“It might be more dangerous with them here,” Kentaro muttered as he stepped through the portal to the underground.
The other two members of the team had not taken kindly to their new assignments. Following their recent insubordination, Mei had them following up on bogus leads on Tsukishima and some of the other reclaimeds in Tokyo Bay. At the station, they would complain loudly and often to anyone who would listen. But rather than seeing it as a waste of manpower, Mei felt they were getting more done without those two hindering their efforts.
“I think the three of us are plenty for this job.”
Mei followed Kentaro into the dark. Watanabe sighed, then walked after them. They began descending into the bowels of the station. The walls and floor grew slicker and heavier with slime and mold as they went. Mei shone her light over the wall next to them as they descended. It was black with mold and tufts of spores with blackish stalks. Kentaro reached out with one gloved hand to touch it.
“Don’t touch the walls!” Mei barked from behind.
“We’re wearing gloves,” Kentaro said, his hand inches from the spores.
“Trancespore can grow in clothing. You don’t want to take any of it back with you.”
He pulled his hand back. “Good point.”
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves in a large walkway for the underground mall beneath the station. In the lead, Watanabe fumbled with his light before clicking it on and aiming it up at the dim walkway ahead. Mei gasped at the sight.
The walkway was lined with faces staring back at them, with people at least three deep on either side. The meager light glinted in their eyes as they stood motionless. A few had the same skeletal tattoo work that Shigeo had, while most of the others’ faces were painted in nothing more than dirt. All stared back with empty, vacant eyes.
“Are you the Invited?” Mei called out to no one in particular.
“You are the Invited!” came a booming voice in response. “For you see—”
“Oh, not this shit again,” Kentaro hissed under his breath.
Down at this level, the water was several inches deep on the ground. Up ahead a man was approaching, which Mei could hear before she could see as he sloshed through the water. When he came into sight, Mei saw he had the same shifting facial tattoo as Shigeo. Just like Shigeo’s, it seemed to fluctuate and alter as one looked at it, depending on the light. Only down here in the dark, it took on a decidedly more sinister look than Shigeo’s had had under the station’s bright fluorescents. His face was cracked open in a welcoming grin.
“You in charge here?” Mei asked.
“I suppose you could say that,” the man said. “My name is Jin.”
“Ah, we’ve heard so much about you. Now, Jin, is that a first name or a last name?”
“Just Jin. But I must say, you do not look like the usual seekers we get here.”
“We’re with the police. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Yes, of course, right this way.”
With that, Jin turned and began walking down the hallway he had come from. They tailed behind, walking past rows of filthy, broken-down stores lined in front by filthy, broken-down people. The place smelled of mold and rot, interspersed with hits of a gasoline odor. The Invited just stared at them as they walked past with glassy eyes. None of them moved, or even acknowledged their presence save for a slight turn of the head as they walked past.
Beyond the people’s vacant expressions loomed the yawning, gaping maws of empty storefronts. Most were entirely dark, except for a few in which candlelight flickered or portable torches guttered. Mei saw people scurrying around in a few of them but couldn’t tell if they were living quarters or used for some other purpose.
“You live down here?” Mei asked as they walked.
“Many of those that come end up living here, yes. Most of us have nowhere else to go.”
“I don’t think I could do it,” Kentaro said.
“You’d be surprised what you get used to when you don’t have a choice. Besides, it offers an ideal spot for my … ministry, you could say.”
“What about the water?” Watanabe asked. “One big typhoon or storm surge and you’ll be up to your necks in runoff.”
“The price you pay for affordable real estate, I’m afraid.”
“That’s clever,” Mei said. “But I’d still be afraid of drowning.”
“We do not fear death down here.”
“Uh-huh. What’s in there?” Mei asked, gesturing towards a store that was locked up. The sign above indicated that it used to be a UNIQLO store in a former life. It was the only one here that was closed off.
“Afraid we haven’t been able to get into that one yet,” Jin said with barely a glance.
“They would have to have locked it even as the water was pouring in,” Kentaro mused.
Their host chuckled ahead of them in the dark. “No doubt some store manager with his eyes on a corporate gig, afraid to violate company policy even with death closing in. Strange what some people regard as important. Even with death’s cold breath on their neck.”
Watanabe wandered over and gave a pull on the door. It held firm. “Probably. Wonder if he made it out?”
“I doubt it. This way please.”
Jin ushered them into a restaurant and motioned for them to seat themselves around a table in the middle of the room.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Mei said.
“It’s home,” Jin said with a shrug. “I don’t suppose I can interest you in anything to eat or drink, can I?”
They all declined.
“And you live here full-time?”
“Yes, we have everything we need right here. Grow rooms for food, water purifiers, generators to power the essential equipment, living quarters. And if there’s something we need, the surface is just a few feet away.” He smiled devilishly. “But I doubt you came here purely for a social visit.”
“Actually, we wanted to talk to you about one of yours,” Mei said. “We had a visitor up top recently, dressed in a unique manner similar to your own.”
Jin smiled. “Yes, I know how I must look to you.”
