Cold, gritty, concrete and the taste of iron is what Hajime Hinata awoke to, in a hazy, stupefied state. He let out a cough, eliciting small plumes of dust from the floor, which his face was pressed up against. He gently pressed his palms against the floor and pushed himself upward. Bits of gritty dirt stuck to his cheek, which he promptly brushed off. The room was darkly lit and his eyes took some time to adjust. A single, dim fluorescent tube on the ceiling flickered above him, providing barely any light at all.

( Where the hell am I? )
As soon as he gathered his senses, he felt his chest with his hands and then reached up to feel his face. This did not appear to be a dream. If it was, it was a pretty vivid one. Hajime rested on his knees and tried to rise to his feet. His muscles felt strangely weak, as if he had been sleeping for far too long. He was wearing a nice suit, clearly dressed for some kind of special occasion. The young man wore a black tuxedo coat over a white collared shirt, a black tie, and black pants.
( How long was I out? )

As he surveyed the dark room he began to see other forms rising from the murky void. The slumped figures grew in size, all around him. The sounds of murmuring and restlessness filled the room. For a brief moment, Hajime was frozen in place by confusion and fear. However, as his eyes adjusted and the sounds were familiar to him.

"Gnnn… Wha… What the hell?" spoke a familiar standoffish voice. The young Yakuza heir, Fuyuhiko, dizzily stumbled as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Ughh… god… my head..." spoke another uppity but more feminine voice, which Hajime knew all too well. Hajime jolted to attention and ventured through the darkness, in the direction of that particular voice. He was careful not to stumble over any of the other shadowy figures, awaking from their slumber, as he made his way over to her.

"Natsumi! Are you OK?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders. The blonde haired girl squinted through the darkness and looked up at him weakly.
"Hajime? Where… What?..." she murmured, in a state of disorientation. The room began to grow louder and more restless as more people rose from their slumbering state. Hajime turned his attention away from Natsumi and gazed around the room.

"What is this?… What the hell is going on?!..." he whispered under his breath, as it finally hit him. There were a lot more people than he initially realized. Trapped in this room with him, were thirteen others. As his eyes adjusted and he listened to their voices, he recognized each and every one of them. The room was filled with the leading members of both Kuzuryu-gumi and the Minamoto clan. All of them were dressed fashionably, as if they had just come from a party of some kind.

Matsushige Kuzuryu and his bodyguard Yudai Sagara were in attendance. Yudai quickly helped the Oyabun to his feet. " That must have been some party. I haven't woken up this sore since I was..." Matsushige quipped before nearly stumbling.

"Easy sir! Don't try to get up too fast," Yudai urged, catching him by the arm.

"Hinata!" yelled a familiar disgruntled voice. There stood Takuo, as grumpy and ill mannered as ever. "This is no time to be standing around with your mouth gaping open. Stay on guard," he yelled, baring his fist.

"On guard from what? I hope you don't intend to implicate us in this bizarre turn of events," said a voice that Hajime was not quite fond of. Tatsuji Hatoyama, the second in command and de facto administrative leader of the Minamoto clan. Alongside him, were numerous other familiar members of the clan. Like the Kuzuryu members, they had begun grouping together on one side of the room, helping each other to their feet.

Hajime did a quick head count of the adversarial clan members. There was the short haired tomboy (AKA the official leader of the Hideki Minamoto fan club) Eri Kusakari. She worriedly looked around the room. When her gaze met Hajime's, her expression briefly turned to malice that was detectable even through the veil of darkness in the room. She then looked away and returned her attention to her comrades.

The musclebound, ever intimidating head of Minamoto security, Genta Nagakura stood with his hands behind his back, standing as a barrier between the Minamoto half of the room and the Kuzuryu half of the room.

Takuo sauntered over to the man twice his size, without a hint of fear. He looked up at him and tilted his head. "What's the problem, big guy?" he asked, sneeringly. Takuo did not take kindly to being leered at suspiciously.

