Oshiroi, Part I
MORIKO HANZO POV:
Stepping into Kana's bedroom, seeing it for the first time...
Doesn't help my growing jealousy any.
She has a double-wide sleigh bed, with one of those high-tech foam mattresses. Nice, smooth, markless dressers...
And, oh yeah—there's a freaking huge-ass walk-in closet!
She takes me inside of it, and there are all these rows of clothes hangers with jackets, button-down shirts, blouses and dresses, skirts, swimsuits, all neatly separated into their own sections. She's combing through them like a librarian...crossing her lip with one finger like I've seen her do before, with this look of intense focus.
Every now and then she steals a quick glance at me, her eyes squinting into narrow slits, mumbling something under her breath.
"No, no, too colorful..." "Too short..." "Not stylish enough..."
She's picking out a few, draping them across her arm in a steadily growing heap.
Eventually, I have to ask, "how the HELL are you able to afford all this?"
She smiles. "It's not all paid for by my salary, if that's what you're questioning."
Then she holds a floral-patterned dress up against me, tilting her head both ways in consideration.
"Oh, no..." I glare at her. "I am not wearing your old vacation dress."
She clicks her tongue. "Ah...so picky. Like a child—"her voice cracks. Then I watch her begin to act strange after she puts the dress away, placing it carefully back unto the rung...how she sort of...freezes in place; frowning, with her one hand still grasping on to the clothes rung, the other clutching her forehead. Like something just randomly shut off in her brain. "Sorry, I..."
"What is it?" I close in. There's obviously something bothering her.
"Hanzo..." She sighs. "I hope you don't think I'm only being nice...to get you to talk."
I shake my head, vigorously. "N-no, I don't think that at all!" Then I shrug, unable to help myself: "Well...not ENTIRELY." In response she sighs loudly, looking away, but I quickly move in front of her. Continuing, "I'm really extremely grateful, though! If not for you, I probably would've slept on a parkbench last night." Pushing past my growing nervousness, I touched her hand. "You're really going above and beyond, by doing all this...and don't you dare think for a second that I don't see that."
For all my praise and thanks, I'm just relieved to be rewarded with a slight smile. Yet even so...I could sense there was still a great sadness in her eyes, the likes of which mere words wouldn't be enough to dispel.
"Genuine compassion...is such a rare thing, nowadays."
...
It would be no exaggeration to say I lost everything short of my life in that explosion.
Not just my apartment and my clothes, but also my money and my phone, with all the old goofy, lovable, frustrating, sweet messages from Hiro...
Then, of course...there is the small matter of all the weapons that were either destroyed or confiscated by police. The very expensive and hard-to-acquire tools of my trade, molded with a very specific 8% silver content: specifically intended for use against Inugami. Unlike with regular weapons, the silver counteracts our kind's natural regenerative abilities...meaning the wounds they inflict will heal at roughly the same rate as an ordinary human, as opposed to near-instantaneously.
Without my usual arsenal, I would have to resort to much cruder, messier methods to kill an Inu; and I'm talking stuff on the level of beheadings, burnings, ripping their still-beating heart out of their chest...
So, yeaaah...
Not exactly a fun prospect.
Hopefully I won't ever have to resort to that.
Even more hopefully...I won't ever have to kill again, period. Like, I could use this as an opportunity...to start over; to try to live some semblance of an ordinary life. And junk.
Heh...yeah right.
I should be locked up, or worse, for all the shit that I've done.
Takeda can't be blamed for everything; when all's said and done, it was by my hand that so many lives were stolen.
He always used to refer to it as..."culling;" by continually exterminating the weak and untrustworthy links among the five and their vassals, it could prevent future disaster. And while there's no telling whether this philosophy had any actual merit to it, I don't suppose a dynasty can remain in such a state of power as the five for so many centuries without some clever scheming on the part of its members.
After I'm done playing dress-up with Officer Kana...I felt like going for a walk. Just to clear my head.
I'm properly dressed for the weather: wearing a grey hooded sweater, ski pants, and a knit wool beanie; feeling like a total badass with these Hello Kitty mittens. Kana had also given me money, before I left: enough for me to get around, and keep fed for a few days. Maybe stay at a hotel if I decide not to go back.
I think I will, though. Otherwise, I'm sure she'll worry...and try to come looking for me.
And, if I'm being honest...I'm pretty useless on my own. So, if I'm really thinking about turning over a new leaf, I should make the most of the help she's offering me.
Even if that puts me at risk of her uncovering my...let's say, sordid past.
And on that note, come to think of it...
Kana never did get to telling me how a police officer could afford so much fancy stuff!
So as I waited on the next train to come in, I passed the time speculating on possible explanations...ranging from her having recently received a sizable family inheritance, to her secretly being a crooked cop: one who plays Nintendo games in her spare time, feeding pepperoni to her cats, and covers the back window of her squad car in Hello Kitty stickers! All meant to serve as an elaborate front, obviously...
