How many different ways can one feel relief? When Makoto saw Ren come around that dark corner, she certainly felt the tension in the bottom of her gut go away, that get-ready-here-it-comes feeling. And she felt her jaw loosen, which she hadn't realized was clamped like a vice; as if she'd felt the mission, the safety of the Sakamotos, and now Yusuke- all of it, was then depending on her alone.
With Ren back, it all seemed more achievable; when his grey eyes had again locked on her own, there was a sort of lifting warmth in her chest; dispelling a high, sharp worry that Makoto had never felt before. He was okay. So. Everything was okay. Thank God.
Makoto let out a slow breath and reopened her eyes. Ren was walking into the room, looking around at the slain ghouls. He seemed uninjured, but there seemed something odd about his nose. Was it different somehow? Probably that was just a trick of the lantern light.
He stopped and sized up Ryuji and Ann, both of them going slightly stiff at Ren's attention.
"Good work," said Ren.
Ann and Ryuji puffed up slightly and grinned at each other.
Ren then eyed Yusuke a moment, but Yusuke didn't quite return the gaze. His eyes continued a dreamy sort of wandering. Ren looked back at the Sakamotos.
"Watch him."
As they moved to Yusuke, Ren's focus switched to Makoto and he stepped forward into a conspiratorial closeness. Makoto felt a surging warmth in her chest, Ren had looked at the Sakamotos as subordinates, at Yusuke as an oddity, but he'd stepped up to her as an equal.
"He's not entirely his own," said Ren, his voice scarcely a whisper, but obviously meaning Yusuke. "Is he causing any problems?'
"No," whispered Makoto, "Ryuji said he helped save me."
Ren frowned slightly at her. "What happened?"
While the Sakamoto's resettled some of their gear, Makoto provided Ren a quick summary of the attack and fight.
Ren puffed a bit of air out of his nose. "So he's fighting the control. But I think he's also a window."
A window? Oh! Makoto's eyes involuntarily flicked to Yusuke, who was dazedly watching Ann adjust her belt. Makoto looked back into Ren's frown. "You think Madarame is watching us through him?!"
"Yes."
If Yusuke was an unwitting spy, then that could explain how Madarame had managed the timing of separating Ren from the group, and the timing of the ambush of ghouls and revenants. It also meant Madarame had witnessed the ambush's failure, and was watching them right now!
"Then why are we not under attack," said Makoto, just as a possible answer reached her mind. "Do you think Madarame may be out of resources?"
Ren nodded slowly. "Five ghouls, two revenants, and-" He pulled open the side of the cloak slightly, revealing a severed head at his belt.
Makoto hissed in breath. It had been what one might consider a pretty man- wide jaws and chin, a dandy's long locks. Now all of it was blood clotted and a sad sort of surprised expression was frozen on its face.
"A noble?!" gasped Makoto. Ren had taken down a target all by himself. So what he'd said about Kamoshida was true: he'd been uncommonly formidable.
Ren nodded and let his cloak resettle, again hiding the severed head.
"Is it-?" She paused, not daring to hope their mission was already a success.
"Madarame?" said Ren, "No. One of his sons. He came to kill me, probably just after setting the ghouls loose on you."
So- while Makoto, Ryuji, and Ann were here, the enemy had also actively moved on Ren, and with greater force. "They saw you as the biggest threat. That's why they split us up."
"They were right," said Ren. A small, arrogant smirk formed at the corner of his mouth.
Makoto felt a bubble of laughter, but the anxiety over still being lost in a vampire basement with their lives on the line popped that bubble almost as soon as it came into existence. Now was no time for jokes! He needed to be more serious!
"Don't get cocky, Ren!" hissed Makoto, her voice sounding sharp to her own ears. And she was irritated enough to not regret it.
Ren was taken aback, he blinked and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"That's what I said," grumbled Morgana.
"Okay!" said Ren, "Okay, you two, okay!"
He looked contrite enough, and really, there was as little time to worry over jokes as there was to make them. The real question was: what situation were then in, now?; and: what is best to do next?
Makoto began thinking quietly aloud: "Five ghouls, two revenents, and a noble. We killed them all, but does Madarame know? He's not sending any more forces, which means, he either doesn't know or he may not have any other agents."
"I think he knows his minions are dead," said Ren, "I think he saw you all kill them. But he didn't see my fight. He didn't have eyes on his son. He probably thinks I evaded him somehow. His son was strong, so maybe Madarame thinks he was invincible."
