Apologies for the delay in updating this. Thanks to Gengkotsuya for her help. Thanks to those who've sent in such encouraging feedback!
Lying across the sofa with limbs sprawled in wanton abandon, Tsuzuki didn't want to move. Post-orgasmic languor thrummed through his body. He felt the pleasure ebb away, leaving behind the dull ache of weary muscles.
Above him, Muraki lifted himself up, chest heaving, his hair dishevelled. He wiped the back of one hand across his mouth, then looked at his watch.
"Get dressed. We're late enough as it is." His gaze roamed over Tsuzuki's body before turning away.
"Late for what?" Tsuzuki lazily stretched his arms over his head. "I thought you did whatever you pleased, consequences be damned."
Muraki was already buttoning his shirt. "There is a time and place for everything. Now it's time to be punctual." He bent down to retrieve his tie and slung it around his collar. "If you're going to join me, you better get up."
"Fine." Tsuzuki closed his eyes and mentally recited a spell. In an instant, he was lounging on the sofa in a seated position. He wore his rumpled shirt, loose tie, trousers and trenchcoat. "All ready."
"I see." Muraki looked a little annoyed.
"One of the perks of being a shinigami. Would you like me to dress you too? No, wait." Tsuzuki's lips curved in a sly grin. "You got to watch me perform, remember? Now it's my turn to watch you. Or you could start using your own powers for a change. I think you're capable of more than you let on."
The cat scrambled into Tsuzuki's lap and rubbed its head against his chest. "Trruuuue..." it purred softly. "Trruuue."
It wasn't his imagination. The creature could talk. Or he now had the power to understand...
Tsuzuki gently scratched its neck. What was done was done. There was no turning back.
"You overestimate me...but I thank you for the praise." Muraki pulled up his trousers. "I have something I want you to wear tonight."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"
"We are visiting a special place. By dressing well, we demonstrate our reverence. I have something that will be perfect for you."
It was a charcoal grey morning coat, cut short at the front and flaring into a pair of tails at the back. It came with a silver grey waistcoat, and a pair of charcoal grey trousers with purple braces. A matching purple bow tie and a polished ebony cane completed the outfit.
Tsuzuki was amazed. "I...I'm not sure these are my size..."
"Do you doubt my powers already?" Muraki teased. "Keep your white shirt, but wear these in place of your work clothes."
"But why? They look...so formal. I'll look even more over-dressed than you!"
"As it should be. Indulge me a little."
The clothes were loose at first, but the seams began to tighten around his body, moulding the cloth to his physique. Tsuzuki looked down in wonder as the clothes shrunk down to create a perfect fit.
"Allow me." Muraki slid the tie around Tsuzuki's neck and began to do it up from behind. "Tailor-made clothes are the best, ne?"
"You've gone to a lot of trouble for me. It takes a special tailor to make clothes like this."
"Indeed it does." Muraki's lips quirked. "These were made by a former patient of mine. I performed a triple-bypass on him after he suffered a heart attack three years ago. He gave me this excellent example of his craftsmanship as a mark of his gratitude." He made a final adjustment to the ends, then stepped back to admire his work. "Perfect. As neat as a made-up tie without the cheap hooks and buckles."
"No ordinary tailor uses materials like this." Tsuzuki ran his fingers along the seam of his sleeve. The thread was imbued with magic - magic he'd encountered before. "Charmed woman's hair. The same thread you used to tie up Hisoka in the warehouse."
"Why, I'm flattered you remember. We met under such different circumstances that night. You were so cold to me--"
"What about the way you manipulated Hisoka and Maria Wong?"
Muraki dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "All in the past. Let's put those mistakes behind us." He picked up the cane, and tossed it in Tsuzuki's direction.
Tsuzuki caught it in one hand - a reflex action. "You were aiming at my head!"
Muraki shrugged into his white trenchcoat. "Did you notice? Your reflexes are faster now than they were on the Queen Camellia."
The cat rubbed itself against Tsuzuki's ankles. "Trrue. Trrrrruuue."
Tsuzuki put down the cane with a decisive stamp, scaring the cat into silence. "I still feel overdressed. I look like I'm about to attend a wedding."
Muraki seized his hand, eyes wide. "Tsuzuki-san! Is this a proposal? Have you decided to make an honest man of me at last?"
"No, you idiot! Stop twisting my words! You know what I meant!" Tsuzuki bowed his head, acutely embarrassed. "Actually, this outfit could also be worn for other formal occasions." His expression became grave. "Like a funeral. Maybe that's more appropriate for us."
"Many religious creeds affirm that death is merely a transition to a new beginning." Muraki's smile was lopsided as he put his arm around Tsuzuki's shoulders. "Maybe that's something we both need, ne?"
A sweet falsehood, nothing more. Tsuzuki knew the reality of the afterlife only too well.
When Muraki kissed him, Tsuzuki felt the pistol's metal beneath his jacket in place of a living heartbeat.
Dressed in such fine clothes, Tsuzuki half-expected to be taken to another exclusive restaurant. But to his surprise, Muraki drove east out of the city, past the scenic views of Tachibana Bay and towards the mountainous Shimabara Peninsula, a region famous for its active volcanoes and hot springs. The Ferrari hugged the curves of the coastal highways and steep mountain roads with equal ease, its engine growling as it surged to meet each challenge.
They stopped at a small temple perched on a hill with a sweeping view of the bay below. The setting sun cast pink streaks over the few clouds and tinged the sky gold.
Muraki fished out some coins and deposited them in the nearby wooden box.
Tsuzuki hung back. He recognised the writing over the plain wooden gateway. And there was no mistaking the cluster of six small Jizo Buddha statues standing guard, their sober monk's garb decorated with green blotches of moss and mildew.
Next to him, the cat stared at the entrance.
"Why are we here?"
"Is it considered demeaning for a shinigami to pay his respects to another deity?"
"No, of course not."
"Good. Then come in."
Together they followed the path of uneven steps into a large pebble-lined courtyard with rows of little stone Jizo statues. Candles and incense sticks were placed before each one. A few were surrounded by bouquets of flowers. Others had plastic toy pinwheels that spun in the breeze. All were dressed in bright red woollen bonnets and bibs.
The cat padded along the rows of statues, entranced. It tilted its head at one statue. Hesitantly it pawed at the woollen bib.
Muraki picked up an unlit candle and held the wick against the flame of another candle. When it failed to light, he tsked and pulled out his lighter. It spat sparks but refused to light.
"Last night I gave you one that worked," Tsuzuki reminded him. "But asking Suzaku to bless it was a mistake."
