As if responding to Junko’s decision to finally ditch the job, several loud claps of thunder rumbled through the open air of the graveyard. The rain was coming! Finally, something was going her way. The rain would cover her tracks. What more evidence did she need that fate was pushing her towards escape?
Yet, as the thunder continued, its true nature became apparent. Somewhere nearby came the gut-rumbling sound of cracking and shattering of rock and earth, unlike anything else Junko experienced in her life. Even her teeth rattled with each blast! Junko didn’t slow her sprint, but did shoot a quick look back over her shoulder to confirm her fears.
Behind Junko, scattered throughout the graveyard, rose smoky plumes of dust and debris. Another volley of concussive booms shook the air. Another location within eyesight exploded, sending even more junk sky high upon impact. That all but confirmed Annitou involvement- they were shelling the graveyard with cannonfire!
That conclusion slowed her step by a bit, but not by much. A massive military barrage made some sense. The Annitou Navy chased Junko here looking for Daisuke and against a General there were no second chances. If Annitou believed their target was camping here in the graveyard then of course they would initiate an all out offensive to get the drop on an unsuspecting enemy. That fit the Annitou philosophy of war to a tee- shoot first, ask questions never.
But Daisuke wasn’t here. Even Motonubu, who definitely deserved to catch a bullet, almost certainly wouldn’t have been lingering around the graveyard that morning either. The only person left was herself, and of course Gekko. It hadn’t even been that long since...
Now fully stopped, Junko whipped her head completely around. Gekko’s tombstone-turned-watchpost could easily be seen from where she stood. She was too far away to really make out any details but the boy’s body posture looked as though he was trying to take cover. There hadn’t been enough time for Gekko to descend, and even if there had been it would have been a very slow process. What was Annitou doing? Did they just trust their aim with their artillery fire to not hit the child? That was insane regardless of how skilled they might be! The plumes of smoke rising from the impact points of their barrage all clustered around the kid anyway, so they weren’t doing that good of a job avoiding him so far. What a bunch of clowns! No wonder Daisuke had been able to avoid them for so long, those buffoons were a risk to everyone, including themselves.
Then Gekko’s rock exploded. The boy disappeared in a puff of gray smoke as something in front of it collided, sending stony shrapnel in all directions. Junko felt her blood run cold. She was no expert on firearms- the technology was fairly rare on the mainland and gunpowder was difficult to get ahold of everywhere but on Annitou. But what little she did know was that hitting far away targets that were as small as that gravestone was not an easy task. Even accidentally hitting it should have taken much longer, it was like trying to hit a housefly by throwing a grain of rice at it. From the repeated concussive booms she could tell there were multiple cannons, but even still...
The only way they hit Gekko was because they had been aiming for him. Daisuke might not have been their only target after all.
What did it matter? Who cared! The crazy decisions made by Annitou were none of Junko’s concern anymore. She needed to retreat, regroup, and figure out a plan of escape. That hit would have definitely injured or killed Gekko anyway. At best, if the kid was insanely lucky, the rock might have provided some cover for him and prevented him from getting instantly obliterated. But even if that was the case Gekko was screwed since he would be stuck dangling on the side of a crumbling rock structure afterwards. There was nobody else there to help him, and even his own people were shooting at him. So really, Gekko was in a completely hopeless situation. Served him right! This was just justice, wasn’t it?
Junko started grinding her teeth in agitation. Dumb, stupid kids always made terrible decisions. This was all his own fault. She had no intention of endangering herself to save an ungrateful and belligerent teenager. This was ideal, actually! The perfect chance to escape while Annitou was occupied. Junko resumed her flight from the graveyard. There was no other decision that could be made.
Back at the tombstone the cloud of dust was just beginning to settle when another round of cannonfire began bombarding the area. Annitou’s aim improved after each shot. The first volley always got used to gauge distance and speed anyway. Gekko’s experience with this was quite limited, though. He always ducked out of those trainings, and Ringo was the designated team ‘gunner’ when it came to cannon maintenance. The boy basically slept through the Cadet Academy and left the grittier details of warfare to his much more enthusiastic teammates.
Even so Gekko knew about how long it took to load a cannon, and about how long to expect them to line up their shots. Someone got lucky with their first launch and blasted him dead on by pure coincidence. He would have cursed his awful luck, but life on Jinchi apparently meant suffering this kind of absurdity on a daily basis. By now he was getting used to it.
And by the looks of things this might be the last indignity he would have to suffer. Gekko clung to the underside of the tombstone, his toes and one good set of fingers trying in vain to dig deeper into the hard surface for more grip. His position shifted entirely to put the remains of the stone between him and the line of fire. Those first few Annitou uniform wearing scouts he saw meant he could kind of guess where the shooting came from; it just so happened that meant Gekko was forced to take shelter on the side heavily inclined against him. If that damned Junko hadn’t moved the stone, he wouldn’t even be in this position! Gekko’s ears buzzed and rang something awful from the sound of the blasts, and though he couldn’t feel the pain yet he knew his skin must have been absolutely perforated by the sharp shards of rock that broke off from the initial impact. He felt so miserable that holding on almost felt like a worse idea than just giving up entirely.
