Category: novels (Page 6 of 7)

Act Two – Chapter Six

The alleyway faded around them, the only evidence it existed being the dust on their feet and a candy wrapper that got caught in the ride. All else from the city was gone, now replaced with a long corridor. Beside them was now a large set of oak wooden doors, painted a dull black that screamed a Gothic interior decorator had had his way with the place. Beyond the open doors lay the building that was once the café.

Gone now were the walls that once housed a comfortable place to stay during lunch. Instead, to the one called Nobori, was a court chamber from Hell. The walls were all gray, the type of dreary gray set to give an impression that they were all different shades of black. In front of them were lined ten benches made from fine, polished oak, already pulled open. Looking inside, he could see from the floors to the ceiling everything in here was made from wood. The walls were covered in it, different from the decrepit plasterboard in the corridor, the mahogany finish gave it all an important-looking, almost regal design, which was then ruined by the fact that it had also been painted black.

Filed across the benches were fifty dark cloaks that looked like they contained men inside them. Their backs were turned, but screamed evil secret society that needed destroying right now before they got in the way of everything that was good in his life. None of the cloaks turned to move at their presence as they stepped through the doors. There at the front, the courtroom continued as expected, two tables on either side of a gap in the middle where people could walk in from the audience. Another table held two boxes, one black and one white, out of contrast with the rest of the room. In front of that was a large stand, stretching twice as high as himself, and on top of this, stood what he could only assume to be the judge of this courtroom. The punk’s felt his blood thin as he eyed the creature, recognising it instantly from myth. It could only have been described as-

“S-Satan?” he stuttered, seeing the devil, wrapped in a black shroud with only its red, muscular face staring ahead with six slits for eyes and horns perfect for impaling children. Looking directly into Nobori’s soul, El Diablo raised its great, muscular hoof towards them.

“Enter, oh ye of the faithless, and ye, who has never had faith to lose. Enter one and enter all.” The voice echoed three times before each syllable was uttered, and Nobori lost track after that, the voice trapped rattling inside his head. He felt a strange, unsettling urge to obey and began to step forward towards the devil.

In front of him, the moron who needed punking a short while ago burst into a sprint, more than willing to follow at least part of the prince of darkness’s request. Charging down the length of the room, he jumped over the small wooden and pounced towards the dark one, covering the twelve feet that raised the devil like a mere stepping stone.

A flash of crimson filled Nobori’s eyes, his shades powerless to the bright flare. He could only just make out the young student being thrown back just inches from the devil. He landed hard on the ground twelve feet below with various unhealthy cracking sounds spread around him, seemingly unhurt.

“Do not over presume yourself, Hunter,” the devil replied, unfazed by the guy’s actions. “Not only are demons free from your laws here, but to believe me as accessible as a mere Sirynclou is foolhardy.” Both girls ran up to the boy to check if he was okay. Feeling suddenly alone at the back, he quickly followed them.

“You okay, Sagara?” the other student asked, her eyes streaming over her boyfriend to check for injuries. The idiot was too woozey to answer, choosing to gurgle at her instead.

“Now, please take your seats, and we may begin the hearing for your crimes.”

“Hearing?” Nobori asked to anyone, now moving toward the group, doing his best not to eye any of the creatures surrounding him.

“No idea,” Sagara said. “And no care either.” Standing back up to his full height, Sagara surveyed the creature in front of him. Nobori did the same. So this really was the devil. He looked like the mysterious devil that works in the shadows type, yet was acting like the contracts and technicality type prince of darkness who was also swindling people in with god’s laws. This was kind of scary. At least it wasn’t the all powerful titan type, hulking over them with trident in one hoof and damned souls in the other. To face such a creature and live would simply be impossible. Then again, this one would be just as difficult. They should just go along with it for now.

Sagara immediately launched himself back at the judge of the dark courtroom, pulling back a fist that was now sporting a brazen gauntlet aiming straight for the devil’s face and flashing something at the monster in the process. It failed to happen, a red beam pierced the room again and threw him back onto the ground where he just lay.

He seemed to give up this time, looking at the creature with that stupid goofy grin Nobori had already seen several times.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the ninja girl, who Nobori was beginning to suspect was an actual ninja and not just some costume drama nut, asked. “You already tried that.”

“The Unholy Divine wouldn’t be here,” Sagara replied casually. “Any impersonation of him is forbidden in all realms.” Confused, Nobori and the girls turned to where the embodiment of evil was apparently choking to death. For a second the punk found himself seriously wondering if the weirdo student that earlier was going to be without wallet was now actually going to kill the Devil. A small velvet rope wrapped around Satan’s head, on the end of which was a small curved screaming dagger. On the other end of the rope were two hands, currently connected to Sagara, who was pulling it all towards him.

“Greynock,” Ninja girl muttered under her breath. “You think it’s wise to use that?”

“Of course I do. Greynock is a demon. A demon can get through another demon’s barrier easier than I can.” Sagara said as if insulted, pulling hard on the rope. The blade named Greynock returned to him, bringing with it its silky long body of rope and the hooded cowl that belonged to the Prince of Lies, the weapon seemed to have no problem going through the red barrier that had once stood between demon and crazed student, and now that same student was holding in his hands a large black robe and a very realistic mask, which Nobori found odd, considering it was a depiction of the devil

“What the fuck is that?” Nobori blurted out loudly, his mouth moving before his composure could smother it. The demasked creature hovered before them. Missing its lower completely, all it really had were arms. Even these were not complete, appearing as nothing more than bleached bone. The arms were connected, not by shoulders or collar bone, but by small, metal hooks, to a piece of balsa wood that looked like it had been ripped off a fence, broken on the creature’s left side, and with hooks protruding out the top of the humerus bones.

The only thing that really showed that this wasn’t some strange, hanging ornament would have been the angry face now glaring at them. Whatever the creature was, it was nothing more than a decapitated head with orange, scruffy hair, green, pointed ears and a mask covering its features beyond even the devil mask. This mask was simply that of a skull and looked liked it could have been bought at a store for about two hundred yen. Staring at the monster, Nobori wasn’t sure if it was trying to be terrifying or just having some kind of joke. Sagara spoke up first, looking curious, but unconcerned.

“That’s kind of disappointing too.”

“Disappointing? What were you expecting?” the girlfriend screamed at him.

“Well, I don’t know. Some kind of big supreme evil that would have been fun to fight. It being a Riddleklutz is just boring.”

“A Riddleklutz?” she asked, “What’s that?”

“Oh geez,” Ninja girl moaned. “You have been pissing off the false balance demons, haven’t you?” Sagara looked at her funny for a moment, and then squinted.

“Maybe,” he replied vaguely. “It attacked me first anyway.”

“False Balance demons don’t attack first,” she corrected him. “That’s the whole point of their belief system. Even if they are our enemies, they only openly attack in self defense or through a complicated contract system that we can usually trace.”

“Well, maybe I attacked it first then,” Sagara claimed, looking like he wasn’t sure himself. “It was gonna kill some things who spat at Natoko, so I had to. Beyond that, I don’t have an excuse.” From above, the so called Riddleklutz looked at the guests to its chambers with no expression on its plastic covered face.

“Silence,” the Riddleklutz tried to shout, although it no longer felt as dramatic as it had moments ago and the noise came out more as a muttered whisper. “Futabatei Sagara. You have taken the life of one of our agents during its mission. Now as you have disrupted the balance, so steps shall be taken to rectify this.”

“You killed somebody?” the girl Nobori guessed was called Natoko barked at Sagara angrily.

“Like I said,” he said with nothing but a grin. “I removed the demon from the planet. It was going to kill somebody.”

“That doesn’t excuse you!” the girl said harshly.

“The creatures it intended to kill had to be removed for the sake of the balance,” the creature bellowed, silencing the cute girl.

“No it didn’t,” Sagara said disdainfully. “The demon broke through several strategically placed defense systems and attacked some old people, probably to get to me.”

“That is because a few weeks previously,” the Riddleklutz answered, “the Dark Scourge in question had killed two of the younger members of society that had a dislike towards the mature and experienced.”

“So…” the girlfriend stuttered as she tried to process the corrupt data through her head. “Because it had killed two people on one side of society, it had to kill two people on the other side of society…in order to set the balance straight, right?”

“That is correct,” the demon said, as if proud of its fellow co-worker, although secretly jealous because it would have meant that the Dark Scourge would have been awarded the employee of the week contest instead of itself.

“But…wouldn’t it have been better if it hadn’t killed anyone at all?” the girlfriend asked, causing the demon in front of them to flinch slightly.

“Well… I… expect a human to say that. Especially one that has no idea about the way these things work, or about our customs or anything.”

“Ha bullshit,” Nobori shouted out, finally joining the conversation. “I’ve heard that tone of voice from hundreds of morons who think they’re smarter than me and-”

“Be quiet,” Ninja girl shouted at the younger boy unexpectedly. “Don’t say anything.”

“What the fuck, girl?” Nobori said annoyed. “I’ll say what I want to him, and you ain’t gonna stop me.”

“Please,” she asked. “Don’t say another word.”  The girl etched up close to him and whispered to the tall boy’s arm. “Though their rules aren’t the same as our rules, the Judge is excused from his own Balance’s laws when he is present in his own courtroom,” the Ninja girl began to explain in hushed whispers. “Believe me when I say it’s a lot better that you just remain quiet until we can figure a way out of this. You’re not involved, but if you go with this whole adolescent rebelliousness, you will be.”

“You think I can’t take this thing or somethin’?” Nobori called out, throwing whispers to the wind. “It’s just a piece of wood.”

The girl just stared him up and down in response, and Nobori took a few seconds to realise she was actually checking him out.

Of course she was. Any other fifteen year old might have had a problem facing a demon based on its looks alone, but he was the strongest in all the gangs of Fuugosuki. Even the yakuza boss Nakamura feared him and fell into hiding shortly after Nobori’s gang squared off against them. All he would have to do to this Riddleklutz would wrap his twenty five inch bicep round its face and squeeze!

This girl was pretty hot too; tits and ass, as expected of Americans. She was only a little older than him as well… His cheek beamed red suddenly for no reason and the other girl laughed a little and he quickly realised they were still on the old conversation.

He realised that she realised he was staring, and tried to turn it so that he thought they were still on the last conversation. “Fine,” he said, huffing, turning around to find a seat he could sit in at the defense box. In doing so, he once more became aware of the fifty or so creatures that were now facing now facing him head on.

Staring back at them, not so much in challenge as fascination, he shuddered at what he saw. It was not as if there were simply no head behind the cowls that they wore. A better way to describe it would be that there was nothing within any of the cloth scattering the courtroom. Each cloak floating on the benches by itself, with only darkness on the inside to fill them. Looking at them was like the complete opposite of gazing at the sun. Nobori could not bring himself to look away, despite feeling that his eyes were slowly cooking themselves. There had to be something within those confines, even if it was just air, or some sign of the courtroom behind the robe. Even as it began to hurt, he felt he was onto something, his mind screaming as he caught a glimpse of life.

“Oi, big guy,” a voice came from behind him, knocking him back to reality. “Stop staring at the Mass Singularities and sit down.” Nobori turned to see Ninja Girl, grabbing his arm and pulling him away to the fine court bench they had been provided. “Sagara, you too. No attacking for now.” The student nodded his head and fell back onto the table, his eyes casually drifting on some the folders he was not sitting on.

“So what’s going to happen?” Nobori asked her, feeling that one question would probably not condemn his soul to hell.

“Futabatei Sagara, please step forward,” the creature bellowed. Sagara calmly walked up to the stand that the creature indicated to. Now that he thought about it, Nobori found the boy’s calm attitude almost as unnerving as everything around him.

“The demon’s going to explain,” Ninja girl explained. “But it’s should be obvious by the thing’s name.”

“Ah I see,” Nobori said, understanding the girl. “I like riddles. Well… I mean…” Stuttering, the boy chastised himself for looking stupid and fell silent.

“There’s a bit more to it than that,” she replied, with a smile present even behind her mask.

“Futabatei Sagara,” the demon continued. “As stated, you have been charged with the death of one of the Balance’s Dark Scourges. According to our sources, you apparently ambushed the Dark Scourge during one of its missions to realign the balance as a result of a prior mission to realign the balance that was also as a result of a prior mission. The Court of the Hidden Balance has already decided you are guilty of this crime.”

“Hey that’s not fair,” the girlfriend girl shouted, defending her boyfriend with a vigorous slamming of the desk. “Doesn’t he have a right to defend himself?”

“Fair?” the Riddleklutz asked, as if confused. “This isn’t like your ‘justice’ nonsense that you have in your ‘law’ courts, young lady. We already know the truth about the entire situation. Being higher beings than you humans, we are able to obtain this information a lot quicker and a lot more reliable than your courts would be able to in any situation. The truth is always clear to us. Now, if I may continue?”

“It’s a fuckin’ demon, ain’t it?” Nobori asked. “Truth doesn’t mean fuck to it.” No one responded to this, although something was hitting his foot from under the table. The two girls were whispering to each other.

“How much do you know?” the ninja girl whispered to the girlfriend beside her. “Earlier, you acted like you knew a lot, but now…”

“I just know about it. I’ve only met a few demons before today,” the girlfriend explained in a hushed voice. “And most of those I ran from. Not everybody who knows about the InBetween Realm is like your clan, you know.”

“You have been found guilty of your crime already,” the Riddleklutz continued “However, we are aware that your reasons for killing the demon were in the interests of protecting others, even if you did not know the actions of these creatures.”

“Actions?” Sagara asked confused, as he watched on with a child’s curiosity.

“That they were to be executed for the sake of the balance,” the creature explained in a stern voice as if it were obvious. Sagara turned his head back and forth, like he was trying to figure out if this made sense to him. It took longer than the Riddleklutz was willing to wait.

“As a result of your actions, we are giving you a chance to be let off in the most reasonable way possible, as in accordance with the way of the Hidden Balance,” the creature explained.

Then, without a warning that Nobori would have appreciated, the demonic creature plucked its own head off the piece of wood it was resting on like an urn to be moved over the mantelpiece. Nobori jumped up at this, snapping back to attention as the demon placed its head facing them onto its high desk, and watched as the broken fence shard with bones attached slowly floated down to meet Sagara. On the piece of balsa wood the Riddleklutz had laid down three face down cards. As the group waited confused, the head continued talking on top of the podium.

“There are three cards. Now, chance will determine your fate here. One of the cards is the King, experienced and focused. If you pick him, you will be put in a riddle of skill. One of the cards is the Queen, intelligent and methodical, to pick her will place you in a riddle of logic. The final card is the Jack, young, but full of potential. To choose this card will place you in a riddle of strength. Now, choose.”

“The Queen of Hearts,” Sagara chimed brightly, grabbing the middle card without a second of pause.

“The Queen of Hearts,” the Riddleklutz exclaimed without emotion. “She who is the backbone of the king! She who relies on firm logic and sound reasoning, with the courage to act on that logic, even if it means taking on her own husband.” Placing the card back on the balsa wood, Sagara watched as the creature started to float backwards. “Your test, to determine your freedom, will be a riddle of logic.”

“Wait!” Ninja girl called out, standing up and leaping over the table. The Riddleklutz did so, and showed no objections as she grabbed the remaining cards off its wooden frame. It was obvious to Nobori what her thoughts were. This Sagara didn’t exactly come across as the smartest guy in the room, and a test of intelligence wouldn’t have suited him at all. If Nobori could figure that out in the short time he knew the guy, these guys must have had it on file ages ago. His eyes scanned the other cards over the girl’s shoulders. Two Jacks and Two Kings stared back at her, surrounded by hearts.

“We are not that petty, miss,” the Riddleklutz stated, from on top of the podium. “We are fair creatures, despite your clan’s wish to oppose us.”

Ninja girl titled her head down, looking defeated, and sat back with the others, the three cards still in her hands. “Then it will be a game of logic that we shall play today.”

And with a snap of its ebony fingers, the Riddleklutz caused the very room to shake, distracting them all momentarily as the foundations rocked upon themselves. Nobori looked around in bewilderment, his eyes fixing on the black void that should have been a ceiling in case it fell down upon them. Instead, the shaking seemed centralized on the large space that had opened up in the middle of the room.

It was from there where, with an oozing that would usually be heard from wet cement that hands appeared. Six large, titanic hands that were each roughly the size of a human’s upper body, each struggling to pull themselves out of the ground that had turned to mush upon itself.

Dragging along the corpse like body of the demon they belonged to, the arms slowly crawled into the room. The stone Titan looked like it only existed for war. Despite its muscular and clearly male body, the face of a beautiful woman was carved into its head, pristine features that had been carved from the clearest of diamonds, the only thing offsetting this being the collection of horns that ran round its head like a crown.

Dropping back to the floor with a crash, the sculpture drooling expression remained perfectly still, sitting with crossed chicken legs as its many arms rose into the air, hanging at different levels with all hands perfectly flat, as if they were about to hold something.

“What…” the girlfriend whispered, like she was trying to make sure the creature could not hear her speak. “What is that?”

“It is the boy’s trial,” the Riddleklutz answered calmly, as the black and white boxes popped open. The contents of each box were clearly visible, and the group could see inside each were similar looking isometric blocks that varied only in their tone. The blocks in the first box were black and were it not for the chest itself being pure white they would have been impossible to see. The blocks in the other box were the opposite: White, with a black container. “This is the Ivoryhead.”

“The rules of this trial are simple,” the Riddleklutz began. “The game itself is not. As we each claim to be proponents of the Balance, so this games seeks to prove that in each of us. The aim of the trial is to make the arms line up with each other so they are level. Each turn you may place four of the weighted blocks of your choice onto any hand. We will each go in turn, and may not interfere with the other when it is their turn. The demon itself will inform us when a winner has been decided.”

“Like that’s fair!” Nobori shouted. “That demon your fuckin’ lackey. How do we know that it won’t just screw it up for the shitface here and let you win in your first turn?” The Riddleklutz turned to the bulky teenager with a rush of the neck that may have suggested alarm, but it seemed to quickly calm down from this affront.

“Shitface?”

“It’ll be fine,” the Ninja girl stated. “The mind of the Ivoryhead is dead. When that happens, it can only follow simple instructions. It won’t be able to cheat for the demon without being exceptionally obvious.”

 

“How horrible…” the girlfriend muttered, looking like she was feeling sorry for the creature who sat there, its eyes wide open as if it were watching them all and listening intently. And yet, as its expression continued to remain frozen, it became clear that what the Riddleklutz was saying was true.

“It’s not that bad,” Ninja girl mumbled to the other. “There wasn’t much of a difference anyway, between this state and the state it was in before. Ivoryheads tend to be very stupid creatures anyway. They’ve got extremely fragile necks that barely allowed the creature to inhale the sulphur needed to ignite its organs. Hell, if a weight larger than a small dog were to be rested on its head, the Ivoryhead would no doubt be crushed instantly and killed, even if its arms look like they were used to turn elephants into putty.”

“You think that makes it okay,” the girlfriend said to her, sounding disgusted. “Even if it was dumb, at least it had the intelligence that it possessed. That’s like saying it’s okay to rip the brain out of a dog. How would you like it if…”

“I have no time to explain the difference in living rights between dogs and demons,” replied the Ninja girl, her deadpan tone rebuffing all further argument.

“So all I have to do is place the right blocks on the right hands?” Sagara said, sliding off the desk and grabbing the chair he was supposed to sit on, before wandering up to the creature with a curious look in his eyes.

“…Yes,” the Riddleklutz said, after a moment of pause. “We suppose it is that simple. We assure you that there is a pattern to them. As for winning on the first turn. Let us tell you now that that is impossible. It is only possible to win on the eighth turn at the earliest, and that partially depends on the moves your opponent makes on their turn.”

“In that case, I’ll start.” And straight away he moved up to the box of black blocks and began fishing around. The blocks, for their size, looked a lot heavier than it would have been thought, and the ninja had to drop the third block he chose back in the box merely to carry the first two over to the Ivoryhead. Dropping them on the floor, he stopped to consider the large arms, and eventually chose the highest one, picking up the bigger of the two blocks and dropping it on the one entitled Negotiator.

It fell quickly, yet stopped a mere two feet down as if something was weighing it down on the other end. Looking, the others saw that the arms entitled Judge and Enforcer had lifted up slightly, where the Recorder arm had also dropped.

“What?” Nobori exclaimed. “Why did that one also drop?”

“Stay alert,” Ninja girl said next to him. “These aren’t scales. The arms move in a certain way, but not in a way that the laws of physics would be happy with.”

Ignoring them, Sagara moved for the second block, also placing it on the negotiator arm. Although smaller, this block, which looked a little blacker than the previous one, caused the arm to drop further than the second one had, so that now the arm well under its shoulder. Stepping off the chair, Sagara moved round to the box again, picking up another two and dropping them on the Judge arm, one at a time. Considering its high position, it looked right for the blocks to be placed there, as that much weight would level off both this arm and this Negotiator arm it was connected to.

With a tight exhale of air, the creature let the Judge arm slip, but the Negotiator arm did not move at all. Instead the Administrator arm lifted a clear three feet, while the Recorder and the Enforcer dropped, the Recorder further than the Enforcer. Reacting a bit too quickly, Sagara tossed the final block onto the Administrator hand as it rose, but did little to stop its movements, even as the Recorder hand lifted again, the Intelligence doing the opposite.

Although the others, even the Riddleklutz, watched like a captivated audience, Nobori leaned forward, trying his best to keep up with what was going on.

“Are the names on the arms important or something?” he asked anyone willing to answer.

“They correspond to the six primary members of the balance,” Ninja girl told him. “In both our Balance and the False Balance, these are the six roles that have existed since the beginning of both groups. The Enforcer. The Negotiator. The Judge. The Administrator. The Intelligence and the Recorder. Each handles a different yet important aspect of the Balance. I… probably shouldn’t tell you anymore.” She looked away, appearing mildly embarrassed to herself. “I don’t know what they have to do with the game though. I’m guessing it’s just symbolic.”

“It is our turn,” the Riddleklutz stated, hovering down to the black box and choosing two items. “Take in note that we can now only win in thirteen turns.” Next it moved over to the black box and picked out two white items. With a clear air of method, the demon hovered over to the Enforcer block and dropped the two black objects. The Enforcer fell until it was but a foot from the ground and stayed there, wobbling slightly. After this, the silent Riddleklutz moved over to the hand with Judge marked on it in crimson and placed its first white object.

To the astonishment of all around, the arm lifted itself into the air by half a foot, as if it were so light that its weight descended into a negative number. The group looked on amazed, as the Enforcer dropped down even further. It would have almost touched the ground had the Riddleklutz then not put the its final marble white block onto the lowest hand, causing it to rise majestically, until it was now level with its own shoulder. The Judge Hand did the same.

“What?” It was Ninja girl’s turn to be shocked now.

“The white blocks make the arms go up,” Nobori said. “And there are probably different levels of weight on them too. If that’s the case, we need to learn how the arms work.”

“The demon said there was a pattern, even though there didn’t look like one.”

“Yeah. Each arm probably moves other arms in certain increments, but it doesn’t work vice versa. This is more a computer program than it is a pair of scales, but I’d have to solve it like a rubix cube, set things up on all sides so everything falls into place.” Folding his arms and looking unnaturally thoughtful for a moment, the boy growled. “Could do with a piece of paper. That way I could jot it all down.”

“Do you honestly reckon you could solve it?” Ninja girl asked him seriously.

“Of course,” Nobori announced, looking smug in himself. “I’m a master of puzzle games. Even at school I had all the math nerds following me round to-“ He didn’t get chance to finish his sentence. Ninja Girl had stood up between them, and now stared deeply at the boy, her eyes meeting level with his, even though he was sitting down.

“I am not skilled in mathematical calculations or long term logic puzzle solving or whatever this stuff is. Sagara doesn’t stand a chance. Now, not being macho, not pretending to be smart to impress and barring whatever urges make you think you have to put a profanity in every sentence…” She stopped herself. “Do you honestly reckon you can figure this out before that creature beats us.” Under her gaze, the boy faltered slightly, his arms coming loose from their fold, before stiffening up again.

“I’m not stupid. I can solve this. Though I’m guessing it knows what they all do, so it has an unfair advantage.”

“That sounds an awful lot like an adolescent excuse.”

“No, it’s…” Damn, this girl was probing. “But we have no time limit, right? As long as I’ve got time in between moves, I can figure out the shortest pattern. I can definitely solve it…and I’m not just saying that for pride. Well, I am, but it’s because I can.”

“Fine,” she said, appearing convinced. “Then use me.”

“What?” Gladly!

“I can go into Trance mode and blindly memorize anything I see, hear, feel, smell and taste. It’s mainly for my illusions, but I can use it here as well. If we work together, we should be able to determine a pattern.”

“Are you sure,” Nobori replied. “I know you’re a ‘ninja’ and everything but…” He felt like making quote marks with his fingers.

“Trust me, just as I’m trusting you.” She sat back down

“Looks like we’re both being a little blind at this point. Then we need your friend to try out roughly similar blocks on each arm, then we can…”

Standing by the arm of the Enforcer, Nobori watched as Sagara went ahead and finished placing the fourth block of his second go, having wasted no time in shoving them on as quick as possible.

“It is our turn,” the Riddleklutz said as Nobori’s heart sank.

***

 

“You gonna find him anytime soon?” Sarah moaned to the girl next to her, the ditzy freak currently confusing every nearby bystander, sniffing around the pavements on her hands and like she were a dog. “Although why I’m letting some dog brain walk me around, I don’t know.”

Aki muttered something incomprehensible, sniffing some chewing gum that had been squashed into the pavement.

“Find anything?” Sarah asked, not quite believing that she was allowing herself to go through with this.

“No,” the African girl breathed. “But…hhhhmmmm.” She stared hard in the direction of the chewing gum, as if she did it long enough it would crack and tell her everything. Sarah sighed as loud as she possibly could, futilely hoping it would make the moron in front of her go faster. Finally giving up on the stupid notion of relying on Aki’s nose, she stormed forward.

“Never mind. I’ll find him myself,” she complained walking off. “I didn’t think this would be so difficult. Whenever we try to hunt down any of the others, we normally find them within a few minutes. We’ve been searching for hours now, and there’s been no sign.”

“Where would Sagara-san go?” Sakura asked, following the youngest of the group, Aki catching up a few seconds later, the chewing gum having told her nothing.

“We’ve found his hotel. The receptionist gave us his room number, but the place was empty, and he’s not with Natoko. We got the note telling her he was with ‘some other girl’.”  She felt the note in her pocket absently. The swordgirl wouldn’t miss it if sh never knew about it.

“What other girl is there though?” Aki asked absent-mindedly from behind the others. “Sagara doesn’t know anyone here.”

“He might have met someone else from the dorm… Or it could just be someone from the hotel or the tournament that he’s met,” Sarah answered.

“Sagara-san is on a date with some girl somewhere?” Sakura asked to herself, not realising what she was saying.

“That’s it,” Sarah said, slamming her fist on her hand. “That idiot’s probably met some girl who’s trying to take advantage of him. If so, he’ll be at a dating type place, like a restaurant or at the movies. He probably hasn’t gone far from the hotel either and…”

“Let’s go to the arcade,” Aki said to herself as they walked past one. “I’m bored.”

“That’s it,” Sarah exclaimed loudly. “That’s exactly where they would go.”

“Is the arcade supposed to be a good place for a date?” Sakura asked quizzically.

“Think about it, girl,” Sarah began to tell her. “Boss’s never played video games before coming here. Since he doesn’t go to school here or do any real work except his ninja things, he’s had a lot of spare time. He’s normally been filling up that time watching cartoons and playing video games with me. He’ll probably want to do it more. The arcade will be the most bestest place he would be at the moment. He wouldn’t be able to stand the movies, nor would he be able to afford a romantic meal. It’s either this or a boat ride.”

Sakura mumbled, the bewilderment on her face obvious to all but her traveling companions. “A-Aren’t you assuming too much here?”

“Well, Boss always taught me to ‘gain information on everybody so I can use it at later times, either for or against them,’” Sarah commented, looking as proud of herself as someone who had won a sword fight with a rocket launcher.

“Seems to me you know a bit too much about the boy,” Aki said, eating yet another magic banana. It was her fifth since arriving in Fuugosuki, and the bag she was holding did not seem to be getting any lighter.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Sarah shouted at the other girl, swiping the stupid girl’s banana out of her hand in anger.

“That you have a crush on your cousin,” Aki said wondering where her banana had gone and ignoring the look of dismay that had etched itself on the younger girl’s face.

“That’s…that’s…” Sarah mumbled, her voice becoming a series of dots used to denote silent disbelief.

“So, we go look in here then?”

“Wha…I…I guess so,” Sarah said, looking up at the sign and trying to ignore what had just been said. “We’ll eliminate the arcades one by one. I pretty much own all of them anyway.” The three small children walked past the café and next door to the Dance Dance Arcade, immediately overcome by flashing lights that threatened to engulf their souls.

***

“We can now win in fifteen turns”

Five more turns had passed, and somewhere along the line, the number of turns in which the weird freaky demon claimed it could win had increased in their favour. Nobori knew he had to solve this. Not just because he wanted to live, but because he said he could. The last thing he wanted was to look stupid. He’d have died before then.

The moron playing the game had eventually followed orders by the fourth turn, going off on his own line of thought, something which could be translated as randomly guessing, though to even use the word guess was a bit much in Nobori’s opinion, until he decided he wasn’t getting anywhere and passed it over to the others.

Nobori wasn’t having much luck either.

It did seem to be random.

The moron had placed different sized black blocks onto the Negotiator’s hand four times now, and it was beginning to look like it couldn’t cope with the strain. Regardless, the demon’s hand had moved drastically when it had come to a smaller block, but less when it had come to a larger block. Just when he had figured they were playing an opposites game, a smaller block had dropped the hand by the same amount as the large block had.

Did the pattern change each turn. Was there a pattern to how the pattern changed? The other arms weren’t faring too well either, and showed an apparent unpredictability to their actions- something which suggested they weren’t linked but at the same time were.

“Get a small black block,” he said slowly, doubting himself as he barked the order. “Put it on theeeee…Recorder Arm.”

“The Recorder Arm, currently at forty centimeters, is connected to the Enforcer, twenty nine centimeters, and Judge  Arms, one hundred and thirty two centimeters. They will go up by ten centimeters and seventeen centimeters respectively while it goes down but three centimeters.” the Ninja girl next to him muttered in one breath. She was seriously freaking him out now, staring at the demon in front of them ever since she said to trust her. Her eyes were no longer blinking. He wanted to wave his hand in front of her, only thinking better of it in case she exploded or something. “A small black block will bring the Recorder arm, currently at forty centimeters, down by seven centimeters.”

