Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“I’m slowing down in my old age. How long have you been standing there?”

“Right after you flew through the window and up to the roof,” Setsura said in his always carefree manner.

“And how did you get in?”

“The same back window.”

“You were hoping we mutually self-destructed?”

“Works for me.” Setsura nodded like a kid hanging out on a street corner with nothing to do. Yakou’s killer qi wavered just a bit.

“You came here for Kanan-san? I assume you’ve accomplished that much.”

“Sure.”

“What happened to Princess?”

“She was playing Marco Polo in a pool when she up and vanished. The outside world, I imagine.”

“Kikiou and Mephisto too?”

“Kikiou threw me in the incinerator and took off. He must be doing repairs. I don’t know where Mephisto is.”

Yakou threw a swaggering laugh back at the languid face. “That means we can finally get down to business without any outside interference.”

“I guess so.”

Yakou slowly rose to his full height. His wings ruffled, unleashing a gust of wind bearing the intensity of his malice.

The two young men faced each other ten feet apart. The one overflowing with murderous intent, the other as calm as a summer morning. However, the battle would not be resolved by either with such an air.

“Princess says you are not to be killed. But as long as you are around, Princess will surely suffer. You are the one who will.”

Setsura said with a sigh, “Give it a break already.”

“What?”

“First it’s Princess. Then it’s Mephisto. Ryuuki or Kikiou tomorrow? You don’t listen to anybody! A little self-control wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

“Shut up.”

“Naw, I don’t think so.”

“One more word and—”

“—you’ll tell Princess—”

A split second before the wall behind him collapsed, Setsura jumped into the air.

—on me?”

High in the sky, the black slicker abruptly shifted directions and dropped down behind Yakou, who’d unleashed the same qi cannon that perforated pretend Mephisto, and was pivoting just as Setsura buried his heel in the back of his head.

He stumbled forward. Breaking his fall with a one-handed push-up, he shot off another burst of qi without turning around—a feat only the Elder’s grandson could pull off.

He fired purely on instinct. Still in midair, Setsura’s stomach disappeared with an audible pop. The forest behind him became momentarily visible.

Yakou blinked. No sooner had he shot his qi cannon but Setsura’s body seemed to waver and grow indistinct. The beautiful black silhouette stood there as if lost in thought. A puzzled expression rose to his face. He slowly fell over like a toppled tree.

“Shit. That hurt.” Rubbing the back of his head, Yakou sprang to his feet. He could definitely feel a lump. “You sure don’t pull your punches,” he complained, though the triumphalism was clear in his voice. He walked over to Setsura with uncertain steps. “Bit of an anticlimax, that. I almost don’t want to put an end to it.”

“Then don’t.”

Yakou thrust out his arms in response to the unexpected reply. His arms jerked back as Setsura’s left hand plunged into his mouth.

Yakou gagged and coughed. What started out as a hand turned into a fluid inside his mouth and poured into his windpipe and lungs.

“Son of a bitch!” he tried to shout, but he swallowed Setsura’s whole hand into his lungs. Yakou’s consciousness rapidly dimmed. In the middle of a sun-drenched field, the vampire prince in the dark suit was drowning.

Nevertheless, no doubt thanks to the true power of that pedigree, he mustered his strength and pushed his arms against Setsura’s stomach.

Setsura’s torso tore in two, blowing backwards, taking clothing and flesh and torn threads with it. Then it erupted, like drops of water returning to the puddle they’d splashed from.

“I’m half water right now,” the wavering face said in an utterly blasé manner.

Considering what had just happened, it was a hell of a thing to say. The pretend Mephisto’s “treatments,” diluted, caused no lasting harm. It was easier to allow himself to get laid out flat and return to rescue Takako than stand his ground and duke it out.

He’d heard Kikiou’s instruction to leave her there. That he chose to remain silent, offering no resistance while being tossed into the incinerator was a lot harder to comprehend. The reason being that he was curious to see what happened would startle not only Kikiou, but Princess as well.

