K: Tales of Midnight
Chapter Seven: Underworld
It was half past midnight as Captain Munakata led Saruhiko Fushimi down a windy narrow stair into the sewers beneath the city, with nothing but a fist-sized ball of Munakata's aura hovering above them to ignite their path ahead.
It was cold and dank and smelled like fish, though not the kind that sounded appetizing. It was far too pungent, verging on the cusp of the unbearable the deeper in they went. On every surface lay a filthy layer of grime that only served to add to the displeasure of it all. Fushimi wasn't a stickler for cleanliness any more than the next guy, yet the sight of the abhorrence lingering around them made him cringe. Unconsciously, his upper lip curled sideways with disgust.
It had been without a word of warning when the Blue King called Fushimi out of Scepter 4 to join him on what seemed to be some sort of covert mission through the slime-infested passages of Shizume's Underworld – not at all the keenest of places that Fushimi would have liked to have spent his night parading in. His only thought to reason why the Captain would have dragged him there without an explanation was that Kiyoka had since given him the coordinates of Hisui Nagare's lair – his true lair – and that time was of the essence in discovering it and bringing it to rest; however, truth be told, now that Rei Kiyoka had been more or less deemed one of the 'good guys,' Fushimi was a little less certain as to what the overall objective was.
Naturally, the Kawaguchi Algorithm in the hands of the Green King posed an ample threat that needed to be dealt with. Already, it had been used to ramp up Jungle's network in some brazen scheme to virtually give the citizens of Tokyo the power of an aura. If left unfettered, all the world could be next – an outcome that Fushimi and the rest of Scepter 4 would fight at all costs to avoid.
It was also true that Nagare was a proven egomaniac, a dispenser of chaos whom, in Fushimi's eyes, was better stripped of power than allowed to roam unchecked as he had done from the beginning; however, neither of these reasons served to change the fact that what Fushimi had to do, the part he had to play, was suddenly obscure. Everything he'd done and sought to fight for up until then seemed at once inconsequential.
The Kawaguchi Algorithm had been made by Rei Kiyoka, given to Hisui Nagare by Rei Kiyoka, implemented on the citizens of Tokyo by Rei Kiyoka; the one working with Nagare to complete his goals in every regard – his own right hand, as it were – was no other than she, the darkened silhouette, the hazy, unidentifiable figure, the one and only Rei Kiyoka. She had been Fushimi's mission, his obsession. Nothing else and no one else compared; yet somehow now, that very same Rei Kiyoka lay protected under the auspicious care of Blue King Reisi Munakata? Was someone joking? What part of that was supposed to make sense to Fushimi? Was he blind in finding fault in it? In seeking for answers? Naturally, not. Though none seemed keen to offer him any, as though in fact, it was quite wrong to question it. Such was enough to make him unilaterally confused – not to mention pissed; yet that was not the end of it. For all these things, having been so gloriously deceived, not merely by Rei Kiyoka but by Munakata himself, it appeared he was to linger in the darkness of the lost and the unknown, for despite several attempts to gain an explanation (not of grander things pertaining to Rei Kiyoka, but of petty little matters such as what it was they happened to be doing in the depths of the Underworld at so ungodly an hour) the night had passed considerably and still – to the burgeoning contempt of Fushimi – the Captain mentioned not a word to him. Behind his ever-lingering scowl, a mighty furnace raged, though he knew not what to do with it – that is, not yet.
About halfway down their spiral trek, the slick wet walls expanded into one wide central cavern. The Captain shot his aura light above them to its core. It grew into a larger sphere, softening the scene with pearly bluish hues that shown down from a vaulted ceiling high above a river full of waste. Even in the hazy dim, the scene was hardly awe-inspiring, particularly when paired with such a rancid stench, though something in its emptiness confirmed to both that watchfulness ran rampant in the dark, despite the bare facade that had been carefully laid out for them.
From the breezeless cavern echoing the pattering of droplets falling somewhere far away, scores of tunnels branched in all directions, no doubt leading downward to the populated areas of the Underworld, or else to countless darkened halls ill-kept if not abandoned or forgotten altogether. It was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. Such was the way of the Underworld: no path was ever certain but that all were met with darkness at the end.
Fushimi stole an eye up to the ceiling, spotting massive cobwebs dripping down like haunted banners hanging limply in the air. "Would you mind telling me now why you dragged me all the way down here on some independent crusade, Captain?" He ventured in another gruff attempt.
There was a mild silence after and Fushimi had a passing thought that this attempt, as well as every other, had been brutally in vain.
"I'm surprised," the Captain said at last. Fushimi was so thrilled, it made him that much more annoyed. "I thought you would have been pleased at the prospect of a solo operation, Mr. Fushimi. After all, is that not your preferred method of conducting yourself?" He gripped a metal ladder and descended down, the pair then forced to walk along the riverbed.
Fushimi followed, though his foot slipped on the final bar and he landed with a splash into a puddle full of muck. A grumble of revulsion hit the air as, one-by-one, he gave each boot a steady kick, shaking off the filth. "I was under the impression that working solo necessitated the need for just one person, Captain," he replied, raising up his right boot to examine the sludge caked thickly on its sole. "And yet, here we are," he intimated, plopping it down again. "The two of us. Some solo operation." He carried on, not bothering to look in the direction of the Captain as he did.