The man stared down at him with a cold and unwavering expression. "Nothing at all, sir… as long as you stay on your side of the room."

Takuo smiled with sarcastic contempt and then spoke in a softer, more menacing voice than Hajime had ever seen. He leaned in close as he spoke," Oh. So I guess you Minamoto guys are making the rules now? Isn't that cute?"

Takuo was interrupted as a hand fell on his shoulder. It was a strong, calloused hand, missing it's pinky finger.
"Take it easy, kid. The man's just doing his job. This really ain't the place to be picking a fight," Satsuo Kuzuryu laughed, casting an apologetic grin towards Nagakura. Takuo angrily shook off Satsuo's hand and sulked back to the others.

Meanwhile, the ever illustrious Maaya Umebayashi had come to consciousness,and was helped to her feet by her bodyguard Ichiro Okimoto. Hajime had only seen this man a few times. The man had a black beard and a samurai-esque bun. In a departure from his usual traditional clothing, he wore a nice suit, like the rest of the men in the room.

"Well now... you Kuzuryu certainly know how to show a lady a good time," the forty-something year old woman sarcastically jeered, as she straightened her dress and her cleavage. "Are kidnappings back in style again? How romantic."

"Forgive me, Maaya. I completely failed to protect you. This kind of incompetence is inexcusable," Ichiro muttered in dejection and self loathing. He lowered his head, apologetically.

The red haired woman leaned down and placed her hand on Ichiro's chin. "Oh stop it, Ichiro. You're embarrassing us," she said, before walking towards the Kuzuryu side of the room.

"It would be nice if one of you could fill me in on what exactly is going on here."

Matsushige stepped forward, flanked by both Takuo and Yudai. Likewise, Maaya was flanked by Nagakura and her own bodyguard.

"I'm afraid your guess is as good as ours, Miss. Umebayashi. It looks like we are all in the same boat."

Then a voice spoke up from the other side of the room. It was the steward Oyabun of the Minamoto family, Shinta Masuichi. The old man sat on the floor with crossed legs and leaned back against the wall. He spoke in a calm, almost jovial manner.

"It seems to me that there are two general possibilities. Either this is the worst afterparty in recent memory, or we have all been kidnapped. I think we can assume the latter."

"Judging by the fact that they brought us here against our will, their intentions are probably… not good," Yudai noted, ominously.

Matsushige nodded in agreement. "Right. However, they didn't kill us either, which they could have easily done. So there's that to consider."

"Whoever they are, I must say, they are pretty daring to attempt something like this. Kidnapping the leaders of the two strongest Yakuza families. They are either incredibly brave or insane," Maaya noted.

"What's more insane is that the bastards actually somehow pulled it off!" Takuo seethed angrily, balling his fist in frustration," How the fuck did this happen?! Our security was flawless!"

"I don't know who we're dealing with here, but we shouldn't underestimate them. If they managed to pull off a stunt like this, they are surely well funded. This is most likely the act of an organization, rather than a single individual," Tatsuji Hatoyama hypothesized, in a solemn tone.

As they were discussing this, Hajime returned to Natsumi to make sure she was alright. Protecting her was his sole priority at the moment. She sat on the floor against the wall. The wall itself was metallic, unlike the rest of the room.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, extending his hand to help pull her to her feet..

"I'm fine. I think whatever they drugged us with is wearing off. But… what the hell is going on, Hajime? I… think some really terrible stuff is gonna happen soon. I just know it."

Hajime could feel knots in his stomach as well. Every instinct was telling him that something was horribly wrong, that they shouldn't be here. He had an immutable sense of imminent, grave danger.

"I do too. But I promise that whatever it is, we'll make it through this," he was interrupted as Fuyuhiko called over to them.
"Hey, Peko's awake!" the young Yakuza exclaimed, as he cradled the semi-conscious, silver haired girl in his arms. Her red eyes slowly blinked and she let out a slight murmur as she regained consciousness.

