The moon hung low and full overhead, partially obscured by wisps of silvery clouds. The night was still; insects buzzed and the rustlings of a few nocturnal animals disturbed the silence, but the noises of man were absent from the modest residential area.
That was just the way she liked it. It was much easier to hunt without such nuisances.
Stealthily, she slipped through the narrow spaces between houses, skirting the backs, avoiding the fronts where the streetlights would mark her to any spying eyes. Her prey was close. She sniffed the air tentatively for a whiff—
There!
Crouching low to the ground, she crept slowly forward, careful not to make the slightest sound. Ahead, her prey was standing still and silent...there was no wind tonight, so she was fairly sure she would not be scented...
Without a sound, she pounced, striking her target, slashing viciously, teeth bared, ready to make the kill. The prey tried to run, tried to scratch and bite its way to freedom, but to no avail.
Blood spattered the ground behind a two-story house.
The sound of bones being crunched by sharp, deadly teeth was masked by the buzzing of insects and the rustling of night animals in the trees above.
Hunger sated for now, she moved on...for she had much, much bigger prey to stalk.
And there would be far worse in store for her than an empty stomach if she failed the hunt.
"God, I hate this fucking country."
A few passersby stopped to peer curiously at the young blond woman leaning against the railing of a bridge. A group of senior citizens further down the walkway exchanged a few rapid-fire words, among which ‘gaijin’ could be picked out fairly easily.
The woman—a girl, really, no more than fifteen years of age—snorted, kicking a stray pebble into the canal below. "Yeah, that's right. Look down on the foreigner. I don't wanna be here any more than you stupid gits want me here." She sighed. "Just cos I'm no great shakes with the language doesn't mean I don't know when I'm being insulted. God, I hate this fucking country."
A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. She stiffened, but relaxed as a soft voice spoke into her ear, "I'm sorry your mum dragged you here, Mina."
The girl turned, leaning backwards against the railing, and smiled at the man behind her. He was in his late twenties, with long white hair tied back in a neat ponytail and stormy grey eyes. The ash grey suit he wore hung well on his broad-shouldered frame; every time she saw him, she felt her breath leave in a rush. "Well, at least I don't have to be alone in my misery," she said, wrapping her arms around him and lacing her fingers behind his head.
The mutterings of the old people grew in volume and venom as the blond girl and the tall, handsome, older gentleman committed an overt display of public affection. A mother with two small children passed by just as the two were kissing. Eyes narrowed, she hurried along, urgently whispering to her children not to look. An elderly woman behind her muttered something very unflattering as she passed, throwing a dark look at the foreign couple.
The man turned and caught her eye, and shot back, in flawless Japanese, "It's better than being a dried-up old prune, don't you think?"
The old woman snorted and stalked off.
The blond girl giggled. "I love it when you do that, you know."
"I know. That's why I do it." He disengaged from the embrace and leaned casually against the railing. "Don't let them get to you, Mina. You're half-Japanese. You have as much right to be here as they do."
"But I don't want to be here at ALL, Timothy!" Mina cried angrily, slamming a fist on the rail. "Why couldn't she have let me board back home and attend a public? Or send me to the American base? Anything would've been better than THIS!" She gestured expansively. "I don't like Japan." She sniffled and leaned into the older man's chest.
He sighed and held her, bowing his head to kiss the top of hers. "I know. But I'm going to try to make it as bearable for you as I can."
She looked up at him, sapphire eyes damp. "Is it really okay for you to be here?"
He shrugged. "My job doesn't require me to actually be in any certain place. In fact, it may be better that I came here, because I've gotten wind of things happening that'll be a lot easier for me to stay on top of if I'm in the area."
Mina frowned. "So you're here more for your job than you are for me, are you?"
"No, love," Timothy replied, holding her close. "You know that you're the most important thing in the world to me. I'd be here even if it meant losing my job and living out of bins."
She giggled. "I can't see you eating other peoples' rubbish, Timothy."
"Hey, I wasn't always such a wealthy playboy," he replied in a teasing tone. He then sobered. "But actually, I have something important I need to talk to you about. I told you not long after we met that I might need your help with something someday, remember?" At her nod, he continued, "Well, the time's come."
She stared up at him, blue eyes wide. "What is it, Timothy?" she asked.
He looked around, and shook his head. "Not here. Not now." He handed her a business card with an address scrawled on the back. "There's a little bar in the third street district. Meet me there whenever you can. I'll be waiting."
She nodded and pocketed the card. "I have to go now. Mum's probably taking a fit."
"See you, love."
* * * * *
"We apologise for intruding and thank you graciously for welcoming us into your home."
"It is our pleasure. Please do not think too unkindly of us."
A round of bows were exchanged, and six people knelt around the low table. On one side, a woman in her forties, wearing a sky blue kimono, began pouring tea, while the fortysomething salaryman in a black suit next to her adjusted his square-framed glasses and looked across the table at the visitors. On his other side sat a girl of perhaps fourteen, who was desperately trying not to squirm uncomfortably, an expression of placid, helpless misery on her face. Her tea-coloured hair was not arranged in the traditional manner, but rather had been done up in twin buns on the side of her head around which cords of gold silk had been tied. Her light pink kimono spoke little of her stature or build, and her hands were folded in her lap.
Across the table sat a couple in their fifties, nicely but not as formally attired, and a young man clad in a simple yet elegant black hakama and uwagi. His dark, sharp eyes were narrowed harshly as he looked across the table at the girl, who squirmed slightly under his scrutiny.
The older man spoke, running a hand absently through his dark grey hair. "Tsukino-sama, we are honoured that you have chosen to meet with us to discuss this arrangement of union between our families." He paused. "Mamoru is not of my blood. Had I an heir that shared my bloodline, I would present him instead, but I do not. I therefore humbly request that you consider Mamoru even though he is adopted, and hope that presenting a son who is not my son for this meeting does not dishonour my family in your eyes."
The salaryman scrutinised Mamoru, then nodded. "It is unfortunate. However, blood is not always nearly as important as spirit. Does Mamoru consider himself to truly be the heir of the Chiba family?"
"I do," Mamoru spoke, nodding.
