A/N
Hey all. I think we can all agree that this chapter has been more than a bit overdue. Part of that has been in the writing itself. I've been laying plot threads thick and fast, to say nothing of red herrings to throw you off as well. Trust me when I say, writing events before they're supposed to chronologically occur is a definite headache. Yep, timetravel will happen... eventually. Also, about half of this chapter didn't even exist a week ago. The other part of the delay has been with life proper. Work and studies have been keeping me busy as is... lately I've had to look after puppies as well. I don't think I need to mention just how distracting puppies can be.
One important change that occurs in this chapter that I'd like to put a foreword on is the usage of Japanese honorifics. I'm still not 100% confident with their usage but it's a change from prior chapters that didn't use them. It's a narrative cue that the TARDIS isn't translating anymore. Once the TARDIS comes back into the picture again the honorifics will be dropped again in favour of the TARDIS translation.
Anyway, long chapter is looooooong. I'll stop rambling and let you enjoy it.
The Doctor swallowed nervously. He'd heard grand ultimatums from Empires that could have crushed the Universe with a thought and threats from the darkest terrors. Not a single one of them had succeeded in making the least bit nervous.
Until now.
"What?" said the Doctor apprehensively.
"You will speak Japanese in my presence," said Miya tersely, pressing the sword against his throat ever so slightly.
The Doctor swallowed. He had been speaking Japanese… hadn't he? With a start he realised that the TARDIS wasn't translating for him anymore. He'd blurted out 'What' in Gallifreyan, a tongue that no one on Earth had ever heard.
"Sorry," he croaked switching to Japanese, "Um… what happened? How did I get here?"
Miya gave him a withering glance. She didn't appreciate the detour in conversation but accepted that her 'guest' might be somewhat disoriented on waking.
"Akitsu brought you here after you were injured. You are safe as long as you answer my questions," she hefted one of the Sonic Screwdrivers in her free hand and indicated the one she'd tossed, "Explain."
The Doctor looked at the Screwdriver sitting on the blanket covering his lap then back to the one held by his… host. Both were Sonic Screwdrivers of the same make and type that he favoured in his every day jaunts across the universe. Both were identical in every way he could ascertain.
"I'm sorry… what?" said the Doctor as, not entirely awake, he fumbled to see what it was exactly that his host wanted explained.
"This was found amongst my husband's personal effects after he died. He liked to collect odd things that caught his eye at times… but I've never seen anything quite like this. That," she indicated the other Screwdriver, "I found on you. Where did you get it? Did you know who my husband is? Is he… still alive?"
Though her voice had been as resolute as iron there was the tiniest of tremors towards the end… a hint of desperation, the tone of someone whom had lost someone irreplaceable.
"Miya-san, may I call you Miya-san?" asked the Doctor, hoping he was getting the honorifics correct.
"You will address me as Landlady-sama," she tensed.
"Landlady-sama… what was your husband's name?" asked the Doctor.
"Takehito Asama," responded Miya.
The Doctor thought. He churned through nine hundred years of memory searching for the name but couldn't recall ever having come across it. It could only have been the name of someone he hadn't met yet. Then again he could also have been one of the countless people he'd met but had never learned the name of… a bad habit he avoided as best he could.
"I'm sorry, Landlady-sama, I'm afraid I never knew your husband," said the Doctor carefully.
"But why do you have this?" asked Miya, "Why do you have something that my husband had… that nobody else I know has?"
"Landlady-sama… could I… take a look at that?" he asked hesitantly.
Miya scowled at him as though he'd grown a second head and that second head were spouting obscenities in French. Carefully, slowly, deliberately, she handed him her Screwdriver.
The Doctor held both Screwdrivers carefully, hefting them to check their weight, eying them carefully despite the sword still pointed at his throat. He then carefully brought the two devices together.
ZAP!
Miya didn't flinch. Instead she cast another of her withering glares at the Doctor.
"Ah, I see," said the Doctor.
"See what?" asked Miya tersely.
"It's complicated," said the Doctor.
"Explain," said Miya with rapidly fading patience.
"You'd never believe me," he insisted.
Miya glared at him by way of response.
"This Screwdriver," said the Doctor, holding up the Screwdriver in his right hand, "and this Screwdriver," he continued, indicating the one in his left hand, "are the same item. This one," he held up the one in his right hand, "is from the present, the one you found on me, and this one," he raised the one in his left hand, "the one you gave me, is from the future. Well, not really the 'future' future but it's own personal future which is actually in the past, but not its past, rather our past which has now become our present."
"What." Said Miya flatly.
The Doctor considered his answer carefully.
"At some point in the future, this screwdriver," he indicated the one in his right hand, "travels back in time and becomes this one," he indicated the one in his left, "and is found by your husband before his death," said the Doctor matter of factly.
"I never said my husband died," she snapped, "he went missing that day. They found his blood but they never found his body. As long as they never find that he's still alive."
The Doctor gave a slight nod in assent to vehemence in her statement. He'd lived long enough to know the sound of someone who hadn't given up hope that a loved one would make it home no matter what common sense would have to say about the subject.
Calming herself, Miya finally took a moment to consider the full impact of the Doctor's explanation.
"But you're right. I don't believe you," said Miya, "You speak as though one can travel through time as easily as passing through a doorway."
