WELCOME TO
HAIKYUU YAKUZA AU RP 21+

Established October 4, 2020

Haikyuu Yakuza AU RP 21+ is an adults-only alternative universe roleplaying game for fans of the Haikyuu franchise. Minors are not permitted, as the content contains mature themes, including but not limited to: graphic violence, drug abuse and explicit sex. This writing community is a safe, collaborative environment for mature adults.

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WELCOME TO
HAIKYUU YAKUZA AU RP 21+

Established October 4, 2020

We are an alternate universe roleplaying server set in modern day Tokyo. Our members play aged-up, canonical Haikyuu characters as members of yakuza crime families. You must have read or watched Haikyuu in order to join our Discord server and write with us.Our server is very literate and is likely not a good fit for the very casual roleplayer. Please watch the video above and view our RP Sample to see what we expect from our members.We want to emphasize that while there is adult content in this server, the focus is on crime and impactful, overarching family plot. If you want to simply roleplay smut, this is not the server for you. You will likely find yourself writing far more fighting than fucking.We have existed long past the lifespan of most Discord RP servers. Because of this, our history and lore are extensive. Don't let that dissuade you from joining! During our rigorous submissions process, which all new members undergo, we help you build your character and fit them seamlessly into ongoing storylines. Our longevity should reassure you that this server is stable; we are not going anywhere and we want to recruit other long-term members.This was the first roleplay experience for many of our members. We attract a lot of fanfic authors, because roleplaying here is more like writing collaborative fanfic than the type of roleplay you might experience in other Discord servers or on other platforms. If you think this sounds interesting but you have never roleplayed before, don't worry — we can teach you!The video below was inspired by a storyline written by several members. Our server also contains a vibrant community of artists, and is really just an overall happy place for creatives to collaborate on beautiful things together.

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HAIKYUU YAKUZA AU RP 21+
CHARACTER SEARCH

Here you will find a list of all the player characters on the server. Our primary purpose is to function as a roleplay server, not a social server. We do not permit observers or people who just want to interact out-of-character. Please ensure there is a character available that you will be happy roleplaying.

Important Things to Know:
- Original characters are not permitted.
- Some canon characters (such as Ukai Keishin) are unavailable, because they are used as NPCs for storyline purposes.
- Canonical Inarizaki and Karasuno members must stay in their families.
- Refugees may be embedded in the family of your choice.

Select a character with our Super Cool Search Bar Feature™:Begin typing the name of the character you are interested in playing.
- The search does not recognize accented characters. Instead of searching for Tendō or Tendou, search for Tendo.You will get one of the following messages as you type:
- Available — The character you want is available!
- Unavailable — The character is playable, but taken already.
- Multiple Matches — You typed in a name that belongs to more than one character (such as Kazuma — there's Bobata and Numai).
- Not Found — The character is either not an option, or you typed the name in wrong.

