Ahh I don't know...
Ch. 56: The city, Des Koyasus, like East and West Tomokaz, is a name play off of Takasugi Shinsuke's voice actor, Koyasu Takehito. (laughs)
Disclaimer: Sorachi.
OFFICIALLY NEARING THE END!
This is a cause for both despair and celebration!
Eyes of Wolves
- 59 -
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
The strange thing was, the three Hyakka women picked up on it before Tsukuyo did. In fact, they were strapped with spears and guns — little souvenirs from the rebel forces in case of emergency — by the front desk of the hotel-turned-base. The one who looked like Hotaru but might have been Chiyako broke into a grin.
"We can't have you leavin' our boss behind," she chirped, hands on her hips. "But we ain't gonna blow up a big plan, either. We'll cover for you up until that next block. But if she drags you back…"
Zenshi threw them a rare, wan smile, and pulled the cloak over his head. His abdomen throbbed and his ribs ached with each breath, but he'd downed a few small painkillers to last him for a while.
Mutsu, who had caught him the moment he left the room, had handed him a gun wordlessly. He brushed the barrel of the weapon, wedged in his belt, thinking absently of how she must feel. Her uncle, bent on a cruelly motivated type of revenge. Her cousin, stubborn because he had no real reason to be here (or did he?). Her crew, caught up in the middle of a vicious warzone, something akin to the continuation of a supposedly quieted civil war. Herself, mourning her mother yet receiving no answer.
She had once expressed a want to see her aunt, Zenshi's mother. Just to say hello.
But here she was, taking care of a curly-haired human man who couldn't seem to get his senses untangled but walked straighter than anyone.
"You'd better not die," she told him. "This isn't your show this time, so at least follow the script."
But he'd asked, very quietly, very solemnly:
"What script?"
And then he disappeared.
.: APRIL, FIVE MONTHS AGO :.
Had he been close to the man he'd just killed?
Was it just Kamui's lust for blood infecting him, spreading across his skin and his lungs and making him see nothing but an array of red?
There was no delineated boundary between himself and the Yato within. But he could imagine, couldn't he?
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"Nice of you to join me."
"Nice of you to invite me."
"I want my crew out of this mess just as much as you do, yes?"
"I suppose."
"You know, I'm a little tired of explaining."
"I'm sure you're not."
"I'd like to see you try and take my place. You'd want to get out of here, too."
"I would."
"So the sooner this is over, the sooner we leave. We'll be out of your hair."
"How exciting."
"And I assume you came here for the same reason?"
Kamui's face was an inseparable mixture of malice and sadism and pure amusement. He exchanged glances with the older Yato, trading coveted secrets without a word. But then Zenshi answered.
"Depends on the reason," he told the redhead.
"Of course." Kamui smiled, an expression dripping with predatory hunger.
"Don't get rid of Mei and Tabs," warned Zenshi. Kamui pretended not to hear.
"You don't suppose," he asked slowly, "that Sciuttlans bleed noxious fumes?"
.: -Rebel Headquarters- SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"Is it possible to travel to that point downtown in less than fifteen minutes?" asked Mei, pointing to the center screen from which Kamui had recently disappeared.
"Yes, of course," Uhuru answered, pointing out a route on a different screen as Tabs flashed up a map. "Why do you ask? Do you plan on going? The army forces have nearly reached this spot."
"They're doing a wide maneuver to locate us," Jenhao informed the room's occupants. "But they will hit the center square hard."
"How far are they?" asked Linter.
"Twenty percent engaged, starting at the air terminals, where they landed."
"Let's send out another—" Linter nearly bit his tongue, but deftly cut himself short. "Jenhao, forget what I just said."
"Sir?"
Kamui was up on the screen again, peering directly into the camera. He said something, but the camera wouldn't pick up a feed until Tabs turned it on. Even then, the voice was tinny and distant, almost inaudible.
"Dumb Danchou," hissed Mei, "come closer."
"Maybe he's afraid lasers will shoot out from the camera," joked Tabs.
"Both of you, hush up," Jenhao scolded.
But Kamui sidled closer to the camera, glancing from its lens to the street and back again. He gestured with his arms spread wide open, miming a hug. While this seemed to puzzle most of the spectators, his crewmen seemed to pick up the gist.
"He's doing reconnaissance," Abuto said. "They're doing the large sweep, like Tabs said."
Kamui glanced away. Now he was nodding and speaking towards an unseen figure, out of range of the camera.
"Is your crew out there?" Linter folded his arms, studying Kamui's body language. "He seems to be planning with someone."
