Tokyo,Japan-1981

He checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes,and wondered why Yamura hadn't called.After he'd done Mariko and Logan,he was supposed to check in.It was amusing that Hachiro actually thought he was going to take over as soon as they were gone.He was,in theory,but it would do him no good;without Logan in the way,the Takabes could crush the remainder of the Yashida clan,especially in the chaos and leadership vacuum sure to result from their sudden,tragic deaths.

Moto and Haruchi were watching television across the lobby,seated on the black cushioned futon that always made Dayu feel like he was on a torture rack,and Dayu noticed the screen was now showing crews fighting a raging fire somewhere.Somewhere that looked pretty damn familiar.

He got up from the table by the darkened front window,and as he studied the screen,he asked,"Is that the Marusoto docks?"

"Yeah,"Haruchi said,not even bothering to look away from the screen."A real four alarm son of a bitch;the whole thing is burning down."

"Do you think Yashida screwed us?"Moto wondered.

"And screw themselves too?"The Yashidas had a 'processing' area there,where the drugs were smuggled into the country from Hong Kong,but the Takabes had a 'plant' there as well.And as far as Dayu could tell,they were both burning.The red-orange flames were so high and intense,the dock looked like it was lit up like a sunny afternoon,the fire crew appearing as dark,scuttling insects in the shadows of those massive tongues of flame.

And it wasn't as if those places weren't unguarded;they were better protected than the national treasury.So how could anyone,paid arsonist or stupid anarchist teenager,possibly get through?

Dayu felt his stomach clench at the thought of a million and a half dollars worth of heroin burning up,being reduced to a worthless pile of ash.If his father saw this he'd blame him,and probably kill him.He hoped to god he wasn't watching the news right now.

He suddenly wondered if this was connected to why Yamura had not called.He had an assault team ready to go,to deploy at Yamura's all clear...but what if things weren't all clear?

No,that was impossible.That Russian shit could kill everything.The KGB were experts when it came to murder-you couldn't find better.

The radio on his hip crackled,and he heard Saito,the outer perimeter guard,report in a panicky voice,"Sir,we've got some nut headed our way in a speeding car-I think he's going to break through the barricade."

He pulled his radio off his belt and snapped,"So?Shoot him."

"We have,"he replied,his voice reflecting his frustration."It-oh shit!"

Dayu heard the crash,the sound of the outer gates being broken down,the squeal of brakes,with the staccato cough of automatic weapons fire in the background and random,assorted cursing."Saito,what's going on?"He shouted into the radio.By now,Haruchi and Moto were on their feet,no longer watching t.v.,and Moto had pulled his gun"Saito, report!"

There were screams in the background,hideous and painful,and the sound of gunfire started dying away little by little,and he heard a voice,so hysterical he couldn't be sure if it was Saito or not,scream,"God,what's that coming out of his hands?!"

Dayu felt almost physically sick.They were under attack,and he didn't know why,but he had a sinking feeling the 'he' the guard was referring to-not they,he;they were being attacked by a single person-was Logan.He either escaped Yamura,or he had survived.And now he was here to cut off some loose ends.

It was impossible,but it made sense.It also explained the big fire at the docks-Logan cut through the security,and torched the place.Logan should never have been able to get through the security alone,mutant or not.Had Yamura switched sides?

"Saito,"Dayu said into the radio."Anyone?Respond."

But the only thing coming over the radio was a crackle of static that could have been the sound of flames consuming something-or someone.There were thirty men on the perimeter;they couldn't have been wiped out,certainly not so fast.

At least not by anything Human...

"Go upstairs,get my father to the safe house,"he told Haruchi,then headed for the door as he changed radio frequencies,and said,"I need the team deployed now.We are under attack at base.I repeat,we are under attack."

He was a foot from the door when it seemed to explode open,and for a second he saw only a monstrous silhouette, something with broad,hunched shoulders and spikes coming out of its hands,but then he saw it was Logan,drenched in blood that was most likely not his own,his eyes hard and dead with pure,animalistic rage.

Moto started shooting,and even though Dayu saw a couple of bullets hit Logan,splattering blood and making him jerk slightly on impact,he never stopped coming.He wasn't human,but mutant didn't seem to cover him either.

Dayu knew with a cold shock that he was the devil himself.

