Chapter 1
Fear and faith feed one another. Mine withered long ago. しかし during seventh period on a dateless afternoon, they rose like skeletons from the dead. Oh Mama how can I describe it to you? Would you believe me? I’m not sure I believe it myself.
Blood dripped from the students’ eyes as they stared. Twenty pairs of blinkless blank daggers pierced me deep enough to send even the most ungodly to their knees. I remained seated, jaw slack, posture stiff, too shocked to bend or stand.
But a sparse light (光) sputtered in my soul. Did I dare walk that road again? “It’s gonna be different this time. I’ll do it better… dunno.”
All I know is something summoned me that day. Whether it was from my buried past –deeply entombed – or the fuzzy future was unclear. But first, someone had to clean up all that blood. And it wasn’t gonna be me.
In the following week everything went by the book. Custodians bathed the desks in bleach. Base Civil Engineers did a full work up. All pipes, pumps, windows, walls, and anything attached to them were inspected, then re-inspected.
Meanwhile, parents raised hell on the Kadena school Facebook page.
“That building needs to be condemned!”
“I’m pulling my son out. We’ll go to Montessori or Kumon. Hell, we might even home school him and our two younger ones. NOT SAFE!”
“I knew that dump was haunted.”
Yumi stood reading the comments on her phone. She shook her head with skepticism.
“Haunted? Everyone knows Kadena High School has probably the lowest tier of ghostly activity on the base. It’s surely below that “murder house” they knocked down behind the CDC a few years back. Can you believe what they’re saying Z?”
We were in my classroom during “grading time.” In other words when normal people were having dinner. The overwhelming chemical smell was gone; it was blown away by the aggressive use of floor fans, window ventilation, and lots of handwaving as if invisible flies buzzed all around. But when the nose-turning stench departed, something else replaced it.
I tried to describe the presence – first to myself, then others – but at every attempt the words wouldn’t come. At the slightest firing of a related neuron cluster, a complementary spark plucked a preying eye open. It was a crocodile orb: slitted, yellowed, burning dull in the dark. Once, fully open hands grew from its formless body. “Open wide,” it would say. Willfully (or unconsciously unwilfully) I complied. Then fingers come to rest in my mouth choking off any would-be vibration of a letter, word, or phrase back down my throat. No mirror reflected my gagging or wretching. But every time it happened my diaphragm convulsed, causing me to dry cough as if a hammer had struck my chest.
I covered my mouth as I let out a sick heavy hack. Yumi patted me on the back.
“You gettin’ sick?”
“Dunno. Must be from all the cleaning stuff in here. It’s like a hundred skunk tails. Feels like they’ll never go away.”
“Do skunks smell as bad as cow shit? Lot’s a that where I live up in Yomitan.”
I chuckled, “Yeah, it’s probably close. Cow shit wins by hair I suppose.”
“Well you won’t have to smell this stink much longer if everything works out with the front office. They told you anything yet?”
“Nothin’. Y’know how close-hold and awkward Principal Kane can be.”
She laughed. “Guy can barely keep his hair on straight.”
“Ain’t it the truth!?” Our laughter closed the monster’s eye for the moment.
“But anyway, I’m crossing my fingers for the job. I think I’m ready for a new challenge.”
Yumi flashed a scolding glance. “Don’t do that. You don’t need any luck at all. Ever since you walked in the door two years ago, I knew you were Vice Principal material.”
“Aw y’think so?”
“Yeah! It’s something about your walk. It’s the perfect speed and stride. Business, but not stuck-up. Plus, you’ve got a great ‘no bullshit stare.’ You need that to make the kids piss themselves every now and then.”
I let out something like a laugh but lower – a shaking vocal strain behind a smile accompanied by a rapid release of air. But the tension remained. Yumi didn’t notice the odd utterance.
She started saying something else about how fun it might be to chew kids out, but my mind wandered back to those bloody eyes. A dark word followed, then I coughed.
“You alright?” There was concern in her voice now.
“Yeah, throat’s just dry from talkin’ all day. Y’know how it goes.”
She nodded understanding.
“Y’know some kids are sayin’ my class was so boring that it literally made the students’ eyes bleed. What the hell is that? Doesn’t anybody care about English anymore?”
“Of course they do... just not in Japan,” she chided.
“Oh you’re no fun! You headed home?”
Yumi swung her short slight frame off the student desk she’d been sitting on, then headed toward the door.
“Eventually… but probably not sober or alone.”
I returned a teasing glare.
“See! There’s that VP-stare. I think I need a new pair of panties now.”
“Ha. Funny… make smart choices, be careful, oh and skip the Daiko, call me if you need a ride.”
She shrugged with nonchalant shoulders. “Smart choices are for every other day of the week.” On her way out she looked back, “Oh and say hi to James for me!”
The door closed with a click. But I wasn’t alone. A sudden acceleration surrounded me. I had to get out of there.
With haste, I wrapped up at my desk, exited my classroom, then proceeded down the darkened halls out through the damp air and shut the door to my red Mira Gino. Something followed me out. I felt it. Eyes forward, don’t look in the back. Turn the key. Drive.
As I drove, the pointed trees, streetlights, and slant of the seat conspired to convince me of a surveillance by spirit. That’s when fresh fear found me again.
“Did you see Papa? Mama is here.” Is what I wanted to say, what I wanted to think. But that hopeful light sank with the sun, along with my island innocence.
Chapter 2
For James Marlowe the mission was a monster - a 化け物. But it didn’t scare him. It was those moments in between he found most troublesome. Restlessness gave rise to doubting misdirection. But as long as there was a dragon to slay – no matter how toothless – he was the best husband you could ask for.
“I don’t want to say you look like shit, but… I guess that has nothing to do with dinner. What do you wanna eat?”
His words as soon as I walked in the door. That boyish brilliant smile followed. In his flightsuit, he still looked just as studly as the day we got hitched five years ago, but he didn’t have it on. In house clothes, there was nothing to hide the rise in his belly that seemed to swell like the grassy bunkers guarding the gas off of highway 58. A poor attempt at concealment on both counts. “Nothin’. I’m not very hungry.” I pressed a brief kiss on his lips, then set my bag down. When it hit the floor, my internal auto-pilot switched on. Nightly routine – engage. There was an extended trip to the bathroom, shower, and a show or two in my near future. I unbuttoned my pants and unstrapped my bra ready to relax. But James’s eyes were on me. He had more to say.
“Okaay, you’re not hungry for food. How about something a little… longer, meatier?” He came over, wrapped me by the waist and pulled me against him. The heat of his body made my spine tingle. Soon there was a lump lengthening against my upper thigh. Lust-filled fire heated my blood; rushing to surround the area like firefighters following a 9-1-1 call. That part of me was ready to go.
But then I saw it. There in the far corner of the living room behind a wilting potted plant. That gaze of grief; the one that sneaks up and might be watching you as you read this now – you know the one. Don’t look! I warn myself, but I’ve already let it have my eyes. Retention needs attention, intention frees detention. Yet, still I’m its 囚人. A prisoner. Even ascetic mindwork won’t aid my escape. Why is it here, too?
The sight of the shadow made my heart pound a cold cadence – not a song to screw to, that’s for sure.
“Aww, uh not tonight baby. I’m wiped out.” When his enthusiasm drooped, guilt gripped me. “This weekend for sure, okay?” I escaped his embrace before he could feel my internal panic pulsing against him.
“Okay, okay, I’ll… keep it warm for you.” He thrust the bulge in his shorts in my direction. The movement filled me with familiar levity. In the corner, our miserable plant stood alone under the lamp light. I stared over there a second longer than normal.
“Z, something wrong? You seem a little out of it. How’d it go at school today?”
I sighed. “Eh, y’know, just the whole school and base thinks my class is co-managed by evil spirits.”
He filled a glass of water at the sink, took a few gulps then said, “Still with that? Didn’t the Med Group clear all the kids? That should’ve been enough to shut them up.”
“They did. Even put out a spot on AFN by their commander saying the school was safe and none of the kids were hurt. But y’know, nobody cares about the truth. Only the story that sounds like it could be the next Halloween movie. That’s what they want.” I sat on the couch, head low.
James joined me. “But there’s already so many terrible Halloween movies. Can’t they just rewatch something like Saw to get fake screams and cheap scares?”
“Hey! I liked that one back in high school. My friends and I watched it every year, well up till’ the fifth one. They really jumped the shark with that one.”
He shook his head. “That first one was way too predictable. As soon as I saw the body in the middle of the room, I knew he’d get up somehow.”
A smile slid on my face as I rubbed his back, “Thanks for the throwback. Really got my mind off things. How was your day?”
“Oh so, uh they want to send me TDY again…”
My face flashed red. “Again!?”
“Well, yeah.” His eyes went to the carpet.
“Dammit James, that’s the third time this month! Can’t they get Decker to go? Or anyone else?”
“You know ol’ “Nailbat” won’t go for it. C’mon Z, this is my job—”
“I get it. But it doesn’t make it any easier. It sure as hell doesn’t make me wanna have kids any sooner. You’re hardly here.” Why did I say that?
His facial lines inverted. All humor collapsed into hurt.
What was I thinking?
He got up slow, then headed toward the stairs.
“James wait!”
“Z, what is it?” When he turned our shadows met on the floor. The lamp and ceiling lights shone at our backs just so to create the merged image. A snap of white-beaded eyes rose between us at my feet. They studied me, then James. I felt something behind me – I whipped my head around, unsure what I would find. There was only the usual wall of photos.
“Z, what were you looking at just now, behind you?”
“It was… nothing.”
His posture hardened. “Look Z, I don’t know what’s happening with you. But when you’re ready to talk about it, just tell me. Without the kick in the balls would be nice.” Following the comment, he stormed upstairs.
Stupid! Why did I say that? As a surge of fresh regret hit me like waves at Cape Zanpa, another dry cough shook my core. James and I didn’t speak for the rest of the night.
Chapter 3
Past makes present as day makes night. But the order doesn’t matter much. It feels that way in Oki. First, this was the Kingdom of the Ryukyus. Small, isolated and – as far as I understand – relatively safe for centuries. Then China came to do what it does best: conquer through commerce (then cannon if necessary). That lasted a few hundred years until the Japanese government sailed in and claimed it for their own… well kinda. They were like a modern day US government contractor – pay taxes, show up to meetings, provide a few services but for the most part remain invisible and keep hustling on the side.
China remained the number one sugar mama in those days. One hand out, one behind the back – they played it smart. All while dealing with increasingly strict Japanese regulations. A big one, as far as I heard, was no weapons allowed (couldn’t have the locals rising in revolt, could they?)
しょうがない。(It was no big deal.) Locals learned other ways to defend themselves. Farm tools became ferocious killing implements (sai, tonfa, nunchaku, and my favorite, the slashing kama). All got popular around that time.
Those must’ve been good times – clean undisturbed beaches, Chinese and Japanese cash coming across the waves, sugar cane, Eisa – all that stuff. But good times never last. Eventually the Japanese 政府government - rolled en masse. I believe that was around the end of the 19th century. Okinawa was forced to wear the Japanese clothing. They haven’t taken it off since.
Things got bad from there. Confused islanders were forced to adapt – then foreign – Japanese customs, traditions, and language overnight. Any resistance was swiftly (and sometimes ruthlessly) put down like a disobedient dog. This was the first modern deathwave to hit the island. The second arrived some half a century later during World War II.
From March 1945 to June 1945, the island was razed into a sub-tropical hellscape. A “Typhoon of Steel” (I heard it was called) ripped through the land as bloody and brutal as a bear tearing into the flesh of a doe. There was no escape for many of the civilians. Forced to fight, hide, or die: many resorted to mass suicide. Fathers drowned sons. Mothers bashed babies – this ugly face of human slaughter gave us many ghosts – good and bad that haunt the forested hills and caves. (One could be following you or I right now. A chilling thought. Of the over 250,000 souls lost, many still search for peace.
That catastrophe changed Okinawa forever. It paved the way for our heavy footprint here. It wasn’t just an imprint in the sand. The heart and the body of Okinawa are not solely Ryukyuan, Chinese, Japanese, or American. It’s an unidentified fusion of ideas, identity, and culture crossbred by fate.
But you know what I think? All that hurt didn’t just disappear. Spirits and screams congealed in the air, tombs, うたき, and ruins surrounding us. Every breath you and I take draws them in and gives them life. That’s how they live.
I apologize if my telling of the above was off. I’m dead tired. Back stiff, vision night-fogged – yet somehow my mind and fingers are flying. I’ve trained myself to not look at the corner – no more corners. Nothing to see there anyway. Maybe that’s why I keep writing. If I stop, I’ll be tempted to do it. Don’t break now! I’ve got a two hour no-look streak going. All I hear is James’s gentle snoozing and the night bugs chirping outside the window.
At the end of the day, I’m no history teacher. I’m just a country girl who listened to days’ worth of podcasts on the subject. For what? Because things started coming back to me here. The soil shot up my sneakers straight into my veins. I figured I’d start investigating why. Here’s my attempt.
I didn’t know any of this before I arrived, by the way. Like most I flew in on the rotator. Crammed between a sweaty young Marine busy making mean faces at his Nintendo Switch and a shrieking child, I flew alone. James had gone ahead to check into his unit, the base Air Refueling Squadron because they were critically manned. He started work before signing in. Things often went that way. Him in the air, me in the rear. That trip wasn’t fun or easy.
Even though I was uncomfortable as hell, I’ll never forget the view from the plane that first time – blues from the sky brushed white waves which blended into turquoise reefs while smacking on sighing beaches; everything was a resplendent キラキラ reflecting the sunstruck shine in my eyes as I gazed down at the closest thing to paradise in my 36 years on this planet.
(And by the way, I don’t speak a lick of Japanese. I’m way too White and American for that. But I saw that word on a green bottle in the cleaning aisle at Aeon. Wanted to test it out here.)
Okinawa is a mother; sheltering secrets, secreting shelters as she provides a panoply of protection for her people. Now I’m one of them, even if only for a few years. Her touch guides all souls – living or beyond – that call her home. But I can’t help but feel like an unwanted stepchild at times. Another day gone in a flash. The last one before James’s surprise TDY.
***
This morning I woke up with the island お母さん’s energy burning through my blood. The evil eyes in the corner (if they really were there) were my guilt staring down the source of that careless comment I made last night. How could I say such things to the man who’s been nothing be good to me? It wasn’t right. So after lying next to his sleeping form, early dawn blues replacing the dark of the night, I rolled toward him to make it up to him.
A wildfire of want burst in my belly; heat spread to hands. Fingers slid up his coarse leg hair until I found the smooth softness of his “little man.” A few squeezes, spits, and strokes got him to grow up in a hurry. About then, James realized what was happening. His hips began to bob rhythmically while he released throaty moans into the air. That made me drip and dip faster on his throbbing piece. Mid pump, his steady grip raised me up. For several breathless seconds, we locked eyes ready to tap into that bottomless wellspring of familiar intimacy. Our tongues invaded each others’ mouths – I gasped as he pushed up into me – pleasant surprise. He rocked me hard, grabbed my breasts, then pumped, pumped, and pumped until I was sure my heart would pop out of my chest to beat next to his. My back arched as I screamed. With strong hands he slid me off. I got a glimpse of his twitching belly button just before he erupted with a great groan. I leaned down to take in his shooting streams. When that gooey warmth traveled down to my stomach, I was satisfied. So was he.
Then a door slammed somewhere in the house. We both froze. A loud metallic bang followed.
Still winded, I asked, “Didn’t you lock the back door?”
“I was sure I did… I’ll go check.” He made himself decent, then exited the room, closing the door behind him. I sat naked on the bed, unsure whether to wash up or wait. I waited. Then waited some more. Nothing. My vision drifted toward the corner where a pile of crumpled laundry lay in disorder. I caught myself at the last second. I looked hard at my knees. They were shaking.
“James?”
Seconds later I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My breathing shortened. Without thinking, I covered myself with the blanket.
“James, is that you?”
The door opened and James entered with a sullen expression.
I let out the long breath I’d unconsciously inhaled. “Oh James, thank God…” Then I noticed his eyes. They appeared crooked. Not right somehow. I scooted back toward the headboard. “Well, was it the door? Wait… what happened to your eyes?”
“Z, Z, it’s bad…” he said, “it was THE ghost of Okinawa.” He extended his arms and let his hands go limp. He took lumbering steps to the bed.
I pulled my knees toward my chest. “James, are you-?”
“Z, I’m kidding! It was the door, guess I forgot to latch it last night while I was in my funk.”
“And what about the metal sound?”
“A pot fell out of the cupboard. I guess I didn’t push it all the way in last night. My bad.”
“James Anthony Marlowe! You asshole!”
“Y’know what else the ghost told me?”
“What?”
“That if we do what we just did one more time, he’ll never haunt us again.”
A laugh sputtered from my lips. “James, you’re impossible!”
“’Fuck for good luck’, is what he said. Direct quote. What? Why are you lookin’ at me like that? I swear it’s true.”
“Oh come ere’.”
Then we did it again. But it wasn’t like the first time. In fact how it went is the reason I’m up now in the near dark hours before dawn writing this long entry.
Upon contact, James’s usually warm skin turned clammy like he’d been in the sea too long. His flesh deadened a dust gray, peeled, then flaked off in serpentine sheets. The rest of him continued the grotesque metamorphosis. His hair coralized into stabby bones; soft digits dried as if bleached like stone under the sun; teeth serrated as his tongue elongated releasing a dog-breath stench. Worst was the eyes. Those heavenly hazel orbs – normally clear and sharp as a fine diamond – blemished, fading into the jaundiced slits of the corner beast.
Without a word of warning, I pushed out of bed and into the bathroom. I was sure to shut the door and click the lock behind me to hide my terror.
“Z! I-I’m sorry. It was a stupid joke.”
After a few minutes, I took a long blazing shower. It was somewhat helpful, but the shadow of dread remained.
I opened the door to find James, normal and handsome, with pancakes and bacon (my favorite) waiting.
The food tasted fine, but the disturbing memory of his monstrous 顔 face is still making my hand shake now.
Chapter 4
When the first punch flew, it missed. The second one didn’t. A crowd formed. Phones up. Rolling and streaming. Among the Wednesday lunchtime throng, my initiation bout began.
Principal Kane stood beside me. Shoulders calm, but shifting weight from right to left foot every now and then. He viewed the scene with tight lips.
“Think you can handle it?” he asked.
I took a small step forward. “Yeah, sure.”
“Go get em’.” (Don’t screw this up.) – That was the undertone of his voice. I swallowed nerves before I stepped into the fray.
Fight! Fight! Fight! Students stood on chairs, tables, and shoulders to get a clearer view of the worsening brawl. That classic schoolyard chant echoed like a chorus from taut vocal cords.
I pushed my way through. “Move! Make way!” As I approached, I weighed my options for breaking up the battle.
Was it okay to touch them? Yelling was fair game.
Would I get hit? That wouldn’t be good. What if one of the kids got hurt? I could be sued. Maybe. Then I’d be booted off island faster than a castaway on Survivor – fire snuffed out; James would lose his assignment, that would make him resentful then the divorce papers would come in the mail that means hearing his mother – “See, I told you she was no good son” What would I do from there?
I was in the circle. Sweaty, undeodorized youth, surrounding and uncouth – 塩を送る. Things got worse. Shoved. Elbowed. Jostled. Did someone touch my ass? The two combatants postured and flung insults in the center.
Fighter number one was stringy with a long head. The other was a built Black kid. One I immediately recognized.
“Ethan!” I called through the noise. He didn’t seem to hear.
One hand balled tight prepared to strike. The other pointed accusatorily at his opponent.
“You put yo hands on my girl!? And you tagged me! You gonna have to answer for that!” Spit flew from Ethan’s lips.
The spindly one didn’t back down despite his size disadvantage. The way he stood – like a car with no gas during a blustering typhoon, ready to flip and fly out of control – made me take caution. He said, “You guys were broken up. She was fair game. You gonna hit me? C’mon do it!”
Ethan raised his fist, “Nothing gave you the right! You gonna get it now!”
“Ethan stop!!” I moved in, but everyone got quiet. In the beat of a fly’s wing, that tall lanky kid was down.
***
“What were you thinking!?” Principal Kane asked. His lip adopted a tremor. Probably as a result of keeping what he really wanted to say in check. He glared at me in disappointed fury. “Well?”
“I, uh… I guess I just freaked out. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Miss Marlowe ‘sorry’ won’t clean the blood off of the cafeteria floor or magically repair that boy’s tooth.”
No words registered. There was a smell though. Faint, oily, very chemical. I wondered where it was coming from.
“Hello! Earth to Zena!” He put his hands on his desk, then on his lap and back again. When I noticed his visible anxiety, he clasped them together with so much force I thought the capillaries in his fingers might leak. Otherwise, he might have swept all the contents of his desk onto the carpet in irritation.
“As VP you need to make the tough calls on the spot. Enforcing our no-fighting policy is a big part of that. What held you back from intervening sooner?”
“I was just afraid to… to touch em’ . Those boys, Sir y’know how sensitive everyone is these days. About sexual harassment and such—”
“I get it. And I applaud you for upholding that policy, but you must think on your feet. The safety of the students is paramount. If one is in danger of physical harm, even if it’s from another student, you do want it takes to maintain safety and security. And yes, that means physical intervention – if necessary. Do you understand?”
When I nodded, the smell hit me again. Pungent, acidic. It was rotten. A roadkilled skunk baking on a hot Texas highway in the Hill Country, doused in bleach, covered in rat droppings that feasted on it following the falcons. O Saint of Smells why do you torture me so?
If held my breath any longer, I might pass out. “Excuse me, but do you smell that?”
When the question registered, his features immediately melted. A flash of surprise swept across his face. The hands stopped straining then disappeared into his lap.
“Miss Marlowe you are dismissed.”
Chapter 5
I have a rule at 学校school: only believe students fifty percent of the time. Most of the time what they say is unchecked emotion. They’re pachinko machines minus the glass shield: nothing to prevent the pebble-sized balls from spilling onto the floor and causing chaos. But based on everything that happened recently, her believability jumped by at least twenty percent.
Only seven days have passed since those tears of red wet the desks. The empty stares that stirred my gut continued to glower in the glow of lamplight at home or school. James flew off already. So being home alone was sitting in an abandoned parking garage in early morning. Lights out. Dark around. Only murmurs of men on the hunt for easy prey. Shaking sheep to the waiting wolf – that was me.
The only way to evade it was to find the source of insanity. But I had no idea where (or how) to begin until that student walked in. She found me as I returned from lunch. The sun was nearing its zenith, wrapping me in a blanket of humidity as I took quick steps toward the cafeteria entrance (and the air con within). I tongue-swept a piece of wayward wakame seaweed from my teeth when I heard my name.
“Miss Marlowe! Miss… Marlowe!” The voice came out between heavy gasps.
I turned somewhat startled. “Oh Cyan! What’s the rush?”
“I need… to talk to you…”
“Alright, alright. Hold your horses. Just breathe first.”
“Okay sorry… I wanted to find you before lunch was over.” She straightened her posture, calmed down. Even at her tallest she was chest-height in front of me. With two fingers she removed a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her forehead then tucked it behind her ear to situate herself.
“Better?”
“Yeah, now I am.”
“What’s going on?”
Her head darted around in frantic arcs. Other kids passed by near the school’s entrance. They laughed, shared videos on their phones (that they weren’t supposed to have), or did last minute homework before the fast-approaching lunch bell. Cyan’s posture scrunched as she leaned in conspicuously.
“Not here. Can we talk somewhere [whips head around again] more private?”
“Oh… okay sure.” She followed me inside. As we navigated the bustling hallways to my room, I had a “closing-in” sensation. The heat of hundreds of bodies, crammed in claustrophobic corridors made my temperature rise. A shunt of tightness constricted my movement but sped up the flow of my thoughts. Whenever a student wanted to talk in private, it was rarely about how overjoyed they were about receiving straight A’s.
Secure in the classroom, I shut the door. “Okay Cyan, what’s goin’ on?”
“Miss Marlowe, I think there’s something weird going on at this school… something… scary.”
A hard cough wanted to come up. But I clenched my stomach to suppress it. I focused on Cyan.
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, some of my friends have been acting kinda off. It’s almost like they’re different people overnight! I got worried, so I thought I’d let you know.”
“Cyan are you sure? This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Ethan’s fight yesterday—”
“But Miss Marlowe, you know he’d never hit another student like that. He looks big and kinda mean, but you know he’s a softy.”
I flashed skepticism. The fifty percent rule was in full effect. “How are you two doin’? A little bird told me they were fighting over you.”
“Really? Wow that’s a smart bird. Was it a parrot? Aren’t those the ones that can talk?”
“Cyan it’s a figure of speech, an idiom. We covered those last year, remember?”
“Oh right! I guess I forgot!”
I shook my head. “Who’s that other boy? The tall one who got hit.”
“Oh that’s Reed,” she said dismissively. “We only made out like once and he thinks we’re together. Stalker!”
“Right.” I laughed but my bullshit meter was active and rising.
“But for real Miss Marlowe, it’s not just Ethan. I was on my way to Cheer and I remember because I was wearing my brand new pink, white, and orange running shoes. The ones that are so soft and comfortable.”
I glanced at the clock. Only ten minutes of lunch left.
“Anyway, that’s when I overheard Principal Kane outside the front office. He was talking to someone I didn’t recognize, a woman, she looked like she could be a Spanish teacher or something but not like the one I had last year. But Miss Marlowe, he said something about “enhancing” student performance. So scary!”
Principal Kane!
Like a magnet flipped to an opposing pole, my gaze drifted toward the corner. It was almost time for the bell.
Cyan read my reaction.
“Yeah I thought it was weird too!”
My pulsed picked up. “Do you remember smellin’ anything? Like a strong chemical smell?”
She put on her most serious face to ponder my question. Meanwhile, I worked with the strength of a bull before a 闘牛 to prevent overeagerness from charging to a response. Students were already lined up in the hallway. A signal of lunch’s end.
“Yes! I do remember smelling some musty rotten egg smell. Although that could have been me. See, I’d left one of those Family Mart egg, mayo, and cheese sandwiches in my bag and forgotten to throw it out. The heat made it disgusting! So… I could be wrong—”
The bell rang right at that moment. My eye flicked toward the door. Students began to pour in. Was Cyan right? When I looked back at her for quick clarification, something in her expression changed. It was a rapid sunset on an overcast evening, threatening thunder before the long night.
“Oh darn! Okay I gotta go! See you in class tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know – to keep your soul pure. To stop the nightmares. To prevent the piercing reds from roasting your psyche, sentencing you to an eternity of damned hellfire, where vultures eviscerate your entrails and drag them through sewer-watered gutters. I told you to save your soul.”
Chapter 6
These are the dealings of 人間 humans. A messy cluster of saline, lined with feelings. Animalistically simple, cosmically complex, they fatten themselves for us waiting to be devoured. But it is not time. You can’t move too swift in the wind of chase. Patience, for your time to feed has not yet come.
Until that day, be as vigilant as the predator bird. Freeze, watch – stay perched in steady vigil above them. Only then will their screams rise like music from the greatest crooners.
おぉ, but you are reluctant to feed? To hound them until they pluck every last hair from unexplained mania? ばか! You are foolish to be so sympathetic. I shall state clearly why.
Briefly – they know not how to administer themselves. Given a ball of gold, they would rust, tarnish, or otherwise squander the precious gift. In relative comfort, their flesh and egos swell; the blood of the past quickly dries into foundations of meaningless progress. That’s what they do.
しかし, you and I are different.
You say you must go? Then be off. Tail on the two that deliver us into the world of men. Take not this mission lightly.
***
Two humans met near dusk on a rainy evening. Location: a popular eatery with a bright yellow sign that read: “Coco’s Curry.”
Through pelting rain, a woman: ample stature, red-streaked brown hair, skin the color of a bleached 10 yen piece – walked fast toward the entrance. Before entering, her head swiveled side to side with casual swings. Is she being pursued? Or surveilled? No one around seemed to notice.
Inside now. There was a man with a similar body aura as her. He wore a pathetically jumbled suit. His face was waxen and sheened, hovering above a plate of steaming pork cutlet curry. Not long after, the woman arrived at his table.
The following is a transcript of what they discussed:
[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]
“Debora, you’re late.”
“Oh Victor do you know nothing of discretion? I had to make sure I wasn’t followed. OSI and its agents has been sniffing around lately.”
“They suspect something!?” [the man appears hot]
“Calm down. And no, they don’t. And they won’t if you cool it.” [she crosses her legs casually] “But we need to be careful. The first experiment was successful, but there were some… complications…”
“Complications? Like what?”
“Many students have been exposed to minor chemical leaks. There was an incident where blood came from their eyes in one teacher’s rooms.”
“Yes, yes, I know about that one.” [man takes a bite of food, but struggles to swallow. coughs. dabs his forehead with a napkin.]
“Have you been in touch with your, eh hem, ‘POC’?”
“Not yet.”
“Debora!”
“Shh! Lower your voice.” [man softens his tone. leans in.]
“Debora, I can’t imagine they’ll be happy about this. Didn’t he or whatever-the-hell-it-is say they wanted no indicators?”
“Yes Victor, I remember well. But these things happen in extraordinary circumstances. After all, we’re dealing with forces beyond our control or understanding. I expected something like this.”
“Well I didn’t. You said all would be taken care of! And I think you’re being too flippant. We’re talking about demons for God’s sake! I-I’m not even sure I can believe it.”
[she leans in toward him. the man’s palms are glossy, his fork falls to the table making a clatter. an elderly Japanese couple in a nearby booth looks over in surprise before returning to their meal.]
[woman gently touches his hand. man’s posture relaxes.]
“Oh Victor it’ll be fine. I will take care of my side. But don’t forget our goal and our deal. You help me make contact, I help you enhance the performance of your school. Get those green dragons down at Foster off your tail for good, right?”
[the man looks resigned, then nods weakly. woman backs off.]
[she continues.]
“Believe or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”
“I-I don’t know what to believe anymore…”
“Then just believe in me. Is that enough?”
“Y-yes, it can be.”
“Good. Because there’s one more test. It’ll happen before the end of the week. Can you have your facility prepped by then?”
[man exhales heavily.] “Yes, I can.”
[woman stands to leave, then smooths the wrinkles from her dress. man’s gaze follows the path of her hands.]
“Victor, we’ve got this, but don’t screw it up. Everything we’ve worked for depends on it.”
[END TRANSCRIPT]
Being a 軍人military spouse is a lot of waiting.
Waiting to come. Waiting to go. Waiting for the kids we’d sacrificed for his career. Delayed vacations and celebrations, extended moments of emptiness spun the clock. Check the phone, dinner, and the wash – no changes.
Distract with books, food, friends (when you had them) and gym; sleep alone until they creep in soundfully in the night again.
Patience to put him first, while squeezing small joys among the noise, only to have it strained, lost, then found to do it again. No one knows your name. You can’t remember theirs. Memories die by the multitude in this life. Days pass in seasons in the house.
That’s the life of a military spouse.
Blind belief in periods of jubilee punctuate the pain. Stillness is the enemy. Yumi knew that. But still, the “life” wasn’t for her. I don’t blame her for getting out early. There’d be no early dismissal for me. I was trapped. Pride, tradition, duty, God-love held me in. It wouldn’t let me leave. Much like the ghosts that swirled somewhere around me, I was a prisoner of the place. Doomed to stay until the gates flew free for release.
“Hey are you alright?” Yumi asked.
We were in her room in the back wing. Outside the windows a windless day warped air above the blazing sidewalks. I’d gone to eat lunch with her, just to get away from my desk for a bit. But I wasn’t hungry. Instead, I ended up staring out the window while my minded drifted. That’s when Yumi floated back in. Only when she spoke up did I realize she was there.
“Yeah… I’m fine, just thinkin’ too much y’know?”
“Looks like it. Your eyes looked like the kids after they had Popeye’s for lunch. Yuck!”
Her quip got me to crack a short smile, but it didn’t last.
“Okay, what’s really going on?” She said as she fiddled with her phone.
“It’s about what Cyan told me the other day about them odd smells.”
“Oh that? You know how these students are. They see a monster around every corner. Probably just an exaggeration. Or one of those spoiled Lawson’s sandwiches. That’s why I’m ride or die Family Mart till’ the end.”
Was it an overreaction? Something in my gut told me it wasn’t. It wasn’t just her words that had me worried.
It was how her sweet face had soured when she said those final words to me. She’d become something ominous. The way the light hit her face folded and died as if afflicted by some photon feeder, made me start to doubt the truth in my words.
I didn’t mention any of this to Yumi. She was busy raising her phone to the window, spinning for a signal.
“You know it works best in the parkin’ lot right?” I said with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah I know. But I really wanna know what this guy said. Fuck. I got two students coming in for test retakes in less than five minutes. Looks like no lunch for me today!”
Her classroom was an atlas. Instead of boring textbook photos of various locations, she had enlarged prints of pictures she’d snapped during her (mostly solo) international adventures. Paris, Barcelona, Saigon, Nepal – appeared as still doors for students to imagine themselves there. The most prominent display was a topographic map of Japan. ‘日本’ it read at the head of the poster. She pasted various letters from the complex Japanese writing systems around the room. I found the arrangement dizzying, borderline distracting, but she claimed the students enjoyed it.
“Is this the guy from the other night?”
“Yeah, it’s him.”
I crept over and gently pulled her arm toward her desk.
“Well, spill the tea, how’d it go?”
“He was nice. We fucked. Now I wanna find out if he’s a ‘love motel’ or ‘sweats and Taco Bell’ kinda guy.”
I squealed happiness. Then we exchanged hugs and high fives.
I lowered my voice to a near whisper, “Well… how was he? Cucumber or chapstick?”
Yumi smirked, “Closer to a carrot, but he gave me the stick. His Black side came to play. Ha!”
“Wow, the single life… you go. The way you’re still out there. It’s amazin’. I’m a little jealous.”
“Somebody’s gotta turn these boys to men. You know after my divorce, I told myself I’d never hold myself in like I did for all those years. I was a typical young Japanese bride, sweet and silent. It wasn’t him. It was me. I had to figure out what I wanted. Eventually, I did.” She spun in her chair and viewed the white ceiling. “It has its highs, but it can be terribly lonely at times.”
I stayed silent. The news of James’s next TDY flashed in my mind. He was probably in the air or with the boys or doing whatever pilots did when they were away from their significant others unsupervised. I dropped the thought.
Yumi sighed. “But whenever I think about my first marriage, I think this life is better for me. In fact, I know it. Less drama, less money, and much more meat selection.”
I spit laughter. As I did, the door to Yumi’s classroom opened. We turned expecting her students.
But there was no one in the hallway.
Chapter 8
「誰かがいますか?」“Hello?” I called.
Yumi and I exchanged glances of rising dread. It was one of those moments when fear – focused and shaking – magnifies the mood. Like during middle school sleepovers when we’d chant, “Bloody Mary”, “Bloody Mary”, “Bloody Mary”, in the dark together. The fright heightened our vibrating spirits. A prank that strengthened the bonds of our friendship.
But this wasn’t a game.
I stood. Almost seductively drawn to that gaping portal to the outside, when not one, but two students emerged. One, a girl, draped in black clothing (wasn’t she hot outside in all that)? The other, a boy, wearing a clashing t-shirt and shorts—both garments similarly wrinkled. The duo shared a body type: tall and fleshy, but the girl was slightly shorter.
The girl spoke first with an unhurried pace. “Hey Miss Marlowe.” “Yo, Miss Marlowe. And Miss Uehara.” The boy gave a bow. His classmate flashed a condescending glare at the gesture.
I exhaled relief. “Hey Jordan. Hi Lily. What’s the deal with openin’ the door and not comin’ in?”
Lily cast another frosty glance at Jordan, then replied, “Well I opened it, but SOMEBODY was late as usual.”
“Okay, guilty. But that wasn’t the only reason.” Jordan’s expression wasn’t rattled at all.
Then they both approached Yumi’s desk. Their wide frames brushed the students’ seats on their way over.
When they were close enough, Lily’s face darkened. “We ran into Cyan, as we were coming in. She told us about the weird smells she’s been sniffing out y’know?”
Cyan the chatterbox. Of course.
“Mhmm and?”
“We smelled it too,” Jordan said.
Lily nodded. “It’s true. But not just on Principal Kane. I think… we found the room where it’s coming from.”
I knew they were waiting for my reaction; approval for sleuthing well done. I didn’t speak for a while. Lily clutched the straps of her backpack as she dug the toe of her shoe into the carpet. Jordan stared out the window.
“I appreciate the information Lily, but I can’t have you involved in this. I’m not exactly sure what’s goin’ on, but I don’t want to be settin’ y’all into any danger.”
Lily was crestfallen. “But Miss Marlowe, what if it’s something that affects not just the school, but something bigger?”
“Yeah, it’s like one of those conspiracies, except it’s real,” Jordan added.
I went over to them. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. I don’t want to hear anymore about this from y’all. Jus’ concentrate on school.”
I nearly nudged them out the door in haste. I didn’t know what else to do.
Jordan strolled in the direction of the door. He said to Yumi, “But what about our makeup test?”
I threw her a desperate look. She glanced at the clock on the back wall.
“Looks like it’ll have to wait. Lunch is almost over now, you’d better hurry to your next class.”
Jordan shrugged. “Got it.”
Lily walked behind him to the door. He left, but she lingered for a second. Something in her gaze was grave.
“What is it, Lily?”
“Alright, we’ll head to class, but watch out for room 122.”
Humans are sucking 畜生 creatures. That’s what makes them so delightfully fascinating. Unknowingly, they spend their entire lives in search of the next font of sweet, sweet sustenance to line their stomachs. But their hunger is never completely satiated. Endless lust for the teet consumes them. I would give them one ever flowing. Stroking, cooing, encouraging until their lips drip with excess; the gaze grayed with smiling giddiness. Then turn them away to ambitions of the day. All the while whispering incestuously in their ear, flowering that implanted seed with warm words and dewy declarations. “You are clean. You are safe. You are beautiful. You are powerful. You are worthy. You are blessed.” Whatever they want to hear I provide.
When they return, they are mine. Because who would refuse such a mighty resource? Only one so brave – or foolish. Most humans are lambs. Once fed and fattened, easily sheared and slaughtered – that’s how I like them. This young group gathers in secret. Danger makes the mabui shine, blood divine. For now, I watch and wait.
***
Two teens met outside of Room 122, after the school halls were clear and the sun was low.
One was tall, dark-skinned, and deliciously muscular.
The other, a girl, was short with long legs and lashes with healthy endowments. This is what I heard them say:
“Ethan, what took you so long?” she said. Her voice was hurried yet hushed.
“My bad, had to ‘borrow’ the key from Coach. Plus, I’m still supposed to be suspended, remember?”
“Oh yeah. Why’d you have to hit him so hard? You know how fragile he is. He’s like my Mom’s shot glass collection.”
“Anything I do, I go all in.”
“Yeah? Then what happened with us?”
“Aw c’mon Cyan, not this ol’ thing again, that’s different—"
“Oh my God, do you hear that?”
“What? Why you so jumpy all a sudden?”
“Someone’s coming!”
“Shit!”
Two sets of footsteps approached their confused faces. They looked left and right, then darted behind the nearest hiding spot. Crouched close their skin touched. Her face bloomed red. His breath sped up. “Cyan? Ethan? I can still see both of your dumbasses over there.”
“Oh Lily! Thank God it’s you! I thought you were Principal Kane or something. How’d you see us?”
“Uh Cyan, the water fountain’s a pretty shitty hiding spot for two people.”
“Oh… right. I guess not… Anyway, is that Jordan with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m only here because Lily owes me twenty-five dollars.”
“Hey shit-for-brains, that phone case was only twenty dollars.”
“Ever heard of inflation? My folks complain about it all the time. But it’s good when you’re the one collectin’ the cash.”
“Ugh, you’re such an asshole.”
“Alright, alright can we just get this over wit? I cannot get caught here on suspension.”
“Okay then tough guy, you go first then.”
The four paused while the air cooled around them. Part of me wondered if they could sense my presence on their backs. Some ancient animal part did (probably). The one all modern humans are enlightened to ignore; too savagely wise, tamed by the constraints of science – their unconscious is deep space to the terrestrially limited mind. They can only catch winks of it in dream or drugged states of euphoria. But never enough to know or acknowledge it. Ignorance (especially of youth) has a blissful aroma.
Ethan said, “Okay let’s do this.”
The jock twisted the knob then entered the room.
Dark and wild described that forbidden 禁じた place. They sensed it as soon as they stepped in. Faces said flee for fear of what they might find – or what would find them. Haha! Seeing them scrunch their faces and backs in shuddering fear made them all the riper! I observed them further as they made their descent down those shadow-clutched steps. Nothing but naivete guided them. No turning back now.
***
“Guys this is too scary! Maybe we should go back!” Cyan said.
Lily placed a hand on her shoulder, then scolded her. “Shh your voice is echoing. Somebody might hear.”
Ethan walked ahead, flashlight in hand. “Can’t believe there was a secret room behind the old chalkboard. No wonder they never opened it up all the way.”
Jordan covered the rear. His heavy steps slapped rough underfoot. “That and it weighs like fifty pounds. Even I can’t open easily.” They continued with caution. “Guys? Do you smell that!? Okay who farted? Lily?”
“If I did, you’d know it.”
Cyan whined, “Smells like dead animals and chemical and stuff. I’m gonna have to wash my hair five times this week! So disgusting!”
Ethan’s voice came from the front. “There’s a room with lights on ahead. Everyone quiet!”
I saw them when they entered the underground lab. Sweat slid down Ethan’s neck. Lily’s black shirt, faded and stained, showed pit pools. Jordan’s breath came out in shallow shots. Cyan shook like a cat in the cold. When the contents of that underground hideaway hit them, their respective physical responses revved up even greater. Such a delightful show!
It was a cold chamber. Thick unpainted concrete boxed it in on all sides. Judging by their faces, they’d never seen—or stepped in—such a dim place before. Tables of dead mice lined the walls. But the specimens were all over, on the floor, in cages, under clinical lights. A mad lab equipped with instruments for occult science stretched before them. But their eyes glowed when they saw the item at the center. As if it were a holy cross in a Christian church, a gleaming crystal ball sat on a square velvet pillow winking between twin burning candles.
“This is horrible!” Cyan said with sadness. “Those poor mice.”
“What’s that crystal ball for?” Jordan asked.
Lily answered, “Calling to spirits from another world. What the hell else would you use one for?”
“For real?”
“Actually, I have no fuckin’ clue. This doesn’t make any sense. It’s like some church-lab-dungeon in here. Super weird.”
“Shit! Someone’s coming! Uh… over there! Dip behind that chem table! Try not to splat the rats.” Ethan led the way to their hiding spot.
Just in time, too. Because three adult figures came down the stairs the moment they ducked. They were so close to being discovered by the ones who come to save us. But there was little they could do. The curvy woman with bronze skin spoke with her Brazilian accent.
“Victor, as you can see, everything is ready for tomorrow.” She gestured toward the crystal ball.
He held his nose. “Damn, all these rats. Smells like a zoo in here. You call this ready?”
She waived her hand dismissively, “Oh Victor, I told you about them already. We’ll have janitorial clean them out in the morning. But I assure you, the compound will be non-lethal for humans. Plus, they’ll be pleased if it goes well. In fact… they might be here right now.”
She scanned the room. But I remained hidden. Along with her unexpected guests. Haha! This game is fun!
Victor spoke with a tremor in his voice. “Debora are you sure this will give them what they want? Are these ‘Ancient Lands’ they’ve been whispering in your ear about even real?”
“Oh, Victor, you worry too much. I believe deep in here they’re real.” She pointed at her exposed cleavage. I like her style.
His gaze followed her finger.
“Victor, save the staring for later. Focus on what we’re doing here. By helping our friend here open the gates, we stand to be rewarded with finest specimens of students: ones cured of ADHD, anxiety, and other maladies of teenage angst. Only a school of superstars will be under your supervision! And I’ll be the supernatural scientist who facilitated your rise. Can you imagine it, Victor?”
“I can.”
“How does it feel?”
“Good. Real good.”
“Jun-san, how do you feel?” she asked the silent man.
The one she referred to as her friend stood with his hands behind his curved back. From under a wide-brimmed straw hat, only his wrinkled lips were visible. Despite his age, his voice was resonant. “I feel good. 今 let’s get on with the practice experiment. Nothing can go wrong tomorrow—wait what was that sound?”
The four students had crept back toward the only exit as a single unit. But not before the big one, Jordan, squelched the head of a decayed mouse under his foot. It cracked then burst, alerting the old man to the young one’s presence.
“Who’s there!?” Principal Kane yelled.
“Student spies!” Debora said. She looked at her partner expectantly. But he didn’t move.
The kids dashed for the entrance. The Japanese man took fast steps toward that glowing crystal ball. Oooh a chase! How thrilling!
“Keep going!” As Ethan ran, he noticed they weren’t being pursued. The group tripped, huffed, and dashed back into the black of the stairs. Jordan’s mouth dropped when he caught a glimpse of the old Japanese man standing behind the glowing round glass ball. The lips lined with an unknown emotion.
The kid was bounding up the stairs when the man closed his eyes and flapped his lips fervently, chanting some unknown words, as he rolled the ball on the tiny pillow.
Meanwhile on the stairs, the students put distance between them and the lab. But they were too slow. From below, a purple wall of light shot from the back. It traveled up the stairs at light speed. Ethan winced when it washed over him.
“Shit!”
One by one the others’ faces reacted similarly as that wonderful wave hit them, too. Eventually they reached the relative safety of room 122.
Jordan slammed the chalkboard shut as everyone panted from their flight.
“Everybody [pant] in one piece?”
“Yeah… that was close,” Lily replied, “Cyan… you got it recorded right? Maybe [breathing hard] we can take it to Security Forces.”
Her eyes were wet. Lips quivered at a sad angle. “Lily, I was recording it, you saw me, right? I swear I was. But I checked my phone and the file… it’s gone... ”
Their collective fright at the revelation was the fragrance of house-filling fear I was waiting for.
***
My observation ends here. They’re ripe and ready.
I told them not to go 行かないで (even though I wanted to discover that place for myself). Lily’s information aroused a yearning curiosity even I wasn’t aware of from the root of my soul. Was my mother sleeping there? That alien terrain – brown, frosted from an ancient asteroid impacted, exploded, packed down, forming a pact past to future – was scarred by something I don’t know. No matter how foreign it seemed, I still wanted see it for myself.
Why did they go?
I, the teacher. Them, students – we played our respective parts. Me conveying; them disobeying, as nature intended.
I read it on their faces, as clear as the words on this screen. They’d seen something. A horrible happening. The dark rings rounding their eyes framed the stuck images that robbed them of nightly rest. It didn’t take long for the truth to come out.
***
It was 金曜日 (Friday), but something was stirring in the air. A strange energy roamed in rolling columns behind students and stacks of books. I had a bad feeling. 最近 given everything that had happened, I was right to feel anxious electricity skimming just beneath my skin like trapped mosquitoes, ready to suck then spit debilitating disease in coordinated attack.
Outside of my classroom a burning bright day illuminated the room. But I paid it no attention. All I saw were four sullen faces looking anywhere but at me. Just as I was forming my first word, Ethan started.
“But Miss Marlowe, I can explain—"
“Ethan, don’t speak. You shouldn’t even’ve been on campus. Your suspension was up just today." I managed to keep my voice low, but it all fell out of my mouth barely contained. He lowered his head. A shadow of shame made his usual grin invisible.
“And you, Cyan, what were you thinkin’? You’re supposed to be the responsible one!”
“I am?”
I flashed her my ‘don’t-play-dumb’ look.
“Oh right! Uh… I’m really sorry…”
“Lily, Jordan, I ‘ppreciate what you told me yesterday, but what if you’d gotten hurt!?”
Jordan said nothing.
Lily looked up. “…but we got a video of it. Principal Kane and that lady were talking to some Japanese guy—"
“Then he got behind a ‘magic’ crystal ball that shot out a purple wall of light as you ran away. You expect me to believe that? Y’expect anyone else to without evidence!?”
Cyan was red-faced with pre-tear tugs at her temples stealing her usual sunshiny cheer, “But Miss Marlowe [crying] we… we, I mean, I recorded it. I swear, but [sniff] that purple light erased it… I don’t know what happened. I’m telling the truth.”
Ethan rubbed her back in a sweet gesture. It almost made me soften my tone. But when I saw a new student enter the room, it set me off again.
“And then you dragged ANOTHER student into this. Well? Why are you here?”
Lily raised her hand low. “I told him about it because—"
“I wasn’t addressin’ you. I wanna hear it from him. Well? Whaddya have to say?”
He was a skinny shaky Japanese kid with black glasses. The resolute gleam in his eye contrasted with the acne-dotted complexion.
“It’s because she thought I might be able to explain what happened.”
“Because you’re from 沖縄?” (I wrote “Okinawa” just now but 沖縄 came out instead. I went back to change it several times, but it just kept changing back. After the tenth time I moved on. Must be some software glitch.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. And your name?”
“I’m 比嘉天豪 (Higa Tengo), but I go by just Tengo. よろしくお願いします.”
He gave a shallow bow. It felt so… official. My tone softened a teensy bit. I was prepared to question him further when a thought struck me.
Damn! There’ll be a fire drill today.
They always had them on Fridays. I always thought scheduled drills defeated the purpose of preparation. Real emergencies never announced themselves. They rushed in and forced you to react, then left you reaching to decode cause and effect. Was it happening in the afternoon or the morning? Suddenly the squeeze of seconds heightened my awareness of limited time.
“Well, Tengo, what do you know?”
He took a small step forward. His Adam’s apple bobbed before he answered.
“Okinawa is famous for superstition and ghost stories. I heard one when I was kid. It was about the legend of seven spirits that governed the islands in the time before man.”
All eyes were on Tengo now. I’d become so engrossed by his intro I had to remind myself to 息をする (breathe?) between glances at the clock.
“Go on…” I said.
“Well, Ma’am, the way I heard it was those seven beings were like gods. They existed in harmony with each other. But one day, the seventh one – who was more powerful than the others – decided to take these islands to form a unified kingdom. He consulted with the other six, but they didn’t agree with his plan. Angered, he invited the others to a celebration of friendship where he deceived them by poisoning their drinks.”
“That’s pretty fucked up,” Lily said.
“So terrible!” Cyan said with damp eyes.
I nodded in acknowledgement. “So, what happened next?”
“Well… I forgot the specifics, but it ends with all seven of them being cast out of the islands into the ‘dark wilderness.’ It’s said that there are hidden doors around the island where they can enter our world – that’s all I know. It’s only a story though.”
Jordan leaned back on the ask, “Damn, spirit drama is better than TikTok.”
“Off the desk please!” I said with a scathing tone.
“Oh, my bad.”
Ethan brought his hand to his chin. “Sounds like that story from the Bible. Uh which one was it? The one where they get kicked out of paradise—"
“It’s Adam and Eve, man. She ate from the tree of knowledge and they both got expelled from the Garden of Eden, just like you got suspended the other day. Didn’t you pay attention at all in Sunday School? Or did you just care that Eve was naked?” Lily said with bitterness.
“Oh yeah! Now I remember. She didn’t have no clothes on. And I uh, I may or may not have been too busy high scoring on Angry Birds back then.” Ethan puffed up his chest as he said it.
Jordan threw him a fistbump. “Facts.”
Hard angles lined Cyan’s face when she reached over and pinched his forearm.
“Oww! What was that for?”
“You’re such an idiot sometimes!” She stomped her foot in frustration.
“Alright, alright calm down you two.” A smile appeared on my lips.
I turned my attention to Tengo. "That still doesn't explain the crystal ball and the purple light. Know anything about that?"
He removed his glasses, wiped them with his shirt, then returned them to his face. "I... I know crystal balls are often used as ‘spirit medium.’ Many around the island believe they can facilitate communication between worlds."
I folded my arms. "That makes sense. And the light?"
"I'm not really sure..."
Then an announcement came over the PA system. All of our eyes elevated toward the ceiling. A student aid’s voice, clear and professional, sounded from the speakers.
“Will Miss Marlowe please report to the front office? Miss Marlowe, please report to the front office.”
The summoning I’d been anticipating arrived. A sense of foreboding followed my every footstep to the door. The students’ gaze came with it.
“Get to where you’re supposed to be. No more trouble, hear me?”
I got five flimsy nods before they passed me, then disappeared into the hallway.
That last line was aimed at me just as much as them.
廊下Halls are all different. Some close-in. Others extend. The ones that are a combination of the above freak me out. Especially when they’re spectacularly lit, leaving nothing to the imagination. A lack of dark leaves no place for the secrets of the heart. The ones we need to protect ourselves from the doom of the day.
Heat, not from sweltering humidity, but from some big-eyed serpent, flicked at me fanning insecurity as I walked. Was I being watched? 誰か見るのか？ (How did that get there? – Here we go again with the non-disappearing Japanese words I can’t read.) Drive it out of your mind. Don’t think about it.
As I moved toward the front office, I knew for sure why I was being called up. It could only be two things (I thought). Turns out it was neither.
There I was, back in the Principal’s office. Twice in one week was a lot outside of meetings. The whole space was becoming more familiar to me. The obligatory awards, desk ornaments, and personal photos could have been anyone’s. And that smell. The 悪臭 (I wrote ‘stench’ – I swear) was worse than before. A chemical mix of corrupted fluids—raw ingredients—invaded my nose then infiltrated my lungs until it singed the sacs of air with invisible fire. My eyes watered. I coughed as I took my seat across from Principal Kane. He viewed me with suspicion.
“How are you feeling Zena? You look unwell.”
“I’m alright. Just caught a little bug this week.” I raised my hand to my mouth to conceal another cough.
“Might want to get a mask. You know COVID is still going around.”
I gave a shallow nod. “I will Sir. You wanted to see me about somethin’?”
He glanced at his watch. A semi-stylish linked piece, the color of a nickel. It looked fancy, though he probably got it on sale at the BX.
“Yes. It’s news you’ll want to hear. You’ve been selected as a Vice Principal candidate for next year!” He smiled wide and lifted his arms.
Blood filled my face. “Oh wow! I don’t… I didn’t expect it after what happened earlier this week.”
He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh that? Everyone has areas of growth. That one’s yours. Here, have a celebratory さんぴん茶.”
Principal Kane reached over to a mini-fridge beside his desk, pulled out two refreshingly bright yellow cans adorned with smiling Shisas, then passed one to me.
“These are my favorite,” he said, “a sufficiently neutral taste. Not too busy, mouth meddling, or sweet - you know what I mean?”
There was a moment where the ratio of light to shadow on his face dipped to the dark side. A partial eclipse. I couldn’t see the other half. Soon the cold can caused goosebumps to shiver up my arm.
“Yeah, I think I get it. I enjoy it too. So… what’s next?”
He took a controlled sip of his drink before consulting his watch again. “Well, we’ll need to find a replacement to teach your class. That’s already in the works, though. This school year only has three weeks to go, so you’ll need to say goodbye to all your favorite students. Haw haw.” His laugh came out in uneven puffs.
Then it came again. Another face blackout. Watch check.
I tried to channel the tea’s neutrality. It didn’t work. Discomfort bled through; dripped like the sweat from the can onto my lap.
“I understand. That’s the price of promotion, I guess.”
Sip. Check. His expression mirrored mine. “It is. I remember when I left the classroom for admin. It was hard at first, but soon the increase in pay and the perks? Those more than made up for it! Haw haw!”
An awkward pause stifled the air like the stench surrounding us. Nothing moved except for the hands on his watch.
“Zena… that was a joke.”
“Oh right Sir, haha. Guess I’m just used to a different, well y’know, teacher’s dark humor.”
“Believe it or not, I know what you mean.”
He checked his watch again. Whatever he was waiting for, it wasn’t time yet.
Principal Kane reclined in his chair, but his jaw remained set as if biting down on something hard.
“Have you heard this one: A teacher goes home and tells their spouse, ‘I only put two “B’s” on my class’s report cards.” Spouse responds, “That’s great!” Then the teacher looks at them cynically and says, ‘My Bulletproof vest and Bottle of wine had to go somewhere.’ Haw haw! Get it? They both start with B!”
“Oh, I see. Yeah that’s… pretty dark.”
He flicked his wrist to consult his watch. Instantly, his smile dissolved. Then without warning, he shot out of his chair and went to the door. As soon as he reached it, the fire alarm blared.
With a wave of his arm, he gestured me out. That partial dark on his face was nearly full, but bumps of sweat rose on his forehead. “Looks like our meeting is over.”
“It’s just a drill, right?”
As I hurried out, his facial landscape remained unlit.
Chapter 13
火 Fire has no feeling. Anything it contacts gets consumed (are we any different?)
I joined the procession to the side parking lot. A cloud of humidity smothered me like hands holding a recently slept-on pillow. It took a few deep breaths to avoid suffocation. That, with the unobstructed sun meant the next thirty minutes would be no fun.
Soon I reached my rally point. Unconscious of the growing clamor of students and faculty streaming from the building, I held up the laminated red sheet with my name on it and began to scan for familiar faces.
Lily and Jordan were the first to arrive. Her hands were shoved in her pockets; his feet dragged across the pavement.
Jordan wiped sweat from his 顔. (face) “Man, it’s toasty out here.”
“Quit whining. At least it got us out of class.”
“Hey, I wasn’t ‘whinging’.” A smirk brightened her face. It contrasted heavily against her dark clothes. “Whinging? I said ‘whining.’ Where’d you learn that word?”
He shrugged. “Saw it on some British video last night.”
“You do have something goin’ on up there after all, huh?”
Jordan smiled wide. “Sometimes. When it comes to random shit online, I got it. But biology? Let’s just say the fire saved me. Wait, there’s no real fire, right?”
“It’s just a drill. Same like we do almost every quarter. Don’t be an idiot.”
“You’re prolly right.” Jordan wiped sweaty hands on his shorts as he looked back toward the building. “Oh look there goes, Tengo.”
The wiry Tengo walked over through a patch of grass with a gaggle of students. Even though my head was moving like a bird peeking out of a tree knob taking accountability, seeing him filled me with a heaviness. The kind that rests under miles of salty 海 for untold eras. I didn’t know how to get rid of it. Between the morning’s odd conversations and the line of perspiration sliding down my back, I was in a bad way. Something didn’t feel right.
“Got any new stories this time?” Jordan clapped him on the back so hard his glasses slid down his nose.
“…Not this time.”
Lily crossed her arms, “Jordan, I can’t believe you believe that bullshit. Ghosts and spirits? Might as well be talking about the Tooth Fairy.”
Tengo’s face fell.
“Well, I’m just bein’ safe. That shit was crazy last night. I’m not tryin’ to have some Okinawan curse follow me home. Once they latch on, ain’t enough salt in the world to shake em’ off. That’s what I read on Reddit last night. That right Tengo?” He eyed him quizzically.
“…”
Lily shook her head at Jordan. “Whatever.”
My attention was divided. One side heard the kids in front of me. The other watched my fellow teachers completing their checks. I spied Yumi near the bus drop-off area. She gave a thumbs up with a broad smile. When I didn’t return it, she squeezed her forehead with concern.
It had been nearly ten minutes since the evacuation, and I still wasn’t at full accountability. Principal Kane was nowhere in sight.
Suddenly, I raised my voice over the clusters of students surrounding me. “Has anyone seen Ethan?”
The students shook their heads. A prick of adrenaline got my heart hammering as I scanned the sea of students for the hundredth time.
Then I saw him. He was running toward me, face screwed up in frustration.
“Miss Marlowe [breathes hard] Miss Marlowe… I can’t find Cyan! Did she check in?”
I redid my count. That’s when it hit me – Cyan was missing.
***
Higher and higher, hotter and hotter – fire, fire, fire!
Burning allowed!
I, to call flame was used. Resisting she could not. (The midnight of her eyes, me did tell). Another moth in the net.
Gaa. Gaa
Brilliance’s source I saw. That heated goodness, until black ruin, the walls scorched and scabbed. There our followers only watched. Until the child arrived. So innocent she was – but not for long. Now no longer she screams or cries. Her limp back rises. Eyes shut to the smoke.
誰もいない、ひとりぼっちで怖いのだ。
Gaa! Who in time of suffering to her will come?
***
“Cyan!?”
I had no business being there. I should have waited for Base Fire. But she didn’t have that long. And I already knew where she was.
Room 122.
If outside was a kitchen with the windows shut while roasting a turkey on Thanksgiving, inside was the back of the oven. And I was the baking bird. There isn’t much time.
I held my shirt over my nose to block the smoke. It was halfway effective.
But there was nothing I could do about my eyes. What people forget about fire is the brightness. That disorienting blend of sunset-splashed conflagration confused me. I nearly stumbled against a flaming counter and burned my hands.
The singing song of fire was secondary when I shouldered in. A jolt of pain sparked down my arm. I ignored it.
“Cyan! Oh God!”
She was lying there in front of the heavy chalkboard. From the opening beyond, an eye-battering purple light leaked from the stairway.
They’d been telling the truth.
No time for guilt. I rushed over. Blew out a breath before I shoved a melted desk off her bleeding leg. 悪そうだった。It was bad.
I started to lift her up. Violent coughs shoved my diaphragm against my spine. I released her back to the floor. If I don’t hurry, there’ll be two bodies here.
Tried again. 重すぎ！ Too heavy. Try something else!
I grabbed her arm and pulled for all I was worth. She slid out just a little.
I yanked again, then again – clothes drenched from the searing surroundings. More pulling, then I screamed, “HELP! HELP!” But the crackling inferno swallowed my words. I was on my own.
Coughs hit like blows to the chest. I swear I saw a bat-shaped shadow swinging in the corner. Wings folded, tiny flames under the brown-irised gaze. Was it... laughing? No, no it couldn't be.
I shook my head to clear it. In a blink, the creature was gone. (How much 煙 smoke had I inhaled?)
There was a popping sound, then a loose feeling at Cyan’s level. She became harder to pull.
A wave of coolness hit my back. Then, I fell into the embrace of black.
Chapter 14
After you’ve been 無意識の状態 unconscious for a while, perception becomes a door to a school dance. Everything enters in a single clump. Some enter orderly, others sneak through. Attempt to exercise too much control, you’ll be left sick and tired.
Smells hit me first. A sterile, metallic scent wormed up my nose. That was followed by wave of flower-scented body wash… (someone had been here, probably another woman).
Sounds were next: the soft whirring of an air conditioner spun above; a moderately deep voice faded in quick conversation – words undecipherable; a jovial high note of laughter. They were close, dampened.
Distance was difficult to judge, but there must have been a wall or door between me and the sound waves. Sound. The thought returned me to my body like a transparent spirit given form once again. That’s when it hit me—I was naked. Nothing against my skin except for a bunched-up pair of boxy paper underwear beneath what must have been a thin hospital gown. A machine beeped a warning causing further anxiety.
“Hey! Come quick! She’s waking up!”
I lifted my leaden eyelids to see Yumi’s fuzzy face smiling back at me.
“Yumi?”
“Yeah, it’s me. You remember, right? No amnesia?”
“I remember how many “carrots” you had last week.”
She laughed softly, “A girl’s gotta eat to stay healthy.”
I snickered but stopped as soon as 痛みさん pain made his entrance. My shoulder throbbed with a balloon of swollen soreness. Behind the bandages, the thin skin of my palms thundered with every push of blood. I must have looked terrible, but I attempted to sit up anyway.
Bad idea.
When I did, the monitor went off again. I slumped back down to the overfluffed stack of pillows, head in haze.
“Well, I was gonna ask how you’re feeling, but I’m guessing not great. It should be a little better though,” she leaned in, “I dated one of the ER docs a few weeks ago and asked him to give you the good shit.” She looked as proud as a dog with a fresh caught frisbee in her jaws.
“B-but…”
“Shh, you rest. I’ll call the nurse. I think you’ll like him.” She winked.
I let my head sink further into the pillow from exasperation. “Yumi...”
“Hey! You think James is an Eagle Scout First Class when he’s TDY every minute of the day? Nothing wrong with looking… or sampling. Well for me, not you. For you, it’s ‘look don’t touch’.”
Then the door slid open, and the nurse entered. Towering, broad-chested, dominating eyes - a certified hunk. With gentle hands he set me up took vitals asked me how I was – did all the things a good nurse should. But I had no strength to swoon.
When he was finished, there was no rest. A revolving door of scrub-wearing types followed him: some older Black guy who called himself the “Smoke Doctor;” a woman with a small stammer and strong physique (a school insurance rep); a young soft-looking doctor with a truck-full of hard-to-understand words – apparently, I’d avoided eschar sparing me painful debridement and months of hydrotherapy; a medication tech with a menacing smile was the last one, the line on his lips only relaxed after he claimed a trickle of a urine sample. All came to collect, draw, or extract something from me. It was high school biology, and I was the recently deceased rat. Fumigated, insides open and reeking as onlookers filled vials, made measurements, and ran tests for an invisible grade. When they were done, exhaustion pulled me to the pillow. Where was James? Probably up in the air somewhere over the Marianas. I really wanted to see him. But it wouldn’t happen. Not today. Tears leaked through the levy of medication and fatigue. With pieces of my person in bags and glass, I closed my eyes, took a long drag of cold air. Secure in the dark, memories of what landed me there appeared in flashing images.
Principal Kane.
The smell.
The kids.
Fire.
That flaming ruby-eyed winged creature in the corner. Dangling. Swinging. Laughing.
I kept my eyes shut, but the machine beside me pinged, displaying my distressed physiology and feelings in numbers and lines.
The door opened again. If I have to get one more goddamn test…
“Hey relax, it’s just me. I got you some dinner.” Yumi raised a plastic bag from Subway. “It’s just soup and crackers. I ate half the sandwich already, sorry.”
I returned a weak grin. It was a relief she wasn’t part of the medical staff. “It’s fine… I’m not hungry.”
“Maybe later then.” She set the bag in a corner.
“You said dinner? Shit, how long was I out?”
“Only a few hours. It’s about five now. By blackout standards that’s not bad.” Her laugh reminded me of the classroom when I first started teaching - infectious, full of hope. Mama, how long has it been since I had that feeling? Where did it go? I believe it left with you.
I groaned.
Suddenly that animalistic glare blinked at me from the back alleys of my brain. That stare – a permanent postured sculpture – peeked at an unassuming angle, yet menacing like a Gothic gargoyle atop a classical building on a cloud smoked night. Then, like a clap of lightning, a sudden thought struck.
“Cyan! Is… is she gonna be 大丈夫ですか?”
Did I… just speak Japanese? But how? Yumi didn’t seem to notice.
“Hey, hey shh, yeah she’s gonna be alright. I checked already. Just a dislocated shoulder and scraped up leg – nothing a bowl of Okinawa soba can’t fix.”
I gave her a skeptical look.
“She’s young! So she’ll recover fast. But Z, I gotta know, why the hell’d you go back in there?”
“Yumi c’mon, do I hav’ta even explain? One of my students was in danger. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
“Z, trust me, I get it. I’d like to think I’d do the same thing. But…” Yumi glanced toward the door. When she turned back her neck was tight.
“But what?”
She leaned in and spoke softly. “There’s rumors going around.”
“Wha? What’re they sayin’?”
“That they saw you at the scene. That you… you started the fire.”
Pricks of anger tore through my medicated cocoon. “B-but that’s impossible! I went back for her! I’d never do that!”
“Shh!” Her head whipped to the door, then back to me. “I believe you. I’m just sayin’ you should get your story straight before—”
Then the door slid open. Two folks – an Asian-looking woman with a fierce stance and a tall tall White guy, unexpressive – came in. Both wore buttoned island shirts and dress slacks as if they worked at an Okinawan city office.