That would imply that there is no link of perception between a parent vampire and their offspring. Interesting to learn, but could that blind spot be exploited somehow? Would Madarame be quick to do certain things if he knew his son was dead? Or would he be quick to do things if he thought his son was still alive? Makoto realized she had no basis of knowledge regarding vampire emotion towards their offspring, nor their logic processes, nor how to exploit them. She was churning a mind full of speculation with no hope of generating anything useful.
"Is it better to keep it secret?"
Ren nodded. "I'd rather my enemy think he has a weapon he actually doesn't."
That made sense to Makoto. It created an opportunity: Madarame would plan his actions with the false knowledge that he still had a powerful swordsman at his beck and call. Before he discovered his error, he would delay whatever contingency options he might have in reserve.
"Um-, Mr. Amamiya?" said Ann
Makoto and Ren emerged from their private world, turning their attention back to Ann.
"Are you bleeding?"
Makoto looked down and saw a small wet puddle under Ren, and there seemed to be something glistening on his legs. Blood. The head was dripping.
"It's not my blood," said Ren, ending his statement with the heavy finality that Makoto knew was a hint to stop asking questions. Normally, that just made Makoto ask more questions, but the Sakamotos were growing accustomed to Ren, so:
"Whose blood is it?" said Ryuji.
Ren turned his head toward Ryuji, and though Makoto couldn't see the look on Ren's face, she could see Ryuji's expression become slightly concerned.
"It's nothing," said Ren, his tone even more stern.
"Let's get moving," said Makoto, "We've been fools enough to stand around an ambush site. Madarame may have more surprises for us, so get a little harder to find."
Ren stepped over and grabbed Yusuke by the upper arm, pulling him to the fore of the group and shoving him forward. "You first."
"Hey!" said Ann. "You don't need-"
Ren's head snapped around and whatever look he gave Ann made her swallow the rest of her sentence. If Yusuke noticed the undercurrents of their interactions, he didn't show it. He simply stumbled into the lead, silently and dreamily looked around at them all, and then walked slowly into the dark passage. Ren followed closely, likely wanting to keep close watch on whatever their unwitting spy might lead them into. Makoto and the Sakamotos followed a short distance behind.
They walked through dark stone passages for a short distance. Their hip lanterns were more than enough to illuminate the tighter spaces, and the light preceded them until they came to another moderately open space- an intersection of four equally dark passages. Ren placed a hand on Yusuke's shoulder, stopping him from walking into the right-most hallway.
"Is that the way to the master of the house?" said Ren.
"They all lead that way," said Yusuke, his voice thick with his dreamy wistfulness. Makoto wondered if the level of dreaminess might be an auditory clue of Madarame's degree of control over the young man.
Ren shook Yusuke, his neck bobbling from Ren's frustration. "Then why go in that one?"
"It's closer."
Ren held Yusuke's shoulder a moment, apparently thinking about that answer. He frowned and let go, allowing Yusuke to proceed into the hallway.
"What is it?" said Makoto.
Ren frowned at Yusuke's back, letting the young man get a little distance away. "I just don't like the idea of going where he wants us to go."
Ann and Ryuji's eyes went from Ren to Makoto, both apparently lacking any inherent opinion in the situation. They waited to see what they would all do.
Makoto half-agreed with Ren; but: "But is wandering down any of these other hallways any better?"
Ren's frown deepened. "No, I suppose not. Stick close to him, I'll take up the rear. I don't like having two unknown hallways at our backs. Keep your eyes open."
"Right," said Makoto. She walked quickly after Yusuke, the Sakamoto's following, with Ren taking up a cautious rear guard.
This new passage was longer, and Yusuke moved along it with greater speed and confidence. Makoto increased her pace to keep up with him. Eventually, the tighter stone walls opened up into a large open space, which after a moment's hesitation, Makoto stepped out into, Ann and Ryuji close behind. Her footfalls took on a metallic sound. She was no longer walking on stone. Makoto looked down and found the floor to be shining slightly in the lantern light, and it had an odd grooved texture all over it...
"Ren!" said Morgana.
"Damn!" said Ren.
Makoto turned around to see what the problem was, and instead of a hallway behind them, Ren was pressing his hands against a large painting of a dark stone hallway.
"We've been moved again!" said Ren. "The kid led us into another trap!"