"Unn… Young master?!" she cried out in surprise as she realized he was holding her. Her face flushed red with embarrassment and she quickly pushed away, causing her glasses to become lopsided on her face. "W-what is this? Where are we?" she asked, looking around the room in bewilderment.

"I wish I could tell ya. Someone made a big fucking mistake by doing this to us, and when we find out who, there's gonna be hell to pay," the young Yakuza seethed, holding up his clenched fist.

Peko pushed her glasses into place and looked around the room. "The Minamoto are here as well?" she whispered as her eyes went wide. "Young master… I don't like the looks of this. We need to exercise caution!"

Fuyuhiko placed his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "It'll be fine. Everyone's here. If the bastards who kidnapped us try anything, it's not gonna end well for them."

Fuyuhiko's sentiment was comforting to her, but her mind was still racing.

"Still… Where is Hinata?" she asked, pausing to look around the room.

"Right here," Hajime called out as he walked over to kneel by the silver haired girl.
"Hajime… I want your honest opinion. Do you think that… this could be-"

A sudden, sharp, hissing noise filled the room, and a flash of white light drew everyone's attention. A small CRT tv, previously cloaked in darkness, suddenly burst to life. It was mounted on the wall, in the center of the room. It filled the room with the sound of crackling static for a brief few seconds before stabilizing and displaying the image of a sinister figure. The room was so silent in that moment that only the humming of the TV's cathodes could be heard.

The individual in the video wore a black cloak and a hood. Their hands were covered by black, leather gloves and their face was hidden behind a familiar looking mask. It displayed the visage of a stuffed bear. One half of the face was white and the other half was black, with a twisted red smile that ran halfway up its face. Hajime's body froze in place as he gazed up at the TV, his mouth agape.

( No… There's no way )

.

The silence was broken as the cloaked figure spoke in a deep, almost robotic voice. They spoke intelligibly, but heavily filtered through some kind of computer program, giving them an ominous, distorted resonance.

"Hierarchies are celestial. In hell, all are equal. Nicolás Gómez Dávila. It's a sentiment that all of you should all relate world of the Yakuza is built on hierarchy. It is the bedrock of your empire, is it not? However, the current hierarchy seems… lacking."

"W-what the fuck is this?" Fuyuhiko exclaimed, as he shakily pointed at the TV.

Peko pupils dilated and her intense gaze was locked on the screen.

Takuo grit his teeth bitterly. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Maaya was intently locked on the screen as well and she muttered nervously under her breath. "Enoshima?"

The figure continued. "Now, the question which you are all wondering is why you are here, or perhaps, what is in store for you. And the answer is freedom. True freedom."
"What is this guy babbling on about?" Natsumi grunted angrily.

"Your clans were once fierce, determined, brutal. You fought relentlessly for decades. Those were times of great hope and also great despair. It was the only time when your clans truly lived up to their names. In your own twisted way, you embodied a human ideal, but now you have become like the rest of the world. Neutered, jaded, weak. You have forgotten the virtue of struggle. You inhabit a state without hope or despair. You inhabit the void of certainty and order. However, tonight you will regain your purpose. You will be a beacon of chaos that shines the way for mankind. You will clash in a battle of life and death, hope and despair. It is with great pride that I welcome all of you to the Ultimate Contest of Blood."

( A battle of life and death?... Contest of blood? )

Hajime's ears were ringing and his legs went numb. His worst fears had been realized. He felt the icy grip of mortal dread throttle his insides. How could this be happening? Enoshima and her cohorts were dead. Their experiments, prototypes and blueprints had all been confiscated. After so many months, why was this happening now?

"In this game, there is but one rule and that is to survive, by any means necessary. You will face deadly obstacles, duels to the death, and above all, tests of loyalty."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Takuo yelled at the screen. "Do you have any idea who you're fucking talking to?!"