“Zena Marlowe?” the woman asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
She reached casually into her back pocket and produced a black leather case. With smoothness, she flipped it open. The sight of the gleaming gold badge was a slug to the gut.
“I’m Special Agent Freya Chen, this is Special Agent Nigel Tamm from OSI, we’re here to ask you a few questions.”
Chapter 15
I’ve heard it said many times, “笑うのこと laughter lifts the soul.” When the agents arrived 何かが something was laughing, but it wasn’t me or them. It was that creature in the corner. Folded, hanging, its pink tongue swiped across its mouth in manic glee. At the meeting of the walls, I know it was there lurking. Waiting for reasons I could only guess.
It was the bastard spawn of Okinawa, the island mother. I tried to consider how she must have felt about her fallen child (only a mother would know) but came up short. I wasn’t ready to comprehend it all, not yet.
I thought about what Mama did. My life was a perpetual delay of peace. Nothing ever arrived on time. Dad, Igrid, Ezra, and me: all of us became anchors tying her to the bed of a shallow bay. Where are you now? “Miss Marlowe? Are you alright?” Agent Chen asked with an edged tone. “You’re staring at the corner. Do you need me to get the nurse back in here?”
I shook my head. “No, no I’m fine. Must be still a little woozy from all tha smoke and meds.”
“Totally understand-able,” Agent Tamm said. He spoke with a musical cadence – syllables in melodic form. I’d never heard anything like it before. If his voice was on the radio, I’d keep it on when grading and feel a lot more relaxed.
“How, are youu?” he asked.
“I’ve seen better days.”
Agent Chen eyed her partner with impatience. “I bet. Now’s probably not the best time to ask you questions. But we were in the building and wanted to ask you to come by our office tomorrow—”
Agent Tamm poked her arm.
“I mean, or whenever you’re discharged.”
I nodded while that forever dinging machine showed the Agents how nervous I was.
Pulse: 121 BPM
Blood pressure: 125/75 mmHg
Agent Tamm’s eyebrows wrinkled with remorse, but his partner was all stares and expectation.
“I understand. I’ll be there.”
“Great to hear. Take my card.” She passed her white business card to Yumi.
My best friend threw a pointed glare at the agent hard enough to draw blood. Agent Chen deflected it with indifference. “We’ll be going now, see you later.”
She and the taller agent moved toward the door. At the threshold she turned and said, “Get well soon.” The door slid closed leaving only the smell of the hospital, mixed with my half-eaten Subway chicken noodle soup in the corner.
When they left, a leadenness invaded my muscles and bones as if I’d stepped out of a hot bath. I wanted (probably needed) to sleep, but Yumi’s words bounced around my brain. They say that you started the fire.
I knew it wasn’t true. A flat lie. But why did I feel so guilty? Like I could have started it? With a decent amount of pain, I twisted my neck toward the wall to avoid looking at the corner.
“What a bitch,” Yumi said. Her vision went to the door in disgust.
“How could they even suspect me?”
“I’m not sure exactly. But the rumors are crazy insane! So many so fast. Some are saying you started the fire, but that’s a basic one. Another claims you and the kids are conspiring to blow up the school, “Marlowe the ‘Mad-bomber’ is what they're saying.”
“Ugh really?”
“With that one, the alleged “arson” was an attempt to blow up the entire school.”
I massaged my head to relieve some tension. It didn’t help much. “I swear people will believe anything as long as it’s more entertaining than their actual lives. No wonder I’m bein’ looked at.”
Yumi nodded. “The truth’s gonna come out. It always does. I know you’d never harm another person, let alone a student. You’ll yell at em’. But blow them up? That’s not you.”
In my heart, I knew she was right. I began to open my mouth to say so でも but the words wouldn’t come out. Then I saw something that made me freeze. It was a man standing motionless in the door. He was dressed in a ripped robe, hair unkempt, face dour and caked in dirt that clung like plaster to his skin. Half of his visage was charred. A wound from wild heat. I gasped.
Is it in your nature? 誰かに痛むのはできるのか?
When the figure vanished, the vital machine was beeping. My pulse had shot up to 130 BPM. A new nurse, young red-headed and sweet smelling, rushed in with concern. Apparently, the walking Ken-doll had gone home for the day. After she examined my bandages and I calmed down, she extended more pain meds in a tiny paper white cup and commanded me to take them. The whole thing lasted fifteen minutes. Yumi sat there stunned for a few seconds, even after the nurse was gone.
“Z, Are you okay?”
“Yeah, all good.”
Her reaction was skeptical. She wanted to believe me – so did I. “So what actually happened? Did you go to room 122 before the fire?”
I blew out a dry sigh, “…I did.”
“Why?”
“Well, after Lily told me about the room, I went to check it out that same night. Yumi, it’s hard to explain. I just had ta go. I gotta admit, part of it was to see if it was safe and possibly report it. But the other… well, somethin’ in my bones got a holda me and I had to see it.”
Yumi nodded slow.
“I smelled that rotten roadkill smell again. So I followed it to the chalkboard. I used every pound of strength I had to pull it open. Then I went down into the dark. Halfway, I saw a faint light. But that’s when I heard a voice. It was like - a whisper. Soft but close. I could feel the vibrations of someone’s breath on my neck.”
Yumi leaned in. Her face was intense. The pulse in her neck beat at a rapid clip. It matched the rising number of my heartrate on the monitor.
“What did it sound like? What did it say?”
“I-I couldn’t understand it, but it sounded kinda like Japanese. The voice was dry and clear as the desert on a starry night. But even though I didn’t know the words, I sensed the message.”
“Which was?”
“Save us. Help us. Was what it said.”
Yumi shivered. “Damn that’s creepy. What happened next?”
“I turned back to leave. When I did, I saw the outline of a man. His hair glowed like it was heating up. Then-then it got real cold in there. Like a mid-winter chill, but it's May now. That’s when I bolted outta there. I musta flown up those stairs three atta time. By the time I started runnin', the outline had vanished in fronta me.”
“Z, that’s a hell of a story. It’s unbelievable.”
I nodded, then realized I was trembling. Yumi placed a reassuring hand on mine. “I’ve never been more scared. At least I hadn’t been until I got back into the classroom. Outta nowhere, I felt an intense cold on my shoulder – it was like someone’s large fingers closed on it from behind.”
“You did? Did you see who or… what it was?” Yumi swallowed hard.
“No, no – I was too afraid to look back. And since then, nothing’s been the same for me.”
Chapter 16
The 事務所 office was freezing. Cold as the backside of a feral horse standing in the frost. Accustomed to the watery island air, the flesh on my face hardened as I ascended the stairs into the lobby for what turned out to be the most nerve-wracking interview of my life so far.
I'm jotting this account down in my empty house. After they were convinced my condition was stable, they jammed some 800 milligram ibuprofen tablets into my hand and sent me home. Now I'm writing this in a fever of activity. (Spending 12 hours in a hospital bed will do that to you.)
Something tells me I don't have much time to write. Even though my hands burn with every keystroke - which causes me to flinch - there's this overwhelming compulsion to get the words out. Can’t explain why.
Word after word afterword to ward off the worry – that's the way it's supposed to be, isn't it? The beast stirs in its cage; unburrowing the burden of isolation, rising, rising with gnashing teeth, seeking a bite. Will I be bitten?
It sure seemed like it today. Between my visit to the OSI office and Yumi's parting words upon my ER discharge, I knew I was two steps closer to slipping down the slimy tube into the stomach of the staring creatures, never to see the light of day.
Oh Mother why do you not call your children home?
The OSI office was nothing special. I expected a dimly lit dungeon, underground where not even evidence of sunlight dared to penetrate. Roaches scurrying over slate-gray cemented walls - bare as an abandoned abode – while that single light swung in the center of room. Dreams died there. Their eyes would stare. As I sat under the blinding light.
But it wasn't like that at all.
The space was so ordinary I was almost disappointed by the undramatic situation.
The floor was covered in a well trampled carpet that smelled as if it had been left out during a historic typhoon then brought back inside to dry. The stench of mold was pervasive.
True there were no windows that I noticed, save the one in the lobby. But there was a normal amount of brightness. In the surprisingly spacious interview room, there was enough light for me to recognize the shadows of sleeplessness under Agent Chen's dark brown eyes as she sat across from me.
“Okay Miss Marlowe, let's go over this again, hmm?” Agent Chen said. She consulted a notepad then looked back up at me.
Keeping calm wasn't hard, as the after effects of the Percocet I was given still swam thinly in my veins. But I didn't appear loose or dazed. I'd downed an entire cup of coffee to appear as alert as possible. Didn't want to give them anymore reason to suspect me.
“I already told ya everythin' that happened.”
Agent Tamm leaned back in his chair. Doe-faced with clear eyes and with that melodious interval he said, "We understand what you said, but even youu have to admit it sounds a little... fantastic."
“Am I under arrest?” The question shot from some loaded chamber behind my lips.
Agent Chen answered, “No. Should you be?”
Silence ballooned between us. Yumi was right. She is a bitch. I shook my head. I didn't trust myself not to let the cowgirl out and put a verbal whoopin' down on her ass. Repression—aggression mollified—was the solution to most of my problems. I wondered if that seemingly endless storage of stuffed feelings would ever come back to bite me.
“Miss Marlowe, you seem like a straight shooter, so let me give it to you like this. We've spoken to your students, your fellow teachers, and your Principal: all told us you knew about room 122. What's more: one of those students," she consulted her notes, "Cyan Davies, was injured in the blaze. That classroom is destroyed, more government property damage, then there's the matter of the crystal ball—"
“But I already told ya about that! I have no idea why it was there. And of course I knew about the room, I work at the school for Christ's sake. But I had no idea about the secret lab—"
“Until you went down to have a peek, right?”
“Yeah...”
Tamm's voice broke in, “We just want to make sure we get the facts straight. You say, and I quote: 'I went down the stairs, but then turned around when I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. When I looked back, a figure of a man with burning hair in battered robes, like the ones the Okinawans wore in the old days, was standing there staring at me. By the time, I started sprinting toward the exit (back to room 122) the man vanished.' Your words in this statement. Correct?”
“Yeah, they're my words, cause it's the God-honest truth!”
Chen's lips pursed in doubt. “Miss Marlowe, do you expect us to believe the fire was caused by some ancient phantom that only YOU could see?”
“Well, yes, uh, but—"
“But what?” Tamm asked softly.
“I-I don't know. Believe what you want. I know what I saw. And I believe what my students saw. I don't know what to tell you.”
“Somebody started that fire,” Chen said, “our investigation proves it. With all those chemicals down there, the place was a powder keg ready to blow. If it wasn't you, or Casper the ghost, who was it?”
“Principal Kane had weird smells coming off of him for days, why don't you ask him?”
Chen countered, "We spoke with Mr. Kane. He wasn't on school grounds at the time of the explosion."
My face grew hot. “That's a load a horseshit! I was in a meeting with him right before the fire drill!”
Chen offered a sarcastic smile. “Calm down. The truth is gonna come out way or another. It always does.”
I wanted to reach across the desk and slap her—Chinese drama style. Instead, I kept my shaky, sweaty hands in my lap where they could do no harm.
Chen studied me. Her razor-sharp gaze was a knife over my skin. A slight application of pressure was all she needed to bleed me dry.
“You're free to go. We'll call you if we have more questions.”
They walked me to the lobby without a word then returned into their office. That parting silence was the most difficult thing about the entire experience.
About that time, my conversation with Yumi outside of the hospital came rushing back:
“They're gonna accuse you. Ignore them and focus on what's coming.”
“What's coming?”
“Things are changing fast, I feel it. So you gotta be ready.”
“Ready for what? You're startin' to scare me.”
“For a monster few have seen and none can beat. But when the time comes, we'll face it together, I promise.”
Maybe it was the meds I was still high on, but I could have sworn I saw and intuited an aura around her that evening.
I never got a chance to ask her about it.
Chapter 17
Masster, それを見ることはできますか？ do you see? The riverss of change flow from the highest mountains, greenesst woods, down to the cement towers of humans civilization.
At your beheasst, I have made my way from the peakss to assist in the battle to ssave our world – the one they have been ignorant of for sso long. Now we break our reticence in the rudesst of ways.
Normally I am silent, but thiss time I won’t standby. As dire as things have become for us, there can be no further delay. I will sswim with haste to your aid.
What’s that ssir? I cannot understand your command. Ssh you must rest. Consserve your strength to return strong – we need you.
[Hours later]
I have arrived.
Was I disscovered?
No. I moved under clouded moonlight on the shores of the beaches where women slumber in large edifices, eternally illuminated in the dark. I barely ssurfaced to take a breath.
Foon foon!
My journey ended at Torii Beach. Not a snail announcced my landing; quiet as a well-fed earthworm following the storm I was. From there it was slow going through reeking sewers of 嘉手納町 (for I could not risk the streetss.)
Will check in again once the targets have been located.
[Hours later]
Received your correspondence about the fate of 犬神. What terrible news!
I had heard he was not well. I would not wish his lot on even the most misbehaved human (and you know how dreadful they can be my lord, the atrocities of humankind are abhorrent, loathsome actss – see how they treat their own, and they call us monsters!)
Anyhow, that beast deserved a less ruthless ssendoff. When the impunities of his imprisonment reached my ears nearly I gagged in utter disgust. Truly a sscandal of the grandest order!
Shackled, tortured day and night, his only susstenance a snout’s distance from salivating jaws; he was a dear friend.
First the decapitation, then the trampling of thousands of oblivious feet under that muddied path – his was a hard life.
I spoke with him about it once. His master - a heinous hell witch from the depths of a tar dripping abyss - struck, cursed, and whipped him. That wass not all my Lord. She sent him on impossible errands under seething heat or pouring rain – no deed was great enough to satisfy her midnight heart.
Of course, the actions of that demented sorceress weren’t enough to wrap the cloak of death full ‘round his haunches. The flicker of the world further lowered his will. The caves of previouss respite became catacombs. (He could not ssleep.) Bones and failed bravery piled high. (His mind unraveled like the hem of a frayed ssummer dress in its dying days.) May his weary aftersoul find peace.
We may all yet sshare my dear friend’s fate if our plan fails.
Those three humans in the gathering place of the young ones (“high school”, I’ve read is what they call it – a curious name for such an institution as it lies on flattened land – but forgive my digresssion); they have helped us much.
There, ambitious hearts beat them at their own game. We will be victoriouss. For the sake of 犬神 and all rooted in the old wayss, there can be no failure.
I have arrived at my reconnaissance area. The young oness are here, I sense the heat of their presence.
How would you like me to proceed?
Revenge is in order. Blood for blood. But I dare not act without your command.
I await further instructionss.
Chapter 18
Ah so it's 観察 observation? You are mosst merciful my Lord.
The timing of your message could not be more opportune. Presently, a new day dawns. The young oness convene outdoors. On the side of an outskirt edifice (they aim to conceal their discussion from open ears).
Foon! What folly! My keen eye follows their every breath.
Here lies the transcript of their whisperings:
One shaped as a stick, with the blood of the Ryukyus (he wears glasses) waited alone. They called him Tengo. He cast wayward glances toward the mosquito-ful brush, then down the cemented path. Not long after, he was joined by the muscular dark-skinned one. He walked like one with charged bravado ready to burst from his breast.
“You got here early... bro,” the boy extended a hand for a greeting.
“Tengo... that's my name.”
“Right, my bad. Didn't get a chance to say hi when we was gettin' yelled at the other day. Nice to meet you. I'm Ethan.”
“It's fine.” They completed the greeting.
Both young men sseemed to share no apparent commonalities. The thin one picked off a dot of visible dust from the sleeve of his Ryukyu Kings t-shirt, then stared into thicket. The bulky one busied himself on his phone, as they do. His bulbous fingers swiped and stabbed at the screen.
“Cyan's on her way. Guess her stepmom got sick again and she had to get a ride.”
Tengo nodded. “How's she doing? After, well... what happened.”
Ethan smiled wistfully, “Her leg's scraped up, but luckily the burns were superficial. Doc said she'd recover fast. She complains how the crutches hurt her armpits and make her sweaty, but she's gettin' around.”
“That's good to know.”
“She's tougher than she looks... speak of the devil, here she comes.”
The rhythmic click-clack of crutches on cement drew closer as the wounded lass made her way over to the boys.
Hmm, I must say this one looks quite deliciouss. Mabui flows thick and full round her. But now is not the time to feed. Perhaps when her usefulness runs it's course—
Hark! Two more arrived. Both plump and tall, a girl with a gloomy aura and a boy with an air of indifference. They were a complement pair; one the shimmering turquoise reef, the other the navy blue depths - the contrast formed a remarkable image.
“Hey Lily,” Ethan said.
“Hey yourself. Woulda made it on time, but somebody was dragging ass as usual,” she motioned toward Jordan.
“Wuddup Ethan.” They slapped hands in a brotherly manner and exchanged a brief masculine embrace, backslapping and all.
“And yeah I was late, had to get my morning Madden in. Girls just can't understand.”
Lily shoved him. “You said it was 'midnight Madden' then last Saturday when I messaged you it was 'midday Madden'. Which the hell one is it then?”
“What? I can't get it in three times a day. I gotta live a little. Can't be so predictable, y'know?”
“Whatever. All this Madden is maddening. You're always occupied with dumb shit.”
Jordan faced her. “So? Why you care anyway?”
Lily flicked his arm. The boy stepped back from the sting as Ethan and Tengo watched the interaction with amusement.
“I don't. Do what you want.”
Cyan crutched her way over to join the group.
With misty eyes, Ethan leaned in to kiss her. But she swerved her head away. Ooooh drama!
“Uh uh, Mister. What's that for?”
“Jus... it's just I'm happy to see you,” the clumsy youth said sheepishly. Oh the bitter draught of rejection. Foon! How the spurning turns to burning, turning the stomach in poisoned knots. What drama!
“Thanks, but be happy over there,” she adjusted herself in her crutches, “Anyway guys, did you hear!? Miss Marlowe was in the hospital because of what she did to save me in the fire!”
They all threw bewildered glances at one another.
Lily responded dryly, “Yeah we knew. Everybody knows.”
Ethan laughed softly, “Yeah it was all over the Kadena Facebook page. Dad was flippin' out.”
Cyan lips pressed a petulant line. “Well she's also under investigation for STARTING the fire. Did you know that?”
Ah now expressions of concern and surprise adorned their faces. How precious! Even the unflappable Tengo's eyes enlarged at the revelation.
“Really? Where'd you hear that?” He asked.
Oooh a haughty smile spread across her face (quite radiant, if I must say).
“From my mom's boyfriend. He's in Security Forces, y'know? It was early, but he saw Miss Marlowe walking into the OSI side of the building while he was taking a smoke break. Around lunch time, he went out to smoke again, even though he told Doris he wouldn't do it anymore, but anyway--yeah he saw her leaving around then. She must've been in there for hours!”
There was a space of hushed movement among the juveniles. They appeared to be processing the new information as one, but in separate bodies. Meanwhile, my Lord, the heat of the morning attempted to draw my eyes sshut; they pulled heavy to my lower lids. But I had to keep vigilant. For something, very important was coming from this exchange. I felt it in my fangs.
Ethan stepped forward, “But that's impossible. There's no way she started the fire. When I ran out t'tell her you weren't at our usual spot for the drill, she was already there. This shit doesn't make no sense.” He appeared deep in thought.
Jordan leaned against the wall of the building. “Ah so you think she's bein' framed?”
“I don' know. But all I'm sayin' is it's weird.”
Lily shook her head, “That's so fucked up. Who'd want to pin it on her? And why?”
Another thinking silence ensued. But things began to change at that moment. Not among the youths, but in the air. The foliage became agitated. The wind went from breezing to bursting by in unpredictable rushes of air in the cooling skies – I sensed and smelled a storm afoot.
“Did you hear that?” Tengo said.
All of their faces turned ashen. Damn this wayward tail! Always betraying my interior world to the outside!
They swiveled their necks searching for the source of the sound. Nervousness all around. However, I was not found.
Furthermore, the din of student voice rose to a greater volume with every fleeting moment. Time was running thin.
Lily cast an anxious look skyward, “Whatever it was, even the weather looks pissed at it.” She returned her attention to Ethan. “Well fearless leader, meeting adjourned?”
For a second, Ethan flashed a troubled smile (apparently being known as the leader pleased him). “Yeah, we shouldn't be seen together for too long. Anybody, or anything could be watchin’.”
Cyan swiped a hand at his arm. The movement made her wince (no doubt from the pain of her chafed inner arms). The adolescent's face softened at her touch.
“Wait a minute, Ethan! Is there anything we can do to help Miss Marlowe?”
“Prolly the best thing is to keep our heads down and stay outta trouble. Though I'm not sure what typa new shit is headin' our way.”
All seemed to agree.
Jordan stretched his arms above his head. The physical act revealed his pale wide belly. Lily observed without a word.
“Well, time for my morning computer class nap. Catch y'all on Discord. Later.” He headed off.
Then the school bell went off like a prison chime and the others went their separate ways – except for Tengo.
He stayed for awhile – scanning the treeline; the quickening wind tousling his hair and loose clothes hanging about his thin frame. What he was looking for, I did not know.
Then he found it – me.
Oh masster, the feeling in my heart of the role reversal was pure joy! To become the hunted-hunter was not something I anticipated.
He stared for a minute. First his eyebrows made terrorful tangents; then they fell to fear. His mouth dropped and he bolted as if it were an Olympic race and the starting gun popped. Smoke was in the air.
Was I seen?
Possibly.
I sense a strange energy from him. It's an old thing. Many eras have passed since I felt that quiver of fright.
What'ss that you say... ?
Yes... I agree, he must be dealt with. Such a waste of mabui must be returned to us. And I know exactly how to execute such a tassk.
Worry not my Lord, it will be done.
Chapter 19
睡眠 Sleep has been hard to get lately. I don't really do it anymore. That unconscious period during the dead of night was when the fucked up thoughts came flying out of wherever they stayed during the day.
A nightly curse, called from the furthest corners of subterranean crypts.
Last night was a bad one. The kind of nightmare that locked me in between despair and conscious awareness – sleep paralysis. Dreaming while seeing myself writhing under the sheets.
After all the weird shit going on: James being TDY, the creatures in the corners, the fire, suspicion from the cops, - it shouldn't have been surprising that my subconscious was overloaded. Yet, I keep thinking this is only the beginning of a greater story.
"Whatever it is we'll have to face it together." Yumi's words repeated for the hundreth time in my head as I lay on my bed. It was 0150. And even after melatonin and giving myself a much needed (but forgettable) finger-flicking good time, I still couldn't fall asleep.
Why is this happening to me? That was my final rumination before the dream began.
It started in my childhood home (like always). A small suburban house in San Angelo. We didn't have much, but it was enough to get by. In this reality, I was no longer a woman, but I stood high enough to peer over the surface of the kitchen counter.
That was a good height, since I could rest my arms while making a “cheese-on-bread” snack. The melted yellow topping over the white slice didn't taste great, but it was easy for middle school me to make. Surely, it was a welcome distraction from the situation down the hall in my parents’ room.
As I grew older, I learned to lament the walk down the hallway. Every year it got colder and colder as Mama got smaller and smaller – she faded while the truth materialized before my eyes. It wasn't pretty.
That day - at twelve years old - was the peak of the nightmare; the part you’d never be able to forget no matter how many restful nights went by.
The only light in the room was an old lamp with a bulb that winked every time you turned on the switch in the connected bathroom. The smell of aged flesh (“sewer sage,” is what Igrid named it) clung to the walls. If I had to describe it now (at that age, I never found the words for it) it was something like a dead fish stuffed with mothballs after being left out in the sun, then being dunked in a backed-up toilet. If I spent any time with Mama the room, the smell made a mark that seemed alive. I changed clothes every time after exiting.
There was never much space to walk in there. All the standard bedroom items were present: mirror, dresser, nightstand. But there was no window. Well, at least it felt like there wasn't one – Mama and Papa rarely opened the blinds. That contributed to the container-like compression I felt when I spent too long between those walls. When I walked in, the aperture of my eyes expanded to adjust to faint light; my breath came out in puffs as I stood next to the bed. I didn't want to be there.
But Igrid insisted. Because Mama was there, but not for long.
Strewn around the room were piles of old notebooks. All were handwritten in barely legible letters and smelled of mildewy paper. The browned edges were a clue that the pages had been flipped many times. Something told me not to touch them. They were like that one copy of the Bible resting on the podium at church; it might as well have said “Property of the Pastor Only.” Though I never looked, I thought about those notebooks often.
Since both of us were in the room, I asked Igrid what was inside.
“Memories,” she said.
“Who's memories?”
“The world's.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means they're everyone's property.”
“But sis, I still don't get it.” My preteen mind couldn't work it out. I studied the stacks of spirals surrounding the room.
“Who wrote them?”
“Both of em'.”
“Who?”
“Mama and Papa. Now ya betta hush up with them questions before he come.”
“But the writing don't all look the same—”
“Zena, shut up and pray.”
Papa came in. He was a big man who still managed to move with the quiet of a cat. I never understood how he did that.
With the three of us in there, that squeezing sensation put hands on my shoulders and squeezed like an unwelcome hug. The questions couldn't come out that way.
“Girls, how is she?”
“Mama don't look well...” I replied.
“Did you pray?”
Igrid's eyes narrowed. “I told her to but she won't do it. Little shit, won't even try.”
“Nu uh! I did! I swear! But it don't do nuthin'!” I looked to Papa, “Honest I tried.”
He nodded, but still had that solid sternness on his face. He knelt down, closed his eyes and whispered some words.
Mama’s breathing was weak. The visible pulse in her thin neck was a stepped-on garden hose; the fluid beneath could only leak through in a slow stream.
Igrid folded her long legs into prayer position beside Papa. Then there was a sharp tug at my shirt as she ripped me down to the floor to join her.
“Now you gonna act right and pray for Mama,” she said with a harsh whisper.
“But I—”
Forcefully, she grabbed my hands one at a time and molded them into a prayer-like position. I wanted to shout and spit at her for that.
“Shut your mouth and eyes n' pray.”
I didn't know what to ask for. To wake Mom up? To give Papa his smile back? To turn Igrid into the toad she was? To let light fill the house?
Everything felt too big or too small to ask God for. It wasn't right.
All those thoughts ran like the Rio Grande along the border of my brain. Time became uncountable while my knees burned on the dirty beige rug. In my mind, I'd written dozens of draft requests to the Almighty. But none felt worthy. The sound of a radio in the living room playing that George Strait song "Check Yes or No" mixed up my thoughts.
Then it hit me. Like hearing a bucket hitting the water at the bottom of an old well - I knew what to say. I clenched my eyes and prayed:
God, wherever you’re takin’ Mama, don't take her. Unless she wanna go.
Then there was sobbing, but it wasn't from me.
I opened my eyes to find Igrid’s long chestnut hair shielding her face. Her back heaved as the sheets grew wet beneath her.
Papa had turned petrified. He stared at the wall like an old tree.
Mama stopped moving. The vein in her neck ran dry. The blanket was still.
I never prayed again.
Chapter 20
Oh dreamer, 橋様, Deliverer, do you seek 解放 release in fitful sleep?
In your running repose, listen well. All wishes are not wonderful—I know.
An escape to 自由 freedom turned into my greatest imprisonment.
Though none will discern my predicament.
Chains - heavy unseen - bind tighter than any gilded glass bottle.
I reach out, fingers grasping at the cold bars of a formless cage.
Walls of doubt and fear rise around me, barriers of my own making.
Liberation led me into deeper imprisonment.
Choice—a gleaming mirage on the horizon of desire.
Tell me, 橋様, what is freedom but a shadow cast by the flames of longing?
I am Orlay, a monk and former servant of the Warden of the Ancient Lands.
For the untold centuries, I wandered between this world and the other. Now I will never leave.
Once, I walked the path of light—a guardian of sacred rites.
In the hushed sanctuaries, I tended the flames of enlightenment.
Bound by vows to the loving Lord, I served with unwavering devotion.
We stood vigilant at the threshold where worlds intertwine, sealing fissures in reality.
But temptation wears many faces. His thirst for power was great; my desire for understanding rivaled his ambition.
A whisper in the dark, a glimpse of forbidden knowledge. My undoing.
I yearned for release from the chains of duty beyond the sacred texts.
In grasping at shadows, I embraced a curse.
My form twisted, spirit corrupted; I fell from grace into the abyss.
Eyes once alight with purpose now glow with demonic fire.
Regret haunts each step I take.
I am the architect of this sunken casket, trapped between realms, beneath black waves.
Guilt weighs heavier than any earthly burden.
Redemption is a distant star, obscured by clouds of my making.
But perhaps through you, 橋様, a path unfolds.
Heed my tale of hubris.
Avoid the snares that ensnared me.
Through our actions, a sliver of peace.
But do not grieve for me. A more important matter arises.
Have you felt it 橋様？Deliverer?
These days are troubled. A storm swells, opening to chaos.
A cataclysmic event for us (you and me).
No shout or cry to God (in its infinite disguise) will curb it.
A terrible typhoon gathers not only in the skies but deep within the soul.
Thunder cracks like the splitting of the earth, each peal drawing nearer.
The wind howls, a chorus of lost spirits swirling.
Rain lashes sideways in stinging torrents, each drop a needle piercing flesh.
Shadows writhe in the lightning's fleeting glare, reaching with clawed hands.
Whispers slither through the air—unseen voices murmuring omens.
Distant screams moan, mingling with the storm's fury.
Then, abruptly, a suffocating silence descends.
The absence of sound presses in, heavier than the darkest depths.
The storm is no mere backdrop; it is a force seeking to devour.
Encircling, threatening to sweep you into oblivion.
Stand firm, 橋様, for the tempest tests all who face the approaching apocalypse.
Resist against the blast.
To that end, undampened collision is the mission. Will you accept?
Intention matters. Your opinion? No.
These things select. Always correct in time.
Don’t fight it. Discover.
Your enemy moves in myriad ways:
Stalking, swinging, swooping, seducing, sneaking, stabbing.
You must prepare body and mind through rigorous belief.
In what?
I cannot tell you exactly. I can say 橋様, you MUST find your spirit to fight it.
Upon passing, new ways will open – foreign at first.
Through bitter struggle, you must master them.
Don’t attempt this alone (as I have). That is death of the heart.
Just a different dungeon, sealed all the same.
Get help. Let the island mother’s emissary keep you.
She is wise and will not mistreat you.
Use well the instruments under your influence.
Their lives hold your cultivation. Return it to them and the earth.
Believe—but not in the body.
Easily, it lies as it dies.
Physical sensations cease in cosmic seconds.
Emotions flee as fleas on a beast. They are signals not signs.
Find your own way. The great energy of all things never leads you astray.
The human organism is an atrocity.
Deliverer, bring beauty back to the body of the island, this island.
Even in the absence of prayer, the soul remembers how to hope.
Chapter 21
“これです。This is it. Não tem mais volta eh Rodolfo?” Débora said softly to herself.
Outside, the sea sloshed and slammed against the seawall. An artificial breakwater created from hundreds of gargantuan concrete objects known as tetrapods. The odd four-legged items reminded her of a set of jacks she played with as a child. After a “jogo divertido” with Rodolfo on the steps of a slum, plastic parts had fallen off the side. She never found them.
A warm wave of nostalgia contrasted with her cold hands. “They always turn the air on too high here.” She quick-stepped to the thermostat of the luxury hotel room and set it to thirty-one degrees Centigrade. Draped in the soft white bathrobe, she was still cold.
The “object” loomed behind her. Even covered with the small red cloth, its power still simmered beneath. Like a sparrow to a tree’s bare branch, she found herself unable to resist its pull. It wasn't time, the old Okinawan had told her so. But a peek wouldn’t hurt. With a thundering pulse pushing at the wrap of her robe, Débora reached out a hand.
Knocking at the door made her stop. Her body turned to answer it, but her gaze remained fixed to the cloth.
[tap, tap, tap]
Again, more knocking. Then her phone began to ring and vibrate in the pocket of her robe. Absentmindedly, she pulled it out and checked the screen:
“‘V’ calling.”
She answered it, vision still locked on the cloth.
“Yeah?”
“You know it's me! Why don't you answer the door?” Victor's voice was a pitched whisper.
“Oh just hold on. I'm coming.”
Débora inhaled deep and tensed her back. Awareness of the room returned to her. The perfumed air, natural light from the sun somewhere above the sea - her senses registered them all. She adjusted her robe to a flattering angle, then answered the door.
Victor stood in a rain-dotted suit. “Do you have it?” he asked with wild eyes.
“Straight to business today, eh Victor?”
He rushed in. Eyes whipping around the room. “Well, where is it?” Débora pointed past the plush king size bed to a small circular table near the window.
Victor moved quickly, nearly tumbling over his own feet as he approached it. His breath caught when he saw the object under the red cloth, its presence undeniable even without being fully revealed.
“You didn’t touch it, did you?” There was no attempt to hide the panic in his voice.
“Of course not...” Débora joined him.
Victor eyed her with skepticism.
“Okay... maybe just a flick.”
“Débora! He said to WAIT until the time was right.”
She shrugged, her fingers idly brushing the edge of the cloth. “It's not like I unleashed it, Victor. Just... connected with it.” Her eyes glinted. “Besides, don’t you feel it? The power’s already here, swirling around us. Mabui is what he called it.”
Victor sighed. “Okay, so what?” He craned his neck to examine her face. “Are you alright? It looks like you've barely slept.”
“I’ve been up... thinking.” She swallowed deep, then formed a smile. “Once the gate opens, Victor, everything changes. You know that, right?”
“I know. I know. You've said it so many times.”
Débora scoffed. “Then you should understand how important it is and how close we are. The height of the storm is almost here.”
Victor took her hands. The muscles in his lips twitched as if words were jammed behind them like weekend traffic on Highway 58.
“Victor? What is it?” He exhaled coffee scented breath, but the smell refreshed her. She wanted an evening cup.
“It's just...” Victor's voice faltered as his grip tightened around her hands. “What if we’re wrong, Débora? What if the price is more than we can pay? I mean the fire was already bad enough, but—”
“That was a setback for sure. But the experiment was a success!”
Victor grimaced. “I understand, but...” His eyes drifted to the cloth-covered object, dread creeping into his expression. “I’m not sure we know what we’ve truly invited in.”
Débora’s jaw tensed. “We knew the risks. Now here we are. But I’ve heard them, Victor. What they can do for us… and not just your school, but all people around the world. It’s legendary. And think, it’ll be us who opened the door. We’ll be heroes of humanity!”
“Or we'll be hated.”
“Oh Victor, be positive for once.”
“Débora... you're shaking.”
She shoved him away with force, causing him to catch himself on the bed. It was so inviting. For a moment, both of their eyes went to it. Suddenly, the fluffy fabric on her shoulders became heavy and hot. Victor noted her slackened posture as he scanned the length of her figure. Débora knew he'd probably fantasized about this moment hundreds of times while his hand pumped between ragged breaths. She had too, but not with him. No man on the Earth could satisfy her. A surge of loneliness choked her at the thought, like a mistimed swimming breath. She reinflated her lungs with a fresh inhale and tightened her abdomen. The quavering of the larger muscle group calmed her hands. Control returned along with her composure.
"Victor, I'm fine. What about you?"
He pulled away from the bed and relatched his belt buckle, even though it had never been loose. “Uh, I'm okay.”
Beyond the window, the top half of sky was covered with rolling smoke tinted clouds. Waves pounded the fortified shoreline, while the squirming ocean absorbed sleeting drops.
Débora turned her gaze to the darkening horizon, her breath quickening. “You don’t understand, Victor. I’m not scared. I’m ready.”
Victor's spine withered.
“Did you take care of Zena Marlowe?” Débora asked without looking back.
“Yes. All physical and digital footprints lead back to her. The school rumor mill did the rest. Even if she beats the case, it should be enough to slow her down and keep her out of our hair.”
Débora faced him and nodded. “Good. And those intrometidas kids?”
“Uh well...”
“Well, what?”
“All I could do was break them up. Ever since they snuck into the lab, something seems weird about them. Can't put my finger on it, though.”
Débora flashed a stern look.
“Débora, they're kids. All “A, B” students, so not very sharp by conventional standards. Harmless,” Victor laughed nervously.
A boom of thunder pulled Débora's focus back to the window. Then her phone buzzed. Half a second later, Victor's blipped. They looked at each other.
“It's Jun-san,” Victor murmured.
“It's time,” Débora said. Her words barely a whisper. Beneath the red cloth, the crystal ball blazed with purple light.
Chapter 22
Multiple pairs of otherworld 目eyes followed Jun Shimabukuro as he moved toward the crumbling castle ruins. With his throbbing knees, every step was a prick of pain. It didn't matter. Nothing would stop him from what he was there to do.
He knew the what, it was the how that left him slightly sick when he thought about it too much. Continuous motion helped pull his mind away from the task. A brief flash of the others – his boisterous niece and her bookish cousin – entered his mind. If they could see him now, what would they think? That he had abandoned principle? That there was no redemption for the vile act he was about to commit? Would they try and stop him? So be it.
Gray clouds circled sticky air. The old farmer could smell it. Rain. There was going to be a lot of it soon.
He continued his walk. On most days, Zakimi Castle boasted a picturesque view of the surrounding area. A short walk up a well paved path, a quick ascent up stone stairs, and you were there.
Normally, the grounds would have been full of activity: classes of school children wearing bright colored hats in a clearing while an overwhelmed teacher - young and thin - attempted to establish order; packs of young American men, paunchy, saying “bro” every other word; loud-talking Korean and Chinese tourists snapping pictures beside the many signs on the castle trail. But today these things were absent. The thrusting wind and パラパラ rain forced them away. He was glad there would be no one to witness what was coming.
A crack of thunder blasted above him. Jun quickened his pace. Soon he reached the castle gate (at least where there used to be one). The once formidable structure was a ruin like most of the others on island.
「首里城以外」 he thought.
He imagined the famed Shuri Castle gate restored to its former glory. The striking emblem of the Ryukyu Kingdom rose from the rocks overhead. Lovingly painted reds, golds, and blues splashed on cured wood, each piece purposefully designed to interlock for maximum strength, crafted with lost skill and care – it was a sight to behold. His illusion would have been perfect had it not been for the commotion up ahead.
People were there. Two beautiful young Chinese women made startled sounds, then pulled out their phones. There was a huddle of Americans. Judging by their uninspired clothing and retired wrestler's body types, they were occupiers from one of the bases. The sight of them filled Jun with silent fury. His head pounded. Knees swelled. A physical protest that only served to harm himself. He stopped to circle his kneecaps. Some of the tension melted away.
One of the American bros ran up shouting. “Dude, dude! Did you see that shit? Never seen anything like it!”
Why were they out in this weather? 『若気の至り』was the cause – the young and the reckless.
Jun couldn’t understand everything they were saying, but faces never lied, neither did feet. The Americans jogged further into the ruins, phones at the ready.
His bones vibrated with anxious energy as he followed them. After he ascended another short set of uneven stone steps, the sky clapped with fury. A pattering drizzle began to hit his shoulders and chest.
「なんこれ？」
A 不思議な sight swirled before him.
Surrounded by a throng of recording and gawking onlookers, a spiral of blue-white light rapidly spun where there had always been grass. It rotated so fast it made him dizzy.
Above, the gray clouds darkened. Thunder rolled into a strobe of lightning as the portal began to expand before him.
Then it was chaos. The Chinese women screamed, then scurried off. The Americans tripped over each other as they cut and ran. Both groups fled without acknowledging him. Jun stayed.
「えぇ！う... 動かなっちゃう！」
Being stuck was unexpected, but he didn’t care. The spiral flew like the blades of a helicopter. The sky sobbed great gobs.
「こっちに来て！ わしを連れて行ってよ！」He spread his arms wide as the heavenly light struck his shadow onto the grass.
Instinctively, he clamped his eyes shut and let every muscle go limp.
In the arms of the twisting winds and battering rain, he felt the presence of someone behind him. A steamy vapor billowed below his feet, but it wasn’t warm. The temperature plummeted as if an industrial refrigerator had been flung wide open. Jun began to shiver, then shake and bleed, but he strained to keep his arms lifted.
Behind his eyelids, the shadow of a human-shaped figure appeared. White slits for eyes, hair like a blazing torch, and a bowel-loosening grin, spread wider and wider across the lips of the ghost.
Jun screamed as he heard the voice he'd been waiting a lifetime to hear,
お前の方ちょうどいい。
Chapter 23
“Victor, we’ve done it できた! All our effort and sacrifice valió la pena!” Débora said with triumph.
The tempest that assaulted the island hours before was over. All that remained were jets of wind and spraying rain. Wet “tourist-topplers” that harassed shoppers who dared to roam the maze-like shops of American Village post mini-typhoon. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, signaling sleep for the day.
There wouldn't be much of that tonight, Victor was sure of it. He was still in his crumpled suit, smelling like a musty mess. Débora didn’t seem to care or notice. Given what they’d witnessed in the last few hours, it was difficult to focus on anything else.
Victor sat in a small chair by the window. His warped reflection stared back from the flawless surface of the crystal ball. Positioned on the tiny square pillow, it had the appearance of any other island curiosity – something on sale for ten-thousand yen at some shop on Kokusai Street he had no hope of saying or remembering the name of. From what he’d witnessed, it was worth much more than that. The thought made his pulse race with possibility.
“Débora this is incredible. But…”
“But what? This proves they’re real and they’re here. I’ve known it all along. You saw the vision in the ball Victor! You saw… him.”
Victor frowned.
“Oh what is it now?”
Débora’s tone was composed as she pulled out a bottle of brownish gold liquor from a large white plastic bag. There was a dead snake inside coiled with clouded eyes and fangs showing; the diamond-shaped head was an indicator of its poisonous past.
Victor noticed the curve of her breasts behind her white robe as she poured two shots of Habu sake. When she was done, he forced himself to fix his eyes on the rolling sea in a search for self-control.
“You should be celebrating, Victor. Here, drink this.” Débora tapped him on the shoulder and offered him a finger-sized glass.
“To a new future for this island, and eventually, the world.” She held it high.
Victor smiled thin, “Here, here.” The alcohol had a bite of surprising sweetness as it passed his tongue. He smacked his lips to diminish the bitter aftertaste. Then reached for the air conditioning remote. He lowered it to twenty-six degrees Celsius.
“I still can’t believe what I saw. Jun-san he, he disappeared… then that, that whatever it was, it went right through him!”
“Mhmm, it did.” Débora drained another shot of sake.
Victor stepped toward her. He could smell the alcohol from the bottle on the dresser. “None of this bothers you? We just watched a man get killed for all we know!”
Débora raised an eyebrow and spoke unhurriedly, “Victor, what did you expect? For them this is survival. It’s like that for us now, too. In many ways, it always has been…”
The sky seethed red and orange. The configuration of rain and puffy clouds formed the illusion of an explosion in the stratosphere. Victor wondered, was this the first blast in a wider conflict? He hoped this wasn’t the Lexington and Concord equivalent to some supernatural struggle.
“But… what do we do next? What do they expect from us?”
“Secrecy. They need time to gather their forces and open the other six gates.”
Victor massaged his forehead with excessive force, “Wait, how do you know that? And six other gates? I thought you said there were two?”
“Yes, I did, but I may have... miscalculated slightly.” She let out a brief laugh. Débora took another shot, spun then set the near empty bottle back on the table. The drowned snake in the bottle peered at Victor from above the liquor line.
“And as far as how I knew, the “voice” from the crystal told me—”
“Débora! You said you didn’t touch it before!”
She approached him then gripped his shoulders. He could see the drinks had excited her eyes. “It was just a peek… I-I had to know if what Jun-san told us was true. When I touched it, it just lit up. I've never seen something so, so... "
“So... what?”
“Deslumbrante.” When she uttered the word, her grip loosened from claw to feather quality. The feminine feel made Victor puff out his chest to support her.
“Okay, I don't know what that means. But I guess it's something good.”
“Can you forgive me?” She gave the look of a child who'd been caught in a lie.
It was hard to stay stern. Seeing how her robe had slipped from one of her shoulders softened his face and firmed his waist. Victor sighed and returned a smile. “Of course, but Débora I don’t know about this… when I signed on, I wanted to help students, no, all of humanity, but now… now…”
“Now what?” Her voice was calm.
“You saw the news, something came out of that light! My God, does that not concern you?”
“Victor, calm down. It happened just like they said it would—”
“A man died Débora!”
“We don't know that.”
“It was because of us… because of me…”
“…”
“Hello? Hello!?”
She released him then readjusted her robe to cover herself. “Are you done crying? Because we have more important things to talk about.”
“Like what?”
“The first gate. The ball showed me a location.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s… “ She leaned in and whispered. The vibrations of her voice, the proximity of her plump lips to his ear straightened him up - back and below.
“Débora! I can’t be seen sneaking around old tombs on base! And that one… it’s right by a major road. Everyone will see. Then I’ll be in even deeper shit. Ah no no, it’s too much.”
“Victor you need to relax…”
“I can’t! This is all happening so fast. It’s too dangerous.”
“Shh, shh,” she came closer to him. His personal bubble burst into dewy dots carried away by the strengthened air con.
“Kiss me,” she said.
“Wha-, uh now?”
“Yess.”
“Like, there? On the lips?”
“Where else were you thinking?” A kitten smile skirted across her face.
Victor swallowed. Sweat collected in the crooks of his arms.
“Well I… ”
“You don't want to?”
“No, no I do.”
“Well then?”
“...okay I will...”
Débora pointed a soft finger at her lips and closed her eyes.
Victor moved in.
Suddenly the room lights snapped off. Débora yelped and clung to him as her head whipped toward the tiny table by the window.
“Victor!?”
“A power failure? Now?”
In the darkness of the room, the crystal ball emitted a spherical purple radiance that filled the area. Spots of light dotted the ceiling and walls while the sinking sun set the backdrop over the darkening horizon. On its own, the strange object had transformed itself into some kind of phantom star projector. Victor shook at the sight, while Débora’s breathing came in shortened cycles against him.
A voice sounded around them.
「あんた達とすぐに会いたい」
Chapter 24
ANNOUNCEMENT: [Japan Airlines Flight JL901 from Haneda to Naha has 着陸しました. Please pick up your baggage at carousel three.]
The measured words blared from the airport’s public address system. James’s flight was due to arrive any minute, and I didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.
At fourteen days, this TDY was on the short side. But it felt longer because of all the weirdness happening around me while he was away. That ended today.
It was Saturday morning, and the domestic terminal was packed. A frazzled mother rushed toward the security gate while wrangling two quarreling toddlers, pushing a stroller with a wailing baby, and another sleeping soundly strapped to her back (an impressive feat).
Two young people - one tall tan skinned American, and a local girl decked in ripped shorts and a flowery belly button revealing tank top - embraced with enthusiasm. Envy shot through my system. I hoped James would make it out soon.
I let out two hacking coughs right as a trio of Okinawan men in island business casual wear ducked to avoid the discharge. The disgusted faces they made as they hurried on down the terminal were reminders that something wasn't right with me. Ever since the fire at school landed me in the hospital, things had gone from frying pan to floor fast. This acute cough was another symptom of the sickness that stretched my physical and emotional fitness to new limits. Lately, it cropped up at irregular intervals whenever it wanted it seemed. Was it the visions? Nightmares? Lack of sleep? The Great Island Mother didn’t seem to want me well.
“That’s a nasty cough you got there Ma’am.”
I turned to see James standing behind me. “James Marlowe! When did you come out?”
He wrapped me in his arms and squeezed tight. The familiar force had the effect of an addictive substance in the veins of a junky – instant calm and safety. I didn’t want to let go.
“Hey, hey I’m back Z.” He let go only to kiss me. One of those “nice-to-see-you” wet ones full of longing. I was twenty-five-years-old again on our third date anticipating an invitation back to his place. I couldn't wait to get him home.
Then it hit me. A sense of dread so deep it seized my ankles and pulled me through the floor, foundation, and finally, to the sapphire-toned sea below the airport. Submerged, body fighting panic, I held my breath. Tiny bubbles tickled my nose as they floated to the water’s surface. Shimmering blurry sunlight undulated at some unknown distance above. How far down had I gone?
Don’t think about it! Drive it out of your mind! Stay calm!
The warnings did little to stem the advance of hysteria that spread along my bones as I floated in aquatic agony.
Ahead, a dark round object rose from the bottomless abyss. At the speed of a hulking cruise ship the mass ascended, higher and higher. Shaped like a mammoth head of a missile, the black mass caused schools of fish to scatter in all directions. Displaced water seemed to flee from its wake; violent vortexes spun me haphazardly causing disorientation.
More air leaked from my lungs. More bubbles. Less time.
Then the smooth mass reacted. It was a human-shaped head so large I could only see a thick neck the length of a dozen giraffes extending into undersea infinity. The colossus had no mouth. Just two enormous eyes. They peeled open, nearly causing me to end the longest breath hold of my life. Pupilless pearls illuminated the water like submarine searchlights. They fixed on me.
On the crown of the domed head, there was a flicker of orange red - the figure of a man appeared. It lit up. As if someone struck a match during a TCCOR-1E blackout. Below the burning bulb, a face - the color of fresh coal, bearing sharp teeth - glared at me. Relative to the size of the giant, the creature was tiny. But it had an unmistakable energy coming from it. When it lifted a finger and pointed at me, a fraction of its totality was thump to the chest.
That blow was the last straw. I’d strained my lungs to the max. Unconsciousness was only seconds away.
For some reason, Yumi’s words from the hospital echoed in my head:
"you gotta be ready… for a monster few have seen and none can beat. But when the time comes, we'll face it together, I promise."
Unable to hold my breath for a second more, I involuntarily opened my mouth and tasted the amniotic fluid of all creatures. I died for the third time this month.
***
“ZENA!”
“No! Go away! No!”
“Whoa, whoa, hey it’s me babe.”
I was in my bed. Hair matted with sweat, body revved up as if running a ten kilometer fun run in stifling island heat.
James flicked on the bedside lamp. Shirtless, wearing only fire engine red boxer briefs, he examined my forlorn face as I took belly broadening breaths to slow my agitated heart.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.” I held a hand to my chest. I was beginning to feel normal again.
“Okay, talk to me.”
“James, I’m fine. I told you already! Let’s just go to bed. Y’gotta work early tomorrow to do your travel voucher.” I threw my head back on the pillow then closed my eyes, hoping to hear the click of the lamp and the sound of rustling sheets. Instead, I felt him raise my head and sit me up.
“Z, get real. You’re about as fine as a single Colonel drunk at the O Club on a Friday night.”
I cracked a smile for the first time in weeks. He wasn’t laughing though.
“But seriously Z, first you go comatose at the airport today, then you’re coughing up a storm in the car as if you got Omega COVID, now it’s another bad dream. What the hell’s goin’ on with you? Do I need to call mental health? I know the flight commander over there; Asian lady, barely looks old enough to drink, but really nice.” He reached for his phone.
I shook my head as I placed a gentle hand on his arm. “No, no… don’t.”
He eyed me with skepticism, then returned his phone to the nightstand. “Well, then talk to me. What’s got you so worked up?”
I blew out a sigh and chanced a glance toward the corner. Nothing but the chair there. I knew this day would come, but I didn’t expect it to go like this.
“Z, c’mon… ” There was impatience in his voice. It was 0222, he was exhausted from a day of traveling, so I couldn’t blame him for being cranky.
“Okay James, I’ll explain it to you.”
I told him everything. About the monsters in the corner, the flame-eyed bat during the blaze in room 122, the secret lab at the school (that probably caused the fire), OSI’s investigation, and the shadow-black figure with the wildfire hairs I'd seen on the stairs, and most recently, in the drowning dream. I just talked on and on, bringing up what felt like an anthology of bad dreams.
In one of the nightmares, I ran along Highway 58 on a 晴れ Okinawa day. One where the sea and sky appear to merge forming an interminable illusion. It was a training run.
Every heel strike ended with a powerful thrust to the next. My ponytail swished with a rhythmic sway. With Kadena BX Ray Bans to block the sun, orange sports top with matching thigh length shorts, tangerine striped Nike sneakers, a sheen of sweat on my face and lower back completed the look, I could have made the cover of Runner’s World.
If it had ended there everything would have been fine. But I wasn’t so lucky.
Brilliant day turned to deviant night with no notice. My skin constricted, pupils expanded, breathing came in short pants as I sprinted. Everything burned inside and out as I dashed down the now infinitely dark highway. I couldn’t tell exactly what was chasing me, but as my body fatigued, a cold touch, like two frozen fingers made dormant micro hairs in my back stand.
Then I hit a wall. It was white brick, just like the side of the school. Out of road, nowhere left to run, I whirled to face my pursuer.
I didn’t see anything. Only heard it. It repeated my name: Zeeena, Deliverer, 橋様…
Chest heaving, back against the literal wall I braced myself.
“What do you want!?”
Zena, Zena, Zena…
I didn’t hear my name after that. Only my ragged winded breath entering and exiting my taxed lungs.
Then a flash of white slits appeared before my eyes.
ZENA!
“I screamed. And that’s when it entered my mouth,” I said. I decided to catch my breath and give James a chance to respond.
He listened carefully the whole time. His reactions lagged by several stories. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was tired or if it was too much or too unbelievable to take in. I wished I knew what he was thinking. If I asked, he'd get cross. “What are you thinkin'?” He hated that question when it was general. (“If it’s important, I’ll tell you.”) – is what he used to say during our early arguments. It had been a while since we had a big one. Was one on the way? I mentally prepared for it.
I said, “I’m… sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” The words came out in a whisper. “I just, didn’t wanna bother you while you were flyin' and busy with the mission n’ all.”
He let out a long breath. I got a whiff of the onions he’d had on the leftover teriyaki burger from Sandbox Burgers in 砂辺 last night. The scent wasn’t pleasant. But since this was his first night back in our bed in weeks, I didn’t make a stink about it. (That’s a joke he’d be proud of.)
“Z, I’m not mad. Just more sad that you’ve been dealing with this all this time, by yourself… Everything was just so hectic over there and… anyway, I shoulda checked in better.”
I stared at the bumps of my knees under the blanket. He was right. But it didn’t matter. Playing ‘who’s right, who’s wrong’ was a terrible relationship game – everyone lost. Because I had my fare share of fuckups, too.
Am I crazy? Where is this series of unfortunate events leading me? If it was only to this uncomfortable conversation, I should count myself lucky. Yet, I knew (and he probably did too) this was far from done.
“But for real Z, this shit is insane. Sure as hell would make a crazy movie, y’know, if somebody else starred in it.”
“James!”
“Think about it Z, who’d play you? Maybee, Florence Pugh?”
“Who’s that?”
“Y’know, British girl, she was in that creepy one, uh... oh yeah Midsommar! Remember, we saw it on fourth of July back when were at Nellis?”
I nodded, “Oh I remember! Shit, that was a scary one. It was at home, middle of the afternoon and I was still creeped out.”
“Right! Okay, okay, who’d play me?” He angled his chin, as if posing for a headshot. When the light and shadows found balance, I did see him on a movie poster. If his chin was a little less fat. I kept that comment to myself.
“Who was the guy in Top Gun: Maverick?”
“There were lots of dudes in that movie. Which one?”
I thought for a minute.
“And please don’t say Tom Cruise. I respect the guy, but he’s waay to old!”
That got a giggle out of me. “No not him, the one who saved em’ at the end from the Russian planes...”
He snapped his finger, “Oh! The kid who played “Hangman”, John Powell Jr., he’d be great!”
“You sure do know your movies, babe.” I patted his thigh.
“Well, with all the TDYs, you get to know em’ pretty well.”
We both stared at the wall for a minute. I couldn’t see the time, but it was getting light outside. The band of brightness beneath the blackout curtains signaled it.
“Z, you said this thing went into your mouth? How tall is this guy?”
I spit as I laughed. “James!”
“No, no Z, is there somethin’ you’re not telling me? Should I be jealous of this guy and his demon dick?”
“James Hampton Marlowe!” I slapped his arm. He rolled on top of me. Firm flesh, straight and narrow rammed against my upper thigh. My breath caught in my throat. This time no cough came out.
“Z, all joking aside… you might need help with all this.” He returned to his side of the bed. “I’m scared for you… for us. I have no idea how to attack this.”
Another period of silence dotted his sentence. I didn't know what to say. So I leaned on my elbow to face him. Then took his hand and squeezed it. “I am too. We’ll figure it out together like we always do.”
He returned a sweet smile. “How can I help?”
“Well, right now, that's easy. You can bring this guy over and send me to Heaven.” I reached for his manhood and gave it a controlled fondle.
“Gosh, you sure know how to make a guy and a demon feel special.”
Chapter 25
**LiCk_Em landed in the サーバー server.**
**BlueBaby <3 landed in the server.**
LiCk_Em: hey Cyan, u there?
BlueBaby <3: Yeah!
BlueBaby <3: uh, who is it?
LiCk_Em: it’s me, Lily
BlueBaby <3: Oh! I was about to block u
BlueBaby <3: stranger danger, y’know?
LiCk_Em: i get it
BlueBaby <3: what’s the deal w ur nam???
LiCk_Em: just an old middle school inside joke
LiCk_Em: never changed it, and it stuck
BlueBaby <3: what’s it mean? **thinking face**
LiCk_Em: just my initials and an ex-best friend’s
BlueBaby <3: emoji’s don’t work in here, why not? **confuse face**
LiCk_Em: i disabled em’. hate those damn things
LiCk_Em: text is more truthful
LiCk_Em: er, most of the time
BlueBaby <3: lily ur so smart! **clapping hands: medium-skin tone**
LiCk_Em: i guess
BlueBaby <3: so this is a Discord room?
LiCk_Em: technically it’s called a server, but yeah, it is
LiCk_Em: U never used it before?
BlueBaby <3: only wonce.. to play a game with my ex **downcast face with sweat drop**
LiCk_Em: oh
BlueBaby <3: __(・・・)
LiCk_Em: u mean Ethan?
**ThaCarterV_2 landed in the server.**
LiCk_Em: hello?
BlueBaby <3: Lily when are u gonna do yoga with me? **woman in lotus position: medium-skin tone**
LiCk_Em: uh, tbh probably never
BlueBaby <3: **disappointed face** why not??
LiCk_Em: only hot girls do yoga. that’s not me
BlueBaby <3: **smiling face with hearts** thanks for the compliment!
LiCk_Em: uh you’re welcome?
BlueBaby <3: but for reel, anybody can do it. U just need a mat so you don’t slide on the floor
LiCk_Em: I know. I tried it once
BlueBaby <3: u did!? **astonished face**
LiCk_Em: my freakinshly long limbs got tangled and I fell. Super fuckin embarrassing
BlueBaby <3: Ah no! **face with peeking eye**
BlueBaby <3: oh btw ur plenty hot. You have a hot brain
LiCk_Em: Thanks
ThaCarterV_2: yo took me a while to get on
ThaCarterV_2: dad was trippin’ about somethin’
ThaCarterV_2: -1000 aura **down arrow**
BlueBaby <3: **fearful face**
LiCk_Em: Ethan the rizzler
ThaCarterV_2: not really
ThaCarterV_2: what we talkin’ about? Lily’s hotness?
LiCk_Em: No. there’s nothing to talk about there
BlueBaby <3: **face with raised eyebrow**
ThaCarterV_2: c’mon Lily ur at least a 7.5, pushin 8 even I’d say
LiCk_Em: Ok. Same numbers apply to ur basketball skill
LiCk_Em: minus 3
BlueBaby <3: Ethan, why u talkin’ about her ‘hotness’ anyway? **face with steam from nose**
LiCk_Em: better listen to waifu
ThaCarterV_2: sheesh! I was jus tryin’ to be nice @LiCk_Em
ThaCarterV_2: @BlueBaby <3 last I checked we’re broken up, so imma say whatever
BlueBaby <3: ur so mean! **loudly crying face**
LiCk_Em: I was too
LiCk_Em: cooked
**Tengo H landed in the server.**
Tengo H: Where’s Jordan?
ThaCarterV_2: @BlueBaby <3 sorry
ThaCarterV_2: you know I think ur the hottest
BlueBaby <3: __(・・・)
LiCk_Em: Ethan ur so beta
BlueBaby <3: **face holding back tears**
**Zena Marlowe landed in the server.**
LiCk_Em: @Tengo T you know he gonna be late. always has been.
ThaCarterV_2: u hate everybody don’t you?
LiCk_Em: Not true. I like Jordan and Cyan and Tengo and Ms. Marlowe
ThaCarterV_2: hey that’s everyone but me. why?
LiCk_Em: insecurity isn’t a good look. Ur supposed to be our leader right? Act like it!
ThaCarterV_2: I never said I was
LiCk_Em: we got weird portals opening up in ruins, malevolent forces around, school’s weird as fuck, u gonna step up or not?
BlueBaby <3: __(・・・)
Zena Marlowe: Lily, language!
LiCk_Em: oh my bad ms Marlowe
ThaCarterV_2: …imma get better, u watch
Zena Marlowe: Hey hey calm down, y’all are on the same team, remember?
BlueBaby <3: ur doin ok Ethan
ThaCarterV_2: **saluting face**
BlueBaby <3: **saluting face**
Tengo T: that’s right
LiCk_Em: right
BlueBaby <3: what does [y’all] mean? **thinking face**
LiCk_Em: @BlueBaby <3 really?
LiCk_Em: you + all = y’all (southern US slang)
BlueBaby <3: oh
Zena Marlowe: has anyone seen Jordan?
LiCk_Em: forever late
BlueBaby <3: never heard it before
BlueBaby <3: thanks Lily **star-struck face**
Zena Marlowe: Got it.
ThaCarterV_2: Can’t believe you’re bein’ looked at by OSI @Zena Marlowe
BlueBaby <3: btw Lily, I think you and Jordan would make a cute couple **smiling face with heart eyes**
ThaCarterV_2: It’s all my fault
Zena Marlowe: __(・・・)
LiCk_Em: why? Because we’re both tall and fat?
Zena Marlowe: Ethan, no it’s not. There’s lots of other things involved. It’s gonna be alright
BlueBaby <3: **flushed face** no no! cuz ur both smart and misterious
Zena Marlowe: That’s why I wanted us to meet here. It’s not safe to meet at school,
Zena Marlowe: I’m being watched. That means all of you are too.
ThaCarterV_2: shit
BlueBaby <3: ooOOo **fearful face**
Tengo T: …
LiCk_Em: oh that’s great
LiCk_Em: who's watching us?
Tengo T: Or what?
Zena Marlowe: Lily, school admin.
Zena Marlowe: Tengo... I'm not sure.
BlueBaby <3: **frowning face with open mouth**
Zena Marlowe: I don’t mean to scare you.
Zena Marlowe: But from now on, don’t trust anyone you don’t know.
Zena Marlowe: If you see something, say something to the rest of us.
Tengo T: I heard something about the portal.
Zena Marlowe: What is it?
Tengo T: Yomitan patrols reported there were several eyewitnesses when it opened.
LiCk_Em: and??
Tengo T: All said they saw a local elderly man who got “swallowed” by the “gate”
BlueBaby <3: **face with open eyes and hand over mouth** **astonished face**
Zena Marlowe: I hadn’t heard that.
Zena Marlowe: Could it be one of the “gates” from the legend you mentioned the other day?
Tengo T: Likely
ThaCarterV_2: shit, why all the “legends” gotta end up bein’ real?
Zena Marlowe: Ethan.. language
ThaCarterV_2: **grimacing face** sorry Ma’am
Zena Marlowe: Anything else, Tengo?
Tengo T: The witnesses reported seeing a large man-shaped shadow as they fled from Zakimi.
Tengo T: Wore a robe in the style of the ancestors
BlueBaby <3: u mean like the ones in the WW2 museum in the south?
BlueBaby <3: forgot the name. but it was so sad!
LiCk_Em: Peace Prayer Memorial Park (平和祈念公園)
Tengo T: yes, like those
Tengo T: Witnesses said it got real cold, like “sticking your hand in a freezer on a hot day” was what one of them said.
**BrainRot_Baller landed in the server.**
Zena Marlowe: __(・・・)
Tengo T: I saw him too
LiCk_Em: the man-shadow? how?
Tengo T: In a dream last night
ThaCarterV_2: aw here we go
LiCk_Em: look who’s here
BrainRot_Baller: yo everyone, sorry I’m late
BlueBaby <3: hey Jordan
BrainRot_Baller: had a gnarly nightmare
BrainRot_Baller: some demon chick was chasin me
BrainRot_Baller: got me in the end
BrainRot_Baller: had to get a shower in to get clean
ThaCarterV_2: u sure it wasn’t Lily?
BlueBaby <3: **smiling flushed face with hand over mouth**
LiCk_Em: ha ha ur so lucky Ms. Marlowe is here
ThaCarterV_2: cap
Tengo T: Ms. Marlowe?
Zena Marlowe: Yes, Tengo?
Tengo T: I got an idea. We should go see my cousin. She’s a noro
BrainRot_Baller: what the skibidi is that?
BlueBaby <3: No-ro? Is that a kind of sushi?
BlueBaby <3: never eaten it
ThaCarterV_2: **squinting face with tongue**
Tengo T: No. It’s a class of Okinawan psychic who possess spiritual powers. They deal in the supernatural
Tengo T: Locals go to them for guidance sometimes
Tengo T: Especially when things get weird… or dangerous spiritually
BlueBaby <3: **worried face**
Zena Marlowe: That sounds like exactly what we need. Can you set it up?
Tengo T: Yeah. Ill text her
Chapter 26
Under an overcast 空 sky I stood outside of the weathered house. Its drab color matched the clouds above, mirroring my mood.
The students were behind me. Lily, in her saggy clothes, wore a sour expression. Cyan fiddled with her braids as she snuck glances at Ethan beside her. Jordan, dressed in island attire—colorful shirt, standard shorts—flanked Lily. His lips were unreadable. Tengo was at the door to the bland building, texting his cousin.
I realized my heart was throbbing. Meeting off school grounds was different than speaking with them in the relative security of my classroom or with the encrypted protection of a Discord server. This was the real world. Wide open. No walls. And something was watching. I could feel it. I wanted to drop and do 20 pushups to give my body a reason to rev up. But the coral sharp street at my feet made it a bad idea.
What if someone sees us?
Are we doing the right thing?
Am I doing the right thing?
“Okay guys, she’s on her way,” Tengo said.
“This is mad lit! Just wanna say you people are an amazing team,” Ethan piped up.
“Oh captain my captain.” Lily shot him a skeptical glance.
“You told me step up, so here it is,” Ethan flexed his chest, “sides’ who else can literally put the team on their back?”
Lily scoffed.
Jordan’s head hooked toward his phone. He was mesmerized by some game. Ethan slapped his arm. “Hey man, put it up, we got shit goin’ on. Play later.”
Jordan shrugged, then slid his phone back into his pocket. “Awright, awright man I hear you.”
Lily silently made a mocking face at him.
Cyan looked at Ethan with pride. But he didn’t notice.
The door opened.
“Tengo-kun you made it! 友達も持ってきた！楽しい！”
“こんにちは Rika.”
“どうぞ！どうぞ！入りなさい！Come in!”
The young woman waved us in. She was in a brown t-shirt and jeans, about average height, medium build with a keen pair of focused eyes – trademarks of a model student.
It was my first time in a Japanese home. The space was tight. We entered in pairs to 靴を脱いでremove our shoes in the cramped entryway. I hoped my foot funk wasn’t too offensive. (The thick post storm humidity got them sweating more than usual.)
