CHAPTER TWO

Okada had disappeared into the tiny shipboard lavatory by the time Harada reached the two women.

“Good day, ladies,” he greeted them both politely. “I trust you’re feeling better, Obaa-san?” he inquired of the elder lady.

“Ah, yes, thanks to this young lady,” she said, still a little tearful and shaky, but full of smiles for her rescuer.

Harada was not really listening. The redhead looked up when he greeted them, and everything except her face seemed to fade into background static. It felt something like the sixth sense he got about danger.

“Do I … know you?” he asked.

Okada interrupted, having returned with a cup of cold water which he handed to the elderly lady. The redhead steadied her hand, which was still shaking rather badly, so she could lift it to her lips and drink.

“Harada-san, this is Lady Thalia Cairde, newly arrived from the other dimension. We’ve been expecting her, actually – she’s been invited to apply to the Shinsengumi, and had just disembarked when she got pulled into this crisis, apparently. Lady Cairde, our Vice-Chief, Harada Tetsuya,” Captain Okada said.

Harada bowed and Thalia inclined her head.

“We are grateful for your intervention, Lady Cairde,” he said, “although it would have been better to leave this to professionals who are familiar with the area and the people.”

“Nonsense! She saved my life,” the elderly woman interjected. “Your pack of Bakufu's dogs wouldn’t have known what to do in time. I would be dead now if she had not been here.”

Harada was accustomed to the barrage of insults with which people often greeted the Shinsengumi, so he let this slide, although it rankled that no matter how hard or how zealously they worked, people so often did not acknowledge, let alone appreciate it.

“Ayano-san, I’m sure they have officers trained in medical emergencies, so you would have been fine. They would’ve taken great care of you.” This unexpected support came from Thalia Cairde. She spoke softly and well; there was a definite lilting accent, but it did not make her difficult to understand. She looked up at Harada again, her blue eyes unreadable. “I apologize, Vice-Commander, if I overstepped propriety the moment I arrived. I’m a professional in my world, so I felt confident in handling this, but it was not my intention or desire to offend the Shinsengumi.” She bowed slightly as she said this.

“You were already with the police on your world?” Harada asked. This surprised him, perhaps because the Shinsengumi had never included women before; it had shocked them all when Chief Kato told them Lady Cairde had been invited to apply by someone high up in government – higher even than the Police Commissioner – and they were under instruction that she was to be given special preference.

There was no real reason for the Shinsengumi not to include women; other military and police organizations had done so for some time. It had simply never come up for the Shinsengumi before. if she already had experience, it made more sense to Harada for her to be the first to even be considered.

Thalia replied with diffidence. “I was active on the Force for a few years, then decided to concentrate my energy in other areas and just consult for the police. I’ve been more medically inclined over the past few years, but I’m also trained in hostage negotiation.”

“I see,” he said. “Will you be staying long in Edo?” he asked.

“Indefinitely, yes,” she replied.

“Vice-Commander!” a sergeant interrupted, bowing low but unable to tear his eyes away from Thalia’s velvet-swathed breasts. “The prisoners are en route to Headquarters.”

“Good. We can let these people go back to their families, then,” Harada said. “Stop staring and go see that everyone stays calm.” He glared at the hapless sergeant, who blushed, bowed, and hurried away. “Lady Cairde, I know you’ve just arrived and no doubt wish to settle in a little; so perhaps you would stop by our headquarters tomorrow morning? I have more questions for you regarding this incident, and I know the Commander will want to meet you before we start the official interview.”

Okada was being unusually quiet, Harada thought. He was looking at Lady Cairde as if she puzzled him, as if he was trying to remember something that was eluding him. Perhaps she just had that effect on everyone.

Thalia bowed politely. “I’ll be honored to stop by tomorrow,” she agreed.

Thalia helped the old lady to her feet and they began to walk up the aisle, the elderly woman clinging to Thalia’s arm; she was still a little unsteady, but otherwise appeared well.

“Vice-Commander! Captain!” came an officer’s voice from the direction of the cockpit. They turned, and when Harada turned back a few moments later, both ladies were already gone. He went after them into the terminal, and discovered Lady Cairde being mobbed by grateful relatives.

“Would someone hand me my cloak, please?” she was saying rather desperately, trying to reach a purple and green garment that had been draped over the check-in counter. Harada reached over a few people and retrieved it, then handed it to her. She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Vice-Commander,” she said.

“Onee-san, onee-san!” came a shrill little voice from the vicinity of her feet. The little girl who had melted her heart in the first place was standing there beaming up at her. Thalia smiled and bent down.