Reisi Munakata brimmed with pleasantry. "I do believe you are angry with me, Mr. Fushimi."
"What gave it away?" The young man answered idly from the rear.
The Blue King hummed a chuckle of amusement. "A part of you I've always liked, Mr. Fushimi, is your vast indifference toward those endowed with higher powers than your own."
"I don't see what's so special about them," Fushimi made to answer, his annoyance pricked again. "All power does is give ordinary people a better chance at screwing things up – that, and an obsessive superiority complex." He couldn't help a slide a minor glance out to the Captain as he came upon another puddle swamped with soggy leaves and bits of Styrofoam. This one, he successfully avoided.
"Power doesn't make people better," he went on. "It usually always makes them worse. And here, I'm supposed to bow down and accept that? Like I'm admitting I'm just some worthless being in comparison?" He clicked his tongue. "No thanks."
"Yes, that is precisely why I admire you," resumed the Captain. "There is no aspect of such power that you find to be of any reputable value. In fact, if you felt anything beyond indifference, I would think it would be that you loathe the power of kings. As it happens, it is because of that blatant honesty symbolic of your character that I honor your opinion."
Fushimi twitched at the compliment, feeling in this moment, all his questions swirling round inside the silence, the silence that the Captain seemed to offer him. With a mild shrug, though still annoyed, Fushimi caved. "I don't mind you giving orders, Captain, but what I do mind is following along blindly for a cause I've been deliberately kept from. If you knew her, why didn't you tell me? At least then I could have been prepared. As it was, you had me running in circles, looking like an idiot. You of all people run on efficiency, Captain. What part of that was supposed to be efficient?"
The Captain pondered a moment. "Efficiency is proven in results, is it not? Seemingly meaningless actions jumbled together may appear chaotic; however it is what comes after – the fruition of these actions – that will ultimately prove just how efficient was the path that led one to success."
"Don't give me that," Fushimi checked him. "You could have filled me in, so why didn't you? And don't say it was because you wanted to make it look more realistic."
The Captain answered airily. "I merely hoped that you would form a natural opinion of her."
A grinding footstep brought Fushimi briskly to a halt. "'Natural?'" He repeated back. "Nothing about her is natural."
Munakata turned a sidelong grin to him. "Nor you, I would imagine."
Fushimi slunk uncomfortably and the Captain's smile grew. He turned again and carried on. "Early on, I sensed growing familiar between you two – a resemblance in potential, if you will – and in my curiosity, I simply wished to see how said potential stood to flourish as a product of continued interaction."
Fushimi's tone was anything but delicate. "That's a horrible excuse. Now I wish you had told me it was to make it look more realistic. At least that's a somewhat tactical reason and not completely pointless."
The Captain seemed to shrug. "Very well, then. I was 'trying to make it look more realistic,'" he cooed. "Does that please you?"
"Not even a little," Fushimi shot back. "Especially since she knew everything, and so did you. I was the only one involved who didn't actually know I was involved. It wouldn't have taken your brain to know that I'd have a problem with it, yet you went and did it anyway. I want to know why. What is so important about her that you'd shut me out?"
The Captain didn't answer.
"I get that you were using her as a spy and all, and that part of maintaining her cover was to make people think she was the enemy – those of Scepter 4 included – but that's not the whole story, is it?" He asked. "There's more – a lot more, and for whatever reason, you're being more difficult than usual about it. So I'm asking you nicely to stop messing around and tell me what it is. Given just how thoroughly you've been using me in all this, don't you think I've earned the right to know what's really going on? And why you've been so secretive about it?"
"In this 'messing around,' as you say," the Captain quoted him, "I find myself compelled to note that, as I may appear to be 'difficult,' you also seem quite vexed compared to your usual petulance, Mr. Fushimi."
"Hell yeah, I'm 'vexed,' Fushimi mimicked him. "You knew the whole time and yet even last night when all of –" he waved a gesture – "that happened, when it was clear an explanation was in order, you just left me there and expected me to look after her without an explanation as to why I even should — not the truth of it, anyway. All you did (or what the Lieutenant did) was throw a bunch of facts up in the air and just assumed it was enough. Then later, when it suited you to come back and deem me as unnecessary, still keeping me out of the loop, you proceeded to tell me that her life was in my hands? If you really trusted me with that like you claimed you did, if you honestly believe in anything you just said about me, you'd know I'm not the kind of person who's so easily pawed into obedience. I've never been one to play the pawn, Captain. You said so yourself. I sure as hell don't intend to be one now."
"Nor would I expect you to be," Munakata assured him. "Thus have I've brought you here under the pretense of revealing my intentions; though I have to wonder if, at the heart of all these questions, Mr. Fushimi, there does not lie a certain weight upon your conscience – something you've not brought yourself to face because you choose not to accept it."
Fushimi met him with a direct look. "Seriously? We're really going to do this now? Instead of answering the question, still you're going to make me work for it?" A moment passed, the Captain saying nothing. Fushimi waved a weary hand before him. "Great," he shrugged, allowing his frustration to bolster him a pace or two ahead of the Captain, the pair then met alongside by another arching cavern veering left into the void.
