This chapter is dedicated to cartooncraze357 for being my 100th reviewers for UPDF:throws confetti : Cheers to you!
Disclaimer: I own this story, its plot, Yamashiro Kakinouchi, Aka-Nami, the 'movie' "Keeper of Souls", and other stuff in which I shall take claim over as they appear in certain chapters. I do not own Danny Phantom or other stuff that belongs to Butch Hartman, Nickelodeon, and other respective owners.
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Aka-Nami
CHAPTER NINE: KYUU
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Tucker spun his chair around to face the source of laughter. A few feet away from him was an Asian man in his mid-twenties, adorned in red, white, and black feudal Japan attire. But the most interesting fact was that this person was transparent and floating a good six inches off the ground, a dark glow encasing him.
Sam's description of Yamashiro sprang to mind.
"The stories they create are quite amusing, but so far from the truth." Yamashiro took a step closer to Tucker, allowing the teen to snap out of his shock. Tucker made a mad dash for the Fenton Ghost Gloves by the window closest to him. Just as his fingertips brushed the metal, something thin and cold rested on the sensitive skin of Tucker's neck.
"Do not be alarmed. I did not come here to kill you." The blade nipped African-American's skin and stained the steel with a small amount of garnet liquid. "Only to make myself known"
Tucker winced at the sharp pain but remained motionless, silently cursing himself for leaving the Fenton Ghost Gloves so far away from his reach. "Proving that you're still in town can't be the only reason you're here." The blade withdrew from Tucker's flesh wound and for the first time, he was able to examine the weapon, even if it was only for a second. It was a long nihonto of about three or four feet, the Japanese steel sharpened and gleaming in the moonlight. This was definitely not the rusted old dagger that had inflicted injury upon Sam.
"You are more perceptive than they say." Yamashiro glided across the carpeted floor and wiped Tucker's blood on his red sleeve, allowing Tucker to stand straight and face him.
Wiping his blood off with his own sleeve, Tucker became sickened with the prospect that the red coating the samurai's clothes was really the bloodstains of his victims. "Well, you're just as sick at they say."
A secretive smile spread across Yamashiro's face. "They still fail to decipher why I am 'sick'."
"Of course they haven't! You've burned all the evidence and killed all the witnesses, even the little kids. All of them sliced-n-diced ... You didn't leave anything. Think of how their families felt when they found out what happened to them! How would you feel if everything you knew was destroyed? If your loved ones and everyone in their town was cut into mincemeat? That's just plain sick and wrong! Just killing all those people in cold blood ..." For an instant he had forgotten whom he was speaking with, letting the topic of senseless killing overcome him and his mouth. The moment his mouth stopped to function, Tucker came to stand still in the short silence that followed.
The young techie thought of the possibilities of his fate. He expected Yamashiro to come at him with his recently cleaned sword, and slicing him into nice little bite-sized pieces. There was also the possibility of Yamashiro unsheathing the second sword at his side and chopping off Tucker's head in a scissor-like motion. Or perhaps the samurai would just wound him as badly as Sam, if not slightly worse. But never would Tucker have guessed that the samurai would emit empty laughter and a hallow smile with lingering traces of sadness.
"Indeed and all for the purpose of keeping them silent." The laughter died but the haunting smile remained, making Tucker shudder.
Trying to gather his bearings (and failing more than he would like to admit), Tucker shifted his weight to his left foot and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what do you want?"
"I have taken noticed that the young ghost hunter has been keeping a close vigil of the injured girl, correct?" A wistful expression traced with his seemingly common sadness graced his features.
"What's it to you?" Tucker wondered why Yamashiro would seem so nostalgic while mentioning Danny and Sam. However, the thought was quickly dismissed as the once respected warrior spoke again.
"I wish for you to tell him that he has no need to keep her under heavy guard." He spoke firmly with an undertone of something else that Tucker couldn't place.
"Why's that?" Tucker didn't like the elusiveness reflected in Yamashiro's burning crimson eyes.
"I only intend to finish my business when she is recovered." The melancholy expression became more apparent as he paused. "I want her to be able to run if the option is left open."
"Why?" Tucker narrowed his eyes at the deceased samurai, seriously disliking how the man was talking.
"Why not?" The reply came nonchalantly, as if the explanation was as clear as day, which it was not. And that only helped to grate on Tucker's nerves.
"Desiree said that you haven't killed a human ever since you died."
Yamashiro offered Tucker a ghost of a smile laced with actual amusement, even if by a fraction. "She has very reliable sources. What she has told you is true; I have not harmed nor killed a living human being since my death."
"So why now? Why Sam?" Tucker watched as Yamashiro sheathed his sword, meeting Tucker's gaze.