Choking smoke surrounded Gekko on all sides, keeping his location obscured for a few more precious moments. He couldn’t even see the ground below him anymore. If he dropped from this height there was no doubt in his mind he would break a leg, probably both. Then he could lie there dying instead of staying up here and...dying. Then when Annitou moved in with their foot soldiers, he would be at the mercy of the Navy. Why were they firing on him, anyway?! Was it a miscommunication? Did they think he was Daisuke or something? Annitou Bossa speakers like himself were considered too valuable to be let captured alive, and yeah he was supposed to have killed himself to prevent those precious Annitou codes from being stolen, but come on! That was just like, a suggestion, right? You didn’t murder your own comrades because of some silly nonsense like that!
Gekko’s toes began to slip on the rock under him. The entire trip up until that point drained him of so much strength already, and every additional second he strained to remain on the rock made his muscles scream all the more. Like the rising sun an inevitable conclusion rose on the horizon: Gekko was going to fall. No bushes or soft earth waited for him down below either. Nothing would greet his landing butl jagged and misshapen tombstones. At best he might land on the shoes he left behind before clambering up the rock. Continuing to hold on wasn’t going to work either- even if his trembling arms and legs could hold him there indefinitely there would only be seconds left before Annitou reloaded their cannons.
This was it, then! Prior to leaving for his service in the Annitou Navy, Gekko’s mother told him (in Bossa for an extra bitter taste) something along the lines of ‘nothing is worth dying for’. It was covered up in that fruity language that priests and priestesses like to use, but that had been the gist of it. She was right, of course. Gekko wasn’t even sure what he was dying for now, even less sure than when he had gotten recruited into the Navy. Speakers like himself were exceedingly rare, even if the talent itself wasn’t much use beyond sending coded messages. Annitou basically conscripted every jutsu user they uncovered in their borders anyway- nobody really had a choice, regardless of how useless or simple their talents may be. This was branded as a positive. ‘The Annitou military accepts all gifts, because we’re all one people!’
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What a bunch of hogwash. Bit too late to worry about it now, though.
Better to die on his own terms, then! Gekko relented and let go. In an ideal world he would have been able to slide down the tombstone to lessen the speed of his fall, but because of the incline he plummeted straight down like a dropped stone. He kept his head up since he didn’t want to see the ground rushing up at him even though the smoke kept him from seeing it anyway. That experience with the cliff had been bad enough. Instead he simply made his peace with having his legs pulverized upon landing. What was it they had taught at the Academy? Keep your body loose, try to land on your butt? That nonsense never worked. Even all the tree leaping that Hajime and Ringo practiced ended up with them bruised and battered. Gekko stood no chance.
The air whipped around his ears as he fell. Just before impact he heard another round of cannons go off. Even if he survived they were going to turn the graveyard into a smoking crater anyway. Typical Annitou tactics. Why leave a prisoner when you could leave a corpse?
The impact came hard and fast. His legs shook and every organ in his body shifted painfully as his momentum came to a screeching halt. The feeling was terrible, of course. But it was something else too. Something that Gekko hadn’t expected.
The feeling was familiar. This had happened to him before.
But where?
Back at the cliff.
The thought was so inconceivable it wasn’t until Gekko was completely clear of the rising clouds of dust that he even realized it wasn’t just some near death hallucination. Denial only lasted so long. His body was splayed out like a doll, hoisted over the shoulder of someone. ‘Someone’ didn’t take long to figure out. It was that infernal woman! Junko caught him prior to impact, using the same technique she used from before when he tried to escape. And now that same insufferable someone carried him away from the immediate area being viciously shelled by Annitou. It baffled the mind.
“This is your last freebie, got it?” Junko hissed, clearly angry at more than just Gekko. “I’m done after this. You’ll have to deal with your own boneheaded choices from now on.”
Finally able to take a breath Gekko just wheezed out an immense, relenting breath. “Just put me down and let me die. I’m done.”
“You’re a bloody lunatic.” Junko ducked down behind a row of unevenly spaced gravestones and did put Gekko down, but only to quickly look over his injuries. “Your friends out there are also bloody lunatics. What the hell is in Annitou’s water that makes you dumbasses act so unreasonably?”
The far too close cannonfire continued. A large amount of smoke now rolled across the graveyard, a mixture of the loosened dust and dirt from where the cannonballs impacted and actual smoke from the repeated blasts of gunpowder from the treeline. Despite sounding like a warzone most of the graveyard still remained intact. The Annitou forces seemed intent on focusing their efforts onto a small zone around where Gekko had previously been spotted, likely as they had not seen him drop.