The Doctor met Miya's gaze. He was convinced. Absolutely convinced that she wasn't human. No human was… this made of iron. No… iron was the wrong word. Iron was inflexible, unfeeling, cold… while this woman was definitely all those things she was certainly more. The only simile that came to mind that was even close was 'the velvet glove in the iron claw'. There was only one species in all of time and space that had that… 'smell', smell being the best term for that Time Lord sense that could differentiate species. She wasn't quite Sekirei, that much was certain, but she was definitively not human.
But how was he to answer her? He knew that playing stupid was useless. She'd see right through that particular façade and he'd ruined any chance of getting information out of her after showing just how clever he was. That left the truth as the only option, the wonderful thing being that the truth was so unbelievable to most people that they often defaulted to considering him insane.
"That's because one can travel through time. Perhaps not as easily passing through a doorway but…" the Doctor trailed off as he noticed Miya was not interested in that train of thought.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"My name is the Doctor,"
"Doctor is not a name," she stated tersely.
"Oi! It's a perfectly good name!" retorted the Doctor.
"Very well then. Doctor who?"
"Just… the Doctor…"
"The Doctor?" she asked sceptically.
"Yep," he confirmed.
"It's quite rude not to tell others your name and insist they refer to you only by your title,"
The Doctor was gobsmacked. Most people just accepted he wanted to be called Doctor and left it at that. Miya was a completely different beast altogether.
"My title is actually 'Lord Doctor'," he snarked.
Silence echoed between the two for an infinite moment as the two sized each other up. The moment of tension broke as Miya cracked a smile and sheathed her sword.
"Very well then, Doctor-san," said Miya sweetly, "I imagine you're quite thirsty after so long without water. You may get dressed while I make us some tea. While we drink that… you'd best tell me everything you know about time travel and find a way to pay the rent for the last three days."
The Doctor's mind irrationally latched onto the 'get dressed' part of her sentence and disregarded most of the rest as an afterthought.
"…What?" exclaimed the Doctor realising that he was naked underneath the futon, "…wait… when did I… did you?"
"You have nothing I haven't seen before," said Miya with a sweet smile before turning serious once again, "Except for the matter of having two heartbeats…"
The Doctor gaped.
"How…?" he trailed off as she held up a stethoscope that had undoubtedly come from the bigger-on-the-inside pockets of his pants.
Oh she's good, thought the Doctor, Too good.
Takami gulped down her espresso rapidly before choking off the last gulp. She hated espresso. She hated the taste of it, hated the texture of it, hated the smell and she especially hated the price of it. There was just one thing and one thing alone that she liked about it. Caffeine. She preferred espresso over coffee simply for the fact that, the way she brewed it, she could get more caffeine per cup than straight coffee and most energy drinks. She considered having a cigarette with her third cup but thought better of it. The less she smoked today of all days the better.
This was it. This was the day her well laid plans were going to come to fruition. Her relatively indolent resistance cells would spring into action today. From Okinawa to Sapporo, to MBI holdings as far away as Los Angeles and London, Johannesburg and Sydney, her people would move to wrest control of the multi-national company away from Minaka and his lapdogs, all with the end of placing herself in charge… until she could find someone sane and responsible enough to run the company so she could get back to doing real science again.
The sharp knock on the front door threw her from her thoughts. She checked her watch… it was before eight in the morning… the company car wouldn't be here to pick her up unless…
Nervous that her operation had been foiled at the last second, she checked who was there through the peep hole. A westerner stood there in a clean pressed business suit, not horribly out of place in the middle of Tokyo… but it wasn't anyone she knew.
She drew the door open but kept it on the latch. While the inner city Tokyo apartments owned by MBI for VIP's within the company were quite secure she wasn't taking any chances she didn't have to take.
"Takami Sahashi-san I presume?" he asked through the opening. His Japanese wasn't perfect and his accent was unmistakably British.
She nodded once and found rather quickly the man had rudely jammed his foot in the door.
"I'll be brief," he said curtly, "We know what you're planning. We know what you're doing. We have no plans to interfere… on the provision that you'll give us a receptive ear once you're in charge."
"What… who… I have no idea what you're talking about!" snapped Takami.
Idiot! You may as well confess with a denial like that! She cursed mentally.
"A few of your people were caught mouthing off in a London pub. Given the time, money and resources MBI has expended to keep us out of Japan and away from MBI holdings my… superiors couldn't pass up such an opportunity. We've plugged your leak and it'll stay that way as long as we're happy."
Takami dropped the act and changed her tactics. He knew. He knew that she knew. He knew that she knew that he knew. He knew that she knew that he knew that her playing dumb was a useless gesture and so did she.
"I don't respond well to blackmail," she said darkly and held her tongue from saying too much more, lest she let something slip into a hidden recorder that could be construed as incriminating.
"You've nothing to fear from us. Believe it or not… we're the good guys," he said as though it mattered.
"Everyone is the hero of their own story, gaijin," she said, emphasising the word 'foreigner' as strongly as she could.
The stranger simply smiled as though he took the word as a mark of pride.
"Perhaps," he countered, "But for now your little movement and my organisation are not enemies. Consider our silence as a down payment on future relations, should your faction become the controlling one within MBI."
He turned to leave and had almost taken his foot out of the door before he jammed it back in, remembering something at the last moment.
"One last thing," he said, "we have an… independent operative in the area. You'll know when you see him. We have a simple message, one I'm sure you can pass to him on our behalf,"
"I am not your messenger," hissed Takami, her patience with the stranger having long since evaporated.
The stranger cocked another irritating smile.
"Tell him the Brigadier sends his regards,"
Minaka blinked. He rubbed his eyes. Then he blinked again.
I'm hallucinating, he thought, I've been up all night in one of my manic creative upswings and I've just completely lost all perspective. Again.