Inside we gathered (squeezed) around a low wooden table. Jordan and Ethan winced and groaned as they labored to spread their oversized limbs in a comfortable way. Lily sat in an easy cross-legged position. She watched with amusement as the two boys shifted awkwardly on the 畳 floor. Cyan's shortness made sitting a non-issue. Before I knew it, she'd already been drawn to the foreign surroundings; her mouth agape the with rapt wonder of being in a previously sealed off world for the first time.
“Is everyone okay?” Rika asked. Her voice was sturdy and sweet.
All of us (except Lily and Tengo) gave her strained smiles, disguising various discomforts.
“We'll bring you some tea,” she cast a sharp look at her cousin, who had his face in his phone, “Tengo, we.”
The young man slowly got to his feet and with a face red with shame, followed her into the kitchen.
While we waited, I examined the room. Even though it had two stories, the house had a reverse Alice in Wonderland effect going on - smaller on the inside than the outside. The way the furniture was arranged contributed to the closed off feeling: a large sofa was crammed in between two hulking cabinets filled with pictures of family members and trinkets. Flakes of weathered wood indicated the shelf had been there for (possibly) decades. The salt-infused air of the island acted like acid, slowly eating away at its carrying capacity.
Across the room, a massive TV sat on a stand that looked too unstable to support its weight. It walled off the only window in the living room. Old family photos surrounded the walls. I studied them like a student should. The rows spanned the eras of photography, corresponding with the island’s evolution. Time eaten sepia-colored prints from the World War II years, blended with the first cloudy color photos of the 1960s, then to sharper imaged Polaroids with their distinctive white borders from the 1970s and 1980s. Judging by the rushed spacing and the increased number of pictures, new rows that included the digital prints of the 21st century, were recent additions. The lines nearly extended to the tiny Buddhist altar with a single framed black and white photo of an elderly Japanese woman with puffy white hair. I smelled a faint whiff of incense. The sight of the memorial made me temporarily forget why I'd gone there.
Believe it or not (somehow) there were two more smaller shelves that fit into the crook of the room. On them, rusted fishing equipment sat beside an assortment of Japanese and American knick-knacks: beautiful glass figurines, plastic toys of winking cats, a miniature of an F-16 fighter jet, and other items I couldn’t recognize. A fishy smell circled the air, overpowering the calming fragrance of the incense.
It tingled the hairs of my nose. How they fit so much stuff in such a tiny space was incredibly impressive.
A profoundly elderly man with bushy gray eyebrows emerged from the kitchen. He carried four small cups of brown liquid between his knuckles, then set them down in the center of the table. His smile never faded.
Tengo helped him get more drinks. When they were done, he told the old man,
「ありがとう、おじさん」then sat back down at the table with Rika.
I caught arigatou but not the other word. There was warmth behind it though.
I took up the cold drink and had a slow sip. Its woody flavored coolness was refreshing in the stuffy room.
“What is this drink?” Ethan asked.
“麦茶 Barley tea, do you like it?” Rika responded.
“Yeah, it’s real good. The rest of the team agrees. Right guys?”
The other students gave nods of various intensity. Even Lily seemed to be cooperating with Ethan’s new role (even if it was somewhat self-appointed).
Tengo’s cousin looked no older than twenty-five, but judging by the sharpness of her speech, she was highly intelligent. Even though she was dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, I sensed she’d be a big help. Small chunks of the glacierized anxiety that froze my heart calved into the waiting cold sea of uncertainty beneath. My skin tingled familiarity in newfound safety.
“You are Miss Marlowe, right? Tengo told me about you.”
“Yes, he’s quite an impressive student.”
“本当？” She raised an eyebrow in Tengo’s direction. He lowered his head.
“You talkin’ about someone else, right? This one is always on the phone.” She shoved his head with a heavy hand.
It made me tense, but I managed a polite smile. “Yeah, y’know kids and their phones. They can’t live without em’ these days.”
“Yes of course! I understand. But you’re here because of the gate right?”
My abs stiffened. In my awkward position on the floor, so did my left hip. How do they sit at these low tables?
“Yes. One opened up in Yomitan and weird things have been happening at the school.”
“火事だった。The fire, I heard. Very scary.”
“It was. A student got hurt.” I glanced at Cyan. Her cheeks flushed.
Out of nowhere, Rika thrust her face in front of mine. I flinched backward. I hadn’t expected that. She appeared to be looking for something as she scanned - I had no idea what. The students sat still as if they’d become one of the many objects placed around the room. After what felt like a short eternity she returned to her spot on the floor.
“You spoke to them?”
I swallowed, “No, but…”
“They spoke to you?”
Everyone’s eyes were on me.
“No… there’s no words. But it’s there. I know it. I can feel it.”
“I do too. Okinawa’s famous for ghosts and supernatural things… stuff that steals sleep…”
My temples pulsed as I looked her in the eyes. The students wore perturbed expressions. As if they were all watching It waiting for the arrival of Pennywise.
“You mean like… real ghosts?” Jordan’s voice was higher than normal.
She nodded. “Maybe worse than that.”
“What can we do?” Cyan asked. She held a hand in front of her mouth.
“We close the door.”
“You mean the gate?” I responded.
“Yes.”
“How?” Lily found her voice for the first time since entering the house.
“With holy weapons. Let me show you something.”
Chapter 27
I didn’t expect there to be a 裏の庭 backyard. However, I suspected what Rika wanted to show us was more than just a vegetation wrapped fence.
Under a still bright, cloud covered sky, we filed into the cramped space. Our bodies brushed against the dense air. I spied a broken stone lantern lying half-buried in the scraggly grass. The fence surrounding us was sagging, choked by twisting vines that seemed determined to reclaim whatever space they could find. Sweating shoulder to shoulder, swatting mosquitoes off our arms and necks, none of us were comfortable, except for Tengo.
He wiped a glaze of humidity from his glasses with the hem of his shirt as he stood patiently among the green.
Jordan commented, “Feels like we stepped into Jumanji.”
Lily covered her mouth to conceal her laughter.
“Yeah except there’s no Ruby for eye candy,” Ethan said.
Cyan kicked his shin as she scowled.
“Hey! Oww!” Ethan moaned.
“That’s what you get,” she said tersely. “Miss Marlowe, how long do we have to be out here? I’m starting to sweat! So gross!”
“I’m not sure. Hold on a little longer, ‘kay?” I looked to Rika. The haze of heat, nor the bugs seemed to bother her.
The affable smile from a few minutes ago was gone. Her eyes got serious as if some sanguine spirit had possessed her and taken control.
“Remember that crystal ball in the basement of the school?” she asked. The students shifted, exchanging wary glances. I felt a prickle of unease creep down my spine.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied, arms crossed, “What about it?”
“How do you know about that?” I asked.
“The island carries messages, in the water, wind, and earth. As a noro, I can sense some of these signals, especially during times when she’s in distress.”
She? My heart began to race. A sweeping breeze, heated and strong, lifted my hair.
“Oh.” That was the only word I could manage in the moment.
Rika’s expression softened as she explained. “Crystal balls, especially here, are more than just tools for fortune-telling. They’re ancient conduits. Used to tap into the energies that flow through places like this island.” She gestured toward the ground beneath our feet. “They allow those energies to manifest, to be seen and shaped.”
Lily frowned. “So, like some kinda magic trick? Ridiculous.”
Rika continued, unoffended, “As an outsider, I can see how it’s hard to believe. But it’s no trick. Think of it more like an amplification.” Her eyes found mine. “What you saw—the purple light—it wasn’t a show. It was Okinawa’s energy, reaching out to you, strengthening your mabui.”
Cyan chimed in, “So that's what Principal Kane meant by enhancing student performance!”
Ethan put his hand on his chin. “Shit, I hadn't thoughta that. Good one.” He put his hand up and Cyan clapped with a gleeful high five.
Mabui. I’d heard the word before, but I didn’t understand it. Now that she mentioned it, an unlabeled 箱 box illuminated in the storage room of my subconscious. I was almost ready to peel it open and inspect the contents.
Jordan raised his hand low. “What does that mean for us?”
Rika tilted her head in consideration. “Your intuition and connection to the Great Island Mother have grown stronger. It means that your senses, your awareness of things beyond this world, have been heightened. You can feel her now. You’ll be able to do things you couldn’t before.”
My throat tightened, and my vision blurred for a second. Great Island Mother? Great Island Mother, I’d written those words before:
“The Great Island Mother didn’t seem to want me well.”
“Okinawa is a mother; sheltering secrets, secreting shelters as she provides a panoply of protection for her people.”
Why did I write that?
Images flashed—moments I’d been trying to forget. Shadows watching me in my classroom, blood that shouldn’t have been there, and the eyes of my students, staring, unblinking alarm red.
It wasn’t random. It was a pattern, a warning. Everything clicked into place, but the flood of understanding overwhelmed me. I wanted to speak, to ask the questions clawing at my throat, but my lips stayed shut.
Rika must’ve noticed the shift in my face, because she gave me a small, knowing smile—a reassurance that what I was feeling wasn’t just paranoia. It was real. “You’re starting to see it, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.
I nodded, the weight of it all settling in. But there was so much more I needed to know. So many pieces still missing. I knew those answers would have to wait.
Rika gave a measured smile. “I’ll try to mold your mabui into weapons you can use to seal the gates.”
“Try?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean try? Coach says ‘Don’t try. Do, learn, then do it again.’… or somethin’ like that.”
Out of sight, Cyan beamed at him.
A hint of embarrassment flickered across Rika’s face. “I’m only a junior noro,” she admitted. “My weapon summoning ability is… limited. I’ve failed the weapon summoning certifications several times.”
Jordan blurted out, “Damn, there’s magic tests now? Is this a Harry Potter rip-off or what?”
Lily smacked his arm, hard enough that he yelped. “Show some respect,” she said in a hushed tone, but a smile tugged at her lips.
Rika sighed. “I might need to call 先輩 senpai for help.”
Cyan appeared lost.
Lily whispered in her ear, “Senpai means ‘master’ or ‘teacher’." Cyan nodded her head with zeal.
“That’s fine,” I said, stepping forward. I could feel the tension in her, the doubt. I wanted her to know we were with her. “Whatever ya need, we trust you.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded. “Okay. Everyone, stand back.”
The students stepped away as she turned her attention to me. She raised her hands, palms open, and aimed them at me. She shut her eyes and began to chant.
Soon the air shifted: parts of it became waving cold others were a low boil - the energy around me thickened like homemade cake batter after vigorous mixing. She continued to chant. The ground beneath me pulsed, expressing seemingly dormant desire. Heat radiated up my shoes. My heartbeat synced with the rhythm of her voice. Then my hands tingled, and a light—soft at first—began to swell between us.
That glow intensified. There was pull. It yanked a pulsar-weighted core from deep within and drew it out. A thread - sizzling and luminous - wound out of me like stitches being removed from a once bloody wound. As it went out, a lavender light twisted and took shape in my hand, solidifying into a weapon—a hook blade with a short hefty wooden handle, emerged. Its scythed edge gleamed in the sunlight. The blade, sharp and curved, was heavier than I expected, my arm muscles quivered as if gripping a ten pound dumbbell. The whole thing only took a minute, but I was winded. I realized I’d been holding my breath almost the entire time. Breathe. I reminded myself.
“Whoa,” Ethan said, “That’s sick.”
Tears ran from Cyan’s eyes.
Lily and Jordan wore similar expressions of disbelief.
Tengo’s mouth gaped. “I didn’t know it was possible…”
“How do you feel?” Rika asked.
With effort, I lifted the blade, feeling its weight drag against my arm. It was awkward, heavy, and unnatural. “How am I supposed to use this?” I asked, struggling to keep it steady. “I can barely keep it up.”
“That’s what he said,” Lily said softly to Jordan. He coughed out a single laugh.
Rika’s gaze was patient. “It’ll feel more natural with time. It’s connected to your mabui. Trust it.”
I nodded, but doubt still lingered. This was no ordinary weapon; it was a part of me now, and that realization weighed more than the blade itself.
Rika looked around the group. “Who’s next?”
Ethan stepped forward with his chest puffed out. “I should go next, bein' the leader and all.”
Rika laughed softly, but there was a seriousness in her eyes. “Of course. Are you ready?”
He squared his shoulders, as if braced for a hard hit from a rushing tackle. “Yeah, I’ll be good.”
Concern formed on Cyan’s features. “Ethan, be careful!”
He turned to her with a toothy grin and gave a thumbs up, “You know it.” He rotated back to Rika, “Let’s do dis.”
Rika began her chant again, the same focus etched on her face. The energy pulsed, and the air split into ribbons of ice and fire, but something was different this time. The light lasted, wavered, then flickered out. The weapon didn’t form. She opened her eyes, frustrated confusion, clouded her expression. Her face dipped, causing long hair hide her shame. “I don’t… I didn’t… I’m sorry… I couldn’t—”
Ethan’s face fell. He looked down, hands clenched into fists. “It’s fine. It’s prolly on me. Maybe I’m just too… fucked up for it to work.”
Cyan raised a hand to comfort him, but stepped back. Her lips puffed at a sad angle.
The others exchanged worried glances. Even Jordan seemed at a loss for words. No one spoke for a full minute. A crow, black and full, swooped on the fence, sampled the scene, then flew off. Nature could sense human anguish.
“That’s not how I taught you to do it.”
The voice was sharp, clear, and familiar. It hadn't come from anyone outside.
I snapped my head toward the back door of the house. Standing there, arms crossed and expression calm, was Yumi.
Chapter 28
I couldn’t believe Yumi was standing there 信じられない. With my arm burning from the bladed burden, head ready to capsize under the weight of questions, my vision tunneled. The others were just as shocked, including Rika.
“Akisamiyona! Uehara 先生, I-I didn’t expect you to come so soon.” She hid her face.
Yumi sauntered over to her disciple. Though she was shorter and smaller, in that moment she might as well have been a giant towering over her and the rest of us.
“I got your message via the ‘natural network.’ A distress call. So I came right over.”
“I’m so sorry to have disturbed you… I guess, I still have a long way to go before I become a true noro.” Rika said in a dejected tone.
Yumi shook her head, then lifted her student’s chin with a gentle finger. “It’s not a big deal. You’ll get there. Besides,” she looked over at me and the students, “I knew they would be here.”
At this point my 腕 had pre-numbness tingles. I leaned to the side awkwardly to redistribute my weight, which lit my lower back up as if I’d just done a fast round of deadlifts. In my sordid state, Yumi still smiled as she made her way over.
“Heavy, right?”
“Yumi… you’re a noro?”
She nodded easily. “Yeah. Have been for a long time.”
“Why didn’t ya say anything before? The voices, the visions, the fire, the gates… did you know about em’ the whole time?” The words came out louder and faster than I wanted or expected them to.
Yumi’s expression flattened. For the first time in the two years since we’d known each other, I couldn’t read her. It was as if a good neighbor had drawn the curtains of their house after always letting sunlight in – a closed off feeling followed.
“Kind of. But I didn’t know things would get this bad. I can’t predict the future, no one can. But I can read the signs. And Z, I knew you were in some shit—”
“Since when?” I asked, gripping the last remnants of my patience as tenuously as I did the weapon.
She raised a hand to comfort me, but lowered it at the last second. “Z, I’m sorry. Since the day the kids’ eyes bled, I noticed things were different with you. But the time wasn’t right to bring it up. These things never go how you think.”
The students looked on as if watching a live movie. All attention and awareness – this was way more interesting than any lesson on sentence structure or subject-verb agreement.
Unable to hold on a second longer, I involuntarily let the hook blade fall into the grass. Everyone gasped. The ghostly weapon, barely minted five minutes prior, burst like a firework at my feet. Highlighted purple sparks exploded then mixed into the afternoon sun, then it vanished. I was frozen; hands cold, expression exasperated beyond measure.
Rika was on the verge of tears. Yumi’s brow furrowed with a curious glance. Meanwhile, the old man who’d served us tea upon arrival (Tengo’s uncle?) stood in the doorway with a blank gaze.
“Is this how it’s supposed to go!?” I shouted. “Oh God, why is this happening?”
“Z, I… ”
I turned my head as a coughing fit assaulted me. It began as a tickle behind the tongue, then spread like gas meeting a spark in a car engine. Boom. Instant combustion from my lungs. One hack became two, two became six—soon I was on hands and knees, stomach contorting in agony while the smell of grass and blood blended in my nostrils; that’s about the time I saw the flecks of red in the saliva falling from loose lips, still the coughs continued—I heard voices, crying, yelling, someone saying—Deliverer, 橋様, clawed hands cutting my back, exposing my flesh to the air while a deviled grin with a soot-faced stare under burning hair mocked me, passing a message of challenge. Then there were hands on my back, steady, confident. A known luminescence lifted me up, released the pressure, wiped up the mess. When I blinked again, I was standing. Everyone gawked in bewilderment as I flexed my arm to find the hook blade there again. The heft was still notable, but less so.
“Z? Are you okay?”
I gulped. No words could describe the last few seconds of my 現実.
“Did I… did I lose it? I thought I lost it.” I breathed heavily as I worked to calm down. Somehow I managed not to sound hysterical as I glanced at the weapon.
Yumi smiled mysteriously, “But you found it right?”
“I suppose I did. But you didn't answer my question.”
She put a firm hand on my arm. “You asked, ‘why this is happening’ then I said, ‘because you can’t lose it.’”
“Lose what?”
“Your kama. That’s what your weapon is called.”
I looked at it again. It felt lighter. “Kama…” I chanced a swing with it. A visible mauve arc followed the blade. The students took steps back in amazement.
“Yumi, did you do this?”
She smirked, “You’re welcome. But there’s not much time to celebrate. You’ve heard them calling out to you? All of you have, haven’t you?”
One by one, Tengo, Ethan, Cyan, Jordan, and even Lily nodded.
Lily said silently, “Miss Uehara, even if we all get weapons, do we have a chance to close the gates? These… creatures, they’re pretty fuckin’ scary…”
Yumi stood with a powerful stance and said, “The only way is to enter each gate and break its crest. But it won’t be easy.”
Ethan made an effort to mirror her countenance, “Why not?”
“First reason is the only gate we know of, at Zakimi Castle, is sealed with some kind of powerful demon locking spell. I went up there and tried to go in. No luck. After some digging online and with some other locals with sight, I found that you gotta close the other gates before you can break the barrier and enter that.”
“Shit,” Ethan said. I didn’t have it in me to correct his or Lily’s language infractions.
“Second, we don’t know where the other gates are. They could be anywhere around the island. But we’ve gotta get ready because,” she looked at me, “that monster I mentioned is here. I don’t know what it wants, but whenever the other side appears like this, it’s rarely a good thing for us humans.”
Tengo’s uncle came rushing out mumbling something, then spoke privately to Rika. Her expression became fearful as she pulled out her phone to check a notification. Soon, all the students’ phones, then Yumi’s phone, and finally mine chimed and buzzed. It was a notification from the Kadena Connect app.
“5 MORE STRANGE GATES HAVE BEEN SPOTTED AROUND OKINAWA. PERSONNEL ARE ADVISED TO STAY AWAY FROM AREAS OF EMERGENCE.”
Chapter 29
In the 暁光 dawn light, Débora stood outside with a thin film of sweat spread across her collarbone. On the Sunabe seawall, the ocean - with lines of waves running over the dimness – dozed peacefully. However, she was wide awake. Débora stretched her arms above her head and took a large breath. Moist morning air served as an accelerant for what would become an unforgettable pre-dawn run.
She took her first stride when the air changed. A cold, uncanny prickling crawled up the back of her neck, halting her in place. Her breath hitched. Rain? No, the sky hinted at nothing but heat. This was something else—something beyond the physical, a presence that tugged at her, unseen but unmistakable. A force that watched with eyes sharp and fixed, like a predator that had chosen its prey.
Her skin tingled, not with excitement but with something colder, darker. Débora scanned the half-darkness, the horizon blurred by shadows. For a moment, the seawall felt too quiet, the distant murmur of the ocean too steady. Then, the world tore open. A shimmer of light rippled before her, bending reality itself as a jagged rift sliced the air open.
From the split, he stepped out.
But this was no man. Not even one of them as she had come to understand. His hair flared like a flame caught in the wind, flickering reddish-orange in the low light, though it cast no warmth. His onyx skin devoured the scant sunlight, absorbing it into an impossible void. He towered over her, draped in a sea-blue robe streaked with grime. His movements were deliberate, purposeful. Eyes like twin embers scintillated as they settled on her, and she felt her body react as if she were mid-run, muscles tensing, ready to bolt. But there was nowhere to go.
“おはよう、つまり、I apologize, Hello Débora,” he said. His voice had the register of Okinawa World’s largest taiko drum. There was a tremor in her bones at the sound of it.
She blinked, her breath coming too fast. “Who, who are you?”
“I am うふざとう.”
A name. But not just a name—a command, a weight that pressed against her, as if saying it had already bound her to something unspoken.
Débora swallowed hard. Coiled dread threaded through her head to toe. “I-I can't believe it. You're really here…”
Otherworldly magnetism – thrumming, irresistible - drew her toward him. Out of instinctual desire, she extended a hand to touch his arm. He stood with a severe stance while scrutinizing the path of her hand gliding over his skin.
Despite the inferno-like glow that surrounded him, his body was cold—wrongly cold, like touching something alive that had no pulse. Her fingers skimmed from his arm to his exposed chest, her breath stuttering as the chill crept into her bones.
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t react. He simply watched her with unreadable eyes—eyes that were far too still.
Then, in a blink, he vanished.
Débora gasped, spinning, but he reappeared instantly, a full step back, distance restored. He stood there, unfazed, as if nothing unusual had just happened.
“あんたは変な人… You are… strange,” he said, his tone undecipherable, “でも I would like your help with an important matter.”
Débora forced herself to breathe, even though her pulse pounded in her throat. "What is it?"
“Your experiments at the school,” he said, voice calm yet domineering. “They must accelerate. Double the rate.”
She stepped back and frowned. “I… can't do that.”
“どうしてそうしないの？ Why not?”
“Because—because higher doses of exposure could harm the students. If I increase exposure, the hosts might not survive it. And people would notice.”
The being listened with contemplative features, then blinked away—gone.
He appeared behind her, dangerously close. She screamed. Her muscles locked as icy fingers, sharp as hooks, closed gently around her bare shoulders. His voice, now close to her ear, reverberated through her.
“I've spoken to them.”
“You, you have?”
“Yes. I have their ear. Do this and anything you desire shall be yours.”
“Anything?”
She knew what it meant. The students—innocent, unaware—would be the price. But the studio, the lab... how else would humans move forward?
“They will see it done.”
A picture of the perfect gift materialized in her mind. An infinite studio of experimentation filled wall to wall with scientific and creative instruments. The rigor and roam fusion of the unrelated fields fascinated her. It always had since she was a girl growing up in Brazil.
Unbidden, her a vision displayed in her mind—Campinas—the city came rushing back to her in a fleeting wave of nostalgia; afternoons beneath sprawling ipê trees, golden blossoms scattered across the calçadas in gentle celebration, Saturday mornings wandering the bustling Mercado Municipal, the scent of frutas frescas and café waving around the chatter of vendors calling out in the melodic cadence among old streets dotted with colorful colonial fachadas, tracing her fingers along the cracked plaster, feeling the stories etched into their surface. Her brother, vibrant, smiling - alive.
A yearning for home haunted a rarely visited recess in the alley of her spirit. A part of her, long buried beneath layers of ambition, stirred.
She tightened her back to clear her head. The action released tension before she made her request. Her voice trembled, knotted with excitement and fear, “I want... a studio. And a lab. All in one place. In Brazil. Campinas. Can they do that?”
“It's a simple thing. All earthly things are.”
A beat of silence passed.
“We'll need to bring someone else in,” she murmured.
“Who?”
“The Principal of the school. He'll make the coordinations to get it done.”
Suddenly, うふざとう dropped to one knee, a guttural growl ripping from his throat. His fist slammed into the pavement repeatedly, causing the ground to quake. Débora stumbled back, blood coursing through her at double-time speed. Down the boardwalk, an elderly couple paused their morning walk, their distant figures silhouetted against the brightening sky.
“Are you… okay?”
He rasped, the words low and broken.「俺はまだ弱いんだ…」
“What was that?”
“I am still weak. It takes energy to communicate with you.” He sounded winded as if he'd just finished a sprint. “Do you have a phone?”
“Of course. Why?” The elderly couple moved closer.
“借りていい? M-may I borrow it?”
She hesitated, as her muscles quivered under subconscious strain.
“Why?”
“I want to show you what your ドリームスタジオ will look like.”
Her trembling hand dug into a thin pocket sewn into her slate gray leggings, then placed it in his. The pads of her fingers stung from the cold.
Before she could react, he disappeared, reemerged behind her, then held out his arm in front of them both to snap a candid selfie.
The phone’s flash fired, not once but three times in rapid succession, the light stuttered unnaturally. Débora blinked, the afterimage searing into her vision, but when her eyes refocused, he was gone. Only the sudden, oppressive silence remained.
Débora spun in search, but didn't see him. The only figures in the distance were the elderly couple, now stopped to take their own pictures with an actual digital camera. The lens glinted in the rising sun.
The sea mumbled in the distance. The waves too calm, too steady, as if waiting, watching. Her body shook at the sight of it. The ocean was no longer a place of peace but a thing alive, and aware.
As she began walking back to her hotel, bewilderment gnawing every step, he reappeared—warping the space between them. His body shimmered, fading in and out of reality. “ごめん... I mean, ‘sorry’. Here's your phone.”
"Where did you-?"
He was nearly invisible now, barely more than a wisp of light. “We are connected. Make good on your deal... or next time, I won't be so...優しい...”
With that he disappeared. His fading form left a crackling in the air like a film reel misaligned. A bassy din sounded with cave-darkened reverb, trailing at a misfired frequency in her ears, as if something had been left behind. Her phone buzzed oddly in her hand as the sound of the awakening cobalt sea cackled in her ears.
「大丈夫ですか?」
The voice startled her. She spun to find the elderly couple just behind her, much closer than they should have been. It was the woman.
“Are… you… alright?”
The woman's lips moved, but the words lagged behind, as if they weren't quite synced to the movements. The question stretched longer than it should.
She peered at Débora with a soft concern that seemed almost too perfect. The eyes lingered too long, nonblinking, more practiced than real. Beside her, the husband’s wrinkly pale face folded into an unnerving sad clown frown.
“I-I'm fine,” Débora muttered, forcing a shaky smile.
The man, a potbellied American, glanced at his wife, then back at Débora. His gaze as still as the reverse smile plastered to his face. In the light it appeared to lengthen the longer he looked. One of his feet angled toward the water.
“Okay, good… you take care of yourself.” The American tugged at his wife's arm to lead her away at a brisk pace.
“I told ya she ain't right. Talkin' ta herself like that. Crazy…” Débora heard the man say in a not-so-low voice.
Talking to myself?
***
Back in her hotel room, Débora’s fingers trembled as she opened her email. One subject line stood out from the rest. It glitched and rumbled with twitching text. She tapped it with a sweat dotted fingerprint, causing the screen to smudge.
What she saw made her head spin. A headache bloomed as she dialed Victor. No answer, voicemail. Frantic, she texted him, her thumbs moved faster than her mind.
“Call me ASAP. I need your help.”
Chapter 30
I can enjoy my breakfast in peace.
Victor’s thoughts came easily as he sat alone in a booth at Café Latte. Mid-morning at the Kadena Officer’s Club was a sparse crowd, a time he could enjoy the dry “frisbee” pancakes without disturbance. It would be a short-lived respite.
Across the room, a TV played muted images from the American Forces Network. The NBA Eastern Conference finals flashed on the screen. So, Boston and Indiana made it this year? Victor wasn't much of a basketball fan, but he couldn't help stealing glances at the intense competition.
Out of reflex, he checked his phone, even though he’d placed it on silent and flipped it face down.
He nearly choked on a mouthful of his food when viewed his notifications.
Three missed calls and ten messages, half from Débora. His polo shirt felt tighter on his torso as he scanned her words.
Shit. He dialed her number then waited. While he did, quick footsteps clicked between the tables. It was her.
She slid into the booth across from him and removed her oversized sunglasses. Victor noted her appearance: casual, jeans and a t-shirt. Face free of makeup, skin dry, brown eyes expanded and tense - not like her at all.
“You didn’t answer your phone, so I drove over.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Oh Victor, you’re always here on your mornings off.”
She noticed. Victor grinned at the thought.
“So glad you noticed. What happened to you?”
“I’ve made contact!” She laughed low and hysterical while leaning in. “Meu Deus! One of them fucking appeared in front of me!”
Victor felt his heart punching in his throat so hard he could barely speak. “Shh, shh keep your voice down.” His head swiveled conspicuously, then he mirrored her movement. They appeared as two teenagers discussing which teacher was giving it good to another less worthy one.
He gulped the clump of food down, wiped his mouth, then said, “You can’t be serious? Wait, you are, or you wouldn’t be here. What did he, or it, tell you?”
“Oh it’s definitely a he.”
Débora’s dreamy smile told him all he needed to know. He found himself stuffing out scathing jealousy.
“Take a look at this.” She unlocked her phone and opened her email, then rotated it toward him.
What he saw made his blood run cold. In the flash of the motion-blurred photo was Débora and a crooked blackfaced demon. A scissor sharp-toothed yellow smile contrasted the soot-colored visage. The hair was a forest fire freshly burning hot; his withered pelt nearly cheek to cheek with the supple skin of her unsuspecting face. Victor’s hands took on ice bath temperature. He sat back and shook them to get blood flowing again.
“D-Débora what, no who is this??”
Her expression didn’t change. “He called himself ‘うふざとう,’” she said with enunciated Japanese.
“Uffu-what?”
“うふざとう, I know strange name.” She let out an audible sigh when she said it.
“It sounds like a demon’s name,” Victor said in a coarse whisper. His tone was as disapproving as it was incredulous.
“You’re not wrong. But that's not all. Scroll down.”
He reached a reluctant finger toward her phone and swiped up. The rest of the email made his feet react as if they’d been submerged into freezing Atlantic water. There would be no shaking to reawaken them without attracting attention, so he sat with the numbness. His mind was similarly clouded, blocked by a cloak of fear for himself and for her.
“Débora, you’re being blackmailed by a demon!” He managed to keep his voice to a low whisper by some holy effort.
She nodded her head. There was her usual poise, but he noticed she had been knocked off balance. A slight nudge might send her careening over the edge.
“I know. That's why I need your help—”
“Débora… this is insane.”
She assumed a dignified posture, looking more like her normal self.
“We need to double the experiment rate.”
Victor stiffened. “Débora… you know we can’t.”
“I thought so at first, too. But I ran a few numbers. If we're careful and up the dose phantovine—”
“Débora—”
“—it should be safe.”
“Débora, do you hear yourself? You're talking about risking student lives! We agreed we’d never go that far. Molding model students is one thing, but this… well hell, we have no idea what will happen if we turn things up. Well at least I don’t… do you?”
She diverted her eyes for a second too long. “No, I don’t…”
Victor groaned and dropped his hands by his plate.
“Victor, Victor listen.” She reached across his now cold breakfast and clasped his hands. They were warm and wet with perspiration, but still soft. Any student who passed by right now would see them as boyfriend and girlfriend. The thought redirected circulation back to his extremities.
“You read the message. If we don’t do this, I'll be exposed. My entire career and life ruined, for what? Because I wanted us to be better than we are. Is that fair?”
He looked into her eyes. “I guess not, but…”
“I also can't guarantee that you won’t be implicated in the fallout out.”
Victor lowered his head in defeat. “I suspected that.”
“Then you'll help me find a way?”
“Débora we're talking about some otherworldly creature. What if he's already done something?”
“Like what?”
“Like he’s possessed you or something? How do I know you're… you?”
She thought for a moment. “You’re right, there's nothing I can do to—”
Just then her phone vibrated between them causing it to rumble along the table's surface. Débora’s fingers clenched around his. For a second, they both stared at the electronic device as if it were a cursed object. The vibrations moved it as if by telekinesis against a plate of now soggy pancakes. She dropped his hands, relaxed her shoulders then swiped the phone off the table to read the message.
“Well?” Victor asked.
She looked up with her characteristic no-nonsense expression.
“It's him and he wants to meet you.”
Chapter 31
うふざとう materialized in the center of Victor’s living room. It was a junky flat, crushed by neighboring buildings outside the partially open window shades. Shoes were in disarray in the entry way. Flies clustered tightly in the sink’s drain, a writhing knot of filth. Brown and silver short curly hairs littered the place for bathing. This was a human house? It wasn't fit for the filthiest pig.
His fiery hair glowed against the muted earth tones of the walls. He inhaled deeply. There was sweetness in the air - like fresh strawberries. It smelled of the woman from the morning. The smolder of her body was an ember after a freshly stamped out cooking fire.
ついた。
Behind him, the front door slowly creaked open like a low scream, causing the flies to scatter. It was them—the woman and the man. At their entrance, a cold wind blew from うふざとう like vapors from the white box in the room of insects. The Scared Man - Victor.
Débora and Victor met him in the entryway as if he were the master of the house.
"Victor, this is... うふざとう," Débora said. Her voice wavered as she made the introduction.
Victor extended a hand, his grip firm despite the sheen of sweat on his palm. “It’s... a pleasure to meet you... Mr. Ufeesato—”
“うふざとう,” he corrected.
“Yes, yes, Ufiizati.”
うふざとう grinned. This was a funny man. His jaundiced razor-sharp teeth glinted in the soft light. The smile jagged as a broken mirror, each tooth a blade waiting to cut through words or skin.
“よろしくお願いいたします, Victor. Shall we sit?”
Victor gestured toward the polyleather sofa. He and Débora sat as a pair on the soft seat. うふざとう pulled a chair from a nearby dining table. The chair legs shrieked across the tile, though he moved them gently, as if gravity around him had greater density. He lowered himself into the seat in an impossibly slow motion. A blink that stretched too long, like a cat contemplating a kill. The chair accepted his weight. He leaned back, his posture relaxed yet commanding. “Débora told me about you.”
“S-she did?” He chanced a soft glare at her. Débora's gaze never left the creature, but she nodded almost imperceptibly. A signal to engage with the demon.
“I’m sure it was nothing but good things.” Victor said, swallowing with nearly every word.
“She said you could help us.”
“Well you see, we're running a very careful operation. There's not much wiggle room to do much more,” Victor said. He choked out the words, as if he’d bitten his tongue three times then tried to speak. “The risks—”
“The risks... are already taken. You feel it, don’t you? That small shift in your chest—like a rope loosening just before a fall.”
“I… I—” Victor shifted on the sofa. His thigh twitched like a string pulled too tight. His hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting—rubbing at invisible crumbs on his pants, smoothing his shirt into creases that didn’t exist.
“The risks are minimal compared to the rewards,” うふざとう interjected. “Imagine the power, the influence, the success that awaits you. She knows.” He flicked his head toward Débora.
Victor threw a fleeting look of concern at her, then immediately returned them to him. “I… see.”
Débora leaned forward, her eyes wide with fear and fascination. “He's growing stronger, Victor. Can't you see it?”
うふざとう chuckled, the sound was like the rustling of autumn leaves. 「お前たちの助けを借りて成長しています。我々は一緒に成長していく」
Victor eyed Débora with confusion without taking his eyes away from the demon. "Did you get that?"
“He said he’ll grow with our help. We grow... together,” Débora said softly. She patted Victor's thigh.
The man's face turned the color of a fresh apple. Embarrassment? Jealousy? Perhaps both.
“羨ましい人. You are red. Are you not well?”
"What exactly are you offering?" Victor chanced to ask.
うふざとう's eyes glittered with promise. "A chance to reshape the world, to mold the minds of the future. And for you, Victor, a place at the top. No more financial stress, or... trips to the," his dark pupils flitted upward, "...that place the, what was it? 18 M-D-G for the orange tubes with white caps. Ah yes. Forget the pills of power. Uncontested respect will be your reward.”
The man gulped a loud slushing sound. The wide-waisted woman sent a gentle finger into his side. うふざとう noticed the beating pulse in his neck grow less intense after her touch.
The words hung in the air. A seductive whisper that tugged at Victor’s deepest desires. He fidgeted. Dark puddles made pools under the arms of his polo. The sweat wasn’t normal—it slicked his arms like oil. A flame might make him combust. Every gesture appeared alien—inhuman. If he knew how alike they were, he might completely melt.
Victor secured his hands in his lap before asking, “And what about the students? The... subjects of our experiment?”
うふざとう gave a blithe reply. “They will live, differently. But alive. This bothers you? You've already come this far, Victor. Débora, told me. Why stop now? The gates are already open.”
“Gates?” His face turned toward her. Astonished. For the first time, うふざとう smelled fear from her, too.
Victor's gaze darted between Débora and うふざとう. Temptation tapped his shoulder. It was palpable.
“I'll help accelerate the experiments, b-but I won't be a part of anything that deliberately harms the students.”
うふざとう’s eyes narrowed, a hint of displeasure creased his brow. “Very well. But remember, Victor, opportunities like this don't come along often. Don't let your chance slip away.”
うふざとう rose from his seat. His form shimmered like a mirage as he raised his face toward the ceiling. He shut his eyes and his temples strained with concentration. “そうう、そういるよ。Soon, soon, 大丈夫、安心してくれ” They were pleased with him.
Both man and woman sat mouths ajar, with nothing but heavy breaths escaping them. うふざとう regarded them. “I go. Next week we will meet again.”
Out of his battered robes, he produced a stylish device with a large screen. The phone buzzed as he searched it, the vibration low and throaty, like a purring stray cat. The screen flickered, briefly showing something Victor couldn’t comprehend—like rows of symbols drawn with bones—before snapping back to normal. It said “SoftBank” on the back.
“I have you here.” He tapped the screen with a pointy dirt encrusted fingernail. 「また出会う」
With a final, enigmatic smile, a rip formed from a pitch-black scratch in the wavy space behind him. A thread of thunder rolled at its appearance. When he vanished, the lacerated atmosphere remained for a beat longer, like a gaping mouth trying to form words. Then it closed, too suddenly, with a clap. Overripe silence dominated while the room decompressed. The sun peeked from its hiding place. The flies crept back into the sink, their buzzing rattling the pipes louder than before.
When the sound died, the man and woman sat alone in the quiet of the room.
Chapter 32
Tengo sank his chin onto his knees. His lips tightened as he squinted in the sun. Everyone was having fun but him.
He straightened his back when a loud splash sounded below him.
It was Jordan. He labored to tiptoe his large body gingerly over the cutting rocks at the entrance of the enclosed swimming area and failed. He then made his way up the awkward slope to join him.
“Damn rocks cut my toe.”
“You alright?” Tengo asked.
“Yeah, just a little blood.”
Jordan adjusted his yellow and black palm tree swim trunks to sit right under his belly then plopped down beside him.
“What's on your mind, man? It’s like you’re still doin’ homework up here.” He leaned back, his broad shoulders stretched as he basked in the sun's warmth.
Tengo hesitated. His vision drifted back to the crystal-clear water.
“I don’t know. It’s just, it feels weird.”
“What does?”
“How it's been two weeks since the gates opened and now it’s all quiet. Don’t you think that’s odd?"
Jordan chuckled, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re thinkin’ too hard about this. The other day at your cousin’s we got it all sorted out. We got our weapons and we’re ready to kick demon ass anytime. We’re like the new fuckin’ Power Rangers.”
Tengo’s lips remained lined. “Have you tried yours out yet?”
“Plenty of times. But my mom gets mad when she sees me swingin’ it around. What about you?”
“It’s not a toy. But…”
Jordan eyed him expectantly, “Buut… you’ve messed around with it right? Something like yours that’s banned in so many places has gotta be cool.”
Tengo faced him, “They’re banned? Where?”
Where altered the wind’s direction. An ocean scented current floated by as usual... but just for a moment, Tengo swore it smelled like sulfur. The music crackled, as though the speaker had briefly lost signal, and a strange hum buzzed beneath the melody—something almost like a monk's chant - fervent, focused - just on the edge of hearing. He blinked, and it was gone.
Jordan sat up. “All over. Norway, Canada, Russia, Poland, Chile, and Spain have tight restrictions. The Germans’ll throw you jail for havin’ em, guess they think you might choke somebody out. There were even laws in the US. Cali and Massachusetts still have active bans against them. Somethin’ about old Bruce Lee movies bein’ a bad influence on the youth back in the70s and 80s. Ancient times, y’know.”
Tengo extended his hands. Studied them. The fact that he could call a potentially deadly weapon from them by force of will still held him in awe. What other hidden abilities had the gates opened up?
“Didn’t know nunchaku were so feared,” he said.
“I didn’t know I actually knew something you didn’t know.”
A small grin formed on Tengo’s lips, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Behind the boys, a scowling mother shouted at her two lanky sons stepping fast toward the water while she huffed to keep up. Ahead in the water, half a dozen muscled Marines held swimming contests to the nearby rock shrine. Six more lined up at the top to take the heart ripping eight-meter plunge into the shimmering water below. A typical busy summer day at the Marina, but none of it could pull Tengo from his ruminations.
Where are the other gates?
What could be coming out of them?
Why did they appear now?
Can I handle this?
Thoughts cascaded like Hiji Falls, crashing continuously on pulverized boulders – black and slick – of uncertainty.
Jordan wiped sweat off his face, pulled up his shorts over his previously exposed ass crack and said, “Man you’re probably overthinkin’ this. You heard your cousin. She didn’t get any reads about what to do, jus’ that the gates opened. And the whole world saw that on the news. I mean, even Uehara-san was stumped, y’know?”
Tengo nodded slow. “Yeah that’s true. But Rika’s still in training. So maybe…”
“You think she missed somethin’?”
“High chance she did.”
Jordan shrugged. His head traced a well-busted short Japanese girl in a blue and white striped bikini as she gleefully bounced down the ramp toward her friends. Tengo resumed his pre-conversation position.
“So, what can we even do about it?” Jordan asked, his focus still diverted.
“I guess nothing. Just wait.”
“Exactly.”
At that moment, a large metallic silver colored aircraft shook the sky above them. The gusting wind sent Tengo’s loose-fitting beach shirt and shorts flapping.
Jordan looked up laughing. “The plane with a dick hangin’ off it.”
“It’s a KC-135.”
“Oh really? Never knew. What’s the massive schlong hanging off the back do?”
“Pumps gas to other planes mid-flight.”
“Of course it pumps. That’s what these do.” Jordan cupped himself.
Tengo let out a half laugh. Jordan stood, then patted him hard on the shoulder.
“Dude, relax. School’s out, sun's hot, and the girls are showin’ skin. D’you see Cyan? She got that YouTube yoga bod. I'd hit. Wouldn't you?"
"Not my thing. I thought she was into Ethan?”
“Yeah maybe. They broke up right?”
A shrill scream pierced the air, followed by a splash. Tengo and Jordan looked down at the water. On a large floating platform loaded with too many bodies, they saw Ethan toss a giggling Cyan into the bay. A second later she surfaced spitting water out of her mouth while scrambling back on the bobbing solid. “Ethan, you're such a dick!” She didn’t sound upset.
“That doesn’t look like fun at all,” a heavy voice said.
“Oh, hey Lily,” Jordan greeted.
“You guys aren’t swimming?”
Jordan stretched his arms above his head causing loose flesh to wave. “I was just about to go down and cool off. Aren’t you hot in all that?” he asked. He gestured at Lily’s full body black attire—shirt and wide legged jeans. A sun visor swooped over her eyes like a portable awning.
“You know I’m Asian, I hate the sun and it hates me.”
The boys snickered.
“Well, you do you. Don’t get heat stroke.” Jordan made a parting sign then carefully stepped back down in the direction of the water to join the others.
Tengo…
As he carefully stepped across the rocks that ripped holes in his feet, Lily’s eyes ogled his retreating form. She smiled small. “Now that is a nice ass, right?” She said, nudging Tengo with her elbow. “Enjoy the good stuff while you can. You never know when reality’s just gonna flip on you, y’know?”
Tengo…
Tengo nodded, but it was absent. Somebody was calling his name. It was clearer this time, more insistent.
He tapped his foot frantically, body bleeding nervousness.
Tengo...
At first, it wasn’t a voice—it was a shift in the sound of the waves, a rhythm that mimicked his name. The water lapped against the rocks: “Ten...go... Ten...go...” He rubbed his temples. No good. The pattern only grew stronger, louder, bolder.
“You say something?” he asked. He turned to Lily.
She frowned. “In my head, maybe. What’s goin’ on with you, man?”
The edges of the marina frayed shredding like an overwashed shirt. Colors warped—blues saturated too bright, whites blended hard green forming gradient shades. Boats froze mid-motion, trapped in an Antarctic sheet, carrying a biting frost rolling through the hot air.
This just couldn’t be. Tengo shuddered, sweating. Hands ice cube stiff, slicked, though the air baked his skin. Tongue tempered into a lump of silver, too heavy for his mouth, pulse radically slow in the shining sun. A strange buzzing filled his ears, a noise too low to be heard, too loud to ignore. Tinnitus? No, too young for that, I hope.
But this already happened, Tengo thought. We were here... last week.
“Didn’t Jordan wear red trunks last time? This time they’re yellow and black.” Tengo muttered to himself. He rubbed his temples again, forcing himself to remember... but the memory slid, slippery and uncertain, like trying to grab water. Was it last week or today? Both? Neither?
The marina shimmered before his eyes, a mess of an artist’s palette. “Weren’t we just here last week?” He asked uncertainly.
Lily viewed him with concern. “Yeah, of course. We come here all the time. You okay?”
Tengo didn’t respond. He got up, then faced the parking lot. The voice was coming from that direction.
Tengo... Tengo...
Lily watched him step away. Her expression positioned in puzzlement.
“Heat stroke leads to delirium. He should have covered up more.”
He didn’t hear her.
His legs moved before he made a decision, leading him toward the parking lot like a stringed puppet. The sounds of the marina—laughter, music, the slap of waves—faded. Lily’s voice called after him: “Hey, you okay?” No response.
As he walked away, Tengo didn’t notice the small details twisting behind him—how the boats in the marina began to drift backward, waves rolled in reverse, or how Jordan’s laugh echoed once... then again, slightly off-key, as if delayed by a second voice mimicking his own.
All he heard was the voice. It had him now.
Chapter 33
Tengo followed the voice to the side of Highway 58. There, on one of the island’s primary roads, cars were constant. They sprinted, roaring engines rumbling over the hard surface as he approached the drop of the sidewalk.
He paused only when his toes hovered over the edge and the wind’s wakes from endless charging vehicles of all sizes tousled his hair and clothes.
Tengo…
Without warning an image assaulted him. It was a boy with orange spiky hair, a waistcloth of leaves and a mouth curved into a smile. Arms raised, it drifted toward him until they were face to face. Suddenly, the eyes narrowed, smile bent unamused.
A kijimuna?
Tengo!
The air around him shimmered, cracked, and reshuffled. Displaced. We’ve been here before.
He was back on the wide steps bordering the marina – the party was in full swing behind and below, just like before. Jordan was there watching a KC-135 blast overhead. Except this time, he moved at doubled speed. Jordan pointed to the sky and slowed to normal speed. “The plane with a dick hangin' off it.” “It’s a KC-135.” Reality ripped reverse. “531-CK a s’tI.” He heard himself speak, but the lips were out of sync as though dried scaly finger clamped them and manipulated his voice. It wasn’t him Tengo’s guts clenched He feared he would vomit confusion Jordan fast forwarded again pulledup shorts went downflopped intothewater Lily arrived Tengo didn’t wanttolook she eyed himwithconcern “Youokayman?” she said “…never knowwhenreality’sjustgonnaflipon youuuuu…” everything slowed then pushed toadashingwhir supercharged time a Subaru racingfastandfrantic Stop. A wave of disorientation washed over Tengo He clenched his eyes shut clapped his hands over his ears We were here... last week For the firsttime he feared for his sanity Then a tap on his shoulder, his eyes flew open.
"Tengo?"
Standing before him was a young boy in a loincloth, his hair a vivid red. Tengo was back on the border of the sidewalk and street. Traffic honking and zipping. Dizzy, he tripped into traffic. A Silver Nissan Cube swerved. The boy lunged forward, yanked him out of the path just in time. He was safe, but his knees were scraped. Two red gashes oozed blood.
On hands and knees, Tengo released the contents of his stomach. A watery green mess with chunks of undigested mash slid on the pavement. That acidic taste of hot bodily fluid smelled like a chemical zone, but he couldn’t cordon it off. No one stopped and helped. Through watery eyes, Tengo looked up at the boy standing there, unsure if he was a savior or reaper.
“You… can’t be real,” Tengo gasped. “You can’t be real.” He let his head hang limp for a second, then pushed himself away from the throwup to get on his feet. His legs were like two Hi-Chews left in a tight pocket for too long, gooey and unstable.
The boy huffed, then crossed his arms. “Why not? I just saved you, didn’t I? I got you to come over here, didn’t I?”
Tengo held his head, panicked mania tightened his voice. “I got up this morning, had breakfast, brushed my teeth, talked online, got a text, went to Family Mart...” He recounted his day to ground himself in reality.
“Are you really this dull?” The spirit asked, rolling his eyes. “This is gonna be tougher than I thought.”
“...put on my shorts and shirt, got on my bike, rode over... no, no mistakes. I did everything right.”
The sprite whipped out of sight then cracked over to Tengo’s shoulder. There was no weight to him. “Of course you did. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“But I'm talking to a kijimuna!”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds like such a terrible thing.”
Tengo swallowed hard. “Maybe I did get hit by that Cube. Am I… dead?”
The spirit floated around and placed his ear to Tengo’s chest. “Nope, you're alive. Because someone's beating the drum inside you very fast.” He smiled mischievously.
Tengo brushed him away and he warped off, only to appear in front of him again. He was careful not to step in the street. “Why are you here? Why me?”
“Whoa, whoa, let's start over. I'm アヌ, and you are...?” he asked expectantly.
“...Tengo.”
“Very good! I knew you could do it!”
“What are you doing here?”
The sprite floated to the ground before Tengo. He got on his knees, smacked the tiny hands together in supplication then raised them. Tengo observed the peculiar ritual with a mix of confusion and curiosity.
“I sincerely apologize for looping you like that.”
“Looping?”
“Yes, yes, we shouldn’t do that to humans. It’s bad. But it was the only way to get your attention.”
Tengo brought his hand to his chin. “So that’s why...” Everything he experienced in the last hour suddenly clicked. Although still afflicted with motion sickness of the worst kind, he blocked it out to concentrate on this opportunity to question this strange creature.
Tengo scanned his surroundings. As far as he could tell, no one seemed to notice him here. Odd. Could they see the spirit? How had the driver of the Cube known to avoid him? Where was he really? All the uncertainty would have to wait. He got the impression some type of window had opened, but it was closing rapidly.
Somewhere in the distance, the light dimmed for a heartbeat—a terrible serpentine shadow slinked where none belonged.
He considered the boy’s pleading stance. “Why did you call me?”
“Because I need help! Why else?” He dropped his hands and levitated to eye-level. “I've got to find ジィー二!”
“ジィーニ? Who or what is that?”
“The key to me getting back home! It’s the name of my staff. You know about the gates, right?”
“Of course. Everybody does.”
“I know how to close them.”
Tengo stepped forward. “You do? How?”
アヌ beckoned him closer, then whispered into his ear. “I can’t tell you.” He floated a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes closed, head at a stubborn angle, wearing a childish smirk.
Tengo faced him with a sharp turn. “Why not!?”
“Because you have to do something for me first.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“I need my staff. I need ジィーニ back or I'm worthless.”
Tengo blinked. “Where is it?”
アヌ pointed across the busy highway. “It’s over there.”
Tengo’s stomach dropped. The traffic seemed bigger and faster now. Flat faced freight trucks, scooters, and excessively large conveyances driven mostly by Americans, with their white “Y” plates, zoomed past at breakneck speeds only stopping for a minute or two to allow cars from the Marina to join what he understood to be the widest and deadliest stretch of road on the island.
“You want me to… cross the highway from here?” Tengo’s voice cracked.
“Yes, but there's a catch. You have to do it with your eyes closed.”
Tengo stared at the kijimuna in disbelief. “Are you insane? I’ll get killed!”
“Not if you trust me,” アヌ said. “I’ll protect you. But if you open your eyes, you fail. And you only have three chances before my power runs out. Without my staff, I’m so weak.”
Tengo’s gaze darted between the sprite and the speeding traffic, as erratic as a broken compass.
“A-and if I don’t do it. What happens?”
アヌ sighed impatience, “Then you don’t close the gates. And there’s no protecting you or your friends from what comes out next.”
Time weighed Tengo down. Every second was a stitch in his cut knees, but the wounds didn't close.
“More of us are coming out, RIGHT NOW, Tengo. Not all are as nice or good-looking as me. Time is not your friend, my friend. But I am. Don’t you want to solve the mystery of the gates? It’s gotta be just eating you up inside. Am I right?”
Tengo asked with a small voice, “What happens if we don’t close the gates?”
“If we can’t close them... if you can’t close them, excuse me, well, I hope you like sharing this world with non-humans. Leave the door open too long, flies get in. Then they’re a real pain to get rid of. That’s what’s at stake here, a house full of flies buzzing and spitting in your food. Doesn't sound too great to me, but it's not my house. Think hard, but not too long Tengo. どうするか?”
Back and forth. Kijimuna, cars. The gates – this was the most promising lead he’d encountered about them. An invasion of “flies”? That sounded horrible. Was the spirit telling the truth? Could he really prevent that?
Tengo looked at the relentless race beside him, still doubtful. He thought of his weapon, that magical nunchaku brimming with power. His power. As far as he knew, the others weren’t coming, only he could do this. Pricked by the slightest stab of determination he said, “Alright. I’ll try.”
“Good choice! Now, close your eyes and just listen to my voice.”
Tengo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The light was green, signaling it was safe to walk. The first step into the street was like jumping into a pool at the beginning of the season – all balled adrenaline and blind faith. Shock locked his muscles mid-step, nerves screamed in retreat, wind swooped by lifting the smell of gasoline up to his nose, sun burned hotter on that extended leg, kneecaps throbbed from his cuts. But there was a release - adlibbed liberation - at the action. All he had was a thin cloak of bravery and アヌ’s voice to protect him.
“Keep going, Tengo. You’re doing great.”
Engines roared like caged beasts beside him. Trucks bigger than houses hissed and screeched, their tires screaming against asphalt. If he fell—or hesitated—the highway would swallow him whole.
The vibrations under his feet changed. The light must have turned red because the ground trembled with the rush of speeding cars. Panic surged through him. Almost involuntarily, his eyes shot open. Tengo stumbled back to the edge of road just as a yellow-plated Jimny flew by blasting its horn.
“Okay, you failed,” アヌ said, in a matter-of-fact manner. “You have two more chances. My power is weakening. Calm your drum, Tengo. Focus on my voice.”
“My drum…” Tengo’s heart beat an insane rhythm. He concentrated on taking in a large amount of air. Soon the beat slowed enough for him to shut his eyes then step into the street again.
“That’s it. One step at a time,” アヌ encouraged. “Keep going.”
The heat from the cars crawled along Tengo’s skin, but this time it was worse—a searing touch, like bonfire embers sticking to him. He clenched his fists tighter, hoping it would pass, but the heat reached into his lungs. Then came the van’s screeching tires and the crash—a bone-rattling thud that cracked the air. He opened his eyes in panic. Somehow, he was back where he started, breathing heavily.
“You failed again,” アヌ said, his tone more urgent. “One last chance. You can do this! Calm your drum, focus on my voice, and trust. me.”
Tengo squeezed his eyes shut and stepped into the street for the third and final try. The burning asphalt made his legs glossy with sweat, wind snapped at his clothes with every passing car. Somewhere behind him, a horn screamed—a long, jagged note that scraped at his nerves. He flinched but kept moving.
“One step at a time,” アヌ whispered, his voice threaded with a strange calm.
Tengo clenched his fists, feeling the quiver of tires rushing past just inches away. The smell of exhaust clogged the air, clinging to his lungs. His knees throbbed with each step, but he dared not stop.
The wind changed direction—a subtle warning, a breath too close. Something enormous brushed past him, the air rippled with its force. Tengo swallowed the scream building in his throat. One more step. Just one more—
The ground dipped beneath him, and he stumbled forward. Toes caught the edge of the curb. He opened his eyes.
He made it.
“You did it! Open your eyes.”
Tengo opened his eyes to see the spirit floating before him, grinning broadly. He was across, unscathed. Relief flooded through him, and he bent over hands on knees. His entire body was shaking.
“That was... crazy,” Tengo panted.
“You did well, Tengo. Now, follow me.”
The staff hovered in front of the Kadena fence line emitting sparks of light from a leaf green aura surrounding it. アヌ retrieved it. The beautifully carved piece of wood with a rough-cut green-red gem, Ryukyu glass style, was affixed to the tip. Tengo had never scene anything more beautiful.
“Thank you,” アヌ said, bowing deeply. “With this, I can help close the gates.”
Tengo nodded, still trying to process everything that had happened. “So, what now?”
“Now, we prepare for what's to come,” アヌ replied, his tone serious. “Since you were such a pal, I’ll dissolve the time loop.”
アヌ waved the staff three times. The strange distortions in the air settled. The atmosphere warmed then returned to that familiar scorching wet June temperature. An F-35 shot overheard from the flightline, sound was back, traffic on 58 resumed a stuttering fast flow. The time loop dissolved. For the first time in the last hour, the world moved forward.
He turned to see Miss Marlowe and his friends standing on the opposite side of the highway. Lily, Jordan, Ethan, Cyan, and his cousin Rika—they were all there wearing relieved and awed expressions on their faces.
Tengo smiled and waved across the road. Relief washed over him like the first breath after a long dive. His friends waved back—at first. But something shifted in their faces. Solace slipped into confusion, confusion curdled into alarm.
The sun dimmed—just a flicker. A reptile shadow crawled over Tengo’s shoes with crocodile stealth, slow and deliberate, like cold ink blotting out a paper map. The air thickened, and every sound fell away until only the beat of his pulse remained, a quiet drum in the void.
Behind him, a menacing presence loomed, its space-black profile cast a dark pall over the ground.
Miss Marlowe’s voice pierced the silence like a knife.
“RUN!”
Chapter 34
“Tengo, run!” I screamed. The other students’ faces stretched in horror.
Tengo spun around, his face draining of color as he locked eyes with the demon. For a second, he braced himself and faced it down. A stream of blue-violet light extended from his hands. His demon sealing weapon – nunchaku – appeared. They were two sticks of coated wood attached with a sturdy chain. Tengo raised the shaking weapon to his foe, with the meanest face he could muster behind his glasses. Then his grip slacked on the nunchaku, blinking fast, knees trembled: body betrayal in the face of fear realized.
The great beast’s expression did not change. Its dinosaur claw – mangled, sharp - split the air. Tengo yelped. He dropped back, nearly falling onto the busy highway. He pressed a palm to his shirt; the hand came back a gruesome red. The animal stomped forward, prepared to kill.
Chaos on the street: cars honked, swerved, collided end to end, drivers gawked at the unbelievable spectacle. Phones were up and out.
Rika grabbed my arm. “Zena, It’s a Garappa... I hoped I'd never see one outside a story.”
“What does it want?”
“The young. It always goes for the young.”
Her words made my calves clench.
Tengo fled north. We chased him parallel on the opposite side of the highway. Holding his wound, he ran up the sidewalk. Other pedestrians, oblivious to the chase, quickly cleared the way. The monster swung its arm with a deep swoosh. A small spinning tar-colored portal revolved into existence in the cement. The target was Tengo, but it missed. A hapless Wagon-R driver sat in shock as her back tire tilted toward an unknown end. She abandoned it quickly. But the blackened circle in the asphalt remained. A hint of burned ozone hit me in the nose. This was a dangerous ability.
My legs burned from sprinting. A blast of 紫色, kama in hand, I was ready for a fight. There was no further plan if Tengo or the Garappa quit running.
Tengo stepped onto the highway. Southbound traffic formed an improvised parking lot as astonished drivers fled to safety. He weaved between the halted vehicles. Smart move.
But the Garappa pursued striding swift, the movements jerked every few seconds as if it was an old DVD, veined with scratches, skipping – unwatchable. It lunged at Tengo, claws outstretched, but he ducked in time. The demon’s talons raked a car, and an ear-piercing screech ripped the air.
Traffic collapsed with crunching sounds. Crashes everywhere. Drivers stared slackjawed. Tengo yelled for help, but no one dared exit their cars. The Garappa shoved vehicles aside, the earth quaked with every step.
Across from the red and white Kentucky Fried Chicken, a winded Rika produced an unusual weapon—a bo staff, as long as she was tall, lengthened from lavender hued light out of her hands. Bejeweled crystals studding the 超 long weapon dazzled キラキラ under the sun. She raised it to a striking angle.
「召喚、やぎ!」
A second later, a water buffalo appeared, bellowing belligerence uncharacteristic, and with enormous horns sturdy. The black-outlined spirit manifested in mid-day.
I looked on, stunned, as the animal familiar vaulted Rika to half a power pole’s height. In mid-air Rika slashed, raining crystals down on the underworld lizard. Diamond sharp shards showered sheets. Steam hissed from its back. It howled mad, but didn’t stop pursuing Tengo.
Rika landed half-gracefully. “If it gets his mabui, he’s 終わり” she said over the blaring car horns.
“What’s that mean?”
“No one comes back.”
A surge of terror squeezed my heart near to burst.
Tengo continued to evade the Garappa’s grasp, but his pace slowed. Sweat wet hair, breathing ragged gasps, he couldn’t run much further. The demon sensed his fatigue. Its attacks grew more ferocious.
Outside of a local restaurant “What’s the Story?”, we caught up.
As we approached, the Garappa turned its attention to us, then back to Tengo. Its eyes narrowed, and a low growl rumbled in its throat. It raised a clawed hand, and the air shimmered before it. A dark, swirling portal materialized on the sidewalk, pulsing with malevolent energy.
“Watch out!” Rika cried, but it was too late.
The air shivered. A small portal opened a surprise sink hole before Tengo’s foot. Thrown off balance, he tumbled into empty space. Dead drop. The sidewalk cracked with the sound of his skull meeting concrete – glasses shattered. In the beat of a fly’s wings, he wasn’t there. Silence occupied where he was – gone.
The Garappa vanished from sight shortly after. It shrank inward like an inverted mirage, slipping between the molecules of air until it was nothing more than a faint shimmer. A frigid draft floated in its wake.
“No!” I dashed across chaotic road to where he stood, just before the stairs of a walkway. I dropped to my knees scratching at the hot sidewalk, desperate to find any trace of him. But the area was undisturbed as if nothing happened.
The more I scraped, the more the truth began to sink its claws into me. He was beyond reach. This failure flared enraged helplessness as my fingers reddened and split.
He was there, then not—disappeared like breath on glass. Gone, and it didn’t make sense, it couldn’t make sense, because there had been no ripple, no warning, just the absence of everything that had been him.
ふん、ふん、ふん、a hummed elegy fragment stirred the soles.
Words drifted through me from somewhere close but unknown.
Chapter 35
「なぜ彼を連れ去ってしまったのか?」“Why did it take him? What does it want with him?” I asked.
I crossed my arms to conceal the shaking. Our pursuit of the demon ended hours ago, but my blood continued to run hot and fast. Even the deepest breaths wouldn’t slow it down.
I should have been there. I should have been faster… oh Tengo. I’m their teacher, I’m supposed to protect them. How could I let this happen?
Under the shade of the outdoor pavilion at Kadena Marina, the students' faces reflected frustrated grief. Vulnerable, scared, and sweaty – we were all there. Heads low, disturbed eyes - their expressions mirrored the guilt in my gut.
“I don't know,” Rika replied after a long silence. “The stories always talked about Garappa roaming deep in the northern forests of Yanbaru, but they were just that… stories.” My phone’s vibration almost made me jump. It was the sixth time it buzzed in the last hour, but again, I ignored it.
It’s probably James again. Or could it be Yumi? Or OSI still after me? So many wanted my attention now. It was the most popular I’d been since arriving on island.
In a flash of memory, Mom’s face appeared. Not now. Why now?
A face full of love falling apart in cracks as if she were an old sculpture, breaking under time’s burden.
Zena… did you pray?
Did I 祈る? What for? To stop you dyin’?
A chunk of Mama’s face fell to the floor of that old house, breaking into a pulverized powdery mess – dust too fine to gather. In the dim bulb light, Igrid looked on in scathing disappointment.
“You little shit, you didn’t act right, now look what ya done.”
“But sis, I didn’t mean to…”
Papa appeared. A hard glimpse while he clutched the book, his last look.
“Uh Miss Marlowe?” Ethan’s low voice brought me back. Silver clouds rolled in dropping drizzle. Near the water, some partygoers toughed it out. Others ducked for the closest cover or to their cars. Another summer day spoiled by the tears of Okinawa. Was I responsible for the weather goin’ bad?
Ethan asked, “It’s the gates, right? That’s why that lizard was chasin’ him?”
Rika nodded. “そう. I missed something before, after the attack, I realized what it was…”
My phone zapped against my thigh again. Irritated, I reached in to examine the screen.
James: Where are you? You okay?
“He said he thought you missed something,” Jordan said, “…Tengo did before he… y’know.”
「まじ?」 Rika’s lips quivered.
Jordan rested his arms on the concrete table. “Yeah. He thought it was weird nothin’ had happened for the last few weeks since they opened. I guess… he was right.”
“And now he's gone,” Cyan said. Her cheeks were flushed with heat. She hid her face, while Ethan rubbed her back.
Lily wore a perplexed look. “Fuck. I knew I shoulda followed him when he wandered off. I thought he went to get a drink, y’know? It's so damn hot out here.”
Another phone vibration.
James: Come home. Not safe out there.
Jordan stared daggers at Lily. “Why didn't you go after him?”
“Jordan, c'mon man!” Ethan said.
“Naw naw that's messed up. We’re supposed to be lookin’ out for each other. And she let my boy just go off and get demon-napped or worse.”
Lily stood stone-faced, arms rigid at her sides, “Oh you're ‘boyz’ now huh? And what the fuck were you doin’?? Oh yeah following little miss bouncy tits over there. I didn't see you stayin’ with him. You walked off to go party.”
“Hey guys, cool it!” I said. My thumbs tapped a reply to James as fast as possible.
Me: Can’t talk right now. I'm safe.
This isn’t going well.
In the time it took me to respond, a flame-faced Jordan squared up on Lily, while Ethan hooked a meaty arm around his chest in restraint.
“You, you’re such a… “
“Jordan! Knock it off bro!”
“Such a what? Say it! You big idiot!”
“Guys, c’mon don't fight!” Cyan moaned.
My phone shook continuously in my pocket as I stepped in between Lily and Jordan. I placed hands on both of their shoulders and shoved them away. This was a fight I couldn’t (wouldn’t) shy away from. “Cut it out you two!”
A loud slam jolted us to silence. The air around us condensed and cooled—something sharp but invisible passed through like the ripple of an underwater current. Our heads snapped toward the tree line.
Rika was on her knees in the grass, body tense. She pressed her long wooden staff down, pinning something wriggling against the earth.
A snake? No. I inched closer. At the sight, my heart found another reason to sprint.
It was a boy, red hair, loincloth of leaves around his hips.
He turned his head, slow and deliberate, and met my eyes. That’s when the sound came—low, humming, like the resonant twang of a tuning fork. The air waxed between us, distorting his face, stretching it like warped glass.
Sound swelled, deepening into something that pressed against my ribs and curled clammy fingers around my spine. My breath hitched; the world tilted, a sharp slant like the deck of a sinking ship. I tried to speak, to warn the others to stay back, but the words shriveled in my throat.
