Call of Darkness


XXVII: Fire Darts

"I'm sorry, but..." I raised my hand in the meeting a few days later. "What are you intending by giving me this contract, O'Brien-san?"

Austin-san frowned. "As it says, the Arcadia Movement and all its allies in the form of the various Movements across the globe, are deemed by the US Army as a loosely connected small militia with weapons of heavy capability. No matter in which country, for its central headquarters to be based in Japan essentially means that Article Nine is being defied. There are also many concerns raised that... that this much power is held in the hands of a minor."

"I do not control the Arcadia Movement," I answered.

"But you are the invested head, and so you hold the Movement, and you retain the right to mobilise it into a military party," Austin-san explained. "And as a social organisation, the Arcadia Movement has not participated in any tournament, nor have you fielded any promising Duelists in the past year's tournaments, or even since the Stygian Dirge. The lack of activity is... worrying."

"I... I didn't know," I shook my head. "How did Setsu-chan ever do it, running the Arcadia Movement? I've been working so hard trying to keep on top of the usual work, I haven't had the time to look through our options..."

"Participation in tournaments is a must to maintain the public eye, Seika-ojou," Nakamura-san mumbled. "I will assist in any way necessary, you only need ask."

"That's not the main issue," Austin-san shook his head. "My son had a broken arm from what should be a random visit. Doesn't that prove that there is an inherent danger to placing a building of Psychic Duelists in the middle of Neo Domino's high-top shopping district? Previously, Shimotsuki Setsuka had managed to hold down any danger to the absolute minimum, and so any disagreements to that quarter could be deflected. But, there are twenty-five dead right now. Even for civilian casualties, that's pretty high."

"Of course, it's not enough for the anti-Psychics to get noisy, Shimotsuki Setsuka already managed to crush their power pretty thoroughly worldwide, but the moderates are taking notice," Baa-chan added, frowning. "We cannot sign the Movement to any military, and neither can we accept this labelling that would restrict our actions and cause others to suspect us."

"We've received an invitation to the Duel Royal Tournament," Nii-chan butted in.

"Duel Royal?" Austin-san and I reacted predictably.

"I... I..." I stuttered.

"The upcoming tournament that would take place on Duelist Kingdom?" Austin-san blinked. "Well, West Academia is also sending their students..."

"Our members are far-reaching enough and controlled enough to participate as professional Duelists," Baa-chan answered. "Doubtless, there will be many members who would participate independently, but the Movement has always allowed its Duelists free reign to Duel as they like. The fact that we face danger is by no fault of ours."

"True..." Austin-san acknowledged.

"If needed, we will field some Duelists to participate," I offered. "But not now, and not ever, will the Movement become a military arm."

"I see," Austin-san looked troubled. "But-"

"Please," I shook my head. "Nakamura-san, please."

"O'Brien-san, this way," Nakamura-san nodded as the soldier was shown out.

"What do you think, Ryuusei, Seika?" Baa-chan frowned.

"The Duel Royal..." I frowned at the invitation. "Is this the tournament that Setsu-chan was referring to?"

"Maybe," Nii-chan answered. "I might have been retired, but I can participate for the Arcadia Movement."

"We should give a strong showing," Baa-chan nodded. "That way, not only do we show a competitive spirit, we increase our profile worldwide."

"Agreed," I murmured, staring at the invitation. "Then, the motion and applications for sponsorship of participation to the Duel Royal is passed."

I ran into Ryuusuke when the meeting has ended.

"Ryuusuke-san?"

"Oh, Kannazuki-san," Ryuusuke stared at Nii-chan and quickly averted his eyes. "Erm... actually, I would like to talk to you about something. In private."

"I know when I'm not wanted," Nii-chan nodded. "Seika?"

"Don't worry, Ryuusuke-san," I told Ryuusuke. "Nii-chan can be trusted."

"It's not about that, Kannazuki-san," Ryuusuke continued to stare uneasily at Ryuusei. "It's just..."

"It's just that the spirit blood coursing through your veins is calling to Summer," Nii-chan nodded. "And right now you're wondering if there's some psychic power that is affecting you. Am I right? You're very readable... I'm sorry?"

"I- I'm Ryuusuke Diamondblade, please, don't worry about it," Ryuusuke replied. "Well... I think Fudo-san is a very nice person. And that... I just don't know why..."

