his first times playing the game and trying to understand the mechanics of it. He chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking again. "I'll do one first, and you watch."

Then he walked up to the machine, popped in the coins, and started selecting the right settings for their play... his fingers lingering over the buttons before he selected the two-player option.

Keeping in mind the time limits of the menu, he quickly scrolled through and picked a song of a moderate difficulty and slower speed; one that would be fun for him to play and that Tsuchiya would be able to follow along... he hoped. After he finished, he stepped onto the dance platform and gestured for the underclassman to come closer and get a good look at what was going on.

As a trance song started to play, he began to move, talking loudly so Tsuchiya could hear him over the music. "You see the arrows? Step on them when they reach the top of the screen. See, right arrow... right foot..." Kiyama continued to narrate his actions, not really knowing if he was making it any clearer or not for his teammate. After a little over a minute, the song ended, and the results popped up on the screen.

Kiyama stepped off the platform and moved towards the button to prepare to make his next selections. He looked to the first-year again, hoping that he had a better idea of what to do.

"Do you think you've got it? We'll do a slow one first."

[Tsuchiya Satoshi]

Kiyama looked away, and Satoshi was sure, for that split second, that his first game choice would be declined. He was about to open his mouth, ready to pick out another choice when the ex-Yankee sighed, "One go. You do the easy mode, okay?"

He nodded as Kiyama searched his pockets, finding some coins for the machine, "C'mon." Kiyama approached the machine, learning against the support bars on the back. He pointed the the parts of the machine as he tried his hand at an explanation. "You stand on the platform, and step on the arrows to the beat. You follow them on the screen, see?" He tilted his head to the side, not really understanding, Kiyama must have been able to read his expression, "I'll do one first, and you watch."

Satoshi watched as the third-year press a couple of buttons on the screen, hand hovering over before he selected the two-player option. A second later, picking out a song unfamiliar to the manager. He followed Kiyama's prompting, stepping up onto the dance platform, keeping an eye on the screen and on the boy next to him. The song began to play, and Satoshi suddenly felt a wave of excitement. He was still a little unsure how the game worked, and he didn't want to cause any problems for Kiyama if something were to happen...

Kiyama's voice broke through his thoughts, and it was then that Satoshi noticed the arrows appearing at the bottom of the screen, moving upwards. "You see the arrows? Step on them when they reach the top of the screen. See, right arrow... right foot..."

Satoshi glanced down at his feet, moving his right foot, looking up at the screen to make sure he pressed it at the right time. Text appeared, showing he pressed his foot down a little too late. He saw another arrow, pointing downwards, his brow furrowed as he waited, at the last second slamming a foot down on the down arrow. Beside him, Kiyama was still narrating how to use the machine, easily getting PERFECT after PERFECT.

He kept his eyes on the screen, his hands finding themselves gripping the support bars. Two arrows appeared at the same time, and he blinked, Kiyama's voice still booming over the music, directing him on how to hit both arrows at once. He waited, at the last second jumping up and hitting the two arrow buttons at the right time. Satoshi grinned, the song finally coming to a close. It wasn't so hard, once he got the hang of it, it was almost a little easy. As long as he didn't have to hit two arrows at the same time.

The results appeared on the screen, Satoshi's score far lower than Kiyama's, but he didn't mind. It was fun. He eased off the support bar as Kiyama stepped off the platform, about to pick another song. Kiyama looked his way, "Do you think you've got it? We'll do a slow one first."

"Yes... I think so." He waited for Kiyama to pick a slow song, glancing around at the rest of the arcade. It was then he realized a small line had started to form during their first round. He felt his cheeks burn, turning back to the machine. Kiyama had already picked a song, and Satoshi let his hands grip the support bars again as the song began to play.

It only took the first few seconds of the song to realize it was almost... too slow. The first-year repeatedly missed arrow after arrow, his score plummeting. He could hear groans from behind him, but tried to block them out, biting his lower lip in concentration. A peek at Kiyama's side of the screen showed he was doing fine, and at that, Satoshi stopped. The arrows continued to travels towards to the top of the screen, "MISS" appearing every time an arrow went untouched.

He blinked rapidly, staring down at the platform, the arrow buttons flashing with lights. Satoshi knew, deep down, this game wasn't for him. He knew but he still wanted to try it, if only once. But it was no longer fun and he could just tell Kiyama would rather play something else.

Something like a gong went off on his side of the machine, and he looked up, finding a flashing "FAILED" on the screen. The first year gulped, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He let go of the support bar, stepping down from the platform, keeping his eyes on his shoes. After all that pleading, he couldn't even do two rounds of DDR...

He sniffed, wanting to get as far away from the dancing game as possible, maybe to the taiko drum game, he would rather shoot a bunch of fake ducks...

Satoshi heard the song end, followed by the sounds of someone stepping off the dance platform. He swallowed, "I'm sorry, Kiyama-san. I guess this wasn't a good first game choice." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

"Yes... I think so," said Tsuchiya, and Kiyama started working on choosing the next stage of the game. He picked a slower song than the first, and made sure that Tsuchiya's side was set to the beginner mode before he let the next round start.

As usual, the arcade usuals showed their disapproval for any play that was less than perfect. Kiyama had experienced mumbles and groans and whispers quite a few times, but he didn't quite know how Tsuchiya would handle it. Taking his eyes off the screen for a moment to see that the younger boy seemed to be engrossed in his play, hopefully pushing through the peanut gallery standing behind them.

But his efforts didn't last long -- Tsuchiya's side of the screen indicated a quickly dropping life bar, and before Kiyama knew it, the screen went black, fading to the GAME OVER screen.

Exhaling, Kiyama stepped off the dance platform and walked over to the other side of the machine to join his teammate. The first thing he noticed was that the boy looked completely distraught.

"I'm sorry, Kiyama-san. I guess this wasn't a good first game choice. I'm sorry."

Kiyama stared at the boy for a moment. He might've been good at, say, music simulation games, but one of his weak points definitely had to be comforting others. Tsuchiya was definitely the kind to try and do his best at everything, arcade games likely included, so failing in front of the small crowd that had gathered around the machine probably made him feel pretty bad.

"Don't worry about it."

He put a hand on the first-year's shoulder and flashed a little smile that he figured probably looked really contrived, but... To be completely honest, Kiyama was really glad that the run and been cut short. The longer it went on, the more he would fear that the kid would overexert himself, and...

"You did a hell of a lot better than me my first time." He guided the boy a bit further from the machine so that the next players could start their turn.

Kiyama rubbed the back of his neck, looking looking away and at the sea of other machines rather than the boy standing beside him. A sigh later, he stated, "you did good. I've seen people fall off the thing, for instance..."

Yeah, he was being really convincing.

He didn't want to see Tsuchiya get discouraged any more, but they were in a video game arcade, and games tended to involve... skill. Unlike Kiyama, Tsuchiya hadn't been gaming for years, so it was hard to figure out what he could be good at... Looking back to the boy, he waved for him to follow him, and the two made their way through the crowded building.

Kiyama found himself stopping near the front of the arcade. Yeah, this one looked safe. Maybe. "You wanted to do this one, right?"

He stopped the boy in front of one of those "ufo catchers," with all the toys in the bottom. Kiyama bit his lip. Now, if there was any game that he happened to suck at in the whole place, it had to be that one. But he figured that it was worth trying if it would cheer Tsuchiya up, and it might be fun to try even if neither of them were able to grab a prize.

"I'll be right back... I'm going to get some change, alright?"

Kiyama nodded before turning for a brisk walk over to the change machine. Stopping in front of it, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, opened in and fingered through some billfolds. He pulled out a 500-yen bill, but before he could slide it in the machine he paused.

He found himself looking over to the first year. Despite thinking Tsuchiya's excitement over a trip to the arcade was a bit odd, he had been looking forward to showing the boy something new and hoping he'd enjoy himself. It already felt like the afternoon had gotten to the wrong foot -- and Kiyama wasn't quite sure if the rest of it would follow suit. Kiyama wasn't good at entertaining people, Tsuchiya wasn't good at games, apparently... exactly what was he thinking when he agreed to this?

Smoothing out the bill, he finally slipped it into the machine... but his eyes didn't move to the change slot, but lingered on his hand. He frowned a bit, thinking to how Tsuchiya had grabbed it in excitement not too long ago... it was nice seeing him that excited, he guessed? It was different. That smile was different. Kiyama knew that he was the epitome of the word "jaded," but the eager first year reminded him... about the good in people and all that jazz.

He clasped his closed, then opened it again. It was weird. Crazy freaking kid.

