Chapter 1-4: Win and Lose
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Friday brings with it air that stinks of oncoming sleet. There's a low overcast, dark and full. The weather forecast says it'll hit tonight. I'm walking across the school's third-floor corridor, looking to have lunch today in the cafeteria. The food is actually quite good here. Casually, for practice more than anything else, I look out over the school.
Office Lady is standing at the gate, staring right up at me.
I grab for my phone, hit the app I use to draw designs for complex casts, then look up. She's gone. Where'd she go? I cover one eye, look for her, expecting her to be gone again, but she's not. She's moving along the perimeter of school grounds, going fast, a bolt of empty cold in the mountain's life.
"Gokigenyou Nozomi-san!"
Manako is right behind me. I didn't even notice her. "Ah, Manako-chan." I turn, try to smile.
"Is there something in your eye?"
"I uh, just have one of my migraines." I try to smile. "Sorry, we said we'd eat lunch together didn't we?"
"It's quite alright." she nods, looking at me in concern. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Should I take you to the nurse's office?" Without a material component, any attack I make on the thing is going to be much less powerful, but I can still probably fry it.
"No. That's okay. I'm sure it'll fade soon." I maintain my smile, maybe it looks better now? Inspiration strikes. "Could you get me some water from the vending machine?"
"Oh, yes." She runs off and I look down at my phone, page through the preloaded designs till I find the one I want, and turn to track the creature, starting to whisper names. I've got it. It's still moving, pacing around the edge of the school.
I launch the spell at it, mana surging between the design on the screen of my phone and the words I'm whispering, reaching out towards it to set it on fire.
The creature blocks the strike as if it's nothing. There's not even an explosion.
It turns and starts to make its way into the school.
"I have your water Nozomi-san." Manako comes back, offering me the bottle. "Uh, are you okay?"
All my usual poise seems to have deserted me. I'm wretched scared. Too scared. I should think up an excuse but all I have is: "Ah. I'm sorry Manako-chan. I-I I got to go!"
I grab the water and run. I need a plan.
There's the abandoned art block on the other side of the campus, almost unused now since the new one opened, and still in the process of being redecorated. I can head in there. Using the water and my emergency kit I should be able to get a better kill spell going, especially if I trick into a fixed position.
I sprint across into the building, then pick an internal room. A quick rune on the wall in water to decoy my presence and I dodge around another corner, drawing up a circle on the wall.
Footsteps outside. I lean against the wall, finger above the activation glyph. Someone is walking down the corridor outside, steps quite. They're almost at the point, almost. Just one more step.
The footfalls stop. "Nisfune-san?" A voice calls.
I blink, put a hand to my eye. The presence outside is not a void, but very much alive. There's something less alive next to it, but again, something fundamentally Of This World.
No sign of the hunter, not anywhere in my radius of vision.
I know who this is.
"Reijou-san." I step out. "And companion." Reijou Yuuko, a seventeen-year-old second year, short-haired, athletic, average height. I've always thought she looks like an otome game protagonist. Next to her is a large black dog, now fading back into the ether as it senses the danger from me is less.
Remember how I said the school was haunted? Well, Reijou is from a long line of exorcists who paid for her to come here to keep the place out of trouble. Exorcists tend to be a lot more into actually containing outbreaks of the supernatural than mages are. We've helped one another a few times in the past, mostly me giving her semi-cryptic hints to cover up the fact that I don't know that much about ghosts.
"Are you alright Nisfune-san? Something came onto campus. When I confronted it, it just turned around and left."
I sometimes wonder exactly what power rests inside Reijou Yuuko's slight frame.
Right now I'm too frazzled to be anything but gracious. I bow. "Thank you Reijou-san. You saved me." The words feel a little bitter. I should be able to save myself.
"What was that?" She asks.
"You know how I once said that you shouldn't get involved with me Reijou-san?" I take a long drink of water, then collapse on one of the old chairs. "Well, that was one of the reasons why."
She frowns at me. "If it threatens the school--"
"I know! I know alright!" I rub my eyes. "I'm dealing with it tonight. If I can't," then it won't be a problem anymore. "If I can't, then I promise I'll tell you everything, and we can deal with it together."
I don't want to bring this sweet girl into my family's grubby legacy. She has her own concerns. She doesn't need mine.
I need to end this tonight.
I know that these things are somehow linked to my life energy, so there's the possibility that they can use that to track me. However, there are metaphysical problems with that. The number one being that I've already thought of that and taken precautions. I can't stop the life drain, but I can bounce the signal around. If it was tracking me through my life, then it would have bounced to one of the offsets and I'd have got the drop on it.
Other than the soul link, there's only a limited number of ways that you can track a specific person in an area the size of Tokyo. Scrying would be detectable. Fate manipulation is one I considered, I'm not actually that good at it but I can pay someone. A check with a specialist tells me, I'm not entangled.
You can't track my phone. Even a military-grade electromagnetic sensor wouldn't be able to do it without detectable scrying. I'd have noticed a follower. So what does that leave?
Actually, something fairly obvious.
It's at high altitude, a long-winged design. One of the older American models.
A drone.
I thought horrors from the outer dark wouldn't use technology, but then I already met some that did. More American equipment, and injected into Tokyo's busy air traffic pattern. This has some implications.
And why am I being stalked when I didn't have an attack? Well now. What else have I been doing lately?
"I'm an idiot," I mutter myself. Manako gives me a look from beside me in class, concerned. I smile at her, trying to tell her that it'll all be okay, and finally feeling like it will be. Now all I have to do is come up with a plan.