“Like a guy in an off-brand Halloween costume who got kicked out of a Santeria church for drinking too much?”
“Yes! Yes! That’s good!” Jin said with a genuine laugh. “With such a quick wit, I’m surprised you haven’t caught that serial killer yet!”
“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about,” Kentaro said.
“Yes, how is Shigeo doing? I hope you’re treating him well—he’s a rather confused young man.”
“So you know that he came to us?” Mei said.
Jin nodded. “I suspected as much when you arrived. We had another poisoning recently. Some of our flock began hallucinating badly. It’s enough to lay most people out for a while, but Shigeo is made of sterner stuff.”
“I’m sorry, a poisoning?” Mei asked. “Who would do such a thing?”
“It’s not a matter of who, but of what,” Jin said, waving his hands towards the walls. There Mei saw a dense patch of mold and spores creeping up a spotted wall.
“Claviceps negrum. Trancespore, some call it. It gets into our food sometimes, or every now and then a patch will flower and release spores into the air. Either way, a concentrated dose is enough to produce powerful hallucinations in a person. Usually combined with overwhelming feelings of dread, paranoia, even a psychotic break. I would imagine Shigeo was in the grip of such an episode when he wandered up top.”
“That would certainly explain his testimony,” Kentaro said. “Have you tried eradicating it? Scrubbing it from your … living area?”
“We have,” Jin said with a nod. “But we just ended up releasing more into the air. It’s a hearty organism, this spore. Like it’s determined to get inside us, show us something, even.”
“I heard that you take it intentionally, that it’s part of your … ritual or whatever.”
&
nbsp; Jin waved dismissively, his expression indicating that the notion was simply preposterous. “I’ve been poisoned with it before. Believe me, you do not want to see what it shows you.” With that, he looked straight at Mei.
“What is it you’re doing down here, exactly?” Mei asked.
“I’m showing people a new way. Extending an invitation, if you will.”
“To what?”
“To death. I’m showing people left behind by life and the living that there is another way. The land of the living has rejected them, but death welcomes us with open arms.”
“But … why?” was all Mei could ask.
“Why what?” Jin replied, smiling sweetly.
“Why preach death?”
“Do you not see the world you live in, Detective Kimura? Is that it? Or do you see it, but refuse to believe your eyes?”
Mei didn’t respond.
“Tell me, do you know the story of Izanagi-no-Mikoto and Izanami-no-Mikoto?”
“The god and goddess of creation in Japanese lore,” Watanabe said.
“Close. Izanami is the goddess of creation, and death. According to lore, Izanami was burned alive giving birth to the fire god Kagu-tsuchi, and banished to the underworld. Izanagi followed her there, only to flee in terror when he beheld her decayed, worm-eaten corpse. He promised not to look, but couldn’t help himself, you see. In her shame and rage, she promised to kill a thousand living people a day. He swore to give life to one and a half for every one she claimed for death. Now, tell me, who do you think is winning?
“Because when I look around at your world up top, I see nothing but death. There’s no sun anymore, the fog choked it off and left its light to die. Children and adults disappear into the gloom and turn up dead, if they turn up at all. Criminals make a mockery of the law as they butcher people, while the good lay down their arms and wait for death. Even breathing is fatal, now that the cancer’s airborne.”
“You reckon you get a good sense of what’s going on up top from down here?” Kentaro asked.
“Trust me, I see more clearly through my three eyes from down here than you see from your none,” Jin said with a vicious smile.
“It’s a nice story,” Mei said. “But I’ve never been big on fairy tales.”
“You believe in at least one fairy tale,” Jin said. He arched one eyebrow as he held a dirty finger towards the cross around her neck. “Unless that’s just a bauble you wear because it looks pretty.”
“It’s not just decoration, it’s what I believe,” Mei said through gritted teeth. “And don’t call the death of our Lord and Savior a fairy tale again.”
“Oh, my beliefs are fairy tales, but yours are immutable fact, are they? Why? Because someone told them to you as a child and they’ve remained credible ever since? Tell me, Detective Kimura, what other rigid beliefs do you have that are inviolable? What other airy notions hardened to fact in your brain and have escaped the harsh light of critical scrutiny?”
Mei remained silent, not wishing to get dragged into his mind games.
“Because I can tell you that my beliefs were hard-won, each and every one. The belief that things would get better had to be beaten out of me, quite literally, a number of times before I accepted what the voice was telling me. Before I accepted Her calling. Just because you don’t like something, that doesn’t make it untrue. Look around you—the people you see here have been rejected, spurned, cast out. There is no place for them anymore among the living. But even outcasts and pariahs need something to believe in. I provide them with that.”
“You’re not going to start killing people, are you?” Kentaro asked. He seemed almost annoyed.
“We’re not like those other belief systems,” Jin said. “We respect death. We invite, but do not compel.”
“Just making sure.”
“Now, what about Shigeo?”
Kentaro answered. “We’ll hold him for another day or two while we verify that he’s not a danger to himself or others. If he’s not, he’ll be released.”
Jin nodded. Then his face brightened into a smile. “Well, then, anything else I can do for you?”