"I see. In that case, I have nothing against accepting him as your heir, if my wife also harbours no objections."
"I defer to the judgement of my husband," said the woman pouring the tea. "However, I would like to know more about the young man to whom we are considering betrothing our daughter."
"As would I."
"We expected this," the elder Chiba nodded, passing a folder across the table to the salaryman. "These are Mamoru's school transcripts, his entrance examination scores, his plans for university, and a career survey he filled out recently. Mamoru is eighteen and has graduated high school at the top of his class. He is extremely intelligent, placed well on all his examinations, will be attending Tokyo University, and has very promising prospects for the future. He is also a very hard worker and not prone to distraction or procrastination. He dedicates himself completely to anything he sets himself to, and has been invaluable to us since becoming a member of our family."
The Tsukino patriarch paused to consider all this as he perused the paperwork in the folder. After several minutes, he nodded. "Everything seems to indicate that he is exactly the kind of son-in-law we desire. I accept him as my daughter's iinazuke."
There was a long silence. The salaryman elbowed his daughter subtly.
"Even though I am unworthy, please treat me kindly," she said quietly, not meeting Mamoru's gaze. Mamoru nodded stiffly, but said nothing. His eyes were still angry.
"Well then," the girl's father said, his tone now far more casual and relaxed, "why don't you two go get to know each other without us interfering?"
Mamoru stood bolt upright, posture stiff, fists clenched. Usagi carefully, somewhat unsteadily rose to her feet, bowed to both her parents and Mamoru's, then glanced at her new fiance briefly before casting her eyes away. "Please follow me," she said softly. The older boy followed without a word.
* * * * *
Usagi frowned fretfully as she led Mamoru to her room upstairs. In the Tsukino house, it was the only place the two of them could be out of the way and speak privately. She felt very nervous about having a boy in her room, as well as about the arranged marriage. She'd gone along with it because she didn't have a problem with the idea of arranged marriages, and because...well, this wasn't the time to get lost in such thoughts, she told herself. Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned to face her iinazuke. "I am a disappointment to you," she stated plainly.
Mamoru's face remained hard, impassive.
"I understand. I'm not very smart, or very pretty, and I am younger than you. You were probably hoping for—"
"What are your dreams?"
Usagi blinked. "Eh?"
"Your dreams. Your desires. What is it you want out of life?"
The unexpected question threw Usagi for a loop. "Anou...eto..." She sat down on her bed, smoothing out her kimono as she did so, and gazed upward thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, the one thing I've always wanted was to be a bride, and to have a beautiful wedding."
"You're saying that for my benefit. Be honest with me."
"I am being honest," Usagi replied a bit hotly. "Ever since I was a little girl, I've dreamed of churches and wedding bells and white gowns. I've always seen myself getting married to a handsome man and sharing a kiss..." She blushed. "Well, that's my dream."
"That's...all?"
She blinked. "All what?"
Mamoru scowled at her. "Your entire life's ambition is to have a wedding?"
Usagi thought about that for a minute. "Un..."
Mamoru clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his shoulders shook with anger. "Useless. You're..." He looked suddenly up at Usagi, eyes angry and cold. "You're utterly useless!"
"I am NOT useless!" Usagi shouted, standing and stamping her foot. "Just because I don't have big dreams and I'm not going to Toudai and don't have my future all mapped out doesn't mean I'm useless! You have no right to say such a thing!"
Mamoru turned away from her and gazed out the window. "There is more to my destiny than an empty-headed girl such as you could possibly imagine."
"Empty-headed..." Usagi stared at him, shellshocked. She then picked up a seldom-used dictionary from her desk and threw it at the back of his head.
"Itai!" Mamoru span on his heel and glared at her, rubbing his head. "What was that for, you stupid—"
"For calling me stupid and empty-headed and useless!" Usagi cried. "You don't have the right to treat other people any way you see fit just because you're smart! I can't believe I'm engaged to such a...a...JERK!"
Mamoru shook his head. "There's no help for it now. I never wanted this. The last thing I want is a wife, when I have a destiny to pursue. But..." He looked down. "Otousama and Okaasama...it's their desire that I marry...even though I have no wish for it, it's so little to give them for all they've given me..." With another sigh, he stood, looking Usagi directly in the eye. "For them, I will accept this. We will be married. But remember that my destiny is far more important to me than anything. Do not stand in the way of it."
Usagi scowled. "Don’t worry. I won’t. Husband." With that, she stalked from the room in a high temper.
Mamoru watched her retreating back for a moment, then snorted. *Otousama, Okaasama, the sacrifice I’m making for you...*
Usagi reappeared suddenly. "Why am I leaving? This is my room. You should be the one to go."
"That was my intention," Mamoru replied before departing.
As he left, Usagi sighed deeply and sank onto her bed. "What. A. JERK!"
* * * * *
*I feel it. It's close now...I'm very near.*
*We are running out of time. Please complete your mission as soon as possible.*
*I understand. I'm doing my best.*
*Complete your mission before we run out of time.*
*Hai.*
* * * * *
"Your crows have been rather uneasy of late, granddaughter."
Hino Rei glanced up into the trees surrounding Hikawa Jinja. "It is an omen, Jijiue. Something dark approaches. I have seen visions in the sacred fire of an evil beyond measure—"
"Actually, I think it's because that cat's hanging around again. You know, the one that bit you last week?"
Rei blinked down at her grandfather, then looked across the temple grounds. A small grey kitten lay curled up on the counter from which she sold omamori to visitors. It yawned toothily.
"...that cat is possessed of a great evil, Jijiue."
"Mm-hmm. And sharp teeth." The old priest chuckled. "Finish your chores, Rei-chan."
"Hai."
* * * * *
She scowled as she slipped away from the rear of the shrine and slunk down the hill. It was risky to move so openly in broad daylight, but she had no choice—the thrice-damned ravens knew she was there. And further, so did the miko, if what she had heard was accurate.
Luckily, they'd failed to discover her because of that idiotic kitten. She'd watched the temperamental little hairball terrorise various people across three districts since she'd begun her mission, and was frankly amazed at the audacity it showed in its treatment of the humans here.
