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[color=Silver]	Ten minutes had passed. Interfering with all that Iwata had laying around was no easy task; at each lift of a small object, he had to ensure there weren't any booby traps. Investigators within the NSF were susceptible to heightened egos if they weren't careful about their bitter reality. The Jinrai weren't the kind of group to settle down for fair and well-executed precision. Sometimes, the path to power was designed only to let the brutish to pass through. Understanding that core skill-set had led to the tactics employed by their foes to be as unconventional as past terror organisations found across history: the likes of the Vietcong, IRA and selective groups across the East Asian coast shone through their strategies. Sometimes it was a grenade pin strung against an object of interest, igniting its fuse, or other times it was a firearm perfectly set in place. The dirtier it was, the more effective it could be. Installing fear into the NSF hindered their own effectiveness, reducing their speed and efficiency in tearing down their hideouts. The more resources that had to be employed just to investigate a single individual the better the results were for the Jinrai. Takai was only half fearful of their results, putting the trust in his augmentation to identify any anomalies or external hazards that would risk his life and objective.

	For a while, he focused on the ground floor, specifically in the kitchen. An assortment of smaller gadgets were laid around, assorted in randomised piles with no cohesion. Spent needles, flasks and bottles of alcohol littered the tables, counters and floors where poor attempts to reach the bin had been made. Takai frowned upon its findings, seeing Iwata's condition deteriorating from a likely unrecognisable self she had before. Sparsely spent canisters of augmentation juices were spilt in the corner of the room. Takai drew his focus away from the rusty needles and focused his PHUD onto the stains, looking at it to see what could be made of it. The seconds dragged on, giving him the freedom to move his eyes elsewhere around the room, before slowly returning to the substance before him. Taking out a tiny pipette, he sucked up a small sample of the liquid and stored it into a neat container, locked beneath his secured personnel storage system. With the kitchen finally examined, only seeing the aftermath of a drunken night and needle-injecting party, Takai made his way towards the next door, where the stairs that would lead upstairs lay hidden behind an assortment of empty cardboard boxes. He sighed, taking a second to adjust himself and stretch. The house itself smelt like vile vomit, shit and excrement shoved together in one pile. Her decency wasn't obviously lessened to defecation on her own kitchen floor, but it didn't stop the house from smelling just like it. All in all, it was saddening seeing a once close friend and mentor-like figure of his own to be reduced to the common downtrodden washout that he used to deal with in his earliest policing days. If anyone from the outside could've guessed, it looked like the den of a trafficker after tussling with an attempted escapee.

	Standing in the kitchen, in the silence of his own investigation, Takai began to think more about what Kaz had said in the car. She rather politely, though darkened in her own tone, shot down his initial wish to have served overseas. It changed a person, it changed everyone who did it. Her stories of 'peacekeeping' weren't too dissimilar to the formation of the NSF. Riots of the political chaos that ensued above everyone's control scarred many and caused universal unrest across the nation, resulting in clashes between the Agencies and Revolutionaries across the nation. Many of those who rose up in the early days were likely in the ranks of the Jinrai now, explaining their Privatised Army size and stature. Kaz's mentioning of the child being threatened with killing their father wasn't something he hadn't seen. Brute force was one of many key doctrines into securing obedience. He'd seen officers of the supposed law do everything just the same, and the videos of Jinrai operatives ransoming officers or families of the operatives within the NSF weren't uncommon in the earliest months. Ultimately, neither serving on the homeland or abroad would've done anyone any good. Takai was a changed man from the very beginning, and there was nothing he could truly do about it. Sighing, he filed himself into the corner of the room, sighing heavily despite the camera feed still being active. Muttering to himself, he felt the need to call in something just to hear Kaz's voice. His thoughts weren't the best accomplice within the darkened room of a former comrade.