There's snow falling when I depart home, sneaking out a side door. My car left earlier, and Office Lady appeared in proximity. I'm still not sure how it's moving but it's definitely not near me. I was pretty certain they were tracking the car, because it would be a nightmare to track a single pedestrian in Tokyo from a high altitude drone.
Of course, my house has multiple ways that you can move out, covered against the most common detection methods like thermals. I get out onto the street and merge with the flow of civilian traffic. I'll get the subway across town, and play some poker. Office Lady can chase her own tail for a while. She'll be able to track me down eventually I'm sure, but I have time.
Kanezawa Palace is in Roppongi, a rich area of nightclubs and upmarket houses where foreigners tend to hang out. It's at the edge of it, built into an old nightclub which was abandoned after its previous owner went down for two life sentences for drug trafficking.
I don't take any chances on approach, eye-covered scan, check for any voids. Nothing. Good. The building is about what you'd expect from an old nightclub, a grand but dilapidated place, with peeling finery dating back to the middle of the nineties. A time capsule.
There are two men lounging on the door, who pay attention as I approach, as well they should. My outfit is devastatingly monochrome and expensive, which I hope will distract from the really vital element of it, which is the white silk gloves. I picked a pair that basically vanish into my skin and hope they won't notice. The jacket has an inserted layer of anti-stab material, and some kevlar, some magic enough to stop the kind of bullets I'm likely to encounter here. I have a handbag, Italian and red, and a briefcase, that's where the money is and where I want them to look.
I can't say that they're well dressed. Both are trying to look like they might actually work here, in cheap blue suits and colourful host shirts, but neither of them can pull it off. They look like a pair of schoolboys who've just rolled down a hill. Hoodies and jeans would have fit them better.
"Yo Ojou-chan." One grins, no, it's really more of a leer. "You looking for a good night?"
I'm pretty sure if I don't go willingly they're going to grab me old school and hold me hostage in there. "Maybe I am. I hear you've got a poker game here with some interesting stakes?"
"Ah." Both nod to one another, any concerns they had about why someone dressed as expensively as I am would be in a place like this. "You have a stake?"
I hold up the briefcase on my hands and flip it open, showing the money inside. This is going to be the tricky part. It's possible they're going to just grab for the bag, and then try to do something to me. If so, well, I have a contingency. It's just a lot neater if they let me in.
I relax a little when the left one speaks "Lemme call the boss." He runs a hand over his chin. "He'll get you settled right in."
His friend titters. I don't have to wait long for a tall, older guy, kind of heavy and muscular. He's doing better than his doormen, wearing a jacket without a shirt, and a big knife stuck in a sheath on his hip. We go through another round of "Ojou-chans" and him eye-fucking me before he leads me out of the cold and towards the back room.
The outer area of the club is set up with a bunch of different, mostly fairly low stakes betting tables, with a group of mostly low-stakes party-goers wandering around. The decoration is about what you'd expect from a semi-abandoned club, a lot of fresh paint trying to cover up decay, though as I noticed from some of my recon, they sure do have a lot of pot plants. Staff seem to be dealers and a few women in bunny girl outfits, none of whom look more than surface-level happy to be here, wander around with drinks, and I'm pretty sure helping the house cheat. There's also gangers, mostly at the bar, some in suits, most in hoodies and jeans, having a good time. Some are gambling, but only some. They mostly seem like security.
The boss leads me into the back, making a show of instructing a man to bring me chips on the way. It's not quite a room, not quite not, The door is a curtainless arch, and at the right angle I'll have a good view over the whole club. There's a green felt card table and a circle of men around it. I'm the youngest and the only woman. A bunny girl waits to one side with a tray of drinks. I make a mental note of her position. Not going to let her get behind me.
The prizes stand at one end, mystic objects stand like prizes at a fair, or a legal casino, each with an amount of chips you need to win it in front. There is a book with gold leaf pages, a broken knife, a carved clay statue, a jade bowl, and there at one end, the mystic glass. Going cheap.
Of course, given who these guys are, and the way they're looking at me then I'm pretty sure they're not going to let me go that easily.
Still, for now, it's just time to play poker.
There are four other guys playing tonight: A big, scar-faced yakuza with a caterpillar mustache and tattoos peeking out of an open shirt. A thin, dangerous-looking bald man wearing leather driving gloves and a sharp suit. An empty-eyed businessman, grey at the temples who is giving me a look just as predatory as any of the gang, and a white-haired guy in an actually not bad looking white suit who is looking increasingly uncomfortable with the company he's keeping.
Now to see how the poker club stacks up against these guys.
It turns out, not so badly. I win more than I lose, though I'm not as good as the bald guy who strikes me as maybe a professional player. If I was planning to actually win the game, this would be a problem.
We're five hands in, just about to deal when the gang leader comes back in. "Well now." He grins, and I get a sinking feeling that it's going to be something nasty. "It seems that we've got a special prize today. Just found, snooping around outside." He's looking at me, smirking, and the sinking feeling grows.
Two of his men pull a girl in. They have a bag over her head but I know who it is before they pull it away. Manako looks different outside school uniform, her hair tousled up, glasses askew from the bag. They have her arms locked up behind her, and she looks terrified. "Nozomi!" She blurts. "I'm sorry! I followed you! I shouldn't--"
She breaks off as the leader puts a boxcutter to her throat. "Easy there honey." He smiles. "If your friend can really play, you're in no danger." He looks up at me, eager. "If she can't, well I'm sure she can be a prize too."
The white-haired man glares. "So, that's the kind of place this is is it?"
"Yeah. That's right." The gang leader stares him down for a long moment. The Yakuza and the bald guy look mostly unbothered, the businessman is perking up. Creep. I make a decision about him. "Well, play on then."