"A mere toy charmed by the Red Bird."
"Exposure to elemental Fire could have melted away your remaining energy reserves. If I'd known your dominant element was Metal, I wouldn't have endangered you like that." Tsuzuki withdrew an attack fuda from his breast pocket. With a flick of his fingers, it burst into flames. "Here."
Muraki dipped the wick into the flame. "Thank you." He held the lit candle in his hands, eyes shut. The flickering candlelight danced over his serene features.
Tsuzuki crushed the burning fuda in his bare hand. The balmy sea breeze made the tails of the coat sway and billow around his legs. So much for Muraki being a devout Christian. Then again, it was common for people to practise rituals from different religious traditions according to the time of year.
"Where there is light, there is hope," Muraki murmured. He placed the candle before the little statue. "Each flame here represents a life that might have been, ne? Mothers mourning their miscarried or aborted babies seek Jizo's protection. They hope he will help their child escape hell and find another way in the world." He cast his eye over the rows of candles approvingly. "Each is insignificant in isolation, but together these candles form a wondrous sight. Truly a vision to comfort the most distraught spirit."
It reminded Tsuzuki of Hakushaku's mansion, lit with the millions of candles representing human souls. Beautiful, yes...but more morbid than soothing. Seeing a human life reduced to a flickering flame made a mockery of human existence. But here, the flames were a prayer for another existence. These were flames of hope - hope of a longer life to come.
"Are you in need of comfort from the Saviour of Condemned Souls?"
Muraki turned a little, surprised. "What makes you say that?"
"Jizo is a merciful God who delivers souls from evil. Legends describe him battling underworld demons to protect the souls of condemned children. He's also the guardian of travellers - many roadside shrines in Japan like this are built in his honour." Tsuzuki tapped the tip of his cane into the pebbled ground. "Perhaps Jizo can succeed with you where I have failed. You should pray that he will enlighten you to the dangers of your covenant."
"I am not here to pray for my soul. I know of other souls far more deluded than mine." From behind the reflected candlelight in his glasses, Muraki's gaze was alight with amusement.
"Really?" Tsuzuki absently tapped the cane into the pebbled ground again. "Then...maybe you're here to pay your respects to a mizuko of your own. Do you have a lost child in your past?"
Muraki's upper lip curled. "Do you think me so reckless in my private life?"
"Ahh, Muraki." Tsuzuki chuckled in spite of himself. "You lead a reckless life, period."
"I have no mizuko." Muraki's voice was curt, vehement. "I have no children, living or dead. I have no interest in burdening a woman with unwanted offspring."
"How considerate of you." Tsuzuki tried to steer their conversation to a less grisly topic. "Of course, if you were to fall in love with a woman, and she with you, having a child would be a joyous event. A celebration of new life! Who wouldn't want to become a father under such circumstances?"
Muraki's lips were compressed in a grim line.
"Have...have you ever thought about having a family of your own? Wouldn't you like to settle down one day?" At Muraki's tense silence, Tsuzuki became serious. "So many people find a family gives their life meaning - it fills a void they never realised they had. Maybe it could do the same for you."
"I have no interest in becoming a parent. Parenthood is a thankless task only for the masochistic."
"What makes you say that?"
Muraki averted his gaze. "Did you know that the developing foetus is the most effective parasite known to medical science? Despite being composed of foreign tissue, it tricks the mother into supplying it with the nutrients it needs to thrive without activating the maternal immune system. After birth, the newborn resorts to clever body language to establish the bond essential for its survival - the mewling to be fed, the intense focused stare, the smiles of recognition and imitative babbling. Parental obligation becomes attachment soon enough, and with it, psychological transference." Muraki's upper lip curled. "Parents begin to see their children as extensions of themselves. They project their own stalled ambitions and dreams onto their offspring. They want their young to fulfil the goals they failed to reach."
Muraki's deep voice, edged with cynicism, held Tsuzuki enthralled.
"But they will not. In the end, all children become disappointments to their parents. In the same way they broke out of the womb, so children will trample and spit on the most carefully-laid plans. It is inevitable that children will come to reject the ones who brought them into being."
"You...you sound like you're speaking from experience."
"Mine, of course." He looked directly at Tsuzuki. "And yours."
Tsuzuki froze, rooted to the spot. "Wha...What?"
"This is our fate. Separation from one's parents is a necessary prelude to establishing one's individual identity."
"I see." For one horrible moment, he thought Muraki was referring to something else. "I didn't know."
Muraki turned his gaze back to the statues. "Most parents don't either. They watch their children transform into a younger version of their flawed selves and repeat the cycle of failure over again." He waved his hand over the row of statues. "Better to have your stone tower of hopes smashed in the dried riverbed of the Otherworld than to stumble on the treadmill of this merciless world. These unborn souls are the fortunate ones, Tsuzuki-san. They have been spared much misery."
Tsuzuki struggled to come up with a reply. He knew nothing about being a parent, and he hardly remembered his childhood. "I know you feel this way now...but that doesn't meant you won't change your mind in the future. I bet if you found a special woman--"
"Finding a woman is not the issue! I never want to be a father! Ever!"
The hostility took Tsuzuki by surprise. This defensiveness was at odds with the Muraki he knew.
"All right," he said gently. "I understand."
"Do you?" Muraki shot back. "Or are you projecting your own frustrated paternal urges onto me? Do you harbour fantasies for a child of your own?"
"Me? No way! I mean, I find children cute and I like being around them...but being a father is out of the question!"
His answer only incensed Muraki further. "Who told you that? Enma?"
Tsuzuki stepped back. "He doesn't have to! I already know a shinigami would make the worst possible parent - always away on assignment, never around to help raise a child, not even able to provide financial support. What kind of life would that be..." He stopped, appalled. His mother's words in that dream:
Thank you for bringing him into my life. Thank you for answering my prayers. May he be pleasing in your sight.
Muraki lowered his gaze, shoulders hunched. His silver hair fell over his eyes. "True. So true." His anger was gone, as if it had never been. "But it doesn't answer my question."
He looked pensive...even a little sad. Did Muraki really care if he wanted a child?
"A father who brings life into the world only to extinguish it later is worse than useless," Tsuzuki murmured. "I know what I am. Fatherhood is not for me, and I have no regrets." Using the handle of the cane, he lifted up Muraki's jaw. "No regrets at all."
Surprise flashed in Muraki's good eye, to be replaced by an unreadable hauteur.
Desire kindled within Tsuzuki. Muraki at his most supercilious excited him very much. Holding the cane by the shaft, he stroked the handle along Muraki's jaw and up one chiseled cheekbone, admiring the contrast of ebony against pale skin. "There are other more diverting ways for me to spend my eternity, hmm?"
