Vengeance Is Mine

by Shiden Kanzaki

  Her profile had a quiet resignation to it. “I might take a little longer in the restroom.”

  Saying that, she left the room.

  She never returned.

  “Hey, Midori…!”

  “Midori!”

  There were a number of thin bright bands of light from the flashlights cutting through the darkness, exposing the uneven terrain.

  Enju and Kisara cried out earnestly, but there was no answer.

  Rentaro felt his feet sink slightly into the damp, muddy ground as he called out to Midori, who was nowhere to be found.

  “Would she really be in a place like this?” Kisara asked Rentaro in irritation.

  “But this is the only place we haven’t looked yet.” Rentaro checked his watch and cursed. It was 11 p.m. They had already been searching for an hour. He heard voices and saw lights here and there in the distance; it was almost a mountain manhunt. He didn’t think that she would be in a forest like this, but since this was the only place left by process of elimination, he was hoping against hope.

  A three-forked road appeared out of the darkness in front of him. “Enju, go left. Kisara, go right.”

  They nodded at each other, and then Rentaro took the path in front of him. If Midori had already released her power, she could be long gone from their search area. But why in the world would she do that? Rentaro was filled with an unknown impatience and fear, and he practically ran as he called out into the dark, but his voice was almost immediately swallowed up by the darkness. His feelings of futility increased, and his side started hurting with a different kind of ominous premonition.

  He was pushing his way through the deep grove of trees and halfway up the slope of the mountain when he slipped unexpectedly.

  Cursing, his vision spun. He stretched out his hand, struggling to stop slipping somehow. He fell with a lump of earth, and when he finally stopped rolling, he stood as he spat the mud out from his mouth, looking around him. He had apparently fallen into a crater-shaped depression that was filled with a light mist.

  And there she was.

  “Midori!”

  He hurried toward her, only to stop, immediately sensing that something was wrong.

  Beyond the mist, the girl was sitting with her back leaned against the trunk of a white Japanese birch tree. Her head hung low, and she showed no sign of responding to his voice. She also did not look like she was sleeping. Her pointed hat had blown away, exposing the cat ears that she was so shy about showing other people.

  Rentaro took one more step and noticed that something red had splattered on the white birch tree behind her back. “Mido…ri…?”

  There was no answer. His arms and legs started shaking on their own. He didn’t want to see it or know what had happened. Fighting desperately against the feeling, his legs seemed to belong to something else as they moved toward the girl.

  His legs stopped in front of the girl. Her sleepy-looking, half-closed eyes did not reflect anything of this world anymore. Her gaze was still, and even when he shined a light into them, he could see no reflex to prove that she was alive. From her mouth, red blood had mixed with her saliva, dragging a long thread down like a weight. From her mouth to the back of her medulla oblongata was a small, round hole. The impact of the sight completely overshadowed the automatic pistol that lay on the ground next to her, making it look small in comparison.

  Next to her was a scrap of paper that said, “I do not want to be a burden, so I will die. Please take care of Tokyo Area.”

  Rentaro fell to his knees with his eyes still open wide. “It’s…my fault…”

  “Really? You didn’t cheat just now, did you?” When he held her finger and realized that she had lost feeling in her left hand, Rentaro lied right away. But then, when she asked him this question, he panicked for a moment. That was when she understood from Rentaro’s reaction that she was beyond saving and resolutely decided to die.

  What the hell was “It would make me and Shoma the happiest if you rested and got better quickly right now”? She had seen right through Rentaro’s empty lies. That’s why she had smiled at him so sadly.

  He remembered the sight of the eight of them promising to return alive.

  It seemed so far in the past.

  When she had left her room, she had turned around and started to say something, but in the end, she left without finishing her sentence. What in the world had she wanted to say?

  He could never hear her answer to that question now.

  Come on, smile, Rentaro Satomi.

  With this, you were able to get rid of the baggage that was getting in the way of your adjuvant without dirtying your hands.