The Enforcer hand was nearly touching the bottom, due to the seven black weights which were now lying on top of it. This action would make both arms go up, but the Enforcer shouldn’t budge all that much due to the weight. The ninja strode over to the box, and pulled out a pyramid shape, quickly tossing it onto the hand suggested. It creaked slowly down due to the weight, but the Enforcer and Judge rose easily in tandem, each lifting a foot in the air.

“They’re not connected by weight,” he muttered to himself again, waiting fruitlessly for some reply off the girl beside him.

“Put a medium white block on the Enforcer arm,” he said, a plan developing in his mind.

“Medium white blocks are worth negative five centimeters. For every five centimeters the Enforcer, currently at thirty nine centimeters, falls, the Recorder, currently at thirty three centimeters, and the Administrator, currently at one hundred and seven centimeters, go down currently at a rate of three centimeters and four centimeters respectively.”

Sagara rushed over to the Black box and got one, not even needing to stand on the chair to put this one on. . As the chick next to him predicted, the Recorder and the Administrator’s Arms fell.

A large groan filled the room, the Ivoryhead was panting, like it had tried one rep too many at the gym.  It looked unaware of its own exhaustion. The Enforcer arm shook, bobbing up and down like the muscle was giving up. Four of the blocks fell off, the white one that had just been pout one, and three black ones.

“Hey!” Sagara exclaimed, looking as they covered the ground around him. Without asking, he kneeled down intending to put them back on.

“You have already placed two blocks this turn,” the Riddleklutz spoke. “You may only replace two of those.”

“That’s not…” Sagara started.

“It’s okay,” Nobori said, quickly stepping up, feeling exuberant. “Just put the white one back on.”

“But then won’t I waste a turn?”

“Enforcer arm is currently at twenty eight centimeters from the ground.”

“It’s okay,” Nobori said waving him arms to denote this. Feeling glad that Sagara had followed orders, he sat back down again, not wanting any interruptions. If someone spoke now he’d lose his train of thought. All the blocks weigh something, even the light ones. That was for sure now. If that was the case, there was a limit for the total number of blocks, as well as for the possibility of a trick move.

He felt calm now. Even in some demon dimension. Even with these hundreds of weird creatures behind them, ready to attack in a single moment, he felt ready to solve this. “Place a large black block on the Intelligence arm.” It only had a small black block on it. The highest block, it would be the final piece of information he needed. Standing back on the chair, the punk watched as it dropped.

“Large black blocks are worth ten centimeters. For every ten  centimeters the Intelligence Arm, currently at ninety centimeters, drops. Judge, one hundred and forty nine,  Enforcer, twenty eight, Recorder, thirty, Administrator, one hundred and three, go up all by three centimeters. Negotiator, twenty five,  drops by ten centimeters.”

She repeated it four times. Probably a part of this memorization thing she was doing. A piece of paper would have been better. A piece of paper didn’t remind him of some kind of robotic slave.

“It is our turn,” the demon said unnecessarily. It was obvious it was its turn. It didn’t have to distract him by saying so. They all watched as the Riddleklutz took its time in placing its four blocks one by one, moving all of the arms by the time it was done. For its final move, it dropped a black block onto the Negotiator hand, which quickly gave up on its weight, and had several drop off accordingly.

“We should now be able to win in ten turns,” it said, ending its turn with no thought to the blocks now scattered on the floor.

The number had changed considerably, but it didn’t matter. Ten turns would be more than enough for him to win this. It would change according to Sagara’s moves, he knew that, but it wouldn’t change that drastically. The creature could probably win it in eight more moves, give or take. He had to go on the offensive now, working with what the Riddleklutz had just given him to start lining them up.

“White. Heavy. on the Judge Arm.”

“Judge, one hundred and fifty two, will drop ten centimeters. Administrator, one hundred and six, will rise by five centimeters. Recorder, thirty three, and Enforcer, thirty one, will go down by seven and eight centimeters.”

“Black. Heavy. On the Administrator arm.”

“Administrator, one hundred and eleven, will fall by ten centimeters. Recorder, forty, will go up by one. Intelligence, eighty, down by one.”

He still had no foolproof plan.

“Black. Light. On the Administrator’s arm.”

“Administrator, one hundred and one, will fall by three centimeters. Recorder, forty one, will go up by one. Intelligence, seventy nine, down by four.”

This was good. The Intelligence arm was now down to a reasonable level. It had become the highest one of the lot after all the previous moves. Now, they would be all somewhere in the middle by the next turn. If he kept testing them one by one, and then resetting his moves if need be. It should be a matter of time before the pattern showed itself.

“We feel we should inform you now, Futabatei Sagara, that, due to your actions on this turn, we will now be able to win on our next turn.”

***

“Shit, looks like we were wrong,” Sarah grumbled, pulling herself out of the arcade with heavy feet. Sakura followed carefully behind her, knowing what the young American was like when she was tired. Aki was behind them both, playing with a toy she had won. They had been at this for hours now, but Sarah appeared to have no intention of giving up in her search for Sagara and every arcade in the area had suffered greatly for it.

“Erm, Sarah-chan?” she muttered when she finally thought it was quiet enough to do so.

“I told you not to call me that,” Sarah growled, her eyes half open and looking for a nap Sakura had disturbed. Sakura looked to the floor, afraid to ask any further. “What is it?” Sarah replied, annoyance engrained upon her words.

“D-don’t you think it’s time we should be getting back?” Sakura asked with a stutter. “It’s gotten late a-and…. Well he’s probably already back at the hotel and with everybody else.”

“No! I’ve told you this already. We’re finding him. We will not just give up and go back. It makes the whole afternoon pointless.” It had been the girl’s response for the sixth time now, and Sakura had been expecting it all the same. The only difference now was that it had started to get dark. Already the lights in the streets were on and although it wasn’t pitch black it was definitely colder. All the night time people had started to flow out as well, and getting back on the bus would be difficult.

“Now, where haven’t we tried?” Sarah asked aloud, though Sakura really knew she was talking to herself. “Or should we check back on some of the other places. We can’t expect Boss to just sit around in one place and wait for us after all. We should probably head back to the Dance Arcade place and-”

Now she wanted to go back to places they had already been? How did she expect to find him like this? No one they had spoken to had recognized Sagara in any of the places and Sarah had been very thorough in her interrogations. Sakura was feeling a little hungry too, Aki’s supply of bananas having finally ran out about an hour ago, the girl having not shared a single one of them.

Sakura knew she should say something; point out the foolishness of what they were doing. Sagara had a big day tomorrow and he would have gone back by now for sure. But she knew Sarah wouldn’t listen, that she’d just get angry again.

Shuffling to the back, Sakura jus kept walking.

“We don’t have enough to go there,” Aki said innocently, replying to something Sakura had missed.

“Well, we’ll get the nearest stop and walk.”

“We don’t have enough to get there either.”

Sarah stopped, thinking this through. “No, I mean, get as far as we can to there, not the stop just before it. It shouldn’t be that far a walk after…that.”

Aki was still shaking her head.

“What are you going on about, monkey girl? We’ll get on and ride for as long as we…”

“Aki…” Sakura interrupted slowly. “How much money do we have left?”

Aki responded by holding up the large bovine soft toy she had won. Sakura looked it in its plastic eyes and heard it moo at her electronically, before it started screaming psychotically, Aki shaking the spiked club it was holding for effect.

“Are you saying that you’re a retard, or that we have no money left?” Sarah asked back when Sakura couldn’t find the words to respond to the one they had left in charge of Gen’s wallet.

The cow cackled away at them.

“I think you’re saying it’s both, aren’t you?” Sarah continued alone. “You spent all our money winning that damn toy when you were supposed to be looking for Boss!” The outburst caught the eyes of a group of passing students, and Sakura tried to ease the conversation away from the street. She failed miserably as Sarah pushed her away with some force. “How the hell are we supposed to find Boss now if he is at the Pachinko place? It’s an hour’s walk at least!”

That wasn’t Sakura’s concern. They were roughly in the middle of the city’s business district right now. The Pachinko place Sarah was going on about was on the opposite side of the city to where the hotel was, and the hotel was probably a couple of miles away from them. It would take them hours to get back, not to mention all they could do on foot is get horribly lost. They were almost out of food too. All she had on her was some half eaten bread. She had been right in saving some for later.

A waitress from the café they were arguing next to stared out at them. Her eyes spoke to Sakura to go away.

“This is bad,” Sarah mumbled, biting her thumb. “We need some money fast.”

“We should call Otsune,” Sakura suggested. “She’d come pick us up.”

“None of us have mobile phones, dipshit,” Sarah rebuked instantly. “And unless one of us memorized her number, we can’t use a public phone, not to mention we still have no money.”

“We could ask somebody,” Aki suggested blindly.

“And how do you think that would go? I’m not begging for money from strangers.”

Sakura looked around, feeling more lost than she had ever felt since coming to Japan. Even when she could speak to people, she had no one to speak to. It looked like they were stuck with the long hike back.

“Actually, there is one thing we could do…” Sarah said, looking away from the others and into the buzzing hive of night walkers. “Hey, Sakura?” That was bad. She never addressed her by name. “Have you ever heard of Enjo Kosai?”

“I-i don’t think so,” she replied after second’s deliberation.

“Excellent. Come with me.”

With a sturdy hand, she led Sakura into the alleyway, past the dumpster and into the light of a side door. With a gentle push, she leaned Sakura against the wall and began examining her face in the light. Sakura just lay back, feeling pinks of terror dance over her face as the little girl examined her blushing cheeks. Aki just watched on, just as confused but still curious. Sarah glared harder before wiping something away on Sakura’s forehead with a lick of saliva.

“Well, it’ll have to do,” she said, appearing satisfied. “You’re fatter, but Aki’s more likely to freak people out. Plus that shyness thing is practically a fetish for you Japanese. You’ll do fine.”

Sakura stepped back at the mix of apparently positive insults. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Sarah replied unconvincingly. “Okay, now go out there and get us a man.”

“E-excuse me?” Sakura stuttered, her voice feeling very heavy all of a sudden.

“You heard me,” Sarah replied. “Go out there. Find an older looking businessman, the bigger the briefcase the better, and ask him if he wants to play with you.”

“W-why?”

“Well how else are we going to get some money? You can’t expect things for free in this world. You must earn what you desire. If you give your services away to someone for just a little hour I promise we’ll head straight back home after checking out the Pachinko place.”

“W-what do you mean services?” Sakura asked, clueless to why an older man would pay to be with her. No one ever wanted to be with her.

“Relax. Nothing bad will happen. I won’t even let him steal your first kiss. Just get him to come back here with you and then we’ll all hang out together. Businessmen love relaxing with children, and it’s the only thing we’ve got. Okay?”

“Well…” It sounded okay, though a little strange. “I guess so.”

“Nice one, girl,” Sarah said, patting her on the back. “Off you go then. Remember, the richer looking ones are more willing to give money away. So go by your instincts!”

Instincts? She didn’t exactly have those. In fact, her reactions were as slow as her Saturdays. She would just have to do it as Sarah said, and the rest would rely on-

“Ah!” she cried out, her head colliding with the forearm of a tall stranger. Looking up to find herself out of the alley, she saw a large fat man in a suit staring down at her.

“Oh excuse me,” he said, looking a little distracted. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Oh it’s…okay,” she stopped. He still wasn’t looking, instead texting into a mobile phone with a speed that surpassed Fujiko’s. “I wasn’t looking either.” But now that she was, she saw that this guy fit perfectly with what Sarah had said. A businessman. Suit and Tie. Briefcase. Even his watch sparkled a gold that couldn’t be fake.

“Well” he said, having only really paused to finish what he was doing. “Never mind. Take care.”

“Ah, please wait,” she shouted, catching his attention before he left. “D-d- do…”

“Hhhmmm, what is it?” he asked her. “Are you lost?”

“N-no. That’s… that’s not it.

“Huh? What is it then?”

She shook her head, the movements doing nothing to get the words out. What had she been thinking? She shouldn’t go up to a stranger like this. He could be anyone. All of a sudden she imagined the man rushing her into the alleyway and making sure she could never breathe again. Her voice started to stutter incomprehensibly.

“I w-was… I-I was. W-well I was wondering i-if. I was wondering if y-you wanted t-to…”

“Oh my,” the man said, now noticing her existence more clearly. “You- you’re not one of those types, are you? You’re… You’re looking to play?”

Ah, he understood. That was lucky. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Sarah was right about this. It must have been more common than she thought. Rather than speak any further, Sakura just nodded. If he knew what this was, she could just let him take the lead for the rest of it. Though she probably should get Sarah and Aki as well.

“Erm…look,” the man twisted round, looking at bystanders and cars while Sakura turned to see if the others were there. They were not. “Let’s just… go into this alley for a second.”

The man wandered in first, too fast for her to stay at his side. It felt odd but she wandered in after him anyway. He got halfway between the dumpster and the lonely light by the door of the café before he turned to face her, placing his briefcase down, his eyes beaming down at her like a concerned father.

“Now listen to me,” he said, going to extreme effort to bring his rotund body down to her level kneeling so that he arced just a little above her and grabbing her lightly by the arms, just enough so that she felt she could pull away if she wanted. “I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but it’s not smart and it’s not a good way to get any money.”

Sakura froze, her mind screaming as her teeth started to tremble. She was scared. She didn’t know why she was scared but it gripped her, slammed down and crushed her body like a wolf’s jaw. She didn’t know what she had done wrong but the man seemed pretty upset about it.

“Just how old are you?” the man asked.

“Th-thirteen.”

“Geez, and how long have you been doing this?” Doing what? Sakura asked herself. She didn’t know what she had been doing, or what she had done wrong. Sarah had just told her to ask people and…

“Hey, hey, calm down,” the man replied, his voice sounding concerned even to her terror entrenched ears. “It’s okay. I’m a-“

A clunk ended the conversation prematurely, the man falling to the side of her vision with a grunt. She gasped as he fell over his briefcase and revealed Sarah, holding a discard plank of wood behind him.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing to my friend?” she shouted, pushing the man against the wall as he flailed helplessly in front of them. As he turned to try and face her, she jumped on top of him, winding him in the stomach and holding him by the neck.

“You sick freak,” she cried out, slapping him hard against the right cheek. The man tried to utter out words, excuses probably, but Sarah heard none of it. She screamed and shouted at him, Sakura unable to hear any of it as she shrank into the corner. Trying to scramble away, the man desperately looked for help and both he and Sakura noticed people staring into the alley. Reaching for them, the man tried to push Sarah out of the way and was met with the tearing of his jacket as it ripped off him and into the mud, the small girl following behind it.

With one last stumble and jostle, the man found his legs again, pulling himself up and running out of the alleyway. They watched as he approached the outside world again, Sarah screaming and shouting all the way.

“And if you dare try and fuck around with my friend again, I’ll kill you, you hear me?” That was enough for the bystanders, who looked like they were ready to help the man, to step out of his way and let him pass by unaided. The man didn’t stop to retrieve his stuff and was lost in the crowd before Sakura could catch sight of him. In but a moment, the area fell back into calm, concerned citizens returning to their business as if nothing had happened and leaving the three girls alone.

Watching Sarah breath heavily to herself, using her knees for support, Sakura barely realised she had inched herself up by the dumpster at this point, the dirt getting all over her jacket. The ten year old girl took a few moments to calm down, before wiping the dirt off her legs and turning to face her.

“Well, that worked well,” she said, calm and composed. “Good job, hooker girl.”

“Hooker girl?” Sakura repeated.

“Well, let’s see what we got.” And with that, Sarah started to rummage through the contents of the torn suit jacket she held in her hands, quickly finding a wallet that lit her face with a smile. “Jackpot,” she said in English, sitting down to count through it.

“Wait!” Sakura said, catching the girl’s attention as she went through the notes. “All that. T-that whole thing. It was just to take his money?”

“How else were we going to get it?” Sarah asked. “You think we were just going to wait around for an hour while this guy had his way with you? This is much faster, believe me.” She went back to counting the money. Aki held tightly to her cow.

“But… but stealing’s wrong. It’s a sin and illegal and-”

“-our way home…” Sarah stopped her mid sentence. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with what we were doing. That guy was way too eager to have his way with you. He couldn’t get you in this alley fast enough and…” Sarah stopped, holding her stomach with a groan. “Whoa, headrush.”

“But I don’t think he even wanted to… to play with me. It sounded like…”

“Sarah?” Aki interrupted stepping up. Sakura stopped speaking to see Sarah holding the wall, the wallet slipping from her hands. “Sarah, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” the girl muttered. “Wow. Head rush again.”

“Sarah?” Sakura said, joining her friends. The girl’s face had quickly turned pale. “Are you…”

“What’s that?” Aki asked to anyone who could give the answer. Sakura looked up, following Aki’s eyes to behind them, her hand reaching for her crucifix as she glanced what her friend was seeing.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sarah muttered, as Sakura saw the strange swirling motion that was turning the entire wall from red bricks to a large steel fence. Like a jigsaw puzzle, the alley disintegrated around them as the lights went out, a musty smell filling their nostrils as Sarah vomited hard onto the floor.

Just as Aki went to push her away, her friend looking very concerned right before she fell unconscious, Sakura found herself thinking of God, and her own father. Was this punishment, for what they had just done? Retribution, for their act against a kind man.

If so, they probably deserved it.

Act Two – Chapter Five

“And why do I have to carry all the bags?” a weary Gen asked, stepping off of the tram and onto Fuugosuki platform, where a stampede of busy commuters ricocheted off of him in an attempt to escape the cramped carriage. Otsune never could tell exactly why there were so many people on the tram all the time no matter what the occasion. The only time it ever seemed different was rush hour, where it became customary from some to die whilst traveling home in the stampedes.

“What are you talking about, idiot?” the small blond haired girl asked him, safely avoiding the rush by ducking under the rucksack the landlord was wearing. “We’re carrying bags too.” Over Sarah’s left shoulder was a stylish black backpack. Itno doubt seemed very light from Gen’s point of view and practically empty. Before he could comment Aki jumped in front of him, nearly causing him to drop the entire load.

“Yeah look I’m helping” the African girl commented, waving a small plastic bag in front of his face. Gen could see that it clearly only contained Bananas, the bag only getting lighter before him.

“But, that’s nothing compared to– to…” He knew giving a list of three suitcases and a rucksack that was one and a half times the size of his upper body would not have any effect on the girls.  He chose silence instead.

“Bear with it Gen,” Otsune said, patting him on the backpack as firmly as she could, causing him to stoop slightly. “It’s just to the hotel and possibly up a few stairs.”

“I won’t make it out of… the station at this rate,” he said back to her, turning to see she wasn’t even listening to him.

“Want me to take that, Sakura?” Otsune asked the younger girl, who was currently carrying the only remaining suitcase, which was about half her size. Even so, the timid girl was trying her best to keep it off the ground.

“It’s okay, Otsune. You should ask Sakura if he wants you to hold something,” she replied, trying to be as helpful as possible and clearly not in on the joke.

“Yes. Please do,” mumbled Gen, his face turning a dark shade of red that implied that soon it would burst. Otsune found herself blanking him out mentally, staying a few steps ahead to walk alongside Fujiko, who seemed deep in thought for a moment.

“Hey… Otsune?” the student turned to her writer friend as she addressed her. “Do you think… what with this tournament and all, that we’re gonna see some more demons?”

“What?” the student replied. “You’re sounding serious all of a sudden.”

“Well, it’s just,” Fujiko paused for a second. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? Sagara says he’s some kind of demon hunting ninja, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, normally it’ll just sound corny and we’d assume he’s some stupid otaku fanboy, but-”

“But then we saw the demon ourselves, right?” Otsune finished the sentence for the girl. It had been on her mind as well.

Fujiko giggled uneasily. “Right.”

“What demon?” Gen asked behind them, before gravity once again demanded his attention.

“And now you’re worried that when we get to this tournament, something like that might happen again?”

“Yeah. Just a thought, you know?” Fujiko seemed embarrassed for the first time in years to her old friend, but she was thinking things along the same line.

“I don’t know if we should be worried or not.” Otsune stated.

“Huh?”

“I mean…I’d like to think that that guy would be all heroic and say something like ‘I wouldn’t bring you along if it was dangerous…’ but I still don’t know him enough. He might not really care. He certainly didn’t seem all that concerned with that water spirit. I mean, I know he helped Natoko and I guess all along he was trying to help her…but then why did he even have to fight her in the first place?”

“That’s true. If he knew she was a demon, then why not just find a way to exorcise her from Natoko anyway.”

“Yeah…” The two fell quiet as they left the station, the hustle of the street drowning out conversation while they adjusted.

“Where are we going?” a voice said from beneath a shell of bags, stopping by the front of the small park.

“Oh,” Otsune stuttered. “I don’t actually know. Where did Natoko say she was staying?”

“Ano…” Fujiko stalled. The girl had been severely drunk at the time of the phone call and it was only her miraculous recovery time that allowed Otsune to bring her along at all. “The Scarlett, was it?”

“Couldn’t have been,” Otsune said dismissively. “That place is far too expensive.”

“Are you guys going to the hotel first?” Sarah asked several steps ahead of them. “Make sure you put my stuff in my room.”

“You’re not separating from the group, Sarah-chan,” Otsune replied sternly, understanding the girl instantly. “The hotel is first. You can find Sagara later tonight.”

“No,” Sarah shouted, not caring for the girl’s feeling. “I want to find Boss as soon as possible. If we find him, we’ll probably be able to stay where he is.”

“Oh, is that it?” Fujiko slyly grinned, finding something she was able to focus on without getting worried. “I thought you rushed us out here a little too fast. Trying to make sure those two can’t get together? Quite the jealous type, aren’t we?”

“Moron,” shouted Sarah, kicking Fujiko’s leg. “I’m not jealous, I just reckon he’s an idiot if he starts going out with that girl. We have to find him as soon as possible.” The conversation was interrupted by a noise behind them. They turned to see that Gen’s legs had had enough and insist that he collapse.

“Fine, you stay with the weirdoes,” she grunted at Fujiko. “I’m gonna go find boss.” Running off in the opposite direction, she was towards the end of the park before anyone could say anything.

“I’ll go too,” Aki shouted, running after her partner in crime. Shortly following her was Sakura.

“And me,” she said weakly, dropping her suitcase with Otsune and chasing after the other two. Otsune watched them, not intending to try and find the boy in a city of millions.

“Are they gonna be all right on their own?” she said turning to the others, even though she knew there was no one there responsible enough to answer that question.

“I should be more worried for the city,” Fujiko replied sarcastically, somehow pulling a bottle of sake out of nowhere, causing her friend to attack her with rancorous eyes. “Relax girl, they’ll be fine, Aki probably has her mobile anyway. And you know what the foreign kid’s like.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said sitting down with the rest of them. “We might as well just enjoy ourselves.”

“Plus, it’ll give Tina a chance to air out as well.” From behind, Otsune heard the her friend fall down onto the grass with an exhausted slump. Otsune watched her with concern, even as she kept her distance. Whatever horrible accident Tina had had with her make up this morning hadn’t had chance to clean itself up and the girl had been sullen for the whole trip since.

“Leave her be.”

“Well, I’m sure they would smell good if they were used individually, Tina-san,” Fujiko continued to joke, getting elbowed lightly in the rib as punishment.

“Ah, please don’t call me that, Fujiko. It sounds weird,” Tina asked. But ignoring her comment, Fujiko intoxicated mouth could only continue, the effects of the sake working more as an on/off switch rather than a gradual descent into inebriation

“Later if you want,” she said with a slur. “I could help you out, show you how to do it right. If you’re looking to seduce a man, perfume should be used expertly, not twenty bottles of twenty different brands just poured over you.”

“No thank you, Fujiko. I’m not looking to seduce anyone, I just-”

“Well, talk to me when you’re ready to admit it to yourself girl,” she said, practically shouting as she interrupted the more timid girl. “Although I wonder who it could be…”

“Fujiko! Leave her,” Otsune commanded, knowing that one friend wouldn’t stand to her own defense, and the other would never even think of stopping.

“Ah, maybe it’s Otsune,” she said excitedly, pointing to the girl besides her. “You’re always so protective of her. I’m sure you two would make a wonderful couple.” Her voice turned sweet, as if she was complimenting something cute.

“You’re sick, Fujiko. And you’re seconds away from dying as well.”

***

The small café had been one of her favourite places to hang out since she first stumbled across it when in hiding from her boss years ago. The quiet bustle of elderly businessmen passing through for a quick coffee was as amusing for her as it had been for them. With only enough roof to house about twenty people, on tables and at the bar, Raiko was always looking to get a wall seat whenever she swarmed in there by herself. She didn’t recognise anybody today, except for the master of the store, but that was okay. She had someone else to talk to today.

“Whoa, slow down there, boy,” said Raiko, tucking into her own waffle slowly. “I’d prefer you to appreciate that what I’m treating you to.”

“It’s really nice,” Sagara said, the current wave of fibre stored in his cheeks. “What did you say this was again?”

“Don’t you know?” Raiko replied confused, looking around expecting to see they were drawing a crowd at his behavior, everyone politely disdaining from watching. “It’s a corn dog. They’re from your country. Not mine.”

“It’s nice whatever it is.”

“Yeah? Cheap as well. All the other places round here charge about the same amount you’d expect to pay to eat the President of the United States, but this place stays nice and cheap even during recessions. So eat as much as you want. Just eat it slowly.”

“I can probably manage that.”

Munching into the corn dog, it was gone in a matter of seconds, disappearing down the mouth of the ninja before it could scream for him to stop. Raiko waited for him to finish chewing, before ordering another one.

“So, Sagara. Tell me about yourself.”

“Huh?” Sagara mumbled back in response, a glass of apple juice blocking his limited efforts to speak coherently

“Well, I just figured if I’m going to show you round town today, you could repay me by telling me about yourself while we do. Balance things out, as it were.”

“Ah, okay.” Sagara went back to drinking.

“I’ve always been curious in meeting one of the other members of the clan. I only know Ms. Sakimoto from part time work. But I’m thinking the future Enforcer should be a lot more interesting.”

It didn’t seem to bother him that she knew everything. Had he already been told about her from Yuya? The Futabatei were supposed to be careful in talking about work related matters, but all he was doing was nibbling on the stick to get whatever remained of the dog off of it. It wasn’t ver cute of him when she thought about. She got the feeling he was the type who’d be very pretty as long as he remained quiet and motionless.

“Are you allowed to talk about it?” she asked him concerned, hoping that he wasn’t too shy about not saying anything.

“No. It should be fine,” he replied, continuing to gnaw. He took a few prolonged seconds before finally saving wood away. “I’m Sagara,” he finally said.

It took a while to get anything else out of him. At first all he seemed interested in was telling her he had brown hair and brown eyes, though they were sometimes also green. Three Corn dogs and a waffle later he wasn’t shutting up.

“And once I’m through the tournament there the whole problem with the demons. Melissa says I have to focus on both, but I don’t know where to start with the demons.”

“I know what you mean,” Raiko replied absently. “I’m supposed to be looking after some of the demons handling the bets and I just know it’s not going to work out. There’s this stupid fat locust demon that makes things you find repulsive sexy, and if he even thinks of doing something to me…” Sagara was staring forwards now, his expression unmoving. It was exactly the same as before, but Raiko found it different somehow. “What?”

“You know where the demons are?”

“You haven’t heard?

“Huh? Heard what?”

Raiko brought her hands to cover up with her mouth. What had she just said? There was no way for her to know but it should have been obvious.

“Of course. It’s your initiation, isn’t it? Oh damn.” Feeling incredible stupid, she stamped the floor under the table, looking away from him, her mouth fumbling the game. “I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to tell you. You’re supposed to find it out for yourself.”

“Well, I suppose now I have.”

“Oh, you mustn’t tell Ms. Sakimoto,” pleaded Raiko. “If she discovers that I’ve been telling you things relating to your initiation. You’re not even supposed to know she’s handling the matter in case you fail.”

“Well, it’s good to have a backup.”

“No, it’s not,” insisted Raiko. “f you know you have backup, you’ll go lax. You’ll start thinking that it’s okay because someone else can handle it if you fail. But this is all supposed to be for you, Sagara. The only reason I think Ms. Sakimoto set this up is so that you could go in and deal with it. It’s supposed to be your actions. That decides the fate of this tournament. Your decisions. Your free will. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”

Raiko realised she was panting now, her legs also standing up and her voice doing very little in keeping the secrets of the Futabatei away from everyone else in the café. She coughed to stop herself, and sat back down. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Sagara said, sounding more genuine than he should with spilled secrets. “Besides, you’re wrong.”

“I am?”

“That’s right. It’s not my choice at all. I am just to obey my mother’s commands. I must enter the tournament and root out the demons. That’s my duty, and that’s all I need to do. Other than that, it’s just waiting and finding them… though I suppose what you said just helped. I didn’t know there was betting going on. Though it doesn’t matter about what you just said, since I won’t fail.”

“I see,” she said after a few moments, coming to an misaligned understanding that she wasn’t sure of. “So you’re trapped too.”

“What’s that?” It passed her mind for a moment, that one special moment where she could reveal everything to a total stranger. But this wasn‘t a total stranger. If she had understood what he had just said. He was the one person she could never tell.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, hating the bright lighting and flowery drapes all of a sudden. This was supposed to be her hiding place, but it served a more torturous function as well when she wasn’t noticing.

“Okay,” he said, apparently unconcerned for the half glass of citrus left on the round table and her own half eaten waffle. Paying the master quickly, she stormed out the main entrance, her envoy in tow.

 

***

 

“When did that happen?”

“Excuse me?” Raiko turned round the corner, through the shortcut alley to the arcade. She had promised him the delights of pachinko, and if they got there before lunch, they’d miss the mass of lunch time goers.

“My eyes aren’t working?” he complained, rubbing them. “They been like this all day?”

“Have you got something in them?” Raiko asked back, walking in reverse to glance at the brown irises behind her. He was rather handsome when she got a close up glare of him. It made the creature inside her stir a little.

“No, that’s the problem. Well, not much of a problem I guess. It’s not like I need them today.” He carried on walking, his hands sinking back down into his pockets.

“You know, Sagara. Even for a faithless, you’re quite fu… ah!” she gasped, noticing the sudden positioning of a wall behind her. It was bouncier than the brick wall she might have expected, even as it were stiff and large. Slowly turning around, she found someone staring down at her, a huge man made entirely of muscle and leather, a red bandana wrapped around his head.

