A/N: I really must stop promising "one more" and getting carried away... this was a long chapter so I decided to split it. He may not be around long here but don't you worry, readers, Fujimoto figures primarily in the next part. Just got Ponyo soundtrack in the mail and can't wait for DVD!

Hope you enjoy, and as ever I am open and eager to follow your suggestions, advice, or comments. Do you find me predictable? Plot/characterizations you like/dislike? Lines that are just utterly out of character? Help me selfishly improve, and of course update sooner for a willing audience :)

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7. The Lighthouse Keeper

I wonder what's inside
Fish fillet knife
Can cut
Right through my eye ...

I'm going under
You can feel them pulling me down

- - -

"I can't say the feeling is mutual," Morgan replied, taking another step back. Katashi flicked on the light switch, wearing a deranged smile which did not melt off of his face when he saw the taser Morgan was shaking at him.

"You're mad if you think you'll get away with all this," she said.

"Now now, don't take things personally," said Katashi, "this is the business world. Tell me, have you finally decided to sell your house?"

"It's either that or work here. Are you hiring?"

Katashi laughed.

"How about you tell me where you put those forged licenses, and then maybe I won't taser you 'til you pass out," snapped Morgan, unnerved.

"Oh, no need for violence on your part, I'll tell you where they are. They're in my jacket pocket."

To Morgan's surprise Katashi took off his jacket and draped it over the chair. She saw a long, serrated knife tucked into his belt.

"Help yourself."

Morgan glanced suspiciously at the jacket, then back up at Katashi, who was again poker-faced.

"Back up."

She aimed the taser at him and he shook his head.

"You wouldn't-"

He was cut off as the electrodes shot into his shirt. Katashi evidently hadn't expected Morgan to back her bluff. He shrieked and flopped to the floor.

Morgan stepped forward and lifted up the jacket in one hand, dropping the used taser. The papers were all there.

"These the licenses? Thanks."

Everything would have gone peachy had Morgan not indulged her desire to gloat. It was difficult to resist with Katashi lying so disheveled on the floor of his own office, however.

"You know I never liked you even before you tried to drown me and burned my house down," said Morgan conversationally, stepping over Katashi to get to the door. "So it's actually pretty personal now. See you in court."

"Wait," gasped Katashi. Reflexively, and foolishly, Morgan turned around. And had her feet swept out from under her.

Katashi swung around from the carpet, sending Morgan reeling, and she tripped over the chair with a crash, the jacket and licenses falling. Katashi picked up the taser from the floor.

"Stupid girl," he sneered. "Get up!"

Morgan rose unsteadily to her feet, hands defensively in the air.

"If it's not stupid human it's stupid girl. You know this is really getting old." Katashi's look silenced her complaining.

"Now, come back here," he drawled, "And if you comply perhaps I won't taser you 'til you pass out."

"Yeah right, that old thing's got one good shot at most."

Almost immediately, Morgan found her eyes drawn to the long knife.

"Besides, I thought you said there was n-no need for violence?"

Katashi smiled another scary smile, took off his glasses. "Ah, look there."

In the window, there was a sudden light. Morgan took several steps with surprise dawning on her features. Katashi also approached the window, standing at her elbow, which he gripped casually. But Morgan wasn't paying attention.

"The light," she muttered. Through the thin rain, slanting diagonally in the wind, there was a flashing beacon.

"Yes, the lighthouse is working again," said Katashi, "But it won't make any difference without witnesses."

"Why did you torch it?"

"Now Morgan, don't be so naïve," said Katashi, loose grip tightening when she tried to shake him off. "It's the villagers' fault Monsanto lost a whole oil tanker," his frown turned into a sardonic smirk, "They were the ones who protested and turned off the lighthouse!"

Morgan rounded on Katashi, found herself with very little room to maneuver between him and the window, and his hand attached to her elbow.

"Get lost you filthy liar-"

"Am I?"

She brought up her other hand, fully intending to break Katashi's nose, but he caught her by the wrist and twisted. Morgan winced, face pressed into the cold glass.

"Now, now, stop squirming or I'll break your arm."

Morgan stopped moving though she let out a few choice words.

"That's better. Now walk with me,"

Katashi made quick work of directing Morgan into the conference room next door.

"Stay there-" he waved his knife to emphasize his point, after seating Morgan in a chair. She examined the wooden table, which was carved with strange, circumscribed spirals. That was the noise she had heard in the hallway, she realized as her eyes followed the design with strange fascination. It looked familiar – she recalled glimpsing a similar image in Hana's book.

Hana. The lighthouse. Fujimoto had once, long ago, been a lighthouse keeper. Could he have reached the lighthouse? Morgan's heart sank. If he was at the lighthouse then all hope of reinforcements was off for some time. The only fast path from the lighthouse to Monsanto lay through the bamboo forests, and Fujimoto would naturally prefer to take a sea route.

