It wouldn’t be until the sun finally crept high up enough to shine its rays directly down into the mouth of the canyon before Junko and her increasingly belligerent prisoner could start moving again. Half of the boy’s arm now lay immobilized- not out of spite or punishment, but because every time he moved it Gekko writhed around in pain. A history of practical battlefield medicine let Junko construct the most simple of splints out of wood and what string she had on hand- it would have to hold until the kid could be returned to Annitou.
“You could just amputate it.” Now that the color returned to Gekko’s skin and the rigours of the previous night having passed, his usual demeaning self was back in the forefront. If anything the struggle had only made his bitterness even more pointed. “It’s a waste of time to do first aid on someone you’re going to kill eventually anyway.”
Trudging along the canyon floor Junko didn’t even turn back to acknowledge the kid’s continually complaints. Now they both walked on their own feet, since Junko wasn’t really in the mood to haul the Gekko the rest of the way. It wasn’t as though he had anywhere to run either. The valley really restricted potential escape options, and his battered body was in no condition to give much of a chase. “I could put a splint on your jaw to keep it shut instead. Maybe then you could do more walking and less talking.” She wasn’t doing much better on that front, though. In between her fingers Junko carefully ran the blade of Sahori, checking it for dents and dings from her mishandling of it. Finding it satisfactory she eventually replaced it in its sheath, only to pull it out again for another check minutes later. This continued a truly exhausting number of times.
When the canyon eventually began to open up, and the jungle foliage began to expand outward once again, the uneasy freedom allowed to Gekko grew tighter, and he was forced to walk in front so Junko could keep an eye on him. The graveyard was still some ways away, given the wilderness path they took to reach it. At least the trip would come to an end soon.
Without warning Junko’s voice cracked out with a commanding rumble. “Stop.” Gekko did so but merely turned his head to look back at his captor with a weary face. Junko’s hands already moved to her weapons and her attention was no longer focused on the little troublemaker causing all her current problems. Instead the woman’s vision seemed to be darting through the overhead branches. This part of the jungle was particularly overgrown- the sun only barely made it through most of the foliage.
“If you need a break, you can just take a -”
“Shut it.” Junko’s posture shifted enough to let Gekko know something was up. “Don’t move.” Knowing better than to disobey at that moment the boy maintained his position and joined Junko in examining their surroundings. Here the breeze seemed absolutely dead, with every leaf and twig remaining deathly still in the humid air. Some songbirds chirped far in the distance. Occasionally a buzzy insect would whiz by or something unseen would drop from the canopy above. They were so far from Camp Monog that even if Annitou launched all their cannons at once, it was unlikely the pair would hear as much as a peep of it. They waited so long Gekko’s ears began to ring from the strain of it.
At least it gave him a chance to rest his legs. Knowing how often these situations turned into life or death struggles, though, Gekko doubted he would get to enjoy that luxury for long.
A voice boomed out with such authority that Gekko flinched, before realizing its source. “Show yourself, stranger.” Junko’s command rattled out loud enough to cause some perching birds nearby to take flight. “I am not in a patient mood today.”
“Are you ever in a patient mood?” The voice that came back was unfamiliar to Gekko. It was someone very young, and by the sound of it very confident. “You Iron City folks are always so uptight, with your ‘honor’ this and your ‘the code’ that. It’s not cool at all, you know!”
It wasn’t the voice of either of the two Metsina brats from earlier, nor was it anyone from Annitou (that Gekko could identify). Junko seemed to have a better idea than Gekko as to the source of the voice, which wasn’t even trying to disguise its location. “Hell of an introduction.” Junko didn’t relax her stance at all, if anything she only tightened it. “Get down out of the tree before I cut you out.”
“Upset that you were being followed?” A sharp crackle of laughter came out from an unseen spot in front of them. “Just doing my job, mate. You ain’t who I was looking for, anyway...” a rustling of leaves above them pushed Junko over the edge and she drew her blades immediately. The young form of Len Sosu dropped down mere feet in front of Gekko, causing the child to stumble back in surprise. He nearly tripped but was caught at the last second by Junko, now more than ready to jump into action.