It's an Inu thing, probably...but I can feel my face blushing a little just thinking about her scent. That sweet strawberry of her neat brown hair, with little golden streaks combing through it...
Gah! I can't help it...
She's so cute, I could just EAT HER UP!
It's not like I'm catching feelings! I'm in a vulnerable position, right now, is all it is…and she's doing a great job of playing mommy.
Though I've never had a very good sense about this kind of thing, anyway...
I'm far from being a "social butterfly," largely because of the "unusual" life I've led: Most kids probably aren't beaten with bamboo sticks for making a sloppy kendo swing, just as most people probably aren't hitmen in the employ of sadistic demon blood cursed CEOs. And I uhh…probably curse way too fucking much.
However, I'm perfectly content with living on my own...if only because it makes things less complicated.
But Hiro…is the one exception.
We've known each other since we were kids. So the way I see it, he's the only person in this world that's fully known me since both before and after I became what I am now.
And for that, no one can ever fill his place in my heart. Not even close.
But anyway, before I get too choked up thinking about it...
It sure is great that I must've just missed the morning rush hour, so that I can actually hear my own damn thoughts! The subway platform is mostly empty, with just a few odd people spread around: mostly freeters, if I were to judge by their slightly more colorful appearances, but also a pair of housewives laughing away at pics or whatever on their phones. Not a single goddamn business suit or briefcase, nor gloved door-pusher in sight.
The peace doesn't last for long, however. Almost like a dark cloud moving in, first starting in my periphery...
My Inu senses, materializing as a non-subtle pinprick on the back of my neck, alert me to a new group entering the scene.
So I look, towards the stairs, as they're coming down...
A troupe of Kabuki theater actors!
All dressed in full costume and makeup, I count five of them in total; each with their own unique persona: a grinning Hermit wearing rags and a sunhat, a crying Ghost with long, flowing dark hair; a hulking, snarling red Oni; a sternfaced Noble garbed in a stately montsuki; a laughing Clown in a bandana, decked from head to toe in bright patchwork colors.
Warning signals are going off my head. Not Inu senses: just basic pattern recognition, and a healthy skepticism for people walking around in public wearing creepy get-ups.
And, I don't think it's a mere coincidence—like HELL there isn't something fishy going on!
So obviously, I'm wary...watching them intently, the whole time, as they quietly find a place to stand on the edge of the platform.
"What are you doing?" I storm up to their shady group, demanding.
At once, the assorted cast all turned to face me: saying nothing, providing no indication of the real personalities that lay underneath their masks…
"You're planning something. It's me you want—isn't it? So let's take it somewhere else."
They glance between themselves, whispering something.
"What was that? Hey, jackass—" I grab one by the shoulder, yanking him toward me.
"Wanna repeat that? I couldn't hear you!"
"You're crazy, bitch!" He yells back.
"Am I crazy? Or are you the man wearing a dress that's hiding something?"
I don't care if I create a scene. There's too much at stake here, if my totally reasonable hunch is correct. So without a breath of hesitation, I tear open the white robe of the Ghost actor, who is standing closest to me—the one that had just freaking called me a bitch—to expose...
A bare chest. No bomb. Nothing.
"This is bullshit!" I grab the next guy, the hermit, and tear open his outfit to check—
But again, nothing.
I was...beginning to have my doubts.
The brightly-colored Clown actor laughed at me. "If you wanted to see some skin, you could've just asked!"
The Noble actor added softly, "whatever you're looking for...it appears we do not have it."
At this point, I'm looking around and notice that some onlookers were recording the whole incident on their phones. Which means that, before long, my stupid badass face is gonna be all over LINE and Twitter! I reach for another one of the theatre actors, but they all crowd around to push me away. Some asshole wearing oranhe blueblocker shades (does he think he looks cool?) comes behind me, tugging on my sweater sleeve—
"Get your hands OFF me, you shitty punk!" I pull away from him, losing the sweater in the process.
Shit...this isn't going well. The small crowd of onlookers is turning against me.
The housewives I noticed before are pointing their phones at me, obviously recording the entire scene...soon to plaster my face all over LINE and Twitter!
I freeze, not knowing what to think anymore—like, maybe I really am just paranoid!
Or, maybe...
I still need to check the other two theater actors, before it's too late.
However, as my luck would have it: right as I'm thinking that, I hear the tracks start to rumble...
The next train is pulling in to the station—a few minutes early.
Okay, I tell myself. Don't freak out; there's still time. I'll just be sure to give Kanako's maneki-neko bobblehead an extra rub when I get back.
And although I may not have found a bomb, I did still manage to gain some valuable intel...
On top of the fact that I knew one of those theater actors...the Oni...
When I got close, just now...
I could smell his cursed Inugami blood.