"Do I need a reason?" Yamashiro offered a stoic look, completely lacking in emotion. Still, an air of depression lingered around the dark aura surrounding the apparition.
"Of course you need a reason! You can't decide to kill somebody just because you were in the mood! THAT'S JUST WRONG!" Tucker took a deep breath while glaring at Yamashiro.
The samurai maintained his poker face. "I never said that I attacked the girl because I 'was in the mood.'"
For a good minute or so, Tucker's mouth was ajar, gaping at the deceased man. "Then ... why?"
"I have my reasons." Something akin to determination flashed in the glowing red eyes.
Readjusting his glasses, Tucker raised a brow. "And what, pray tell, would those be?"
The saddened smile reappeared upon Yamashiro's face as his being started to fade into the shadows of the room.
Tucker stepped a few feet closer to the specter. "Hey!"
"Make sure you tell him of what have I said." With that, Yamashiro vanished from Tucker's view, but not without giving the teen a sincere look of reassurance.
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The door clicked open and the lights flickered on. A bald middle-aged African-American man in a black suit stood in the doorway, a bushy eyebrow quirked upwards. He took a quick glance around the room before his eyes settled on the person stationed on the sole bed.
"Miss Manson, I heard voices coming from your room." His deep and accented voice (obviously acquired from the Bronx) was monotone and serious to a fault.
Sam shook her head, veiling her eyes with indifference. "I was just talking to the air; trying to entertain my restless, lonely self. Nothing out of the ordinary."
The man nodded curtly and turned the lights back off. "Very well. I advise that you sleep soon, though." With that, he closed the door behind him, his footfalls echoing in the hall as he walked away.
"Man. That was close." Danny reappeared in the chair to Sam's left, a look of relief on his face.
"See? This is why you don't need to come here every night. I have plenty of bodyguards; I don't need another one." Sam leaned back into her angled mattress and watched as Danny crossed his arms over his chest.
"Can any of your bodyguards grab a ghost with his bare hands and send them straight into the Ghost Zone?"
"No, but none of them brag about their skills, either." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on, Danny. This is the third time that someone has almost caught you in here."
Danny sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, making sure that he wasn't expelling too much air to freeze. "I know that, but I can't leave you here by yourself with Kakinouchi still out there."
"I'm not completely defenseless. You, of all people, should know that." Sam gave Danny a stern look, accusing him of calling her weak.
He raised both hands up defensively. "Of course I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but you can't blame a guy for worrying about his best friend."
Her gaze wavered after a moment longer, her expression softening. "It's not like you'll be abandoning me."
"We can't risk it, especially since Desiree said--"
"That I'm the first human to be attacked by Yamashiro." She sighed. "I know that you're worried and I appreciate your concern, but I don't need to be protected like some porcelain doll."
"Sam, I know that you hate it, but it's for your own safety." He stopped and lowered his eyes, letting out a ragged breath, completely forgetting about his ghost sense. "I don't wanna see you like that." His eyes glazed over at the thought, memories of what took place a week ago running through his mind. "I won't let him hurt you. Not again."
"Danny ..." Sam noticed that he would brood over the fact that he had left her alone that night, putting the blame on himself. He did this every now and then when he visited her. An air of rage would surround him, his hatred directed at himself and Yamashiro, her attacker.
I'll make him pay ...
At first, she dismissed the whisper as just that, a whisper. She heard him mutter about such things, but paid them no real attention.
I'll make him pay for hurting her ...
He wasn't talking to her. His voice was louder and it echoed around her. Her eyes widened with the revelation of telepathy between the two of them.
She was hearing his thoughts.
"Danny ..." He wasn't responding to her and that scared Sam. If he was so angry as to project his thoughts, then she was afraid he would end up doing something stupid. Without hesitating, Sam reached out and took Danny's hand in her own. "I know you'll make him pay, but don't loose control of your anger."
Danny gapped in confusion, but shut his mouth again when he realized what must have happened. He shook his head and as he cleared his thoughts, so did some of the tension in the room. "Sorry." The fifteen-year-old lowered his head again, this time in shame.
"It's all right. Just don't let it go too far, you might regret it." Sam silently squeezed Danny's hand, rewarded with the closing of sleep deprived eyes. Danny took in a shaky breath and released it just as unsteadily, too tired to neither smooth out the gesture nor hide the blue vapor.
"I know." He looked up at Sam once more, but found that she had her gaze focused on the face clock on her right.
2:00 am
"I found you around this time ..."
Sam nodded. "Exactly a week ago ..."
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NEXT CHAPTER: Let's break away from the ambiguity of Yamashiro for at least one chapter ... If I can ...
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