For someone so large, it was amazing she hadn’t sensed him by body presence. Raiko looked up to the face of the thirty something body builder with a caution she would reserve for bears. The man leered down at her like a giant noticing an ant for the first time, and arced slowly towards her.

“Ah, excuse me,” she got out as quickly as she could. At times like this, she figured apologising and getting away was the smartest course of action.

“Quite alright, miss,” the older man growled with a surprisingly light hearted voice. “Wasn’t your fault.”

“Ah, thank you, excuse us.”

“It was mine. You were going to bump into me no matter what you tried.”

Stay calm, she told herself, keeping an eye on the bruiser in front of her. Now that she looked, there were two others in the alleyway with them. Kids, barely teenagers from the looks of things. One was sitting on the dumpster. Both had a look of hyenas on them.

“Is there anything we can help you with?” She knew she was setting herself up. A comment like that screamed for them to reveal their ill intentions, but it was either that or let them have complete control of the field.

“Oh we just hang round here at lunch, take what we can from those wanting to use this shortcut. There’s always some old geezer more than willing to let us snag some money off of him, but I guess we can take a few kids as well.”

She had never seen them before, though she had been out of town for a while. She certainly hadn’t expected to have her tuft taken away by Yakuza wannabes though.

“But we’re older than you,” Sagara replied matter of factly. Raiko frowned. There was no way this man was younger than them. His lackeys for sure, but this wasn’t the time to be thinking such things.

“Oi, wash your mouth and show some respect, boy,” the thug continued, brushing passed her and into Sagara’s face, the two boys stepping up to show she couldn’t run away. “My friends here may be a little young, but I’ll bitch your ass if you start acting like you’re older than me.”

“But I am older than you,” Sagara stated, looking quite confused. “You’re fifteen years old. Same as those two.” Raiko began discussing in her head if this was just the right time for such a debate, though it also occurred to her that Sagara probably had no money whatsoever on him and wasn’t concerned as she was that they might make a grab for it before running off. She had just got to the thought of sneaking her purse into her khakis a little more to make it ungrabbable when the larger guy stamped his foot.

“Like fuck am I?!” the pack of large muscles cried out. “What the hell would you know?”

“I’m not sure,” Sagara replied. “It’s just somehow I know you’re not any older than fifteen years and four months.”

“Whatda ya say, brat,” the thug seemed uncaring for words now, and raised his fist to continue the discussion. Was Sagara right about it or something? How could this brute, who must have weighed in at a heavyweight level and looked not to have an once of fat on his body be only fifteen years. Reality interceded before the answer and Raiko watched as Sagara slipped back and away from an attack that didn’t come, circling behind the supposed teenager and next to Raiko, who congratulated herself on allowing them to get surrounded by street vagrants.

“Hey Sagara,” she whispered to him. “You better be as strong a fighter as you should be. I won’t be able to protect you otherwise with this many.”

“Does that mean we’re to fight them?” Sagara asked, not entirely stupid. “But they’re not demons.”

“Look out!” Raiko screamed before she could answer, the larger one lunging forward to punch him, knocking him back. The right hook connecting with his jaw, Sagara could only spit saliva as he fell. Raiko watched as the ground came to meet him, stopping inches before him, the boy now wrapped round the punk’s punching shoulder, dragging him along too.

“It’s okay, Raiko. I’m strong,” he stated casually, looking fine even with a curled up hand in his jaw. The girl breathed a sigh of relief as he hung there like a playful rat, tying the thug up for moments as he swung back round and away from his attacker.

“Shit, get them!” the thug shouted. “Let neither of them escape the alley.”

“Although Natoko did tell me that I shouldn’t train today,” the ninja mumbled with the group charging towards him, as he pondered his moral situation. The first one came at his right. Holding a baseball bat, jumping up at the ninja, swinging the blunt piece of wood towards his forehead. Tilting his neck, Sagara shifted his shoulder to the side, narrowly dodging the weapon. Because of his lunge, his attacker ended up stepping pass him, and had to take a moment to regain his balance. During this time, Sagara turned around and, grabbing his head, pushed the bat-wielding punk into the wall face first. Letting go, he heard the boy making a groaning noise, his nose also broken, collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Raiko cringed, she didn’t know why she had been so worried. Grinning, she looked to her own opponent, whichever one would approach first, that is.

***

 

Melissa observed; her view of the alley sufficient to take it all in, even the bruise Sagara would later receive from the attack. How did he do this? He was a fool of the highest degree. Even swimming effortlessly around his opponents like they were stones in a pond, Sagara was still an idiot to get into this fight in the first place. Random punks! Even worse would be that he’d probably prolong it. And for as long as possible.

And there wasn’t time for any of it.

The boy with the baseball bat was getting back up. Sagara dodged the other boy’s attempts to shove him towards the floor and noticed him try another overhead swing. It was simple for her lord to evade it, moving swiftly to the side and smiling nervously as the bat slammed into the head of the defenseless youth, knocking him flat and up. It took a few seconds of stifled comprehension for the bat boy to realise what he had done, having not seen his friend before the bat had swung him back round to face his accidental betrayal complete with blood stained face. Deciding to place his blame solely in Sagara rather than accept it in himself, he charged once again with a howl swinging his bat madly straight for the ninja.

As she expected, this completely missed Sagara, who evaded by jumping high into the air. His eyes ignited in fury, the boy spun around trying to find his target . With no other clue, he looked up to see a dark shadow flying towards him in front of the piercing sunlight. Instinctively raising his club up in order to block what was coming at him, Melissa saw the boy close his eyes, flinching too hard as Sagara skidded off his shoulder, knocking him down, but not out.

Already rain clouds were zeroing unnaturally in on their direction, all the buildings that they were covering fading away like dreams that never were. There was no doubt something had zeroed in on him. Curse him. He was supposed to never be found. Even if he was, he was supposed to have certain wards to protect him.

“And as much as I would like them to teach you a lesson, it would cause problems for us later on.”

“Daisuke,” the large man, or boy in Sagara’s eyes, shouted, the girl standing between them not even trying to attack him yet. “Ushiro!”

Far too late. A boot lightly pressed itself against the boy’s nose, breaking it as light as one would safety remove an eggshell, his legs appearing to willingly fall from underneath him before her lord could crash down into him. Now, all four of those who had appeared from nowhere were on the ground, with only two left, and only about two minutes left at the same time.

An attempt at redemption, this is what this was. Her lord had let himself get blindsided the other night, a result of being stupid enough to assume the person wouldn’t attack with his back turned. Even if he didn’t realise it himself, he had let the fight happen, or wanted it to. But there wasn’t enough time, and he had no intention of beating up normal humans without a good reason.

 

“Kisama! Buttoukorosu,” screamed the punk, dropping the bat to feel his nose. Sagara waited patiently for the boy to get his bearings back as the world started swirling around them. Despite his weak size, the boy was doing surprisingly well at standing up to Sagara.

“Yamarou, Daisuke!” the muscular man called out in Japanese. “Tsuyosou, Daisuke. Tame ni tsuyo sugiru. Kare o atsukauyo.” Clapping his hands, the man stepped up to get Sagara’s attention, the smaller one stepping back.

“Omoshiro so,” the man babbled, standing directly in front of Sagara engulfing her lord within his shadow alone. “You’re pretty interesting. Fight like a kung fu film, do ya?” Melissa’s head clicked. The language barrier just dissipated.

“Erm…thank you,” Sagara said casually to the piece of steel in front of him. “You look strong yourself. I’ll fight you next.” Hearing this, the man burst out into hysterics that made him look like a bad actor.

“Fight me, you little prick?” His expression changed, scrunching up like a chocolate wrapper, becoming deeply offended by the mere request. “You think you can fight on my fuckin’ level? Acrobatics. Evasion. Precision. They all mean fuck all my strength!”

She was aware of her eyes widening, the man’s fist was already pass the point where Sagara’s stomach had been, the force  knocking him back. The fist was huge, and covered her lord’s abs easily. It was only on him for a second, and then his body moved away from it, giving his back enough space to slam into the wall, the hard brick refusing to budge before him. Her lord winded, he fell to the floor with a moment of daziness. That was good. Anyone else would have had their cheeks shredded as their teeth tightened over them, but Sagara was relaxed enough to absorb the blow without much damage. The wall hadn’t helped though. The girl screamed out his name,.

“Shall we try?” said Sagara, answering a question Melissa must have missed. Her lord slowly rose up, appearing undamaged to the thug before him and ready to fight for real, when the tweeting of a bird suddenly muted outside of the ally reminded her there were more pressing concerns to deal with.

“Run, you moron,” she shouted, breaking the silence she was supposed to keep round others. She hoped the kids wouldn’t understand her. “This place is trapped in a Spinner!”

“No, it isn’t,” Sagara shouted back without looking at her. “I would have…” he stuttered, breathing heavily, “noticed…” He stopped in mid sentence and she watched as he brought his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them raw as she noticed the thug looking up at her with an astonished gape.

Seeing his expression, she set up the motions for an illusion of heavy air to cover her existence, only to freeze up herself when she saw it wasn’t working. Feeling like she had forgotten batteries, she clenched her muscles to get the illusion working, only to generate nothing. Now she was definitely exposed.

“I can’t sense it,” he shouted back up to her. “I can’t sense anything.”

“The girl,” Melissa said in surprise, looking at the wall of the cafe, as a large metal gate shot up and around the brick and mortar, raising itself into the skies around the building almost as fast as she could jump into its newly formed cage.

“The building’s been possessed by a Spinner demon. It’s shunting us. I didn’t even know something like this could have a voice.”

“It’s an evil café?” the girl said. “That’s just stupid.”

“I don’t know why, but there’s something stopping any special abilities here,” Melissa informed him, starting to climb down the stairs. “I can’t even form illusions at this point and I’m guessing you haven’t been able to sense spirits since you met this girl this morning.” She went to drop down from the stairwell, to land next to her lord. She didn’t make it, the air hanging onto her feet. She found herself levitating against her own will.

“What the fuck?” the man shouted, and she realised they were too far gone now. His little friend didn’t wait for an answer, turning around and running out of the alley as fast as he could, the final part of the gate raising itself into the sky as soon as he passed it, not even turning around to look.

“Oh, we’re trapped,” Sagara stated obviously, looking around to find a way out.

“What’s going on, Sagara?” Raiko asked behind him. “This is a Spinner. Why is there a Spinner demon coming after us?” Looking on, Melissa saw the two face each other, Sagara seemed concerned about something else now, staring at the girl for more reason than answering her question.

“You tell us,” Melissa interceded. “We’re being awfully setup today. And it’s quite easy to see who to blame when you’ve only known them a couple of hours before they lead you down a dark alley containing random encounters.”

“You’re saying I did this?” Raiko said offended, apparently having no problem arguing with someone who was floating six feet above her. “I’m one of you. I serve the Negotiator of the Balance, Sakimoto Yuya. And besides, he just fell into my room.”

“Yes I know. I learnt of your presence last night.” Melissa scanned the girl for the usual abnormalities. “I was willing to pass this off as just a lonely girl who wanted to meet someone else made out of demons until about three minutes ago. Now I’m wondering how many of our laws you’re breaking.”

“I’m not breaking any. I just wanted to meet him.”

“I’ve noticed nothing wrong with me all day,” Sagara interrupted.

“What?” both girls asked sternly.

“All day, I felt no change in my eyes. That can only mean that whatever is wrong with the eye of Futabatei happened when I woke up that morning, and I woke up next to you.”

“The Eye of Futabatei?” Raiko replied. Melissa was slowly understanding now. What was stopping her illusions, and the boy’s eyes, it could only be one thing really. “Of course, you would have that, wouldn’t you? But isn’t it supposed to be automatic?”

“Sagara,” Melissa chimed. “They’re beginning the switch.”

“We’re caught in their trap, Melissa. Might as well go for the ride,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the girl as he considered her question. “I’m a little different to the rest of my family. I have to activate it, but how have you stopped it?”

“Then, then,” Raiko fished into her pocket, pulling out the long line of fabric that made up her headband. “It must be this.” His new, supposed friend pulled the end of the bandage out of her pocket, revealing a glowing gem that had been wrapped up inside the headband. It was dark green and looked like a large expensive emerald, but what was most notable about it was the complete absence of light that refracted through it. In fact, light would just physically stop just a few millimetres before it reached the jade rock. Melissa recognised it instantly

“A Neutralis shard?” Melissa shouted in shock. “Who are you to have one of those?”

“Oh, sorry. She’s Raiko,” Sagara explained. “Raiko, this is Melissa.” The girl called Raiko stared at him, both girls knowing this is clearly not what she meant.

“Oi!” the large man shouted out. “We’re still fighting here. I don’t give a fuck what’s going on around us.”

“You should,” Melissa explained, hovering in front of him, her ability to obey gravity’s laws failing her as she spoke to the muscle bound fool. “We’re being transported to the InBetween Realm, more than likely by a demon.”

“This!” she said, turning to Sagara as she flailed her arms in all directions. “This is what you get for being too relaxed about demon hunting. Not only do you leave enough evidence of that demon for a trace last night, but now we’ve got no choice but to drag innocent people along.”

“Just what the fuck is going on?”

“Shut up. Don’t say anything,” she stressed to the man, trying to get in his face despite her current midair paralysis. “Don’t touch anything and don’t move about, and you might survive.” Her body was disobeying her without gravity, and she felt her weapons jangle as she flipped upside down.

“He’s got no where to go anyway,” Raiko said over them. “We’re already no longer in the city.” The new girl turned to Sagara. “Looks like I’m not going to get to show you around,” she said with a hapless grin.

“Looks like,” he replied sheepishly. “Could you turn that thing off or something? I have a feeling I’m going to need my eyes.”

“Erm, sure,” The girl mumbled, and Melissa’s peeked over as the girl waved her hand over the strange green gem. The emerald stone hummed loudly as the charge built up before cutting off as it switched to standby mode. The girl put it in her pocket and already Melissa felt her senses tingling again, like they had been lightly brushed with a feather. If that was the case then her illusions were probably back up too, although in front of two unknowns wasn’t the best time to show anything special off. It was a very good thing that she had dyed her hair recently. Some respect might have been lost if these people saw it turn back to its original colour.

“We’re still traveling,” Sagara said, his Eyes of Futabatei now prominently green and scanning the area. “We haven’t reached whoever is trying to kidnap us.”

“Kidnap us?” Raiko shouted out, now looking around appearing more worried than before. “What’s going on, why are we being transported like this? Don’t the demons only do this when someone’s really insulted them?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m guessing it’s a vendetta. I have so many of them,” Sagara said with a bright laugh, the type reserved for happy, nostalgic memories. On the floor, Melissa noticed that the unconscious boy fading away. It was only the big guy coming with them it seemed. Sleep wouldn’t allow any of its citizens to travel back and forth between realms without its say-so and it’ll be good if they could only go further with only faithless here. “By the way, if you feel something try to grab you, just try to ignore it. It’ll be a spectre. They’re only curious as to what we are.”

“That’s what it is,” Nobori grunted as he got back up, “I was hoping it was a girl trying to feel me up.”

“Shut up,” Raiko grunted. “You have no idea what’s going on here, so just be a good, little boy and be quiet.”

“Yo, fuck you!” Sagara ignored the obscene outburst and tried to enlighten his opponent.

“Basically what’s happening is we’re being taken to… somewhere by evil unspeakable creatures of doom. To do that they use a Spinner, picking up parts of our reality and replacing it with their own really, really fast, so it doesn’t leave a mark. This will all change when we get there, but basically we traveling through an inbetween inbetween realm before we get to the InBetween realm and this dimension’s native inhabitants are looking at us confused. However, because of the illusions being set up by evil enemy number one, we aren’t supposed to be able to see them. Now that I have my eyes working again, I can.”

“So….” Nobori said thinking. “If I ignore half of the crap you said, what’s going on?”

“Not basically, we’re being kidnapped.”

“And why?”

“Like he said,” Melissa piped in, finally having enough of futile attempts at secrecy. “It’ probably a vendetta. Those morons from the False Balance.”

Act Two – Chapter Four

As expected, girl,” Fujiko said from the other end of the phone. “I didn’t think you’d go so fast. Was he good?”

“What?” Natoko said from the hotel payphone, honestly confused at to what the woman was implying. “No. No!” she exclaimed, quickly realising. “He slept on the floor. We did nothing like that. You sick, crazy freak.”

It was early morning. Sagara had decided not to wake up when she stood on him by accident getting out of bed. Though part of him had, but it was more just his hand that woke up rather than the rest of his body. There was something strangely amusing about seeing the hand drag the 175lb deadweight off the small rug, round the bed and into the balcony window, which it tried to get through for five minutes whilst Natoko got herself a glass of water. Seeing that he was not going to get up anytime soon, she opened the balcony window to see where the hand would go next, before getting bored and going to shower.

She had left it on the other side of the railings, still trying to walk on the surfaceless air while the rest of the body stayed attached to the hotel behind the railings. A splash of water to her face later and she decided that it might be a good idea to ring Heavenly Springs to inform everyone where they were. She was hoping to speak to Otsune or Sakura and tell them everything that had happened that night. Unfortunately, she had ended up with Fujiko, with someone singing in the background.

“Really?” she heard a dopey sounding voice shouting in the background. “Congratulations, Natoko!”

“Shut up!” the tired samurai shouted down the receiver, fruitlessly hoping that the girl would hear and managing to gain the attention of everyone in the lobby at the same time. Feeling herself blushing, she quickly tried to hide her presence in the corner of the phone booth. “Anyway, we’ll be staying at the new hotel for the rest of the trip.”

“Er? Why not stay with everyone else?” Fujiko asked. “Unless you’re planning on going for round two…or is it thr…”

“Be-cause,” Natoko exclaimed, “all registrants have to be at the tournament at nine to help with the arrangements, their match line ups and other things. The matches themselves start at midday. This is closer to the location from what i’ve been told, and if we stay here we have a contact from the tournament nearby. You should just try and get everyone here before then. I know you’ve got seats booked but there’s still probably going to be a rush.”

“Hhhhmmm, maybe we should come in today and stay the night too, to make sure you two don’t get up to anything.” Fujiko giggled a little as she continued her stupid irrational assumptions. Natoko could swear she could smell the alcohol-coated breath of the freelance writer emitting itself through the phone just to annoy her and tried to calm her mind with a soothing image of Fujiko being destroyed by liver failure.

“Fine, do as you wish,” she said sighing. “At least tell everyone where we are. Got that?” Hearing nothing but intoxicated laughter, she left the news up to fate, but as she went to hang up, she heard another voice down the phone.

“…still there, Natoko?”

“Oh, Otsune, thank god. Someone with intelligence.”

“Did you and Sagara really spend the night together?”

“Otsune!” She screamed down the phone this time, and everyone in the hotel backed away from the girl with the suspiciously long bag tied round her back.

“Just kidding, girl. Listen, er…” Otsune paused for a moment. “We should be getting the tram that shows up in an hour’s time, but where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The place where the tournament’s at?”

“It says on the ticket, doesn’t it?” She pulled hers out. “Three blocks north, two blocks south, right?

“Right, but Junko walks through that area to work and she says it’s just a bunch of restaurants on that street. It may be there, but I’m sure Sagara mentioned it was a stadium.” He had, Natoko recalled, but now she thought about it, the only stadium in the city she know of was the National and she knew that place. “Plus, if he came from abroad, I figured it would be… well, flashier.” Natoko thought hard about it for a moment. Sagara had told her the address, and she had checked it online this morning on the hotel’s free internet. The location definitely existed, but her senior was right, it didn’t feel right for some reason.

“I’ll try and find someone else in the tournament today, and check with them. We shouldn’t take any chances if we’re relying on Sagara.”

“If you say so,” Otsune replied. “Anything you want us to bring?”

“Just my toothpaste if you would. I had to use the hotel’s today.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” the student replied. “What about your sword?”

“What about it?”

“You forgot it yesterday.”

“No I didn’t,” the samurai felt round her back to her long thin backpack. Judging by the weight, the blade was in there as well.

“What? I’m sure I saw it by the table after you left.”

“And I’m sure I have it.” It was like being asked if both her lungs were still working. It felt stupid to check.

“I’ll go check.”

“That’s not necessary, Otsune. I’m holding it as we speak.”

“Well, if you insist…” The woman still sounded unsure herself.

“Why would I have left it behind?” Natoko cleared her throat loudly. “Anyway, I don’t need anything else.”

“Okay. We’ll get there and check into a hotel as soon as possible. You have my mobile?”

She did, and soon she found herself hanging the phone up, sighing to herself deeply, wondering when she would get round to buying a mobile phone for herself. People mingling round the hotel were still giving her funny looks, but they were easy to ignore. Looking at the clock, she felt hunger trying to rip itself out of her stomach and eat a passing tourist, and decided that it was probably time for some food.

The restaurant seemed rather sophisticated, the type that she would usually find herself getting thrown out of if she entered with any of the others from the dorm. In fact, the entire hotel was of a high class and didn’t feel right in this part of the city. How did Sagara get them into it? He really was a Lord. The place was empty at the moment save for a white haired girl eating some pancakes slowly in the corner and a young man arguing with the waitress at the bar. Her stomach suggested that it might be a good idea to head over there and ask one of them for some food. As she got closer, she picked up their conversation.

“Aw come on,” the man begged to her. “It’s only just gone ten.”

“Sorry,” the waitress said, trying to ignore him as much as he would allow. “But the sign says, we stop breakfast at ten. We stopped making fifteen minutes ago.”

Natoko rubbed her eyes. They still felt irritated from the saliva they had received last night.

“But I got up late,” the boy continued to argue.

“That’s not my fault.”

“No it’s mine, that’s not the point.”

“Oh, and what is?” The boy stopped at this, not exactly sure where he was going with this, as his stomach rumbled loudly, threatening the waitress with physical violence. The woman just exhaled loudly. “Look, if there was one more person, we could open it up quickly for you, but you’re alone.”

“No I’m not,” the man pointed out, noticing Natoko reading the menu next to him. “She wants breakfast too, don’t you?” Natoko didn’t register him at first, she was just annoyed at how expensive everything seemed.

“Excuse me,” the man repeated, catching her attention this time. “Are you getting breakfast?”

“No, I’m just looking for a snack. It’s a bit late for breakfast,” Natoko replied, causing a sneer of triumph to appear on the waitresses face.

“Aw, come on,” the man whined. “Breakfast is healthy, and important if you wish to be strong. Eat breakfast like I do and you’ll be strong fighter like me.” Natoko had stopped paying attention for a moment to stare at the menu again, thinking that the conversation had ended. From her point of view, the idea about being strong and healthly seemed a little hypocritical from this man. From what she could tell by just looking at him it looked like the doctors had got carried away when he was born and thought it would be a brilliant idea to remove all of his muscles and anything else they figured would slow him down in order to make him as light as possible. Even as a bad judge of body size, Natoko could tell he weighed a lot less than she did. It was amazing he ate at all. Natoko’s ears told her that she had a message, and after hearing it she grinned, turned to the skinny fighter again.

“I am stronger than you,” she replied, letting herself grin a Sagara grin. The man scowled at this, not expecting it.

“Yeah right, lady,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “You just go on believing that and…” He didn’t get time to finish the sentence. Natoko decided that touching her wasn’t allowed; grabbing the man’s first two fingers and applying pressure to the fore knuckles. The pain forced him to a knee and one leg, which he was allowed to stand for one second longer as she swept it off the ground, taking a chair along with him.

“Don’t touch me,” Natoko threatened smoothly. The man looked on in shock, both as to how he was on the floor.

“Damn you, bitch,” he muttered to himself. Natoko ignored him to look back to the menu, with the waitress looking on, wondering what to do. As he stood back up, he saw one of the sharper knives lying on the side of the counter. Without hesitating, he grabbed it and swung it towards her.

“Look out,” the waitress screamed, her voice feeling like it turned the air around them into water. Natoko noticed the boy’s attack the second he grabbed the knife, her arm moving up to block it easily. What was with people this week? Seeing her defense, the man changed the position of the knife so that it would run along his arm. Natoko saw this too, and despite how slow time felt it was moving for her, it was still too late to move her forearm out of the way of being sliced. Dropping her leg down to evade, her body ground to a halt, realising that the waitress would be in the line of attack were she to move. She was too late.

Feeling the man’s forearm hit against her own, Natoko found confusion without a scream of pain coming out of her mouth or a crimson tide from her arm. The knife was gone, all three sets of eyes failing to find it as they scanned the room. Instinctively looking to the floor to see if he had dropped it, the boy did the same, clearly having nothing to do with the disappearance of the blade.

“I told you not to do stuff like this,” a voice said to Natoko’s right. Connected to the voice was another young man. He looked similar to her attacker. They both had black hair and brown eyes, but were both clearly Caucasian. The only real difference between the two was that the new man was a lot fatter than the other one, obscenely so.

Despite his weight, he had foreboding grace as he stared her attacker down, like his excess bulk didn’t bother his spine at all. Examining him, her brain catching up to meet the daze of events that had occurred, she recoiled in shock as she saw the knife resting in his hand, broken halfway from the tip. “When did you-” she started, as the newcomer turned away from the both of them to face the waitress.

“Please forgive the actions of my cousin. He tends to be a little- well idiotic.” The cousin’s head fell in shame. Natoko’s mind only just registering that he had put the knife down moments before he had started speaking. “As for you,” he said, turning to Natoko once again. “My cousin will apologise to you by paying for your meal.”

“But she…” the cousin shouted out, his humiliation fading. “But she attacked…” he stopped talking as his cousin turned back to him. Natoko couldn’t see the larger boy’s face, but the thin boy became sheet white as their eyes met. “Fine” he snorted, doing his best to hide it. “What do you want?”

Natoko wasn’t expecting this, something felt horribly wrong with her heart just looking at this guy and she hadn’t even decided on what she wanted anyway yet, not having planned on anything fancy. Though the sudden temptation of money not being a factor appealed to her and figured she could abuse it if this was a rest day. She looked back to the menu to quickly decide, feeling the offer was for a limited time only. During all this, the waitress just smiled and said to Natoko.

“May I suggest something, madam?” She grinned as she looked over to the thinner brother. He gulped slightly at her gaze. “Today’s special offer, or as I like to call it, something obscenely expensive that I just made up, The Grando Salm Supremeo Super Ice Cream Sundae, it’s our tastiest and most expensive item.” Natoko found herself grinning along with the girl, as waves of pure evil flushed over the both of them, seducing them with dairy products.

“Very well,” she said closing her eyes. “I believe a treat is appropriate once in a while, and I am supposed to rest today. Yes, one Grando Slam- whatever it was.” The other girl turned her evil grin into a pleasant ‘thank you for your service, you little moron’ smile, which she promptly directed at the thinner of the two cousins.

“Coming right up,” she said sweetly, preparing to go over to the kitchen when she was stopped.

“Hold it,” the fatter, quicker cousin ordered, before turning to his relative. “Pay her now. We are to leave immediately.”

“Right. Er… how much is it?”

“Ten thousand yen,” the waitress replied without missing a beat.

“Te-“ the boy began before catching his cousin’s gaze. He soon descended into a mumbling of profanities as he started fishing into his pocket, slamming a wad of bills on the table before walking off in front of his cousin. The other one followed, but stopped at the door.

“By the way,” he said to Natoko. “If you really are in the tournament, I suggest you retire.”

“What?” Natoko growled at him.

“I heard your telephone conversation. If you had to look around to see where the knife had gone, then you are not ready for any of what will happen next,” he said bluntly, as if stepping into her life was like stepping in mud. “My cousin is only in it because of father. If you’re at his level, then you are only going to get hurt.”

“Oh,” she said, looking away for a moment, intending to show him nothing but contempt for his attitude. “And what would you know?” she said back to an empty doorframe. They were gone, she muttered, her feet already lifting up and heading for the doorway. The samurai looked through the finely crafted arcade that counted as the exit to the restaurant. From it, she could see the whole hallway, even the blind spots were shown through mirrors on the other side. He wasn’t there. His cousin had plenty of time to leave and she saw him do so, but this one had just gone. A ‘ching’ noise behind her broke her out of her trance.

“Thank you very much, suckers,” the waitress shouted to the empty doorframe, instantly becoming polite again to Natoko. “I’ll get your order. I warn you, your stomach better be empty at this point.

“Thanks,” replied Natoko, feeling worse for wear as the waitress wandered out of sight again. “He was fast,” she muttered to herself in the now empty restaurant. “Perhaps faster than Sagara. And he’s in the tournament?”

“Huh? Did you say something?” the waitress asked, coming back. “Your order will be here in a minute.”

***

“Toffees for you, toffees for me. We all like the toffees, so let’s all have three.”

Sagara awoke as he did every morning, with his body getting up three hours before his brain. The body was unsure of its current location. Without the brain to guide it, it could not be told that it had already partially woken up an hour earlier and began to crawl to the window. It could also not be told that the balcony window had been opened by Yamanaka Natoko and allowed to further crawl to the railings before passing out again because of the gentle, cool breeze that it felt.

Now, without the brain to guide it, it could not be aware that instead of being on the ground floor of Heavenly Springs that it had gotten used to over the past few weeks, it was instead on the fourteenth floor balcony of a hotel in the city of Fuugosuki. This as quite unfortunate for, were the brain active, it could inform the body that it had already woken up earlier and had dragged itself to the balcony thanks to the help of Yamanaka Natoko, and be able to warn the brain of the forty foot drop that its legs had just walked onto. Unfortunately, one could not, and so the other did so.

As it fell to its doom, Sagara’s brain slowly rose due to the refreshing gush of air that was slicing across the screaming body. His first thoughts that morning were of food, his stomach felt tight for some reason, possibly since he had not ate that lunchtime the day before, the crushing lift from all the air he was falling on or his own naturally fast metabolism.

As he began to wake up a little more, he became aware that his mouth was screaming for some reason, as if its life were at risk. He opened his eyes sleepily and realized that his life was indeed at risk. From what he could gather of the situation at first glance apparently, sometime last night, he had fallen off of the balcony and into thin air, which he was still currently falling through. His first thought after this was that it might be a ingeniously good idea to stop his descent before he could have a face-to-face conversation with the ground that would end in one of them dying in a huff. Sagara did what he viewed as perhaps the smartest thing to do in this situation, and grabbed the rocky edge of the seventh floor balcony. His right shoulder informed him that it did not like being dislocated like that, and forced him to let go and continue his descent.

