Let Me In

They had been outnumbered. It was not an unfamiliar situation to them, and most of them would have been able to hold their own, except that this time, the other side had called in an especially skilled fighter.

"Mr fucking Morningstar," Mikka sulked.

Keary, who was usually able to single-handedly take down groups at a time, had been holding off this new opponent, but the man was sly, and had managed to snatch one of Shun's poisoned knives.

"Poisoned knives??" Cardin spun to the green-eyed young man. "You were throwing poisoned knives around the house, at me??"

Shun merely held up his hands in an innocent shrug, but he looked embarrassed at the recount of the earlier events.

Anyway, the unknown fighter had flung the knife at Mikka, but Keary had managed to dart between them, costing him the first wound in his back. That's when things started going downhill. The poison slowed his movements, and the rest of the enemy, realising this, had focused their attacks on him, until Kumiko had created a diversion that allowed Nigel to get him to safety.

"Wait a moment." Cardin held up a hand. "What were you all doing there? Why were you even fighting?"

A pause greeted his question, as the rest of them looked to Nigel, who frowned as his teeth worried his lower lip. "Well, we're sort of like a… consultancy."

"Consultancy??"

"Um… yeah, well–"

"What sort of consultancy requires getting into fights??"

Finneas gave a loud, impatient sigh. "Ugh, just cut the crap. We're a fucking mercenary group that does dirty work for people if they pay us enough money."

"We were tasked to intercept a shipment to weaken another organisation," Kumiko added quietly.

"A shipment of what?"

Shun shrugged. "The client just told us to take care of it, which means destroying it is an option too."

Catching Cardin's shocked face, Finneas said, "Don't worry. It's fun. Sometimes."

The blonde whipped back to Nigel. "You told me you worked at a hedge fund!" he accused.

"I do! We all have our own day jobs. This is more of a… side hustle?"

"Hobby," Finneas snorted.

"Whatever, Finn. We all have our own reasons for doing this."

Rubbing his temples, Cardin sighed. "Couldn't you have thought up a less sketchy kind of business?"

Nigel looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't there more legitimate ways of making money? How'd you even come up with an idea like this? And now Keary's all messed up because of this little gang you put together."

The rust-haired man's face took on a stunned look, which then melted into understanding. Calmly, he said, "You've got it wrong, Cardin. I'm not the leader of this band."

"Then who is?" Frustrated, the blue gaze cast around the other four, who merely stared back at him with faces filled with incomprehension at his question.

"Why, Keary, of course."

There was a long moment of silence as things fell into place: Keary's cryptic replies about his work, the nighttime disappearances, his disdain towards formal education… Cardin gave a loud groan of frustration and threw his hands up. At least it wasn't another lover.

"Bordel de merde! We've got work to do."

...

Their second attack began an hour before dawn, and was announced by the alarm in the warehouse. The shrill ringing shattered the complacent quiet, and was met by disbelief. Those manning the area hadn't expected a second attack from the gang within the same night of their earlier defeat. Didn't young punks usually take a few days at least to lick their wounds? But the alarm was still ringing, and there was nothing for it but to grab the nearest weapon and follow where everyone else was running to meet the five black-clad figures standing some distance outside of the main entrance.

"Look! What a warm welcome!" Nigel clasped his hands together, eyebrows knitting upward in a touched expression. "I knew you'd miss us, guys! Sorry we had to rush off so suddenly earlier!"

Beside him, Shun snorted, gloved hands folded across his chest.

"Tch." Mikka clicked her tongue, arms slung over the staff that lay across her shoulders. "I don't recall them looking THIS ugly."

Kumiko twirled a fan idly around her index finger. "Don't be mean, Cyclone. You have to remember that we rearranged some of their faces earlier."

"I guess you're right." The blue-haired girl squinted at the crowd, then pointed and laughed. "Oh! I know that one from just now! Hiya, remember me?" she called and waved to a random guy in the mass, who bared his teeth threateningly. "Aww, DJ, he's mad 'cause I broke his nose," she giggled aside to Kumiko.

"If we do what we're supposed to do, they won't remember a thing," Finneas murmured.

"What are you talking about, Wire?" Nigel pulled his mask up over a broad grin, amber eyes bright. "We're going to give them a show they'll never forget!"

He nodded to Shun. At the cue, the Snake threw a few fist-sized orbs into the air. Nigel flicked his arm, and poker cards whizzed through the air and struck the orbs, which exploded into clouds of different colours. As the fumes settled on those standing the closest, the men began to cough. They fell to the ground sputtering, and completely missed Cyclone's leap through the multicoloured smog as she dissipated it with her whirling staff.

"Tapping out so fast?" she pouted under her mask. "You guys are no fun! Hey, you fugly clowns!" she called out to the rest. "You gonna come get us or what?"

After a beat of hesitation for the remaining men to catch up with what was happening, they gave a roar, which swelled as it travelled through the crowd. This was war.

So far so good, and no morningstar in sight. Let's just hope he's clocked out for the night, and isn't inside the warehouse, Nigel thought as the rabble charged towards them. Now we wait for Cardin's signal.

...