Chapter 5
Seri Awashima was just getting out of her car, when a person, walking on the other side of the street, stopped and looked up. They exclaimed in surprise and pointed towards the Mihashira Tower, getting the attention of somebody who accompanied them. Around them, more people looked up and some also exclaimed, some pointed. A few took out their phones to take pictures or call and Seri decided to look as well.
For a moment she wondered if there was somebody wanting to jump. She could almost imagine Fushimi snapping from boredom and threatening the captain with suicide if his mission wasn't reassigned. But the amused smile that stretched her lips at that mental image immediately faded when she saw what was hovering above the Mihashira Tower.
The Sword of Damocles.
Far simpler than all the Swords Seri was more familiar with, this one was black, with a short hilt and a cross-guard. Its clean-cut, prismatoid blade gleamed like glass or crystal in the daylight and the dark stone in the middle looked and reflected light like a diamond would, if diamonds were almost black. Beyond any doubt it was the Sword of Damocles of the Colourless King.
She heard a gasp, only a split of a second later realizing it was her who gasped. Memories of the last Colourless King flashed through her thoughts unbidden and she couldn't help but worry: what if the new Colourless King was just as problematic? Could they deal with both the Green and Colourless Kings with the forces they currently had? What if the Colourless King joined the Green King?
Without looking away, she grabbed her PDA and dialled Fushimi. He didn't pick up, but few seconds afterwards, a general message from him, requesting medical help in the Slate chamber, came through her earpiece. Seri let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding: whatever happened, Fushimi was alright.
A reply to Fushimi, transmitted on the general frequency, confirmed the despatch of the medical response team. A description of the emergency was requested, but Seri didn't really listen anymore: she was dialling the captain's number, to report on the new development.
Understandably, the captain said he was arriving as soon as possible. And in the meantime, before heading upstairs to check the situation out, Seri dialled one more number.
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After spending the night in their student room and realizing that rice crackers and white rice made for a very poor meal, the female Strain all but dragged him to HOMRA's bar. On the way she explained that she has been staying there ever since Kuroh Yatogami got kidnapped by the Green clan and maybe they could stay there some more, until their group's resident cook came back. The Silver King said nothing, but the female Strain never really required any answers, so it wasn't a problem. She simply kept talking cheerfully, jumping from topic to topic with dizzying speed, obviously thrilled to have her Shiro back.
'Shiro, Shiro, look,' the female Strain exclaimed, pointing to a shop's window, where cute toys were displayed. The Silver King smiled and patted her head lightly, taking in the display. She snuggled closer to him in a very cat-like manner. 'Shiro, Shiro, can we go there later?' she asked, putting on what must have been her cutest, pleading expression.
He felt "Shiro" inside him. The persona he has created over those days, first under the Strain's mental control then on his own, was something like him in his childhood: kind and caring and infinitely optimistic, despite the stressful times in which he came to live. But now, that he has regained all his memories, he wasn't quite completely "Shiro". He was Adolf K Weismann, the man who has attained the power of Gods but lost everything he held dear. The man who has escaped the reality and has spent years upon years in voluntary isolation, only communicating with his closest friend from time to time. He could no longer ignore those memories or how they shaped him.
Therefore, he couldn't bring himself to care about the female Strain quite as much as "Shiro" naively had, because he knew that, ultimately, she would age, wither and die. And he would continue, forever alone. The more attached he grew to her and others now the more he would hurt watching them pass on. That was the main reason why he has hesitated to come back to Earth after the lieutenant has died. Probably, if Nagare Hisui hasn't been plotting something potentially extremely dangerous, he would have stayed away. To not see his friends, "Shiro's" friends die.
'Shiro?' the Strain asked uncertainly and the Silver King realized that he has forgotten to answer her question. He smiled and promised they would visit the shop on the way back from HOMRA's bar. It seemed enough and the girl launched into another monologue about what she and the Black Dog have done while searching for him.
The Silver King thought about his faithful knight. It was most unfortunate that the Black Dog has been kidnapped. When he has jumped out of the Himmelreich he hasn't even considered that his tiny clan would have been incomplete when he landed. He hasn't thought there was anybody in Tokyo, with the exception of the Blue King, and perhaps the Green King, who could have defeated the Black Dog. Not that there was anything he could have done: if he was to trust the Strain, Kuroh Yatogami's kidnapping happened more less at the same time as the lieutenant's death and there was no question as to who was more important to the Silver King.
'Shiro, Shiro, we're going to find Kurosuke, right?' the Strain asked, having finished her story. The Silver King looked at her to see genuine worry in her mismatched eyes. He smiled sadly and patted her head.
'Of course,' he said, because he knew that was what she wanted to hear. It was what she expected from "Shiro" and she smiled hopefully when he said it.