Kiyama sighed once more before picking up the coins and shoving them in his pocket.

He'd try to make this work.

[Tsuchiya Satoshi]

Satoshi kept his gaze on the floor, even as Kiyama came over to his side. "Don't worry about it." He felt a hand on his shoulder, and knew instantly whose it was. It was strange, a simple act like that, of just putting a hand on his shoulder, and Satoshi felt a little better. He looked up, just in time to see a little smile on Kiyama's face.

Kiyama began to lead him away from the dance machine, through the slowly growing crowd that wasn't there a few minutes ago. "You did a hell of a lot better than me my first time." The older boy sighed, "you did good. I've seen people fall off the thing, for instance..." At that, Satoshi couldn't help it. A hint of a smile appeared on his face, he looked in Kiyama's direction, about to ask how one could fall off a dance platform when Yankee was already waving at him to follow him towards the front.

They stopped a way from the entrance, near a few crane machines. "You wanted to do this one, right?" Satoshi peered into one machine, finding a bunch of toys, another machine harboring candy. His eyes grew wide as they scanned the contents, he was so engrossed, he nearly missed what Kiyama said before nodding and walking over to the change machine.

"I'll be right back... I'm going to get some change, alright?"

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the machine. There were a few teddy bears, plain, but as he searched further, he found they were mostly in costumes. A glance at the machine to the side showed even more toys, though more like action figures. Satoshi paused, moving over to the second machine to get a closer look. He let out a laugh, turning his head in the direction of where Kiyama went, finding him by the change machine. The Yankee was putting a bill into the slot, waiting for the change back.

Satoshi let his eyes return to the crane machine's contents. Inside were the little gymnastic dolls Yuuta somehow acquired. He had always wondered where the Captain got them, every time a new member popped up, the next day Yuuta would come in with a new little gymnast for them to play with. There were a bunch of different costumes, one in particular Satoshi recognized as Washizu. A brief thought crossed his mind. Had the others known about this machine? Did Yuuta point it out to them when he wasn't around?

His thoughts from earlier were completely gone, his mind now set on playing this new game and maybe, maybe he could do this. A crane machine? Surely he could do it.

There was a movement near the entrance, but Satoshi was sure as long as he stayed where he was, they would bypass him. Kiyama would be back any time now, already with the change they needed to play the games, when a voice tore him from his thoughts.

"Tsuchiya? What are you doing here?"

[Tsukimori Ryosuke]

ooc: Outfit HERE!

Ryosuke had been on his way home from Wataru's, after a rather enjoyable and typical meal of omurice, and that was when he'd been stopped.

Truth be told, he hadn't been expecting it. The walk home had been along a rather dark street, but it was the route he always took from Wataru's place. So when a hand had emerged almost out of the blue from one of the street's alleyways, stopping him in place, he'd been fairly surprised.

Moments later, the hand had revealed itself to belong to a rather gruff-looking guy he was fairly certain he had never seen before. And yet, he almost wasn't surprised to see the equally tough-looking group that stepped out of the alleyway after the first. The look in their eyes told him everything he needed to know.

His first instinct had been to stand up for himself, give the guys what was coming to them, even if meant getting hurt himself. He'd ended up in this kind of situation in the past, running into a group of guys like the ones standing before him now, and even though he'd always known, each of those times, that he probably wouldn't come out as the victor all on his own, it felt better knowing he'd given them a run for their money than simply run from them.

But the times were different. In addition to knowing he was bound to lose against a bunch of gang members who at least appeared to be older than him--they were definitely out of high school, by the looks of things--there was something else to consider now. The Tumbling Team.

He was one of the newer members to the whole thing, him and the other Yankees, and it had been made expressly known that if he or the others continued to get in fights, the Tumbling Team would suffer. He'd have more black marks on his record, probably some suspensions or failed classes or whatnot, but it was for the sake of the team that he most worried. And by this point, Wataru had made it known that the he wasn't fighting any longer. Ryosuke wasn't going to either, and he was determined to stand by that.

But then there were these situations....

Ryosuke sized the guys up from where he was standing. He was pretty big for a high schooler, but most of the guys in front of him were around the same height, and that wasn't to say that even the smallest of them wouldn't be able to hurt him. This was really tough.

"What do you want?" Ryosuke demanded, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn't have his school uniform on, so maybe they didn't think he was much younger or something. But he also couldn't imagine what they wanted, whether this was planned or not.

"Look, guys, he doesn't know how to respect his superiors!" the largest of the gang said loudly. He was wearing a mock expression of amusement on his face as the remainder of his gang laughed. The look quickly dissipated into one of the kind of ruthless anger Ryosuke noticed in most gang leaders who meant business. "Guess we'll have to beat it into him then, huh?"

There hadn't been much more room for discussion or thought. Ryosuke had ground his hands into fists and he'd heavily weighed the option of even a small fight, or if he tried to fight back and kept it silent after, but it just didn't seem possible. Not to mention, he got the feeling these guys were looking to dole out serious beatings. By the way the guy had spoken alone, he got the impression that if he did stay to test his and the Tumbling Team's luck, he'd be lucky if got out alive, let alone conscious.

And then he'd run.

It had taken everything in Ryosuke's power to take off running. There was a little gremlin inside of him calling him out on it, telling him what a coward he was to act that way, but the other part of him, the one he hoped was seeing reason, had instinctively insisted on this. In fact, he already knew where he was going to hide.

The Arcade. It was only a matter of a minute or two from where he was now. It was a Yankee's playground, and more than that, there would be other people inside. If he really needed help, someone would give it. He hoped.

The Yankee ran as fast as he could until the neon lights of the Arcade rose up before him. He wasn't sure how much time he'd gained on the gang, but he knew they were still following him. He could hear their footsteps somewhere behind him, though he couldn't judge how far back.

Hectic, Ryosuke slammed through the arcade doors, into a mess of sounds and chatter. This place had always felt like something of a haven for him when he'd been a true, blue Yankee. He hoped it wouldn't change roles now, either.

But that was when he saw him.

Ryosuke's eyes widened. Tsuchiya? Little Tsuchiya was here? Sh*t, and he'd just brought the whole freaking party here too.

"Tsuchiya? What are you doing here?" Ryosuke began to feel large pangs of guilt as he brushed past person after person in the arcade, moving through a haze of cigarette smoke, trying to get over to his Tumbling team-mate. He couldn't understand what he was doing here, and now, of all times.

And that was when Ryosuke saw Kiyama. "You-"

There was a loud BANG! as the doors to the Arcade were pounded open. Ryosuke didn't need a second guess as to who made that kind of drastic entrance. Frantic, he moved from the open aisle, where the gang would assuredly see him, and tried to find a place he could go. He didn't want Kiyama or Tsuchiya involved in this, though. What the hell was wrong with these guys that they needed to follow him in here? Someone had to have paid them to come for him. No gangs so adamantly pursued someone like him without a reason. If they'd been just looking for a fun fight to pick, without some kind of intended goal, they would have laughed their asses off for just getting Ryosuke to run, they wouldn't have come hounding him in a place like this.

They had to have been paid off. But by who? And why?

"Kiyama, Tsuchiya, those guys are after me, but I don't know why-"

The Yankee recognized the voice of one of the gang leaders as he called out his name, "Tsukimori....."

What the hell? They knew his name too!?

"Ah, I swear I don't know them, and I didn't do anything lately that would make this make any more sense either...ahh..." Suddenly frantic, Ryosuke tried to think of what he could do. He wondered if just running for the back exit of the building was a good idea--though with the layout of the building as it was currently, if he wasn't careful, the gang would spot him. But then he realized, if these guys knew who he was without him knowing them, then they would definitely know Kiyama.

And then Tsuchiya would be involved too.

"I think we all need to run or hide....something..." Ryosuke panted, looking up frantically to see if the gang had gotten any closer. One of the members had just moved into the section right before the one they were in currently. "I don't know them, but if they know me by name, they'll probably know you too, Kiyama..."

Ryosuke looked from one of his classmates to the other and felt his heart sink. Dammit, he felt so bad. It looked as though they had been enjoying themselves, before he'd come along. And even though he was sure Kiyama would be fine in all this, he didn't want Tsuchiya to have to be involved.

"TSUKIMORI!"

Ryosuke actually jumped. So he was becoming more of a chicken and less of a Yankee, wasn't he? Well so be it. Right now it was better that he was a living chicken with his two friends, rather than a dead one. Even more frantic, the blonde Yankee started pushing the other two in the direction opposite he'd seen the gang members going, the direction which led towards the back door to the arcade. If they didn't hurry, any minute now, one of the gang members would round the corner and see them.

