From the minute I'd laid eyes on him, I knew he was going to be trouble.
It was dusk, and I was on top of a cliff: it provided the best bird's eye view of the golden-green hills below. I distinctly remember the last rays of sun spilling over my sketch of the landscape, and thinking that I would return to my room back in town. Continuing to work in changing lighting was unprofessional- I wasn't trying to be Picasso. Not only would it ruin the shading, but the entire perspective of the piece would be inaccurate if I was unable to see properly. Also, I wanted to get to town before dark, it was several miles away, and even if it was a more pleasant area of demon world, the nastier beasts tended to come out at night.
Irate by the obnoxious delay, I nevertheless maintained perfectly calm body language as I became aware of the sound of footsteps approaching from behind me. I turned and observed the stranger, and was shocked to find that he was a human. He was had an average height and build, brown eyes, black hair, seemed to be in his mid-thirties, undistinguished facial features, and no scars or birthmarks anywhere to be seen. He was sweating and out of breath from the hike up.
I recall determining three possible reasons for this: he was putting on an act either to lull me into a false sense of security or to hide his true strength, he truly was nonathletic and relied on a fighter to protect him, or he had some psychic ability that could be used defensively in a violent situation.
Red-faced, he clutched his knees and did a cross between a bow and a squat.
"Good evening. Forgive my prying, but am I addressing Madam Kimiko, shape-changer and secret-keeper?"
"I am her," I said cautiously, his polite greeting somehow making me more alert than if he had attacked me. I deduced from his looks and speech that he was from the human's Japan. I thought at the time he might have been one of Sensui's freaks.There have been several instances of mutated humans crossing over after the wall between the worlds was abolished.
"No offense, but do you have proof? Identification or something?"
I didn't say anything. I felt it was distasteful for strangers to demand such things without stating why they felt like they deserved such information. That it was a human was added further insult. If word got around that you let humans give you lip, well, don't expect an ounce of decency from anybody. The only thing that kept me from killing him for that was his tone: it was completely devoid of arrogance. If it had been in anyway condescending or disrespectful...
Well, that is not quite true. I was a little curious about that human. I've lost count of times I've regretted my decision that day. My lips drew into a displeased line, but I reached into my "pocket" dimension and pulled out my most current notebook.
He drew back in surprise. I got the feeling he had expected me to use my...other, notorious ability, but I digress. "So you can manipulate space. I assumed it was just a rumor."
I ignored that and opened to the first page. It was innocuous at first glance, just the layout of the spirit world library. That is, until the realization of only authorized personnel (of whom I am certainly not amongst) are allowed to carry maps of the various sections. It's funny, half of their security is just relying on people having no idea where things are; their library itself is chaotic, organized in a code that only employees are taught. Doubtless most of this was lost on him, but the human seemed impressed anyways.
"I'm convinced. But why choose that form? Surely not many people take you seriously like that?"
I felt myself becoming dangerously annoyed. Surely this human knew better than to antagonize a demon, especially one he needed something from? "It's none of your business," my tone was cold. "Is there a reason for this interrogation, or are you just wasting my time?"
"Ah, of course, my name is Yoshiki Fukazawa, and I would like to buy some information from you." He said.
"Obviously. About whom or what do you want to know about. For your information, I reserve the right to refuse service, and the value of each fact is contingent on many things, so they will be negotiated separately." I was quickly losing patience. Customers were customers, but if his request was inane as his introduction then I very much doubted I would help him. At the same time I couldn't help but be unnerved by him, maybe because of his humanity or the unsettling confidence that was present in everything he said. I hope he is not a religious extremist.
"What do you know about Yoko Kurama?" The look in his eyes was, indeed, fanatical.
My unease grew. "Enough to know he's a dangerous enemy to make. Why him?"
The phony smile on his face set off tremors of discomfort in my stomach.
"I am going to kill him," he said.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins as the feeling of danger slammed into me at these words. I never give out information that would be used in murders. For one, it is dangerous if the attempted murder fails and the would-be victim decides that I am an enemy, or the would-be murderer escapes decides my information was faulty and marks me as a target. It's doubly dangerous if the murder succeeds and the family or allies of the victim come after me in revenge. I detest blood feuds. Either way, it damages my reputation, and for someone whose business depends largely on being able to get information out of strangers, that is truly frightening. Not to mention it goes against my moral code.
Carefully, I got ready to jump into my pocket dimension.
"My apologies, but I'm afraid I can't help you." I saw a flash of anger in his eyes, and once again got the feeling of danger from this man. "There are many reasons why I cannot. But rest assured, your identity will not be revealed to anyone who might do you harm." I did not wait to hear his response, but transported myself and my things away.