"For real?" said Ryuji. "But the dude helped save Ms. Niijima!"
"Well, he isn't helping now!" said Ren, giving the painting canvas an angry slap.
"Hey," said Ann, "Where did he go?"
Makoto spun back around. In the brief moment of her distraction, Yusuke had managed to vanish into the darkness on the outskirts of their lantern light.
((Ladies and gentlemen: I, Sayuri Madarame, am pleased to once again welcome you all to: The Thorn Palace!)) shouted a voice from the darkness.
Electric light burst forth from the ceiling, revealing a large chamber with a gleaming and grooved metal floor. Eight walls enclosed the space in the shape of an octagon, and the walls were covered with what appeared to be hundreds of ofuda, slips of paper with vague incantations on them, of the sort one might find plastered to the walls of shrines or holy places.
Roughly a dozen feet or so from the ground, the paper-covered stone walls ended and wooden walls continued for the remaining twelve feet to a wood-beam ceiling. Most of this upper half of each of the eight walls was covered by a giant painting. Eight giant paintings, one for each section of the octagon, and the image upon each was unique but sharing a common theme: a large collection of tables and chairs, a haphazard collection of people holding drinks, some paintings depicted people in rather mundane tunics and dresses, other paintings depicted people in high society clothing, tuxedos and elaborately dresses- and every person of pale complexion and reddish eyes.
And they.. moved!
"Fuck…." said Ren.
Makoto had never heard Ren's voice sound quite like that. It snatched her attention away from the bizarre spectacle of the room: Ren had pulled his hat so low over his face, all Makoto could see was the lower part of his pointed nose and an intense snarling grimace.
"What's with all those weirdos?" said Ryuji. "What's the Thorn Palace?"
"Are those paintings... moving?" said Ann.
"Ren!" said Makoto, as the echoing voice of Madarame continued to ramble on above them. "Do you know what this is?"
((Fans! Patrons! Gamblers! I'm sure you all enjoy the beauty of a doe-eyed virgin! I'm doubly sure you love how expressive they are as they bleed! It's a memory you savor when you uncork your vial of their blood, which we at The Thorn Palace painstakingly collect- fresh! Just for you! Right here in the arena!))
"It's like an arena event" said Ren, yelling loudly over the echoing voice of Madarame.
"Like a sumo match?" said Ryuji.
"Yes, but instead of fighters, it's just slaughtering humans."
"What?!" said Ann, "Why?!"
"Profit" said Ren. "People pay to watch, and they can buy the blood of the participants."
((But I'm equally sure, ladies and gentlemen, that you might be in the mood for something a bit more… exciting? I'm sure I speak for many when I say: a serf is a serf, and they all bleed. It gets old! I need some SPICE in my life? Am I right?))
"Uh, Hey! How do the humans get killed?" said Ryuji.
"I don't know," said Ren. "I never watch it!"
"Let's not find out!" said Makoto. "We need to get out of here! Let's look for an exit!"
"What exit?" said Ryuji, his arm sweeping the ofuda- covered octagon. "There's no doors!"
"Yusuke got out somewhere! There must be something. A door. A passage. Something left over from when this room was built!" said Makoto. "Spread out and look for anything! Cracks in the stone! Odd-looking mortar! Anything!"
((So now! I! Sayuri Madarame! Present to you! For the first time EVER in Thorn Place! A team of so-called vampire hunters!))
Before they could spread out and begin their search, the lights of the octagon suddenly went dark, except for those directly illuminating Makoto and the others. She froze and looked up into the light, an instinctive reaction. She cursed herself for a fool. There was no time for distractions. They needed to get out of this arena!
"Ignore the light!" said Makoto, taking her own advice and moving to the far wall. "Use your lanterns!"
((And not only that! Two of these hunters are female- and, I assure you with my own personal guarantee, virgins of pristine stock! And in two flavors! Blond and brunette! But as always, there's only a gallon in each human, so order quickly or you'll be out of luck! Prices are 50 denari a vial!))
"What?!" said Ann.
((And for those more budget minded, there is a young male virgin. Admittedly, not nearly as good, but certainly more affordable! 10 denari a vial!))
"What!? How does he even know!?" shouted Ryuji.
"Ignore him! Keep looking!" said Makoto.
((And finally, the most promising combatant, and another Thorn Palace first: a dhampir! Now, I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that the filtration system in Thorn Palace is the best it can be- not a single drop of your product will be tainted by half-blood filth!))
