CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was a typical warehouse inside, he saw when his eyes adjusted to the dimness. One huge open area partially filled with crates and boxes that could potentially hold anything at all, punctuated by enclosed rooms that might be offices, bathrooms, or just about anything.
Harada had learned long ago not to trust signs or labels. One of the Shinsengumi’s earliest smuggling cases had led him to suspect a shipment labeled ‘PRODUCE’ of containing expensive armaments. The absolute refusal on the part of the owners and operators of the property to cooperate with them in any way confirmed his suspicion.
The fact that they even went so far as to mobilize against the police, rather than allow them to look into any of the cartons, almost convicted them sight unseen of something extremely illegal. There had been a brief, bloody battle with losses on both sides, so whatever the outcome, they became criminals guilty of bloodshed that day.
When Harada cracked open the shipping container, however, he found neither produce nor armaments, but human remains preserved in jars, intended for sale on the black markets. Several of his men lost their lunch; he had lost his reason. It was another moment of blind Fury for him, which ended with the criminals lying in pieces on the warehouse floor.
That was the difference between Thalia’s Fury and his, he thought as he negotiated the catwalk nearest him that would lead toward the center, where light shone. When his fury took him, it was without warning and there was no room for reason. When hers came on her, he had seen her still capable of reason and self-control, directing the vast power of her wrath with precision, rather than letting it sweep unchecked through a swath of landscape as he did.
Had she or Chief Kato overheard this, they would have pointed out the injustice of his comparison. Even in the worst of his rages, he had never yet destroyed an innocent life – at least not in this lifetime. He did not stop to hold a conversation, but that did not preclude the quicksilver, razor-sharp distinctions he made between guilty and not. Thalia would have said it was only their methods that differed, not the results.
There was a series of pipes and catwalks attached to the rafters and the inside of the roof, with a false ceiling put up over scattered small areas – no doubt to beautify private offices and the like. He was directly above a patch of false ceiling he imagined might cover a break room for workers, or a main office.
The light originated in an area over which there was nothing to provide him with cover; however, the shadows were deep and reached long black fingers down the walls, leaving the ceiling quite dark.
He made his way toward the light, hearing the murmured echoes of voices more distinctly as he drew closer.
His suspicions were validated when he looked down upon the group of nine people gathered beneath the lamp. The nondescript cloak lay draped over the figure’s arm now, his features were distinguishable, and there was no doubting the identity of the figure he had followed: Sekiguchi Teiji, leader of Hellfire Rising. He was of average height and slim build, disguising his incredible prowess as a samurai war hero gone rogue, his most distinguishing mark his missing left eye.
Two of his lieutenants were also in evidence: Furutani Aimi, nicknamed ‘Deadly Serpent’ for her skill with ancient poison darts, and Wataru Aoi, a samurai who was nearly blind, but had honed his hearing to preternatural precision. It was said he could hear people’s soul songs in the same way others claimed to see their auras. He had stood his ground against Kirito in battle once, which was enough to prove him a formidable opponent in Harada's book.
Harada recognized the other six present also, but the leaders of Hellfire Rising were among the most wanted criminals in Edo.
“We can no longer use #442 as we did formerly, since the Shinsengumi are staking it out,” an arms dealers was explaining when he got near enough to hear them clearly.
That’s what comes of letting people take a stakeout in shifts, Harada thought irritably. Someone was sloppy, and eventually people noticed and talked about it. He would have to be stricter in the future.
“Good news about that is, if we deal our cards right, we can manipulate an all-out war with the Shinsengumi,” another dealer said, this one a wealthy owner of brothels and pachinko parlors throughout the underground Yoshiwara district. “Bring our ship into port full of armed assassins and take them all out in one sweep. Better yet, we could save money, disperse some of the new nerve gas Matsu’s people are selling, give our people masks, and let them go all-out in a massacre of the Peasant Police. Rid us all of a persistent thorn in our flesh – the Mimawarigumi are much friendlier to businesses like ours.”
This was chilling, despite the fact that Harada was accustomed to the hatred, fear, and plotting against the Shinsengumi that was a constant since their arrival in Edo. It was also a little frightening how accurate his intuition had been.
“While we’re speaking of the Bakufu’s dogs, Tigress tells me the Shinsengumi has somehow acquired a jewel,” Sekiguchi said. Harada instantly tensed, knowing at once that he was about to introduce Thalia to the conversation. “A red-haired beauty from parts unknown, whom other sources tell me has begun to earn the epithet ‘Demoness’.”
“Then their Demon Vice-Commander has a match,” said Furutani Aimi, arching a sardonic eyebrow.
Harada indulged in a wry, painful smile at how close to and yet how far from the truth that was.
