Minutes later, Makoto strode through the atrium of the Niijima manor towards the double wooden doors, both open to the bright noon of a clear day. The ambient light of the blue sky reflected off the freshly repolished wooden floor. The staff, marshaled by Yoshida, seemed to be operating at their traditional efficiency. No sign of last night's festivities could be seen inside, and as Makoto stepped out to the front veranda, she saw the lawns were systematically lined with hanging white sheets and table cloths, drying in the mid-day warmth.
Makoto made a mental note to drive Johanna slowly down the drive so as to avoid kicking up dust. Dust blown onto drying laundry was an excellent way to earn the animosity of Yoshida and house staff. Not even the title of 'Lady of the House' would protect Makoto from such ire. She'd made that mistake several years ago, and enjoyed porridge for every meal for a week. Oh, you made a lunch order, Ms. Niijima? So sorry, but Mr. Yoshida said you ordered this…
And fire servants who worked at the estate most of their lives? Fire Yoshida? Impossible. Unthinkable. The estate ran more as a multi-family clan than a business, with wages being more a system of shared wealth than a salary. Servant's children frolicked in the back gardens (but never the front). Retired servants, usually living with currently employed offspring, mended curtains, sewed new uniforms, and so forth. It was a village. And yes, that fostered a taken-for-granted type of mentality in younger servants, and a certain lack of urgency and productivity in routine matters for all servants all the time... But as Yoshida had once told Makoto with emphatic passion: the system produces loyalty, an utterly priceless resource that only a fool would toss aside.
So despite Makoto's urgency to find Amamiya, she drove Johanna from the stables as slowly as she could and still keep the motorcycle balanced. Frequent checks in the side-mirror confirmed her rear wheel was not kicking up dust into the light wind. Satisfied the hanging laundry was safe, Makoto turned her attention to the estate gate, which was already opening upon her approach. Five men stood near the gate, all with shouldered rifles and wearing the blue uniform of Okumura security.
On the outer side of the opening gate, some woman was standing just outside the swing of the opening iron bars. She had short, black hair and was wearing a mundane but clean everyday dress; the long-skirted, modest thing common to most people of the city. Makoto didn't recognize her. One of the gate guards moved forward and shepherded the woman out of the way, which clearly frustrated her and she began arguing with the guard.
Another guard began walking towards Makoto as she neared, it was Dojima, the promoted day-watch captain.
"Good day, Lady Niijima," said Dojima.
Makoto stopped Johanna beside him and the engine rumbled loudly in idle. "Good day. Who is that woman?"
"Her name is Ohya Ichiko. She claims to work for the Tock-Yo Shimbun, and she wants to talk to you..."
The newspaper! Makoto drew in a hiss of air. She needed to find Amamiya. She didn't have time for this kind of thing. The woman was almost surely a gossip columnist looking for information about the gala last night. And waiting at the estate gate! It was incredibly audacious.
Dojima's seasoned eyes watched her reaction. "Do you want me to detain her and call the city guard?"
Makoto hesitated. Waiting outside private estates was technically illegal, and doubly so for journalists. City laws, usually made by (and for) the elite, called such an act 'loitering with intent to produce slander.' Makoto could indeed have the woman arrested, but it could have a drastic impact on this Ohya woman's life. She could remember Yoshida and Father discussing the law when it was implemented. Father had supported it. Yoshida was less enthusiastic, saying the punishment was too severe.
"No," Makoto said to Dojima. "Warn her away and assure her that if she returns, you will certainly do so. And if she does, do so."
"Yes, Lady Niijima. And when should we expect your return to the estate?"
"I'm not sure. If Mr. Yoshida asks, please advise him not to hold supper on my account."
"Yes."
Makoto accelerated Johanna out the gate. The Ohya woman called out to her, but Makoto couldn't make out what she said due to Johanna's engine noise. It didn't matter. Makoto had more pressing concerns and accelerated down the gravel road.
Further to the east, Tock-Yo Bay glittered in the sunlight, but Makoto turned on the road to the west, passing the Okumura Estate and putting the Azabu district behind her. On a green hillock in the distance, the Meiji Jinyu temple complex rose from the surrounding city. Further west, beyond the far side of that divine hill, was Makoto's destination. If Amamiya was still in the city, he was certainly in the Yongen-Jaya district, hopefully sheltering from the sun in the cellar of Cafe Leblanc.
The sun was at its zenith, Amamiya Ren could feel it in his bones. Despite the wooden building above him, despite the depth of the storage cellar, despite the layer of soil over his bare chest- he could feel the weight of the star far, far above. It pressed on his forehead like a leaden blanket. And as a rival in discomfort, the hunger gnawed upon him. Ren's mouth was cotton-like. His fangs itched. Every fiber of his being buzzed with mild restlessness.
The first day of fasting was not going well.
Ren sighed and opened his eyes to stare at the wooden ceiling of the cellar. He might as well abandon the attempt to rest. He'd hoped to pass the day in hibernation, but it eluded him. Instead, he had nothing to distract him from the myriad discomforts which now assailed him. Might as well get up and do something useful. Clean his weapons. Inspect his gear. Perhaps read. Nightfall would bring some mild relief, but also new urges as his hunger would rise with the moon. Then, he would allow himself a half-capsule meal.
