The attackers were spaced out, sweeping carefully across the compound as a staggered wave. They picked off members of the Takahiro clan with quiet efficiency, continuing even after the alarm began to ring through building after building. They would regroup later, when the stragglers had been taken care of, when only the core of the clan remained, holed up wherever they planed to make their stand.

Then, they could attack in a group, burn down the buildings and slaughter any who tried to flee. But for now, they worked better spaced apart, ensuring none slipped past their net.

It was a tried-and-true tactic for clearing an area such as this. But they hadn't figured Daisuke into their plans.

One soldier looked up as footsteps echoed out to him within the building he was sweeping through, rifle swinging into aim as the imposing Fist stepped into view. Before he could fire, however, Daisuke hurled his Wakizashi at the man, forcing him to flinch away from the heavy, awkwardly-spinning blade. 

There was no way it could have done more than bruise the man, such a weapon was [i]never[/i] meant to be thrown. But a flinch was all Daisuke needed, his other hand calmly swinging his revolver up to roar rounds into the attacker. Bullets tore through the man, jerking him to the ground as Souma's Fist stepped quickly by, retrieving his blade and moving to the next room.

Still no sign of Souma, still no sign of any of the Heads. They had separated after the ceremony, likely, but where would his Boss have gone to? After so long away from Japan, from the compound that had become their home, where would Souma wish to-

Ah.

Quickening his pace, Daisuke leapt through the fragile soji screen before him, wood and paper tearing apart to startle the assailant creeping along the edge of the outer walkway. He stood clear to the Fist's vision, Wakizashi brought down in an overhand stab that drove it's blade to the hilt into the man's neck.

Two down, Daisuke only moved faster. He knew the place Souma would likely be, so far from where the Fist was now. He moved back inside, using the buildings to hide his movements from any gunmen outside.

And to anyone he encountered on the way, anyone who happened not to be of his Boss's clan?

They fell quickly to steel and lead.

~-~-~

Souma was in pain.

Even as he stood there, left hand clutched tightly around Galina's throat, his right fell from where it had gripped her hair. It hurt too much to use it anymore, his vision blurring and body feeling cold. Overwhelming pain pulsed from his arm in time with each heartbeat, the sharp sear from his leg echoing behind in case he might forget. 

He needed to end things now, right now. Galina had thrown away her blades, she had given up. It gave him pause- no, he [i]had[/i] to end this.

It was either him or her, at this point. Galina might not understand that -she would never have followed him here if she did- but that couldn't save her. 

Even as her hands fell gently upon his face, Souma turned slowly so that the heavy stones at the base of a small statue would come in line with the back of Galina's skull. He had enough strength for this, at least. Finally, he could end this.

-And then the compound behind them erupted into gunfire and shouting.-
"Wha-"

Galina slipped from his grip, Souma stumbling to the ground to find himself kneeling above her. His hand loosened around her throat, there but applying no pressure.

Had this just been a ruse? 

"What... did... [i]Galina![/i]" He shook her by the throat, demanding she open her eyes and meet his gaze. Chaos continued to build behind him, the sounds bringing a desperate, terrified wrath to the fore of Souma's features. Before he ended things, he needed her response, he had to know.

"Look!" He shook her again, nearly bashing her skull into the statue on accident. "[i]Galina![/i] What... what did you do?"