Chapter 1 / The Null Hypothesis, Part 5
"Man, I felt like I had the wildest dream…"
Murasame groaned, feeling a ringing pain bouncing around his head. He gave it a few moments for his vision to return, but when it did, he started hoping that he was still dreaming. The place he woke up in had not been his room, nor was it anything close to it. It was more similar to a containment space.
"Oh."
He woke up on a proper bed, there were two chairs across one another with a table in between, a toilet sectioned off for privacy and a water fountain off to the side. All the furniture, of what little there were, had been deadbolted onto the ground, but set all of that aside, and it might have been a prison cell. The gray concrete walls certainly didn't help any favors and the budget size didn't exclaim luxury. No windows to see the outside either, except for the one that was on the door.
"Not good. Definitely not good."
He moved his arms around to see that they were surprisingly taken care of. The pain was still there, lingering from the attacks he sustained, but there was a noticeable amount of bandages and ointment to help ease the suffering. In fact, he could probably head back to work like this. He rolled his arms a few more times until a strain bit into his muscles, forcing him to stop. Even then, it wasn't anything major, something he could certainly shake off.
Murasame should count himself lucky that his shinobi training, however useless it may have been offensively, had made him at least more durable than the average person.
"They helped me out? Why? What's the point…?" Murasame sighed as he stretched his legs. "Wouldn't it be easier if they didn't tend to my injuries? I don't get it at all, but I won't complain. Not being in pain sounds positive to me."
Murasame did notice the lack of weapons he had on himself.
During the nursing period, they likely confiscated his kusarigama and his expensive watch. No functioning kidnapper would leave their victims with anything on their body. Even his ninja scroll was gone, but that in itself was useless without the kusarigama inlaid within it.
"Yeah…" Murasame crossed a leg on the other one as he sat down on the chair. "None of this makes any goddamn sense."
First things first, Murasame needed to calmly think about his situation.
Recalling back everything that happened up to the part where he passed out, he could figure out the smaller details. When it came down to a larger scheme, that was where he was lost.
"They really wanted that kid."
Murasame wondered why that was the case, but it was next to impossible to figure out an answer. However the relationship may have been between that mysterious figure behind the mask and the boy, it doesn't explain as to why Murasame was captured alongside him.
It might have been reasonable to assume that he was captured because he was helping the boy escape from the assailants, but upon further inspection, that still wouldn't make sense. It would have been enough to leave him in the parking lot. In that way, he would have been taken out of the operation's variables. Taking him along merely extended how relevant he would be during whatever plan they had in mind.
So why did they take him along? What was the mysterious figure mentioning before he passed out? Something about a business proposition? Murasame could only imagine what it could possibly be, but he was willing to bet that it was nothing good. This was the same person that hired ruffians to siege a hospital of all places.
"They didn't even leave a hint as to what it is that they wanted. How am I supposed to figure things out like this? What a shitty situation to be in."
After complaining to himself, Murasame stood back up.
He walked towards the locked door and knocked on it. It was solid steel, so any average person would have their fair share of difficulties getting through it.
"Hey! Open up! Who the hell do you think you are, keeping me in here like some caged animal!?" Murasame started kicking the door. "You better let me out!"
There was no response to the ruckus. Murasame tried looking through the window that was caged with iron bars, but he couldn't even see a single person standing guard for him. It was as if he was left here by himself while everyone else went to do something better to do.
"They think I'm too easy to keep around like this? I'll show them!"
Murasame kicked the door once more, but in the process, he stubbed his toe. He swore under his breath as he hopped backwards. He took his shoes off to rub the pain away, but that settled the fact that he wasn't leaving here unless it was on their terms.
He started to wonder if this was an attempt at ransoming. The Houou Family is no stranger to their relation with money, so it would make sense that they would attempt to extort his parents for a large sum. Little did they know that his father was a head of their shinobi clan, so the moment this news reached their ears, they were going to be in deep shit.
If that was the case, Murasame didn't need to do anything.
The bed was nice, he could hydrate himself and he could tend to his toilet needs, so it wasn't as if he was going to be uncomfortable in here. They might even feed him if they bothered putting him up in such a place. Stressing out wouldn't do him any good.