"You are a child born between worlds." Ryuusei answered. "One day, you shall have to choose. Whether to follow your mother, and become one of the immortal monsters of the summer's night. Or to die human, as your father did. But until then, you are under the rule of Summer. And therefore, under my rule."

"I'm... I'm not," Ryuusuke swallowed.

"Really?" Nii-chan smiled warmly and Ryuusuke blushed as he looked away.

"I told... I told that witch that," Ryuusuke insisted. "I'm my own self. I am not under anyone's rule."

"Really?" Nii-chan asked. "If, just maybe, I were to give a command, will you be able to resist it?"

"...no," Ryuusuke looked away.

"Marguerite hates people like you," Nii-chan whispered. "Learn some discretion. If you continue saying no without thinking, you may just die."

"Why?" Ryuusuke whispered. "Why do these Duel Spirits continue to torture us? What did we ever do to them?"

Nii-chan's eyes glowed blue-green, warm and comforting but also happy. Too happy. "I suppose... the closest that they can see humans as is as a pet, or an exotic animal. To be trapped in a cage of choosing. To be tortured and injured to entertain them. Because it's fun. They need no other reason for it. In that respect, they are no different from humans."

"That's... that's true." Ryuusuke frowned, looking at Nii-chan. "Very pessimistic, but true."

"The human admires the bear for strength, and the tiger for its fierce hunting. The cheetah for its speed, and the bird for its wings." Nii-chan murmured. "Now imagine that you want these things, but you can never have them. And yet, the one thing you have power over, the one that you can crush at whim, they have a choice to all these, and they are not taking it. They remain conflicted. Ignorant, stubborn, foolish."

"So..." Ryuusuke swallowed, stepping back.

Those blue-green eyes glared, before they faded to blue once more, and Nii-chan stumbled slightly. "For now, you do not choose. You do not commit. You do not make anything of yourself. And that is why spirits like Marguerite hates you, hates me, hates us humans. Because you can still choose, and they no longer can."

"They hate you?" Ryuusuke asked.

"Yes." Nii-chan nodded solemnly. "That is why Shimotsuki hates me, that is why she amassed her forces even though we would both die. Because she has chosen, and I have not, and the two of us are bounded by fate. I have not chosen to be King of Summer, though I have taken the mantle. Until that time, until I choose, I will not act like the King of Summer, the selfish lord that rules over the land of dreams. That, I can promise you."


"The things I do for love." the comment was delivered in a sarcastic manner, but Youkai gave me a glare for good measure anyway.

"Come on, you can't tell me that you've never done 'meet the family' until now."

"Your cousin tried to kill me," I counted off. "Your other cousin is my lawyer. Your oldest cousin I once saw in drag. Your grandfather took one look at me, and called me interesting. And on the only other date I've technically been to once, the girl's parents nearly landed me with a betrothal. There's a good reason I keep my will handy for these, Youkai."

"We need a situation, without people dying or presenting a danger. We might as well come here." Youkai scowled, his grip around my waist tightening as we rolled up the driveway of the ancestral Misawa home.

"It's like pulling teeth out," I answered. "Through your nose."

The Misawa house was... highly traditional, I'd give that. Stone lanterns, large gardens, wooden constructs, the whole nine yards. You could actually hear a water fountain and the sound of bamboo clicking. I've only seen it twice, when coming and leaving only once, and I can only stare in wonder at it.

A breeze casually blew as I beheld it, Carpe Jugulum pathetically small and too bright next to the sombre atmosphere of the house. Two guards stood by the large front entrance.

"Nowaki-sama," they bowed to us.

Youkai's face was appropriately solemn, as befitting the last party of anyone's life: the funeral.

The interior had not changed at all. We took off our shoes, following the black-clad usher lead through wood-panelled hallways, in a labyrinthe maze of paper screens and panelled walls, delicate wall ornaments and calligraphy scrolls, almost right out of a fairy tale... a fairy tale of darkness and silence that echoed of nothingness. Youkai walked through the halls with his footing soft and with the easy familiarity of nostalgia; this stifling puppet theatre was the place where the four Misawa cousins had grown up.

We got to the main hall, signed the guest book, and Youkai was immediately pulled into a triple-bodied hug.

Tsugare-san wore black and white, which threw a discordant image of a bride dressing up in the oxymoron of a situation. His amethyst hair was bunched up, which again threw a very odd scenario until I realised that Tsugare was pretty enough to pull it off anyway.

Hibiki Akio was the only one who could match Tsugare's height of one-eight-o, seemingly a shade taller than most of his cousins. His build was fairly muscular, enough to make him still look somewhat intimidating and feared despite that his body shape followed the slight side that all of the Misawa seemed to have. His skin tone was an olive tone, which matched his almond-shaped facial structure. Akio's hair was cut in a mullet, dyed navy blue with black streaks falling a little past his shoulders. Amber eyes gleamed brighter than polished copper, and for this occasion he wore a black suit that made his hair stand out even more.

The second oldest of the four, Misawa Ryokai was around my own height, with cropped black hair, black highlights, long bangs swept to the right side of his face, which also covers his right eye. Again with the slim build though Ryokai was built stockier than any of his cousins, his eyes gleamed golden amber at me. For this occasion, his wardrobe consisted of a traditional black kimono and a black choker with an amber stone pendant hanging from the centre.

"Ryo-nii, Akio-nii, Tsu-nii," Youkai greeted each of them. "I brought Chase along."

Imagine standing in the midst of eagles, who were pecking away at some other poor piece of meat. Suddenly they abandoned it to stare at you with distinctly predatory eyes of amber. That's the closest I could describe them.

"Hi," I lamely replied in the face of their stares.

"We've met," Ryokai stiffly answered. I knew the feeling; I wouldn't know how to answer my former prospective murder victim either. All water under the bridge after two years of chasing monsters, but otherwise awkward.

"Can we redo that?" I said. "Hi, I'm Chase Princeton, your cousin's boyfriend for the past five years. We've only met today in a personal capacity. What's your name?"

Ryokai stared at me, before nodding. "Misawa Ryokai. Nice to meet you too."

"What did you do?" Tsugare hissed to him as Akio did a face-palm.

"Hibiki-san, we both know each other, can we drop it?" I scowled.

"Well, I know better than to expect more civility from you at this time," Akio replied, motioning to the hall. "This isn't business, after all."

Across the hall, where Akio's hand swung out as he motioned, was that photograph. Misawa Idaten had really fit the place; a traditional man to the last. Wrinkles lined his otherwise strong face into an aged mask, and even though the photograph was done in black monochrome his eyes seemed to glitter. I knew, having met the man before, that they glittered amber rather than Youkai's crimson. He was also mostly bald in the photograph, yet that did not stop the intense aura pouring off his picture, a shade of the powerful man who ruled Neo Domino's anti-social organisations before.

Ryokai, our host, led us to a waiting table where its sole occupant rose in greeting. Koichi-san was in the most smart-casual set he could find, and he looked obviously lost in the midst of the hall of formally dressed men and women and solemn faces set with amber and grey eyes that were the most common of the Misawa.

"Chase!" He greeted with enthusiasm much like how a drowning man would probably greet the Old Reliable. "How are you? Caused any burning buildings lately?"

"It was only once!" I squawked.

"I saw the news. Don't lie."

"Burning buildings?" Akio sniffed. "That's nothing compared to the legal wrangling he put me through to see if Kannazuki Seika's appointment was legal. It was, by the way."

"I know. As you take a perverse delight in reminding me about it regularly." I glared at him.

A reminder that Seika was stuck with a pain and responsibility she never signed up for was very... very mood-killing. I mean, barely two years and she already had one of the highest fatality rates of the Arcadia Movement's history, barring Divine's kidnapping and murder streak. How much more horror and pain and death could a mind like Seika's take?

"I know that there was a large disturbance two weeks ago," Koichi nodded. "What happened?"

"A slap-down between Ryuusei and Shimotsuki," I sourly answered. "And did you know that Shimotsuki has a cousin, who's currently alive?"

"Orion Hunter?" Koichi crossed his arms. "I never really met him personally, although I heard... about eleven years ago he left the Movement. Some say that he challenged Setsuka and lost, and that's why he left, since his pride would not allow him to remain."

"Well..." Youkai shifted.

I told Koichi almost everything, about Orion's contract with Exodia, about Shimotsuki disembowelling him, and about the Duel Assassin.

"Vergil Valentine is a very powerful Duel Assassin," Koichi nodded. "I know his signature is a deck that uses only traps, and nothing else. Against an Exodia deck like what you told me about Orion... it's possible that Setsuka did it to protect him, although... well, two years ago I would have said that this plan was very roundabout, but I agree with you. She's up to something, but what, we don't quite know. And even if we did..." he shrugged.

I understood. Shimotsuki was like some damned huge glacier. There was no way to stop it even if you knew where it was headed.

"Usually, I'd ask my contacts in London, but I've been in Neo Domino mostly with Tsugare," Koichi shifted awkwardly, where Tsugare was currently deep in conversation with some long-forgotten aunt twice removed or something. "Don't you have your own contacts?"

I winced, and Rei's form appeared, perching on my shoulder.

I agree, Rei nodded. That the Winter Queen is, as you put it, up to something. I can only suppose that this action is one that would counter one of two things, or perhaps both.

It would take another Shimotsuki Setsuka to fully uncover the plots, so I nodded.

The first, and simplest, is that she is countering a movement made by the Summer Court, Rei explained. The Duel Assassin was an employee of Marguerite, and doubtlessly holding favours from her. It would not be remiss for the Winter Queen in ensuring that the hound of Exodia lives.

"What's the second?" I asked, perfectly aware that Koichi-san could hear Rei's explanation.

The second, and more likely possibility, would be that she is countering a threat both Courts face, Rei continued. That could very well be the reason for the Summer King's appearance here. In short, two bitter enemies uniting against one...

There is quite some truth to the phrase 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Look at World War Two. Now imagine the not-inconsiderable power of my friend, Fudo Ryuusei, plus the ruthlessness and smarts of Shimotsuki Setsuka, and you got the unstoppable and the immovable united against one common enemy. There were pairings that had pulled off less likely victories.

"If we go by that Vergil Valentine was employed to get rid of Orion Hunter, then we can hold Marguerite accountable," Koichi-san reasoned aloud. "So we can supposed that Setsuka is aiming to protect Orion. By landing him in a public hospital, instead of the Arcadia Movement infirmary, with that kind if debilitating injury, she ensures that there are public eyes on Orion, and therefore protects Orion from both herself and others. If she wanted to drive Orion off, that kind of debilitating injury delivers a trauma on its own that would cripple Orion already-"

"What are you talking about?" Tsugare-san sauntered over, leaning to peck Koichi-san on the cheek. Koichi-san flushed, the same stupefied look on his face.

"About Boss," Youkai answered.

Tsugare-san frowned, and his body seemed to shrink in on himself. Looking at Tsugare-san smiling, I wouldn't have known that he was not just a member of the Arcadia Movement, but also one of those who had opted to become a pawn of the Movement. He had braved through the worst of Shimotsuki's jobs and come out all the worst for it until his cousin had run away and entered the Movement.

Now, Tsugare-san was afraid. Afraid of even talking about her, for there are some devils who actually appear when you talk about them.

It was a common reaction, from those who not only had the most traumatic memories, but also the ones who had been suicidal once. The Movement had a very funny treatment for suicidal cases; they put them on the most dangerous work, some or not all involving homicidal Duel Spirits who would be keen to give them death of any sort. Either you found your will to live, or you lived to take your life back from the Arcadia Movement.

"W- What about her?" he asked.

"She has a cousin," Koichi-san informed him.

"Orion? He returned?" Tsugare looked surprised. "Huh, about time. Maybe Kannazuki-san can step down now."

"I don't think so," Youkai shook his head. "For one thing, disturbing rumours had passed about the Arcadia Movement. Just a few weeks ago we got a visit from the US Army in the form of the O'Brien family."

"O'Brien... Austin O'Brien is friends with Yuuki Judai, and given the rumours about the Pacific Duel Academia he would've seen his fair share," Koichi nodded. "If they're sending him to open negotiations first, it's likely that they would try to absorb the Arcadia Movement."

The service began, incense permeating the air as I stood and watched the priest perform last rites. When we moved to the Rex Goodwin Cemetery, where the grave already stood open, well, there's food for thought.

It's a sobering sort of place to visit.

I mean, we're all going to die. We know that on an intellectual level. We figure it out sometime when we're still fairly young, and it scares us so badly that we convince ourselves we're immortal for more than a decade afterwards.

Death isn't something anyone likes to think about, but the fact is that you can't get out of it. No matter what you do, how much you exercise, how religiously you diet, or meditate, or pray, or donate to your religious place of worship (insert your choice here), there is a single hard, cold fact that faces everyone on earth: One day, it's going to be over. One day, the sun will rise, the world will turn, people will go about their daily routines – only you won't be in it. You'll be still. And cold.

