CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Almost as soon as Harada disembarked the Hellfire Rising ship with Thalia in his arms, Okada and Saya transferred Aoi to the small brig on board the Navy ship. The process was uneventful; he was sullen and uncommunicative, but did not bother trying to fight.
“We’ll go to my quarters – I know they’re empty,” Okada said to Saya once they were back up on the main deck.
“Now for the hard part,” Saya muttered. Her foreboding about this letter had only grown over the past few minutes, but she knew he wouldn’t listen to her.
Saya and Okada sat on the floor in his quarters, side-by-side, as Okada opened the letter Sekiguchi had addressed to his second-in-command before he died.
“Aoi, blahblahblah, Hellfire Rising blahblah,” Seizo murmured as he skimmed over the content; it was three pages long, with a lot that might help them in their police work, but nothing he was currently interested in. Saya began to relax, thinking perhaps there would be nothing much in it after all. Okada, too, began to look less tense.
Then, however, he turned the second page over, and almost immediately Thalia’s name jumped out at him.
“I have made a mistake for which I cannot forgive myself, I’m afraid,” the letter read in Sekiguchi’s elegant, slanting hand. “You know I’ve always adhered to Bushido in my own way. When a samurai dishonors an honest woman, seppuku is called for. When we took Thalia-sama, I believed it was right for her as well as for me. She’s a Fury, and I seek justice through destruction; it seems perfect, and yet …
“And yet I wronged her,” the letter continued in a new paragraph. “When I took her to the surface, she was my dream come true in every possible way. Together we destroyed every member of Kaizoku in this place, and she was like nothing I’d ever seen. Her hair became snakes of fire and incinerated the enemy on contact; with a look from her eyes she had men drowning on dry land; she killed the fat lieutenant by stuffing him full of sand that fell like rain from her open hand above his face. She was a living poem of death and fury, and oh, so sexually vibrant in the midst of the blood she spilled.
“I thought she felt as I feel; I believed she wanted me as I want her. I was overcome in the moment, and did not see how much grief I created for her even as I believed we were making love. I don’t deny it was forceful, violent even, but I believed that was a preference we shared. I was wrong; she is devastated, feeling she has betrayed her true love. She is not angry with me; she is calm and kind, which makes it worse.
“She hates what we did on the planet – all of it. It’s killing her inside that she was part of something that goes against everything she believes and loves. The planet is haunted by grief and rage; it terrifies her, and it shames me.
“Love has undone me, my faithful lieutenant. I love her, and I cannot forgive myself for being the source of her misery. I do not see a way forward without her, but I cannot continue forcing her to betray her own soul. I still believe in rebirth by destruction, though I have begun to question it, so I will not disband Hellfire Rising; I leave you in command.
“I have seen myself reflected in Thalia’s eyes, and the man I saw is not fit to live. She showed me my error with my old comrades also; she made me see myself through their eyes, and that, too, was an unpleasant revelation. Any samurai who claims to follow Bushido and finds himself guilty of things such as I’ve done has only one acceptable option: seppuku. I know my Sensei would agree.
“I bid you farewell; perhaps we shall meet again, my friend, in the next life – and perhaps we will both be wiser. – Sekiguchi Teiji”
Saya’s eyes were huge and filled with tears when she finished reading. Her head spun; could Thalia-san really do those amazing things in her battle fury? More importantly, did Sekiguchi mean he had forced her … ?
“Does he mean …” Saya began to ask.
Okada leaned forward on his hands, the letter crushed in one fist. He let out a sound like a bear caught in a trap; deep, visceral, full of rage and anguish. It made Saya’s hair stand up.
“I won’t forgive him,” Seizo said, seeming to choke on the words. “I will never forgive any of them!” Tears of his rage spotted the floor.
“Any … of?” Saya repeated, frightened. “Seizo, Sekiguchi is dead. There’s nothing to be done about him now.” It was the first time she had addressed him by name, but neither of them noticed it.
“Aoi isn’t dead; he was part of it. He helped kidnap her and trapped me in that basement where I wasted a fuck-ton of time before anyone could go after her; so he’s responsible. He has to die.” Before he finished speaking, he was up and grabbing his katana.
Saya planted her foot on it, pinning it to the floor. Okada, for all his anger, couldn’t budge it. “Damn you, this is no time to play around,” he hissed.
“I can’t let you dishonor yourself,” she said coldly. “You’re not thinking straight. You can’t make a decision like this right now.”
“Like hell I can’t,” he said, and dove to tackle her. This began the first truly serious fight between the young Bloodfire warrior and the youngest Captain on the police force; it was loud, destructive, and terrifying for anyone who overheard it.