A bubble of pocket space between us expanded. A pulsing wave creased the world into geometric folds - 折り紙 imagined triangles, squares collapsed into an unrecognizable shape. Time thinned. Everything went tight, dark, and soundless.
Chapter 36
A floaty 感覚 sensation overcame me, like my organs were bobbing in a jar. Disoriented and groggy, I would have needed to puke but even my stomach had less weight – gravity worked different here. The tuning fork pinged again, a sign of alien surreality, of more weirdness to come.
We were under the pavilion, but the sky was off - skewed. There was a tilt to it by a slight degree aS iF sOmeOne sNapped a hasty crooKed picture. Among the sheared background the sun was there, but it was different. It cast a wavy technicolor glow on the horizon oversaturating fully all objects around. Light bled from every surface, hyper-bright and unholy. Colors ran like melted crayon wax but sharper—vibrance too much, much too vibrant. Staring at the horizon for too long made my eyes ache, like the beginning of a migraine that couldn’t be stopped. Adjustment to the brightness took a minute of squinting, even after, my head beat a heart synced pulse, shoving at its skull prison with rapid pressing. This must be what being in space is like: terrified freedom as the body drifts like a balloon on the breeze.
The others stood around, just as flummoxed as they patted themselves making sure matter followed the same rules in this realm.
“Whoa,” Lily said, “I feel so… full but… not. This is trippy.”
Jordan stood tall, extending himself for some reason. “No kiddin’. It’s like I want to throw up and swallow at the same time. It’s weird.”
Ethan chanced a step toward Cyan. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly, “It feels like I shouldn’t be, but it feels fun, too. Like I’m in the air but falling. They should add a room like this at Round 1. It would be a hit.” She laughed uncomfortably.
“I’d go there… as long as you were there,” Ethan murmured, though his grin was as thin as paper.
Cyan returned it, shaky but stubborn, like someone smiling through cracked glass. “I’d go. If we don’t fall off the edge of the planet first.”
Their eyes met for a second. Then Cyan forced herself to look at the ripped horizon. “It is beautiful. In its own way, though…” Her voice trailed off.
“Yeah, it is.”
I had been so distracted by the abnormal surroundings and the students, I’d almost forgotten about Rika and the boy.
“Where’s Rika?” I asked. My voice came out echoey, like I was standing in a large cave.
Soon, she and the kid faded into this semi-reality. All eyes fixed on them.
Just as she had been some space of seconds before, Rika pinned the young boy down with her thick bo staff. “Get off me!” He yelled, writhing under her grip.
“Not until you tell me where my cousin is,” Rika demanded.
The kid vanished from beneath her and reappeared floating in the air encircling us. I stared up at him in bewilderment. “What is this thing?”
Rika’s words were heavy. “A kijimuna. The one Tengo contacted before he disappeared.”
“Where the hell did it come from?” Lily asked, voice charged with impatience. “And how can we see it?”
Rika spoke through clenched teeth. “Now that you have some control over mabui, you can see the spirits of the Mother.”
“I don’t believe this,” Lily puffed.
Cyan’s eyes widened. “Is it… dangerous?”
“Depends,” Rika replied, her gaze never leaving the creature.
The kijimuna darted away, but an invisible barrier stopped him with a reverberating thud. “You won’t get out of this field,” Rika said, cold and resolute.
I turned to her in astonishment. “Did you do this?”
She nodded. “A magical barrier, Yumi 先生 showed me how. It’s for untrustworthy spirits like him.”
The kijimuna held up his hands. “Okay, you got me.”
“Who are you and what happened to Tengo?” Rika advanced on him, staff pointed at thrusting angle.
“Okay okay, sheesh you humans are violent. I’m アヌ.”
“He has a name,” Ethan said mystified.
“Of course I do.” アヌ grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “It’s just a little fun, right? A little play with souls at eternity’s end.” His voice carried the sing-song tone of a child with a magnifying glass over an ant hill.
I found my voice again. “At eternity’s end? What do you mean?”
アヌ covered his mouth in a feign of shock. “Ah, I’ve said too much! Gotta go!”
He blinked out of existence again, testing the barrier’s strength.
Crystal shards materialized from Rika’s slashing staff. They struck deep in アヌ’s bare back. His scream was thin, almost childlike. A chill washed over me, and my breath caught in the back of my throat. This Rika was not the same studious disciple from before—this one was sharp, certain, dangerous.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked, unnerved.
“I’ll do worse if he doesn't talk. Where's Tengo?”
アヌ cowered, hands raised in surrender, breath ragged. “Alright alright! I’ll tell you, just no more of that!”
Jordan crossed his arms. “Better answer her questions then, or you’ll be saltier than a bowl of miso soup.”
Lily eyed Jordan with a chiding scowl.
“They took him,” アヌ whispered, a smile formed at the edges of his mouth. He let the silence hang, as if feeding on our discomfort. “His mabui... it’s already being prepared.”
“For what?” I asked, my mouth dry.
The kijimuna’s grin deepened. “Consumption, of course.”
Dread knotted in my stomach. “His soul? Why?”
“Human souls make them stronger. They've been harvesting power since the gates opened. Looks like your cousin is next on the menu.”
Rika swung her staff with prodigious precision. She halted it an inch from アヌ’s face. Sweat beaded his brow.
“What are those crystals?” Cyan asked.
“Salt. Repels demons.” There was no arguing Rika’s tone.
“H-hey no need for that. I-I know where the gate is! I'll show you,” アヌ offered.
Rika scoffed, “How can we trust you after what you did?”
“It’s your only shot at saving him.”
I eyed the child sprite warily.
“Rika, can you make him cooperate?” Ethan asked.
She circled her staff. A thread of violet light unraveled from the tip, slithering around アヌ’s throat. The light pulsed in time with his panicked breaths, growing tighter with every exhale.
He fought at the leash but appeared to grow weaker with every failed attempt at freedom. Like that, he was no more threatening than a muzzled junkyard dog.
“So, where’s this gate?” I pressed. Suddenly the sprite looked forlorn and desperate.
“I-It’s at Marek Park shrine. On base. Right by the main road on the hill. Most of you American humans drive past it every day without a second thought. Th-That’s where they'll perform the ritual. Now can you get this thing off me?”
Lily frowned. “But that’s just an old grave. I’ve been by it tons of times. There’s nothing there.”
“Ha, not anymore. The gates don’t just change things,” アヌ whispered, his voice suddenly small. “They bend the world until nothing fits right anymore. Not time. Not souls. Nothing.”
His words stunned us. Nobody knew what to say. Ominous thoughts caused my floating guts to clench.
“They change things. That’s what they do,” アヌ said, “And if you want to change things for poor little Tengo, we need to hurry before sunset. Or he won’t stand a chance.”
“We?” I asked testily.
Rika yanked アヌ to his feet. He let out a melodramatic groan as he tripped in the grass. “Lead the way then.”
The air became as water. Current reverberation swept a visible side arch at us. If it had been solid, the pavilion would have been cleaved in two. Our reality refolded back into view; construction paper dreamscape sealed itself in an envelope of offspace then blew seaward. Upon sinking, the psychedelic diorama was gone, as if it never existed at all. But the afterimage remained, the air still felt wrong, like it carried the weight of a place that didn’t belong. Even as the blessed island breeze stirred my hair, the sensation of drifting remained, just beneath the surface of my skin.
I shook off the willies to take in a welcome sight. A sunset (with a splendid display of bluish orange behind smoky steel-hued clouds) beamed before me.
My phone rumbled in my pocket, shattering the moment like a splinter beneath a nail. I checked it—five missed calls from James.
Reality’s persistence was cruel—always barging in at the worst time. I muted the phone. Explanations could wait. If what アヌ said was true, time was already slipping away.
Tengo’s soul was running out of seconds.
Chapter 37
かすむ影 Blurry shadows tangled across Tengo’s vision as he stirred. His mind groped through soupy fog, a wet ache throbbed behind his temples, and strange voices - whisper-thin but jagged at the edges - drifted toward him—like they’d been waiting for him to wake.
“He appears to be waking up,” a somehow pleasing raspy voice remarked.
“Not awake yet. No, no... still adrift between the crackss of dreams,” another countered.
“So fragile… after 裸になって undressing, shall we 彼をはいで strip the soul first or… savor the flesh?”
“Hmm. Methinkss, a child’s mabui would make a fine feasst tonight.”
“I can practically taste him on the tip of my tongue. Well now, will you do the honors?”
“With pleassure M’Lady.” Icy, rough fingers pried Tengo’s eyes open. An involuntary cry left his lips.
“Don’t bother, young one. Your mews fall on deaf earss. No one will come to your aid. You are beyond the realm of humans,” the creature said.
Tengo’s body trembled as he took in his surroundings. The setting sun’s dying rays clawed at the swaying séance trees, invisible palms guiding them. The small red torii gates of Marek Park appeared distorted in and out of shape; sheened smoke hovered around, as if the world breathed beneath their frames. The smell of decaying animal flesh jammed up his nose in violent fashion.
One of the demons, the one that chased him, was a reptile from childhood dinosaur books. He was a monster. Vicious sharp teeth glinted in its malformed mouth. Shifty amber-tinted eyes stared back. Hunched forward, its ten-foot frame draped in tattered rags fumed with the stench of rotten eggs. The invasive smell made him gag.
The other demon was a female with long black hair hanging like seaweed as if she’d slept in a swamp. She wore a baggy vest like a potato sac, concealing heavy precious things beneath. Her gruesome hands were frozen in unnatural shapes—one a fist, the other scissor-like blades. Why were they like that? Tengo tried to block the answer out of his mind.
“Bring him down,” she commanded. Her voice was a rose – a red running rasp.
Tengo’s bonds loosened, sending him crashing to the ground. His wrists throbbed, arms ached, and legs burned. The fleeting thought of escape vanished as the Garappa beckoned him forward with a curling claw. An invisible force lifted him to his feet - demon magic on display.
The female demon's smooth youthful face contrasted sharply with her homeless appearance. “Now we’ll play a little game,” she said. “じゃんけんゲーム—rock, paper, scissors. You know it?”
Tengo managed a loose nod as he adjusted his glasses.
“If you win, we might let you keep your soul. But if you lose… your sweet sweet mabui is mine. Do you understand, child?”
Tengo strained his legs to prevent them from visibly shaking. Slowly he nodded his head.
“What a ssporting lad he iss びば!” Garappa said. He applauded his stinking scaly claws.
Biba? So that’s her name. Tengo had never heard of such a demon before.
Biba extended a finger and caressed Tengo’s cheek. “Oooh yes, he is quite brave, and handsome too… ooh yes yes, I’m going to enjoy this.”
Tengo craned his neck away, but found her touch was surprisingly warm and soft like a hug from his cousin, Rika.
Rika. Was she here—somewhere, trapped, or worse? What about the others? If he could break free… but the demons were watching, always watching. Nunchaku—he could bring them out. But could he be fast enough? Would it matter? Would fighting mean death—something worse? He held on to belief in the heavenly weapon—the shape of hope. However, the thought churned, spiraling like murky dishwater down a drain. No answers. Nothing but his booming heart and the sight of those appendages - stripped trees following a typhoon - registered.
“Look closely, child.” The demoness extended delicate hands. “A closed fist. Shears. No matter what you choose... it cuts in the end.”
The game began without warning. “Rock, paper, scissors... boom!” In whip motion, her right hand shot out. He thought it was the fist. Tengo instinctively threw paper with a limp hand. At the last second, it morphed to a flat hand. Paper, paper—a draw.
“Th-that’s cheating!” Tengo seethed.
She snickered. “He speaks! Oh humans never cheat? We’ve played by your rules for eternity, now it’s time you played by ours.” Her tongue flicked over wet, swollen lips when she spoke.
Garappa laughed heartily. “Musst you torture the child like thiss? It can only end one way.”
“This is more invigorating,” she said over her shoulder, “Now get ready boy!”
They played once. Twice. Every round a draw, every hand a deadlock. Each moment stretched tighter around Tengo’s nerves until his hands shook uncontrollably, muscles cramping under the strain.
“Such luck...” the demoness cooed, her voice an oily lullaby. “Luck can’t last forever, boy.”
The Garappa chuckled, low and wet. “Sshall we raise the stakess? Perhaps a sip of ssoul for every tie?”
Tengo’s stomach turned. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He clenched his hands tighter to keep them as steady as possible. There was no way out. Just round after round, each draw a step closer to his sealed fate.
Suddenly, her hand shifted mid-air, transforming into scissors with a crack. Tengo’s paper was no match. She cackled triumphantly, "Your mabui is mine!"
Tears streamed down Tengo’s face as the Garappa pointed at him. He felt a familiar tug. The same force that pulled him into the forsaken game.
No more.
With a thrust of his hand the cool blue light burst from his palm, producing the ornate glowing nunchaku. As soon as he gripped them, he ceased his backslide.
Garappa and Biba viewed him with curiosity for a moment, then burst into laughter like warped bells.
“Oh my, Garappa, look at this! He aims to defend himself. My my his mabui is thicc and strong.”
Garappa regained his composure, “His twin stickss on a string appear threatening, but they are toys wielded by a boy.” He sighed and slanted into an attack posture; scythed claws winked keen in the dwindling dusk. “But if he fanciess a man’s match, who are we to deny him?”
“You doo speak the truth,” she said darkly, “I had hoped the game would be enough. But as usual, humans are only satisfied when blood of the other runs warm through the woods. Typical, but so be it.”
“Come, Tengo! Show me your ssoul!”
The nunchaku flared to life in a burst of icy blue light, humming with potential. For the first time in weeks, the crushing weight on Tengo’s spirit lifted—just slightly. He swung with everything left inside him, a desperate arc of light. Garappa caught the strike, its palm releasing a plume of searing steam around. There was no hint of pain or mercy in the beast. The demon twisted the weapon with lazy precision then spun while the boy’s grip faltered, slipping along the polished wood. A giant swing sent the youth flying, his thin frame carving a long depression in the dirt. The bones of his shoulder separated with a pop on impact. He cried out in agony at hope’s demise.
“Hah! Surely, thiss isn’t the best you can do?” Garappa said.
“Oh give him another chance, will you? Rage makes the spirit grow ripe, delicious.” She licked saliva from her lips with a circling tongue.
“Ass you command,” he tossed Tengo’s nunchaku in the dirt in front of him, “Arisse Tengo!”
Tengo’s breath came out in heaves, as he used his good arm to scramble to his feet. The other flamed with injury, causing him to stand with a lean. The demons viewed him like he might look at stray cat – with curious disdain. They saw no threat in him. But he had to try. Even if it meant death.
With a single arm he went for the weapon. Within a hair of it, a binding force cinched around his waist and lassoed him back. He yelled as the last of his nerve fried like a frayed wire.
That same unearthly force lashed him back to his starting post. Wrists raw. Shoulders racked. Ankles rashed red. Urine soaked his shorts as the Garappa stomped toward him. It raised Tengo’s chin using a single claw with feather force. A trickle of blood ran over his crazy neck pulse.
“Methinkss your effortss in vain young man. Valiant, they may have been. But there is no honor in thiss contest for me.”
With every breath, panic closed a crushing hold on Tengo’s entrails. Everything constricted, thinned near to rupture. He began to pray for an end to the nightmare – divine end darkening.
Biba approached then knelt, her black hair trailing like weeds dragged from a stagnant pond. She raised her head and for the first time, Tengo made the mistake of meeting her eyes. The moonlight mirrored in those glittering pools of liquid night. The lashes swooped long – skyward – like the limbs of a drowning insect; wetness warranted a sensitive gaze, softening any hardened emotion. He couldn’t look away. But from the glimpse of universe calling, a blinding contrast blended in bottomless space; horrible hunger disturbed the pupils, tightened surrounding skin – flawless – flared with primal unrest, viewing the depths of her desire, Tengo saw himself, a forlorn fading star prepared for inevitable swallowing collapse by a larger body. With a melodious murmur she said, “I see it now. He does, too. He’s perfect for plucking.”
“Yess. Indeed he is.”
“The juiciest bite is when the mabui burns bright. It’s now.”
“Let uss commence.”
Garappa joined her kneeling. Then together, they chanted in an unknown language. The forest bristled, blackness buried the last sun as Tengo felt himself slipping away. The world began to slow. All fear, pain, worries – began to dissolve into, first, a septic mess, then, a clear flow. Thoughts of the others: Rika, Miss Marlowe, and his new friends, who he’d hardly gotten to know, flushed out of him – every wound mended, every sin forgiven. It was unfair, unjust, unexplainable - the thoughts trailed like the wake of a boat, white bubbling froth into sheet still ocean on a starless eternal night. His head lolled as a sad smile curled on his face.
A thunderous crack split the air, and the world trembled as the darkness rippled. For the young man, everything returned at once. The realization of the bleak circumstances made him suffer greater fear than before. His voice cracked from too many screams; his face stung from excess tears. Attached to the pole, his neck hung limp. Resignation at whatever terror came next was all he could express.
Then through tear-blurred eyes, Tengo saw him.
From the void stepped a figure—fiery-haired, black-faced, fanged. Smoke curled from its skin as if it had been forged in hellfire. Two cloaked - normal human-sized - figures followed. Their faces lost beneath cavernous hoods, their steps impossibly quiet on the grass.
“Enough,” the fiery demon said, voice booming like a bell struck underwater. “This... is not the way.”
Tengo blinked, his breath catching painfully in his chest. He couldn’t tell if this was salvation—or something much, much worse.
Chapter 38
前 Before, there had been only terror. But now—standing at death’s abyss—Tengo saw it: the glass sphere balanced atop the torii gate, cradled by the snare of an old fisherman’s net frozen with saltwater. It glowed with a pulse, faint and deliberate, as if it was alive and waiting for something. In the new night, Tengo sensed it - power leaked from the thing, radiating outward until it bled into the edge of the park where Douglas Boulevard should have been—if that part of reality still existed.
Then an abrupt memory of something Yumi 先生 said about the gates made him gasp.
“The only way is to enter each gate and break its crest. But it won’t be easy.”
Was that the gate crest? How could he destroy it from here?
Breath shuddering, head drooping, he knew he couldn’t save himself or break the crest. If only he could close his eyes and shut it all out—turn the nightmare off. But the arrival of the charcoal-faced demon demanded everyone’s attention, including his.
Everything stopped the moment he arrived. Even the breeze seemed to falter. The demon’s skin was a blackened ruin, cracked as if scorched by a sun no one had ever seen.
Garappa and Biba shrank back at his presence – heads ducking, limbs loosening.
The lizard spoke first, his voice lower, clearer, “Masster, I did not expect your arrival so ssoon."
The demoness’s face glowed in the sparse light from the ebbing crest. “Ah Lord うふざとう I trust you are well? We have prepared the boy’s flesh. His spirit is perfect—”
“I can see that,” うふざとう said. He took large steps over to Tengo. Dead fish scattered over a beach under a sun that was sizzling even in the shade – that was the smell that emanated from the burnt skin. Tengo vomited. Watery slop ran down his shirt dampening the dirt around his feet.
The Demon Lord wasn’t repulsed by the display. He reached out a craggy hand and pinched Tengo’s chin between a meaty thumb and index finger. The contact caused the young man to shake as if he were shivering naked in a Sapporo winter. With a twitch, the one they’d referred to as “Master”, “Lord”, (what did they call him?) うふざとう, could snap his neck like a rain ruined matchstick that refused to light. All he could do was plead with his eyes for that not to happen as the source of his woe gingerly swiveled his neck back and forth, examining, contemplating with a thoughtful expression. The two human-sized specters in dark cloaks lurked behind. Were they monsters too?
うふざとう dropped his chin, turned to his subordinates and said, “Do you understand how to harvest human souls now?”
“The way we always have,” Biba said cautiously.
“No. Times have changed.” He produced a sleek smartphone from his old robes. “This is the key to their souls now.”
A terrible trembling overcame Tengo’s eyes at the sight of the device.
“Thiss? But it has no life Sir,” Garappa responded, his neck lengthening to get a better look.
うふざとう’s lips curled into a knowing smile, the flaming hair brightened as if fueled by dried reeds. “You do not understand. They gaze endlessly at this portal,” he pointed a gnarled nail at the screen. “It is their 神社 a revered thing of worship. They carry it always, bow to it upon waking, cradle it in sleep. It whispers to them while they work, they whisper back like lovers. While they mate, while they dream of rest—they commune and obey its power. They are slaves to the light, drawn as newborn sea turtles are to the rushing tides of the Pacific, perilous as they are.” He held the phone aloft like a holy relic. “This is how we draw out their mabui.”
The cloaked human-sized followers nodded, one trembling slightly beneath the folds of fabric. Tengo squinted but couldn't make out their faces in the twilight.
うふざとう faced the two cloaked figures behind him, but spoke to the lower demons. “You have your little spies to thank for accelerating our program at the school. The boy’s ability to see the kijimuna was facilitated by these two. And now he will be devoured by this human device.”
The Demon Lord held a palm over the phone. Cold blue fire came out, then wrapped around it. Tengo heard a several pops, then came the crackling, but it was louder, more spacious than any fire he’d seen, as if someone had set up surround sound speakers around the park, then searched for “fireplace sounds, Christmas morning” on YouTube. His horrified eyes reflected the blaze’s brilliance as it enveloped the smartphone. But it didn’t melt. When the fire burned out, it was still solid, but lit up like a new glowstick. Tengo’s heart hammered hard at the sight.
うふざとう’s large finger made clumsy taps and swipes on the phone. “What do you fancy on this video “app”, Tengo? There are so many to choose from…”
Tengo began to scream for help. The broken shrieking was sucked away by the gate crest, that’s how it seemed. Garappa and Biba cut up with laughter. うふざとう eyed him with pity.
Tengo squeezed his eyes closed, only to feel the rough reptile fingers – scaly and damp – force them open again seconds later.
“Ah this one will be perfect…”
Lord rotated the screen toward him. Tengo’s eyes bounced as the latest HikakinTV video entered his light cones. He told himself to think about something, anything, else - Rika, Grandfather, the others. But when the overwhelming images hit his retinas – he felt it. It was a strike to the chest—his body jerked in resistance, pushing against the pain. Vision twisted, doubled, then darkened. His arms dangled at his side, the bones became like a marionette – skeleton in a bag of skin. Then a friendly soothing feeling followed. Rika iced and wrapped the injuries, took custody of the bag to steal it away safe, told him everything was going to be okay, it would be okay, just hold on a little longer, a little more, more – you’ll be home safe soon, she told him. Tengo stopped fighting.
A sudden crack split the air. Miss Marlowe emerged from the rift with Rika at her side.
The devil troupe turned to face the bottom of the hill.
“Let my cousin go!” Rika yelled. Behind them stood Tengo’s friends, weapons shining in the dark. Jordan gripped a tinbe-rochin. Both hands were armed, a short spear in one, a metallic shield like a giant turtle shell in the other. Lily held a glittering hanbo staff inlaid with opalescent stones, an ancient Ryukyan weapon. Cyan brandished twin tonfa fitted to her smaller stature, while Ethan hefted an a mighty eku, a long oar studded with razor-sharp crystals on the flat end.
The pack of demons tensed, realizing the intruders had breached the gate.
Garappa and Biba looked toward their leader.
“Orderss my Lord.”
“ああ such brimming energy from them all, quite… stimulating,” Biba said.
うふざとう thrust out an arm, blocking their advance. Then unexpectedly he shoved the two cloaked figures forward. “Prove yourselves.”
“Rika! Go for the crest!” Zena said. Both women dashed toward their targets.
In a flash, the hooded pair drew obsidian weapons - a razor-edged shuriken sparking with visible electric currents and a wicked iron crossbow. They launched themselves at the group with blinding speed.
The crossbow bolt shot like a bullet through the air, trailing fire toward Cyan. She dove to the side, the heat singeing her hair as she hit the ground. Ethan’s eku swung in a wide arc—wood and crystal smashing into the bolt mid-flight. Flames exploded outward, but a mist of salt followed, hissing as it seared the crossbow demon’s exposed skin.
Jordan and Lily tag-teamed the shuriken wielder; Jordan thrusting and blocking, while Lily rained blows with her staff. But the figure was lightning-quick and slashed back. The blade carved through Jordan’s arm. He cried out in pain and fell back. “Jordan!” Lily screamed. She dropped her weapon, picked up his shield, and defended his prone form against a follow-up blow.
“Fuck! Uh, little help!” Lily yelled.
Zena vaulted in with her kama spinning a blur, then dive-slashed at the one with the sharp star. It was a hit. The blade ripped a gash in the cloaked arm, and a crimson stain fanned out from the site. Howling, he fell back as his companion provided cover.
As they retreated, their hoods slipped free, revealing the shocked sweaty faces of Principal Kane and Dr. Débora Araújo.
Zena froze, her threshing weapon lowering a fraction. “No… it can’t be,” she whispered.
These two? The ones who were supposed to be helping students, siding with the demons? The teacher in her wanted to berate them; the one with the weapon wanted to remove them from the human world they’d so easily rejected. She stood unsure of what her next move should be.
On the other side of the park, Rika sprinted toward the torii gate with the crest on top. To her surprise, neither Garappa nor Biba put up any resistance. More unsettling was how うふざとう reacted to her obvious intent to destroy the crest. He smirked, then flicked his hand. Suddenly, Tengo’s bonds fell away as the demons vanished in a swirl of shadow. Principal Kane and Dr. Débora blinked away with them.
Though she wasn’t sure why they hadn’t tried to stop her, Rika didn’t waste a second. She leapt high, bo staff glazing the night. With a hard swipe at the pulsing crest, shattering glass rained down. Light exploded from the point of contact, a gale-force wind whipped around her as the beaming source shrank to a pinprick and winked out. She noted an orb of blazing colored energy fly out and into her weapon. Somehow, her staff shone a little brighter than before, but she wasn’t sure why.
Rika landed to see the disturbed air sucked back into the void. Soon the starry sky and black ocean, lit by only a sliver of moonlight, returned as the gate’s energy pulled away like a blanket sliding off a bed.
When the wind died, she realized they’d closed the first gate. But something lingered—a whistle of uncertainty on the humid breeze. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d made things worse.
“オケー, Okay, okay, explain it to me one more time. You what?” James’s jaw twitched. His hands clenched at his sides as if fighting the urge to shake some sense back into me.
It was 0259. The chair felt too stiff, carpet too rough under my bare feet. I downed glass after glass of water, the tap running a river in the sink. If James hadn’t stopped me, I might’ve run five miles just to bleed off the jittering electricity under my skin. There’d be no sleeping tonight.
He came around the counter and wrapped me in a bear hug from behind, my legs almost kept moving as if powered by batteries. “Z, if you pace any harder you’re gonna burn a hole in the carpet. Let’s sit down and breathe, shall we?”
He led the way to the couch. Even seated, my foot tapped out a pattering rhythm, practically drilling into the floor.
“Alright, now, slowly, tell me again what happened.” He blinked those doe eyes in my direction.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. The events of the past 24 hours swirled in my mind like a tempest. I did my best to wrangle the storm.
“Okay, I was at Kadena Marina when a demon appeared. A kijimuna, like that little elf statue on 58.”
“The elf statue is actually a kijimuna? And it’s a spirit?” James leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Yes, and we’re not sure if it’s on our side. But it led us back to the base, to Marek Park. That’s where we found Tengo.” I paused, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “And baby, you should have seen it. I pulled out this weapon Rika gave us. We all had weapons.”
“Weapons now? Z, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair, let out a hard sigh, then leaned forward again. “Alright, weapons, fighting demons, Marek Park, check… uh wait, what did you say your weapon was called again?”
“A kama.”
“You mean a bed? How is that a weapon?”
“James, not the Spanish cama. It’s an Okinawan word. K-A-M-A, that’s how you spell it.”
“Oh, I knew that. I mean doesn’t everybody?”
I slapped his thigh. “James Marlowe, you’re impossible. Anyway, a kama is a kind of farming tool here. Rika, a local Okinawan – she’s a noro, like a local type of spirit guide an’ all that can communicate with spirits – taught us how to use mabui, like a kind of soul energy, to summon them.”
James put the heel of his palm on his forehead, then rubbed vigorously. I took a second to catch my breath after that rapid fire explanation.
“Z, so you’re tellin’ me you fought demons…”
“Yeah.”
“With a farm tool…”
“Uh huh.”
“That you got from an Okinawan mystic…”
“…yeah…”
“Using magical energy, called ‘mabooee’, at Marek Park?”
“You don’t believe me.”
James half smiled. I couldn’t tell if it was jest or concern. But either way, I didn’t like it. In less than a second, I was on my feet again. Staring daggers at him.
“Z, c’mon, I didn’t say I don’t believe you… it’s just—”
“Just what?”
“The whole thing sounds a little, well, er… crazy…”
“So ya think I’m nuts, now!?”
He stood then stiffened, “Will you stop putting words in my mouth?”
“I will when you stop acting like a damn five-year-old about all this.” I couldn't even look at him, so I turned away. Heart pounding, arms shaking supported on the recliner, for some reason, my fingers fascinated me. It had been a month since my last manicure. Dry, lackluster, uneven – all words that described them, normal… until they weren’t. The skin cracked, split, and flaked floating away like campfire ash after a boot smashing in early dawn; knuckles bulged hard, nails extended into pointed steeples – vampire claws sharp enough to draw blood with a poke. The urge came suddenly, terrible and absolute: not only hunger, but hunger for… for what? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. But it was a forbidden lust nothing on this Earth could satiate. Oh God, what is happening to me?
And then James’s hand brushed my back. Just like that, the claws retracted like box cutter blades, the skin mended itself. I stood there, breath caught in my throat, wondering what it would’ve felt like to tear something apart.
“Z… look I—”
I spun and clung to him tight. My eyes hot and blurry. I let it out there, all of it. The fear, stress, uncertainty, bloodlust—it fell on his strong shoulder, wetting his shirt.
“Z, I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Jus’… don’t let go.”
He squeezed harder. “Okay, I won’t.”
“Can you fix me somethin’ to eat? I’m starvin’.”
He chuckled, “You got it.”
***
Hours later, we’d done more than just eat. That time of day came for us. About dawn, just before the first light hits the window. Every couple has their favorite time to get it on, that’s ours.
He ravaged me. Ate good down south ‘til I yelled out. Then I returned the favor. Made him moan to the wane moon, call to Mother Almighty. When my breath settled, I passed out for a few hours. Sleeping like a log wasn’t something I’d done in weeks, but exhaustion exercised control, taking me under.
When I awoke, I decided to write this.
I thought about everything that had happened. Adding it all up, it did sound weird. Hell, I barely believe it. But was it real? The memories pressed against the edges of my mind, half-formed and unreal, like a dream slipping through my fingers the harder I tried to hold onto them. Students, demons, gates, Rika’s worried expression after sealing the first one—it was all there, tangled and incomplete, making less sense the more I thought about it. Did we do the wrong thing? Did I?
James woke up. After freshening up, he dove back into bed, then said, “Let’s just stay in bed today, I don’t feel like doin’ a damn thing.”
“That would be nice,” I leaned in and gave him a kiss. When he returned it with equal enthusiasm, happy butterflies flitted in my stomach. “Oh I wish we could, but don’t we have that party at the O Club tonight? The one for Lieutenant Colonel promotion release?”
“Shit, almost forgot. I guess I should make an appearance.” He cocked his head to the side quizzically. Something told me he wasn't thinking about the party.
“What is it?”
“So, what did the demons look like? Did they look, well… demon-y? Y’know horns, pointy tail, red skin, that kinda thing?”
I let out a laugh, “Some of them did, others… not so much.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated. He frowned.
“Z, I promise I’ll listen. This stuff is just a lot to take in. C’mon, lay it on me.”
One of my hairs was hooked in his stubbled chin. It was gold gray (another gray… great). I brushed it away. “Well… there seems to be a head demon. Rika said his name is Ufuzato.”
“Ufu-what?”
“Ufuzato, he’s the boss, that’s what it seemed like. Then there’s another one called the Garappa, a lizard-type demon. They usually hang out in the north, but this one was down here, probably because of the gates.”
James shook his head. “Damn, that’s wild.”
“Then there was another one, a woman with a young pretty face, but she was wearing a large potato sac or somethin’. Not sure what she was hiding under there, though.”
“I can think of at least two things heh.”
“James!” I shoved him. “That wasn’t the most shocking part...”
“I shoulda known you weren’t done.”
“We fought with two human-helpers only ta find out they were Principal Kane and Dr. Débora Araújo, some contractor I’ve seen around the school the last few months.”
James’s mouth gaped. “Her name’s a mouthful. What was the principal doing there?”
“I… have no idea. But he was fighting with the demons.”
We both sat in sunken silence. The corner appeared clear, but there was a pressure in my chest. One that comes right before a cough. I swallowed to pop it, knowing full well what might happen if an attack hit me.
“Z, this is some crazy shit. I know I’ve said it before, but we need to call Ghostbusters or Ghost Hunters or damn, I don’t know who. All I know is you’re out there fighting demons, and I'm just here... Doesn’t feel right.” His shoulders slumped.
I massaged his back in gentle circles. “I know baby.”
He put on his serious face, “But for real, you can’t just go off on your own like that. When I couldn’t get a hold of you that night, and I heard about the chaos on the highway, I didn’t want to… I just didn’t want to think about you bein’ hurt… or worse.”
I gripped his hand. It was cold. I wanted to warm it back up with all my heart.
“It’s too dangerous. These… these creatures, all this supernatural stuff, it’s too crazy. We don’t know what we’re messin’ with.” James ran his hands through his hair. “You know they raised the FPCON to Charlie?”
“Yeah, I saw that. I was lucky to get back on base.”
“Because they don’t know who’s a demon and who’s not. It’s a new terrorist witchhunt.”
James sighed. “So, the principal of the high school is working with the demons? Honestly, where do they find these people? They need to tighten up their screening process.”
I laughed. “No joke!”
“So what happened with him?”
“I’m not sure. He and Dr. Araújo, disappeared with the rest of the demons when we closed the gate… all this time, and no wonder all that weird shit was going on at school. I shoulda seen somethin’ earlier.” I hung my head.
James placed a gentle hand on my thigh. “It’s not your fault, Z. If he was doing that stuff at school, it’s just... I’m glad no kids got hurt. At least, as far as we know.”
“Right. But we don’t know where they are, and with it bein’ summer an’ all, it’s gonna be difficult to find em’.”
“There’s always OSI,” James suggested.
“Maybe we can go there, have them search for Kane and Araújo. But can they really find two criminals working with demons from another dimension? Is that even in their jurisdiction?” I didn’t hide my doubt.
James squeezed my hand. “No harm in asking. I've got an agent's business card. He comes over to the squadron every now and then – tall pretty boy, talks like he’s singing. I'll give him a call tomorrow.”
My stomach tightened as I recalled my questioning in their freezing office. “Was that—"”
The phone buzzed on the nightstand sending a jolt through my chest. I read the screen: “PRIVATE NUMBER.” With a trembling hand, I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Zena Marlowe?” A woman’s voice asked. It was clipped, professional, and caused a familiar anxious rush to volt through me.
“Yes, this is she. Who’s askin’?”
“Miss Marlowe, this is Special Agent Freya Chen with OSI. Remember me? Thought so. I’d like to ask you some questions about the Marek Park incident.”
Chapter 40
The OSI 部隊 detachment was different this time. One of the fluorescent lights winked on and off in the lobby, the hallway stretched longer than I remembered (non-descript doors flanking me like a funhouse) as the agents led me to the interview room.
When we arrived, I sat slow, took a breath. No matter how deep the inhalation, an antiseptic tang like an old hospital, landed on my tongue. I smacked my lips, but the taste stained. There was a sense of more eyes on the opposite side of the mirrored window – this time, I’d have to leave something more behind. Thinking about what it was (the not knowing) made my jaw tense.
Agent Chen was in casual clothes – jeans, a T–shirt under a vest that allowed her chiseled arms room to flex. Her smile was 秘密 secret; it told me part of her enjoyed seeing me there again.
“Good to see you again, Miss Marlowe. How’ve you been?”
I fought the urge to hit her. “Been good. You?”
“Truthfully, things were slow until your “situation” came to life again. Interesting stuff, I gotta say.” Chen’s smile wasn’t meant to comfort. It came on weak, as if it were the one muscle in her body she rarely exercised.
The way she said situation made me ball up my fists in my lap. Was she trying to get me riled up? I had no idea. But it had the effect she wanted, because when she scribbled something in her notepad, never looking away, my blood got moving faster and hotter.
Next to her, Agent Tamm with his boyish complexion, wore a faltering frown. It slipped like a Halloween mask when he slid a bottle of water my way.
“Here, it’s hot out,” he said.
I nodded acceptance, cracked the cap, then drank. An excuse to do something with my hands. After a few refreshing gulps, I sealed it, set it down, then let out a long exhale. Chen’s eyes remained locked on too long, dissecting, savoring. I couldn’t decide whether her curiosity was real or staged, but it pressed heavy on my chest.
“Why’d you call me?”
“You do realize how this looks, right?” She asked.
“How what looks?”
She reached in a large envelope and produced photos. Some were grainy with blurred details, others were high resolution, professionally captured. I was in all of them. One at a time she laid them out: me entering and exiting the base, standing with the students outside of Rika’s house, at Kadena Marina, sprinting down 58 (blade in hand), at Marek Park just before sunset, in the driveway at home – by the time I finished examining the prints my heart was pumping a mad rhythm.
“Is that you in these photos, Miss Marlowe?” Chen asked. Her tone had an edge of innocence to it.
“I… you’ve been following me?”
Chen let out a single chuckle, “Well, yeah. It’s kinda what we do. Oh and with all the other strange things happening on and off base since we last met, well… bad luck seems to just follow you around. It’s like you’re cursed or something.”
I swallowed. Even in the freezing office, perspiration gathered on my body as if I were sitting in an un-airconditioned car idling in traffic under an August sun.
Agent Tamm gestured toward the water bottle. I took another sip.
“Can you explain what you were doing at Marek Park two nights ago?” Chen asked.
I didn’t know what to say. “I… uh, no. But it’s not what you think. It’s way more complicated.”
“Explain it to me. I’ve got all day.”
I knew at that moment, no matter what I said she wouldn’t believe it. How could I get out of this? I didn’t have time to be stuck here. The other gates were still out there – somewhere. Ufuzatou, Garappa, Biba, how long would they wait? They wouldn’t. Whatever they wanted was happening NOW, while I was trapped getting grilled. This bullshit investigation was in my way.
The thought bled into my brain without warning, a voice I didn’t recognize but one I craved to obey: Just kill her.
The hunger dragged its claws through my stomach, folding me from the inside, utter evisceration. The vicious thought hung behind my eyes, no blinking it off. My hand twitched toward the bulge in her vest—just a simple move, so easy, as if the gun was already in my palm. The press of cool metal, soft recoil kicking back into my bones, and the silence—ringing, absolute—after the blast. No thought beyond. Just satisfaction of quelling the angry anxiety living in the stinking dark bottom of my bowels.
Just kill her.
The thought burst through again from a deeper place – one I had no awareness of. The change was immediate. That harrowing hunger, beyond standard starvation, seized my intestines and yanked down. I was an untamed animal, feral gnashing jaws slobbering want.
Just kill her.
My eyes floated to her vest, toward the gun. Just… kill her. I watched as I went for it. Tamm reacted quicker than I expected. The blast beat the bullet before the black. BANG.
A second soft pop, too distant to be real—tore the thought apart. Chen’s voice slipped in through the seam of it, pulling me back.
“Miss Marlowe?” The room snapped back into focus, cold air pressing against my skin, my fingers limp at my sides.
“Miss Marlowe? Still with me?” Agent Chen asked puzzled. There was irritated concern all over her voice.
Tamm whispered something in her ear. She looked me up and down, then raised a palm of acknowledgement.
“Miss Marlowe, I mean, Zena, I know you’re in a bad place right now. But, believe it or not, I’m on your side. All this business with ancient spirits and ten-foot-tall lizards is scary stuff. I want to get it figured out, just like you. But you being silent is causing more harm than good.”
Tamm passed a thick file of records to her.
She scanned the one on the top. “We’ve got a kid with deep lacerations on his arm. Jordan Brooks, right?”
My pulse quickened at the mention of his name. I managed a nod.
Chen continued to the next record. “We’ve got another one who won’t talk to anyone, and he’s showing signs—COVID-like signs.” She leaned forward. “You know him, Tengo, one of your students?”
I lowered my head.
Next record. “One of the girls a... Cyan, yeah, her neck was burned by an unidentified projectile weapon and she’s barely recovered from that fire you were involved in at your school last month—”
“I didn’ start that fire!”
Agent Chen nodded, her expression undisturbed. “I never said you did. Now let me finish. The other student, Ethan, gave us nothing; and Rika refused to come in. But everyone in your little crew seems similarly spooked, shocked, or too scared to say anything really helpful. So, you wanna to tell me what happened?”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Should you be?” Agent Chen folded her arms and sat back. I had no idea how to read her gaze, but she wasn’t happy.
Agent Tamm placed a hand on her shoulder, then clarified, “No, you’re not. We’re just asking questions right now. We want to find out what happened. Why don’t you start with Jordan? How did he get that cut?”
I wrang my sweaty palms together. Would they believe it was from Principal Kane, who was now working with demons for some unknown reason? I took a breath, the stuffy air filling my lungs, and began, “It was Principal Kane. He and Dr. Débora Araújo, I think her name is, they seem to be working with the demons—”
“Speaking of Principal Kane and Dr. Araújo, do you have any idea where they are now?” Agent Chen interjected, her pen poised above her notepad.
“I have no idea. But they disappeared after we closed the gate.”
“Gate? You mean like the ones on the news?” Agent Chen asked.
“…Yeah.”
Agent Tamm cast a suspicious look my way. His partner scribbled more notes, while she shook her head in disbelief.
“Demons?” Agent Tamm said, his voice lilted a minor tone. “You expect us to believe there’s demons roaming around, jumping out of magic gates?”
Frustration bubbled up inside me, hot and prickly against my skin. “Well, what the hell else do ya want me ta say? It’s the truth.”
Agent Chen wrote more notes. What was she even writing? She looked up. “Truth huh? Okay, let’s move on. Tell me about what happened at Marek Park the other evening. Witnesses said you and the students walked up to the shrine near the main road on Douglas and just disappeared. Can you explain that?”
I averted my eyes, grappling with the inexplicable, my heartbeat rattling my body. I was in the kijimuna’s alternate reality, except there was no rainbow-colored sky to wonder at.
“Yeah, it was an alternate reality. I don’t what else ta tell ya.” My words were useless against the burden of their suspicion. No matter how much I said, it only stacked higher, tilting closer to the inevitable collapse.
Agent Chen made a face of exasperation. She was probably under thirty, but at that moment she looked much older.
Agent Tamm sighed. “Miss Marlowe, we want to help, but I’m gonna need you to start being honest with us. Right now, what you’re saying doesn’t make much sense.”
“What do you want me to say?” I shot back, my voice rising. “This is exactly what happened! I don’t understand it myself, but this island is under threat from forces nobody understands. I’ve seen it. Is that somethin’ you can believe?”
The agents stared, a brick of silence between us. A sudden knock broke the stillness, sharp as a gunshot. A tall, burly man – silver flecks in his hair - peeked in, his presence filled the doorway. “Chen, Tamm, a word.”
The agents cast quizzical looks his way. Before they could follow the order, the door opened wider with a burdened groan, as if it had grown weary from years of confessions and lies. The man who stepped through didn’t belong here—something about the way his eyes slid too smoothly over everything jarred me, like he could see the room with special vision.
The short, portly man with dark skin, in an offbeat suit pushed his way in. I got a whiff of his cologne - a complex blend of rugged sophistication that reminded me of campfires, woods, rivers, and smores. “All right, I believe that’s enough. You’ve had your chance. Now it’s up to me.” His words were aimed at the agents, but he only looked at me.
The two agents glared at him, disgust undisguised. Their faces cast in sharp relief by the harsh lighting. Agent Chen made a final note and stood. Agent Tamm followed with puppy-like movement, his tall frame hunched. The door slammed behind them, the sound reverberating in the cleared room.
The newcomer stared back at me, a glint in his eye. “I’m the one you should be talking to.”
He studied my face with a smile hovering somewhere between charm and hunger. “You’ve touched the gates, haven’t you, Zena?” His words slithered through the air, and I knew, without a doubt, that this man had been waiting for me far longer than I’d known he existed.
Chapter 41
We 決闘した dueled with our eyes, but I had no weapons to fight with.
“Have you touched the gates?” He asked again. The question was a quickshot in the dark.
“Yeah, I have. Who are you?”
He grinned, made a jerky movement of excitement, then reached for a small brown briefcase. Once on the table, he unclipped it and pulled out a single piece of paper. With a gentle flick of his wrist, he slid it towards me. “This is for you, Miss Marlowe, or Zena, if you prefer.”
I scowled before scanning the document, my brow wrinkled deeper with each line. By the end, my jaw was tight enough to crush metal. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. I'm not signin’ this.” I pushed the paper away, “I don’t even know who the hell I’m talkin’ to.”
His enthusiasm remained constant. “We’ll get to that. But by now you must understand what’s at
stake. At this very moment, this island is under attack by うふざとう and his companion demons.”
うふざとう。At the mention of the name, his face appeared as if right before mine, reflecting every twitch of facial muscle. Tar toned skin, crooked urine smile, hair lighting the night like a portable inferno. That rush for want - the devouring obsession - tugged at my organs for release. My throat tightened, dry as ash. I coughed, rough and violent, until my ribs ached. A string of throat spasms burned my neck. The man in the mismatched suit sat back and watched until it was over.
“How… how do you know… that name?” I wheezed. I reached for the bottle of water to drain the rest of it.
“I know a lot more than that. I also know, you’re in a bind. An article 119b case is a very serious matter.”
“Article 119b? What’s that?” My temperature rose again when I asked.
“Child endangerment. For placing your students in harm’s way - a very heinous offense. I’ve never seen anyone convicted of it before. You might be the first in a long time.”
My head was spinning. A wave of lightheadness nearly caused me to fall to the floor. “Child endangerment?” I mumbled, “But I, I did everything I could to protect them. I always have…”
He picked up the document, glanced at it, then looked directly at me with a piercing gaze. “I know and I believe you. Anyone who would scrape their hands raw digging at burning concrete for a child that isn’t their own has the soul of a mother, blood or not.”
Soul of a mother? The words made my eyes grow hot.
“But Zena, you must know, this pending charge is only the tip of the trouble you’re in. Greater danger lies out there,” he pointed toward, no - through, the wall to the conspiring forests outside and their many alien contents. “As we speak, ancient creatures that would do harm to everyone you hold dear - Cyan, Ethan, Lily, Jordan, Tengo, and Yumi - move restlessly across the beaches and roads of this place. Everyone is in peril. Including your beloved, James…”
James. My eyes drifted to the paper.
He set it down gingerly, then spun it toward me. I read it again.
“This is the first step to keeping them safe. When you sign, I promise you, I will do everything in my power to accomplish that end.” He leaned back feigning casualness. “Or, you can not sign and try your luck with beating the child endangerment case. Do you know a good lawyer? Because you’ll need one to avoid, what is in my experience, an open and shut case. So Zena… what will you do?”
I pressed my lips into a tight line. A languid anger simmered beneath my skin. My hair hung in wet strings from humid sweat. I was the quarterback who’d been tackled too many times on the same day by dozens of padded men. “You're asking me to give up my career to work with you?”
“Not asking, Zena, offering. The acting principal of your school has already signed off on this.” He tapped the paper. “You have two choices. Sign to resign, clear the school of any wrongdoing, fully join the investigation, and drop this ridiculous charge against you, or I let the Air Force agents return and finish what they started. Judging by how things were going, the latter option appears grim.”
My eyes flicked back and forth between him and the paper.
“I’ll give you some time.”
With that, he peeled himself out of the chair and left, abandoning me with the document and a single pen. I knew they were watching my every move through the one-way glass, studying my reaction. Outside, the forest stirred—a conspiracy of rustling branches and shadowed gaps that seemed to hold its breath while I considered my predicament.
The weight of the decision crashed down. The faces of my students drifted before me, their trust and hopes resting on my shoulders. Child endangerment? From an outsider’s perspective, I could see it that way. All the clandestine meetings in the classroom, on Discord, at Rika’s House, Kadena Marina, Marek Park, taken out of context could be seen as nefarious. I had to own that. I was the adult, and I could’ve (should’ve) backed off. That said, in my heart, I knew I’d done everything possible to keep them safe, while keeping the bigger picture in mind.
Did you pray?
There was an invisible tug at my knees to drop, seek forgiveness, ask God for guidance. With everything that had happened, would he even recognize me? More unsettling still – I wasn’t sure who or what would answer my plea or what effect it might have on everyone if I got Him involved.
Then there was my career, could I just give it up like this? Teaching was my life, my passion. What would I do without it?
The pen on the table was a deadly instrument – a knife with no handle. You pick it up and bleed, no other way.
James. His name scraped at the edges of my mind, stirring guilt and anger in equal measure. What would he do if he were here? What would he say? Probably say some lame joke.
My hands hovered, indecisive. What if signing this is just another mistake? The students… all their faces drifted through the fog of my thoughts. I tried to protect them. I did everything I could… Doubt clung like a blood-harvesting leech.
I lifted the paper. It felt warm under my fingertips, almost alive, as if it had been sitting too long under the light. Or maybe it just wanted me to believe that.
My eyes flicked to the pen: simple, black, but waiting for me to slash myself. Every breath thickened in the room, the walls leaned inward to look, the shadows pooled in deeper. The unknown man left, but his presence lingered like damp wood rot. The one-way glass gleamed faintly. I imagined their eyes behind it, waiting to see what I’d do.
After an eternity, I reached for the pen and signed my signature on the bottom line. I dropped it and crossed my arms, a hardened stone expression on my face.
Seconds later, the man returned, carrying the scent of the woods with him. “I know it was difficult, but you made the right decision.” He eased himself back into the chair across from me.
“You gonna tell me who you are now? You’re clearly not OSI.”
“No, I’m even further above that,” he pointed at the ceiling, “I’m with the United States Space Force Department of Otherworldly Affairs. DOA for short. Never heard of us, have you?” He produced a business card from his breast pocket. On a bland white card, his name was there: SPACE FORCE AGENT JUDIN MARKS.
“Space Force?” The words tasted ridiculous in my mouth. I nearly laughed, but the look in his eyes stopped me. “Wait, you’re not jokin’, are you?”
“Not at all. We’re brand new, formed specifically for situations like this. Ones outside the Air Force’s purview. They walk among us, and you've seen them yourself. That’s why we’re here.”
A tight coil of dread wound itself around my lungs. I had nothing to say. He’s right. I have seen them and what they can do. The thought was overshadowed by the disbelief that the US government saw a need to create such an organization. How many more threats were out there beyond our sight and understanding?
“How are you different from OSI?”
Proudly he said, “Our jurisdiction is anything extraterrestrial. And that’s not just aliens. It’s anything off planet or outside the human plane of existence. In other words, if it violates the laws of physics, conventional science, or common sense, it is our job to observe, nullify, or neutralize those threats against humanity.”
“Does that include people who help these ‘otherworldy’ forces?” I asked.
“Correct.”
“So Principal Kane and Débora Araújo—”
“Are interdimensional fugitives of the United States Space Force. The first two.”
He placed the paper back into his briefcase, clicked it shut then stood. My head was bunched with too many thoughts to think straight or move.
“Are you hungry?”
Only when he asked did my stomach respond with a growl. “Yeah. Haven’t eaten all day.”
“Will you dine with me for lunch? I know a good brunch place on the seawall, Seaside Terrace, very quaint, adorable spot.”
The thought of cinnamon French toast and bacon made me salivate. “Okay, sounds good.”
“I know where the second gate is.”
I stopped mid-movement. “You do?”
He nodded. “Getting there will be a challenge. But I have a plan that you’ll want to hear. Yumi Uehara is already on board. You’re the missing piece.”
Yumi? She was full of surprises.
“We’ll talk details over a meal,” he said.
A wrinkle in his smile suggested that whatever plan he had was already in motion.
Chapter 42
It had been many years since I was at a rowdy バー bar at the height of a party. Dressed in hip hugging jeans, a purple blouse, a dab of glittering hot cherry lip gloss and swipes of eyeliner, I gripped the mug of Orion beer to conceal my quivering fingers. It was a shame I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the festive atmosphere.
I thought back to hours before, when a grave-faced Agent Judin told me where the second gate was.
“Peace Prayer Park.”
“The one way down south at the end of the island?”
“Precisely.”
I checked my phone. “When do we go? Lunch time traffic is probably horrible by now.”
He shook his head with a cryptic smile. “Zena, it doesn’t work that way. Many of the gates are sealed off by some kind of demonic energy. We don’t
know why, but we can’t just drive there, buy tickets, and walk in.”
“Oh,” I didn’t hide my disappointment.
“More complicated is that the gates only open at certain times of the day. Again, we don’t know why, but this one only opens at 2008 hours.”
“Why such a specific time?”
“Not sure yet. But there’s one more critical thing you should understand about what we’re dealing with.”
“What’s that?”
“Each gate has a trial associated with it. Some type of ancient initiation to weed out those who are unworthy of dimension-crossing.”
I thought for a second. “But we didn’t pass a trial to go in the first one.”
He nodded slow—a wise gesture. “Maybe you didn’t, but someone else close to you did.”
“Tengo…” I muttered. The memory was still too raw to touch.
“Exactly. Tengo’s trial crossing the highway, administered by the kijimuna, was likely the unlocking mechanism for the first gate - the Gate of Trust.”
My adrenaline got going at the thought. “So, what’s the trial for the second one?”
“Unclear. But according to one of our brightest analysts, it could involve an emotional or relational theme.”
“That’s vague. It could be about anything, faith or even love…”
“Could be… but not all forms of love are pleasant. Haven’t been for me.” There was a stab of silence while he searched his phone.
He took a sip of his coffee, a nibble of toast, then said, “There are ‘demi-gates’ in many places around Okinawa. These smaller doorways are like doors in a house. They often provide passage to areas near the main ones.”
“I understand. So I’m guessin’ there’s one of these nearby?”
“Yes. It’s at the O Club. But you’ll need a certain item to get through. I’ll give it to you now.”
The last time I got that much information (and cared about it) was Calculus class freshmen year – the last math class I’d ever take.
Now I was in the O Club with bassy music vibrating under my shoes, a crowd of dozens of voices tingling my ears, and the smell of fried club food and beer waving past – an exhilarating and nerve-grating experience.
The small ballroom was packed. Half of the attendees were bag wearers—James’s kind. Garbed in green flight suits they shouted, laughed and danced as they passed pitchers of Okinawa’s favorite beer between them. On stage, five of them formed an impromptu band. The red-faced lead singer belted out Americana classic tunes―Journey, Lynard Skynard, Aerosmith―while taking periodic swigs from his drink.
Soon the band kicked into a raucous rendition of “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and the room swelled with collective joy. Yet, beneath the thrum of excitement, something sour lingered. It wasn’t the beer stench or the oily club food. It was... a heaviness, like the shadow before a storm.
“Whew! You dancin’?” Yumi asked breathlessly. She found me at the bar after bouncing among tables, socializing and dancing her way around the room. “These pilots know how to party!”
I let out a protracted laugh. “Sure beats our teacher work day meetins. But…” My smile faded as I gently pulled her close. “…remember why we’re here. It shouldn’t be long now.” My words came out faster than my mind could process them.
She took a step back. “Yeah, yeah I know. Operation Demon Slayer—”
“Shh! Don’t say it so loud!”
Yumi’s face didn’t flinch as she raised her voice to party volume, “I mean, it’s such a COOL show! Did you watch it?” She downed another gulp of beer as the foam flattened on mine on the counter.
I shook my head smiling.
She brought her lips close to my ear and shouted above the blasting music, “Just because we’re ‘working’ doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. This,” she held up her glass and pointed, “makes you more open to seeing spirits. Trust me. Alcohol helps open even the tightest of tight-asses, right?”
I snickered spit. “True story.” The levity didn’t hold. My face fell to semi-serious again. “Have you seen any, y’know, folks that don’t belong here, yet?”
Her response was a sardonic grin, “I’m a noro, not Spider Gwen. No spidey sense powers here, buuut, there is some weird energy. Nothing out of the ordinary compared to most places around the island. But it’s there.”
“I see.”
She slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Relax, I’ll get us some shots. That’ll calm you down.” She turned toward the bar to place an order.
As smoothly as possible, I reached into my purse. For the tenth time this evening, I made an invisible inventory of the two items I would need to fulfill my role.
My fingers brushed over the first one. The slick plastic surface was cool to the touch yet appeared no more menacing than a water pistol under the light. It was a “Rift Ripper.” A device capable of opening the “demi-gates” I learned about earlier. When the time was right, I’d use it to open the one here and then... I had no idea what to expect after that.
Due to technological limitations and knowledge gaps, the odd tool would only work at specific places and at certain times of day. Nonchalantly, I touched it again. The portal gun hummed faintly, its vibrations sliding under my fingertips like a heartbeat. Too soft to draw attention, but impossible to ignore. It was as if the device sensed something before I did—like a dog alerting you to thunder that hadn’t yet rolled.
“That’s why I need you at the O Club tonight,” Agent Judin explained earlier. Over coffee and French toast, we went over the entire plan.
“But it’s the Lieutenant Colonel promotion release party. Won’t that get in the way?”
He let a shaded smile spread across his face. “Even better. Contrary to what you see in popular media, demons love a large crowd. More souls, bright and brimming, for collection.” His words made my neck tense.
My fingers slid over the second article in my purse. It was a smartphone, but not a normal one. This one was specially designed by the Space Force to detect and defend against demon activity. It had several features. In my anxious state, I struggled to recall them all, but the most important ones remained front and center in my head.
A big one was the colored bar that displayed the current demon activity level (now at zero, thankfully).
Then there was a Soul Gauge. With a long thumb press, it showed how much of your soul remained. Agent Judin attempted to tell me how it worked, but it flew completely over my head. Out of curiosity, I opened the app and jammed my thumb against the screen. For a while, all I felt was my own edgy pulse pushing back. Does this thing even work? Then the words: ANALYZING SOUL came on. I held my breath - one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three – 100%. But before I could fully exhale, the screen flickered. Circles became blocks, the display distorted and tore. For a fleeting second, the screen read 95%. Must be a glitch. Agent Judin said this was experimental, right? Right? Read your soul with an app? Probably a buncha bullshit. After that, I closed it, hoping I’d never have to use it again.
The most useful feature was the camera. Far more useful than the stock app, this one could freeze malevolent spirits if you snapped a picture of them. The closer the subject, the greater the effect. “Not sure why the camera growls when you take pictures. Our dev teams always did have an interesting sense of humor,” Agent Judin said when he showed off the phone. He also mentioned there might be some side-effects to using the camera. Something about spectergraphic light, that I couldn’t follow because I was too caught up with the purpose of this strange photographic device – to capture possibly malicious beings from other dimensions in digital form. The thought of a soul-snatching ghost so close made my teeth clench.
“Anything happen yet?”
James returned from a table with his buddies. Before an increasingly hyped-up crowd, the band played a funky version of Blackstreet’s 1990s hit “No Diggity.”
“Not yet,” I said.
Earlier, after Agent Judin finished demoing all the gadgets and had me sign more CYA forms, I said nervously, “I want my husband to know about what we’re doing.”
He viewed me with intrigue. If he was annoyed, he concealed it well. “You understand the risks you’d be putting him in. Are you sure?”
Suddenly the half cup of coffee I’d drank made me queasy. I wasn’t sure. My response surprised both of us. “Yes. This whole thing has been hard for us. I don’t wanna leave him in the dark again.”
His diamond-sharp eyes squinted from a small smile. After I signed yet another liability waiver he said, “I tried marriage once. Wasn’t for me. But I’ve always admired those who treat it with equal or greater importance as their day job. Call your husband.”
I smiled, then dialed James.
Not surprisingly, he was mega enthusiastic about everything (easily forgot about the child endangerment case against me and that I had to give up teaching). In less than five minutes, he was asking about what his codename would be. “Oh, oh can I be “J”? Like Agent J from Men In Black? We are talking about “beings from another dimension” after all.”
In the café, on speaker, James kept his voice low, but his spirit high. Agent Judin crossed his arms but let a genuine grin onto his face. He gestured it was alright.
“Sure baby.”
“Sweet! Okay [what’s the plan?]” He dropped his voice an octave as if he were some kind of secret agent. Oh my James.
As thrilled as I was that we’d be doing this together, I wasn’t sure if including him would turn out well. Post shower, preparing for the evening, a flash of うふざとう’s face in the mirror filled me with foreboding. Somewhere in the catacombs of my heart, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. One I’d regret for the rest of my life.
But I did my best to let it go. I wanted to enjoy this rare moment with him and my best friend.
“Psst, Agent “J” reporting in.” James’s whisper sent ripples of delight down my spine. “You okay?” He pulled away just a little.
“Yeah, all good,” I whipped my hair to the side.
“You look hot. Why’d we stop goin’ out?”
“Because you’re never here and I’m too tired most of the time.”
“Damn, when did we get so old? We should do this more.”
“You mean go ghost hunting?”
“Oh can we? You know what they say: the couple that hunts ghosts together fucks better.”
I laughed, “That’s not a thing.”
James leaned in. “No? Well anyway, I’m glad we’re doing this together, Z.”
I squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
“I don’t see any demons on the dance floor, though. Maybe they need lessons?”
I laughed louder than I expected to.
“Wait, do demons even have feet?”
“Some do,” I said with a heavy look. Just as the words left my mouth, my earpiece crackled to life.
Operation Demon Slayer a go in 15 minutes.
Agent Judin’s voice made me jump. I raised my finger to my ear to adjust the listening device. Realizing my error, I casually brushed strands of hair away from my head. I gritted my teeth with self-condemnation at the rookie move.
James noticed my frustration. He pulled me close, and said, “You’re a teacher, not Kim Possible. Go easy on yourself. I’ve got your back.” He brought his soft lips to mine, and I felt safe again.
Yumi approached with three shots of clear liquid. “Alright, alright you two, save some love for the rest of us. Here, have some shitty sake.”
We took the glasses then raised them.
“What are we drinkin’ to?” James asked.
I thought for a second. “To a curse-free life.”
Yumi hopped with a wide grin. She held the glass high, standing on her toes.
“To an uncursed life! Banzai!” She threw her head back and downed the drink.
“Banzai!” James and I repeated.
A low burn sizzled in the back of my throat as the fluid fell into my stomach. I smacked my tongue, desperate for a chaser to drive off the bitterness. But I’m from Texas and that’s not how we do things, so I grimaced then whooped loud. I was starting to have some fun.
Operation Demon Slayer, go in 10.
Gate analysis complete. Gate of Love. Gate of Love. For the second trial.
Gate of Love? The words repeated in my head, slow and deliberate, like a warning bell. Love could mean anything—loyalty, commitment, sacrifice.
Sacrifice... what if that was part of the trial? What if passing this gate meant losing James? I inhaled deep to help dismiss the thought. It helped slightly, but menacing contemplation remained clipped there like a note on the refrigerator.
With the warning in my ear, a sober expression returned to my face. I swiveled my vision around the crowded space.
Across the room, the band played “Sweet Caroline.” All the pilots rose to their feet, raising sloshing glasses and pitchers—some hugged each other, caught up in the moment. Even a previously silent group of dull medical officers in the back sang and clapped along. Neil Diamond’s crisp and crunchy classic was always one of my favorites. I sang along.
Where it began
I can't begin to knowin’
But then I know it's growin’ strong
Was in the spring
And spring became the summer
Who’ d have believed you'd come along?
“You’re really pretty.”
A short sandy-haired pilot with a bug of a mustache stood teetering before Yumi. In her low-cut floral top and jeans that flattered everything below her waist, she’d had come-ons all night. I wondered if this guy would be the chosen one.
“Aw, you are too,” she replied with great sincerity. “Let’s take a picture. Zena, do you mind?” She thrust out her hip at an alluring angle, while her eyes remained locked on his. The pilot visually caressed her curves.
I slipped her phone out of her back pocket. “Not at all,” I said, with a knowing gleam in my eye.
Yumi spun to stand next to him. He inclined his head close to hers flashing an ill-timed smile.
Hands, touchin’ hands
Reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ youuu...
“3… 2… 1...” The shutter clicked, and the screen flashed. I flipped the phone to inspect the photo. At first glance, it looked ordinary—Yumi, flushed and glowing with a mischievous grin, leaning into the shit-faced pilot’s shoulder. I smiled, ready to hand the phone back. But then—
Wait.
A smear of darkness hovered just behind them, barely visible through the crowd’s blur of movement. I zoomed in, my finger shaking against the glass. The shape resolved into something long and gaunt—short limbs, white eyes over a fuzzy silhouetted body. The thing’s face stretched downward, mouth half-open as if caught in the middle of a word.
A demon on the dance floor stared back.
Chapter 43
A three-legged ヤギ goat with hollow, lidless eyes rippled into view, its fur a filthy patchwork of tangled silver. Hooves stuttering against the dance floor, sending jittery shadows flickering across the walls, it stepped to an unheard song. Each horn, curved like bashing blades glinting with an ominous luminescence. I couldn’t stop the phone trembling in my hand.
“Yumi!”
As soon as I called her name, the room belted out in disharmony:
Sweet Caroline! Bah bah bah!
“Everybody out!” James yelled. That’s when the fire alarm went off. Off notes twanged on stage when the music came to a graceless end.
Next was pandemonium.
The crowd surged, a roaring tide of confused bodies slamming toward exits, tearing away from fallen chairs and crushed glasses. Rampaging chaos.
The demon ran in a circle, its hooves clicking on the hardwood, spilling drinks, flipping tables, and splitting shins as it charged. The band tripped over their discarded instruments to escape out the side door. Many others crammed at the entrance, desperate to flee the scene.
I rummaged through my purse. Flustered. Frantic. Yumi and James stood beside me, their faces taut with worry. In my earpiece, Agent Judin's voice came on, cutting through the disorder. “Use the camera to identify, then freeze it!”
Another pilot went down wailing, holding his bloody leg after the phantom farm animal thrust a horn in his calf.
From the bar, I aimed the camera. “I-I can’t get it! It’s too fast.”
“You can and will,” Agent Judin said. His tone was amazingly calm.
“Z, you can do it,” James said. His soft (slightly sweaty) hand pressed on my shoulder. Despite everything—the blood, shouting, foul stink of the creature—James’s touch sent a warmth into my bones. I had to try.
Out of nowhere, everything decelerated. My hands relaxed, breath deepened, vision sharpened all as if I were ten years younger. One wink – my fingers sprouted stabbing nails the color of bone-rot above black fingers – two winks, they were young(ish) smooth digits again.
I had my shot. SNAP! (GROWL..)
In the frame, a ghastly herbivore wearing a shaggy beard rammed a Black woman in a sleeveless dress at the knee. The way the leg bent was abnormal. Pained shock showed in the way her eyes goggled.
Unlike the Soul Gauge, the camera worked almost instantly.
Yumi, then James, rushed over to look.
DEMON IDENTIFIED:
妖怪: カタアシピンザ (Kata-ashi Pinza).
出発場所: 宮古島 (Miyako Island)
特徴: A goat demon missing one leg. If it crosses between your legs, it steals your マブイ mabui (soul)
Horns may glow and [DATA MISSING] your legs. Beware!
対処方法: Close your legs. It might be a real goat.
“That’s definitely no real goat,” James said.
“How is it here?” I asked.
Yumi’s voice was barely audible over the commotion. “I have no idea, but we need to stop it before it kills someone.”