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SAMPLE ROLEPLAY

AZUMANE ASAHIAsahi immediately knows he won’t be obeying Tadashi’s order. He knows he won’t be restraining Kei or preventing him from leaving headquarters. He makes a beeline for the armory, somehow knowing that’s where he’d find Kei. And if Asahi is right, well...Asahi is obedient. Asahi is loyal. Asahi follows directions.Asahi also craves murder. He craves death and destruction and the tearing of flesh in a hail of bullets. He craves the look he sees in a person’s eyes when their life is snuffed out. It’s an insatiable need that propels him through the underground passages, spiraling down, down a path he knows so well. The promise of gunfire calls him. The sweet siren song of violence and brutality rings in his ears, and he goes in the direction of the sound.Monster.For once, Asahi agrees.He turns a corner, leaving behind the sadness and anxiety and grief. He keeps the rage, knowing he’ll need it. It burns through what remains, destroying the fear and self-preservation as it lights his limbs on fire with unbridled vengeance. Everything else is left behind, scattered on the floor with the shards of his glass heart. He’ll pick up the pieces later, maybe.Or maybe he won’t.He pulls his hair out of its loose bun and combs his fingers through the knots that had accumulated. His hands are steadier than he feels as he methodically ties his hair back, winding the strands tightly until he’s certain they won’t escape. The voices go silent, pacified by Asahi’s acceptance that he’s exactly the being they make him out to be. Murderous, resentful, monster.Even his mother is silent. Perhaps her voice knows too, Asahi can’t be human right now.Asahi can’t be human, because for him that would mean curling into himself and staying hidden for the next several weeks. It would mean retreating into the dark space of his mind and limiting himself to only doing the things necessary to stay alive. He can’t operate on autopilot. He has to move.Kaneshiro is dead.Asahi has accepted this. He had to, after witnessing it with his own eyes. That doesn’t mean he has to accept the people who did it are still alive.How dare they?Asahi stops, pulls out his phone. Apologizes to Haru, because monsters can love too, sometimes.How dare they?Asahi turns his phone off and shoves it deep into his pocket. His hand trembles slightly, just enough for him to take notice of it. He clenches his fist and carries on, spiraling down, down the halls.Guns are dishonorable, Asahi remembers Kei saying, imitating their hitokiri’s blunt tone. Kaneshiro cared about the way he killed. He didn’t carry guilt, but he carried the reason behind his victims’ deaths with him. I think you have to find your way of purpose and honor, maybe, Kaneshiro had told him. I will happily help you, Azumane-san.The image of his friend’s body being riddled with bullets flashes into his mind. Asahi’s stomach lurches, not for the first time since he’d watched the video.Kaneshiro had sure as fuck helped him find his purpose, although Asahi fails to see anything honorable behind what he intends to do.He pushes the door to the armory open quickly making his presence known to his oyabun. Asahi’s eyes are cold, determined, and his mouth is settled in a grim line.“Kei.”

TSUKISHIMA KEIKei is in the armory. He doesn’t remember how he got there. He doesn’t remember the walk from his office — doesn’t remember the sound of his sneakers scuffling against the stone floor. He doesn’t remember laying his hand on the biometric scanner and opening the door. All he remembers is Kaito’s eyes and the taste of his name on his lips.The body armor is first. Kei ponders for a moment. His hoodie will give him slightly more protection, but not much. And it covers his irezumi — it covers the crows flying proudly up and down both of his arms.He wants Kaneshiro Tatsuo to see who he defied.Kei pulls the hoodie off, drops it to the floor. Goosebumps spring up on his arms in the chill of the room, but he ignores them as he straps on the flak jacket. He slings his kyu-gunto, a gift from Sawamura Daisuke upon his promotion to saiko-komon, across his back. It’s a strong weapon — powerful and sturdy and sharp — but it’s not enough. Kaito had hated guns. He had refused to use them, relying only on his sword. And Kaito had died under a hail of bullets.Don’t you think it’s smart to have an advantage? Kei had asked Kaito in the early days of their burgeoning friendship, way before they’d ever considered the idea that they may fall in love.It doesn’t matter. It’s without honor to win like that, Kaito had said.I would rather live as a rat bastard than die with honor, Kei had responded.Kei slings another katana across his back, this one simple blackened steel, then reaches for the guns. He’s checking the magazine of a KC-LG-380 to see if it’s loaded when the door clicks open. Raising his head, his eyes lock on Asahi’s."Asahi," he says — acknowledges.I don’t have many friends, Kaito had said. Just you and Azumane-san.He examines the tilt of Asahi’s chin, the set of his mouth, the chill of his eyes.“If you are here to stop me, don’t bother,” Kei says quietly. “But if you’re here to join me, turn your phone off and leave it here. If we die, we can’t give them anything they could use against the family.”Without waiting for an answer, he fastens the .380 and its mate to the flak jacket, hanging low on his sides. Kei takes a moment to secure a short pair of knives to his ankles, over the cuff of his sweat pants, before reaching for the grenades. He’s never used one before, but he’s the CEO of a goddamn weapons company — he knows how they work. And he knows how they clip onto the vest, too, so that’s the next thing he does.Get better or die, Kaito had told him jokingly, once upon a time when they first started sparring. Kei had taken him seriously — Kei had trained with him, nightly, until he learned how to take punches and get stronger — Kei had grown stronger, developed more muscle, gotten better. He hopes he doesn’t have to die. He doesn’t plan on dying.He plans on ripping Tatsuo limb from limb.Asahi’s help storming the Kaneshiro estates will be a nice fucking addition.Behind them, there’s a soft sound as the door locks on its own.Tadashi, Kei thinks, with exasperation. He trades a glance with Asahi, then steps to open the door. He lays his hand upon the biometric scanner. It doesn’t budge.Tadashi, Kei thinks, with fondness. He looks at the keypad next to it, remembering.If something happens to me, Tadashi had said, his voice serious. You need my code to access the systems. Don’t write it down. You have to memorize it. Don’t forget, Kei. You have to keep it in your brain with all the other stupid bullshit you have up there. It’s—Kei remembers. His fingers are no longer shaking. They’re perfectly, beautifully steady as he types the code in. DtPKpG5P0P6334KPZp1wbtv8LN00N33v3rw, he types, and the door opens.Tadashi, Kei thinks, with the utmost love.“Let’s go,” he says to Asahi, holding the door open. “Before that fucker realizes I’ve overridden him and can bust us out of here.”