  With this, you didn’t have to kill Midori and make Kisara scorn you, or be laughed at by Kagetane for not being able to kill her.

  Isn’t this best conclusion you could’ve had? Come on, smile.

  Rentaro hit the trunk of the tree as hard as he could with his fist and looked up into the sky.

  “God damnnn iiiiiiiit!!!”

  “…………”

  Shoma leaned over and looked at her condition for a while, then gently closed her eyelids and used her hat to cover her face. He tilted his head back and faced the sky, pressing on his eyes with his hands. “…I was empty. When I met Midori, she was empty, too. We were the same. That’s why we worked together. It was a contract to fill each other’s loneliness.”

  Rentaro couldn’t bear it any longer and cast down his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should tell everyone in the adjuvant about her death or not. But in any case, he thought her Promoter at least should know the truth, so he had brought Shoma here.

  Shoma looked at Rentaro. “Satomi, let’s tell the others she ran away and hide the fact that she died. Everyone would be too shaken.”

  “Shoma, man…” He had been ready to accept any type of scolding. But what was with Shoma’s reaction? Rentaro’s heart would have felt lighter if Shoma had just told Rentaro off with all his might. If it had been Enju lying there in this transformed state, Rentaro would have killed whoever was there with him, even if he knew he was just venting.

  But Shoma shook his head. “I really should have been the one to help her to die. I, her partner…”

  “Shoma, what was the emptiness you were talking about earlier…?”

  Shoma looked down, sorrowfully. “I quit the Tendo Style, remember? I was expelled.”

  Rentaro was astonished. Expelled? The brilliant student that Kisara and I looked up to was expelled?

  “Satomi, you saw it, too, didn’t you? That time Kisara made a mistake and allowed a Gastrea to attack, and I jumped in to save her.”

  “…Yeah.” The Rokuro Kabuto that Shoma had used had not only killed the pill bug Gastrea but had also made his opponent’s body explode and scatter in all directions.

  The essence of the Tendo Style was to use a focused power to defeat and incapacitate the opponent, so destroying organs and other such cruel techniques were not expected. However, the technique Shoma used was obviously a killing technique to which he had modified and added his own style.

  “I strayed from the straight path. That’s why I was expelled. I was betrayed by the Tendo Style that I had believed in and got lost by the wayside. That’s also why I disguised myself as a civil officer.”

  Rentaro didn’t say anything.

  “According to Master Sukekiyo, if I continued like this, I would use my power for evil. That’s why I’m actually forbidden from using the Tendo techniques themselves.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Kisara and I both know that you wouldn’t do that.”

  Shoma lifted the corner of his mouth just a little, looking happy. “I don’t know what’ll happen in the future. I don’t think God knows, either.”

  “Shoma, man, I’m so sorry… This was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t you who killed Midori, it was the Gastrea. If you want to grieve over her death, then swear right here, right now that you will defeat Aldebaran and save Tokyo Area.” Shoma silently
stretched his arm out to Rentaro. “Stand up, Satomi. You’re the commander. If you don’t do it, then it’ll be Tokyo Area’s turn next. Midori’s death was no more than a sign. More gruesome deaths will be strewn around. You must stop Tokyo Area from becoming a sea of blood. You’re going to do it.”

  Rentaro’s soul trembled. Even though Shoma had just lost his Initiator, who was like a part of him, he had not been overcome by resentment or sadness; instead, he’d told Rentaro what needed to be done. He was the proper successor to the Tendo Martial Arts, after all.

  Rentaro closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Then, he slowly opened his eyes and tightly grasped Shoma’s outstretched arm.

  His heart had decided.

  Checking his watch, he saw that Japan had started a new day without him noticing. Tomorrow, construction of the new Monolith would begin. However, since the danger of Aldebaran coming back to make it collapse again even after they finished building it remained, he needed to defeat it with his own two hands, after all.

  It was starting. The last day. The day of the final decisive battle.

  Rentaro took one last look at Midori and then started walking without looking back again.