Makoto turned from her search to see the lights now focused on Ren. He was tapping on a section of wall with his hammer, his hat low on his face, his expression in shadow. But he caught Makoto's gaze and his arm froze. They stared at one another for a moment, then Ren bared his teeth, apparently frustrated. He stopped hammering, returned the tool to his belt, and instead began manipulating something within the cover of his cloak.
The head! He was going to reveal the head of Madarame's son. A distraction! Something to buy them all some time! Makoto turned her attention back to the stone of the wall, fingers tracing the gaps of stones, desperately seeking some sign of new mortar or some feeling of moving air.
((That's the Madarame quality guarantee! So sit back and-))
"Sayuri Madarame" shouted Ren from the center of the room. Makoto didn't turn to see, instead keeping to her search. Ren continued: "Here is the head of your son! Madarame Atsushi! An exile legally slain!"
The voice went silent. There was a wet thump, which must be Atsushi's head hitting the metallic floor. Makoto's ears twitched to Ren's words: Legally slain? Ren was referencing laws and customs of his homeland! Makoto's curiosity got the better of her. She turned back to look at Ren. He was standing in the center of the room, in the center of the light, the bloody head on the stone floor before him.
"By the Mendata Regarding Exiles of 1143," shouted Ren towards the silent ceiling, "a family member cannot pursue blood feud over an exile's death. You are in breach of The Law if you do not release us!"
What was Ren doing?, thought Makoto, Was he buying them time, or was he trying to talk them out of this death trap? What was a Mendata? A thousand questions exploded in Makoto's mind. But she pushed them back down. She couldn't waste the time Ren was buying for them. She hurriedly continued her grasping search of the walls, running her fingers under the ofuda papers, sometimes ripping them out of the way.
A loud snort echoed throughout the room. ((A Ronin has no standing before the law, dhampir! Nor do humans!))
"I am no Ronin!" shouted Ren, "I am Kurusu Akira! 743rd son of Lady Kurusu! A licensed exile hunter and acting in legal pursuit!"
Makoto's head spun around again. Ren had his hat off and was staring defiantly around the octagon, staring at each giant portrait in turn. What did he say? Kurusu Akira?! So, was Amamiya Ren a fake name? Was it something Ren used amongst humans? Makoto suddenly realized the amount of things Ren had not told her was vast beyond even her vaugist suspicions. Who was this- this- vampire!? Akira? Ren? Which was real? Was anything he ever said real?!
((Kurusu!))
"Yes! Your blood feud is illegal! Release me! And release my serfs! These humans are my property and likewise immune to your retribution! Elsewise, break the law before these witnesses-" Ren held up his arms, indicating the eight portraits, "and face the legal wrath of House Kurusu!"
Another scoffing laugh echoed through the chamber, but this one seemed a little more uncertain. ((...Lady Kurusu wouldn't pursue The Law for the sake of one half-blood son!))
"Try it! Disrespect my Mother before all these witnesses and see what happens!"
The voice was silent. Then is said grudgingly: ((I do not seek blood feud…))
Shock and anger aside, Makoto wondered if Ren/Akira had just... succeeded? Could his vague references toward vampire law actually get them all out of this? But could they still get Madarame afterward? Would they be forced to abandon their hunt for Madarame? Let a monster go because he would let them go? Makoto gritted her teeth silently. Like hell that would happen!
((But you, Mr. Kurusu Akira, were not invited into my home. You are a trespasser! And by common law of the Empire, I am in my legal rights to defend myself and my property from you and yours! With any weapon I have available!))
Ren's arms dropped to his sides, a look of dismayed revelation on his face.
Madarame's voice regained its announcer tone: ((And that weapon!? Ladies and gentlemen! IS THE THORN PALACE! Tonight, a half-blood of Lady Kurusu herself will die before you! But how long will it take? Five minutes? Ten? See your establishment's broker for standard survivalist odds and payouts! Make your bets! The Thorn Palace begins in three minutes!))
A defeated-looking Ren looked towards Makoto; "Did you find anything yet?"
Makoto had a million questions, the first of which was regarding who Amamiya Ren really was, but that would have to wait. "No! Ann?! Ryuji?!"
"Nothing!"
"No!"
"Well, we have three minutes. Keep looking! Tear all these papers down if you have to!"
So they searched, but before anyone could find anything promising, Madarame's voice roared out:
((Let us start the game!))