In a fortunate display of both luck and basic physics, his trajectory had now been changed in a direction that to some people might not be considered luck more than instantaneous death. The balcony of room 6F2 came towards Sagara’s feet and literally shuddered at the pain it anticipated. As his feet slammed into the denser-than-his-feet concrete that made up the balcony of room 6F2, he felt his entire body continue to follow. His legs buckled and fell forwards, his knees went into revolt and his chest prepared to crack itself open. Luckily, his arms were still on his side and allowed the vast amount of force to enter them as he pushed himself into a forward handspring. However in doing so they were also made to feel the appalling conditions that the feet and knees were put under they also became part of the revolution, collapsing and letting the body fall onto the floor with an echoing thud. Sagara found himself lying on the floor of the room that consisted of 6F2 and wondering what Australia was currently doing in the room with him.

“Can’t say I was expecting that,” Australia said in front of him, sitting on the bed and looking at him out of the corner of its Opera House. “Are…are you all right?” Sagara stared at the country for a moment, wondering what to make of the situation. He had not spoken to an entire country before.

“Aren’t you… suppose to be with New Zealand?” he asked, dazed at his new found experience of getting up off the wrong side of bed. The country turned its head as it watched him black out for a few seconds.

***

When Sagara came too, he would first find himself on a bed that was badly made and had a strange odour to it. To the side of him, there appeared to be a girl, tending to his body in a series of pokes.

“Tell me when it hurts,” she informed him, spending the next minute or so poking around his arms and chest, stopping when he started to giggle. “Looks like you’re fine,” she stated, praising her ability to completely cure a patient without doing anything. Sitting up on the bed, Sagara found himself looking around. It looked just like his room from last night, except he was allowed on this bed without being attacked. The girl who wasn’t attacking him appeared to be Japanese, with short hair that gave the impression that each strand was coloured black and eyes that were currently blue. Wrapped lightly around her neck was a long white headband, which he saw trailed off into one of the pockets of her dressing gown. It seemed pointlessly wrong to have something that long, especially around her neck. Despite her reassurance, Sagara appeared a little concussed, possibly from the fall, and held his head carefully in case in increased exponentially in weight.

“What happened to Australia?” he asked her. The country was indeed not in the room, and it would not have been able to fit through the door if it had tried to sneak out.

“Hhhhm you’re still a little out of it I see,” the girl replied, failing to answer his most inquisitive question. “I guess it’s understandable. Most people tend to die when they fall to their doom.” She began to check his forehead, finding it nice and cold, putting the other side of her hand on it before replacing it with her other hand. Sagara just sat there drooling slightly, taking what warmth he could. Realizing what she was doing, she pulled her hand away and smiled at him. “I’m Raiko,” she said, informing him of the noise people made when they wish to speak to her.

“Sagara,” the boy replied, yawning slightly and forgetting her name without even noticing.

“Sagara?” she said, rolling his name across her lips. “Futabatei Sagara?”

“Uh huh,” he confirmed.

“The Heir of the Futabatei clan, and future holder of the position of Enforcer?”

“Uh huh,” he repeated.

“So you’re here for the tournament then?”

“Oh, are you…”

“Yup. Me as well. I’m not entering though. Did that last time.” His eyes drooping as she spoke, Sagara tried to get out of bed. In doing so, he suffered the wrath of a mildly complaining shoulder, winced at the pain it gave him and then incessantly apologised.

“Ah, you kind of dislocated that back there. I fixed it for you,” the girl told him, as if she was telling him that she turned off the television. He looked at the joint, circling it a few times.

“Thanks,” he replied, not wondering why the thumb didn’t look like it was in the right place. It was then when he realized that his Draynor had appeared, having been there since the fall, covering the hand that should have shattered all over the girl’s stone balcony.

“I don’t know why you were wearing that demon when asleep, but it’s a good thing you were. You would have shattered your fingers when you grabbed the balcony,” The girl informed him before getting up. “I’ll go get us a drink. Would you like orange, coke or tea?”

“Orange please,” he said, forgetting all about nearly dying when liquid was mentioned. He watched as the girl wandered to the other side of the room, which looked like it was meant to be a kitchen that had been painted onto the apartment room and then had a sink stuck to it.

The girl returned from the other side of the room with two glasses of orange liquid. Taking her word for it that it was orange juice he began to drink, consuming the contents of the glass in one fell swoop, the girl jumping onto the other end of the bed.

“So what were you doing falling through the air like that?” she said curiously.

“Waking up,” Sagara yawned. Since getting to Heavenly Springs, he had been told by many that he always woke up in the strangest of places for reasons that he never told anyone, but this was the first time it had been outside the thirteenth and twelve floor of a building since doing so.

“So not flying then?”

“No, just falling.” The girl let out an exaggerated whine, sipping her juice slowly.

“Well, it’s quite an event to have you here anyway. Actually if you hadn’t woke me up, I probably wouldn’t have.” Sagara looked at the girl at this, and realized she was only wearing a dressing gown. The bed was poorly made too, as if someone had just got up after hearing a loud noise just to the side of the bed.

“Yeah, I guess I should get going. Natoko’s probably wondering where I disappeared to.” The girl had probably gotten up before he had, but he should check the room to see if she left him a note.

“Oh, is Natoko your girlfriend?” Raiko asked, in typical girl curiosity style.

“No,” he said, with little change of the tone in his voice.

“Ah, I see” the girl said, not thinking about it for too long. “Hey, can I follow you around today?” she asked suddenly.

“What?” Sagara replied, not expecting such a question.

“Well, I got back into Japan last night, and I don’t really know anyone here. Well, there’s my boss, but I don’t get on with her. So I was thinking I could hang out with you, since you’re my age, and people of the same age always have a tendency to hang out together, possibly because they’re the same age, but it may be because of the smell.” Sagara laughed.

“Okay, I don’t see why not.” That was the plan Natoko had suggested to occur on this day. There was also the finding demons things that they should get started on but something was telling him that could wait.

“Cool, I’ll go get dressed,” she said, standing and going to her closest, getting changed in front of him.

Sagara lifted the glass up again, trying to rescue the rest of the entrapped juice from its terrorist captor glass.

“Okay, let’s go,” the girl said, now wearing what looked like a white sports shirt and black combat trousers, of which the large, white headband was draping into. She looked more like she was about to start training than go sightseeing. “You should probably go back to your place and put a shirt on first. People in this country aren’t as casual about these things. You probably want to aim to look like the eccentric Englishman than the stupid pig American.”

“But I am American.”

“And I’m a famous singer, but that doesn’t mean we should show what we are all the time, should we?”

Act Two – Chapter Three

The corridors were gone, the room now opened out to a large office space, cubicles littering the plain magnolia carpets. Computers humming away silently to themselves. Only a few lights were on. Like animals in a zoo, a few weary workers shifted uncomfortably in their office chairs, not noticing the two newcomers as they entered the room. Sagara was already looking around aimlessly.

“How did we…” Natoko started, her voice halting as she caught a glimpse out of the window, the lights of a city illuminating the night-scape up to the horizon. She recognised this place, in particular the three large white towers that made up the shopping district Aki would drag her to when it was their turn to do shopping. This was Fuugosuki, the city closest to Heavenly Springs, half an hour’s journey on the tram line and a ten minute walk to the centre of the city itself. How did they end up here?

And how high up was she? Even if the corridor was on an incline. Her mind stung her as she tried to grasp it, Sagara uncaring as he muttered a quick hello to one of the workers, who shifted suddenly in his chair to turn to the intruder. The man stayed silent as he regarded Sagara for a few seconds, the boy just continuing to wave at him until he got a response.

“C-can I help you at all?” the man asked, his face telling Natoko that he clearly didn’t want to provide any sort of assistance to two teenagers who popped out of nowhere. Sagara pondered this for a moment, having not moved for a conversation in the first place.

“Yeah er…” he turned round. “Hey Natoko. What was the name of our hotel again?”

“Why are we on the twelfth floor?” she asked at him as soon as she got a glance at the elevator. This night was progressively getting too much for her brain. If this was what Sagara’s life was like, no wonder he seemed to wander around brain dead half the time. It must be the only way to survive.

“Because this is where the door came out,” he replied far too literally. “I figured it would be the city. Good job it was really.”

No, not lucky. They hadn’t been running that long. And she couldn’t have been that far off when she said it was ten to fifteen miles to the city. Even if she had somehow drastically mistaken a distance that took twenty minutes to reach by train, she was positive that there wasn’t a long stretch of a building going from the town to the city.

A woman wandered into the room between them, looking over documents as her heels clicked the floor. Looking the two of them over, she hovered a few steps back as if caught between forgetting something and wanting to pretend she had forgotten something.  She lost when she caught the eye of the first man, who looked desperate for her to take control.

“Can I help you two at all?” the woman asked in a ‘your life depends upon your answer being inversely proportional to my level of bitchiness’ sort of way. Natoko tried to answer first, and failed.

“I’m Sagara. This is Natoko. Pleased to meet you. We’re intruders. We came through that door running away from possessed old people.”

The woman’s eyes lit up as soon as Sagara pointed. She returned Sagara’s smile, walking backwards to the intercom on the wall and pressing the small red button gently. “Security!” she shouted, her face fierce and mouth roaring.

Natoko sighed. The night was getting worse and it was becoming clear that it would be up to her to sort things out. She stepped forward to try to offer a better explanation, not entirely sure if she could give one, when she realised the guards were already surrounding her. She would have expected a side door, or at the extreme, the main entrance. She did not expect two men to simply fall from the boring white ceiling, followed by another two popping out of the ground as if the carpet wasn’t a physical obstacle. They were dressed mostly in black, a feeling of ninja hidden behind blue shirts and radios strapped to their shoulders. Within seconds they had formed up around them, pulling out their batons, the one wearing the cap looking towards the receptionist lady.

“Yes! What’s the problem, mam?” he asked, in a bright and cheerful voice that reminded Natoko of her sports teacher.

“These two,” she said in an authoritative manner. “They came through that door. Escort them out the building.” Natoko turned to the door they had come through, the mahogany brown wood looked out of place in a clean stylish office like this.

“Yes mam,” he shouted with a salute, before rapidly pointing to her. “You two, flank them, Futsuki, you’re with me. Restrain them if you would please!”.

As the two unnamed guards began to circle them to block off their exits, the office lady backed off a little to give them some room. Natoko found herself a little surprised at their choice of just attacking rather than asking them to leave. Sagara, not as concerned, jumped towards the first man  slamming into his stomach with a sharp kick, before sending two punches to either side of his face knocking him out cold and quick.

His boss advanced, swinging back around to try and swing his weapon into the back of Sagara’s skull. The boy ignored this, ducking and using the open space to spin round and hook his left leg round the guard’s right one before shifting his body round to lift both in the air. Letting the guard fall to the ground with a thud, Sagara let his body spin round once more and followed the man down, driving his elbow into the man’s solar plexus. After this, he shifted his weight across his elbow and flipped back onto his legs, as the men looked on at their fallen superior officer.

He didn’t wait for them. Natoko just watched him as the boy flowed through the air around them without restraint, smiling as he tore into them, lifting one up by his ankle and waving him at the other, he countered a blow and started to wail on the poor guard with his fists. The man fell back with one of his teeth going a different route. Sagara brought it for the ride as he crashed down on top of the man. Not content with merely leaving him to groan on the floor, the ninja landed on him sharply and threw another fist into the man’s face several times..

“Stop this!” a voice emanated from across the room, causing all there to freeze in their place. Sagara kept his place on top of the man, his eyes peering out of the corner to see another woman. She was impressively tall, with her hair tied back and slick spectacles adorning a face Natoko couldn’t help but see as beautiful whilst presentable and perfectly complemented by a stylish red business suit. The only thing that failed to complete the look was that she was wearing white running shoes, one of which had an untied shoelace.

“Ms. Sakimoto?” the other woman called out, her head bowing in deference.

“What is going on here?” she asked the woman, readjusting her glasses as she reached the group. As she started talking, Sagara seemed to assume she didn’t want to speak to him and went on with finishing off the remaining guards. Natoko rushed to hold him back, keen to keep some sanity in their defense.

“Th-they came in here and started causing a fuss,” the woman said, appearing very shy in the presence of what was probably her superior. “Then I called security and he started to beat them up. W-we should call the special department immediately.”

The older woman seemed somewhat distracted for a moment as stared the two of them down, Sagara wrapped p in Natoko’ arm as she tried in vain to pull him off the guard, the woman’s composed glare keeping them contained as she smiled lightly to them.

“It’s a good job you didn’t,” she said calmly, but with a veil covering her words. “We would have had the entire Futabatei clan on us if we sent this one back in a body bag. Why on earth did you call the guard on them?”

“Well… well, they’re intruders,” she decided to say, her voice teetering in fear. “They said so themselves.” It should have been a valid excuse, but it melted away before the woman in front of her. The woman grunted to herself for a moment before readjusting her glasses. “Go on, get out of here. I’ll handle these two. And you four can get lost as well.” The office lady  took a moment to look as shocked and confused as Natoko was, before quickly heading for a desk on the other side of the room. As Natoko’s eyes followed her, she noticed that the four security guards had already disappeared with the exception of a single tooth.

“I take it you are part of the clan as well.” Natoko wasn’t listening, and flinched it when she realised she was being stared at.

“She is,” Sagara said, lying before Natoko had a chance to say anything. “She’s Natoko.” The girl decided it was best for her not to protest or say anything for that matter, and gave a small bow to introduce herself. The woman didn’t respond and instead turned out of the room. Sagara following her down into a corridor with abstract pictures adorning the room exactly every five meters. Natoko trailed behind them.

Keeping a few steps behind Sagara, they followed the woman to a lavish office at the end of the corridor, decorated simplistically with few pictures and mostly modern furniture. A leather couch sat invitingly to the side, a cupboard built into the wall containing thousands of books with the type of complicated titles that told her she’d have to buy them at outrageous prices should she ever become a university student and a huge glass office table that shined in the artificial light, two flat screen monitors saddled carefully upon it, along with a big, half-ripped box with the word ‘Entrants’ written on in felt tip which looked out of place. Besides it was a tray, a lot slimmer, filled with pieces of paper with the same formatting, both contained random pictures of teenagers.

“How’s your mother, Sagara?” the woman asked, making a quick effort to clear up what she could off the desk.

“Still awesome,” he replied casually, looking to the huge plasma screen plastered against the wall.

“Good good. This won’t take long.” Natoko noticed there was no real gap between the two subjects there. “I figured I’d get you registered while you’re here and not horribly lost on the day. I’ll just need you to sign a waiver and you’ll be entered for the competition officially.”

“This is the tournament place?” Natoko said by accident, half distracted by trying to figure out what the smell was. It wasn’t bad in particular. In fact it smelled quite fresh, rosy. It was just out of place. She noticed her mistake when she saw the woman staring at her like she had just insulted her long dead grandmother. Natoko felt a huge urge to apologise.

“This is where the participants for the competition are registered. We’re not in the InBetween Realm anymore.”

“Ah, sorry.” She felt herself blush. She shouldn’t anger this woman. She was clearly very important for the competition.

Sakimoto Yuya CEO

Her eyes fell upon the name plate that was positioned carefully upon the glass desk. It was made out of the same material as the desk, and many rainbows within it as the light bounced from those above.

A CEO? Suddenly Natoko found herself straightening up as much as she could while tipping her head as far forwards as  possible without looking too obvious.

“She’s entering too,” Sagara said, as relaxed as ever, his hand scrolling left to right across the page as he signed his name with a clean composed English hand that looked like it could have been printed from a computer. Sakimoto Yuya said nothing as she passed another form to Natoko. Part of Natoko wanted to read it, her common sense telling her it was important to make sure she knew what she was getting into with this tournament, but she was already keeping them, and dropped the characters of her name down as soon as she got the pen off Sagara.

“Have you made accommodation arrangements?” the CEO asked. For some reason she looked to Natoko for the answer to this question, and Natoko wanted to smile in knowing that the woman knew Sagara wouldn’t be able to answer.

“We have two rooms at the Light Flower Inn,” Natoko replied in the most respectful tone she could.

“No, no that won’t do,” Sakimoto Yuya said, glancing over the documents and adding her own long wavy signature to the papers. “I’ll arrange for you to have a room at the Scarlet. It is the city’s finest hotel. You’ve probably gotten tired of sleeping around on futons and other low beds.”

“I am pretty tired,” Sagara told her. “But mom did say I was supposed to be doing this on my own. I can’t accept any help from members of the clan.”

“Then how about this,” the lady responded. “I will book you a room in the name of your retainer, and if you just happen to be invited by her to sleep there for the night, then that would be acceptable, would it not?”

Sagara thought about it for the whole of two seconds, with the first one point five being to log back in. “I don’t see why not.”

“Is that okay with you, Yamanaka-kun?” the woman asked. Natoko beamed with happiness and pride. The woman called her ‘retainer’. To think it could be spotted already. She must be getting things right if people could tell at a glance. She nodded with delight, and the woman settled the simple matter of the room the two would be sharing minutes later with a phone call.

***

 

“On the floor,” Natoko stated monotonously, pointing to the dark blue carpet beneath them.

“But the bed’s big enough for both of us.”

How did she not notice this?

“On the floor,” she repeated, same tone as last time.

Did the woman notice this? Was she expecting this?

“What’s the big deal of sleeping in the same bed?”

“On the floor.” Her right cheek started to twitch. He apparently didn’t notice.

“It’s cold though. Oh, and if we sleep together we can keep each other warm.”

“On the floor!” she finally shouted, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tossing him there. Too tired to argue any longer, she viewed force as being the only thing he would really listen to. “I’m not sleeping in the same bed as a man. It was bad enough the way the clerk looked at us. I don’t want the cleaner coming in tomorrow morning and finding us-” she paused for a second, the thought entering her head unburdened. “Just no.”

“Alright,” Sagara replied like a scolded dog, laying down on the floor and pulling the blanket over himself. He faced away for her, and the girl couldn’t tell if he had done it on purpose or not. Sighing, she lay down on top of the bed covers, not wanting to ruffle the only clothes she brought with her. She flipped the light switch, plunging them into darkness.

It was peaceful for a moment, finally peaceful. After the hectic three hours they had just had… No, beyond that, it felt more peaceful than she had ever had. No loud streets running away from crazed lynch mobs. No residents bounding through the halls of the dorm at the late hours, laughing and shouting about things that seemed pointless. No tension of her mother coming in through the door to wake her up at any moment. Just tranquility. It seemed strange that it was a public hotel that could bring this feeling of relaxation into her heart. The loneliness of the hotel room made her feel that she could take as big a deep breath as she wanted, and then come back and ask for more.

The peace was nice. The chaos was nice too, in its own way. But the peace has its own unique feel good, a bed fit for a queen being one of them.

She heard him breath heavily, intentionally, still awake, probably far too awake after all that had happened. She couldn’t entirely blame him. He was always bursting full of energy that to just cut it off like that was like pulling the handbrake of an aeroplane.

Who was Sagara anyway?

The thought crossed her mind almost randomly, but she felt it had been there for a while now. She knew really. He was too simple for her not to have figured most of him out already, but there were the gaps that didn’t make sense even when he sat down and talked about them. There was this Enforcer of the Balance stuff, but that was still too obscure. And the way that woman had responded to him, like he was a noble of some kind. A dignitary from a foreign land to whom the highest luxuries should be placed upon without hesitation. The woman herself was a ruler after all. Sagara must have some power to be treated like that by her.

He didn’t exactly act like a prince, although he did seem carefree; the rich pampered brat type in his own way. Though at times she could swear he wasn’t aware of it.

***

There was a clutter and a bang outside the door. It was enough to wake him up. Slowly, the ninja rose from his slumber. It was three in the morning, though Sagara wouldn’t see the clock.

Somebody outside walked into a wall and released a small cry. Their voice was suddenly silenced, though they didn’t realise it.

“I have a visitor” he mumbled waking up, opening the door. “I’m just going to go see her.” Outside, the hallway was silent and filled with darkness, showing some fool had forgotten to turn the light bulbs on. Everybody else in the hotel was obviously asleep, ready for whatever toils would happen in the morning, and so not a single soul stirred as the boy stepped over the depressing mass of broken and bloodied bodies lay strewn across the passageway, their insides laying neatly on top of them in disfigured piles, their blood thrown against the wall the way an angry angst artist would with paint.

From the looks of their clothing, they were to be the late night staff of the hotel, except one person, who had been known as a man from three doors down that had grunted at Sagara and Natoko as their way up to the room. He was still dressed in his white dressing gown that they had seen him in, though was now stained a dark crimson. Natoko’s discarded remains stared at her, who eyes wide and accusing.

Looking down at the corpse, their bodies arranged in the pattern to match the symbol of Ramuhnadin, Sagara stepped over them coughing morning phlegm out of his lungs and headed for the upstairs stairway, the obvious place to go for some reason in the mind of the ninja. On the stairway, things were also going badly for businessmen and chambermaids. Covering the entire area, including the wall, stairs, handrail and even the bloody corpses, with a stench of decay where swarms of insects tick and buzzed to themselves as they slowly devoured the corpses that lay festering beneath them.

Nicknamed Cthulu insects, they looked like beetles and had a mass of tentacles streaming from their mouths. None of them were flying and all of them were ignoring all sentient entities in the area. In fact, they were ignoring everything except the dead, who had their full attention as they covered them with putrid bodies. The Cthulu insects didn’t eat corpses, but they viewed dead bodies the same way German tourists viewed already overcrowded beaches and did their best to cover every nanometre of the long corridor.

Sagara walked over them, the critters sliding across what they had to avoid his bare feet, splitting his path as he walked through them. Underneath the slimy critters was a crusty shade of brown that crunched as he stepped on it, leaving the impression of drying paint. Were he to look back, he would see that it had cracked slightly, allowing a torrent of the beetles to swarm out of it.

He made his way up the next five floors to the roof of the hotel, his mind guided by an impulsive curiosity impossible to reduce. It was only at the last corner where he got to see the screaming woman. She appeared as a impressively overweight cleaning lady, currently covered in insects and shrieking in pain as they swarmed over her skin. Pounding and kicking, she desperately tried to open the door as the bugs made their way into her flesh.

“Oh god, get them off me. Please get them off me,” she screamed, begging to anyone willing to listen. Using the last of her energies to pound on the door in a hope to escape. That was the main problem with Cthulu demon bugs, their very presence was probably burning the woman’s skin, each of their six legs attacking her nervous system directly, sending her into agony worse than any sanitation job could. As he reached her, the door finally gave in, breaking under her constant bashing, seconds before he would have been able to make a grab for her. Without waiting or even noticing him the woman ran outside onto the rooftop screaming right off the side of the building, the beetles probably now regretting latching to her insides as she fell to her death. Sagara scratched the back of his head and looked annoyed at the cold air.

Here, on the rooftop, there were no corpses, beetles or strange, crusty brown floor. There was the Mongalth demon body on the roof of the staircase directly above him, waiting for him to turn to see how close he was to it. He obliged, and the creature stared at him, its large, snaky tongue flickering out of its mouth as it examined its next prey, but nothing else of particular notice. Its body may have been a beetle’s, but from its head a giant snake, which wrapped round the beetle’s head and looked a little too tight..

“Ssssoooo carefree – Hunter,” the demon hissed as it spoke to him. The hissing was loud and distinct as it trailed off the creature’s forked tongue, as if it felt that if it didn’t hiss loud enough, people wouldn’t believe that it was a giant, murderous, demon snake. “Sssome would think… that you did not care about the human scum around chew. You did not even try to help… that fat sssooow over there.” Waving to the snake happily, Sagara greeted the demon.

“Hey Melissa,” he said to the hellspawn like an old friend met for drinks. “Could we keep it quick? I need to rest today.” The demon visibly paused, then slithered a few feet closer.

“Whhhat?” the snake-beetle stated, breathing into him as it did so. “What… iiis this Melissssa talk?”

“Your technique’s improved, hasn’t it?” he replied, kneeling down to look at some of the beetles that had followed him up the stairs. He allowed one to crawl onto his hand, before crushing it with his other palm. It left sticky remains, slowly pulsing between his closed fingers and dropped to the floor. He licked his fingers.

“But you kind of messed up. I can’t smell blood. I can’t smell the insects, and this tastes of strawberries.” He eyed the goo suspiciously for a moment, looking unsure whether to toss it or try some more.

The ‘Melissa’ demon hissed at this. Sagara just smiled as the hiss came out stuttered, “I..Wwwwwe don’t know what yyyyou’re talking about. We killed those peoplessss, ripped them apart and fed them to our babiessss.” If a verbal hiss could be measured on a scale, and that would just be stupid and a precious waste of science points that could have been spent on gravity manipulation, then this hiss felt stronger than ever, the snake angered and insulted, ready to perform multiple lacerations upon Sagara’s pretty face.

“But Mongalth demons don’t consider the Cthulu beetles they use as their babies, Melissa,” he said, interrupting her. “They hypnotise beetles, not give birth to them. If you’re looking for an excuse to fight, you should just ask. You know I’ll say yes.” From his left arm, the small metal band of Draynor appeared, sliding liquid metal across his fist to form the gauntlet.

“Heh,” the creature muttered, the hissing now gone, its tongue flicking out and covering the gap before them at great speed, so even Sagara was mildly surprised when he found he could no longer move his left arm. “Fool,” it said in perfect, unrestricted by snake tongue English. “You fell for it so easily!” The giant snake closed its eyes, seeming to focus for a second, its long, slimy tongue glowing black for a few seconds.

The black energy turned to ashen rays that traveled from the monster to Sagara’s left fist spiraling around her tongue like an electric conduit. The gauntlet glowed red as the heat soared to unbearable levels.

“You’re such a fool, Sagara,” the demon said, the voice sounding less snaky and more squeaky. “The whole insect illusion was just a trick to get a rise out of you. I knew you would reveal the Draynor to threaten me. How do you like my new technique? It emits an electric shock straight through the bodies of demons, just like your gauntlet. And since Draynor’s made out of metal, you should be feeling quite unpleasant as well.”

Sagara stayed quiet, looking ahead like she was a sociology lecturer talking about the differences between ‘mature’ people and the elderly.

“Once more should do it,” and she began to laugh loudly, maniacally, repeating her technique as the yellow glow beamed through the tongue once again. “I finally beat you, Sagara.”

“Ehhh, so you hid your whip as the demon’s tongue. Cool.” Grabbing hold of the demon’s tongue with both hands, he yanked the tongue hard, pulling it towards him. The Monglath watched motionlessly as its mouth gave birth to a fully-grown, seventeen year old white girl who, completely surprised by the course of actions, crashed hard into the concrete roof nine feet below her on the floor, rolled with her momentum to turn the fall into a safe one and promptly landed right into Sagara’s fist as she did so.

Coughing with the sudden escape of air, the girl simply fell onto him, knocked cold as her body knocked her reset button.For a few minutes, the roof was silent of all but the wind.

With a sigh, the boy hoisted the girl up, before resting her onto the floor, looking half tempted to throw her off the side and just go back to bed.

“I’m tired,” he muttered to himself. “And half-naked too. It’s cold up here.” He looked around for something to help keep him warm, not wanting to take the girl back to his room. Seeing nothing else, he opted to take off her jacket, leaving the girl only in a lightly armoured vest. The cotton top was baggy, mainly to hold her equipment, so he was able to wrap into it easily, even though he was much bigger in build than her. Looking towards the unconscious girl, he examined her carefully.

“Hi Melissa,” he shouted, kicking the girl. “Wake up. You’re not allowed to sleep if I’m not remember?” Roughing her up eased her back into consciousness and the bleach hairjob girl awoke with various mumbles, as if she had been sleeping naturally, before realizing with a jolt where she was, using the energy to stand up.

“Ah crap,” she cried out. “I lost again?” She kicked the ground and watched several small pebbles fly off the forty story building. The stones were probably unaware of their potential power when thrown off tall buildings, but about to find out.

“Yep,” Sagara answered unmercifully. “Badly too.”

“But how?” the girl asked, her slim body shivering in the wind as it noticed it had been robbed of her tight jacket, causing her combat trousers to rattle with all the metal in them.

“You’ve died your hair blond,” Sagara replied instead. This was a true statement.

“Sagara,” she said, pouting. “Admire me later. Tell me where I went wrong.” She took a second to try and make a cute yet annoyed expression and failed instantly, looking like someone who had just accidentally killed their entire family with a blunt dinner knife.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked her raising both his arms in front of her and holding them there. “Take a moment to think about it.” Staring, the girl checked each hand, taking a moment to sniff the two pieces of flesh being dangled in front of her, but with a shrug of her shoulder showed that she didn’t understand.

“You grabbed the wrong hand with your attack.”

“Huh, but I grabbed Draynor.” She protested for a second before stopping. Sagara watched for a second as Melissa held up her own two hands and seemed to be weighing them “How?”

“King’s curse,” he said casually.

“Draynor was to my right, which means… Damn it.” She hit her hand across her head. “I got the wrong hand. You used an illusion. You used my illusion!”

“Right, Draynor can only manifest on my right hand. If it came on my left hand, my thumb would get chopped off.” To prove his point, the gauntlet faded on as if it had always been there. The weapon shone in the moonlight, the talons surrounding the wrist glistening. The girl stamped her foot against the floor.

“Aw man, I screwed it up again. I totally suck.” The girl continued her little temper tantrum against the roof of the hotel. Sagara just smiled.

“Yes, yes you do,” he said, agreeing with the deranged girl. “Now, what are you doing here?” The girl stopped her argument with the floor and turned smiling.

“I came here to see my lovely little Sagara, of course. I missed you, dear,” she said smiling, leaning up to hug him.

“No you didn’t,” he said unflinching.

“Your mom sent me here to watch over you,” she replied truthfully, looking away to the moon.

“Yeah, I guessed that too. You were hiding in Heavenly Springs before I even got there, just waiting for me.” Melissa involuntarily screamed wordless obscenities, not expecting it.

“How did you know?” she asked stuttering.

“Aki was complaining about her bananas going missing,” he explained, the grin on his face never wavering as he took the hug in. “Nobody else in that place eats them except for her, and sometimes they’re all you eat.” He yawned a little, his foot starting to etch patterns in the dirt of the ground, looking hopeful that Sleep would be merciful and sneak up behind him to knock him unconscious, hopefully without taking his stuff like last time.  “Plus. Eye of Futabatei. No hiding from me.”

“Dammit,” the girl cursed before sighing and letting her shoulders collapse, giving up on the attempt to kill him. “I have your updated mission statement for you,” she said plainly in a cut the crap attitude, pulling out a small sheet of paper written in a strange code that only she knew.

“Okay, cool,” he replied, releasing her from his grip so she could read off the sheet. Glancing over the fresh sheet of plain A4 paper, she quickly tucked it away, as if feeling it would be better if she explained in non-clinical terms.