  The Third Kanto Battle had claimed another victim. Rentaro wouldn’t allow it to claim any more.

  4

  Early the next morning, Rentaro put his hands on the washstand of the dimly lit public bathroom and stared at the partially clouded-over surface of the mirror. Amid the countless cracks on the mirror’s surface were reflected many Rentaros with grim expressions.

  The words Kagetane Hiruko said in the forest the day before yesterday crossed his mind.

  “I can see the mask you wear, you know. The guardian mask you wear when interacting with your Initiator, the Tendo Civil Security Agency Employee mask you wear when you work as an employee of that female boss of yours, and the facing the enemy mask you’re wearing now with me. Aren’t they all different Rentaro Satomis?”

  Around the world, there were a number of ceremonies and rituals held by people of different races and ethnicities that involved the wearing of masks. When people wore masks, the lines between reality and illusion, gods and humans, life and death all became blurred, allowing them to believe that they could become something different from themselves.

  If that’s the case, then I’ll become the civil officer troop commander, Rentaro Satomi, right now.

  He told this over and over to the Rentaro Satomi in the mirror, imagining that he was putting on a cold mask.

  “Satomi, it’s time.” When Rentaro looked toward the voice, he saw Kisara standing in the entrance of the bathroom.

  “What about the thing I asked for?”

  Kisara glanced at Rentaro’s remade jacket under her armpit with unease. “Are you really going to do it?”

  “Of course. Stay next to me, Kisara. All right, let’s go,” he said, urging Kisara on and trying to go outside. But something seemed to be bothering Kisara that she just had to get out, and she stopped, looking up at Rentaro through her lashes.

  “Um, you know, Satomi…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Satomi, have you noticed? You have a really scary expression on your face right now.”

  The civil officers who had been gathered without explanation early in the morning and then made to wait in vain were obviously irritated. And that irritation reached its peak just as Rentaro took the stage with Kisara accompanying him.

  “Hey, that’s…”

  “That’s Commander Gado’s…”

  “What the hell?” Rentaro could hear similar complaints all over the place.

  Rentaro allowed Gado’s cloak with the troop crest to undulate, blowing in the wind as he walked in front of them to stand at the podium. He glared over the gathered civil officers, sighing inwardly without letting it show in his face.

  Their numbers were sparse, and more than angry, they looked exhausted. Rentaro had heard ahead of time that they only had a little more than sixty people, but of those, there were hardly any who were uninjured. Their hearts were anywhere but here, and they were far from being unified. They couldn’t do anything with their anger and would do anything to vent, so they followed the closest thing that wanted them. They did not even seem to have the desire to win.

  I see. So this is an army that would face certain defeat, Rentaro thought.

  When he looked around, he saw Enju and the Katagiri siblings watching over him with concerned expressions.

  “I’m Rentaro Satomi, and I will command in place of Commander Gado, who died in battle.”

  Immediately after he spoke, angry voices flew about, booing and jeering. Rentaro could hardly bear to listen:

  “You can’t take the place of Commander Gado!”

  “Get off the stage!”

  “If you’re gonna stick out that face, then I’m outta here.”

  Just then, someone with a conspicuously loud voice appeared and shouted, “Hey, everyone!” It was a Promoter in his mid-thirties, one who was barely injured. He was probably the type who ran away right when the battle started and didn’t actually fight that much.

  His face, including his nose, was flat. His head stuck out in the back, making it look like an inverted triangle. Was this what was called an expressionless face? He was a boring man with a boring face.

  Said face turned red like a monkey’s as he jeered. “We can’t follow orders from someone like this. It’s all over for Tokyo Area. It’s over. If that’s the case, then don’t you want to go home to your family and loved ones and spend your last days with them, everyone?”