AZUMANE ASAHI“Why would I stop you?”The question is delivered in a flat, emotionless tone. Asahi drops his phone on a nearby table, taking a split second to show Kei the already dark screen. It’s a silent way of showing him—I was already with you. For what, he still isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter. Asahi just needs to do something.Asahi doesn’t know what repercussions he’ll face when they return. If they return. He’s blatantly disregarding a direct order from his superior. Briefly, he considers what he might come back to. Would Tadashi want a finger? Would he find some other way to reprimand him? Asahi doesn’t know.He isn’t sure he cares.He readies his own gear, moving quickly to tear off his baggy sweater and replace it with a vest. He exchanges his Glock for something more powerful, two of the KC-BAG-45’s he’s come to adore so much. He remembers the destruction they’d caused in the warehouse, and is more than eager to have a repeat of that decision. A rifle is thrown over his back--just in case.The soft click of the door pulls his attention. He pauses, hand hovering over a long tanto knife, until Kei inputs something into the keypad.The urgency to leave makes Asahi’s decision for him. He takes the knife, along with as many spare magazines he can handle, and makes for the door.Hand-to-hand combat isn’t Asahi’s specialty. He prefers the distance, the disconnect, that firearms allow. He prefers the instantaneous death that comes with a perfect headshot. It’s a habit he formed long, long ago, whenever his father explained the suffering they could cause their targets with a misplaced shot. He remembers being a teenager and watching an injured deer stumbling through the woods, bleeding out from a wound he’d put in its neck.You need to finish him off.That had been when Asahi had vowed to stick to headshots.Learning to fight had been a means for survival in prison, and a fallback once he’d joined the yakuza. He’d done what he needed to when it came to training, opting to rely more heavily on his firearm skills.It hadn’t been until Kaneshiro that Asahi had truly started taking it more seriously.Kaneshiro had forced him to see the beautiful brutality and intimacy that came with fighting closely with his opponents. It requires an elegance that Asahi knows he’ll never grasp, not as well as Kaneshiro had, anyway. But because of him, he’s a lot better than what he used to be.The knife he carries no longer feels like a last resort. He knows how to use it now. He’s familiar with the way it feels in his hand, almost as if it becomes an extension of his arm.You’re the only friend I’ve made thanks to a punch.Asahi is quiet as he and Kei make their way to the parking garage. He gives the row of Priuses the side-eye, everything in him vehemently refusing to ever ride in one of those again. Instead he opts for an SUV, one he knows will better accommodate both of their long limbs.He climbs into the driver’s seat, arching forward to accommodate the rifle pressing into his back. He takes his cigarettes out of his pocket while he waits for Kei to join him. As much as he desperately needs the nicotine, he decides not to fray his nerves further. Still, he presses one between his lips, practically chewing on the filter as a way to satisfy the craving.“Where am I taking us?” He murmurs, giving Kei a glance before he turns the ignition. It almost strikes him as funny, when he realizes he just armed himself to the teeth in preparation for a battle he knows nothing about.Not waiting for an answer, he starts backing out in the off chance that someone will still be able to stop them. “And…” He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “What… What do you need me to do?”What are my orders?