I floated in the darkness. I thought "light" and gradually the void around me was bleached to gray. I thought of all the things I had stored in here over the years and they were suddenly floating beside me, in that never-ending expanse of gray. I imagined a wooden floor, and when it appeared, I thought "gravity" and felt a force gently pulling me and my possessions down. There were piles of junk haphazardly scattered around the floor. I then imagined walls becoming the background, and warm electric lamplight instead of the eerie, sourceless kind that was currently filling the room. I sat shivering on the floor with my legs under me and thought, "heat". When I was comfortable I got up and sat with my legs criss-crossed and pondered my next move.
It was my policy to inform the intended victim that they were being targeted, while never naming the person who would do them harm. There were several difficulties in this case due to having such a high-profile person. I cursed Fukazawa, and wondered how on earth he had heard about me. I'm well-known to certain groups and private organizations, but I'm by no stretch of the imagination famous, or even considered above average. I'm good at what I do, but nothing exceptional.
No matter. The real issue at hand was how to inform Kurama while keeping mine and Fukazawa's identities anonymous. The fox demon has a reputation for cold ruthlessness, and I wasn't sure he wouldn't shoot the messenger. Recently, that is for about the past three decades, various sources claimed that he was gentler, more merciful due to living in the human world, however I wasn't about to take that chance. Besides, it probably was an act. I don't know why he would choose to do that, but he is not considered by many to be one of the most cunning demons of all time for nothing.
Thinking of human world made me simultaneously hot and cold, and I felt nauseated. I had left North America in 1975 in fear for my life. I never had been to Japan or any other continent or island. I knew Japanese due to the shared heritage many demons have with the culture of that curious country, but other than that I was ignorant of their societal expectations. That scared me to a biological level. Every shape-changer knows that it is to blend in or die.
Not to mention Kurama's allies, equally as famous in demon world. Jin and Touya and various other king candidates, Kuwabara, who took over Genkai's role and reputation after her death in '04, Hiei, whose blood-lust was legendary, Yusuke, who was king six years ago and whose only reason for not being in power was a refusal to participate in the tournament for personal reasons, Koenma, the fucking god child, and God knows how many minions in both human and demon world. Thinking about it, I nearly called the whole thing off. But I steeled myself and held my resolve.
If I compromise my morals even once, then they'll be right won't they. Taking a deep breath, I committed myself to the task.
The only way I could possibly do this relatively safely was to shape-change into a human. As a human, it would be illegal to attack me physically, according to demon world laws. Swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth at the thought, I dug a dusty old mirror out of a stack of old newspapers and examined my reflection.
I was in more or less my "natural" form, a demon shape-changer (the only telling sign in my energy signature, otherwise I look like a normal humanoid demon) with only minor alterations with my body.
I have a fair complexion, but due to my long hours in the sun doing field work I developed a tan, and freckles. My hair is black and I recently dyed multicolored streaks in it. It is cut short and gelled into careful tufts: messy, but still attractive. I have a oval face shape, good cheekbones, cupid's bow lips, and a straight nose. I'm wearing red lipstick. Eyebrows plucked to accentuate round eyes with heavy mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow. They are a deep, vibrant blue I've only ever seen on other demons. My face seems too angular, small, my eyes too large in them, due to too many missed meals I suppose. I refused to let my body mature out of its early to mid teens; short, thin, but old enough to lose some of the awkwardness, not a child's body anymore. My clothes are a mixture of neon colors and black, designed to shock the eye, with artful rips and asymmetrical patterns and hems. There are three piercings in each ear, and an ouroboros tattoo circling around my hips, and back, meeting at my bellybutton, with a faux diamond piercing in the place of its eye. Multicolor nail polish and disproportionally large yellow combat boots complete my image of a teen punk.
Don't mistake anything, hardly any of these choices were made out of vanity or fashion sense. My image is essential to first impressions. While the demons who seek me out professionally don't give a damn how I dress, foolish demons I interact on a daily basis with aren't as nonjudgmental. I accomplished the perfect balance of rebel and child. Dangerous-looking enough to other young demons that they leave me alone, but ridiculous enough to true warriors to be ignored as an opponent. While authority figures are a little put off by my style, it isn't so wild as to prejudice them against me completely, especially if I act perfectly respectful towards them.
I had to agree with Fukazawa, my appearance is unconventional, but luckily most demons are less concerned with appearance (at least compared to humans). Now my problem was to find a form appropriately nonthreatening, but not completely useless. I thought hard about what I knew of Kurama after he returned to the human world after the first king's tournament. He graduated from one of the best colleges for biochemistry, double majoring in biochemistry, medicine, with a minor in botany. He worked in a hospital for several years, and after earning his license to practice worked at a pharmaceutical company for a short while. After quitting his job there, he created his privately funded research facility, officially about genetic manipulation in plants to create natural medicine, but I have my doubts. Never married, no long term relationships with humans, one steady demon girlfriend, also a fox type, for about six months. Seemingly devoted to his human family, his mother in particular, he paid for his stepbrother's college education, and offered him a job after graduating, despite his stepbrother having majored in political science. Now the stepbrother works overseas for a charity organization.