  As the man stirred them up, other civil officers murmured their agreement. The man certainly had a point. With the daily reports, the whole world already knew that Tokyo Area was losing. The price of any and all the stocks on the Tokyo Area exchange had dropped so low that they were like scraps of paper. Interest rates for government bonds went up suddenly, and to make up for that, the yen suddenly became extremely weak. Despite all this, before the Third Kanto Battle, Tokyo Area had been considered a strong country with a safe haven currency, with its prosperous Varanium exports and track record of defeating the Zodiac Scorpion.

  All the rich and famous had long flown to other areas or countries, and no one in the world thought the civil officers would win. It was a hard situation to remain hopeful in.

  The man continued shouting. “Hey, let’s all indulge ourselves together. It’s not like there’s anyone who can stop us. The new commander’s so scared he can’t even talk.” The man stuck out his middle finger at Rentaro. “Hey, you. Try saying something.”

  “Shut up,” said Rentaro.

  “Huh?” At first, the man was taken aback, but the next instant, he looked at his supporters around him and started to smile with contempt. “Hey, you heard that, didn’t you? He said, ‘Shut up,’” the man scoffed.

  “Kisara, I’m going to borrow this.” Saying that, Rentaro didn’t wait for an answer as he drew the murderous blade Yukikage.

  “Hey, wait—” offered Kisara, but he left her behind as he jumped off the stage and went near the man.

  The crowd of people parted briefly, and the man snorted. “What do you want? If you’re gonna do it, go ahead and try, you lily-livered—”

  Before he finished talking, Rentaro casually stuck the Japanese blade into the man’s shoulder.

  The air around them froze. There was the sound of someone gulping. The frozen man turned his head, trembling with fear, and looked with disbelief at the naked sword sticking out of his shoulder. “Gyahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”

  After Rentaro stared down at the man rolling on the ground with cold eyes, he slowly looked at around him. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

  The crowd drew back with a stir. The scornful voices stopped. Even Enju’s eyes were wide at the sudden change in him.

  A Promoter with a bandanna seemed on the verge of tears as he said plaintively, “Why us?!”

  “Because there’s no one else but us,�
�� Rentaro answered.

  “There’s no way we have enough people with these numbers!”

  “If we don’t have enough people, then we will add some to our number.”

  The man was about to laugh at the impossibility of it, and smiled stiffly. “Where would we find people like that? Don’t tell me you’re going to recruit the doctors and suppliers deployed to us?”

  “There are people. Over there.” Saying that, Rentaro jerked his chin, and everyone looked in the direction he indicated. And then groans of surprise could be heard here and there.

  “Wait, don’t tell me you—” The man’s face was pale as it turned from the gym back to Rentaro.

  “That’s right. The injured.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! There are people whose ears or arms and legs have been blown off in there, you know.”

  “But they aren’t dead. If we lose this fight, everyone’s going to die anyway. And there are those who are faking illness because they don’t want to fight. We’ll take all of them and add another forty people.”

  The man’s face beaded with sweat. “Y-you’re crazy. You’re insane! Hey, everyone, why aren’t you saying anything? The new commander’s out of his mind!”

  That man looked behind Rentaro and a grin appeared on his face. “Chikaze! Kill him!”

  Rentaro turned reflexively and saw the muzzle of an AK-47 assault rifle. The girl pulled the trigger, and with flashy muzzle fire, 7.6-mm bullets rushed at Rentaro in a fully automatic sweep.

  Right before they hit Rentaro, there was a thunderous sound, and a bluish-white phosphorescence repelled all the bullets, sending them in all directions. Rentaro protected his face from the scalding wind pressure and opened his eyes slightly. “Kagetane, huh?”

  The coattails of the mysterious masked man standing in front of Rentaro fluttered in the wind.

  The assault rifle fell to the ground with a clang, and the girl called Chikaze held both arms up in surrender. At the girl’s neck was Kohina’s short sword, which had cut a thin line into the skin.

  In the midst of the frozen spectators, Kagetane slowly turned off the field and spread his arms dramatically. “Kohina and I will also put ourselves under Satomi’s command. Do you still think we don’t have enough people?”