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FUN FACTS:
Ch. 48: When I wrote that Jenhao whistled, there was a Catching Fire movie DVD commercial playing behind me...
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Eyes of Wolves
- 49 -
.: SIX YEARS AGO :.
There is an air about the superior officers that makes Zenshi forget that they're actually not that much older than him. But the affected jovial smiles are hard to pity and hard to believe, all at once. They are aged by violence, blood, and corruption.
But they are all good people, innately good people with emotions and consciences and souls. Zenshi has met enough people to see through the illusory smiles and the deceptive gruff first impressions.
Abuto introduces him to his squad.
"Petty Officer Mei, this lovely lady right here who happens to be your fellow initiate, will be your immediate aide," he announces. The blonde flashes a toothy grin as Abuto continues. "However, your right hand man will be Ensign Delong in all large operations and affairs. The chain of command proceeds as follows: Zenshi, Delong, Jenhao, Jinlin, Mei, and Tabs. Because you are a flexible group, there will be times where someone different, perhaps with more expertise or more knowledge, will assume leadership. As of now, everything is lined up by rank and then by seniority. Clear?"
Zenshi surveys his group. Mei has a levity that even Tabs cannot match; Tabs has an palpable nervousness that he slimly disguises with a calculating glare. Zenshi has to admit that Tabs cannot make a mean face to save his life.
The rest of the group is harrowingly stoic. Delong and the woman are strikingly similar — though he's muscled and has got sloped shoulders and stubble around his angular jaw, his hair a (deliberately?) styled sweep of cropped spikes and an undercut like Zenshi's, Delong has a thin face and a brow of similar contour to the woman's beside him. The only other female besides Mei, Jinlin is a somewhat impassive, nonchalant character with long, flat black hair and narrow eyes. She is blunt but quiet, and always smells subtly like coffee.
After the two — whom Zenshi later learns to be cousins, or so they told him — comes Jenhao, who is mild and the "middle brother" of the other two. Jinlin is only three years older than Zenshi, Delong is six. Jenhao sits somewhere in the middle, but he doesn't look it. He has light hair for a Yato; it's of similar color to Abuto's, but more like a dark blond than anything else. It's cut neatly around his head in a regular boy's cut, though the front remains long and he frequently brushes it aside. He's a friendly, mild man, and Zenshi immediately takes a liking to Jenhao.
"Coffee?" the older crewman asks, when the meeting ends and the young lieutenant is left with an unfamiliar squad and abiding faces.
Before Zenshi can even reply, Jenhao chuckles lightly.
"You don't look like a coffee person. Tea?" Easily switching the coffeepot for a teapot, Jenhao pours him an easy oolong. "I'm more a tea person myself, but some mornings move too quickly for me to actually brew a good pot."
"This is fine tea," Zenshi commends politely. The taste is subtle and strong all at once, aromatic and of good quality leaves.
"I try to get my hands on some when I can. My wife sent me a box of varied leaves this past weekend. She's pregnant, and I worry often, so we correspond with mail the best we can."
Zenshi nods. He isn't quite sure what to reply with. "That sounds lovely. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No, but she says it's a boy, and I suppose a mother knows best." Jenhao offers a mild smile. His entire essence adheres to an easygoing motto, never a conniving face on his features or a mean bone in his body. Zenshi knows, though, that the blood of the Yato strives cogently within every man in the 7th Division. Jenhao is one of those, just like Zenshi's own mother, that manage to quell the boiling genes with commodious patience and perhaps the occasional brew of chamomile to sooth the nerves.
Jenhao asks if Zenshi would like to see a picture. Wanting to know his new crew better, the boy accepts.
"This is my wife," Jenhao announces proudly, procuring a slightly crinkled photo from his pocket. The woman is pleasantly plain, but with lovely green eyes and long brown hair braided down her back. She wears the traditional Yato clothing in the photo, but it's a large dress, wide around the abdomen because her belly is distended with a growing baby.
"She's beautiful. You're very lucky." Zenshi peers closer. Yes, Jenhao looks as if he might fit right there in the picture.
"Pardon me if I'm intrusive, Lieutenant, but do you have any pictures of your family?"
Zenshi looks up.
"No, I don't."
"I see."
"But I do," Zenshi says quickly, "have this." He draws out his mother's gold locket, which has a small picture within.
"Lieutenant," Jenhao says with a friendly smile, "I'm going to have to request that we don't lie to one another if we work together. It seems you do have a picture after all."
"So it seems." Zenshi is warmed by the man's gentle smile and serene personality. Jenhao presents all issues with more patience than the lieutenant himself, and a thousand times more openheartedness than any Yato on board.
"Is that your mother?"
"Yes."
Jenhao doesn't make the mistake of asking where Zenshi's father is, or why he isn't present in the photo.
But instead, he says to Zenshi what no one ever has:
"You truly resemble your mother."
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
He was hardly recognizable, dressed in Sciuttlan garb of the most outrageous colors, but looking more like a tourist than actual citizen. He carried a plain red umbrella overhead — it was rounded and practical, a movement away from the sleek weapon he used to have on hand — and his amber hair had grown long enough to tie back.
"Lieutenant," Jenhao addressed lightly, with his mellow smile. "It's been a while."
"Jenhao," Zenshi said, nodding. "I regret to inform you that I no longer hold that title. It belongs to Mei, now."