Mei shook her head, then stood up. Her companions followed suit. As she was turning to go, Jin lunged at her, clasping her arm in a viselike grip. He moved too quickly for the others to respond. Jin stared at her intently from two wide, bloodshot eyes.
“Putting on that badge, that costume, that mask, won’t save you from yourself, you know. You can hide from the dark all you want, but you can’t cast it out. It’s already inside you.”
Mei jerked her arm away and backed up towards her companions. Jin’s affable smile was gone now, replaced by a predatory leer.
“Come back anytime,” he said. “All are invited.”
It sounded less like an invitation than a threat.
Chapter Eleven
“Oh God, am I dying? Is this dying? I think I’m dying. Why can’t I see anything?”
“Open your eyes.”
“They’re open, I just can’t see anything. I think—”
“They’re not open. Open your eyes.”
“Oh man oh man oh man oh shit oh fuck oh—”
“If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead!” Tengu shouted.
The man still wouldn’t take the hint. Instead, he began struggling against the ropes that tied him to the chair, causing the whole chair to rock. Tengu sighed.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you! Your position is … precarious, let’s say.”
The man finally opened his eyes, then gasped at what he saw. He was in a warehouse, perched near the edge of a gaping hole in the floor that fell away into darkness below. Luckily for people like Tengu, the disintegrating man-made islands out in Tokyo Bay were full of such places. For the people on his shitlist, however, it wasn’t so lucky.
“Ohhh, fuuuuuck …” The man began to sob.
“Yeah. So here’s how this works. For every answer I get that I like, we move you away from the hole by one inch. For every answer I don’t like, you go an inch closer to hell.”
The man strained against his restraints to see behind him as best he could. He could just barely make out Tengu’s form backlit by the bright factory lighting. He was with two of his soldiers.
“What’s … what’s down there?”
“Hmm, you know, I don’t know. Did we ever figure out what’s down there?” he asked his assistants in a tone of genuine curiosity.
“Well, there’s the three guys we sent down last night.”
The man at the precipice began sniffling and fighting back a sob.
“Right, but I mean underneath them. What’s the bottom?”
“Sounded like water.”
“Yeah, but it seemed to be farther down than you’d expect,” said another man.
“Definitely,” the first soldier said. “They were falling for longer than I would have thought.”
“Huh, how about that?” Tengu said. “I had no idea these islands were so high up. Learn something new every day, right? Or at least, I had better learn something new!”
“Please!” the man sobbed. “I’ll tell you anything you want to hear! Just don’t … just don’t …”
Tengu smiled. It was almost too easy sometimes.
The next day, Tengu and his men were at it with the same trick, but a different guy. One who didn’t scare so easily.
“Alright, Asai, let’s try this again.”
“Fuck you!”
Tengu sighed, then nudged the chair closer to the edge with his foot. “See, I’m not saying you’re the killer per se. But—let’s be honest here—you’ve done this sort of thing before.”
“Fuck you!”
Tengu shook his head and nudged the chair again. “As much as I enjoy our mental sparring like this, I’m going to need to get some answers from you here. You’re already dangerously close to the edge.”
“I ain’t fucking talking to you, or that cunt Vasili!”
“See, that’s the other
thing that made me think of you. Because you used to do some freelancing for The Rock, before you two had your falling out. Left on rather bad terms, as I recall. So I’m thinking, here’s this guy going around killing people, the way you like to, and targeting Vasili and those close to him. So that’s why I wanted us to have this little chat here. Set the record straight, you know? Give you a chance to plead your case.”
“I don’t know shit. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you nothing!”
Tengu nodded to one of his soldiers, who affixed something to the chair. He nodded at Tengu when he was done.
“So you’re just going to leave me hanging?” Tengu asked.
“Fuck you!”
“Kinda hoping you’d say that at this point.” With that, Tengu gave the back of the man’s chair a hard shove with his boot, sending it plunging into the darkness below. The cord that his man, Fujita, had attached to it snapped taut once Asai had fallen about ten feet. Tengu peered down to see him hanging upside down from the chair he was tied to. It rocked back and forth against the compacted wall of dirt that formed part of the schism.
“Fuck you, Tengu!”
“Okay, just having some fun. Fujita, Hori, haul him up.”
His men joined him on the ledge over the pit and peered down.
“But, boss, it’s three in the morning,” Fujita announced in a loud voice. “We’ve been at it for nine hours straight. It’s quittin’ time.”
“Yeah, union rules,” Hori chimed in.
“But we’re right in the middle of something!” Tengu said with a smile.
“Rules are rules, boss,” Hori said.
“Damn these new union regulations!” Tengu shouted down into the pit. “Well, we’ll pick up here first thing in the morning, then.”
“No, fuck you! You don’t just leave me down here!” Asai shouted. The rope holding him up began vibrating as he struggled in his chair.
“Rules say we get at least twelve hours between shifts.”
“Fine! Afternoon, then!” Tengu said.
“You son of a whore!”
Asai wailed and cursed as the footfalls on the concrete above retreated. Then the lights went out. He was left dangling there in the dark.
Tokyo Noir: The Complete First Season Page 40