Story Warnings: Some violence and strong language. Mentions of deceased OCs.
Disclaimer: If you recognize any names, terms, or concepts it's because they don't belong to me.
Chapter 8 - Jaunt
Furuichi felt a small grin tug at his lips, unbidden. Almost like home, he thought, eyeing the hi-jackers Oga had planted into the scorching asphalt road. He glanced around surreptitiously and saw that the large American they had rescued was occupied with shouting excitedly into Oga's face, and knelt down quickly to press his hands to the firearms Oga had knocked to the ground. Within moments, the plastic and metal bodies began to creak and scream with cold and a quick smack against the road had them shattering irreparably. Furuichi stood smoothly, brushed the desert dust off his jeans, and made his way back over to Oga.
The man was still shouting excitedly, but louder now, as though volume was a decent substitute for actual knowledge of a foreign language. Oga and Furuichi stared blankly, before turning to each other simultaneously.
Oi, Furuichi, say something, Oga's glance said.
What the hell am I supposed to say? I haven't taken English since middle school! You know, back when we actually had teachers? Furuichi's eyes seethed back.
Say anything! You're supposed to be good at shit like this, right? Acting smart?
Ahh, good point, good point.
"Ah, hello. My name Takayuki. What you name?" said the teen, smiling encouragingly.
The man stared blankly, uncomprehending, unable to parse the thick accent. He coughed a bit into his fist and glanced away uncomfortably.
Need help, brat? Hecadoth intoned lazily. And why were you so worked up at first about speaking to me nonverbally? You do it with your friend just fine.
It's not the same, Furuichi argued with all the logic and self-assuredness of a teenager. But never mind that. How can you help?
I'm letting Laymia hi-jack our connection, okay? My English isn't great, but she can translate better. Give it a minute.
And there was suddenly a great empty void in the back of Furuichi's skull where Hecadoth's vague presence had once resided. He sucked in a sharp breath at the strange feeling, and then cringed at the noise that began emanating from that void.
Is that…elevator music? Hecadoth what the fuck, did you just put me on hold?!
There was no response, and Furuichi was left seething as Oga and the American both stared at him expectantly.
Furuichi, are you there? came Laymia's voice finally, vaguely distorted and sounding as though it was a great distance away.
Laymia?
Oh good, it worked. Hecadoth mentioned you were having trouble with a language. If you let me listen in, I can translate what they're saying and tell you what to say.
Furuichi gestured to the American to continue speaking, smiling again and waving his hand at the man, who stared at him very strangely before speaking again, slowly at first but picking up in speed and volume, as seemed to be the norm for him. Laymia listened through Furuichi's ears as the man continued to jabber incomprehensibly.
Oh my, he's got quite a crude accent, but I believe he's asking if there's anything he can do to repay you. Here, repeat after me…
"Well met, hearty traveler! Alas, this cruel world hath conspired 'gainst us, and thus we are lost, as a fallen leaf upon a mighty gale. Mayhap thou couldst offer mine churlish ally and I direction?" Furuichi smiled charmingly, tongue thick around the unfamiliar syllables.
"Er. You… You fellas want a ride, maybe? Least I can do for saving my life."
"Aye, if it please thee, we do accept, kind sir!" This demon translation thing was great, Furuichi thought gleefully. Hilda made a strange coughing sound behind him. She was totally impressed, he decided, as he and Oga hopped up into the man's truck.
"Haha! You're a strange one, alright. What did you say your name was?" Michael called over the booming radio.
Furuichi turned a blinding grin on Oga. It worked!
Oga gave him a thumbs up and a solemn nod – As expected of Furuichi, his eyes said – and Furuichi turned back to the man, whose words Laymia had just translated into Japanese for him.
"You may call me Takayuki, good sir! And this is – "
"Fuck," Oga interjected, eager to join in with the only English word he knew. Furuichi almost gaped at him, but then thought better of it – he wasn't actually that surprised, after all.
"Bwahaha! What a funny name! Whew, you Japanese fellas are great," Michael snickered, wiping a tear from his eye. "Anyways, here we are in my truck, and I've got no damn idea where you boys are even headed!"
"The City of Angels beckons us, sir," Furuichi said.
"L.A., huh? Well, you're in luck! I'm headed there m'self. Can't make it there today, of course, it's still a good nine hours driving. I know a good place to stop for the night, though. Best lasagna for a hundred miles! Haha! Oh, wait, this's a great song! Wooo~ Route Sixty-Six!"
Furuichi and Oga stared. I'm sorry, Furuichi, but I can't quite tell what he's saying… Laymia offered tentatively.
That's okay. I don't think he's really expecting a response, now.
Two hours later, Furuichi was quite sure his left ear would never be quite the same. Oga and Beel had managed to fall into dozing – the lucky bastards – and Hilda had not shown her face for the entirety of the drive, but judging by the strange scuffling and creaking from the top of the cab, she had made herself at home above them.
"Well, here we are, fellas!" Michael crowed as they pulled to a stop. It took Laymia a moment to realize that he had begun speaking coherently again, and she rushed to translate for her contractor. "Home sweet home, s'what I call it. Mm, can't wait to dig in! You boys'll love it."
"Sir Michael, thy kindness doth know no bound. That you make us welcome at thine hearth and table is a true blessing. Yea, Sir, we are blessed by thee!"
Michael chuckled. "Heh, you're a real jokester, kid. It's not a problem. Well, I hope the rest of the town doesn't give you a bad impression, we've fallen on some hard times, lately," he finished somberly, gesturing to the run-down and graffitied buildings. Furuichi waited a moment for Laymia to finish translating and was about to question the man when a screech echoed through the night.
"Brenda!" Michael yelled, breaking into run. He was surprisingly spry for his size and age, and Oga and Furuichi hurried after him to the front door of the house they'd already been approaching. Just as they reached the yard, a young woman came rushing out of the house and clung to Michael's arm.
She yelled back, emboldened by the man's presence, at a set of thugs who followed her out. As far as Furuichi was able to tell, she was threatening the men in some way, although Laymia was not able to provide an interpretation of what, exactly, a 'line-backer' was, and which Michael had apparently forgotten he used to be.
Perhaps some type of military reinforcement, Laymia contemplated. Furuichi was starting to question her abilities as a translator. But then he looked at Oga, who apparently felt that punching people in the face was the best way to communicate as he readily disposed of the thugs and then moved on to Michael's son, and was too grateful for words to the demoness. He felt her preen in his mind.
"Hah! Yep, you guys sure are useful to have around," Michael exclaimed later as they all sat around the dinner table, finishing up his tale of how Oga had saved him from several armed hi-jackers. "You'll be ready to head out first thing in the morning, yeah? I've got a schedule to keep, and I've gotta make sure there's time to get you boys where you need to go."
"Verily! We shall venture forth on the morrow in pursuit of those craven villains of the Solomon Company. Let the rising sun bear witness!" Furuichi said, enthused. And all sound came to a screeching halt.
"Did you say… the Solomon Company?" Michael said slowly. Furuichi frowned concernedly.
"A-Aye?"
"Please leave. Right now. We can't be involved in that business," Brenda said, her tone cold and closed-off. Duran, her brother and apparent redeemed thug, was staring at them darkly.
"The Solomon Company brings nothing but trouble. If you've got business with them, you're only bringing more trouble to our doorstep, and we won't have it. So get the hell out," Duran growled, taking a threatening step towards them. Oga stood up and made to shove the man back, but Furuichi rushed forward and gripped his friend's arm.
"You can't hit him, Oga, not when we're guests in their house. Even if they're kicking us out now, Michael gave us a ride and some food, so we should be grateful. Come on, let's go," Furuichi hissed, pulling at Oga's arm. He turned to the Americans still sitting uncomfortably at the table.
"Thine hospitality, while it lasted, was most appreciated. Sir Michael, Lady Brenda, Sir Duran, we do wish you the best," he said with a bow, turning to drag Oga away.
"Agh, hold up, fellas, I'll walk you out," Michael sighed resignedly, hefting himself out of his chair and walking with them out into the night. "Please don't think we ain't grateful for the help, but…"
"We get it. They've done some nasty shit, huh?" Oga grunted.
"Aye, sir, thine family must come first– wait," Furuichi started, turning to Oga. "When the hell did you start speaking English?!" he screeched, slipping back into Japanese.
"Hilda gave me this translator ear piece a while back," he said, pulling a small black bud from his left ear. "I dunno where you learned English, Furuichi, but you sound like a moron. It's hilarious," said Furuichi's best friend in the world, with a straight face and thumb's up.
"You sonuva–"
"Er, fellas?"
"What?" they barked in unison at the startled man. Quickly recalling the situation, Furuichi offered a sheepish, apologetic grin and accepted another one of the translation ear buds from Hilda, who snorted at him in mocking amusement.
"So how'd they fuck you guys over?" Oga asked gruffly.
Michael heaved a huge, exhausted sigh and turned away from them. He stared out into the distance with the air of a man with far too much to say, and no idea how to convey it all. After a moment, he began to speak.
"The Solomon Company moved out here years back, built that big factory you can see in the distance. At first we thought it would be our saving grace, having that much work available. But horrible things started happening. Workers coming down with strange illnesses, mysterious accidents… And of course the only doctor around worked for the Company, too, so he could charge however much he wanted. Only way to pay him back was to keep working in that place, and keep risking injury.
"Well, people started getting the impression they'd been had, but it turned out the work contracts were all full of loopholes no one around here was educated enough to notice when they signed 'em, so there was no way to duck out or quit without serious consequences. Couldn't even take vacation time or get compensation for work injuries, not with all that fine print. Whole time, of course, they were recruiting our kids and bringing in punks from out of town. Gangs started springing up, bribed by the Company to enforce their rules on our town. Any complaints about the Company's business, any questions about how legal those contracts were got put down real fast, real hard.
"We were stuck with 'em, well and good, and it was around the time we were resigned to that, that people started disappearing. Just, they'd go in to work one day, and never come home again. Police got called in and left within the day – something about the Company scared 'em too much to do any kind of investigation. Still don't know what happened to those people, probably never will. Not too sure I'd like to know, to be honest. My wife was one of those, but if something horrible happened to her… Well, I'd just as soon like my kids to think she passed nice and easy. Whether that's true or not."
Furuichi was staring in horror. He knew that the Solomon Company was dealt in bad business and that everyone involved with them got screwed over in major ways, but the scope of what they'd done to this town… Furuichi couldn't find the words for it, and neither could Oga, if the way he had just kicked a hole in a concrete dividing wall was any indication. He looked back at Michael, who was still staring forlornly into the distance. Furuichi didn't think he had ever seen such a lonely figure.
"If we get the chance to learn what happened to your wife and the others, do you want us to let you know, Michael?" he said tentatively, feeling uncomfortable for breaking the heavy silence that had descended on the night.
"…I think I'll leave that up to you. It's been near on fifteen years since they took her from us and I could do with some closure, but I couldn't take it if the details ain't pretty. And even though I'm not around as often as I'd like to be, my kids still need at least one parent in their lives." The finality of Michael's words sent chills down Furuichi's spine.
"I'll find out what happened to her, Michael. I promise. And I promise we'll take them down, make them pay for what they've done." He hoped he hadn't just lied to the man.
"…I'd be much obliged, Takayuki, Fuck."
"Alright," Oga interjected baldly. "Let's go beat the shit out of 'em." He began trudging unceremoniously towards the silhouette of the factory at the end of the street. Furuichi and Hilda instinctively joined him on either side.
"Wuh– Wait! Just like that? Hey now, those guys are dangerous, you can't just storm in there! It ain't that easy!" Michael called, puffing after them.
"…I guess it was that easy," Michael said quietly as he stared at the carnage wrought on the factory and the gang inhabiting it. He was slumped against a pile of old tires, looking shaken. Furuichi grinned beside him.
"Nah, Oga's just a monster. If you or any of the other people here had tried it, you probably would've lost."
It had been the work of mere moments for Oga to utterly demolish the King's Jokers gang and to send their leader flying over the roof of the factory. Finally satisfied with the level of violence, Oga proceeded to question the fallen thugs – those who were still conscious, anyway. Furuichi was disappointed, but not particularly surprised, to learn that none of them knew anything of substance.
"Oi! Come on, help me find the boss. He's gotta know more, right?" Oga called. Furuichi jerked around and nodded, jogging after him as Oga and Hilda headed towards the other side of the building.
"Wait here, Michael! We'll be back in a bit," he called over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of the still-dazed man nodding at him.
They rounded the corner of the building and there, several yards away, Corey lay groaning on the ground, his clothes sizzling and smelling faintly of barbeque. When he saw them approaching, he let out a high, whining moan and struggled to right himself. When he failed to rise, he began to claw weakly at the ground in an attempt to crawl away. Before he could move even a yard, Oga planted a foot squarely on his back, pinning him in place. Hilda crouched beside him, her sword pressed against his throat, and Furuichi circled around and knelt in front of the American.
"Please," Corey gasped desperately, his eyes roving wildly with terror. Furuichi was reminded vaguely of a panicked bull, like the Taurus he was contracted with, and wouldn't have been surprised if the man began frothing at the mouth. "Please don't kill me! They made me do it, I'm– I'm innocent here, just a victim! I didn't want to hurt anybody, but I couldn't get away! Please, please, oh God I don't want to die–"
He trailed off at the disgusted look on Furuichi's face. "We're not murderers, not like you guys. Tell us where the factory's records are kept."
"Yeah! Yeah, of course, it's all in the overseer's office. Third floor, at the end of the hallway. There's a bunch of filing cabinets and a computer that connects to the Company's intranet."
Furuichi stared at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. He glanced up at Oga and they shared a brief nod.
"I don't think you're lying," he said finally. "You're square with us." Corey's body sagged visibly with relief. "But don't think you're in the clear. You and your gang did some really horrible shit to this town, and I'm sure they'll want revenge, but that's not our business."
"So you can either stay here and accept your lynching by angry mob," Hilda added coolly, "or you can start crawling." She pointed sharply out into the dark, barren landscape.
"H-hey, come on now, guys. We're in the middle of a fucking desert. There's nothing around–" he cut off sharply as Hilda's blade pressed into his neck. A thin line of blood trickled down and stained the collar of his jacket.
"Should've thought of that before you decided to terrorize a town way out in the sticks like this one," Oga snarled. "You know what they say about small town justice."
"Oh God," Corey whispered. His face fell into the dusty ground and his body began to tremble as Oga stepped off of him. "Wait! Wait, take me with you. I can– I can show you to the Company Headquarters! You won't find an address in that office, I promise, only one for a puppet facility. And then– and then I'll turn myself in, I swear! Just please, don't leave me out here. You said you weren't murderers, right?"
Furuichi sighed, stared at Oga who stared back. Hilda clicked her tongue and looked away with a sneer – she was never merciful, and Furuichi was inclined to agree with her at the moment.
"I don't want to waste time searching if the real address isn't in that office," Oga grunted. "Beel wants to see his mom soon." At that, Furuichi could see Hilda break.
"Yes yes, we'll take him with us," she agreed disdainfully. Behind them, Corey began to sob with relief.
"We still need those records, though, to find out what happened to the people here," Furuichi said. The words had scarcely left his lips before Hilda was gone, jumping straight up onto the roof of the factory and then slipping into an upper floor window. Moments later he was ducking for cover as filing cabinets began to rain from the window, imbedding themselves into the packed earth.
"This was all I could find. The computer was crashed, though," Hilda said, joining them once again. "You can go through these, but hurry. I don't want to delay meeting the mistress any longer."
"I can't–" read English, he started to say, but was cut off as Laymia reasserted her presence in his mind.
If you let me see through your eyes, I can translate for you, she offered.
…Er. It seems like your English is a little, um, outdated, he thought tentatively. He received a reluctant sigh in return.
I admit the speech patterns I'm accustomed to have not been commonly used for the past several hundred years, but I can still interpret those documents for you.
Mmnh. Yeah, okay, thanks, he said, then began to flick through the yellowed sheets in one of the cabinets, listening as the demoness rattled off the information contained therein.
"It looks like expense reports, mostly… Nothing about the employees," Furuichi murmured as he thumbed through a water-stained file. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. While he regretted not being able to give Michael closure at the moment, he was also beyond thankful that he wouldn't have to tell the man his wife had been tortured to death or something. When he brought the news to him, Michael seemed similarly conflicted, and for similar reasons.
"Well, I reckon we better shove off," Michael said, staring across the horizon where the dawning sun was beginning to paint the night sky with gold and turquoise. He was carefully massaging his knuckles, bruised from planting his fist in Corey's face as a small retribution after they brought the thug and the information back around front.
Furuichi gave the man a grim, determined smile beside Oga's solemn nod. They were all silent for a long moment, anticipation welling at the thought of what the following day could bring.
And then:
"Hey Furuichi! Check it out, it's a real tumbleweed!"
"Oh shit, wait, lemme get my phone… Here, take a picture!"
"Hurry up, bird!" Furuichi called. It had been several hours since Michael had ushered them all into his truck just as the sun was making its appearance, with Corey on his bike ready to lead them into the city.
Their arrival into Los Angeles had been heralded with a volley of gunfire as a man in a dark suit pulled his bike up next to Corey's and shot him in the head with a sawed-off shotgun (Furuichi had been nothing but neutral at Hilda's assertion that he survived thanks to his demon). Oga's retaliation against the attack had ended up demolishing Michael's truck, but leaving the assailant completely uninjured.
He had been beyond frustrated at seeing his best friend walk into that building alone, but Hilda was able to offer a fast solution. Furuichi considered that he might have preferred a slower solution, if it meant he didn't have to cling to the wing joint of a giant reptilian bird several hundred feet in the air, closing in on the skyscraper home to the Solomon Company.
"Stop yelling, Furuichi! Ak-baba can't go any faster than this. We're almost there, so just hang on. Or don't, I don't really ca–" her caustic voice was cut off by a great percussive THOOM, as the windows of one floor all shattered in a burst of sparking yellow energy, raining glass and debris onto the street below.
"Young Master! Madam Iris!" Hilda cried as they descended into the dark of the building. Furuichi ducked into a roll as the bird came to a sudden stop, covering his face with his forearms to protect himself from glass shards and debris. He shook off and righted himself, eyes dancing frantically to take in the scene. Oga, his arm a bleeding, torn mess, towering over the fallen form of the man who had attacked them. Baby Beel, beaten and dirty, squealing triumphantly on Oga's shoulder. And there, on the ground, a slender, pale woman with long dark hair was collapsed on beside an overturned wheelchair, a large burn wound marring her forehead.
"Oga! And that's Beel's mom…?" Furuichi murmured to himself.
"Beelze… You've gotten really big," the frail woman on the floor was saying tremulously, tears making tracks in the blood and dust that coated her face.
"Ai! Aidah buu!" Beel cooed at the woman from over Oga's shoulder, grabbing at Oga's collar and kicking his pudgy legs, asking to be put down. Very slowly, Oga reached around to pick up the infant and placed him gently on the ground. He knelt down and dragged his hand through the child's green hair, scratching around his ears and then ruffling hard enough to make the small head duck down.
"Go," Oga said quietly, with eyes for no one but the child before him. "Go on, along with your mother. If what she said is true, then my job here is done, so go back to the demon world with her." He paused a bit, and a faint smile broke across his chapped lips. "Heh, you looked like a real man just now trying to protect your mother, Beel. Good job."
And with that he stood, turned his back on the child he'd raised for a year, and began to walk away. Immediately Beel was rushing after him, whimpering and with fat tears running from his eyes.
"Hey, didn't we make a deal all that time ago? That you wouldn't cry?"
"Da Da! Dada! Dada!" the infant wailed, crawling after his father across the broken floor to grab at his pant legs. But Oga kept walking.
"This past year spent with you was nothing but trouble, but… It was a fun ride," Oga whispered hoarsely, fists clenched tightly. He glanced to the side, as though to turn back to the child, but could not bring himself to complete the motion. But the shift was more than enough for Furuichi, standing frozen beside Hilda in front of the shattered window front, to see a glimmer in his eyes.
And then Furuichi saw red. A snarl blooming on his face, he stalked up to Oga and punched him squarely across the jaw. The hit wasn't strong enough to make the teen stumble or fall back, but it was enough to snap his face to the side and to make Furuichi's knuckles throb with pain. Oga's head slowly cranked back around, a brutal, bloodthirsty grimace on his face, contrasting oddly with the red mark on his cheek that was sure to bruise.
"Oi, Furuichi. Since when do you have a death wish…?"
"Shut the hell up, Oga. Don't you fucking dare abandon that child," Furuichi hissed shoving his face right up in front of Oga's. Maybe Furuichi did not know the pain of losing a loved one in this lifetime, but he had lost everything in his past one, and the thought of this bastard throwing away such an incredibly precious bond out of some pathetic cowardice, disguised as a misplaced attempt at maturity and selflessness, filled him with rage.
"You… You said to me a while ago that I was being a coward about not accepting a demon contract because I was afraid of discovering that no one would want me. But damn it, now you're doing the same fucking thing! You're afraid that your son will choose his mother over you, so you're abandoning him before he can do that. How dare you put the burden on your child to choose between his parents! It's his right to have both parents in his life, if he wants!
"But you know what? Even if he does eventually choose his mother over you, you have to be there for him regardless. Because that's what being a parent's about, supporting your child selflessly, at your own expense. You accepted that responsibility when you claimed him as your son! So tell me, Oga Tatsumi. Are you going back on your word now? Have you become a coward?"
Furuichi fumed, stared into his friend's eyes, and awaited a response.
Please excuse my gross bastardization of Shakespearean English. (except I'm not really sorry).
To be honest, I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I felt pretty constrained by following Tamura's plot (which is excellent in its own right), not really sure how much detail to include about what was already portrayed in the manga. Future updates will read less like the original story with a few details tweaked and added. Speaking of coming chapters, alas, we are coming to a close. There will be two, maybe three more, depending on how I decide to handle the fight with Fuji.
Also, might I just say that the Beelzebub spinoff is sort of everything I never knew I wanted in a spinoff.