Right then, Mei and Tabs exchanged glances. Mei casually slid into a position next to Tsukuyo and touched her arm briefly. Tabs scooped up the digital tablet and sidled over to Linter, awaiting the man's reaction.
"What're ya—"
Tsukuyo was cut short as Tabs adjusted the camera view.
Standing beside Kamui, wearing khaki trousers and a ridiculously green sweater, was someone who'd been right in their room fifteen or so minutes ago.
Zenshi.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"I'd say five minutes until they get here." Kamui, now sitting cross-legged and staring at the rebels' installed camera, could only guess as well as Zenshi could, both of them without anything except their five senses to tell them where and when the enemy might emerge.
"I hear you're traveling with an Anti-Foreigner faction group."
"I owe him one."
"That's strange, coming from you."
"The samurai are interesting." Kamui closed the topic with the dark smile he gave the camera. It didn't go unnoticed by Zenshi.
Neither really knew what they'd do when the army came.
But nonetheless, they waited.
.: MAY, FOUR MONTHS AGO :.
He would be lying if he said he did not enjoy her presence on those quietly stirring nights, the murmur of Yoshiwara beneath them. But he only wished the light was not from below, because it left what he could see of her in the darkness.
.: -Rebel Headquarters- SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
Kamui probably splattered blood on the camera just to frustrate them. Though Tabs was able to find a different angle, the new perspective offered little more than grimaces and hair-pulling.
"Ahaha, look at that," Sakamoto murmured. "Good thing we're not out there. The weather's terrible."
Mutsu gave him a good slap, but it made no difference to the man. On the other hand, Mei, who had grabbed Tsukuyo's arm as a precaution, was glad she did so, because the blonde courtesan very nearly exploded at the sight of Zenshi on the screen. Tabs, standing behind Linter, was glad that his former leader's father was professional enough and skilled enough to keep his composure. The amount of anxiety that leaked through his façade, however, was worrying.
"You know," Mei said, "I thought I could swear. But you, you're…"
She released Tsukuyo's arm.
"If he doesn't die out there, I'll kill'im," hissed Tsukuyo.
"Wise choice," Mei replied sardonically. Neither of them looked at the screen now. All it consisted of was Kamui bouncing from sidewalk to sidewalk, lopping off body parts with his classic smile. On the other hand, Zenshi was plowing through the center of the brigade, letting the sides dwindle by Kamui's hand. A closer look revealed that he struggled with every swing and every blow, but was steeled and tactful. Zenshi utilized his parasol to its fullest extent, guarding his still torn body. Though Yato healing engendered quick recovery, those were not wounds he could close up within three days. Mei, present at the hotel, knew full well that his broken ribs and open wounds had not mended completely. She was still feeling ripped up; she couldn't imagine what Zenshi felt.
"He's dumb as a rock," decided Tsukuyo. "Doesn't say a thing, and dumb as a rock."
"That's a great way to put it," Mei commented flatly. She was having a hard time deciding whether she liked this woman or not. Tsukuyo was haphazardly devoted, loyal to a fault. In fact, she was stubborn and willful and too similar to Mei for either of them to be truly comfortable. Mei, who was brash and headstrong, butted heads with the Earthling. But she was more blunt than anything else, while Tsukuyo maintained an imperious aloofness that the Yato girl couldn't quite achieve.
At the moment, however, Tsukuyo was reeling out frustrated comments in a fashion that Mei typically would have approved of, if they had been about anything else.
"Sciuttlans don't emit poison gas blood, do they?" Tabs asked out of the blue. Most people turned to stare at him. He shrunk back a little, despite his gallant efforts at the computer.
"We have a defense mechanism somewhat derived from other races," Uhuru told him calmly. "It does have a hallucinogenic effect. Why?"
All the Harusame Yato groaned in unison. Tabs laughed nervously, Jenhao rubbed his forehead, and Mei looked as if she had an itch she couldn't reach.
"Let's just say," Abuto pronounced slowly, "that this central brigade will be gone sooner than you expect it to be."
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
The more he fought, the faster he could move. His body limbered up and the pain subsided to a dull, sniffling throb. And the more he fought, the more it seemed like a competition between himself and Kamui. The idea of killing people — grotesque and immoral and disconcerting — became a blur.
Everything was a blur.
Everything was a trigger. The faster Kamui ran, the faster he ran.
Relentless.
.: MAY, FOUR MONTHS AGO :.
