PART XII. "Savages."

"I'm not afraid of God. I am afraid of Man."

- Marina Diamandis.

Kurama.

The new SDF captain was more open-minded than Ootake, the last. We'd recently strengthened the force field around the shrine in the mountains. Koenma supplied that a guide charged talismans with ki to let them work their magic. This kept the six of them out of Reikai's eyes as their power levels soared, but it was time. They had met their goal. They needed to return to Makai.

He said nothing as he opened a portal large enough for the lot of them to fit through. Koenma arranged this. Their contracts had expired, and they were close friends. He wanted them seen off in a way other than the masses normally were.

The captain made only one comment to me as I passed through with the rest: "an exciting life you live."

I paid it no mind—forced myself to—and gave a fleeting, polite smile. I knew this would be necessary—getting help from Reikai in some way to push the lot of them into Makai. With such power levels in a confined, immediate space, only a portal opened by Reikai would accommodate them fully.

Still, I itched with paranoia. At least, a side of me did. Another felt a rush of exhilaration at being caught. The same side who wanted so desperately to take Yomi's second in command's place out of the need to show dominance, superiority. The primal, youko side. Practically, I knew it wasn't wise to let things fall where they may like that—not if I wanted to be able to return.

The gaping mouths and stutters that left Yomi's posse upon arrival only fueled the ego.

"All six of them... They all have youkai power levels of over one hundred thousand," Yuda breathed. "What kind of black magic…?!"

Shachi tensed behind Yomi, who stood behind Yuda as he assessed the group. I could feel the rage boiling, despite keeping such a calm expression. He was about ready to snap. The only reason I could tell was because it was I who instilled the paranoia in him.

That he was being watched, studied—that he would soon be abandoned, replaced. Deem unacceptable by his leader, he would be cast aside. All his hard work the past few centuries would be for naught. His paranoia wasn't baseless, he knew. He "knew" from the beginning.

But now, as Yuda gasped in disbelief, he truly knew. No clouded suspicion, anymore. No doubt.

"They're just the result of delicious food and moderate exercise." My modesty was the knife in his side.

"Splendid work. Allow me to reward you." Yomi's voice was hard but level as he turned from the man with a gaping hole in his pride to me. "As of today, you will lead my army as its general. These six are at your command."

"Don't do this, Lord Yomi!" A fuse blew by his right eye. It took all the sanity and composure left in him to keep its lid from shaking. "Those six are his puppets! He may use them to overthrow you—"

"Shachi." Yomi's words were the final blow: "What have you even done for the past five hundred years?"

He lost his composure. The gritting of his teeth and the rage in his eyes as they landed on me from across the hall; they let me know to be prepared. His eyes landed on me, burning with one notion: I'll slaughter you.

In the lonely hallway later that night, he made no attempt to truly hide himself. Perhaps he had, but he had drowned in his own rage to where he was delusional. It would make it easier to kill him—not as if it wouldn't already be so. He stalked me with less grace than I had him. It wasn't mind games with him—no, his revenge needed to be satisfied immediately. He demanded results now, his pride depended on it.

He'd crumble when he realized everything he thought he had planned was ruined. A man such as him. His pride ripped from him, his reputation tarnished. His plan falling through will leave him waiting for me to end him.

"Are you prepared for what will happen after this?" I asked.

"Like I'd leave any evidence behind," he scoffed, emerging from the shadows of the hallway. "I'll be sucking the flesh off your bones tonight."

"Yomi's become much more patient than I ever thought he could be," I said, unable to keep from pushing him over the edge. I kept the taunting from my voice. The words were enough to keep him high on his emotions; tone was overkill. "While I don't know how many other potential replacements you've done away with, I know Yomi could have gotten rid of you whenever he wanted."

"Fuck you!" he snapped, reaching to his side for a communicator. Pulling it up to his snarl, he growled into the speaker. "Kara, when I give you the signal, kill that kid."

Ah, yes. The parasite youkai that took hold of Shuuichi briefly and had no tact in hiding itself in him. Shachi's men were as weak as he was—mentally and physically. A lone, cold threat was enough to send him running from Shuuichi's body.