She also noted, with wry amusement, that it seemed to have a particular fondness for harassing girls with long dark hair who never seemed to smile.
Shaking her head, she berated herself for getting distracted by such irrelevant musings. She needed to keep the shrine under surveillance, but that wouldn't be easy to do without giving herself away—and if she dared to approach the priestess openly, she could come out much the worse for it. Not only had she seen the girl's kendou practise, she was also painfully aware that her spiritual prowess was formidable.
No, openly alarming a Shinto miko would not be a wise move. Not now.
A loud bark drew her attention. She glanced along the street she'd emerged on and saw a large, shaggy, filthy mutt. She cursed—how had she let herself be spotted so easily by such a base creature? The dog was sure to alert someone to her presence, and its bark was particularly grating at a time when she was already extremely irritated.
Perhaps a small diversion was exactly what she needed to get back on track. She thought about it for a moment, and a deadly smirk found its way onto her lips. Yes...that would be very, very nice. She crouched low to the ground, tensed, readying her claws. Her eyes burned with unholy crimson fire.
It was time to kill.
* * * * *
Kino Makoto smiled and bid the man goodbye as he left her flat, calling cheerful but empty platitudes at his retreating back.
As soon as she could close and bolt the door, she raced to the toilet and retched.
"Never. Again. Not even for TRIPLE the rate."
Wiping her mouth, she walked over to the desk in a corner of her living room and picked up a brown marker pen, with which she crossed out a name in a small notebook. The brown mark would remind her why she had just blacklisted a paying customer, without anyone who found the notebook by accident ever knowing some rather embarrassing details.
Walking back to the bathroom, she grabbed a bottle of mouthwash from her medicine cabinet and spent five whole minutes gargling, then dropped her terrycloth robe on the floor and ran herself a hot bath. She always took a long, hot bath after a job. Especially after a job like tonight. As an afterthought, she added a sizeable amount of bubblebath to the water. Testing it with a toe, she nodded to herself, then slid into the tub and gave a heavy sigh.
She leaned back, not caring that her loose hair was floating in a halo around her. She looked up at the ceiling of the bathroom, and wondered for the millionth time if it was all worth it. Her grades were terrible, she knew. Her teachers constantly pressured her to attend juku. They warned her that her attitude and her study habits were going to ruin her future.
What the hell did they know, anyway? Her future was already ruined from the day her parents died.
For the millionth time, she pondered putting an end to it all. Not in the most final sense—Kino Makoto was a survivor, and the last thing she'd even consider doing would be to take her own life. But her situation was...less than ideal. She wondered if perhaps she should admit she couldn't hack it, break out of the deal she was in, and live out her teen years in an orphanage the way she should have done to begin with.
Then she remembered the reason she struggled so hard to stay out of an orphanage, and shuddered. No...she could deal with her situation. There was no need to do anything stupid that might end up being even worse.
The phone rang. She sighed and picked up the receiver she kept by the tub. "Hai, moshi-moshi..."
She listened for a long moment. "Haaai..."
"...no, I can't. I told you, I can't do two in one night. I'm still in school, remember? I have to do my homework sometime. I'm in enough trouble there as it is."
"...but..."
"...wait, now..."
"...haaaaai."
Turning off the phone, Makoto sighed, growled out a few choice swear words, then drained the bath. She rinsed off the suds from the bubblebath with the showerhead, then toweled herself and dried her hair as quickly as possible. She then raced over to her closet and selected a dark green qipao, white silk panties, and slippers. She dressed rapidly, put her hair up in what she hoped would pass for a Chinese style, and applied just a bit of makeup.
She barely finished before the doorbell rang.
It was time to go to work.
* * * * *
The night was a time of danger. A time for predators. A time for dark dealings in secluded shadows. A time for...
"*BELCH*"
Homeless drunks to sleep off the day's fortified wine.
Satoshi was one of thousands of homeless people living on the streets of Tokyo. He'd once been a successful salaryman, with a family and a good life. Then, he'd had a moment of indiscretion—with a nine-year-old girl. His wife had found out from his employer, who had found out from his secretary, who had been looking for anything to use against him to get him fired since he had begun making unwanted sexual advances on her.
He hadn't been charged criminally for the incident. He had, however, lost his job, and his wife had divorced him. She'd moved out with the kids, gotten an apartment in Kyoto, and started a new life without him.
He'd lost his house, and since no company would hire him anymore, he ended up on the street, wearing the same clothes for weeks on end and perpetually clutching a bottle of cheap, nasty sake.
Satoshi belched again, scratched at his scalp—he had developed lice sometime in the past week—and drained the last dregs from his bottle, then tossed it aside. It clunked dully against the wall behind him, then rolled out of sight under a dumpster. He heaved a loud sigh and slumped to the pavement. With no more booze, it was now time for sleep.
As he was drifting off, a rustling from the other end of the alley told his alcohol-fogged mind he wasn't alone. "Hooz'err?" he slurred, squinting blearily into the shadows.
There was no reply. Eventually, he shrugged and began to drift off to sleep again.
Some minutes later, a woman in a featureless black coverall emerged from the other end of the alley. She had pale skin, eyes like flints, and fiery hair set in a stiff, crown-shaped pile atop her head. A dark smile crossed crimson lips as she drew a slender stiletto, carved from obsidian, from her belt. Without ceremony, she pierced the throat of the sleeping bum. He gurgled wetly, coughing blood. His eyes shot open.
She placed a finger across her lips. "Shh," she advised. "I've just killed you. Go back to sleep, it'll be less painful that way."
Satoshi's eyes widened in panic. He tried to make a sound, but all he could get out was a wet gurgle. Blood dribbled onto his shabby clothes.
The woman waited silently until Satoshi fell still. She casually checked for a pulse, and nodded when she found none. She then withdrew a small chunk of yellow crystal from a pouch on her belt and inserted it into the hole in her victim's throat. A dull amber glow lit the dark bloodstains on his shirt briefly, then subsided.
Satisfied, the red-haired woman retreated into the shadows, leaving the alley unnaturally still and quiet in her wake.