“Well, little one! Did you give your mama a big hug?”

“Uh-huh. Thank you, nee-san. Want to give you a big hug too,” the little girl said, bouncing up and down.

“That would be the best thank-you ever,” Thalia said, and opened her arms. She made a small, startled sound when the little girl erupted into them, putting her into a stranglehold. Her eyes went wide for a moment, but she managed not to lose her balance. It made Harada smile; she smiled back at him.

The little girl’s parents admonished their child not to jump on top of people, to be gentler, and similar directives which were all cheerfully ignored. They began to pour out thanks when Thalia stood up with the little one in her arms, bowing and expressing their gratitude with as much sincerity and a much greater degree of calm than their daughter. Thalia bowed in return, protesting that she had been very happy to be of service.

At this juncture, Harada was distracted by a murmur he overheard. “Isn’t that the Demon Vice-Chief of the Shinsengumi?” The voice sounded incredulous, as well it might; he had a fearsome reputation to uphold, yet here he was in public, on duty, grinning like an idiot. He smoothed his expression, embarrassed.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“It’s the foreigner,” another voice murmured, not thinking he heard. “He can’t take his eyes off her.”

He turned around and looked out the window, just to prove this remark wrong.

“Vice-Commander,” came Lady Cairde’s voice at his side a few moments later. She was very small, he noticed; the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “Did you want to ask me something before I go?” she asked. “I wondered because you seemed to be looking for me earlier,” she explained.

“Lady Cairde, you’ve done us a great service. It’s the least we can do to escort you to your hotel, unless perhaps you’re staying with someone?” he said.

She gave him a cynical half-smile. “Ah, yes. Make sure you know where I am, in case I fail to show up tomorrow.”

He blushed in spite of himself. “That too, yes,” he said.

“I was just going to get my suitcase, which I left over there under some chairs,” she explained. She had by now given up on her unruly hair, and was trying to pretend it did not exist. Half of Edo had seen it already, in particular the one man she was interested in impressing; no point trying to glam now.

“Of course,” Harada said. But as they approached, Thalia became certain her suitcase was gone.

“What?!” she shouted. “Who would steal my bag while I’m negotiating with terrorists?” She began looking about, her eyes full of lightning.

“What does your bag look like, Lady Cairde?” Harada asked, though he did not hold out much hope of finding it.

“It’s huge and purple. Can’t miss it. It’s” – she stopped abruptly and began running full-speed down the long corridor leading to the exit doors. Harada followed her, cursing under his breath. He caught up with her, noticing she ran with total focus, in silence. She might actually have been well trained.

He now saw a huge purple suitcase being dragged behind a furtive-looking man in sunglasses. That thief had to be a hopeless moron to steal anything so awkward and conspicuous.

She caught up without any trouble and leapt with silent grace onto the unfortunate thief, knocking him to the ground, then punched him in the face. “Don’t steal a lady’s BAG!” she yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway, stealing something this big in broad daylight? Who taught you how to steal?" The thief’s mouth started bleeding, but he looked far more shocked than hurt.

“Seizo,” Harada said into his radio, standing over the culprit with a faint but effective air of menace, pretending he was not at all bewildered. “There’s a thief I need you to arrest. Down the hall toward the C-level concourses.”

Harada turned half his attention back toward Thalia, keeping the other half for the would-be thief, still trembling on the ground. “Are you Bloodfire, by any chance?” he asked her. She’d been so gentle with the victims and their families that Bloodfire had not seemed possible; but twice now he had glimpsed another side of her. She had a temper and wasn’t afraid to use it; yet based on her performance with the terrorists, she could control it well – and that was unlike most of the Bloodfire clan.

She laughed. “Why does everyone seem to assume that? It's what got me dragged into all this in the first place. No, where I come from we don’t have a Bloodfire clan. I’m half human, half Faerie. I imagine it’s possible the Bloodfire are this universe’s version of the Fae, but I have no idea at this stage.”

“Faerie?” Harada asked. It sounded familiar, he thought, but couldn’t place it. “What can you tell me about them?”

“In my dimension, the Fae have lived on Earth – Gaia – for many thousands of years. We were once an immortal race, but that has changed; why and how is a long story. The Fae are now mortal, though longer-lived than humans unless killed. There are countless species of Fae, which can vary wildly in every way. In my family’s tribe they’re usually a little smaller than humans, but also usually stronger. Like humans, they're reincarnated until they learn the soul’s lessons. Fae and Humans coexist in relative peace now in most places on our world, but still don’t generally associate much, due to past hostilities on both sides.”

