A bat cracked against bone. One of the middle schoolers had grabbed it and swung at a thug's jaw. Teeth scattered across the concrete. The boy spat. "Motherfucker."
Naseru's eyebrows shot up.
"I'm not a Lionfish," Naseru said, raising his hands.
"Yeah," the more battered boy said, pulling glass from his arm, tears streaming down his face. "I figured. Why else beat the shit out of your business partners?"
Naseru nodded and crossed to the ratty couch. Something pale caught his eye underneath—a naked leg, a small shoe. He grabbed the couch's edge and shoved it aside. A girl lay beneath, disoriented, nude. Naseru's jaw clenched as he looked away.
"No... not going to do it..." she mumbled, half-conscious.
Naseru grabbed a stained tablecloth and draped it over her before moving to Makoto.
He knelt and placed his hands on Makoto's shoulders, shaking gently. Makoto's eyes fluttered open. "Is that you Na—"
"Yep." Naseru helped him sit up.
"I had to incapacitate them," Naseru said quietly. "It was deliberate. Nothing wasted."
The three thugs sprawled across the floor, arms twisted at wrong angles, clutching broken ribs. Their fight was gone.
"They're down for the count. Those two know where the girls are. Call the cops."
Makoto winced. "Is there a girl called Hiroko here? Sayori?"
The middle schoolers exchanged glances and nodded. "Yeah, she's here."
Makoto's shoulders sagged with relief. Naseru looked at the boys. "Show me."
They pointed to a padlocked door. Naseru stepped over the groaning thugs, grabbed bolt cutters from the wall, and snapped the lock. "You're safe now!"
The first girl stumbled forward. A ball gag stretched her mouth, saliva coating her chin. Zip ties bound her wrists. Rubber goggles wrapped in packing tape covered her eyes.
All the girls wore similar restraints—gags, blindfolds, zip ties cutting into their skin. Naseru carefully unbuckled the first girl's gag. She gulped air as he snapped the goggle straps.
A dark-haired girl pushed to the front. Scratch marks covered her face where she'd tried to claw off her own gag. Naseru pulled her goggles free. Smeared eyeliner ringed her eyes like a panda's mask, but fury burned beneath. She shoved past him, barefoot and topless, marched to the unconscious thugs, and spat on them.
"Jokes on you, I like that. Do it to me some more," Katsuo laughed weakly.
One of the middle schoolers grabbed the bat and started beating Katsuo, screaming, "Die you demon!"
Naseru caught the bat mid-swing. "Stop, kid. You don't want to accidentally kill him."
"But they tortured and taunted us!" The boy shouted and staggered the boy breathed heavy.
Makoto struggled to his feet and draped his blazer over the girl's shoulders, covering the finger-shaped bruises on her arms. She looked around the room and let out a choked gasp.
"Makoto, oh my god." She collapsed into his arms.
"Police are coming," he said, holding her tight. "They'll be here any minute."
Naseru grabbed Katsuo's phone. Still wearing gloves, he held it to Katsuo's face until it unlocked. He opened FaceTablet and found a support group for abuse survivors. If the police were compromised, these people could get the evidence to journalists. Naseru scrolled through Katsuo's photo gallery and sent everything—videos, photos, all of it—to random members of the group.
Stepping outside, Naseru approached the beer-bellied man. "Need handcuffs for the girls."
The man nodded and led him down a corridor. Naseru's fist crashed into his nose. Blood sprayed as he collapsed.
Naseru dragged the bleeding man back and grabbed his handcuffs. He cuffed the conscious thugs to the exposed pipes along the wall, then knelt beside Katsuo and slapped him twice.
Katsuo groaned. "Why did you slap me twice?"
Naseru slapped him a third time.
Naseru froze and looked over at Makoto. He crossed the room in two confident strides and clapped his classmate on the shoulder and ascended the stairs. He didn't want to take this moment of heroism from him.
At the entrance, the door opened. Two men stepped inside.
"Who the hell are you?"
Naseru pulled out Katsuo's key—the Tokyo Lionfish token. Both men's eyes widened in recognition.
"Is that real? What's your name?"
Naseru approached the first man and placed the key in his palm. As the guy looked down, astonished, and tried to look up, Naseru's elbow struck the side of his face, knocking him unconscious. The second man, surprised, moved to tussle with Naseru, but Naseru drove his fist into the man's gut and liver. The man dropped to his knees, breathless. Naseru swiped his fist across the man's ear, sending his face crashing into the broken wooden floorboards.
Naseru retrieved the key from the unconscious man's palm and exited the apartment, leaving the door slightly open. Behind him, Makoto helped the girls while the boys called police and paramedics.
Naseru slipped out of the building and down an alley, stuffing the paper mask in his pocket. He'd torch it—too much DNA evidence. Vigilantism worked better in shadows.
He didn't notice someone watching as he fled. Hidden behind a lamppost and vending machine, Kaho peered through soft drink advertisements as Naseru removed his plastic mask and bolted out of sight. Sirens wailed closer.
Karaoke had been a bust, there were no rooms available, and while the others sought fun elsewhere, Kaho had seen Makoto, Naseru and Katsuo slip down an alley and felt something in the pit of her stomach screaming to follow.
Kaho put her hands to her face and sighed. It was going to be much harder to keep him out of trouble if sirens were already pursuing him. How was she supposed to get him to join the basketball team like that? She groaned and trudged along after him.