“Kenshin, I have a job for you,” called Tanaka, waving him towards us.
Kenshin hopped up from the floor, snagged a towel from a nearby bench, and ambled over. I quit clapping as Kenshin eyeballed me up and down as though I were a piece of meat. “Is this who I think it is, Father?” he asked. “The red ghost.”
“This is Valaria Valentin and Kol Takeyuchi-san. Valeria works at the library where her employer, this boy’s mother, has gone missing.”
“She was kidnapped by Kami,” corrected Kol.
Tanaka ruffled Kol’s hair then stepped in front of him, blocking him from view. Children in Japan were to be seen and not heard. “You will provide Valaria assistance in tracking down the woman.” Tanaka held his son’s eyes for just a second too long, as if something extra had been said. Before I could comment, Tanaka turned to me. “My son is a liaison between the Yakuza and the people of Tokyo. If anyone can help you find your missing friend, it is Kenshin.”
“I thought you were a myth,” said Kenshin with a lopsided grin. “An urban legend. You are a very intriguing looking creature, I must say.” His eyes locked on mine and I thought he might be trying to see into my soul. Most Japanese people had brown eyes, but Kenshin’s were a golden topaz. He reached out to finger my hair.
I batted his hand away, still holding eye contact. “I’m not a pet to be fondled. I’m a person.” Technically the part about being a person wasn’t true, but Kenshin didn’t need to know that. He just needed to understand I wasn’t on his menu.
Kenshin’s hands went up in surrender, his eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen hair like yours. It’s beautiful.” He bowed, repentant. “My apologies. I don’t know what came over me.”
His father laughed, long and loud. “How very strange. You’d best watch yourself, Son. I do believe the red ghost is immune to your charms. She also seems very capable of teaching you some manners if need be.”
Kenshin’s strange eyes scanned me up and down again as if I had confused him greatly. He was detestably rude. “You may be right about her immunity, Father. Curious, isn’t she?” To me, “Let me shower. I stink. I’ll meet you at the chashitsu down the street in an hour. I have a few ideas where we can start looking for your friend.”
In a very uncharacteristic move by Japanese standards, Kenshin offered his hand for a handshake.
I was reaching out to comply when I saw it.
A blue oni tattoo on Kenshin’s right forearm.
The demon stared at me, a red rising sun in the middle of its horned forehead.
It laughed at me. It cackled.
The oni sank a blade into my insides and stirred as if I were soup. Like I was nothing. Double, double, toil and trouble.
My mind left the present, going back one year…
Two…
Ten…
Twenty…
Chapter 5: Thirty-two Years Before
The day started like any other. I’d had the same routine for almost ten years, ever since Juro and Hana had saved Ms. Yoshi from a band of deplorables and got us an invitation to work and live on the Yoshi soybean farm. The Yoshi family didn’t seem to mind that Juro was a vampire and Hana a witch. In fact, I think it helped them feel special to have such people protecting them. A little bit of blood for Juro and some psychic energy for Hana’s magic was a small price to pay. The work was tedious, but I couldn’t complain as I had a dry bed each night and a full belly. A middle-class white kid, I’d never appreciated the importance of food and shelter before the Rift. After spending months scrounging in the city and then the countryside, I’d learned to appreciate simple pleasures.
Each day began by feeding the chickens, then collecting their eggs. I helped Ms. Yoshi-san and Hana make breakfast before tending the horses. After work in the stable and lunch preparation was complete, my early years with the family were spent in lessons. Ms. Yoshi-san felt it imperative I learn not only how to speak Japanese but read it. I was also taught the traditional tea ceremony. Before the ethnic cleansing, I think Ms. Yoshi and Hana secretly dreamed of marrying me off one day. In later years, after my education was deemed sufficient, I spent my afternoons doing laundry or combing the forests for berries, herbs, and mushrooms—depending on the season—before returning home to help with dinner. Of all the tasks, foraging in the woods was my favorite. I could almost forget what had happened to the world inside those woods. Except for a few strange plants, I could imagine myself in the forest behind our house in Georgia. The woods felt spacious and free. The Yoshis were a lovely family, but including Juro, Hana and I, twelve of us lived crammed into their small house. Personal space wasn’t a luxury we had, and after the ethnic cleansing, the time in the forests were my only escape from the farm.