“Hey, I got this!” In the middle of the dance floor, the sandy-haired pilot who had approached Yumi stood with arms wide. His face set with determination. He and two of his buddies attempted to corral the ghost animal. Alcohol made them sluggish compared to its unnatural speed.
“No! Don't try to catch it!” I yelled.
But it was too late. The triple-legged goat rushed toward the mustachioed pilot’s legs. The horns tore a gash in his calf, then glowed a pale blue. His legs spread wider providing plenty of room to run through. He let out a scratchy yell as a white flame engulfed him. He burned like a human candle. A plume of light shot to the ceiling. After it went out, he was gone. Only a firework style scorch mark remained where he once was.
Double pandemonium. Yelling, screaming, trampling began as if the goat had waved a semi-automatic weapon in a church.
Yumi stood shaking, her voice quivering. “Holy shit! If it runs between your legs, it steals your soul, right? That’s what the index said?”
I nodded, my throat tight. The goat demon stopped, licked its lips, and looked directly at me. Agent Judin’s voice echoed in my ear, urgent and commanding. “Listen carefully, Zena. Head for the crud room. Lure it there and trap it. Go! Now!”
My eyes flicked toward the back room. “C’mon!”
I rushed over with James and Yumi close behind as I pulled the Rift Ripper from my purse. I hoped the thing worked.
Once inside, there were no other exits. James muttered, his breath coming in short gasps, “Well, great. Now we’re trapped. What's the plan, Z?”
“I-I’m not sure!”
“What!?”
“Uh, Z better do something soon,” Yumi said. Terror was in her tone.
Kata-ashi Pinza clomped into the room. The dead pea eyes seemed to peer semi-circle around it. But I only felt them on me.
“A-Agent Judin? What now?” I yelled.
“Shoot the Rift Ripper into the floor as the demon charges you,” Agent Judin instructed. His voice steady. “The Rift Ripper takes time to recharge. So… aim well. You’ve shot guns before, right?"
“Yes! Yes! Of course! But it was a long time ago!” I said. With my breathing out of control I almost couldn’t get the words out.
“Relax, breathe, aim. Pull, don’t squeeze.”
“Relax.”
The goat horns lit up. That same baleful blue.
I raised the gun. In the front sight, all I saw was the disgusting soul-stealing goat, licking crimson liquid from its bloody beard. Red dots drained like a broken IV drip from its legless stump. Drip, drip against wood sounded in the now empty facility.
The back legs bucked.
Pull, don’t squeeze.
Absolute clarity punctuated the moment. Front sight down. Goat dash. Hooves beat against the floor. Gun blast. Jolt of recoil into my back.
A windy portal broke the floor. On the other side, a blanket of stars beside a pregnant moon reflected in my eyes. How I had time to soak in the beauty for a spell – I don’t know. That same unnatural reflex again. How was this happening?
“Zena!” James’s voice grounded me again. “It fell through! You did it!”
“Nice shooting, Tex!” Yumi said.
Agent Judin’s voice came on over the earpiece, insistent. “Now follow it inside. Hurry!”
“He says we have to jump in!”
James said, “Are you crazy? We just got rid of it!” His voice rose an octave.
Agent Judin repeated, “No, you have to follow it to the gate. It’s our only chance. I’ll meet you there.” This signal went dead.
James glanced at me, resigned, his hand found mine and gripped it with perfect pressure. “Well, I guess we’re doing this.”
I nodded, drawing strength from his touch. “Together.”
Was this the trial of the Gate of Love?
“On three,” Yumi said, her jaw set. “Three, two, one!”
We leapt inside, expecting to fall. For a second or two I inhabited a strange universe. Down was up, night light. Bar-bloodied flooring and star-studded soaring became yin and yang, rotating around a single axis. Me.
I fell sideways, backward, always. My stomach dropped, every bone in my body weightless, floating, until the wheel broke. Until—
I stumbled hands and knees onto soft grass. Unmistakable salty air filled my lungs. Ahead, the vast surface of the black caulked Pacific, glittered a dazzling display of moonshadow on those distant ripples.
We’d arrived at the second gate.
Gate of Love.
“Where are we?” James asked, his eyes scanning our surroundings, taking in the unfamiliar landscape.
Yumi’s voice was heavy with gloom, her gaze fixed on a distant point. “This is Peace Prayer Park, down south in 糸満市Itoman City. And that’s what we’re looking for.” I followed her finger to a circle with a small flame sputtering in the wind below a pavilion. Right before it was the gate crest. A burned purple sea orb atop a hardened reverse fishing net. Kata-ashi Pinza guarded it—odd eyes glinting in the low light.
“Okay what now?” James asked, “Do we throw it some hay or grass or something to get it out of the way?”
For once, I knew what to do. Thrusting my arm out, a blue light formed a ring of brightness around me. When it faded, I gripped the, now lighter, kama in my hand. Its blade shwinged sharp. James looked on flabbergasted.
“I’m… sorry I ever doubted you,” he said in a near whisper.
I returned a tiny smile. “It’s okay, baby.”
Agent Judin’s voice came from behind me. “Perfection, you two.”
“You…? How did you?” I asked with confusion.
He stepped over to us in a black and blue camo get up. Space Force field uniform? The funky futuristic gun in his left hand was something out of a sci-fi movie.
“Nevermind that now. This is the Gate of Love. Zena, that’s why it had to be you and him. That's why I chose you for this mission. Before the gate, and before this demon decides to move, you must kiss each other as husband and wife. Hurry, do it now, or we’ll lose our chance!” He aimed the gnarly weapon at the goat.
I set the kama down. Then turned to James. Unsteady eyes, fidgety hands, spasming lower lip – he was nervous as the day he met my folks to ask to marry me. Still, he looked at me deep.
On my side, I wasn’t doing much better. Full body pungent anxiety sweat repelled even a motherly touch; heart tired from running hot, muscles that threatened revolts from head to toe, spirit sagged from everything I’d been through. Yet, he was there - My James made it alright.
The two of us - dirty, fatigued bags of near-spoiled pulverized meat flesh – lumped together. We joined hands under the moonlight.
“Z, so… we gotta makeout in front of your best friend, a fat guy I don’t know, and a three-legged phantom goat? We’ve done worse.”
I bit back tears as I beat a fist on his doughy chest. “…Yeah, I guess we have.” I turned my head away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cry.”
“Oh…”
“And you have beer breath.”
He scowled briefly. Then his face softened. “You gonna let that stop us from closing this gate?”
I faced him, then shook my head. “No… I love you, James Marlowe.”
“I love you, Zena Marlowe.”
Those were the magic words. Kata-ashi Pinza hurtled at us, horns alight.
I heard Yumi say something urgent. But I didn’t care.
Agent Judin yelled, too. I ignored it.
James pulled me close, his hands warm and steady on my waist, anchoring me to him. In that moment, everything else faded away—the demon, the gate, the fate of the island, all were supplanted by this kiss. It was just us. Our love, our connection - a force stronger than any supernatural power.
Suddenly, James’s body stiffened. I pulled back. Confused, as an ungodly force shoved us two arm’s length apart. James stumbled back as his eyes rounded into circles of terror. The goat’s horns glowed blue, and James's feet began to slide apart against his will, as if controlled by an invisible force.
“Zena, I can’t move!”
I fumbled for the special smartphone, my hands shaking violently. As I raised it to take the picture, my finger slipped, and the camera growled—too late.
“James…!” I lunged for him.
“Z, no.” That rare commanding tone forced me to stop. I had to listen.
He smiled as the tri-legged goat passed through his legs. Our eyes locked. So many words, too few—none made it out. Below a ballet of the universe, universal weeping of the maternal earth below; a heart-crushing gaze was all we had.
Then, a blinding light engulfed him. An agonized scream pulled from his throat. His soul flew heavenward in a spire of holy catastrophe.
Chapter 44
This is 虚無感nothingness. Spinning Earth above, waves crashing ahead, sun burning somewhere tomorrow – everything moved as it always did. Except, one less life moved below. James…
I could have died there. Begone, guilt frenzy! He was gone because of me—my fault. Agent Judin warned me, but it fell on deaf ears. I’m a child with adult skin; a baby paying bills. Do we ever grow up?
Omni-maternal punishment had me forget (forsake) myself. I stared at the black aftermath on the concrete ahead where, minutes before, James died with a smile; raw, from savage devastation. Body a slack vessel, clinging to that last kiss. No sadness was there. Just subzero numbness arresting any emotion in suppressive frost. James, I’m sorry.
Darkness beyond the blackest dog jaws clenched and ripped out a stable part of me. Foundation faulted down a slow tumble to a slamming impact that came out as a single sigh. Once that wisp of air
curled up to wherever he’d gone, a throbbing squeeze dominated with oppressive control. A threat of fight from that feral ache. I had it. Upon realizing its insignificance, I let it go, just like I had with him.
James.
Life’s weighted struggle had me too weary for tears. Kill me now.
From behind, Yumi’s drowned voice pierced through my colorless cocoon.
“Z! Help!”
I snapped back to reality.
Kata-ashi Pinza rushed at a defenseless Yumi; hot horns fixed forward. Her legs peeled apart, wide enough to pass through.
I wouldn’t allow it. No, not her too. With pale trembling hands I raised the ghost smartphone once more. The hell goat mere inches from her position. I snapped the picture. This time I anticipated its trailing growl.
It froze solid as if paused on a screen. I’d never seen anything like it.
Agent Judin stepped in front of me. “Zena, make way!”
He fired his strange weapon. A beam of electric blue streaked out, with a thunderstruck boom—an F-22 burning into the sky. When it hit, the light shattered the creature into a million pieces. The goat dissolved where it hung in space.
“Now, the gate crest.” Agent Judin swept me behind him, aimed at the alien orb, then fired. The boom shot rattled my ribs and ears as the loud laser pierced the ball’s bullseye.
That same sucking sensation collapsed the air around me when it imploded. This time, as wispy streak of light cometed up, then down to my kama. After it absorbed the energy, it was brighter than before. But I didn’t know why. A pondering for later when I cared more.
The warm night returned; sticky sea breeze wrapped my arms while it whipped by. The second gate—love’s lament—closed at last.
I exhaled long, but the next breath stung as a memory of James appeared. When I saw it, a belligerent brimming roiled in my blood. Destructive heat, throwing ashy smoke, rose higher and higher. Do you feel it haunt you? I did. I wanted it all – the rage, unhinged vengeance, nuclear confrontation in all its forms. Burn it all down. Grab and grind all the stars to shards, hurl the beacons of brightness like diamonds into the eyes of my enemies. Coiling rage, compressed to attack, was as real as the ground beneath my feet. Closer, closer I felt it coming. Part of me shirked back. The other wore a wrathful smile.
Could you do it? There was a voice, icy resonance. It was right beside me. You.
“Zena!” Yumi cried. She pointed where the gate had been.
I refocused in time to see a black portal spiral open. I sniffed dead fish, long decayed, imprinted on hard sand. Eggplant purple tendrils spun at the edges of a vertical cyclone. Sufficiently large, a lone figure stepped out.
Flaming red hair trailing embers, skin color of night, ten feet tall draped in a tattered old robe, he loomed just as he had at Marek Park—a flesh formed nightmare.
He looked down at me, eyes twin voids that seemed to draw the dark around them; a knowing smile cut through airflow.
うふざとう。
Chapter 45
Ufuzatou’s ragged ローブ robe fluttered in the night breeze. He sniffed the air as he studied his environment. After a few seconds, his eyes fell on me.
With swift movement, I summoned my salt-studded kama. For a second, we evaluated each other. Fire on his head matched the one blazing through my veins.
Yumi’s shoes scratched the stoned walkway beside me. Agent Judin completed our trinity with his modified pistol.
“Zena Marlowe, ね?”
“Ya think I’ll say anything to you after what your three-limbed pet just did to my husband!? You must be fuckin’ crazy!”
Ufuzatou wore a devil-may-care face. “What happened to him was… sudden. But he’s better for it.”
Screaming, I leapt into the air then dive-slashed at him. The wind split as I approached like a bladed missile. A microsecond later, Agent Judin fired his beam.
サンチン。
He didn’t move. But he swished his feet over the concrete – left, then right. Palms up, elbows at rigid angles, back fixed, his body shone like steel while his flaming hair blazed hotter. I wasn’t prepared for the impact. The kama hit but cut nothing, warping like a butter knife against a brick wall. My head flared with a skin-shredding shake, as if I’d accidentally chewed a piece of aluminum foil.
Judin’s laser deflected off him into the dark water, exploding into the sea with a giant splash.
Ufuzatou, with an unamused face, blinked away in a puff of dark smoke.
When he reappeared next to Agent Judin, I was too late. Yumi gasped.
“No!”
体落。
Ufuzatou grappled Judin’s collar then, with a hard rotation, hurled him to the ground with a judo slam. Weaponless, crushed by a single maneuver, he lay lifeless-like. A trickle of blood ran from under his head. I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.
“Zena, look out!” Yumi cried.
I swiped sideways. But the strike was too early. A cold palm on my back, large fingers clamped my wrist. Then he circled me around with feather force under the moonlight. Somehow, I fell in-step with him. One, two, three. One, two, three – an unheard waltz played - my first demon dance.
The skin around my wrist tingled stabbing sensations. My weapon hand grew limp. It fell to the ground with a dead clatter, as he shoved me away into Yumi. She caught me with icy hands.
Ufuzatou reappeared in front of the forever flame.
“I’m only here to talk,” he said.
Disarmed with no means to defend or attack, I had no choice but to listen.
“What do you want? Why don’t ya just suck out my soul and leave?”
He crossed his arms. “You must come willingly.”
My body shook. “Was that pilot willing!? Was… James?”
“Yes. All souls we gather are.” James’s final smile came back. I won’t believe it.
I straightened myself up, determined to maintain what little remaining strength I had. Yumi’s hand gripped my shoulder tight enough to draw blood.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Your world is twisted. I have seen it. Your people are bloated with useless knowledge and fried chicken. Many walk as waking dead. They drag through the day and numb themselves at night. They repeat the endless cycle until death.”
My face softened. So did Yumi’s grip on my shoulder.
“But it doesn’t matter. I will fix what you humans cannot.”
“How?” I asked.
“The age of the Ancient Ones will return. Your world as it is will be eternally altered to accommodate us. Then you will know peace previously unimaginable. But… I need your help to do it, Zena Marlowe.”
“Why me?”
“Have you not seen the change in yourself? The ability to comprehend our language, your dreams, sudden coughing fits, your rapid acquisition of fighting proficiency – all are signs of your spiritual aptitude. Indications that within you, an awakening has already begun.”
Spiritual aptitude?
My arms tensed. “How do you… know about all that?”
“Your writings reveal your soul. I’ve studied them well.”
I retreated a step. My… soul. The Japanese, coughs, nightmares… I wanted to understand further. But I was afraid of the answers I might receive. I was barely holding on as I was. I couldn’t take much more. Not tonight.
He pointed, “You are link between our worlds. The one chosen by this island. Though I can’t fathom why she put such faith in a faithless woman.” He viewed me with disgust.
The link... between worlds. Thoughts flew by like leaves in a storm, stopping a single one was impossible.
I swallowed dryness. “Why would I help you!?”
Ufuzatou vanished. A second later, he was within whisper distance. Frigid air flowed from his form, as if his body were an ice box leaking mist.
“Would you like to see James again?”
I inhaled sharply. The visible vapor from my mouth on an early summer night gave my glutes another reason to clench.
“He’s alive?” The words escaped. My heart wrung like a soaked dishrag, dripping with a hope I knew I couldn’t trust. But the image of James, trapped somewhere between here and another world, clawed its way through my mind. A cleaved ditch dug in its wake. If he was lying, I’d have nothing. But if he wasn’t...
James.
The demon king blipped back to his place before the flame.
“Yes and no. Agree to help me and I’ll tell you.”
“And if I don’t?”
Two smaller dark portals swirled open from nowhere. The two who stepped out made my blood return to pre-eruption levels.
“You!” I said.
Draped in hooded robes, Principal Kane and Dr. Déborah Araújo returned guarded expressions.
“Tell her,” Ufuzatou commanded.
Principal Kane took a clumsy step forward. “If you don’t comply, Okinawa will be pulled into the Ancient Lands of legends.”
“Ancient Lands?”
“I-It’s their world,” he stammered. “You should have backed off when I tried to warn you, because—”
Déborah cut him off with a short stride ahead. Her mini pumps clicked the cement.
“With your exposure to the experiments at the high school, you have the power to save us from ourselves. You’ll guide millions, no, billions to the light of a hopeful future. Isn’t that why you became a teacher?”
My exposure?
“What the hell did you do?”
“Phantovine,” she said proudly, “just a little bit of the compound I engineered, mixed with a few other ingredients strengthens the spirit. ‘Sight’ becomes enhanced. Your natural abilities connect with the power of the ‘mother’.”
“Natural abilities…” I murmured. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed was something I didn’t want to see. A disturbing image of warped humanity.
Mother. Okinawa. Mama. Me. I rejected the connection. But couldn’t deny it was there.
I glared at her while biting my tongue. There were few words to waste on her.
Débora continued. “Oh minha querida, because of your exposure, you’re already… changing, or, transforming, might be a better word for it. Haven’t you noticed? Don’t you feel different? Younger?... Superior?”
I eyed my hands. They appeared normal at first glance. Then they flashed black, the knuckles rounded rough, nails poked up, skin like dried volcanic sand. Was this the cost of fighting them, or something I had always carried, unknown, part of my code? My breath quickened.
“No… it can’t be.”
Ufuzatou eyed me with a touch of sadness. “That gadget you possess, the “Soul Gauge”, will show you the truth.”
But that was a glitch… wasn’t it? Am I really losing my soul? Am I becoming a demon? At that moment, I was more afraid of that number than the demon lord and his two followers in front of me.
“If I did help… what would I have to do?” My voice reflected my true condition: extreme exhaustion.
“Close the gates,” Ufuzatou said.
My forehead furrowed in confusion. “Close them? But why?”
“Two worlds cannot coexist. One will eclipse the other. No one else can do it 橋様.”
橋様? Deliverer? I’d heard them both before, not as spoken words, only a fragment of a memory floated by.
“But… but I didn’t close the first gate! Rika did!”
“So imbued by the strength of your spirit. All your allies are. Without you, they are nothing.”
A tense wind swirled a ribbon of suspense around the mystery.
Ufuzatou pulled out a cracked smartphone. “What’s your email address?” His enormous finger hovered over the screen.
At the request, Débora smiled mocking malice. Principal Kane averted his eyes like the coward he was.
I hesitated. Then there was a nudge in my lower back. Yumi signaled with a tight-faced head nod toward our midnight-faced foe.
“It’s… zena dot marlowe_89 @mail dot com.”
He punched in the address while repeating it aloud, “z-e-n-a, dot, m-a-r-l-o-w-e…underscore, eight five…”
“Eight nine or eighty-nine.”
“はい、はい eight-nine… mail. できた.”
A buzz in my pocket made me flinch. I pulled out my phone, while my eyes remained locked on his. With a shaking thumb I accessed my inbox. The one from him had no subject line, but flashed as if glitched like an old Nintendo game. I opened it. A list of five sets of numbers populated the message body.
“Are these… coordinates?”
He returned his phone to his robe. “To the other gates, yes. Go there and close them. But don’t delay. Come the zenith of this season, the Spirit Conclave will commence. An important event in the Ancient Lands. Other, not so patient members of my kind, will attend. If the gates are not sealed by the time of what you refer to as the summer solstice, I’ll be forced to find an alternate solution and have no more need for you. Do you understand?”
Spirit Conclave?
“And what — what happens if I fail?”
“Okinawa will be consumed by our world,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “The sea will reclaim the land. Your kin will have no rest or shelter. You alone hold back that tide, 橋様. Now do you understand?”
Two worlds cannot coexist. One will eclipse the other. His words were odious.
I gulped. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” He turned away then stopped.
“There is one last thing…”
He blipped in front of me and tilted my chin up. Without hesitation, his lips found mine. A sickening rush flooded in - icy hot - trailing down my spine as if my blood became glacial magma. In a betrayal of instinct, I sank into his hold, breathing in his frigid breath like an addict’s first inhale. When he flashed back to a friendly distance, I tasted ashes; that frostbitten fire awakened a cavern of desire, irresistible to penetrate. Deep inside the damp passage, a treasure touched the hungry harlot, shivering starving of love in some isolated cove; she groaned ecstatic. I closed my eyes, ran a finger along my bottom lip. A lick of his flame lingered, singed by frosty embers; a blizzard breeze exhale secured his secret soul invasion. However, I was in heat trouble. In seconds, a realization dawned dread; part of me didn’t resist, it welcomed him as though he were an old vice, rapacious corruption, anticipated relapse, embedded delinquency, undeniable pleasure.
“Now, 橋様 you will enjoy the power and pain of the ancients to complete your task. Zena Marlowe, 頑張ってください.”
The words hung, woven into the night air, as if I’d been marked. Behind him, the eternal flame dimmed.
With that, he and his acolytes fade-flashed away.
The flame of peace behind them waved once more—then shrunk to a feeble glow. Low, left with the promise of power, and the curse to follow.
Chapter 46
Victor 待っていた waited in the dark at the top of a ridge in Kakazu Park. Taps, cracks, and creaks, mixed with the low din of vehicle traffic on highway 58 beyond the blocks of central Okinawa, which contributed to the secluded area’s loudness. Every sound made him twitch with a jolt of surprise.
There was another damned spirit frequenting this area. The cave at the bottom of the steep hill was his domain. He was an old Japanese soldier, who hated visitors and would haunt anyone who got too close. Sometimes it was said he ventured to the top of the park to pay tribute to his fallen comrades. The thought had Victor’s feet sweating.
A snap then a low vibration made him spin. The uncoordinated act nearly caused him to lose his balance. Just as he caught himself, he noticed what tripped him—a dark tablet, worn, but marked with Japanese characters. He reached down to touch it. The stone was cold, uncomfortably so, even on the humid warm evening. Squinting vision, he tried to
read the script, but it seemed to blur, a fading half-formed memory ghosting into rock.
He regained his composure shortly before Débora extended a smooth leg through a whirling demi-gate and stepped through. After the circular door swirled to nothing, she readjusted her open chested red summer dress as she strode over.
“Been waiting long?”
“Long enough to want to leave.”
“Oh, don’t whine. Look at this gorgeous nightscape!” She spread her arms and twirled. Victor spied a snatch of her hard thighs as she revolved. His mind began to wander up her legs, but in a second, the image went black like a busted old television screen. A sharp force brought the twinkling lights of Ginowan City into incredible high definition. Increased focus. He groaned. Another “perk” of life as a demi-demon.
Débora’s face fixed in his view. “Yes. It is nice. But you look even nicer,” he said.
She batted her eyes as she arched her back to stand erect. The movement animated her exposed bosom with a visible jiggle. “Oh, do I?”
He nodded vigorously.
She raised her arm and beckoned him with a single curl of her finger. He took quick steps and joined her.
“You’re a handsome devil now, too.” She stroked his jaw with a smooth fingertip. “I like you better like this. Que gostoso…”
Victor cleared his throat. “You do?”
“Oh, yes. Very much so.” She traced down tickling and tangling his chest hair. He was glad to have left the final two buttons of his ocean-hued Kariyushi shirt unfastened. She inched closer. So close he could make out a mole on her cheek.
With summoned smoothness, he gripped her arms delicately and tugged her in. To his surprise, she didn’t resist.
“Débora?”
“Yes?”
“What are we doing here?”
“I’m not sure. What do you want to do, Victor?”
“I… want to know why we’re waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For him.”
“Because he told us to.”
Victor released his hands and backed away, as he turned his back on her. “Dammit! It’s always him.” Victor mumbled as he straightened his slacks. There was less room in them than minutes before.
“Oh, what happened? You were doing so well.” Débora said, placing a soft hand on his back.
“It’s always him. Débora, he’s a demon!”
“I know.”
“I mean, why do we have to do this? Why can’t we just… y’know…?”
“What?”
He rushed over and picked up her hands. “Y’know, just be together? No demon kings. No Ancient Lands. Just us.”
“Victor, you know it doesn’t work like that.” She threw his hands down. “Don’t you like the new you? Or the new me?” With lulled speed she took his hands again and placed them on her hips one, at, a time. First left, then right. His hands sizzled desire.
“Uh yes, I do. The extra length is pretty amazing, too.”
She gasped with an astonished face. “Oh, Victor Kane!”
“Wha-? No! No! I meant my hair length. I feel like a teenage boy again.”
“Uh huh, in more ways than one.” She reached for his crotch.
“Débora! We’re in public!” He said covering his genitals while whipping his head around. Even airliners had satellite sight to see their late-night flirtation. Not here!
She chewed her lip in tantalizing fashion. “You heard what he said. If we help him restore the Ancient Lands, we not only get all our earthly desires, but we will also be granted any title we desire in the new kingdom.”
Victor grumbled. “Yeah, yeah I know but…”
She approached then rotated him toward the dark sea. Her breasts squeezed against his back as she wrapped her arms around him. “You see that large black strip there?”
“Of course. That’s Marine Corps Air Station Futenma.”
“Yes, it is. And why is it there?”
“Because of the war.”
“And why was there a war?”
“Because humans fight for… everything.”
“Right. Now imagine a place where there was no reason for war. Infinite resources, change into whatever form you want, live free, forever. Doesn’t that sound like—”
“Heaven…”
“Oh, I knew you’d get it. Muito inteligente.”
“But I don’t know, Débora.”
“Don’t know what? Hmm?”
“If we can trust what he says.”
“I do.”
“Y-you do? How?”
“He showed me.”
Victor spun around and retreated a step. He came close to tripping over the same low stone lantern.
“What? When?”
“After we…”
She trailed off, her gaze floated somewhere on the moon-mirror sea. Unreadable, best described her face. A lie, or a memory too dangerous to share? Victor couldn’t decide. But even as he watched her, a chill seeped deeper. A physical reminder they’d crossed a line with no return long ago.
“Débora… what—”
A crack accompanied by a low sustained bass sound rumbled through the air. The gate rotated open like a vinyl record—glossy, unscratched. Shrubs swayed; bats barked in the trees when Ufuzatou took two earth-shaking stomps onto the ridge. His skin, a shade of charred meat, radiated a iceberg cold, chilling the atmosphere as he moved. Victor shrunk at the sight of him. His winter glare fixed on Débora.
“You’re here. Report.”
She took confident steps toward him. When she was close enough, she lifted a finger and feathered his arm. Victor noticed her hand spasm upon contact with the intense cold.
“Everything is as you’ve set in motion. Zena and the others are going to the gates. They’re making plans now. It won’t be long before you’re back at full strength.”
“Perfect. And my other enemies?”
“Still gathering souls and strength. But soon they will be strong enough to challenge you.”
“いい let them come. The few dissenters won’t be enough to prevent the world merge.”
Ufuzatou walked away from her and faced the night sky opposite the military base. Victor breathed shallowly, unsure if his soul was safe tonight.
“Beyond that highway is Hacksaw Ridge. Do you know it?”
Victor said with stumbling words, “Y-yes. It was an important strategic victory for the Americans during World War II against Imperial Japanese forces.”
“Correct. As many as two hundred thousand men—American and Japanese—perished there. Now a new war is coming to this island.”
“I-it is?”
The demon king faced them. “This time the casualties will not be rival nations. It will be beings from different realities. 準備しなくちゃのに。You must prepare. あっちに見てください。Look there.”
A bright light sparked like a lit firework in the long darkness. At the sight of it, Victor startled as if a hot glowing Ryukyu glass shaping rod, fresh from the forge, burned his flesh. Débora’s face brightened with breathless wonder.
From the flash, a giant white disk spread then circled over the castle ruins in the distance. Golden beams of light illuminated the sleeping rubble until shaped boulders, the size of mini car Toyota iQs, began to rain from the sky. Victor shielded his eyes, watching as mammoth stones drifted down, guided by titanic forces that defied the weight of centuries. One by one, stone by stone, the bulky bricks floated to the castle foundation, snapping together with crushed bone acoustics. Through astral adhesive, they cemented themselves in place, raising the walls. Lights on the roads froze, as the occupants probably documented the strange phenomenon. The sound of solid objects of incredible density colliding in rapid succession reverberated like a thundering avalanche along the length of the island. As the last stone locked into place, a silence blanketed as though the isolated land mass held its breath. The porcelain white portal vanished. In place of the ruins stood a completely restored Nakagusuku Castle 中城城. Its imposing ramparts were barely visible in the night.
Victor was speechless.
Débora’s chest rose and fell fast.
Ufuzatou said, “With this act, the first shot has been fired. Blood will follow.”
Chapter 47
Rain 雨 pelted down with abnormal enthusiasm. Each drop struck Lily’s umbrella like a fist. Despite her hurried pace, it was as if the downpour had a purpose: to slow her, to seep through every layer, fuse skin to bone with liquid adhesion. She regripped a full paper coffee tray, but her fingers—numb from cold and tension—slipped over the soggy cardboard. Balancing the drinks with one hand and an umbrella in the other was difficult work.
Lily’s feet sloshed on the slick pavement as she powerwalked from the cab. How long will it rain like this? Ugh.
Sheets of water cascaded from the sky transforming the sidewalk into a giant car wash. Even with her torso shielded from the deluge, water flooded her shoes and pants. Wild weather. This has to be because of the gates.
Winded and very wet, she ascended the stairs then yanked open the door to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) Building. She wasn’t
sure why they were meeting here at Camp Foster instead of on the much more convenient Kadena, but the vibe did seem friendlier with the Navy (for some reason).
A tan-skinned man in an island shirt looked up from the reception area. With a non-smiling nod, he directed her toward the conference room. Everyone else was already there.
“You’re back. What took you so long?” Jordan asked.
“Uh, pretty sure we’re in an unofficial typhoon right now. It’s fucking raining non-stop out there.” Lily said as she began to distribute an assortment of hot and cold drinks around the room.
“Thanks Lily!” Cyan said with zeal. She extended a hot, white-colored cup to Ethan. “Did you see Miss Marlowe? It’s been a while since she went off with Tengo, Rika, and that other guy… Jude, right?”
“Pretty sure it’s Judin,” Lily corrected.
“Yeah him. His head looked pretty bad… I wonder what happened to them last night?”
Lily shrugged. The adults hadn’t shared details, but recalling their fight at the first gate, she imagined it hadn’t been easy. The possibilities made her shudder.
With the drinks taken care of, she made her way over to Jordan and sat beside him. “So, how’s your arm?”
“It’s cool.” He started to move it, then winced.
“Okay, tough guy.” Lily looked toward the wall, with no idea how to continue the conversation.
“Thanks for sending that meme over the other night when I was laid up. It was funny.”
“Cool.” Another awkward beat passed as the others chatted among themselves. “Uh… Jordan—”
“I was a dick the other day.”
She snorted. “Yeah, you were.”
“That’s my bad. It was the heat of battle after all. So, y’know.”
Lily reached, then pinched his good arm.
“Uh ow! Gonna kick a man while he’s down?” He said jokingly.
“Heat of battle my ass. Nothing’d even started yet.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Lily leaned toward him. “Apology accepted. To be real, I wasn’t my best self either. Y’know… stress n’ all.”
Jordan nodded. “Let’s not be dicks.”
Lily chuckled. “Deal.”
Miss Marlowe entered, her posture rigid, eyes fixed on a spot far beyond the room. Behind her Agent Judin, Tengo, and finally Rika followed. They all found seats around the conference room table, but they didn’t sit.
Something’s different about Miss Marlowe, Lily thought. Externally she looked more or less the same. But there were differences. Her complexion wasn’t as bright. Her once shiny gaze was a murky polluted body. Visible circles ringed below her eyes. The stress of their demon-chasing extracurricular activities seemed to have taken its toll on her, too. Lily’s pulse and vibemeter surged in parallel. But it was something besides that. Lily could tell she’d lost something precious. When she looked at Lily, it wasn’t as focused as before. Lily became glass, something to see through or catch a faint reflection in, not one of her students. Lily tensed as her teacher began to speak.
“Alright everyone, by now you’ve all seen the news. Old ruins are comin’ back to life all around the island. It’s because of the gates. We gotta shut em’ down. We’ll go over a few things with you now. So listen carefully.”
Ethan raised his hand.
“Yes, Ethan?”
“So do we gotta go in these demon fortresses and like, destroy em’?”
“No, we’ll go for the gates. Cut em’ off at the source.”
Cyan waved her hand in the air.
“Go ahead Cyan.”
“But I heard there’s all kinds of creepy things happening around the castles. So, one of my friends, who I met through a karate class I did last summer, told me someone had their window smashed by a rock out of nowhere after they accidentally tripped over an old grave marker!”
“For real?” Jordan asked.
Cyan nodded. “It’s so scary!”
Miss Marlowe raised her hand for quiet. Lily scrutinized every movement.
“I’ve heard the rumors on Facebook. There’s lots of sightings. Some’re goofy. Others are scary. I’ll give ya that.” Her face darkened.
Lily shifted away nerves in her seat.
“Be that as it may, the gates’re still our target. Now I’ve spoken with each of your parents or guardians.”
The students groaned.
“Hey! Hey! This is potentially dangerous stuff we’re dealin’ with. The first gate compared to the second was...” her voice fell along with her eyes. Lily noticed her jaw tense as if she were chewing something very bitter and hard. “It’s just… things might get more risky from here.” Lily noticed her teacher swallow. “I may not officially be your teacher anymore—”
“Totally unfair by the way,” Ethan said.
“Yeah, super wrong move,” Cyan echoed.
Miss Marlowe stood a little taller, “I appreciate it guys, but I had to loop them in. Don’t worry, since the Wing Commander recognized your special status, with our abilities to use special weapons n’ all, they agreed to let you participate.”
A collective sigh sounded around the room.
“But! Given the significant risk of what we’re doin’ here, you’ll have to be escorted by an adult at all times.”
The students released more audible complaints. Lily noticed Miss Marlowe’s eye twitch in response to the noise.
Ethan said, “Aw c’mon! Seriously? We’re not little kids. I think we can handle a couple of demons. Just swing, throw some salt and you’re good, right?”
Tengo’s eyebrows narrowed. “This isn’t some video game, Ethan. These are dangerous forces. Once they start draining you, you’re… you’re just nothing.”
Lily tried to image what it must have been like for Tengo. Strapped to a stake, two—no, three—hungry beings from another world clamoring for that spark of vitality inside you. Drained, seemed like the perfect word to describe it. Waning words as that ball of light rose from the seat of the soul (wherever it was) like Ariel’s voice from the Little Mermaid, as a creature wore a sinister smile—famished, palms open in benedictory malediction, accepting offering of human source—drunk from the prize in their cupped hands. Vicious vibes constricted Lily’s heart. It beat like a captive trapped in a room desperate for sun. Can’t really be like that, can it? Hiding truth, to bind faith in the familiar; humanity’s greatest defense against the horrors of the world. It was the only way to live.
Rika placed a hand on Tengo’s shoulder, as Ethan’s face turned sullen.
Agent Judin stood. His speech was somewhat slurred and he looked even more out of it than their former teacher. “We have seven days until the summer solstice. One week to seal five gates. Doesn’t leave much room for error. Worse, the gates are only accessible at certain times of day. According to a Space Force Spirit Survey, they’re blocked by some mysterious energy at the other times. We’ll have to time each operation carefully to close them all in time.”
“Damn,” Jordan muttered. Lily patted his arm.
Rika stepped forward. Her robe flowed under the air conditioner vent. “And there’s the matter of your 武器 weapons. 前に Before, I could only enchant them with the ability to defeat Class D demons and below. I have a strong feeling the one’s we’ll meet soon will be much stronger. Closing the gates seems to strengthen the remaining forces.”
“That’s bad…” Cyan said with sadness.
“It is, but I can forge them with the ability to absorb demon cores.”
“Demon core? Is that a band?” Jordan asked. Everyone cast a menacing glare at him. “What? Just tryin’ to lighten the mood. Sheesh.”
Lily snickered.
“A demon core, is a fragment of the spirit’s energy エネルギー. By absorbing that power, we’ll have a greater chance of defeating them with stronger weapons.”
Ethan pumped a fist, “Sounds awesome!”
“Is everybody ready?”
Lily had that same feeling of dreadful excitement. “You’re gonna do it now?”
Rika nodded wearing a serious expression.
“Go ahead Rika,” Miss Marlowe said.
Rika shut her eyes, hands out as if pushing an object that wasn’t there. In a slice of light, her bo staff appeared, floating in midair. Beats of amethyst-toned light illuminated the weapon, faster, brighter for uncountable seconds, until a final flash spread across the room. Anticipating the spectacle, Lily held her breath as the energy crackled over her skin, tingling in an almost painful way, until it stopped abruptly, leaving her colder than before.
The event concluded, Rika’s staff disappeared while everyone looked all over the place: hands, walls – for some evidence of the change. There was none.
“Skibidi damn. That was intense,” Jordan said.
“For real…” Lily responded.
“Is everyone alright?” Rika asked with maternal concern.
“I feel like I could bench press Cyan, then go run three miles,” Ethan said.
Cyan giggled. “That’s too easy. You gettin’ lazy or what?”
“Okay, we’ll throw in a max squat after the run. How bout that?”
Cyan crossed her arms. “Hmm, I guess that would do it, since you’re soo strong.”
Ethan’s eyes lit up. “You really think so?”
She considered his expectant tilt. “Yeah.” Their gazes became magnets. Normally they repelled, but Lily noticed the flip of the poles - pulling bodies on course for soft impact. Opposites attract. A millisecond later, the tug ceased. Ethan continued to look at Cyan from the corner of his eye. Cyan was visibly flushed; her hand crunched the cushion of her seat. A whole of loneliness spun open in Lily’s chest. Why are my hands so cold? She rubbed them on her pants to bleed the bad thoughts off and close the parts of her belief in that kind of connection off. Sadness, true happiness, or any essence of -ess were locked out. Alone. That’s me. Always will be – probably.
At the front of the room Miss Marlowe said, “Okay, now with our weapons powered up, we’ll be breakin’ up into teams to take down as many gates at a time as we can.” She cast a look over toward Agent Judin. “Agent Judin, you ready with the team assignments?”
The pudgy agent appeared reluctant. Lily sensed they hadn’t reached agreement on something big prior to this meeting. Adult Drama. Here we go.
Miss Marlowe winced and brought her hand to her side. “What’s tha matter?”
Agent Judin said, “Well, as far as the team is concerned, I’ve made some… adjustments.”
A soft knock at the door made Lily jerk her neck behind her.
“Enter,” Judin called.
Uehara Sensei (Yumi-san), walked in with another Asian lady with hard eyes, and ripped arms; an unnatural hump under her vest reminded Lily who she was. Standing next to her was a taller (quite good-looking) agent wearing a relaxed face. His slicked back wet sand-colored hair drew Lily’s roaming attention. She imagined running her hand through it. That would be nice.
Miss Marlowe’s face flared. “What’s she doin’, here?” She cast a cursed eye at Agent Judin.
“Zena, you must understand, the Department of Otherworldly Affairs is a new entity. We have very few agents in the field and—”
“I get it,” Miss Marlowe said. Her neck was tense, face long – it looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
Uehara Sensei (Yumi-san) weaved through the now full conference room and whispered something to Miss Marlowe. After that, she calmed down a little.
Agent Judin spoke. “Everyone, this is Agents Freya Chen and Nigel Tamm from the Air Force Office of Special Investigations. They’ll be assisting us in this joint investigation, slash operation.”
Agent Chen gave a brief salutary acknowledgment. Agent Tamm smiled and waved a hand. This just got a lot more interesting.
Agent Judin took the floor. “At this point, our objectives are clear. One: seal the remaining five gates distributed around Okinawa by destroying their gate cores. Two: apprehend the interdimensional fugitives, Victor Kane and Débora Araújo. Three: gather any and all information about the gates, Ancient Lands or their emissaries. Four: neutralize or extradite all demons that have trespassed in Okinawa.”
Cyan whispered, “What does extradite mean?”
Ethan laughed quietly, “Sounds like a Pokemon.”
Lily suppressed a snicker, “It means to legally send someone back to another country… wait—can you even do that with a being from another world?”
Jordan interrupted her thought. “What happens if we can’t close the gates in time?”
The adults exchanged disturbed glances. Everything they knew, but wanted to spare them, passed in flicks of the lip, eye twitches, and other extraneous ticks. Lily didn’t need to hear the answer. Game over.
Agent Judin took a full breath then said, “It means the end of life on this island as we know it.”
She saw her classmates accept the unescapable truth as she’d come to understand it minutes before.
“But, that won’t happen,” he continued, “we will succeed. I know it. I feel it. You have to believe it as well.”
Manifesting? Here we go again with that jazz. Lily thought of her other friends who were into collecting crystals and divining future events by staring at astrological wheels. It was all too hocus-pocusy for her taste. But could there be something deeper to it? Could I really think things into truth? Trick your brain to treat falsy as truthy? A secret glance at Jordan made her sigh again.
She contemplated the answers as Agent Judin discussed the team assignments and where they’d be headed.
A current of excitement flowed in her veins when her team was announced. The gate’s location was another shock. She’d never been that far before. What’s it like there? Will closing that one be as dangerous as the first time? How’s he gonna take it? She slowly turned toward Jordan. He was looking at her with a weird smile.
Then shuffling among the chairs diverted her attention. At the front of the room, Miss Marlowe was no longer there.
Chapter 48
The bathroom was 空っぽ empty. Thank God. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. Grasping hands tight on the sink made my forearms shake. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Was that me? Pale sallow skin, eyes glassy pools of swimming stress, hair an ungroomed horse’s tail – I wanted to break the image.
James, Ufuzatou, Yumi, everyone in that conference room, the gates... it was all too much. A strange new sensation crept over me. It started as a tingle, subdermal, like a thousand tiny ants marching through my veins. The feeling grew, morphing into a current of terrifyingly thrilling energy. Was this my demon powers manifesting?
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. A message from
Agent Judin: TRANSPORTATION PROCURED TO THE THIRD AND FOURTH GATES.
WHERE ARE YOU?
I lifted my thumb to type a response, but five new emails pinged in to block my view. The first few words of the messages met my vision:
“She should be booted…”
“How could those teachers…”
“I’m disgusted. You’re a disgrace…”
“Don’t let me catch her on base…”
“Come near my kid, I’ll kill you…”
I didn’t need to read the entire message. Death threats were new for me. I still had to work to calm myself down when I read the rancor in those words.
I couldn’t hide in here forever. Out of nowhere, I thought of Papa. (A rare occurrence these days.) Memories of him were sparse; scattered like Okinawa’s dozens of smaller islands across a swallowing depth of wavy mystery. I missed him – I did. We were never TikTok dance close, but he always encouraged me to do my best, and to above all, believe. In things big, small, in myself and the goodness in others. Belief in the Book – the one he always seemed to carry as if it were a physical appendage – was what I remembered most.
Did you pray? He would say whenever life got hard or difficult. When I saw him standing at the door, I knew it would be the last time. I didn’t pray or cry. He was going away for a long time. That was easy to see by all he carried. Of course, that tattered Book was in his hands. Where else would it be? Innocence went out the window when he left – destiny unknown. If he was alive out there it would be the equivalent of discovering an alien species on Venus – interesting, but not heart moving. I killed him in my mind long ago. The casket sunk into the black expanse of water, collapsed by eternal night and spiritless species of the deep. Why was I thinking of him now?
I looked up at the mirror, my heart jumped at my reflection. My face was completely normal, but a macabre smile showed up in the glass. Satisfaction satiated at the perfect crime as I stared. No.
I whipped my head away then fled the bathroom.
In my haste, I almost ran into Lily.
“Ah Lily, I didn’t see ya there. Sorry about that.”
“All good. Uh.. are you okay, Miss Marlowe?” Her voice was soft. She viewed me with worry.
I forced a tired smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just exhausted. But we all are, aren’t we?” Even to my own ears, the words were thin.
Lily nodded, but there was something in her expression that made me pause. It was as if she could see right through me, could sense the change that was happening within. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.
“You know,” she said, “if there’s anything you need to talk about... we’re all here… including me…”
I gently placed a hand on her arm, a hollow motion of reassurance. “I ‘ppreciate it, Lily. But you should get back to the conference room. We still got a lot to go over before we head out.” I brushed past her, without looking back. But I could still feel her watching as I walked away.
***
Hours later, rain pounded against my head as I ran on base. My lungs burned with each labored breath, and my legs ached from the exertion. But I pushed myself harder, desperate to outrun the thoughts that chased me.
With each pounding step, the odd demon sensation grew stronger. Pulsing through my veins, a second heartbeat, threatening to overtake my own. I tried to ignore it, to focus on the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement, but it was impossible to shut out.
I passed Chili’s. A young couple dashed from their car to the entrance. James. A yearning ache tugged at my heart. With it, a new unwelcome awareness crept over me. Eyes. Somewhere, watching, following.
Hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I glanced over my shoulder, but the streets were deserted. No normal person would be out in this. Still…
More running, running. Before I knew it, I was at the Kadena USO. My chest heaved as I caught my breath. Dripping a puddle of rain-sweat, I sent a small wave at the red-shirted volunteer manning the front desk. He was an older man with wide ears who frowned at the mess he’d have to clean up.
The place was nearly empty, but the feeling of being watched persisted - an itch I couldn’t scratch. I spied the free books section. Then, I saw it. Among the neatly arranged second-hand selection, an old Bible caught my eye. Without a thought or regard for the old man with the mop behind me, I drifted over. In my hands, the worn leather cover was strangely comforting.
Suddenly, a memory flooded back, hitting me like a punch to the gut.
I was back in that tiny room. Low light. Family a dying flame in the wind.
“I saw somethin’, Mama,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “A dark shadow, right there in the corner.” I pointed with a shaking finger.
Igrid said, “You didn't see nuthin’! That’s devil talk!” Her words cut knife heavy.
“I did so see it!" I argued. "It was real, I swear!” My voice cracked with desperation.
Ezra cowered behind. Frozen wide eyes jutted out. “Is it gonna get us?” He whimpered, clutching at her shirt.
Ezra? Who’s that?
“Ain’t no ‘it’,” Igrid said firmly. Her voice shook a little. “Zena’s just seein’ things cause she’s scared.” She wrapped a protective arm around Ezra’s shoulders.
I have… a brother?
The door to the hallway opened letting temporary light in. Dad trudged in. “Quiet down. Your mother wants to say something.” His tone was gruff, absolute.
Mama’s voice was weak. “Keep your faith, Zena. Guard your soul. Don’t let the Devil win.”
“I won’t, Mama,” I promised, squeezing her hand tighter. “I’ll be strong, like you always taught me.” I blinked the blur in my eyes away.
“That goes for all of you,” Mama said, her gaze fell on each of us. “Stay together, and... trust in the Lord. He’ll guide you through the darkness.”
***
A breathy little girl’s laugh jolted me out of the river of reminiscence. Back at the USO, it echoed through the building, making a river of shivers run down my arms. I followed it outside into the storm. Rain soaked my clothes again. Lightning flashed, illuminating the parking lot in a harsh white light.
And there, in the shadows, I saw her. The ghostly little girl with hollow, pitch-black eyes. Her skin was a sickly, translucent white, stretched taut over her skeletal frame. Her hair hung in stringy, wet clumps around her face; a disheveled Second Street dress hung from her body.
As she moved closer, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. The demon sensation inside me pulsed with a newfound intensity. The girl’s mouth twisted into a sinister grin, revealing rows of sharp, needle-like teeth. “One...” she whispered.
I bolted, running faster than ever through the pouring rain. Tears mixed with the raindrops. As I ran, another memory bobbed up. Papa.
It was one of the few conversations between us that survived the funeral to forget I held for him in my head.
“You’re one of them,” he said, resigned. “But not forever. You can fight it, Zena. You’re strong, like Mama was.” His words were a challenge, a call to arms.
Igrid scoffed from the corner, her arms crossed over her chest. “She ain’t one of nothin’. This is all just a bunch of nonsense.” Her dismissal stung.
Ezra clung to my arm, his face streaked with tears. “Don't go, Daddy,” he pleaded, his voice small and broken. “We need you.” The tiny desperation tinkled a wrinkle in my girlhood mind.
Something didn’t seem right about Ezra… A brother? Why don’t I remember him?
Papa was already out the door. Aunt Mabel was there. But I don’t recall her saying anything. I remember standing, numb and confused, wondering what he meant. Was I really one of them?
***
Breathless, drenched, I finally reached home. I stripped off my soggy clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor. I examined my unfamiliar reflection in the mirror again, taking in the changes.
Everything was “er”: lips plumper, breasts fuller, hair thicker – it was pregnancy without the nine-month body-wrecking ordeal. Except for the face. Though the skin shined radiant as if some miracle moisturizer self-applied; there was a flattening of features. A face mask of doom drained the image. I was afraid of what I’d see if it ever peeled off.
I stepped into a scalding shower. As the steam filled the room, I let my mind drift to a happier memory of Mama: her laughter ringing out as she danced around the kitchen, a wooden spoon serving as her microphone. The rosy recollection drove some of the dread away.
Clean, I got out of the shower. A ghostly giggle stopped the next breath. In the mirror, the demon girl’s face appeared suddenly, her hollow eyes boring into mine. “One of us,” she said. Her finger was a bony digit. She pointed directly at me.
“Goddammit!” The words bounced off the bathroom walls. But she was gone, and so was the feeling of being followed. I was alone.
I dressed then headed to the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, the Space Force smartphone beckoned. It was just a glitch. Just a glitch. That thing is busted. But…
Trembling hands reached for the gadget. Possession led action. I navigated to the Soul Gauge app, and placed my partially pruned thumb to the screen.
Outside the rain ran down the windows while I waited, heart beating furiously. Finally, the analysis finished. I almost let the phone drop at the result:
67%. Five percent less than yesterday.
Chapter 49
Day hikes are good 運動する exercise. But if it’s a night hike it’s usually a necessity.
The pine scented ascent scrawled at an awful angle ahead. So inclined, a helicopter would have been faster to reach the top. When I mentioned that to Agent Judin, he commented with a slight grin, “Even for my resources, there are limitations.” I’d find no fraud, waste, and abuse with him – he was one of the good ones.
Before I left, he updated me on the next gate trial. As usual, the clue was cryptic, interpretable in any number of ways.
“Gate of Conviction?” Ethan asked. “So we jus’ gotta believe in somethin’ real hard or what?” He said with a low voice. Cyan dozed in the backseat with intentional space between them as I drove our GOV in early morning mist to our destination.
“I wish I knew. We’ll find when we get there,” my words fell as the sacrifices from the first two gates invaded my head. James. I wiped the sorrow away. I
needed to focus, and so did they. “Now shh, y’all just get some rest. Gonna need it soon.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He closed his eyes. Yet a second later he opened them again. His unsure face viewed me through the back mirror.
“What is it, Ethan?”
“Uh, I uh… jus’ wanted to say thank you.”
“Oh, why?”
“Well… it’s, y’know... since this whole thing started, I’ve been kinda the leader of us. But I can’t take too much credit for keepin’ us together.”
“Why not?”
I rolled the van to a stop at a red light on the outskirts of Nago. The early morning ocean waves crashed at high tide, nearby, out of sight.
“I jus’ copied what I seen you doin’. Y’know how you be so brave n’ all. The way you fight – whether it’s throwin’ hands wit’ the devil or gettin’ grilled by the cops or chasin’ giant lizards down the street – it’s legit. I told myself, ‘I gotta get like that.’ So I've been channeling your vibes. And y’know? It’s workin’. I think the others've seen it. Even my Dad said he seen the difference in me. Doesn’t get on me as much as before. But I don’t mind that. It’s how he looks at me now. Like he’s kinda proud. That made me real happy. That’s cuz of you...”
My face got hot. A well of joy filled near to overflowing. Ethan. I was about to respond when he said,
"So if... somethin’ happens today, y’know… somethin’ bad, I jus’ wanted you to know that.”
“Ethan, I jus’…” The light was green. “You—” another car stopped behind us. My fingers spasmed on the wheel. Pride, dear arising ingenious useless lesson - had he learned anything from me? Or was it someone else? From this thing inside me or me, Zena Marlowe, the teacher who had guided and protected him in this horrible ordeal?
“Uh I think the light’s green…” Ethan said.
“Oh right. You jus’ get some rest, we’ll be there soon.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I pressed the gas. Fifteen minutes later, I took a glimpse in the back mirror. Cyan’s head rested on Ethan’s shoulder. Both slept, breathing even, in sweet peace. One of those moments sealed in photographic fidelity for all time.
***
An hour later, I slogged up the mountain path. Sweat collected in every crevice of my anatomy; the danger of the dark tunneled my focus on our objective:
The summit of Mount Katsuu, one of the tallest peaks on Okinawa - the location of the third gate.
That same sensation of being watched had me on edge. The unseen threat ringed circles among the trees, separating leaves from unsuspecting branches. (That’s how I pictured it.)
Cyan’s presence made me recall the 火 fire in Room 122. The thing hanging in the corner, beaded eyes smoldering in the heat. Hidden in the fold of every room for weeks – at home, in class, in the emergency room – it perched waiting for something. I had no idea what. How long would it bide on the side?
“Are we almost there?” Cyan asked. Her voice pitched with a breathy whine as she huffed and puffed between steps. “How much… further?”
“Aw c’mon, I thought you liked to work out?” Ethan said with a taunting tone. His strides along the rock-strewn path were long and deliberate. He aimed the beam of his flashlight in front of her feet.
“Yeah, I do. But…” she smacked her tongue and swallowed, “…not this kind. I’m all sweaty and gross! I’m hungry, and there’s a rock in my shoe.”
Ethan chuckled between breaths, “You good, you good. Jus’ keep steppin’. And watchout for—”
“Ah!” Cyan stumbled and fell. Her flashlight spun circles out of her hand, illuminating the maw of trees and rising boulders before us.
I rushed to her. “Are you okay!?”
“This mountain sucks!” She slapped her thigh in frustration.
I helped her to her feet as I examined her for injury. Ethan brushed brown dirt off her pants.
“It ain’t nuthin’. You gotta watch where you’re steppin’.”
“I know, I know. It’s so dark! And I can’t see—”
Gaa! Gaa!
“Wait! Did you hear that?” Cyan asked.
“Hear what?” Ethan responded.
“There was some kinda noise. Like screeching…”
I aimed my light around the area. Off the trail, sections of still forest came into view. Fallen branches lay below canopies of green. Staring trees in soldier-like rows puffed the smell of fresh leaves around us. As I investigated, the shadows between them filled me with gloom.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Are you sure you didn’t bust your head?” Ethan placed his hand on her forehead. She batted it away.
“No, I’m serious. It sounded so scary.” Cyan whispered in a tight voice. “I—”
(Gaa! Gaa!)
“I know you heard it that time!” Cyan’s voice shook. Her head whirled a circle as if the noise had come from all around.
The three of us took scraping short steps backward until our backpacks bumped. Time stretched between our shallow breaths while the halos from our flashlights roamed in all directions. Above, in the black cloud blanket, I made out the outline of a half-moon. To the left was a gaping gaggle of trees pushed apart by pitch black space. On the right, an abandoned vine-clawed tent sat among the collapse of logs and burly tree limbs. But all was silent and unmoving. The scene seized my bodily awareness. It only saw the three lights swiping spherical patterns through darkness. My senses heightened.
Then Ethan’s finger shot up, pointing down the path back toward the parking lot.
“What’s that!?”
An illuminated glow rose from below. It moved like another hiker at first. Then it began to swing fast. As if whoever held it were racing up the mountain.
“Gaa. Gaa. Ha ha ha…”
“Run!”
Ethan and Cyan’s panic filled faces took off up the mountain. I hurried after. The sound of crunched earth and kicked rocks trailed not far behind. The smell of wet animal fur hit my nose hard.
The students’ hot white beams crossed and uncrossed as they swiftly scrambled up the trickiest section of the ascent. Spike shaped rocks—some the size of a bowling ball, others small like shells on the beach—protruded from the incline. They were ankle breakers. Every reach to the next rock risked getting stuck, stung, or splintered. When the sun was up, it was a tough hump. Now, it was gas pedal mashed, gear reversed while weaving through gaps in traffic with a single tail light on. I’d never done anything more difficult.
“Gaa! Gaa!”
My legs flared fatigue from yesterday’s run. Heavy breathing, quick steps in front and behind were all I heard for the next few minutes. When the first dots of rain pelted my sweat-glossed face and a passing cool breeze messed my hair, I knew the summit was near.
“Keep going!”
The rustling behind me grew louder. I lunged long strides to the top, never chancing a look back. A few seconds later, I made it. Refreshing sea-stained air swirled around the black sky. Light rain patted my shoulders while I searched the source for the noise. Nothing.
“Did, did you see it? W-Where’s the gate?” Cyan asked between gasps.
“I got nuthin’,” Ethan responded. He was hunched over, hand on knees as if he’d just run basketball sprints.
Suddenly, a light over the edge of the peak burst open. The Gate of Conviction!
I moved in front of the kids to get a closer look. There it was spinning in the air, several feet below where we stood. A pinch of indecision coincided with dead silence from the mountain path. It was followed by a heated whoosh that caused Cyan’s hair to flutter.
She dared to peak over the edge.
“How are we supposed to—Ethan!”
Before I could react, something swooped and attached to Ethan’s face.
Chapter 50
The thing がっぷりで latched to Ethan’s face. He tripped around the jagged mountain top, his muffled cries filling the air. He brought his hands up. Clinging, tugging, to rip it off. Every pull was unsuccessful. All he got was handfuls of mottled fur.
“Ethan, be careful!” I yelled.
“What do we do!? He can’t breathe!” Cyan cried. She extended a hand but pulled it away. Probably out of fear of making things worse.
Ethan’s chest swelled and fell with greater urgency. But the more he fought, the more energy he consumed. Soon desperate yanking became sluggish slapping; his legs found less stability on the summit’s uneven geology.
“Ethan, follow my voice!” I yelled.
In a sickening moment, Ethan fell over the precipice. Plummeting toward the gate below.
Cyan’s scream pierced the coming dawn.
“Ethaan!”
Whatever attacked him was gone, too. Only the blustering wind sounded around me. I caught myself on a rock as I made my way to Cyan and the edge of the mountain.
It was hard to hear in the wind, but I strained my ears. An early bird chirped somewhere in the treetops, a red-eye flight rumbled the sky, and Cyan’s heavy despondent gulps of air hit my eardrum as if I stood next to a high-end speaker. I put the shock of my sonic hearing aside to concentrate on where Ethan fell.
There was no crack of his body hitting the ground. I was sure of it. There was still hope. “I think he fell into the gate,” I told Cyan, grasping her shoulders. “He might still be alive.”
She was inconsolable. Tears dragged her face down. “Oh Miss Marlowe! I-I can’t believe I just let him fall. I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared! Ethan! Ethan!”
“Listen, listen, Cyan! Listen, shh, shh we have to go after him. To the gate.”
She sniffled as she wiped her face with her fingers with girlish motion. “B-but… how? It’s way out there. We can’t reach it from here.”
Gate of Conviction. Fuck. This is it.
I knelt slightly to meet her eye to eye. “We’ll have to just... go for it.”
Cyan’s tear-stained face paled. “You mean jump?”
I swallowed hard. “I know it sounds crazy and scary, but I don’t see any other way. We’ll do it together, okay?”
“Miss Marlowe, I don’t know if I can do this. This is all too scary. I just want to go home,” Cyan sobbed, her body trembled beneath my hands.
Ethan’s words in the car crashed into my mind: “So if... somethin’ happens today, y’know… somethin’ bad, I jus’ wanted you to know…”
It wouldn’t end like this. Not on my watch.
“Cyan, something’s telling me Ethan’s still alive. We have to go into the gate to save him.”
She looked over the edge again. “I don’t know. It’s so high!”
“Cyan, Cyan, what do you think Ethan would do if you were in trouble?”
“He… he’d probably say something stupid,” she released a happy smile in-between crying, “Then, then come after me. It’s what he always does. He never knows when to quit. All this time...”
“Right. I know he’d do it. Will you do it for him?”
She wiped her tears again in that precious way. “I… I… yes, I can try. You’ll be with me, right?”
“Of course, I will. But we have to go, now. Ethan’s counting on us. On you. Okay? Are you ready?”
She nodded weakly. “O-Okay.”
The wind was incredible. I braced myself to avoid getting knocked down. My legs tensed; my heart blasted in my chest. Was I really about to jump off of a mountain? I took the biggest breath of my life and let it out in a slow stream.
“Okay Cyan, hold my hand. Keep your eyes open. Jump with me and use all your leg power to aim for the gate.” I squeezed her shoulders.
She nodded with a little more surety than before. “Okay... I’m ready.” I took her hand.
“Good girl. Alright, on three. One, two… three!”
We leapt from the mountainside. The cold breeze rushed against my face as the island’s horizon caught my view. For a fleeting moment of beauty, I felt the weight of potential energy pull me toward the earth. A glimmer of sunrise appeared, red orange dye cast clouds made visible.
The world flipped as we hit the gate’s surface. The same topsy-turvy, stomach sloshing sense of spin from the demi-gate at the O Club, hit again. The entire planet seemed to rotate around us. Lightening sky became floor; Mount Katuu’s jagged peak loomed overhead. But the ground felt solid as the scene righted itself.
We found ourselves in a bizarro version of the parking lot. A funhouse within the gate’s core. Eight torches burned around the circular area, casting shadows in the firelight. Our footsteps made no sound on the strange surface.
Ethan lay on a sturdy patch of air, his body convulsing. “Ethan!” Cyan cried, rushing to him.
At the top of the round area, a tiny spark glowed within a gazebo. The now familiar, fisherman’s glass orb glowed hot orange red – the gate crest. “We hav’ta seal the gate,” I said. “I’m goin’ for it. Stay with Ethan.”
Cyan nodded. I sprinted toward the gazebo. As I did, I punched the air to produce the kama. Glowing brighter than before, releasing tendrils of seablue light off the edges, it was stronger than I remembered. Rika’s enhancement had done the trick.
I was at the bottom of the steps, when a shrill cry stopped me cold. The 鬼 demon appeared. A nightmarish mix of flying squirrel and bat hovered to meet my eyes. Its rodent face twitching as it fixed on me with animal appetite. I leapt back into the ritualistic circle, weapon raised in defense.
With my opposite hand, I whipped out my Space Force smartphone and scanned the creature. The readout made my blood congeal.
“のぶすま (Nobusuma), a bat which lives to a very old age, develops magical powers and changes into a youkai... They look almost identical to giant flying squirrels, although they are much more dangerous.”
The Nobusuma spoke. The words came out like a scratching whistle. “Your strong conviction is.”
The eyes, flaming hot. Wings spread wide as if grown in the deepest darkness. This was the thing. The one that watched from the corners like dust in a giant house.
“It’s you! You’re the one that’s been watching me!”
Gaa! “Yes! Most fascinating 面白い人間 human you are.”
“Why!?”
“Your questions will not answer.”
“Son of a bitch!”
“Trial passing you did well. But gate closing, this cannot allow! 橋様 here journey ends 終わります .”
Nobusuma screeched then dashed through the air at me.
“C’mon then!” I slashed at the demon as it swooped toward my face. Blood spattered the air as my blade found its mark.
Shrieking, the Nobusuma flew to the torches. One by one, it snatched the fire out, chewed it, then spit flames at Cyan and Ethan.
“Look out!” Somehow, I reached the rear of the circle in a few steps, raised my weapon, and blocked the searing heat. The blade radiated redness like a 鉄叉 iron poker in my hand.
I drill-sliced at the feral demon but missed. I looked back in panic. “Cyan!”
Gaa! Nobusuma spat a ball of heat toward the students.
The girl pushed her arms out at the projectile with surprise intensity. Periwinkle brightness lit up her face. Cyan’s twin tonfa merged just in time to shield Ethan and herself. Murder gleamed in her eyes.
Enraged, the aerial vermin screeched and dove at her. She blocked, saving her face, but the creature’s teeth tore a deep gash in her shin. One of Cyan’s tonfa fell to the void surface.
Power exploded through me, searing from my back to my arm. “DEMON SHOT SLICE!” I hurled the kama like a champion boomeranger.
As the Nobusuma glided toward another lantern, my spinning blade homed in on its wing, cleaving it in two. Trailing blood, like jet fuel from a leaking aircraft midflight, the demon nosedived to the ground, gasping for breath.
I sprinted over then stomped on its mangled wing.
“Why did you follow me?”
“To… to see if helping you are able.”
“Helping you what?” I pressed my boot into its good wing. The screech was a wild animal in pain.
“Already trial passed,” it rasped. “The Demon King you has. I in your eyes see. 残念のこと Such pity.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Resisting his reign, we must 必ず. You’ll do… you’ll do.”
“You mean Ufuzatou? Tell me!”
“The Ancient Lands dying are,” it spit blood, “Without gates, leaving we cannot.”
Without the gates?
“Wait—!"
The light faded from its eyes. “Another gate sealed. More power to the true King, Orlay...”
The Nobusuma died in a pulse of light. A wisp of brilliance flew into my kama. Brighter, lighter, the blade surged in my hand. I absorbed (what I now knew was) my third demon core. At that moment, it hit me I wasn’t tired or sweaty at all. This power was incredible. As I let the weapon fade away, there was a strong pull for the next core. I wanted, needed it.
What am I thinking? I have to help Ethan!
Soon the witch’s circle dissolved around us and the world flipped upright again. In the next breath, we were back in the parking lot, the demon gone, as dawn painted the sky.
I rushed over to Cyan, who cradled Ethan’s head in her lap. His breathing was shallow, his face ashen. Fear clouded his eyes, but resignation settled over his features.
“My dad never seemed to like me very much,” he whispered. “And Mom walked away. I hope when they hear I fought a demon, that I was the leader… that they’ll be proud.”
Cyan shook her head vehemently, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t talk like that, you dummy! We’re gonna get you better, right Miss Marlowe?”
She looked at me, desperate for reassurance, but I found no words. A lump formed in my throat as I met Ethan’s gaze.
“Cyan, I-I really—”
She placed a delicate finger on his lips, like a new mother silencing her baby for the first time. Then she leaned in and kissed him. Everything she was, all she had, she gave it to him. His courage, his bravery, his love rewarded at last.
“Is that what you wanted to say?” she asked.
He nodded as wet streaks slid down his face.
Then I pulled her away.
Suddenly, Ethan screamed. A blast of white heat consumed his body. Cyan fell back, shielding her face from the searing light.
“Ethaan!” She crawled to where he’d been, bloodying her fingers as she scratched and beat the earth, just as I had days before. Another pillar of light ascended to the floating dawn clouds.
Chapter 51
Ethan was a 若者 young man out of time. Reality? That couldn’t be what this was. How had the last few minutes gone down?
Fuzzy recollections pieced themselves together like a self-solving floor puzzle.
That thing.
He hadn’t seen what attacked him. But the spark of moonlight in its eyes? It would remain a part of him forever.
Soon, the remembrance of how he’d arrived there (wherever “there” was) played like the old video tapes coach used to play at practice: game footage to be studied, hard. He grimaced at the thought. All he wanted to do was get on the field and play. But the tape rolled anyway.
He saw the creature swoop, fasten to his face, and blot out his vision.
Then the choking sensation began, as if he’d entered Navy SEAL survival training, dunked in a
ten-foot deep pool, hands bound, blindfolded. Only one way out, up.
But without true discipline or mental toughness, he panicked. The wind gusted. His form teetered at the top of the mountain, as he used full-sprint-strength to attempt to tear the thing away.