If we ever find the Green clan's hiding place, he thought. If Sceptre 4 hasn't yet found it, with all the resources and Fushimi's hacking skills, the Silver King didn't see what he could do. In the privacy of his own thoughts, he actually hoped that the Black Dog would find the way to escape and join them. But it was a faint hope, since the Green clan had somebody who outmatched his faithful knight. Somebody whom, according to the Strain, the Black Dog knew from his past.
'I'm sure Anna will help us,' the Strain added. 'She's really good at finding people, you know. And she knew you were ok. She gave me a bead where I could see you, so I knew as well,' she explained, not making much sense.
'You mean Anna Kushina, yes? She's the new Red King, isn't she?' he asked. He did remember the Red clan's Strain, or rather remembered that she had some sort of location ability. It has been very problematic, back in the time when he was running away from their blood thirst, when HOMRA thought "Shiro" has killed their friend.
To their excuse, it has been "Shiro's" body that has done the deed. He could just hope that the Red clansmen remembered it was the Colourless King and not the Silver King who has been in the control of that small, fragile body. Especially as the entrance to the bar loomed at the nearest corner and the Strain pulled him to walk faster enthusiastically.
Luckily, the bar was almost empty. Izumo Kusanagi looked up at them when the door opened and hid his surprise, but not fast enough for the Silver King to not notice. He welcomed them, barely audible through the Strain's loud demand of breakfast.
'We're not a diner, you know,' he complained, rolling his eyes when the Strain demanded pancakes with plenty of chocolate sauce. 'That's not something you should have for breakfast!' he protested, but his words fell on deaf ears.
'Can I have some too?' Anna Kushina called out from her seat on the comfy looking sofa. The Strain immediately went to sit with her, telling her about how good it was to have Shiro back. The Silver King smiled up at the bartender.
'I'm sorry for this. Will it be a big problem?' he asked politely. 'I wanted to go to a diner, but Neko insisted that the only person whose food she likes now that Kuroh's gone, is you,' he added, mindful to call the Strain by her name, like Shiro has always done. Kusanagi gave him a strange look, before assuring him that making food for two more people wasn't that much of an issue.
'I'll try to whip up something more appropriate for breakfast as well, since Anna is a growing child and needs a proper, balanced diet,' he said. The Silver King didn't even have to fake the soft smile that stretched his lips: it was touching to see how the Red clansman cared about his young King.
He thanked Kusanagi and bowed the way Daikaku has taught him ages ago. For some reason, it got him another puzzled look from the bartender, but no questions or comments followed. Probably, the Silver King mused, he should act less formal: the way Shiro would.
While Kusanagi went to prepare the food, the Silver King turned to where the Strain and the Red King were sitting, watching four, red beads turn in circles on the map of the Shizume city. In a quiet tone, the Strain told him they were looking for Kuroh and for a moment the Silver King thought that problem will be solved quickly. But when the beads started to slow down, it was clear they wouldn't meet in one place.
'Why doesn't it work?' he asked, carefully hiding his disappointment from his voice. Probably, this wasn't the first time the Red King has done it, so if it was as simple as that, Kuroh would have already been recovered.
'He could be off the map,' Anna Kushina replied simply. 'If he is asleep or unconscious, the beads will have problems finding him as well.'
'Neko said you couldn't find me when I was away,' he started, wondering how much the Red King was willing to share about her abilities.
'You were in the sky, weren't you?' the little girl half-asked, half-stated. Not waiting for his reply, she told him that she could only really find people who were on the ground or not far from it, like in a building. She didn't know why. It was interesting to know, the Silver King thought, while the Strain asked the Red King to try again.
'Food first,' announced Kusanagi, coming up with two, large plates, full with triangular sandwiches. The Strain squealed happily. 'This is an English bar, so I made you English sandwiches! I have here: egg and mayo, ham and butter and some coronation chicken. Dig in kids.'
The Silver King didn't bother pointing out that he was far older than Kusanagi. He was too busy grabbing a sandwich and, following the bartender's instructions, digging in. It was good.
'I also have some news,' Kusanagi added, tone growing serious, successfully getting the Silver and Red King's attention. 'It appears that the Dresden Slate has nominated a new, Colourless King.'
The Red King gasped in surprise, making the Silver King glance at her briefly. Why was- Ah yeah, not everybody knew as much as him about the Slate.
'I think the Slate doesn't like to leave vacant positions for long,' he said in the most casual tone he could manage. Immediately, he felt Kusanagi look at him and wondered what was wrong with his statement: was it the tone? Did he use wording Shiro wouldn't?
'That can't be quite right, now, can it? The Grey King has died in the Kagutsu incident. That was quite some time ago,' the bartender pointed out. The Silver King looked up at him, honestly surprised.
'What about the Gold King?' the Red King asked, breaking the silence that fell after the bartender's statement. The Silver King sighed.
They deserved to know, he thought. Well, they needed to know.
'Maybe we could arrange a meeting and introduce ourselves to the new, Colourless King?' he suggested, wondering if anybody else felt a shiver run down their spines at the memories of the previous Colourless King.