The Captain paused, staring into it. Issuing two fingers out, he waved the light before them. A smaller, rounded passageway took shape and they ventured in, walking side-by-side.
"It was a simple observation, really," came the Captain's smooth defense.
"Maybe for you," Fushimi countered.
Munakata then unleashed another of his teasing looks to pierce the hazy bluish scene surrounding them. It was one of those dual features where an outer hint of playfulness was dwarfed beneath a greater sense of fondness and intention that took shape around his eyes. It made Fushimi angry every time, giving him the feeling that the Captain was somehow cheating. It didn't seem fair, as he never knew how to react. Was the Captain truly toying with him? Was he testing him? Or maybe, just maybe, was he trying to tell him something? Fushimi could never tell. So instead of wasting energy, he resumed his usual scowl, clicked his tongue, and allowed his smug superior to relish whatever moment he seemed to be having.
Just ahead, their light revealed a looming fork, and once again, the pair were forced to stop. "Now, here is quite the riddle isn't it?" Munakata said, scanning either fork.
"You mean your map didn't tell you about this?" Fushimi said sarcastically, waltzing past the Captain. He knew as well as anyone that maps were rendered useless in the ever-changing sanctum of the Underworld.
Peering into each, they both appeared the same, though scorch marks on the ground and walls called out to him intrinsically within the left-hand fork. He took a knee, sweeping his long fingers in an outline on the ground. Munakata followed suit and crouched down low beside him, watching.
Fushimi drew his fingers back abnormally clean. The grime had been erased from where he outlined. The stone was dry, warm, and stained a jet-black hue. An aura had been used – and recently, too.
The Captain whisked his ball of light before then into the fork. More of the same markings covered every wall. "You see, Mr. Fushimi?" He said, rising. "Why carry a map when I have my hidden weapon user?"
Fushimi rose, released a scoff, and together, the pair began to follow after the scorch marks.
"Captain, these aren't ordinary aura burns," Fushimi pointed out. "They're the same ones that woman made at Headquarters."
"That is correct," replied the Captain, ignoring Fushimi's staunch refusal to call Kiyoka by name. "Which brings me to the matter of Miss Rei," he said, inciting a small flicker of attention from Fushimi.
"As I'm sure you've already guessed," he began, "Miss Rei had indeed been delivered by myself from the unfortunate fate she had endured for many years since the time of her childhood – that is to say, a life of isolation and no small amount of pain, perpetually bound to the scientific whims of a certain medical organization called Ignatius Banks."
"I've heard of it," Fushimi noted. "They're the leading institute in genetic engineering."
"The very one. And while, on the surface, Ignatius Banks retains its place as Japan's most successful institution providing significant genetic discoveries to mankind, underneath lies a world of supernatural exploitation that fuels its outlying success, one of these exploitations being –"
"The creation of the Imperium drug," Fushimi finished for him.
"Indeed. And as it happened, Miss Rei was one such subject who took part in the early stages of what we now refer to as the Imperium Procedure."
Fushimi scowled. "'Since the time of her childhood?'" He repeated. "You're telling me she grew up in a place like that? Trapped in some fluorescent prison, being experimented on like an animal?" Just then, Kiyoka's words came flooding back to him. Can your worth be measured in a test tube? She had challenged him but hours ago. Fushimi tightened up. The words still echoed sourly in his mind. Mine can, he heard her say over and over again, spinning inside his head like a merry-go-round that wouldn't stop. Unsettled, he turned his face away, hiding his expression from the Captain. "You mean she lived like that her whole life?" He asked in something of a whisper, and he realized he was angry.
The Captain, had he noticed, made no sign of it. "The greater part of it, yes," he answered. "Some of her earliest memories can be recalled as those trapped ever in a cell or in a lab, constantly injected with every variation of the Imperium drug – among other elixirs, I would imagine." A flicker of venom surfaced in his voice, but only just, and then it disappeared. "Venturing a guess, if you were to ask her what her life was like before Ignatius Banks, I doubt she would have an answer for you."
And here, I thought my childhood was bad, Fushimi mused.
"As Lieutenant Awashima has already supplied," resumed the Captain, "there are many, who, like Miss Rei, have spent their lives in a similar state of captivity, and upon learning this, I proactively engaged myself in bringing them to safety under the protection only Scepter 4 can provide. Among those whom we had liberated, however, it was Miss Rei who was a rarity among them, as it was she alone who had survived the Imperium Procedure to completion." He gave a thoughtful hum, reflecting, as it were, on the memory of it all. "She was remarkable, really," he confessed. "Not only did I detect a highly gifted Strain and aura wielder when I first encountered her, but I noticed something more, something I…did not expect." He took another step and paused. Fushimi, just behind him, stopped as well.
"What I found," the Captain stated gently, his back to Fushimi, "was a quality much more infinite in value than the ones she's since acquired — a quality I cannot, in proper terms, convey to you so as to make you recognize the depth of my intent. Merely, I understood her as an individual to whom I would devote myself entirely. It is she, I realized, who would very well become the one to tip the scale and so distort the balance of the kings, of the very power governed by the Slates. For this, I took it upon myself to keep her safe at any cost, even if it should be my life – or even yours, Mr. Fushimi," he said, glancing back to his subordinate, "that is the price in order to save hers."