“Vampires can definitely drown in water. That won’t kill them, but it will knock them out. When you come to, be a good boy and forget all about that bad-tempered lady.”

Yakou heard none of this as the energy drained out of him. Unable to support himself with his free hand, Setsura planted his right hand against Yakou’s stomach. Normal solidity immediately returned to his face and body.

Despite returning to a “normal” state, he couldn’t, in a flash, avoid the situation that followed perhaps because he was still half water.

A grimace crossed his face. He whirled around. Yakou collapsed. Enormous claws dug into his back, the claws of a giant eagle made out of wire.

Setsura staggered. In front of him appeared a white wax-like face. A hand reached up from the grass. Even without seeing the wires clenched between his fingers, the actions of the pretend Mephisto could be easily deciphered.

“Born into this world—for a mere two hours—” The pale lips breathed in the air of the River Styx. “But—I regret—nothing—if I can die—with you. Let us go Setsura. Together. To that—other world. As a present—that man too—”

The trembling hands formed the wires into a stake.

“Knock it off,” Setsura said, and threw his head backward. The bird on his back thumped its beak at the back of his skull.

Exercising his will alone, Setsura forced his more human attributes to take precedence over his liquid state. A moment later, invisible wires cut the bird into pieces. At the same time, the stake flew from pretend Mephisto’s hand. The white doctor’s head exploded.

Blood and brains scattered in a mist, falling in a red rain on the prone Setsura. He shouldered the pain and tried to turn back into liquid form, but the shock from the bird’s attack upset the control of his facilities, and he remained as he was.

Instead, somebody pressed a hand against the back of his head. “That was one of Kikiou’s inventions,” Yakou said, choking on his indignation as much as the water in his lungs. “Disobey him and die. The kind of thing he would do. Thanks to him, the situation has now reversed itself. In memory of the make-believe Mephisto, I shall now send you to the same place. Goodbye and farewell.”

Brilliant lines ran toward Yakou’s body, but every one of them was repelled by his unbelievable power.

“Can you turn back into water, Setsura?”

“Well—”

A moment later—

“Did it!”

Tonbeau’s “voice” pressed against the chaos and confusion. The desired end had been achieved.

“The lid is open. Something came out!”

“Close it!” said the doll girl.

“Not yet!”

“If the dimensions superimpose themselves any more, the distortions will reach into this time and space. We may truly evaporate into nothingness.”

“Hmm,” grumbled Tonbeau, but quickly made up her mind. “Can’t have that. Close it!”

“Yes!”

Tonbeau glanced at the doll girl, situated next to the generator. The room was perfectly normal. The box sat undisturbed on the table. The lid was closed. The only difference were the two bodies lying on the ground next to the table.

The startled doll girl stared. “Setsura-san!” She ran over to him. “Setsura-san! And Yakou-san too!”

“Move it.”

Tonbeau shoved the doll girl out of the way, took the pulses of Setsura and Yakou, and peered down at them. “They both seem alive. Aki is badly injured. We’d better treat him pronto.”

The two picked the men up and laid them down in two beds. Going over to the shelves of medicines, Tonbeau looked around. “The lid opened and these two popped out. There should be a lot more where they came from. The Akashic Records must make its own choices.”

“Perhaps there is somebody in charge, somebody keeping the records,” said the doll girl, gazing down at Setsura’s face. “And they chose these two. This must be for the good of the universe, as it watches and remembers.”

“Huh. Nothing but speculation.”

Tonbeau returned holding a green bottle. The viscous liquid scooped up by her caterpillar-like fingers was the same color as the glass. She daubed it on Setsura’s wounds. Then she stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something’s wrong. This young man isn’t normal.”

“Eh?”

“The feel of his skin is strange. It’s water. Go ahead, see for yourself.”