Muraki didn't move a muscle. His grey eye glittered - whether it was annoyance, lust or amusement Tsuzuki couldn't tell.
Tsuzuki let the cane slide down to the corner of Muraki's mouth. With careful precision, he began to run the polished black wood along Muraki's lower lip - teasing the sensitive flesh. He let himself imagine it was his cock against Muraki's lips instead of the cane. The thought made his heart pound and the rest of his body tingle in anticipation.
Muraki grasped the handle, his lips curled in a sardonic smile. "I will do my best to keep you entertained." Using his thumb, he rubbed tantalising slow circles over the polished ebony knob.
Tsuzuki pulled the cane free. He was acutely embarrassed...and aroused. But this wasn't the time or place. "There's an altar. If you're here to pray to Jizo, you can do it there."
The altar consisted of a small covered alcove, open to the elements from the front and sides. Flanked by fresh flowers were three large Jizo statues as tall as a man, each wearing incongruous-looking oversized red bonnets and bibs. Incense smoke wafted from a bronze pot holding joss sticks.
Muraki rung the bell hanging over the altar, then bowed and clasped his hands together. The cat joined him, head bent as it sat at his feet.
Out of respect for Muraki's privacy, Tsuzuki sat on a stone bench a few metres away. His new clothes fitted him well, but were too stifling in this warm weather. Why did Muraki want him to dress like this? It wasn't like they were out to impress anyone. And why come to such a remote location to pray? There were more impressive Buddhist temples in Nagasaki City. The most famous, the Chinese-influenced Sofukuji, contained architecture that was marked as national treasures.
But Sofukuji would be packed with tourists. It would be difficult to keep a low profile, and Muraki's looks ensured he would stand out in any crowd. A man keeping a low profile from the Yakuza would take care to avoid detection at such a landmark.
Under the circumstances, visiting a humble roadside temple was a prudent choice.
Tsuzuki looked around. No men in black suits hiding among the shadows of the statues. No demons lurking behind the trees in the courtyard. The rustle of the leaves, the odd birdsong, and the prayer notes flapping in the wind were the only noises disturbing the silence.
Now was as good a time as any for him to get started.
Tsuzuki recited the invocation to himself, hands clasped together. When he was done, he lifted his head. Everything looked exactly the same. When he strained his ears, he could just make out a new sound - the methodical scrape of a broom sweeping leaves in the distance.
The cat stood up, ears pricked, tail twitching.
Muraki straightened. One hand was already reaching inside his jacket by the time he turned around.
"You're not thinking of using your gun, are you? It's considered sacrilegious to harm life in a Buddhist temple."
Slowly Muraki eased his hand away. "You seem remarkably composed under the circumstances, Tsuzuki-san."
"The Yakuza are hardly going to announce their arrival by doing the gardening, right? It's most likely the temple caretaker." Tsuzuki patted the bench. "Stop worrying and sit down."
Muraki lifted his brows at the authoritative tone. "Very well."
"Take out your knife." Tsuzuki pulled out a handful of illusion fuda. "I need a small blood sample."
Muraki began undoing his tie. "You've come to your senses at last."
"That's not what I--" The rest of his words were smothered against Muraki's long throat.
"Feed now. Your teeth are as sharp as any blade. My body is yours."
"No!" Tsuzuki shoved against Muraki's chest. His fingers scrabbled over the jacket until he found the penknife.
The cat watched them, tail twitching. "Stop playing. Enough now."
"It's not me, it's him!" Tsuzuki grabbed one of Muraki's roving hands. "I'm doing this for your own good!" He nicked the side of a fingertip. A drop of blood oozed from the wound.
"You can hear it. So you've opened your ears at last."
Taking advantage of Muraki's lack of resistance, Tsuzuki squeezed blood from the cut. He let drops fall over the paper charms and soak into the written spells. "There. That should be enough." At Muraki's quizzical look he explained, "Your illusion doubles will confuse your pursuers. It will give you time to escape."
"No. I must deal with them once and for all. I finish what I start--"
"I don't want you killing anyone! I...I order you not to kill anyone." Giving any kind of order to Muraki felt strange, even now. "If you are serious about being mine, then you must obey me when it comes to this. I won't tolerate you taking away life." He released Muraki's hand and took out a bandage plaster. "For you."
"You came prepared." Muraki began to unwrap it. "You planned this in advance."
"You said you were a changed man because of me, remember? Your transplant racket is over, your research laboratory destroyed. Killing for energy or sacrifice is unnecessary now. You can't use those reasons as an excuse to kill anymore."
"What about self-defence?"
Tsuzuki flicked through the fuda with the ease of a dealer shuffling cards. "Leave that to me." He placed them in his breast pocket.
Muraki looked closely at him for several seconds, his own features speculative. "I see." He bowed his head, the very picture of humble obedience. "Then I suppose I'll have no other motive but to kill for pleasure."
"Muraki!" Tsuzuki grasped his throat and shook hard. "This is no joking matter! I'm serious, dammit! Give me your word that you will never kill again."
"My word? Why? I don't believe in making empty promises. Why give one's word when it could be rendered obsolete by a memory lapse or momentary inattention? No, the word you seek is one that resides in yourself - the word that will release the power within. Already you've started to regain some of your abilities - merely a fraction of your full potential." He ran one finger along Tsuzuki's clenched jaw. "The rest will return to you soon enough."
"I'm fine with the way I am. I'm not after that kind of power." Tsuzuki hauled Muraki closer, until their lips almost touched. "I seek...something different."
"Do you?" His deep intimate voice sent shivers down Tsuzuki's spine. "Tell me...and I will do what I can to help you. Your power could be limitless if you only knew how to tap it."
"What I'm after...can only be given by free and open consent." Tsuzuki looked into Muraki's eyes, his own gaze unwavering. He could see the false eye glowing softly from behind his fringe. "Yours."
"My consent...?" Muraki's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Isn't our current arrangement pleasing enough? You seem more than satisfied with my methods--"
"Then forget it. These magical powers can remain sealed forever for all I care." He pushed Muraki away. "If they won't change anything between us, I don't want them."
"Tsuzuki-san..."
The cat leapt into Muraki's lap. "He's coming! He's coming!"
Both men looked up as one - Muraki scowling as he clutched the wriggling animal with one hand, Tsuzuki flushing while he extricated himself from Muraki's arm encircling his waist.
