Yashakiden: The Demon Princess, Volume 5 Omnibus Edition

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  No matter how reckless a remorseless killer monster might be, no way would he hide out in a hell like that. The quarry had plenty of time to escape in the time it took for the recon helicopter and patrol cars to arrive.

  Toyama was left in the care of two cars. The rest scattered to Wakamatsu and Kikuicho.

  Ryuuki had ensconced himself in that hell. Risks from radiation and cancer were human concerns. This place, right in the center of the Toyama housing project, was entirely suited to his needs.

  A nuclear bomb small enough to be carried by a single person still carried a horrifying punch. Closer to ground zero, the trees and buildings had been mowed down, the apartment blocks scorched through to their empty steel skeletons.

  The haunting night scenes glittered eerily in his eyes. The shattered concrete, like piles of discarded pottery damaged in the kiln. The twisted foliage abruptly deprived of oxygen and reduced to charcoal. In their midst, the glimmering foxfire, the glowing radiation.

  “They scattered death here and opened the gates to hell. I heard those who lived here once might have been called cousins of mine.”

  A hill rose quietly up before him as he strolled along. The highest point in the Toyama housing project, nicknamed “Hakone.” He climbed the stone stairs and sat in silence on the stone bench at its apex.

  He took the small koto from his back. The musical instrument was called Silent Night. Not ten people in Demon City knew of its magical powers. Here in Shinjuku, Toyama was also a place of destruction.

  Ryuuki strummed the strings. For whose ears did the murmuring tune and whispering voice well up?

  It is the dead of night and I cannot sleep

  so I arise and play my koto

  The curtains are aglow with moonlight

  a cool breeze brushes my sleeves

  In the far corner of the field

  a Peng bird calls out, separated from the flock

  circling the northern woods, the flock answers

  What are you looking for as you wander about?

  All you will find is a wounded heart

  Echoing across the infinite night sky came the cry of a bird. Only the night listened.

  The strings danced. Pearls flew into the sky. Tears of anger and pathos. And then there was no more. Still holding the koto, Ryuuki turned to his left. A small shadow had mounted the stairs. “We meet again,” he said in a sad voice.

  She grasped the hem of the satin skirt, curtsied and smiled, as if between father and daughter.

  “It is good to see you here unharmed. What became of that woman?”

  “You mean the mother of the children whose blood you drank?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can rest your mind in that respect. Though her wounds were severe, we took her to a hospital. She should live.”

  “I am glad to hear that.”

  “You tore out the throats of the children and drank their blood. And yet killed them such that they would not become children of the night. I might even say you killed them with compassion and sagacity.”

  Her words were affectionate, and yet like a stiletto between the ribs. Ryuuki smiled grimly. “You know me well.”

  “She’s got a better pair of eyes in the sky than those helicopters,” came a voice from above.

  Nevermore.

  “So the bird is doing well too,” Ryuuki said, sounding truly relieved. “Well, what business do you have with me?”

  “The impossibility of destroying you became apparent at the police station. So it follows that you must be confined until the only remaining method—destroying she who first took your blood—can be accomplished.”

  “I broke out of the cell you had confined me to.”

  “We are preparing one just for you. Please come with me, if you do not wish to be responsible for any more victims.”

  “If I do, I will no longer venture out into the night?”

  “I guarantee it.”

  “That is a guarantee I value highly.”

  Ryuuki stood. A veil of tranquility covered his intrepid face. His body was suddenly enveloped in a smoky fog, like condensed moonlight. Dust.

  “No, Shuuran,” he stated with firm resolution, as the bands of gray twirled around him with affection. “I will go with her. Have me kill no more. After this, I will suffer the pangs of hunger and thirst as best I can.”

  Two spots of light appeared in the darkness. Blood red.

  “Watch it!” A hoarse voice said above their heads. “His true nature is awakening!”

  “If you would, please.”

  The doll girl calmly stretched out her left hand. A golden jar rested squarely in the center of her palm. Placing her hand on the lid, the doll girl leapt backwards as Ryuuki approached.

  Without slackening his speed, Ryuuki turned to the right and began to descend the stairs.

  “Wait,” the doll girl commanded. At the same time, a raw smell roiled into the air, spreading out like a flooding tide.

  Ryuuki whirled around in surprise. Why should he run—here was the smell of blood, thick and rich and sweet, hinting of copper and steel, like nothing he had tasted before.

  “That—is—” he gasped, his mouth watering.

  Could the man he had just been—the beautiful soldier playing a mysterious tune in this little corner of the night—ever be mistaken for this creature? His face contorted. The glowing crimson rays spilled from his eyes like red drool. He finally steeled his chattering teeth.

  “Hand it over—” His hand reached out, the fingers trembling.

  “After tussling with you, Tonbeau-sama and I created this fake blood. It will taste sweeter to you than that of any human.”

  “Yes—give it to me—”

  The hungering, half-human thing inched toward her. The doll girl mirrored his steps backing away. “This is the snare to trap you. Considering how hard it is to kill you, putting you to sleep will be much easier. Knowing that, do you still want it?”