"I wonder how long I've been passed out for." Murasame rolled into the bed, already making himself at home. "I wonder if Ikaruga has noticed anything yet. If only I had my phone, but if I did, they would probably have thrown it to the side before taking me along in their vehicle. They wouldn't risk the GPS tracking my phone's location and all."
A sigh escaped Murasame as a mindless thought escaped from him.
"I wonder how the kid is holding up."
-/SK-EV/-
After some time had passed, Murasame heard footsteps coming from outside of the door. When it stopped and he heard the jangle of keys, he pulled himself up from the bed and he immediately took a seat in the chair to look more professional. Considering the state of matters, he wasn't going to try and force himself out through sheer strength.
He needed to know what their intentions were before figuring out his next steps.
"[It's good to see that you've woken up, Murasame]." The familiar noise of the voice filter revealed itself as the masked figure walked into the room. "[I appreciate that you took my words to heart, showing yourself in your prime. I see that you would be a perfect partner to do business with.]"
"And I would have appreciated it if you didn't knock me out."
"[You will have to excuse me on that front.]" The masked figure gave their earnest bow. "[This location is a secret one, so we could not risk the possibility of you knowing where it is before you can agree to our terms.]"
Murasame grimaced, but he held his silence. Even he understood he wasn't in such a position to be speaking his mind whenever he wanted to.
"[Don't be like that, Musarame.]" The masked figure took the other chair and sat across the table from him. "[I'm not trying to become your enemy here.]"
"Are you sure?" Murasame spat. "You could have fooled me."
"[Like I said, I want to make a business proposition with you.]"
"So my ears weren't playing tricks on me back at the hospital."
Murasame kicked his feet onto the table.
It was a rather rude mannerism to have, especially when the other party had been sitting across from him, but Murasame didn't care. He wasn't sensing any form of hostility, so if he was going to be trapped here, he thought it would be best if he at least got comfortable. The masked figure didn't take any offense to such actions—as far as Murasame could tell. The mask made things difficult to read facial expressions, as one might imagine.
"Fine. Go ahead and tell me what you want. It's not like I can do anything else, so you might as well amuse me while you have me captive here. I need to find some way to kill time."
The masked figure nodded. They paused for a moment, as if deliberating their words.
Whatever they wanted, Murasame felt like they didn't want to trip up on any mistakes that could deter his interest in their proposition. It reminded him of some folks who come to make presentations for the company.
"[Allow me to remove this pretense from the conversation.]" The masked figure leaned onto the table with their elbows. "[We do know about the existence of shinobis. It is important we get that information out of the way in order to proceed.]"
"Do you now…? Hmph."
A chill however ran down his spine despite his tone, but he was always rather good at keeping a poker face during conversations. It did mean that the whole ransom idea was not as likely as he previously thought.
"You're making me wonder what this is all about then," he inquired. "Your business proposition has to do something with shinobis?"
"[I expect you know all about it, considering you hail from one of the higher-ranked clans, so allow me to ask this one question.]" The masked figure leaned forwards, standing their elbows on the table. "[What do you think of the shinobi system that is in place right now?]"
Murasame scoffed. "What kind of question is that supposed to be?"
Needless to say, that was a defensive response. The best kinds of answers are the non-committal ones, all in order to gauge the situation a little more.
"[The world of shinobi is… frankly a terrible one, wouldn't you agree?]"
"... Go on."
"[I see that I was able to pique your interest.]"
It wasn't that. If someone had opened up with such a heavy question, it was only right that Murasame needed to know what this person was going on about.
"[The image of power and discipline. That is what the marking of a shinobi is built on, but within the inner workings of the system, it's rather twisted. Only those who are talented will have their stories be told. People like you are left behind.]"
The corner of Murasame's lips twitched.
"It's no different to a job, isn't it? Some people are better qualified for tasks than others."
"[No job would feed children empty dreams and cold lies from the moment they are born. It would feel like your whole future is shattered apart when they then turn away from the future they were leading you to. That is the absolute truth to the so-called shinobi clans, but I don't need to say more than that. You should know all about that sense of despair, don't you?]"
It was obvious as to what the masked figure was trying to do, leading Murasame on like this, but he narrowed his eyes and decided to play along. Although there was truth in their words, Murasame had long passed the point of having such self-pity, but it is concerning that this person had already known about his past before their conversation started.