Fushimi studied him, frowning at the Captain's sideways features, though the bulk of them lay shrouded in the shadow of the passage. "The way you're describing her," he said, taking one step forward, "who's to say you're any different from the ones you took her from? You talk of keeping her safe, claiming she possesses qualities of great importance to you; but what you're really doing is using her just like everyone else."
"I grant you that assumption," said the Captain, unruffled. "Though I would urge you not to deny what it is I know you saw."
Even in the dark, Fushimi glimpsed a knowingness presiding in the Captain's eye, and against the growing weight of it, he flushed and looked away, calling forth the memory of the Captain with Rei Kiyoka in his arms, the medicine he fed to her so carefully, so lovingly, the bond that was so evident between them – as much as Fushimi wanted to deny it. How could he possibly forget? It was almost traumatizing. Even the thought of it was enough to prick the little hairs to full attention at the back of his neck.
Sensing this, the Captain took Fushimi by the shoulder, prompting his subordinate to look at him. "Can you really recall my actions earlier today and attest with proper honesty that I intend to use her for my own designs?" He was looking squarely at Fushimi then, his eyes a blatant question, impassioned and – for all Fushimi guessed – sincere.
Beneath the mounting pressure of it all, Fushimi tensed, then let himself relax. The Captain was right. Fushimi had seen something – not just the unabashed actions on the part of the Captain that would forever lay ingrained within his memory, but something still more. It had to do with her, as it always had before, only this time, it was different. This time, he was angry in another way, a way he wasn't used to. Before, anger was just anger; but this, this was something else.
"She risked her life for you," he said at last, facing the Captain coolly, "meaning she trusts you."
"And you don't, Mr. Fushimi?" The Captain asked, amused.
"You know I don't," he answered. "You're a king – and a particularly shady person even if you weren't one," he added. "I will never trust you."
Munakata blinked into shrugged. "Fair enough."
"But she obviously sees something different in you," Fushimi pointed out. "And you just went and rolled with that, didn't you? You didn't even have to force away her freedom like the others did. She gave it to you willingly because somehow she's gotten it in her head that she's safe with you – her 'brother,' as it were," he added, failing to conceal a momentary flinch at the word. It shocked him that he could feel just as flustered in that instant as when Kiyoka had first uttered it. True, it sounded strange to him at the time, but now, saying it himself, it just sounded stupid. However, that wasn't how the Captain seemed to take it. Instead he seemed serenely comforted by it.
"That is a title I deeply cherish," he admitted thoughtfully. "Indeed, I have come to regard her as my own flesh and blood. She is one whom I have sworn my very existence to, though it is not her power to which I place my devotion, mind you, but that quality I mentioned to you before. That which lies within the heart of Rei Kiyoka is something that cannot be replaced; and when I say that I would give my life for hers, what I mean is that she is a person of immeasurable worth to me. You see, I happen to love her."
Fushimi wasn't expecting that. Caught off-guard, he met the Captain, wide-eyed with surprise. The Captain, on the other hand, seemed pleased with this response. "Now you understand," he said, nodding. "Now you can believe that I will do everything in my power to protect her. Tell me, Mr. Fushimi," He said, taking a step to set his hand back gently on Fushimi's shoulder. "Is what I hold most dear sufficient for you to place your faith in me?"
Fushimi tried to meet his stare, though in the end, he clenched his teeth and glowered at the floor, unable to mask his defeat. "Well, if what they say is true, Captain, you can see everything," he said, strolling out of the king's grasp. "With a power like that, sometimes I wonder why you even have to ask."
The Captain smiled thoughtfully after him. "No, I suppose not."
"So then," Fushimi went on. "You took her in, made her your family." He paused and turned, waiting for the Captain. "Then what? You figured she'd make a good spy, so you shipped her off to work for the Green King? I'm no authority when it comes to heartfelt relationships, Captain, but even I can't help but wonder: after everything she's been through, if you love her so much, what was so important that you would have risked her life — the life you said you've devoted your very existence to," he added, glaring sidelong at the Captain's growing smirk. "After seeing the state she was in last night, I have to ask: was it all worth it? This ruse you had to send me after her – it was to prove that Scepter 4 had nothing to do with her, which gave her (and you) more freedom to act; though don't you think you're taking it a little far?"
"Set all that Imperium-Ignatius-Banks-torture stuff aside for a minute and look at the facts. You allowed her to hand over the Algorithm to the Green King – whom we all know is a psychopath – knowing full well that he'd use it to expand Jungle's network. After that, it wasn't long before he used it to attack Shizume City (with her help), and we both know he won't stop there. Soon, he's going to try using it to spread supernatural power to anyone and everyone one earth – assuming that's his ultimate goal. If that's what you're trying to avoid, Captain, then you're doing a pretty lousy job of it. I get that mine is just a limited knowledge," he said, scowling once again in the direction of the Captain, "but it doesn't take a genius to know that what we're supposed to be doing is combatting terrorism, not aiding it."