A little old man shuffled towards them. If he had been a bit shorter and several decades younger, he could have passed for the stone Jizo statues in the courtyard. He wore the simple garb of a monk and held a broom in one hand. His long beard and eyebrows half-covered his face, while the top of his head was as bare as the statues around him.
"Good evening and welcome. Allow me to introduce myself - I am the caretaker here. Thank you for visiting this humble place of worship."
Tsuzuki turned red. Genbu probably saw everything. So much for acting like a master. Hastily he stood up and bowed in greeting. "Good evening. My name is Tsuzuki. You have a lovely tranquil place here."
Muraki was silent. He and the cat were equally spellbound by the old man.
"You may remain anonymous if you wish. You are here to pray to Jizo, so he is the one to whom you must unburden your heart. Please don't let me interrupt your meditations." He cast a thoughtful look at the wooden cane resting on the bench behind Tsuzuki. "I must return to work. I must tend this garden and nourish the soil. It has been neglected too long in my absence." He shuffled away, dragging the broom behind him.
Tsuzuki returned to his seat. "Well...he doesn't look like one of the Yakuza, does he?"
"No." Muraki's gaze held a wealth of meaning. "Not at all."
The cat jumped from Muraki's lap and followed Genbu.
"Where's it going?"
"Cats are curious creatures. There's no suppressing such innate traits."
Near the gateway entrance, Genbu swept leaves into a large pile. The cat crouched low to the ground a safe distance away, stalking him.
Genbu would be safe. Tsuzuki had every faith in the Black Warrior.
He picked up the cane and absently stamped it on the ground. "Muraki, I've been thinking. Over the past few days, we've come to know each other well...in a physical sense. But we haven't spent time talking and getting to know each other. Maybe if we could talk more - try to understand each other - then we wouldn't argue so much."
"You want to make small talk?"
"I just want to know about your background. Tell me about your hobbies, your family, the friends you have...things like that. Tell me about your life in Tokyo."
"These irrelevant details have nothing to do with us." He placed his cool grip over Tsuzuki's restless fingers, holding the cane still. "I discarded my old life the night you blessed me with steel."
"A life cannot be cast off away like a snake's skin. Are you so sure you want to throw it away?" With his other hand, Tsuzuki took out a blood-stained fuda and flicked it with his fingers. "Maybe it's time you remember what you stand to lose."
"What's that?" Muraki reached for it.
Tsuzuki let it go. The paper charm fluttered free, carried up by the wind. "If you won't tell me about your past, I'll see for myself. We'll both see together."
The temple grounds receded before them into a swirling grey mist.
"What is this? What are you doing?"
"The illusion fuda absorbed an imprint of your physical being and psychological state. Key memories, elements of your character - the fuda retains these too. I can then use it to fashion a doppelganger that imitates your behaviour...or project your memories to form an illusion like this."
People were coming out of the haze, young and old. Some looked well, flushed with health. Others were pale and thin, hollow-eyed, lips tinged blue. But they were all smiling as they crowded close, and they repeated the same words over and over like a mantra:
"Please, sensei. Thank you, sensei. Please, sensei. Thank you, sensei..."
"Are all of them your patients?" Tsuzuki was amazed at their numbers. There had to be hundreds of them.
Muraki's face was like marble stone. He looked into space, unseeing, unresponsive.
Tsuzuki gently shook Muraki's shoulder. "Look at them. These are the people you've helped."
"Tried to help."
"But they're all thanking you. They're grateful to you for trying your best."
"Some have nothing to be grateful for." Muraki was speaking through clenched teeth. "Look into their eyes."
"I can't believe it. You've done so much for so many people..." Tsuzuki had to stifle his awe. Surely a person who helped so many couldn't be all bad. Perhaps he'd been motivated by ambition and greed and ego, but Muraki must have a shred of compassion too. How could he not be moved by their heartfelt words? "They respect you. They admire and appreciate you. They value the work you do. They place their hopes in you. By leaving your career, you're leaving them too!"
"They are fools. In medical science there is no hope, merely statistics. Doctors are deified out of ignorance. Humans find more certainty in myth and superstition than science. That is why religion flourishes even today."
"Is that your reason for embracing the occult? But the only certainty about a demonic covenant is the way it manipulates those foolish enough to agree to one!"
"Let me show you the foolish ones. Observe this elderly lady."
She was frail and thin, her body mere skin and bone. "Please, sensei. Thank you, sensei." She reached out to him. "Please, sensei. Thank you, sensei."
Muraki held her hand. "She came to me with severe mitral valve regurgitation after a myocardial infarct."
"Is she making a ticking noise? What is that?"
"Her mechanical prosthesis. Many of the older models are audible without a stethoscope." Muraki seized her by the throat. She choked and wheezed, her arms wriggling in mid-air.
"Muraki! Stop it!"
"It doesn't matter. I've already carved open her chest wall and heart with her consent. In retrospect, asphyxiating her the moment she came to me would have been the kinder gesture."
"How the hell can you say--"
He tossed her into Tsuzuki's lap. "Look in her eyes. Read what is there."
"Please, sensei," she whimpered. Her rheumy eyes were lost, devoid of hope. Her cheeks and eyesockets were hollows in her face. "Thank you, sensei. Please, sensei." A bony hand clawed at Tsuzuki's sleeve.
She was little more than an animated skeleton. Her skull-like visage was the face of death.
"She suffered a second infarct after the surgery, went into cardiac arrest followed by massive hypoxic brain damage. Two years on, she lives in a semi-conscious state thanks to an artificial feeding tube and the tireless care of her family who refuse to let her go." His lips twisted. "However, her valve remains in excellent working condition to this day. A successful outcome, ne?"
"They...they aren't all like this. Don't focus only on your failures. Look at your successes."
"In the end, they will die too. Everyone dies. Medical science arbitrarily selects 'five-year survival' as the marker for a curative outcome, but the reality is that we all die. The patients I successfully treat have merely been given the opportunity to die of something else. Death wins. Death always wins." He closed his eyes. "Enough. I have no regrets in leaving behind my surgical career. Every face here...a reminder of my defeat. I want no part of it anymore." He turned to Tsuzuki, his false eye glowing. "I wash my hands of it."
The people around them receded into the swirling grey mist.
"Okay then." Tsuzuki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You want to leave your career. But what about your friends? Are you going to leave them behind too?"
"I have no need of 'friends'." Muraki spat the last word out. "A 'friend' cannot give me what I need." He pulled Tsuzuki close.
"Hey, Muraki!" It was a drawling masculine voice that lacked the deference of the patients. "Don't tell me you're sulking on your own with the mizuko again."
"Kazu-kun?" The soft lilting voice of a young woman. "Are you there?"