One of his toughs comes and stands behind my chair, hands on the back. Another is holding Manako. She's not crying as much as I expected, her eyes are almost eager. I take a deep breath, wait for my cards.
"Hey bitch! You can't just walk in here."
Here we go.
The two men at the door are facing a disheveled figure just stepped in out of the rain. She's old and greying at the temples, dressed for work. Shoes still on the wrong feet. The two gangers step forward, menacingly, but she ignores them, looking at me. I look back. As I watch, one of the gangers grabs her by the shoulder, then screams as she unfolds.
Human guise falls away as the hunter elongates. It's pyramidal, centauriod, four legs on the bottom, two sets of four arms, one on each side. On the two, a three-cornered head with a lamprey mouth. Pure white, the same white as the worm things in the mouth of the man I killed.
It lifts the ganger who grabbed it up in one had and pulls him in two with a quick gesture. People start to scream running for the exits. The other players are on their feet, shouting.
"Fucking monster." The other man on the door shouts. "Fucking monster!"
The leader pulls his knife and points it at the horror. "This is our club!" He shouts. "Our! Fucking! Club!"
His men cheer, snarling like wolves. I see them breath in and clench up, igniting their powers. They pull weapons and charge the thing on mass. The guy behind me hasn't moved but he's looking. I pull the wire coil I have in my pocket out and slap it against him.
He feels it in time to wonder before I juice him with it and his implants go completely haywire. He drops, going into spasm. The other one comes at me around the table, but he's in the magnet's range and his motions become an uncoordinated stumble that end in a kick to the head.
"Don't fucking move!" the one in front of Manako grabs for a knife. "Don't move or I'll--"
I spit a word that yanks him away from her, then slams him into the wall. "Manako! Grab the magnifying glass!" I point at the cipher key. "We need too--"
The businessman grabs me from behind, bearing me over. "Leaving so soon?" He giggles. "Leaving so soon? Leaving so soon?"
White worms coil out of his throat.
I don't want to open my mouth and have one invade my throat so I shove a hand up into him and splay my fingers just so. The blast knocks him flying across the room and I speak a word of fire. He burbles, rises, more armoured than the previous one, then the white-haired man knocks him down with a chair. He twitches a few times then starts to burn in earnest.
Male formal fashion is actually so bad that even these things can get the hang of it.
At the door, the gang are coming at the thing in a rushing mob, moving too fast and smooth for humans, blades of darkness outlining their hands. It meets them with alien grace, limbs extending to grab and strip, space bending as it gyrates, superpositional, tearing through men one after another, even as they hack and beat at it, opening up great wounds.
The pro and the Yakuza look at one another, rising too, looking between me and the screaming carnage at the door. "I only want this." I indicate the cipher key in Manako's hand. "Take whatever you came here for if it's anything else."
Both men look at one another, then one grabs the bowl, the other the knife. They run for the fire exit. The bunny girl has already gone through it and out. Manako, showing a surprising amount of initiative, grabs the book and the statue.
The old guy is waiting at the exit, holding it open for us. "This part of a plan of yours young lady?" He asks, a little disapproving as we run for it.
"Apart from my friend getting held at knifepoint." I look down the alley. Rain and snow is pouring down now, and there's a distant rumble of thunder. "My car is down the alley. Go to it and get in."
"No way!" Manako grabs onto me. "If you're staying, I'm staying with you!"
"That's not--" I don't have time to remonstrate with her as the gang leader stumbles out of the fire door. He's missing an arm, blood drenching his suit.
"You bitch," he slurs, "you did--"
The hunter steps out behind him and twists his head off. Manako cries, and clings onto me tighter. It's beaten up, covered in cuts and dripping white fluid, but it still advances, claws up.
I take a deep breath, tasting the rain beating down on me.
At some point, you reach the end of indirect means, of pawns. You reach the point where you have to fight.
I've fought Hunters before, killed then in traps or with ritual magic, blasted them away from a distance.
I've never fought one this strong before and never hand to hand.
I've picked fights all over Tokyo, from dojos to streets, against karate masters and yakuza, MMA professionals and delinquents. I've faced mystic martial artists, spirits and undead.
My hands are shaking.
I clench them and take a deep breath.
Gently, I detach Manako from me and take a step forward. Quiet words begin to draw geomantic power up from the ground around me, pouring into the crystalline circuits fitted into my jacket, tattooed invisibly into my skin. Silver in my clothes, black against my pale skin. I whisper words of power, fixing the alley into a bounded field, preventing it from fully phasing. Holding it to a single position.
The Hunter stops, its wounds dripping, sleet sluicing the white blood down its flanks. It watches me, yellow eyes gleaming. Its arms are triple jointed, the clawed hands clenching and unclenching.
It moves so gracefully, this many place thing, shifting back and forth like a snake. It's movements are so languid, so unconcerned. And then it rushes, coming so fast that it leaves raindrop streaks in its wake.
I dodge back, then aside, desperately shaping a spell out of my movement, holding it into only a single position. Clawed hands flicker in and I dodge and block in frantic haste. It's impossibly fast, fast enough I can't get even a single strike off, just block, dodge, and give ground. The alley moves under me in a blur, and I'm gut scared I'll trip on something.