"Go, go!" Ryosuke hissed.

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

Kiyama navigated the Sunday afternoon crowds, dodging a particularly excited group gathered around that fighting game. No, Tsuchiya would be no good at anything like that. But he couldn't help looking over at the screen, always looking for a worthy important.

As he rounded the corner to approach the UFO catcher machine, Kiyama looked up to lock eyes with... Tsukimori Ryosuke. When the hell did he get here? Oh, well, the more the merrier he supposed...

"You-" The blonde started, but he was quickly was interrupted by the sound of someone... no, a group of someones, bursting through the front door of the arcade.

Kiyama looked to the door to see a group of older looking thugs walk into the arcade. It wasn't a rare occurrence, but definitely something that put him on edge as a yankee who didn't want to do yankee-like things anymore. The fact that they seemed to appear right after Tsukimori didn't ease his concerns.

Neither did the look the blonde gave him before opening his mouth.

"Kiyama, Tsuchiya, those guys are after me, but I don't know why-"

As if on cue, one of the the gang members cried out of the boy. "Tsukimori....."

The aforementioned turned to Kiyama, a frantic look in his eyes. "Ah, I swear I don't know them, and I didn't do anything lately that would make this make any more sense either...ahh..."

Hearing what just seemed like an earful of excuses, Kiyama's thought process went from Tsukimori, what the hell, to Tsukimori, what the hell, I'm not your mother. Not quite convinced that the the other yankee had been completely innocent, he decided to take his word for the moment. It definitely didn't look like there was any time to question him.

He grabbed both boys beside him by the sleeves so they could duck behind one of the prize machines, he didn't think the thugs had seen just where Tsukimori had disappeared to, so maybe it'd buy them a bit of time. Although a group of large and dangerous-looking men had just stormed into the building, there was relatively little reaction from the arcade-goers. It was one of those things you get used to if you frequent the place.

Kiyama turned toward the other yankee, thoroughly confused about what was going on, and pondering the course of action to take next. "Tsuki--"

But Tsukimori cut in, his voice hushed and hectic. "I think we all need to run or hide....something..." He peered past the machine, presumably to see if the thugs had come any closer. "I don't know them, but if they know me by name, they'll probably know you too, Kiyama..."

Kiyama crinkled his brow. Even if he doubted Tsukimori's involvement in anything shady, he knew that he hadn't done anything wrong lately. Was someone coming after them, specifically? Come to think of it, Kiyama was technically never part of the Karasumori gang, and still got hounded down every now and again.

"TSUKIMORI!"

One of the thug's voice's boomed through out the building; it wasn't until then that any of the arcade goers actually paid attention to what was going on. With quiet murmurs, as not to upset any of the group that just entered, several of the gamers began moving toward the exit.

Kiyama bit his lip. That meant that there were less people to hide among. Though that also meant that there were less people to get hurt, in case something happened...

He'd heard that some time before he joined the team, the gymnastics team had been involved from a fight that his yankee peers were in and it had ended up in Tsuchiya getting injured. He then thought back to that desire not to have someone he liked go to the emergency room that afternoon. He looked back to the frantic Tsukimori -- he didn't quite dislike him, either...

"Go, go!" Tsukimori hissed, and that was all that Kiyama needed.

Eyes darting back and forth from the two boys, he finally took hold of Tsuchiya by the arm.

"C'mon..."

Hopefully all three of them would be able to escape without incident. But if not, at least Kiyama would try to get the first-year somewhere safe first, and return to straighten things out if need be.

Like some kind of cartoon, Kiyama hunched over and scuttled from machine to machine, dragging the first-year behind him, and hoping that Tsukimori was somewhere close by. For better and for worse, the arcade was pretty small, which made it quick to traverse for the Karasumori students and the group pursuing them.

But somehow, Kiyama made it towards the back of the arcade in one piece. He peered beyond one of those racecar games to spy the emergency exit before turning back to Tsuchiya. He moved his head to gesture that they'd make a break for it as soon as they got out of the door. He took his free hand and indicated that they'd go on three, and he began to count off with his fingers.

One, two...

Kiyama jumped up and started dashing toward the exit, still leading Tsuchiya by his arm. However, the back door suddenly flew open, and someone stepped inside.

And Kiyama stepped on the brakes, almost tripping and falling over on top of the two people who'd just walked into the door. They looked to be in with the same party that had followed Tsukimori.

What the hell?

"Found another one of 'em!" one of them announced, his voice booming over the sounds of the arcade cabinets and the commotion of the retreating patrons. "Kiyama, huh?"

Kiyama paled, hearing his name. Tsukimori was right? Who in the world were the--

He ducked to the right just in time to dodge a clumsy first hurled in his direction. The man's hand flew into an old Galaga cabinet. The thug recoiled, and Kiyama winced -- that game's a freaking classic -- before grabbing Tsuchiya and dragging him in the opposite direction.

This was going to be hell. Fighting a group of people this large was quite something in itself, but trying to get by without fighting a group of people chasing you down was even more difficult. Add in the fact that he had to look out for the underclassman with the health problems didn't do much to help the situation.

But Kiyama didn't want to risk the fact that the gang members had already linked Tsuchiya to the yankees, or that he'd get hurt if he tried to get away on his own.

At a loss, he spun around and started leading Tsuchiya back into the arcade, hoping that he'd figure out something to do that didn't involve flying fists or knocking skulls.

[Tsuchiya Satoshi]

No sooner had Satoshi turned to see who called his name did a loud BANG! jerk his attention to the front. A large group of what appeared to be thugs entered the arcade, the surrounding crowds ignoring what was going on.

Tsukimori faced Satoshi, and Kiyama, who had just walked up.

"Kiyama, Tsuchiya, those guys are after me, but I don't know why-"

One of the gang members cut Tsukimori off mid-excuse, "Tsukimori..."

The aforementioned turned to Kiyama, a frantic look in his eyes. "Ah, I swear I don't know them, and I didn't do anything lately that would make this make any more sense either...ahh..."

Satoshi looked at Kiyama just as the Yankee grabbed hold of his sleeve, taking both him and Tsukimori down to hide behind a machine. He kept his head down, Kiyama's voice revealing his confusion, "Tsuki..."

Tsukimori didn't let Kiyama finish, his own voice showing his panic, "I think we all need to run or hide....something..." He peered past the machine, presumably to see if the thugs had come any closer. "I don't know them, but if they know me by name, they'll probably know you too, Kiyama..."

Satoshi looked up at that, seeing Kiyama's brow furrow in thought. Before wondering what was going on in his senpai's head, a loud voice rang out over the noise of the arcade.

"TSUKIMORI!"

He jumped from where they were hiding, before Tsukimori whispered an urgent, "Go, go!" Kiyama grabbed Satoshi's arm, pulling him up with a "C'mon..."

He kept quiet as he followed, the Yankee making his way toward the back of the arcade. Satoshi glanced behind him, seeing Tsukimori trailing behind before turning back to the front. They reached the back of the arcade with no problem and Satoshi could only nod as Kiyama motioned they would make a break for it, lifting up a hand to count.

The older boy stopped at two, instantly on his feet, Satoshi struggling not to fall over at the sudden acceleration. A brief thought ran through his mind, did Kiyama feel like this when he dragged him all around the arcade at the start of their adventure? The thought quickly vanished as the back door opened before they reached it, Kiyama stopping just short of hitting the two thugs in the doorway, Satoshi's face smacking into his back.

"Found another one of 'em! Kiyama, huh?"

Satoshi peered around Kiyama's arm, eyes widening as the guy in the doorway lifted a fist to throw in their direction. Kiyama dodged, grabbing Satoshi again before retreating back where they came from. The first year let himself be dragged, his thought from earlier coming to mind again. He willed it away, glancing behind them, the guy's fist now bleeding from where it contacted with the game machine. The thug looked up at that moment, his eyes filled with murderous intent and Satoshi shivered, quickly looking away, still feeling the eyes on him.

Kiyama changed direction, leading them further into the arcade. With the arrival of that gang, the inhabitants of the arcade began to leave, leaving less and less people to hide behind. Tsukimori was no longer behind them, and Satoshi quickly surveyed the surrounding area. There must be somewhere they could... get away, hide, something...

A shout from somewhere ahead of them was heard, and he felt himself shiver again. He never knew something like this could happen. That time before the rest of the Yankees joined the team came to mind, when Satoshi had hurt his wrist, but any other time, he was mostly sheltered from the worst fights. Kiyama's grip on his arm tightened, the older boy must have been worried since the gang entered the arcade.