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The Colourless King was back. Yukari has asked Nagare Hisui to check Sceptre 4's communication lines, somehow knowing that something happened, and the Green King confirmed it and even shown them the image of the Sword of Damocles hanging over the Mihashira Tower. As if that wasn't enough, some Jungle members also uploaded photos on the game's server.
Unwilling to get up or look at his captors any longer, Kuroh rolled to lay on his back, trying to figure out what the return of the Colourless King meant to him. Nagare Hisui was enthusiastic about one more player joining the game. The priest and Sukuna started a guessing game of how the new King looked like. Yukari was surprisingly quiet. And Kuroh? It didn't really matter, did it? He was a prisoner of the Green clan, kept for reasons he couldn't fully understand, like a pet. He has completed Master Ichigen's mission, in a way, although a part of him wished that he could judge also that new King.
The thought that the Colourless King could be evil hurt. The idea that they would tarnish the memory of Ichigen Miwa twisted his insides with worry and nausea.
However.
There was nothing he could do, other than hearing the Green clan plot and plan and wonder what the ability of the 9th Colourless King was and whether they would be as easy to manipulate as the 8th Colourless King has been. Some part of Kuroh wanted to ask for explanation of that, but he stayed silent, watching the distant ceiling. It didn't matter anymore, anyway. Shiro, the Silver King, has won against the 8th Colourless King, so that story was finished. Just like, it seemed, Kuroh's story in the Silver clan, pitifully brief.
A thought that he was the member of Colourless clan crossed his mind, but he pushed it away before it could become a ray of hope. He didn't need hope anymore, he didn't want hope, because hope would be broken and that hurt. He knew that better than most. And the new Colourless King had no reason to search and save him. Nobody would come for him and he had no idea how to escape on his own.
He wasn't sure how long he has laying there, thoughts swirling in his head. He was vaguely aware that the Green clan's discussion had finished and the priest has started cooking. Idly, he wondered how it would feel to be a part of their family, but that was unacceptable. Was it?
'How about some training before dinner, my cute, little Kuroh? You should keep yourself in shape after all. You never know when you'll need it,' Yukari's voice scattered Kuroh's thoughts. It was slightly mocking, probably calculated to get a rise out of Kuroh. Probably it would have worked some time ago, but no more. Now, Kuroh only turned his head away from where he heard Yukari approaching.
'I don't like to be ignored,' his senior student spoke again, this time displeased rather than mocking. Kuroh prepared himself for a kick meant to snap him out of the "unattractive depression", as Yukari called it, but no kick came. Instead, Yukari warned him that he wasn't going to like what would happen if he didn't get up in the next ten seconds, ready to fight hand-to-hand.
Kuroh closed his eyes. A moment of silence passed, perhaps Yukari's ten seconds. Perhaps more, he didn't count.
"The final curtain falls at the very moment a person gives up."
Hearing the familiar, dear voice, shot through him like a lightning and Kuroh immediately looked up to where Yukari was standing, well within the perimeter, the most precious voice recorder in his hand, a displeased expression on his face. It morphed into gleeful mocking when he finally got a response from his junior student and Kuroh was overwhelmed by a feeling of foreboding.
'The new Colourless King is here, so you won't need this anymore, will you?' Yukari asked nonchalantly, twirling the recorder in his hand, obviously not caring at all if it fell. Before even he became aware he has moved, he was in a crouch, ready to pounce and sure that his eyes were glaring bloody murder, wordlessly willing to threaten Yukari into putting the recorder away. Unfortunately, it seemed that his senior student was immune to even the best of Kuroh's glares.
A cold smile stretching his lips, Yukari carelessly dropped the recorder on the floor. Kuroh twitched, ready to jump for it, but Yukari was faster. In lightning speed, the violet-haired man brought his foot up and down on the recorder, the crunch of the plastic filling the cavern and echoing off the empty, distant walls.
Kuroh saw red. Some distant part of his brain was aware that he jumped, but there was no active thought that went into the action. Only vaguely he registered the surprised expression and the widening of Yukari's eyes. He collided with Yukari, hands finding their way to his neck even as they both flew backwards.
Out of the perimeter.
The pain exploded and Kuroh's hands closed instinctively. Vaguely, he felt hands on top of his and heard screaming, but there was nothing he could do anymore. Then he was flying back into the perimeter, Sukuna Gojo on his heels, not leaving Kuroh even a split of a second to gather himself before showering him with punches and kicks.
All Kuroh could do, was to curl up, protecting his head and stomach.
'Stop it, Sukuna,' he heard eventually. The kicks stopped, replaced by some arguing between Sukuna and the priest, but Kuroh didn't move. Slowly, the pain from the collar and punches faded into manageable levels. When the annoying teenager finally accepted that it was Yukari's fault for "thoughtless provocation", the priest went about tidying up, complaining all the way.
Listening to the pieces of plastic and metal being swept away, Kuroh couldn't quite keep the silent tears from falling. He has never thought he would lose that recorder.