Manako and the old man giving more behind me, crying out. They know I'm losing. I'm scared, really scared, and embarrassed too. This was my chance to show Manako how cool I really am and I'm messing it up, losing to this monster. After everything I pulled to get it to this point, I still can't beat it. Even after I beat its main weapon, its superposition, I can't--
A claw finds a gap in my guard and slashes me open. The blow cuts through the stab liner and sends me flying, cut to the skin. I hit the alley wall, bounce off and turn it into a roll and kick out, coming back to my feet just as it arrives, to block and roll through another wave of strikes. The side of the alley looms up behind me, claws tearing up stone chips as I dodge to the side, and then I'm out of options. I touch my medallion and teleport, reappearing in a slide that at least gives me distance.
The creature doesn't pursue, it stands there, watching me. I pull myself upright, feel it tug at a wound I didn't know I had. Blood drips down my side.
It looks at me, head on one side, mouth working. It seems almost disappointed, Or maybe that's just me. I'm disappointed with myself.
I pull fire out of the air, hurl it in front of a word of power. The creature's parry cuts the spell away. I dodge back again, throw more fire, then a trash can. It flicks each strike away, walking up my attacks like a man straining against a fire hose.
My muscles are burning hot and I'm taking in air in great lungfuls. The cut in my side is starting to sting badly, a hot needle even through the layers of my system's geomantic reinforcement.
This isn't working.
I've made the most elementary of mistakes. I got into a fight without a plan on how to win. I sort of thought I might dodge around it, pick at its defences, wear it down, but it's too quick, too tough.
Well then.
I can't defend and attack. I can't win if I don't attack.
I kick a second garbage can at it, and then use the time it buys me to get into my pocket and pull the inhaler. Two puffs. The drug burns through me. The creature comes in, too casual, underestimating me. I teleport into it. It's eyes widen but I'm in close, punching a fist through its guard and slamming it into one of the wounds on its side. It screams loudly and lashes at me, but I ride the blow, not backing off, taking one strike after another to land hit after hit in return. I hammer the wound in its side with kicks and punches, then shape my fingers into a rune and slap it down into the creature's blood. There's a moment's delay and then its side detonates.
It reels back a pace, but I don't give it room, just step in and ram a knee up into an armless section of its stomach. It makes a horrible buzzing noise, then slashes across my forehead, glancing me as I lean back, blood getting into my eye but not enough to stop me crushing its face.
It clutches its mouth, stumbles back a step, then collapses to its knees.
My outfit is extremely colourful now, unfortunately, that red is mostly my own blood.
The rain stings at the cut in my forehead.
The hunter shakes itself, pushing up on its lower arms.
If I don't bring this to a conclusion into the next thirty seconds I'm going to pass out.
It gets up and charges at me, roaring and I go to meet it, jumping up in a long spin kick aimed straight at its yellow eye. I put everything I've still got into the kick, mystical and physical, for a moment linking directly to the local geomancy, cutting the limiters off my tattoos.
Claws slash at me, and I feel them burn along my stomach. The landing is bad and I half roll out, coming back to my knees, guard up.
The Hunter sways, then collapses, its decapitated neck spraying purple fluid.
For a moment I stay upright, swaying, and it comes to me how good that felt. How wonderful it was to test my limits against something so strong and come out the victor. Then I fall sideways.
"Nozomi!" Manako rushes forward, jumping over the fallen creature to grab me. She pushes down on my stomach wound, applying pressure. "Nozomi! Stay with me!"
"I'm not going anywhere." I whisper, there's blood in my mouth but I'm pretty sure it's from my forehead. "Not without you." The world swims in and out. "E-except a doctor maybe."
She laughs, sort of crying. "You dumbass! Stop trying to be cool."
"Card, in my wallet-- has the address." I blink. "I-Injector in my pocket. The blue one. Jab me with it and press the button."
My vision swims. The old man is looking down at us. "I'll get my car." He says. Manako searches and comes out with the injector. I feel the cold sting of it against my neck and the growing pain eases away.
I lapse, I think, into something like unconsciousness.
I come back to myself to find Manako leaning over me. I'm on a bed surrounded by a variety of medical devices, a semi-familiar white ceiling above me. Several monitoring systems beep out my status.
Manako looks very frazzled. There's blood on her, dried, and presumably mine. "Looks like I didn't make it." I mutter. "There's an angel here."
Manako does a double-take then hugs me. "That's not funny!" She mutters into my shoulder.
Alice steps up and looks over me. "Glad to see you're feeling better." She's eating a lollipop, one of her tells for stress. "You gave us quite a scare there."
"Sorry." I lean back, look over at Manako, who's blushing and kind of wish I hadn't thrown out a lame line like that on waking. "No pain, is that good?"
"Probably." She looks at me. "Lift your legs." I do. "Good, looks like you don't have any nerve damage. I thought I was going to have to shove you in the tank."
"My clothes were totaled?" I'm in a paper surgical gown.
"I had to cut them off you." She looks at the other two, and whispers. "You know they're civilians right?"
"If they were before," I lean back, "they sure as hell aren't now."
"Alright, but be careful."
I look down at my body, which is covered in fading lines of cuts where her magic wielded my wounds together. "Yeah, I'll do that."
I get out of there in about twenty minutes, exchange cards with the old guy, who turns out to be a collector of esoterica, and then head off with Manako.
"So, you're some kind of secret Esper?" She asks.
"I'm a witch." I smile a bit. "I live in the hidden world. It's a dangerous place, as you found. I'm sorry that I--"
"No." Manako's hand stepped back but now she grips my arm tightly. "No. Don't say that you're sorry you got me into it. I got myself into it, and I wanted to. I wanted to see the real you, and now I see her I want to see more of her world."
I consider for a moment, should I do this? Can I? Shouldn't I heroically refuse as I always have and just not get close?
No. I'll be honest with myself. "It'll mean a lot of danger, and a lot of hard work."
"I'm ready for that."