Satoshi felt his head lower, his mother had warned him about the suspicious activity around the arcade, but he was sure, as long as Kiyama-san was nearby, he was safe.

Another shout was made, along with something smashing. Satoshi bit his lip, eyes scanning the area they were in, when his eyes found a door. Two large letters reading W.C. were rusting, and from where the two were standing, it would be a clear run to safety.

At least for now.

Satoshi tugged his arm away from Kiyama's firm grip, "Kiyama-san," he let the Yankee face him before continuing, "do you think we can hide in there?" He pointed towards the bathroom, his eyes full with worry.


ooc: LET THE FUN BEGIN.

[Mizusawa Taku]

ooc: Outfit here!

ic:

Mizusawa was following Kiyama around. He knew it was bad, knew he'd be in serious trouble and in for some serious embarrassment if he were actually caught. But he couldn't help it. It was all because of what he'd heard.

He'd heard Kiyama and Satoshi talking over dinner at Wataru's place after practice, about going to visit the local arcade together. That had been one of Mizusawa's favorite places before it had become corrupt with Yankees. And, hearing that from the two of them...he had wanted so desperately to join in. Though of course he knew it wasn't his place to ask such a thing.

Still, he'd felt a twinge of jealousy, that Satoshi had become so close to Kiyama, that it was easy enough to just ask something like that. Then again, Satoshi was just such an agreeable kid. Maybe that was why Kiyama got along with him so well. He doubted anyone could hate Satoshi. But, in his own case, he knew that he'd never be able to get Kiyama to agree to going out somewhere, just the two of them--at least not as easily as Satoshi had been able to. That, and, well...he just didn't have the guts to do it anyway.

Well, he'd known what day they were planning to meet from what he'd heard of their conversation that night at Wataru's, so he knew where and when he could find Kiyama. He'd had nothing to do that day, so he'd made up his mind (after fighting with himself mentally for a bit) that there wasn't any harm in seeing what they were up to. He hadn't been to the arcade in a while, after all. If Kiyama thought it was safe enough for Satoshi to go to, then maybe it was still as fun a place as it had been before Mizusawa had stopped going.

Although...No matter what you tell yourself, you're just making up excuses, Mizusawa reprimanded himself, as he pretended to be involved in the Tekken game he was playing alone. Really, he was actually looking out the nearby window of the arcade, out at where Kiyama rested on a bench, waiting patiently for his younger guest.

Mizusawa had gotten to the arcade first to wait for them, so the moment when Kiyama had arrived, he had sucked in a breath at how good Kiyama looked today. He was wearing the usual colors--black pants, black jacket, white shirt, white shoes--but that was okay, because those colors always looked good on him. Mizusawa also had dressed up decently for the occasion, as if this were his date day out with Kiyama, and as if he were going to a nice restaurant rather than to an arcade.

While he watched the other boy, he was getting his butt kicked by CPU Chun Li in the game. But that didn't matter. Because a moment later, Satoshi had finally arrived. A smile lit Kiyama's face as he saw the smaller boy approaching, and Mizusawa felt his heart sink a little. Why? Why had he never gotten a smile like that? Because Kiyama didn't like him? Because he wasn't as cute or nice as Satoshi?

Because you're the one who's creepy enough to be standing here right now, stalking them and thinking all this, a voice told him. He sighed, knowing it was true. If he'd had the guts to be himself around Kiyama, then taken the initiative to ask him out like Satoshi had, maybe stalking wouldn't even be necessary.

He felt another tugging at his heart strings as, a moment later, Satoshi grabbed Kiyama's hand, and the two entered the arcade together. If he hadn't known them personally, he would have thought them very close brothers, maybe friends, or...lovers...

He sighed, ignoring the Tekken game's requests for more coins, shoving his hands into his token-laden pockets to satisfy his curiosity and increase his pain over what Satoshi and Kiyama would do first.

It didn't take too long to find them. They'd made their way over to the DDR section. Kiyama was putting in some coins now, getting the game started for them so they could play...Mizusawa squinted his eyes to read the screen. A team game. He decided to hang back for a little bit and watch them play, despite knowing what he should really do was either find another game to play on his own, or otherwise just leave altogether.

The game began with a song Mizusawa didn't recognize, although it reminded him of something Kiyama would like. He watched as both boys began to move to the music, Satoshi looking intently at the arrows on the screen as though his life was dependent on hitting each one perfectly, while Kiyama seemed to be both explaining something to Satoshi and playing at the same time. That song, whatever it was, ended quickly enough, and the two began again.

This time, the music was slower, and Kiyama seemed to be focusing much more on his game. Mizusawa felt very much like some kind of disgusting, peeping tom, but he couldn't help watching the way Kiyama moved to the music, the way his hips swung to the beat, while his feet always seemed to hit the right arrows. Mizusawa could really admire that, especially because DDR had always been one of his favorite games here. He wasn't an expert at it, per say, but he certainly wasn't bad either.

Meanwhile, Satoshi seemed to be struggling again. Mizusawa had been watching Kiyama play, and he wasn't sure he wanted the game to end early. But a quick look at Satoshi and he knew the game would end before the song was done. As much as he wanted to be the one in Satoshi's place, playing a good team game with Kiyama in front of all those people who were now in line, impressing them all with their combined talent, he still felt bad for Satoshi. Maybe that hadn't been the best game choice for him. There were other things he could do, right?

The boys had then gotten off the DDR game and headed for some kind of UFO version of a crane game. But it looked like they had run out of tokens. One of Mizusawa's hands closed around the tokens in his own pockets, and he nearly rushed up to Kiyama to tell him to just use one of his. But reason hit him immediately, and he knew how stupid an idea that was.

So while Kiyama went to get more coins for he and Satoshi to play another game, Mizusawa stared at the younger boy, becoming lost in thought. Satoshi definitely had an innocence about him, a charm that was incomparable to anything anyone else on the team had to offer--maybe even anyone else in the school. He was such a happy-go-lucky kid, despite the situation regarding his health, and how much he had been through for being such a young age. Mizusawa could see what Kiyama saw in the little guy. Maybe that was what Kiyama needed, someone who would like him no matter what--someone who got excited over things as small as a crane game, as Mizusawa could see now. Not people who snuck around, hiding behind Mario Kart machines to watch what supposed "friends" were up to.

...

Wait? Why was he thinking all this? It was like he was reading a book or watching some kind of TV show or something. He was making himself concerned about things he really ought to not know anything about. None of this had anything to do with him, or his stupid feelings. If he got caught, he'd probably ruin a perfectly good and perfectly normal day for Kiyama and Satoshi. Kiyama would hate him even more, and Satoshi...well, he might even lose a friend, if it was even possible for Satoshi to be angry at another human being.

Wow...he was being so stupid right now. And there wasn't any reason for it, except his own pathetic jealousy. Kiyama and Satoshi were just friends, and even if they were something more, that gave him no right to be sneaking around and watching them over his own disgusting feelings. Now he just felt ten times worse.

Sighing, a further sinking feeling in his heart, he turned away from the lone Satoshi, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the machine. He'd leave. As soon as he knew Kiyama was back from the token machine, he'd go home and find something to do. Maybe sleep off this bad feeling. And he'd hope, with all of his heart, that Kiyama and Satoshi would have a really nice day and not ever have to know what a two-faced stalker he really was.

...Despite how much his heart still really hurt after all this. He rubbed the spot over his chest subconsciously, frowning.

"Tsuchiya? What are you doing here?"

At first he thought he was imagining it, that frantic voice. Ryosuke's frantic voice. Then there was a loud BANG!, and suddenly the atmosphere became much more tense.

"Kiyama, Tsuchiya, those guys are after me, but I don't know why-"

The Yankee recognized the voice of one of the gang leaders as he called out his name, "Tsukimori....."

Mizusawa froze. What the hell was going on here? Had Ryosuke seriously just led a gang into the arcade? So much for it being safe here now...

"Ah, I swear I don't know them, and I didn't do anything lately that would make this make any more sense either...ahh..." There was a pause, and Mizusawa strained to hear what Ryosuke said next over the crazy sounds of multiple games going off at once. "I think we all need to run or hide....something..." Ryosuke panted, looking up frantically to see if the gang had gotten any closer. One of the members had just moved into the section right before the one they were in currently. "I don't know them, but if they know me by name, they'll probably know you too, Kiyama..."

Mizusawa's heart was beginning to pound now.

"TSUKIMORI!"

