Wake from Your Dreams

That Yakuza thing blew up real big. Literally.

I was all casual sitting on my bed watching some wacky game show where folks were abusing themselves in ridiculous contests for yen when my window smashed and something hit the floor. I went from "Ha, Velcro wall and outfits" to "Explosive device!" in about three seconds. I sped up, picked it up, and lobbed it back through the window as I hard as I could, then ran like hell outside and closed the bedroom door behind me. I heard the BOOM when I was a step away from Brad's bedroom door. He was already packing his laptop and had his guns on. He tossed me a pair of house slippers since my bare feet were bleeding into everything. Fucking glass from the smashed window. I had small glass shards in my feet and my right hand. I put them on and shot him a "Did you foresee this?" look that he answered with an annoyed scowl, which plainly meant "No." He shot me a "Work it, Schu" look, so I told him there were five mobsters in the lobby, two at the exit for the parking garage, and three coming up in the elevators. Hey, Tokyo is fucking big and chock full of people making noise. I'm not constantly checking our building just in case. Even Brad's paranoia isn't big enough to have me doing that 24/7.

He was ready to storm the elevators, but I told him I might have another way. I carefully opened the door to my room since the knob wasn't hot yet. Would be soon though, from how my room was blasted and catching fire in numerous places. I'd thrown the thing far, but it had evidently packed a hell of a kick. I took me and Brad through the Portal I'd found in and anchored to my bedroom and took us out through the Portal in the parking garage. It's not near the car but close enough. Brad got this look on his face, but I told them there weren't many of these around our area--unfortunately true for my world--and that it took strength out of me, which is kinda true but more likely when I did a lot more than this. He'd take advantage of my new talent to my death if I let him. He gets so overexcited about new skills.

We'd left all kinds of shit behind us all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas over the years. It's just stuff. I had a hell of a lot of stuff in our Tokyo apartment due to us being there for years, but my life's more important, thanks. Besides, my pretty new top was neatly stowed in a bag on the floor in the back of the car. We'd already packed a lot of our essentials in the car. I got my guns out from under the seat. Brad saw me bleeding so he drove while I had a gun in my left hand--I learned how to shoot with my left hand as a wee Schu--and picked off the Yakuza at the garage exit. Brad wanted our car kept as nice as possible even now that he only ran over one corpse. Me, I would have backed over them.

Nagi flew in over our car, so we let him in, and being Nagi he pulled all the glass out of me with telekinesis and bandaged me up nicely too. Sweet. The Radio Free Schwarz link remains, though Farfarello's too far out of range to work for him. Nagi knew we'd become too hot to stay in Japan, but he said nothing, just squeezed my shoulder with his hand, which I squeezed back with my left hand. Brad was already calling in several plane tickets to different places under many different names to keep anyone following us guessing.

Of course, we couldn't leave without making our displeasure very clear. If we had to be too hot for Japan, let's really earn it.

We killed 100 of the Yakuza, including two of the higher-ups, with a few explosions. There's a high for you, though the comedown can be toxic. I feel a little sick now, actually. Too much at once, too rich, too... much. It's like gorging yourself at a French restaurant.

I gave Nagi a big hug and a friendly grope at the airport, promising him I'd visit. Brad let me sleep on the plane.

I'll miss Tokyo, to my surprise, but we're in London now! Brad is really trying to get me to stick around more.