“Sounds familiar,” Harada said, frowning in an effort to remember why.

“I’m not surprised,” she murmured, almost as if she didn’t mean him to hear.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away, but gave him a speculative look. It was important to phrase things carefully at this stage; Faeries retained clear memories of past lives, while humans often needed prompting to remember even vague pieces of their past selves. This was likely a trait they'd evolved for survival, since the human psyche was such a fragile thing. Thalia’s memories were mostly distinct, half-breed though she was.

“There’s a lot about you that strikes me familiar as well; as if we knew each other once. Or is that just me?” she asked, looking up at him.

“It’s not just you,” he agreed. “But I don’t see how we could have met before, at least not in this lifetime,” he added.

“Precisely,” she said.

Before he could process this, Okada arrived with another officer to take the thief into custody.

“Oi, Harada-san, did you need to knock out the man’s tooth? Wasn’t that just showing off?” Seizo remarked, jibing his superior in his usual nonchalant manner.

“I knocked his tooth out because he pissed me off by stealing my suitcase,” Thalia answered cheerfully.

Okada looked surprised. “I see, Lady Cairde.” He was avoiding eye contact with her for the most part, Harada noticed, which was unlike Okada Seizo. How strange, he thought.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, perhaps, Captain Okada?” she asked.

“I look forward to it, Lady Cairde,” he replied, bowing. With that he turned away, prisoner and officer in tow.

“You know, I don’t think he really does,” she remarked when he was out of hearing range. Harada did not know what to say to this, so he addressed himself to carrying the suitcase instead.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he said, dropping it after five minutes of breaking his back with the damn thing. “You’re reinforcing a stereotype, you know: woman with ludicrous amount of luggage. And it’s neon purple. It could only be worse if it was pink with little cartoon cows sprinkled on it.”

“I like purple. And how light do you want me to pack?” she demanded, insulted. “I’m moving my entire life to another dimension. One suitcase is impressively light packing, if you ask me.”

“Why did you move here, if I may ask?” Harada inquired, resigning himself to hefting the blasted thing all the way to the carriage.

“You may ask, but you won’t get an answer,” she retorted with a twinkle of mischief.

“I see,” he said, his curiosity piqued.

She swept ahead of him, not intending to help at all with her giant load of rocks, bricks, paper, or whatever it was she hadn’t been able to live without from the other universe. She did help shove her bag into the back seat of his steam-powered carriage as if it was a criminal being detained, then sat beside him in front. Technically he shouldn’t allow it, but he did not feel up to the task of telling her to sit in the back.

She told him the name of her hotel in the Kabuki district. “I know some people who live near there,” he told her.

“Oh, yes? Friends of yours?” she asked.

“Tch. Pains in the ass, more like,” he replied. “But they’d be good for introducing you around if you want.”

“Sounds like you’re just foisting annoying neighbors onto me,” she said, her eyes dancing.

“Yes, pretty much,” he agreed, smirking.

Harada Tetsuya was well-known in Kabukicho, and it pleased him to let his face be seen with Thalia Cairde as he hauled her ludicrous accursed luggage up to her room for her. They could draw what conclusions they wished, he decided loftily; his goal was merely to broadcast to criminals in the area that she was a guest under Shinsengumi protection, and they had best stay away.

Whether this was to protect her or the criminals, he was uncertain. Both, he thought, recalling how she’d pounced on the thief like a large, angry cat. He entered her room and set the suitcase down with a loud, disgusted thud.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, looking around as if mesmerized.

“What?” he asked, mystified. It looked like a perfectly ordinary, generic hotel room to him.

“It’s different from everything I left behind; but just as I imagined it would be,” she said. “A futon instead of a Western bed!” She knelt on the low mattress, pressing her hands down on it and looking disappointed. “Hmm. Not very comfortable, maybe,” she added.

“Lady Cairde, since you don’t know your way around yet, why don’t I send a carriage to pick you up tomorrow?” Harada was suddenly in a hurry to leave.

“What time?” she asked.

“Uh, about ten?”

“That’s fine. I can sleep almost the whole time between now and then, in the hope of avoiding too much travel fatigue. Thank you, Vice-Commander; it was interesting to meet you in such an … exciting way,” she said, standing and bowing as if recalling propriety, though he had the impression her eyes were full of mischief again.

“My pleasure,” he said, thinking that this was probably the first time the polite inanity had been sincere from his lips. He departed without another word.

That bed was like a summer storm, he thought. Changed the landscape in the blink of an eye.