His thumb released the button and static poured through the speakers almost immediately in response. "Sorry, boss. I'm not following your orders anymore. Don't want to get any more involved in this shit."

Shachi's entire composure faltered. The fins protruding from his face flanked in building fear and hopelessness. "What?! Hey!"

No response on the other end.

"So the loss of a lowly parasite youkai matters that much in the grand scheme of your plans?" I asked. "Yomi would have found a way to keep control over me without having to resort to a hostage."

He hadn't, but Shachi didn't need to know that. Anything to make him feel inferior—useless.

He lunged, trident unsheathed from behind him. Anger inhibited his full strength, but that meant nothing. Youki flourished from me in a unique way, and my body temperature spiked. An effortless, almost painless, transformation.

His underestimation of my power and lack of knowledge of my true form played to yet another one of my advantages. A quick reach to the back of my hair to pluck out a single seed. Its subsequent length, with just the few flicks of a wrist, wrapped around him and sliced through—shredding him completely. A rain of blood fell upon me briefly as his remains scattered to the floor.

I knew each drop of blood that fell to the floor, each body part that hit the cement below, reached Yomi's ears. He had heard everything, and I knew he would. I knew he would be listening. I looked back briefly to the mess behind me. Heartless, but a means to an end. Kill or be killed; he was a stepping stone for my climb to the top. Another body added to the list.

A shame, and yet I still felt nothing.

Koenma.

The dealership looked quiet on the outside. Shrouded in darkness, even the lot's lights were off. It had been a while since I watched the two head in. The talismans in the dealership messed with the omniscient view I could normally have. They left me to sit in irritation, staring at the shadows and hoping for movement.

...Movement from something other than the moving lights from a passing car. That alone was rare in itself, so late in the night, but they still managed to appear and steal my attention. I glanced at the small, gold clock on my desk.

"Hello!" A strangely familiar voice sang, causing me to all but jump out of my robes in fright.

Who got past Jorge? Not like I expected much from the imbecile anyway… I didn't expect anyone to visit at this time. I glanced to the large twin doors to find an old acquaintance. A much respected member of Reikai and Ningenkai alike.

"H-Hotei?" I gawked, reaching for the remote behind me on my desk. No, don't look suspicious—too late for that.

"I dropped by to say hello since I was in the castle," he explained. His wide smile pushed his plump cheeks up, enough to press against his drooping earlobes. He was the spitting image of the laughing Buddha statues that resided in Ningenkai... aside from his physique.

The bulging stomach was accurate—his pot belly was as round as ever—but he otherwise resembled an average middle aged man. The obesity given to him in his renditions were probably due to the idea of it being related to wealth and happiness. I was unsure and never particularly cared, to be honest.

"I was speaking to Enma, your father—"

"Yes, that would be him."

He gave a small, knowing smirk before reaching back to his neck to play bashful. His thin, barely visible brows rose to his never ending forehead.

"Still touchy, I see," he said, glancing to the screen. I pressed a button on the remote and the screen flickered off. "Then I should get going, I suppose. Wouldn't want to bother you."

What she saw in a pot-bellied man who resembled a monk was beyond me. A full head of hair didn't make the man… but it sure did contribute to it.

"I thought you would have grown out of your crush on Benten," he sighed, teasing me. I felt muscles in my right eye twitch. He was no mind reader, but I supposed he could feel the glare through the back of his head. Not much there to shield him from it, after all.

"I am," I replied a tad more haughtily than I would have liked. "I was younger back then. You just caught me off guard, is all. What brings you here?"

"Bringing verdicts of the deliberations among the Lucky Seven, is all." He waved me off with a cheeky smile.

He and the other gods of fortune had responsibilities that dealt with Ningenkai. They dealt with different matters in the depths of Reikai, away from the castle. I never paid attention to his work because it was one less signature I needed to produce. One would think merely dealing with the life and death was enough for two gods, but it was still somehow too much.

"What were you watching, Koenma?"

"Hm?"

"It was of a parking lot. Seems a bit boring for you."

I forced a laugh. "I keep getting the coordinates wrong. It's a little frustrating to end up in some pitch black parking lot."