Before he could do anything,Logan slashed him with his bloody claws (and that's what they were,he realized-claws, like an animal's),driving one so deep into his gut that he thought he felt his sharp claws punch straight through his back.As he collapsed to the hard tiled floor,he thought he heard the shooting continue,but even more loudly he heard Logan growling like an enraged tiger,and as his consciousness faded out for what he assumed was the last time,he hoped Haruchi got his father out of here.But he had a sneaking suspicion,as gunshots gave way to screams,that there could never be any escape from something as evil as Logan.

**

He wondered if this was fallout from the Mariko/Logan offensive.But how?Although their security force was loyal to them,it ended at a certain point.If Logan wasn't around to put the fear of god into them,they wouldn't give a damn.
Did that mean that asshole ninja had failed to take out Logan?A problem,but not insurmountable.And a full frontal assault on their compound was more than just pure insanity-it was sheer suicide.

He walked away from the window and went to the bar,pouring himself a large scotch.He wondered who he could get to replace Dayu if the idiot got himself killed.Just about anyone would do;even Logan had proved to be a better security chief,and he was a fucking gaijin freak.

The silence outside was almost deafening,and out of sheer curiosity,Izumo went back to the window,parted the curtains,and looked down.Ten stories below all was quiet and still,save for a small fire burning,casting a weak and flicking light over what appeared to be a battlefield filled with bodies.But he couldn't tell from here if the bodies belonged to the attackers or his security team.Bodies from a distance had a tendency to always look alike.

He then thought he heard very faint,muffled gunshots within the building itself.Shit.Dayu was an even worse security chief than he had ever given him credit for.

Silence descended again,but this time it was heavy and pregnant with menace.The fact that the shooting stopped should have been reassuring,but it was far from that.In fact,it seemed like waiting for the detonator of a bomb to go off.

Izumo shut off the lights inside his study,and by memory alone made his way to his desk,where he sat down behind it and withdrew his own gun from its drawer.Guns were useless against Logan,of course,or at least it seemed that way,but Izumo had never seen him take a good,direct head shot.He doubted anyone would recover from having the back of their skull blown out.And he was a great shot,even in the dark.

His eyes had adjusted to the dimness,and he had almost grown accustomed to the eerie silence in the building.He could have run,but he had a feeling Logan would expect that,and all he'd do was draw attention to himself.No,he'd be harder to find if he just sat still,and waited for Logan to finally track him down and walk straight into a trap.
After what seemed several interminable minutes,he thought he heard noise in the front room,and tensed,aiming the gun square at the door,right at where head level ought to be for Logan.

For what seemed like a frozen moment in time,he heard nothing but the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears, and his arms were starting to hurt from being tensed in the same position for so long;his fingers especially starting to ache.He knew it was possible it was one of the guards who survived the massacre,coming to protect him or escort him out of the building,but wouldn't the idiot think to announce himself first?

The door exploded open,and Izumo had to fire,as the man moved so fast he was a blur.He knew he had probably missed,so he kept his finger on the trigger,shooting until the gun was ripped from his hands.Almost in the same motion he was snagged by the collar of his shirt (and that's what it felt like-snagged,not grabbed) and yanked over his desk.

Logan held him up by the collar,and Izumo realized he stank of blood;the smell was overpowering and almost nauseating.In the darkness he couldn't quite make out his face,but for that he was obscurely glad.He didn't want to see the face of this animal."How many people have you killed?"Izumo asked,genuinely curious.He also wondered if the mutie bastard had anything resembling a conscience.

Logan snarled in his face,even his breath reeking of blood,and said,"Not as many as you,you motherfucking psychopath."He then threw him across the room,and Izumo hit his bookcase so hard he heard the wood crack right along with several of his bones,and he collapsed to the floor,several books cascading down on his head as the shelves completely collapsed.

Logan stalked towards him,and for a moment he just stood there,looking down at him.Izumo got the feeling he was trying to decide exactly what he should with him,which gave him a little bargaining room perhaps.If he could speak.
Right now it felt like there was a metal band around his chest,being wound tighter and tighter,and it was getting increasingly more difficult to breathe.Broken ribs,maybe a punctured lung.The freak was strong.

"You made me-"Logan began,but then stopped.It sounded like he choked on his own breath.Perhaps bullets could hurt him,at least for a little while,and Izumo had gotten a lucky shot.

