Shiro Fujimoto woke with a start, his silvery hair blocking his view. He pushed it blearily out of his face and looked around with sleep still in his eyes. He was sitting in the back of a Vatican helicopter on top of a pile of jackets.
"We're almost there, Mr. Fujimoto!" called the pilot from the cockpit.
"Where is there?" Shiro yawned, peering outside the window into the blinding sunlight.
The pilot laughed. "Don't cha know? You're headed to the Vatican!"
Shiro furrowed his brow. He didn't remember requesting a helicopter to the Vatican. He unstuck himself from the pile of jackets and stood up. All of his appendages were stiff from being squished against a metal wall and on top of some not very soft exorcist jackets. He cracked his knuckles and stared out over Rome. It was one of the last strongholds in Europe against the demons. Most of Europe and Asia had been completely lost over the years. People had been evacuated to the Americas and the last few strongholds. But everything seemed to be going well in the sunlit Rome.
"Hey, do you know why I'm being brought here?" he asked the pilot.
"No idea," said the pilot as he brought the helicopter into a swift descent, "All I know is that the Cardinal has summoned you for an urgent meeting."
Shiro shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He fumbled in his pockets for a lighter but came up empty handed. Sighing in exasperation, he turned to the pilot.
"You got a light?" he asked the pilot.
"No smoking on the plane!"
About twenty minutes later, Shiro stepped out of the helicopter and onto the landing pad. The wind whipped fiercely through his gray hair and he pushed it out of the way again irritably. A young assistant with strawberry blonde hair wearing a navy pencil skirt and blazer came striding toward him. She had emerald colored eyes and- as Shiro noticed immediately- very busty.
"Shiro Fujimoto?" she asked coolly.
"That's me," replied Shiro, grinning, "What can I do for you?"
"It's more what I can do for you. You will follow me to the Cardinal's office," she responded with a hint of ice.
"I'd follow you anywhere," he said.
She rolled her eyes and started off into the Vatican. He sped forward to keep up with her but everytime he got within five feet she walked significantly faster. She led him down long, winding hallways that were lighted by golden candelabras. The floors were covered by scarlet rugs that muffled all footsteps. The walls were made of a light wood and lined with Biblical paintings.
"Here we are," said the assistant coldly, gesturing to a large pair of wooden double doors with brass knockers.
"Hey do you want to go out sometime?" asked Shiro.
"Definitely not," she replied, shoving him through the doors.
He stumbled inside and grabbed a cabinet to steady himself. An older man was sitting at the desk with his hands folded. He was wearing scarlet and golden robes and had eyes the color of seawater.
"Hello, Fujimoto. Please sit down," said the Cardinal, gesturing to the seat in front of him.
Shiro sat. "Why've you called me here today?"
"That was a very powerful speech you made yesterday. Many people are now enrolling in exorcist training to be able to fight the demons. But unbeknownst to the people, in our current scenario the demons will end up victorious and most of the exorcists dead. I will be blamed for the death of all these people," he said.
Shiro's brown eyes widened. "B-but…" he stammered.
"I would like to change that scenario."
"Write an autobiography with a rags to riches story. People love that," said Fujimoto uncertainly.
"I don't want to sell myself. I want to sell the war. And what better way to do that than to put such an influential person in the thick of it all?" replied the Cardinal.
Shiro smiled nervously. "You're not talking about me, right?"
"Actually I am talking about you."
Shiro stood up forcefully. He didn't have a problem with exorcist jobs but a full blown war?! No way in all of Assiah was he going to fight in a war! "I won't do it," Shiro said defiantly.
"That's too bad. You're dismissed," said the Cardinal.
Shiro gritted his teeth and shoved the doors open again. He walked out and pulled out another cigarette.