He gives a calm smile, one that doesn't settle right with me, before turning to head to the doors. He doesn't involve himself with our affairs, I reminded myself, it doesn't matter what he saw.

"We should catch up sometime, Koenma," he says over his shoulder. "Ebisu has been very much into brewing tea lately, or so I hear."

"I'll double check my schedule," I respond half-heartedly. He disappeared behind the large doors.

Reikai was intimately connected and yet still so disillusioned with the happenings of each other's responsibilities. Word would spread in the wind to the other gods of our decisions. Then, they would come tell us of theirs when they affected the human's livelihoods in some way.

He wouldn't know I was looking at Barrier Regulations, but the idea I was caught in the midst of investigating unnerved me. He didn't involve himself in our affairs, I reminded myself. But still, the unease grew. I began to wonder how the rest of the gods in our realm would handle this if it came to light—who they would side with. How would they want to handle this, if they had the choice?

Then again… would they care at all?

Aiko.

Ears ringing. Blood pounding. Deaf. My body moved faster than my mind.

The bullet ricocheted off the—unsurprisingly bulletproof—window and buried itself into the wall near the door. A firm hand gripped my arm and thick fingers dug into the skin. Yanked around, my feet remained grounded. A wrestle for power, suffocating in sense of a familiar entitlement. Training was lost on me; strength, though, wasn't.

A quiet scuffle, full of grunts and mumbled grumbles of insults. My dominant hand pushed his wrist away, aiming the gun towards the ceiling. Jabs to my gut, millimeters of air away from knocking the wind out of me each time. Back sturdy, I held composure even when slammed onto the desk behind me. The monitor rattled above my head. He hovered over me, pinning me to the desktop. He fought to aim the gun at my head. No more questions. Shoot to kill. Find out later.

So close to the interrogation room, my ki fizzled out. Without thought, I rammed my shin between his legs. Fuck playing fair.

Though his knees buckled and face contorted comically in pain, he remained standing. His grip on the gun loosened, and I took the opportunity to knock it from his hand. It slid across the desk and clattered to the floor below. That same hand found its way around my neck as I leaned to grab it. A sharp pain flourished in the back of my head as it slammed against the desktop.

He reached for it; I grabbed his arm. His leg shifted towards it; mine wrapped around his. He growled and rammed his other hand onto my neck, pressing down. Blood still pounding—harder than before—head heavier. Reminiscent of last time. I clawed at his hands to pry them from my neck. His stare bored down on me, a fiery gaze of hatred.

Pure, unadulterated hatred.

Did he love his job that much? There was no way he hated me for me. Who was I to him? Nobody.

Each twitch of his face, each staggered breath, each centimeter adding to the curl of his snarl… Entitlement. Hatred. Apathy—about my welfare. Was he scared of dying? He had no reason to fear—not like I did.

Closed throat; air blocked. Head heavy; mind hazy. Vision loss was next if I didn't act.

It was him or me. If I let him go from this, everything would be over. Short term memories did not include a heated struggle. It was him or me. Him or me.

Him or me.

Him.

I slung my foot around the back of his and yanked it. His posture faltered; his grip did not. I charged at him, pushing myself off the desk. We fell, unbothered by the sudden jolt against the hard floor. My hands found their way around his thick neck. Hands too small to wrap around fully, I dug my thumbs into his windpipe.

The guard, with a stature matching those of professional martial artists, flung me off him. Rolling into the wall, I took in a breath of air for what felt like the first time in years. Disoriented, lightheaded, my eyes struggled to find him. He scrambled to gain composure, to get off the ground—anything to overpower me again. I couldn't let him get to the gun again.

I lunged for him before he could stand, grabbing hold of his belt from behind. I felt the shift of something in the wind and immediately reached for it. His fist knocked into my cheek, but my grip on him held firm. Fumbling with the sheathed item in my free hand, I finally got it to work.

I pressed my thumb against the harsh, rigid plastic and a bright crackle startled. He froze in realization. I shoved the handheld Taser into his backside. He gasped in pain, body shaking violently as he collapsed again. I climbed atop him and shoved it into the back of his neck just as he wildly thrust his elbow back at me.