He did a complete lap around the blue box and then stuck his head in. Then he walked into the dimly lit… room. A room in a box. A room in a box in a lab. In a building.
Then Minaka positively lost it. He threw his hands up in the air and cried out in triumph. He jumped up and down ecstatically and tore out of the box to return moments later with lighting equipment in tow. He hadn't been this excited… this alive since the discovery of the Sekirei ship on Kamikura Island all those years ago…
The room was amazing. It had a central column surrounded by a control interface of some sort. Metal grating covered the floor immediately around it, followed by something more solid nearer the entrance. Further out lay passageways that he suspected lead off to other rooms.
Common sense said that this entire phenomenon was impossible. Minaka had long since thrown common sense to the wind. This was amazing. It was phenomenal. He could only begin to imagine the practical applications of fitting room-sized spaces into phone-box sized proportions. Cargo and shipping would be revolutionised forever… spaceflight alone would derive enormous benefits to say nothing of organisations that would adore the easily portable nature of pocket universes.
Even if he couldn't replicate the technology that forged the universe in a bottle that was the blue box the fact that there were all sorts of interesting and unusual objects within was already a massive boon. He didn't recognise half of what was inside and to Minaka that meant something new, something he could find use for, something that would make his hair stand on end in excitement.
"You! All of you!" he shouted to his assistants outside, "Get in here and start setting up the lighting equipment! Get me more people! We need to do a proper survey of the interior!"
His assistants gaped at him as though he was mad but he knew better. If they refused to obey his orders he could easily find new assistants. The more diligent ones were already hard at work dragging in wiring and lighting equipment, readying the main chamber as a base of operations for further exploration of the interior.
Despite his excitement Minaka also felt caution was necessary. Anyone who owned such a thing as this blue box would have to be a cunning individual... and certainly not human. He'd heard of theoretical papers from MIT about spatial re-engineering but nothing that even began to match the scale, the majesty and the inconceivability that was the blue box.
Whoever this Doctor was, Minaka's internal alarm bells were ringing at full volume now. He'd need to find out more about the Doctor. Fast.
The Doctor practically inhaled Miya's tea. Every cup left him wanting more. Whether it was from a desperate need for tea, the sheer exquisiteness of how it had been brewed or plain dehydration the Doctor didn't know for certain. All he knew was that he wanted more, and Miya was happy enough to oblige him, for now.
"And that," said the Doctor nonchalantly as he sipped his umpteenth cup of tea, "Is how time travel works!"
Miya shot him a glance as he fidgeted in the clothes she'd provided for him. He'd have much preferred to be wearing his usual attire instead of the loose fitting jeans and all too-tight top.
"Your explanation made no sense at all," said Miya with an amused smile.
"What? That was the children's version of how it works! Anyone can understand that!"
"And you still haven't figured out a way to repay me for the rent you owe me for yourself and Akitsu," said Miya, changing the subject.
The Doctor choked briefly on his tea.
"I… uh… well… if you'd let me pop off to the ATM I could pull some money out?" he said, stumbling over his own words.
Miya leaned in close and whispered softly, "Aliens do not have bank accounts. You'll not commit any crimes while you're under this roof."
"Then… how am I…" the Doctor trailed off as he realised his 'payment' had been worked out in advance.
"You can help me prepare breakfast," said Miya, "after that there are some parts of the house which need cleaning. A nice tall man like you can easily reach places I can't."
"I… you want… you want me doing housework?" asked the Doctor incredulously.
He, whom had saved the universe countless times, he, whom had saved lives, worlds and civilisations, he, whom had managed to set fire to Dalek empires using nothing more than paperclips and string. The Doctor, The Oncoming Storm, saviour of the Universe… was being reduced to housework?
"Those who do not help also do not eat," she said tersely.
The Doctor's stomach cast its vote audibly and with a start realised he was ravenous. He squirmed in his seat trying to find a way out of this situation. He could slink off, take his screwdriver with him and go his own way easily enough… but the fact that there were Sekirei in Tokyo and that there was some kind of exploitation of them compelled him to stay. Slavery and exploitation sat badly with him at the best of times.
Miya rose to start cooking breakfast followed closely by the Doctor. She'd just started cooking the rice when a newcomer stumbled sleepily into the kitchen.
"Landlady-dono, is breakfast ready yet?" asked Uzume as she rubbed her eyes.
"It would be ready sooner if you'd help," said Miya sweetly.
Uzume gave Miya a baleful look before casting a bleak and empty look towards the Doctor.
Absolutely, positively, NOT a morning person, thought the Doctor.
"Good morning! My names the Doctor and you are?"
"Oh. You're awake," said Uzume dully, still not fully awake.
WHACK!
"Ow! Landlady-dono! What was that for!" exclaimed Uzume, rubbing the back of her head where Miya's ladle had firmly connected.
"Being impolite towards guests will not be tolerated!" she said cheerfully, brandishing the ladle as though it could serve as a weapon equally as well as a cooking implement.
"Oh," said Uzume, trying to chase away the cobwebs of sleep that still cluttered her mind, "My name is Uzume. You said you were a Doctor? Doctor who?"
"Uh, just, the Doctor, thanks," said the Doctor.
"Doctor-san? What kind of a name is that?" asked Uzume.
WHACK!
"Ow!" cringed Uzume.
"Oh my, how the young forget their manners!" said Miya sweetly before levelling a death glare at Uzume, "Apologise."
"S-Sorry!" Uzume stammered without delay.
