One of the men turned around, large

One of the men turned around, large and buff with short blond hair, a good head and half taller than Takaba. There was a wicked, cruel grin across his face, “You got a problem, kid?”
“You’re gonna end up killing him if you keep that up,” Takaba jerked his chin up at the crippled man on the ground, who was tight roping between consciousness and unconsciousness.
“This is your friend?”
“No.” By now the other three men had turned their attention from their human punching bag and focused it on Takaba. Heh. Kind of reminded him of his days in Tokyo. Being a reckless idiot.
“Listen to this kid, he’s pretty interesting, eh?” it seemed the blond was the leader of the pack. “Let’s wipe that smirk off his face, shall we?” He lunged at Takaba, aiming a punch at the stomach, but Takaba was faster. He pivoted his right foot into the snow and turned to his left a full 360 degrees. It was the adrenaline again. God, how long had it been since he’d been in this kind of situation? The clenched fist flew past him slow motion, and the rustle of fabric amplified into imaginary speakers. He wasn’t given much time to think though when the blond turned on him.
“Think that’s funny?”
Well, actually, no. He didn’t. “Um…Not really, no.”
That seemed to piss off the man even more. Takaba winced at his own mistake. Four against one. He was probably going to end up like the man on the ground himself for sticking his head into someone else’s business. And… just his luck, he’d lost his cellphone.
But, wasn’t this kind of how he’d met Asami? Sniffing around where his nose where he didn’t belong? Well, maybe being an idiot did have its advantages. But certainly not now.
You just never learn, do you, Aki?
The others were closing in on him, and at this point, he could probably run and outrun them, and… he glanced to his side again. Maybe not. His path to the main street was nearly blocked already. As a matter of fact, the short man to his left was already launching himself at Takaba. He responded by shifting to his right, where another caught him roughly by the neck, chocking him, and rammed his knees into Takaba’s side.
“You gonna learn to keep out of other’s business after this?”
Oddly enough, the pain was dull, suppressed for the duration. The blond flipped out a knife and held it at Takaba’s face. The other two had let go him now, standing at a short distance. Takaba began laughing softly, his shoulders gently shaking from trying to hold back laughter.
“Is that a yes or no?”
Takaba grinned as he looked up, his lips twisted.
“You insane or something, kid?”
“Maybe I am.” Takaba picked up his leg and kicked down at the blond’s knee, snapping the man’s joint back with a loud crack. Ouch. The knife came at him though and tore through the sleeve of his arm, ripping the fabric with and through flesh. But Takaba didn’t even notice it.
He simply lunged to his left and managed to get about four steps far when a shorter man grabbed at him. He twisted his body away, an agile swift turn possible only with his lithe, nimble form, and quickly regained his balance to make it into the street.
Run.
And run he did. That was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Running away with his tail between his legs. The way he ran from Japan, on a winter day just like this one. Except, there wasn’t any snow that night, was there? Just the cold, biting wind that he felt now as he raced down the empty streets, three men in his pursuit. His throat stung from the cold air that coursed through it with every breath he took, stripping away at the moist mucus.
Aki, you fucking idiot.
He skidded around a corner, using a sign pole to help him change directions, the momentum carrying him through the swift turn. Random memories flew before his vision, just like the shop windows that he ran past, frame by frame like an antique film, jagged and crude swerves down his memory lane.
There.
He spotted the stairwell down to a metro station up ahead. He understood now why the neighborhood was marked as “notorious”; there just weren’t any people to help you out.
Takaba jumped onto the railed and slid his way down, flying over the last few steps. The doors to the metro were still open, just about to close. He blindly lunged at the closest door and crashed inside into an empty compartment. The doors closed with a hiss and a sigh behind him, and he looked up to see the three men arriving onto the platform, cursing.
Takaba sank down against a pole. He was still in considerably good shape considering how much his physical condition had deteriorated compared to his days in Japan. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline making him do strange thing. Chases tended to do that to him.
He looked at his camera bag; somehow, it had managed to stay with him through the ruckus. The sight of it made him smile. Maybe it had been worse it; he would see.
The floor of the compartment shook in regular rhythm like his own heart beat, which had finally settled down to a steady beat. Takaba glanced at the painful buzz in his left arm where the bleeding was just barely starting to coagulate. Nothing life threatening but…
Huh. Since when did I have a cut?
The hell with it. Time. Four past eight.
Oh, Gyles…fuck…