"All they care about is their image. They have absolutely no awareness as to what they're doing to people like me. If it's not perfect, or at least the way they want it to be, then it's as good as trash. No wonder the evil shinobis outnumber the good shinobis. All they have to do is come and grab everyone that gets thrown away."
"[Evil shinobis are no better. If they're not part of the upper elite, they're simply used as fodder. I've heard reports on how a single elite shinobi can tear through onslaughts of weaker shinobi without breaking a sweat. If that's the case, what's the point of their presence? To die for whatever trivial cause that they've signed up for?]"
"Being a shinobi isn't all that it's cracked up to be, isn't it?"
"[That is why I believe the shinobi system is a cancer to our society.]" Through the voice filter, Murasame could hear the sheer venom oozing from the masked figure's words. "[Even if it's an underground system that lies invisible to daily life, that does not mean we should ignore those whose lives are affected by them. And for most, I expect the influence to be more negative than others. It is simply because they are so insignificant to the system that their voice will never be heard. From a young age, they are taught not to question it and continue forwards without any regard to what it is that they are truly participating in.]"
"As tools to whatever higher organization or client that they serve, right? Just as it was in the old days where they act in the name of their feudal lords."
"[Yes, but that isn't exactly correct. You do know of their true purpose, correct?]"
Murasame frowned. This was the first he had heard of a shinobi's true purpose before.
"[It's rather harsh to say that it's their true purpose, but the clans hold onto this matter in order to validate themselves and their existence. Have you ever heard of a creature called a yōma before?]"
Murasame faced off with them about a year ago in Kyoto. All he did was keep them at bay, so that he could run away from them without investing his energy, but that was enough time to know how dangerous they could be, especially considering the aftermath of the situation.
"I've heard about them," Murasame answered. "Aren't they supposed to be folklore?"
"[They're as real as you and I. They're rather bloodthirsty as well, so if they ever come into our world, chaos would ensue as they would try to kill everything they could get their hands on. You must have at least heard about the destruction that happened in Kyoto a while back, correct? Despite what the news tells you, there was no earthquake.]"
"I suspected as much."
"[These clans could always excuse their system through their creation and development of shinobi to become kagura, the highest level of shinobi and those that slay yōma. Without that, they're doing nothing more than training child mercenaries into their own privatized tools. Supported by the governments and other high-value clients, but that is another issue altogether.]"
"What's your point? I still don't understand what your proposition is?"
"[I'd like for your assistance in dismantling the shinobi system.]"
Murasame squinted his eyes. "That's quite the proposition you have there, but you know that's going to be difficult, right? This is a system that has persisted throughout time, even through the Edo Period where it probably should have dissipated."
"[And dissipated, it should have.]" The masked figure chuckled ominously. "[If the clans wish to hide behind the kagura, then it would make sense if we simply remove the need for them. As well as that, we can remove the need for shinobis as well, giving the clients better tools that won't come at the expense of countless children and families.]"
"That's a big claim you're making. Do you mind backing up your words?"
"[Are you interested?]"
It was as if the eyes behind the mask were glowing in anticipation.
"The shinobi system hasn't done much for me, so I've got no reason to care much about it. If you're saying that you could revolutionize something like that and I could put my name on it, I'd say that would be a prosperous business investment."
Murasame swept his legs off the table and leaned in with an arm on the table.
"You still haven't told me what it is that you're planning. These are all theories in their own right and as long as I don't see any practicality in demolishing such a system, I can't promise I'll be able to help you out. I don't like being on the losing side, you see."
"[Do not worry. Having your interest is good enough for us now.]"
The masked figure stood up from their chair and opened the door.
However, they did not leave yet. They looked back to Murasame and gestured to him to follow, just as Murasame desired. Since he wasn't showing any hints of wanting to escape, there was no reason for the masked figure to believe otherwise.
"Where are we going?"
"[I'll show you. You desire proof of our practicality, so I shall show you it.]"
As Murasame stepped out, he immediately noticed that the hallways weren't as nice as the containment cell implied. Compared to the nice room, the hallways were filled with dust and dirt. Murasame coughed a bit, stepping out.
"[I'll have to apologize for that. It has been a year since this facility was in use.]"
"Why?"