At this, the other Yato just laughed. "Mei? Oh, Danchou must be having fun. And I doubt you regret at all, Zenshi."
Jenhao had a pliable skill in communication. He was capable of slipping into any role with ease and comfort. Adroit at the art of calm and collection, Jenhao was an expert at conjuring up the most appropriate sentiments. He dropped Zenshi's title without much effort, and seeing as the two were of similar age, Jenhao had no qualms about his familiarity with the younger man.
"Kamui is now the Harusame admiral, I hear," Jenhao continued. "He hasn't laid a hand on Sciuttla since then, however."
Zenshi smiled briefly.
"Good. And the women and children?"
"Safe." Jenhao peered around Zenshi, spotting the Kaientai and the Hyakka. Mutsu flashed her silver band, and Jenhao returned with a brief gesture of his left index finger, which sported the same ring. "You seem to have brought guests."
"I wouldn't call'em guests," Mutsu interrupted. "We've got three parties with three different purposes. The Kaientai is strictly on business."
"And the other two?" Jenhao paused. "I suppose I needn't ask you, Zenshi, but the humans…?"
"Business," Tsukuyo cut in curtly. "We've got somethin' personal to take care of."
"I see. Well, for now, I'll take you to where I've been staying. It's a refugee's home, sponsored by our 'patron' in a hotel." Jenhao nodded in the direction he meant to lead them in. Mutsu and Sakamoto said their goodbyes, the former briskly ordering her men to begin unloading crates of goods to be sold.
"Wow," one of the Hyakka (Chiyako?) continued murmuring. As they left the confines of the artfully crafted space port, the colors became more vibrant and the hues more brilliant. If there was a color humans and Yato could not see, they could see it now.
"Miss," Jenhao called, "Do you mind me asking what brings you to Sciuttla? I'd like to assist your cause in any way possible, seeing as you've come with Zenshi."
"We're lookin' fer a criminal," Tsukuyo replied brusquely. "He's got ties to somethin' that we're aimin' to finish off."
"You ladies sound…determined," Jenhao offered. His wan facial expression belied his words; he seemed more akin to calling them the devil's assassination squad. Four fierce ladies, three of which were armed to the teeth and the fourth, their leader, the fiery courtesan of death. "This man must have done some heinous crimes for you to pursue him so fervently."
"He bombed our home!" exclaimed Hotaru (yes, that was Hotaru, Zenshi was sure now). "We're ending this."
"Bombed?" Jenhao paused. They were nearly at the door. He cast his former lieutenant a wary glance, and then turned back to the women.
"Jenhao," Zenshi warned in a low voice. The dark blond had lost the coruscating smile he typically wore, and an almost estranged concern had found its way onto his face. But disregarding Zenshi, he spoke.
"You wouldn't happen to be looking for Raku the Rapid, would you?"
.: SEPTEMBER, ONE WEEK AGO :.
"What is that?" asked Seita, pointing at the strange fruits and vegetables that Tsukuyo let spill across the table.
"Dinner."
Seita gagged. "Are you sure?"
"Seita, those taste pretty much like normal fruits and veggies," Hinowa began, pointing at the blue zucchini with yellow polka dots. "They cook and feel just about the same."
"Vegetables," hissed Seita, grandiosely spreading his arms and looking to the ceiling overdramatically. "I just can't."
"What are you going to make?" asked Hinowa, ignoring her son for the time being.
"My mother taught me a few recipes," Zenshi said, surveying their purchases. "Ratatouille is one of them."
"I'm not familiar, but if you're up to making dinner, then please do." Hinowa smiled, and then immediately transformed into the scolding mother as soon as she turned to Seita. "Young man, you are going to eat all those vegetables whether you like it or not."
"But Mom!"
"No buts!"
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"The moving walkway is coming to an end. Please watch your step."
Jenhao very smoothly transitioned from rolling conveyor belt to the terminal corridor, followed by the rest of his foreign entourage.
"You know who he is?" asked Tsukuyo. "Who is he?" she demanded ardently. "Where is he?"
"Hold your horses, miss." Jenhao put up his hands, moving aside so they weren't blocking others. "I can't tell you very much here, but I can tell you that you might be slightly skewed in your endeavors. What is your purpose for seeking Raku?"
"He's a terrorist with known affiliation to the Harusame. We have reason to believe the Harusame's usin' him to plot against us on Earth to regain control of Yoshiwara."
"Yoshiwara?" echoed Jenhao. He suddenly broke his casual demeanor and stuttered slightly. "L-Lieutenant? Yoshiwara? I know you were residing in Edo, but not… The Harusame constantly patrols Yoshiwara. How did you manage to—"
"Mei was doing surveillance. You can guess the rest." Zenshi cast a wary glance over his shoulder, as if the lady in question would pop out of nowhere and take their heads. He wasn't all too happy with facilitating such a gory scene. "What do you know of Raku the Rapid?"
"In the first place," Jenhao reasoned, "Raku has nothing to do with the Harusame. I'm not quite sure what you're all talking about. The Harusame never hired anyone to bomb Yoshiwara."
"How do ya know?" spat Tsukuyo. Zenshi touched her forearm lightly, but the effort was futile.
"Because," Jenhao said, brandishing the flat, silver ring in his hand, "he's with us."
If you've forgotten, Sa-chan researched that the one who bombed Hinowa's home was Raku the Rapid.
Plot twists yayyyyyyyyy. uh.
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