Surely they believed Gekko to be dead? Or were they hoping to catch Junko or Daisuke, who might have been in the area with him? That sounded exactly like an order General Gou might give. Sacrifice for the greater good was such an Annitou bigwig argument to make. Yes, the loss of Gekko would be tragic, but it was like catching a big fish with a juicy piece of bait. And really what was the loss of one child compared to removing a dangerous General that had already hurt a lot of your own men? Sometimes to cure an infection you had to chop off a few limbs. If anything, the exchange of one young boy for someone as dangerous as Daisuke was a blessing! Gekko should have been happy that he got to die for something as noble as protecting his countrymen!
Except, of course, General Hashimoto Daisuke wasn’t here, and the only other person the bombardment could have possibly hurt was Junko, who wasn’t worth anyone at all. The thought actually made Gekko nauseous. Imagine being sacrificed just to possibly hurt this ape of a woman who couldn’t even mind her own business!
“You look fine.” Junko turned and spit, still very much incensed about the whole affair. “Nothing a few hours picking splinters out of your skin won’t fix. At the very least your legs are good.” She wiped some of the blood off her hands into her cloak then looked Gekko straight in the eye. “You can stay here and die if you want. That will be your own choice. I’m getting out of here.”
“You won’t make it.” Gekko’s distant voice still somehow found the strength to carry that insufferable tone of arrogance. “This is a standard Annitou military maneuver. They wouldn’t have started firing unless they knew the escape routes were also cut off.”
“So what?” Junko put her hands back on the hilts of her weapons. “I’ll blast through them. Maybe if you chase after me you can squeeze through as well. I ain’t watching after you anymore though.”
“Pointless.” Gekko’s eyes wandered upward towards the slowly disappearing sky. The once ominous storm clouds were slowly being overtaken by the thickening dust. “Are you going to cut through every guard at Camp Monog? Every Annitou ship at sea? You’re as dead as I am.”
“I’d backhand you, but you’d probably take that as an excuse to keep pouting.” Rising up to her feet briefly Junko peeked out past the cover of the tombstones. The cannons had been firing farther apart now, as if the assault was slowing. Annitou was likely planning to sweep through the graveyard on foot next to confirm if they had gotten their targets. What a reckless scattershot of a plan this was! But, having faced Daisuke herself, she could understand the thought behind it. Even direct contact with Agents could be dicey for the everyday soldier. No doubt General Gou and his men faced such dangers repeatedly and knew that indirect engagements were preferable to getting up close and personal. Junko could probably take down a number of them but ultimately Gekko did make some sense. One person couldn’t fight an army.
Well, Daisuke might have been able to, but his involvement was a complete fabrication anyway. If Motonubu hadn’t been posing as the General this whole time then no doubt they would have been in a much worse position. What a rotten feeling, having to feel indebted to that gremlin of a man yet again.
“Alright, let’s say your pessimistic doom rambling is right.” Junko bent back down to the despondent Gekko. “We brought you here because there’s supposedly something important in this graveyard. If we find it, maybe we can use it as a bargaining chip. Or hold it hostage, or something.”
“There’s nothing here.” Gekko gazed off and didn’t even bother making eye contact with the increasingly furious Junko. “Do you want to know what I saw? What I figured out?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you.”
“The addresses.” Gekko’s eyes flitted back and forth between something unseen in the distance. “The way the stones are lined up. It’s all Bossa alright. But this isn’t some ancient tomb of kings or artifacts or any of that nonsense.” Now he looked, just for a moment, at the perplexed face of Junko. “It’s a dumb landfill. The Jinchi civilization used this location to bury everything. Their trash, their dead, it’s all just garbage. There’s not a single thing of value to be found here.”
“What? Motonubu said-”
“Only a few of these are actual gravestones.” Gekko rolled his head back and closed his eyes. “The rest are just directions, like ‘throw food waste here’ and ‘dump tainted water here’. It’s a dump. It’s an ancient, historical dump.”
Punctuated by the last few blasts of cannonfire trickling in, Junko just pursed her lips and let the relative silence linger for a moment. Did that change anything? Had Motonubu been misinformed this whole time, and the entire endeavor was completely pointless? Well, pointless for him. Junko still got paid, technically. It seemed like a bit much to take in. All that death and suffering just to discover that the golden promised land was a trash pile? Could fate be so cruel?
Yes, absolutely. There was no natural law saying the universe bent its will to the desires of tiny humans. Sometimes, perhaps most times, chasing after buried treasure proved fruitless. With an army closing in, nothing but hostile jungle on all sides, and the threat of exploding into a bloody mist at any time, this whole ordeal looked to be ending in one tremendous, violent dead end.