"Alright." I take a deep breath, surprised that nothing hurts. "Alright, then let me take you home. I'll tell you everything."
Office Lady is standing at the gate, staring right up at me.
I grab for my phone, hit the app I use to draw designs for complex casts, then look up. She's gone. Where'd she go? I cover one eye, look for her, expecting her to be gone again, but she's not. She's moving along the perimeter of school grounds, going fast, a bolt of empty cold in the mountain's life.
"Gokigenyou Nozomi-san!"
Manako is right behind me. I didn't even notice her. "Ah, Manako-chan." I turn, try to smile.
"Is there something in your eye?"
"I uh, just have one of my migraines." I try to smile. "Sorry, we said we'd eat lunch together didn't we?"
"It's quite alright." she nods, looking at me in concern. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Should I take you to the nurse's office?" Without a material component, any attack I make on the thing is going to be much less powerful, but I can still probably fry it.
"No. That's okay. I'm sure it'll fade soon." I maintain my smile, maybe it looks better now? Inspiration strikes. "Could you get me some water from the vending machine?"
"Oh, yes." She runs off and I look down at my phone, page through the preloaded designs till I find the one I want, and turn to track the creature, starting to whisper names. I've got it. It's still moving, pacing around the edge of the school.
I launch the spell at it, mana surging between the design on the screen of my phone and the words I'm whispering, reaching out towards it to set it on fire.
The creature blocks the strike as if it's nothing. There's not even an explosion.
It turns and starts to make its way into the school.
"I have your water Nozomi-san." Manako comes back, offering me the bottle. "Uh, are you okay?"
All my usual poise seems to have deserted me. I'm wretched scared. Too scared. I should think up an excuse but all I have is: "Ah. I'm sorry Manako-chan. I-I I got to go!"
I grab the water and run. I need a plan.
There's the abandoned art block on the other side of the campus, almost unused now since the new one opened, and still in the process of being redecorated. I can head in there. Using the water and my emergency kit I should be able to get a better kill spell going, especially if I trick into a fixed position.
I sprint across into the building, then pick an internal room. A quick rune on the wall in water to decoy my presence and I dodge around another corner, drawing up a circle on the wall.
Footsteps outside. I lean against the wall, finger above the activation glyph. Someone is walking down the corridor outside, steps quite. They're almost at the point, almost. Just one more step.
The footfalls stop. "Nisfune-san?" A voice calls.
I blink, put a hand to my eye. The presence outside is not a void, but very much alive. There's something less alive next to it, but again, something fundamentally Of This World.
No sign of the hunter, not anywhere in my radius of vision.
I know who this is.
"Reijou-san." I step out. "And companion." Reijou Yuuko, a seventeen-year-old second year, short-haired, athletic, average height. I've always thought she looks like an otome game protagonist. Next to her is a large black dog, now fading back into the ether as it senses the danger from me is less.
Remember how I said the school was haunted? Well, Reijou is from a long line of exorcists who paid for her to come here to keep the place out of trouble. Exorcists tend to be a lot more into actually containing outbreaks of the supernatural than mages are. We've helped one another a few times in the past, mostly me giving her semi-cryptic hints to cover up the fact that I don't know that much about ghosts.
"Are you alright Nisfune-san? Something came onto campus. When I confronted it, it just turned around and left."
I sometimes wonder exactly what power rests inside Reijou Yuuko's slight frame.
Right now I'm too frazzled to be anything but gracious. I bow. "Thank you Reijou-san. You saved me." The words feel a little bitter. I should be able to save myself.
"What was that?" She asks.
"You know how I once said that you shouldn't get involved with me Reijou-san?" I take a long drink of water, then collapse on one of the old chairs. "Well, that was one of the reasons why."
She frowns at me. "If it threatens the school--"
"I know! I know alright!" I rub my eyes. "I'm dealing with it tonight. If I can't," then it won't be a problem anymore. "If I can't, then I promise I'll tell you everything, and we can deal with it together."
I don't want to bring this sweet girl into my family's grubby legacy. She has her own concerns. She doesn't need mine.
I need to end this tonight.
*****
The first rule of the magical world: things do not just happen. Sinister horror monsters still have to find you like everyone else.
I know that these things are somehow linked to my life energy, so there's the possibility that they can use that to track me. However, there are metaphysical problems with that. The number one being that I've already thought of that and taken precautions. I can't stop the life drain, but I can bounce the signal around. If it was tracking me through my life, then it would have bounced to one of the offsets and I'd have got the drop on it.
Other than the soul link, there's only a limited number of ways that you can track a specific person in an area the size of Tokyo. Scrying would be detectable. Fate manipulation is one I considered, I'm not actually that good at it but I can pay someone. A check with a specialist tells me, I'm not entangled.
You can't track my phone. Even a military-grade electromagnetic sensor wouldn't be able to do it without detectable scrying. I'd have noticed a follower. So what does that leave?
Actually, something fairly obvious.
It's at high altitude, a long-winged design. One of the older American models.
A drone.
I thought horrors from the outer dark wouldn't use technology, but then I already met some that did. More American equipment, and injected into Tokyo's busy air traffic pattern. This has some implications.
And why am I being stalked when I didn't have an attack? Well now. What else have I been doing lately?
"I'm an idiot," I mutter myself. Manako gives me a look from beside me in class, concerned. I smile at her, trying to tell her that it'll all be okay, and finally feeling like it will be. Now all I have to do is come up with a plan.
*****
There's snow falling when I depart home, sneaking out a side door. My car left earlier, and Office Lady appeared in proximity. I'm still not sure how it's moving but it's definitely not near me. I was pretty certain they were tracking the car, because it would be a nightmare to track a single pedestrian in Tokyo from a high altitude drone.