“That does seem indicated,” Sekiguchi said. “However, it doesn’t interest me. What does is her capacity for destruction. She can read minds, by some reports, and force a person to live his worst nightmares for an indefinite length of time, should she choose to do so. She can fight as well as any of the Shinsengumi, possibly excepting the chief officers. She’s ruthless; a month ago she stepped on Tigress’s wrist and deliberately crushed each bone.” Sekiguchi smiled fondly over this. “It’s said she’s from an unknown alien species that drinks blood and eats flesh; looks human, but transforms into a monster when provoked, or when she smells blood. One source suggests she can become anything she chooses; wind, water, earth, air, animal, or plant.”
Harada was disgusted; this was exactly the scenario he had wanted to avoid by keeping Thalia’s nature as secret as possible. He cursed silently, wondering how so much information had gotten leaked to Sekiguchi, one of their most formidable enemies. Much of it was inaccurate, of course, embellished with typical exaggerations and misinformation, which in this case ended up making Thalia sound like an utterly inhuman monster.
He wondered about a traitor inside the Shinsengumi; there was precedent for that, after all, and that traitor had also been connected with Sekiguchi through Wataru.
Harada had stressed the importance of keeping Thalia’s documents absolutely confidential, but Kato was notorious for being too trusting of his own people. He had probably stuffed the folder in a drawer in his office with no more security than a simple lock, and promptly forgotten about it.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“What’s your point, Sekiguchi-sama?” the arms dealer wanted to know.
“By all means, let us plan to massacre the Shinsengumi. But I want their jewel first,” he said, his voice and eye revealing the depth of his insane bloodlust for just a moment. “She’s a classic of Western mythology, a Fury from ancient times. There is nothing I couldn’t destroy with her at my side.”
Harada was now convinced someone had leaked a copy of Thalia’s folder, either directly to Hellfire Rising or to some third party. That meant a traitor within the ranks of the Shinsengumi was all but certain. His heart sank.
“How could you possibly expect her to help our cause?” Aimi demanded. “She’s loyal to the Shinsengumi; why should she help us?”
“You clearly don’t know the myths of the Furies,” Sekiguchi replied. “The only thing I need to do is find the trigger for her rage and push it in the direction I need it to go.”
This made the hair on the back of Tetsuya’s neck stand on end, because it was true. He was struck by fear of what could happen should Sekiguchi’s plan succeed, and simultaneously by a sudden rush of intuition that he should not be here, but it was too late. Grim-faced, he turned to go back the way he had come.
Sekiguchi’s phone rang; he looked at it, answered it, and sounded very interested in what was said to him. It was not long before he hung up, although some of the others began to look impatient.
“It seems,” he said, deliberately raising his voice, “our informant does not get paid well enough. I have just been told that I was almost certainly followed here, by none other than the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi himself.”
There were gasps of disbelief, confusion, and fear. Harada continued silently back toward the hatch in the roof. They began to shine lights up at the ceiling, but none were directed near him. Yet.
He calculated his greatest risk to begin when he opened the hatch; it would silhouette him against the light, and either Furutani or one of the armed guards would almost certainly shoot him down before he climbed all the way out. Still, there was no way around it; that was his one exit.
As it turned out, the hatch opened just a few steps before he reached it; a dark shape appeared and shone a light directly on him.
“Shoot him!” shouted the silhouette. Harada recognized the voice; it was one of the new recruits, the young cousin of someone Kato knew and owed a favor to. Harada had objected to accepting this one, and he took grim delight in being justified, even at this moment.
“Tch,” Harada said irritably. “I’ve always warned Kato he takes kindness too far. You’re proof of it,” he said to the traitor, then lunged with his katana and stabbed him through the heart.
The traitor’s body fell lax onto the catwalk, blocking the way out. The Vice-Commander leaped for the hatch, grasped its lip, and felt a bullet penetrate his thigh. He refused to come this close and fail; he pulled himself up and out of the hatch, gritted his teeth against the pain, and looked around for options even as he began to limp as fast as possible away from the hatch.
He got out his cell phone and called Thalia without a second thought.
“Vice-Commander?” she answered on the second ring, sounding cautious.
“Thalia, Hellfire Rising knows what you are. Sekiguchi is after you. You must get away at all costs.” He knew as he spoke that his leg was useless; it would not bear his weight for long enough to take a real step. He was leaving a blood trail, so hiding was also not an option.
“Where are you? What’s happening?” she asked anxiously; she could hear the strain in his voice.
“For once in your many lifetimes, listen to me,” he said, teeth still clenched. “You need to go. Go back to your other world if you can, because this man will destroy you, after he uses you to destroy everyone and everything else.”
“You’re quite mistaken. I will destroy him if he touches you. End of story,” she said, her voice icy cold, though he could hear her fear for him underneath. “Tetsu, you must tell me where you are,” she said, pleading.
“No, I must not tell you where I am,” he said tenderly. “Not if I love you, and I do. So much; but not enough.” He had not been planning to allow himself this luxury of confessing a love that could not even conquer his own selfishness, but things had changed quickly. He would almost certainly die here, and could not bear to let her believe he had not loved her to desperate distraction.