After the sound of one of the gangsters shouting Ryosuke's surname, there was no more sound coming from where Ryosuke, Kiyama, and Satoshi had been a moment before. Mizusawa, curious, peered around the Mario Kart machine to see if they were still there.

They weren't. Evidently, they had already made a run for it.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully they would be okay, and would get out of the arcade fast enough. As for him...well, they weren't looking for him, these gangsters--at least, he didn't think so. Maybe he could quickly call the police and get them down here to do something. The last thing he wanted was to see someone hurt because of a stupid gang fight. And if it got out that Yankees were involved--especially Yankees on the Karasumori Tumbling Team--well...that would be pretty bad news for everyone.

Taking out his phone, he quickly dialed in the emergency number, resting tensely with his back against the Mario Kart machine as he brought the phone to his ear, waiting for someone to pick up. He was just in time to hear a click and the beginning of a woman's voice, when suddenly the phone was wrenched out of his hand, and a big hand grabbed him by the collar.

He was too stunned to do much of anything when he was tossed to the floor, a loud, gruff voice over him spitting at him, "Calling the cops, kid?"

He looked up and saw the face of one of the gang members, a piercing in his nose and multiple ones in his eyebrows and ears. He was staring down at Mizusawa with a mix of anger and amusement, Mizusawa's phone clasped tightly in one of his hands, as though he were about to snap it in half.

Mizusawa didn't answer the guy's question, just happened to notice a few other guys appearing behind him, and wracking his brain over what about him being on the phone had attracted this guy's attention. Then it occurred to him. He wasn't dressed like a gamer--he wasn't dressed at all like someone who belonged in an arcade. And on top of it, he had been hiding behind a machine--not because he was hiding from them, but rather from two others...

Boy had he made a mistake in coming here.

The gangster reached forward and grabbed Mizusawa by the collar again, now lifting him slightly off the ground. "I said...are you calling the cops? Are you?"

He shook the boy, but again, there was no response.

"ARE YOU?!" The man angrily threw a punch that connected with the side of Mizusawa's face, throwing him back to the ground on his side. The left side of his face suddenly felt like it were on fire, and he instinctively reached up a hand to cup it. He stared at the gangster and the small mob of men who had gathered behind him (all of whom were now closing in), knowing somehow that this was not nearly all of them, praying that Kiyama and Ryosuke and Satoshi had gotten away, but also wishing that he hadn't been dumb enough to come here on his own, and for such a stupid reason.

[Tsukimori Ryosuke]

ooc: Hmmm, my posts all seem to be turning out craptastic! (O.o)

Ryosuke had no need to push Kiyama or Tsuchiya. The former of the two was quick to act, grabbing both his fellow Yankee and their kouhei by the sleeves and pulling them down out of the gang members' line of vision behind one of the game machines. Ryosuke's previous panicking felt secondary to what he was experiencing now--hiding wasn't going to solve anything. If they stayed in one place, even if they were out of sight now, it wouldn't likely last long. Those gang members would be searching for him--maybe Kiyama too, if they were just out hounding Wataru's friends, which Ryosuke still didn't understand but seemed to be the only possible motive for their adamant ferocity--and if they stayed behind this one machine, someone was bound to find them. The arcade just wasn't big enough that they could stay in one place and still expect to get away.

The second time the thugs yelled his name, Ryosuke not only cringed, but he noticed that at least a few of the gamers were beginning to make their way for the exit. With any luck, the three of them could try to follow, under cover of those leaving....though the gang members were probably watching the retreating people carefully, aware that Ryosuke--at least--might try to blend in with the crowd. For once, he felt like his blonde hair was more of a burden than anything else. Admittedly, with this hair color, he could stand out in most any crowd of Japanese people.

Daring a quick peek around the prize machine, Ryosuke saw another two of the gang members rounding the aisle of game machines just before the one they were hiding in.

That was when Ryosuke began nudging Kiyama and Tsuchiya forwards. "Go, go!" They couldn't stay here.

Kiyama seemed to dub this a suitable time to move too. Ryosuke saw him grab Tsuchiya's sleeve, and then the two of them were rushing forward, darting from one machine to the next, trying to keep out of sight of the baddies. Ryosuke himself was actually having a fairly difficult time keeping up with them. Some of the gamers in this particular aisle had started getting up to leave as well, and it seemed just when he was close enough to reach out and touch his teammates again, some new barrier of a person would get in his way, separating him from his friends.

Ryosuke cursed as another group of guys, three timid-looking businessmen, eyed him curiously, the concern about the obviously vengeful gang members evident in their frowns, the lines etched in their faces.

Here was another thing. He could only pray that people like this wouldn't call the gang members over, give him away. He had made himself obvious as the one the thugs were looking for, scuttling around, bent at the waist, craning his neck every so often to try and get an idea where the gang was. From what he could guess--he was so panicky and confused, at this point, that he really had no idea for sure--the gang was mostly over on the side of the arcade that he, Kiyama, and Tsuchiya had just vacated. But of course there would be more moving to the other side....they had to know about the back door. Or maybe they didn't? It seemed too much to hope for.

As the three businessmen moved past him, Ryosuke expressed his frustration with a heavy, anxious sigh, drumming his fingers nervously on the seat of a racing game that was chiming its disapproval in the same rhythmic, annoyed sound as Ryosuke's pounding heart. The blonde Yankee strained to see past the group of men leaving.....he'd lost Kiyama and Tsuchiya. F*ck everything, he'd lost them. Where had they gone? Damn businessmen....what were they doing in a place like this anyway?

Ryosuke tried to tell himself that separating from the other two might be a good thing. Probably not for himself, but for Tsuchiya at least. If they were out solely for Ryosuke, then Kiyama and the other boy had a chance of getting out the back door (even, potentially, the front) with few problems. If they were on the group's hitlist, though.....

The blonde Yankee shook his head. Maybe not, maybe they weren't. Maybe he had done something, something unintentional, or something he wasn't aware of, and this group was coming after him for it. He could at least better accept some kind of beat down if he knew what he was being punished for, but being chased like this, and so seriously, by guys he didn't know but who somehow knew him in return? It was just terrifying. He didn't understand what was going on....He was just a frigging high schooler. He knew way worse kids his age, kids who dabbled in drugs and made a living off of selling them, stealing....he'd been a Yankee, yeah, but he'd never done anything like that. And he'd never done any crimes.....at least not on purpose....

"F*ck it, Yuu's found someone!" The voice was a lot closer than Ryosuke had been expecting. He pressed himself into the space between two of the driving machines at the sound of what he was sure was one of the gang member's voices. And judging by what had been said......

"Kiyama....Tsuchiya..."

Ryosuke squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, just a moment, wondering if maybe he'd fallen into some kind of sleep and gotten pulled into an extreme nightmare. This just....couldn't be happening. Not now, not here...not with him or Kiyama or Tsuchiya.

Why?

And then things got worse.

"Calling the cops, kid?"

The sound was almost distant against the humming and whirring of machines that were suddenly sitting idle in the arcade. It was so distant, in fact, that Ryosuke was almost surprised he'd heard it at all. But judging by where it was coming from, it couldn't have been in reference to Tsuchiya. It would be like the younger Tumbling teammate to go immediately for the cops, but Ryosuke had seen Tsuchiya leave that direction of the arcade with his own eyes. Had he somehow gotten back there...?

"I said...are you calling the cops? Are you?"

Ryosuke climbed shakily to his feet, trying to maintain some manner of cover as he searched for who the voice was referring to.

It didn't take too long to figure out. Back towards where Ryosuke had first entered the arcade and run into Kiyama and Tsuchiya, a large enough number of the gang members had congregated. Ryosuke could see some of them moving around still, studying the people who had had the guts to remain in the arcade while the search went on. But his attention was now focused solely on a spot not too far where he and the other two Tumbling teammates had hidden moments before.

Mizusawa.

It was as though he had suddenly appeared on the spot, and now he was in the grip of a particularly nasty-looking man, one who Ryosuke knew without a doubt had come with the gang he'd led in here. The brass knuckles donning the hand he was using to hold Ryosuke's classmate up easily attested to this.

He shook Mizusawa roughly. It actually hurt to watch, if only because it was Mizusawa Taku, the person farthest from being a Yankee or gang member, involved. "ARE YOU?!" the man threatened.

Ryosuke saw the man's fist connect with Mizusawa's face--thankfully this wasn't the one with the knuckle weapon--and yet he knew he needed to do something. But how...?