“Whoa there, girl!” Len Sosu didn’t move back, nor did he even adopt a combative stance. If anything the young man looked so at ease he might have just woken up from a nap. “That’s how you treat an ally? You’ll never make friends like that.”
Junko maintained her position. “I don’t have any allies on this wretched island.”
Len Sosu grinned a blindly white grin and clapped his hands together. “See, we have so much in common!”
Since another murderous bout of violence hadn’t erupted yet, Gekko took the time to examine this newcomer. This boy was exceedingly young - perhaps not that much older than the Metsina agents from earlier. His darker skin and lighter hair easily branded him as hailing from Garion’s wastelands, which matched up with his seeming familiarity with Junko. Of course none of that really mattered. What did matter was it became apparent that the young Len Sosu’s otherwise unremarkable clothing was splattered with the unmistakable stains of freshly shed blood.
Perhaps noticing Gekko’s attention, Len Sosu quickly thumbed some of the most offensive spots as if he could wipe them off. “Ah, don’t mind the mess. Been a busy night for me. But you know, my mom says that dirty clothes are the sign of a hard worker-”
“Why is an errand boy out following me?” Junko’s harsh tone cut through Len Sosu’s banter in what Gekko considered to be a needlessly antagonistic way. “If this is some game of his-”
“Ay ay ay ay ay, relax dude.” Len Sosu threw up one hand as if tossing away a cigarette. “We both know old Moto’s got a thing for those dumb elaborate plans, but this is an incidental visit, yeah?” If Len Sosu was insulted by Junko’s speech, he certainly wasn’t showing it. Just as casually he seemed to reveal to Gekko that Daisuke wasn’t the ringleader of their little operation, but neither the boy nor Len Sosu seemed to care much about that. “The cranky dude has me patrolling around the perimeter for anyone trying to squeeze into the graveyard who shouldn’t be there. You and your baby boy can keep going, sheesh.”
“We will then. Step aside.”
“Ah, yeah, naturally.” Len Sosu turned sideways, looked wistfully off into the distance, then turned back. “But, you know, I did want to ask you something!”
“Do it later.”
Len Sosu waved his hand from side to side, a congenial gesture by most standards but somehow he made it seem almost threatening. “No, no. It won’t take long. It’ll be quick. I’ll even give you something in return.” His intense stare shifted down to Gekko for a fraction of a second. “That’s cool, isn’t it dude?”
“We’re already late. If you keep wasting our time-”
“Ah! So punctual. Lookie here.” Len Sosu stretched, then bent down slightly almost as if bowing. “Did you know, that Maeda you were dealing with, was caught by Annitou last night?”
The news briefly seemed to affect Junko, who even with her training couldn’t hide every bit of emotion from her face. “Must have been a different Maeda.”
“Oh, no, definitely not.” Len Sosu grinned, then leaned of his bow. “This was definitely the dude. And he didn’t have the dagger on him, either. Very curious!”
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“Annitou must have confiscated it.”
“Bzzt!” Len Sosu crossed his hands. “Annitou’s investigation department didn’t have it either. I checked.”
“That’s nonsense too.” Gekko finally spoke up, Len Sosu’s attitude having agitated him enough to provoke a response. “Annitou doesn’t just give out evidence to Garion Agents.”
“Well, well!” Len Sosu’s eyes pierced downwards at the diminutive Gekko. “It wasn’t like I gave them much of a choice, eh?” He punctuated his comment with a short chuckle. “So, it stands to reason, if the Maeda doesn’t have the dagger, and neither does Annitou...”
“Those Metsina Agents,” Junko stopped Len Sosu’s tirade short. “They stole it from us last night. Motonubu pissed them off real good.”
The comment earned a long, hard stare from Len Sosu. It seemed as though he was attempting to determine whether or not Junko was telling the truth. Then, it seemed, he gave up. “Ah, well, why not!” He slammed his fist into an open palm. “I’ll find out if that’s true after I deal with Daidai, I guess!”