"Quite alright," said the Doctor.
A moment of awkward silence ensued between the three of them before a thump and a commotion occurred upstairs.
"Ah, it seems that Minato-san is awake," said Miya as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a rather large butcher's knife, "You two can handle breakfast while I go make sure nothing improper is occurring."
The Doctor blinked as he heard her giggle to herself. Clearly she enjoyed intimidating people in her house a little too much.
"Breakfast," offered Uzume and attended to the pots.
The two worked on breakfast for Izumo House. Uzume lead the Doctor in the preparation, knowing how much to prepare for all the tenants that would be dining soon.
"So," said the Doctor, "How is she?"
"How is who?" asked Uzume as she concentrated on her cooking.
"Your ashikabi," he said.
"You… you know I'm…?"
"A Sekirei? With the way you smell you may as well be wearing a T-shirt saying 'Sekirei' on it," he said with a smile, "so how is she?"
"I… uh… she's fine, just not here at the moment,"
"Don't lie to me, Uzume-san, I know a strained empathic connection when I see one and your one is strained enough as it is."
"…what?" asked Uzume. It was entirely too early in the morning for her to put up with weirdness of this calibre.
"She's sick, isn't she?" he said in a low voice so nobody else could hear.
"I…" she started but stopped short before nodding guiltily.
She'd kept the fact that her ashikabi was sick from everyone else for so long… it was difficult admitting it to another person so openly, even if they had deduced it.
She noticed the Doctor sniffing as though he could smell something wrong. With a start Uzume turned to the breakfast they'd been preparing with alarm… to find nothing wrong.
"What are you sniffing at?" she asked.
"What? Oh, nothing," he said, "Listen, after breakfast, I may be able to help,"
"Help? Help how?" asked Uzume.
"…I'm the Doctor!" he said cheerfully before turning back to the pots and pans.
Musubi was the first one down the stairs. The smell of food had become all too much for her to resist with the fierce growling of her stomach driving her ever onward and into the living room.
She wasn't disappointed. The table was laden with breakfast. Miya sat at the head next to a strange man and Uzume sat opposite of him. All of them were talking quietly while waiting for the others.
"The food! It smells so good!" exclaimed Musubi.
The Doctor jumped at the sound of her voice in genuine surprise before a flicker of recognition crossed his face.
"Oh hello there!" he said genially, "My name's the Doctor! What's your name? Have we met before by any chance?"
Musubi looked at him but couldn't place him in her memories. She'd seen many scientists and doctors during her time in MBI before the Sekirei were released into Tokyo.
"I'm Musubi!" she announced happily, "I'm sorry but I don't think I've ever seen you before. You're Akitsu's ashikabi, aren't you?"
"Oh… um… errr…" said the Doctor uncomfortably.
The awkward moment was mercifully broken up by the arrival of Tsukiumi and Kusano also having been lured by the glorious smell of food.
"This… This isn't breakfast!" exclaimed Tsukiumi in surprise.
"It's a feast!" exclaimed Kusano before diving to her spot and launching her way into the food with zest and vigour, "Let's eat!"
As everyone started eating the Doctor noticed several empty spots, as well as the blonde Tsukiumi alternating her glare towards him when she thought he wasn't looking and upstairs otherwise. Between mouthfuls of delicious food he glanced at Musubi and tried to place her with the person he'd seen in his dream. She was the spitting image of Yume physically. Her demeanour though was that of a completely different person. Still… there was something eerily familiar about her, as though an echo of Yume resided within Musubi somehow.
It was as Tsukiumi was regarding him with another of her covert withering looks that the door to the living room slid open to reveal Akitsu.
"Doctor…" she trailed before hurling herself at him.
The Doctor barely had time to put his chopsticks down before she bowled into him, hugging him fiercely, crushing him into her breasts which he only just now noticed were quite capable of choking off his air supply with ease.
"Air!" he choked, "Need air!"
WHACK!
"Guests attempting to murder other guests will not be permitted to remain in Izumo house! Even if their choice of weapons is unusual" said Miya and nodded towards Akitsu's chest.
With reluctance Akitsu managed to loosen her death grip on the Doctor, allowing him a measure of oxygen.
The Doctor was surprised at her reaction. Everything he had seen of Akitsu thus far had suggested a persona that was either devoid of emotions or had them severely repressed. Her face betrayed not a hint of that emotion except for an inappropriate melancholy… he'd have hated to play poker against her. Her body language however… the fierceness of her hug, the way she'd pressed herself into him had spoken volumes of her concern for him.
WHACK!
"Ow! What was that for!" exclaimed the Doctor, rubbing his head where the wooden spoon had caved in his skull.
"You enjoyed that, and you were staring where you shouldn't have been for far too long," she said sweetly with a smile.
"What? I… I…" the Doctor struggled but found he had no defence that wouldn't have damaged Akitsu's self esteem.
He was guilty as charged.
"WHERE. IS. MINAKA!" shouted Takami at yet another of his useless assistants.
"I-I-In t-t-there!" cowered the assistant in perfectly justified terror, indicating the blue box.
With a snarl Takami stalked towards the blue box and kicked the door in with rage. She didn't miss a beat as she stormed inside, not caring in the slightest that it was larger on the inside, paying no heed to the flotilla of floodlights and lab assistants trying to make head or tails of the control interfaces and not even bothering to slow down as her quarry came into view capering and dancing with a joy she'd not seen for twenty years.