Of course, my house has multiple ways that you can move out, covered against the most common detection methods like thermals. I get out onto the street and merge with the flow of civilian traffic. I'll get the subway across town, and play some poker. Office Lady can chase her own tail for a while. She'll be able to track me down eventually I'm sure, but I have time.
Kanezawa Palace is in Roppongi, a rich area of nightclubs and upmarket houses where foreigners tend to hang out. It's at the edge of it, built into an old nightclub which was abandoned after its previous owner went down for two life sentences for drug trafficking.
I don't take any chances on approach, eye-covered scan, check for any voids. Nothing. Good. The building is about what you'd expect from an old nightclub, a grand but dilapidated place, with peeling finery dating back to the middle of the nineties. A time capsule.
There are two men lounging on the door, who pay attention as I approach, as well they should. My outfit is devastatingly monochrome and expensive, which I hope will distract from the really vital element of it, which is the white silk gloves. I picked a pair that basically vanish into my skin and hope they won't notice. The jacket has an inserted layer of anti-stab material, and some kevlar, some magic enough to stop the kind of bullets I'm likely to encounter here. I have a handbag, Italian and red, and a briefcase, that's where the money is and where I want them to look.
I can't say that they're well dressed. Both are trying to look like they might actually work here, in cheap blue suits and colourful host shirts, but neither of them can pull it off. They look like a pair of schoolboys who've just rolled down a hill. Hoodies and jeans would have fit them better.
"Yo Ojou-chan." One grins, no, it's really more of a leer. "You looking for a good night?"
I'm pretty sure if I don't go willingly they're going to grab me old school and hold me hostage in there. "Maybe I am. I hear you've got a poker game here with some interesting stakes?"
"Ah." Both nod to one another, any concerns they had about why someone dressed as expensively as I am would be in a place like this. "You have a stake?"
I hold up the briefcase on my hands and flip it open, showing the money inside. This is going to be the tricky part. It's possible they're going to just grab for the bag, and then try to do something to me. If so, well, I have a contingency. It's just a lot neater if they let me in.
I relax a little when the left one speaks "Lemme call the boss." He runs a hand over his chin. "He'll get you settled right in."
His friend titters. I don't have to wait long for a tall, older guy, kind of heavy and muscular. He's doing better than his doormen, wearing a jacket without a shirt, and a big knife stuck in a sheath on his hip. We go through another round of "Ojou-chans" and him eye-fucking me before he leads me out of the cold and towards the back room.
The outer area of the club is set up with a bunch of different, mostly fairly low stakes betting tables, with a group of mostly low-stakes party-goers wandering around. The decoration is about what you'd expect from a semi-abandoned club, a lot of fresh paint trying to cover up decay, though as I noticed from some of my recon, they sure do have a lot of pot plants. Staff seem to be dealers and a few women in bunny girl outfits, none of whom look more than surface-level happy to be here, wander around with drinks, and I'm pretty sure helping the house cheat. There's also gangers, mostly at the bar, some in suits, most in hoodies and jeans, having a good time. Some are gambling, but only some. They mostly seem like security.
The boss leads me into the back, making a show of instructing a man to bring me chips on the way. It's not quite a room, not quite not, The door is a curtainless arch, and at the right angle I'll have a good view over the whole club. There's a green felt card table and a circle of men around it. I'm the youngest and the only woman. A bunny girl waits to one side with a tray of drinks. I make a mental note of her position. Not going to let her get behind me.
The prizes stand at one end, mystic objects stand like prizes at a fair, or a legal casino, each with an amount of chips you need to win it in front. There is a book with gold leaf pages, a broken knife, a carved clay statue, a jade bowl, and there at one end, the mystic glass. Going cheap.
Of course, given who these guys are, and the way they're looking at me then I'm pretty sure they're not going to let me go that easily.
Still, for now, it's just time to play poker.
There are four other guys playing tonight: A big, scar-faced yakuza with a caterpillar mustache and tattoos peeking out of an open shirt. A thin, dangerous-looking bald man wearing leather driving gloves and a sharp suit. An empty-eyed businessman, grey at the temples who is giving me a look just as predatory as any of the gang, and a white-haired guy in an actually not bad looking white suit who is looking increasingly uncomfortable with the company he's keeping.
Now to see how the poker club stacks up against these guys.
It turns out, not so badly. I win more than I lose, though I'm not as good as the bald guy who strikes me as maybe a professional player. If I was planning to actually win the game, this would be a problem.
We're five hands in, just about to deal when the gang leader comes back in. "Well now." He grins, and I get a sinking feeling that it's going to be something nasty. "It seems that we've got a special prize today. Just found, snooping around outside." He's looking at me, smirking, and the sinking feeling grows.
Two of his men pull a girl in. They have a bag over her head but I know who it is before they pull it away. Manako looks different outside school uniform, her hair tousled up, glasses askew from the bag. They have her arms locked up behind her, and she looks terrified. "Nozomi!" She blurts. "I'm sorry! I followed you! I shouldn't--"
She breaks off as the leader puts a boxcutter to her throat. "Easy there honey." He smiles. "If your friend can really play, you're in no danger." He looks up at me, eager. "If she can't, well I'm sure she can be a prize too."
The white-haired man glares. "So, that's the kind of place this is is it?"
"Yeah. That's right." The gang leader stares him down for a long moment. The Yakuza and the bald guy look mostly unbothered, the businessman is perking up. Creep. I make a decision about him. "Well, play on then."