Kirito wandered over, complaining about the noise. “I have a hangover, even though I haven’t gotten to drink yet. There’s nothing worse than that, except having to listen to a couple of brats try to kill each other across the hall!” he shouted.
“No one cares about your stupid non-hangover!” Saya yelled back while trying to maintain her chokehold on Seizo. She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, trying to squeeze the carotids. Finally, he fell to his knees, then collapsed on the floor unconscious.
As soon as his head hit the floor, Saya began to cry. She knelt beside him and put his head in her lap. He was going to hate her for a while, she thought, but once he was calm again he would thank her.
Kirito saw this was serious. “What’s this about?” he asked quietly, his brow furrowed.
“I told him not to read it,” she said incoherently through her sobs. “I knew he would regret it; now I regret it too.”
“What? This?” Kirito saw the crushed paper in Sekiguchi’s familiar hand and picked it up.
“Kiri-chan! Don’t read that,” Saya said urgently, reaching for the letter. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Seems to me you two aren’t handling whatever’s in here very well, so a third opinion is called for,” Kirito replied, and began perusing the letter. Saya gave up and huddled miserably on the floor with Seizo’s head in her lap, one small hand on his forehead.
Kirito went very still and pale when he read the incendiary paragraphs.
“Okada-san wants to kill Aoi for being part of kidnapping Thalia-san,” Saya explained. “I couldn’t let him do that.”
“You shouldn’t have stopped him,” Kirito said in a strange choked voice. “The only question now is whether the Captain or the Vice-Chief takes Aoi’s head, because they both have the right. I wish I hadn’t read that myself. I just have to live with this now.”
“What’s wrong with you all?” Saya demanded. “I told you not to read it! I told you both, but you never listen. Idiots, when the hell are you men going to learn to ask before you defend your stupid ideas of our honor? This sadist just wants to make himself feel better, he’s not thinking of Thalia-san at all, and you’re just as bad.” She was crying again, and that too made her furious.
She had not noticed Okada regaining consciousness, but he heard this, and it changed his strategy from violence to reason.
“What do you want me to do, Saya?” he asked, looking up at her from her lap. “I can’t let this pass. She’s my mother, and I won’t let that happen again.”
“What do you mean, again?” Saya asked.
Kirito held up one hand. “I should not be here for this. I’m already far too angry with no outlet. If you two can promise not to destroy the ship along with each other, I’ll leave you in private for this discussion. This isn’t my fight,” he said.
“Fine, we promise,” Saya said irritably. Okada nodded his agreement, and Kirito walked away with frustration and fatigue in every line of his posture.
“You really want to know, Sa-chan?” Okada asked her when they were alone again. “Make sure you do, because as you’ve seen with me just now, sometimes it’s better not to.”
Saya shrugged. “I think I’ll follow your bad example and make everyone deal with my regret later,” she said, half-sarcastically. At the same time, she brushed his hair off his forehead unconsciously, making them both remember that his head was still cradled on her lap. She stood up very quickly, and Seizo sat up in an equal hurry, both of them blushing scarlet.
“So tell me,” Saya said defiantly, standing across the room.
“My father was a rapist,” he said, looking her in the eye and not cushioning the words, but deliberately letting their full shock value impact her. “He lost a battle to Kaa-chan, and hated her for a long time. The next time he saw her, she was alone and vulnerable, and he attacked her. That’s how I was conceived.”
The horror in her face was expected, but it hurt more than he’d thought it would. She was speechless; he couldn’t remember that ever happening to her in his presence before.
“Yes, when you call me a sadist, now you’ll know at least I come by it honestly,” he said with wrenching bitterness. Saya shook her head at this. He went on before she found words: “But even though I’m a product of rape, I’m half my mother’s – more than half hers – so still worthwhile on some plane. And if she can love me after the way I came into her life, the least I can do is live in a way that makes her proud.”
“Any mother would be proud of you,” Saya whispered. That surprised him, so she continued. “I didn’t know any of this when I started to call you Sadist; I won’t do it anymore. You can’t compare yourself with that.”
He didn’t answer at first, but slowly, his eyes lightened a little, and he found a smile. “Dumbass. Don’t change your opinion of my character over a sob story. I don’t want you to act differently with me because of my worthless father.”
“Fine, Sadist. I hate you,” she said, smiling back at him, but then growing serious again. “More importantly, I do understand why you want to kill anyone who was part of this; but I still believe you should talk to her before you shed blood in her name.”