But not lucky enough.Logan grabbed him by the throat and threw him back towards his desk.His back hit the edge hard enough to send an electrical shock of pain down his spine,and he once again collapsed to the floor,almost numb from the abuse."Is this how you plan to kill me?"Izumo wheezed,struggling for breath."Toss me around like a fucking chew toy?"

"Death is too good for you,"he growled in reply.Izumo had no idea what that was supposed to mean,but it didn't sound as promising as it should have.

"You brought this on yourself,"Izumo gasped,holding onto his aching side as he struggled to his feet.A sudden,sharp pain knifed through his chest,and made him stop trying to stand up.It was worse than he thought."You shouldn't have gotten involved,mutant."

He supposed he should have expected Logan to grab him by the throat and haul him violently to his feet,exacerbating the pain,especially when he slammed him back against the desk again.It would have been wiser to keep his mouth shut,but he wasn't about to let some freak think he had beaten him,even if he had the upper hand for the moment.

"You murdered her,you fucking bastard,"he ranted,bloody spittle hitting his face.Izumo winced in disgust."I never gave a shit what you fucks tried to do to me,but-"Logan seemed to hit some verbal roadblock.He wasn't a very articulate cretin,was he?All he could do seemed to be limited to the 'kill,smash,destroy' school,although admittedly he did that bit very well.

"Are you trying to bore me to death?"Izumo asked,more bravely than he felt.Surely there was back up on the way from somewhere.He just had to hold out until they arrived.

Logan made a noise somewhere between a growl and a roar,and swung him around violently,smashing him back first into the nearest wall.Stars exploded in front of his eyes as another deep shudder of pain ran through his body, and he thought he lost another couple of ribs,and maybe a vertebrae.One of Logan's hands seemed to be crushing his throat,but he wasn't strangling him,just holding him in place.For what?

It was then Logan drove his fist into the wall right beside his face.No,not his fist-something he wore on his fist. Three...spikes?Knives?But they looked to be made of ivory or bone...bone...

Holy fuck.They were coming out of his hands.Why didn't they know this freakazoid had knives in his hands?

"I want you to suffer,old man,"Logan growled,his face so close to his he almost thought he was going to bite him."So you know what I'm gonna do?I'm gonna kill you in pieces.You'll never know when I'm coming,but you can't hide from me,and you can't protect yourself.I will find you,and I will carve myself off a new trophy.I will do this as long as you have pieces left to take."

He couldn't possibly be serious.But still,Izumo felt his heart skip a beat or two,a fear induced adrenaline rush making him feel like he was about to hyperventilate,if his lungs would work that well.

"Live in fear,Takabe,"Logan snarled,and he saw his fist coming for his face,all knives pulling back into his hand save for one.

Izumo screamed as the knife/claw penetrated his left eye,although the tip was so sharp he never even felt it sever the optic nerve.All he knew was his vision went completely black,and suddenly there was a sense of void,emptiness in his eye socket as Logan withdrew his claw.

Izumo could feel the blood running down his face,and while it didn't actually hurt (anymore)he still grabbed his face as Logan let him go,and sank to the floor,screaming in horror.His eye!The mutie fucker gouged out his eye!

Logan flicked his hand away violently,and said in a low,deadly voice,"That was the first piece.See you around, Izumo."

Logan simply stalked out,leaving Izumo screaming on the floor of his study,feeling remarkably helpless for the first time in his life.

***

Santa Monica-Present Day

When Helga led him to the otherwise empty parking lot behind a closed,run down import store,he found Bob sitting on the hood of his own car,leaning back against his windshield,hands folded neatly over his stomach as he seemed to be looking up at the stars.Except with the light pollution from the street and near by buildings,no stars were visible; the moon was barely visible,a tainted yellow crescent in the far corner of the sky.

The guy who must have been Scarface was standing off to the right,as still as a statue.He was a pudgy middle aged man in a cheap brown suit,and Logan felt bitterly disappointed.He had expected more somehow.He wanted raving evil,and all he got was a mundane Japanese 'everyman'.At least Magneto wore a cape:while not evil in itself,at least it betrayed questionable judgment.

"Whoa,who's your tailor?"Bob exclaimed,giving Logan a smart ass smirk.