	Just as he went to activate the PTT on his radio, a quick burst of information quickly caught him off guard. Kaz called it in: the target had arrived? Shit. Takai stood for a second, unsure of how to react and contemplating whether or not to call a confirmation in from her, but sure enough a second callout came through. Statements of Iwata arriving were succeeded by a supposed group under her command. Armed. Dangerous. An ambush? Shit. Just as the call came through, a squeal of tires could be heard in the distance, and the door swung up immediately to the sound of rushing footsteps. Takai dropped his hand and reached for his holster, hoping to draw his handgun as quickly as possible. Halfway through the motion, a shotgun blast shattered through the doorway to the kitchen, smashing the glasses and splintering the table quickly. Takai hugged the wall, holding his breath as he held the trigger carefully, waiting for the first body to move through. A second shot rang out, ensuring that Takai wasn't hiding behind the table in the first place. The second pump of its action reminded Takai that he didn't want to move out into the open just then. And to the least of his expectancy, he heard a voice ring down the corridor.[/color]

[color=8882be][b]"Give it up, you bastard!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]The ever familiar voice rang out with a light croak, followed by yet another shotgun blast, this time to the slight right of the room. The cabinets were torn from piece to piece, sending glass, wooden splinters and shards splashed around the room like the fragmentation of a hand grenade. Takai covered his head with his free arm, trying his hardest to shield himself from any potential damage, and as he did, he successfully anticipated the barrel of the shotgun to poke around the corner. From his perspective, the door frame was no longer empty, the barrel of the shotgun pointing through enough for Takai to make his move. Taking a quick breath, he lunged forward, his free hand at the ready, as he wrapped his fingers around the receiver of the weapon and forced it aside, causing the recipient to panic fire another shot just barely past Takai's body. Once he pushed the barrel, Takai slammed his handgun around the side of Iwata's head, causing her to recall. She staggered against the wall, before retaliating herself with a tight struggle.

	Striking Takai across the body, she curled the fist dedicated to priming the action of her firearm and shed aggression down onto her attacker. The struggle for the powerful buckshot blaster had begun, leaving the two exchanging desperate strikes against one another. Despite having the intentions to disarm her and gain the advantage, Takai's strengths began to level out to hers as she grabbed his other free hand, attempting to force his own pistol against his skull. A sudden shove with his leg separated the two, leaving them in yet another standoff. Takai pushed himself back against another wall, giving himself the space to aim and fire his handgun a few times as she fled backwards in anger. Clearly, her training hadn't fallen a day behind, with her actions being swift and sharp. Each jab she'd made against Takai hurt and he could feel it. As he emptied the third bullet in his handgun, he leaned back to compose himself. A second later, the following blast of the shotgun pushed him away. Her advance was underway once more. Quickly, she moved forwards, continuously letting off shot after shot to cover her charge into the kitchen. Her speed was almost unparalleled in the head of the moment, sliding into the room to avoid Takai's second attempt at disarming her upon entry. Both Takai and Iwata tried to quickly fire off another shot, just barely missing each other again. The direct contact between the two forced an uncertainty in their actions, giving them less time to act upon accuracy and more on the will to survive. Iwata kicked her legs off of the broken, fallen table and charged at Takai again, quickly throwing the now empty shotgun aside and drawing a shortened blade. The steel-tipped weapon lunged towards Takai, forcing him to take agility over power. Once again, he escaped her powerful grasp of death and attempted to create distance, preparing yet another shot of his own only to be intercepted half a second later. Her speed and finesse warped his focus, causing his breath to fall short with a stable attention span. It had become a game of cat and mouse, Iwata using her advantage of fear and speed to quickly deal swings at her foe. Still unaware of who she was fighting, she complimented her ignorance with a lack of mercy. Every swing was accompanied with a cry of aggression, the true warrior's spirit unleashing itself upon what seemed to be a faceless NSF operative.