One of his toughs comes and stands behind my chair, hands on the back. Another is holding Manako. She's not crying as much as I expected, her eyes are almost eager. I take a deep breath, wait for my cards.
"Hey bitch! You can't just walk in here."
Here we go.
The two men at the door are facing a disheveled figure just stepped in out of the rain. She's old and greying at the temples, dressed for work. Shoes still on the wrong feet. The two gangers step forward, menacingly, but she ignores them, looking at me. I look back. As I watch, one of the gangers grabs her by the shoulder, then screams as she unfolds.
Human guise falls away as the hunter elongates. It's pyramidal, centauriod, four legs on the bottom, two sets of four arms, one on each side. On the two, a three-cornered head with a lamprey mouth. Pure white, the same white as the worm things in the mouth of the man I killed.
It lifts the ganger who grabbed it up in one had and pulls him in two with a quick gesture. People start to scream running for the exits. The other players are on their feet, shouting.
"Fucking monster." The other man on the door shouts. "Fucking monster!"
The leader pulls his knife and points it at the horror. "This is our club!" He shouts. "Our! Fucking! Club!"
His men cheer, snarling like wolves. I see them breath in and clench up, igniting their powers. They pull weapons and charge the thing on mass. The guy behind me hasn't moved but he's looking. I pull the wire coil I have in my pocket out and slap it against him.
He feels it in time to wonder before I juice him with it and his implants go completely haywire. He drops, going into spasm. The other one comes at me around the table, but he's in the magnet's range and his motions become an uncoordinated stumble that end in a kick to the head.
"Don't fucking move!" the one in front of Manako grabs for a knife. "Don't move or I'll--"
I spit a word that yanks him away from her, then slams him into the wall. "Manako! Grab the magnifying glass!" I point at the cipher key. "We need too--"
The businessman grabs me from behind, bearing me over. "Leaving so soon?" He giggles. "Leaving so soon? Leaving so soon?"
White worms coil out of his throat.
I don't want to open my mouth and have one invade my throat so I shove a hand up into him and splay my fingers just so. The blast knocks him flying across the room and I speak a word of fire. He burbles, rises, more armoured than the previous one, then the white-haired man knocks him down with a chair. He twitches a few times then starts to burn in earnest.
Male formal fashion is actually so bad that even these things can get the hang of it.
At the door, the gang are coming at the thing in a rushing mob, moving too fast and smooth for humans, blades of darkness outlining their hands. It meets them with alien grace, limbs extending to grab and strip, space bending as it gyrates, superpositional, tearing through men one after another, even as they hack and beat at it, opening up great wounds.
The pro and the Yakuza look at one another, rising too, looking between me and the screaming carnage at the door. "I only want this." I indicate the cipher key in Manako's hand. "Take whatever you came here for if it's anything else."
Both men look at one another, then one grabs the bowl, the other the knife. They run for the fire exit. The bunny girl has already gone through it and out. Manako, showing a surprising amount of initiative, grabs the book and the statue.
The old guy is waiting at the exit, holding it open for us. "This part of a plan of yours young lady?" He asks, a little disapproving as we run for it.
"Apart from my friend getting held at knifepoint." I look down the alley. Rain and snow is pouring down now, and there's a distant rumble of thunder. "My car is down the alley. Go to it and get in."
"No way!" Manako grabs onto me. "If you're staying, I'm staying with you!"
"That's not--" I don't have time to remonstrate with her as the gang leader stumbles out of the fire door. He's missing an arm, blood drenching his suit.
"You bitch," he slurs, "you did--"
The hunter steps out behind him and twists his head off. Manako cries, and clings onto me tighter. It's beaten up, covered in cuts and dripping white fluid, but it still advances, claws up.
I take a deep breath, tasting the rain beating down on me.
At some point, you reach the end of indirect means, of pawns. You reach the point where you have to fight.
I've fought Hunters before, killed then in traps or with ritual magic, blasted them away from a distance.
I've never fought one this strong before and never hand to hand.
I've picked fights all over Tokyo, from dojos to streets, against karate masters and yakuza, MMA professionals and delinquents. I've faced mystic martial artists, spirits and undead.
My hands are shaking.
I clench them and take a deep breath.
Gently, I detach Manako from me and take a step forward. Quiet words begin to draw geomantic power up from the ground around me, pouring into the crystalline circuits fitted into my jacket, tattooed invisibly into my skin. Silver in my clothes, black against my pale skin. I whisper words of power, fixing the alley into a bounded field, preventing it from fully phasing. Holding it to a single position.
The Hunter stops, its wounds dripping, sleet sluicing the white blood down its flanks. It watches me, yellow eyes gleaming. Its arms are triple jointed, the clawed hands clenching and unclenching.
It moves so gracefully, this many place thing, shifting back and forth like a snake. It's movements are so languid, so unconcerned. And then it rushes, coming so fast that it leaves raindrop streaks in its wake.
I dodge back, then aside, desperately shaping a spell out of my movement, holding it into only a single position. Clawed hands flicker in and I dodge and block in frantic haste. It's impossibly fast, fast enough I can't get even a single strike off, just block, dodge, and give ground. The alley moves under me in a blur, and I'm gut scared I'll trip on something.
Manako and the old man giving more behind me, crying out. They know I'm losing. I'm scared, really scared, and embarrassed too. This was my chance to show Manako how cool I really am and I'm messing it up, losing to this monster. After everything I pulled to get it to this point, I still can't beat it. Even after I beat its main weapon, its superposition, I can't--
A claw finds a gap in my guard and slashes me open. The blow cuts through the stab liner and sends me flying, cut to the skin. I hit the alley wall, bounce off and turn it into a roll and kick out, coming back to my feet just as it arrives, to block and roll through another wave of strikes. The side of the alley looms up behind me, claws tearing up stone chips as I dodge to the side, and then I'm out of options. I touch my medallion and teleport, reappearing in a slide that at least gives me distance.