Muraki froze.
"Sound like anyone you know?" Tsuzuki asked.
The cat knew something was wrong.
Muraki wasn't moving or speaking. He seemed caught in a trance, his gaze blank. By his side, Tsuzuki observed him like a hawk. Above them, the fuda charm floated in mid-air.
"What are you doing?" The feline rushed towards them. "Leave him alone!"
"Stay!" the old man commanded. He stamped his foot.
The earth rumbled and shook. A slab of granite surged out from under the cat's feet. It thrust the yowling creature ten metres into the air before coming to an abrupt stop.
"How...how did you do that?" it cried. It was a sheer drop to the ground. The rock afforded little grip for its claws. The cat crouched low, preparing itself to jump.
The old man smiled up at him. "You risk injuring your host if you fall from this height. The species you inhabit has an inflated belief in its physical agility. For your own safety and his, remain where you are."
"I knew you were hiding your emanations!" The cat lashed its tail. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"My name is my own, just as yours belongs to you." He began sweeping once more. "Your master is being tested - in the same way he has tested mine."
"Kazu-kun? Where have you been? We've been looking for you everywhere."
"You idiot. Always thinking the same stubborn way about yourself. You were too proud to listen to anyone else."
Two distinct voices, strong and clear. They came from the mist, but they lacked substance or form.
Tsuzuki tapped his index finger on the cane handle. This was odd. "Your friends are calling, Muraki. They seem worried about you."
"Hey, Muraki! You there?"
The swirling mist began to thicken around them.
Weird. Muraki obviously knew them. Their voices rang with clarity. So why couldn't the illusion fuda generate their form?
"Don't you want to see them? They sound eager to see you. Say something to them."
"Kazu-kun? Can you hear me? Kazu-kun!"
Tsuzuki winced. It was impossible not to be moved by her distress. Whoever she was, she must be very fond of Muraki. How could he be so indifferent to her pain? Or could it be...
"Is she...someone special?"
Muraki broke out of his trance. "Don't call her that!" he snarled.
It had to be true. Tsuzuki felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
He laughed too loudly to cover his shock. "With a sweet voice like that, she must be very pretty." He elbowed Muraki in the ribs. "No wonder you want to keep her to yourself! But I promise not to make a move on her. She'll be safe with me."
"She means nothing to me! Nothing!"
"I want to see you again!" Her voice trembled on the brink of giving way. "Kazu-kun, please!"
"Are you sure? You seem to mean a great deal to her."
Thick black fog rolled in from all sides, but it couldn't silence the voices. Muraki's hands were balled into white-knuckled fists. His jaw was clenched, his eyes tightly shut.
Where was this fog coming from? Was Muraki battling the spell from within? No, it couldn't be. The fuda's integrity remained intact - as the spellcaster, Tsuzuki was sure of it. It could only be coming from the fuda - stained with Muraki's blood.
"Kazu-kun, I know you're out there!"
"You haven't changed a bit." The man's voice again. "You always kept your cards close to your chest. You never opened up to anyone. You only presented the same arrogant smile to the world - the face of a puppet."
Something curled around Tsuzuki's cane. This wasn't fog. It was thick impenetrable shadow darkness.
"Answer me, Kazu-kun! I know you can hear me!"
"Of all the..." A horrible idea struck Tsuzuki. "Is this part of your covenant - the masking of your memories? Does he expect you to give up your mind as well as your body?"
Muraki placed his right hand over his chest. His fingers clenched into his shirt.
"Don't let him get away with it. Don't let him win." Tsuzuki shook him for emphasis. "Don't let him steal the memories of the ones you love. Tell me the demon's name, and I'll help you return to them--"
Muraki lunged for Tsuzuki's throat.
Tsuzuki dodged and swung the cane up to block him.
Muraki was faster. He seized the cane with both hands. Both men toppled off the seat, Muraki crashing on top of Tsuzuki. The cane's shaft was poised inches from Tsuzuki's throat. Only Tsuzuki's white-knuckled resistance kept it from crushing his windpipe.
Up close, Muraki's eyes were shining red slits. There was no discernable pattern or writing on either eye for Tsuzuki to read. But what chilled Tsuzuki the most was Muraki's face - a blank expressionless mask.
"The parasite awakes...at last. Identify yourself!"
It didn't speak. The swirling darkness curled around them both, silencing the illusion voices.
"You block my fuda...but you're too weak to take full possession, huh?" Tsuzuki taunted. "Don't push me too far. If I harm your host, you'll suffer too."
The red glow in his eyes became brighter. Muraki's weight became heavier, far heavier than a normal human. It pressed into Tsuzuki, crushing the air from his lungs. The darkness thickened, clouding his vision of Muraki's face.
Daring to call Tsuzuki's bluff.
Tsuzuki swore under his breath. He had to retreat. "He may be a human...but his spirit is strong. Covenant or not...I won't let him be your puppet. I won't let him forget...who he really is." Tsuzuki took a deep breath in and shouted with all his might, "Muraki! Muraki!"
The shadowy wisps rippled and thinned. The red light in Muraki's good eye dimmed.
"Muraakii! That's your name, you idiot! Muraakii! Muraakiii Kazutaakaaaa!"
Muraki's grip over the cane became lax. The light in the false eye receded to form four glowing points. He blinked and focused, banishing the glassy stare.
"Tsuzuki-san..."
Tsuzuki sighed in relief, and broke the illusion spell. "Muraki...it's you, isn't it?"
"Yes." Muraki gazed down at Tsuzuki, and the cane trapped between them. "How did we come to be in this compromising position?"
Tsuzuki pulled the cane free and pushed him off. "Believe me, it wasn't my idea."
"Oh." Muraki sat up, a little disappointed.
"Muraki." Tsuzuki placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you know what happened just then?"
Muraki nodded slowly. "I can't believe it," he whispered. He suddenly nuzzled Tsuzuki's cheek. "Did I actually hear you call me by my first name?"
Tsuzuki turned beet-red. Hastily he stood up. "You were acting like a zombie! Why don't you ask me about that?"
"Was I?" Muraki took stock of himself, sitting on the grass. He saw the paper charm floating to the ground, and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Hmmph. I suppose it was the work of your bizarre fuda magic. You take delight in using it to make a fool of me."
"No, that wasn't the reason! It was you and your covenant!"
Genbu stood patiently by a rock pillar, his arms folded. Waiting. Tsuzuki shook his head.
"Get me down!" the cat yowled. "I see them! They're coming!"
"How did it get up there?"
"It was going to interfere. I took care not to harm it as you requested."