"You look distressed," Katashi observed, and abruptly Morgan was jerked back to her situation as he tightened the curtain cord he had wound to secure his captive writer to the armrests and legs of the chair. Morgan felt the bloodflow in her forearms and ankles constrict.

"Do you know, Morgan, how long it took me to persuade Monsanto to open up business here?"

He didn't pause for a reply.

"I had to work at headquarters in St. Louis – that's the middle of nowhere in America, the most agrarian and uncivilized place I'd ever been! Full of stupid westerners. But I convinced them," he chuckled, "Yes, I convinced them to open up here… here, where I can participate in whale hunts, and expand along the shoreline."

Morgan regained her voice and, realizing her desperate situation, her attitude also.

"Are you going to monologue? Because I'd rather you taser me unconscious than listen-"

"And then," Katashi interrupted, unfazed, "who obstructs my expansion but another irritating westerner? I tried to warn you, I tried to help you, but you wouldn't listen. So I tried to scare you off," he shrugged, "and that didn't work either. But don't worry, I have realized what I need to do. You see, I found the most fascinating creature lurking in our drainage pipes after that little tanker incident. A very hungry creature, you know."

Morgan flinched hard when Katashi took out the long knife and brought it to her cheek. Eyes closed, she felt the cool steel, heard a soft chuckle in the vicinity of her ear, and felt a faint tug on her hair.

"Huh?"

She opened her eyes. Katashi had sliced off a section of her hair, just below the ear.

"Yes, this is even better. Usually this is a fish-gutting knife, but I suppose it'll cut bait, too," he muttered under his nose.

Katashi took a lighter from his pocket and singed Morgan's hair, before placing it carefully inside the circle on the table.

"How about evening it up for your ritual?" Morgan mocked.

Katashi's eyebrows rose at the suggestion, and he ran the knife entirely too near her face for comfort, chopping the other side shorter. As he leaned near to see what he was doing, Morgan landed a good amount of spit across his face. It was, in retrospect, not a smart thing to do. Katashi drew the knife back quickly and it bit into her cheek.

"And now if you'll excuse me, I've got a government delegation to meet, Morgan. Tonight has been a pleasure." He wiped off his glasses with a vindicated expression. "You wouldn't recognize it, of course, but that circle and tuft of hair is enough to summon my pet here."

He seemed to enjoy the dread dawning on Morgan's features as he carefully wound up the wires of the electrodes of the taser before attempting to give the writer a second dose. Nothing happened, naturally, because the gas cartridge failed, and Morgan laughed humorlessly.

This turned out to be another mistake. With a chill glare Katashi slammed the handle of the useless stun gun into the side of Morgan's head. This time, everything went black.

Katashi left the conference room door open, put his hand in his pocket and swept down the hallway, whistling. The writer's head drooped down, chin upon her chest, hair uneven and falling over a red-streaked face.

- - -

The first thing she was aware of was an awful stench. Sickly sweet rot, dusty, filthy and coating the back of her throat, her very lungs with residue. She coughed, choking, and stiffened painfully when a long hand wrapped across her mouth, the other resting with strange familiarity upon her shoulder. Something was slimy and stung her cheek. Her arms and legs were tightly bound, her head hurt, everything was blurring at the edges and someone was not letting her cough that disgusting scent from her lungs. Morgan lurched into a fit of miserable shaking, feeling absolutely wretched. The hand twitched in surprise beneath her tears and jerked away.

"Who's there?" Morgan sniffed, and immediately broke into coughing.

"Shhhhh!" said the person behind her, fiddling with the curtain cord. In moments her left arm was free, and a mane of ginger hair fell over her shoulder as Fujimoto leaned down to untie the other arm. Morgan inhaled deeply; fresh, invigorating and salty, the mass of hair tickled her face. There was a bamboo leaf in there, too.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, please don't move," Morgan breathed.

"What?"

"I said your nose is poking my collarbone," Morgan croaked out. Next second she could feel her feet again as the cord fell to the floor. "Never liked tassels…"

Fujimoto leaned up again, frowning, considering his hand which was dark with congealed blood, and then Morgan who didn't look much better.

"You're bleeding."

"Don't sound so horrified. It's a scratch."

"Yes, but human blood-"

"Is in your veins right now, Fujimoto. I don't think you need to worry about your magic."

He looked apologetic, for the first time, and hesitantly helped Morgan to her feet.

"I had to wait for him to leave before-"

"You mean you were standing there watching me get my hair cut?"

"I had to make sure," his gaze landed on the table.

"Of what? What is it?"

"That he's summoned something. It's just as I feared."

Morgan brought a hand to her head. "Please," she said slowly, "can you stop confusing me for just this once? I have a hell of a headache right now. That smell isn't helping."

"We've got to get out of here, Morgan."

He tugged on Morgan's arm, which elicited a wince, but Morgan resisted stubbornly.

"Explain," she demanded.

Fujimoto sighed impatiently.

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