I slunk back, dodging it, but let him pivot around. Pinning my hand to his neck, I shoved the Taser into his open mouth. He convulsed again, shaking, as I left it in there. I dug both my thumbs into his windpipe. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that made the electricity seem to last forever. Perhaps it was the fear. Even the thick crack under my thumbs didn't bring me to stop. It wasn't until the Taser died out that I pulled my hands from his broken neck.

I stared down in horror at the foaming mouth; the bloodshot, rolled back eyes. I couldn't breathe, but it wasn't his fault this time. The realization sunk in quickly. Warm, wet salt water spilled down my face.

"Fuck," Fukui hissed at the sight from the open door. "How the hell do you think we're going to clean this up?!"

I dragged my eyes from the dead body and set them on Fukui. Confused, full of regret and fear, I pleaded. "Fukui…?"

Her harsh gaze softened and she took a deep breath. "Okay… Okay." She raked a clean hand—connected to a blood-soaked forearm—through her hair. "We need to seal his soul before it leaks out." She headed over to the file cabinet and began rummaging. "Here. Slap this on him." She shoved a talisman in my face.

Talisman?

It must not have registered fast enough for her, because she groaned and slapped it on him herself. She practically pole-vaulted away from his body. When she saw I hadn't moved, she grabbed me by the collar and dragged me off him. The talisman lie on his head and only seconds later did it begin sparking. A strange, fluorescent white crackled around the paper and his body began glowing. His aura began dimming, moving, towards the talisman. Like a vacuum, it fled into the paper.

Smaller firm hands grabbed hold of my shoulders and began shaking. "You pull yourself together right now, Aiko. Or I swear to fucking god I will turn on you right this instant!"

I stared at her, bewildered still. The words registered but the sentence as a whole? No sense.

Her palm crossed my face, leaving a burning sting across my cheek—sharp enough to pull me out of the haze.

"Get your shit together, Aiko," she hissed. "I'll figure a way to clean this up. You get him ready and get out of here."

My eyes shifted from her to the open door behind her. There, the little boy leaned against the wall. He clutched his burnt stump of a shoulder with staggered breath. A few trails of blood trickled down his side, and I took in the sight. Too much of him was missing. Too much stuff had happened to him already to add this on.

My heart beat faster, my vision clouded. "This shouldn't have happened."

"Well, it fucking did. Now get up—"

"None of this should have happened," I cried, my hands finding their way to my face. "None of this should ha—"

My hands were ripped away and another sharp sting met my cheek. Then on the other. And again. And again. And again, and again, until the tears stopped and the pain overrode my guilt.

"Aiko, I swear to god." She kept swinging, her hand turning red and dry. "Pull yourself together!"

"Okay!" I snapped, jerking away. "Okay… Okay. I'm calm…"

I wasn't, but I didn't want her hitting me anymore. Steadying my breathing, I found the strength in my legs. Do now, cry later. Do now, cry later. Do now, cry now. Tears still spilled down my face, but I moved.

"Get him in the body suit so he doesn't drip blood everywhere," she ordered, heading back into the interrogation room. "They're in the closet next to the file cabinet."

I walked to the boy and though he flinched away from me as I went to guide him, his eyes lingered on my wet face. My hands hovered around him in a gesture to guide him inside the observation room. I rummaged through the locker-like closet with shaky hands before pulling out a sleek black body suit, reminiscent of a wetsuit.

I cleared my throat before kneeling in front of him. "Do you want me to help you put this on?"

He scowled. His nose scrunched and he looked away. "No, but I don't have a choice, do I?"

We looked down at the burnt stump that he held tightly, bitterly.

I forced a smile, pushing more tears out. "You're handling all this a lot better than either of us, you know?"

He gave me a look of disbelief, of hatred and anger. I looked to the ground in shame.

Gently, I helped him remove the tattered, blood splattered clothes. We threw them in the pile with the planned dead body and severed arm. The wet suit was a tad large on him, but after fiddling around with the sleek fabric we found a button on the cuff of the wrist. With one press, the suit tightened around him, fitting his shape. Air tight. Still, the empty sleeve hung limp at his side until we wrapped and tied it around his torso.

Fukui was already dousing everything in the bloody room with gasoline.

"What are we doing about the guard's body? Burning it, too?" I asked.