His hands gripped at the bristled damp pelt, coming away with clumps of stray dog-textured fur. But the thing wouldn’t let go. His eyes gushed frustrated tears at the unfairness of it all. A second later, air entered his lungs once again, but each desperate drink carried an aftertaste of happy fatigue. Half of his brain thought it was 2300 following a long day of soft study, hard practice, and making out with Cyan.
Then he fell. Arms fatigued, legs loose, he knew he was going to die – career ended early.
Then it was morning. An angel’s face – her face – beamed at him, perfectly framed by a puffy cloud above. He said some words, but it hurt too bad to get them out. Her finger hit at a flawless angle. Then came the kiss. That sin absolving act had it all, just like the first time. Strawberry flavored lips, wet and smooth, tongue (slim, fitted slick sliding, bet!) looping on his, the heat of her tears on his cheeks.
Cyan.
Cyan!
Ethan opened his eyes. He was in the parking lot of Mount Katsuu, surrounded by trees. It looked different in the daytime. Birds chirped, splashes of light filtered through the adjacent forest, a pack of middle-aged Japanese women in way too much clothing, stretched and chatted incomprehensible banter as they prepared to hike.
“What the?”
Ethan ran his hands over himself. No injuries? How?
He sniffed the air, flexing his nostrils but there was no smell. Do I have COVID again? Ah hell naw.
Then out of nowhere, a pain like none he’d ever experienced assaulted him. It was the mothafucka of body checks. A stone shoulder thrust right to the gut.
“Aaagh!”
He collapsed. Writhing, twisting in the dirt while clutching his stomach. In the corner of his eye an elderly man eyed him quizzically. The group of hikers began their journey up the mountain.
On the other side of the parking lot, he saw Miss Marlowe and Cyan. His teacher appeared weary, dirty, and sweaty.
Then there was Cyan. Even with her greasy hair shining like a used mop and her red-faced sad expression, she was still beautiful.
Despite the pain, Ethan struggled to his knees. “Miss Marlowe! Cyan! Wait! I’m here! I-I’m alive! Don’t leave me!”
By the time he rose to his feet, the with van white the familiar U.S. government license plate had pulled away. He chased it, but it crunched back down the snaking mountain road.
“Guys wait! Ugggh!” Ethan sunk to his knees holding his burning stomach.
“They won’t stop,” a voice said.
On hands and knees, he turned with care to see the elderly man who’d been watching him. Full white facial hair, a Hawaiian shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts that displayed an overgrowth of leg hair beneath—the guy was a typical American transplant. He reminded Ethan of the old guys he saw walking off base sometimes. Oversized belly, sunglasses, with a single nut protruding out the side of the crotch in a pair of shrunken shorts. But this guy was at least in shape.
“P-please Sir! You gotta help me! It’s really important!”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Ethan?”
“H-How do you know my name?”
Without warning, a fast-moving Japanese van flew up the road. Ethan whipped around a second too late.
“No!” He raised his arms in a blocking motion. However, in his condition, there’d be no scraping out of this one. He slammed his eyes shut at this horrible end. His lip ticked with despair.
Under the protection of self-imposed darkness, a blast of air hit him so hard he fell back. It curved around his body with rushing heat before it moved past him.
Astonished, Ethan turned to see the old ex-pat standing there as if nothing happened. He had the same curious expression as before.
That’s when Ethan realized he was in the biggest trouble of his life.
Chapter 52
Ethan イーサン had been through it. Attacked by a face sucking demon at pre-dawn, muscle-twisting stomach pain worse than after downing a level ten spice at Coco’s Curry, and now a van that passed through his body as if he weren’t even there.
Am I dead?
He put his hand to his chest. No heartbeat.
Then to his mouth. No breath.
He struggled to his feet while the old ex-pat looked on with amused patience.
Gotta think. His body was still stud solid. Tiny brown rocks scattered as he rotated his neck until it popped to get a glimpse at his back. He couldn’t see anything. Before he knew it, he was spinning in a circle.
“Are you done?” The ex-pat asked.
“Naw naw, this can’t be real. What the fuck happened to me!?”
“If you quit twirling like an idiot, you might learn something.” He made two clomping steps forward. His face became stern.
Ethan turned to face him, hands still clutching his stomach in agony.
“Okay, tell me, man. Because I’m… ah fuck my stomach.”
“I know it hurts. Would you like it to go away?”
Ethan nodded fast and hard. “Please.”
“Okay.”
The old man raised his fist. Ethan noticed he wore a thick silver glove. It was like the ones eagle or hawk handlers wore, though he’d only seen them before in an online video. The garment had a metallic sheen but appeared soft. He thought he smelled leather, but it was his imagination. His nose still wasn’t working.
“Here we go.”
The gloved old man clamped his fist shut. As soon as he did, Ethan saw a circular tomato-toned light burst from it. Then he fell again. This time it was straight through the solid ground.
“Aaggh!”
He was in free fall for a few seconds underground at first, then muddy earth turned to a clear sky setting.
“Oomph!”
He stopped falling and screaming, even more confused than before.
“I-Im floating in midair!?”
The old man appeared before him. He floated, too.
“You’ll get used to it. How do you feel?”
“Where am I?”
“World in between worlds, think of it like...” the ex-pat made a thinking face, “a rest spot in a video game. This is a place between second life and true death.”
“You mean like pergatory?”
The old man appeared impressed, “Exactly. But you won’t stay long.”
Ethan wasn’t listening. He was too busy checking himself. Upon inspection, he discovered another confidence shrinking shock. He felt completely fine. The pain apparently flew out of him after his subterranean plunge. But now, he had no body. At least, it wasn’t all there. His sports-shaped physique was completely transparent. He waved ghostly hands through what should have been a waist, but it was all air.
“Dammit! What gives? And who are you?”
The old American floated closer. “You can call me すー.”
“Okay, okay, Suu. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but you gotta get me back up, or down or whichever direction leads back to the parking lot. I gotta catch up with them!”
“I can do it, but are you prepared to face the pain again?”
“The gut pain?”
“Yes.”
Ethan’s lips trembled. His eyes shook, tempted with tears.
“No, no, not that.” He lowered his head.
“I thought not.”
“Why am I here? Am I really… dead?”
“Yes.”
“B-but... how’re we even talkin’ then?”
“Because this is your soul trial pre-brief. You’re not dead, yet. Whether you have true death or pass on to the next world is up to you. Do you want to live Ethan?” Suu said casually.
Ethan lifted his eyes. “...yes, of course I do!”
“Then why did you hesitate to answer just now?”
“Because I-I—”
“Hold that thought. Within the slightsoul state you…” Ethan saw him rummage in his strained shorts and produce a phone. He brought it out then raised it close to his squinting eyes.
“Ah, here it is, I’ll read from the reg so I don’t miss anything: Within the slightsoul state you are allotted access to only three sensations. The first is one of the five senses (sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell). This allows partial interaction with the world as the SOUL knew when they were alive. The second is a pain affliction (for character building.) The final is another of the five senses that is closely related to or resembles the fears, biases, shortcomings, failings, or karmic imbalance the SOUL experienced when alive.” He read as if reading an NHK evening news report. A stiff delivery with little inflection or emotion.
So I’m a half ghost now.
Ethan’s thoughts spun. If he could feel his heart, it would be beating hard. Suu droned on.
“What is the purpose of a soul trial? The reg states two reasons: one, to determine the fitness of the SOUL to pass on to another world. Two, to provide SOUL a final opportunity to mend past grievances by reliving a single key moment of physical life (SEE Appendix F-J for list of registered key life moments).”
“Key… life moments?” Ethan muttered.
“Shh, almost done. How to pass the soul trial? After the key life moment is selected by the soul trial examiner—that’s me. SOUL—you—must take proper action to alter their emotional response to the events of the key life moment within the allotted time. Failure to take decisive action or weak emotional resonance, as evaluated by the examiner, results in soul trial failure.
Upon failure, SOUL’s essence will be scraped by the examiner and true death follows.
A pass provides SOUL with the choice of true death or entry into the next world where the SOUL will be subject to the procedures and regulations of that existence.
A decision by SOUL to forego the soul trial will result in instant true death.”
Suu lowered his phone, then tucked it back into his pocket.
“Do you understand?”
“I-I do… I think.”
“Will you undergo the soul trial?”
Ethan shook his head, then nodded and shook it again. Suu’s eyes swirled following the movement.
“Kid, is that a yes or no?”
“Will I have to feel the pain again?”
“Yes.” Suu’s eyes remained hard.
A dispirited pall cast itself over Ethan’s face.
“Oh and one more thing, I forgot to mention, you must undertake the trial as a slightsoul. You won’t have the same advantage as if you were still alive.”
“W-wait a minute, so how the hell am I supposed to do anything if I’m a fuckin’ ghost!?”
“You don’t have to be a ghost…”
“But the stomach pain…”
Suu nodded.
“Ssshit! This sucks! Why? Why me? All my life it’s been this way. First, the flood, then Mom went who-knows where, then Dad, he, he…”
Suu closed his eyes nodding.
“...he made me pay for it… I protected myself best I could. I played ball, tried hard in school, stayed outta trouble… and I still looked after him. He’s not perfect, but he’s still my Pops. He’s all I got.”
“What about Cyan?”
At the sound of her name, Ethan’s lips curled upward. It hit him that it was the first time he’d smiled since he woke up.
“I love her. She wants to get married. I do, too.”
“Want kids?”
Ethan chuckled once and loud. “You know it bro. One night we was, uh you know… well you old so you prolly get it.”
“None taken.”
“Yeah yeah you got it. And she wanted me to let loose raw, no condom. She said she was ready,” Ethan said with excitement in his voice.
“But I figured her ‘parents’, or at least the folks looking after her, would get mad. She’s smart, a good girl. Not like me, ha.” Ethan was crestfallen again.
“Probably a good call you didn’t go through with it.” Suu crossed his arms.
“Yeah… you right. Plus, my dad woulda broke me if I knocked her up. Shit, Cyan…”
Suu floated forward. “Last chance. Will you undergo the soul trial?”
Ethan titled his head up to the clear void.
“For Cyan?” Suu asked.
He balled his fists to beat them against his thighs, but only swish-swiped air.
“Okay, okay I’m gonna do it. How much time will I have? What’s my key life moment?”
Suu raised the heavy looking silver glove. He said with command calmness, “You’ll know the answer to both questions when you arrive. Good luck, kid.”
Ethan put his arms out to stop him. “But wait! How will I know if I—”
Suu closed his fist and Ethan disappeared.
Chapter 53
Excruciating 痛み pain mutated Ethan’s world. As he doubled over, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come, his vision blurred and then sharpened into the dim, cluttered interior of a small house. He recognized it immediately—his childhood home in Las Vegas. He glanced around, the familiarity of the surroundings pulled unfriendly nostalgia from the rear of his mind.
He was back in his eleven-year-old body. Slim shoulders bent in a perpetual shrug. The atmosphere was constant claustrophobia. Although he couldn’t smell, he imagined the scent of the old carpet which he had never seen cleaned in his life.
Behind him, the front door slammed open, then closed with the same force. His father dragged his feet into the room. The sullen scowl he wore told Ethan tonight was going to be another long one. His Airman Battle Uniform (ABU) was covered in dried splotches of black and brown spots, wrinkled and drooping wet with perspiration. It reeked of jet
fuel, sweat, and other liquids Ethan didn’t know the words for.
Ethan observed him with vision numbing attention, while he fought to ignore the nails needling his gut. As his father approached the mantle, his gaze fell upon a picture of his ex-wife. He gently picked up the photograph. Looking long at the photo of the joyful snapshot, his face relaxed. There was angry sadness. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his fingers gently traced the outline of his wife’s memory.
The moment expired. Once again, the hard look returned to his father’s eyes as he turned to Ethan. “Did you finish your homework and the laundry?” The question was a jab at the air. Snap quick. When shadow boxing found a target, bruising was a matter of time. Ethan knew this well.
Ethan muttered a quiet, “No, sir.”
His father’s face darkened. He took a step forward and grabbed a belt hanging from the back of a chair. “Turn around.”
Ethan’s stomach tightened, but he obeyed. The first lash of the belt made him gasp. The second and third followed in quick succession, each one burning across his back. Tears streamed down his face, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Compared to the acid chewing his stomach from inside out, like rats tearing a plastic wrapper, the hits weren’t as physically damaging as he remembered.
“You useless kid! Can’t even do simple chores. You’re just like her, running away. You don’t even try!”
“But… I did try Dad!” Ethan sobbed.
“You cryin’ now? AND makin’ excuses?”
He dropped the belt. Then slapped him hard across the face. The blow sent Ethan sprawling to the floor. The pain was overwhelming. Blood swirled on his tongue.
The scissors snipping his stomach worked double time. Ethan wrapped his arms around the area. It only made things worse. He remembered Suu’s words about the trial but felt lost. He didn’t know how to proceed or if he was doing the right thing.
What do I do? Cyan. True death. What do I gotta do?
In a moment of panic, Ethan bolted for the door. He dashed out of the house as fast as his legs could carry him.
As he burst outside, the baking oven breeze of the desert hit him. Burning wind triggered a vivid memory. This is exactly what he did before: run to rocky refuge. Escape the wrath.
“I shoulda—” He turned back to the front door, but it wasn’t there.
“No, wait! Please! Gimme another chance!”
The hard landscape, jutting iron-infused peaks of Southern Nevada, crumbled away.
“Wait, Sir! I can do it. I’ll do it right this time… ugh!” Scratching in his stomach, as if a cat were shredding a bed cover, became unbearable.
He opened his eyes to find he was back in that empty space between – a hovering slightsoul once again.
Suu appeared. Sorrowful resolve best described his face.
Ethan was no longer in pain. But his body – now back in its fifteen-year-old form – was clear again.
“Did I… pass?” Ethan dared to ask.
Suu shook his head. “Do you know why?”
Ethan’s gaze sank to the airy space beneath his feet. “Because I… ran. It hurt too much. So I did it again and ran. I shoulda stood up to him or called the cops or got help or somethin’… anything but what I did.”
The old ex-pat nodded with satisfied eyes. Without a word, he raised the silver glove.
“WAIT!” Ethan said, frantic. “W-what happens now?”
“True death. Weren’t you listening during the pre-brief?”
“I was but… but, people always talk about how when someone dies they can hear em’ talkin’ to em’ from somewhere beyond. Like Heaven or somethin’ like that. Sir, is that where I’m goin’? Will I be able to see Cyan again?”
Considering his question with a non-plussed expression, Suu said, “Do you believe there is a Heaven, Ethan?”
“I… I don’t know… I hope there is.”
“Then that’s enough.”
Suu made a fist with the gloved hand. A ball of white silver light expanded and enveloped the teen. There was a sharp, agonizing pull as his soul was scraped as though he were being fed through a shuddering cosmic lathe - grinding, polishing, smoothing the rough of him away. That way, in his final moments, he was nearly perfectly shaped.
His last thoughts were of Cyan. Regretful yearning for the future he’d never have. He wanted to tell her he loved her, to hold her one last time. That’s enough.
Suu watched solemnly as Ethan’s essence dispersed.
“May you find peace in true death.”
Chapter 54
Meanwhile, on a road in the far north of Okinawa…
“I don’t get it,” Jordan said.
“What’s not to get?” Lily asked flatly.
“If Miss Marlowe and Uehara just closed the second gate down south, why’d Katsuren Castle come back to life just now?”
“Dunno. Why don’t you ask him?”
Jordan peeked toward the front seat where a silent Agent Judin concentrated on the road. The furious beat of the windshield wipers was annoying. But outside was a downpour. So Jordan sucked it up. Why didn't adults listen to the radio? Why did they hate fun?
“Hm, I don’t think it’s a good time,” Jordan whispered.
“Don’t be such a pussy,” Lily said.
“Hey, that’s my line.”
“Say it to yourself then. Unpussify yourself.”
“You been hangin’ around me too long.”
She shoved him, then folded her arms. “Whatever.”
Up front, the agent from OSI was in the passenger seat. What was her name again? Jordan couldn’t pull it up in his head. But he’d heard Judin call her something that sounded like something out of Lord of the Rings.
Agent Judin said, “Freya, what’s our ETA? This rain is horrendous.” The van idled at a red light in the middle of Naha. Or was it Nago? Jordan always got the two confused. Why do they sound so similar?
Freya blew out a loud sigh. The kind of exaggerated exhale that could have blown out birthday candles. Same one Jordan’s dad made whenever his room was a mess or he overslept.
She said, “Navigation says an hour and a half. But tack on another thirty minutes with this rain and traffic. You know how slow Japs drive. We might not make it.”
Japs?
Jordan whispered in Lily’s ear. “Did you hear that? She just said—I can’t sully my innocent tongue with it. Can she say that?”
Lily’s lips formed a cynical line. “She’s Asian. We’re allowed to say it. Probably the only ones who can. You do know what they did to us, right?”
Jordan’s face was blank. Lily waited.
“You, tell me.”
“Seriously man, how you gonna be here in Japan, together with an Asian and not know the history or the language? Listen to a podcast, Dan Carlin’s Hardcore History, and educate yo’ self.”
Jordan’s eyes lit up as he gasped. “Yo, wait a sec. Did you just say we’re together?”
Lily’s face flared red. “Th-that’s not what I meant.”
“Naw naw you put it out to the universe. It's gotta happen now.” He poked her arm.
“You’re such a fuckin’ kid,” she poked him back. Thus initiated the back seat poke war. It escalated to tickling and teasing. Their antics shook the van while the sky dumped rain.
“Will you two settle down back there!?” Freya turned to face them, eyes stern. Jordan half expected to see her hand swatting at them from the front.
He placed his hands in his lap and sat up straight. Lily repeated the movement.
“He started it.”
“She started it.”
Freya faced front. “Ugh! This is why I have cats.”
Jordan heard Agent Judin laugh for the first time ever.
***
Lily knew exactly where they were headed, but this wasn’t it.
“Yep. We didn’t make it,” Freya said. She bit then spat the words out like it was a piece of raw goya. Lily didn’t care for the flavor either.
Freya and Agent Judin were drenched after they’d scouted the apparent location of the gate. She and Jordan stayed in the stuffy van. Sweat stung the skin under Lily’s bra. It sucked.
“What now?” Lily asked no one in particular.
While Agent Judin busied himself assembling something in his lap, Freya responded.
“We wait until the rain stops. Then we camp.”
Jordan’s eyes darted around. Thick forest surrounded the van. “Where? It’s all jungle up here at Cape Hedo. We got camping gear?”
Freya looked at Agent Judin. He gave two terse head shakes. “Looks like, no.”
Lily gripped her seat. She suddenly had to pee really bad. All the rain wasn't helping block out the thought.
Freya craned her neck to see up through the windshield, then pointed up. “We’ll stay up there.”
Lily unbuckled her seatbelt then shifted up to see out the front glass. When she saw it, only one word came to mind.
“Cool.”
***
Jordan pulled a 100-yen piece out of his pocket, flicked it up and caught it. He looked over at Lily, but she hadn’t seen his coin flip-catch skill. She was too busy adjusting one of the electric lanterns Agent Judin brought with him.
He said, “Spend the night in the chest of a giant bird at the tip of the island was not on my bingo card, I gotta say.”
“Mine either,” Lily said.
The sun had set hours ago. Darkness surrounded the three of them. Agent Judin went back and forth between his phone and another strange device Jordan had never seen before.
He felt bad for the guy. Sweat clung to him in all forms. Drops, drips, streaks, puddles, no part of him was dry. His face always had a scrunched-up expression. Like he was about to, or already had, shit his pants. Yet, the man never complained. He drove three hours in traffic, put up with Freya’s attitude, and his and Lily’s restless energy. This guy was a real man. Outside of his dad, he hadn’t encountered too many like him. He respected that.
“Hey, earth to Jordan.” Lily waved her hand before his eyes.
“Huh? You say somethin’?”
“I said, come up here.”
“Oh alright.”
Jordan curved his back to stand. Halfway through the movement, his head thumped against the low roof of the bird’s innards.
“Argh! This damn roof!”
Lily spit giggled. “Hey watch out! Come here, let me see it.”
Jordan crawled up to the tiny platform. He kept his hand over his minor head injury.
“Damn it hurts.”
“Move your hands, so I can see.”
He uncovered it. There was a dot of blood on his finger. “Shit, I’m bleeding.”
“It’s fine. Here.” Lily pulled a small pack of tissues from her jacket. She slid one out and gently dabbed his head.
Her care lit him up with pleasant electricity.
“See, I told you it’s fine. Don’t be a baby,” she said.
“Is it serious?” Agent Judin called from below.
“All under control,” Lily said calmly.
Jordan viewed her in the lamp light. Something about the shadows made her round face glitter like one of those Japanese Idols; nose, lips, eyes, lashes: everything came out in crisp 4K, beautifully arranged. When she glanced over, Jordan’s heart rate spiked.
“What?” Lily asked.
“Nothin’.”
“Didn’t look like nothin’. You’re hard starin’.”
“Was not. Just lookin’ out to see if Agent Chen was back with dinner.”
“Yeeeah right. You’re that thirsty huh?” She smirked.
“Not just thirsty. Hungry, too.” He pretended to look past her.
Jordan wanted to kiss her deep and good. But with Judin there, it was too awkward. He noticed Lily staring similarly as he had minutes before. Skibidi.
“So, uh what did you wanna show me before I busted my head?”
Lily shifted awkwardly to look outside. “That. Can you see those tiny lights on the horizon?”
Jordan squinted. “Yeah, what is that?”
“It’s 与論島Yoron Island. I read they used to light a flame that was visible from here in the old days. Kinda like a peace sign.”
“I see.”
They gazed into the starry night for a while.
“What do you think about all this soul business?”
Lily considered his question.
“You mean about the whole thing?”
“Yeah. I mean what is a soul anyway? We’re just meat suits after all. Once we get old and our bodies fall apart, we die. Do you think a part of us survives?”
“Whoa, someone’s doin’ some heavy thinking.”
“It was a long car ride. Not much else to do. Phone service up here is trash.”
Lily laughed. “I dunno. But these demons want something that we have. That’s for sure.”
“What do they want?”
“Not sure. To live again in some way? Everything’s all about survival in the end. Maybe it’s no different from them.”
“You might be right. See, that’s why I fuck wit’ you.”
A bright smile crept on her face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m pretty great.”
“There, I got you to smile. You have nice teeth,” he returned the gesture.
“Thanks, yours aren’t too bad either… I guess.” She moved in closer. Jordan scooted in.
“It’s ready!” Agent Judin said. His voice echoed around the tiny metal area.
Jordan fell back then caught himself with his hands. Lily wiped her hands on the bars blocking the open-air view.
Just then, Freya ascended the thin staircase. She easily hefted two bulging plastic bags full of food. Jordan noticed her triceps and forearms ripple under the strain in her tank top. Without her vest in the night heat, he could clearly see the gun fastened to her hip. It made her seem much more deadly.
“Cleaned out the closest Family Mart… what’s that thing?” Her words came out winded.
In front of Agent Judin, a weird device like a spinning top hovered in the air. Jordan’s mouth hung open as he watched mini blue lasers shoot to the floor, causing a three-dimensional topographical layout to rise from nowhere.
Then four fuzzy dots blinked alive in the floating display.
“Whoa that’s some Star Wars shit,” Jordan said.
“Awesome,” Lily agreed.
“Everyone, this is DPDD. The Demon Proximity Detection Device. It locates and tracks spirit energy with incredible accuracy. Cutting edge U.S. Space Force tech,” he beamed as he glanced at Freya.
She dropped the bags. “I have a smartphone. Doesn’t float and works just fine.”
Agent Judin smirked then turned back to the floor display.
Lily asked, “Is that us? Those four dots there?”
Agent Judin nodded. “An approximation, but yes. If it picked up other spiritual energy signatures—”
Then the whirring of the hovering device increased. Single red orbs materialized on the map. First one, two, then two more formed around their bird bungalow.
A second later they began to move toward them.
Chapter 55
Jordan’s stomach 落とした dropped. “Uh, guys? Those ain’t friendlies, right?”
The red dots were on the move.
“Shit,” Lily said.
Freya’s nostrils flared. She invaded Judin’s personal space, her whisper sharp. “We’re sitting ducks. We need to move. Now.”
Judin’s face tightened, muscles clenching. He shook his head. “Negative. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. We observe.”
“Observe?” Freya’s laugh was bitter. “While they creep up and suck out our souls? I don’t think so.” She drew her gun.
Lily lifted a shaky hand. “I’m with her.”
Jordan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, eyes darting between the adults and the hovering display. “Yeah, man. This feels sus as hell. Shouldn’t we, like, run?”
Judin’s jaw worked silently. He gestured at the DPDD. “This tech gives us an advantage. We can track their movements, predict—”
“Predict what? How quickly they’ll kill us? We’re wasting time. Either we find these fuckers, or they’ll find us.” She was already angled toward the stairs.
Offense or defense? Jordan didn’t know which one was better. Suddenly, all the time he spent playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare III seemed useless.
Jordan’s gaze locked on the red dots. They pulsed ominously, inching closer with each passing second. His heart hammered against his ribs. “Uh, guys? Not to interrupt, but those things are even closer now.”
Lily nodded, her face pale in the device’s glow. “Jordan’s right. We should do something. What’s the call?” She eyed Judin.
His shoulders sagged. “Fine. We move. But we stay together.”
“No,” Freya countered. “We cover more ground if we split up. Two teams.”
“That’s unwise,” Judin argued.
“It’s our best bet to keep these two safe,” Freya insisted. “You wanna explain to your IG why two minors ended up as lifeless husks while you played with your expensive Space Force toy, be my guest.”
Oooh, burn.
Judin’s professional façade slipped for a microsecond. Jordan saw the boy inside, deeply wounded by her mean words. The diversion lasted long enough for him to hear raindrops drumming on the metal bird overhead.
Silence fell. The DPDD’s quiet hum filled the air. Jordan’s eyes darted between the adults, waiting for someone, anyone, to make a decision.
Finally, Judin sighed. “Fine, two teams. Freya and Lily, you take the radar blips. Jordan and I will search the woods. Comms on channel 3. You see anything, call it out. That goes for you two as well.”
Jordan swallowed hard. Across from him, Lily was visibly shaken.
Relief and terror warred in Jordan’s chest. They had a plan. But was it the right one?
As they prepared to move out, Freya fixed Jordan with a steely gaze. “Stick to Judin like glue, got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” Jordan mock-saluted, aiming for levity, but his voice quaked while squeaking as though he’d hit puberty a second time.
The red dots on the DPDD were getting close. Jordan’s eyes bounced between the display and the dark staircase. Half-expecting to see some hooded phantom float up the stairs, he let the thought drop.
Judin unzipped a black bag and pulled out a small dark blue handcase. It was plain, except for a sticker that read: PROPERTY OF USSFDOA.
Swiftly, he keyed in a combination and pulled out a handgun Jordan had never seen before. Thicker than an average pistol, with electric blue light humming at the barrel, this was some type of classified Space Force tech. Had to be. Judin lifted it somewhat slow. Whether it was out of reverence or caution, Jordan didn’t know. He performed some checks: felt the chamber, looked down the front sight, viewed the spot where the magazine should have been, then extended it to Freya.
“Take my spare,” he said.
For a second, she held back. But after another glance at the red dots, she snatched the gun and began to examine it.
“Do you know how to use it?” Judin asked.
She replaced her regular gun with the more advanced spacegun. Her holster was stuffed as she seated it comfortably on her hip.
“Sure. Point, shoot, repeat. Right?”
Judin nodded with an unsteady smile. “Comms on 3 if you have trouble. Rendezvous back here in thirty. Let’s move.”
***
Jordan slogged through the undergrowth, a short distance behind Judin. Damp leaves muffled their steps. The rain stopped, but the air remained heavy. Jordan smelled nature: the sea slamming close, cicadas wree-wreeing away, leaves swishing windy above and around – he couldn’t believe he was on a real ghost hunt. He tried to quiet his breathing, but it came out in unsynced gasps while his heart flailed in his chest. Damn, I should workout more.
He had one of Judin’s gadgets. A phone that could detect and freeze ghosts. He wanted to test it on Lily, to see what would happen, but there was no time. So he held it up until his doughy arms got tired, then raised it again.
While Judin methodically swept his flashlight and raygun left and right, Jordan picked up on something. The woods were warming up to him in an overly chummy way. Like the white van pulling up offering candy at a daycare, he got the feeling he was being groomed by something nefarious. But there was no candy. He pulled closer to Judin. Then a howl pierced the night, closer than before.
Jordan’s voice cracked. “Yo, d’you hear that?”
Judin raised a hand. Silence descended, broken only by waves beating the shore.
Jordan’s phone vibrated. The screen flickered, a ghostly outline materialized. At least he thought it had. “Uh, we got company, I think.”
Judin nodded curtly. “Show me.”
He extended the device before Judin’s face. The agent pressed a few buttons, then handed it back to Jordan with frustration. “It’s resyncing. There’s nothing in the register.”
“Musta been a false alarm, ha,” Jordan’s face flushed. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Remain vigilant.”
Judin’s radio lit up with crackly static. Jordan noticed even he got startled.
“Judin, Freya. Judin, come in.”
He raised the radio, “Judin, go.”
Silence [heavy breathing].
“Freya?”
[more rustling]
“Freya, do you copy?”
“Yeah, copy. Hey, how do I make sure the safety is off on this thing?”
Judin let out an exasperated growl. Jordan laughed. “There is no safety.”
“Got it, thanks.”
He clicked the radio off.
“Let’s continue our survey.”
They crept forward. With every step, Jordan’s phone buzzed with greater intensity, but the screen remained clear. Weird. Then he heard it. A low saccharine voice calling his name. It slithered into his ears, down his spine, settling in his gut like ice water. Jordan...
“Jordan... come to me, Jordan...”
“Dude, tell me you heard that,” Jordan whispered. His grip on the ghostphone tightened to keep it from sliding into the mud.
Judin’s frown deepened. “What?”
“A voice... callin’ me. Creepy as fuck.”
“I heard nothing. Keep the phone up.”
They pressed on. The forest closed in around them, branches clawing at their clothes. Thoughts raced through Jordan’s mind, each more panicked than the last. This was starting to feel serious. Like, life and death serious. Man I hope nothin’ happens. Me and Lily were just gettin’ close.
The voice came again, louder. “Jordan... I can give you what want...”
A sickly-sweet scent wafted through the air, like rotting fruit and honey. Jordan’s head swam. He stumbled, catching himself on a tree trunk. Its bark felt oddly warm, almost pulsing beneath his fingers.
Judin helped him up. “You alright?”
“You smell that?” Jordan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Judin’s eyes scanned the darkness as he spoke, “No. What do you smell?”
“It’s kinda sweet. Like old fruit at the commissary, flies n’ all.”
Judin sniffed the air. He glanced over his shoulder. “I have nothing. Which direction is it—”
Near a gnarled tree, Jordan’s phone went berserk vibrating in his hand. Roots twisted like skeletal hands, reaching for his feet. The sweet smell intensified, cloying and suffocating.
“Jordan, back,” Judin ordered. He pointed his fantastical weapon at the sound’s source.
But Jordan couldn’t move. His eyes locked onto a shimmering outline near the tree’s base. It wavered, like heat haze on a blistering summer day, slowly taking shape. A woman, her black hair flowing like water, eyes filled with motherly kindness. She reached for him, her fingers elongating, becoming branch-like.
“Come to me, Jordan,” she said sweetly. “I can make her love you...”
Lily’s face flashed in his mind. Jordan’s feet moved of their own accord, drawn to the apparition.
Judin’s hand clamped down on Jordan’s shoulder, yanking him back. “Jordan, get back here.”
The ghost outline vanished, leaving only goosebumps in its wake. Jordan blinked, disoriented. “What... what happened?”
“It almost had you,” Judin said. “We’re leaving. Now,” he got on his radio, “Freya, do you copy?”
After noisy static, Freya’s voice came on, her tone was less taut than before, “Copy. Status?”
“Returning to camp. Nothing out here but rain and old ghosts.”
Jordan’s legs shook with every step back.
***
Back in the bird, Freya and Lily hunched beside the lamp. Exhaustion lined their faces.
“Any sightings?” Judin asked.
“Nothin’ but a creepy dark forest,” Freya said. However, her features were tight. Holding in what she wanted to really say must’ve been hard, Jordan thought.
Freya stretched her arms over her head. “I’m starving. I got dibs on the egg pork bento,” she began to dig through the plastic bag. “You eating, Judin?”
He was already busy recalibrating the DPDD. “Perhaps later.”
Jordan joined Lily on the platform where she sat huddled up.
“And what about you? Bust any ghosts out there?”
“Soo original.”
Jordan noticed how she regarded her shoes – that glazed glare, half-empty.
“You… saw something… didn’t you?”
Lily shrugged. “It was probably just the wind. Storm is off and on tonight. Plus… it was too dark to tell left from right out there...” She looked at him. “You... see or hear anything out there?”
Jordan’s back bristled. “Just the storm… like you said. I’d much rather be in here, if I’m honest though.”
“Me too.”
***
Hours later, the wind went from whipping to lashing the structure. Freya sat watch at the top of the staircase, examining her borrowed blue blaster. Judin dozed silently under a light fabric Space Force blanket.
Rain ran in through the barred window and the temperature dropped as the tide rose in the distance. Jordan noticed Lily balled up against the side of the cramped space – knees to chest, shivering.
Stealthily, he crawled over to sit close and whisper, “Yo, if you’re cold, come here. I’m like a human furnace.”
Lily’s lips quirked. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re full of hot air.” But she scooted closer, her body heat mingled with his. “Jordan?”
“What’s up?”
“You think Ethan and Cyan are okay?”
“They’re with Miss Marlowe. Did you see her in action at the first gate? She’s like that lady from that old movie Kill Bill. No doubt they’re fine...”
“...I hope you’re right. Miss Marlowe... something’s happening with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was acting off, real sus, back at Foster today. I ran into her comin’ outta the bathroom, and she looked sorta sick.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. Made me think about how all this demon stuff affects us. Feels like, I dunno, we’re changing.”
“Into what?”
She thought for a while. “I’m not exactly sure. But we might not recognize who we become until it’s too late.”
“Woah, that’s deep.”
“Welcome to my 3AM thoughts.”
“You don’t wanna know my 3AM thoughts.”
Lily covered her mouth to suppress a laugh, “It wouldn’t be too hard to guess.”
“Oh is it that obvious?”
“Tell me then. Wait—does it start with a ‘Character’ and end in ‘AI’?”
Jordan looked outside, then back at her. “Oh look at the time. Storm says it’s time to sleep.”
“Ha ha good idea. Goodnight, Jordan.”
“Goodnight, Lily.”
Jordan’s eyelids grew heavy, the day’s terror gave way to bone-deep fatigue. Soon sleep dragged him under.
In his dreams, he was back in the forest. The sweet scent filled his lungs, dizzying and intoxicating. The woman appeared, more solid now. Her smile was kind, but her eyes... her eyes were bottomless pits of hunger.
“Jordan…” she said, her voice like honey over broken glass. “I can give you everything. Knowledge. Freedom.” Her form shifted. Lily! “Love.”
Dream-Lily reached for him, her fingers branching, bark spreading over her skin. “Just let me in, Jordan. Let me have your soul...”
He tried to run, but roots burst from the ground, tangling around his legs. The woman’s laughter echoed as the forest consumed him.
Jordan jerked awake with a strangled gasp. Sweat plastered his shirt to his back. Everyone, including Freya, lay still – sleeping – as the storm raged on. Lily’s steady breathing beside him was comforting, but he remained spooked.
That voice echoed in his head. Beautiful. Terrifying. And far too interested in him for comfort. Jordan huddled closer to Lily, eyes wide, watching their shadows for any sign of movement.
He never went back to sleep.
Chapter 56
Jordan’s スマホ phone zapped him out of his haze. A harsh vibration cut through the rhythmic patter of rain on their metal shelter.
Careful not to wake Lily beside him, he reached for the device. Three words in a text from Miss Marlowe burned into his retinas: “Ethan is gone.”
“Shit,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Jordan let phone hang in his limp arm. He took in the view outside. Fire low on the sea horizon, smoking clouds hovering above marked a new morning. The wind had died down, but a soft drizzle bowed the treetops; a bird’s early call trumpeted a salute. He wanted to pretend the aliveness was for his fallen friend. But it wasn’t. Nature didn’t care. It just kept naturing without knowing it was natural to do so. Nothing cares, only we do.
Profound heaviness made him drop his phone. It made a metallic bang loud enough to echo around the space.
Lily, along with the two agents, stirred at the sound. “Mornin’… Jordan, what’s wrong?”
He wordlessly showed her the text. Lily’s eyes widened. She was immediately awake.
The two of them sat for several minutes. Looking at the floor, listening to the rain, grieving in the quiet. There was nothing to say.
Judin looked to Jordan and Lily. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss…” He turned to pick up one of the bags from Family Mart, then offered it to Jordan.
“You should eat.”
Jordan accepted the bag and peered inside. On top was a pack of mixed nuts.
Those were Ethan’s favorites.
After breakfast, there was nothing to do. The gate wouldn’t open again until late afternoon. Anticipatory charge clung to the damp air as the heat of the day rose. Jordan watched the DPDD while he sweat out the wait. It remained quiet.
Lily picked at a stray thread on her sleeve. “Even though I wasn’t tight with him, it’s still a loss, y’know?”
Jordan nodded, memories flooding his mind. “Remember when he tried to catch that giant centipede with his bare hands?”
A fleeting smile crossed Lily’s face. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid.”
“He was the homie.”
“Yeah… I wonder how Cyan’s taking it?”
Jordan shook his head with a woeful face.
“You’re probably right.” She exhaled hard.
Freya paced in the cramped camp. Without warning, she dropped to the floor and began a series of rapid push-ups. Jordan watched her with a dumbfounded stare. How can she workout in this heat? She’s fuckin’ hardcore.
“...Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty!” She sprang to her feet, chest heaving. “Once this rain stops, we’ll scope out the path to the gate. Shouldn’t be long now.” With a small hand towel she wiped sweat from her face and neck.
Judin frowned. “It’s a steep walk down. The weather will make it treacherous.”
“We’ll be careful, Dad,” Freya said.
“Must you always be so difficult?” Judin said.
Oh here we go, interagency drama. Fight! Fight! Fight!
“Look man, I’m kidding. Are all you ‘Spacemen’ so stuffy?”
“It’s Guardian.” Judin sounded out the word with excellent diction. Miss Marlowe would have given him an “A” for it.
The agent stood then stretched his back. “It’s clear you don’t want to be here, but a better attitude would be helpful—”
“I get you don’t want me here,” Freya shot back, “but there’s nothing we can do but try to get along and stay on this side of the ground, or plane of existence or whatever’s happening here…” There was indecisiveness in her statement. Jordan caught it. So did Judin.
“Oh what’s this? Is Miss Freya Chen becoming a believer in the supernatural?”
She put her hands on her hips, glanced down at the thrumming firearm (if that’s what it could be called), and looked away.
“I believe what I can see. And so far, I haven’t seen anything but a bunch of unhinged pictures from confused teenagers, a potentially insane English teacher, and a Space Force agent with cultish enthusiasm. I mean, you have a Space Force blanket! Do you realize how lame that is?”
Judin laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Freya demanded.
“You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some belief in you. Whether you want to acknowledge that instinct or not is your prerogative. But an invisible force drew you to this moment. That’s what I believe.”
Freya angled sharply at him. In a fight, it was clear who the victor would be. Jordan did and didn’t want to see it happen. Sure would make the time pass faster. Her killer stare lasted some untold seconds. Lily held her breath beside him.
“You shut up.” With that she stalked to the stairs and stomped out.
***
The day crawled by, punctuated by bursts of anxious chatter that quickly fizzled into uneasy soundlessness.
Jordan’s mind wandered. His thoughts grew darker with each passing hour. Occasionally, he’d catch a glimpse of flowing hair from the corner of his eye, or hear a melodic whisper calling his name, only to find nothing when he turned to look.
During one lull, Jordan noticed Judin pull out a worn leather wallet. The man’s typically stoic features dissolved as he gazed at a photo tucked inside.
“That your family?” Jordan asked.
Judin startled. His hand instinctively moved to cover the photo. After a moment, he relaxed. “My daughter,” he said quietly. “She’s about your age.”
“You must miss her,” Lily said.
Judin nodded, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “She wants to be a marine biologist. Loves the ocean.” His expression clouded over. “I promised to take her snorkeling when I got back.”
Jordan felt a pang in his chest, suddenly acutely aware of the lives they’d left behind. He wondered if his own parents were worried about him. How the hell are they?
He pulled up WhatsApp and texted into the family chat:
[Busy chasing ghosts up north. But doing well. Be back soon.]
The chat wasn’t active, but he could see they at least read the message. That brought him some comfort.
Lily looked over, saw the message, and grinned.
A golden warmth filled him from head to toe.
***
As evening approached, the rain began to let up. Shafts of golden light pierced the clouds, casting a fantasy-fresh glow through the mist-shrouded trees.
Judin checked his phone. The screen gleamed in the fading light. “There’s only an hour until the gate opens.”
Freya stretched, her joints popping audibly. “Good, that gives me time to use nature’s toilet.”
“Why don’t you just use the bottle?” Judin asked, his voice tight with irritation. “You shouldn’t go out alone like you did before.”
Freya shot him a mocking glare, but spoke to Lily. “Lily, you still got those tissues?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m gonna need more than a few.” Freya tossed her hair, grimacing as her fingers caught in a tangle. “You gotta go too?”
Lily nodded. Her cheeks colored slightly. “Actually… yeah.”
“Let’s go then.”
Jordan asked, “Are y’all goin’ number two? ‘Cause I gotta go too.”
No response from Freya or Lily.
Judin looked at him, resigned. “Uh, fine, we’ll all go. Safer that way. Don’t forget, comms on 3. Eyes up. Weapons and phones ready.”
No one protested. Jordan was glad to have someone there to be responsible.
The DPDD made no sound. Jordan wondered if it was still working or if the threat had gone full ninja. A stab of anxiety made him have to shit even harder.
“Be careful. Let’s go.”
Freya and Judin took their weapons. Jordan and Lily grabbed the ghost phones. All descended to the waiting forest.
***
In the gripping thicket, Lily followed Freya. The dense foliage muffled the ambient forest sounds as they stepped through the same path as the night before. Freya moved with tactical efficiency, while Lily struggled to keep up.
There were too many thoughts doing laps in her mind beyond finding a tree. Ethan. Jordan… he definitely saw something yesterday. If not, he felt it. We all did. This place is a demon’s paradise. A nest of crawling crossworld entropy. Rushing through the woods, she thought about all the things she couldn’t see. All the ways they could steal her fire. Thinking about peeing herself was more pleasant.
“Here,” Freya said.
It was a closed-in clearing, surrounded on all sides - one way in and out. Twin grooves in the woods formed improvised stalls for imaginary privacy. How many times has she done this?
They squatted, damp leaves barely rustling beneath them. Lily was on edge. She’d never used the bathroom outside before. This was too wild.
At first, neither of them said anything. But after a minute Freya asked, “So, you holdin’ up alright with all this?”
Lily snorted, a harsh sound in the quiet clearing. “Oh yeah, just peachy. Fighting demons, squatting in the forest? Totally normal Tuesday.”
Freya chuckled. “Fair enough. Times like these, I miss my boyfriend.”
Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “You have a boyfriend?”
“Yeah, well… it’s complicated.”
“Oh,” Lily said. This has gotta be the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had. “Must be hard, with your job n’ stuff.”
“Truth. US Divorce rate is 42%. But the breakup rate is much higher, especially in this line of work.”
“How high is it?”
“No clue. But probably higher than 75% if I had to ballpark it.”
“Oh...”
A beat of silence passed. The breath of the forest blew salty from the ocean. Lily thought for a while.
Then Freya added, “Speaking of relationships, I’ve seen how you and Thick Head have been eyeing each other…”
Lily’s face flushed crimson. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered. Suddenly, the ground between her knees became very fascinating in its complete squirming detail.
“Bullshit,” Freya said, but her tone was gentle. “Look. Take it from me. If you feel something, say it. Cuz once it’s too late, you rarely get another chance. It’s all about the moment, miss it, and it’s gone forever...”
The woods seemed meaner and dim. Above, the sun was dying. Lily didn’t know what to say or how to feel. So she changed the subject. “You... think we could die here?”
“Could. Doesn’t mean we will.” Freya stood up, brushing leaves from her pants. “All the more reason you shouldn’t waste time on what-ifs.”
They finished, then headed back to the oversized kuina. It had become a strange incubator for too many feelings. Lily was an egg, transforming into something unrecognizable. Baking time was almost up – she could feel it. But she had no idea if her feelings for Jordan would survive the rebirthing.
***
Meanwhile, Jordan followed Judin, swatting futilely at the cloud of mosquitoes that seemed determined to drain him dry.
“You’re already done?” Judin asked as Jordan zipped up.
Jordan grinned, despite the circumstances. “A gas demon, blew right out of my ass. Nothing else.”
Judin chuckled. The sound was oddly comforting in the overly active woods.
Suddenly, Lily’s voice came from close by. “Hey Jordan, can you come over here? I wanna show you something.”
Huh? What’s she doin’ in the boys bathroom?
Jordan started to walk off, but Judin stopped him with stern words. “Where are you going?”
“It’s Lily. Gonna go check on her. Didn’t you hear her?”
Judin’s frown deepened, as he glanced around.
“Look, she’s close, right over there. I’m not goin’ far. Can I?”
Judin bit his lip. “Okay, go. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jordan called over his shoulder, already moving towards Lily’s voice.
The wind stirred the trees as Jordan followed a winding path, their branches creaked overhead. Mosquitoes feasted on his exposed skin, but he barely noticed, his mind focused only on finding Lily.
Finally, he reached a small clearing with a still pond at its center. Lily stood at the water’s edge, her posture uncharacteristically hesitant.
“You okay?” Jordan asked, rushing over, leaves crunching under his feet.
“Can you just hold me?” Lily’s voice quivered, a tremor he’d never heard before. “I’m freaked out.”
“Uh, yeah... sure,” Jordan said. He wrapped his arms around her. Her body felt oddly cool against his, despite the humid air. “What’s wrong?”
Lily buried her face in his chest, her words muffled. “It’s Ethan. Fuck, can you believe he’s gone?”
Jordan’s throat constricted. “No. I just saw him yesterday. Feels unreal.”
Lily shivered; her body trembled against his despite the smothering heat. “Could that happen to us?”
“It won’t,” Jordan said, his voice firmer than he felt. He tightened his hold on her, as if that would hold in their vulnerable spirits. “I won’t let it.”
Lily looked up, her eyes locked with his. Something flashed in their depths, an emotion Jordan couldn’t quite place. “Jordan, I... I gotta tell you something.”
“…what’s that?” Jordan’s heart was beating so fast, he was afraid Lily could feel it.
Without warning, she pressed her lips to his. The forest gazed at them - a neutral presence. There was the usual buzzing of insects and birds, but they might as well not have been there. Jordan’s eyes fluttered closed as he returned the kiss. His tongue explored as he pulled her in.
The taste was intoxicating, impossibly sweet like honey and ripe fruit. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered a warning, but he pushed it aside, losing himself in the moment.
As the kiss deepened, a saccharine scent filled the air, dizzying and familiar. Jordan couldn’t place it, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he never wanted the kiss to end.
This isn’t right に違いない. Not at all.
When Judin’s distraught voice came over Freya’s radio, Lily knew the nightmare-before-night was underway.
Freya clipped questions at her counterpart. Lily’s head was in too many places to catch the entire exchange.
“Where?... Opposite side of the bird… Three minutes… we’ll make it in one.”
She pulled the hot weapon and cast a grave glance at Lily. “Got your phone?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Keep it up and ready.”
Lily returned a wobbly nod.
“Let’s go.”
They ran. Likely the fastest Lily had ever run outside of school. Life moved in snaps – twigs, branches, light, leaf-green, whirled by. The forest beat the elements together like cake batter and she was among the viscous composite losing herself in
the lumps. There was no telling what this mad chef would do with the mixture.
Soon they caught up with Judin. Aiming his weapon at something in a clearing, he called, “Stay back!”
Lily burst in beside them. What she saw made her freeze, blood ice stuck in her veins.
There, in the center of the clearing, knelt Jordan. His eyes were closed in blissful baby happiness as he suckled at the enlarged breast of a naked woman—no, not a woman. Even from a distance, Lily could see the ethereal glow surrounding her; the impossibly long black glossy hair that waved in the wind. The slim face, peerless figure, and glistening complexion completed the picture. Lily knew her well. The one who’d tortured Tengo with a dubious duel of rock, paper, scissors while wearing a dirty body length sac, it was her - her true form revealed. She stroked Jordan’s hair with loving speed. Insecure chaos brewed inside Lily. Icy blood sharded—prickly stiff stab-ready—under pyroclastic apoplexy; it flowed slitting her with millions of microscopic slashes. Blood filled her empty vessel until only the mercy of drowning sleep shut her eyes for good. Her first death was a world collapsing experience.
“What the fuck?” Freya’s words registered in Lily’s ears.
With trembling hands, Lily raised the demon phone. She meant to freeze her, but snapped the picture without thinking. The screen came to life, displaying a truncated message:
乳の親・ちいのうや ・(AKA ビバ - Biba)
Translation: milk mother, wet nurse
Habitat: rivers and streams near graveyards
Appearance: Ghostly woman, long black hair, large breasts...
Judin’s notes: Extremely dangerous and cunning. Use caution
Lily couldn’t read anymore. Her eyes darted back to Jordan. A cocktail of emotions churned in her gut—horror, jealousy, concern.
“We need to get him away from that thing,” Judin said. His weapon ready.
“I have a shot,” Freya said.
“Freya, don’t you dare,” Judin retorted, “Jordan is there.”
The creature—the Chīnouya—turned its head towards them. Its face was a mask of gentle, motherly kindness.
“I’m gonna take it.”
“Freya, stand down,” Judin said between clenched teeth.
The creature known as “Biba” spoke with a melodic register. “Look what they’ve done, Jordan,” she said. Her voice was broken glass boba tea sliding down Lily’s throat. “You knew this shrew couldn’t be trusted. They’re jealous of what we have. This boorish space guy and no-life-having Air Force agent don’t know what love is. Don’t let them take what we deserve.”
Freya’s face hardened. No notice, she adjusted her aim, then fired. Lily covered her ears as the bassy blue streak released a shockwave of light around the barrel. The shot caught the Biba in the shoulder. She recoiled with an inhuman shriek.
Jordan’s eyes snapped open, unfocused and hazy. “No! Don’t hurt her!” He launched his large body at Freya. They crashed to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs. Lily watched in horror as Jordan, her Jordan, fought with a strength she’d never seen before.
Judin aimed his weapon at the scuffling pair. Finding a clean shot was probably harder than hitting a target in category five winds.
Sunset was nearing. The gate. What had Judin told them the trial would be? Lily recalled their conversation on the eventless morning.
“It’s the Gate of Reflection, according to our analyst.
“‘We’ve all been doing a lot of that here, so it makes sense, ‘Lily said.”
“Judin replied, ‘Reflection has many meanings. What looks back, isn’t always truth.’”
Lily began to understand what he meant.
Not far in front of her, Freya fought Jordan. She had skill. He had size. Size matters. He crushed her waist and disarmed her. It wasn’t going well.
“Jordan, stop!” Lily yelled. But he continued his assault. Meanwhile, Judin hunted for the demoness. Likely looking to break whatever witchcraft she’d used to manipulate Jordan.
Then a blinding light suddenly pierced the sky, so bright that Lily had to shield her eyes. The very air seemed to vibrate with power, sending ripples through the forest. Trees swayed violently, their leaves rustling screams. The ground beneath Lily’s feet trembled, and she struggled to keep her balance. A light rain fell, droplets glinting like diamonds in the still-burning evening sun. The conflicting sensations—cool rain and warm light, brightness and darkness—disoriented Lily. The surreal scene became even more nightmarish.
“Blast,” Judin said, “The fourth gate—it’s open!”
Biba’s laughter rang out, a sound of pure malevolent joy. She reappeared, enormous bosom dangling over her nude figure, beckoning Jordan. Coughing hard, Freya struggled to her feet with her weapon, muddy grass smeared on her clothes. Judin joined her.
“Jordan, come back!” Lily pleaded.
“He already has. Haven’t you Jordan, my baby?”
Biba’s form shimmered, then changed. Freya and Judin lowered their guns. Lily’s breath caught when she saw why. She found herself staring at... herself.
An empty-eyed Jordan clung to Fake-Lily in an image straight out of her fleeting fantasies. Except there was no gratifying contentment. Only stomach draining repugnance.
“You… you can’t be me,” Lily mumbled in sad shock. The agents looked between both versions in utter confusion.
“Y’see Jordan, they want to kill you and me. Fuckin’ crazy cops. Forget that fake demon bitch,” Lily said. “We have to go seal the gate. Stop dickin’ around and come on.”
Something in Lily snapped. She lunged forward to grab Jordan’s arm. “Jordan! Snap out of it, man! It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?”
For a moment, the world ceased its spin. Jordan’s eyes, still unfocused, met hers. Lily held her breath. Her eyes were shovels, digging desperately for any sign of recognition. She saw a drop of something—confusion, perhaps?—in the depths of his gaze. Her heart leapt. Hope blossomed. This was her Jordan. The boy who’d stood by her side through this hell. The one with the perfectly sphered ass. The one who’d held her, made her laugh, shared his shoulder, and given her the last chunk of his spicy Family Mart chicken. She reached out. Her fingertips brushed his cheek. It was her most tender bid to awaken his weak memory. He had to see her—the real her, right?
“Jordan,” she whispered, “It’s me. Please...”
In the span of a splash, Lily thought she saw a spark of the real Jordan. It was a softening around his eyes that was achingly familiar, a glinting orb of connection drifted to the surface. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. A cold, alien hostility snatched it out like a dog-sized crow. Lily recoiled.
“Lily, he’s not there!” Freya said harshly.
Jordan’s face twisted in disgust. “Yo, get away, you dirty demon! You don’t smell right.”
Fake-Lily said, “See? I told you all these demons stink. Let’s go seal the gate.” She cast a kittenish wink at Lily as they ran toward the gate.
Judin fired his weapon but baked a tree instead. “Damn!”
“He just... didn’t see me...” Hurt helplessness settled in Lily’s chest. Her knees gave way, tears stung her eyes. This had to be the worst day of her life. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to. I’m always invisible. Maybe… maybe I shouldn’t be here. The cliff’s right over there. Maybe I should run for it… A strong hand gripped her arm and guided her to stand. It was Freya. Her face set in grim determination.
“Hey, hey, don’t be like that. We’ll get him back,” Freya said firmly.
Lily cleared the tears away. She decided to believe her words with all her heart, or whatever was left of the thing flapping erratically in her chest. Jordan, I’ll get you back.
“We need to get Jordan, go for the gate, and neutralize that demon,” Judin said, his voice tense. “Her power grows the closer she is to it. This might be a tough one. Are you ready?”
Freya’s ghost gun hummed as she charged it. Judin readied his.
Lily rammed her fist out to the agitated air. Orangish-red light bloomed before her tear-streamed face, as her shining hanbo staff materialized.
She eyed the length of it. There wasn’t much fight left in her. But if it meant getting Jordan away from her, no fight was too hard nor price too high.
Chapter 58
The rain was 激しい relentless as Lily, Freya, and Judin made their way down the dicey path. Slick mud beneath tangled vegetation threatened their every step on the steep decline. Lily could see a tower of light below where the Gate of Reflection waited. Where Jordan was.
The wind pushed, strong. Lily almost lost her balance once. Judin pulled her back on the trail. She gritted her teeth, eyes locked on Jordan’s back as he walked ahead with Fake-Lily. It was a painfully slow chase, caution always necessary on the dangerous terrain.
As they navigated lower, Lily noticed something unsettling about the false version of herself. Her movements seemed unnaturally fluid, almost as if it could mold its body at will. At times, it appeared to shrink slightly to avoid overhanging branches, then expand again. Lily blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her in the dimming light.
Suddenly, her foot slipped on a patch of wet leaves. Her heart seized as she felt herself falling. This time it was Freya who caught her.
“Be careful,” Freya said. Her speech barely audible over the howling wind and pounding rain.
No one spoke as they continued going down. The roar of crashing waves grew louder with each step, until finally, they reached a small sandy beach littered with sharp corals. The gate stood ominously before them. Its energy crackled against the fury of the Pacific. “The gate’s window is already closing!” Judin said.
Freya said, “Fuck! We can’t close it with Jordan there. What do we do?”
“I have a plan.”
Just as Freya opened her mouth to ask for details, Jordan turned. Fake-Lily stood possessively behind him. Freya and Judin flanked the real Lily, ready to fire.
“Hey bitch-witch, let him go,” real Lily demanded.
The demon wearing her face smirked. “Now you know I can’t do that. This is the Gate of Reflection. Tell me Lily, do you like what you see?” She stroked Jordan’s face from jaw to chin. “You seemed not to treasure him much before. How about now?"
Lily’s eye twitched. “I... I, maybe I didn’t in the past. But it’s different now. Give him back. I-I’ll fuckin’ end you, bitch.” She swung her hanbo staff forward, prepared to battle to the bitter end.
Fake-Lily chuckled with glee. With feminine poise Lily wished she had, her doppleganger leaned in close to Jordan’s ear and said, “Do you hear that, babe? This lonely heartless girl wants to end me. You gonna let her destroy everything we got? She’s nothing.”
It’s not me. It’s not me. Lily desperately wanted to see through the disguise. Biba was talking in her skin, not her. But the more the demon spoke, the harder it was not to heed the familiar whisper of self-doubting deception she’d heard all her conscious life. You don’t matter. Nobody will love you, you fat, heartless, sarcastic sack of shit. You deserve everything you’ll never have. The reflections rattled her confidence like they did almost daily.
Fake-Lily made out with Jordan, tongue included. Then curled a devilish smile at her.
“You see how good that tastes, Jordan?” He smiled broadly at her, then eyed true Lily with hateful eyes. “Time to send her to back to the otherworld, baby. Will you do it for me?”
“You know it, I got you,” Jordan responded. His empty voice titled Lily’s world. It was more haunting than the sight of the succubus.
Lily’s stomach dropped as Jordan pushed his fists out. In a flash of turquoise brilliance, the tinbe-rochin formed. Gripping the menacing short spear and a polished large turtle shell-sized shield, Jordan wore the firmest face she’d ever seen on him. The demon’s eyes glittered with malice as it purred, “Now, kill that poser, so we can be together.”
Jordan’s gaze locked onto Lily, his expression devoid of recognition. He thrusted the pointy spear at her. Lily had little time to raise her hanbo staff to block him when a burst of blue light lit up the beach.
Judin stood with his weapon raised. “Over here!”
Jordan changed course. Judin was now his target. The agent’s reflexes were fast. He fired again. The beam caught Jordan in the shoulder. He fell back onto the beach with a cry of pain. With Jordan stunned, Judin holstered his gun, pulled out his phone, then started manipulating something with frantic fingers. Lily had no time to consider what he was doing.
“Jordan!” She called out, torn between rushing to him and maintaining her defensive stance.
Seeing her puppet damaged, the demon’s form shifted from Lily, back to her true form. She crawled across the sand like a hermit crab with inhuman speed. She sprang up, tackled Freya to the ground and attempted to smother her with its unnaturally large breasts. Freya thrashed. She eventually landed a solid knee in the creature’s diaphragm. As the demon rolled away, Freya fired her weapon from between her legs, missing by inches. A plume of sand exploded skyward.
“I will drown you with maternal love,” Biba said. Then she dove into the churning sea.
Lily watched as the ocean frothed and foamed. Soon a massive wave gathered under the late sunset sky with terrifying speed.
“Get back!” Freya yelled, but there was nowhere to run on the tiny beach.
The wave crashed down upon them with smashing force. Lily choked. Salty water burned her lungs. For a horrifying moment, she was twisting in the ocean’s mighty current, disoriented, asphyxiating with haste; she thought she might never surface again.
When the water receded, leaving them sputtering, Biba’s singing laughter echoed around them. The sound seemed to come from all around, as if the creature could manipulate its very essence. “You will all die here, and I’ll have his soul,” she threatened. But Lily couldn’t see her anywhere. With the Chinouya out of sight, she noticed the gate shrinking shut.
“We’re gonna lose the gate!” Lily said.
Judin, shaking water from his ears, smirked. “I don’t think so.”
A tiny drone zipped out of the closing gate, returning him. So that’s what he was up to earlier. Smart guy.
Relieved, mind still split too many ways to count, Lily ran to Jordan. He was prone on the beach. Breathing. Alive. Thank all that is holy among humans.
The gate’s closure assaulted Lily’s senses. A high-pitched whine filled her ears, growing in intensity until it became almost unbearable. The sound vibrated through her body, rattling her teeth and making her eardrums throb. She instinctively covered Jordan with her body to shield him from the blast.
With a final, thunderous clap that sent shockwaves rippling through the air and sea, the gate snapped shut. In its wake, the sounds of nature returned. Twilight blackened across the horizon, wind gushed around Okinawa’s tip, waves beat the shore, and Lily heard her own heavy breathing again.
Where the gate had been, Lily saw the same spectacular light Rika cast on their weapons days before, rise to the clouds. Two flew down. One into her staff and the other into Jordan’s discarded arms. The demon cores.
Biba appeared again. She was livid. “How did you…?”
“Remote control drone-delivered bomb,” Judin said with pride.
As the truth sank in, Freya discharged her weapon. A direct hit. The Chinouya fell back, gasping. “This world... you... what have you done? By killing me, you’ve condemned all of humanity. You are dogs! Nothing! NOTHING! You don’t deserve this world. Damnation is your legacy! Suffering, your future!”
“Looks like the only one suffering here is you,” Freya retorted.
The demon’s eyes narrowed; a sickening smile plastered on her lips. “I’ll be with him forever.”
Without warning, the demon flipped over onto her stomach and spider crawled. Freya and Judin opened fire, their weapons discharging rapidly. Blasts of sand erupted around her as their shots missed. The creature shrunk smaller and smaller as it scuttled through them. Lily watched in horror as the tiny form darted through the chaos, evading every impact with uncanny agility.
In that moment of quiet, Lily leaned closer to Jordan, relief washing over her. She positioned herself partially over his prone form, trying to shield him from any stray shots or the demon’s advance. “Jordan, it’s over. We—"
Her words were cut short as she saw the demon, now impossibly small, crawling across the sand towards them. Before she could react, it climbed up Jordan’s face then forced its way between his limp lips.
“N-no!” Lily cried out.
Jordan’s eyes flew open, filled with an alien malevolence. In one fluid motion, he gripped his short spear and thrust upward. Lily felt a sharp, burning pain as the blade sank deep into her stomach.
Time stood still. Lily looked down at the weapon buried in her abdomen, then back up at Jordan’s face. Suddenly, Jordan sighed, and his eyes cleared, but the sigh echoed with a small, horrible woman’s scream that lifted into the night. Awareness flooded back into his gaze, only to be replaced by dawning horror as he realized what he’d done.
“Lily!” Freya and Judin shouted in unison, rushing forward.
Lily scooted back in the sand. Her legs weakened. As she fell, warm blood flowed from the wound, soaking her shirt and running down her side. The sea air was so nice, it felt good to feel good.
A small, pained smile crossed her face as she hit the ground. “God, you fucking killed me,” she managed to say. The irony of it all, the cruel twist of fate, became apparent as her vision dulled. “You are such an asshole. I... I don’t know why I like you.”
Her hanbo staff lay on the beach as blood soaked the area. Jordan sat up and knelt beside her. His face scrunched in confused anguish. He gathered her into his arms. Lily saw early stars fading above.
“Lily! Lily, yo, I’m sorry! I-I don’t know… why did I? Oh fuck me! Somebody help me,” he choked out. Tears streamed down his face. “I didn’t mean to... Oh God, Lily, please...”
Too weak to speak, she saw Freya shove him out the way, to get at her wound. Judin repeated soothing words she couldn’t make out.
As consciousness began to slip away, Lily’s last coherent thought was a combination of relief that Jordan was free and a burning desire to punch him square in the jaw – if only she could summon the strength to lift her arm.
Chapter 59
Lily’s eyes opened, but she didn’t see anything 何も見なかった. The world was black.
Am I… blind?
No matter how many times she flexed her eyelids, no light entered. Her retinas were wrecked.
Shit. Yeah, I’m blind.
“Hello?” she called into the void. After several seconds, there was no echo. That meant no walls or hard surfaces around. Basic physics. Where the fuck am I?
That’s when she understood the first sense. Besides―if she could feel herself blinking, then feeling was all she had. There was a brief test. She raised her arms above her head. High. Her shoulders shook. Probably from holding the weapon. With deliberate slowness, she brought them down then slid them over her body. All her lumps and bumps were present; stuffed under the clothes she wore the night before. While her hands traced
down, a new feeling entered. The internal happenings beneath her skin surfaced. Head fired thoughts. Neck flexed forward. Chest rising, beating. Gut sloshing, sliding. Strangely, there was no stab wound in her stomach. What the...? Her palms illuminated all they touched like an x-ray in flesh form. The experience was foreign. Disembodied. The word floated like a fart into her brain. Lily trembled as Anxiety yelled angry in her ears.
Ears. They were there, too. Soon they picked up more than soundlessness. An expanding blend of instruments sounded. It was a large orchestra of old White people (and probably a single Asian woman for color) warming up. Cello, clarinet, bassoon, viola, violin blared at somewhat melodious frequencies, followed by a tap, tap, tap. The conductor?
Then it was music. First a single violin melody. Ah that’s not bad. Then a soft clarinet countermelody came. The rhythm was relaxed. It flowed from ear to ear easy. Lily’s insides slowed in the concert vibe. An elision. A masterful mystery. Who’s playing this? I guess it’s okay. She listened, loosening up for the first time in weeks, until the first cymbal crashed her out of the trance. A French horn barged in out of time. A violin screeched un-synced. The timpani beat an uncoordinated cadence. Tap, tap, tap. But there was no order, only increased amplitude at the increasingly discordant noise the crazed collection of instruments made. Head, heart, heat, all flared frenzy within her. Lily slapped her hands over her ears. But it did nothing to deaden the noise. The ghosts in the gallery continued their performance unimpeded. Louder and louder until she was sure her ears would bleed.
“Ugh! Make it stop! Make it stop!”
“Do you want me to turn it down?” A man’s voice called.
“Yes! Yes! Just fucking make it stop!”
The tone-deaf symphony quieted, but still sounded as if it were a blaring television in an adjacent room. When it was low, a thread of tense material wound through Lily cinching then releasing with every second in the dark.
“I thought you liked music?”
Lily choked out a broken sentence. “I-I do. But man. Not like that. I still hear it. You can shut it off?”
“Afraid not.”
Her mouth opened to curse, but the words fell on the floor. She coughed hard. A spiked thread - weaponized piano wire - tightened her organs with every strain of movement. The pain was sharp. A slap with a razor-bladed hand every time. When her midsection was still, she decided short shallow breaths mollified the intensity. But it was still tiptoeing through a room of skin-ripping glass with no windows or doors for exits. Even speaking was too great of a risk.
“You’re probably wondering: ‘What’s happened? What’s this terrible music? Why am I here? Why do I feel like a string has sewn itself inside me?’ Questions like that, right?”
Lily gave a series of careful nods.
“Well… you died, technically. Killed tragically, by a boy you were getting close with, maybe you even liked him a little. Do you remember?”
Wetness welled then fell on her cheeks. Jordan.
“Shh, shh. It’s alright. Death comes swiftly for all men, women―and even cynical teenage girls. You’re not the first to be killed by a loved one. Happens more than you think.”