"Oh. Good work." Tsuzuki gave the rock an experimental push. "You can get rid of this, right?"
"What for? This is a piece of stone worthy of worship. This monolith is a symbol of Earth's virility!"
"Virility? What...why...what do you need to prove your virility for?"
"I do this for the Earth. Humans view Earth as a resource to be plundered and desecrated. It is my duty to display Earth's might and power so humans will remember to show it the respect it deserves."
"Most impressive..." Muraki was standing before the monolith, his clinical gaze taking in the bizarre rock pillar, the cat perched on top, and finally resting on the old man guarding its base. "Especially when one considers the size of its creator." He chuckled as he combed one hand through his hair. "Tsuzuki-san, your execrable choice in acquaintances never ceases to amaze me."
"Hey! Show some respect to the aged!"
"I am not offended," Genbu reassured him. "He has aimed his barb at you, yet unwittingly injures himself with its implications."
"Stop it, all of you!" The cat lashed its tail, hissing. "Listen to me! They're almost here! Two black cars coming up the road!"
"The Yakuza? How did they know you'd be here?"
Muraki slid his glasses up his nose. "Because I told them."
"You...you did what? What the hell for?"
"This is a beautiful location for a secret assignation, ne? Isolated, peaceful, private...and completely free of witnesses, present company excepted. Perfectly suited for my purposes."
Tsuzuki's jaw dropped. "You...you planned this all along. When you prepared your gun, I thought it was for self-defence!"
"The best form of defence is offence, Tsuzuki-san. Those who ignore this truth do so at their peril."
Tsuzuki took hold of his arm. "Muraki, let me handle them--"
"I finish what I start, for better or worse." Muraki shook himself off, and fastidiously straightened his jacket. "The time for hiding is over."
Tsuzuki grabbed the lapels of his suit and spun him around. "This is an order, Muraki! You keep saying you're mine - now prove it by obeying me!"
"Do you want a coward for a consort?" Muraki gripped his jaw. "Through my deeds I will prove myself worthy to stand at your side. Surely this is what you want as well."
"I want you to listen! No more murders! No more killing! Give me your word!"
Muraki chuckled. "You remind me of a spoilt child. What do you think I am - a pet you can command as you please?"
"You..."
Muraki seized both his wrists in a crushing grip. "You reveal your intentions in advance. That's what makes you so easy to predict...and so much fun to play with." His false eye began to glow white. "Two can play at that game now."
Tsuzuki wrenched himself away. "Lower the rock!"
Genbu stamped his foot. The ground shuddered, and the pillar began to descend.
"Interesting." Muraki eyed the little man with new respect. "A minor Earth shikigami, I presume?"
Genbu's response was an inscrutable smile.
"Muraki!" Tsuzuki's voice trembled with seething rage. "I will never accept a callous murderer for a...a 'consort.'" He almost spat the word out. "Remember that." His form winked into nothingness.
The old man bowed. "It is a generous warden who allows his captive to choose his prison. A walled dungeon versus a virtual Eden - the decision is yours." He vanished in a cloud of black smoke.
The cat waited for the pillar to reach a safe height before leaping to the ground. "What does that mean? What is he talking about?"
Muraki picked up the cane Tsuzuki left behind, his expression brooding. He held the wood in his clenched hands as if he longed to snap it in two.
"Don't be fooled," the cat warned. "His spiritual presence is strong! He said he wanted to test you!"
It was twilight in the temple courtyard, the sky lit with a gold-pink glow from the retreating sun. The sea breeze was beginning to pick up. Muraki closed his eyes as the cool air caressed his skin through the layers of clothes. Its touch seemed to soothe the furrows from his brow.
In the distance, he could hear the whup-whup of a helicopter.
He opened his eyes and tossed the cane over his shoulder. It hit the ground with a dull thud.
Muraki smiled anyway. "Come," he said to the cat. "We must greet these prospective assassins of mine, ne?"
In the Hall of Candles, Watson entered one of the many sitting rooms balancing a three-tiered tray the same height as himself. It held a mouth-watering selection of finger sandwiches, fruit tarts, small iced cupcakes, buttery French pastries, and scones with cream and a range of fruit preserves.
"Thank you, Watson. As far as I'm concerned, it's never too late in the day to serve high tea." Hakushaku held up the teapot. "Would you like some more?"
"No." Seated in the high-backed chair facing him, the guest barely acknowledged his presence. His shadowed gaze was riveted to the violet candle, now safely ensconced within the glass chimney of a hurricane lamp.
"Suit yourself." Hakushaku refilled his own cup. "You haven't even touched it. Is it not to your liking?" Untroubled by the guest's silence, he chuckled. "Why so worried? You've had more than seventy years of docility - more or less - far longer than any of the others. It would be extremely foolish - and arrogant - not to have made a contingency plan for such an eventuality."
The man didn't answer.
"Unless...you fell for it too." Hakushaku steepled his gloved fingers in front of him. "Secure in your fortress, jealously guarding your face - did it not occur to you that he would learn to do the same? The playful puppy guise was his method for concealing the wolf lurking within. And it worked so well! He's been embraced as one of them, welcomed into the fold without question..." Hakushaku's mask shook with laughter. "He's even managed to fool himself!"
The flame flickered once, then again, as if nodding in agreement.
"But there's no escaping from one's intrinsic nature. We know that better than most, ne? We only need to look into those beautiful eyes to see the truth."
Candlelight danced across the guest's clenched jaw. For an instant, the light illuminated his gaze - a searing flash of pure crystalline violet.
There were four burly men marching his way, all dressed in identical off-the-rack black suits. Three of them brandished firearms.
How could they expect to look threatening in such ill-fitting outfits? Muraki found small satisfaction in knowing he'd persuaded Tsuzuki to ditch the unflattering suit he was wearing earlier.
"Muraki Kazutaka?"
"Gentlemen." He smiled pleasantly. "How can I help you?"
From behind his legs, the cat hissed at them.
"We have instructions to take you into custody. Armed men surround the grounds and block access to the road. We have our helicopter patrolling the airspace."
"How thoughtful. You've considered all possibilities."
"Please surrender your weapons and come with us. There is no escape this time, sensei."
"Excellent." Muraki slowly removed his glasses. "I always enjoy a challenge."
A powerful gust of wind howled through the temple grounds, picking up leaves and grit. The men cowered against the sudden onslaught of flying particles.
"After him! He's getting away!"
But Muraki remained standing, both arms outstretched, his hands lifted skyward. His clothes flapped, and his hair flowed in the wind, yet he was untouched by the airborne debris.