Having stumbled on a veritable bounty of wood ear mushrooms, the first of the season, I was happily humming to myself when an arrow struck the tree where I knelt. When I jumped up to run, I crashed into a mountain of a man wrapped in animal skins. I stumbled, turned, and collided into another man, then another. Six men surrounded me, laughing heartily at my panic as they groped and twisted me around from one to the other. “Please,” I begged, breathless, tears streaming down my face. “Let me go.” I doubted the hunters intended me as their prey when they’d started their day, but prey was what I’d become.
They each took a turn with me. I only remember the first of them and the last. In between, I went somewhere else. They took my body, but I wasn’t there. I was gone. I was in my room in Georgia watching Buffy reruns with my best friend. I was at Six Flags eating cotton candy with my family. I was sitting at my grandmother’s warped and weathered Formica table eating her chocolate chip cookies while she talked about meeting my granddad. I sat protected in my father’s arms watching movies on a cold winter day.
I came back to myself as the last of the six was finishing. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, lying among the mushrooms. One hour? Two? I had no idea how long a typical man took to climax. A virgin, I hadn’t even kissed a boy yet. Returned to my nightmare, I opened my eyes to be greeted by a blue oni with a devilish grin. A red, rising sun displayed prominently in the middle of the oni’s horned forehead. Japan was the devil’s country. A cursed world. The muscles and tendons below the oni tattoo vibrated and strained as their owner took his last fill of me.
When he rolled off and stood to zip his pants, I thought the nightmare was over. I believed the oni would leave.
They didn’t.
Instead, they gathered in a circle and ate a meal as I lay not five feet away. They laughed and joked and acted as if they hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe they didn’t think they had.
I wanted to run but was afraid the entire group might give chase. Instead, I lay perfectly still…a scared little rabbit frozen with fear. I prayed for them to leave without taking another turn. I prayed to sink into the ground and become invisible. I prayed for mercy.
In hindsight, I wish I had tried to run. There’s a small chance things might have turned out differently if I had. Before the six men took their leave, they surrounded me once more and again took a turn, only this time they pierced me with arrows. Five arrows in all. The sixth missed, much to their mutual amusement.
And that was how they left me without a backwards glance.
A discarded, used-up toy.
Naked.
Bleeding.
Full of arrows.
Chapter 6
With my first sip of bancha tea, I set down a queen and a jack, knowing I was about to lose the poker hand. I was almost positive Kol held a pair of aces. He’d slightly flushed at the flop when one ace appeared and even harder at the turn when another was revealed. His excitement smelled sweet, like a ripe pear. With my heightened senses, I didn’t enjoy playing cards. There was no thrill with most people being so easy to read, but I wanted to keep Kol occupied as we waited for Kenshin. Given how spooked and anxious I felt at Midori’s abduction, I could only imagine how Kol was coping. A smoky smell underlaid his sweet bouque
t of pear indicating a certain amount of fear…despite his brave face.
Kol slammed down his cards. “Read ’em and weep. Pocket rockets!” Kol did a little dance in his chair, then gathered up the cards to shuffle. “It’s been over an hour,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Maybe we should move towards the front? Kenshin could have missed us.”
“He didn’t miss us,” I said, hunkering down in my hood. We sat in the shadows of a vine-covered pergola, near a crumbling back wall bathed in morning glories. I liked our secluded spot. Giant pots of camellias surrounded us. “The Yakuza keep their own time, I’m sure.”
“Do you think he’ll be able to help us?” asked Kol, dealing the cards.
I peeked at my cards—a two and an eight. I kept my face impassive despite holding one of the worst hands in poker. Today was not my day. Not with the cards and not with Tanaka. I’d gone to him hoping for some information, a place to start, not to acquire what now seemed to be a babysitter. A babysitter who probably thought I was pretty damned weird given the zone-out I’d done on seeing his blue oni. Kol had to practically knock me over to get me to snap out of it. My blunder didn’t provide a great first impression, and I vowed to make a better second one. With that in mind, I was half-heartedly bluffing Kol with my terrible hand, trying to make him think I held a flush, while thinking through how I wanted to control the parameters of my relationship with Kenshin. Did I want him to make a few key introductions then disappear, or should I keep him around for muscle?