"ARREST HIM!" shouted a man wearing black exorcist's robes. Shiro's head whipped around just in time to see every exorcist in the hallway pull out their weapons. Triggers were pulled and Fujimoto dived behind a cabinet. He pulled his own gun out of his belt and aimed it at the closet exorcist. His target cried out in pain and crashed into the wall. Shiro grinned to himself and aimed at the next exorcist. There was a loud bang, a searing pain in the back of Shiro's neck, and then everything went black.
"On your feet, maggot!"
Shiro's eyes flew open. He was laying on top of a pile of camouflage duffle bags. Silver handcuffs shackled his hands. A tall, blonde man wearing bright white robes was standing over him. A large bus trundled past in the background. On it was a picture of a brunette woman with teal eyes and a couple of moles on her face. Her expression was serious and she had a huge silver axe in one hand. Her armor was gray and blue and made her look very broad shouldered. Someone had spraypainted in scarlet the words 'FULL METAL BITCH' next to her picture. The person kicked him hard in the leg.
"Get up, maggot!"
Shiro struggled to his feet and met the icy blue eyes of the man. The blonde was holding a bundle of clothes and a pair of white boots.
"I am an Advanced Level Lower Class Exorcist. You have no right to call me a maggot," Shiro said through clenched teeth.
"Boys! Boys! This is no place to be fighting each other!" laughed a different voice. A man with dark hair and green eyes was standing behind them, throwing pink confetti. He was wearing a white and pink clown outfit and holding a large, pink umbrella. He swept into an elegant bow.
"Greetings, Shiro Fujimoto. I am Sergent Mephisto Pheles and you will be serving under me in the battle tomorrow," said Mephisto.
"There has to be some kind of mistake. I'm not a soldier-type exorcist," Shiro said.
"Perhaps you ended up here because of a bachelor party or maybe a late night at a strip club," said Mephisto amusedly.
"I wish," Shiro muttered.
Mephisto laughed genially. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Shiro Fujimoto," the gray haired man replied.
"Where are you from, Fujimoto?" asked Mephisto.
"Japan," Shiro said uncertainly. Mephisto was now leading them through a training camp where exorcist soldiers were practicing on dummies and shooting targets.
"Really? That's interesting. I am from True Cross Academy Town, Japan," said the strangely dressed man.
"C-cool," replied Shiro.
Mephisto turned in front of a large barrack and put his white gloved hands on his hips.
"You're not taking me to get out of this place, are you?" Shiro asked.
"No, I'm not," Mephisto said. He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it slowly. "Fujimoto, you are a deserter," he said.
Shiro's eyes widened. "Wh-what?"
Mephisto nodded and grabbed Shiro's arm. The man in the clown get up tugged him inside the barrack and closed the door behind them. The barrack was dark and only lit by a few lamps hanging from the middle of the sloped ceiling. People all around were practicing with barbells and doing chin ups. The pale light cast a sickening green glow over everything.
"Battle is the great redeemer, Fujimoto. If you perform well enough tomorrow,
everyone may forget that you are a deserter," Mephisto said.
At the very back of the barrack were about five or six rough looking people practicing with weapons.
"J-Squad, this is Fujimoto. Fujimoto is a deserter and he's gonna fight with you tomorrow. Fujimoto, this is J-Squad."
One of the people was a woman with dark hair and sunken eyes. She had high cheekbones and a very hollow face. "Deserter, eh?" she asked, pounding a fist into her pale hand.
"Yes and you will get him-" Mephisto stopped after looking down at one of the beds. Barely visible under a blue blanket were a few strewn cards. Mephisto's green eyes narrowed and he snatched up the cards and put them into a neat pile on his left hand.
"J-Squad, what is my view of gambling?" he asked.
"You dislike it, sir," said a large, burly man.
"Yes I do," replied Mephisto. He held out his hand to the people.
The woman sighed and stepped forward first. She took the top card off the deck in his hand and bit a chunk out of the paper. She chewed, her hollow eyes never leaving Shiro's face. All the others took cards too and commenced to eat them as well.
"You will be combat ready by the morning, Fujimoto," said Mephisto with a smirk before walking off, twirling his pink umbrella in one hand.