"You are correct," returned the Blue King, as though Fushimi needed reassurance of the obvious. "However, in the grand scheme of things, my interference and your knowledge would have only hindered matters more than aided them. The risk to Miss Rei alone would have been considerably higher had that been the case; and as you now know, I am rather protective of her. Thus, as a result, certain courses of action were necessary – crucial information withheld, misinformation leaked, battles intentionally lost in paving the way toward winning the war."
"And I take it part of winning the war also means finding Nagare's lair?" Fushimi added, at which he flicked a gesture in the air. "I assume that's that we're doing down here." Then his voice dropped, "Or won't you tell me that?"
He hardly waited for the Blue King to refuse to answer him. With a bitter scoff, he drew a parting step away, then jerked into a halt, the Captain's outstretched hand before him shooting out a warning, driving him to silence.
A weighted pause enveloped them.
"It appears we are to be welcomed momentarily," The Captain whispered, peering out into the cavern that surrounded them, as though he saw something, or someone. Fushimi, likewise, peered in all directions, seeing nothing. Then a realization struck him squarely and he shrugged.
"We're bait, aren't we?" He said accusingly to the Captain.
"What gave it away?" Munakata purred, as though the situation were comical.
Fushimi laughed without exuberance, reaching for his saber. "Again with you not telling me things," he pointed out, unlocking the sheath and drawing the blade in unison with the Captain.
"Fushimi – "
" – Munakata – "
" – Ready," both declared, and not a moment too soon. In uniform, the pair lined back-to-back to form a single force as one large burst of blinding light shot outward from the far side of the cavern, stirring up a wave of putrefaction in the air. It struck the shield of icy blue emitted from the Captain and Fushimi, the power of their barrier deflecting it and casting it in multiple directions, the force dispersed and fading into smoke.
The cavern lay entrenched inside a whirl of haze replete with dust; then out of it, a company of masked assailants rushed the pair, their weapons drawn, the entire party launching beams of fiery green – the green of Hisui Nagare – against the solid blue of Reisi Munakata.
Fushimi blocked a portion with a flourish of his sword. Beside him, Munakata did the same. In a violent crash that rumbled through the cavern, both the green and blue collided in a wall of force, deflecting one another in an equal draw, then settled in a vaporous cloud that lingered at their feet.
The assailants – twelve in number – came before them, fully armed, their faces masked. From their midst, a taller, equally shielded, yet more meticulously armored clansman stepped forward. Clad solely in black, save the bit of green that glowed along his chest and helm, he seemed more like a ninja – or rather a cosplay ninja, if Fushimi had to guess.
By way of a greeting, the pseudo-ninja reached behind him, gripped a pair of inter-sheathed short swords and brandished them before him with a sleek metallic flourish. His voice, mechanical as that of a machine's, invaded them and echoed in a tremor through the cave. "Well, well," he drawled out in a hum of static. "If it isn't the Blue King and his...pet," he said, craning his neck to scrutinize Fushimi. "We've been expecting you. That is to say: our King, Hisui Nagare, has been expecting you."
Fushimi paused. Uh-oh, he realized, pricked with dread. Rei Kiyoka gave the Captain the coordinates to Nagare's hidden lair last night – or at least I'm assuming she did. That's the only reason I can think of as to why she'd be so desperate to see him: because she'd finally managed to find what not even Nagare's highest-ranking operatives know about: the place he hides all his secrets. But what if it was actually a trap? Did he figure out that she was working for the Captain and then feed her fake information in order to lure him here and – "
"Sorry to have kept you waiting," The Captain said with blatant nonchalance, and Fushimi, cast abruptly from his speculations, turned a puzzled eye to him. "I would have come sooner, though I admit, you're a tad bit difficult to find," Munakata ventured, surveying the area around them as one appraises something of value, which Fushimi found rather odd. "So this is where Hisui's been hiding."
Inadvertently, Fushimi gawked at him. He can't be serious, he said uncertainly to himself. Surely he knows this can't be it…can it?
The ninja clansman appeared to find the Captains declaration just as curious as Fushimi had, though in a much more humorous way. "Yes, you certainly found us," he said, and burst into a maniacal static giggle, setting a gauntleted hand on his armored hip to steady himself. As he did so, a strange device peeked outward from a slit in his armor, catching Fushimi's attention, and most likely the Captain's too. It was rather small, intricate, emitting somber crystal rays as though it bore an aura of its own. Fushimi had never seen anything like it before. If he had to guess, it looked fairly important, which automatically meant it probably shouldn't be in the hands of Nagare or his servants. We're going to have to do something about that, Fushimi thought.
"I, in particular, have been rather anxious to meet you," the ninja remarked, having since composed himself. "After all, you both are worth quite a hefty amount of points."
"Points?" Fushimi scowled, lifting an eyebrow.
By way of an answer, the clansman sheathed one of his swords and rose an empty fist into the air, facing the Captain. From his wrist, a virtual screen appeared. It contained the face of Munakata with a number below it and a voice that said, "Blue King, Reisi Munakata, worth one hundred thousand Jungle points."