Before Junko could even process the response, Len Sosu leapt back up into the trees. The speed and precision with which he did so was inhuman, but that was to be expected of Agents like himself. Even with his sudden departure Junko’s form remained rigid, both blades pointed up to intercept any possible attack from above. “Ah, one more thing you probably ought to know.” Len Sosu’s grinning countenance poked out from behind a leafy palm frond. “Since someone super cool and handsome broke into their headquarters and prison last night, it really stirred up the beehive. A ton of their Navy is coming in for reinforcements.”
“So?”
“Soooooo,” Len Sosu whistled. “You better pick up the pace if you want to get paid, is all I’m saying. See you, kids!” With one last wisecrack Len Sosu’s legs bounced him off the tree branch, and he resumed his rapid trip through the jungle. Junko, and her charge Gekko, could do little but stand and wait for the manic young Garion Agent’s laughter to eventually fade into the forest’s silence.
-
Was it bad news? Good? Hard to say, but what didn’t need to be thought about was the exciting prospect of bashing more heads in. Motonubu had given Len Sosu a blank check that he was more than willing to cash in once the opportunity presented itself. The dagger itself was, as usual, secondary to the true objective: getting in fights and building his reputation.
To that end the elusive General Hashimoto Daisuke was a far sexier target. Periodically during his trip Len Sosu poked his head up above the tree line to get a view of the surroundings, looking for the landmarks Motonubu told him to follow. Now that the Legionnaire woman had passed into the area he could start his work proper. It seemed stupid but Motonubu had been very particular about not accidentally killing either of them- something to do with a translation or something, Len Sosu didn’t pay much attention to the details. What mattered was that now came the real fireworks. The fun part of being an Agent!
That sense of excitement continued to build as he finally drew closer to ground zero. It looked at first glance like any other section of jungle, perhaps a bit flatter than normal but nonetheless just as overgrown and weedy as any other part. Len Sosu dropped into the earth with a thud, a small dust cloud emerging around him from the force of the impact. It wasn’t necessary to hit the ground that hard but didn’t it just look cooler? He needed to get more practice on those dramatic entrances. One simply didn’t become a legend by shuffling around plainly like that Kiku-ichimonji woman. Prestige had to be purposefully built, like a house, from the ground up.
And today Len Sosu would lay that foundation. His head slowly moved from side to side as he committed his surroundings to memory. Trees and rocks, oh boy! No trails, of course. Nothing sketchy looking either, where an ambush might originate from. These rural settings put a heavier tax on his attention than the Garion deserts did. He much preferred fighting on those open barren fields, where nothing could distract from the pure unadulterated feeling of combat. Too many nooks and crannies gave scumbags (like Motonubu!) the chance to pull a fast one. Not that Len Sosu ever lost (he didn’t), but sometimes his inevitable victory was delayed due to hassles with small details he overlooked. Regardless Motonubu made it clear this would be the ideal location for what was to come. Len Sosu would trust the scheming devil for now.
The otherwise placid wilderness air at once became filled with the raucous, roaring noise of a natural disaster. Like dominos tree after tree began to fall, pieces of splintering wood and shattered trunks rocketing into the air as a whirlwind of devastation cut a path through the forest. Like a scene out of a storybook the jungle seemed to collapse as something rampaged through it, clearing out vegetation like a ravenous monster raging against an unknown foe. When the task was complete nearly an entire city block of ruined greenery lay at the feet of an exhilarated Len Sosu. Not quite his best work, and trees didn’t put up much of a fight, and yet...
He closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of the now fully exposed sun. He held out both arms triumphantly, the dust and dirt the only thing scarring his pristine knuckles. Len Sosu wasn’t taking a rest, oh no. Exhaustion was something the teenager simply didn’t allow himself to feel. This was more like a...meditation? A reflection of what was to come. With the trees removed a fresh breeze found room to blow around him. The sky never looked more blue than it had right then. Everything was just right in the world.