* * * * *
Mina frowned as she hung up the phone. It was rare for Timothy to turn off his cell...was something wrong?
"Minako-chan? Nani shiteru no?"
"Nothing, Mum," Mina replied.
"Minako-chan! Nihongo de hanashite kudasai!"
Mina sighed. "Haaaaaaaai."
* * * * *
Makoto yawned mightily as she walked back into her flat. Bolting the door, she slipped off her shoes, tossed her purse over onto the sofa, and walked over to the desk in the corner.
She had been reluctant to take a second job in one night, especially after the horror the previous one was, but this one had turned out alright. He'd been very courteous, very suave, and hadn't asked her to do anything terribly disgusting. And he was a foreigner, which was at least a change for her—she was getting very, very tired of fortysomething salarymen clients, and the handsome British gentleman had been interesting. He was also a big tipper; he'd paid fifty thousand yen over the fee—money she wouldn't have to report to her employer. It felt good to have a bit of spare cash on hand. She wondered if he was going to be in the country long, and if he'd be calling upon her again.
Picking up a black pen, she carefully wrote the name of her new favourite client in her notebook:
ARTURO Timothy S.
Capping her pen and closing her notebook, she yawned again, tucked her money in the locked desk drawer, and shuffled off to her room, collapsing tiredly on her bed, still dressed.
* * * * *
"Ne, Usagi-chan, what's wrong? You seem really down this morning."
Usagi and her best friend Osaka Naru were on their way to school. For a change, Usagi was on time, though she was rather listless. Her hair, once again in its customary twin ponytails, drooped limply at her sides, and the normal cheerfulness Naru had come to rely on from her habitually tardy friend was gone, replaced with something...weary.
Usagi glanced at Naru. She was a bit on the short side, and liked to dye her frizzy, shoulder-length hair red. Her mother was a jeweller, and Naru herself knew quite a bit about minerals and gemstones, but there wasn't anything outstanding about her. She, like Usagi herself, was a perfectly normal, average junior high student in a blue-skirted seifuku, just like the thousands upon thousands of other similarly unimportant girls in Japan.
Today, however, Usagi had one thing going for her that Naru did not—a fiance. This, however, was far from a blessing in Usagi's opinion. She sighed. "My parents sprang a surprise on me this weekend."
Naru blinked. "A surprise?"
"An omiai."
The shorter girl gasped. "Uso!"
Usagi nodded. "Un. I'm...engaged now."
"Usagi-chan! That's..." Naru looked at her friend with a wide smile. "That's great! It's what you've always wanted, right?"
Usagi laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess."
Naru stared at her as they walked in silence for a moment. "You...don't like him, though."
The tea-haired girl shook her head. "He doesn't like me. And...okay, he's kinda good looking, but he's a real jerk. And has scary eyes. He's always got a mean look in them, and I don't like it. And he called me useless."
"That's awful!" Naru turned to face her friend, eyes flashing. "What kind of jerk says such things to his fiancee?"
"He didn't want one to begin with," Usagi said, shrugging. "He's doing it to make his parents happy. His adopted family."
Naru blinked. "He's adopted?"
"Un." The girls were nearing their school now; they could see the clock tower over the next rise. "He seems to care a lot about them, since he's doing it for their sake." She sighed. "I guess that means he's a nice guy somewhere inside, but...there's just so much JERK on top of that..."
Naru sighed. "Poor Usagi-chan."
* * * * *
He sat on a bench in the park, drinking a can of coffee, lost deep in thought.
There had been something about the girl from the night before. Something very, very special. And it hadn't just been her dress. Or her chest. Or that thing she did with her tongue.
No, there was something important about her. He just knew it. Just as he'd known there was something important about Mina from the day they'd met. Thinking about her, he remembered their talk from the day before, and started to reach for his phone—only to stop as he was suddenly tackled from behind. A curtain of golden hair swished into his field of vision, and he grinned. *Perfect timing.*
"Hey Timothy, where were you last night? I tried to call you, but..."
The white-haired man chuckled as he embraced his young blond girlfriend. "Sorry, Mina. I had a late business meeting. I had to turn off my cell—couldn't be interrupted."
Mina pouted, then smiled. "Well, just be sure to let me know next time so I don't get worried sick, okay? I don't know what I'd do if I lost touch with you and you disappeared on me."
Timothy smiled his easygoing, rakish smile, the one that had melted her heart from the day they met. "Don't worry, Mina. I'll always be around for you."
She nodded. "So, about what you wanted to talk to me about. I mean, I know you want to discuss it at that bar, but..."
The Englishman thought about it for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. As a matter of fact, I know a place we can go to have privacy right now. If you've got time."
"Sure," Mina chirped. "Let's go."
* * * * *
"There she goes again."
"The Book Queen of Juuban."
"She doesn't have any friends, you know?"
"Are you surprised?"
"Isn't it weird? Don't you think it's weird to walk around with your nose in a book all day?"
"Yeah...she's weird. And nasty! You ever try talking to her?"
"Eww! You talked to her?! WHY?!"
"Yeah, don't you know being seen talking to the Book Queen is bad for your reputation?"
"I just got here a month ago, remember? Anyway. I tried to be nice to her and she's like, really bitchy! Who needs it?"
"Yeah, really. Best to let friendless little Book Queen Mizuno Ami be."
The girls were conversing in a manner that suggested they were trying to keep their discussion private, and yet obviously wanted the subject of the conversation to overhear every single word. It was a classic tactic, and one Ami was well used to.
It didn't faze her in the least. She calmly turned the page in her text, pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, and continued reading.
Friends. She had no use for them. Socialisation was a distraction from her purpose, an unneeded bump on the road to intellectual perfection. In her estimation, school would be far better off without her classmates. Without some of her teachers too, for that matter. Most of the teachers were as dull and dim-witted as those they strove to "educate". Ami had long since learned to drown out her instructors and absorb herself in her own personal studies, while keeping part of her awareness open in the event that she was called upon to give an answer.
She always knew the correct answer, and the teachers knew that. Those that didn't know, learned soon enough. Then they stopped trying to make an example of her in class for not paying attention.