"The hell?" Fushimi scowled, appalled.
As though asking to be next, he saw the ninja shift his stance and direct his fist toward Fushimi. "Blue Clansman and former Homra clansman, Saruhiko Fushimi, worth ten thousand Jungle points," it read, much like a roster and certainly to Fushimi's discomfort.
The clansman chuckled wickedly. "A pair of kills this big would raise my ranking all the way to the top." Again with his jilted buzzing chuckle that was more like a screech than a laugh. "Looks like it's time to die now," he said, redrawing his second sword, and in a whirl, the battle was on again.
Instantly, the Captain and Fushimi darted sideways, feinted on both sides. Their sudden disappearance from the center of the cavern caused a moment's dissolution through the hazy fog to deal out several blows against the enemy – Fushimi toward the nearest clansmen with a slew of red-soaked daggers from his sleeve; Munakata with a steady punch that knocked another senseless into a wall.
"Fine, I give up," Fushimi said, feeling the Captain slide up next to him again. "The hell are we really doing here?" He asked, fending off a pair of bolts that shot out through the haze. The Captain reached out briskly in its wake, snatched a wailing clansmen as he sought to flee, and slammed him to the ground, rendering him unconscious.
"I thought you understood when I agreed we were bait," he said.
"Yeah, but for what?" Fushimi pushed him, his blade locked with another's in a frenzy of steel and supernatural power. He grit his teeth against the man, then shot a pulse of icy blue to ward him off. "What exactly did she tell you last night?" He said, momentarily freed. Motioning to the scene surrounding them, he said, "Clearly this isn't where she wanted you to go."
"On the contrary, I believe I followed her instructions to the letter," answered the Captain. With his sword upraised and pointed at the ceiling, he formed a mounting barrier to strike a pair of clansmen as they ran at him full force. One flew off into a branching cavern, swallowed by the void; the other crashed against a pillar, shattering the flimsy stones and bringing half the ceiling down on top of him.
Fushimi flashed his saber in the air, a beam of blue shot outward to deflect the falling stones. "You mean her dire quest was to tell you to go to some nonsense corner of the Underworld to meet with Team Ninja Warrior? I don't think so. What else did she say?"
Between them, a violent bolt of static green ignited in a blinding crash that parted them from one side of the tunnel to the other, the ninja leader perched atop the rubble, facing them.
"Well, then," he said, placing both hands on his hips. "Looks like I have you all to myself now."
Coughing through the smoke, Fushimi rose from where he landed on his knees and peered around the place. The ninja was right. All the other warriors had fled or since been taken by himself or by the Captain. Only the darkly clad Jungle operative was left, which Fushimi couldn't help but notice that the ninja seemed a tad overly pleased with.
"I would urge you to drop your weapon and surrender," came the Captain's steady challenge not far from him. "As you are outnumbered, submit now and you will be tried fairly according to the laws set forth by the order of Scepter 4 pertaining to supernatural wielders such as yourself. Henceforth you may consider yourself under my protection."
Their opponent bawled a digitized humming of a guffaw. "And give away my power? My freedom? Just like that? I think I'll pass." Once more, he rushed the pair, throwing out one aura blast after another against the pair, one of which struck Fushimi in the forearm as he made to counter it, sending him to his knees in a dire clutch of his forearm, the wound sizzling like the aftermath of a lightning bolt's wrath.
The ninja didn't stop, even as he reached the Captain. Suddenly brought face-to-face, they jostled symbiotically, the ninja keeping pace with Munakata as they struck and blocked and parried like a dance.
Fushimi looked on, momentarily dazzled by the ninja's skill, that is, until he realized: The Captain's movements are slow, sluggish. Hold on. The ninja's not keeping up with him. The Captain's just humoring him. In that moment, he understood. The Captain had a plan. He always had a plan. And just like always, he expected – nay, trusted – Fushimi to know it also. In this moment, he was providing Fushimi with an opportunity, and Fushimi, for once having realized and moreover understood, bolted at the chance.
Instantly, he darted upright, drew his hidden daggers, and worked his way through fallen rubble and Jungle clansmen into the darkness.
Meanwhile, the Captain carried on, seemingly enjoying himself as, one-by-one, the ninja darted off pristine attacks, and one-after-another, he deflected them with ease. "My, you are quite powerful indeed," he said by way of commendation. "I believe you will make a fine adversary one day."
"Why not today?" Defied the ninja, spinning round to issue an attack.
Once again, the Captain intervened, his saber warding off the blast that shot at him, then countering the ninja with a burst of blue that shot against the ninja's readily produced wall of green. "Because today you are beaten," the Captain answered as the aura bursts discharged themselves.
The ninja scoffed. "Oh really? What makes you so sure?" Confident, he launched another blow, which the Captain fended off, then landed in a threatening pose, his short swords interlocked into a deadly X before the Captain. He made to charge, then paused, the static of the Scepter 4 coms systems buzzing to life as the voice of Lieutenant Awashima's voice broke the air. "Awashima reporting in."
The ninja remained motionless, momentarily curious, and in a not-so-pleasant manner, he inclined his head, peering at the Captain with a glimmer of a question in the air.