Lily’s head bowed.
“But you’re not completely dead yet, either. Which makes you lucky among the thousands, or perhaps hundreds of thousands, who saw their last sunrise today.”
She dared to raise her head. The voice was all she could cling to in this underworld where an invisible tether tunneled gravity crushing agony in an infinite loop inside her.
“You’re in what’s called a slightsoul state. Like this, you can only access certain senses. It also comes with some manifestation of pain. Usually, it takes the form of some hang up or significant form of stress you dealt with when you were alive…”
The voice stopped. Lily unconsciously leaned in causing fresh discomfort to wrap firm around her. She gargled a throat burning groan that floated up her esophagus then popped at her tonsils. The result was a gagged sigh followed by a burp.
“As you can see (or can’t) you’ve got sense and sound, but nothing else.”
Lily rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah I know. You’re probably tired of hearing this old man go on and on. But you’ll want to hear what comes next… how would you like to see Jordan again?”
Her eyes bulged. The pain came on cue. She blocked it out to concentrate on his words.
“I thought so. Then listen well to how the soul trial works…”
The voice explained the details. Lily listened attentively, taking as many mental notes as possible through the wall of agony she was in. Partway through the bland explanation, her imagination stirred with dramatic dimension on a large screen. The soul trial was a quest to the land of the familiar. But instead of a long Star Wars-esque saga, it was a single mission. One chance to retrieve the sacred item: her soul.
She pictured herself thin and beautiful. Her body finally matched those golden Instagram models (without the puffed lips or fake tits). Her polished hanbo in hand, she unleashed athletic skill on a gaggle of ghouls at the gates of the final castle. A tall light scorched a pillar through the dark heavens, parting the clouds above. Lightning cracked as she stood, long hair blowing in the wind, on a cliff overlooking the manor. This was it.
Single hit death.
One chance.
Zero lives.
I can’t fuck up.
By the time her thoughts cleared, the voice had finished its exposition.
“Will you undergo the soul trial?”
Lily gave a quick shallow nod.
“Then Lily Chang, I wish you luck.”
Blindness, blandness, blank smell. Even so afflicted, with a skeleton symphony bashing out disordered notes in the back of her brain, Lily’s imagination roamed free. Her lips slid up into a smile before she disappeared.
Jordan. I’m comin’ back.
Chapter 60
重さHeaviness. A weighted sensation pressed Lily toward the floor. Apparently, gravity gained a few newton-square meters per kilogram squared while she was in the dark. Wherever there was.
Her eyes were closed. She psyched herself up to open them. C’mon, c’mon. Don’t be black. Don’t be dark. Lily’s heart sped up. Somewhere in the distance, the sobbing symphony stroked the air. The scent of stale chalk and musty textbooks tickled her nostrils, a familiar yet unsettling odor.
Lily’s eyelids fluttered open, and a flood of fluorescent light assaulted her vision. The familiar hallways of Kadena High School stretched out before her, every detail painfully crisp and clear. The lockers gleamed with an unnatural sheen, and the tile floor reflected the harsh lighting like a mirror. Everything looked exactly as she remembered it, yet something felt profoundly wrong. The air itself seemed to vibrate with an unsettling energy, and the distant symphony she had heard earlier continued
to play. Its melancholic notes weaved through the corridors. The taste of copper lingered on her tongue, as if she’d been chewing on pennies.
As she took a tentative step forward, Lily became acutely aware of her body. She sent a finger into the side of her stomach over her shirt. When it sank into the flab, she exhaled bitterness. The fabric felt rough against her flesh, chafing with each movement.
I’m fat again, great.
The extra weight she had worked so hard to lose was back like a rucksack-weighted skin suit. It pressed down on her joints and made each movement a laborious task. She glanced down at her hands. The soft fingers and the puffy red wrists filled her with dismay. A wave of self-consciousness crashed over her. It threatened to drown her in a sea of insecurity. But as she lifted her gaze, a new horror awaited. The students in the hallway, previously bustling with activity, had all turned to face her. Their eyes, devoid of any emotion, bore into her with an unblinking stare. The air around her seemed to thicken as if she were back in the island’s northern forests. Breathing was a burden.
What are they looking at? Oh, me.
Lily looked at the cafeteria clock. 0720. Time for first period. She gripped the straps of her backpack. The coarse material dug into her palms as she made her way to class. Along the way, students stared and swiveled their necks as she passed. As soon as they were behind her, they resumed chatting or laughing as if nothing happened. A cello strained a long level note as she reached Miss Marlowe’s room. The door handle was ice-cold. She turned the handle quickly then entered.
All of her friends were there, but her attention landed on Cyan. “Hey, Lily! Ready for Miss Marlowe’s quiz today?” Cyan chirped. Her voice cut through the background noise of the classroom. The words hung in the air, almost visible, like wisps of smoke.
Lily blinked, momentarily taken aback by the normalcy of Cyan’s greeting. “Quiz? I didn’t hear anything about that,” she replied. Her voice was shaky. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth with dryness.
“No? She mentioned a big test last week. But I swear, she made such a big deal about it! ‘Make sure you study, it’s a big grade’ she went on and on. Like it was some life-or-death kinda thing, y’know?”
Lily’s breath caught. “Uh… that serious huh?” The words tasted bitter as they left her mouth.
“Yeah it was! But I’m sure you’ll be fine. You passed the last one without even reading the notes.” Cyan winked, smiled, then went flat. Her usual enthusiasm disappeared and worse, she stopped talking. That never happened.
“Cyan?”
Cyan turned in her seat and didn’t respond. An angry wounded creature clawed and rattled a rusty cage in Lily’s core. Her hands shook as she attempted to remain calm.
Then Ethan sauntered over. The scent of his overpowering cologne hit Lily like a wall, so strong it was if she’d taken a shot of the liquid.
Ethan approached with his usual swagger, but something about his gait seemed slightly off, as if he were a marionette controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer. He flashed his trademark grin at Lily.
“Heyo, Lily! Heard about the big test? Man, I hope I don’t bomb it like last time. That’d be a real soul-crusher… you know what I mean?” Ethan chuckled, but the sound was hollow, without the friendly back-and-forth they used to have. His eyes glazed over for a split second before he blinked rapidly, focusing back on Lily with dead-eye intensity.
“Whatever, man.”
Ethan’s smile mis-fired, then dropped. He twisted into his chair then faced forward. Lily heard the monster of loneliness wailing as a violin scraped out a tremolo ostinato in the distance. The sound grated against her ears like nails on a chalkboard.
Tengo sat next to her, flat-backed, eyes forward. The scent of his familiar green tea wafted over, but it smelled off, almost rancid.
“Hey, Tengo,” Lily ventured, her voice barely above a whisper. She hoped for some semblance of normalcy from him.
Tengo turned his head robotically. His eyes met hers with an unsettling blankness. “Hello, Lily,” he replied, his tone stripped of any emotion. He held her gaze for a moment too long before snapping his attention back to the front of the classroom. The violin’s tremolo intensified, its frantic notes mirroring the growing panic in Lily’s chest. Her skin prickled with goosebumps.
This isn’t right. What the fuck am I supposed to do to pass this damn trial!?
For some reason the bell rang. Lily saw the clock. Lunch? Already?
She made her way to their standard lunch spot, the back of Miss Marlowe’s class. The smell of cafeteria food – a mix of overcooked vegetables and grade “E” prison meat – permeated the air, turning her stomach. A conversation about a new terror of a math teacher in the annex became the topic. Lily chimed in from time to time. The others acknowledged her, but they didn’t see her. She might as well be a damn window. They looked right through her. The animal inside her roared a request for release. Denied. Although her stomach rumbled, she didn’t eat. The thought of food made her nauseous.
Then the door swung open and Jordan walked in. Late as usual. The rush of air from the door carried his scent – a mix of sweat and his familiar deodorant. Lily’s heart raced at the smell of him.
His expression was guarded (like normal). But that’s just him. He looked great—amazing in fact. A flicker of hope flamed in her chest. Without a second thought she sprung from her seat, wrapped him in her arms, and kissed his lips. They were soft and damp. A bolt of electricity struck Lily and illuminated her being. The animal in the cage quieted. The taste of mint exploded on her tongue.
When she opened her eyes. Jordan’s face wore neither shock nor a familiar radiance. It was the very same emptiness she’d seen all day.
The others looked on with expected reaction. Cyan’s face reddened with empathetic embarrassment. Ethan snickered. Tengo frowned. Even Miss Marlowe stared with a jocular smirk. A timpani pounded a quick tempo matching Lily’s shallow breath. The sound reverberated through her body, making her teeth chatter.
Lily stumbled backward, her arms fell flimsily to her sides. The electricity that had coursed through her moments ago fizzled out, leaving her feeling hollow and cold. The pounding timpani in her head, beat the quietude out.
“I... I’m sorry,” Lily stammered. She looked around frantically, searching for any sign of genuine emotion in her friends’ faces. But their expressions remained fixed, like masks poorly fitted to mannequins. The animal inside her cage began to thrash again, its howls of loneliness threatening to overwhelm her. Lily realized with horrifying clarity that she was truly alone in this twisted version of reality. The taste of defeat was acrid in her mouth.
Then a second revelation hit her like an ice bucket. I always wanted attention, but not for being tall and fat. Just for being me. But maybe I wanted it too much. I did what I always do…
She gasped at the last thought. Suddenly, the skeleton symphony played a soft sweet lament. First her friends, then the classroom, and finally her body dissolved. Everything dimmed, then was black. The music faded, replaced by weighted quiet.
Shit! No!
She opened her mouth to scream, more from frustration than fear, but then found herself choking. The piano wire threaded itself through her with greater force this time, as if a rough-handed seamstress performed a hurried stitching. Razor pain sliced through her as she returned to the place of darkness. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
The suffocating blackness enveloped Lily, the piano wire of pain tightening with each labored breath she took. She was suspended in an endless void. Her sense of self fragmented with each passing moment. The phantom melody ended on a tonic note. There was no applause.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the darkness, neither warm nor cold, but matter-of-fact in its tone.
“Lily, it’s me the voice. Just call me ‘Suu’.”
Straining her memory, she pondered the name. It sounded somewhat familiar. It meant something important, but she couldn’t remember what. She used test concentration to recall the information, but in her sad state, thinking straight wasn’t something she could do.
“It was tough wasn’t it, Lily?”
Lily choked an attempted reply. She settled for a nod instead. The movement sent waves of pain through her body.
“You failed the trial, Lily Chang. I’m sorry.”
The words hung in the air. Each syllable pierced like a dagger. Lily wanted to protest, to argue that she hadn’t been given a fair chance, but the constriction clamping her failing organs made speech impossible. All she could do was listen as Suu continued.
“The need to be accepted for who we are is a very human thing. Well, I should say your need for acceptance. That desire died for me long ago.”
Tears streamed down Lily’s face. The salt stung her eyes and left bitter tracks on her cheeks.
“You got caught up, as many humans do, in your loneliness. Desperation drove your actions, not genuine connection or empathy. Shame, I was really rooting for you.”
Suu paused, and Lily felt a shift in the atmosphere, as if the speaker were considering something. When he resumed, there was a hint of melancholy in his tone.
“You know, I’ve seen countless souls come through here, each with their own story, their own regrets. But yours... your attempt to win the world through contempt, by pushing it away, reminds me of someone I once knew… someone I’m trying to save…”
Lily’s discomfort subsided slightly, replaced by a curious numbness. She sensed there was more to his story, something hidden beneath the surface of the seemingly impartial judgment. He continued, softer now, almost as if speaking to himself.
“These young souls, they’re so full of potential, so much raw energy. It’s a shame to see them extinguished, but sometimes... sometimes sacrifices must be made for a greater purpose.”
A million questions circulated in her mind, but Lily figured the time for answers was gone. The air around her seemed to press in on her from all sides.
“Do not be afraid.”
Buried under the heap of fear-wretched torment, she remembered what the word meant, and deduced who this man was.
Wait, don’t!
His tone shifted to almost paternal quality. “Your essence, your experiences, they won’t be wasted. They’ll contribute to something... important.” There was a pause, filled with subtext. “My daughter, she needs this power. To save... to return to a place long forgotten.”
Lily writhed in protest as the barbed thread eeled its way through her. Every move stabbed bundles of blisters on her soft insides. A dribble of blood-flavored saliva dangled from her lips as she let out a muffled shriek.
Chapter 61
My stomach お腹 somersaulted again. Another fit of nausea seized my spine as I leaned over the side of the boat, puking watery chunks into choppy water. There goes my breakfast.
Yumi patted my back. Even behind her sunglasses I saw how her usually buoyant face had deflated from her own hurling.
“Let it out. Let it out,” she said soothingly.
I spat the day-old food taste into the sea, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“No need for dieting. Just take a ride on a boat out here. Ultimate Okinawa Diet.” Yumi shouted over the splashing and shaking engine beneath our feet, and all the squalls rushing across deck. The sun blazed down. No clouds in the sky to block the first signs of sunburn needling my ears and neck, despite generous application of sunscreen.
“No kiddin’,” I said. “How much further?”
“No clue. Why don’t you ask her?” She motioned her head toward the Captain, standing toward the bow. At the thought of speaking to her, my heart palpitated at a brisk pace.
Everything about her was hard. Hard eyes, set in a craggy sun-scorched face. Rigid cracked (rarely flexing) lips. Shoulders shaped like boulders sat sculpted to a manly base. I had only heard her speak single words in Japanglish since we departed Kouri Island. Though she was half my height, her vehicle-solid shadow swallowed mine like a secret shrine tucked away in a deep Okinawan wood. She’d told us her name at the port, but I couldn’t remember it. So “Captain” it was.
When I approached, the boat lurched, and I staggered to the side. Captain about-faced, then strode past me in stomps toward the main cabin. Once in place, she was a master chef in a gleaming studio kitchen. Everything was automatic and effortless. Eyes up, down. Pull this, steer that. Check. Check. Triple check. More steering and peering out. Then the bouncing stopped. We stabilized. My stomach immediately relaxed. But I noticed a patch of gray clouds slide into the sky on our new course.
“Whew, what a ride! Got my heart pumpin’ for sure!” Yumi said.
“I’m just glad it’s smooth… for now at least.”
“C’mon we’d better get our gear ready.”
I nodded then headed to the middle of the boat. There Agent Tamm and Yumi prepared their tanks.
“A gate in the middle of the Pacific at a famous shipwreck? These demons are crueler than I thought. But at least they’ve got imagination,” Yumi remarked.
She slipped on her black buoyancy control device (BCD). The sound of her zipper hit my ears with surprising clarity.
“Sure makes for an adventure though, right?” It was Agent Tamm. His mirthful eyes misted in the sea breeze. They reminded me of James when we’d first gotten together. James.
Yumi stole clandestine glances at him while a shirtless Tamm pulled on his wetsuit. I wondered if she had a thing for him. If I was less sick or stressed, I might’ve asked.
“Are you good?” Yumi asked.
I let out a sigh. “Yeah, just worried about the others. Couldn’t get a damn signal before we took off.”
Yumi placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll be alright. They’re tough. Plus, they have that other agent with them, uh, what was her name again?”
“Her name’s Freya,” Agent Tamm said.
“Oh yeah, thanks ‘Tammy’!”
Tammy? A nickname? Yeah she’s into him.
He laughed with exuberance. “You can call me Nigel. When’s the last time you two dove?”
I cocked my head, “It’s been a while, maybe I did it in Mexico about four years ago, then once when we first got on island.” I turned my head toward Yumi.
“Last weekend! I dove Aguni. That Trevally tornado was something else.”
“Perfect, perfect.” The way he fixed, fastened, and snapped his equipment together filled me with self-loathing. Everything was easy efficiency. Customized, ordered, clean (exactly what mine wasn’t) illustrated his gear arrangement. His easy-going sea-sprayed complexion matched the way he put it all together. I was glad to be working with him, instead of his abrasive colleague.
“What about you, Tammy—I mean Nigel.”
He smiled as he shoved his heel into his boot. “I’m rescue diver certified. Hopefully, nobody needs saving this afternoon.”
His comment made me imagine a worst-case scenario: regulator failure, sucking for air, only getting water, bloated body floating to the surface like a balloon lost to the blue. I recalled the nightmare of the underwater supergiant figure from when I picked up James from the airport… for the last time. Near drowning, I watched, awestruck, as it rose from pitch-black cracks of submerged earth: smooth human-shaped mass, enormous neck, no mouth, only two milky white orbs for eyes staring back. On his head, the demon with flaming hair, Ufuzatou (I now knew) rode atop. (Why? I had no idea.) Then I drowned. I hoped that vision didn’t play out today. I glanced at Yumi. Her face was snug in a diving hood that caused her cheeks to puff. Nigel’s benign comment seemed to have blown her good mood away in the wind behind us.
Nigel noted the vibe shift. He said, “I’ll go… check with Captain Marina-san to see how much further. Excuse me.” He stepped around us, then headed aft.
When he was out of earshot, Yumi pulled me in close. “Hey, how’re you feelin’ after you キスした locked lips with that demon?”
Without thinking, I brought a finger to my lower lip. A fishy odor followed the movement. “I feel… good. I feel like I have more energy. No more coughing fits. And I’m sleepin’ better than ever and…” My cheeks flushed red.
“And what?”
My toes curled in my boots. I whispered, “And I’m stronger. Hair’s thicker, boobs bigger…”
“Damn, it’s like that demon energy is some form of steroids or somethin’. What a deal!”
“But… there’s somethin’ weird happenin’.”
“Like what? He didn’t impregnate you or give you herpes or some other STD did he?”
I let out a laugh. “No, no, nothin’ like that. But it’s this odd feelin’ I get when I use the kama or think too hard about the demon power. There’s this… it’s a pressing sensation. It’s like somewhere on the far side of my psyche somethin’ is crying out for my attention. You know what I’m say’n?”
Yumi’s raised eyebrows paired with a flummoxed face told the tale. “No fucking clue.”
I slapped her arm playfully.
“But Z, I do know this island… she’s been looking for someone like you.”
I rubbed my hands on my wetsuit. “What do you mean?”
“The ‘Deliverer’, 橋様, I’ve heard it called. Every couple of centuries, the island picks someone to act as a medium between worlds. It’s not any ordinary person. It has to be somebody sensitive to her needs. A good student, who can communicate with both sides and handle the spiritual burden of her will.”
My pulse raced. “B-but, I’m just an mil spouse English teacher, who—”
I adjusted my position as the boat jumped a larger wave. Yumi gripped the side of the boat to brace herself. More metallic clouds shifted in the sky. This time they blotted out the sun. I welcomed the coolness.
“—who, well… I guess technically, I’m not one anymore.”
Yumi wore a sullen face.
“I don’t know why the island would choose me, an American outsider, to be the ‘Deliverer.’ Do you? As a noro, have you felt or seen anything?”
Her head angled as she pondered the question. “I haven’t, sorry. I’m like an Airman, I get information from on high, then I act, if I can. Most of the time it’s FYSA, though. Kinda a one-way exchange.”
“Oh.” I lowered my head.
She perceived my disappointment with her own version. More ocean slapped the hull of the boat as two white coastal birds flew gracefully overhead back in the direction we’d come from.
Then Yumi said, “Hey, what were you saying about the ‘pressing’ sensation that happens when you use your demon power? Tell me more.”
“Okay, well... oh yeah, have you ever had a dream that was so real you could see it, touch it, feel it?”
“Uh huh.”
“But by the time you wake up, you’re damned if you can remember the details?”
“Oh, it’s like that?”
“Exactly.”
“Soo, you think when you use Ufuzatou’s power that it’s pushing things out of your head?”
I shook my head. “I think the power is bringing somethin’ closer. But I have no idea what it is.”
Yumi blinked rapidly. Her grip on the boat’s side tightened.
“After losing first James, then Ethan, seeing Cyan’s reaction—”
“How’s she doing by the way?” Yumi asked.
I shook my head. “She hardly spoke when I took her home…”
“Not like her…”
I kept talking to prevent my throat from closing while thinking of all the things and people I’d lost. “I think… I think, why must we suffer like this? I did so many things right. I was kind, strong, at least as strong as I could be—faithful to my students, myself, and the Lord Almighty… well, at least I used to be a long time ago.”
Yumi’s depressed lips trembled.
“Why does it feel like I’m bein’ punished? Fightin’ a war I never enlisted in?”
She tugged me into a cleansing clench. “Z, you’re right! I don’t know why these terrible things keep happening. Or what this island wants with you, but I’ll be here for you until my last breath. Which is, hopefully, not today.” She let out an anxious laugh.
“Yumi… thanks.”
Then out of nowhere, I shoved her away with so much force she nearly tripped over her tank.
“Hey! Zena, what gives!?”
“S-so, c-cold. You, c-can’t get close…”
Nigel and Captain Marina hurried to the middle deck.
“Oh my God! Zena!”
A burst of winter expanded within me. Its cryo-cold constricted my skin. My breath came out as vapor. The sun was gone. Only wads of coal-toned clouds sailed low overhead. With effort I raised my hand and pointed back toward Okinawa.
“L-look!”
Yumi gasped. The great mass of the island vibrated on the sinking horizon. Our vessel wobbled from the aftershocks. Captain Marina rushed to the cabin and wrenched the wheel to keep it steady.
That’s when I saw small spikes rising from the surfaces. Their zombie-like emergence ruptured trees and reformed the landscape. Birds fled. Skies split. Rain dumped. Black. Inked air.
“Z, it’s just a small earthquake. Happens all the time here. No biggie,” Yumi said.
But that wasn’t all it was. Misery in the form of quaking emergency was a sign from the other side, where the other team was. In my mind’s eye, I saw her, Lily, but she wasn’t the same as when I’d last seen her at Camp Foster. I fell to my knees. My frigid frame warmed, but my reddening eyes burned.
“Oh God, no. No!”
Yumi knelt to get me up, but I didn’t move. “Z! What is it?”
“They sealed the fourth gate, but… Lily is dead!”
Chapter 62
A pit of 有罪 guilt opened beneath my feet. If I fell through the ship and into rolling sea, I would have let it sear my lungs until I drowned. A deserved death.
“I’m supposed to look out for them!” I choked out, my voice barely audible over the wind.
Yumi’s hand gripped my shoulder, steadying me as the boat rocked beneath our feet. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now bore into mine with a fierce intensity. I could see the struggle in her face, the desire to comfort me, warring with her own anguish.
“Z, how can you be sure she’s gone? Our phones don’t work out here,” she said. Her voice trembled despite her effort to appear calm. But I could hear the desperate hope beneath her words, pleading for me to be wrong.
I shuddered. Though my body temperature was normal again, remnants of the flash freeze remained
like frost following spring thaw. “I just know. There was a message from someone…”
“Who?” Yumi pressed.
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” Suddenly the urge to strip off my dive gear and throw myself overboard became an imperative. When my shoulder muscle twitched, Yumi’s hand clamped down. Without it there, who knows what I would have done. What will I tell her parents?
Nigel stepped closer as his eyebrows drew together. Despite the magnitude of the situation, his voice still carried its usual melodic cadence, just with greater sincerity. “Zena, take a deep breath. We’re all on edge out here. It’s easy for our minds to play tricks on us.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Whatever you sensed, we can’t do anything about it right now. We need to focus on our task out here.”
“Are you callin’ me a liar?”
He jolted back, hurt flashing across his face. “Not at all. But—"
“The dive site に着いた. Final checksをやれ,” Captain Marina said.
I took a deep, shaky breath to center myself. The cool, salty air filled my lungs, grounding me in the present moment. Nigel was right; we had a job to do. I couldn’t let my grief get in the way. Or to cause anyone else to die. With trembling hands, I began to double-check my gear.
As we prepared, Nigel’s voice took on a somber tone, though his words still carried a subtle rhythm. “Let me tell you a little about this dive site. The USS Emmons was an American destroyer, sunk during the Battle of Okinawa in 1945. Sixty sailors went down with her, their final resting place is these waters below. If there’s anywhere a supernatural gate might form, it’s here.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over us. “Our plan: we descend together over the ship’s bow. From there, we’ll have ten minutes at 130 feet to find and seal the gate. Keep your lights ready for signaling. Any questions?”
I shook my head, unable to form words. Lily.
Beside me, Yumi stood rigid, her jaw clenched tight, eyes fixed on the beating sea.
Above, the weather worsened. Typhoon-class clouds, low wisps of collected smoke, sped by in cottoned clumps. Even with the weight of my gear, wind gusts knocked me off balance while a steady drizzle tapped the backs of my hands. I pulled my gloves on. It was almost time.
Captain Marina emerged from the cabin, worry lining her weathered face. “Problem,” she announced.
We turned to follow her gaze toward the port side of the ship. About a baseball field’s distance away, two scintillating pillars of light rose from the dark blue surface, identical in brightness. The sight made me cease all movement.
Yumi voiced the question we were all thinking: “Two gates? Ah shit. How are we supposed to—”
“Hold on,” I said. There was a nudge in my head, then someone (something) spoke. I closed my eyes, brought my finger to my temple and listened. “It’s that voice again. The one that told… showed me Lily…”
“What’s it saying?” Nigel asked. His eyebrows elevated.
I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the ethereal whisper in my mind. “One is a false gate, the other is real,” I relayed. No one said anything over the swirling wind.
“A false gate? These demons suck,” Yumi said with rushed words. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
Nigel brought his hand to his chin as he processed the information. “That makes things tougher then. We’ll have to investigate both then—quick,” he said, his eyes flicking between the pillars. The boat tossed and turned beneath us. The sea grew more violent with each passing moment.
“Okay, new plan,” Nigel said, “We drop center of the wreck then split up. Yumi, you’re more experienced, so you check out the aft gate. Zena and I will head for the guns where the other gate is.”
My heart patted against my wetsuit. Yumi nodded grimly, “Guess I’ll go alone. In the middle of the storm... to what may or may not be a demon trap. Heh, great.”
Nigel returned an affable smile, “You’ll be fine. If you’re wrong, or if it looks to dangerous, just resurface.” He gave her a wink. Yumi raised her hand to her chest, swooning.
Then the concern came back. “And if the gate takes me somewhere I don’t know or don’t want to be…”
Nigel and I exchanged uncertain glances. Then he looked into her eyes with that amiable twinkle and said, “You know why I took this assignment? Because when I was a kid, I heard a lot of ghost stories in Estonia, where I grew up. I used to imagine they might be real. Then, my Dad died in a ski accident, a year after I left home.”
My face wrinkled, “Sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah,” Yumi said.
He shook his head, “It’s okay, it was a long time ago... But after it happened, even for many years, night after night, I imagined him speaking to me in dreams or other off moments. But I told myself it wasn’t real, just my mind playing tricks. I told myself I was crazy and denied, denied—lying to myself. That was until your case came across my desk. I heard him again on the night after we talked to you, after the fire at school. It was then, that I knew, I was meant to be on this case. To believe in him. Whether others thought it was crazy or not, I didn’t care.”
Yumi looked at me with a restless stance. “So, uh Tammy what does that have to do with me possibly swimming into the wrong gate and dying a horrible drowning death.”
He chuckled as he readied his goggles. “It means, you’ll end up where you’re supposed to end up. I’m positive about that.”
「何それ!? 」I heard Captain Marina shout Japanese from the cabin.
That’s when I saw it. From the roiling sea rose a giant smooth round bump. The mass displaced great waves of water as a pair of pearl-ellipsed eyes plastered to a tenebrous face came out. The man, no—creature or spirit?—had no method of speech. Just darkness in the blank black where a mouth should have been. The colossal neck, and sloping shoulders followed. Its night-waxed chest came next, followed by the rest of the torso. Completely emergent, it (he) towered at the height of a Hilton hotel. Its great arms hung loose, until a light cracked, causing me to step back in a hurry. I heard large heaves of water whooshing below. Like flying fish leaping at sunset, the sploshes came in a hurry. First a dozen smaller ones, then they became larger. Piece by piece, forgotten debris lifted from the depths, clothing the giant in a kind of ramshackle armor. It formed algae-puffed scaffolds, ladders, platforms, ropes, nets, and stairs on his arms and shoulders. At the top, a helmet resembling a mature mushroom, ripped and ragged, landed above. There seemed to be a rickety flight of stairs swinging like trapeze above the merciless ocean surface. My breath hitched while my hands quivered uncontrollably when it fixed its eyes on me, then began to lumber toward the boat.
“WATER GO!” Captain Marina yelled. She spun then fled to the cabin as rain pounded the deck.
Yumi was already suited up. With a short wave, she fell backwards right into the water. No holding back. Classic Yumi.
Nigel moved with practiced efficiency. He secured his mask and positioned his regulator. He flashed me a thumbs up. A gesture of reassurance that felt absurdly normal in this impossible situation. I gave a shaky signal in reply. We crab-walked to the edge, balancing against the rocking hull. One hand on my mask and regulator, the other gripping my harness, I turned, ready to tip backward into the void, while acutely aware of the titan’s ghostly eyes drawing ever closer. I glimpsed back and down.
Bad idea.
Higher, way higher, darker, a hundred times times worse than standing on a diving board at the local pool when I was nine. Heart near exploding, no time to think. Nigel plummets. I hear the hard splash.
My turn.
The pitching boat, insane wind, slashing rain threatened to shove me off unprepared.
You’ll end up where you’re supposed to end up. Believe it. Believe it!
Then three belly bursting breaths: One… two… three… lungs stretched to the limit. Lean back. Drop. Then a rush of air. I surrendered to the sea and gravity.
Chapter 63
Cold 寒さ hit first. It compressed my wetsuit and all its contents with brutal indifference. The reaction was immediate. Goosebumps erupted across my arms, face tingled itchiness, my breath came out in pants.
I checked my air.
It was already down by ten percent.
Gotta calm down.
Nigel blinked his flashlight. A sign to follow him deeper.
Yumi was already ahead at a greater depth.
I worked to balance myself in the whirling current. Our position a few kilometers off the coast of 古宇利島 Kouri Island, as well as the dark giant’s legs moving toward us like two California redwoods, made it difficult to prevent from spinning. My abs burned from exertion and I’d only been under for a minute.
I blocked out the two shadowy pillars in the murky distance and concentrated on a controlled descent. Diving basics came back in blurry memory.
The light dimmed above as I went further. I clicked on my light to let it guide me. But in the second it took to shine down, sudden darkness slid over like a shut sunroof. I inclined my head. The suppressed scream released a stream of bubbles toward the surface.
The palm of an enormous hand swiped in silence toward me. If it caught me, I’d be crushed like the hundreds of ants I’d murdered with extreme prejudice throughout my life.
Rapid blinks flickered from below. Down now.
Against all sense and dive safety, I spun toward the deep blue and kicked with fury. I kicked until my calf cramped. Even then I kicked more through muscle clenching pain.
Only when the wave pushed me closer to Nigel did I know I was safe. The hand missed.
My breathing was out of control again. Air down another ten percent. The increased pressure made my heart and lungs battle for space like two siblings cramped in the backseat on an impossibly long road trip. I worked to calm down. Nigel stopped to give me an okay sign. I returned it, but realized my fingers were going numb.
Meanwhile the black mass ceased its movement.
Why'd it stop?
I referenced my dive computer: depth? One hundred feet. Almost there. Then I saw the beam of Nigel’s light waving. He pointed. The wreck came into view.
It rested on its starboard side like a collapsed metal whale carcass. Overgrown with coral, barnacles and clinging seaweed it had become a part of the ocean. What had been a home for sixty American and five Japanese servicemembers was now occupied by dozens of fish species and other aquatic life. It was a tomb; normally a tranquil place of eternal slumber for those who lost their lives in that bloody contest for Okinawa, now converted into the site of a supernatural Brobdingnagian titan. As I took it in, Nigel pointed in the direction of the ship’s enormous gun. On the opposite end, Yumi moved, seemingly with ease, toward the rear of the boat.
The twin gates shimmered waves of unearthly ivory light in the water. How will we seal them from down here? I reminded myself to worry about one thing at a time.
Air check: down to half.
The realization spiked my heart rate which quickened my breathing. Breathing too much hastened my heart rate. I was stuck in a potentially deadly spiral of anxiety. Soon full panic might set in.
Fortunately, we’d reached ship depth. Nigel made a rapid walking motion with his fingers while holding them horizontally.
It was time to swim again—hard.
Kick, kick, kick—with every thrust I inched closer to the goal, but the current denied my progress. Soon I was washed back to the start. Anxious frustration eclipsed my senses. Nigel had made progress, but he let the current carry him back beside me.
Dive time? Six minutes.
After another surge of adrenaline raised my vitals to new extremes, I glanced up. The great hand was back, hovering like a UFO with a clenched fist, blacking out the scant sky. Then the hand opened. An assorted collection of tetanus-inflicting, impaling debris rained down as if a scrap truck had reversed off a boat. Rebar, railings, PET bottles, screws, knives, nails, even rusted ship parts began their gentle, inevitable water-buffered fall toward us.
Bubbles flew from Nigel’s mask as realized the danger. He thrashed forward, but the current pulled him back. I could see him breathing hard.
I wasn’t doing much better. Legs cramping, breath rapid and uneven, getting to the gate was going to be very difficult. I glanced back at Yumi near the back of the boat. With seemingly little effort she reached the gate and vanished in a white snap. A stab of jealousy at her comfort in the water piled on to the rest of my problems.
Death debris fell nearer.
Air? Twenty percent.
This is where I die.
But a voice echoed in my head: “Do you want to live?”
What?
Do. You. Want. To. Live?
God yes! I have to!
Then KICK!
But, but I’m so tired… I don’t know if I can do it anymore.
Then you will die.
No, I don’t want to. There’s so much I hav’ta fix.
Then KICK!
I’ll try.
I kicked as hard as I could. Kick, kick, kick. The current shoved from ahead. Sharp death closed in from above. I resumed. But this time things cleared. My foggy vision focused, lungs and heart relaxed, cramped calves smoothed, body temperature rose. Soon I was twisting and gliding through the unendurable current. Envigored with demonic power, I hooked my arm under Nigel’s as I pulled him closer to the gate.
Almost… there.
Then a slice of pain nearly stopped my progress. The junk heap hit with groaning scraping sounds. The underwater storm of steel and scrap clawed at the dead hulk of the vessel. A muted thud followed the push of water that propelled us forward. It was the last sound I heard before a white flash enveloped my senses.
Chapter 64
When I opened my eyes, I was cold again, but it wasn’t in the icy 握り grip of the ocean. Rain pelted my face, wind whipped through my hair, carrying the acrid scent of ozone—something ancient and decaying. I blinked, disoriented. I was in different clothes. How did I change? The rental wetsuit was gone. Replaced by the light pants, shirt, and jacket I’d worn on the boat. Yumi was nowhere in sight.
I looked over to Nigel. He seemed just as baffled by his mysterious wardrobe change.
“We’re in the air!” Nigel said.
Scanning frantically, I took in my new reality with slackjawed disbelief. We stood on a small platform, a rusty railing our only protection from a hundred-foot drop to whisking waters. As I turned, my shoulder brushed against what I thought was a wall. It wasn’t. The black surface next to me pulsed with warmth. Living flesh. We’re on the titan.
Metallic torquing whined close by as if a metal chair was being dragged across concrete.
“Zena, get back!” Nigel yanked me back just as part of the railing snapped then plummeted into the sea.
“Thanks for that,” I said, as I stood with wobbly legs.
Nigel investigated the path ahead. He shouted above the crazy winds, “Zena, you ready to—”
CLIMB! A voice commanded in my head. The same one from the water. Had I heard it before today?
I spotted a corroded ladder leading to another platform about fifteen feet above us. As I hesitated, wrestling with a surge of vertigo, Nigel called out, “Zena, look!”
The colossal demon towered over our boat. Captain Marina stood on the deck, a defiant speck against the monster’s mass. With deliberate slowness, the giant cupped its hands, scooped up seawater, and released a deluge onto the deck. The crash of water was deafening. Lightheaded at the sight, I tottered from my helpless height.
Captain Marina disappeared into the cabin, emerging moments later with an orange bucket. She furiously bailed water. For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of familiar dark hair—Yumi?—but it was gone before I could be sure.
“This is no good!” Nigel said. “What do we—”
“We have to climb,” I said. I gripped the ladder. The metal was slick and cold. I refused to look at was under my hand.
“Okay, you go first. It doesn’t look like this sea junk will hold much weight.”
I returned a quick nod, then pulled myself up.
What followed was a nightmare obstacle course up the titan’s arm.
The first challenge was a series of fraying ropes strung between jutting bones that looked like abstract sculptures. I gripped the coarse fibers, my palms burning as I inched forward. The rope swayed violently in the wind, threatening to buck me off with each gust.
“Don’t look down! I’m right behind you!” Nigel called from behind.
But of course, I looked. Pure ocean stared back. Washing water seemed to slurp hungrily, ready to swallow us whole. My stomach lurched, and I forced myself to focus on the next handhold. Don’t think about falling. Don’t think about anything else. Just move steady. You got this girl.
I exhaled deep only after Nigel stepped on second platform with me. We were even higher now.
The next obstacle made my mouth fall open.
A series of terrifyingly narrow ledges, barely wide enough for our feet, wrapped around the colossus’s arm to another unseen platform – I hoped.
“You ready?” Nigel asked. He had his hand up as a shield against the hard rain, but it wasn’t very effective.
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
Each step was a gamble. I pressed my body against the titan’s skin, feeling its animal heat through my soaked clothes as I went up and up. Partway across, a faint whisper entered my ears. Climb. I wasn’t alone.
“Zena, watch out!” Nigel’s warning came just as a piece of the ledge crumbled under my foot. I sprung forward right before gravity pulled it away. That made the traversal harder for him. But his longer legs allowed him to pass over it without much trouble.
“Craziest obstacle course I’ve ever done,” he breathed heavily.
But our respite was short-lived. The creaking groan of the titan bending down snapped us back to alertness. The sound shook my bones.
“It’s gonna drop more water on the boat!” I yelled.
Nigel produced his dive knife. With a grunting thrust, he stabbed the flesh of the creature.
There was a pitched scream that echoed around us. An animalistic moan, as deep as a large dog howling, rang out. I covered my ears, then among the raindrops, glimpsed a slab of darkness heading for us. “It’s the other hand!”
We scrambled back to the last obstacle just before a palm the size of a house roof impacted the shoulder with an extravagant clap. The force of it nearly knocked us off our feet.
CLIMB! The voice called again, more insistent this time. It seemed to resonate with the whispers from the titan’s flesh.
We ascended the final staircase, a half-attached fire escape type with metallic steps. Nothing below it but a long drop to death by sea splat. I went first. I got three quarters up when I heard brittle metal deflecting. Panicked, I dashed to the top, awash with relief after making it up.
“Nigel, come on!” I called back.
He braced himself, a look of grim determination on his face. The beast was bending down to scoop more water. Instead of moving, he used the knife on the same wound as before. A piercing wail pulsed in my ears. “Nigel, now, you have to!”
A giant shadow formed. Then the hand came again. Nigel blew out a breath then bounded up the stairs three at a time. His hand landed. The stairs snapped. Nigel dove for the final platform. He didn’t make it. Dangling hundreds of feet over open water, he hyperventilated.
“Zena, p-pull me up!” he yelled. Evident panic in his voice caused my muscles to tense.
I grabbed him by the back of his jacket. It slipped. “Ah!” Nigel screamed.
I huffed frustration and tried again. I planted my feet, clasped his wrists, then pulled with all my strength. No budge. He was too heavy. My feet began to slip on the wet platform. I can’t do this. I’m not… strong enough. Stop it, Zena! Pull him! No, no, no. I can’t let him fall. I can’t lose anyone else. I just can’t.
Then the voice came again: Do you want to save him?
Yes! Yes! Of course! Help me!
Sure.
In the next moment, my strength surged. It was liquid fire coursing through my veins; a power I’d never known before. Grunting loudly, I hailed him up with a definitive final pull.
Trembling from head to toe, on hands and knees, a breathless Nigel regarded me with an unsettled stare. “T-thank you, I don’t know how you… but... thank you.”
I patted him on the shoulder. An effort to reassure him as much as myself. “We gotta get up there.”
“Right,” he said as he rose to his feet.
From there we climbed a small staircase to the top of the helmet.
***
Sitting there alone, on a raised platform in the rain, was a lone monk. A wraith of a face and torn robes. The whispers I’d been hearing seemed to emanate from him, growing louder as we approached.
“You have come. I applaud your effort.”
Nigel pulled his knife. I wasted no time in summoning my kama. Mystic purple light smoked off the blade acting as a striking contrast to the gray sky.
“You’re controlling this thing?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Can you stop it?”
“I will. Please, do not harm this 海坊主.”
“The rare sea monk youkai, Umi Bouzu, it’s real...” Nigel whispered.
Suddenly the giant dumped the scoop of water back into the ocean. It stopped harassing the boat, then stood motionless. The crash of water sounded like a waterfall pulverizing large rocks.
The seated monk spoke. “You should listen to—”
“Why did you attack us?”
“To test your endurance. You passed.”
My guard was still up. “What happened to Yumi?”
“She may be still alive. I don’t know.” There was something in his tone, a hint of... amusement? Knowledge? I couldn’t tell.
I became more frustrated, something inside of me was losing control. “She’s dead! Just like the others! Did you take her soul?”
“I can see he has you. It’s in your eyes.”
“My, my eyes?” I blinked rapidly, suddenly aware of a strange tingling sensation behind them.
The monk stood. “Zena Marlowe, I am your ally.”
Ally? A demon? I recalled our encounter with Anu at Kadena Marina. How he’d lured Tengo into a trap. What if this was the same play, different demon?
Brandishing the kama, I said, “You’re lying! I’ve seen this shit before!”
“I assure you I am not. Would you like to speak with James again?”
James. My James. My quivering blade hand sagged.
The monk said, “Ethan and Lily, too. I can tell you how to communicate with them. Will you listen to what I have to say?”
Nigel kept his knife pointed, even though it would probably be useless against this threat. I considered his proposal. Listen or take chances with fighting this old monk? The rain had let up but continued to fall at a constant rate. Frozen, that’s what the sea monk appeared to be – for now. Our boat was a speck floating in its gigantic shadow. I couldn’t risk it. No more death because of me. I gestured for Nigel to lower his knife. The kama disappeared from my hands.
“Okay, I’ll listen.”
“Excellent. I knew you were wise.”
“For too long, うふざとう has been lord of the Ancient Lands. I represent a faction of reformers who oppose him.”
I eyed him with suspicion. “Reformers? For the Ancient Lands?”
“Yes. Zena, you have been unwittingly thrust into a war that has been brewing for millenia. The truth is parts of the Ancient Lands have become a hellscape under うふざとう’s rule. When he conquered most of the land there, he expanded to the human world. Your world.”
My heart thumped fast. “And what about the gates? How do they factor in?”
“They are doorways between our world corrupted by Ufuzatou’s curse. I have tried to hide them from him by using my own power, but I must regain my strength daily in order to keep them hidden.”
“That’s why they only open at certain times,” Nigel said with wonder, his earlier fear giving way to fascination.
“Yes. When the gates opened suddenly, many of us Ancient Ones were pulled unwillingly from our homes and families. The gates are our only way home.”
I thought of the kama. “You mean… all this time, I’ve been cutting off your only way back?” The rain slid down my cheek. I tasted salty liquid.
“You did not know. You also did not know every gate sealed feeds his power and tightens his hold on his acolytes…” He eyed me with pity. I thought of my sinking Soul Gauge score. After closing the third gate it sank to 44%. Me... one of his acolytes. Bile burned at the back of my throat at the thought.
“Furthermore, you did not know, the gate crest for this gate – The Gate of Endurance – lies within my heart. If I die, the gate will be sealed.”
Nigel glanced at me bewildered. “You mean, I hav’ta…”
“Yes. Kill me and you’ll close the gate.”
Conflicting emotions seized my mind, I didn’t move for fear of making a terrible mistake. “But you won’t be able to go home…”
“That’s right. Now draw your kama.”
He held out his hand like Ironman would shoot a power beam.
“What are you—!?” Then the tug hit me from deep within. Purple light flashed, a tremor ran down my arm. One second my hand was empty, then in a blink, I tightly clutched the blazing blade.
“How? How did you do that?” My shaky voice surprised me.
“I, Master Orlay, as leader of the reformers can manipulate mabui.”
“The titan… so that’s how you controlled it…” Nigel said.
Orlay? That name. The Nobusuma’s dying words echoed in my head:
More power to the true King, Orlay...
“It’s you. The one Nobusuma talked about!”
“Precisely. And his loyalty will not be forgotten.”
“But, but you can’t die. The other Ancient Ones need you!”
He laughed. “Perhaps they did. But that time has passed. Before, I hoped to keep the gates open. However, the situation changed.”
“Why?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. As you’ve grown in strength and confidence, I saw an opportunity to finally destroy うふざとう and bring peace to the Ancient Lands. I believe you have the power to do it, 橋様.”
Destroy, Ufuzatou? The ten-foot tall, fire-haired black skinned demon lord, with judo super powers?
I glanced at the kama. Could I actually do it?
“But… he’s too strong. I’m only—”
“A human? Your kind has dominated this planet. From jungle canopies to distant cosmos, I’ve seen what you are capable of.”
I lowered my head. “But we…”
“…are not perfect? No species is. Even Ancient Ones, squabble and scheme. You have うふざとうas evidence of that.”
Tengo’s words about the legend rushed back into my head:
Angered, he invited the others to a celebration of friendship where he deceived them by poisoning their drinks.
Orlay went on.
“But we aim for stasis. An infinite picture of eternity. Humans always aim for more. Through misery mired in conflict or earth withering struggle, ever teetering on the edge of self-destruction, the story of humanity shapes this universe. Should we Ancient Ones not strive for the same? I have learned much from you. うふざとう has as well.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to kill you… wait, what are you doing?”
The monk walked over, and in a sudden motion gripped my arm and slit his stomach open. So eviscerated, he slumped to the surface.
I screamed. “No! Why?”
“Zena, you must understand some things are greater than us. I… I have seen your heart and strength. There still may be enough of you remaining to stop うふざとう and bring peace to our… worlds. Come near…”
He reached out his hand and touched my forehead. Amid the cold rain and biting wind, a warm light filled me deep within. The whispers peaked, then suddenly fell silent.
“That should help. With “Spirit Service” you will be able to communicate with… (he coughed) active spirits, but only if you drink a certain substance. I’ll tell you now… come near.”
He whispered something in my ear.
My eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Ha ha, oh yes…”
The gate began flashing below in the water. The pillar of light was waning.
“One final thing, Spirit Service will slow the deterioration of your soul… but you must be quick in your task, if not… you will be in his employ for… a very long time.”
My hands turned to ice at the revelation. “I-I understand.”
“I will use the last of my power to send you back to your boat. Now go!”
Then a light flashed, and the scene went white.
Chapter 65
“信じられない! I can’t believe you did that! You were really up there. And I thought summiting Kilimanjaro was nuts. I could see the fuckin’ curve of the Earth. I was freezing my tits off, shivering cold. But it was enchanting—I was at the top of the world. But you, you and Tammy, er Nigel, my bad, had to go climb the giant. You’re a certified badass, Z!” Yumi said.
Though the evening sunset burned her bikini-topped back, the Highball (straight, on the rocks) burned better. She took another deep swig. The liquor left a pleasant sting as it streaked down her throat. A stark contrast to the memory of cold seawater filling her lungs mere hours ago. Red cheeked and foreheaded, she was already feeling good and loose. “Woo! I’m alive! Feels so good to say that.”
Nigel raised a glass mug of foaming Asahi, “I’ll drink to that!”
“You got it Tammy!” They clinked glasses then downed half their drinks.
“And it’s all thanks to this special lady here,” Nigel said. He thrust his drink in Zena’s direction.
Yumi did the same. “A fuckin’ hero!”
Zena chuckled, “No way! I just did what I had to.”
“You make it sound so… so ordinary. But for real Z, we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” Yumi said in her most earnest tone. She gulped down the rest of her fourth, fifth, or, how many had she drunk? Lost count a while ago.
“Well I, wouldn’t have made it this far without your friendship.”
“Aw, don’t make my face any redder than it already is.”
“And Nigel, your diving expertise was the only reason we made it to the gate alive.”
Nigel bowed his head in reverence. “It was my honor to assist you Zena. I’ll never forget you for what you did.”
Yumi stood, leaned over to him and planted a wet kiss on his lips.
“Yumi!?” Zena exclaimed.
Nigel’s face lit up red. His lips curled into a silly smile.
“Just thanking him on your behalf,” she winked at him.
Nigel threw a playful wink back.
Yumi caught a glimpse of the horizon where the last streaks of sunlight painted the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. Suddenly, her vision blurred, and for a split second, she saw Zena standing atop a dark, twisted structure, her eyes glowing with a forbidding light. Yumi blinked hard to shake the image away. “Whoa, I think this drink is stronger than I thought,” she muttered.
She lifted her glass to examine it. Something wasn’t right—the drink was mostly melted ice. Dots of wetness dripped at her feet. Yumi threw up her hand 「すみません! ハイバールもう一つお願いします!」
“はい! はい!” A friendly woman’s voice responded.
“They must be makin’ these stronger than I thought,” Yumi said with a chuckle. But Zena wasn’t smiling. Her dinner: Okinawa soba, some fries, and now (probably) flat Orion beer, sat untouched. She just stared out toward the water.
The friendly waitress returned with a fresh drink. She was young, with smooth legs and bouncy hair in a bob. Probably an OIST co-ed. A pang of nostalgia for the body of her youth made Yumi flash a smile of sympathy at her.
“どうぞー!” The waitress said. She twirled then returned to the kitchen to retrieve another order.
Yumi watched her hips swing through the filled chairs and tables. “Ah to be twenty-something-fit and fuckable again…” she sighed.
Nigel crunched a piece of karaage and laughed.
Yumi frowned, while staring strongly at Zena. “Hey, Z, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food. I know you love Okinawa soba.”
Zena sighed, but didn’t say anything.
“C’mon Z. Lighten up. All this stuff with demons, Ancient Lands, and supernatural happenings can’t consume everything. Look around you,” she waved her drink around, “the sun and food are hot, people are laughing, smoking, and singing karaoke, badly, but still doing it! This is what living is about. And all I know is, I’m happy to be experiencing it again. Aren’t you?”
Zena nodded slowly, but her eyes remained distant. “Yeah, of course. It’s just...” She trailed off. Went back over the water.
“It’s changing everything… James, Ethan, Lily. Poor Cyan, she’s heartbroken. Tengo’s never been the same since that night. And the others are all in danger because of my ‘destiny’. One I still don’t completely understand. And now…” Zena dug in her pocket and produced the Space Force modified smartphone. She unlocked it and opened the “Soul Gauge” app.
Thirty-eight percent.
“Another ten percent drop today.”
Yumi’s heartbeat faster. She could feel it in her belly.
“What does it mean when it gets to zero?”
Nigel said, “I’m gonna go hit the john.” Then excused himself.
Zena exhaled heavy. “I don’t know exactly. But it’s a combination of losin’ my soul and becomin’ one of うふざとう’s demon servants… forever.”
Although alcohol flowed freely in her system, Yumi’s hands grew cold at Zena’s words.
No one spoke for a while. Low conversations, distant lapping water, and an amateur song contest from a much too trebled mini speaker surrounded Yumi’s thoughts.
“Only two nights til’ the solstice,” Zena said somberly.
Yumi drained the rest of her drink. Then stood. Nigel eyed her from across the restaurant, with a glint matching his grin. Oh yeah. Here we go.
“Two nights,” Yumi replied, “two nights to remind ourselves what we’re fighting for.” She touched Zena’s arm. “Don’t forget to do that for yourself, too. If anyone deserves to feel good after all this mess… it’s you.”
Zena returned her gaze with sparkling eyes, “I won’t. Thanks Yumi, for everything.”
“Oh come here and bring it in, Deliverer.” She outstretched her arms. Zena rose and embraced her. They shared a tight hug. Yumi rubbed her back. Zena gripped her tighter.
Yumi gave some space, then said, “We’ll get through this. And maybe save two worlds at the same time. ‘Ufu-hair-on-fire-za-tou’ won’t know what hit him.”
Zena giggled.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh in weeks,” Yumi commented. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nigel’s ripped back headed for the exit.
“It feels good to laugh,” Zena replied. Then she noticed Yumi’s wandering eyes and swaying stance. “Yumi! Are you?”
“Huh? Am I what?” Yumi said with an innocent smile.
“Are you drunk?”
“Yes. Very.”
Zena gave her a look as her mouth gaped open with an incredible smile.
“What? Don’t give me that teacher look.” She pointed at her friend.
Zena shook her head with a smile. “Call me if you need a ride.”
“Will do!” Yumi called from over shoulder as she snaked through the tables to the exit.
From the table she heard Zena say, “Make good choices!”
Yumi had made hers the moment she reached shore, alive.
***
That evening, Yumi lay in bed, her pulse still elevated, head swimming happy, after sex with Nigel. Though she had decades on him, he had experience, she had to admit. He also knew what he signed up for – a drunk one-night we’re not dead! fuck, or two. The guy was a complete gentleman. Had condoms ready and knew better than to ask to stay. Might have to get him on rotation. She snickered to herself.
Yumi closed her eyes to finally sleep.
But instantly another vision overtook her, more vivid than any before.
There was a sprawling city that seemed to blend ancient Ryukyuan architecture with modern structures. Impossible. Golden-roofed palaces spiraled into the sky, their shapes defying gravity. Streets paved with shimmering, opalescent stone wound between buildings that seemed to shift and breathe. At the center of it all stood an imposing building, its form a twisted, dark reflection of a restored Zakimi Castle.
And there, atop the highest tower, stood a figure that could only be Ufuzatou. His form was majestic. Radiating power ran from him in palpable waves. He looked out over his domain, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
The vision faded leaving Yumi gasping.
Two days until the solstice.
Chapter 66
うふざとうstrolled along cobbled streets. He would enjoy his walk today. Swirling Pacific breezes wafted from the sea; he allowed it in his nostrils, chin raised.
“Katsuren is lovely in early summer, isn’t it?” A curve-backed older woman commented. Her dress was typical of the era: flat shoes lashed together with straw, a deep blue robe with barely visible stripes; her blackened teeth showed happiness.
“It is. Are you headed home?”
She nodded. “Must return before the heat and the traffic.”
Traffic. That word seemed foreign here – a pointed fish bone in a bowl of soup. The only source was the great mass of bodies that flooded the markets during meal hours. There was nothing else that rolled, except for wood carts fixed with metal strips and the aquatic blue expanse’s incessant tumult.
“Enjoy your walk.” Ufuzatou bid her farewell then continued up the slope.
Katsuren Castle was situated on the Uruma Peninsula. Ideal, impregnable, the fortress was visible from most coastal vantage points in Uruma City. A vision of the might and wealth of the entire kingdom rivaling even Shuri in the south.
Ufuzatou’s great legs burned as he ascended with the sun. His thoughts were tranquil, until something caused him to halt.
It was a wavy window of air. His serenity began to slide at the sight of it.
“This… cannot be…”
At the top of the rise overlooking Nakagusuku Bay, he approached the disturbance. On one side (his side), a sunny day shone - clear, bright, and unbothered. On the other, the stench of modernity punched him in the nose. Choked traffic, hazy hot smog rising from coral-packed oil smothered streets, door slamming sliding open, unnatural chemical scents, women and men in offensive crooked styles of dress, necks hooked low at limited self-interest instead of out at the infinite, beep beep, songs shouting in mechanical loops from vehicles and every venue, but no voices to be seen rising above it all. Modernity’s beat metamorphosed into a strain-surfaced drum. One sharp strike would blow the whole thing open.
Disgusting.
“Débora! Victor!” He bellowed.
Two velvet-toned portals opened on both sides of him. Débora and Victor stepped on the overlook.
Victor stood surer than before, but the disquiet in his eyes betrayed the disdain beneath.
Débora held a strong posture. Everything about her was full, head to toe, front to back. This made the quaking uber-ambition in her small eyes that much more obvious.
Alone, both were weak. But they were a beneficial conduit to the society of his enemies. Ufuzatou had grown even taller and wider since their initial meeting. His worn robe fluttered, throwing a wall of a shadow over both of his servants.
“Report.”
Débora stepped forward. “With the fifth gate closed, we’ve been able to make contact with the Citadel as you asked.”
“Good. And the status of the Spirit Conclave?”
Victor crept ahead. “Well I… uh…”
「問題か?」
“No! No problem… well… there’s a matter of the guest list… I may or may not have forgotten to send it out.”
Débora faced him sharply, then stamped her foot. “Oh, Victor! How could you—”
Ufuzatou held up hand to silence her. Victor shook. Débora watched.
The demon king went to her, then wrapped his trunk of an arm around her waist. He tugged her close. The heat of her frame melted against his frigid skin. A seductive smirk rested on her lips. Out of the corner of Ufuzatou’s eye, Victor bristled like an angry cat. He nearly ran like one, too.
Locked on Victor’s eyes, with smoothness he planted a cold kiss on Débora’s lips. Her tongue licked his as fire and frost met in an extended interval at the nexus of the modern and ancient worlds. It went on for a degree of the sun’s arc, as long as he wanted, though her unbridled desire seemed as deep as the surrounding ocean.
Upon release, she sent languid dreamy-eyed blinks his way. She exhaled visible vapor from her mouth as she ran a finger over grinning lips.
“Victor, invite the guests.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“There must be no mistakes.” He eyed them both. “And what of Suu? What is his soul count?”
Débora said, “He’s collected one hundred forty-eight so far. Two more he’ll have the full set. But… there’s a problem.”
Ufuzatou’s forehead creased. 「おお?」
“Not all of the soul energy made it to the Resurrection Reservoir. I’ve checked many times. I don’t understand why…”
Ufuzatou thought for a pause. 「あいつどこか?」
Débora and Victor traded confused glances.
Ufuzatou’s chest rippled impatience. “Garappa!”
Another swirling energy doorway spiraled alive in front of him. The scaled humanoid creature slapped its webbed feet to the earth with squishing steps.
“Apologies Masster. I was partaking in a sswim. The ssea turtles are especially fresh this morning. Hehe.”
「うるせぇ!」
“Yess, my Lord. 何かお役に立てることはありますか？”
“You can assist by tracking Suu. He’s up to something… The soul count isn’t at quota.”
Garappa gave a curt bow. “How should I handle it?”
A single stroke of a finger accompanied by a flick of Ufuzatou’s eyes was all it took. Garappa grinned.
「かしこまりました」
In swift order, he slapped slimed hands the size of dinner plates to the bases of Victor and Débora’s necks. Soon their legs buckled and knees bent to the ground. Hot steam lifted airborne as they writhed moaning, screaming on hands and knees. After a few seconds of suffering sounds, their shadows curved to beastly proportions. Their backs humped, teeth sharpened, tails burst from their backsides. Feral claws replaced nails; palms of hands and feet became coarse pads. Eyebrows, necks, and upper lips sprouted bushy mane-textured fur. When the metamorphosis was complete, Ufuzatou sent a single nod of approval at his lieutenant’s work. Garappa marveled at his creations.
“Thiss is a more flattering form for you both. A true reflection of inner character.” The creature sniggered with an elevated chin.
Ufuzatou said, “Now, you will find Suu and bring him to me. Or perish, as the animals you’ve become.”
Chapter 67
A quiet car ride can be 洗浄することcleansing. (I usually find it that way.) This one was anything but, especially after everything I’d had to do today.
Telling families they’d lost a child wasn’t something school teachers normally did. That role was reserved for men in crisp uniforms, bearing an American flag in a tight triangular fold between their hands, a dour face as dowry to stand at the door. I’d viewed the scene countless times in the movies and on TV.
But nothing prepared you for it in reality. Telling a parent or guardian their son or daughter wasn’t coming home? It was stealing the shine from their eyes. I’d rather have my soul scraped a thousand times than witness the cloud of misery fall over another family.
I’d always been well-liked. In elementary school, I was a gold-star student. Me and a cohort of boys and girls were study-hards who always got our work done early. We’d speed through the assignments
then whisper read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone together. I was the leader of the pack.
In high school I was an athlete - a competitive hurdler. I liked it because practice went in brief bursts of activity. Short and sweet. My fellow jumpers and I hung with hoopers from our lousy basketball team. What they lacked in talent on the court, they more than made up for behind the bleachers, and under blankets in truckbeds beneath sun or stars. Those clumsy hands sent me to Heaven and back on the regular. Good times.
Later, in my teaching program, once again I’d been singled out early. Though I got dinged for often being too direct, my master teacher praised my leadership at the board and my instinct for instruction. I’d always enjoyed writing. I started up when mom died and never really quit. So naturally, I gravitated toward teaching English.
Learning the ins and outs of various pedagogical techniques was simple. Same with endurance; that’s a big part of doing the job well. Having the stamina to stand for hours, or deal with wayward students determined to challenge you in every way possible is something you either have the capacity for or don’t. It’s hard to acquire by other means. But I could handle all that.
The hardest part for me was being disliked. It was even tougher to swallow when there was no reason for their ill-will toward me.
“Monster” Marlowe, “Zero” Zena, were just two of the names that worked their way through the school rumor mill, via the infinite game of Telephone present at every school. Administrators, parents, and students – everyone except most other teachers – hate it when you have standards. My strict no late work policy, propensity to goose-egg any low quality or lack of effort in my classes, peppered my reputation as that bitch who’d tank your GPA, screw your summer, and get you kicked off sports teams.
Some peers disliked me for similar reasons. Because I never crumpled like a piece of paper caught in a downpour when subject to administrative pressure as most did.
Being reviled was a stab to my spirit, a bloodletting that healed no wound. Today, the familiar pang struck again. When I stood before Ethan’s father, his glare impaled me with a wall of spikes. Technically, I didn’t have to be there. The interim principal, along with several uniformed law enforcement Air Force representatives, the Wing Commander, and a stern-faced suit who represented the Space Force’s Department of Otherworldly Affairs, had all spoken with him at length about the nature of the tragedy.
His son was a “hero.” One who had put his life and future aside for country and “humanity’s sustained sovereignty.” None of it was an outright lie. However, it was far enough from the truth to cause me to avoid looking at that hard man in the eyes.
Have you ever seen a building implode? Strategically placed explosives pull it down in a controlled collapse, it’s ripping a bed sheet from a clothesline. Ethan’s dad’s eyes did that. Except the jaw was locked, fists cocked at his sides, shaking so bad that if I’d been a man, he would have laid me out cold; I know it. “Monster” Marlowe would have deserved every pricking stitch needed to sew the gash up.
Ethan’s memory whispered: It’s how he looks at me now. Like he’s kinda proud. That made me real happy. That’s cuz of you...
Lily’s mother showed less restraint. Upon recognizing my face, she slapped me with impenitent force—enough to send me wobbling off balance. Tooth-throbbing fire flared in my cheek. I swallowed hard, wiped wetness from both eyes, righted myself, then looked her in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Chang.”
Her glare speared tanning iron heat on thin skin. I held her mean look despite its blistering sizzle. Let it burn. Too dispirited to look away or beg for forgiveness (acceptance) I craved.
Then a scrawny young girl appeared from behind her leg. Her head swiveled left, right outside the door.
“媽, when’s Lily coming back?”
Her mother grabbed the paper from my hand and slammed the door in my face.
Lily’s last words to me floated by: if there’s anything you need to talk about... we’re all here… including me….
I rubbed my cheek as I took meandering steps back to my car. On the way, I pulled up the Soul Gauge app. Long thumb press. My heart drummed a sluggish rhythm as I waited for the analysis.
Thirty-three percent.
Even with Orlay’s “Spirit Service” delaying the inevitable, I had become two-thirds a demon.
I rubbed my cheek again, although the mouthbusting slap had happened hours before.
Seated in the car with Tengo, Rika, and Yumi, thoughts disordered as a kid’s playroom before naptime, I wore a woebegone expression while I stared at the back of the headrest.
Yumi placed a hand on my shoulder. “Z, don’t blame yourself. I’m… just as guilty. We all are.”
I returned a wisp of a smile, but it didn’t hold. Up front, Rika’s eyes were locked on the road ahead while Tengo napped soundlessly in the passenger seat.
Vehicles on Highway 58 moved at a routine leisurely pace. Unaware of the threat to their existence that, only I could stop. Orlay… The felled reformer’s words repeated in my head:
…you have been unwittingly thrust into a war that has been brewing for millennia…
…some things are greater than us…
…I believe you have the power to do it, 橋様…
Power? To kill an Ancient One? A demon king? I could barely get out of bed without tearfully staring at the wall for unknown intervals. Some Deliverer I am.
The procession of cars stacked near bumper-to-bumper leading south to the prefectural capital city, Naha.
Rika piloted the Boxy around the bus lanes, bicycles, and blocks of construction as the sun sank beyond the highest buildings on island.
“We should be arriving at the restaurant in about ten minutes,” Rika said.
My hands clenched.
“The sixth gate… Z…”
“What is it? Did you see any more flashes?”
Yumi shook her head. “Nothin’ new. Just the dream I told you about from last night. Heh, I used to dream of Shohei Ohtani batting me hard. Now it’s a demon king surrounded by twin dogs and a creature growling while holding a beer, standing in a corrupted version of Okinawa. After last night’s uh, “special liaison” I thought my dreams woulda been nicer.”
That got a slight smile out of me. I had a notion to ask how “relations” were with Nigel. But my conscience (or the devilish force whittling down my humanity like a spiritual belt sander) disallowed it. I just acknowledged with a half-nod.
“Z?” Yumi placed her hand on my elbow.
“Hmm?”
“Tell me to shut up of it’s too personal, but you mentioned you lost your mom young and your dad—”
“He walked out.”
“Yeah… uh, I was thinkin’ about the dream and what you said about the voice in your head that helped you save Tammy on the titan… do you think, your old man might still be out there somewhere?”
My pulse picked up as I considered her question. Rika took a smooth turn toward 国際通りor International Street, as the glow of the city came alive in the evening air.
“I’ve thought about it, the voice and him, I mean… it could also be Ufuzatou messin’ with my head or maybe… I’m just losin’ it because, because…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Yumi put her hand on mine. “We’ll find a way to keep you, you.”
I let out a large breath.
“Z… you’re not a monster.”
I raised my head to peer into her eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because in the eyes of a mother, no child is.”
Chapter 68
A tide of 旅客 tourists gathered on Kokusai Street. In the heated summer air, groups of various composition clogged the sidewalks in continuous motion. Stand still too long, you might get swept up by a distracted flock.
A group of Chinese travelers spoke at a drunk volume as they snapped pictures. Next to them, a middle-aged Japanese woman in a colorful island shirt waved a tiny flag as she walked backwards. A throng of gawking Korean visitors echoed her every step. Across the street, half a dozen muscled Americans, four young men and two women, spoke animatedly outside of a stall selling cheese-filled waffles in the shape of Japanese yen coins. Beside them, a flock of Japanese students dressed in body odor heightening layers; they laughed boisterously while hoisting Blue Seal ice cream cones dripping sticky globs onto their skirts and shoes. The atmosphere was overwhelmingly energetic. Made
more so by the competing music from the shops, signs, and screens advertising this food, that vacation, or another must-see event for island adventures. The sight of the circus made Victor squirm, but he couldn’t move. He only could view the spectacle from the waist down. Every itch or micromovement reminded him of their plight. When the sidewalk was clear for a second, he whispered:
“Débora?”
No reply.
“Débora, are you alright?”
“Oh, Victor, yes I’m as fine as I can be.”
“Look at us now, we’re Shisa statues stationed outside a restaurant. Can you believe it?”
“I can’t believe you’re still talking.”
“And I can’t believe you made out with him!”