She had no use for such things. Her mind was so far above everyone and everything around her that she often wondered why she bothered—there were ways around the system, ways to bypass the drudge and devote oneself to pure intellectual improvement.
But her mother, the poor deluded soul, felt otherwise. Tried and failed repeatedly to turn her daughter into a social creature. Her mother, the doctor, a woman who knew how important studying and bettering oneself were. What was her game, that she tried to set blocks along her daughter's path to perfection?
The last of the straggling students filed into the room, the bell rang, and soon the teacher began the homeroom hour. Ami dispassionately turned one ear toward the droning voice of the teacher and continued her own study, independent of the curriculum.
Mizuno Ami was a class unto herself.
* * * * *
//—continue to be baffled at the recent outbreak of murders among the homeless community. The seventh victim was discovered in an alley last night, bearing the same wounds as the other six. Although thus far the victims have all been homeless persons, police nevertheless urge caution to all citizens. Turning to other news, there will be a special exhibition at the Museum of Mineralogy and Geology this afternoon of the Platina Selen, a unique and valuable gem that has fascinated mineralogists worldwide. Reknowned for its spectacular silver lustre, the Platina Selen—//
Mamoru glanced up from his book, setting his coffee down as he watched the television in the corner of the small cafe with interest. The news reporter was interviewing the museum curator about the exhibit, and behind them, the case bearing the gem could be seen. He frowned thoughtfully. *A shining silver gem...could it be...?*
* * * * *
Mina blushed furiously as she saw where Timothy was leading her. "Hey, wait a minute..."
The white-haired man glanced at his companion. "What's wrong?"
Mina looked down at her shoes, face as red as the ribbon in her hair. "Um...this is a love hotel."
"Right."
"But, um, this...I mean...it's so sudden. We agreed...I mean...you know, waiting and—"
Timothy blinked, then chuckled. "We're not here for THAT, Mina." He then grinned at her and winked. "Unless you want to—"
Mina squeaked. "No! I mean, um, that's okay. I was just surprised."
The older man nodded. "I just picked this place because we won't be bothered here. We can talk privately and not worry about anyone listening in or interrupting us."
"I guess, but..." Mina flushed again. "What—I mean, won't people think it's a little strange? Us, going in—"
"Mina. This is JAPAN. You could be twelve and I could be eighty and nobody would bat an eyelash."
Mina blinked. "Really?" She shook her head. "This place gets weirder by the day."
Timothy chuckled. "Come on, let's go."
* * * * *
"Iinazuke?!"
Several of Usagi's classmates were gathered around her desk. Mostly girls, but a few boys, chief among them the class geek, Umino Gurio.
Naru had to feel sorry for the pasty, scrawny, pimply-faced, messy-haired boy. He'd been nursing a crush on Usagi since the third grade, but had never gotten so much as a kind word from her—mainly because he was annoying and weird.
"Who is he? What's he like? Is he cute?" These questions came flying at Usagi from every direction. The ponytailed girl sighed, morosely picking at her bento—a sure sign of depression for her, as she usually ate more voraciously than the average lion.
"Come on, guys, lay off her," Naru said.
"At least tell us SOMETHING!" a chubby girl cried.
Umino laid his iPad on the desk. It displayed a picture of a stern-looking youth in a dark green jacket and black shirt and a long list of information. "Chiba Mamoru. I looked him up on a scholastic search engine. Graduated last term, first in his class, already passed the entrance exams and has been accepted to Toudai." He sniffed, adjusting his thick round glasses. "His interests are mineralogy and botany. The guy’s a real stiff, if you ask me."
"Ahh! He’s gorgeous!"
"So cool-looking!"
"And he’s so smart! Toudai! Usagi-chan, you’re so LUCKY!"
Usagi’s head dropped closer to her bento. "Yeah. Lucky me." She sighed. "Can you guys drop it, please? I don’t want to talk about it right now..."
Of course, when teenage girls are in the mood to gossip, they are not easily silenced, and Usagi was forced to endure the squealings and natterings of her classmates for several minutes. Naru sat beside her, patting her arm sympathetically.
"Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is," Umino sniffed.
"You’re just jealous."
"Yeah, because he’s smarter AND better-looking."
"And taller. And older."
"And he’s—"
"Excuse me."
Everyone started at the interruption. Usagi and Naru also looked up; it was rare that Mizuno Ami strayed from her desk during lunch, much less spoke to anyone.
"Tsukino-san. Your engagement is certainly a major event in your life, and frankly, it is a miracle that a man bound for Toudai would accept you, of all people, as a bride. However, there are people here who did not just earn a free ride in life, who are very concerned about their exams, and who would much appreciate some peace and quiet so they can study. Please be respectful of this and postpone your celebration for hours outside the school day."
With that, she retreated to her desk, everyone staring at her.
Usagi slumped so far in her desk that her nose landed in her rice. *What did I ever do to deserve this?*
* * * * *
Timothy closed and locked the door. Mina looked around; she'd never been in one of these places before, but she'd seen pictures of some of them, and had been expecting something gaudy, with pink silk on the walls and mirrors on the ceiling and a heart-shaped bed.
Instead, it actually looked a lot like her bedroom. Very normal, very neat, very functional. Only with a lot fewer stuffed animals.
"Mina...what I'm about to tell you might sound a little odd."
She turned. Timothy seemed to be fidgeting nervously; she'd never quite seen him in such a state. He was always cool and collected in every situation she'd ever witnessed him in. She smiled and sat down on the bed. "Hey, I'm an odd kind of girl. Go ahead."
Timothy took one of the well-padded chairs from the small breakfast nook in the corner of the room, turned it backwards, and straddled it. "I've never actually told you what it is I do."
Mina shrugged. "I never asked. No offence, but business stuff is kinda boring to me."
The white-haired man chuckled. "True, I suppose it would be. It's rather boring to me as well." He gazed levelly at her. "But 'business stuff' isn't actually what I do. It's just a means to an end."
The blond blinked, tilting her head slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Mina..." Timothy sighed. "I'm...I guess you could say I'm kind of a wizard. Of sorts."
This was met with a blank stare.
"Not a very good one, I'm afraid," he added with a soft chuckle. "More in theory than in practise, really."