“You came to Japan with an order to partake in the tournament being held by the Enlightened and Faithless of the InBetween Realm…”

“Yeah. I know all that. Got it all out of the way and everything. What’s next?”

“You should know what’s next, Sagara,” the girl chided him. “This is for your initiation.”

“But your job is to remind me… So, remind me.” The girl sighed heavily, continuing the debrief.

“In order to past your initiation, you have to enter the tournament and at least pass the preliminaries. This is to prove your physical capabilities. However, As you already know we’ve come across suspicions that a coven of demons are involved in this tournament. As a hunter and Enforcer’s heir, it’s your job to discover what’s happening and deal with the situation as you see fit. As your servant, I’m to assist you in whatever way your order.

“After that, I just have the same old reminders. Try to keep it secret of course and if you can’t, don’t do anything that’ll lead it back to us, and if it’s any of the higher types messing around, then definitely kill ‘em, leaving clear evidence that it was the clan that did it, unless there are humans around, of course.”

“Yeah, I know that bit,” Sagara said as he cut her off. “It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

“Oh yeah?” the girl rebuked. “You could have handled the water spirit a bit better.”

“Ah yes. That.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulder. “That was a slip. I don’t know why I did it.”

“You let a whole hotel of people know about the existence of demons! How could you ‘let that slip?’ And you never bothered with clean up. We are supposed to keep our profession a secret, you know? What do you think the Futabatei clan is? What do you think a ninja is? Your mom would be so pissed right now if she knew what you were doing.” He was still smiling, as she continued to step forward, pushing him to the back of the wall.

“Two of them are family,” he tried to explain, his face looking like it could be dejected. “Sarah’s probably going to get told when she’s older anyway. I couldn’t help it with two of them since one of them got possessed and the other seems to have such strange demon sensing ability, and the rest just don’t care. There’s no danger, the only one at risk is probably the little overweight girl. I thought she might become scared or something, but she seemed fine. ”

“Well good for her. She becomes all nice and brave, then one day she sees a demon in an alley and tries to tackle it herself. Then what?” Melissa shouted, grabbing him by her shirt collar and pulling him to her face, her eyes ablaze with the fury of the annoyed.

“Can we do this another time? I’m tired.” Sagara whined, yawning to prove a point.

“You can’t just ignore this. You’re supposed to be a ninja,” she said, dropping him and turning around. “Do some damn ninjaring already. Or sooner or later, this open nature of yours is going to bite you.”

“Sorry,” he replied, laughing nervously as ever, scratching the back of his head.

“The clan’s worried about you, you know?” she stated, keeping her face away from his gaze. “Not me, but the elders don’t want to see you screw up and wind up dead. Too much invested effort to have you mess up because you’re lazy.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry ‘lis,” he said sheepishly, not even realizing what he had said. She heard it perfectly and turned around, diving into his arms. It surprised him, and he found himself letting her hold him. He heard her breathe against his ear. There was a worry between her lips that was rare for her. He also realized how cold she was without her jacket on.

“This is dangerous, Sagara. Please, for once, just show that you care, just so I can tell properly for a change. Just so I can go about not having to wonder if you’re trying to die or not.” He felt her shiver against him and found himself resting his head on her shoulder. This was rare for her as well, he thought, her hair blowing into his face, the strands drifting across his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you really dyed it.”

Act Two – Chapter Two

“Okay,” he replied. “Should we head back and get it?”

“Are you…” she stopped as the head rush cleared all opposition in her head, survival instinct telling her that the answer would come in an unsavoury flavour. They needed to get away from here. Winning or losing weren’t options and would clearly result in either humiliations or a criminal record. “We need to get out of here.”

“We could probably escape down that way,” he said, indicating the street that led to a main road filled with occupants. “Are you okay to run?”

Three of the mature people, having politely taken to circling like vultures while the two discussed their options, headed to block the direction just suggested with their bodies. Sagara paused a moment, a second’s distraction as he jolted his legs one direction and went the other, picking Natoko up by the hand and dashing off in the where there was only a nervous looking accountant who had believed earlier that this was the place best suited to avoid direct confrontation. Sprinting passed her, the ninja dived into the dark shadows of an adjacent alleyway, the pitch-black shadows coating him instantly.

Glancing up for a quick second Natoko caught the bright light of the moon shining in the sky between the buildings that were the closest thing the village had to an industrial district. She felt hidden in the darkness of the alley where the moon couldn’t touch. Hidden from guilt she somehow felt the strength to continue. If she stayed hidden in the dark, her grandfather wouldn’t get angry for what she had done. That was what she told herself in those few seconds.

“How much time again?” Sagara asked, kicking up mud for her to jump out of the way of.

“Twelve…” She stopped mid sentence, not wanting to answer such necessary questions at a time of unreasonable mob lynching, then feeling the urge to finish off anyway. “…minutes.”

“Right,” he called out after two turns and a mere forty meters of buildings, sliding in his tracks and making her jump to the side to avoid running into him. “Stop!”

“What?” she asked, wondering why he had decided this was the best place for them to get severely wounded. Looking up for a few seconds, he grabbed her with no warning and jumped up to the fire escape of the building they were by. It wasn’t reasonably high, but he was still only able to grab hold of the bottom rung of the stairway connected to the building.

Understanding, Natoko was able to quickly climb over him, onto the stairway before helping him up. Sagara stopped her as she went to continue climbing up the stairs, instead motioning for her to watch as the mob chasing them caught up to where they just were and just stop. Natoko’s heart froze, wondering if the ones below had discovered their location, her eyes gradually adjusting to the near pitch-black situation. Beneath them, there were four different routes, the way they had come from, the way that was presumably the way out, and two others, that ran parallel through the buildings on each side, both ways going into further darkness. Only six of the original group seemed to have shown up, and they seemed to decide that safety wasn’t important in numbers, splitting up into two groups of three and running down the two side alleys.

“What?” Natoko said, almost forgetting to mumble. “Why didn’t they go that way?”

“Simple,” Sagara replied, his voice louder like she liked it. “They can’t see anyone in that direction.” Pointing, it was quite clear if anyone were running down that particular ally, his or her silhouettes would be seen. As they both jumped back down, Natoko couldn’t help but be a little impressed.

“That was smart,” she said. “First you distracted them, then you waited until you found a stairwell that was in a place where there were multiple directions.”

“Actually, I was just waiting for a place where it was dark enough. I am a ninja you know. Darkness is cool.”

“Oh… I see,” Natoko grumbled slightly, embarrassed for them both. In the background, she could hear one of the groups running, almost stomping down the dirt-ridden alleyway. The industrial estate was mostly full of abandoned business that had never quite picked up and weeds grew here more than any potential new ventures.

What was wrong with these people? They already seemed highly frustrated, looking for any excuse to start an incident on the street, but now they seemed intent on doing nothing but start incidents, like they were on a witch hunt and she was the perfectly innocent maiden who had grown better potatoes that year. She didn’t even know any of them, certainly not enough to be personally accused.

“Unfortunately, because it is dark, it shows there’s a problem,” Sagara said, apparently not showing the same concerns as she was. He appeared to start thinking about something, looking up a few times at the bright moon while he did so.

“What?”

“Come on,” Sagara said, jumping back down into the dirt of the alleyway and almost completely into darkness. Natoko found herself following him, subconsciously worrying about the state of her loose jeans. Landing, she found Sagara running in the direction of one of the darker areas of the alley.

“What? Where are you going?” she tried to scream, but found herself instinctively whispering. Thinking he might not have heard her, she ran off after him, catching up fairly quickly to ask him once more.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, sticking his arm out behind her and jumping up again. He ended up hanging off another stairwell and waited for Natoko to climb up again, only this time she tried to jump back down.

“Let go of me,” she said struggling. She didn’t care what was down this alley, she didn’t care at all. They should be heading back. She had forgotten her sword and would be useless without it. There were always other trains and if they going to be assaulted by the village elderly and frying pans then perhaps they were safer in their own beds anyway. Trying to pull his arm away from her waist to make him drop her, he responded by tightening his grip around her, with both his legs and remaining arm.

“Climb up now or we’re dead.”

The tone grabbed her like an order barked from a commanding officer. He looking down at her with those green eyes that were apparently special and she found herself glad to have something to obey, beginning to climb up and flipping back onto the stairwell where he immediately followed.

“Look,” he said, pointing about twenty meters ahead of him to the black shadows that covered the garbage alleyway. Leaning over the rail, Natoko glared forward to see what was ahead of them. Just through the fog of stench, she saw two of the elderly persons that had been chasing them, staggering back slowly as a giant, silhouette of a creature snarling loudly in front of them, the mere reverberation of its roar being enough to fell them.

Natoko swallowed hard as she looked on, seeing them now helpless as another figure became clear to her in the darkness. A strange odd looking fellow of a man in a fine tweed suit stepped closely behind the monster, far too close to be considered ignorant of the creature and far too calm to be anything but its accomplice.

The man looked like he was dressed for dinner, wearing a fine, almost polished suit that was only contrasted by his forehead, currently missing and having his brain bleed out all over his fine mustache and onto the floor, culminating into a pool under his long black cane. The gentlemen seemed blissfully ignorant of this as he stood stock still, and his face looked to be focused upon the two intruders’ to his domain, his wraith like companion also showing an interest.

“It’s…it’s a demon” Natoko stuttered, her fingers tightening around the guardrail.

“Yep. Demon. You’re right,” Sagara confirmed. It was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “You ready? If you’re going to be my servant retainer person, you’ll need to see if you’re up to fighting demons.”

“But…but,” Natoko began stuttering as she watched the monstrosity hovering above the gentleman.

“Or at least that’s what I’m told.”

She couldn’t help but be a little scared. The last time she was near a demon, it was inside of her. She had never actually had to face one before. And the previous demon was nothing like this either. And she didn’t have her sword? And how was she supposed to fight them anyway? The creature hovering above the finely dressed demon looked like it would treat her as fodder, brushing her aside like a stereotype thug in a cheap period drama. The man that it was with seemed even worse. Despite his brain hanging out of its container, it felt like it was the leader of the duo. Wasn’t it that type that was usually more powerful, taking out even the main character in one shot? Sagara looked to her in the dark, didn’t show if he noticed her discomfort or not, and just smiled.

“Come on then,” he said. “A warm up to the tournament.”

“This seems a lot more intense than a tournament,” Natoko argued, finding herself irritated at Sagara’s joking attitude.

“Then, if you pass this, the tournament should be a breeze,” he said simply, getting a weak grin out of her that felt forced even by her standards

“Anyway listen,” he continued. “This thing is a Dark Scourge, it’s a demon like you said. But the waiter is the real threat here.”

“And what’s the demon?”

Sagara paused. “He is the Dark Scourge.”

“Oh,” she replied, getting mixed up already. “And the wraith?”

“They’re both the Dark Scourge. They’re both the same thing really. His shadow is just an illusion. Ignore it all the time.”

“What?” she said, looking back towards the monster with a mouth the size of her. “Are you sure?” He responded with a nod, not convincing her one bit. The shadow looked to be the stronger of the two, or at least the powerful, brutish flunky. Despite being a shadow, it was clearly not projected against anything, and seemed to exist in mid air. Their conversation was interrupted by one of the demon’s current victims.

“Back off, you stupid bastard!” the woman screamed, hand poised and ready to slap as the demon edged closer, its grotesque features looking more amused than anything else. The man besides her stood patiently, a kitchen knife held casually in his hand.

“You have to knock the waiter out with wood, okay?” Sagara said, ignoring the woman’s plight. He didn’t wait for a response. Dropping down into the fray, the ninja ran towards the apparent illusion and with adrenaline still soaking through Natoko’s veins she fell a few seconds behind, running before she had touched the bottom, and grabbing a plank wedged in a garbage pile. It wasn’t her Iziz, but she could use it like a bokuto wooden sword at least. She paced herself behind Sagara, hoping that he knew what he was doing.

Noticing him, the larger demon roared at Sagara, the bellow sounding more like a wheeze as the shadow darted towards him, its body flowing like a velvet curtain. Instead of running away, he ran towards it. If he was right, Natoko figured that he would run right through it and be able to charge at the demon himself. Launching itself the boy, he stared it directly in the face getting ready to-

“Whoa,” he called out, jumping out of the way. Natoko growled at the boy, cursing his stupidity as to not believe his own eyes. She watched the snake like shadow plunge in the direction where her lord once was, falling into the ground, sliding through it like water through cracks, as Sagara rolled to the side and out of harm’s way for a few brief seconds.

Deciding he can fend for himself, she looked over to where the bald man was currently shivering and ran at him. That then gave her a thought, her rationality overriding the current flow of her emotions. If this were a demon, then technically her ‘sword’ would be useless against. It might have been effective against a human who only had bone to protect them from the wood, but against a demon? What good would slamming a stick on its head do?

“You,” she said toward the old man, holding the wooden stick at him as if his life depended on it. “Give me your knife.” Turning his attention away from the fight, the man chose to spit at her instead, muttering as she swiftly dodged it and snatched the blade from his hand. She had no time to be polite now. Turning to face the leader demon, she saw it just standing there, observing the battle between Sagara and its shadow.

From where she was standing, the Dark Scourge did just look like a servant of sorts, propping itself on the ground as it waited for an order. This thought faded as she saw it start to move, now grinning lewdly as Sagara slipped, rushing onto a trashcan and propelling himself away from the creature with fantastic speed. With complete disregard for the creature following him, he got up again and ran towards the demon waiter like it was the only creature there. Seconds later though, the shadow was upon him again and he was once again forced to bolt back into the darkness to avoid its snare.

The gentlemen stopped, Natoko had noticed. Just for a second, the moment when Sagara was rushing at it, but it was a clear pause, a blind man’s bluff, now waiting for the next moment it had to strike. Sagara was right to an extent. This was the one looking to attack. This was the one that should be focused upon.

With all the noise Sagara was making, the creature wasn’t hearing her sneak up upon it. With the man’s knife in her hand, something that under normal circumstances she would have been scared to have known the old fool had, she stood right behind it, a slight adulation in her stomach that she could be this close to someone without them noticing, before grabbing its neck and slicing the fine blade across it, surprising herself as a torrent of blood ejaculated from the creature.

Howling in agony, the demon growled ferociously at the samurai, its screams cursing with spit and bile as the head turned without the help of the neck, forcing her step back with a gasp, the knife dropping from her fingers as the creature’s upturned eyes injected fear into her heart. She trembled. Here in front of her was a true monster, its body contorted to a pattern that no human could take, its eyes drinking in her body but empty forever. If Yamanaka Natoko had any doubt that demons existed left, they were removed in that instance.

She stepped back a meter or so, to see the demon’s shadow jump up from behind its partner, snarling as they both looked her in the eyes. She futilely tried to stare at both and found herself shivering as the two others had, petrified as they were, the creature licking its lips. Her resolve gone like it was never there, the creature dived down upon her. She closed her eyes.

In a way, she found it a real shame that nothing happened. Feeling her anticipation leave her, she opened her eyes, only to find Sagara standing there in front of her, moonlight bathing the alley, standing next to someone who had an old rag over their head.

“I told you to use the wood,” Sagara pointed out like he wasn’t sure whether or not he need to explain what wood was. “This would have worked a lot quicker if you had.”

“Wha- what’s going on?” Natoko asked, confused as to how everything had calmed down, to the point where Sagara was now stretching casually. He seemed a lot brighter than usual as he walked up to the elderly man.

“Can I borrow your knife?” he asked politely, not waiting for an answer, turning around to pick it up. The demon was gone. Both of them actually. Now she could see the entire alley without problems, litter gathering by every wall, seeing the elderly people standing around like nothing had happened. The strangest thing she could see though was the rag hovering in front of her. It was incredibly dirty and Natoko could smell it from where she was standing, a mixture of sewage works and ten year old mold. Gasping, her brain made the connection, realising what the rag was covering.

“The demon is under there?” she asked, astonished by the absurdity of the situation.

“Yup. Mom says Dark Scourge are kind of like horses. If he can’t see, he’ll just stop moving.”

“But, what about the other demon?” asked Natoko inquisitively, looking around. The shadow creature was now gone, as if someone had flicked a light in the room.

“Like I said, there was no other demon,” Sagara said simply.

“But earlier you said there was,” Natoko complained. She rolled this over her tongue again. “But you also said there wasn’t…”

“Yeah, I did both,” Sagara stood there like there was nothing more to say. Natoko evaded subtlety and went straight for the bluntness.

“Could you please explain?”

“Sure, though I still need to finish this guy off,” he said, reaching under the old piece of carpet as he felt around for something. “Dark Scourges are creatures of shadow that serve the False Balance. Like all demons, they have to possess someone or something in order to exist on this side of the InBetween Realm, but once they do, they can make a few changes to the item they’ve possessed. In this case, they allow their true form to exist in the item’s shadow. But with the shadow hidden under the cloth, it can’t wander about. Then the horse thing also applies.”

Natoko failed to understand any of this, like he had tried to teach her complex maths by standing on his head and rotating backwards. He continued. “This creature had some weird beliefs according to what I’ve been told. One of the main ones is that light and dark should be balanced. Whenever it is light, there should be no darkness, whenever it is dark, there should be no light. These guys try to help ensure that, by spreading the darkness around. Wherever these guys are, there will be darkness, even when there’s not supposed to be. Now that he’s covered up, we can see better.”

“So that’s why the alley was pitch black despite the moon,” Natoko mumbled, understanding at least that much.

“Exactly, but it’s a clear violation of the Balance. Not to mention he shouldn’t be on earth at all. These guys have a habit of coming here and making places that should be light, like this alley, dark during the full moon.”

“Well, what’s the problem with that?” the girl asked as the game of twenty questions continued.

“Well, there’s also the tendency to, while they’re here, rape and kill any males they come across.” He moved up behind the sleeping demon, the knife rotating in his hands. “Although, even without that, it’s just simply not right. If demons exist on earth, humans lose their free will, so they have to go. Even this illusion is damaging.”

“So it was an illusion?” Natoko repeated, trying to keep off baffled and at least stay on slightly perplexed but slowly getting it. “But I heard it growl.”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit more complex than a basic illusion,” he continued. “It’s created to affect and trick four of the major senses. You can see, hear, smell and taste it in every way, so it appears real, but it’s fake. With my eyes, I can sense that it’s not real. It looks semi-transparent to me, but my other senses still got freaked out, hence why I thought it was real for that one moment.”

“So… how did you stop it?” Natoko asked, trying her best to ignore the fact that, even now, in a situation where it could escape at any moment and continue to attack them, Sagara was still tranquil and calm, as if he had a line of morphine constantly pumping into him.

“Because,” Sagara said, now fiddling underneath the old, smelly carpet like he was trying to find something, “of the exact same reason you can be tricked in the first place. You may be able to see it, hear it, smell it like there really is something there, even though there isn’t. But one thing you shouldn’t be able to do is taste the demon. You probably have a lingering effect even now on your tongue, kind of like vomit mixed in with raw sewage and a hint of strawberry?”

“Erm, now that you mention it.” Although she didn’t know what the recipe tasted like, she figured she got the free sample.

“However, the taste shouldn’t be there. Dark Scourges are too savage you see, so they’re not that smart, hence why right now it’s assuming that it’s asleep because it can’t see. It can normally see in pitch black perfectly, but since the rag’s preventing it, it assumes it’s gone to sleep. The same applies with the illusion. Dark Scourges can taste things from a distance away, so it assumes that humans can as well, so it adds that to the illusion. Since we can’t taste things from a distance, you can make yourself snap out of the illusion if you make your body realise this. Understand?”

“I guess, but all so they can rape someone?” said Natoko, still on the last page. “And why males?”

“Well that’s the easiest bit to answer,” he said, turning the demon around. “It’s because they’re evil. “As with all demons, they generally exists to cause bad things to happen. Its reasons don’t apply to our logic. It’s why we have all these folklore and myths and legends and religions that have been made up along the way to warn us that these things are generally not nice things that we, as good citizens of earth, should try to avoid them and not raise from the depths of hell using small cute sheep. Understood?”

“Um, I guess,” replied Natoko, annoyed not so much at what felt like a condescending tone, but more the jumps in logic that he was expecting her to make with him. She carried on watching him tear a small hole in the dirty old carpet currently covering the fearsome ‘Dark Scourge,’ ripping it up to reveal the back of the demon’s rather expensive suit. Without a care for such well-tailored goods, Sagara began to rudely stab the Scourge in the back where the hole was made, black bile first trickling and then spraying out through the gap, Natoko and the two elderly persons watching the amateur surgery session with morbid fascination, slowly becoming aware of a tune that Sagara was whistling rather badly.

“Breaking a possession of the kotodama on humans is a little harder than it is items. If you don’t have special methods like I did with you, though I suppose you were also still alive, then you have to destroy most of the organs.” Judging the hole he had made, Sagara bent down a little further before jamming the knife straight through the creature’s belly, his hand twisting and traveling through the corpse, apparently traveling upwards, keeping a firm grip on the top of the rag to prevent it from falling off.

She felt like saying something. It felt almost cruel to kill it off like this, despite its murderous intentions earlier. Was this what a demon hunting ninja was? It felt like it would be more childish, more heroic. Standing up and stepping well back, Sagara watched, as the demon, still underneath the carpet, began to convulse within the cotton confines, falling to the floor and rolling in a circle, gurgling and sizzling as its flesh began to burn off from the inside. A simple moment later, there was just the rag and the smell of sewage.

The place felt empty now, like a party where everyone had left at the same time and yet. The old people in the alleyway with them still weren’t saying anything. Nor did they look as shocked as she probably did.

“Though why was it here? It didn’t look a wild type.” Sagara paced round the alleyway for a few moments, looking at doors and dustbins. “So it would have had a reason for being here, and therefore-”

Resting for a moment and ignoring Sagara’s jabbering. Part of her wanted to display more interest. Who knows what small subtleties may be used in tracking demons, but another part was more concerned that Sagara was on the verge of routing through trashcans that probably had very little to do with a creature with a freshly pressed tweed jacket.

“How far away is it to the city again?” Sagara asked out of the blue.

“Argh,” Natoko called out, reality piercing her with its incessant timekeeping. “The train. I think it’s safe to say we’ve missed it. Though if we still hurry we could perhaps-”

“Uh huh, how many miles?” he asked again before she could finish the first answer.

“About ten, I think, maybe between fifteen.” She had no idea. Trains were for sleeping or playing cards, nor calculating distances. There was no middle ground.

“And it’s in that direction right?” Sagara pointed towards a solid brick wall with only one door and Natoko nodded hesitantly. If he intended to sprint, the first three seconds should at least prove amusing.

“This way!” a voice snapped down the alleyway. “We’ve found them!”

Natoko darted back to standing up. She almost said ‘oh no, more old people,’ but was stopped as Sagara started banging around behind her. She only got time to notice around eight or so mobster old people were slowly crowding around them, screaming and shouting as loud as they could, before it became clear that Sagara was kicking the back door of someone’s apartment in. She went to protest, but the glints of metal that bounced off moonlight from the approaching darkness told her he might have the right idea.

Rushing to help, the door swung open as Sagara tried the handle for the first time, and the two dove in with hopes they weren’t seen. On the other side of the mahogany oak was a long passageway, with cream tiles littering a pattern on the floor and white walls in need of repainting. Seeing the door at the opposite end of the corridor, Natoko let her legs follow as Sagara took off, the door slamming shut behind her.

“Should we have stayed?” Natoko gasped before sprints. “Maybe we could have done something.”

“Mom always told me not to kill humans unless I really want to.”

“I didn’t-” Natoko short circuited a little. “I meant try to explain our situation. Running makes us look more guilty.”

“True. But still less likely to be stabbed.”

“I really wish I could argue with that.”

They reached the door, Sagara pulling it open and zipping round like he was grinding the floor, running backwards to hold it open long enough for her to come through. Expecting fresh air, Natoko paused a second as she came into another corridor, her dash continuing as Sagara shot past her.

Almost galloping, she looked behind her, the crowd was definitely not following them. She turned round to run again, this time a little less, extreme sprinting not being her forte as much as it was apparently Sagara’s, so it took her a little longer to reach the front door to the building.

And then even longer.

Reaching the next door, Sagara zipped round again, his stamina inexhaustible as the three second slow down to get through the  frame caused Natoko to desire rest. She could continue, but a three hundred meter sprint wasn’t her thing and-

With a sudden jolt Natoko’s brain went into emergency stop procedures, as the instructor to her left side called out to stop, and she slammed down on her legs on the empty path for no reason.

There was certainly no need to stop.

Sagara was certainly still running down the corridor.

She looked behind her.

About fifty meters of corridor? She was no good at actual measurements, just random guesses that felt right, but even so, it was still pretty long.

She looked ahead of her.

The next corridor was about the same length.

“How long is this building?” she muttered as Sagara barely noticed her flight had stopped. Had they broke into the local hospital? No, the village didn’t have anything like that. The industrial complex was tiny when it came to it, one block being at most the length one of these corridors.

But even in a hospital, no one corridor should go on this long.

“Just keep running,” Sagara insisted. “Oh, and keep your eyes closed. You’re not really allowed to see this place.”

“What?” Despite the waves of deep pressure building inside her, telling her something was wrong, something was out of place, she continued unabated down the next length of corridor, desperately trying hard not to look to surprised as another long stretch of corridor was revealed, then another and another. Natoko swallowed hard as she began hoping if Sagara knew where he was going and what he was doing. She barely had time to think as her brain focused on keeping up with him. A retainer should stay with their master at all times, she thought, even if that meant traveling in a straight line through an impossibly long corridor. Now that she thought, she couldn’t see any other doors save the ones they were going through.

Sagara slowed down a bit for her.

Five corridors later, and a door popped out on the side of the final corridor. Sagara came to a slow stop, his breath only minimally ragged at the long distance run. She’d really have to take up running if she was going to follow this guy. Running this much was never necessary before her life was invaded by harsher realities than Iaido practice and Nazi music teachers.

“Geez… thought it never… ended,” she wheezed, Sagara opening the side door.

“Doesn’t,” he said simply, turning through, revealing another long walkway.

“Ah dammit!” she slipped, her legs trying to push her forwards. With one last look to the side, she saw that the other corridor still hadn’t ended either and she began mentally cursing whatever this fate was that had happened to be picked out of the lucky dip this week.

Two corridors later and another turn Sagara seemed to finally stop for good. The air was different here, she thought to herself, realising it could just be her body trying to shut down.

Sagara turned to another door, swinging it open to provide Natoko with even more confusion.

Act Two – Chapter One

Five days had conveniently passed since the epically proportioned fight by the Hot Springs under the midday sun. The day was Friday, and with the evening time approaching the burning ball of heat fell back behind the edge of existence, once again failing to incinerate them all, its currently leased light expired for the day.

With everyone having returned from whatever it was they did during those hours not spent in the dormitory, the residents had chosen to treat the sun setting with a celebratory dive in the Hot Springs, commemorating another day having survived the wrath of the Sun God and relaxing in the cool bath waters that would kill them all given half the chance and a kilogram of sentience. New members had been introduced to the cast at this point, the first and only of these being Setsuna, a young, slightly overweight woman from Nara of around the age of twenty. All who ever met Setsuna had considered her to be a nice girl, but this was mainly due to the fear that the girl had the power to instill in anyone she met. No one knew why, but they always felt like terrible things would happen to them if they ever said anything wrong about her, especially about her left shoulder blade.

The only person who wasn’t outside at this moment of relative importance was Gen, who had kicked everybody out of the dormitory so he and the cheapest hired help he could find could do a complete clean up of the building before everyone came back in and messed it up again.

Sagara and Natoko were training.

For these two, this is what half of their days had been like since the very short time they had become bestest best friends. Natoko, it can be assumed, had school during the day and Sagara was busy mastering the art of pretending to do the work he had agreed to do for the sake of rent whilst in fact being incredibly lazy and sitting by the television. The evening was now the only real time they had to come home and try to hit each other.

Their basic sparring had been going on for about ten minutes non-stop, with each pushing the other back in a reciprocating wave of practice. The unofficial match was about to reach its climax with the winner being a mysterious third entity, when a small watch started to beep.

“Right, that’s enough for today then,” Natoko panted, relaxing her stance as she turned the device off. Exhaling heavily, her lungs trying to catch as much air as possible, the newly appointed samurai fell to one knee. She was exhausted, despite her movements being much smaller than Sagara’s over the top acrobatic fighting, she had tired a lot faster than he had. It was beginning to dawn on her that changing her fighting style to something more realistic was probably not a good idea when she only had a day left to master it.

Sagara was a little disappointed when the watch had gone off, but the others had insisted that he stop overdoing it so that he wouldn’t be found in various obscure places around the dorms sleeping it off later. With the sparring having gone on for around two hours now, with only a few small breaks in between to discuss tactics, all knew that if they didn’t stop him now it would only lead to sweat stained floorboards later.

Sagara wasn’t actually any good at discussing tactics, Natoko had pointed out a few times, and could never seem to describe any idea pass the concept of hitting her in various body parts. On the other hand, he showed signs of constant, bright new ideas that would just spring out of him at any time and usually knock her down to the ground. And since she would often miss what he did due to being hit by it, she had to stop him as soon as possible unless he forget what he actually did. Natoko was able to catch him out as well, though her tactics often required her stopping to think about it, but that was what sparring was all about in her opinion. A chance to think up and try out new ideas.

Unfortunately, Sagara didn’t understand this at all.

Now, her real blade staying at her waist, Natoko had chosen to spar with a wooden sword to prevent injury. However, the blunt blade appeared pointless to the one she was fighting against, and he was treating it more like an ineffectual club, showing no hesitation of letting it touch him when she delivered a small stroke. He had even grabbed it a few times and used the stick to pull her towards him, ignoring the horrible mutilation that would occur if it was a real sword, as well as her complaints afterwards.

“Awww,” Sagara whined, disappointed and unconsciously rubbing his knuckles as he too dropped his guard. If he was aching all over as well, he didn’t seem to mind as much. “You know, you should stick to what you were doing earlier, when you kept your sword in the sheath all the time. You were faster then.”

“It is less… practical,” she commented, pulling her sword in and out of its sheath as fast as she could. “If I get surprised, it’ll get jammed and I won’t be able to pull it out in time. Kendo will do for now.”

“Come on,” he said, taking a step back, his legs already bouncing on the spot. “Let’s just try it. I wanna see if I can dodge.”

“Please sire-” she pleaded.

“Sagara…” Sagara insisted. “And you complained when I got your name wrong.”

“Sagara…” she continued, maintaining a calm composure in front of an urge to scream at him. “We need to head out soon, remember? I suggest that we rest up for a short while and then be prepared to move out.”