TSUKISHIMA KEIKaneshiro Estates, sometime after 10:00 PM, June 24, 2021Kei climbs into the SUV with Asahi, slinging the katanas on his back around to rest comfortably against his front as he settles into the passenger seat. The flak jacket, with its guns and grenades, feels foreign against his body. He’s worn one before, like the day he and Tadashi had met Kita-san and Runa, but it’s uncomfortable — bulky, stiff and a little chafing. It’s not an easy fit, and Kei muses that it’s a little like being oyabun. He’s still not used to it — doesn’t know if he ever will be.“We’re going to the Kaneshiro Estates,” Kei says, still speaking in that same low tone that he’d used back within the armory. “Over by the Old Iwabuchi Watergate — close to our island. Take a left off of 122 instead of a right, and we’ll be there within a couple of kilometers.”He’s only been there twice now, but Kei knows this territory like the back of his hand. He’s made a point to learn it, to know the streets within their turf. The Kaneshiro Estates are a symbol of wealth — lush and sprawling and green within the city — and they represent many of the things Kei has longed to tear down.And he will, tonight.“The most important thing in this world to me,” Kei says, still speaking quietly as he stares out of the window, “is this family. It’s a tool. An instrument with which I plan to enact change — to build a better world. I have sacrificed and I will sacrifice for this family. And I believe — sincerely, Asahi, with all that I am — in the tenets that guide our society.”The yakuza have our own laws, don’t we? Asahi had asked, oh so many years ago, that first time he and Kei had sat down to have a drink together — when they had sat down to examine each other, to weigh each other, to measure each other. If I were to kill the wrong person tomorrow, wouldn’t I be brought to our own form of ‘justice’?We have our own code in this thing of ours, Kei had agreed easily, and we enforce it with our own judge, jury and executioner — oyabun, kyodai and hitokiri… when you sign on, you know what you’re getting into.“Hirugami Fukurou and Kaneshiro Tatsuo broke our most important tenet,” Kei says. “You can’t ever fucking leave your family, not once you swear to them. The Kaneshiro clan defected to the Adlers, and you saw the result of Kaito refusing his father’s — and the kumicho’s — decision. We’re going to the Kaneshiro Estates tonight, Asahi, as judge and executioner — oyabun and hitokiri — and we are going to see justice done.”Kei’s golden gaze slants to the driver’s seat. He examines the lines of Asahi’s profile, weighs the gravity of his expression, measures how refuses to light up, but still indulges. He nods once, firmly. “I keep telling Tadashi we’re going to burn this institution to the ground. Their stronghold will be a good start.”~~~The grounds are quiet when they arrive. It’s not a household prepared for war, by any means, even though it prides itself on raising flawless assassins. Kei directs Asahi where to park the SUV — where his Supra had sat, mere days before — and climbs out, stretching his long legs underneath him as he rises to his full height. He glances up at the moon above, bright and full and illuminating the lawn, before turning to his weapons.“His mother is innocent in all this,” Kei says, unholstering one of the KC-LG-380s. He pulls the slide back, checking to ensure there’s a round chambered. Flicking off the safety, Kei looks over at Asahi. “I want to bring her home with us. She’s an ane-san and I’m sworn to protect her. Leave any of the women, unless they attack. Everyone else is complicit in Kaneshiro’s defection — everyone else is complicit in Kaito’s death, do you understand?”Kei nestles the gun back in its holster, but leaves it unfastened for an easy draw. He unhooks one of the grenades, instead — he pulls the pin — he holds the lever in.“I’ve never used one of these before,” he says, conversationally, before lobbing it with great accuracy at the front door.It explodes, and their fight begins.