  The silhouette leapt towards her with an inarticulate growl. The dress and golden hair pranced effortlessly backward. The golden jar remained between them.

  As if fearing she might reach in and swipe it at the last second, Ryuuki dashed forward and scooped it up in his arms, casting menacing looks all around him.

  A sad expression somehow grazed the doll girl’s sweet face. “You do not look in the mood for a fight to the finish with me. Drink. Once those eyes have closed, you will slumber in the eternal darkness, never again venturing into the outside world.”

  Ryuuki raised his head and the jar. He drank like a man crawling out of the desert, the blood spilling out of the corners of his mouth and dripping onto his borrowed shirt and slacks.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, then stopped. His fingers released their iron grip on the jar. It fell with a thud to the black earth. As if taking the jar’s lead, Ryuuki toppled over several seconds later.

  The doll girl waited for the disturbed air to still, then walked up to him. She looked down at the jar and the general and Silent Night hanging from his head.

  “This alone you would not leave behind, and took it back from the police before coming here. Such marvelous playing. For a second time, I experience the deep regret of having no tears to cry.”

  She picked up the jar and tossed it into the sky. No sooner had it vanished from view but there came the flapping of large wings. Then that sound disappeared as well. The jar did not fall back to earth.

  The Peng bird returned to the north. What became of the fallen soldier?

  With the artificial blood, mixed with the detested essence of the peach, coursing through his veins, the doll girl hoisted Ryuuki onto her slender shoulders and walked quickly to the stone staircase.

  The moon hovered high overhead.

  Bathed in sunlight, Kikiou entered the room. Seeing him, Mephisto straightened the test tube. It was filled with a medicine of a curious color. Beneath it, the garish liquid collected in a beaker. This was his laboratory in the Demon Pavil
ion.

  “That agrees with you,” Mephisto said.

  The old man rubbed the wrist of the hand holding the cane with his free hand. It seemed an affectionate gesture, contemplative even.

  “You made that yourself?”

  “More or less. I apologize for imposing on the doctor’s good offices.”

  “Feel no need to refrain.”

  Kikiou turned a pair of curious eyes on Takako, lying on the bed to Mephisto’s left. “That girl, Princess was to bare her throat and take her blood. Is that why she sleeps here?”

  “This is the result of Princess’s mistake.”

  “What?”

  “Kanan-san gave birth to a separate self that Princess and Setsura are now pursuing. She apparently possesses power that could destroy this world if left unhindered.”

  “I cannot believe such a thing could occur. Then I must leave at once.”

  “Even if you do, you will not find them anytime soon. If this world is truly Princess’s own, then she will surely have her way with it. I would let them be.”

  “But—how could that girl’s body have given rise to such a thing?”

  “That would be due to me.”

  “To you?”

  “The result of the experiments both you and Princess have been well aware of. Though it was Princess who drank Kanan-san’s blood, one of them is now attempting to bask in the power unobstructed. Physically reunite them, and not even I could predict which would reign supreme.”

  “What have you done, Doctor? Bad enough that you should be searching for ways to release this girl from her servitude to Princess. But to release such a monster on this world?”

  “Weren’t you planning on making Shinjuku your own domain?”

  “That is exactly what I am saying.” Kikiou glared at Mephisto with now evident loathing. “Back to the matter at hand. If she dies, won’t the other as well?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Then—”

  “Then what do you plan on doing with my patient?”

  Caught in his cool gaze, Kikiou flinched, half from the sheer weight of his beauty. “I have no intention to act counter to your desires. However, there is something I wish to ask of you.”

  “Oh?” the white doctor asked with evident eagerness. “What would that be?”

  Kikiou licked his lips and formed his resolution into words. “Doctor, to what ends did you become one of us?”

  “You know the answer already: to learn the true nature of a world that only the vampire can comprehend.”

  “That is the only reason?”

  “The evidence before you isn’t enough? No matter what the suspect says, I gather you would not believe me. In short, no one else can understand another’s mind. The human animal is forever a bundle of doubts.”

  “Would you mind if I take that to mean you may have other ends in mind?”

  “Take it any way you please.”

  “Well, then. How goes your treatments of the girl?”

  “Not so well,” Mephisto answered without hesitation.

  Kikiou blinked at the alacrity of the response. These were words he never expected to hear coming out of this doctor’s mouth.

  “Not so well?”

  “Restoring those whose blood has been taken by a vampire to human status again without destroying the master is more improbable than resurrecting the dead. That I already understood.”

  “And doesn’t that second young woman argue against that conclusion?”

  “I suppose it could.”

  “Doctor—do you really care one way or another what happens to this world and all the rest?”

  “Well—”

  Two pairs of eyes momentarily met in midair and threw off sparks. Kikiou lowered his gaze. “I will be leaving, then,” he said with a bow.

  “I recommend that you not interfere with Princess and Setsura,” Mephisto said. “You have more important things to concern yourself with, I’m sure. Yes, of course. Would you happen to know where those moon lily flowers might be found?”