“Okay,” Sagara agreed far too easily, dropping his form. “I suppose we can do a rest.”

“A rest?” Fujiko shouted from the spring, grabbing their attention. “You two should go into comas the amount of time you’ve been doing that. Get lives already!”

“A dip in the Hot Springs would be just as good,” he said, pointing towards where the girls were resting, before skipping towards his intended destination, any signs of exhaustion now gone, the anticipation of his beloved Hot Spring taking all the fatigue away. A hand appeared in front of him magically. It was connected to Otsune, who clambered over the rocks hastily as soon as she heard his words.

“Hold it,” she exclaimed, a cross look on her face. “We’ve already been over this, Sagara. You’re not allowed in here when any of the girls are in here.”

“Aw…but…hot spring,” he whined, as if this would be enough to win over Otsune’s firm decision.

“No,” Otsune shouted, sick of going over the same ineffective conversation that she had suffered over the past three days. “If Gen’s not allowed in when we’re in, you shouldn’t be either. Why don’t you even begin to understand this?”

“Well, why don’t you just let Gen in as well?” he suggested with a sheepish grin. “Then we could have a big Hot Spring party.” Empathising his suggestion by spreading his arms out wide, Otsune responded with a glare that told Sagara his suggestions weren’t welcomed.

“But Otsune,” Sarah said, jumping to her cousin’s defense. “It’s alright to let him in, he just wants to relax like the rest of us, and we’re all wearing our costumes anyway.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Otsune said, getting angry now, still not understanding why her view of modesty was so alien to those around her. “He’s male, we’re female. If we allow a guy to bathe at the same time as us, and someone hears about it, we’ll have everyone in the village on the doorstep with burning torches. And, if some of you haven’t noticed already, there are some of us may not be comfortable with it either.”

“I’m fine with it,” Fujiko said, raising a small cup of clear liquid in the air.

“Me too,” Sarah said.

“And me,” said Aki.

Tina just blushed, ready to agree with everybody that they shouldn’t let him in, when they then all said the complete opposite of what she was expecting. Setsuna was asleep, and floated to the surface every so often, the possibility of her being dead significantly high.

Sakura just quietly stepped out to leave, knowing that if she said anything at this point the others would convince her to stay. The young girl found it far too embarrassing with Sagara just a few meters away from the spring. Even knowing that he didn’t see it as any big deal, though this too was confusing, it still felt a little weird to her.

“I don’t think it will be a problem, Otsune,” Natoko added, coming to the side of the springs, trying to comb her hair dry with a towel. “Sagara’s not the same as other boys his age. He’s not driven by his basic urges and wanton desires.”

“Oh really?” said Otsune, turning to look at the supposedly mature boy, who was currently staring in the direction of the springs where all the half naked girls were laying down, drooling slightly.

“Hot…hot springs,” he mumbled, reaching out with his hand to try and touch the water’s surface. “So close, yet an eternity away”

“It’s not the same wants and desires I agree,” Otsune said after a few second’s observation. “But you have to admit, he’s just plain weird.”

Natoko looked back to Otsune, with a small, worried smirk on her face.

“Oh fine, let him bathe with you then,” Otsune shouted, grabbing her glass of orange juice and heading for the door. “I won’t be here to suffer it. Just don’t come crying to me when a picture of you all serving a stranger in a pool gets distributed to every conservative freak in this town.”

“You can get in now, Sagara,” Fujiko cooed, snapping him out if his trance as the gate to the Changing rooms shut behind Otsune.

Sagara dived in without hesitation, either ignoring or not noticing the fact there he was still fully clothed, his training clothes still caked in sweat.

“Sagara!” a voice called out to him, causing the boy to shoot straight back out. He turned round to see his cousin Gen, who was currently facing away from him, the past few months having taught him the price for walking to a Hot Spring full of girls without first averting his eyes. “That show you wanted to watch is about to come on. Could you please sit on the towels until you’ve dried up?”

Sagara disappeared in a badly animated flash, this ‘show’ apparently being more important than his compulsive desire to bathe and Tina had to jump out of the way to avoid him. The girls looked on confused, and two of them found themselves leaving to find out what it was all about, Gen disappearing around the same time.

“What was that all about?” Otsune asked, finding herself wandering back a minute later, the threat of a male in a Hot Spring having been extinguished.

“No idea,” replied Fujiko dismissively, too lazy to follow herself. “Get back in already.” Having less reason to care about modesty, Natoko removed her sweat covered hakama before stepping in, keeping a firm grip on her blade, making sure the sheath didn’t get wet. Junko felt the urge to mention something about it, like the samurai had forgotten to take it from her hand like she would a sock on her foot. “You as well, Tina.”

“I- I’m fine, thanks,” the German girl replied, having chosen to sit on one of the rocks above the Hot Spring. Otsune saddled up besides her friend, dropping into the water slowly.

“I think it has something to do with a cartoon they watch around this time,” she said, sinking all the way down to blow bubbles out her mouth

“Oh? I thought Sagara didn’t like watching television,” Fujiko replied, moving over for Natoko to sit beside her.

“That was until he started to goof off all day. He’s strangely lazy for someone obsessed with fighting,” Otsune said, slipping back in. “Now, when he’s finished his chores, he tends to sucks information off of the education channels doing yet more training as he does so. Really messes up the floor.”

“He’s been watching the period dramas as well,” Natoko pointed out, cooing slightly as she let the water slip around her. “Or at least tries too. He always gets me into fighting him halfway through.”

“How is the training going anyway?” Fujiko asked her friend.

“Good I guess,” Natoko replied, sighing in response to the hot water as it closed in around her. “All we really have to do in refine our skills. I’m just worried that I won’t be able to use kendo before it begins.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to qualify for this tournament thing?” Fujiko asked curiously. She was in conversation mode, as Aki called it, and they had all learnt from past experience that it didn’t actually matter how she replied to Fujiko’s quick fire questions; the girl’s insatiable urge to fill the silence was all that mattered.

“Well, as long as I have that ticket he gave me, all I have to do to qualify is show up on the day… I think. He hasn’t actually told me much of anything.”

“So you two will become rivals as well as lovers,” Fujiko said casually, failing to change the tone of her voice and smiling as Natoko became more relaxed.

“It seems so,” replied Natoko, relaxing further into the spring, her eyes soon springing wide open. “Hey,” she shouted.

“What? You mean you two aren’t a couple yet?” the other girl said teasingly. “But it’s been four days and you’re already so close.” Natoko held in her anger, never finding herself on Fujiko’s tormenting side before, but knowing it would be letting the girl get her way if she shouted her disdain. Fujiko was the type that liked pushing her friend’s limit.

“Oh… I never knew. You’re so lucky, Natoko-san,” Setsuna replied, now awake and resurfacing. “Sagara-san would make a wonderful husband. He’s so caring and considerate.”

“Shut up,” the samurai shouted, failing to hold it in. “There’s nothing between us. We’re just helping each other train.”

“Oh, you believe that,” Fujiko replied grinning, letting it sink in as she took another sip from the small plate that contained her alcoholic beverage. “But what does he think?”

“What do you mean?” Natoko asked, pausing in her anger.

“Well, he did give you that ticket as a present. That tournament is apparently high class, even if it is for kids. You can’t even buy one of what you’re holding, I’ve looked on the ‘net. Don’t you think it means something if he’s showering you with rare and valuable gifts?”

“It-” Natoko stumbled. “It was merely an order, to enable me to be by his side, and in recognition of my skill.”

“And you’re following that order? Some feminist you are,” Fujiko slurred, the alcohol having taken full hold of her now. “Would you date him if he ordered you? Oh, would you slit your stomach?”

“I wish for all the world that you hadn’t heard the conversation between me and my master.”

“Yes, yes,” Fujiko replied with a happily dismissive tone. “It’s such a shame that our amazing ancestral samurai senses completely failed to detect when a glass is pressed against the other side of a wall and used as a listening device.”

“But really, Natoko,” Otsune began, doing her best to silence Natoko’s growl. “Declaring someone your master like that. It’s too weird. You wouldn’t see anyone do that nowadays.”

“Y-you think so?” Natoko stuttered, trying to pass it off with a smile.

“It’s like you’re actually trying to be some kind of actual samurai or something.”

“O-of course not.”

***

“I’ve prepared your bag for you, Sagara,” Natoko said, bowing as she handed it over to him. “Everything you should need for the next few days should be in there- though I couldn’t find your gauntlet anywhere.”

“Don’t worry about it, thanks,” Sagara replied taking it off her and heading for the doorway. It had started to get dark now and the cicada was chirping away peacefully in the surrounding hillside. “I won’t be using it anyway. Well, I won’t be allowed to anyway.”

“Very well,” she said, coughing nervously to herself as she looked to everyone else. “I have prepared the hotel reservations and train tickets. We should have forty five minutes to get to the train station from here on foot

“I wouldn’t mind getting something to eat on the way down,” the ninja said nonchalantly.

“Well, there is a nice-” Natoko cut herself off, glancing to the others as they started leering, “vending machine at the train station. We could get some snacks from there.”

“Excellent,” Sagara proclaimed, opening the door and sliding through it without any form of farewell to those that had come to see him off, leaving Natoko hesitant at following quickly after him.

“Well then,” she muttered. “I shall see you all tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Junko replied. “I thought you’d be gone for the weekend?”

“Aren’t you coming to watch?” asked Sakura, standing next to the background character. “I thought Aki got seven tickets from Sagara’s bag.”

“Ah, sorry, Junko,” Otsune butted in, clapping her hands to ask for forgiveness  from her friend. “I let Tina have the last ticket. I didn’t want to leave her on her own here.”

“You could have said!” the schoolgirl moaned.

“I know, but she’s been really sullen and I think she’s homesick, not to mention the whole perfume thing. I just think it’ll be good for her to get out and do stuff.” Junko sighed loudly, seeing the group staring at her in the process and straightening up.

“Fine,” she gave in. “I guess I would have found it boring anyway. Why any of you want to see idiots hitting each other is beyond me.”

“Because it’s fun” Aki announced happily, as Natoko took that moment to slip away, bowing one last time, with only Sarah watching her, a glum expression on the child’s face.

Taking the one hundred and eight steps down to the bottom of Heavenly Springs, Natoko met Sagara with a passive look before they both carried on walking. Keeping behind him, the samurai girl tried to look attentive to her surroundings, unsure of how she was supposed to act. It should have been obvious really. She had seen hundreds of shows depicting the style of a samurai, but with Sagara in front of her, she couldn’t tell if she was doing it right or not. It didn’t help that he wasn’t helping himself. Other than saying ‘thanks’ or ‘let’s fight’ every so often, the boy hadn’t done anything with her as regards to her being his retainer, and she was beginning to think that perhaps he wasn’t taking it as seriously as she wanted him to.

Though what had she been expecting? That everyday he would assign her with a new mission. That they would be engaging in street fights against punks who would threaten the innocent? Maybe even fighting demons in dark alleyways? No, even in a world where just days ago a water based demon had invaded her body and use it to perform strange magical powers there would not be action on a daily basis. Even in the cartoons whole months would pass between events where the warriors would train themselves in preparation. In that regard she had been doing things right.

But from what he had said, there was something going on within this tournament that he had entered the two of them into, something to do with demons. Admittedly he hadn’t gone into much detail with her and even consulting Gen hadn’t offered much more information. Did Sagara even have any more information?

“Not really,” he replied when she finally asked him. Expecting him to at little go over the little information he did had, Natoko waited in silence for a minute or so, soon realising that in his mind, the conversation was over.

“So shouldn’t we be getting information?” she asked eventually. He was a ninja after all, though she had yet to see him be sneaky in any way whatsoever, and information gathering was what ninja did best after sneaking into the castles of Feudal lords and assassinating visiting dignitaries.

“Maybe,” he replied. “We’ll have to see.”

Is that really the type of decisiveness that you should be having? Natoko thought to herself as the steep hill gradually declined to a level that didn’t kill her calves. Mind you, he had only entered Japan recently. It would have been difficult even for a super ninja to start getting information out of the surrounding lands. Whilst she was sure that, if this were a computer game, they would have already run into the mysterious entity that would have gave them a special item required to get the key for the next level, this wouldn’t be the case here. Sagara probably didn’t even know where the surrounding demons of this area hid.

Actually, just how many demons were around this area? So far she had only seen one (and been possessed by another) in her entire lifespan. Surely if there were many nearby there would have been other clear signs: torn fences, missing pets, people claiming to have seen mysterious events, only to be instantly refuted by their friends.

Just how many times had she ignored a ghost story when the person in front of her wasn’t crazy. The girls in class talked about them all the time, though only Aki seemed interested at home.

No, the girls in school were clearly just playing. They read far too many light novels and were engaged in talks about the latest mystery television show just as much as they thought poltergeists had been throwing rocks at them in the fields. She had to remain smart about this. Just because she now knew demons to exist didn’t mean she should start accepting Tanouki spirits and the American Bigfoot as fact. Natoko knew there were a lot of questions to be asked about this and she could feel her heart beating hard at the idea of being one of a few that knew about such an immense secret.

“Sagara,” she said, briefly under the impression that his mind was turned off. “About all these demons?”

“Yeah?”

“A lot of the residents were away last Sunday, so not many got to hear about all that happened,” she began, not entirely saying what she intended to say. “Can you… Would it be possible that you don’t bring it up to anybody? That it stays a secret with those few that already know?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just-” she almost panicked. “It’s just that we’ve all got a lot of problems anyway and I don’t think it’ll help if news of demons in the dormitory got out. It’ll be better if no one knows about it and talks about it even less. You understand?”

“Okay,” Sagara replied briskly. “I have to do that anyway. It’s a standard of the clan.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Mom says the presence of demons should be kept from the eyes of the mortal world as best as possible, for not only might humans been taken in by greed and lust, but they will for certain lose their own free will.’” He fell silent for a second, his gaze looking over the rooftops to the newly approaching moon. “Thinking about it, letting you humans find out might get me into some trouble. Protecting free will is supposed to be paramount.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation. She couldn’t help but think it was a bit too late to be considering it now.

Still, if it was kept between the eight or so people that knew already, that would be for the best for her. Now if only…

“Lot of people out tonight,” Sagara said casually, pricking Natoko’s ears. It was an unusual thing for him to say, for looking around Natoko couldn’t see anybody.

She stopped just short of bumping into a frail old man dressed traditionally, Sagara jumping out the way to avoid him first. They weren’t alone. Looking carefully, in the shadows that grew between the gaps of the small houses, she could just make out a few figures in the mist. She was just about to mention how unlikely it was for the residents to be out this late when she realised the man was still staring at her.

“Ah, excuse me sir,” Natoko said when the old man didn’t step out of the way. “Is there something we could help you with?”

She saw his receding hairline as he tilted his balding forehead towards her, his eyes glazed with a fury that labeled itself righteous. The old man’s eyes met up with hers and enjoyed a brief session of glaring before a ball of saliva emerged from his mouth and landing hard on Natoko’s nose.

“Whore!” he shouted, alarming her a few steps back. “All whores, you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Natoko was about to interject when she saw four more of the elderly group advance upon her. They looked ready to contribute to the layer of saliva that was now dripping down her nose and, judging by the saucepan the woman was holding, perhaps ready to beat her senseless as well.

“You should probably wipe that off,” Sagara told her as he stood besides her, distracting the encroaching mob. “He might have germs.” Natoko cringed.

“You little brats. Have you no respect?” the man in his dressing gown asked. “You come to our little town and you corrupt it with your filthy ways. You summon men to your rooms and let them have their way with your pert little bodies. You disgust us.”

He spat again. Natoko wished she could have said she was ready for it but she could only dodge so much that it landed in her hair and bounced off what little hairspray she used. What was going on here? Had they all been drinking? She had heard from the others that there had been issues with the community for Gen taking over ownership of the building but this was absurd. She felt her grip head for Iziz. Part of her wanted to take the man’s head off his shoulders and place it on her mantelpiece to show off as the ultimate conversation piece but reality stopped her, knowing that she couldn’t possibly use it against such people.

“How long do we have until the train?” Sagara asked her far far out of the blue.

“About fifteen minutes,” she answered off her tongue, only able to think of the question’s gratuitousness second after as the lady with the pan took three slow steps behind the ninja and swung hard, taking his head down with her cooking utensil.

“Sagara,” Natoko found herself screaming, her lord falling before her. His landing more than awkward, the boy tripped on his own ankle, spinning on the spot and collapsing into the floor.

Getting up almost immediately, Sagara rubbed his head, his body moving of its own accord, groaning like he had woken up with a hangover. Wandering around in a daze, he moved behind Natoko; a move the samurai interpreted as permission to attack. The mob of five in front of them were all standing now, one of them preparing his walking cane as the samurai did the same.

Grabbing the air around her sword, Natoko’s eyes went wide. It was gone. The samurai girl’s hands fumbled around her waist for a few seconds, letting out a small cry of desperate anguish that served distraction to the approaching geriatrics.

“Iziz!” she whispered weakly, realizing it was gone. “Where?”

“What?” Sagara said confused, the world spinning round his eyes. “You left it back at the dorm.” Refusing to believe him, her hands checked her waist again, before trying to feel her back, just in case she had decided to place it there for a change.

Thoughts of the fight fell away from her mind, her knees buckling as agony assaulted her mind. All those around her disappeared, blurring with distorted sounds. She felt like she was underwater, floating lifelessly, like she had drowned without losing her life.

“What’s wrong?” Sagara asked through the storm that entered her mind. What does it look like? Barely hearing her own thoughts, she looked at him with barren eyes. He was blurry still, his image deformed in sore eyes. She had never been without her Iziz in so long. It felt wrong that she hadn’t even noticed until now, a betrayal to herself.

“My sword. Iziz. I need it.”

Act One – Epilogue

Act One: Epilogue

It went exactly as I planned it.

At least, I think I planned it.

Now he has shield. Strong shield. That won’t break easily. I led them together, a lovely reunion set for an award. Little overacting, but that just firms the bond.

If he is weak, make him look strong. The tactics of old will makes those who wish to strike early back off. Protected by an image of strength.

The servants will protect the master. As will I. Then I can ask him. Ask him the one question he won’t want to tell me, but by then he’ll have no choice.

Act One – Chapter Five

“How is she now?”

“Vitals are exactly the same. Get more water.”

Five minutes had past. Everyone was assembled in Natoko’s room, a museum of merchandise Samurai armour bought cheap from junk shops, large hanging scrolls displaying calligraphy and swords on display, all bought from convenience stores and souvenir shops. Silence lay dead in the air, the group surrounding Natoko and ignoring all the feudal era stuff everywhere, devoid of dust that should have been there in layers. Gen and Junko had joined them following the ruckus, standing by the door frame without a clue what was happening.

Everyone was rushing in and out the room, a bucket run going between them as water was gathered in the best drinks containers they could find. The loser was currently lying on top of a futon, her head lying on Aki’s lap as her victor shoved water down her throat, the liquid covering the bed sheet as it fell away from her parched lips. It was probably a good thing that she wasn’t awake to witness Sagara trying to drown her.

“Hey,” Otsune said, her rushing in turning to a hesitant approach as she watched Natoko coughing some water back up. “Are you sure you know what your doing?”

“Well I haven’t done this before if that’s what you mean,” Sagara replied bluntly, everyone quickly beginning to realise they had given their friend up to some clueless non-doctor. “But we should be fast about this. You can die of dehydration fast after a possession. If we fill her up with water, she’ll at least stop looking thinner.” Aki whimpered, looking worried for her friend again. She could do nothing but hold her steady.

“If she woke up, it would help a lot,” Sagara said clinically, slapping her cheeks back and forth until three people stopped hm.

“Shouldn’t we get a doctor?” Fujiko asked. “They’ll probably know what to do. Doctors always know what to do. Or at least have a better idea than ourselves.” Sagara was shaking his head.

“Usually, when one gets possessed by water demons, they take water out at the molecular level… or something. A doctor could only do what we’re doing and they don’t have my water drinking training, so they won’t be as good as it as I am.” Otsune wandered back out quickly, nearly bumping into Sakura as she left backwards. Sakura got as far as passing the glass to Sagara before she dropped it with a light squeal.

“You’re bleeding,” she cried out, trying to examine his chest as the blood stain covered his shirt.

“What?” Sagara blurted, looking down and seeing his shirt and jacket had been ruined. “Oh yeah.” Examining it carefully, the ninja seemed to struggle for a second over what to do, before shrugging it away. “Well, I’m sure it’ll stop soon.”

“How can you say that?” Sakura shouted, her eyes darting everywhere. “You might be even worse than Natoko.”

“It’s nothing. Happened when the sword poked into me,” Sagara replied, dismissing it like your parent’s funeral. “Say, do you have some smelling salts? That might help wake her up.”

“I think Junko might have left some,” Fujiko answered. “I’ll go check.” She left on her mission as Sagara got back to trying to make Natoko drink, ignoring Sakura and leaving her to back away into the hall. All of a sudden, water forced itself back into the cup, the girl lying in the bed coughing loudly and moving to sit up in the same motion. Strong hands in front forced her back down. Her body tried to resist, her eyes closed and unsure what was happening, arms quickly finding they had no strength to them.

“No you don’t,” Sagara said lightheartedly, the glass of water dropping from his hand to the floor like he had placed it on a shelf, landing on the edge of the futon perfectly. Nobody stopped to admire the glass’s expert gymnastic performance as it landed without spilling a drop. It felt rather sad inside. “Stay down.”

“I will not…” Natoko’s replied weakly. It was hard to get the words out, her throat was sandpaper brushing over glass and her words were just adding buzz saws to it “Get off… me. What are you… doing?”

Collapsing in the same moment, her hands persisted against Sagara’s, pride clawing away at them at every moment it could.

“Ssshhh,” Aki said warmly. “Everything’s gonna been okay, Natoko. Just listen to him for now.” Although she was not in the state to tell who the voice was, the defeated swordgirl seemed to instinctively trust it, letting her hands ease off Sagara, her mind slowly drifting back to numbness.

“No, no, stay awake,” Sagara told her, slapping her a little too hard across the face, more like he was accusing her of felicitation than keeping her conscious. “You have to drink. Water is good for you. Especially when you have none at all.”

A few moments passed, the glass on her lips spending its time convincing her mouth to let its passengers through, immigration seeming hesitant for unnecessary periods of time before letting the whole lot in anyway. As she drank, the colour came back to her cheeks, letting her drink faster and faster as her body celebrated the fact that it was alive, quickly finishing off the glass and seeing the owner of the hand who was feeding her.

“You?” she said, her dried up eyes widening, her body bypassing Aki’s hands as it shot up.

“Yo,” he said, lifting the glass away from her mouth and behind him, not caring who took it. “Someone get some more?” Watching as Sakura took the glass and rushed out, Natoko calmed down again, mainly because her body was missing the fluids required to get anxious. Her head landing softly behind her she checked her surroundings, her eyes taking in the concerned faces of those still in the room.

“What happened to me?” the girl replied weakly, her mind temporarily drifting out of consciousness as she spoke.

“A spirit possessed you,” Aki replied, as casually as she would to say what’s on television. “She made you act like a drama queen.” A few of the others couldn’t help but snigger at this. Natoko seemed to have trouble believing her friend’s comment, and looked over to the boy in front of her to get a better answer.

“It was a spirit… or something,” he confirmed, a smile on his face even though he sounded confused. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually read about one like that. It should have been a demon. But if it was, it wouldn’t have had human memories. Definitely odd.”

Even dehydrated it occurred to Natoko that this was a man who was relying on knowledge he hadn’t taken the time to understand. Fear tried to grip her at the thought of her friends leaving her in such a person’s care, but once more failed to produce the enzymes required for the adrenaline rush.

“Though how did you even know there was a demon… spirit. Thing… whatever,” Otsune asked. “And how did that attack force it out.” Otsune’s mouth danced over her own words, her mind fumbling against them. The stuff she was talking about seemed utter nonsense, yet unless this was a poorly designed dream she was having, the evidence was before her and she was demanding answers from it.

“It seemed only to affect things that aren’t human,” Sagara muttered. “It didn’t affect Sarah, so I knew it would be okay. But then again, why did such a technique force it out…”

“How did she even get in me?” Natoko’s weak voice muttered.

“No idea. I could only tell because of my eyes…” His voice slowed down, wrapping himself up in thought, dribbling water down Natoko’s chin. “It was something about you being angry. But it could have been there for months to be honest.

“I brought the smelling…” Fujiko started, before seeing Natoko awake. “Never mind.” Sakura came in right behind her with more water, trying to keep it steady as she could before passing it to Sagara, who took it off her quickly and turned to Natoko, glad that the conversation was being interrupted. Placing the glass to her mouth like he was feeding a baby, the drained girl’s hand intercepted him, slowly drinking it herself. Between sips she stopped, wanting to continue the interrogation.

“What was that about your eyes?” Sagara cringed at Otsune question, hoping the conversation would leave through the window. Taking a few seconds to think it over, stopping to consider taking the path that he wanted the conversation to take, he seemed to decide to get on and tell them in the simplest way possible.

“You know,” he paused for a second, “about the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul?”

“Yeeeah?” Otsune replied after a few seconds, realizing that no one else was going to. Sagara paused to think again, staring into space like his off switch had been flicked. Everyone blinked at least twice.

“Errr, well,” Sagara said, continuing without any distractions from himself. “Basically, my mom’s side of the family usually have green eyes and, for a reason I’m not allowed to tell you, can see through any illusion, trick and whatever. It has something to do with the Neutralis, but I’m a little diluted, so I can’t do it constantly… Basically if you see that I have green eyes, that when you know I’m using it.” He waited for a moment, and saw that they still expected him to say more. “So yeah…”

“What use is that?” asked Aki, as if understanding completely, but seeing it as a useless ability that only added +2 to his awareness.

“Well, I saved Kotona’s life today because of it,” he explained with a grin, glad that they were happy to leave it at that. “If I couldn’t have seen into her and realize there were two souls, we would have never been able to help her.”

“You’re not exactly…helping me now…” Natoko mumbled, causing everyone to look towards her, seeing the girl was becoming drowsy again. Her glass had fallen from her hand, and it was only because of the glass’s unseen acrobatic ability that it hadn’t been shattered. Fortunately this time, the glass was expecting not to be applauded and so nobody’s feelings were hurt.

“Oh sorry, Kotone,” he said, taking the glass off her and passing it back to Sakura, turning this time. “Sorry to ask again, but…”

“It’s okay,” the smaller girl answered, leaving the room to head to the kitchen.

“It’s Natoko,” a voice said from behind him, as the girl’s footsteps left earshot.

“What is?”

“My name! Ya.Ma.Na.Ka. Na.To.Ko.” the girl said sternly, sitting up with energy, only to regret it immediately, her body insisting that sudden movement was a bad thing, and took control back, laying down on Aki again, who continued to tie the girl’s hair into knots without her realizing.

Before he could ask her what he had been calling her previously, the sliding door slid open behind them. In front of them stood the girl that Sagara had jumped over in the last chapter, now wearing a dressing gown and with a look that could be accurately described as very pissed off, with a pile of torn clothes wrapped round her hands.

“Where is she?” she shouted, ignoring the shocked look on Sagara’s face, which contrasted with the surprised look on everyone else’s faces. Ignoring everyone and everything that was happening she jumped over Sagara and landed on Natoko, grabbing the girl by her clothes and shaking her roughly for a few seconds, ignoring the state that the girl was in.

“That weird thing you did ruined my clothes, you bitch. You’re buying me new ones,” she shook the weakened girl again. If she weren’t so angry, she would have probably realized that she was somehow able to attack Natoko without getting swatted. Fuming in anger she turned to see Gen, trying to grab her softly and pull her off.

“Calm down,” he told her. “Natoko’s injured right now, she needs to be looked after carefully.”

“Be quiet you shit,” the ten year old child shouted back in her little temper tantrum. “Just because she’s fighting other people doesn’t mean she can ruin my clothes. My dad brought me them, and they’re from America. You think it’s going to be easy to replace them?” She turned to see Sagara, who was still looking at her with a studious look, his head waving from side to side. His staring caught her eye.

“Oh yeah,” she said, pouncing on Sagara and knocking him down. Even as he fell, the boy was still looking at her confused. Were it there, the glass would have been forced to do a triple backwards somersault with a nice little finale involving landing on its rim. This time it would have been noticed and declared the greatest glass in history. Unfortunately it was still with Sakura and was feeling intense emotional pain from within. “You’re the one who jumped around me. If it wasn’t for you then I wouldn’t have lost the clothes dad gave me. I am so gonna kick the crap out of you.”

Finally, something seemed to click in Sarah as well, seeing that smiling face staring back at her with furrowed eyebrows. Looking at each other, the two scanned each other, Sagara realising first.

“You’re the Squirt, aren’t you?” She paused for a second at his words, knowing that only one person could call her that and live. “I can still call you Squirt, can’t I?”

The runt just stared at the boy for a second, confusion running inside her mind, before finding the recognition it had been searching for.

“Boss?” she asked tentatively and although no answer was given she took it to be true. “Boss!” Screaming his name out once again with joy, she hugged her opponent, squeezing him tightly. The rest of the group just stared on as the ten year old hugged Gen’s cousin. No one had any real idea what was going on, but Sarah seemed happy, and that was rare.

Sarah was the youngest living at Heavenly Springs, and was two years younger than Sakura. Despite this, she was a loner and rarely ever left her room. Looking at her now though, Otsune could see no more than a normal child meeting their father as he came back from work.

Lifting himself up with the little girl was still connected to his neck, Sagara chortled to himself as she held on playfully. Finally having to pull the girl away, the two looked at the now familiar faces before them.

“Hey Squirt,” he greeted her properly. “You got quite the mouth now.”

“Your mom was a good teacher, Boss.”

“Really?” he replied. “I didn’t notice.”

“I take it you guys know each other?” Otsune was taking his place feeding Natoko now.

“Does Sarah usually mug strangers when she sees them?” he said rhetorically. Everybody nodded without hesitation, looking as dumbfounded as before, but Sagara hadn’t noticed. “Is your dad here?” he asked the girl, still clutching onto him. Sarah shook her head.

“I don’t know where he is at the moment,” she said. “He left me here a few months back. I don’t know when he’s coming back.”

“Kings are known for doing that,” Sagara replied with a grin. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon?”

“Yeah, I guess. He just…” Sarah found herself changing the subject. “Hey, wait a moment. What are you doing here?” she started poking him in the chest.