	The very tip of the blade scraped across his armoured clothing, sparking and cutting almost deep enough to bleed Takai across the forearm, forcing him to drop the handgun in his grasp. With her swing overshooting slightly, Takai quickly took the opportunity to rush forward once more, wrapping his arms around her upper-torso in order to silence her rapid, rancid attempts. As he grappled her, he continued to rush, shoving her into the last remaining cabinets in the kitchen. She cried out in pain, fully disadvantaged by her lack of armour. Finally, as a few seconds passed in the heat of the battle, Takai caught a glimpse of the Iwata he was now faced with. An unfamiliar, augmented eye, cracked face and looseness of draped clothing, [url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/bc/7d/d8/bc7dd881228bc54b5cba72bdc6e1ab09.jpg]Iwata[/url] held an unrecognisable amount of cracked fortitude since the last time they'd met face to face. A deranged ideology had encompassed her in the moment, causing the rage of her actions to flourish in their skirmish. Without hesitation, his own pause had given her the opportunity to slam her metallic skull against his headpiece, knocking him back. Iwata swung herself around, priming her leg and striking the side of Takai's head with the heel of her heavy boot. Upon the slam, Takai yelled under the pressure of its sharp pain, tearing his PHUD from his face and slashing blood across the wall. Under its stress, it had informally torn several small patches of its mounting ports built into his temples, staggering him aside and revealing a new agonised face. Iwata, bracing her blade once more, stopped as she saw the man she'd brutalised.

	For a second, the two paused. Takai was on the floor, struggling to get to his feet for a few seconds whilst the stinging on his face shattered his will to continue in the moment. Against the alcohol and blood stained tiling of the kitchen, the remains of a shattered PHUD added to the collection of broken messes layered across the room. Iwata lowered her stance and began to back up slightly, her face one of complete distress. Takai's vision felt blurred, still unstabilised by the unauthorised separation to his PHUD. Iwata looked to the left, as if to hear the commotion outside kicking off further, before she backed up more, looking and shouting at Takai as the heat sizzled into a burning aggression.[/color]

[color=8882be][b]"You...you fucking shit, Takai-san...Get out...get the fuck out!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]In her distress, she suddenly pushed past the cardboard boxes blocking the enclosed stairway. Takai, unable to get words out of his mouth, forced himself onto his feet and finally recovered his sidearm, moving towards the stairway with his submachine gun drawn and primed. Despite his poorer vision, he made it a staunch goal to quickly subdue her progressive rampancy. Upon making it to the stairs, he took half a second to aim upwards, seeing it empty and the door at the top slowly closing in the absence of her. Taking yet another deep breath, attempting to hide the magnitude of hurt holding him back, coupled with the blood trickling down his face. Moving upwards, step by step, he jogged with his automatic firearm aimed and ready to put down her, hopefully in a non-lethal fashion. Feelings of distress still held him back, confirming her aggression against the NSF almost completely from the first pull of the trigger.

	Disobeying her order for him to leave, he finally reached the top, barging through the door to see her at the other end of the room. The upstairs itself was a dusty attic, filled with several firearms and workstations for crafting contemporary ordinances to use against the NSF. He froze, feeling the realisation sanction his judgement. At the end, she looked around desperately for something other than her blade to use as a weapon. She stood, defensively and strong-willed to repel any advances he had. It'd became a standoff, him holding the judgement at the pull of a trigger. The two watched one another, staring at one another whilst the noises of the exterior commotion. Takai tightened the grip of his submachine gun, keeping it trailed on her static position. None of them said anything at first, her unsure of how to act other than against any approaches he'd made. There was little she could do in their face-off.[/color]

[color=8882be][b]"To think you were sent on this mission...Fucking pigs, you are!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]More silence subverted her expectation of a full discussion, Takai simply breathing and trying to recompose his stress. His face was one of pure magnetisation, staring at her whilst unable to unlock itself from her own gaze back at him. Every few seconds, he would slightly alter his grip of his own firearm, making sure it was firmly locked in place.[/color] [color=8882be][b]"Well go on then, Takai-san...you going to make your move?"[/b][/color]

[color=2EAC5F][b]"Just drop the weapon, Iwata-san. Slowly..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As expected, she froze and didn't act upon his orders. The two of them made clear their intentions. She wanted to stand her ground, seemingly until the end, and yet Takai didn't want to let go of the hope for a peaceful resolution.[/color] [color=2EAC5F][b]"Lower it. Now!"[/b][/color]