"[This was the closest facility of ours for containment purposes. The reason as to why it hasn't been used in a long time is that the director of this location died. It was a shame, but without his management, this location could not continue their research, so we moved everything to another site.]"
"And then you've let this place rot?"
"[You see, it is not easy to replace one of the directors. They must be knowledgeable of the shinobi world, have a considerable influence, and be largely competent to what it is that they're researching. Not only that, but they would have to share the desire to abolish the shinobi system through one reason or another.]"
"Then if I'm reading this correctly, you're going to ask me to replace this dead director."
"[Good observation, Murasame. We believe that you are a perfect candidate for the job and that perception is one of the reasons why we have considered you. The difficulty came in trying to speak with you without the clan's knowledge of our contact.]
As the masked figure led Murasame down the halls, he glanced through some of the rooms that were abandoned. All lab equipment and testing areas as far as he could see, but there was nothing that could point to a specific idea that this facility was developing. The machinery, at least to Murasame, looked rather familiar to those he had seen at other facilities that were partnered with the Phoenix Conglomerate. There were, however, a few large tubes that were obviously broken, as if something had crawled out of it. Murasame pushed the urge to shiver away.
"There are other directors, I presume."
"[Correct. Each director is in charge of a different branch, that is to say a different research path."
"Shouldn't I know who I would be working with? Or is that information that I get after we sign papers or whatever we would do in place of that?"
"[None of the directors know anything about the other. Not even the workers underneath them are aware of the existence of the other directors. That is how our secrecy is kept, but the directors are at least knowledgeable on what the other branches are researching.]"
As they headed down a flight of stairs, the masked figure continued to talk.
"[These branches are as follows. They are the branch of mechanization, the branch of transmutation, the branch of armatization, and the branch of domination. This location used to serve as the site for the branch of domination.]"
"What exactly are these research developments if each branch is named like that?"
"[The kagura's role is to eliminate yōma, so in order to eliminate their need to exist, all we must do is eliminate the threat that they fight.]"
Murasame wasn't so slow to not realize almost immediately.
"You don't mean to say that—"
"[We are researching how to use yōma as our tools in various different ways, rather than using shinobi as such. The yōma have no feelings, so we don't see any reason as to why yōma shouldn't be used when the proper preparations are made. It is our plan to replace the shinobi system with a yōma system.]"
Murasame sweated. It sounded like an insane idea. He didn't think there were people crazy enough to think that there were people that wanted to use the yōma for themselves and their own benefit, much less believing that others may want to join in.
"There's a major flaw in your plan, however," Murasame sighed. "Just because there's a new toy that gets introduced, it doesn't mean that people are going to flock towards it. You have no guarantee that this new system will attract them. If you're looking for a peaceful approach, they're not going to care much about it. I'm willing to believe that they might even dispatch shinobis to get rid of everything attached to the project when it comes to light."
"[I never mentioned that this was peaceful.]"
Murasame raised an eyebrow.
"[Once the development is finished, we shall wage war on the kagura. We are at the point where the experiments that we develop are far more superior than what the kagura will ever face without outside influence. And once all the kagura are eliminated, we can start picking apart the shinobis themselves. Those who resisted shall be killed. Those who do not shall be free to live the normal life that they wouldn't have received otherwise.]"
For Murasame, that was bad news.
He already knew that his father would not stand for this. The Houou Clan would be greatly opposed to it. More importantly, he knew that Ikaruga's sense of justice wouldn't permit herself to stand to the side while this hypothetical war waged on.
"[Of course, it is far easier to say these things than to put them into practice. Our approach will be careful to say the least, but I'd like for you to witness what our branches have to offer.]"
The masked figure stopped before a large door as they scanned their handprint to open it. Murasame was impressed that it was working, but they never said that it was unfunctional.
"[This is our proof of practicality you wished to see.]"
They looked over their shoulders with a chuckle.
"[You see, there was a reason as to why we needed that boy.]"
"What?"
"[That boy is one of our experiments. He is being contained here for the time being until we are able to secure a new location for him. With outsiders involved, I could not have them bring the boy over to where he would suppose to be put.]"
"And what's this experiment supposed to be?"
"[A matter for another day. Now then…]"
The door opened up, guiding the two of them down a deeper hallway. At the end of the tunnel, the lights were somewhat dimmer, but it was still clear to Murasame as to what he saw.