I was distracted and noticed Kol tense a second too late as a pair of hands landed on my shoulders.
Reacting on instinct, I threw the full force of my body back against whomever was behind me. My head hit abs, and the chair toppled over onto the person behind me. Pinned underneath me, I rolled backwards up and out of the chair, ready to land an elbow on my assailant’s nose.
I barely stopped myself in time.
My attacker was Kenshin. The idiot.
I jumped up and yanked the chair off him. “Sorry,” I said, not really meaning it. Who sneaks up on someone they barely know?
A beautiful, petite, young Japanese woman dressed in a red silk kimono bent down to help Kenshin up, then proceeded to dust him off in a very familiar way. My hackles immediately rose at seeing her. I didn’t sign on for a partner—much less a partner with a girlfriend in tow.
Kenshin didn’t seem perturbed to have been toppled. Quite the contrary, he laughed, greatly amused. “I wanted to see if you lived up to the reputation of the red ghost. You do. In fact, I don’t think those rumors did you justice. Your reflexes are amazing.”
“Rule number one. Never touch me unless invited.”
“Duly noted. You don’t have many friends, do you?”
Kenshin took a seat along with the woman and reached for our pot of bancha. He took a whiff then chucked it out.
“Hey,” I yelled. “We were drinking that.” Where did this guy get off insulting my personality and then ditching my tea? I doubted he had many friends either.
He gestured to the server, “Shincha, please. And some food. The best of whatever you’ve got.” Turning back to the table, he eyed me up and down again. You don’t look poor enough for bancha tea. Stuff tastes like straw. Have whatever you want. My treat.”
“Really,” asked Kol, perking up. “Anything?”
“Sure kid, anything.”
Kol smiled, circling a hand around his belly. “Awesome.” Unfortunately, his smile turned to a frown only moments later.
Kenshin seemed perplexed at the change, but I understood. “You need to eat, buddy, to keep up your strength so we can find your mom.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
Having Kenshin’s attention, I flicked my eyes to the unknown girl beside him. “I wasn’t looking for a partner, much less partners. More is not merrier. No offense, Miss.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Kenshin. “Which is why I brought my sister, Yuki. She’s great with kids and can look after Kol while we ask around about Midori.”
I shook my head. “I don’t feel comfortable letting him out of my sight. Again, no offense to you, Yuki.”
“I can help,” said Kol. “No one knows my mom better than me.”
“He’s right,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I can protect him.”
Kenshin cocked an eyebrow. “One of the places we need to go is not child friendly.”
“I’m not a kid,” whined Kol, voice ticking up an octave. “And it’s my mom who’s missing.”
“Yuki is an excellent card player,” said Kenshin surveying our half-played hand of poker. He picked up the cards and gave them to Yuki. “You might learn a few things, Kol.”
Kol snorted, folding his arms. “I doubt that.”
Despite sounding unimpressed, Kol seemed to relax, which was odd because on a typical—your mom hasn’t been kidnapped—day, the kid was wound almost as tight as me. His eyes followed Yuki’s hands as she split the deck into two even piles of twenty-six cards, fanned the cards, then riffle-shuffled multiple times, followed by a split cut. Her shuffle took less than twenty seconds and resembled a skilled dance of cards. Next, Yuki sailed two cards to each of us. “Ante up.”
Kol and I hadn’t been playing with real money, instead using the stale rice grains littering the table. He gathered them into a pile and distributed the tiny kernels evenly between the four of us. “I’ll be the big blind,” he offered, throwing in four grains. This made me the small blind, and I pushed in three. Kenshin and Yuki each followed with one.