With that, he hung up and called Commander Kato. By now he could hear them approaching. He got Kato’s annoyingly cheerful voicemail and hung up cursing. He dialed Seizo’s number, who thankfully answered right away.
“Seizo, I’m on the roof of warehouse 1798 on the corner of K-Street and … some alley with no name. Hellfire Rising are here, they know 442 is staked out; an ambush is being planned against the Shinsengumi. Don’t fall for it. We’ve been betrayed by that new recruit Kato insisted on accepting, who leaked Thalia’s information to Sekiguchi. Promise me you will protect Thalia,” he said, the last sentence receiving most emphasis.
“I will protect Thalia, Harada-san, and we will also protect you. Try to hang on. The K-Street at the docks, right?” Seizo said.
Harada laughed tersely. “Even you get soft in the end, eh, Seizo? Yes, at the docks. I don’t believe I'll still be here when you arrive, but you should check for illegal arms and other contraband. They’ve almost found me now. Sekiguchi is after Thalia, Seizo – don’t let him get anywhere near her.”
He saw them coming and stood on his good leg, his bad one used for balance. He threw his phone as hard as he could off the building; they would not use it against his friends and the Shinsengumi. He waited then, katana gleaming, determined to take as many with him as possible.
There were at least thirty of them, although he had only seen nine at the meeting. The others must have been gathered in one of the rooms.
One of them rushed him, not knowing or perhaps not believing his reputation, and was beheaded with one slash. Two more came from different directions at once, and fared no better.
“Send someone who knows how to use a sword, not a clumsy butcher,” he taunted, grinning at the uncertainty of the ronin around him who could not hope to match him, even wounded. He fully intended to die in battle, as he was meant to. He could not complain much about his life, considering what he was; he had known, however briefly, sheer joy and ecstasy in his love for Thalia, expressed so unexpectedly on the beach. He had lived as honorably as he could and retained loyalty to those most important to him.
At last, someone halfway competent came in close while he was otherwise occupied, slashing him across the left shoulder. He returned the blow, stabbing his opponent under the left arm and through the heart. Five jumped him at once then, and that kept him busy for several moments; by the time he had finished them all, he saw Furutani Aimi approaching with a blow-dart.
She took aim, and he stood and looked her defiantly in the eye until she blew; he did not have a moment to duck, even had his leg allowed it. Immediately his throat was punctured and began to bleed. It was a matter of seconds before darkness came, and only as it was closing in did the horrible suspicion come to him that this was not death, after all, but something far worse: capture.
* * *
Slowly, Harada Tetsuya became aware of darkness again. He did not know where he was, and did not much care, fading in and out of half-conscious awareness. At last he had a lucid moment and realized he could not see. When he tried to lift a hand to his eyes, he found he could not move either.
This brought him near panic, since his worst nightmare had always been lucid unconsciousness; he had read about comatose patients being aware mentally but physiologically vegetative. Nothing in any hell could be more fiendishly contrived than that, he believed. Being able to feel and think, but not to move, speak, or see; it was unbearable even to contemplate.
It was when he confirmed to himself he could not speak that he realized his true situation: he was bound, not paralyzed; blindfolded, not blind; and gagged, not mute. Pain returned in slow waves to his leg and shoulder wounds, confirming that his nervous system remained intact.
Surprisingly, this made him feel much better; he knew how to fight attacks from outside himself, but it was impossible to fight one that came from within. So long as he was hampered merely by outside forces, struggle was possible.
He waited until his senses were as much restored to him as he could expect, then began evaluating his predicament. His arms were pulled behind him and tied at the elbows and wrists; his legs were likewise bound at the knees and ankles. There was no perceptible give in any of the knots, though it was difficult to test thoroughly with a wound in one shoulder and another in one thigh.
He could neither see nor speak, but he could hear, smell, and feel; there was a rhythmic creak that had its counterpoint in a rocking motion. The briny smell of the sea was much in evidence, and distantly he heard seagulls calling. The air was cold and damp; he was lying on a rough burlap-type fabric which thinly covered a hard surface; probably wood, since it was obvious he was onboard a ship.
It logically followed that Sekiguchi had taken him prisoner. It was the ‘why’ in the equation that still would not add up; Hellfire Rising never took prisoners without a strong political and/or monetary reason. In his case, he could dismiss money as a motive immediately, which only left politics. That would have to mean Sekiguchi was targeting the Shinsengumi once again, despite the fact that his last infiltration had ended with humiliating failure.
This did not make sense to him either, however; if they wanted him out of the way strategically as the brain of the Shinsengumi, why keep him alive? They must hope to gain something, and he did not see what it could be. Even Kato did not wield enough power to sway the Shogun, so blackmail would not work even if Kato were susceptible; and fond as he knew Kato was of him, such a scenario would never play out very far. Kato knew he would rather die than be used as a pawn, and would honor that – no matter how much it hurt. He simply was not worth anything as a hostage, so none of this made sense.