LOVE: UNLIMITED - D.K X READER

7 - PARADIGM SHIFT

Often you'd see yourself as passive - not condoned to violence, overall neutral in physical situations and the contrast to aggression. You'd ease to an angry person's will, and you did so willingly. Maybe someone who hadn't seen you in action would even say you weren't fit for fighting; maybe Kamei, or someone you'd only shown half of yourself to. Being a friend to someone is one thing - in your eyes, they only see what you want them to see. So, the popular belief would most likely be you weren't very aggressive in combat.

But holy hell, did you know how to use a gun.

Guns brought out the best in you - on the range, in the field, or on the top floor of a strange and ambiguous drug party you weren't sure you'd get out of unscaved. The way your blood vessels constricted from the venomous bite of adrenaline; how your pulse put mettle under tension, spreading excited delirium into every fracture of your mortal tolerance. Your peripherals that collapsed, drawing out your target in focused firing of a sympathetic nervous system.

What exactly brought you to holding a gun so close to you in a room of neon lights and mysterious smokes came to you like a hammer blow to the head. A simple plan - devised by you, and carried out by you. 

You carried the gun - you had the power. In the waiting room standing just outside the place you needed to be, you held onto the biggest source of power you could get.

But the extremely broad and muscular bodyguard waiting for you screwed up all hopes of getting in there without something to protect yourself.

-

3 days before the events now taking place, you'd proposed a plan to the Kambe family. 

A stakeout; a hunt for whatever extra information you could scavenge while they did the dirty work. Sure, they could get whatever they wanted; but not what they needed to close this case.

That's where you came in.

Handed a list of names for the party taking place, you'd determined where exactly you'd have to go and what measures you'd have to take. Suzue had managed to sizzle out a series of papers from an underling at Millenium Entertainment, solidifying the idea that that company was involved. Labeled 'THE TOWER PARTY', visitors and partygoers had to go by aliases - fake names to hide any left identity they claimed to have. Nicknames - keywords you needed to use before entering the room of intoxicating fumes and substances. 

So now you stood in a waiting room, stripped of any dignity and disguised in a dress you surely couldn't afford on your own. Your only sense of identity was your mask of smiles that hid the sorrows and regrets behind and the card that hid your real reason to be here. Oh - and the gun you hid in your duffel bag.

"Hi, I'm Kouchiyama. I'm here as Whiskey!"

The fakeness in your voice helped you realise how sick you felt to be here. You held up the card you'd hidden yourself with, reading 'MANGROVE ENTERTAINMENT, LTD. ICHIROU KOUCHIYAMA'. Not your real name, and not anything to do with you. A stolen identity that had fake names that didn't even belong to you.

"Please enter."

A deep and intimidating voice came through the intercom of the waiting room you stood in, and a door opened automatically; a triggered event. Who you came to face with was someone who perfectly matched his own voice; and that terrified you.