Above them, the wind played havoc with the helicopter. It rocked from side to side, up and down, then pitched head first and hurtled down.
"It's coming for us! Run for it!" The armed men fled.
"Get back here, cowards! Grab him first!"
The earth shook and cracked open. A geyser of hot water gushed high into the air. It struck the helicopter and sent it sideways. Dislodged from the cockpit, the pilot began to fall.
"Well, well," Muraki murmured. He watched the pilot decelerate in defiance of gravity. He was lowered to the ground by an invisible force, unconscious yet unharmed. "Quixotic to the end. You truly are a fool."
The helicopter slammed into a nearby hillside and exploded in a ball of fire.
"Shit! The rumours about you are true!" The leader drew his gun. "Stop the tricks now or I'll shoot!"
"Tricks?" Muraki lifted a brow. "Whatever do you mean?"
The muzzle of the gun ripped into two. Each half began folding in on itself like a concertina.
"What the..." He dropped the gun. The cat leapt for his hand, hissing and scratching and biting. "Arrgh! Get off me!"
Muraki turned around and took out his own firearm. "Now...where are your companions? I don't want to neglect them."
A staccato of gunfire erupted outside the grounds, followed by the ear-splitting screech of twisting, crunching metal.
"Foolish humans," a deep voice rumbled. The ground trembled in sympathy. "Gouging the earth to pollute the air. Foolish, foolish humans."
Terrified men ran inside from all directions, shouting and screaming. Some were clutching bleeding wounds. Others looked too shell-shocked to form coherent words.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"We're gonna die! We're gonna die!"
"That bastard's managed to clone an army of himself! His doubles are out there hurling knives! Hell, maybe one of them is the real one!"
"A fricking dinosaur is stomping on our cars! Whatta we gonna do!"
"Hmm." Muraki could see a massive silhouette shifting against the fading light, growling and thumping. "What a hypocritical show-off you are, Tsuzuki-san."
The feline retreated from its attack, most annoyed. "He won't eat me! I can't absorb his energy!"
"Take him!" The leader pointed a bloody finger at Muraki. "Dead or alive - I don't care! He's only one man, dammit!"
Men rushed forward, guns firing - each bullet a promise of lethal injury.
Muraki smiled. His false eye glowed.
En masse, the bullets swerved around him. Not a single one grazed his flesh. The hair on his head, even the clothes he wore remained untouched. Once they had finished, there was an eerie silence - a pregnant pause more deafening that the cacophony of gunfire.
"Your mastery of metal is incomplete, gentlemen. You manipulate your tools without appreciation, let alone artistry."
"I knew it," one of them muttered. "He's not human. I'm outta here!" He turned to flee.
Muraki lifted his gun. "Let me show you how it's done."
The earth rumbled its displeasure. The ground heaved and trembled, sending every person tumbling to the ground. A wide fissure split the ground, dividing Muraki and the cat from the hitmen. The air over the fissure shimmered to reveal Genbu in snake-tortoise form, his spike-studded carapace towering over everyone. He stood astride the fissure, his fearsome crocodile-like muzzle hovering before Muraki.
"Arrrgh! The dinosaur!" The men scrambled in all directions.
Tsuzuki was seated atop Genbu's head, gilded by the silvery light of the rising moon. The front of his suit and shirt was smeared with blood, as were his hands. He could have been a victorious emperor laying waste to conquered land but for the sadness in his eyes.
"You don't need to kill anymore. They know they can't touch you. You've already proven yourself the victor. Put down your gun."
"Hah! Look at you, stained with the blood of others! Why must you be the only one to hold a monopoly over death and destruction? Isn't it said that sharing a pleasure doubles one's enjoyment?
"There is no 'pleasure' in wielding power if all you deliver is chaos! Destroying everything you touch - where is the enjoyment in that? Letting everyone down again and again even though you try your best..." Tsuzuki's shoulders slumped, his anger deserting him. "I guess it sounds all too familiar to you. But I know that if we compared our occupational failures, my list would be a lot longer than yours. You think being a surgeon is a futile job? Well, being a shinigami is nothing to be proud of, either. If anything, it's worse." Tsuzuki looked down at his hands. "A shinigami's motivations were never noble in the first place."
Muraki studied him, head tilted to one side. "This knowledge causes you much pain, doesn't it?"
"I know you feel the same pain - that's why you abandoned your career. But wanton vandalism won't heal the wound within your heart. It only leads to more self-loathing and bitterness and misery - a self-perpetuating cycle of loneliness."
Something contorted Muraki's features - a momentary anguish or pain, it was hard to tell.
"It doesn't have to be like this. Let's end it now." Tsuzuki held out his hand. "Come with me...Kazutaka."
Muraki stared at the hand for a long moment. His gaze seemed hungry, longing. "The last person who called me by that name was my mother." He lowered his gaze. "I wanted to please her. I sought to emulate her." He turned around and began to walk away. "Most of all, I wanted to be the one to crush her."
"Muraki! What the... Come back!"
Muraki swung around and sprinted towards the fissure. Aided by a sudden gust of wind, he cleared the gap with the agility of a cheetah.
"Muraki! Genbu, after him!"
Genbu began to turn, his heavy footsteps shaking the earth.
"Hey! Wait for me!" the cat cried.
Genbu scooped up the cat with a whip of his tail and tossed him into the air. He arched his long neck up so Tsuzuki could catch it.
"Gotcha." Tsuzuki placed him in his lap. "Hold on tight!"
Genbu lurched into a rumbling stampede. His footfalls brought the earth to life. Geysers of hot steam spewed in Muraki's path. Cracks crisscrossed the ground. Granite pillars sprouted to block his way.
Muraki dodged and leapt and sidestepped these obstacles with exquisite timing.
Tsuzuki clutched the spikes adorning Genbu's head, awestruck. Muraki looked fit enough, but this ability was more than human.
Trailing in his wake, Genbu ploughed straight through them.
Ahead were several of the hitmen. "There he is! He's coming this way!"
"No, Muraki! Don't do it!"
Without a pause, Muraki lifted his gun and fired five shots. All five men fell like neatly aligned dominoes.
"Precision reflexes," Genbu rasped.
"The bastard..." Tsuzuki muttered.
Gunshots rang out from another group of men. Muraki swerved towards them, two hunting knives at the ready.
Genbu galloped into his path, his black carapace blocking the way. His neck whipped forward, his gold eyes flashing, jaws bared to unveil snake-like fangs and sulfurous breath. Kneeling on his head, Tsuzuki clutched the spikes for support.
"Stop it, Muraki! Listen to me, damn you!"