"Who's your hair stylist?"He shot back.With his hair plastered down to his scalp by water,his hair looked not only darker but not at all perfect.A first for Bob,as far as he knew.

"You're not really one to talk,mate,"Bob replied,continuing to give him that shit eating grin.

Logan scowled,aware he had set himself up for that,and briefly showed him his middle finger."Who is this dickwad ?"He asked,turning his gaze to Scarface.

It was easy to see where he got the nickname:three long scars,almost white from age,cut across his face diagonally, from left temple to the bottom of his right cheek,and when he blinked you could see that one scar had almost cut his left eyelid in half.The spaces between the scars and their uniformity mimicked a pattern Logan had seen many times before-his own claws.He had slashed his face with his claws.When?

Scarface stared back at him blankly,not quite seeing him at all;he was tightly under Bob's control,and probably didn't know anyone else was there.

"His name is Haido Takabe,"Bob said,sitting up,although he remained on the hood of his car."Although his original name was Dayu Takabe.After surviving Bloody Friday he assumed the pseudonym Haido and let everyone think Dayu was dead,because he was afraid if you survived you'd come after him like you threatened to do to his father."

"His father?"Logan asked.

"The big cheese crimelord,Izumo Takabe."

"I didn't kill him?"For some reason,that surprised him.

"No.You swore to kill him slowly,one piece at a time,because you wanted him to suffer.It made Izumo so crazy with paranoia that he killed himself rather than wait for you to show up again and lop off something else."

"Brutal,"Helga said,perching on the edge of the hood.She sounded approving."What'd he lop off first?"

"Took out an eye."

"I'd have gone for the dick,but an eye's good,"she replied casually,wrapping her tail around herself as if she was cold.

"You always go for the dick,"Bob teased,nudging the back of her shoulder with the toe of his boot.She looked back at him and grinned.

This was so fucking cold blooded he was appalled,but Logan was keenly aware he had done far worse than simply mutilate a man and drive him to suicide."Why didn't I kill him?"Logan asked,gesturing to Haido/Dayu.Even though the man was zoned out,a Bob zombie,Logan could no longer look him in the eyes.

"He figured it was a lucky fluke he survived.Even he admitted it was probably proof you weren't in your right mind at the time."

"I massacred two crime families.No fucking kidding I wasn't in my right mind,"Logan snapped,walking away from all of them to lean against the trunk.He no longer wanted to be here,or to hear this,and he certainly didn't want any of them to be around.

"Did you remember?"Bob asked,his voice surprisingly gentle.

Logan's stomach clenched.Bob had just confirmed his hypothesis.Bloody Friday was not the result of a gangland war; it was the result of a one man rampage.His rampage.Gods,he had killed all those people by himself in a single night.
"No,I figured it out.What else would bring the Yashidas and Takabes together except a common enemy?Me."He sighed,and hung his head in his hands.He no longer had any interest in Scarface;as far as he was concerned,he'd inflicted enough suffering in his life.

"I don't necessarily condone what you did,but I understand it,"Bob said."There was no innocents here."After a pause,he said,"Tell him what happened,Dayu."

Logan wanted to tell him to shut up,but the man only heard Bob.In a monotone,he told him how they had plotted with a member of the Yashida family named Hachiro to use a synthetic poison created by the KGB to kill both him and a woman named Mariko Yashida-his wife.They knew they had to kill Logan first to have any shot at Mariko,and they thought they had killed him;but,as Logan could have told them if they had ever bothered to ask,he didn't stay dead.The same could not be said for Mariko.

Logan didn't want to hear anymore;he didn't think he could bear to hear anymore.

"I've heard enough,stop him,"he told Bob,sick with rage.He just didn't know if it was aimed at Dayu,himself,or every stinking last one of them.They were idiots,all of them,himself included.

Maybe he was the biggest idiot of all-he thought he could have a life.That was for other people,normals,not him.But Mariko paid the price for that,not him.And even though he couldn't remember her at all,he wished she was here so he could ask her forgiveness for being such a stupid,selfish asshole,and for letting her get killed in his stead.He was so angry at himself he felt like clawing himself in the chest (not that that would do any good).

"I'm so sorry,Logan,"Bob said,and the fact that he sounded like he meant it just infuriated Logan,although he wasn't sure why.He just hated anything that smacked of pity.It was no good to anyone.