Older, wiser assistants knew what was coming and took cover, hiding behind panels, railings, or otherwise getting to a minimum safe distance and preferably a good deal further. There were few things as legendary within MBI as Minaka's madness, and that was Takami's rage when she had been denied her cigarettes.
"IDIOT!" she roared, bringing a clipboard down on his head hard enough to make a satisfying cracking sound.
"Ow! Takami-kun! Are you trying to quit smoking again?"
"SHUT UP!" she shouted and brought the clip board down on him again.
"Argh! What's this about!" he flailed as he tried to dodge being beaten to death with the clip board.
"What's this about?" she said quietly in a way that sent the experienced lab assistants fleeing abject terror, "What's this ABOUT!"
She didn't even bother to hit him with the clip board. She threw it at him, forcing him to dodge, then closed the distance and tried to throttle him.
"Using that Jinki the way you did! That's what this is about! Do you have any idea what could have happened? Are you even barely aware of the size and scope of the powers you're dealing with?"
"Takami-kun! I factored in everything! The possibility of a catastrophic failure was-"
"WAS NOT NEGLIGIBLE YOU DOLT!" she snapped and backhanded him across the face before taking several deep breaths to try and compose herself.
"But look at this place! The rewards justified the risks!" he exclaimed.
"Minaka. If anything had gone wrong with that Jinki it could have terminated all the Sekirei at best. Do you know how disastrously wrong things could have gone?"
"But they didn't!" he insisted.
She slapped him again without remorse.
"Seven point six billion," she said flatly.
"Seven point six billion what?" he asked.
She slapped him again.
"That's how many lives you could have killed you idiot!" she shouted.
"But Takami-kun! I'm trying to save lives, the Sekirei Plan-"
"Oh not this again!" she said putting her palm to her face.
"Takami!"
"No! Shut up! I've had enough of your visions, your metal spheres and saving the world with the Sekirei Plan. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" she shouted in frustration.
A moment of dreadful silence hung in the air while the two stared each other down. Frightened lab assistants dared not breathe lest the inaudible sound trigger a catastrophic reaction in the tense atmosphere.
"Are you finished?" said Minaka coldly.
"You had plans for today," said Takami bitterly, "Unless you intend to postpone phase two until a time of your choosing."
"For someone who's been against this plan from the very start, Takami-kun, you have an odd way of keeping it on track."
Despite the fury boiling within her Takami considered her next words carefully. She had to keep her true motives covert until the moment was right.
"I am against this Minaka, yes. But many Sekirei are not. They would fight in your plan because they truly desire to and because they want to meet their fated. I'm helping you because it's what they want. Besides," she said, trying to lighten the mood a little bit, "you're surrounded by sycophants and yes men like these cowards," she gestured towards the lab assistants who were keeping to a safe distance on the opposite end of the main chamber, "Someone has to stand by you and put you in your place every now and then. If not me, then who?"
"Is that so?" he said noncommittally before regarding her with a wry grin, "Ah Takami-kun, this reminds me why I fell in love with you in the first place."
"And incidents like this remind me of why we broke up," she countered expertly.
"True," he admitted, "Even so, Takami-kun, you're the only one who could say no to me. No matter how rich or how powerful I became, only you ever had the gall, the guts, the gusto to say no to the all powerful director of MBI."
"I'm honoured," she said sarcastically.
"No, Takami, I mean it," he said in a rare moment of complete and total honesty untainted by his ego, "Of all the idiots on the board, all the suck up lab assistants… you're the only one I trust completely."
He laid a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. Takami didn't know what to say to him. She didn't trust herself to speak without betraying herself and simply nodded towards him.
Minaka nodded in acceptance. This fight had been much like their relationship, mercurial, unpredictable and rapidly shifting. They'd spent as much time fighting as they had loving each other. They'd been happy once… happy to commit to an endless cycle of fighting, breaking up, making up and loving, again and again and again. Their children had changed the dynamics of that relationship. She'd wanted them to have a stable home, something she and Minaka couldn't give them together.
Though they'd worked together, the subsequent years apart had made them more friends than lovers. Minaka's strange visions and insanity as well as Takehito's death had driven a wedge between them. For the first time in all those intervening years she felt as though the gulf between them had closed a little… all it had taken was for that idiot to endanger the entire human race to do it.
"Alright! Pack it in for now!" shouted Minaka, "Recall the survey teams and tell Yasuyo's team to get out of that hot spring they found!"
Takami did a double take.
"They found a hot spring in this thing?" she exclaimed.
Karasuba sat at the edge of the balcony of the penthouse suite situated at the top of MBI tower enjoying a cup of green tea. The abode of the Discipline squad and its resident Ashikabi, Natsuo, was a lavish affair. Even so, Karasuba preferred few if any comforts beyond those that kept her as sharp as her swords.
"When is Natsuo-kun coming back from that meeting? He promised to have breakfast with us," complained Benitsubasa.
"Perhaps he got distracted by a secretaries'… assets…" giggled Haihane.
The stealth jab at Benitsubasa's lack of a developed chest hit the bull's eye.
"Th-That's not possible! Natsuo-kun loves me!" she shouted, her face reddening with embarrassment as the stealth insult struck the right nerve.
"Of course he does," said Haihane placatingly, "but he loves me more."
Karasuba rolled her eyes as the two launched into the same, tired, old and exhausted argument. There was a western expression for it… something about beating a horses corpse into the ground… she never had managed to get an accurate translation but it felt apt.