"You are earlier than expected, Ms. Awashima," the Captain answered, maintaining a droll expression on the ninja. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Indeed, Captain," she answered. "We've secured the area in question."
"'Area?'" echoed the ninja. "What area?"
The Captain ignored him. "And the prisoners?"
Now the ninja tensed.
"Also secure, Sir," came the woman's prompt reply.
"What is this?" The ninja seethed, crouching defensively.
"Well done, Lieutenant," answered the Captain, rising to full stature with a smile. "It appears our work here is done," he said, addressing the ninja.
"What is she talking about?!" the ninja demanded in a growing rage. "What have you done?!"
"It's quite simple, really," explained the Captain. "I understand full well that his is not the hiding place of your king. In fact, I've known for quite some time that Hisui does not, in truth, possess just one base of operations, one single location in which to store the entirety of his secrets. That sort of thinking is too base for a man of Hisui's talents. On the contrary, I happen to know that he has many hiding places, some of which harbor highly incriminating secrets, and some that host none at all so as to cause a fair amount of confusion for those who happen to be out looking for them."
"If you knew that you weren't coming to find Nagare," the ninja countered, "then what are you really doing here? What was that woman up to? Answer me!"
"Yes, I'm just coming to that," soothed the Captain. "You see, it was recently revealed to me that your king has since developed a more advanced serum from Rei Kiyoka's blood in order to replicate her powers – this same Rei Kiyoka with whom I'm sure you are acquainted." To this, the Captain was met with a rather obvious growl, though he paid it little heed.
"I am also aware that he has managed to inject this replicated serum into a series of test subjects with promising results – results that have since eliminated the side-effects and subsequent deterioration of the host. The result is a perfectly healthy, unfathomably powerful supernatural wielder.
Naturally, weapons of so great a threat in the hands of a miscreant such as Hisui Nagare was an option I was not prepared to indulge in. Thus I set this little trap for you," he said, spreading his hands in gesture to the place. "One that led you to believe you were setting a trap for me. However, while you and your friends have been dawdling here, entertaining my subordinate and I, Lieutenant Awashima has been in the process of rescuing these test subjects your king has worked so tirelessly to acquire. In other words," he said, his tone grown devious, "one of his secrets has been found."
"You wouldn't dare!" the Ninja roared.
"But of course I would," the Captain answered. "I already have. And I would like to thank you for conducting your part in my plan so beautifully."
The ninja warrior fumed, releasing a venomous vibration through his helmet. "You will die, Blue King. And it will come from my hand." He lowered himself into another deadly crouch, the pair of his short swords aimed at the Captain's throat. "That will teach you to show some respect for Jungle and its king," he growled, and lunged forward, then jerked into a pause, instantly stilled by a slim red-aura dagger resting neatly at the base of his helm.
"You wanna run that by me again?" Fushimi asked, appearing behind the ninja.
"You!" His prisoner roared, and sought to grapple free, though Fushimi only tightened his grip further.
"I wouldn't if I were you," he said, knowing it was a lie and that he would absolutely fight back if it were him. Nevertheless, the ninja acquiesced, dropping his swords in a clang that echoed shrilly in the air. His body held fast, tense, his voice as frigid as an arctic storm. "You revolting piece of –"
"Come come, let us be amicable, shall we?" the Captain intervened peaceably. "After all, you are our guest, now...mister...?"
"Not 'mister,'" zapped the ninja, and with a steady whizzing sound, his helm released itself, a rush of pixels folding backward to reveal a feminine, bespectacled face flanked by wavy blonde locks. "My name is Hirasaka Douhan," she declared in a normal, non-mechanical voice. "U-rank Jungle operative specializing in covert action. And if you know what's good for you, you'll let me go."
"Somehow, I doubt the logic in such a statement," replied the Captain. "Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hirasaka. And well done, Mr. Fushimi. Your own covert action proved quite useful to the situation," he added, much to Hirasaka's evident glare.
Fushimi didn't notice. He was busy mulling over some of the other aspects of the conversation that went on as he was stealthily advancing on Hirasaka. "So," he said, addressing the Captain. "Even Awashima knew about it, huh? You know, Captain, if anyone's earning points around here, I'd say it was you – for being the worst boss ever. So that was what Rei Kiyoka was so desperate to tell you last night."
"Not quite," came Hirasaka's strained voice beneath his dagger, drawing his attention.
"What do you mean?" He asked, and jerked the blade up closer to her chin.
Hirasaka winced, pressured by his grip. "I think I may be able to offer you a bit more of the story," she struggled out. "And believe me, you both will be very interested to hear it." She hummed a little chuckle, this one less hypnotic but equally uncalled for.
Fushimi paused, frowning, waiting for the Captain.
"Very well, then," he acknowledged, and waved her in an orderly – almost bored – fashion to continue. Fushimi, acknowledging his Captain's order, lowered the blade just far enough for Hirasaka to speak freely while keeping his wounded arm locked tightly around her, pinning one of her arms against her.
Hirasaka gave an annoyed jerk against his hold, then released it with a sigh. "Nagare had indeed been successful in creating a foolproof serum – from the blood of his precious Kiyoka," she purred out in a manner that made Fushimi angry. "She is, after all, the one and only specimen known to have survived the Imperium Procedure to its fullest, most lethal form, which naturally Nagare took an interest in."
