The Accompanist

Chapter 43: Struggle

Boutarou struggled to follow behind Sayuri. He struggled to keep his hands at his sides. To keep his steps short. To stop himself from dashing into the building and wreaking havoc like the Tasmanian Devil.

"Here's the real plan," said Sayuri, eyes scanning the lawn of her father's luxurious house. "We sneak up through the back door. I'll go inside. Walk in like there's nothing amiss."

Police cars rolled up in the driveway. They ducked against the side of the house and continued sneaking. Boutarou's heart pounded so hard he could see it.

"If anything goes wrong, you both kill whoever is in the way. Understood?"

Boutarou froze. "Kill?"

"Yes. Of course. Isn't that what you've been itching to do this whole time?"

Boutarou's thoughts were a frenzied furry. But he still remembered his sensei's instructions. Only kill when there are no other options. When you're protecting yourself or a loved one. Always aim for a knockout if you get into a fistfight. And if it can be avoided, run away.

"I for one, don't have a problem with it," said the Russian, pulling a pistol out of his pocket.

"Good. Mitsuo, you're up front."

Boutarou gritted his teeth and followed behind, blood coursing through his head. Katsumi, he could kill. Innocent bystanders... He'd fling into the wall. If they died, they died.

When they reached the back door, which was really the patio entrance, Sayuri peered through the glass and into the kitchen. "There's actually an alarm on this door..."

Mitsuo smiled and took out a small ball. "Leave that to me. It should open without a problem, as long as it's unlocked."

"Hm. Consider me impressed."

Boutarou was ready for that door to open. The sooner it opened, the sooner they could get the evidence, and the sooner he could break all of Katsumi's ribs and ruin his chances at ever having children.

And so when Sayuri couldn't open it manually, he put his hand on the handle and yanked sideways. And the lock broke right off of the side of the sliding door, along with the handle. He cursed and punched a hole through the glass, reached in, unlocked it, and threw it open.

Sayuri looked at him like he was deranged. Boutarou crinkled his nose. He had a girl to save.

"What's next?"

"We get to Dad's office. It isn't too far away... And he should be distracted with the police any minute."

"Hm." A voice sounded across the hall. "Didn't expect to see you here, little princess. Hoping to pull one over on your father? You even called the cops?"

"I just came for a playdate with my friends," said Sayuri innocently, putting her hands behind her back. "Can't I bring them in?"

The man looked behind him and narrowed his eyes. He tapped his finger to an earpiece.

One silenced gunshot later, he was on the floor. Dead.

Boutarou turned around, eyes wide.

Mitsuo just tucked the pistol back into his oversized jacket. "It's better that he dies now than the three of us getting surrounded by thirty or more of them later... Let's go."

Sayuri continued walking with a shrug. Boutarou was becoming increasingly more and more weary of the supposed teammates by his side. But he shook his head. Sayaka. You're here to get Sayaka and beat the living snot out of Katsumi.

Down the empty hallway and around the corner they snuck, Sayuri's footsteps soft, Boutarou's aggressive, and Mitsuo's practically non-existent. They maneuvered around an expensive vase and across the marble floor until they reached a spiral staircase going straight up.