"What kind of a wizard? Pinball wizard, computer wizard, what?"
"A wizard wizard. As in magic."
Mina blinked. Several times. Then she snorted. "What, like in Harry Potter?"
Timothy sighed and pulled a slim, tapered stick with a black handle and a white shaft from his jacket. It looked much like a conductor's baton. He tapped it on the back of the chair; it changed colour from off-white to a particularly violent purple.
Mina's eyes widened. "Wha—how—"
"As I said," Timothy replied, changing the chair's colour back to normal.
Mina was silent for a long moment. "...bloody hell."
Timothy chuckled. "Yes, quite." He coughed. "But as I said, I'm not good for much more than little tricks like that. It's more reading about things that interests me, not actually doing them."
"Still...wow."
"Mina," the white-haired man said, leaning forward. He looked very solemn now. "One thing I study a lot of is prophecy, and lesser-known legends of the world. One such legend says that the world—all the worlds, in fact—were once ruled from the moon."
"The moon?"
"Yes. A great magical civilisation existed there, and a powerful queen ruled everything. But there was a war—a terrible war. The enemy was vicious, their armies comprised of demons and corrupted soldiers from all the worlds. Their advance was stopped on the moon, but at great cost—the great empire that once existed was destroyed. The enemy was sealed away in a place of darkness, thought never to return. But it has been theorised that one day, a way might be found for them to return." He paused dramatically. "They have done so now."
Mina stared at him for a long moment. "That sounds like some crazy comic book."
"It's no joke, and it's no comic book," Timothy replied. "I've learned to watch for the signs. I've become rather obsessed with this particular legend. The enemy that once laid waste to a dozen worlds has returned. Much weaker, yes. But they cannot be allowed to gain power." He eyed her intently. "That's where you come in."
"Me? Wha—how? What's this got to do with me?"
"The queen of the moon was championed by four elite warriors. All female. All extremely powerful. It is said that before her death, she cast a spell that sent the souls of her warriors and her daughter ahead in time—a spell that ensured they would be reborn at the time the enemy found its way back from the darkness."
Mina stared at him. "You think I'm one of them, don't you?"
"I'm not certain, but I have a fair hunch you are."
The blond stood and began pacing. "Is—is that why you started dating me? Followed me to Japan? Over some stupid fairy tale?"
Timothy shook his head. "No...don't misunderstand me, love. I would prefer it if I'm wrong, and you're not...but I've learned how to see the signs, the ley lines...everything I know about this says you're one of the four."
Mina sank back onto the bed. "That's stupid. I mean...I don't even know how to fight."
"There's a way to know for certain," Timothy said. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, tucked it into his fist, and tapped it with his wand. When he unfurled it, a wide golden bracelet dropped to the floor with a soft clink.
Mina stared at it. "What's that?"
"An artefact of the moon empire. It's said that if the reincarnation of one of the four warriors wears this, she will be reborn, and call upon great power to battle the enemy from the darkness." He gestured at it with his wand.
Mina reached for it. "You're really serious about all this, aren't you?" At Timothy's nod, she sighed. "Alright, I'll humour you." She began to unclasp the bracelet...
"Not right now. Not here, and not until I say," Timothy interrupted quickly.
The blond blinked at him. "Huh? But..."
"If you are one of the four warriors, and you restore your powers now, it will alert the enemy. They will know, and they will be able to prepare for you. If you have the power, you cannot use it until it's absolutely necessary—until they least expect it."
"That makes sense," Mina shrugged. She reclasped the bracelet and stuffed it into her handbag. "So...there's three others. How do you expect to find them? There's an awful lot of places to look."
Timothy smiled. "Actually, I believe I already found a second. I met someone last night. A...serving girl. At the meeting. The ley lines were strong around her. She might be another warrior." He paused. "But I need to know first if I'm right. If you ARE one of them. I'd prefer not to go around making people think I've just fallen out of a tree if—well—if I really have just fallen out of a tree." He chuckled nervously.
Mina laughed. "I guess so. Hell, I'm the most likely to believe you, and even I think you've gone spare." She sighed. "But you've proven you're not a complete nutter, so...I'll keep this in mind. If...if it's true, I guess I had to find out sooner or later, no?"
The white-haired man nodded, repocketing his handkerchief and wand. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner, Mina. I'm sorry I kept so much from you."
"Just...tell me one thing," the blond interrupted. "Is there anything else you're keeping from me?"
Timothy smiled. "Hey, a man has to have his little secrets, love. We all do." With that, he strolled toward the door and unlocked it. "Shall we be off, then?"
"Yeah...I gotta get home, Mum wants to take me shopping." Mina sighed. "I'll call you later, okay?"
"Sure thing. And remember what I said. Be careful."
"Got it."
* * * * *
"Cheer up, Usagi-chan. You can't let this iinazuke thing get you down. I know! Why don't we plan a big weekend out? We can shop for manga, find a new place for karaoke..."
Usagi smiled slightly. "Yeah...I guess you’re right. The last few days have been pretty lousy, but that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. Thanks, Naru-chan."
"Hey, what are best friends for?"
* * * * *
Mamoru gave the receptionist a handful of coins and received a laminated badge which he clipped onto his shirt pocket. He bowed, thanked her, and quickly joined the museum tour. He pretended to be interested in the long-winded, boring lecture on the history of chrysoberyl and various offshoots of jade, found himself intrigued by an exhibition of unusual samples of quartz found on a partially submerged island in the Indian Ocean, and suffered through the round of questions about everything from geodes to diamonds to things the questioners clearly had no working knowledge of.
At last, they came to the part he was truly interested in.
"And here we have the Platina Selen," the guide said. "You're very fortunate to be able to see this rare specimen—it's been passed down through a very wealthy family for hundreds of years, and is usually kept sealed in a private vault. The most recent heir to the gem has decided that it's a crime to keep something so beautiful locked up, however, so it's now on tour at museums worldwide. We'll only have it for three days, but we're excited nevertheless, and are pleased to be able to present this extraordinary and mysterious jewel to you.