"Kiyoka came to us," she emphasized. "She said she wanted to use her power to serve Nagare, to serve the world. She said everything he wanted to hear and he was captivated by it. By her." Hirasaka scoffed incredulously. "She was everything he wanted, but all she had was a power that he wanted, nothing more. So just like that, he gave her everything!"
"And yet, after all that, after everything he did for her, this is how she repays him? By destroying the serum and everything else she helped Nagare to build – all of the research that went into creating a world of supernatural beings without the need for the Slate. Now all of that is gone! And all because of that poisonous Rei Kiyoka," Hirasaka hissed. Then she slunk back in Fushimi's hold.
"She thought she was so clever," the jilted ninja added mischievously. "She thought Nagare hadn't caught on to her yet." A wicked grin escaped her. "But her treachery was too deep to conceal, which is why at her last check-in, when she normally receives her dose of Imperium to stabilize her powers, I may have slipped her one of Nagare's more...potent experiments instead – one to make her go 'Boom!'" Eyes wide for effect, Hirasaka burst into a frenzy of giggles. "Tell me, did it work?" She asked against Fushimi's utterly shocked expression. "How did our dear Kiyoka fare as a result of my little switch?"
"You nearly killed her!" Fushimi hollered loudly in her ear. She flinched against the loud reverberation before bubbling over with laughter once again. Fushimi was so angry, his hand drew of its own accord to bring the blade back to the base Hirasaka's chin. He felt enraged, wishing to kill her, to kill Nagare, to kill a great many people; yet all the while a sense of powerless to stop what had already come to pass crept over him, as though he were somehow trapped, as though he had already lost. This sinking realization ate away at him, and with a meager face, he peered out to the Captain, searching for an equal look of panic and despair, but the Captain's face belayed all sense of dread, offering a near suspicious caliber of confidence instead.
Hirasaka seemed to take this as an answer to her question. "So, she's still alive – your weakness," she said acidly. "But no matter," she declared, her tone transformed, a smile on her face. "We've all a part to play in Hisui's game. It would seem that her part isn't over yet." Fushimi didn't like he sound of that. "You will tell Kiyo that, won't you?" She went on. "Tell her: This isn't over."
"Tell her yourself," Fushimi snapped, yanking her in place again to serve as a reminder of his hold on her. "Your time is up," he declared. "It's time to go."
"So it is," she said, her helmet morphing back to shield her as her form began to shrink. Fushimi gripped her tighter, though it didn't do a thing. Her body became warped, phasing itself out of Fushimi's grip until she vanished through the floor with another pixelated laugh. Then she was gone.
Munakata relaxed his weapon, readjusting his glasses with a sigh. "That may prove troublesome."
Fushimi merely stared down at the floor, dagger in hand, angry and bewildered by what just happened. "What did she mean that Kiyoka's part isn't over?" He asked.
The Captain sheathed his sword, watching it blithely as he did. "It means he isn't finished with her yet."
Fushimi stood up straight, eyeing the Captain with renewed interest. "But he tried to kill her," he specified, wondering in that moment if he meant that as a statement or a question.
"Perhaps," the Captain ventured. "Perhaps not. In the meantime, do you have the device?"
Fushimi blinked, taking in the sudden change of topic. "Uh, yeah," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I've got it right here." He placed the small crystalline object in Munakata's palm. "About halfway into it I realized what it is. It's a tracking device, only it doesn't track physical objects. It tracks supernatural energy. We can use it to trace Jungle's online network, figure out what they're planning (hopefully before it's too late and they catch on to us). But how'd you even know I'd think to grab it?"
The Captain bobbed the object several times before catching it and handing it back to Fushimi. "Because you wouldn't be you if you didn't hijack every piece of technology that caught your eye, Mr. Fushimi. Like a fly to the ointment."
"Flies get trapped," Fushimi pointed out, pocketing the device. "I just use the ointment to attract bigger flies."
The Captain laughed. "Yet another quality I admire about you, Mr. Fushimi. Shall we?" He offered, leading a hand in the direction of what Fushimi suspected was the way out. In truth, he was fairly turned around.
Sure enough, they headed out, pursuing an alternate path from the one they took before. This one followed a different vein of the underwater river that led them upstream instead of down, the smell of rancid sewage even greater in the path of the rolling current.
The whole way up, Fushimi sought to stifle back a gnawing tick, until at last, he couldn't keep it hidden any longer. "From now on I want to know everything," he said evenly, then turned to find the Captain staring fixedly at him, no longer with his pleasant features masking secrets, no longer with indifference or amusement but with genuine intent. "If you want me as your hidden weapon user," Fushimi pressed him, "Or if you want me here at all; if you trust me, and if you ever want to hope that one day I might actually trust you, then that's my price."
The Captain kept a keen eye on Fushimi, studying him, then popped his brow in something of a shrug. "Very well," he said, asking a smile. After that, no further word was uttered as they journeyed up and out into the dawning of a bright and early morning.
Chapter Eight: Esprit de Corps