In her eyes they were nothing more than fools, blind, deluded fools. She was as above them as they were above the billions of idiots that populated the Earth. The way she saw it, there were two kinds of Sekirei, those that were slaves unto their Ashikabi's desires after winging and those that had the will to realise their own fate. All Sekirei fell into one category or the other and she classified herself as one of the latter. The junior members of the Discipline squad fell firmly into the former.
Natsuo didn't love them. He couldn't love them. He would never love them. The part of him that could love had died along with his lover, long ago. Now there was only a deep black hole of seething contempt for the world… a contempt that Karasuba shared. Though all members of the Discipline squad held a connection with Natsuo, Benitsubasa and Haihane shared only his surface feelings and thoughts. Natsuo liked Benitsubasa and Haihane as people, enjoyed their company, even had fun with them on occasion, but that was all.
Karasuba enjoyed a much deeper, more succinct relationship with her ashikabi. Even before her winging Karasuba had wanted to see the world burn to the ground before her. It had been her deepest desire for the longest time; the desire came as naturally to her as the desire for oxygen did for anyone else. Natsuo had shared such feelings… the pit of darkness that dwelled in his heart had long since ate away at any true sentimentality towards the world. That was the only reason she'd allowed herself to be winged by him… their desires had been coterminous. Natsuo was merely an instrument that allowed Karasuba to wield greater destructive power. Karasuba was Natsuo's instrument to see the world burn. They used each other and both knew it… and accepted what they were.
Natsuo glided in confidently, interrupting her thoughts and the squabbling junior members.
"Our contacts in UNIT have finally come through for us," he said magnanimously.
"Oh?" said Karasuba, "and how much bribery did it take this time?"
Natsuo cracked a false smile. Happy on the outside, still pining for his lost lover on the inside. If the façade were any more perfect she could have framed it.
"Not as much as you might think," he retorted, holding up a red folder, "They've provided us with information on our little fugitive, as well as information regarding a few of their agents that managed to slip through our security,"
He placed the folder down, opening it up to reveal documents, pictures, files upon files.
It was the photo's that held Karasuba's interest. She'd had her suspicions from the low quality CCTV footage caught at odd angles of the mystery man. The UNIT files however were high definition, crisp, and in colour.
"So… we meet again. Doctor," she whispered to herself.
"You said you could help my ashikabi," said Uzume as she passed yet another of the strange requests the Doctor was making.
The question unfortunately gained Akitsu's attention. Though she didn't turn away from doing the dishes to look at them Uzume could feel Akitsu's disapproving glare bore right round the Earth and slam back into her.
"I am helping!" claimed the Doctor.
"You call this helping?" she asked, trying to ignore the apparently jealous Akitsu's loud shuffling of the plates.
"Well, look at it this way. Good medicine is finding the right treatment for the right condition. All biology is basically chemistry. All medicine is finding the right catalyst to get the desired chemical reaction from the body's biology… and cooking," he said as he dumped a metric ton of soy sauce into the already over-boiled rice, "is basically another form of chemistry."
"That was a waste of a perfectly bad explanation," she said sarcastically.
The Doctor huffed and tried to find a simpler way of summing things up for her. Even after breakfast it seemed Uzume was not a morning person.
"Life is chemistry, medicine is chemistry, cooking is chemistry," he said, "Ergo, I am making medicine through the chemical process of cooking. Could you pass me the smoked cheese?"
She passed him the cheese, which he nonchalantly threw into the pot and stirred like mad as it melted. He'd already thrown in rice, carrots, potatoes, soy sauce, vinegar, honey, cheese, onions, three cups of tea, several prawns that Miya would in all likelihood miss in preparing dinner later tonight, a pound of sugar, a fistful of butter and a vile black substance he'd made her fetch from his coat called 'something-ite'… she hadn't quite caught what exactly the name of it was. She only knew of a substance like it from reality dare shows where they made people try to stomach the taste of it for money only to watch them fail horribly.
Whatever 'medicine' it was the Doctor was cooking it looked as likely to kill someone as it was to turn their stomach permanently off food. Right before it shrivelled up. Followed by exploding.
"Almost done!" he said, scooping up enough to fill a bowl before throwing it nonchalantly into the freezer.
"What's that supposed to accomplish?" asked Uzume.
"Hold on," said the Doctor before retrieving it after fully five seconds in sub-zero temperatures.
Strangely the bizarre concoction was rock solid… as though it had been in the freezer for hours rather than seconds. The part of Uzume's mind that was both awake and sane, realising that such a thing was utterly, utterly impossible decided it was time to book a holiday to a nice safe location. Like Botswana.
"And now the final stage," he said, tossing the bowl into the microwave, setting it on 'High' and then inputting a ludicrously large number on the timer.
"Now," said the Doctor, "Once that's done you'll have about an hour or two to get it to your Ashikabi."
"Or else?" she asked, too inured to being used to be gracious.
"Or else the universal anti-viral mixture will go bad and that lot of goop will become just plain useless goop. Goop. Goop. That's a word I hardly ever use. Goop. It sounds exactly like what it's describing. Goop. Goooop. Goop," he said, veering off tangentially.
"Universal anti-what now?" asked Uzume.
"Your ashikabi is sick with a virus. A universal anti-viral is an anti-viral that will kill any and all viruses it comes into contact with. All she has to do is ingest enough and she won't have to worry about that pesky virus of hers… ever again really," said the Doctor.
Uzume stared at this madman. She studied his face, bored her gaze into his eyes and tried to read his body language as best she could, searching for some trace of disingenuousness, some hint of falsehood or even a clue that he was using her somehow. She was so inured to being used… as a pawn in Minaka's Sekirei plan and as Higa's unwilling henchman.