Gritting his teeth in annoyed anger, Ryosuke's knuckles whitened as he held onto the rim of the seat of the racing machine, trying frantically to figure out the best thing to do. With Kiyama and Satoshi gone, he was at something of a disadvantage. Mizusawa had a good number of the guys on him, now, and Ryosuke couldn't really hope to beat them on his own. At least if the other Yankee was around.... In fact, he couldn't see either Kiyama or Tsuchiya at all and wondered if they'd already gotten through the doors. He didn't want to be left alone in here, and now with Mizusawa under his watch, but if the others had gotten out okay, then he'd deal with it. He got the feeling he wasn't the only random target of the group of nasty-looking men. They hadn't seemed to recognize Mizusawa, but Ryosuke was beginning to become sure that if they caught up with Kiyama and Tsuchiya, they'd have some bone to pick with the former.

Then suddenly, more of the men had gathered around Mizusawa, and Ryosuke knew there was no more time to wait. He hadn't seen one on any of the guys before, but it was a possibility that at least one of them was carrying a gun. He didn't know of many gang members who were carrying that kind of weapon, because strength in numbers alone usually constituted how well they formally ripped apart their targets, but he knew that more and more people were beginning to carry them. If Mizusawa really had been calling the cops, he wasn't going to be getting out of this unscathed, at least not on his own.

Ryosuke gave himself a sort of jumpstart off the machine and rushed forward towards the scene of the gang members surrounding the schoolboy.

"Oi!"

Damn....he really wished Wataru was here. It seemed sissy of him to think, but even though he knew he was a good fighter, it just seemed impossible for him to beat a group of this size on his own. Not with their odd determination and weapons (maybe if it had just been a matter of fists, he'd have a larger chance of winning), not with the lack of space in the arcade, not now that he'd gotten others--like Mizusawa and Tsuchiya--involved.

But at the same time....Ryosuke was positive he wasn't going to let them win, either. He couldn't. There was only one other option, and he was headed for that way.

"Leave him alone..." The blonde Yankee's voice was dangerously low as he approached. It wasn't that he wanted to egg the group on, but he knew one of the basics of being a Yankee--even an ex-one--was never showing the opponent your fear. He'd already forfeited that, in some ways, by running, but if he was going to have to fight now--or at least feign one before taking off with Mizusawa--he needed to try to work this out. "He has nothing to do with this...."

OOC: Hahaha, I didn't really get us anywhere, but Alex, please feel free to make your post as short as you want, and I can always write the action in my next response! ^_<

[Kiyama Ryuichiro]

By the time Kiyama and Tsuchiya had stopped somewhere amongst those oversized shooter game cabinets, no one was in sight. No patrons, no gangsters, no one.

Wait, Tsukimori was right behind us, right?

You just didn't lose sight of Tsukimori Ryosuke. It was damn hard to. He was so tall, with that bleached hair and often sported those flashy clothes and jewelry... no, you don't lose sight of someone like that, even in the middle of a bustling arcade. Either he'd opted to go some other direction or something happened to him, and well, Kiyama didn't exactly like either of those options.

"Kiyama-san?" Tsuchiya's tiny voice broke Kiyama's thoughts, and he turned to the boy. He was pointing across the room. "Do you think we can hide in there?"

The senior followed Tsuchiya's outstretched finger to a door across the arcade. Mounted on it was a tiny picture of stick people and the letters "W.C." A restroom?

There was nothing else in sight, that would be fine. Without another thought, Kiyama took Tsuchiya's arm again and dashed over towards it.

The bathroom was small. Not tiny, but... obviously not intended for two people, especially when one of these was strangely tall. In front of them stood a Western-style toilet, sink that looked like it may or may not have been cleaned in the last month, an empty soap dispenser, a wedge of a window with faded curtains, filthy plunger... Instinctively, Kiyama scrunched his nose, not wanting to step into the room, let alone touch anything.

He quickly pulled in Tsuchiya behind him, and locked the door. Or at least, he tried. The door still jiggled on its hinges and the knob still turned. Without shaking the door too much (he didn't want to attract any attention from whoever was outside), he found that the door didn't immediately open, but didn't look like it would hold up long to the likes of the group that had just stormed the game center. Those guys were just as big as him and Tsukimori, older, and and looked much more ruthless than many of the yankees he knew. And then there were so many...

This... would be a no-go.

This posed quite the problem. Yet another problem. Kiyama was getting frustrated...

The only reason he'd agreed to this weird day out with his underclassman was because he seriously doubted anything like this would happen. And even if something like... a nasty group of thugs chasing him down did occur, Tsuchiya would be with him, and he trusted himself to look after his junior.

Moreover, he hadn't considered the appearance... and now, subsequent disappearance of Tsukimori Ryosuke. He didn't think he'd have to worry about two other people; he didn't think he'd have to split his attention like this. Given, Tsukimori was also a yankee, and still knew how to get along in street fights... but today, this was just too sudden. Just too much.

Kiyama ran a hand through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. He looked out of the window, wishing for a way out of all this...

...a way out...

"Stand over there," Kiyama said with a grunt, waving a hand towards the far corner of the restroom.

Grimacing slightly, he took up the plunger, positioned himself in between his teammate and the window, and swung.

CRASH!

He froze for a moment, the high pitched shattering buzzing in his ears long after the he first made contact with the pane. Luckily, most of the glass ended up on the other side of the window... and he hoped that the thugs on the other side of the door wouldn't hear the noise over the beeps and bass of the arcade machines. If they didn't, he'd have to make this quick. Kiyama took a few steps closer to window, using the end of the plunger to bash all the jagged shards he could from the frame in such little time.

He grabbed a handful of paper towels and did his best to brush all the glass shards he could out of the window frame. He looked over this handiwork, deciding there was enough space for the first-year to wriggle out before gesturing for Tsuchiya to approach again. As the younger boy approached, Kiyama wriggled out of his jacket and presented it to him. "So you don't cut yourself, okay?"

Then he grabbed the boy by his shoulders and looked him in the eye. This was serious. He knew that Tsuchiya wasn't stupid, but he knew the boy probably didn't have much experience with these kinds of situations. Driving in the urgency of what was happening wouldn't hurt...

He started talking to the boy in a husky whisper. "Get as far away as possible, and then..." -- no, Tsuchiya couldn't run, he'd need all of the time he could get -- "...no, don't stop, just keep going, okay? And call the police."

He let the boy go, and pushed him towards the window.

"Tsuchiya, don't you stop."

Kiyama would watch until the Tsuchiya would disappear climbed out of the window. Even after that, he stuck his head out to watch the first-year move out of the alleyway disappear from sight before he pulled hoisted himself back in the building.

Kiyama didn't believe in any gods, but he suddenly found himself praying to someone that Tsuchiya would be okay, Tsukimori would be okay... that everyone would make it out just fine. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and noticed that his now bare arms were a bit scraped up, and that he was fiddling with that freaking bracelet.

He sighed again.

Because he didn't want to cause trouble for the gymnastics team, he honestly didn't. He didn't want to fight anyone. But the one thing that could push him, the one thing in the entire world that he feared more than anything else...

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, cracking the knuckles of both his hands one by one. It was another bad habit, and one that... he used to hate.

Kiyama turned around and walked out of the bathroom door. He was ready to do whatever he had to do.


OOC: A little godmodding, though I checked with Ter on it. So yeah OMG guyz lets GOOOOOOOOOOOO *is pumped*

[Mizusawa Taku]

ooc: I also did some god-modding, but again, it was allowed!

ic:

Mizusawa froze, staring at the back of a bright, bleach-blonde head. The tall height, the spiked hair, the deeper voice--he immediately recognized Ryosuke. Though he knew the Yankee was here, he'd been so sure that Ryosuke had joined Kiyama and Satoshi in escaping. And he wouldn't have blamed him. But here he was, suddenly defending him. Mizusawa felt his heart skip a beat. He felt relieved, knowing Ryosuke was a good fighter and could protect them both. But he also knew this was a very bad situation. If Ryosuke fought--if either of them fought--they could be kicked off the tumbling team. Or worse, be the cause of its disbandment.

But despite all these thoughts racing through his mind, he was temporarily frozen in place.

"Leave him alone...He has nothing to do with this..."

The main gangster sized Ryosuke up for a moment, sneering at the boy's words and looking somewhat smug, as if he'd managed to capture one of the Yankees on his own, probably glad that Mizusawa had so foolishly appeared at just the right moment.

Staring at him, Mizusawa couldn't begin to understand what kind of pleasure the gangster gleaned from all of this. What was so great about beating people up? What did he get out of it? Could he and his gang possibly feel the same kind of comradeship and sense of accomplishment that their tumbling team did? This seemed such a sad existence.