"The Platina Selen has only been in the hands of mineralogists once in its existence. Five years ago, the previous owner of the gem allowed a small group of respected researchers to study a shard of the jewel. They were unable to determine its chemical composition, and its lattice structure is unlike anything ever seen. It does not conform to any known naturally-occurring mineral phenomenon on Earth, and the conclusion reached by the researchers was that it arrived here embedded in a meteorite at some unknown time in the past, and is not of this world." He paused to let that sink in; there were some oohs and aahs and a few chuckles. "Say what you will, it's entirely possible. It's not uncommon for bits of completely unknown rocks and minerals to wind up here from space. It's just that there's rarely enough of them left to really examine once they arrive here. At nine carats, the Platina Selen is the largest sample of a non-terrestrial mineral ever discovered."
The tour ended shortly thereafter; Mamoru returned to where he had parked his motorcycle and checked it to make sure nothing had been stolen. He mounted the bike and raced across town, stopping fifteen minutes later on a bridge overlooking a sizeable park with a lake in the centre. He leaned his bike against the railing and frowned. "It might be—I might have found it this time. The Maboroshi no Ginzuishou..."
He unlocked the storage compartment of his bike and glanced at the garment bag there. He nodded grimly.
"I'll do it tonight."
* * * * *
*Report.*
*I'm still searching...are you absolutely sure she's in this city?*
*Positive. I can feel her. Also, I've made contact with one of the Senshi.*
*Which one?*
*That's irrelevant, and none of your concern. The only thing you should be worrying about is finding the Princess.*
*I told you, I'm doing the best I can.*
*Hurry. There's one of them in this city too.*
*I know. You forget who you're talking to.*
*And you forget who's in charge here, and what'll happen if you screw up and we don't find the Princess in time.*
*Yes, yes...alright, I'll find her, don't worry.*
*You do that.*
* * * * *
"Tadaima," Usagi called as she walked in the door and stepped out of her shoes.
"Perfect timing, dear!" Her mother called from the kitchen. "I have a job for you."
Usagi groaned. "Mama...I'm tired. It's been a really long day."
"U-sa-gi," the older woman said sternly, hands on her hips. "I made snacks for you—"
"Snacks?" Usagi said, perking up. "Oh, thank you—"
"—to share with your fiance," her mother finished.
Usagi deflated. "Don't tell me that jerk is coming over again," she sighed.
"Don't speak that way about your fiance. And actually, he isn't. Rather, you are going to visit him." She reached into the kitchen and picked up a wicker shopping bag. "Here, I've written directions to his apartment for you. Take these and go, and call me when you get there so I know you're not goofing off somewhere eating all this by yourself."
Usagi sighed deeply. "Haaaaai." She accepted the bag from her mother, stepped into her shoes, and walked back out the door.
* * * * *
She slipped behind a brick fence as a group of schoolgirls walked past. She growled inwardly. Human teenagers were so irritating...
Suddenly, she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in the centre of her forehead, as though someone were driving a white-hot dagger into her skull. She staggered deeper into the hedges on her side of the fence, the pain so intense it was blinding her...
A scent penetrated the haze of pain, and her head snapped up sharply. Wincing, she cautiously peered out from her hiding place. The only person on the street now was a young girl, wearing one of the local schools' uniforms, carrying a wicker shopping bag. Her shoulders were slumped and her ponytailed hair drooped limply in her wake.
A second wave of pain hit. She nearly roared in agony, but held herself in check; she closed her eyes for a moment to brace against the pain. When she opened them again, she saw a small spatter of blackish drops; blood—her blood—upon the pavement. Another drop, then another, then several.
The pain slowly abated. Shaking her head to clear it, she looked again at the flat ebony stain on the ground before her. The blood had spilled in such a way as to form a pattern there—a crescent moon.
The blood magick had been activated. That could only mean one thing.
She dashed across the street and began following the tea-haired girl.
* * * * *
“Ho-kay, nobody’s claimin’ 441...burn ‘em.”
“On it.”
Tanaka Hiroshi, current head of the ward morgue, shook his head as he took a swig from his water bottle. “Man, it must suck, y’know? Bein’ homeless. Losin’ everything. An’ not even havin’ nobody that cares enough t’ make sure ya get a decent sendoff when ya croak.”
“Hey, boss? You did say 441, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
The white-coated morgue worker looked up from an empty metal drawer, eyes wide. “Nobody’s home.”
“What?” Hiroshi raced across the room, clipboard in hand, comparing the list to the drawer number. “But...what the...”
“You said this was one of the homeless guys, right?”
“Yeah, wh—” Hiroshi’s eyes widened. He scanned his clipboard, then raced down the row of drawers, located the one he was looking for, and yanked it open.
It was empty.
He checked two more drawers which should have had bodies in them. Both were empty. His assistant, catching on, began doing the same on the other side, and reported another three empty drawers where the bodies of homeless murder victims should lay awaiting cremation.
The two men stared at the cold, bare metal in shock. Hiroshi’s clipboard slipped from fingers that were suddenly numb from something far worse than the cold.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on here?”
* * * * *
"I'll be home when I get home, Mum! Yes, I know. Look, I just want to get a little fresh air, you know? See the city. I might get to like it if I explore a little. Yeah. Okay, love you. Bye."
Mina closed the connection and slipped her mobile back into her purse with a sigh. Truthfully, she'd just wanted to get away from her irritating mother for a while. She walked down the street, looking at the people going this way and that. The sun was setting; already the moon could be seen overhead, though few stars would penetrate the curtain of pollution that hung over Tokyo.
There wasn't really much of interest in this part of town, of course. She was near some museum, and the shops around the area were either too quaint to bother with, or too pricey to risk going into. There was a nice little cafe nearby, of course, but that was about all that held her interest.
Feeling the need for a break, she bought a cold juice from a vending machine and leaned against the wall of a shop that sold rocks and things. She watched people pass by as she sipped her juice, enjoying the not-terribly-unpleasant evening breeze. A few cars passed, and there was a guy on a motorcycle over there.
Pulling into an alley.
And climbing up a fire escape carrying something.
Mina blinked. That was not normal.