Muraki dodged.
Genbu wheeled around and whipped his lower neck to form a loose coil around Muraki. He tightened it, his head arching over its centre, ready to strike.
Fearlessly Muraki struck out. Genbu hissed and writhed, narrowly avoiding the slashing blades. Tsuzuki and the cat almost fell as Genbu whipped his sinuous neck free and tried to bite Muraki at the same time.
"Be careful with him! Genbuuuu!"
The coils fell away for a moment. It was all Muraki needed. He leapt through the opening and hurled himself into the hail of oncoming bullets. He swept one guy aside with a gash to the throat, and used the same knife to pierce another in the chest. Blood spilled on his hands. The sight excited him to a frenzy of bloodshed. Using both knives, he disembowelled one man, then pirouetted around to decapitate another. Others he used as pin-cushions, savagely stabbing them in the chest and abdomen. Their sickening groans and squeals were interspersed with the crunch of knife against bone and the squelch of blood splattering the ground.
Genbu watched the gruesome dance with keen darting eyes. Tsuzuki covered his face with his hands. The cat looked on with greedy longing.
The last man fell away. Muraki swirled around, drenched in blood, triumphant. "Tsuzuki-san..." His voice was breathless, husky. "You were wrong...about the joys of wanton vandalism." He laughed. "It's been too long...since I last killed..."
"Watch out!" the cat cried out. "Behind your left!"
A man dived for him, but Muraki neatly sidestepped and knifed him twice beneath the ribs. He fell face down with a thud.
Muraki turned him over. "Why...it's the spokesman of the group." he said pleasantly. "You should've fled when you had the chance."
"Muraki Kazutaka..." he gasped, "...you are under arrest..."
Tsuzuki lifted his head. "What did he say?"
"Nothing." Muraki sheathed his knives and pulled out his gun. A single shot rang out with the certainty of death itself. "Nothing at all."
"Did he just say...? These men...don't tell me they're police?"
Muraki lowered himself down to check the pockets of their leader. "Does it matter? Death doesn't discriminate between good and evil."
"All this time..." Tsuzuki's hands clenched into fists. ".All this time I thought you needed protection from the Yakuza when you were a criminal on the run from the law! You lied all this time! Everything you've said...all a pack of lies!"
Muraki checked a wallet, then dropped it on the man's chest. "I didn't lie. You came to your own conclusions." He studied the man's hands lying lifelessly by his side. They were unmarked, clean.
He frowned, brows furrowed together. Where were the scratches inflicted by the cat? How could he heal so fast? Unless...
"Tsuzuki-san!" Muraki bellowed. He surged to his feet. "What's the meaning of this?"
Tsuzuki was gone. Only the cat sat upon Genbu's head, tail lashing. "He's a double!" it yowled. "He's been a double all along!"
Genbu's gold eyes glowed. "He wasn't the only double."
The bloody corpses exploded into a blizzard of fluttering paper charms speckled with blood.
Tsuzuki waited for him in the eye of the fuda storm, the wooden cane hanging in the crook of his elbow. "You idiot." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Come to me now, Muraki."
Muraki let out an anguished roar. He charged towards Tsuzuki, a wounded bull seeking vengeance. He thrust the knife to the hilt into Tsuzuki's heart.
Tsuzuki buckled over. He grabbed Muraki by the shoulders in a fierce hug. "No murderer...can be my consort..." With his other hand, he enveloped Muraki's face with blinding white light.
Muraki's gaze went blank. He slumped against Tsuzuki's shoulder.
Slowly Tsuzuki let him fall to the ground, then crouched over in a trembling coughing fit. He spat out clotted blood. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the knife handle and yanked it out. A small gush of blood left the wound, followed by a slow trickle.
Tsuzuki wiped his damp brow with one sleeve. Knives couldn't kill a shinigami, but the pain of a stab wound felt all too real. He pulled out the barrier fuda he'd concealed in Muraki's jacket. "Completely intact. He didn't even use it once, Genbu."
"The quicksilver speed of Wind combined with impressive control over Metal. Those crude metal projectile weapons were never going to harm him. Yet it was his human characteristics that emerged when he lost his temper. Truly a chimera."
"Doubles..." the cat meowed. "Doubles everywhere. You were the one tricking him all along."
"Payback for all the tricks he's played on me."
"We were testing him," Genbu corrected. "We need to assess the extent of his abilities and obedience."
"Testing? What for?"
"I wasn't sure it would work," Tsuzuki explained. "He knew how to find me through my invisibility cloak, remember. Luckily for me he couldn't tell me apart from my illusion fuda at a distance." He brushed aside the silver hair to look at his face. "He must have used up too much of his spiritual energy during the fight."
"I couldn't detect you either," the cat said. "You're better at concealing your emanations. Your power is growing."
Tsuzuki lifted Muraki in his arms. "Damn, he's heavy."
"He will make a most interesting exhibit," Genbu said. "Shall I make the necessary preparations?"
Pensively Tsuzuki observed Muraki's sleeping face. He tightened his grip.
"Preparations for what?" the cat asked. It clawed uselessly at the leathery skin on Genbu's head. "Tell me!"
"We have to get those injured men to a hospital. I don't think they're badly hurt, but they should be checked over." He grimaced. "Those Muraki fuda doubles have a mind of their own. They're as vicious and stubborn as the original. They refused to listen to a word I said."
"Your only miscalculation. Fortunately you extinguished them in time. What about the other unconscious men?"
"They won't remember a thing. Let's leave them at the hospital too - explain we found them in a road accident." Tsuzuki began trudging out of the temple grounds by moonlight, Genbu following him. "The way you flattened their cars - it's like a steamroller ran them over."
"It was for the good of the earth. The earth has been depleted in my absence--"
"All right! You've had your fun, haven't you? I don't want to hear any more complaints about how I never use you, okay?"
"But it's the truth. For years, you have neglected me--"
"Hey!" the cat yowled. "You didn't answer me! What test? What test are you talking about? I know you can both hear me!"
Tsuzuki surveyed the scene. The hillside fire was burning itself out. The temple grounds were cracked, steam rising out of the multiple fissures. Rock pillars lay toppled on the ground, resembling the end of a giant's game of dominoes. Shattered Jizo statues were strewn everywhere. The altar was the only structure still standing.
He'd done much worse during his battles with demons. At least no one had died. The only smouldering ashes were the debris from the crashed helicopter - and his hopes for sending Muraki back to his former life.
"Don't worry, Genbu. I'll speak to Tenkuu tomorrow."
Genbu bowed his head. "As you wish."