I had the feeling I was forgetting something, and triumphantly I recalled hearing from on of my sources that the stepbrother was back in Japan. I wracked my mind for a reason why, and remembered that Kurama's human stepfather had died in a freak accident at an amusement park three months earlier. I made a mental note that Kurama might be stressed because of this, and his human family would definitely be grieving.
I would not disturb them.
Then I would have to meet him at his work. I thought about it for a while before deciding on a twenty-something woman of Asian descent, pale skin, black hair and eyes, average height. My cover would be a florist delivery, in gesture of sympathy as regards to the tragedy. I would give myself a maximum of three days in human world to find and tell Kurama of the threat made against him. Any longer and I would attract unwanted attention.
That decided I searched in vain for a clock. There is no sense of time in my dimension, and I had no idea if I had waited long enough for the man to give up and walk back to town. Deciding to risk it, I nevertheless grabbed a knife put it in my pocket.
It would be dark and dangerous things come out to play in the dark. There was a cold wind blowing, rustling the leaves as I reentered demon world. There was a half moon in the sky, but the light that filtered through the trees was so dim I could barely make out the cliff's edge. I could sense no other demons around for miles, which was unusual. A sense of foreboding prompted me to run all the way to the inn. I went to my room and took a bath, then went to bed.
I paid my bill the next morning and spread some rumors of having to leave to an isolated village to confirm some facts I read about a newspaper. Then traveled several towns over to avoid running into Fukazawa again. I was indecisive about what to do next, or who to go to for information on human world, despite the wall being abolished few demons traveled there. I went to a payphone and stared at it for a while, going through a list of my usual sources and not coming up with one name with the type of information I needed.
Then I thought of Koto, the games mistress for the Dark Tournament. Sometimes she contacts me for information on the new contestants; their reputation, abilities, infamous deeds and so on. She claims it's to get the publicity up so the crowd will get more riled one way or another.
It's almost exclusively for D to B class demons, while A to S class only participate in the King's Tournament. Because of that, it can still take place on the little island in human world and remain undetected. Recognizing that she was probably my best bet, I punched in the number to the keypad.
She answered on the third ring, "Hello, Koto speaking."
"Hello, This is Kimiko. I have an odd request for you." I said.
I queried the practical information I would need to know to travel in human world: how much money should I take for a three-day trip, what was the common mode of transportation, what clothes should I wear to blend in, etc.
She answered all of them and bid me good luck. I spent the rest of the day running errands for my trip. The first stop was exchanging several ounces of hard-earned gold into human currency, a couple of outfits (including the uniform of a local postal service worker), and made an appointment to create human identification papers. I would have done it on the spot, but I had not yet changed forms, so I claimed it was for my "sister". There was really nothing else to be done, aside from the actual shape-changing. I felt butterflies in my stomach and my head pounded at the thought.
I went into my pocket dimension. I grabbed a pack and filled it with all the things I would take. An enchanted lie detector in the shape of an earring, a gun and ammunition, the supplies I had bought earlier. I strip and look at myself on long moment before I stopped stalling and transformed.
A common misconception is that it is painful, or feels alien. It does not. It happens in less than a second, an explosion of light and color and sound and smell and pressurepressurepresssure BAM! It's done. After, I am thrown weightless into a sea of emotion, riding wave after wave. First comes euphoria, the giddiness and lightheadedness, a state of intoxication I would never be able to reproduce with drugs. Then it is fear, head pounding, heart stopping, irrational panic. Then is sadness, depression hits so hard so fast you don't even have time to weep. As you lay there, shivering in inexplicable sorrow, anger creeps in, and then crests until all you see is red. Sometimes it is gone like a gunshot, like you imagined the entire thing. Sometimes is fades gradually until all that is left is a bad mood, like a sour taste in the back of the mouth.
I pick my new, naked body off the floor. I mechanically put on one of the outfits I bought, and sit down. I take deep breaths and try to meditate to regain control of myself. My body shows a surprising amount of fatigue; I guess I was out of practice. A rumble reminds my of my neglectful eating habits. There was a box of energy bars somewhere around. I find it under several VHS tapes shoved under a rickety wooden chair. As I chew my way through five of bars, the fatigue increases dramatically, to the point where I fall asleep sprawled across the chair, with a half-eaten bar falling out of my hands. My last conscious thoughts were of the nerve-wracking task before me.