Tossing her half-finished juice in a handy recycling bin, she moved to find a better vantage point, even as the guy with the bike disappeared onto a nearby rooftop.
"He's DEFINITELY up to something," Mina thought. She briefly pondered calling the police...
...then she remembered her visit with Timothy that afternoon. And the bracelet sitting in her handbag.
"Hmmm..."
* * * * *
He slipped out of the ventilation shaft and brushed some dust off his shoulders. Silently, he glanced around the corner. Two guards. He reached into his jacket and withdrew two long-stemmed red roses. Leaning around and checking to make sure he had a clear line of fire and wouldn't be spotted, he swept his hand out, flinging the flowers at the security personnel.
Precision aim. First guard hit in the neck, second near the elbow, striking a vein. The men barely had time to blink at the rose sprouting out of the second guard's arm before both slumped to the ground unconscious.
Nodding to himself, he strode into the atrium, cape sweeping behind him. He drew another rose from his jacket and held his cane at the ready, keeping a lookout in all directions in case there were any hidden guards.
He reached the exhibit room without further incident. There it was—the Platina Selen. He glanced around the room for a minute, looking for any obvious signs of surveillance cameras. Of course, a museum with any degree of pride in its security would keep the cameras well out of sight—and there were none to be seen, indeed. Hmm.
Aha! There. A tiny, unobtrusive, opaque wall panel, designed to look like a burnt-out light. Grinning, he turned and bowed to it, sweeping his hat off his head grandiosely. As he did so, he pressed a stud on the top of his cane.
So much for the camera.
Now, for the tricky part.
Frowning, he reached up and touched a slender, concealed dial on the edge of his mask. A set of thin red lenses slid into the silk eyescreens. Approaching the gem display cautiously, he reached inside his hat and unzipped a small pocket there. He turned the hat toward the display, holding it by the brim with one hand, and gave the top a pronounced thump. A cloud of shimmering dust billowed out, filling the air around the case with silvery smoke. Replacing the hat on his head, he peered into the cloud, brow furrowed.
*Clever. Clever.*
He produced a pair of brass opera glasses from a pocket and polished them on the lining of his cape as he studied the rapidly-settling cloud. After a moment, he strolled toward the gem, swinging his cane idly in one hand, holding the opera glasses in the other. Mid-stride, he swung the glasses to the left quickly, took two steps, ducked six centimetres, and transferred them to his right hand. Two steps later, he arrived in front of the case holding the Platina Selen.
He touched his mask again, and the red lenses vanished. He leaned down and ran a silk-gloved finger along the edge of the case, frowning. He put the opera glasses to his eyes and leaned over the gem, studying it and the case intently.
Satisfied, he returned the glasses to his pocket, then raised his cane and knocked upon the case at each of the front corners and once along the centre of each edge of the front pane. He then twirled his cane and poked the pane sharply just below the centre with the brass-tipped end. It tipped inward, breaking loose from the seams holding it in place, then fell forward. He casually caught it and slid it to the floor.
*That wasn't so hard,* he thought to himself. The Platina Selen was now his for the taking. Still, there could be a final security trap—a silent alarm trigger if the gem was removed, perhaps. He'd seen Raiders of the Lost Ark enough times to know not to be too cocky. He carefully examined the area around the jewel, which lay on a red velvet pillow. He frowned. There was no way to know if there was a tripswitch without moving the pillow, and no way to move the pillow without setting off the tripswitch.
Ah well. The risk was half the fun.
He snatched the priceless gem from its place of honour, took two seconds to admire it in his hand, then stashed it in his jacket.
Now, an exit...
He glanced up and spotted a ceiling grate above the gem case. *That's either deliberate or just really sloppy security,* he mused. It didn't matter either way—it was a way out, and he was taking it. He raised his cane above his head and thumbed a hidden switch near the top. The brass tip of the cane popped open, allowing a long, slender rod to telescope up to the ceiling. Once it connected with the grate, there was a loud click and a forceful tug on the cane—good, the magnetic lock was solid. He triggered the switch again, and the rod retracted, pulling him up to the ceiling.
Now came the tricky part. Holding the cane with one hand, he extended the other, wrist-up, to his left. Precise pressure on a switch inside his glove, and a thin, strong line shot out, a steel anchor on the end sinking into the wall near the ceiling. Carefully, he turned the hand still holding the cane slightly and repeated the process, anchoring himself with a second line.
Now he was free to remove the grate. This took little effort now that he was free to use his more mundane tools; in less than three minutes, he was up in the ventilation ducts again. He quickly found a path to the roof, exiting the museum the same way he entered. Once there, he grinned, feeling the heft of the gem in his jacket pocket. Another successful heist comple—
"Hold it RIGHT THERE, you!"
Shit.
* * * * *
Usagi sat alone on a bench in the park, stuffing onigiri into her mouth.
She'd gone to Mamoru's place, but he wasn't home. She'd called her mother and told her this, and had been instructed to wait for him.
So she'd waited. For about ten minutes. Then she'd gone to the arcade, met up with Naru, and played video games for an hour.
By that point, it was getting late, and she was hungry. She knew, however, that she was not expected back home this evening, and that if she returned, her parents would be upset with her for not being a good bride.
So she sat alone in the park, eating the snacks that her mother had given her. They were, of course, good—almost as good as a warm dinner. And best of all, she didn't end up sharing them with that jerk fiance of hers—though she felt slightly guilty for not thinking to share them with Naru-chan earlier.
Several birds suddenly shot out of a tree, squawking in alarm. Usagi blinked up at them, chewing a mouthful of rice. *What's gotten into them?*
Then she felt a prickle at the base of her neck. Someone was watching her.
"Who—who's there?" she asked, standing up and brushing rice off her hands. "Come on out—I know you're there!"
A large black shape detached itself from the surrounding foliage. Usagi's eyes widened in shock. She had to be dreaming.
It was a panther.
A huge, black, very mean-looking panther, with a nasty scabbed-over cut on its forehead and burning red eyes.
Literally burning—its eyes were crimson flames.
"I've found you at last, Princess Serenity," the panther rumbled in a deep, throaty female voice, fangs glistening.
Usagi screamed.