“To see my cousin in one part I guess,” he said, wincing in pain as she prodded away. Although I’m here in Japan on business,” he lifted up the small child into the air to empathize his point, taking the opportunity to move her away from Natoko. Sarah face twisted up, confused at his answer.

“You came to see me, but you didn’t know I was here,” Sarah asked, wondering what he meant.

“I meant Gen,” he said, calmly as ever. Gen sat up, the extent of the conversation dawning on him. “I didn’t even know you were here, Squirt.”

“It’s Sarah now,” Sarah insisted. “I have grown up, y’know.”

“Sure thing, Squirt.”

“Sarah’s your cousin?” Gen mumbled. “Does that mean she’s my cousin?” Sagara nodded, Sarah freezing up as she stared at the boring landlord.

“Does that mean he’s my cousin?” Sarah exclaimed with a gasp, like the situation hadn’t fully sunken in. Sagara shook his head, making both of them look back at him confused.

“Gen’s on my mom’s side, and the Squirt’s…”

“Sarah,” Sarah replied. “Sa-rah!”

“… on my dad’s side. Otsune isn’t related to me.” His finger had somehow ended up pointing at her.

“I had no idea,” Gen said, still in shock as Sakura came back into the room with several bottles of water. “I just heard from the girls that my grandmother let her stay without question, and that she never had to pay rent. At first I thought it was a trick, but she never gets on with anybody, so it couldn’t be, then my mother insisted…”

“Ah, Mizune would have known,” Sagara stated, taking the bottle off of Sakura and pouring it into the glass. “Probably her who did it.”

“But I’m related to her through you? That’s kind of scary. It’ll mean I’ll have to put more effort into buying her birthday presents,” Gen said laughing, scratching the back of his head with the concealed attempt of severing all the nerves there.

“Could you actually pass me the other water bottles please?” Natoko asked, the strength returning to her voice. It took a few seconds for Sagara to understand what she was talking about and took the bottles as he passed the glass back. Inside, the small glass screamed as Sakura left the room, it knew it was going to get put with all the other glasses again. No doubt they’ll all laugh at it again, like always.

Natoko opened up the bottle herself and sipped at it carefully, downing the bottle in seconds. “Excuse me… everybody,” Natoko said softly, her voice sounding delicate despite attempts at making herself look healthy. “Could I ask that you all leave me for a few minutes. I wish for some privacy. Plus, none of you are actually allowed in my room.” The last bit of the request seemed sterner than the first part.

“Are you sure, girl?” Fujiko said. “I know you need rest, but shouldn’t we stay in case something happens?”

“I assure you I shall be fine,” the girl said practically. “Sakura has supplied me with plenty of water, and that is all I need at the moment.” Looking to the left, the group could see around twenty small bottles of water. They turned to the girl, looking nonplussed. If the she drank this much it would bloat her up like a slug.

“Well…” Otsune thought over it for a moment. “I guess you’ll be okay. Sagara?” she asked, looking for a double check, with the hidden intention of it failing to cash in.

“Ah she’ll be fine now,” he said, standing up and beginning to usher them all out. “And she looks healthy too. To think I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.” As they all left, Aki seemed as hesitant as Otsune was.

“You gonna be okay, Natoko?” she said, looking a little sad at leaving her friend in such a state. They looked at each other, Natoko smiling back at the girl’s tear filled eyes and worried smile.

“I shall be fine, Aki. I just need to rest for a bit. I need to get back to training as soon as possible,” she replied, her voice sounding smoother and more elegant by the moment. With this, Aki nodded, smiling once more. She then jumped up to her feet, being gentle with her friend’s head and placing it down on the futon beneath them, before bouncing out of the room, grabbing Sarah and taking the angry little girl with her.

Sagara was the only other one left in the room with her. Natoko picked up another water bottle and drank hungrily from the plastic container.

“T-thank you,” she croaked between gulps of water. “If it wasn’t for you I don’t know what would have happened. Your timing here was most convenient” Sagara stopped by the door, looking out, yet listening carefully.

“You’re welcome,” he replied happily. “Although I’d still like to know what that thing was.”

***

He was different now. Different from how she had seen him earlier, the image of a moronic lewd creature molesting what he could gone with the true image of what, admittedly, still seemed to be a bit of a moron. It was almost amusing to watch him banging the back of his head against the wall, trying to spark some memory that would help him figure out what the spirit was. That didn’t matter now, though. She owed him a debt of gratitude, one which she felt, by her sword, that she had to pay.

“My sword!” she cried out, the word relaying over her mind several times.

“Huh?” Sagara mumbled as she started moving frantically within the confines of her futon, any thoughts of dehydration gone.

“Where’s my sword?” she asked him desperately, her voice shivering without the blade. “Please don’t say that it broke.”

“It’s behind you,” he said nonchalantly, unsure of her reaction. Turning around, she felt relief brighten her face as she saw it, the three and a half shaku blade that was as much a part of her life as her hand. Crawling up to it, moving on her knees, she grabbed it and brought it back to her futon. It would have all been pointless if she had lost Iziz. Her soul lay inside this sword.

The boy was looking at her and she felt her face fill with blood.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“What for?” he replied, looking honestly confused.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just this sword is very important to me.”

“Right,” he said, falling silent again. Had she sounded weird again? People always went quiet when they thought she was being weird.

“That aren’t that many possession spirits…”

“What?”

“Just thinking,” he replied. “There aren’t that many Earth spirits that can possess people like that woman did. Demons and Angels can do it with ease, but she wasn’t either.”

“Oh right…” Was he still thinking about that? Had he even noticed her rush to her sword?

“Mind you, there were similar effects of the possession to some earth spirits,” he continued, clearly speaking to the both of them. “Your skills were weaker than they should have been, that was similar to when my mom got possessed…”

“Your mother was possessed?” she replied, finding the idea of someone else being possessed somewhat relieving. It made her less weak by diffusion.

“Well I shouldn’t have been able to beat her,” Sagara replied. “She’s the Enforcer of the Balance. There aren’t any humans that can beat her.”

“Enforcer of the Balance?” Natoko repeated, the title meaning nothing to her except that it sounded rather stupid.

“Oh wait, I’m not supposed to talk about that,” Sagara said, waiting for someone to give him permission as he said it, “but I guess it doesn’t matter. In essence, like I told the others, my family are demon hunters, but the point of the direct bloodline is the role of Enforcer. The Enforcer is the lord of the village and assigned the job of making sure that non-humans from other realms don’t set foot on earth, because of the influence their mere presence might cause.”

Looking around for a moment, she realized he was being completely serious as he went on to explain other roles, sounding like a video game tutorial rather than someone describing their family.

“And this is your mother’s job?” she said, when he had finally finished, none of it having sunken in.

“Enforcer, yep. And one day, it’ll be mine. That’s why I’m here actually, I guess. The tournament is part of my initiation ceremony.

“So you really are a demon hunting ninja?”

“Didn’t I say that?”

“Too many times,” she replied. “I thought I might have misheard.”

“Right,” he replied, clearly not understanding her troubles.

“I guess I can’t argue with that. My wish to be a samurai is just as stupid.”

“You’re not a samurai?” She glared at him. That was that western view again. Everything holding a sword was a samurai from their perspective.

She sighed, regretting her slip as he suddenly became fascinated. “As far as I’m concerned I am one. I have always insisted fighting for honour and justice every since I got my sword, ever since my grandfather…” Her voice cut itself off, that inbuilt warning instinct that usually kicked in when she got too comfortable around stranger, wanting to share but knowing fantasy should stay away from fact. “But I guess there is no such thing as a modern day samurai.”

“There isn’t?” he asked, now looking mildly curious.

“At best, I’ll just be another Iaido or Kendo practitioner. That’s what I was told…but,” she felt a deep strain on her heart, threatening to crush it, “but that insults everything the samurai stood for! There aren’t even classes for Iaijutsu anymore and when I try to make my own styles up, people just say it’s like this or like that. It…”

“Don’t you have to be born into a samurai family or something to be a samurai?” he interrupted, apparently failing to notice her discomfort at speaking about this. Before she could stop herself, the words were already leaving her mouth.

“I was. I have my genealogy on the wall over there. My great grandfather was samurai and my grandfather gave his life alongside Mishima at the Self Defence Force building just to maintain the samurai way. And even though that failed, it doesn’t make me any less samurai. Just because my father chose the path of business shouldn’t change that, shouldn’t make me any less samurai.”

“Well, why would it?”

“What?”

“Why shouldn’t it make you any less samurai?” Was he mocking her?

“It shouldn’t,” she replied bitterly, her voice felt cold, wanting to twist. Her eyes felt like tears should be streaming down them.

“So you are samurai?” he said, voice still as calm as ever, yet still confused.

“Yes!”

It took her a few seconds to realize that she had shouted, the silence echoing the room greatly contrasting the volume a moment ago. Her eyes were locked onto his, finding that urge to tear him apart returning, wishing her body wasn’t as weak as it was. She waited for whatever mockery he had waiting for her.

“That’s cool,” he finally said. “I’ve never met a samurai.”

The lack of belief flooded her mind, the pain gripping her heart falling away. Why wasn’t he laughing? Everyone always laughed, mocking her with her own words. At the very least, they’d look away, make some excuse, talk behind her back at how silly she was. They always did. Even her friends took it all in stride. Yet he wasn’t doing anything. He reacted as if she had she wanted some respectable business job or something and now-

It was clear. Now she owed him two debts. Her hand tightened over her sword. Would it actually be possible?

“Anyway, I need to shovel food into my mouth at an alarming rate so…” he began, moving for the doorway.

“Sagara-san…” she whispered, interrupting him.

“Yeah?”

“This may seem…a little sudden…but…” She was hesitating. It wouldn’t work if she was hesitating. The moment would be spoiled.

“What is it?”

“Please,” she shouted, throwing her hands onto the floor and bowing her head as deeply as it could go. “Please take me on as your retainer!”

“Excuse me?” he replied, sounding as bewildered as she expected.

“All my life,” she began to explain, letting the moment rush into her. “I have been determined to be samurai. Some called me childish, others strange. Others simply laughed it off. Yet you have accepted my dream unwaveringly. As samurai, I have no choice but to follow and serve you.”

“But,” he said, scratching the back of his head loud enough for her to hear it. “Aren’t you supposed to be following some Lord or something?”

“If what you have told me is true, and I have been convinced today that it is, then I have opted to follow someone who is heir to the position of a Lord. I beg of you! I believe I am making the right choice.” She held herself in, water was leaving her body again, her eyes clamped shut like fearing the executioner’s bullet. “Please. Accept my plea for you to become my master.”

That was it. She had said it. It didn’t matter how stupid it sounded now, how messed up it was. It had come out and there was no way to take it back. Whether he refused or not was just a small side detail now compared to that step she had just taken.

“Sorry but…”

I thought so.

“No wait. You should know,” he hesitated, scratching the back of his head. “My way isn’t exactly about honour or justice. It isn’t even considered a noble thing what I do. For me to take you in probably won’t bode well in the future.”

So that was his excuse. It sounded different, almost reassuring. Should she accept that?

“…but then again. It is your choice, and it is our key principle that we allow a person their free will. So…”

Was he just speaking aloud? Was it acceptance? It was impossible to tell. Her mind felt like it was on fire. It didn’t matter if it was his answer.

“Thank you,” she shouted, bowing furiously. “Thank you so much!”

“Hey, I didn’t…” but she was looking at him now. His face had barely budged an inch since she had brought hers down. He seemed to give in. “Never mind, it would have probably led that way anyway. Okay, I accept you.”

Nodding, she brought her head back down for another bow, years of period drama teaching her exactly how she should act. But it wasn’t an act. For once it wasn’t an act. At that one point she felt truly free. It was a beautiful moment for her, her blood was racing despite the water shortage. A feeling of flight emerged in her. Acceptance.

“Wow, my second servant,” Sagara muttered as he wandered out. “Remind me to introduce you to Melissa sometime.”

“Eh?” Natoko blurted out as the door shut behind her new lord.

Act One – Chapter Four

“Ahhh,” sighed Fujiko dipping her feet into the water, not displaying concern if her denim white jeans got wet. “This is nice.”

“Yeah,” replied Aki, showing no concern at all as she jumped in, splashing a few of the others around them. “It was a good job they decided to fight to the death by the springs.”

“Please can you two be a little more serious here?” Otsune commented, currently sitting on a rock. Despite her comments, the girl also had her bare feet in the soothing waters, her hand brushing the water. “This is a fight to the death.”

Sakura sat quietly, yet closer to where the fight was going on more than anyone else. The twelve girl looked on worryingly, upset that this was all technically her fault- that she had been responsible for upsetting Natoko and instigating the fight. She wished there was something she could do to stop it, but knew it had gone too far now.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t bother ringing the police in the end, girl,” Fujiko pointed out. “And I’m sure nothing really bad will happen.”

“I didn’t ring because someone had Aki disconnect the phone lines for the dormitory. And then my phone went conveniently missing even though I always keep it on my desk besides my journals.” Otsune sighed in defeat and stared towards the sun. Midday has passed about ten minutes ago. No one seemed that bothered. “Are you really so bored that you’re going to run the risk of two idiots kill each other for your own amusement.”

“Well… yeah,” replied Fujiko, bringing her bottle to her lips for another sip. “Did you have anything better to do?”

Natoko stepped up to Sagara. Seeing movement, all eyes turned towards the two at the north end of the spring, where there was a small grassy area that looked like it had been perfectly designed by the Lord himself at the very beginning of time in order to have a meaningless brawl between two stubborn idiots.

“At least you showed up, I thought you might have hidden away.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, though I was here first,” the second said. The supposed ninja had gotten changed from before, now looking actually less prepared for a fight to the death than he did before. Wearing a black cotton jacket that  would surely roast him in the current heat wave, the boy looked as if he were about to leave, a small leather bag slung round his shoulder.

“You don’t look ready to fight. Do you plan on running?” Natoko sneered, a mocking grin plastered on her face.

“No, I’m staying,” he said, looking confused for a second. “Why would I leave now?” Grimacing at the blasé response, the girl ignored the question, sliding the scabbard of her katana into her sash in preparation.

“Are you aware of the rules?” she asked as a mere formality.

“Rules? We’re just going hit each other until one of us dies, right?” Sagara said, placing his leather bag onto the floor.

“I guess that’s right,” she replied, feeling miffed.

The supposed ninja was grinning childishly. Kneeling down, he opened his bag, taking his eyes completely off his opponent. Stepping back at this action, the girl was appalled at his lack of respect, of just dismissing her like that, for whatever reason. Watching as the seconds ticked by, Natoko felt her grip curling round the hilt of her blade as he took his time, apparently searching for something. Her mouth started the fight.

“Enough of this. Begin!” she shouted, charging towards her opponent, unsheathing her sword and raising it above her head without a moment’s hesitation. Traveling the length of the small field, the enemy wasn’t even looking in her direction, still focused on getting something out of his bag, the swordgirl struck the ninja boy in a single stroke.

“Look out!” Otsune shouted out from the springs, unable to help herself, Sakura looking away in fear. From their position it was clear he had no chance of defending himself from that distance and Otsune was already standing to intercede. Her motion stopped when she saw that Sagara was still alive, holding the blade of the katana in his hand.

Her initial rage subsiding, Natoko focused enough to see what had happened.

“Wha?” She mumbled in shock, not expecting what she saw.

“What?” Sagara said with a grin. “You got a weapon, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” Repositioning his legs, the boy stood up straight, pushing her sword back as he did so before knocking it away, iron clashing upon steel. Natoko gazed for a few seconds, keeping a firm hold of the blade, looking towards his right hand as the opponent kicked his bag away.

“A gauntlet?” Otsune said from the sidelines, looking just as surprised as everybody else. Even Fujiko and Aki had sat up at this, now paying attention like crows, the shiny iron fist reflecting the sunlight towards them.

“Well, that changes things slightly,” Fujiko said. “Looks like he stands a little chance now.”

“A little chance?” Otsune replied, sitting back down. “You forgetting how fast he won the first time?”

“Yeah, but Natoko’s really angry with him this time. He’s gonna get slaughtered.” Otsune wondered. He still had that goofy grin on his face. In fact she hadn’t seen it leave his face since this all started. It was standard for someone to be cocky before a fight, but that usually went out the window as soon as a fight started.

Natoko took a step back, bringing her sword’s hilt to the left side of her head, the long metallic blade arching behind her as she stepped forward on her left. Sagara remained standing straight, his metal clad fist poised ready at his side.

“If you think bringing that out at the last second is going to affect this duel, you’re wrong,” the swordgirl called out, holding her ground. “You should have hidden it for as long as you could.”

“Whatever,” Sagara said dismissively, “If it’s any consolation, I won’t attack with it. Humans can’t survive it.”

“Silence!” Natoko screamed out, stepping forward and swinging at the teen’s face. Ducking down to avoid the blow, the boy swept his left foot towards her in the same quick motion. Taking to the air to prevent being tripped, the girl came straight back down, her sword pointed towards the ground where Sagara was, the blade determined to stab him through the skull. He responded by leaning back, lifting his body onto his hands and hearing the sword thud into the ground without hitting him as a reward, an angry Natoko following it.

His arms still holding him up, a foot swung out towards her. Leaning forward a little to the left, the missing attack gave Natoko enough time to pull her sword out of the soft earth, using the hilt to block Sagara’s other foot as it came towards her at that same instant. The resistance of her blade causing him to lose his balance slightly, Sagara was forced to roll with it, moving away to stand back up and face away from her, covering his tracks for a few seconds by swinging a hook kick blindly behind him, the crooked leg making Natoko keep her distance as he used this momentum to swing round to face her head on. Only pausing for a second, Natoko was attacking as he caught sight of her, her blade swinging around to meet his body, which let the grass fall out from under him, quickly sitting down before immediately jumping up again and punching with his left hand towards her face.

Seeing this coming with little surprise Natoko’s body tipped out of the way of the uppercut just as his chest fell wide open to her gaze. Smiling at the irony of their position, the girl plunged her sword’s hilt into his abdomen, only wishing she could have risked taking the time to turn the sword around. Sagara exhaled loudly at the sudden intrusion to his lungs, causing his left leg to lift up in retaliation, slamming into her right thigh, knocking the girl down and allowing him to get away, his breath rushing to get back as much air as it could.

“Whoa!” said Fujiko, back at the springs, vocalizing what everyone else was thinking.

“I didn’t think Natoko was that fast,” said Otsune critically. The fight had been going for a minute now and only two hits had been taken.

“That’s weird,” Aki mumbled to herself, the others turning to find dark skinned girl staring at the fight as hard as she could. “She’s not fighting properly at all.”

“What’s that?” Fujiko replied, not sure if the skinny girl was talking to herself or not.

“It’s not Iai.”

“What?”

“She’s just swinging the sword around. With her usual style, she sheaths it constantly,” Aki elaborated, although it sounded like someone else was answering the question, the girl’s voice distant as her mind was lost in the fight. Back on the battlefield both warriors were staring each other down, the skills of the other surprising each warrior.

 

Sagara charged towards the girl in front of him, the fist with the gauntlet on pulled back. Not actually expecting a direct assault, the swordgirl was a bit slow to react, holding her sword up high ready to strike down. Defending, Natoko swung to counter what looked like a tackle, but found herself cutting thin air, the intruder disappearing from her field of view, leaving a vacuum where he once was.

Turning hastily to see an oddly angled punch coming from the only place he could be, Natoko stepped to the side at the last moment, seeing that her opponent was currently arched backwards, his entire body weight resting on one foot as the fist flew towards her. Missing, he lifted his body around the foot, swinging the same hand at her in the opposite direction. Dodging this, she brought her blade up, swinging it at his leg to remove it. This too missed, as the boy pushed hard on his planted leg and propelled his entire body high into the air, about twice as high as Natoko had earlier, like he was swimming in the air directly above her.

The swordgirl found herself blinded, intense beams surprising her retinas and causing her to squint just as everything slowed for a heartbeat. She saw the ninja silhouetted in front of the sun, appearing as nothing more than a black shadow. For a second she thought she saw spikes snaking out around his body, his gauntlet growing massive, a snake like creature coming from his other hand. Her eyes squinted as sunbeams surrounded him and time seemed to freeze as she locked onto her opponent, the abnormal shape above her catching her off guard.

The second passed, the air came back to her ears, telling her that something was falling towards her. Instinctively, she lifted her katana high into the air, panicking just enough upon when realizing it was his body tearing through the tip of her sword, cutting through his jacket like shredded paper and  falling to the floor besides her.

Just the jacket.

Glancing at the cotton top, she realised her mistake, craning her neck up quickly to see the rest of Sagara falling towards her, much too close to bring her sword back up. Swinging his body at the last second, the ninja brought his foot into contact with her face and knocking her back.

Given his position, the power of the attack was ruined by the odd angle at which he had decided to fall, the trick had still managed to give him time enough to get away.

Shaking her head from the attack, Natoko looked back over to where Sagara was on the ground. The boy had shifted his position to prevent landing on either the girl or her sharp stick and his hands hadn’t done a good job of protecting him from the several million feet thick solid piece of ground that they had just met. His chest had slammed into the ground and now he was just lying there, needing a few seconds to try and stop his heart from trying to get out of his chest.

“You should have landed on me, coward. It would have given you the advantage,” she stated, bringing her sword up above her head. “Die.” Bringing the blade towards his head, it hit resistance before it even got there, making a loud clashing noise before being repelled backwards. The shockwave was strong, but Natoko kept good hold of the polished steel, looking back down to see Sagara had rested his gauntlet on his chin, effectively blocking her blade.

“It’s not an advantage if I can’t do what I have to do,” he said calmly, his voice being muffled by his weapon. Trying to flip to the side, the girl’s sword was brought down upon him once again, forcing him to used the gauntlet to deflect her blows and trapping him there.

“And don’t you have to defeat your opponent?”

“No, that’s what you’re being made to do.” She snarled, taking the opportunity of his prone position to start reining down blows at him, swinging even wilder each time, aiming away from the only thing protecting the otherwise defenseless ninja. Each time, his prone position was giving him the perfect angle to block each blow, but his deflections were also causing her sword to lift back into the air with enough force to allow her to instantly bring the metal instrument back down for another fatal strike. Continuing the stalemate for eight more slashes, Natoko only stalled when she realized she had stopped breathing.

Seizing the moment, Sagara’s iron clad palm swatted her hands, both of which were clasping the blade tense enough to be bashed away. The advantage his again, Sagara right foot went to collide with that of his opponent’s. Given the clothing she was wearing, balance soon became her worst enemy, her body quickly dropping away from above, the other fist of the ninja shooting out at her, pushing lightly against her abdomen and knocking her backwards.

Her feet reacted quickly, readjusting the rest of her body to avoid meeting with the ground, even as her hands desperately tried to reach for the falling sword. Sagara’s feet sprung together to stop her, slamming into her midsection, sending her sprawling backwards, the precious air leaving her lungs as she fell back onto the ground in a heap.

“You’re fun. I like you,” Sagara panted out bluntly, taking his time to stand up. The final reverse kangaroo kick had caused Natoko to fall back about three meters, her chest wheezing in pain as she lay there.

Looking at her opponent, seeing the light smile on his face as he stared her back down.

Was he enjoying this? Before it had looked to her that he was merely fighting because he had been challenged, some chauvinistic attempt at not being beaten by a woman but now- that smile hidden under his unkempt beard, that perverted gaze that refused to look away from her. What was this? It felt like the world could explode and he wouldn’t notice, just to continue this fight.

She needed to end this as soon as possible.

Her sword lay on the ground below her, his back kick had sent her flying in its direction. It called out for her to grab it, Aki’s shouts accompanying it, warning her of the approaching ninja, charging flat out at her. With the same amount of speed that he had displayed earlier, she lunged for her sword’s hilt and swung it in the ninja’s direction, just catching his bare fist before her face.

A tremendous clash sparked across the area as sword hit gauntlet. The fingers of the iron fist now interlocked around the blade, pushing against it with just as much strength as she was pushing against him. Driving hard against him, she saw that same smile, mocking her with its simplicity, watching her fight with all her might while he was just testing her, watching her struggle just to keep him from pushing her own sword into her face. There was no way she could win like this. Being on the ground was a big disadvantage in itself, but he clearly had more brute strength than she did, and neither could generate any force. His face was getting closer. He’d end up falling on top of her at this rate, the bristles of his beard near her smooth cheeks again…

“No!” She wasn’t aware she was shouting, but it helped. Using every muscle in her body allowed her to get up onto one foot, she pushed against her blade as hard as she could, releasing all force and rolling back, her sword sliding through his fingers and out of his grasp.

Falling straight forward, the boy dropped his hands round to the ground, his back now wide open. Hopping forwards, she swung her katana down for the back of his head, missing as he lifted out of the way just enough to see the blade pass his nose and barely touch the tip. This time she followed through, keeping the sword in its same position she struck upwards, the small tip cutting across his chest, tearing through his thin shirt and taking skin and blood for its reward. The bastard was too fast. She should have cut through his entire body, but he had dodged again, this stupid blade hadn’t even carved into his muscles.

Jumping a step back, the boy’s foot unexpectedly cut the air in front of her face as he span round on his hands to stand back up, but she was slowly getting used to his tricks and wasted no time in stepping forward, moving the edge of her sword towards his abdomen. His iron clad fist dashing to block the blow, she recoiled from the impact, releasing a vengeful smile as she turned the force to swing at his neck, only to have it blocked again. Now they were both trapped, each recoiling the blast of the other’s attack to strike again and again, matching each other for skill and accuracy each time. At this rate, she would tire first, the abomination’s stamina was clearly better than hers. If only she didn’t have this pathetically heavy sword

“Enough,” she shouted, releasing her sword as his fist deflected it, using the loss of momentum to spin out the way and unleash a devastating kick to his groin, which took him flat to the ground. She hated to use such a tactic, but she-

Wait. Why had she used such a move against him? To attack the groin was shameful. An attack like that didn’t belong in her arsenal.

“You are a monster, Futabatei Sagara,” she called out, surprising herself. “An evil, despicable monster that deserves nothing more than to be released from this world.” What was she doing? Iziz was on the floor. Pick up Iziz! “I’ll destroy you in the name of all the innocent women your kind has plagued since you dominated this land, all in the name of soldier morale and cheap brutality.” What was she saying? When did she… She felt a cool heat. Were her hands on fire?

“Prepare yourself, Futabatei, for the Burning Waterball!”

To say her hands were on fire wasn’t quite right, it was more like the blood that had been boiling within her was now starting to steam and be released from her body, encircling her hands like some kind of cartoon energy attack. “The fiery water that you see will spell your death. It will wash away the evil of those whom it touches.” The energy in her hands pulse wildly. “I only hope it can purify the rotted corpse that holds your evil. ” The world in front of her disappeared; something was closing her eyes, now moving her hands. This was stupid. This guy was fast, he’ll hit get to us before anything happens.

“By the way,” another said said, sounding exactly like hers. “Don’t think your speed will help you. There will be no escaping it, since it will follow your every move.” The voice boasted its claim, her anger releasing the fire from her hands and out across the field.

Natoko didn’t know what was happening. Whatever it was, it felt as fantastic as it was sickening.

Sagara couldn’t currently see the grand splendor of the Burning Waterball that Natoko had set upon him to reduce his body to ashes and wash away his evil, since he was running away from it like a coward. He was, however, assuming the giant, impeding, incinerating wave of burning water was coming his way. It was only instinct that caused him to jump to the side at the last second, avoiding the red heat, watching it flow past him by a few inches before continuing its rampage.

The rampage didn’t last long, and they both watched as the streaking wave traveled about ten feet, before merging back into itself coming straight back at him. It was becoming clear to the interloper that Natoko’s threat wasn’t just a boast and the ninja ran for it, heading for the nearest entrance back to Heavenly Springs, crashing through the changing rooms and down the corridor.

***

Sprinting down the passageway of the East wing of the Heavenly Springs dormitory for girls, Sagara heard a large smash behind him, the Waterball wasn’t as polite as he had been and was not using the doors as a guest should.

Unsure as to what to do to avoid it, he just kept running. From what he could tell, it was going to keep causing damage until it hit him. Turning the corner, he saw stairs and bounced up them as quick as he could, hoping that it couldn’t follow his ascent.

Ignoring what was ahead of him, he took a moment to look behind. This time the fire was being polite enough to glide up the stairs, rather than crashing through the roof above them, although it could have been argued that it was still being a little rude to singe the steps like it was doing. Pacing through the corridors of Heavenly Springs, seeing one or two girls rushing back into their rooms at the sight of madness that appeared before them, Sagara turned his head back around only to see a small blond haired girl in front of him. Reacting as best he could, he flipped over her, her small height allowing him to do so easily as he continued running for his life.

Hearing a loud profanity behind him, he turned to see the girl enveloped by the shockwave, hitting her at around the same speed of a charging bull, the Waterball barely noticing her as it went through the little girl and out the other end, apparently leaving her none the worse for wear.

Sagara continued to grin as he went up another level looking around for something.

Back at the hot springs, the group had got up and walked towards Natoko, who was currently standing still with her eyes closed, her sword down to her side.

“Is it over?” Fujiko asked, unsure of how she currently felt about the situation. It was fun earlier, but then she had, in the true spirit of buddy movies, assumed that no one was going to die except the black guy. There was also the issue of her friend gaining the ability to generate a large ball of elemental energy and directing it at the new guy, which should have been causing her more alarm than it currently did.

“It soon will be,” Natoko said calmly. “He is still running from it, but he has no chance of escaping.” After a brief pause she opened her eyes and looked up to the noises coming from the dormitory. “I knew he was a coward.”

“Wha… a coward?” Sakura asked. “But he fought you for ages.”

“Cowards run, Sakura. Cowards always run in the end. You would do the same.”

“But you gave him no choice but to run, you said that thing would kill him. You would probably do the same thing in his situation.”

“Silence!” Natoko shouted, shocking everyone to silence. Sakura squirmed back and even nearly fell over. “Do not even think of comparing him to me. How dare you turn against me after all I’ve done to protect you?”

“Turn against you?” Otsune repeated, looking at her dorm mate in shock. “What are you talking about, Natoko?” Genuinely concerned for her friend, the student reached out to the swordgirl and was met by her sword instead. Falling back, Otsune looked to see that the blade had cut her jacket across the zip. Looking up at Natoko, her concern was quickly replaced with arrogant anger.

“What’s the hell’s wrong with you?” she shouted angrily as she stared the sword down, the look on the swordgirl’s face even angrier than hers, like she had been betrayed by her friend in exchange for a barrel of monkeys.