"No," she replied, digging in her pocket for a lighter. "We can't get rid of guards that easily, plus this isn't cremation. It just makes the body unrecognizable. They won't double check a youkai, but they'll check a human. We'll have to ask Akane for help."

My heart jumped from my chest to my throat. "No—"

She whirled around, spinning on her heel and shoving her face into mine. "I know what to do, Aiko. Just let me do it, and play along."

It fell into my stomach. "No. No. We're finding another way. How are you going to explain we decided to go do this together?"

"It's better than leaving this all to blow up," she snapped, turning back as she flicked the zippo open. She let the flame dance for a second before letting it fall to the ground. With one taste of the gasoline, it picked up a life of its own and traveled around the mess of a pile we created. "Look, we either get Akane to cover it up or we cover it up and let it blow everything to hell."

I paused, imagining all the possibilities of this being ruined. Either way, I was likely to be caught. Which did I want to gamble on? Fukui or myself?

I wasn't in the right state of mind to be making these decisions. And yet… I looked to the boy, who stared lifelessly at the burning pile.

"I can think of something to make Akane clean this up," she reassured me. "She can make him disappear. No crime scene investigation down here. No blow up of this break out. Besides, you think Akane wouldn't know how to get rid of a body?"

The word came out faster than I expected it to. "Okay."

Either way, I was likely to get fucked. All I had to do was get him to Genkai's before it was all over. At least then he could be interrogated. This could move forward if I could just get him to Genkai's…

She squeezed my shoulders. "Get him out of here."

I looked to him and knelt again. "Are you lightheaded? Can you run?"

He nodded, still staring at the fire. I put the camera back in my shoe and tried prepping myself for the act. With a deep breath, I held my hand out, waiting for him to grab hold. After a pregnant pause, he did.

"I'll be at the entrance soon for the distraction." She stared back at the flames that only grew. "Remember to hit the pager before you slip out."

We slunk out of the room, into the clean, bright hallways. No cameras to worry about. Hugging the walls near every corner, we waited for guards to pass before running out. Every second in the hallways was dramatic. Breath held for what felt like hours; eyes unable to stay still; sudden chills at the thought of being seen.

One guard stood around one of the corners, unmoving. It was either try to knock him out or run around ten other hallways and risk getting caught.

The boy acted like an obedient dog, watching for my hand signals when to move and stop. He pressed against the wall and I looked back at him. A silent nod for him to wait. He stared up at me, unresponsive, but I knew he understood.

Leaning against the wall, I watched the guard's back as I undid the button on my jeans with trembling fingers. An awkward scene—digging in my crotch—but the least of my problems. Opened the baggie… I dipped my fingers into the powder and avoided using them to button back up.

With a deep breath, I steadied myself. The pressure points were clear. They ached in me sometimes when I thought about that night. I sprinted, grabbing his arm. Before he could react, the first pressure point was shot. He froze, body jerking abruptly. Next pressure point—my hand crawled to his face. Fingers almost dug into his nostrils.

Within seconds, his body went limp. I whispered in his ear the false memory as I led him to the floor. Setting him against the wall, I looked around the hallway before gesturing to the boy. He was at my heels immediately.

Steadying my breathing, internally chanting to focus, we headed to the final hallway. We hid around the corner and glimpsed around it to find the lone guard at the stairway entrance. We waited for what felt like hours for Fukui to appear. Finally, she came around another corner, strutting in her heels.

I didn't have to spy around the wall to hear her dramatic fall—the exaggerated gasp was enough of a clue. The guard's back was to us.

Go.

He was at my heels again as we headed for the exit. By the stairway was a small counter of goods, held in what were reminiscent of the boxes in airports. I pinched the pager, pressing one button, before darting after the boy into the stairway.

"Ah, I wanted to get my pager," Fukui's faraway voice grumbled. "My cellphone broke a couple hours ago and that thing is all I have until tomorrow morning."

I grabbed the boy's arm and he halted, whipping around defensively. I held my hands away from him to show I meant no more harm.