"Some things are better forgotten,"Logan muttered,rubbing his eyes.They felt sore and dry,and he had no idea why. Maybe the lack of sleep was finally catching up with him.Or it was the whole being on fire thing.

"Not Mariko,"he replied,and Logan felt his stomach twist itself into a knot again.He had no memories of her,but just hearing her name now was like a machete to the chest.There was so much he couldn't apologize for,so much he couldn't make up for.He wondered if she ever really knew how dangerous he was to know.

He was almost tempted to ask Dayu what Mariko was like,if she was happy with him (if she loved him in spite of what he was),but he couldn't.It was unlikely the man knew anyways,and what good was it now?She had died a long time ago,and it was all ancient history.And love meant nothing in war.

It was then Logan knew they weren't alone.

He smelled them first,then,as surreptitiously as possible,he scanned the area.The parking lot was sort of a nexus point of various businesses,and there were several alleys leading into and away from the parking lot.But one of his enhanced senses was sight:not only could he see great distances with great clarity,but he could see extremely well in dim to virtually non-existent light.He just hoped the eavesdropper didn't realize that.

"Bob,"he said,and indicated with his eyes alone the alley off to their left.

Bob glanced at the alley just in time for Emma to drop to her knees on the pavement and hit the ground with her hands.

Santa Monica-Present Day

Just like that the fire fizzled out,aborted before it could get properly started,and Emma looked confused,slamming her palms on the ground again like it would do any good.

She looked up in time to see Helga standing there,but before she could do much of anything,Helga had wrapped her tail around her throat and yanked her violently to her feet."Is that really all you got,sister?"Helga said derisively, yanking her towards the car.When she let her go,she sort of lobbed her towards Bob,spinning Emma like a top."You'll never last long as a one trick pony."

Emma stopped short of the car,and looked as if she might fight or run (the latter was probably the wisest option),but she did the slightest of double takes as Bob caught her too."Now come on,there's no need for you to be a rude as your boss."

"You owe Logan a shirt too,"Helga said,sitting down on the hood beside Bob.

"And a pair of pants,"Bob added.

"No,he's good without pants,"Helga replied."Actually,fuck the shirt.He doesn't need it either."

"Hey,I'm right here,"Logan pointed out.

"Don't get a swelled head about it,"Helga said,giving him one of several of her patented evil grins.At least he could say,without fear of contradiction,he had met an honest to god nymphomaniac in his lifetime.Why that wasn't more fun he had no idea.

"Who the hell are you,and what's your beef with me?"Logan asked Emma,aware he no longer existed for her.

"You heard him,"Bob said.

"I am Emma Kai Nagal,and you're my father,"she replied tonelessly.

He stared at her,wondering if the bottom had just dropped out of reality,or it just seemed that way."What?"

"You know that how?"Bob prompted,looking only half as shocked as Logan felt.

"Haido helped me trace my parents."

"Why?"Bob asked.Logan still felt like he had been sucker punched.

"I was abandoned in an orphanage in Tokyo,and adopted by Americans.There are no existing birth records for me except ones forged by the orphanage.Haido told me Logan and Mariko were my parents,and left me there because I was X factor positive."

"Bullshit!"Logan snapped.Okay,he didn't know if that was true or not,but he couldn't believe they'd be so callous.Of course,he couldn't believe he was a father either;he'd thought he knew better than to bring another freak like him into this fucked up world.

"Dayu,you heard her,"Bob said to his first zombie."You told her that,but it's not true,is it?"

"No.I don't know who her parents are.I assumed Logan was her father because she was half white and mutant,but Mariko never had a child."

Logan let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.Oh thank god he wasn't her father.Besides,while genes took all sorts of crazy turns,how exactly did a healing ability lead to touch pyrokinesis?"So you let her join your hate obsession by convincing her Logan was the father who abandoned her,"Bob continued,nodding,as if it all made sense.

"She was uncontrollable otherwise,"Dayu said.

"This is fucking sick,"Helga angrily exclaimed."Let me gut the bastard."

"Hel,"Bob replied,his voice placating and gentle.

But Helga had worked up a head of steam and wasn't about to be calmed down."First of all,hon,this fuck was instrumental in murdering Logan and his wife;I know Logan got up again,but it still counts.And then he fucked with this girl's head so he could exploit her for her mutation.You can't just let him walk away clean."Her tail snapped behind her like a whip,getting very close to Bob without ever quite touching him.It seemed almost like a vague threat.