"Really now? You going to stop me, Tsukimori? Do you really think you're man enough for all of us?" He paused, staring the other down, drawing his face closer to Ryosuke's so that their noses were practically touching. "I didn't think so."

That was when the gangster swung his fist. Something in it glinted against the fluorescent lights above, connecting with the side of Ryosuke's face--the force so powerful that Ryosuke was knocked sideways into a group of the gang members. A second later, and they began to swarm him.

Mizusawa's heart leapt into his throat and stayed there, now pounding uncontrollably. He forced himself to resist calling out Ryosuke's name and risking the gang finding out that they knew each other. He also considered trying to get help again, but once more he was given an unwanted surprise.

The main gangster was staring at him again. Now that Ryosuke was busy fending off all his other men, he was drawing towards Mizusawa once more, getting close enough to yank the boy up by his shirt. Mizusawa forced himself to meet the man's eyes.

"Having fun, kid? You don't look like much of a fighter." Like he'd done with Ryosuke, the man examined his appearance, judging him and his fighting ability. But Mizusawa's eyes never left the other man's face, wondering if there was anything he could possibly do in this situation that wouldn't get him or Ryosuke in further trouble.

So he chose not to answer.

"...A very pure face," the gangster continued as his eyes returned to Mizusawa's, clasping a hand around the back of the boy's neck and drawing their faces closer. Mizusawa felt a sickening, disgusted feeling at the man's words. "I like that. I get to be the first one to break it."

Mizusawa hadn't been sure if the guy had been teasing him, only trying to scare him, but he didn't have to wait long to find out. There was a quick second before something slammed into his stomach--the man's knee--making him double-over as the wind was knocked out of him. Then the same glinting hand the man had used earlier on Ryosuke shot out, smashing into Mizusawa's cheek.

He hadn't been prepared for that. It was nothing like the first punch he had received. This one had left a feeling of fire spreading to the rest of his face from the point of impact, what seemed to be some kind of gash, and had sent him sprawling back to the floor in a dazed heap, this time landing on his stomach. He was still trying to get over the shock of the blow when he heard the footsteps approaching amidst the scuffling and grunting that signaled Ryosuke was still fighting with the other men.

The footsteps stopped beside him, and instinctively his hands went up to protect his head. No matter what, he couldn't defend himself by fighting back. He couldn't. Far too much depended on that. All he could do was lay here and hope he could try to take it.

"Not gonna fight?" came a faked-disappointed voice from above him. The same guy, still mocking him. "So you're a coward then? One of those sissy boys?" Another pause, but Mizusawa remained frozen with his head hidden in his hands, the side of his burning face pressed against the cold, dirty tile of the floor. He could feel the man's disgusted eyes still on him. "No wonder the boss hates you guys so much."

There was a sharp pain as one of the man's boots connected with Mizusawa's side, pain rippling through his ribs and eliciting a cry of pain from the boy. He was flipped back onto his side for the force, and another powerful kick was delivered to his stomach. Despite already feeling choked and robbed of breath, the boy managed a feeble grunt, scrunching his face up against the pain.

He had to fight it like this. He had to. He couldn't fight back. Even now, he could imagine the devastated look on Yuuta's face if he had to find out their club had been disbanded because of Mizusawa's random and entirely stupid visit to the arcade. That was something else he'd never be able to properly explain either, especially now when he could see how blatantly childish and foolish he had been for ever coming here.

His eyes welling up with tears from the pain, he steeled himself as he saw the man's boots drawing closer again, the sound of the man's chilling laughter at his feebleness. Curling up to try and protect himself from what was about to come, Mizusawa squeezed his eyes shut once more, not wanting to watch it happen.

[Tsukimori Ryosuke]

ooc: So....long, somewhat rushed...ACTION TIME! Writing this quick, so I hope there aren't too many errors, and hope all the fighting is okay!!!!

Ryosuke stepped forward, his hands balling into fists at the sight of the gang surrounding his classmate. The brass knuckles on who seemed to be the leader's hand flashed against the light as Ryosuke approached the central focus of the group. The blonde Yankee pushed past two of the guys before them so that he was face to face with the leader. And yet, approaching, he was at the same time busy at work scanning the place for some kind of diversion, a possible weapon--there was no exit available to them now, and yet the deadliest thing Ryosuke saw to potentially attack with was a nearby crane game claw, and that was currently out of reach behind glass.

Returning his focus to the two most important people before him, Ryosuke met the eyes of someone who looked supremely confident in his abilities. And he probably was, what with the sheer number of guys he had on his side.

"Really now? You going to stop me, Tsukimori? Do you really think you're man enough for all of us?"

Ryosuke held his ground even as the somewhat grotesque man drew up close to his face, staring him down as if he expected the blonde Yankee to take off running again. Ryosuke remained silent for the moment, trying to match gazes with the man, though his insides were churning. He couldn't show his fear. More than anything right now, he wanted to know why he'd become this gang's target, what he'd done, how they knew his name....

"I didn't think so." The gang leader responded, smirking.

There was a pause, Ryosuke would wonder later if it he hadn't been expecting what came next, and then suddenly the gang leader lashed out.

Ryosuke didn't even get the chance to defend himself. The gangster's fist collide with the side of his face, hard--Ryosuke felt something hard and metallic--the brass knuckles, he was sure--collide with skin and was secretly thankful he hadn't gotten hit in the teeth. Still, he felt the blow cut through his skin, and then he was sent reeling sideways into a group of the waiting gansters.

Then the madness began.

Ryosuke immediately lost sight of Mizusawa as at least ten of the men in the area moved for him, surrounding him from all sides. The blow had been unexpected, but he'd faced worse and forced himself back to his feet, trying to calm the intense nervousness inside and remind himself that this was just like any other fight, just like any other battle he'd had with Wataru and the gang beside him. He needed to summon up that rush, those feelings of frightened excitement....he needed to become a Yankee again, take these guys out, help his classmate...

Ryosuke stood to his full height. Bring it.

He could do this.

One of the gang members dived forward suddenly, raising something that looked a lot like a club cavemen might have used way back in the day. Ryosuke dodged the attack by ducking low and retaliated with a quick uppercut to the man's jaw. Truth be told, while Wataru specialized in all kinds of attacks, Ryosuke's most powerful moves were his kicks. Nippori was kind of the opposite--he seemed to have incredible proficiency with his fists. Yet, and maybe it had all to do with where they were and what they were facing, Ryosuke suddenly felt more confident in his abilities.

As the first attacker dropped, momentarily down, another guy came forward. He was weaponless, but he lashed out with his foot.

Ryosuke curved his body out of the way, nearly folding himself in half to avoid a groin shot--instead, the man's attack caught him in the thigh and took the both of them down to the ground, though Ryosuke allowed the gangster to be his pillow for the landing before sitting up and driving one fist--his favorite ring set nicely on his pointer finger--into the man's face.

"Cheap bastard!" he hissed, getting to his feet again and stepping on the gang member in the process.

Ryosuke began scanning the crowd again for his classmate, dodging one blow, delivering another, then taking yet another in the side. Someone dived forward suddenly as he searched for Mizusawa, ramming him in the gut backwards into the crane machine he'd been oggling earlier. There was a rain of glass over Ryosuke and the guy now attached to his waist, and the Yankee shut his eyes quickly to keep from going blind.

He reached a hand up to push himself out of the prize machine, various, cheap stuffed animals spilling out over his assailant's head, when his hand connected with the crane claw.

Ryosuke thought to moments before, when he'd glimpsed the metal claw and imagined having it as a weapon, then pulled down with all his weight, secretly delighted to hear an odd cracking and snapping that could only be the sound of breaking metal and wirework.

Next thing he knew, Ryosuke's legs were free to move again, and the guy who'd tackled him had gone down with a mechanical claw blow to the face.

Hopping over the fallen guy, Ryosuke ducked a blow from yet another approaching gangster and took his first open opportunity to kick the guy in the chest, sending him backwards into one of his buddies, who--in turn--showed Ryosuke and his classmate some unintentional support by conking the first guy over the head with his iron pipe as the other crashed into him.

Ryosuke was suddenly amused. These guys had been terrifying before, but suddenly they were showing their capabilities--or lack thereof. Being a member of Wataru's gang had brought Ryosuke into some of the most challenging fights, and yet so far this one was surprisingly easy. The gang had numbers on their side, yes, but the guys Ryosuke had fought so far had seemed a little ridiculous. He wondered....maybe this was all some kind of gross joke?