“I thought you would agree with me, Otsune. I know he did something to you in those springs. Something wrong. I can sense the perverted nature around him. I thought you would want me to kill him, but instead you protect him. Could it be you liked it, what he did to you back then?” Shuffling back, Otsune lay there as she saw tears dripping down the girl’s eyes, backing away as she failed to predict what her ‘friend’ was going to do next, the others equally as confused. “How could you? Why are all women like that? All sluts and whores, willing to allow the males to do what they want. You’re all like that, all of you.”

No words came from anyone at this point. Everyone was too taken aback. They certainly hadn’t been expecting to be called whores.

The group hovered around her, some of them jumping in their boots when she clutched her sword tight. Fujiko thought she was actually considering killing them all for their so-called betrayal. Otsune found herself getting ready to run.

That was when the foot hit her fast and hard, causing Natoko to fall to the ground before anyone could see what was happening. Turning back, her face plastered with red shock, she saw her assailant standing in front of her, wearing a mask of anger few had ever seen on the girl’s face.

“Aki?” This time it was Natoko who didn’t know how to react. Lying there, she watched as the girl walked up to her, looking like a strange menacing schoolgirl, ready to pound her into submission.

“You get out of Natoko right now,” the younger girl shouted, her words bewildering everyone around her.

“What?” Otsune said, moving over now trying to stop Aki from doing something stupid.

“You’re not Natoko. Go away.” Aki looked angry and hurt, Natoko the same. Both looks changed a second later as Natoko’s features twisted in contempt, slapping the girl before she had time to react and knocking her to the floor.

“Smart girl,” Natoko said calmly, “but far too late.” Lifting her sword into the air, intending to strike the girl down, intending to strike them all down, she only stopped when she saw Aki’s face, switching from a look of anger to one that was looking behind Natoko’s shoulder and into the sky.

“Everyone get out of the way.”

The crash of expensive windows came from above, stopping everything as all eyes turned upon it to see Sagara falling out of the building. Only there for a second longer, his forward momentum tossed him off and threw him as far as it could. A few meters behind him, everyone saw the gust of steam that was the Burning Waterball, still chasing him as strong as ever. Flying off the roof, slashing in various directions but still keeping its whole as it bounded off the roof without the same concern about gravity that Sagara’s body was currently having, the water followed its target.

Everyone scattered save Natoko, even Aki quickly getting up to make a dash for it. The swordgirl merely stood in disbelief at Sagara’s presence, surprised that he was still alive and currently falling towards her like the giant boulder. He was on top of her in the next second, throwing her to the floor and crashing them both into the ground and pinning her arms down. “Except you. You stay here.”

“What are you doing?” she cried out. “Get off of me… Not again.” Struggling fiercely, the girl could do only that. He was simply too heavy for her.

“In a minute. In a minute. I just have to let this thing hit all three of us,” he said calmly, nodding his head backwards in the direction of the sky. Picking up on this, Natoko looked behind Sagara to see the flaming ball of blue energy coming towards the both of them. She started struggling again, as hard as it was futile.

“No please, not again…” her eyes welled up with tears, as she pushed against him as much as she could, a prisoner trapped.

“Ah, don’t strain yourself,” he said, squatting over her like a frog ready to jump. “I’ll be off you in a moment, demon.”

“What? How did you?” she cried out, as the blast of cool water cascaded over her, slamming into the ground at around the same time the ninja bounced away. Like her very skin was burning, the girl screamed loudly, convulsing as her body began to steam, shuddering violently and clawing away at the ground like she was on the verge of a cliff. The blast of aquatic energy was gone as quickly as it had appeared. The girl still shuddered on the floor, straining her arms like something was holding her down, crying out as water began to eject from her lungs.

Even with her actions earlier, Aki was already running up to help her friend, only to be stopped by Sagara’s hand as she got close enough..

“Don’t,” he said, now appearing serious. “Just wait.”

Looking down to her friend, who was still going through her little fit, Aki watched, almost mesmerized, seeing blue and red steam coming out of Natoko’s mouth in little puffs that made it look like her friend had smoked something beyond merely illegal was smoking. It oozed out slowly at first, drifting upwards as a haze, but then the girl starting choking actual fluids out of her mouth. Sagara’s hand had to tense up over her shoulder to hold her back, and Aki saw it all began to flow upward as a mini waterfall, the water magically started to rise out of her mouth and began merging with the form that was building up just a few feet above her mouth.

As the last of the liquid coming out of her mouth joined the spherical object above her, the ball of steam and liquid began mutating, pulsing solar flares of water as it grew larger, forming the shape of a woman.

Like a badly carved statue, its features were very slight and it was only the small curves on what had to be her chest that proved her gender. She, if it could be called that, seemed to be failing to form any legs and instead grew a little tail as the liquid trailed off. As the form completed itself, it stared at the group staring right back at it for a few seconds, before turning towards Sagara.

“Bastard! Ho…h-how?” she asked, her voice like a hissing crone, giving the impression of throat cancer. “How did you know…”

“I could see it,” he replied simply. “She had two spirits.”

“What?” the creature shouted, scaring a few of the others, who were not fully sure what they were looking at. “You saw….”

“I wasn’t that sure at the beginning, but creating a big ball of energy like that from nowhere was sort of a big giveaway.” He looked back to his unconscious opponent on the floor. “Although the purifying thing was hers I think. Would you have been able to do that?”

Growling at this, they all watched as stream rose from the spirit’s body, as if she was boiling herself just by getting irritated. The rest of the group had found themselves slowly walking closer, entranced by what was before them. Most of them had never seen anything like this before, the only thing coming close being the strange noises they occasionally heard at night that were not telepathic ghosts. It was hard to judge if it was dangerous or not, and most found themselves looking to Sagara for some sort of clue. Sagara was being calm, but it was becoming hard to tell if that was dangerous or not either.

“Wh-what is it?” Otsune asked, before remembering her manners. “Who are you?” Hesitating, the creature floated a bit higher, keeping its distance.

“I… was once called Naomi. Anything else is none of your business,” the creature replied sullenly. It was looking around, seeming to have little idea of what to do next.

“She’s a water spirit,” Sagara said, not looking away from the creature. “They’re able to possess humans. She took control of your friend here.” He hesitated for a second, looking at her through his green eyes. “But she’s also human. That’s weird…”

“Took control…how?” Otsune asked, more concerned for the potential danger that whatever concerns Sagara was having.

“I don’t know,” Sagara replied with a shrug. “But it makes sense. The human body consists of around seventy to eighty percent water. If you were to control that, you could take control of the whole person. Everything that they do would become yours to affect, and they may not even notice you’re doing it. Since she’s 100% water, it would have been child’s play to make herself part of a person.”

“So that’s why?” Aki mumbled, kneeling down to her friend’s body. “Amazing.”

“Huh?” Sagara said confused, also with how Aki had walked around him without him noticing to kneel down to the slowly breathing body of her friend.

“Earlier, Natoko came in soaking wet, yet it hasn’t been raining for the past few days,” Aki said. The smile was on her face again. She knew her friend was better now, though she didn’t currently look it. Sagara said nothing, probably mentally cursing himself on how he hadn’t realized it himself.

“She should have been paying attention, the stupid bitch,” Naomi said, still hovering above them all.

“Hey,” cried Otsune. “What right do you have insulting-”

“If she hadn’t been so angry,” the water spirit interrupted. “Then she would have noticed that there was only one rain cloud above her, just a few feet above her head. But she was so angry after losing to you so easily- it was, as you say, child’s play to possess her after she let the rage take control of her.”

“And… what are your own ends?” Otsune asked, feeling a bit scared of the whole situation. She felt amazed at how everyone was remaining calm, the only other person to seem worried was Sakura. Everyone else just looked interested.

“My ends?” she said, anger dripping from her liquid mass. “Revenge.”

“Revenge?” Otsune repeated, ignoring Fujiko’s small scoff of laughter.

“Revenge against all the men of this world. All those that have treated women with contempt and tried to control us just for their petty lusts. Centuries ago, I was made a geisha at an early age.” Her voice fell shrill and hard to hear from below. “My father thought it would be great for me to work as a servant girl for a local feudal lord, but the monster had other, more sickening plans for me. I was only thirteen when it happened. All for their petty lusts.”

“What happened?” Fujiko asked. It sounded like the spirit was crying as it told its story.

“None of your concern,” the water spirit shouted, suppressing everyone. “I shouldn’t have to speak to ignorant morons like you, who let men live with them, lust at them, rape them!”

“That’s enough,” groaned Sagara, his voice loud enough to prevent her from continuing. “Sheesh, if you think they’re ignorant you should try and tell them, not insult them like this.”

“You dare?” the spirit growled, beginning to rise higher into the air.

“Or maybe even open your eyes ears and listen for yourself instead of falling into hate,” he replied calmly. “Whatever your problems in the past were doesn’t explain nor forgive why you possessed this girl. Not to mention that I’ve never lusted after or raped anyone… At least, I don’t think I have.” Naomi looked at him angrily before responding.

“I needed someone like me, someone who hated men too.”

“Natoko doesn’t hate men…” Aki started, the spirit scoffing stopping her words.

“She certainly doesn’t harbour any good will towards them. I can sense her feelings even now. She doesn’t know that many and those she does know she dislikes for some reason or another. But hatred wasn’t necessary to possess her, I only needed anger and a strong body.”

“Well, now you don’t,” Sagara said simply and with a grin. “So why don’t you get out of here.”

“What?” the spirit said surprised.

“Well we certainly don’t want you around here, and if you’re not a demon, I guess I’m not supposed to handle you. Though I am confused as to what you even are.” He seemed bemused for a moment, honestly uncertain. “I can’t just destroy an angry spirit that’s having trouble confronting traumatic experiences it faced in the past. That’ll get me in a whole world of trouble, especially with my mom.”

“Sagara, I don’t think you want to be annoying an all powerful demon,” Fujiko said quietly.

“It’s not a demon. Natoko would be dead otherwise,” Sagara replied smiling. “It’s just a spirit, and certainly not all-powerful. We both know she can’t possess anyone for a short while. Basics rules of Kotodama.”

Growling once more, the spirit began rising up into the air, clearly intending to leave, knowing it had been defeated. Looking up, it was almost hard to see her with the sun in the way. She called out to them one last time.

“I will return, male. I may not be able to have my revenge on the one who ruined me but I can on you. You will see me again. And you will pay for this humiliation with your life.”

“I’ll look forward to it” Sagara replied, waving, appearing completely unconcerned. “See ya around.”

After this it went quiet, it took some of the group a few seconds to notice she had gone. With the sun obscuring their vision, they hadn’t seen her flying off.

“See you around?” Otsune repeated, with a glare in her eyes to the naïve boy.

“What?” he said defensively. “It was a good fight.”

“Where’d she go?” Fujiko asked, blinded by the both the sun and her squinted eyes.

“Probably to a source of water. She can’t last that long outside, especially on a hot day like today,” Sagara said, walking up to Natoko and picking her still unconscious body. “Come on. Let’s take her to her room.”

“Will she be okay?” Aki whimpered quizzically, looking like a mewling cat.

“She should be fine,” Sagara replied in a reassuring way. “She’ll need a lot of water though. The spirit probably took about six pints with her.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aki said, dashing off ahead, grabbing a hot springs bucket as she did.

“Not too much.” Sagara shouted after her. “Just a cup for now.” The rest of the group followed quietly behind as they re-entered Heavenly Springs, the battle over, but with many questions remaining, probably to do with how corny the spirit was being.

Act One – Chapter Three

The next day started as most days did in the world. And let’s be honest you all know what happens, so let’s skip the sunrise bit. Slowly shifting into first gear, Sagara’s body woke up with the sun glaring through his window like a peeping tom, who had just realized that it wasn’t a girl’s room it was looking into, but then realized that it didn’t actually mind.

Sitting up, his first thoughts were to tumble out of his mouth as a line of drool, emptying his brain and knocking him straight back out. Acting on its own, his body proceeded to crawl over to the door as it completely refused to let him stand up, insisting that it was okay thst he have a lie in as his arms did their morning exercises. Crawling up to and leaning against the door, they slowly pushed themselves up it in order to pull down the door handle.

Which didn’t actually exist of course. The doors at the Heavenly Springs slid open, but his body wasn’t to know that. They had enjoyed a peaceful, uncomplicated life of using little brass knobs to make their way through rooms and they weren’t going to switch just because a different culture insisted upon it. It wasn’t until convenience struck and he lent on the edge of the door that it finally opened enough to slide the unconscious body through before completely falling back on the floor. The hands began sliding the body across the wooden floors of the Heavenly Springs youth dormitory, which had been expertly polished by its landlord.

It may have been a normal enough scene for anyone that knew the boy, but it caused Aki to stare at the mass of limbs in front of her with the same mixed expression of amusement and bewilderment that one usually reserved for car accidents. Letting her toothbrush remain hanging out of her mouth as the boy’s body crawled to the toilet, the young girl took a moment to examine the water she had just gotten from the tap for anything suspicious in it that could cause Sagara to do snake impressions, or at the very least, to cause her to hallucinate that Sagara was doing snake impressions.

His shadow flickering back and forth as it appeared to try and edge his body to wake up, Sagara chose to lay there, his limbs feeling as heavy as mountains and just as immobile, yet still moving all the same. Aki didn’t understand this, and turned round to find another bathroom to spit into.

This time his legs, which had also begun to wake up, began to push the mass of the teenager’s body across the shiny floor in the direction of the bathroom, which, luckily enough, was a few feet away and did have a door handle. The left hand made an attempt to grab hold of the metal object and let gravity take effect as it fell upon it, opening the wooden door with a loud creak that clearly didn’t come from the hand. The crawling continued over to the sink and to a trained scientist in the field of astronomy it would seem strange if not impossible how a body would have any knowledge of a sink in a room it has never been in before without the aid of any senses. This was only relevant to the astronomer however and thus ignored, especially by the hand, which had now gained enough leverage to push its body up enough to allow the head to rest in the sink. The hand started to turn the tap on as the water started to pour on its owners face. It had no instant effect, but as the bowl filled, water began to enter those holes in which Sagara used for breathing 95% of the time. It was only when his lungs began to drown did Sagara finally woke himself up.

Jumping up and coughing profusely, Sagara thought of nothing, mainly due to desperation caused by nearly drowning in an embarrassing three inches of water. When he finally had stopped choking, he found himself wondering where he was, having never been in one of the many bathrooms of this dormitory before (which made last night suspicious). A quick look outside the door to the corridor beyond revealed his answer to him. With that sorted, he promptly fell back to sleep, no reason left to stay awake, landing with a thud onto the hall floor.

 

Half an hour later, the body of Sagara was guided into the main dining room of the hotel with the assistance of a now fully roused mind, ready to start a fresh new day with more of the exercise stuff that would soon end him up with the same problems as he faced half an hour ago. Gen had told him they all ate together here, and he had experienced a delicious meal of some strange things that he didn’t quite understand in a soup bowl just last night, enjoying it with just the company of his cousin, Otsune and an intoxicated Fujiko who didn’t seem to care too much for her clothing.

As with all Japanese buildings, the room was rather large and yet relatively simple, similar to a rhinoceros or dinner lady. It was split into three areas, the first section consisted of the three piece, black leather suite that Gen had been proud about buying for the dormitory girls. There was also a coffee table, a TV, which underneath held a vast quantity of electronic goodies including a karaoke machine, a girl whose name escaped him like a convict jumping out the corridors of his memory and into a blue ocean of forgetfulness, and a rather large DVD collection. The next part was a dining table with six seats. The table had been partly set and it looked like it was being prepared for breakfast. It seemed the breakfast was being made up in the next part of the room, split off by a set of empty doors and window frames. Inside it was the entrance to the kitchen, where there was another girl.

The girl whose head was currently hidden under the television, a scene which could have only been made more alarming if there were a pool of blood spreading out from under the electronics tower, didn’t respond to his presence as he passed her. It looked like she was trying to fix something, whistling a happy, completely out of tune melody that encroached on his tone deaf ears with unwelcome cacophony. He moved on to the kitchen, where another girl was cooking peacefully to herself, stirring around soup in the pot of the stove.

Being unable to remember this girl’s name, Sagara was completely unsure if he had even met her. She looked to be about twelve years old, making her possibly the youngest member of the hotel he had met so far. Even so, it was hard to remember if he had seen her. There had been a lot of girls meeting him last night, and they were all starting to blur together, forming the ultimate female monster that could destroy the world, allowing the great Black queen to rule over its remains unless he called upon his giant robot Nikuzoid to save the day. Not wanting to offend the girl if he had forgotten, he figured an open approach would be the best way to get food.

“Hey.”

The scream that emitted from her mouth was about as welcome as a triple heart bypass to his left leg, and Sagara immediately feared for his safety, wondering whether or not he should call upon his robot weapon now, and fight her off with his meaty blade of justice before she transformed into her giant form.

“What do you want?” she replied, shuddering in the corner of the room she had jumped to. He decided against summoning, knowing that to do so would only accelerate the monster’s growth. Instead, he spoke to her.

“I just came to say hello,” he told her, holding his hands up to signify he was harmless, despite being able to kill her at least fifty two and a half different ways with each hands. “Mom always said to introduce myself to people who feed me food, except in restaurants.”

“Er, hello,” she said, her voice still full of worry. It was like she was an Iuga, he probably thought, which sucked intelligence out of people by vibrating violently near them. Sticking his hand out to her like a suicide expert would do to a rabid dog, he smiled as she took his hand, and helped the girl back up. Looking embarrassed at her actions, it took her a moment to speak again. Sagara took this moment to try and remember if he knew her or not.

“I’m Sakura Tamburo,” she said timidly, bowing slightly. “Pleased to meet you.”

Excellent. He hadn’t met her, nor had he bothered to remember her name as she said it.

“Sagara Futabatei,” he replied, bowing along with her. Mom had also warned him of the bowing thing. They only used it in the village during important rituals, but they apparently used it all the time here. The lower the better was the general rule.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked him, now smiling a little as she calmed down.

“Yes please,” he answered quickly, relishing the smell that could kill off most violent bad smells in mere instants with its super powerful energy ball attack. He couldn’t see what was cooking, as it was covered by the lid, but it smelled really, really yummy. Seeing his reaction, Sakura giggled lightly.

“I meant cereal,” she said, pointing over to one of the cupboards and coming closer to her death than she had ever been in that one, brief moment.

“I can’t have this?” he whimpered, looking over the metal pots on the stove.

“It isn’t for breakfast. This is just me practicing.”

“You practice cooking?”

“Yeah, when I grow up it’s my dream to be a chef and open up an Italian Restaurant, so I do it when I can.”

“Italian?” Now that he looked, it looked to be spaghetti bubbling away in the pot. In another, tomatoes bubbled away in a pan laden with mince, the onions eliciting a smell which made his tongue want to kill her and take it all for himself.

“This isn’t exactly practice I guess. It’s for the service we’re holding at my church this evening. Ah, you should come.”

“I should?” Sagara replied, his mind trying to jump away from the conversation and into the pan of boiling spaghetti.

“Yeah, you don’t know anyone here, do you? You’ll meet plenty of people there.”

“What type of church is it?” he asked tentatively. Noticing this, Sakura seemed hesitant.

“It’s for Catholics. But that doesn’t matter, you can still come.”

“No. I can’t. Thank you.”

“But…”

“No,” he replied sternly, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain. Pulling back dejectedly, Sakura stared down to the floor.

“S-s-sorry,” she whimpered, sniffing louder than she had spoken so far. Sagara watched with mild bewilderment as the girl inhaled quickly, looking like she was about to cry. “I…I didn’t…”

She was crying, her sniffs quickly turning to rejected sobbing and finally a hand covering her face as she went to get away, trapped in the dead end side of the kitchen. With little to no idea of what to do, Sagara looked towards the sofa, to find Aki no longer there. He then looked towards the pot, which was bubbling. With no other idea in his mind, he moved up beside her and grabbed her in his arms, trying his best not to imagine turning her upside down and thrusting her head into the pot, instantly scalding her head and doing severe brain damage as scorching water came in through her eyes, thus solving the tears problem.

He held her tightly, feeling her struggle for a second, before giving up and embedding her eyes onto his chest, letting herself blubber away in front of a total stranger. He had no idea how he made her cry, and it didn’t look like he’d be able to stop it. “Sorry about this,” she huffed on his stomach. “Sorry. I’m so silly.” Hearing her apologies, he didn’t answer, instead looking desperately around the room for someone to magically appear and help him get this problem off his chest.

The creaking of the floor indicated a newcomer to the room. There, standing by the door frame, stood the sword girl that had attacked him the day before, now even wetter than she had been then. Entering the room, clutching her sword as if someone was pulling on the other end and she didn’t want them to have it, she stared firmly at the new guy, with a look of disgust plainly written on her face, although not in biro.

“What the blazes do you think you are doing?” she shouted at him. Her voice booming through the small kitchen, causing the girl in his arms to shift to see who it was. Both saw Natoko look even more horrified as she witnessed the girl’s tear stricken face.

“Monster!” she declared. “You come in here and you…”

***

“…seemed to have calmed down a little, haven’t they?”

“I’m glad. At least the place won’t get burned down by crazy old people… for now” Gen’s voice turned to a mutter, seeing an angry Natoko clutching her sword at its hilt, threatening to pull it and decapitate Sagara in the same moment. What had they just missed?

“No, Natoko,” Sakura screamed out, her cheeks sore with tears. “It’s okay. I just got a little silly again and…”

“It’s okay, Sakura. You’re not the one at fault here,” Natoko said, interrupting the younger girl through seething teeth and a finger pointed directly at Sagara. “This cowardly freak is. I see your sickness for what it is now. I was ready to look past yesterday as an accident, but twice in a row is just too much of a coincidence.”

“Well, coincidence changes on how you look at it-”

“Silence!” she voice boomed, growling at the so called ninja as her hand fell back to her sword. “I can’t stand people like you, going about and trampling over people like they were objects. It’s things like this that’s getting the whole village alienating us.”

“No really,” Sakura piped up again, looking around frantically as everyone stood back, all too shocked to do anything. She barely noticed her own shivering as she defended the newcomer. “He really, really was just being nice. I…”

“Don’t be fooled, Sakura!” Natoko said sternly. “That’s how these jackals work. “Trying to be nice to you just to lull you into false security. All so they can have their way with you, just for their sick needs…”

“Natoko, calm down,” Gen insisted, not wanting a misunderstanding leading to a full on firefight with such expensive furniture around the room. He fell back as Natoko turned her gaze on him, but continued despite his bladder insisting it give up on him. “If Sagara’s done something wrong, or if there’s been a little misunderstanding, then I’m sure we can settle it peacefully- without destroying the room I spent last week decorating.” There was a general murmur of agreement around the room, with the exception of Aki, who had left to dispose of a banana peel.

“Very well,” the sword wielding teenager confirmed, brushing her short black hair back, the sweat matting it into place. “Is there anything you would like to say in order to redeem yourself, ninja?”

All eyes turned to Sagara, the traditional wave of silence entering the room. Even if Sagara had wanted to say something straight away, the wave wouldn’t have allowed him to, since it was dedicated to the art of soap drama.

“Erm… No, not really. I just grabbed her. It was kind of instinctive.”

“Die!” Natoko replied unsurprisingly, her blade leaving the sheath during the few milliseconds Sagara said ‘was’, the metal swinging towards him at great speed. Barely giving Sakura enough time to get out of the way, Sagara swung to the side, letting the sword travel back his nose before recoiling back to its owner, where it immediately shot out again to remove the exact amount of chest flesh required to kill a man from the side. Sagara only just had enough time to jump out of the way, landing next to the dinner table, a distraught Gen and Otsune quickly jumping out of the way.

“Stand still,” Natoko grumbled, losing him for a second as she turned around to meet a fist heading for her face. Fortunately, her own movement was enough for her to get out of the way just in time, and Sagara was too busy skidding to show her a follow up.

“Why should I?” Sagara asked politely. “You’re not even fighting properly.” She verbally growled, detesting the cocky attitude that seemed to mock everything she was fighting for in that moment. Raising her katana above her head, she took a step forward and swung it down at him, releasing all her energy in a cry.

He caught it, finger and thumb lodging the blade between them as if he were holding a penny. Despite herself, she looked up to his face, and realized that, technically he didn’t even had to have caught it off her. His arm was stretched so far out that his body wouldn’t have been touched by the sword.

“You won’t beat me like this.”

“Let go of Iziz!” she muttered breathlessly, seeing him touch her pride.

“That its name?” he asked, as if taken aback by curiosity all of a sudden. “How do you pronounce that again?”

“Let go!” A shout this time, surprising him enough to slip slightly, and allowing her to slip the blade past his fingers with little force. She watched as, in a blur, Iziz thudded to the floor, his fingers barely getting out the way in time.

“Ow!” he screamed out, like he had stubbed his toe, his hand shrinking back with the same speed he had caught it. “Ow, ow, ow,” he continued to whine, inching back and clutching the hand in his armpit as if it could contain the leakage of crimson now seeping out. Natoko wasn’t calm enough to let this opportunity pass her by, and pushed her right leg into the so called ninja, knocking him into one of the dinner chairs and rolling him next to the crouch, where he leaned back, looking as if he had barely noticed being attacked.

The sword landed with a sharp thud, as it embedded into the leather sofa, around three inches from where Sagara’s face was. His eyes darted over to it, and she smiled as she reclaimed her victory.

“I have won,” she stated simply. “Leave this place. This is not your home.”

The air was broken as she removed her sword, going to leave him sitting there, the others looking around disturbed by all that had just happened in the pace of thirty seconds. It wasn’t until Sagara kicked her legs out from under her that he replied.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t win? The sword completely missed me.” He grabbed hold of her shoulder tightly. “And from such close range too.”

“You…” She wanted to say coward, but the words were held back as more air was released, his fist reaching her stomach and slamming into it. She lurched over, but quickly recovered. Her sword still outside its holster, she swung the hilt into his face, the sword’s end cracking into her opponent’s jaw and knocking him straight back down.

“What a pathetic creature you are,” she said, quickly recomposing herself. “A villain who takes advantage of an opponent’s mercy like that deserves nothing.”

“What mer-” but the confused sentence was cut short, as he saw the sword coming to meet with his neck, and not for a discussion about the demeanor of French politics either, but something only slightly worse. There was no time to avoid it, and he could only watch as a small bundle of cotton shot in front of him, causing the blade to stop in its path, just an half an inch in front of a little girl’s nose.

“Stop it please,” Sakura shouted, her hands stretched wide as if they could defend the man behind them and not just get mutilated in the same stroke required to kill him, knees trembling as she saw the blade now hovering inches from her face.

“Get out of the way, Sakura,” Natoko said, doing her best to remain calm, despite her confusion as to why this resident was protecting him. The sword came closer to the girl’s face, and Natoko had to steady herself to make sure it didn’t touch her.

Sagara only waited a moment before acting. Pushing the child in front of him into his opponent, he watched as Natoko’s eyes went wide with shock, and quickly slipped her large knife to its back, the young resident falling on its blunt side harmlessly, before the ninja quickly jumped back up and went to punch the swords woman. Knuckles connected to her face as Natoko felt her jaw go loose under her nose. It felt like her entire body went numb from the one shock, and she fell backwards two steps, only being able to keep up by falling on her ankle and rocking back.

Sakura had quickly got off the sword, bouncing aside in fright as she realized what happened, and backing away from the both of them. Natoko dove forwards, her hands raised.

“Stop this now!” Otsune shouted, stepping in between the two fighters. “What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” She turned to Sagara, her face scrunched up with anger. “How could you even do that? Pushing a child towards a sword like that?”

“I want you out of here, creature,” Natoko said sternly.

“I suppose I should be wanting you out too,” he replied, getting up and walking over to Sakura, his hand resting on her head.

“What?” the swordgirl gasped, before her face curled in anger, her hand clutching the hilt so hard it might draw blood. “You dare…”

Otsune quickly stepped in again, despite a vision telling her that she might be about to spend the rest of her life in two pieces. “Stop! No fighting,” she cried out, letting her hands hover over both participants faces. “Settle this like rational human beings!”

“Very well,” Natoko said, a few seconds of silence filling the room with factory standard anticipation. “Sagara Futabatei, I challenge you to a duel.”

“That’s not rational!” Otsune shouted back, before the ninja could reply. “It’s just stupidity planned out in advance.”

“I accept,” Sagara replied without hesitation.

“No. No accepting!” Otsune called out, slowly beginning to realize that she might no longer be part of the conversation.

“At midday today. In the dry area by the hot springs. Your cousin can show you if you don’t know where that is. If you win, you will be allowed to remain at Heavenly Springs and do as you wish with me. If you lose however, I will be allowed to do what I want with you- and I don’t intend to just toss you out.”

“Are you crazy?” Otsune piped in. “You plan to kill him? You can’t do that.” Even though Otsune felt a little compelled to allow that course of action herself. “He’s a guest, just like us. He hasn’t even done anything to you.” Natoko turned to face her elder, anger and confusion warping on her face at the girl’s words. “Besides, it should be up to Gen who stays and who goes.”

Gen sprung to attention at this, mumbling to himself, pressing his forefingers together as he thought of something to say.

“Well, er….. I guess,” he stammered.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, guys,” Sagara called out calmly, as all eyes turned to him. He hadn’t stopped staring at Natoko the entire time. “I’ll fight. Sounds like fun.”

“Fun?” Otsune. “She just…”

“Well, I guess there are other reasons,” he interrupted her.

“And what would they be?” Natoko spoke back, anger in her voice this time.

“You know more than me,” Sagara turned and walked out the room, making a beeline for his bedroom. “See you at midday.” Natoko watched with the others, until he was out of earshot, slowly replacing her weapon into its sheath, the slow movement creating a screeching sound.

“I will be up on the roof. Please do not disturb me until it is time,” she said, exiting to the left, leaving the people in the room motionless like an evil villain had frozen them all with freeze spray. All except for Aki, who had moved to the window to continue eating, happily muttering to herself.

“Dammit!” Otsune growled, her frustration caught in her hair as her hands threatened to pull it out. “Freaks. Both of them freaks! What kind of morons schedule a fight to the death? Everyone’s a freak, even you. Especially you.”

“Er… sorry,” Gen apologised.

“I mean, am I missing something here?” she complained, heading for the door. “Even if demons do exist, it’s not like our laws have changed or anything. What isn’t there to understand? They’re going to kill each other. It’s illegal.”

“What? Demons?”

Her voice drowned off into the distance, Gen quickly accompanying the two girls, and leaving Sakura alone again. She shuddered at the thoughts surrounding her, barely noticing that her spaghetti was overflowing.

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