She found none. He wasn't lying, as far as she could tell he honestly believed what he'd just told her. That made him either mad or a genius… or both. All Sekirei had met Minaka at one point or another. The Chairman of MBI had had a personal hand in most Sekirei's lives at some point… she knew what insanity and genius looked like… and the Doctor seemed to share those traits with him. They both had genius and madness in equal measure.
"How do I know this will work?" Uzume asked, "How do I know that this stuff won't kill my ashikabi?"
"Because if it doesn't work, she'll kill me," said the Doctor, pointing towards Miya.
"Oh my, someone's been making a mess in the kitchen," said Miya before regarding the Doctor, "I wonder who's going to clean up all this mess, hmmm?"
Uzume let off a nervous laugh. Miya was her usual scary self. Right down to threatening people into doing the right thing… and the Doctor was right; he would never survive tricking her into poisoning her ashikabi or feeding her false hope. Miya wouldn't allow it.
"I'll clean up the mess," offered Uzume before glancing at the timer on the microwave, estimating she'd have just enough time.
"Ah, that settles it then, you will be cleaning up in the roof, Doctor-kun," said Miya sweetly.
"The what?" asked the Doctor.
"The roof," said Miya, handing him a dustpan and a brush, "There are many cobwebs and spiders up there. I hope you don't mind doing this as part of your ongoing efforts to repay me properly for my hospitality," she said with a devious lilt.
"Oh no. Not at all," said the Doctor, trying his best to keep his complete and total lack of enthusiasm out of his voice.
"Excellent, then I can go do the shopping and restock what a certain tenant has greedily used, hmm?" she said before heading off.
The Doctor set off to bravely confront cobwebs, spiders and the worst enemy of all… dust. It irritated him to think just how easily Miya was manipulating him into doing menial chores. His instincts were screaming at him to get out there, to go straight to the source of this mess and fix it before hopping back into his TARDIS, which was still worryingly under lockdown, and jauntily taking off to somewhere interesting and new.
But something was compelling him to stay. Something important. Something serious. Something… he tried to put his finger on it. Tried to get a fix on whatever it was that was bothering him. It was close. Very close. Very very close. So close that he could probably reach out and touch it. Somewhere… above him. He started towards the stairs.
"Hmph!" snorted an irritated looking Tsukiumi before turning her back on the Doctor.
"Excuse me, Tsukiumi-san was it?" asked the Doctor, "Have I done something to offend you?"
Tsukiumi stopped in the middle of the hall.
"What makes you say that?" she asked irritably, not bothering to turn around.
"Well, at breakfast… you kept looking at me like I'd run over your cat," he said, getting straight to the point.
She turned her head to regard him with a cold calculated anger.
"Are you an idiot?" she asked witheringly.
"What?" asked the Doctor.
"Nevermind, it seems that you are," she said icily, "You want to know why I don't like you. Very well. It's the way you treat Akitsu-san,"
"The way I what?" he said, utterly perplexed.
"It's the way you treat her!" she snapped, "The way she looks at you, the way she acts… what she did for you when you couldn't fight for yourself! I might not have been here long but I know she loves you, even if she can't show it. But you… you act as though you're just dumping her here for us to take care of her. Like you're here until Miya-sama lets you leave and then you're gone," she turned around fully now and stalked right up to him, jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest, "I don't like it. I don't like you and I don't like the way you can disregard her feelings like that. Is it because you can't wing her? Is it because you're a pathetic excuse for a human being?" she accused.
"I…" he struggled.
She was right. Partially. He had only intended to bring her somewhere safe, to someone that could look after her. He couldn't… he wouldn't take on another companion. Not after what happened to Rose… to Martha… and especially not after what had happened to Donna. Everyone that got close to him got burned in one way or another. He didn't want that to happen again. He didn't want to inflict himself in that way on another person… it wasn't fair, and it wasn't right.
"It's me," he admitted succinctly, "But it's not what you think."
"Oh, this should be good," gloated Tsukiumi with arms crossed.
"Anyone who gets close to me… they get hurt. And I try. I try so hard to protect them. To keep them safe from harm. The last person… her name was Donna…" he choked on her name, trying to compose himself, "I had to do something terrible to her to save her life. And it was my fault. It was all my fault. So now I travel alone. I can't… I can't let anyone else get hurt that way. She's better off if she stays as far away from me as possible from now on."
The Doctor didn't wait for a response. He wanted to put the conversation behind him as fast as possible and mindless menial chores sounded perfect right now. He took off and up the stairs, taking them three at a time to get away from Tsukiumi, leaving her standing in the hallway to ponder his words.
Minato sat in Matsu's room hoping she hadn't dragged him in here for the sake of her nefarious 'experiments'.
"Mina-tan, I wanted to talk to you about a few things before you go down for breakfast with the others," she said softly.
Minato nodded despite the grumbling of his belly. The smell of food was intoxicating even through the walls of Matsu's hidden room.
"I managed to do some further digging on our new guests," she started.
"Akitsu-san and the stranger?" queried Minato.
"Yes. MBI has been drawing from their international resources to garner information about the man downstairs. It seems an organisation called UNIT may know something about him, though I haven't had a chance to fully review their files," she said, "but that's not the most interesting thing I found,"
Minato wasn't so sure. An international man of mystery had muddled his way into the Sekirei Plan and had found his way into Izumo house, a man that, if he was even partially responsible for the smell of food tormenting him, was almost certainly an exceptional cook.