"When you get to the top of the stairs, you need to leave the room," I whispered. "Keep going until you get into the parking lot; there will be a person out there waiting for you. There will be a car running. I can't go with you right now, but I'll be there soon." He didn't seem to care about that tidbit. "The person will put you in the car, okay? Wait for us there. You'll be safe, I promise. This was the worst of it."

In the dim lighting, he looked at me with sharp eyes. Then, he darted off, disappearing into the staircase's darkness. Worst case scenario he didn't go with Ryuunosuke, but that could be taken care of easily. I knew his ki and I had plenty of people to help with the footwork of searching for him. As long as he landed in someone else's hands, this would end up okay.

I darted back down the stairs and made it to the center of the hallway before the guard turned around to notice me. He'd helped Fukui up by the shoulder.

"Ha! What happened?" I laughed, bringing back the oh-so-trusty limp.

"I should ask you that," Fukui snapped. "What happened to talking to the prisoner? Why are your eyes so puffy?" She snickered. "Did you actually cry?"

"He… wasn't the guy." I feigned a sheepish smile as my hand went to rub the back of my neck. "I mean, he knew what I wanted, but he didn't…"

"So it was another waste of our time," she groaned. Rolling her eyes, she gently pushed herself off the guard. I reached for her and she took hold of my shoulder. "Let's just go. Maybe if I get home I can still make it in time to see Kato-Ken…"

"They're all reruns," I pointed out, guiding her to the exit. "Have you really never seen all of them?"

"Did you cross paths with Officer Suzuhara?" the guard asked, his voice gruff.

"No," Fukui replied, looking over her shoulder to him. She looked to me then. "Did you?"

I shook my head. "I left just a little after you. Maybe we missed him? Did he want something from us?"

"He said he went to check on something," he replied dismissively. He waited until we gathered our things before saying goodnight.

Fukui waited until we reached the top of the staircase to start bitching. "He knows something fishy. I told you that stupid limp was a fucking stupid idea."

"But we already got this far," I reassured myself. "Just drop me off at home and then get Natsume to clean this up. So long as I get him to where he needs to be before this blows up, this won't have been for naught."

If all hell broke loose, at least I'd be the only one she'd find. How was I going to get him to Genkai's…?

He was silent the entire car ride. We all were. Ryuunosuke dropped me off a block from my apartment, and the boy followed me from the car without signal. Fukui reassured me Natsume would be here soon enough to clean up the mess.

"I hate to use this," she said. "But we're 'crying rape'." I cringed and she inhaled sharply, frowning. "You got a better idea right now?" She didn't wait long enough for me to respond, but honestly… I probably wouldn't have been able to think of one. I could barely keep my mind on track as it was. "It'll be the easiest thing for her to believe. Prep yourself. Put on a show."

I looked to the boy as we made our way up the stairs of my apartment building. He was still fairly calm for the entire situation. I couldn't bear to leave him outside while I dug in my room for the compact, so he waited by the front door. As my hands scoured the inside of my desk's drawer in the dark room, I heard the creak of the floors in the hallway.

The boy? No. Dad.

I closed the drawer and moved to open the closet door. Sliding inside, I held my breath as I waited for him to pass. My heart-rate spiked as I remembered the boy at the front door. He was smart; he would figure to hide. But where?

Minutes that felt like hours finally passed, and his footsteps passed by my door again. His voice, light as a feather, stabbed at my heart.

"I'm tired, Aiko. I really am. Pack your things and leave."

The bridge of my nose stung; my eyes watered. I didn't reply; my breath hitched in my throat. His footsteps disappeared into the bedroom, and I slowly opened the closet. I gathered what I needed in a duffle bag and found the compact. Before leaving my room, I climbed up the bunk bed's ladder to see Minoru asleep. I pressed my face to his, cradled his cheek, and left a small kiss on his forehead. He didn't stir.

Heading to the front door, the boy was nowhere to be seen. He was outside. I locked the door behind me and wedged the key underneath it. I took the kid to the nearby park and we sat on the swings in silence. I didn't know how I was going to get him back. I couldn't leave, Natsume would be here soon… Botan's chipper, relieved voice on the other end of the compact felt surreal. But she'd be here soon, I reassured the boy. She'd be here soon to take him someplace safe. The night was almost over, I promised both him and myself.