  “Quite a number are blooming in the back garden of the manor house.”

  “How about that,” said Mephisto, turning his back to him as Kikiou left the room.

  Chapter Two

  From the expression on Kikiou’s face, he was clearly wracking his brains as he strode silently among the trees. A black shadow dropped down with a soft thud, swinging an large arc around the branch of an oak tree hanging over the path.

  “You seem in a contemplative mood, Sir Kikiou.” Echoes of sarcasm and laughter accompanied the observation.

  Kikiou stopped and looked up at the upside-down Yakou. “This has become a serious matter.”

  “How terrible. You’re not planning on killing Doctor Mephisto?”

  “In fact, I am.”

  The air around them abruptly dropped a dozen degrees. “Are you really serious?” Yakou asked, his voice several shades darker.

  “That damned doctor may be beyond our power to deal with. Having been added to Princess’s number, he should feel obliged to protect and defend this world. But he has other objectives in mind.”

  “Then what becomes of this world?”

  “I suppose he intends to destroy it.”

  “Why would he? Mephisto allowed Ryuuki to drink his blood so he could behold mysteries of our world with his own two eyes. I don’t think he was lying.”

  “I thought so as well. Yet he is different. I am beginning to realize that even being one of Princess’s companions, he has an agenda of his own that we can barely begin to grasp.”

  “We can’t imagine him wrecking this place?”

  “Yes, that, but not only that. That is a far too simplistic interpretation.”

  “Then what’s a more complicated one?”

  “I do not know.” Kikiou shook his head. “I don’t know. That is what makes him such a terrifying opponent. Doctor Mephisto—compared to him, even Princess is a baby.”

  “Hmm.”

  Sensing something in that murmur, Kikiou shot a penetrating glare at Yakou. “You haven’t been taken in as well, have you?”

  “By whom?”

  “Besides him, who else has been reaching out to you?”

  Yakou didn’t answer at once.

  “Suppose that his heart’s desire is to destroy Princess and this world, with whom will you side?”

  “Princess, of course,” Yakou answered at once.

  “Good. And neither would Princess forgive a lie.”

  “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going along with what you are saying,” Yakou added with a deep note of caution. “Not as long as we have no evidence of Mephisto’s plans concerning the destruction of this world, nor any sense of his true motives.”

  “You have no need to worry. We will soon get to the bottom of it. Come with me.”

  Shrouded in sunlight, they returned to the manor house. Kikiou’s laboratory was provisioned much the same as Mephisto’s. After rattling through the shelves in the back of the room, Kikiou placed a narrow bamboo tube in front of Yakou.

  He said to the doubtful scion, “This is talking water. One drop alone and that person will answer any question posed by the interrogator. Normally it would be placed in food or drink, but have you seen that man put anything into his mouth since coming here?”

  “No,” said Yakou.

  He was a bit surprised by his own answer. That doctor in white, to be sure, was no ordinary human being. That he ate nothing was the kind of indicator that shifted the equation in far different directions. Yakou couldn’t help shaking his head in wry disbelief at his attempts to apply human assumptions to the man’s existence.

  “Exactly,” Kikiou said emphatically. “We could insist, but that would too easily tip our hand. Once he said no, we would be left without recourses. You, however, have ways of your own.”

  Yakou’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

  “If you truly care about Princess’s welfare, the thing should be se
t in motion at once.”

  “I’d like to see for myself first, to make sure you are telling the truth.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  Yakou uncorked the tube and spilled some of the contents onto his palm. He dipped his forefinger into the thick golden liquid and then swiped it across Kikiou’s lips.

  “Do you love Princess?” Yakou asked.

  “Of course,” Kikiou answered, as his eyes clouded over.

  “After everything else is taken care of, what do you intend to do with me?”

  “Kill you, if you please.”

  “I see,” said Yakou, a certain scene rising before his mind’s eye. “So it’s the real thing.” A slight but definitely licentious look crossed his face.

  The hot springs was tempting. Though it wasn’t particularly to Setsura’s liking, breathing in the plumes of sulfurous steam keenly reminded him of his bedraggled state.

  Princess hadn’t emerged since submerging herself. Gazing up at the sky, she must have sensed something, ascertained Takako’s location or the like. He glanced around through the rising plumes at the rocky area surrounding the hot springs, closed his eyes and nodded to himself.

  “All right then.”

  Leaving only his black outfit behind on the rocks, the lithe and handsome figure slipped into the hot water. The sensation in his gut—like he’d gulped down a lump of cold lead—made him draw a deep breath. The remnants of Ryuuki’s penetrator qi.

  Perhaps Princess had figured it out already, but running across the ground, swinging through the air, that unceasing cold stitch in his side sapped his strength in a flash.

  “Man, oh man,” Setsura softly said.

  He put his hand on his stomach. A dull throb radiated through his body from his finger—the wound from the mask maker’s village. He had no trouble wielding his devil wires with it—or so he’d like to claim. But he couldn’t deny that slight differences had presented themselves.