Looking a bit abashed, she touched Setsura’s cheek. She turned to Tonbeau. “You are correct. He has all the symptoms of an aquaman.”

“Exactly. The man is half water.”

No less impressive were the witch and the doll girl, who could discern such a thing from a single touch. Tonbeau laid a hand on Yakou.

“This one’s all right. But he is under some sort of strange spell.”

Again, she had diagnosed him in the snap of a finger.

“What kind of spell?”

“He has been deprived of his will at a very high level.”

“How could Setsura have ended up in such a state?”

“Probably this chap here.”

A fierce rage rose to the doll girl’s eyes, and then faded away. “Shall we heal them both?”

“Yeah, but it’ll take some time.” Tonbeau nodded, then smiled.

“Ah, that face.”

“What? Don’t look at me like that. Healing people around here is a fee-for-service business, isn’t it?”

“Yes, when it comes to normal doctoring.”

“And you’re saying I’m different.”

“Well—”

“C’mon, spit it out.”

“Well—”

“What?”

“Compared to the average doctor, Tonbeau-sama has something of a perverse bedside manner.”

“What of it?”

“You don’t intend to charge Setsura-sama for healing him, do you?”

Caught in the gaze of her clear eyes, Tonbeau cringed a bit and retreated. There was something so human about that look. “Who do you think I was thinking of?”

“You were thinking of the mayor, perhaps?”

“Hmm.”

“You cannot be serious. In the first place, the mayor would have no reason to.”

“That doesn’t follow,” Tonbeau said, raising a sudden objection. “The mayor brought that box to us, and would obviously be expected to take responsibility for whatever came out of it. Moreover, young master Setsura here is working on behalf of the city. It would only make sense for the mayor to also take responsibility for any injuries that might befall him. Wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?”

Tonbeau pushed out her chest, intending to intimidate the doll girl with her ample bust and belly.

However soft her voice, she was not cowed in the least. “You should not take the mayor for granted. He is considered one of the most able mayors since the founding of Demon City for good reason.”

“We’ll know soon enough. Time to swing into action.” She plucked at both their cheeks for some reason or another. A moment later, the fat lady’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that?” she exclaimed.

The doll girl looked on impassively. The Czech Republic’s second greatest witch—and she clearly deserved the honor—must have detected something her supernatural senses couldn’t.

“I’m going upstairs,” Tonbeau said, heading for the door.

“Um—”

“You stay here and watch over them.”

“Tonbeau-sama,” said the doll girl, no differently than before, but with an extra degree of resolve in her voice. “A fearsome enemy, perhaps?”

“Perhaps. Interesting. I’m not so nice a person as my big sister, you see. Hold on, and I’ll soon enough turn ’em to dust.”

“I’m coming too.”

“What are you saying? You doubt my powers?”

“No, human nature.”

Tonbeau glared at her. The doll girl said without reserve, in her quiet manner, “You wouldn’t be planning on running away?”

“Nonsense! I’m just looking for a good hiding place.”

“I’ll come with,” the doll girl said with a sigh—or what would pass for a sigh in her case. “This is the house of your big sister, Galeen Nuvenberg. No matter who he might be, no one may set foot in it without being invited. Tonbeau-sama may hide herself in whatever place suits her. Leave the rest to me.”

The fat lady shifted back and forth. “Really?” she said.

“Yes.”

“Then I will stay here and treat these two.”

“Here is to your health.”

“Annoying brat. Shoo. Be on your way.”

“If you would excuse me,” the doll girl said with a little curtsey, and turned to the door without the slightest sign of concern.

After passing down the hallway—a wonder that Tonbeau could even fit between its narrow walls—and scaling a flight of stone stairs and turning down another corridor, she emerged into the living room.

The light slanting through the windows was at last strong enough to be called sunlight. After taking a single breath with her small lungs, woven from the finest down, and letting it out, the doll girl patted the dust off her dress.

And paused. The door was right in front of her.