[color=8882be][b]"Shut up, you dog! I am not listening to the likes of your people anymore. All you do is dispose of those who were once loyal to you the day we set off."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Her shouts resonated throughout the attic, glassing the entirety of their surroundings with her fury. She rose the blade once more, backing up a few more steps towards the window behind her. Takai equally took a similar amount of steps forward, keeping his primed firearm trailed onto her every step.[/color] [color=8882be][b]"What the fuck do you even want?"[/b][/color]

[color=2EAC5F][b]"I want you to drop the weapon and come quietly, please. There's no reason we should have to resolve to fighting-"[/b][/color]

[color=8882be][b]"Spare me the fucking formality, Takai-san! You're here to kill me, or either to bring me to someone else who would."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Despite Takai barely shifting his expression, she cracked a broken smile and taunted his position. In her own head, the agenda to her justified treachery was slowly revealing itself. There was little time to explain her reasoning, simple to buy her enough time to jump the gun and make her plans go through.[/color] [color=8882be][b]"What...didn't know? When I left they were going to kill me for the knowledge I knew, just like they do to everyone! They'll do it to you if you stop licking their boots, each and every one of them. I'm protecting myself, and you're not here to grant me that."[/b][/color]

[color=2EAC5F][b]"Iwata-san, please just calm down. I'll ensure you of your safety and-"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Before he could finish, she turned and made a dash for the window. On the other side of it, another house closely kept with an adjacent window waiting for her arrival. As she ran for it, Takai took only his instinct and raised his firearm towards her body as she ran, pulling the trigger in a quick burst. A splatter of blood shot out of her shoulder as she dove through the window, smashing the glass and crashing through her target. When she did so, Takai slowly began to move forward.

	His breath drew short once more. Every boot-step me made echoed throughout the attic again. He moved towards the smashed window, increasing his speed as he heard her struggling. He felt slightly shaken once more by her seemingly painful cries of hurt. Slowly, he clambered through the open space and made the short leap into the other window, comfortably landing where Iwata had originally fallen. Stains of blood already dragged across the floor in patches. Her unsteady footsteps could be heard further down the attic, instead finally settling into a coughing and painful shriek of suffering. The attic itself was filled with smaller plywood walls, separating their lines of sight more than their previous set-piece.[/color]

[color=2EAC5F][b]"Kaz, be careful. I'm going to make the arrest."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He hadn't really reported into the already busy woman outside, knowing full well she had a package of her own to get through. Completely unaware of the happenings outside the house, he kept on task and pursued through the plywood hallways. Eventually, he came to see a single table at the end of the attic walkway. Near it, Iwata staggered towards it. Quickly, he made himself visible and yelled just loud enough for her.[/color] [color=2EAC5F][b]"Iwata-san, stop this instant! Just put your hands on your head and we'll get you medical attention."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	On her back, the blood from his successful shots drenched her back, leaking onto the floor in trickles and streams that highlighted her pain. The closer she got to the table, the more she obscured it. Takai felt more stressed and anxious about her movement, seeing her striving to make contact with the furniture. She began to reach for the table, picking up a small device in her hand. Within seconds, what it was immediately arouse fear for his life. In her hand was a detonator. In her bleeding stance, he quickly dropped the act of peace, quickly following up two more shots into her chest as she turned around to meet him.

	Iwata's body fell onto the floor, leaning against the table as the energy escaped her body. Her life was fleeting, her eyes were starting to dim. Takai cursed himself on the inside as he moved backwards, seeing her still clenching the detonator in her shivering hand. And as the life finally escaped her bloody, cold and fresh corpse, her grip on the trigger finally loosened, creating a flash before Takai's eyes.

	From the bottom floor, several packages of explosives detonated, rupturing the floor he stood on. Takai was thrown backwards, tossed across the room into the furthest wall as an encompassing flame blasted the area around them. The adjacent house to Iwata's lit up like a firework, its windows shattering and smoke blasting out of every open doorway. Only portions of the wall broke off, creating an unstable foundation whilst both of the inhabitants were thrown into chaos. When Takai hit the ground, he felt a surge of pain fill his entire body, knocking him unconscious almost immediately.[/color]

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