Fuyuhiko also joined in angrily "Don't fuck with us! We're not playing your little games!"

Tatsuji Hatoyama also stepped up, adjusting his glasses. "I must concur with the Kuzuryu. If you think we will participate in such a thing, you are sorely mistaken. We are not going to be led around by the nose, by a childish psychopath."

By the time they unleashed their angry declarations upon the cloaked figure, the video had already ended and was in the process of fizzling away. The image began to distort with wide, horizontal scan lines. The image of the ghastly figure faded into static static, before shutting off completely. The room was left much darker, and much quieter than before.

"Well… that was weird," Satsuo said in a flippant tone.

Ichiro stood close to his mistress, protectively and muttered to her. "Do you think he got the message?" he asked.

"I sincerely doubt it. It was probably just a recording," the busty woman murmured, with unease in her voice.

Hajime still stood like a statue, dumbfounded by what he had just seen and heard. His thoughts were a jumble of worst case scenarios and contingency plans, swirling in a cauldron of anxiety. Those thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he felt Natsumi slide up to him and clutch his hand tightly. He looked over at her and met her concerned eyes with his.

"Hey! Don't let that nut job rattle you, Hajime! Don't zone out on me. I need you here… got it?" She said softly, squeezing his hand tightly with hers. Before Hajime could say anything he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We need to talk, Hinata," Takuo said, gruffly. "You too Pekoyama."

Both Hajime and the silver haired girl were led over to where Satsuo, Matsushige, and Yudai were huddled. Matsushige had a look of concern, as he welcomed Hajime to the group.

"Hajime. Pekoyama. We would like to discuss some things with you, as you were the ones tasked with taking out Junko and her accomplices."
"News flash. You missed one," Takuo shot snidely.

"More than one probably. I doubt that one person pulled all this off," Yudai also noted.

Peko bowed her head in shame. Hajime wanted to make some kind of excuse, but Takuo and Yudai's words stabbed deep and true. Could he have prevented this? Did he miss something? Was this all his fault?

Matsushige stepped in to calm the situation. "Now, gentlemen. We aren't here to point fingers. These two risked their lives and did everything in their power. I believe that wholeheartedly. We don't know where this person came from, and there is no point in blaming each other. What we need to do is compile everything that we do know."

"Ahem. Excuse me," a woman's voice spoke calmly, poking into their conversation. Maaya Umebayashi had overstepped the invisible line into the Kuzuryu half the room. "Considering that we are in the same situation you are, we are also entitled to this information. It is only fair that you share it with us as well."

Takuo sneered and crossed his arms. "Oh really? You guys want to be included? That's pretty rich. Especially since… I think we both know who's responsible for this. It's all pretty obvious to me."
Hatoyama stepped forward adjusting his glasses and eyeing Takuo with subtle a, yet wrathful glare. "Whatever you are implying, I suggest you either be forthright, or simply keep your mouth shut."

Takuo stepped forward, squaring up with the middle aged man. As he did, Genta and Ichiro also stepped forward to back up Hatoyama.

Takuo's lip snarled with contempt. "As if I even need to say it. I'm thinking it. You're thinking it. Everyone is. I don't need to say a goddamn thing."

"Hideki had nothing to do with this! You don't know what you're talking about!" screamed a voice from across the room. Eri Kusakari, who had been mostly silent this whole time had finally spoken up. The short haired girl had tears in her eyes and she glared at takuo with seething hatred. She stomped over to him and tightly grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"Tch, please..." scoffed Takuo. "That psychotic bastard's fingerprints are all over this. That's what's gotten you so worked up, because you know it's true."

"Hideki is the future Oyabun of the Minamoto family! He would never do this to us! What gives you, a fucking nobody, the right to stand there and slander him like this?" the livid girl yelled.

"I suggest you take your hands off of me, kid. Now."