Suddenly, something hard and solid connected with Ryosuke's shoulder. There was a sort of shock of pain as he heard something snap, and then he felt the mechanical claw fall from his grasp.

Ryosuke's eyes snapped shut as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

Either someone had broken his arm, maybe he'd dislocated his shoulder, or the iron pole of the attacker had somehow connected with a very sensitive nerve. None of the possibilities was fun to imagine, and after kicking the attacker backwards in the gut and bringing him down, Ryosuke found he no longer had use of his right arm. He had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, the pain of moving it was so intense.

F*ck....what had the guy done to him?

Ryosuke suddenly felt helpless with his favored arm out of commission. The feeling of it hanging limp, dead weight against his side, felt wrong. And now he was disoriented too. He felt like a wounded animal, and yet he knew the seriousness of the situation. He knew he had to keep fighting.

As if the thought brought him back to reality, Ryosuke looked up in time to see the gang leader strike Mizusawa down from over the sea of heads. The two weren't too far away, but there were more than enough people in the way to make the Yankee worry further.

The gang was winning. Even despite their foolishness earlier, the realization hit him again. This was a real gang. A mean gang, a serious gang. Whatever they had come for, they would have it. They had been looking for Ryosuke--and evidently Kiyama too, judging by how the others had charged after the dark-haired Yankee when they'd recognized him--and surely they would make sure they succeeded. No one, not even innocent, scared, non-Yankee high schoolers like Mizusawa would get in their way.
Ryosuke knew if he didn't get over to his classmate soon, something even worse could happen. After all, he'd been the one to come into the arcade with the gang trailing him. And thus--even if unintentionally--he'd gotten everyone else involved.

Please be okay, Kiyama, Tsuchiya... Ryosuke prayed with all his heart that the two were all right, that they'd escaped. If they'd been hurt because of him....

Moving forward again, Ryosuke tried hard to keep his injured arm still--no time to make a sling--forward in the direction of the gangster and Mizusawa, who was no longer in his sights. The same thought--Please be okay, please be okay--kept running through his head.

He kicked one guy out of his way, rammed another from behind with his good shoulder, and just as he was nearing, finally almost within reach of touching Mizusawa and his assailant--the former of whom was on the floor now, the gang leader lashing out at him with his foot--Ryosuke felt someone place a hand on his shoulder.

His right shoulder.

And the feeling of the hand was almost instantly consumed with a kind of fire in his entire arm.

Nearly overwhelmed by the pain, Ryosuke fell back, unable to keep from crying out, and suddenly a cold metal was pressed firmly to his neck, nearly crushing his windpipe. He only just saw the person who stepped in front of him behind half closed eyes, his eyes blinded by the pain, the new gangster's weapon--a crow bar--nestled dangerously in hand.

There was a sudden whiplike motion from the man in front of him, and Ryosuke felt another burst of pain, this time in his gut--once, twice, then a third time--until he sank to his knees, the person restraining him with the iron bar to his neck following him to the floor to keep him pinned in place.

Ryosuke tried to lessen the hold the man behind him had on his neck with his good hand, maybe get free, but more blows from the gang member in front of him--to his chest and stomach--only served to knock what little air he had left out of him. Now, with the iron bar tight enough to his throat to cut off his air supply, the room was beginning to darken, and even the blows to his front were becoming less and less painful, the pain fading slowly in conjunction with his consciousness. Ryosuke couldn't even hear himself choking anymore.

He saw more guys closing in, moving from the direction where Kiyama had been. Had the other escaped...?

The sound of the chaos around him was going now too, becoming slow and distorted, and Ryosuke felt himself beginning to go, his attempts to throw off the assailant at his back becoming futile as his good hand fell useless to his side. He prayed one last time that the others were okay, that Mizusawa would somehow get away....

He hadn't been thinking, running from the gang, bringing them here, getting cocky and thinking he could fight them now, all of them, all on his own....

They needed a miracle.

Or another Yankee.

ooc: ACTION!!! >0<

[Tsuchiya Satoshi]

ooc: Sorry for the lateness of this post D:

Satoshi wasn't sure if his idea was a good one, there was no guarantee, they could be found easily enough, and the younger boy didn't want to get Kiyama, or the rest of the gymnastics team, in trouble in case a fight broke out.

But nothing else seemed to ensure some sort of cover for the two. Kiyama appeared to realize this, taking hold of Satoshi's arm and dragging him over to the bathroom. There was a moment where the older boy assessed the small room Satoshi pointed out, but ultimately went inside, all the while pulling him inside, the door nearly falling off but still closed.

There was barely any room within the bathroom, Satoshi pressed up against Kiyama as the other ran a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving his lips. The team manager looked towards the floor. Today was not looking like he had planned. He thought he was going to have a fun day with Kiyama-san, just the two of them, and now…

"Stand over there," Kiyama said with a grunt, waving a hand towards the far corner of the restroom. Satoshi looked up, only nodding as he tried to back up into the corner, watching as Kiyama picked up a plunger, swinging it and smashing it against the window.

CRASH!

Even though he knew it was coming, Satoshi still winced at the noise, his face turned away. From his angle, he could see through a crack in the door. The arcade was close to empty now, the gang members still lurking around. He turned his head back around, watching as Kiyama get rid of any excess shards of glass around the window. He moved forward, only when the older boy gestured him with his hand. He continued to watch, dumbfounded as Kiyama slipped out of his jacket, holding it out for him to take. ”So you don’t cut yourself, okay?”

Satoshi reached out, taking the jacket, not given any time to even put it on when Kiyama grabbed his shoulders, leaning in close, his voice a harsh whisper against the yells outside. ”Get as far away as possible, and then..." -- no, Tsuchiya couldn't run, he'd need all of the time he could get -- "...no, don't stop, just keep going, okay? And call the police." He gulped, nodding, Kiyama letting go of his shoulders and pushed him in the direction of the now broken window. ”Tsuchiya, don’t you stop.”

Slipping on the jacket that was obviously too big on him, the sleeves completely covering his hands, he hoisted himself up onto the toilet, giving Kiyama one last look before climbing through the window. He landed on his feet, quickly getting up and taking off through the alley, finding himself within a crowd. Satoshi glanced around, slowly his pace to match the crowd’s, so not to raise any suspicion. He ducked his head as he passed what he supposed were gang members. The chains on their pants, cigarettes in their hands, and their poorly dyed hair could only mean one thing. He kept his head down until he was far enough away, mingling in with a group to his left.

“Geez, we can never go to the arcade anymore without a fight breaking out. Stupid delinquents.”

Satoshi’s head snapped up.

“Be quiet, you don’t want them to hear you.”

Satoshi bit his tongue, slowly breaking away from the group. He peeked behind him, the arcade’s front now surrounded by Yankees. He shivered, despite the jacket Kiyama lent him. He waited only until he was a bit further away before starting to pick up speed. He was sure, at this distance, no one would notice if someone started to run. He needed to find shelter, somewhere he could phone the police without getting caught.

Kiyama told him not to stop, and so he didn’t, he broke out into a run, bypassing those who made fun of him at the DDR machine, rounding another corner, his breathing heavy. It had been so long since he’d really ran anywhere…

A shock rippled through his body, halting him in mid-run. His hand reached up, clutching his chest. No, not now. Satoshi winced as another shock went through his body, sending him to his knees. His mind went back to earlier, the combination of the DDR machine, and then having to match his steps with Kiyama when they were evading the gang members… And now his running away…

Satoshi pulled at the sleeves of Kiyama’s jacket, his fingers coming free as they began to search his pockets, finding his medicine, tucked away in his pocket. He swallowed two pills dry, gasping as he felt the shocks begin to die down. He took a deep breath, waiting only a moment before standing up. He leaned against a wall, letting his heart calm down before reaching for his phone. His hands shook as he dialed, the phone already ringing. He gulped as the phone connected.

“Miura Police Department, how may I help you?”

Satoshi took a deep breath, “Um… T-there’s…”

“Ma’am? Could you speak up?”

He felt his face flush, but paid it no mind, swallowing before trying to speak again, “There’s… there’s a fight at Miura Playland.” Taking another breath, the shocks finally gone, he let his head fall up against the wall. “It’s a gang. They just showed up. Please, my friends are in there still!”

There was a break, the person’s voice on the other line sounding far away before close again, “Alright, we’re on our way. Miura Playland?”

Satoshi nodded, “Yes. Please, hurry!” He shut his phone, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground. He turned his head in the direction from where he came. He could only hope that Kiyama, that Tsukimori, were fine, that the police would show up soon.


ooc: So… I think Satoshi is officially written out of the thread now?