"That's…"
It was a wide room with only the bare minimum of lab equipment and machinery needed to uphold the system they had in place. It made the room look far bigger than it was with all of this empty space, but the size was still nothing to scoff at.
It simply made the boy, who was unconscious in the large test tube. It was all the more unavoidable to the eye. Wires were attached to his body, suctioned onto his skin. The hospital gown he wore was still on, but it was strangely dry despite the continuous liquid that was being pumped in and replaced every second. It was more as if the boy was floating there.
"[This experiment is not part of the late director's research specifically, but you may say it is a collaboration.]" The masked figure walked up to the machinery and opened up its mainframe. They were temporary files from what Murasame could glimpse at. "[There are some flaws that we need to sort out, but that is why he is merely a prototype. A prototype can still have their uses, so it was ideal if we were able to retrieve him. It wouldn't be the end of our plans, but you may understand the idea.]"
The masked figure glanced through a couple of screens before ending on a software that looked to be recording the current condition of the boy. A control panel was to the side as a few adjustments were made to stabilize him. The wires couldn't have simply been all for show. After the masked figure nodded to themselves for a bit, Murasame spoke up.
"What's going to happen to the kid?"
Murasame wasn't sure why he had even asked the question. His mouth moved first.
"[To omit as many details as I can, he would make for an ideal sacrificial vessel. It wasn't as if his life is slated for longevity anyways, so we are making the most of his life with this action.]"
Murasame bit his lips.
To be honest, the plans for the boy shouldn't have affected Murasame's life. If he could get out of here safely, that would already be a victory in his eyes, so it was for the best that he should ignore him.
Why was this bothering him?
"I'll need to think this through if I want to be a part of this," Murasame openly mused. "I won't suddenly be detached from the shinobi world if I accept this."
"[That's understandable. You should take your time to decide on such a risk. This flexibility is proof that this is our genuine offer to you.]"
"Does that mean even if I don't accept the role today, you'll let me walk free?"
"[Of course]."
Murasame narrowed his eyes. "Are you not scared that I might take all of this information and pass it onto the shinobi council? All of your preparation and research will go down the drain."
"[Why don't you worry about your own problems, Murasame? I assure you that we have already considered all of the possible outcomes, just as you are considering all of yours right now.]"
Murasame scoffed, but he was really sweating.
He wasn't sure how this person could have been so certain, but the sheer smugness of their tone made Murasame want to prove them wrong. Surviving this encounter was supposed to be his priority though and needless to say, he was being given the red carpet out of the facility.
The solution was simple.
Why was he hesitating?
"I need to think about this."
"[Take your time. This operation has been in the works for a long time. We would not mind waiting a little more. Everything needs to be perfect in order for us to have the best chance of success.]"
The masked figure turned to Murasame.
"[I will need to knock you out in order to keep the secret of this facility's location. It may be abandoned, but it is still our property. I suspect you have already realized this.]"
"It's definitely the easiest thing here to figure out, that's for sure."
Murasame's gaze fell onto the boy once again. He closed his eyes, as if wanting to ignore that simple fact before him that he would abandon the boy to his lonely fate. The time they spent together was short, unindicted of anything that Murasame should care about. If this had been the past, Murasame knew that he would have been able to make the choice as if he was merely breathing.
"Make sure you don't accidentally kill me."
He watched as the masked figure pulled out his baton.
"[As you wish. I'll make it as painless as possible.]"
"How will I know how to contact you once I make my decision?"
"[We will know. Do not worry.]"
Murasame Houou was a selfish man who looked out for only himself. That was the reason how he was able to move forwards in his life. Everyone else had been either two things, those who were important and those who were not. That label was decided by whatever worth they brought to the table.
By all means then, the boy wasn't important. There was no point to his existence for Murasame.
As the baton swung down on Murasame, he had to ask himself one more question.
"Why am I doing this?"
Surprising the masked figure, Murasame ducked under the baton as he reached out for the control panel. Out of all the mentioned outcomes, this must not have been one that the masked figure expected as they paused to comprehend what was happening. In a split second, Murasame focused on the open mainframe for a way to release the boy. He soaked in all of the words, all of the functions, and all of the buttons within that timespan. In the next second, his arm was already moving, using some common sense to access the release process buried within the categorical options.