"Take back what you said, goddammit! Take it ba-"

The girl flew backward with a "thunk" as Takuo's fist collided with her jaw, knocking her off her feet. It dazed her and caused a string of crimson blood to fly from her mouth as she tumbled to the cold, concrete floor. Her vision was even blurred than before, as her eyes watered. She recovered quickly and wiped the blood from her lip as she pulled herself to her feet. Her eyes burned with bloodlust. She got up to charge at Takuo, but her arm was grabbed from behind by Nagakura.

Yudai placed his hand on Takuo's shoulder as well. "Take it easy, man. We're in a precarious situation right now."

Takuo brushed off his hand angrily," Yeah yeah. If they want to start something, then it's their funeral," he said, waving his arms out. "Look around you. We may not have any weapons, but there are eight of us and only six of them. Do the math. The outcome is obvious."

"Yes," Hatoyama agreed, adjusting his glasses. "It seems to be the case that we are outnumbered. Not very sportsmanlike, if this mastermind intends on pitting our clans against one another. However, let me offer a warning to you, Mr Takuo," Hatoyama spoke calmly and coldly. "As you so brazenly asserted, we would face certain death if you were to all attack us all at once. I cannot deny that. However, do not believe that the Minamoto clan will go quietly into the night. I assure you many, if not most of your associates would lose their lives as well. Furthermore, once news of our downfall reached our compatriots, it would mean all out war between the two clans. So, Oyabun Kuzuyu, I suggest you keep your underlings, especially this one, on a tight leash. At the very least keep them from plotting our demise right before our very eyes. There is only so much we are willing to tolerate."

The tension in the air seemed to tighten with every syllable of Hatoyama's dooming monologue. Looks of suspicion and unease shot across both sides of the room like lasers. Hajime gulped as he could already feel those around him poised for battle.

Matsushige stepped forward. "I understand your sentiments, Mr. Hatoyama. Takuo, please refrain from placating any notions of clan conflict. We have all agreed to put that history far behind us now. Whether the mastermind happens to belong to either of our clans is not our primary concern. Whoever they are, they are the enemy of everyone in this room. What matters is what the mastermind wants. They want a spectacle. They want us to fight each other and slaughter each other, for their own sick pleasure. If we give in, we are doing exactly what they want. If we start playing by their rules, we will become nothing more than obedient pawns. From here on, let's all swear that no matter what happens, we will not resort to killing one another. We will not participate in this game."

The room exchanged suspicious glances and nervous nods. Matsushige looked around proudly, making eye contact with everyone in the room. "Very good. If anyone wishes to abstain from this agreement, then-"

He was interrupted as a white gas began pumping into the room, from valves in all four corners of the ceiling.

"You've gotta be shittin me," Takuo grunted as the room was flooded with a potent knockout gas.

"Everyone cover your face!" Ichiro called out, to which Statsuo mocked

"Yeah. That always works" with a hearty, coughing laugh.

Hajime's blood was pumping fast and his mind was racing even faster.

(No… I know what he's doing.)

A flurry of terrifying thoughts ran through Hajime's mind. He knew what was coming next, or at least he had a pretty good idea, based on what had happened to the student council. They were being put under again and who knows what they would wake up to.
A burst of light sent white rays flickering through the cloudy smoke. The blurry image of the figure from before could be seen on the TV.

"Now that you have all had time to process things, it is time for us to begin. You will all be put to sleep and when you awaken you will be randomly assigned in pairs. And from there, the real game will begin. Sleep well."

Hajime's heart dropped. Despite the yelling and chaos that filled the room, Hajime's sense of hearing dulled. He turned to Peko and Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko had already passed out and Peko rested his head on her kneeling lap, while her own eyelids drooped and her body sagged. Natsumi was on the ground, coughing into her hand. Hajime reached out to her but his fingers went numb. He could only feel faint tingling in his limbs as he collapsed to the ground and fell into a deep sleep.