“Where do we need to go?” I asked, worry niggling me. In many respects, Kol was far more capable of dealing with day-to-day Tokyo than I’d ever been, seeing as I’d spent most of my time in my room at the library or a deserted radioactive wasteland. “Don’t tell me a flesh den because I don’t see how Midori’s kidnapping could possibility be related to anything happening there. She didn’t visit such places.” I glanced at my cards to find a pair of kings, and I wondered if maybe my day was turning around. I wouldn’t mind trouncing Kenshin at poker, especially considering my heart rate hadn’t quieted after his ill-fated sneak attack.
The conversation and card game paused as the server delivered a new pot of tea and a plate full of spicy edamame, yakitori, shumai, and shrimp. The food smelled delicious, and I didn’t hesitate to help myself. Kol’s blood had only partially sated my thirst. Human food could sometimes help with my cravings. What I really needed to do was meditate, but I couldn’t see time for that in the immediate future.
Yuki dealt the flop—an eight and ten of hearts and a king of clubs. It was Kol’s turn first, and he put in a single rice grain. I could tell he wasn’t happy with his cards by the aroma of disappointment radiating off him in waves. With three kings at the flop, I felt pretty good about my chances, so I raised his one grain with four of my own. Judging from Yuki’s floral bouquet and the slight upturn of her mouth, I guessed she had a decent hand and that Kenshin would bluff or fold as his aroma was a static oaky musk, indicating neither excitement nor despair. I was personally hoping he’d bluff because beating someone who folded at the flop wasn’t nearly as rewarding. As luck would have it, Yuki matched my four grains…as did Kenshin. Kol folded with a big harrumph.
“There are two places we should check out and yes, one is a flesh den,” said Kenshin, tapping his cards. “You’d be surprised at the people who visit those places. It’s why Masa, the owner, has his finger on the pulse of the city.” Kenshin paused to study me for a second as I plopped another shrimp in my mouth. He shook his head. “The second place…you’ll like. There will be an assortment of items to eat. I’ve never seen a woman put so much away.”
“The Yakuza run this city. I’d think they’d be the ones with their fingers on its pulse,” I said, as Yuki dealt the turn card—a jack of hearts. The card was of no help to me but judging from everyone’s reactions it was also of no help to anyone else.
Kenshin’s eyebrow popped up at my comment, his eye
s twinkling. I might have found his topaz eyes beautiful if they weren’t attached to such a…a…smooth operator. “We have our fingers on the pulse of the city because of a network of informants. We don’t learn shit by magic or by reading library books. We actually have to go out and find it ourselves.”
“Did you just dis books?” I asked. “Because books are cool.”
“If you’re a bookworm, maybe,” shot back Kenshin.
“I believe you mean book dragon.”
“I need to pee,” said Kol, breaking into the conversation. He did a little pee dance in his chair. The kid was always waiting until the last minute.
“Let me finish this hand, buddy, and then I’ll take you,” I said, throwing in three rice grains.
“He’s not five, the kid can go to the shitter by himself,” said Kenshin, rolling his eyes.
“Rule number two: Don’t be crude, especially around Kol,” I retorted.
“You’re the youngest, old schoolmarm, I’ve ever met. Lighten up. Have some fun.”
“His mother was just kidnapped. I’m not letting him out of my sight. And rule number three: None of this is supposed to be fun.”
Kenshin sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “With your attitude, I’m pretty sure it won’t be.”
Silencing our repartee, Yuki folded her hand and stood, passing me the whole deck so I could deal the river card. “You’re hard to read, Valentin, but my gut says you have me beat. I’ll take the kid to the toilet. You two don’t get into a brawl while we’re gone. This is my favorite teahouse, and I don’t want to get blacklisted.”
Kol glanced at me to see if it was okay to go with Yuki. When I nodded, he bolted for the outhouse, Yuki on his heels.
“Looks like it’s just us.” Kenshin smiled, throwing in three rice grains to call.
“Lucky me,” I snorted. I dealt the final card, a king of diamonds. I normally found it easy to keep a poker face, probably something to do with being a vampire, but at seeing the river card, I had to work at not giving anything away. I had four kings which meant not much could beat me. I threw in ten grains of rice hoping to appear bolshy and seem as if I might be bluffing.
Tokyo's Last Vampire: Division 12: The Berkhano Vampire Collection Page 3