Ren rose and used the horsehair brush to remove lingering soil from his skin. At this point, even Morgana would be a welcome distraction, but the symbiote was silent and in retreat, still sulking over their argument the night before. He would come back out eventually- it was not like he could leave…
The bell of the cafe twinkled above him. Sojiro finally had a customer. It was a relatively rare event during the day- the cafe was more tavern than coffee shop, drawing in its few regulars as the sun set. He heard Sojiro greet the arrival and stopped paying attention… but the tone and timbre of the answering feminine voice drew his mind back to full alert.
"Mumble mumble mumble - whereabouts of Mr. Amamiya?"
Ren's ears now tuned into the sounds above him, so Sojiro's entire answer was crystal clear:
"He's downstairs, as far as I know, Ms. Niijima. Do you want me to call him?"
"Thank you, no," said Makoto's voice, "I'll go down and see him. I think that will be more comfortable for him due to the time of day."
"If you say so," said Sojiro, doubt and concern obvious in his voice.
Confident footsteps moved overheard towards the cellar door, each thump raising anxiety in Ren's mind. More comfortable?! Hell! Maybe on any normal day, but he was fasting! He was hungry! And now a young, virgin human woman was on her way into his Palace! This was… excellent…! Saliva began to flow in Ren's mouth.
No! It was terrible! Stop! She needed to stop!
There was a rapping on the cellar door. Ren felt a slight relief. Makoto wasn't the type to barge in without knocking, at least. Not like Dr. Takemi.
"Go away!" said Ren, his voice wet with excess spit.
A short silence on the stair. "It's Niijima Makoto, Mr. Amamiya."
"I know who you are! Go away!"
Another silence. "I'm sorry, but I must speak with you. It's important."
The door opened. Ren winced as light briefly reflected down the corner of the stairwell. A feminine shadow stepped in, and the door closed. A waft of Niijima Makoto's everpresent scent wafted down ahead of her. Ren took an instinctual step towards the source, his body tingling with electricity. He jerked himself back.
Hell! This woman! Ren decided he'd better use a capsule, right now. He couldn't wait till nightfall now. But she was already coming down the stairs.
"It's about a hunting contract," Makoto was saying. "I was worried I wouldn't catch you before you left the city..."
It was too late to mix a cup of blood now. She was already here!
Her nose full of the pungent smell of coffee, Niijima Makoto felt her way down the last of the cellar steps and felt bare soil under her boots. It wasn't quite pitch black down here, but it was close. Something of the daylight was leaking through the gaps in wood beams and foundation to create a slight, diffuse illumination. Enough to let her discern shadowy shapes from the overall darkness.
A lantern would have been nice, but she'd feared it would disturb Ren too much. It was probably a good decision. Judging from the tone of Ren's voice, he was still angry about her outburst last night. She hadn't handled his departure news well. Well, making amends for that was one of the reasons she was here.
But… where was he?
"Mr. Amamiya?" she asked the darkness. Then, realizing this was a more private place: "Ren? Where are you?"
"Here," said the darkness in the opposite corner of the cellar.
Ren's voice sounded even more strained than it had when he was shouting for her to go away. She must have really upset him. Ren kept such careful control of his face and emotions, generally giving nothing away, but he seemed emotionally impacted today. Makoto thought he must possess more passion under the surface than she had credited him.
"What do you want?" said the shadow.
"To hire you," said Makoto, taking a step toward Ren's voice.
"Stop! Please!"
The sharp desperation in Ren's voice froze Makoto in her tracks.
Then Ren said: "You- you might trip on my things in the dark. I- I have fragile stuff!... All over! And I know you can't see down here."
Makoto took the step back. She certainly didn't want to anger him further by breaking something important. Maybe she'd miscalculated coming down here. But she was already here, so what harm was done was done. She may as well complete her objective.
"I'm offering you a contract to hunt this Kaneshiro vampire."
Silence, then: "I'm expensive."
"That's not a problem."
"Fine. I accept."
Makoto's mouth was open to argue against Ren's next objection. His quick acceptance caught her by surprise. "Guh-... Erm… Good!"
And just like that, she had what she wanted: Amamiya Ren as a hunting partner for the foreseeable future. All the worry, guilt, and anxiety which had plagued her last night and this morning vanished into a puff of joy. She felt light-headed as she said: "Okay, then. Mr. Amamiya- I mean, Ren... please come to the estate this evening. I'm having the Sakamoto's over for a meeting. I'd like you there."
"Fine. I must rest, then. Please leave."
Still light-headed in unexpected happy relief, Makoto instinctually responded to the obvious dismissal. The only polite thing to do was leave.
"All right… um-... Thank you for-" She turned to ascend the stairs, but her leading foot didn't quite settle fully onto the first step. Her foot slipped in the dark. Her harms shot out instinctively, her right palm striking the sharp wooden edge of something. But she caught herself from falling, though not without cost. A sharp sting in her right hand indicated a minor wound. She closed her palm in the dark and felt a small, warm wetness there. She was bleeding a little, but nothing serious.
"Sorry, I'm fine," Makoto said as she stood back up to try the cellar stairs again. "Just lost my-"
Makoto felt hot breath on the back of her neck. A looming shadow just behind her. The surprise of the proximity shot fear briefly through her, but then she realized it was just Ren, trying to catch her from falling. How embarrassing! Makoto felt her cheeks heat up in a blush.
"I'm fine, Ren. Just tripped in the dark." She smiled sheepishly over her shoulder at Ren's looming shape. "I'll see you tonight."
She began climbing the stairs away from Ren. His strained voice followed her:
"See you… tonight…"