The last second passed as a final password screen showed up.
Murasame laughed to himself, realizing that the masked figure did not freeze because he was surprised, but he stopped to see how foolish Murasame had been. He didn't bother turning around.
"[What did you expect to achieve by throwing your life away like this?]"
"Who knows? I don't know the answer for myself."
He slammed his hand on the control panel out of frustration.
"[You can't honestly expect me to believe that you would rather live among the world that casted you out. They have forsaken you, Murasame. Don't tell me that you would accept a world that does that? You deserve far better than what the shinobi world has done to you.]"
Murasame winced. "There's no doubt that you're right. Somewhere in my heart, I know that hatred is still dormant. It's waiting for an opportunity to climb back out and reclaim the glory that was supposed to be mine, one way or another. This operation of yours is the perfect opening."
"[You made your decision.]" The masked figure lowered the baton and extended their hand. "[I will overlook your attempt at whatever it was you tried to do if we can agree on an alliance, here and now. We understand your suffering, so let us work together.]"
"However…"
Murasame raised his arm up high.
"If there's one thing I hate even more, it's people who tell me what to do!"
His hand slammed down onto the control panel with the remaining of his strength.
"My name is Murasame Houou! I answer to no one except for myself!"
Murasame's coordination was the main reason why he wasn't fit to be a shinobi, but that didn't mean he wasn't strong. After all, any amount of training can let someone be strong, so even Murasame can damage a machine's control panel and leave a sunken dent in the circuit.
He then felt a deep blow striking across his body which sent him flying to the left. He kept rolling until his body dragged itself to a halt. Hacking and coughing, Murasame winced as he looked up to the masked figure frantically checking the control panel.
"[You fool! What did you do!?]"
"In the Phoenix Conglomerate, I made sure I knew about all technology that we used in our premise, whether it would be for our main building or for our partnered facilities. That control panel is the same design as one that we use and there's a special emergency feature about it."
Murasame smirked. "If it becomes too damaged, say a few inches deep, the control panel will launch a protocol that will halt all processes that it's running for safety reasons."
As he explained, the liquid that was filling the test tube started to empty out. He would have loved to have the masked figure without their face covered, because their body language was insisting that they were stressed right now.
After a moment, the boy's consciousness started to come about. He glanced around to survey his surroundings, trying to figure out what's going on.
"... Mister Murasame?"
Murasame did his best to stand back on his feet, but he kept staggering his footing.
His injuries were surfacing again and it was evident to see. The pained expression stirred the boy awake almost immediately.
"What's going on!?"
"[You are quite the stubborn one, Murasame!]" Anger grabbed onto the masked figure's voice. "[This shall be the last mistake that you will ever make!]"
The masked figure held onto their baton tightly.
Without even regard for the boy, the masked figure closed the gap between them. At the speed he was coming at, one solid hit would knock out, or even kill, Murasame. Even so, he raised his arms to try to defend himself, but he didn't need to do such a thing.
"Mister Murasame!"
The sound of the wires being ripped and glass shattered echoed through the room, followed by a hard landing onto the ground. Almost instantly, the boy was right between the masked figure and Murasame. His fist was tightened as he stepped forward to retaliate.
"Mister Murasame helped me out! I have to return the favor!"
His fist struck forwards, but it was blocked by the baton. The masked figure jumped back a decent distance as the voice filter caught their tongue clicking.
"Are you alright, Mister Murasame?"
"I'm hanging in there," Murasame sighed. "You sure took your time waking up. And here, I was thinking I just screwed myself over. Good thing you proved me wrong."
"I'm sorry for having you help me again like this. You've been doing everything for nobody like me, so I need to repay you by letting you rest for now!"
"If I rest here, I'll only be an easy target. I can rest when the both of us are out of here."
Murasame didn't quite understand it.
Why did he care so much for this stranger that he would risk his own life to make sure that they would both escape this facility, even if the chances were slim to none?
Whatever it was, Murasame pushed it aside.
"[I was trying to keep things professional, but it would seem like there is no reason to keep things like that.]" The masked figure fixed their fedora and then held out their baton aggressively. "[I'll be personally eliminating you. Resist all you want, but you will find yourself in the grave soon enough.]"
Because he had bigger problems to worry about now.