AZUMANE ASAHIThe Kaneshiro Estates.Asahi’s lip twitches involuntarily, a reflex reaction at hearing the name. The SUV accelerates alongside his heart rate as Kei explains the why behind their sudden journey.He doesn’t understand the politics and relationships that run deep within Karasuno. He didn’t grow up in this life, and he sure as hell didn’t come from a clan of his own. He knows, vaguely, about the ties the Kaneshiro’s have with Karasuno, and the loyalty and expectations that come with those ties. He witnessed it in the way their hitokiri served the family, in the way that he’d served Kei until his final breath.And too, he understands what it means to break that loyalty, and what has to happen if someone tries to leave.“It’s the one thing we’ll… We’ll always agree on, Kei.”Asahi decides it feels good to be on this side of justice. He smiles. Despite the way his stomach clenches, despite the way he wants to immediately deny being anywhere important or skilled enough to be named hitokiri, he still smiles. It’s small and barely noticeable thanks to the way his cigarette dangles from his lips, but it’s there.He can’t grasp being hitokiri--he can’t grasp carrying such an important, revered title--but he readily embraces the role of executioner.It feels beyond good to stand next to the judge that is Tsukishima Kei. For once Asahi isn’t the one being sentenced; he isn’t the one waiting for the results of a guilty verdict. His knees aren’t shaking at a podium while he awaits his fate—he’s the court’s decree, the ruling against those who dare break the tenants that govern their world.“You know, I had a different idea o-of justice when we first met.” He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and holds it between his index and middle finger. “B-but I’ve… I’ve always stood by what we are, and what we stand for.”He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, glancing over at Kei with a somber, yet resolved expression. “If taking out the estates, or giving them all the same t-treatment they did Kaneshiro-san is w-what the judge demands then…”Asahi turns back to face the road, taking the left turn that Kei had indicated.“The executioner is ready to deliver the sentence.”~~~Tonight, Asahi knows he won’t feel any remorse for the lives he’s about to take. He takes a long look at the looming estates, wondering what facing an entire household of Kaneshiro’s will be like. The one he knew, the one who he thanked so many times for being his friend, often left him battered and bruised during their training sessions.He wonders if they’ll all have that same grace, the same intense look in their eyes as they strike.“Leave the women,” Asahi repeats. He inhales deeply. Exhales, and breathes out any remaining thoughts that don’t immediately relate to the task at hand. His mind clear, he readies the first of his KC-BAG-45s, releasing the magazine and sliding it back in out of pure habit before he releases the safety. “Everyone else is a guilty target.”His eyes follow the grenade, waiting for the explosion, the signal to move. When it happens, it’s more than what Asahi had expected it to be.A lot more.Asahi’s jaw drops in pure awe as the front entrance--or what was the front entrance--goes up in plumes of smoke and debris. It clouds the air and sends a blaze of red and orange against the night sky as it blooms, spreading its wings over the house in a clear, angry signal--The crows are here.The smoke and fumes quickly reach them, forcing Asahi to blink through the fog. He looks upward, trying to clear his vision, and sees a dismembered arm sailing in their direction. He quickly side steps it, his mind unable to fully process that a limb has just landed near his feet.Belonged to a man, he thinks, noting the defined, albeit charred forearm.“Guess you uh, know what it does now.” Asahi deapans. “Pretty sure that woke them up so…”He tilts his head towards the wreckage and charges in, trying not to cough as his lungs are filled with the aftermath of the explosion. He’s able to make out the figures now charging towards them, brandishing swords and ready to tear them down.Asahi doesn’t hesitate to open fire--remembering vaguely how much Kei dislikes the noise. That’s a later problem, he decides. He focuses on his targets, aiming at their heads and the center of their chests as much as he is able while the dust settles.For once, it’s satisfying to think of his targets as humans as the bullets tear through them.Not deer. Humans.