“And I think you’re annoying as hell. But I agree to go and talk to her if you agree not to stop me if I still decide to kill Aoi afterward.” The red light of murder was back in his eyes, but she agreed reluctantly.
“Don’t forget you’re not the only one who has the right,” she added.
“Tch! Harada-san gets to do everything for her. He can leave one miserable asshole to me to kill in her honor.”
“Just make sure first that she’ll take it as an honor, then,” Saya said, giving up. He was already halfway down the hall – she followed more slowly, afraid to see what Harada-san’s face would look like when he found this out.
Okada was too worked up to remember niceties like knocking before entering a couple’s bedroom. Saya winced from down the hall as she heard the door bounce off the opposite wall, then Thalia’s bewildered voice.
“Seizo!” Thalia exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”
“I know what happened down there, Kaa-chan. I won’t forgive anyone who was part of that. I’m only here for your blessing before I go and take Aoi’s head,” he said, his voice trembling.
“What?” Thalia said, sounding honestly perplexed.
“Seizo, what the hell are you talking about? And have you ever heard of knocking? You just barged in while she’s dressed in a towel,” Harada said irritably.
Okada had, in fact, completely failed to notice this. He blushed, but the anger did not leave his face. “I apologize; it was rude. I’m very upset, or I’m sure I would have remembered to knock. Now can I have your blessing?”
“Certainly not,” Thalia said, frowning thunderously.
“Why do you want to kill off a valuable witness?” Harada demanded.
“Why?” Seizo repeated with a bitter smile. “Here’s why,” he said, handing him the letter.
Thalia put her hand on top of theirs. “No. Stop,” she said.
They both looked at her.
“I don’t know what’s in there, but I can see the effect it’s had on you,” she said to Seizo. “I have not had a chance to talk to Tetsu about this yet. I need to do this my way; this is hard enough without having extra shit to wade through right now.”
Okada Seizo fell apart. “Please,” he whispered, not caring that tears streaked his face. “Just let me kill him. I’m a product of some bastard raping you, but I can’t do anything about that except make you proud and happy whenever I can. At least let me do something this time.”
“Seizo!” Thalia said, genuinely shocked. She pulled him down beside her on the bed, letting him cry into her shoulder.
If she was shocked, however, it was nothing to what Tetsuya felt. He stayed completely still, not even breathing, trying to absorb the enormity of this. His darkest suspicions were confirmed; his fear for her had been justified. Black and red threads, twisting as if caught in a rainstorm, began to fill his field of vision; he realized he had not blinked or taken a breath in too long.
Thalia looked up at him in alarm, hearing his shuddering intake of breath.
“Oh, gods,” she said, and put out her hand to him. “Tetsu, don’t. Stop. Both of you listen to me: it’s not what you think. Whatever you believe about what happened, it’s wrong. Seizo, this is not like what happened with your father. Please, calm down and step back from this a little.”
“How do I do that, exactly?” Tetsuya asked.
“We can’t, that’s exactly it,” Seizo agreed, lifting his head, his face still wet but his eyes narrowed in bloodlust.
Thalia got angry. “You have to, it’s not a choice,” she snapped. “So find a way to do it. Damn it, Seizo, why are you even reading this?” she demanded, seeing that it was addressed to Aoi. “Tetsu and I haven’t read our own letters yet; we’re certainly not reading this one right now. And one reason we haven’t read our letters yet is that we haven’t had time to talk. It’s important that I be able to tell this in my own way. Why the hell do you have to go rushing off defending my honor, as you call it, when you haven’t bothered to ask me what happened? What are you defending? Isn’t it just your own ego?”
Saya wanted to cheer. “That’s exactly what I tried to tell him,” she said, and glared back at Okada defiantly when he gave her a furious look.
“Seizo,” Thalia said, taking his face between her hands. “I’m glad you came, because I couldn’t think of a good way to tell this story, and now you’ve reminded me I can show Tetsu, I don’t have to tell him; the way I showed you our past, remember?”
“Let me see too,” he said.
“No,” she said immediately, in a stern voice that brooked no defiance. “You are still a son to me, and there are some things I will never show you. This is one of them. I don’t want to look at it again myself, and I certainly don’t want to show the man I love, but I must. Showing you is out of the question; it will never happen. You’ll just have to take my word for what happened, and if you can’t trust me, once Tetsu has seen it all he can confirm it.”
“On that note,” Harada said, showing Seizo the door, “we really do need time alone. Saya, would you take this idiot and get him to eat something, please?”
“Gladly,” Saya said, and took Okada’s arm. “Come on, Sadist.”
Seizo did not reply, but allowed himself to be pulled out of the room.