"It's over,Hel.He's going to get out of the black market game,forget about revenge,and lead a quiet life of contemplation at a  Buddhist monastery,"Bob said,his voice still gentle and infinitely reasonable.Logan was with Helga on this,but that probably went without saying."And I can correct the damage done to Emma.No harm,no foul."

"No harm?How many people did she burn to death in Bel Air?And what about your demon friend?"Logan asked sharply.

Bob grimaced,and had the decency to look chagrined."I'm not excusing that at all.But I think there's some hope for reform here.She deserves a second chance away from this man."

"Sometimes your goody two shoes shit complicates things,"Helga told Bob,apparently resigned to what he was going to do but not happy about it at all."We can take people out and not be the bad guys.Some people ain't worth saving."

For some reason that sounded familiar to Logan,but he wasn't sure why.

"Perhaps.But these aren't the people,Hel,trust me.The revenge cycle gets broken here."

"Dayu here had no right to revenge,"she snapped impatiently."His family started this fight-Logan finished it.It was over a long time ago."

Logan wondered why it didn't feel that way.How could an incident without memory feel like such an open wound?

It was like life was trying to send him a message:never look back,you'll be sorry you did.He got that now.Perhaps it was time to stop trying to impose some semblance of order in his ravaged mind.

Maybe the Organization did him a favor by getting rid of it all.

"It ends now,"Bob told her,serene as always.

Yes,Logan was sure it did.Probably in more ways than one.

***

Tokyo,1981

Even as he hit the hard surface of the roof,barely missing the square lump of an air conditioner that rose from the surface like a tumor,he felt distant from himself,removed.The rage was draining away,but nothing was taking its place;he felt fragmented,fractured,and worst of all,the pain hadn't stopped.It had just gotten worse.

He curled up on his side,arms around his stomach,aware of almost every bullet still in his body,the metal feeling like ice inside of him,cold pellets that didn't hurt more than they felt like embedded stones,things that didn't belong.

Now,the impact and exit wounds-they fucking hurt.

Memories started coming back,in bits and pieces that resembled a puzzle on shards of broken glass.The blood was no surprise;he could smell it,taste it in his mouth,feel it on his skin.Some of the blood was his,but most of it was not.Far below,the city was alive with the screams of sirens from fire trucks and ambulances,and he wondered how many of those he was responsible for.

He almost felt sick.God,what had he done?He didn't even want to think about it...but he knew,didn't he?His anger took over;all sense,reason,and morality had gone out the window.He was no better than an animal.

It was like he imagined a black out for a drunk was like:he would remember things after the fact,as if someone else had done them,not him.But he never even had the comfort of being drunk,as his immune system fully metabolized alcohol,robbing him of even the simple joy of intoxication.

He liked to think of it almost as a second personality,but truth be told,he just couldn't control the darkness inside him at times.Sometimes he didn't even want to try.

That was why the Organization loved him,wasn't it?They were always trying to bring it out,preferring the uncontrollable side of him to the more human side,which he eventually realized although it took him to damn long, in his opinion.

He was an idiot.He had always been an idiot.

He could still remember Bloch,that fucking asshole,telling him,"You weren't built for normal society,Logan-why do ya even try?"

He was right.He didn't want to admit it-any more than he wanted to admit he could control his 'wild side' if he really wanted to-but he might as well stalk the fringes with Mystique,darting in and out but never being truly a part of it,always remaining outside looking in with great contempt and plotting to destroy it all.

Why had he come up here?Oh yes-to hide.It was his first instinct when he was badly injured and knew he'd need serious recuperation time to seek a place of safety.His first choice was always the forest-he could get lost in forests and jungles so easily,even arctic tundras;he could go where no other person ever could.But in the city he had liked to head for the roofs of buildings.People would search abandoned buildings and populated ones equally,but who searched roofs,especially of skyscrapers?Remarkably few people even considered it.

He curled up in a fetal position,closing his eyes against the pain and the sirens and the memories of what he had just done,and he realized while most of the blood he could taste in his mouth was his,he would swear he could still taste Mariko's poisoned blood,and he couldn't hold back the tears.