The creature doesn't pursue, it stands there, watching me. I pull myself upright, feel it tug at a wound I didn't know I had. Blood drips down my side.
It looks at me, head on one side, mouth working. It seems almost disappointed, Or maybe that's just me. I'm disappointed with myself.
I pull fire out of the air, hurl it in front of a word of power. The creature's parry cuts the spell away. I dodge back again, throw more fire, then a trash can. It flicks each strike away, walking up my attacks like a man straining against a fire hose.
My muscles are burning hot and I'm taking in air in great lungfuls. The cut in my side is starting to sting badly, a hot needle even through the layers of my system's geomantic reinforcement.
This isn't working.
I've made the most elementary of mistakes. I got into a fight without a plan on how to win. I sort of thought I might dodge around it, pick at its defences, wear it down, but it's too quick, too tough.
Well then.
I can't defend and attack. I can't win if I don't attack.
I kick a second garbage can at it, and then use the time it buys me to get into my pocket and pull the inhaler. Two puffs. The drug burns through me. The creature comes in, too casual, underestimating me. I teleport into it. It's eyes widen but I'm in close, punching a fist through its guard and slamming it into one of the wounds on its side. It screams loudly and lashes at me, but I ride the blow, not backing off, taking one strike after another to land hit after hit in return. I hammer the wound in its side with kicks and punches, then shape my fingers into a rune and slap it down into the creature's blood. There's a moment's delay and then its side detonates.
It reels back a pace, but I don't give it room, just step in and ram a knee up into an armless section of its stomach. It makes a horrible buzzing noise, then slashes across my forehead, glancing me as I lean back, blood getting into my eye but not enough to stop me crushing its face.
It clutches its mouth, stumbles back a step, then collapses to its knees.
My outfit is extremely colourful now, unfortunately, that red is mostly my own blood.
The rain stings at the cut in my forehead.
The hunter shakes itself, pushing up on its lower arms.
If I don't bring this to a conclusion into the next thirty seconds I'm going to pass out.
It gets up and charges at me, roaring and I go to meet it, jumping up in a long spin kick aimed straight at its yellow eye. I put everything I've still got into the kick, mystical and physical, for a moment linking directly to the local geomancy, cutting the limiters off my tattoos.
Claws slash at me, and I feel them burn along my stomach. The landing is bad and I half roll out, coming back to my knees, guard up.
The Hunter sways, then collapses, its decapitated neck spraying purple fluid.
For a moment I stay upright, swaying, and it comes to me how good that felt. How wonderful it was to test my limits against something so strong and come out the victor. Then I fall sideways.
"Nozomi!" Manako rushes forward, jumping over the fallen creature to grab me. She pushes down on my stomach wound, applying pressure. "Nozomi! Stay with me!"
"I'm not going anywhere." I whisper, there's blood in my mouth but I'm pretty sure it's from my forehead. "Not without you." The world swims in and out. "E-except a doctor maybe."
She laughs, sort of crying. "You dumbass! Stop trying to be cool."
"Card, in my wallet-- has the address." I blink. "I-Injector in my pocket. The blue one. Jab me with it and press the button."
My vision swims. The old man is looking down at us. "I'll get my car." He says. Manako searches and comes out with the injector. I feel the cold sting of it against my neck and the growing pain eases away.
I lapse, I think, into something like unconsciousness.
*****
I come back to myself to find Manako leaning over me. I'm on a bed surrounded by a variety of medical devices, a semi-familiar white ceiling above me. Several monitoring systems beep out my status.
Manako looks very frazzled. There's blood on her, dried, and presumably mine. "Looks like I didn't make it." I mutter. "There's an angel here."
Manako does a double-take then hugs me. "That's not funny!" She mutters into my shoulder.
Alice steps up and looks over me. "Glad to see you're feeling better." She's eating a lollipop, one of her tells for stress. "You gave us quite a scare there."
"Sorry." I lean back, look over at Manako, who's blushing and kind of wish I hadn't thrown out a lame line like that on waking. "No pain, is that good?"
"Probably." She looks at me. "Lift your legs." I do. "Good, looks like you don't have any nerve damage. I thought I was going to have to shove you in the tank."
"My clothes were totaled?" I'm in a paper surgical gown.
"I had to cut them off you." She looks at the other two, and whispers. "You know they're civilians right?"
"If they were before," I lean back, "they sure as hell aren't now."
"Alright, but be careful."
I look down at my body, which is covered in fading lines of cuts where her magic wielded my wounds together. "Yeah, I'll do that."
I get out of there in about twenty minutes, exchange cards with the old guy, who turns out to be a collector of esoterica, and then head off with Manako.
"So, you're some kind of secret Esper?" She asks.
"I'm a witch." I smile a bit. "I live in the hidden world. It's a dangerous place, as you found. I'm sorry that I--"
"No." Manako's hand stepped back but now she grips my arm tightly. "No. Don't say that you're sorry you got me into it. I got myself into it, and I wanted to. I wanted to see the real you, and now I see her I want to see more of her world."
I consider for a moment, should I do this? Can I? Shouldn't I heroically refuse as I always have and just not get close?
No. I'll be honest with myself. "It'll mean a lot of danger, and a lot of hard work."
"I'm ready for that."
"Alright." I take a deep breath, surprised that nothing hurts. "Alright, then let me take you home. I'll tell you everything."
Last edited:
