Chapter Fifty-Three: Space Truck
The sweltering heat of summer baked downtown Tokyo. Skyscrapers, monuments of glass and concrete, reflected gold under the intense sunlight, and at their foundations, the air rippled like a mirage over scorching asphalt. In Marunouchi, the bustling parkways were eerily still, stripped of the lively fervor generated by weekday stock trading and corporate business. Instead, the city was quiet, battened down in the lull of a firestorm.
At a nearby intersection, a police sergeant stood at the ready, perspiration beading her forehead. Ahead of her, a line of police cruisers spanned both sides of the street, their doors flared open, creating a barricade of reinforced steel. Inside them, police officers perched at the edges of their seats, the hot afternoon an afterthought as they stared unblinkingly at the warzone halfway down the block.
They watched the armored trucks and sedans cluttering the parkway, still idling where they had been abandoned. Disturbing lumps in tailored suits lay strewn on the ground around the vehicles, the bodies of men riddled with bullets by brothers with whom they had shared saké and traded jokes. Men they had trusted. Overnight, their family fractured, and now a civil war shook the black tower they had once called home.
In the distance, gunfire popped, echoing through the city's canyons.
The sergeant wiped at the dripping perspiration stinging her eyes before spying back over her shoulder at an officer leaning close to a radio. "They're still shooting," she remarked. "What's the ETA on an assist from the Special Assault Team?"
The officer shook his head. "All teams are dealing with pockets of fighting elsewhere in the city. Places where the public are at risk. They're not killing anyone but each other here."
"Excuses," she scoffed, then returned her attention to the wrecked stretch of parkway at the foot of the massive tower. "They're just afraid of the shitstorm that's already hit, beginning with how this yakuza clan got so much firepower despite our strict gun control efforts. A few handguns here and there, fine. But they have assault rifles. We can't even think about approaching. Right now, the best we can hope for is to contain them."
"With what?" the officer asked, gesturing to the surrounding cruisers. "Most of us don't even have sidearms. Crowd control gear at best. If the violence spills out this way, what are we going to do?"
"Hold the line."
"How? With our bodies?"
The sergeant turned towards him. "We can't let any innocent people die. Even if it means sacrificing our own lives." She tapped her badge. "That's what it means to serve. To be the hero."
"Even in the face of impossible odds?"
"Especially then," a man replied.
Both officers spun around, searching for him, his baritone voice one neither recognized.
An arrow struck the ground, its bulbous tip shattering in a plume of white smoke that curled and swelled, filling the street.
The officers began to shout, huddling behind their cruiser doors. With their non-lethal weapons at the ready, their eyes searched the thick veil of smoke, spying only the silhouettes of their own as they scurried for a better position.
Slowly the veil rose, dissipating with the offshore breeze.
In the street, at the fore of the barricade, three figures appeared. A man sporting a two-toned leather jacket and a mask printed with a tiger's maw. A young woman in white with a green skirt and a bow in hand. And towering over them both, a man they'd only seen from afar or in the grainy videos that swarmed the internet. Through his snarling mask, his gold eyes, devoid of humanity, stared down at them. The Demon of Namidabashi had come.
"We will handle this," he commanded, cutting through the murmuring that rippled through the ranks. "No more innocents will die today."
"We-We don't answer to you," the officer blurted out, his stuttering undercutting his accusation. "You're a vigilante."
"I'm this city's guardian," he asserted, his tone turning dark, and his eyes blazed as he glared at the man. "All who jeopardize her people answer to me. No matter what station they serve."
He swallowed and took a step back.
"You're here to help?" the sergeant asked. "All three of you? You're going into that tower?"
"Ma'am, they're not…" the officer interrupted.
Without looking away, she held her hand up, silencing him. "And when you go, you vow that no innocent people will die?"
"You have my word," the demon assured.
She nodded, clear-eyed and strong. "Good. If that's the case, then what do you need from us? How can we support you?"
He snorted softly, surprised.
"We can't do anything from here," she added.
"Then do as you vowed and hold the line. We will clear the way and leave the wounded and toothless for you to handle. But do not let your guard down."
"Consider it done."
He nodded a bow in her direction, then turned on his heel, heading down the street towards the chaos, his companions at his side.
"Ma'am," the officer whispered.
"I know," she admitted, watching them walk away. "But we don't have much choice. It's a warzone. We don't stand a chance. But you've seen the videos like the rest of us. So, let's see what a guardian can do."
OOOOOOOOOO
With detached grace, the three strode down the parkway, keeping step with each other. The abandoned city surrounded them, open storefronts with no one in them and half-eaten breakfasts at every sidewalk café table still waiting for the check.
"Holy shit," Tora laughed, grinning beneath his mask. "Are we doing that cool thing from the movies where the good guys walk in a line down a street towards danger like complete badasses."
Sesshoumaru sighed under his breath.
"Ooh, one of us should be lighting a cigarette. Though obviously not Kagome-san."
"I must admit this is pretty badass," Kagome agreed, thrusting out her chin. "Especially when Sesshoumaru told that cop off."
"Right after you shot the gas-tipped arrow into the middle of them."
"The effort was to minimize the risk of their interference, Sesshoumaru interjected. "I intend for them to be a net that catches any cowardly escapees who emerge once we launch our offensive. We did not do that to look cool."
Kagome and Tora booed.
Sesshoumaru snorted indignantly.
"But we are relying on that detective guy to do more than that, right?" Kagome asked.
He nodded, eyeing the empty sky surrounding the massive tower. "Even with the return of my powers, sieging this fortress will be a hard-won assault. If the detective is successful, the support he'll secure might grant us an edge we'll need to succeed."
Tora sighed. "Too bad we didn't have time to spring Akane from the police impound lot. Having her might have given us an edge, too. Or made our entrance just a little cooler, especially if I rode her through the smoke bomb."
"We will retrieve your motorcycle when we are done here," he assured him.
"I don't like the idea of leaving her behind…" He paused, his words trailing off. Then he swallowed and forced them out. "Just like I was willing to leave you behind."
Still walking, Sesshoumaru turned his head to regard him.
"I let myself become overwhelmed by fear," Tora admitted. "I've spent the past year giving you guidance. Advising you on what it means to serve a community." He chuckled ruefully. "I've even coached Kagome on the importance of letting the police do their job, but also believing in you when it was our turn to fight. But what did I do this morning? When the moment came, I was squabbling with some poor detective who came to us for help when I should have been at your side, lending you my support."
"Tora-san…" Kagome began.
"No," he continued. "I let you down. I let you all down. Because I was afraid. Terrified. I still am."
Sesshoumaru's attention returned to the parkway ahead and the jumbled mess of vehicles scattered across it. "A friend once told me that overcoming failures is never easy, and neither is becoming the person you were meant to be."
Tora laughed under his breath. "Sage advice from a brilliant man."
"That aspect of the man's character is debatable," he noted wryly, "But, the advice he gave has merit."
"It does." Then he exhaled a heavy sigh. "Thank you."
Sesshoumaru breathed in deep through his nose, scenting the air, and scanned the area for points of cover, his attention settling on the tower's porte-cochere. "And we will save her."
Both Kagome and Tora looked to him, and the fear buried deep within them surface in their weary eyes.
"I swore a vow. No more innocents will die today."
They nodded, and their chests swelled, clearing away any doubt they still harbored. No matter what, by the end of the day, they would get Mama back.
"And now I believe," Sesshoumaru added, the youki in his gauntlets spiraling out, catching the tails of his tunic and silver hair. "It's time for a little demonstration."
A gust of wind buffeted against their bodies and when they looked to him, he was gone.
A silver blur jetted down the parkway, weaving between vehicles and leaping over bodies. Heartbeats filled his ears. Some thumped slowly, weak from blood loss. Others thundered so quickly that they almost hummed. But no matter their strength, all beating hearts betrayed themselves, revealing his prey while they knelt behind concrete terraces and pillars. They formed a bulwark of assault rifles around the tower's porte-cochere, one that had been well tested against their yakuza brethren.
The stink of blood and secretions filled the air, too, spoiling in the blistering heat. Approaching the tower from the parkway had sprung a trap and the dead men and perforated vehicles proved it effective. That is against mere humans with questionable taste in fashion.
He landed beside an armored truck, his sudden stop sending his hair and tunic whipping. His gauntlets flared white as he poured youki into them and in his next breath, the power surged back into him twentyfold. Glowing bright, his sclerae turned red and his fangs sharpened into knives. A test of strength was in order.
He grabbed the truck and its heavy steel crumple like tissue in his hands. A savage growl bubbled from his throat, and the multi-ton vehicle started to creak and whine as he slowly hefted it off the ground. Then with a snarl, he threw it into the air. Leaping up after it, he gracefully spun, bringing his foot up and kicking it hard with his whole body.
The truck rocketed through the air down the parkway, arcing upwards towards the horizon. As it blasted along, it smashed through a billboard advertising a local museum's new meteor exhibit which sent it somersaulting towards Tokyo Bay until it was nothing more than a glinting speck in the distance.
Nimbly, Sesshoumaru landed where truck had once been, his body squared with the porte-cochere and he awaited his prey's answer to his entrance.
To his smug satisfaction, gasps and whimpering terror were their replies, though it was nearly drowned out by another man's uninhibited cheering.
"%$#& yes!" Tora screamed from afar, overflowing with schoolboy giddiness as he and Kagome jogged towards him. "I've been waiting for this moment! It didn't make it all the way into space, but damn, that was close enough! It must be in the bay somewhere by now. So %$#&ing badass! Do it again!"
Smirking to himself, Sesshoumaru snorted. "One space truck is all you get."
Before his disappointment could register, the rapid bark of an assault rifle shattered the air.
Reaching out, Tora grabbed Kagome by her Kevlar vest and together, they dove behind the closest armored truck. The truck rang brightly as the bullets struck it, speckling its matte black finish with shining, silver dents.
The spray of gunfire strafed across the parkway towards Sesshoumaru, chipping away at the asphalt. With a burst of speed, he dodged their volley. Zigzagging his way towards the heartbeats hidden in the porte-cochere, he left a trail of ghostly afterimages for them to chase, each one closer than the last. He exploded into covered courtyard, his tunic and mane flaring around him as he bounded off the pillars, bullets whistling past him.
Yelping in surprise, suited men sporting sunglasses and black rifles stumbled back, their clever trap spoiled. Triggers pulled in terror, their deafening gunfire turned wild and bullets littered the porte-cochere, fracturing the tiling and shattering the doors and windows into the tower. Tinkling shards of granite and glass rained down, pelting the ground, and through it, Sesshoumaru sprang.
His clip spent, a man reached into his pocket for another when Sesshoumaru grabbed him by the collar and flung him into the back of his companion. With a grunt, the men flew forward, bouncing off a nearby pillar. Their rifles spun across the ground and in a fluid sprint, Sesshoumaru scooped them up. He dug his claws into them and in a hail of polymer plastic and metal, he ripped them apart.
The barrel of another rifle swept towards him and he spun to one side.
Time slowed.
He could hear the rifle's mechanisms sliding and clicking. Ammunition loading. The hammer striking. Gunpowder igniting. The explosion and the bullet's flight. The ringing of the ejected shell as it danced across the ground.
His senses were everything he remembered… and more. Had he always been this fast? This aware? Or had it simply been so long since he'd wielded his own power that he'd forgotten what it felt like? Or was it something more?
He snatched the rifle by its barrel, yanking its bearer forward into his readied fist. Barely a tap sent the man off his feet, senseless as he tumbled back through shattered hotel door and into the lobby.
The gauntlets, perhaps. Or…
Bullets whizzed by Sesshoumaru's head and he shook away his thoughts. Now wasn't the time to wonder.
Twirling the rifle once, he carried it like a club and started to swing. One-by-one, he mowed through the remaining men until he broke the rifle against the last one's back. The man collapsed into a writhing mess of pain, joining his brothers in their moaning and pathetic pleas for mercy.
Glass crunched and he coolly looked up to see Tora and Kagome surveying the damage.
Whistling, Tora knelt to pick up one of the rifles and started dismantling it in a gentler way compared to the fate of the others. "Terrifyingly efficient, as per usual."
"You expected anything less," Sesshoumaru replied.
"Anything less would not be befitting of a youkai lord."
He snorted, amused.
"Is there anyone left in the lobby?" Kagome asked, peering into the darkness.
Lightly, Sesshoumaru sniffed the air. Then he shook his head. "No, they have fled or are engaged elsewhere." He turned to Tora. "The plan can proceed as intended. If you encounter any problems, call me."
Smirking, he held up a dog whistle, spinning it between his fingers before palming it.
He looked to Kagome next. "Are you ready?"
She nodded.
"I know that you've probably already realized this," Tora added, "And I know this will make me sound like a misogynistic asshole for asking, but those gas-tipped arrows won't penetrate glass. They'll just shatter against it."
"Don't worry," she assured with a smile. "I have a plan. Just be there. And believe in me."
He chuckled. "I already do."
Then he sprinted through the shattered doors into the lobby and the darkness beyond.