Given enough time, he might have even decided to take a nap there. Though there was work yet to complete, for now Len Sosu was content in a job well done (so far). The minutes stretched by and still he did not move, choosing instead to take in the glory of (ruined) nature. Perhaps one day he might be able to do this to a fortress, or perhaps a town or city. If he was to be a Garion General then he would need such impressive feats to his name. An Agent like Motonubu, with a jutsu so weak it could barely even be called useful, simply had no chance compared to an individual like Len Sosu. His hands could move mountains. His willpower could shape the world! It would all start today! General Len Sosu, brightest burning star of the nation Garion!
It only took a second. The prep work of course took much longer, but such things could be done unseen and unnoticed, especially under the feet of someone like Len Sosu. A simple snap of his jutsu brought it to fruition. A moment later the entire cleared out section beneath Len Sosu erupted into a swirl of bright green flame. It wasn’t quite an explosion, rather it was like a wave, the flames centered on Len Sosu expanding out first and pulsating through the fallen woodland in one massive ring. Usually such wet tinder didn’t ignite that quickly but General Hashimoto Daisuke’s Hellfire burned hot enough to dry out what moisture was present in mere seconds. The entire section forest burst into a searing, inescapable heat, not just scorching everything within but also consuming every bit of present oxygen in its wake. Anything living caught inside would have a more reasonable chance of surviving on the surface of the sun.
The two Garion soldiers did seem to share at least one thing in common, at least. Off to the side Daisuke watched with pleasure as his technique engulfed and consumed the entire stack of kindling that Len Sosu had so pleasantly provided for him. Killing a fellow countryman (and one so young to boot) was of course very tragic. How unfortunate that Len Sosu’s career had led him into the care of that traitorous Motonubu! As his fire continued to burn Daisuke rolled his arm around in its socket, feeling the weight of his Sixeyes push against the stitchwork running along the underside of his arm. Jinchi might be a backwards island settlement, but at least its backwoods doctors did good work. The encounter with the sword-woman at the dock left him with more than a physical injury. There was just no good reason to engage dangerous opponents head on, especially not when he could effortlessly melt them at a distance. What power Len Sosu possessed wasn’t clear but all the better the boy was out of the picture now for when Daisuke confronted Motonubu. If his information was correct he wasn’t far from the graveyard now anyway. With a little jaunt-
From nowhere, defying everything Daisuke knew about wind, a massive downdraft plummeted straight into the center of the inferno. The normal physics which Daisuke was intimately familiar with seemed to evaporate just as quickly as the fire had spread, and rather than feeding the flames the sudden torrent of air blew the flames out and away. Ridiculous- no, more than that, it was inconceivable, something the Garion General couldn’t even comprehend. Like someone blowing out a giant candle the wind carried the flames outward farther than the clearing that Len Sosu had created, blasting it out in a ring like a ripple along the surface of a lake. Daisuke, was of course right in the path.
An unprecedented occurrence, but not an inescapable one! The Sixeyes quickly swung out as the flames rolled down towards him, and his own blast of wind blew out to meet it head on. The two fronts crashed together but the hotter fiery air slid right over Daisuke’s and rolled around him like water around a stone. A trivial defense for someone of his caliber, of course. Was this some trick of Motonubu? How could he have possibly expected that to work?
“Ah!” Deprived of its fuel, the whirling flames seemed to be quickly dying out, so Daisuke couldn’t hear exactly where that exclamation came from. He did recognize that arrogant voice, however. “There you are!”
Again, the impossibility of the situation tore at Daisuke’s mind. What was happening? There was no way- had this all been a setup? One big stunt to get Daisuke to reveal himself? Like a beacon the redirected flames shot over head, and it only stood to follow that beneath them lay Daisuke. The same fire still lingered on all sides as well, preventing any easy escape. It would take a few seconds for the flames to die down but in that time Daisuke stood like an abandoned child, alone and helpless. But who the hell could have survived his attack?
The flames roaring above Daisuke parted. The intense light cast the face in an almost demonic light, the wicked grin lit up all the more by the swirling green flames. This, Len Sosu decided, was a properly dramatic way to enter!