TSUKISHIMA KEIHoly shit, is all Kei can think as the grenade explodes with much more force than he expected, spraying jellied fire along with its shrapnel. The twisted shards of metal spray into the house and the fire clings to whatever it touches, flames licking hungrily at the shattered framework of the entryway.The adrenaline hits him then, coursing through his veins. Kei’s suddenly burning, too, hotter than the damned Kaneshiro Estates — he’s angry and he’s ready. This encounter with Kaneshiro Tatsuo is long overdue.A severed arm nearly hits him, too, and Kei’s brain thinks — better be careful, if you don’t want to take Uchida-san out on accident.“Guesso,” he replies, unholstering the KC-LG-380. “We’ll save the rest for our way out.”As figures pour out of the house, Kei carefully plants his feet and squares up, rolling his shoulders back and cupping the .380 with both hands. He relies on Asahi to take the charge here — his hitokiri is the expert marksman, the kyodai whereas Kei has only ever been a komon, relegated to paperwork and his own self-defense.I grew up hunting with my dad, Asahi had said, oh so many fucking years ago, over beers at The Crow Bar. Have you ever tried it? I think you might like it.I don’t think I would, Kei had replied. I’m not a huge fan of guns in general. They’re… loud. I can shoot okay. I just prefer not to. Blades are more my style.It’s ear-splittingly loud, the sound of the gun in his hand as Kei levels the barrel, looks through the sight and squeezes the trigger with an exhale. The bullet tears into the chest of his target, a katana-carrying man in his mid-40s or so, and Kei remembers his training: he squeezes off two more rounds, placing them in roughly the same area. His hands vibrate with each crack and Kei sets his jaw, trying not to remember.Get back! Akiya had yelled, frantically flapping his hand in Kei’s, Akiteru’s, Annika’s direction. He kept a foot braced against the door, and Kei remembers the terror, the panic in his voice — he remembers the feel of Akiteru’s clammy hand, wrapping around his — he remembers his mother’s high-pitched screams as the door burst open, as his father went down in a spray of blood.Kaito had yelled something, too, at Sugihara within the walls of Chiba Prison — something Kei couldn’t hear over the cellblock surveillance camera footage pumping over Tadashi’s monitors. But then he had smiled, and Kei remembers it so vividly, a small little thing — he remembers watching blood blooming on the front of Kaito’s kimonos, of a trickle emerging from his lips — he remembers how the mug of tea had fallen from his hand in Tadashi’s office to shatter everywhere, as Kaito had sunk to his knees.Kei still isn’t a huge fan of guns in general. He still thinks they sound too loud — his ears hurt, Asahi’s steady fire and his own shots making them ring. But Kei remembers the look on Yasui’s face when Kei attacked the Adlers with just a knife — he remembers the look on Kaito’s face as he got shot — he remembers declaring, I would rather live as a rat bastard than die with honor.He is not dying tonight.The traitorous Kaneshiro clan is.Kei advances with Asahi into the estate as smoke billows around them, as gunfire echoes through the night, as raw throats scream and bodies hit the ground. His magazine empties; he exchanges it for another from the flak jacket as Asahi continues to fire.It’s like shooting fish in a fucking barrel.Asahi leads the way into the building — always a shugosha, Kei thinks fondly — and Kei follows. Within the burning walls of the household, the smoke is thicker and the room to move is more limited. Kei holsters his gun and draws his kyu-gunto, instead. It’s a thing of beauty, heavy and ornate and sturdy — utterly suited for killing. There’s a sound behind them and Kei turns, dropping low and whipping the blade to the left. It cuts deeply into a man’s belly, before he can even swing his own katana in Kei’s direction, and it’s so fucking satisfying to feel the flesh flay open beneath him.Servants flee the halls, screaming, and they ignore them. Anyone who stands to fight is plowed down. Kei moves methodically, his body taking action almost of its own accord, his blade an extension of himself. He doesn’t look at Asahi as they advance, as they clean house, as they slaughter — in this moment, also, his hitokiri is an extension of himself. His blood thrums in his veins as their blood splashes on him, spraying forcefully each time Kei severs arteries with precision.It’s getting harder and harder to breathe through the smoke, but their work isn’t done.I will bring you home, too. I promise, ane-san, Kei had said, and he had meant it. He has to find Akina, and he has to find Tatsuo — because he has to save one and destroy the other.