He asked her who taught her to fight. She was reluctant, but he wheedled the story out of her gently. In a moment of impulsive generosity, she told him the little details, everything from the time she was thrown into a dark room for misbehaving, the time Hinowa made her pretty little onigiri. And how, after that, she had tried to return the favor for the sun of Yoshiwara, and has ever since been the balanced counterpart. She told him the story of a spider's web, of a master. Zenshi could tell that in her voice, she held a sort of love for that master, forlorn and distant.
Perhaps he would ask again, some other time, and then she might tell him of the holocaust that nearly took down Yoshiwara in flames, of the friends she had made and the people she had met, of the pinkie promises and the goodbyes, of sakura petals floating gently down on two lovers who would never be separated again.
Perhaps.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
He was jolted back to his senses as soon as he reached the end of the first wave, the only impediment a cement monument erected in the middle of East Tomokaz. He whirled around and could hardly take in the destruction he'd left in his wake. Littered bodies like an endless sea of meaningless deaths.
He didn't have time to think.
Kamui grabbed him by the throat.
.: -Rebel Headquarters- SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
There was no stopping them once they began to run. If Jenhao hadn't moved first, Tsukuyo wouldn't have gone. If Tsukuyo hadn't followed, Jenhao probably wouldn't have kept running. But as the human and the Yato brushed past the three helpless Hyakka waiting outside and standing guard, there was nothing to do but keep going and wait for others to join them.
"You can't get there in under fifteen minutes," protested Abuto. "That knucklehead took one of the cars."
But neither took heed of his words. In fact, poor Abuto had spurred both Tabs and Mei to leap into action behind Tsukuyo and Jenhao.
The room was left deleteriously silent.
"I can tell you are debating whether or not to go," Uhuru said quietly to Linter. Papers were gripped tightly in one hand, while her other clutched a pendant at her neck. "I shall send more troops. You needn't sully your hands."
Linter chuckled. "I am a diplomat before I am a father, but I am a father before I am a Yato. Which makes no sense at all, because the last two both tell me I should follow them."
"You would not be unwise to stay or go."
"No, I would not be unwise. I'd be downright stupid."
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
Zenshi's elbow was in prime position to take out Kamui's nose, but the salmon-haired boy was quick enough to read those intentions.
"So did we come here for the same reason, or didn't we?" asked the younger Yato, crouching and studying the Amanto blood beneath his nails. It certainly didn't belong to Zenshi, seeing as splinters of dried blood were caking off of Kamui's hands in black shards. It was clearly foreign, and the wet hiss the dried blood emitted as Kamui scraped it from his knuckles riled both of them.
Zenshi was impassive. Kamui had come for three reasons: the first was to finish this convoluted business, the second was to have an excuse for a mighty killing spree, and the third was to finish off Zenshi with a vengeful finality.
"No." Zenshi was here to end this conflict, to help this rebels. He had little personal gain save the fact that he, too, could get out of the mess the sooner the entire issue was resolved.
"Say hello to my mother for me," Kamui called, lunging for Zenshi's neck again.
"Say hello to my foot, Admiral Nincompoop!"
Mei came hurtling from the sky, her heel nearly colliding with Kamui's face. Another missed chance at forever rearranging Kamui's nose.
Zenshi shot her a look that screamed, "What are you doing here?"
"Don't ask me." Mei shrugged. "Ask them."
As a smaller army squad rounded the corner, Jenhao, Tabs, and Tsukuyo quite unexpectedly burst from hidden alleys and leapt into the fray. Zenshi, simply by glancing over their fighting stances, suddenly realized exactly why each of them were there.
Mei, for Zenshi and for her brash commander.
Tabs, for Mei and Zenshi.
Jenhao, for the late Ensign Delong.
Tsukuyo, for Zenshi.
And they all truly just wanted to go home, even if home meant floating to nowhere in the middle of space, even if home meant chasing down looters in Yoshiwara, even if home meant never really finding a place to be, so long as the people they cherished were there.
Suddenly, Zenshi recalled an old, baby blue umbrella he had as a small child. The last time he recalled it, it was seven years ago, when his mother was in the middle of mending and decorating it. Inexplicably, the little umbrella, as cheerful as the sky, tugged relentlessly on him.
Zenshi, too, wanted to go home,
But this time, he would show someone that little blue umbrella.
He would show Tsukuyo.
author's warning: I am a sucker for cheesy romance. Watch out.
It's cheesy. It's coming. It's...
fondue.
NOTE: Chapter 60 will be the last chapter.
and it will be a long one.
Get ready.
This is all or nothing.
We're going home.