"What did you find?" he asked hoping to get Matsu's briefing out of the way so he could join the others.
"As you know, Akitsu is a scrap number, a Sekirei that couldn't be adjusted and so was locked out of the Sekirei Plan," she explained.
"Yes, go on," said Minato.
"It turns out that may not have been the case. Takehito-sama had scheduled her for an adjustment the night he vanished,"
"What?" asked Minato in surprise.
"It gets more interesting," she said, "On that night there were several low-priority security breeches, all over-ridden and cancelled by Takehito-sama. The only thing we know for certain is that his blood was found inside his lab and that Akitsu wasn't adjusted. It also seems that he had recorded several voice messages, all of which were unrecoverable by the investigators that looked into his death."
"Why is all this important now Matsu-san? Isn't this all ancient history?"
Matsu adjusted her glasses before continuing.
"It's been established that scrap numbers cannot be adjusted. So why had Takehito-sama scheduled Akitsu-san for an adjustment? The only explanation that makes sense is that he'd found a way."
Minato thought on that. It made sense. But then, why had he vanished? Was it kidnapping? Or perhaps murder?
"Is there anyone that might have wanted to stop him?" he asked, "Someone that wouldn't want the scrap numbers to be fully fledged Sekirei?"
It was Matsu's turn to look thoughtful.
"It's possible…" she trailed, "Adjusting a Sekirei is a complex process. There are tradeoffs, pitfalls and more than a few mistakes that can be made. A Sekirei can be made powerful at the cost of their mental stability, imbued with rich potential at the cost of cognitive functions, or even given subtle powers at the price of certain compunctions. These are just gross oversimplifications however; it's a vastly complicated process that involves the genes, the mind and the body all at once. If Takehito-sama had developed a new process that allowed previously un-adjustable Sekirei to be adjusted, it would entail a new insight or previously undiscovered knowledge about Sekirei. If that were the case, all Sekirei would have to go in for a re-adjustment to ensure that their full potential could be realised."
"Wait, wait," said Minato, trying to wade through the long explanation, "When they adjusted you… they changed your mind, your body and your genes?"
"Gene expression, specifically, the right genes expressed in the right way can have a large impact on ones physiological well being. The mental adjustment was also necessary for many Sekirei considering the powers we possess. Can you imagine the damage a powerful, mentally unstable Sekirei could inflict?" she said.
Minato chewed on that. He'd seen his Sekirei in a fight and he knew how powerful they were. It was frightening to think that any Sekirei could turn their power on regular humans. Though he was reluctant he could see the wisdom in ensuring that any Sekirei MBI let loose were, for the most part, mentally stable and at the very least not psychotic. As for the physical adjustments… well, Minato wasn't about to complain about that. Not at all.
"Perhaps we should leave the past for now, Mina-tan, there are important events happening right this moment," she said.
"Events? What's happening?" asked Minato.
"MBI has been redeploying soldiers throughout the city," she explained, "They've also increased surveillance of Ashikabi that currently possess Sekirei. There's already a team watching Izumo House. This means the second phase of the Sekirei Plan will be starting soon."
"Second phase?" asked Minato curiously.
"Thus far we've been in phase one. Unwinged Sekirei are released into the city to meet their fated ones," she glanced at Minato and blushed, making him feel somewhat uncomfortable but warm at the same time, "The second Phase occurs when most of the Sekirei have been winged. From there, the capital is sealed off and Tokyo becomes a battleground."
Minato mulled over that point. Tokyo was to become a battleground? He wondered how much damage would be done… how many lives would be lost…
"Matsu-san... is there any way we can…" he trailed off, unsure of how exactly he could finish that sentence, "It's just that… I don't want to see anyone hurt. If what you say is true-"
Minato was interrupted by a piece of the ceiling falling into the cramped room with a clatter. A mans head with a shock of hair popped down from the cavernous depths above.
"Then a lot of people are going to get hurt!" cried out the Doctor triumphantly, finishing Minato's sentence.
"Kyaaaaa!" wailed Matsu in shock.
"Was it something I said?" asked the Doctor.
"Where… Where the hell did you come from?" cried Minato.
"Landlady-sama asked me to clean the roof. Actually, she ordered me to clean the roof before heading out to do the shopping. Asking implies I was given a choice. Found some neat stuff up here though," he said, non-chalantly tossing a crystal onto Matsu's futon.
"How… How did you find this?" hissed Matsu as she cradled the Jinki, her voice somewhere between shock and despair.
"Oh it was between the third and fourth rafters underneath the insulation inside a safe with a time delayed combination lock, easy to find really. Now if you really wanted that hidden you really should have picked a better hiding place, somewhere nobody would look. Like underneath the cushions on the sofa," rambled the Doctor.
"Wait… that voice…" said Matsu before throwing herself to her computers.
The Doctor craned his neck to see where she was from his position in the roof and whistled.
"Oh very impressive! I'm not a big fan of computers myself but I know a setup capable of hacking the Pentagon when I see it!" he commended.
"Who are you?" asked Minato, refusing to believe that someone this crazy could possibly exist, "and what is that?" he pointed at the crystal.
"Oh I'm sorry I'm usually much quicker to introduce myself. My name's-"
"The Doctor," finished Matsu, looking at him with wide eyes.
"Oi! That's my line!" claimed the Doctor, "Wait… you know who I am?"
"I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN!" shouted Matsu loudly enough to be heard from Saturn before entering a fan girl meltdown.
"Oh god. Oh no. Oh god," groaned the Doctor.
Worse than Daleks, he thought, it's a fan!