And, despite every religious faith, the testimony of near-death eyewitnesses, and the imaginations of storytellers throughout history, death remains the ultimate mystery. No one truly, definitively knows what happens after. And that's assuming there is an after. We all go there, blind to whatever is out there in the darkness beyond.

Death.

You can't escape it.

You.

Will.

Die.

That's a bitter, hideously concrete fact to endure – but believe me, you get it in a whole new range of colour and texture when you face it standing over an open grave, into a yawning chasm of earth and watching the gravediggers inhume the corpse.

I stood there among silent headstones and memorials both sober and outrageous, and the late May sunset shone down on me. Crickets, and the sound of traffic, sirens, car alarms, overhead jets, and distant loud music, the pulse of all cities and Neo Domino, kept me company with the funeral-visiting relatives. There was a silent, crackling tension in the air, a kind of energy that was common in summer.

Come Halloween, when the borders were at their weakest, it would become a near-maelstrom, and then shit would blow up sometime soon. But that would be Halloween.

When the gravestone was erected, I stood with the four cousins, Koichi-san, and stared at the ugly gravestone. Even when dead, Misawa Idaten still had character. The grave of his late wife, Misawa Benten, had been where Youkai and I met for the first time. He had been losing control of his powers, and the first time in DA Kings that Ryuusei had been called out to stop him was when there was a danger of a hurricane about to begin in Neo Domino.

"My parents died when I was young," Youkai confessed. "From the beginning... I was chosen as the next head, and Jii-sama raised me. But... I didn't want it. Ryo-nii... do you regret it? Your choice?"

"Someone has to hold down the fort," Ryokai wistfully stared at the grave. "And you're not cut out for the kind of bloodshed this dark world brings to us. People like Shimotsuki Setsuka are some of the darkest you would ever know, and you're right. You've seen darkness, darkness in the form of the queen of monsters that used to reign there, and you know what is needed."

He considered the grave again. "But, Nowaki, you have no need to be that monster. That responsibility has already been taken, by someone who chose to take it."

"Choice... I don't need to know about what we do to see that one day, the Arcadia Movement and our family will clash," Youkai hissed. "Will you... break it down? Will you break it?"

"It's already starting," Akio leaned forward, his hands and Ryokai's curled around each other's. "It will be a long, and probably dangerous process... but we will do it."

"You'd really do that... of course you would," Tsugare-san muttered. "You always had a strength I never had."

"It's not hard, seeing you're about as useful as a honey-trap only."

Tsugare-san kicked him. "What about it? This honey-trap taught you how to Duel! Do you need a beating?"

"N- No, Nii-san..."

"It's still the oldest Misawa who's the scariest," Youkai commented, but he was smiling slightly.

I looked around, and found myself lost in a maze of memories, a cloud of names that no one living could attach to a face anymore. I wondered, passing some of the older monuments, whether anyone ever visited them now. In those creepy cemeteries they show in movies, the graves were always left untended. Did people visit some of these graves at all?

No. Probably not for any personal reason.

That was all right. Graves aren't for the dead. They're for the loved ones the dead leave behind them. Once those loved ones have gone, once all the lives that have touched the occupant of any given grave had ended, then the grave's purpose was fulfilled and ended.

I walked by one, and almost froze.

"Youkai."

"What's wrong?" Youkai appeared by my side, still trying to see Tsugare-san flay Ryokai alive.

"This grave."

"This grave...?" Youkai glanced at the worn name, which still glinted gold:

Here lies:
Rafael Knighton, or Rafael Shimotsuki, 19XX- 15
th October, 20XX
and
Diana Hunter, or Seiran Shimotsuki, 19XX- 15
th October, 20XX

The Guardian and the Witch Hunter. Loving parents, man and woman, who served millions across the globe, to meet with a tragic end.

Survived by:
Daughters

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? We do.
Let the Storm come. Our will shall shine when the Storm has died.

"It's... clean," I hissed. "This grave is clean."

"Someone's probably been cleaning it," Youkai doubtfully muttered. "Maybe Nakamura-san?"

"Right..." I still felt doubtful as I left.

As I left the Rex Goodwin Cemetery, I realised something. It had hardly been like pulling teeth out at all.


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