~~~They find them in the bedroom, far away from the ruckus — and mostly, blissfully, smoke free. Kei catches sight of their visages in the mirror as they enter the room, and he’s struck by how terrifying Asahi looks: a spectre smeared in soot and blood, his face solemn and firm.He doesn’t recognize himself.Akina is wrapped in a pale pink kimono, pressed back into the furthest corner of the room. For some reason, she's holding a katana, still sheathed, to her chest. Kei recognizes it instantly, and his heart aches to think of Kaito's mother holding his sword instead of her son because he's gone. There’s a fresh bruise ringing one eye and her lips are red — not with carmine, but with still-wet blood. It’s smeared at the corner, and there’s a little smudge on her jaw, and suddenly Kei sees everything in the same vivid color.It would be an honor if you would let me protect you, Kaito had told his mother, when he and Kei had traveled to the estates to meet her. She had shaken her head, and the offer had been dropped.Kei echoes his words.“It would be an honor if you would let me protect you, ane-san,” Kei says, twisting his hands on the grip of his kyu-gunto, settling them in place as he keeps his eyes trained on Tatsuo.Kaito’s father stands between them, his long hair tucked up in a topknot, his black kimono emphasizing the shadows under his eyes. In his hands are his own katana, which he slants in Kei’s direction.With a cant of his head, Kei communicates wordlessly to Asahi: stay back.Is he good with a sword? Kei had asked Kaito, before they had fallen in love, when Kaito had confessed his father’s maltreatment, his alcohol-fueled abuse.Not nearly as good as I am, Kaito had answered him. You would demolish him.Kaito gave praise so rarely, Kei never doubted the veracity of his claim.Tatsuo attacks first and Kei takes a moment, as he did earlier, to delicately arrange his feet on the floor. His sneakers dig into the tatami mat and he’s reminded of how it felt to fence indoors for the first time at university, to wear shoes and to ballestra lightly across the strip, the athletic soles aiding in his bounce. It feels so different than the tabi he wore when he learned kendo in Uka-sensei’s dojo.Kei sweeps his blade up, knocking Tatsuo’s out of line, then he twists his wrist to the right in a quick and effortless rotation. He brings the blade down, crosswise against Tatsuo’s body, and it’s only a quick scramble backward that prevents Kaito’s father from dying then and there. As it is, the razor-sharp tip of Kei’s kyu-gunto slices through the obi binding his kimono together. It falls open, showing a dragon irezumi on his chest that is so reminiscent of the one Kaito wore on his back that briefly, momentarily, Kei’s breath escapes him. Tatsuo uses that opportunity to dart forward, his blade tilted to sever Kei’s femoral vein. Kei twists, and the blade slices across the outside of his thigh, instead. It’s a shallow cut, because he’s fast and graceful, but it still stings, and blood still soaks into the gray of his sweatpants.He can’t get distracted — not now, not like this. Kei focuses. He blocks out everything around them — Akina’s wide eyes, the screaming from elsewhere in the house, the periodic pop of Asahi shooting someone who tries to come through the door — and he breathes.You would demolish him, Kaito had said, so Kei does.He doesn’t allow Tatsuo to attack again. Kei launches his own counteroffensive in a flurry of blows: a downward strike at Tatsuo’s left shoulder, a cut to his right obliques, a feint to his chest followed by a disengage. As Tatsuo brings his blade up to parry the fake thrust at his chest, Kei flops his wrist to the side and lunges, dragging the kyu-gunto across Tatsuo’s abdomen.Kaito’s father freezes, then, as his viscera spills to the ground at his feet. The tatami mat turns crimson beneath them. Kei twists his wrist again, turning his knuckles upwards.Try not to hit him, Kaito had said, the first time he had brought Kei home to meet the Kaneshiro clan. Kei had wanted badly, so very badly, to punch Tatsuo right in the middle of his fucking face.With a swift strong blow, driving upwards, he lops that motherfucker’s head off, instead.It’s more satisfying than a punch could ever be.

AZUMANE ASAHIAsahi, as traditional as he may be sometimes, is certainly grateful that he’s the one with the advantage of modern weaponry.The Kaneshiro Estates quickly become the site of a massacre. It’s almost painfully easy, the way that he and Kei are able to tear through the swordsmen that stand in their way. It’s easy, but it’s satisfying. It scratches the itch that had been crawling over Asahi’s skin since he’d watched the footage of Kaneshiro’s death.The blood that soaks into his hands and arms acts as a balm to the invisible hives that had formed. It’s soothing and he wants to bathe in it, until his skin is stained as red as his vision.When one magazine is spent he exchanges it for another. When that takes too long, he switches to his second KC-BAG-45. Asahi isn’t one for overkill--he’s a one and done type of guy--but the way their bodies seem to burst under the impact of .45 caliber bullets is so satisfying that he can’t resist watching it over and over.The Executioner doesn’t grant easy deaths. He makes sure his targets have time to react to the shock of having the first bullet burst in their stomachs before he aims upward to their chest, their heads. It’s messy, it’s horrifying, it’s glorious, it’s beautiful.And it’s so, so satisfying when he and Kei step through the aftermath, two pillars of haunting justice dirtying the soles of their shoes with entrails and brain matter as they plow through the estates.Asahi now understands why he’s never met mercy at the hands of the justice system. It’s far too invigorating to be on the opposite side, far too exciting to carry out the sentence that had been handed down.For Kei, for Karasuno, for Kaito, for Micchan, he would gladly tear through any guilty party.And for himself, too--Asahi would spiral down, down into the madness and rage that he’d always held safely locked away. For himself, he would allow the voices that scream monster to finally ring true.For himself, he would ignite the dormant fire in his veins and burn brighter than the orange and red flames that colored the sky.Azumane Asahi, undeserved hitokiri of Karasuno.~ ~ ~Asahi is keenly aware of the way Kei moves. Asahi may be the one leading them through the estates, but he is pushed forward by the drive of his oyabun. They clear a path, forward, upward through the smoke, silently searching for their final target.He watches--watches the way his oyabun speaks to who he can only assume to be Kaito’s mother. Asahi knows little of Kaito’s family, but the bruises and blood and the subtle shift in Kei’s expression tells him everything he cares to know.He watches--watches and shields the stage as Kei tears down the remaining stronghold that is the Kaneshiro clan. It’s near impossible to ignore the way they dance. It’s near impossible to remain an onlooker as the tides threaten to shift in the dragon’s favor.It isn’t his fight, isn’t his place to end the dance with a simple squeeze of the trigger. So he watches, stoic and with a clenched jaw as the Judge carries out his own ruling.And it’s so, so satisfying when the head of the dragon is detached and lolling on the floor beneath the Judge’s feet.~ ~ ~The halls scream with the voices of the dead.The walls that once shone in pristine beauty now reek of decay.Asahi leads Kei and Kaito’s mom through what remains of the estates, through the ichor and sea of corpses that litter the floors.It looks better this way, doesn’t it?You did this. You gladly did this.Asahi nearly chokes in the aftermath, the tendrils of sanity threatening to grip him now that their carnage is finished. Is it smoke that clouds his vision? Or is it the fog of what remains of his reason and compassion that causes his eyes to cloud over?Kaito is still dead.Wordlessly, Asahi reaches for one of the grenades Kei carries. Wordlessly, he pulls the pin and tosses it with unhindered strength at the house. He doesn’t wait for the explosion before he reaches for another, seemingly unphased by the smoke and fire that billows.He tosses the second.The estates erupt. Smoke and debris and shrapnel burst through the sky, carrying with them what remains of the Kaneshiro’s, and leaving behind the final message of the Crows.Asahi’s ears ring. Vaguely, he’s aware of Kei guiding Kaito’s mother to the car. Vaguely, he’s aware of Kei tagging the pavement.Asahi stares unseeing at the fire.Asahi smiles.

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