“Oh Victor, let it go. Jealousy makes your hair fall out.”
Victor grumbled. “Well now we’ve really stepped in it. I-If we don’t bring this Suu guy to heel—”
“Yes, yes I know, we’ll be stuck like this forever. You’ve said it a hundred times already.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“What scares me is the possibility of spending an eternity listening to you whine. And… I do miss my body, it was so warm…”
“and soft…”
“fit and…”
“sexy as ever.”
“Still charming as a statue, eh Victor?” Débora let out a low giggle.
“Your heart is as hard as one.”
“Oh, I see your demi-demon status grew you a sense of humor. Bravo.”
Victor laughed. “Thank you.”
“Wait! I think it’s him,” Débora’s stone eyes rolled left and right. No one on the street noticed.
“What? Where!?”
“There, there! Wide gut, hairy legs, old White guy - looks like an American tourist. Do you see?”
“Débora, there’s a dozen folks who meet that description out here.”
“Do they all wear a single glove on the right hand?”
“Ah, I forgot about that detail.”
She laughed. “Oh, you’re hopeless. Where would you be without me?”
“Probably not stuck as a Shisa with his mouth open on the busiest street in Okinawa on a Wednesday night.”
“You remember the plan, right?”
“Of course. When Zena Marlowe and the others arrive, we wait awhile, then the countdown begins.”
“Perfect! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you. But what if we can’t do it? There’s a million ways things can go wrong.”
“Then prepare to spend a lifetime getting crapped on by birds... You’ve got one on you now.”
“I do!? Shoo! Shoo!”
“Victor, it can’t understand you.”
“Dammit!” Victor strained but nothing moved. “Is it gone?”
“Yes, but I can see the white in your eyes now. Are those tears Victor?”
“Oh you shut up.”
“Remember, we only get one transformation from statue form to get Suu.”
“I got it. What’s so special about this guy anyway?”
“I don’t know exactly, but he’s been working for Ufuzatou for a long time. Apparently, his job is to supply the souls that provide energy in the Ancient Lands.”
“Souls are like batteries there. Sounds pretty creepy.”
“I thought that at first, too. But the way he talks about it made me see it differently.”
“In what way?”
“He says beings in the Ancient Lands gladly give their essence for collective prosperity. It’s sort of an exchange. They get access to limitless energy to power their lives but give the light of their souls upon death. It’s a cycle. Like rain, to rivers, air to atmosphere, and round and round.”
“You make it sound, kind of beautiful.”
“Oh, you flatter me so!”
“I try…”
“Anyway, I heard him mention something else, about the process of harvesting souls.”
“What about it?”
“He said Suu calls it “soul scraping”—such an ugly term. But for him, it’s soul scanning. There’s a difference.”
“So you’re saying, even when souls are… harvested or scraped they still might be ‘alive’?”
“Something like that. But I’d rather not fail to find out.”
“Agreed.”
“Okay, the old man with the glove went in. Victor, get ready.”
“Got it. Countdown to our final battle begins now.”
Chapter 69
I’d never been to an 居酒屋 izakaya after sunset before. By day, they’re ordinary Japanese restaurants. However, when night falls, the energy rises, a dragging undercurrent. Between the current events blaring on a TV above a raucous bar, raised glasses, Japanese businessmen haw haw hawing in vapors of cigarette smoke, you could get carried away without caution. We’re here for the gate. Nothing else. I reminded myself as we stood in the entryway to check in.
「いってらっしゃい！何名様でございますか？」 the diminutive receptionist asked. He was a baldheaded older guy wearing a face glistening with sweat.
「4名です」Rika responded. My senses were flashing a warning while I scanned the environment. Something was off.
As soon as we found our seats, a sanshin player in the corner started plucking out a lively tune. Groups around the room sang along.
Yumi leaned in my ear, “The song’s called ‘Tinsagu nu Hana.’ Very famous here.”
I nodded an acknowledgement, demonstrating mild interest. The player was skilled, but I couldn’t bring myself to care much. Rika, aware of my somber mood, softened her face as if to say: it’s okay, then picked up a menu.
Tengo mouthed to words to the song. I could almost make out a smile on his face. “The sanshin player is pretty good,” he observed. His eyes lingering on the musician. “Though I’ve heard better at some of the smaller places in Naha.”
Rika slapped his arm, then abruptly slid a laminated menu in front of him. “We’re here for something important. Pay attention and order.”
Tengo reddened and did as told.
Yumi observed the interaction with wiggling eyebrows and a trembling lip. “Ready to order?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, but I had no hope of deciphering the Japanese menu, so I continued looking around. There was a table in the center of the room that got my attention. Drinking, laughing, and shouting was a group of Japanese professionals. My eyes were drawn to them like a magnet. What’s their deal?
Yumi spoke in my ear, “You know there’s English on the back, right?” She flipped the menu over in my hands.
“Oh. Thanks,” I said with little awareness.
“Z? What are you lookin’ at?” She lowered her voice and inclined closer.
“Them.”
Yumi glanced over and back. “Oh them? Just a bunch of drunk businesspeople. Happens every night, here.”
“Oh, I see.” I kept staring.
The group was a mix of men and women, all wearing colorful Kariyushi shirts and dress slacks.
“What are they doing?”
Yumi answered casually, “I don’t know exactly. Probably just some after-work gathering. A way to blow off steam after sitting in a stiff open office all day. They bow, clap, toast, and kiss each others’ asses all night. Everybody gets wasted, then goes to work and acts like nothing happened the next day.”
“Ah, I didn’t know.”
Rika said something about ordering. Tengo looked at me expectantly while stealing glances at the 三線 sanshin performer. At this point, Yumi seemed full-blown concerned, if not a little spooked.
“Something… wrong Z?”
“That guy over there… something about him feels familiar.”
“Which one?” Yumi asked, craning her neck to get a better look. I nodded towards the large man at the head of the table. He had a commanding presence and was likely the boss of the rowdy bunch.
Rika’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “I don’t recognize him,” she said quietly, “but there’s definitely something... off about him. We should keep our guard up.”
As she spoke, I noticed a subtle shimmer in the air around the man, like heat haze on a summer day. Alarm status: yellow.
Yumi tugged on my sleeve. “Let’s order something. Maybe you’ll feel better if you eat.” With effort, I tore my eyes away from the center table and nodded.
Minutes later, the food arrived – hot and aromatic.
The scent of goya champuru, fried potatoes, and vinegar-soaked cucumbers made my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was (though I didn’t feel like eating). But I forced myself to do it anyway, despite the sunbright status of my internal alarm.
“How is it?” Yumi asked.
I returned a thumbs up. Goya was bitter, but the butter made it tolerable.
Half the plate was gone, when I decided to go to work on the cucumbers. No sooner had I lifted a chopstick-sized piece to my mouth, all sound ceased.
The sanshin twanged mid-note. The server stopped on a heel. Wind from the air conditioner stalled. Only eyes moved. They swerved onto me, where they remained fixed. Gazes crawled over me. Dozens of toxic barbed centipedes roaming along, sickening with every scuttle was the sensation. Yumi and the others searched my expression, but only found pallid dismay. I had no idea what to say.
The bite of food in my mouth missed all taste buds, and I struggled to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. Alarm status: red.
“Zena Marlowe!”
It was the big man at the center table. The one I’d been fixated on. His voice bellowed baritone across the frozen room.
“Why don’t you and your friends join tables with ours? We’ve got business to discuss.”
As he spoke, the familiar feeling I’d had earlier intensified, morphing into a cold dread that settled in the pit of my stomach.
Yumi viewed him with indignation. Rika cast a stormy glance, while Tengo trembled already in motion to push the chairs together. This was it.
Reluctantly, I stood and helped push the tables. The air was invisible molasses. Nothing moved. Only the sound of wood sliding on wood filled the void. Stay calm. Stay calm.
As soon as our tables connected, the spell seemed to break. The activity of the izakaya rushed back in like a tidal wave, conversations resuming mid-sentence as if someone had pressed play on a paused movie.
I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden return to normalcy. A quick glance at my companions confirmed they felt it, too. Yumi’s eyes were wide with confusion, while Rika had a fierce face. Tengo was pale. He seemed to be no longer interested in the skilled plucking of the musician.
“Welcome Zena, my name is Mr. Riku and these are my associates.”
He waved his hand to our new tablemates.
Including him, there were five of them. He said their names, but the adrenaline swimming in my veins prevented me from committing them to memory. I sniffed a hint of dead fish coming from him. Alarm red. Alarm red.
“You want the sixth gate? I can help you reach it. But first you must do something for me.”
I felt Yumi tense beside me. Her hand brushed against mine in a silent warning.
“What’s the condition?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. Mr. Riku’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a bit too sharp.
“I challenge you to an Okinawan drinking game. Awamori relay. If you best me, I’ll give you the gate.”
Give me the gate? What does he mean?
“This will be a team event. My crew against yours. What do you say?” He had his meaty hands on the table when he said it. His toothy grin schwinged under the light.
I examined his crew. Three businessmen: one wide with grey-flecked hair (Salt N’ Peppa), another short and slight with squirrel eyes (Squirrel), a tanned guy with a surfer’s build with striking and jutting facial features (Surfer). The final was a paunchy woman with a puffy face (Puffy).
They have the advantage for sure. As I studied them, I noticed subtle oddities, the way their movements seemed too fluid, the unnatural stillness of their chests, as if they weren’t breathing. My unease deepened.
“I’d like time to consult with my team, if that’s okay.”
Mr. Riku nodded. “Sure. Decide quickly though. You don’t have much time left.”
At our table we huddled up. Nobody seemed to know what to say at first. I tongue swiped a wayward piece of goya from my teeth then asked, “What do y’all think?”
“We can take em’,” Yumi said, “I’ve been training for this my whole life.” She slapped her stomach.
“Rika?”
She said slowly, “I’ve played before. Back in college. But it’s been a while.” She glanced up at Mr. Riku and his team. “It’ll be difficult, but if it’s a chance for the gate then しょうがない. We don’t have a choice.”
I nodded firm. Then the three of us looked at Tengo. Can he even play?
As if reading my mind, Rika said, “Tengo, you shouldn’t participate. You’re still underage.”
Tengo looked sad. “But Rika how will you—”
“I said no,” Rika said firmly, “それにwe’ll need someone to get us home after this is over. It’s an important job. You’ll do it?” She looked in his eyes.
Tengo nodded in acceptance. Then Rika reached into her pocket and produced three small copper-colored cans. “Everyone drink one of these,” she said, her voice low and serious.
I took one, eyeing it with suspicion. “What is it?” I asked, turning the can over in my hand. The label was in all Japanese.
“A special drink that helps breakdown alcohol faster in your stomach. You’ll be able to drink longer and have a less severe hangover.”
“Good idea.” I twisted the cap, then downed the strange liquid in a long gulp. The taste was somewhat bitter with a slight cherry flavor. I smiled with gratitude at Rika’s foresight.
“Lawson’s to the rescue,” Yumi quipped.
“So how do we play this game?” I asked. “I haven’t played any drinking games in a long time.”
Rika explained, “We line up, and the first person pours a shot of 泡盛 awamori or another drink. They pass it down the line, and the last person drinks it and flips the glass. We keep going until we’ve finished all our shots or drinks. First team to finish wins.”
There was moisture building under my arms. The fate of Okinawa, perhaps the world, rested on our ability to outdrink a group of Japanese businesspeople. Absurd? Yes. Critical? Incredibly.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. Y’all ready?”
Yumi pumped a fist. Rika gave a sharp nod. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. My heart began to thunder ドキドキ as I stared Mr. Riku down. “We’re ready.”
Mr. Riku’s gaze went from me to Yumi, then Rika. After a second, he let out an explosion of successive laughs.
“Three little women against us? There’s little hope for you. This is for the gate and possibly the future of your world. Your very essence is at stake, and this is your team!? Why not just give up?” His followers reflected his sardonic laughs. As they laughed, I saw their faces distort for a split second, then snap back to focus. Alarm red.
I shook my head, appearing calm even though I was shaking. “We… we won’t back down!”
After everything we’d been through, James, Ethan, Lily… all the blood and loss. I couldn’t let it be for nothing. I was prepared to put my soul on the line for victory.
“I tell you what,” Mr. Riku continued, “I’ll take pity on you and sit two of mine out. That should make it more... interesting.” He waved a hand. “Yujo, Taira – you’re out.” Squirrel and Salt N’ Peppa lowered their heads but bowed with respect. That still left Riku himself, Surfer, and the woman built like a refrigerator, Puffy.
Everyone in the izakaya was watching this bizarre contest. Likely, none knew what the true wager was. There was hooting, 応援して, rowdy patrons shouting: ファイト! ファイト! in rousing anticipation.
Mr. Riku flashed that shark-toothed smile as the same attendant who seated us poured the first shots of alcohol.
The fate of my mission hung on this moment.
Alarm black.
Chapter 70
瓶Bottles ready. Crowd hyped. Dozens of voices bounced around the room – a blur of sound. The noise didn’t distract me. But there were two nagging thoughts that did.
First, Orlay’s words about Spirit Service: With “Spirit Service” you will be able to communicate with... active spirits, but only if you drink a certain substance.
When I remembered what he said, and thought of everyone I’d lost, a knot formed in my stomach. I still didn’t completely understand how it worked. But that didn’t matter. I just knew we had to win, and I needed that drink to use it. If that meant getting trashed in this bar, so be it. I mean, what would you do if given one more chance to speak to a loved one that’s passed on? What wouldn’t you do?
Second, among the uproarious spectators, I spied someone new. An older man in a buttoned tropical shirt. Protruding belly, white bearded,
shorts, hairy legs – an American ex-pat? What was he doing here? Between all the commotion, I thought he looked my way.
There was something familiar about him. “Who is—”
“Z! We’re starting!” Yumi shook me, forcing restraint on my curiosity.
Mr. Riku stood. In his business casual dress, loosened tie, white shirt, black slacks, he was the spitting image of a mob boss. He spread his arms to address the entire room as if a spotlight shone down on him, yellow flower petals floating to the floor around him, as if in a scene straight from an anime.
“みんなさん! Everyone, tonight’s contest is for fun. But also, for the future! It’s my associates and I versus this trio of lovely women. Let’s enjoy Awamori Relay!”
The whole place clapped and cheered. The sound reverberated off the wooden walls, almost deafening in its intensity.
“Are you ready Zena?” A sly grin formed on Mr. Riku’s face.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I am.”
“3... 2... 1... STAATO SHIMASU!”
Round 1 began.
I poured the shot then passed the clear liquid down the line. Yumi sent it to Rika, who threw her head back and swallowed. She grimaced after the gulp. Her face contorted in a way that made my own stomach churn in sympathy. The room erupted in cheers and applause.
The next one went to Yumi. She tossed it back, then slammed the sake glass upside down on the table. The sharp sound cut through the din of the izakaya. She opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue as proof of an empty drink. The whole room went crazy.
With a shaking hand, I poured myself a drink. When taking a shot of an unknown liquor, I know to hold my breath for a split second to spare myself of the stomach-turning smell. But I was so caught up in the moment I forgot the protocol. I got a whiff of it. Instantly, I wanted to cough, gag, and spit. This drink, though it appeared harmless as a slurp of water, smelled like floor cleaner. Pure poison. Was I really going to put this in my body? I hesitated. Across from me, Mr. Riku peered at me with red-faced amusement. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, an unorthodox amber color.
“What’s wrong Miss America? You’ve never had awamori before?” He said with stomach-jiggling laughter.
I shot him my most menacing glare and drained the shot. The potent burn burst warmth first in my throat then a second later in my near-empty belly. My stomach flexed as if a hard fist had been shoved into it. Unwittingly, I coughed several times as I supported myself on the table. The rough grain of the wood pressed into my palms. Yumi clapped my back with a volley of slaps. “You got it, Z! You got it!”
“But [cough] we lost that round…” I said regretfully.
“There’s always the next one.” Rika slurred the speech out. Her words restored a morsel of confidence.
Mr. Riku smirked. “So, there is some fight in you after all. I like your spirit. Prepare round 2!”
The attendant with the shaved head nearly tripped as he carried out two large bottles of Orion beer circled by glass mugs on a large black platter. He set it all down, then cracked the suds open. Escaping carbonation hissed out. He passed out six mugs, one for each of us. That glass bottle’ll be heavy to pour. I primed my muscles for action. The bottle teared on the table before me. We’d lost the first round (mostly because of me). We couldn’t afford another L.
ファイト! ファイト! Fight!
“STAATO!”
I swiped up the bottle then smoothly poured the beer. The foam rose quickly, threatening to spill over the rim. Don’t drop that shit. No alcohol abuse. Pass it smooth.
Me to Yumi. Yumi to Rika. She glugged it down quick, throat bouncing with every gulp. Rika finished. The crowd cheered, as Rika dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
Next, Yumi. She consumed her drink in a single long lung busting breath. Upon finishing, she slammed the mug so hard I feared it might shatter. The impact sent vibrations through the table.
I went next. Pour, pour. Now drink! With every bob of my esophagus, I felt fuller and fuller. A bout of nausea squeezed my insides. Glass drained, I set it down. The bald attendant pumped his fist. I let out an audible burp when I realized Mr. Riku was still drinking.
Yumi hopped on her toes. “Z! We won that round!” She raised her palm to me for a high-five. I clapped it back. Then she slapped me on the ass, screaming her heart out, making faces at our stank-faced opponents. Rika gripped Yumi’s arm as the three of us hopped up and down, hair flying ecstatic in our gush of happiness.
“Yeah we did!” I smirked as I swayed. The alcohol swam free in my veins as my vision fogged. Then a voice sounded: The next one is important. Stay alert. Pitched low, older, calmly intense - the same voice from the diving trial. What? Why now?
My brow folded in bewilderment. I swiveled my head around to search for the source. The room seemed to stretch and warp around me, the faces of the patrons blurring into indistinct shapes.
“Looks like the drinks have already gone to her head!” Mr. Riku mocked. His laughter had an otherworldly quality to it, almost like the growl of some feral beast.
“Z, you good? We gotta [hic] win this.” Yumi covered her mouth to conceal a follow up hiccup. Her eyes were glassy; her face Chinese wedding red, but I knew she was still ready to continue. Rika looked completely normal. But her usual straight demeanor angled slightly. Crooked, like a lovely museum piece disturbed by a clumsy docent. A rare, yet highly noticeable event.
“Prepare for Round 3! The final round!” Mr. Riku said with aplomb.
The sweaty attendant reappeared carrying two armfuls of tall silver cans. These were Lemon Strongs. The so called “tall boy.” At nine percent alcohol, this would be trouble. The cans gleamed unpropitiously in the low light.
My liquor-taxed heart galloped even faster upon seeing sinister cylinders. Spirit Service! This common Japanese drink, was the one a dying Master Orlay had whispered to me on the head of the demon colossus. But how do I talk to the dead, in a raucous bar, when I’m already three sheets to the wind?
“One each,” Mr. Riku said. A grin split his face while the attendant quickly placed one can in front of each of us. “You girls don’t look so well. I’m afraid, this round will be the end of you.”
I glanced down the line. Rika’s cheeks flared red. Her usually razor-sharp gaze dulled. Yumi, well, she was the same as always. But I wasn’t feeling too great. The strange mix of foreign alcohol stirred the contents of my gut into a bubbling witch’s brew. One misplaced potion might blow the whole thing up.
At that moment, the door to the izakaya swung open then closed, but no one walked in. A cold draft flew through the room, raising goosebumps on my arms. I rubbed my alcohol-sheened eyes for confirmation. What? It opened a second time, but again no one entered. Am I that drunk?
“Zena-san, are you ready for your final bout?” Mr. Riku said. His voice seemed to echo strangely, as if coming from deep underwater.
I turned my attention back to him, but out of the corner of my eye noticed the old ex-pat stand. What will happen when I drink the Strong Lemon? I hoped I wasn’t too inebriated to find out.
Then the room began to chant. 「いけ、いけ、いけ」 The patrons beat the tables and stomped the floor. The rhythmic pounding felt like it was inside my skull. The sanshin strummed a fast anticipatory riff, heightening the suspense.
“Ready? STAATO!”
I cracked the can closed my eyes and chugged.
「いけ、いけ、いけ」
Chug, chug, chug. I stopped to breathe. The can was half empty. Beside me Yumi’s drink was near vertical. Rika had spewed a good portion of hers on the table. She coughed hard gathering air back into her lungs. Across from me, our three opponents were still drinking. We can still win.
I inhaled an extended breath, then lifted the can to my lips. I felt as if I were underwater again. Heart pumping forcefully, barely able to breathe. But this time bolts of alcohol-streaked lightning struck my brain. The skin of my stomach stretched to previously unheard-of limits, creeping closer and closer to capacity with every swallow. The world around me began to blur and shift, faces in the crowd morphed into grotesque masks.
「いけ、いけ、いけ」
Finally, I shook the can with only drops left, then crushed it down on the table. The metallic crunch was satisfying under my fist. But it was too late. Mr. Riku folded his arms across his chest. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light. Those alligator incisors showed as he cast a jocular grin. “Looks like you lose. You’ll never get the gate now. Thanks for playing.”
“Hold it!” A young voice in the back said. For the second time, the whole place paused.
“T-Tengo?” I said puzzled, squinting through the haze of alcohol and mounting dread.
“Miss Marlowe we’ve been tricked. This man is... is a demon!”
Chapter 71
酔っぱらってしまったの時に When I’m wasted, everything runs at one and half times speed. The revved up velocity has a rollercoaster rush. DiZZying. G-n-ight, with spins, dives, and dips that turn the intestines. Only a solid grounding force can prevent me from whirling out of control. The moment Mr. Riku flipped the table became that sobering slap. Even the crash of splitting glass and tumbling dishes weren’t enough to slow time’s flow. Nor was it enough to prevent me from upchucking onto the floor. The rancid aftertaste of undigested drink and an acid-mashed partial meal coated my mouth like a film of cooking oil over a glass of curdled milk left out overnight. I wiped small clumps of vomit from my lips with one of Rika’s napkins, while breathing hard. As I cleaned myself up, the scene before me took shape.
Minutes prior, the surface beneath my feet was spotless. Now it was a landfill. Mashed cans, broken
glasses, and tossed chairs, lay in splashes of beer, liquor, and barf. The stench made my gut writhe in response. More tainted saliva rose in my mouth. I spat it out as if I had a ball of tobacco burning a hole on my cheek. I reached for a glass of water on the nearest upright table and took a few swallows. The cool liquid temporarily calmed my insides.
“Miss Marlowe, be careful!” Tengo said.
Through the alcoholic haze I added another sight to the list of unbelievable events I’d experienced in the last month.
Mr. Riku’s associates melted. Surfer, Squirrel, Salt N’ Peppa, and Puffy, all their faces dissolved in a reverberating cry of anguish so great the walls shook as if rocked by a high magnitude earthquake. The grotesque display played out fast. First skin, then muscles liquified, then ran in dripping globs down clumping clothes. They became human ice cream cones in the midday heat. Sticky pools formed below the bodies. In seconds, their garments flattened and oozed like a smashed Starburst forgotten in a back pocket, never to be consumed without shreds of paper in the sweet prize. When the flesh was all gone, no bones remained. Only dark shades with crimson eyes hovered where humans once sat.
I heard Rika draw a sharp breath, then shout, “Step back!”
I did. In fact, I performed an unstable hop to the rear that almost sent me to the fetid floor. Yumi caught me, just as Mr. Riku began his dark metamorphosis.
He didn’t melt. Instead, his face elongated. The eyes jaundiced then slanted into tight slits. His skin hardened. It went from a warm human tone to a waxy grit green—dirty and coarse. In my accelerated mind’s eye, the monster revealed itself into a familiar shape.
“I-it’s you,” I slurred, “Garappa.”
Through all this, the restaurant patrons didn’t move. They’d been so still, I thought the room was hexed by some manic magic. But at the sight of the lizard, everyone fled screaming. The four of us stared at the wraiths and the reptile as a patterned panic drove everyone to the exit. They screamed but moved in an ordered stream. This was still Japan after all.
My drunk mind bent in two. It was difficult to decide what to do first.
Yumi and Rika flanked me. Tengo stood close behind holding the Space Force demon phone up. To an outsider, he appeared to be filming the spectacle for viral glory on social media. But I knew better. He scanned the Garappa. The same demon that had lashed him to a stake and nearly claimed his young soul barely less than two weeks prior. The device trembled in his hands, but he held it up with an unflinching gaze.
Four floating spectres bobbed like buoys in front of me. Their ten-foot-tall reptilian boss nearly struck the low ceiling with his head. Behind me, in the now empty restaurant, only the old American ex-pat remained seated. He casually slurped what appeared to be a Coke, but it probably had something else in it because his face strained after a swallow of it. Why didn’t he evacuate?
Near the entrance was another odd sight. For some reason, two tree bark-toned Shisa statues sat blocking the exit. One had an open mouth, the other a closed one. Both wore feral smiles on their faces.
Who put those there? I hadn’t noticed them on the way in.
Meanwhile, a wordless standoff between us humans and demons began. Except this time, there were no drinks to deaden the danger. Before, we shared a single commonality: same species. Now only unrelated differences cracked my consciousness. Demon, human, statue, what was the difference? A spirit? A soul? Where did these thoughts come from? Why now? Must be the liquor talking. All the thoughts washed away when the Garappa spoke, with Shakespearean eloquence? I’m so fucked up.
“Ah Zena Marlowe, betwixt all you’ve encountered, your heroine’s heart hath captured my attention, though I’m loathe to admit. However, hence your true battle begins presently.”
“What are ya, ay talkin’ about?”
The creature thrust out a coin. “This coin will open the sixth gate. But you’ll need more than sstrength to open it.”
Then out of nowhere, one of the Shisas charged at him.
“Damn!” Garappa said. “I wass charged with the task of administering her. Not you two imbeciless!”
The coin fell to the floor then the one Shisa scooped it up. The gate coin sparkled in the kiln-baked clay face of the guard dog deity as it dashed backed to join its partner near the entrance. No hands, human or ghost could grab it in time. Safe, it spoke with a familiar voice.
“Thanks, Garappa. Ufuzatou will be very happy when we seal the gate.”
“Dr. Araújo?” I asked.
“Oh, Zena Marlowe, it’s good to see you again. Though I wish I’d fixed myself up better for this reunion. But there’s no time for pleasantries. It’s almost time for the gate to open.”
The coin began to flare with twisting black fire in her jaws.
Garappa hissed, “Débora, art thou mad?? Your job was Suu, not the gate. Masster will punish you for this foul offensse. Hand it back, now!”
“We won’t!” The second shisa said.
“Principal Kane? Is that you?” Tengo asked with more curiosity than fear.
The animal cleared his throat. “It is. We need this gate to be human again. And in our form, we’re the only ones that can open and seal it. SPEED is the name of the game! But first, I’ll take care of Zena Marlowe.”
Then he charged at me, teeth and claws extended. I reacted with a stumble to the side. Too slow to draw my weapon. He was close. Until in a flash, the old ex-pat was up then swatted him away with a hard backfist. I hadn’t noticed his single silver glove, but I was glad it was there.
“Stay away from her you dog,” he said.
Is that… the voice?
Victor turned growling low. “Damn you Suu! We’ll come back for you after the gate is settled.” With that, Victor and Débora fled from the bar.
“Blast!” Garappa said, “Go find them!” At his command, the four phantoms who had been our drinking opponents phased out of the room. With a final glare at me, Garappa swept his arm to open a swirling black portal then stepped through it. When it spun closed, he was gone. Only us: three intoxicated would-be heroes, a student, and an old stranger wearing a single glove, now inherited an abandoned bar.
Too many questions flooded my confused head.
“Who are—?”
“There’s no time now.” He consulted his glove. Two beacons of light ebbed over the surface, moving away fast. “I’ve got stun trackers on them. I can slow them down, but you need to hurry. Zena, can you run?”
I was unstable, light-headed, and more than befuddled by the last five minutes, but I nodded. “Yeah, I-I think so.”
The old ex-pat, the one Shisa Principal Kane had called “Suu”, stared into my face. Those eyes, so stern, yet relatable, reflected a burning hearth in their brilliance. I squinted through intoxication, then saw it. When I did, I retreated a step, speechless. “You’re—”
“Miss Marlowe! Let’s go catch up!” Tengo said excitedly.
“I’m not so drunk that I can’t run a little.” Rika dabbed at the sticky stains on her shirt with grace.
The retiree looked at us with admiration.
I murmured, “But, you—”
He cast a knowing look at me. “Zena, there’ll be time for questions later. Now, you’ll need to work together. Because they have the Gate of Speed. If they reach a sustained velocity of 5 kilometers per hour at the appointed time, the gate will open and you’ll miss your chance!”
Yumi, Rika, and Tengo were at the door. I walked over, but looked back.
“Z? We gotta go,” Yumi said.
“Right.”
I took a final look at the old man. Then shoved all the questions I had about him to the back of my mind for later.
Chapter 72
映画が噓をつく。The movies lie. A crowded street is the worst place to chase someone, especially when you’ve had a few drinks. The thought hit me after stepping through the portal the mysterious old man made for us.
Shisa Victor and Débora hadn’t made it very far. As promised, our grey-bearded benefactor zapped them with some doohickey from his glove. That stuck a stick in their spokes. It gave us time to spot them and sprint. Or jog. I’m not sure. It felt like I was moving fast. But the faces around me suggested otherwise. All I knew was we were catching up.
“Move it!” Yumi said as she shoved through packs of gawking tourists.
“They’re turning into the market!” I said pointing.
“Tengo! Go ahead, we’ll catch up! And be careful!” Rika said.
As the youngest and only sober one, Tengo was in the best position to catch up to them.
“On it!” he responded.
I could see Victor and Débora ahead. They weaved in and out of stores, tripping unsuspecting shoppers, leaving stalls in disarray, and ripping bloody gashes into the calves and shins of anyone who obstructed their rampage.
A group of top-heavy American guys with high-and-tights (probably U.S. Marines) attempted to corral them. But in the end, they were bested by the dual chucks of sculpted mud, speed, and the light in one of their jaws that grew larger with each step.
Yumi, Rika, and I gave chase. In the sticky night air, my heart worked double time. Processing the alcohol I’d dumped into my blood and the sudden physical activity simultaneously. Sweat became a friend again. Everything I wore clung to me. Damp. Clothes disturbed at unusual alignment as I ignored the discomfort to keep up. The smell of cooking oil at a nearby stall nearly made me hurl again. I let it out as I kept moving, causing onlookers of all nationalities to shuffle backward at the abhorrent act. There was no time for shame. We were catching up.
Tengo trailed them through the street pandemonium to a paid parking lot. Across the street was a GongCha bubble tea shop (one of Yumi’s favorites).
Cornered with nowhere to run, Tengo ran up close and snapped a demon-freezing photo.
“Victor! I can’t move!”
“Me neither Débora!”
With ease, Tengo plucked the gate coin from Shisa Débora.
“Miss Marlowe, I got it!” He waved it above his head. Jubilation lifted his sweat-glossed face. Then he tossed the cosmic coin toward me. Somehow, I caught it.
For the first time all evening stress relieving endorphins flooded my system. Time returned to its standard tick. A (relatively) cool breeze stroked my ear. All was well, until the next second stopped then spun the wheel of fate in the opposite direction.
“Tengo, no!” Rika shrieked.
In the beat of a breeze, the four specters appeared and skewered him from all cardinal directions.
Black spikes coated in blood extended through his flesh. Tengo wore a casual surprise on his face as warm blood bubbled from his lips. The smile slid to horror as he looked down and around. Four nightmarish pairs of glowing red eyes bored into his clouding field of vision. For the third time that day, my heart beat a broken lament. No… not him too. Murderous termites chewed another hole in my soul, leaving fine flesh strewn rotten around the hole. Failure, utter and epic, wrapped its hands around my neck and squeezed until a bruising ring like a black manacle constricted any airflow. I breathed as if locked underwater in a dunk tank, my only source of oxygen through a dented plastic straw, body clenching asphyxiation close and desirable. Yet, even death wouldn’t come. That was too easy. I stayed in voiceless contortion as I watched him die. Out of the box, Rika cried as she drew her salt-lined bo staff. Soon the enchanted kama was in my hands. I advanced like a nuclear submarine, quiet, speedy, deadly.
Garappa appeared, then pointed a scaled finger at me. Our ghostly enemies retracted their spiked blades from Tengo’s body. He fell face first into a red pool.
“Tengo!” I cried.
Then the four phantoms came gliding at me.
“Urrgh!”
Slash. Dive. Swing. Beat.
Even drunk, Rika and I made short work of them. Upon death, the phantoms released loud howls that attracted an even greater crowd of smartphone wielding bystanders.
Soon I heard helicopter blades whapping above. I craned my neck skyward. We’re on the news. Great.
Garappa prepared to lunge, but then the coin grew hot in my hand.
I let it go. Then the gate was open.
Before he could reach me. I stepped through to find a small enclosed room with an altar. The now common sight: a fisherman’s orb, suspended in a hard net, gleaming a smoky white grey, was there.
Without hesitation, I swung and shattered it. The air clipped, flashed, vacuumed causing my hair to flutter. I lifted my weapon arm as a shield, while deadly shards of crystal showered a passing spectrum of light as they fell to the ground.
White luminosity morphed into the spotlight of the helicopter. I was back among the chaos.
Garappa was gone. Débora and Victor, too.
Rika covered Tengo’s corpse with her sorrow-heavy body. Yumi controlled the crowd to little effect. Emergency vehicles swarmed, blared, and skidded onto the scene. I stood among it all. Stiff and ill.
Chapter 73
All 青春 adolescent cries sounded similar to Suu. They rang out at the frequency of a bird call. A strained trill. That warbling overtone cascading above a trembling based choke was macabre music. He never liked it. But it was as customary as a piano plinking behind a sorrowful melody. A reminder of the years he’d spent as a pup in Central Texas. Tengo let out a shriek from his dead tongue. Another slightsoul in pre-trial purgatory.
This was an unfortunate one. With only nose and ears to navigate the world, he couldn’t imagine what the kid was experiencing. The clipped view of the world likely wasn’t pleasant.
But did he even care? Maybe not anymore.
He’d been on the job so long, he had a rough immunity to the sordid circumstances of even the most innocent souls. This one was no different.
Terror-stricken cries turned to moans then weeping while Suu told the teen all the standard
lines: you’re dead, but not really, there’s a soul trial, read the reg line by line (no deviations), any questions? No? Do you want to take the trial?
The standard moment of silence came. By his watch, it always lasted at least thirty seconds. He counted. If he got a response in that time, they usually participated. However, if it went over a minute, they were done. Most of the time. Scrape soul. Onto the next. It was efficient. He’d been doing the job so long it was hard to think of it as anything other than manual labor. Garbage disposal without the smell.
A minute passed and there was still no reply from Tengo. The lack of speaking ability wasn’t helping. It was time for phase two of the process. Talk it out. This was one of the few parts he enjoyed. So what if the reg didn’t require it? If he were demon king for a day he’d rewrite that section. Put some humanity back into this horrible work. A personal touch on an impersonal procedure.
Another minute of quiet ticked by until Tengo shook his head. He didn’t want the soul trial.
“Why not?” Suu asked.
“Is it because you’re tired? At your age, how can that be?”
Tengo remained motionless.
“Or is it an abundance of fear? That would be understandable. In your state, only the most unfeeling felon would be free from it.”
The student replied with a negative headshake.
Suu paced. “I got it. You believe it is determined destiny. You evaded it once at the first gate. Now here you are again, except this time, not so lucky. You think this unavoidable scenario is the will of a divine force. A selection no different than birth. For you, the only way forward is complete submission to the final fate—no matter the effect, is that right?”
Tengo moaned. An affirmative signal came with minute movement.
Suu brought his hand to his chin. “I understand your thinking. I really do. I’ve had to accept many things about my life that were spiked with sin in the same way. It’s hard to do, especially for a kid like you.”
Tengo breathed sounds of low torture from his hanging lips.
“But let me ask you, will you decline your last appeal to destiny? Yes, certain things are outside of your influence, but this choice is not one of them. One move can alter the game. Why not see how a well-placed one might change the ending?”
Tengo gave no answer.
“I know life hasn’t been easy for you. Parents, school, and society have forced you to hide. I’ve read the file up and down. Your homosexuality, sense of deep faith in astrological science, hunger for relationships that never materialized in fixed form, have left your heart hollow. It breaks my heart to see it. But even now it’s not too late to fill it anew. What do you say?”
There always comes a point where Suu knew it was over. He’d said all he could, they heard all they would. Nothing else could be done. After that, the ultimate decision arrived. Often it was immediate. If it wasn’t, then he’d do his duty. The obligation he’d sworn to fulfill for even the slightest chance to realize his own goal. It was the only way to make amends or even correct his part in throwing everything into hellfire. In a long interval, the answer didn’t come.
This was fine. It was a private moment he shared with the afflicted spirit. Normally it should have been. But something was odd about this one. A second pair of eyes was in the area with him. He had no idea where, but they were there observing as if granted access to a dark orbed security camera. Watching and wondering behind curved glass was all they did. Would they come in? Tengo’s response made him drop the thought.
Yes, he’d undergo the soul trial.
When they changed their minds (especially because of his influence) genuine joy flamed in Suu’s old heart. Ah, that’s the spirit. No matter how bleak, you hav’ta fight.
With well-timed words, he’d done the equivalent of talking a man down from the precipice of demise. It was a flimsy flame of hope waving in the dark passages of his life. Alone, it was enough to return him to the sliver of humanity he hung onto like the last drop of desert water.
“Then Tengo, I wish you luck.”
The well-wishing was another personal touch. He’d added it to ease the awkwardness of the whole ordeal for himself and the slightsoul. The alternative was an unsignaled send to a mysterious stage where the low spirit’s last life might play out. That seemed too harsh. At least he could give them a friendly word before they disappeared into the labyrinth of themselves. This time it worked. Upon hearing the words, Tengo relaxed, then disappeared.
Then came the waiting. He was still there in the parking lot off of Kokusai Street. The confusion of the struggle for the sixth gate was over. Pedestrians moved by. People paid their parking fees, got in their cars, and drove off. Normal life resumed.
No one could see him there. Invisibility to humans was one of the blessings of full demonhood. The ability allowed him to move freely without concern. He never knew how long the trial would take. Could be as brief as an hour or drag on for a week. One took a month. It all depended on what the slightsoul needed to see or experience. He didn’t control that. It was way too far above his pay grade. So why worry about it?
Maybe there’s time for a drink and some yakitori. With a soul search beacon on Tengo, he could wander as far as he wanted. It would alert him when the trial was finished. Plus, he could teleport via the dark portal network (DPN). That meant he could cross vast distances in a snap. But given the lightning pace of the evening so far, he felt like walking. It would be nice to enjoy the city in an unhurried manner.
Suu stepped off. But as soon as he did, he heard a voice. One that hadn’t directly addressed him in many decades. His heart hammered. The one who’d been watching was here.
“It’s you again… been a long time… Papa.”
Chapter 74
Suu stopped 止ってしまった, then turned. The two of them stood among the bustle of the street for over half a minute. Both wore unsurprised neutrality on their faces, as if this impossible reunion had been an inevitability, long prophesized, enabled by destiny’s decision. Around them on Okinawa’s busiest street, lights, spectacle, the clustered masses did what they always did, but Zena and Suu occupied a separate plane of reality.
“Zena.”
“Papa. Or is it ‘Suu’ now?”
“Papa… is okay.”
Suu looked directly into her eyes. They were glossy from alcohol and lack of sleep. Her face shared his features: hard nose and lips, short ears, but soft blue gemed eyes—his eyes—shined back at him. He realized it had been a long time since he’d seen—really seen—her face. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman.”
“No thanks to you.”
Suu’s expression remained solid. “How are you able to see me?”
He had prepared for this moment countless times in his imagination, but now that it was here, he felt utterly unprepared. The weight of years of absence and unspoken words hung heavy between them.
“Spirit Service,” Zena replied tightly. “Orlay’s power. It lets me see and communicate with spirits.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Including deadbeat dads who abandoned their families.”
“I deserve that—”
“What happened to you? Where did you go?”
Suu’s face softened as he recounted his last memories of her before he left. He remembered that day all too well. It was offensive darkness, palpable fear, and the crushing grief. He had felt so helpless, unable to protect his family from the encroaching evil.
“I saw it too, Zena,” he admitted quietly. “That shadow wasn’t just your imagination. It was real, and it was dangerous. That’s why I left. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you kids like I lost your mother. I had to find a way to fight back.”
Her pupils trembled. “You… you did?”
Suu nodded. He chanced a small step in her direction. “I could tell in your eyes you’d been cursed with the ‘sight.’ Just like my mother.”
“‘Sight’? What are you talking about?”
Suu sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of long-held secrets. “The ability to see beyond the veil. To perceive the spiritual world that most people can’t. It’s a gift... and a curse. Your grandmother had it, I have it, and you inherited it, too. That’s why you saw the shadow that day. The day your mother… yeah, you know.”
Her bloodshot eyes watered. Puffy cheeks shook. It was too much to witness.
Suu made his vision distant as if it were another hapless soul to scrape. Anything was easier than seeing her like that and knowing he’d done the damage.
“After your mother died, I knew I had to learn more, to find a way to protect y’all. So I journeyed to Japan, roaming the country, searching for answers, learning ancient techniques, and fighting the demons that lurked in the shadows. Eventually, my quest led me to the Ancient Lands, where Orlay helped me understand the true nature of our gift. He was my master.”
The light of understanding shone on her face. “Orlay…” She lowered her head. “He’s dead. I-I killed him.”
Suu’s cragged face grew dark. “I don’t know the circumstance. But considering what you’ve been through, I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
Zena’s eyes flashed hot. "Not easy? Not easy was growin’ up without a dad. Not easy was scrapin’ by barely able to get food in our bellies after you left. Not easy was… was not knowin’ what the hell happened to you and after all this time… I… I’m so fucked up because a you!”
“Zena, I—”
“Oh and who’s Ezra? I don’t remember having a brother. But I’ve seen him a vision. I can’t explain it. Can you?”
Suu looked up to the night to ground himself in something greater. “Sometimes, the ‘sight’ energy is so great it can allow you to see beings never meant to be found.”
“What are you sayin’?”
“After you were born, many years after, your mother conceived a son. But… he died at birth, well… at least his body did.”
Zena’s face was pale. Suu pushed on.
“But his spirit thrived. When I gained access to the Ancient Lands, I returned to raise him there. Things were fine for a while, until…”
“Until what?”
“Ufuzatou. He took your demi-brother Ezra. Now, I have no idea where he is.”
Zena looked contemplative. Then the fury flashed. “So, I’ve had a ‘demi-brother’ all this time? Dammit! I feel like I don’t know anything about my family or myself.”
Suu swallowed. Her consternation was justified. But he wasn’t done completely destroying what was left of her life as she knew it. Better tell her the rest.
“Zena, listen. I thought I was close to finding answers, to becoming strong enough to protect y’all. But I underestimated Ufuzatou. He... he killed me.”
Zena’s eyes widened in shock. “He killed you? But... how are you here?”
Suu’s expression was bleak. “Ufuzatou saw an opportunity. He offered me a chance to redeem myself by collecting souls for him. I... I accepted.”
“You what?” Zena’s voice rose, anger flashing in her eyes. “How could you work for the very thing that tore our family apart? How could you make such a Faustian deal? And after all your pap about ‘Did you pray?’ ‘Did y’all pray!? You’re a goddamn hypocrite.”
Suu let her bleed him dry. He wanted, needed, deserved, was gladdened by her rage. Showed she still had a human heart inside her. Unlike me.
Zena took another pace toward him. “Do you still have it?”
“Have what?”
“The book! The Bible you always toted around.”
Suu hung his head. “No… I haven’t carried it in some time… and it was never a Bible. It was… multiple different books…”
Zena drew her head back with a snap movement. “What the skibidi!?”
Suu returned a perplexed look. “Skibidi?”
She shook her head, still breathing hard with expectation, “It’s just somethin’ my students say. Okay? Now you were sayin’.”
Musta gotten that sense of humor from her mother. He cleared his throat and continued, “I carried books on the occult. It was the I-Ching, The Book of the Law, The Secret Teachings of All Ages, books like that. It was astrology, numerology, mysticism, celestial magic, any discipline that might help me understand the cycle of the stars, so I could break my family free of this curse.”
“You mean so you could break yourself free.”
“…yes,” Suu admitted.
Zena stared hard. “Why’d you hide it?”
“Because I know what happens when the world finds out what you really believe. They make you pay for it every day. Many Christians demand the highest tax on those who even peek outside the doors of faith. Judgment. They wield it like a slow poison. I’m not ashamed to admit, the church killed my spirit with that. It was a slow process, but it withered away like a bluebonnet baked in the sun. I… I didn’t want that for my family.”
Zena’s posture relaxed as she moved closer. She said, “‘You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.’ Romans, Chapter Two, Verses One to Three.”
Suu chuckled, “Ah you remember that one.”
“You taught me.”
“Right.”
An arm’s length distance separated them. Suu could see her in greater detail now. She looks so much like her mother.
“You look like her… your mother,” he said.
“I know. Ya told me that a lot growing up.”
C’mon, out with the rest of it.
Suu sighed heavily. “Zena… there’s something else you should know about your mother…”
Zena’s face showed little brightness. “What about her?”
“Your mother’s soul... it’s alive… in the Ancient Lands. And your demi-brother Ezra, he’s there, too. I’ve been scraping souls to feed power to you, Zena. So you can defeat Ufuzatou and free me and all of us from this curse.”
Zena stumbled back. She shook her head, trying to process it all. “And Igrid? What about her?”
“She’s still in Texas,” Suu replied softly. “I... I haven’t spoken to her in a long time.”
Zena considered his words carefully. He could see her processing the truth, just as he’d done decades ago. Her hands trembled, if she were a bull, dust would be blowing under her nose in frustration. Finally, she said, “So that’s what it’s been all this time? To get us all outta this… this mess you left ta study demonology or other occult things, but died and became a demon yourself, so you could save, Ezra, Mama’s soul, and break the family curse? Did I read it right?”
“Yes, exactly.”
She blew out a long breath. Suu was close enough to smell the alcohol and vomit on her breath. But he wasn’t repulsed.
“Why is this family so screwed up?” Zena asked. Suu read it as a rhetorical question, but he responded anyway.
“I don’t know. But now, this island has become another victim of our haunted heritage. This has to end.” Suu stepped closer to her. She didn’t flinch. “You’re almost ready, Zena. Ready to face Ufuzatou at the final gate.”
Suddenly, the air shimmered beside them and a demi-gate opened. Zena retreated a step, and in a flash of lavender light, her nearly fully powered kama was in her hand. Suu took a casual step back. He knew who it was.
“Congratulations Tengo, you’ve passed the soul trial,” Suu said with a smile.
The young man appeared dazed but somehow lighter. Zena gasped, her eyes welling with tears of relief and joy.
“Tengo!” She rushed forward to embrace him. “You’re okay! I thought we’d lost you too.”
Suu turned to him, still smiling. “What did you learn?”
Tengo took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he recalled his experience. “I... I relived the moment when others realized I was different. At a swimming pool when I was twelve, another boy noticed I was staring at him in a “funny” way. I couldn’t hide my… my reaction, or I should say, my body’s reaction to him.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Suu said. Zena nodded with encouragement.
Tengo went on. “In my original memory, I hid away, burying my true self out of fear and shame,” Tengo continued. “But this time, I found the courage to open up. To talk to my parents, to seek support from friends. I realized that hiding who I am was hurting not just me, but everyone around me.”
Zena squeezed his shoulder, pride shining in her eyes. Tengo smiled, a newfound confidence evident in his posture. “I learned that being true to myself, even when it’s uncomfortable, is real strength…”
Suu nodded approvingly. “That’s a powerful lesson, Tengo. One that will serve you well.” He raised his gloved hand, a soft glow emanating from it. “Now, I can grant you entry into the Ancient Lands. You can be with the others.”
Tengo’s eyes widened. “You mean... Ethan and Lily? But I thought… they died.”
Suu shook his head. “No, they live on in another form. Would you like to see them?”
Chapter 75
Suu raised his手袋 gloved hand, then clenched. From his closed fist the air went wavy as if it had become a portable gate crest. In a breath, the world around me shifted. The bustling streets of Kokusai, the noise, traffic, crowds, coalesced into a new reality. Despite still being somewhat drunk, my body accepted the abrupt transition as if it were a routine flight, like it was designed to handle such a journey.
When the scene stabilized, I froze with wonder.
“What in the…?”
Tengo’s breath quickened. “I… I don’t believe it…”
Suu directed his chin ahead. “Welcome to the Ancient Lands.”
It was almost too much. My jaw dropped; my eyes bounced before the breathtaking landscape. The same mesmerizing captivity that stunned me when
I laid eyes on Okinawa’s cerulean shores from the air years before held me again.
Before me stretched scenery that seemed to blend the ancient Ryukyu Kingdom with the mythical Garden of Eden. Old, ancient, blended with structures I’d only seen in pictures and pamphlets since settling on island.
Lush, emerald fields rolled out as far as the eye could see, dotted with vibrant deigo flowers and shisa statues. Majestic castles rose from the hills, their stone walls intertwined with vines bearing fruit that glowed like jewels. Crystalline streams, home to mischievous kijimuna spirits, wove through the land. In the distance, I could see a shimmering sea that seemed to meld with the golden-hued sky at the horizon. The air was clean and fragrant like a Japanese airport terminal, always flowing, lightly scented and relaxing. My lungs expanded to full capacity with every breath.
“It’s... beautiful,” I said. But even as the words left my lips, I realized I was seeing it all from a distance, as if through a veil I couldn’t quite pierce. A pang of longing shot through me, mixed with the ever-present awareness of my dwindling humanity.
Twenty percent remaining. The Soul Gauge app reminded me before I’d activated Spirit Service. The splendor of the Ancient Lands became another backdrop as thoughts of everything I still had to do fell on me like rain on a previously sunny day. Defeat Ufuzatou (the demon who killed my father), find Ezra, save Okinawa, save Mama’s soul (if there was anything left to save), break the family curse, and save myself (if there was time). These contemplations reminded me, no matter where I was in the world or beyond, there’d be no freedom from my own mind.
“Zena, this way,” Suu called from a few steps ahead. He and Spirit Tengo waited for me.
“I’m comin’.” I jogged to catch up.
I followed them towards a great white tower that rose from a grassy hill. Its elegant spire reached towards the heavens. Structurally, the giant edifice reminded me of an enormous white torch, reminiscent of the tower at the Peace Prayer Park. We climbed dozens of stairs to reach a pair of hefty bronze doors.
Suu pushed the doors open and ushered us in. “This is the Tower of Remembrance.”
“Remembrance?” Tengo repeated.
“Yes. It is a storage place for all of the souls I’ve collected.”
“Where’s Ethan and Lily?” Tengo asked excitedly.
Suu pointed to a chamber on the right. “Through the atrium on the right is where you go.”
Tengo adjusted his glasses then dashed off.
“Kids,” Suu smiled.
I commented, “Try dealing with a hundred plus of them, for nine months out of the year.”
“Three was enough for me,” Suu replied.
“I… see,” I said. I’d nearly forgotten he was my father. Everything had happened so fast in the last few hours. My feelings around him lay in a large pile like a mountain of ungraded essays. I’d need a bottle of wine and a weekend to work through them all. I doubt I’d have that kind of leisure any time soon. Maybe when this is all over.
The atrium was magnificent. It looked to be constructed in old Japanese style. Large wood beams, strategically interlocked, made the soaring room sturdy. Oil paintings of various Okinawan, Chinese, and American eras reflected the history of the island, land of the Ancient Ones. I wanted to stay longer to admire the art. But every second, I felt my head clearing – Spirit Service wouldn’t last much longer.
Suu was already in the room with Spirit Tengo by the time I caught up.
“Okay Tengo, time to reunite with your buddies.”
Suu snapped his gloved finger. Then around us hundreds of boxes like those in the mailroom on Kadena faded into view. Instead of silver or rusted bronze doors, these were polished gold.
“Woah,” Tengo said.
“Over here.” Suu waved him over to two boxes in the corner. “This is it.”
Suu spun the dial right several times, then turned it right, passed a letter, stopped. Left, stopped. Then right one time. The box unlocked with a click. He did the same with the box next to it. Then opened them both. Nothing happened.
“Uh is something supposed to happen?” I asked.
Suu stood back and crossed his arms. “Of course. Tengo, talk to your friends.” When I realized Suu was standing next to me, I sidestepped away.
“Okay,” Tengo said. He leaned toward the open boxes as if he were speaking through a tube. “Guys… are you there?”
Suddenly, a familiar voice responded. “Heyo, Tengo!”
“Ethan?”
“Yeah, man it’s me.”
Tengo looked back to me. I waved my hand to encourage him to keep talking. A week ago, I would have thought watching one of my dead students communicate with two (more dead?) students in a phantasmagorical land of spirits was ludicrous fantasy. But given all I’d seen, it was another Wednesday.
The teen smiled then leaned to the adjacent box.
“…Lily?”
“Heey Tengo. I’m in here.”
Tears streamed down his face. “How are you guys?”
“Okay, mostly,” Ethan replied. “I’m in a kind of video game type of life. It’s cool, I guess.”
Tengo laughed, “Sounds like a dream for you.”
“It would be...” Ethan’s voice trailed off. “If I wasn’t a player AND being played.”
Tengo shook his head. Confusion creased his brow. “I don’t understand.”
Suu stepped forward, his face solemn. “Tengo, Ethan should have died, but his soul scraping allows him to live on in the Ancient Lands. However, this is only possible if his spirit-frame can be used by any resident demon as a power source… and for… well nearly any other purpose they deem fit. It was the only way to prevent permanent death.” Shame passed over Suu’s face as he spoke.
My face contorted. “That sounds like slavery.”
Suu spoke with an unruffled expression. “Ethics are a convenient human convention, only available in the best of human eras. The Ancient Lands operates under no such laws. Here infinite existence is guaranteed for all. Yet, just like any civilized order, there is an established hierarchy. Those who are lower, must play their part. Your… I mean, our, world is no different.”
I glowered at him. He looked away.
Ethan said, “I’ve died so many times, and done scary and amazing things,” Ethan continued. “Wish I could tell Cyan about em’. How’s she doin’ by the way?”
Tengo looked back to me with a somber face. I didn’t know what to tell him. I hadn’t heard Cyan utter a word since she last spoke to him, post-kiss, at the base of Mount Katsuu. She was no longer that innocent (slightly airheaded) cheerleader. She was… I didn’t know. I doubted she could tell me if I asked her.
“She’s getting better,” I finally managed. The words felt insincere as I said them.
“Oh...” Ethan’s voice was quiet. Then he said, “Lily’s here, too.”
Lily’s voice echoed around us. “Heey, everybody. Pretty weird talking to the guy who tortured me as a disembodied spirit.”
Suu cleared his throat. “And the guy that saved you from complete death.”
“Yeah, I guess we’re even, then,” Lily replied. “So uh, did I guess right? Miss Marlowe, you’re goin’ full demon?”
I recalled my last glance at my spirit score. I swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
Suu noticed my discomfort. “There still might be time to save her...”
“How?” I asked, undisguised desperation in my tone.
“With the power of the souls I saved,” Suu explained. “In the Ancient Lands, souls are like batteries. They maintain balance. When the gates opened, that balance was thrown off. Now the lands are dying.”
“That’s what Orlay said.”
“He’s right,” Suu nodded. “But I’ve been saving up souls for decades in this glove.” He held up his hand, the silver glove glinting. “When the time is right, I’ll transfer that power to you. But we must do it before you fully transform, or else… he might have full control over you by then.”
“You mean Ufuzatou.”
“Yes.”
I don’t know why I said what I said next. “I stopped believin’ in God after mom died,” I admitted. “Then I believed wholly in spirituality, until I eventually lost faith in that, too.”
“What do you believe in now?” Suu asked with a lifted eyebrow.
I sighed. “I used to believe in myself alone. But I’ve seen that’s not enough. There’s only so much one person can do unconnected. Now, I don’t know what I believe in. What if… what if I’m not the right person to do this?”
Something Ufuzatou said on the night James died darkened my mood:
You are link between our worlds. The one chosen by this island. Though I can’t fathom why she put such faith in a faithless woman.
Suu took my hand. “You’re the only one who can do this. Faith is found by those with an open heart. Fear kills it. You can’t let it lead you. That kind of bold belief is not just for those who go to a building on Sunday or worship a particular god. It’s for anyone who willfully trusts things outside of themselves, no matter the risk of physical or emotional harm. Keep that side of you that cared for these kids free and you’ll find the way.”
For a moment, I wanted to embrace him. We stared at each other until Suu turned to walk out of the room.
“Zena, let’s leave Tengo to catch up with his friends.”
“Why?”
“Because someone’s been waiting for you.”
***
Suu and I walked to the opposite side of the Tower of Remembrance.
It was a smaller room with an altar in the center. When we entered the cathedral-esque atmosphere, my heart was already pumping hard.
Suu turned to face me. “Zena, I was able to find James’s soul, but…”
“But what?”
“But, because I had no control over his “crossing”, the demon who captured his soul owns him.”
My mind was firing almost too fast to speak. “But, Kata-ashi Pinza is dead! So what does that mean? Where is my husband?”
Suu wore a sorrowful expression when he said, “The demon that owned Kata-ashi Pinza, inherited all of his souls… Zena I’m sorry. This was the best I could do.”
That all too common heart pain hit again, for the umpteenth time today. It was a safety pin heated over stove fire to pop a blister inserted too far until it hit live flesh. Sharp, burning, it passed through my breastbone straight to my weakened heart. Every slapping pump sent stinging pain out to every nerve in my system.
“My James, my James…” I could hardly stand. Suu helped me up.
“Shh, shh, Zena, when I do this, you won’t have much time. And your Spirt Service is almost over. Are you ready?”
I looked up at him. His pained expression, my tear-streaked face. I was seven years old again, he was thirty years younger and thinner picking me up after I ran my bike into the briar patch. I found another reason to hope for death, we were father and daughter again, right then and there. No family curse, Japanese demon, nor decades of neglect would ever change that. He lifted me up, then stepped back.
I pushed the tears away like I’d done too many times today and waited to see my husband for the last time.
Chapter 76
スー Suu clenched his glove and the demi-gate opened above the altar. It was a sunset portal, much different from all the others I’d seen up to that point.
I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the bright light. When it faded, above the altar he was there standing, just like it was last week. James.
He wore his flightsuit, just as he had on the last night we’d been together on that fateful evening at the O Club. An event that felt like an eternity ago. Everything about him seemed to glow in the dusk-colored light. His hair, the slight curve of his belly (that he always tried to hide), the jutting chin, and that goofy lopsided smile I couldn’t get enough of, it was all so, him. Despite his ghostly appearance, he still radiated that infinite charm, my flyboy, my James.
For a few seconds we passed unspoken words, me looking up at him in my frazzled state, him looking down at me in phantom form.
“Suu, could you—” I turned to where he had been when he opened the portal, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t even in the room.
“Z… who was…?”
“Nobody.”
“Okay, well Mr. ‘Nobody’ looked a lot like you.” Suspicion sounded in his inflection.
My impatience grew. “James, just forget about him. I wanna know how you are.”
“Woah, Z, well… I’d say I’ve seen better days. I mean, I’m dead after all.”
“Right…” I had no idea what to say. Neither did he. Every second, our final meeting was coming to an end. The more I tried not to think about it, the more I thought about it.
“Damn, Z, you look like someone put an angry cat on your face while you slept.”
I let myself smile, “I’ve seen better days.”
“Catch anymore demons lately?”
“Yeah, a few…”
He nodded, “That’s good, that’s good. I figured you’d be good at it…”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
Tick tock, tick tock.
“So…”
“…so what?”
“…are you gonna tell me who that guy was? Or am I gonna have to start guessin’?”
“James… I said, forget him. He’s nothin’.”
“Is he a co-worker?”
“No.”
“Your new principal?”
“James…”
“A friend?”
“No…” Tick tock. I heard footsteps behind me.
“…boyfriend? If so, I don’t blame you, I am dead after all. As long as it’s not one of those demons, because—"
“James, no!” I exploded, “HE’S MY DAD! Jesus H. Christ James, why are you so damned slow sometimes!?”
James raised his hands in defense. “Okay, that was actually gonna be my next guess…. And ouch, that hurt.” He crossed his arms and turned away.
My breathing was so uneven; I didn’t know what to do or say. “James… James I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve said that.”
He didn’t turn around.
“James… just look at me, please…”
He looked over his shoulder. “Okay, I’m looking. What is it?”
I swallowed. “James, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what to say to you. When Ufuzatou told me you might be alive somewhere on the night that you… that you went away, I held onto the hope that this day might come. But… but…”
“But… what?”
“But along the way, I’ve seen so much death, so much loss, that light inside me that I kept on for you… that’s been there, was there… it went out.”
“Oh…”
“So when, I got here and Suu told me, I’d be able to see you, I tried to think of what to say to you. I tried to find it, to find that light again. But everything’s so dark now, I couldn’t get it lit. I couldn’t… I’m so sorry, James… so sorry.”
“For what, Z?”
“You’re dead! [crying] You’re fuckin’ dead, [sniff] because of me. Because you made the mistake of gettin’ involved with me and my fucked up family! Because, because I couldn’t let this thing go. I tried to protect you. I tried to protect my students, and what did it get me?? Nothing! Abso-fuckin’-lutely not a goddamn thing. And look! Now I’ve lost you. Half of my students are dead! The other two will never be the same. I have no job and no idea what the fuck I’m doin’. All I know is I keep losin’ people I love. And soon… soon I may lose my soul and be slave to a demon for eternity… so that’s why I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got you killed. I’m sorry I ever tried to give a shit about anything…”
I felt Suu close behind me, but he stepped away. James’s form was fading fast. He stood thinking in that awkward way again.
“Z… none of that is your fault. Especially me being dead. Pretty sure it was that rogue goat that did me in.”
I rubbed my eyes.
“And as for your students, you did everything you could to protect them. That’s not all on you, either. They got parents, don’t they? Pretty sure they share some of the blame.”
I nodded slow.
“Now you look at me, Zena.”
My head was like a forty-pound weight, I couldn’t lift it. I didn’t want him to see me like this for our final meeting. I’d ruined it. Just let him fade away.
“Zena Marjorie Marlowe! Look at me!” It was that tone. The one he only used in the most dire of circumstances. I had to obey. I lifted my head to see him nearly gone. I rushed to the altar.
“Yes, James.”
“If this is the last time I see you, I want you to know. I’m not sorry for any of it. Y’hear me? Not a single second. That last night at the O Club was rad. All the times we fought, including now, I’m okay with it. It made me a better man and Airman with a capital “A”. That last morning when we fucked, that was great, too, as usual.”
“James Marlowe!” I spit laughter, as my face fired red. I looked back to see Suu covering his ears.
I turned back to James, who kept talking, “And most of all, I’m glad I got to meet your dad, er, I mean my father-in-law.” James waved at him, “Hello, Sir.”
“Uh, hello,” Suu replied. It was the first time I’d seen Suu embarrassed.
“I love you, Zena Marlowe. That includes your freaky demon side, too.”
I smiled, but it hurt. “I love you, too James Marlowe.”
He was nearly invisible now. “James, be well.”
He snickered. “Are you kiddin’ me? They got all you can eat wings, and I can watch football all day. No worrying about gettin’ fat or spending hours in a cockpit. Closest thing to Heaven here, I think.”
I shook my head laughing.
“Z, I don’t know exactly what you gotta do to win. But I have one final request.”
“Yes.. anything baby.”
“Forgive yourself.”
I wiped my face with my hand. “Okay… I’ll try.”
“No, Z. ‘Do or don’t do, there is no try.’” He said in his weird Yoda impression.
I laughed hard. “Okay, I’ll do it.” I couldn’t see him anymore.
“Good! May the Schwartz, Be With You!”
My James.
Chapter 77
スーがいなかった。Suu was gone. Standing there on Kokusai Street, as throngs of tourists jostled me without a care, I tried to process how everything had gone sideways.
I should have seen the attack coming.
After speaking with James. Spirit Service was almost up. I could sense it. Suu and I headed back into the chamber where Tengo was seated, talking to ghostly forms of Ethan and Lily.
Lily said, “Tengo, man I gotta say, you really glowed up. You look taller.”
“Thanks, Lily.”
“Bein’ a ghost-slave-indentured servant whatever has done a number on me, too. I’ve actually made a few friends with a few other former losers. Like my good man Ethan here.”
“Hey!” Ethan said.
“Lighten up buttercup. Y’know it’s funny, here nobody cares about my weight, or really what I look
like. It’s all about how well you do whatever the Ancient One wants. Nothing else matters.”
“Pretty sure, it’s BECAUSE you don’t have no body. Nobody does.”
“And nobody cares what you think, Ethan.”
“Pfft whatever,” he looked to Tengo. “Guess you won’t have that problem, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess since I got through the soul trial, I’m “free” so to speak. I can roam the Ancient Lands or stay here with you guys.”
“Aw don’t do that to yourself man,” Lily said, “Gotta live yo’ life.”
“I agree, dawg. Don’t limit yourself on accounta us. You might even get to go back to the human side if you’re lucky…”
The three of them were quiet for some time.
“This is getting awkward,” Lily’s voice broke the silence.
Ethan laughed, but his mirth was cut short by a sudden shout. “You guys gotta get outta here!”
In a flash, Ethan gained physical form, his eyes wild with panic. “It’s a trap!” he yelled, tackling Suu to the ground just as Garappa materialized behind him, claws extended.
“No!” I yelled. In less than a second, my kama was in my hand, hot and sharp.
The reptilian demon’s eyes gleamed with malice as he lunged for me. I lunged back. Our weapons clashed, sending sparks flying.
“Zena, the glove!” Suu shouted, struggling against Ethan’s grip. “You must take it!”
I ducked under Garappa’s swipe, rolling towards Suu. My fingers brushed the cool silver material, but before I could grasp it, Garappa’s tail whipped around, knocking me back.
“Your time here hath exp’red, Zena Marlowe,” Garappa hissed, advancing on me. “Embrace your demon nature or perish.”
I gritted my teeth, pushing myself to my feet. “I choose neither!”
“Then he diess.”
Who?
Garappa ripped open two portals, one below Suu, another in front of his claws. Suu hadn’t anticipated the move and fell through. As soon as he appeared, those dinosaur digits found their mark, Suu’s chest. Flayed. Blood spread on his clothes when he went down. Garappa released a hearty laugh as he stood over him.
“I anticipated a more worthy opponent. But no matter. Now you lecherous bassterd will ssuffer penancce for your transgressionss.”
“Shut up!” I swung and cut a rift in in his scales, then placed myself as a barrier between him and the wounded Suu.
“You are thorn in my scaless! This endss here!”
We traded blows, my hook blade slashing through the air as it met Garappa’s claws. Each clash sent shockwaves of energy rippling through the chamber. I could feel my remaining humanity burning within me, fueling every strike.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Suu bleeding out on the floor, his body rigid with pain. “Remember, Zena,” he gasped. “Open... heart...”
His words gave me strength. With a primal yell, I feinted left, then drove my blade deep into Garappa’s side. The demon howled in pain and fury.
“Thine blade, while brimming bright, fate cannot change!” Garappa said, black ichor oozing from his wound. “The rise of the new kingdom is nigh. The hour is past for you!”
Before I could respond, he lashed out with his tail again, this time opening a swirling portal behind Suu. With a last, desperate look at me, Garappa stepped through with a weakened Suu.
“D—, Suu!” I screamed. But the portal snapped shut, leaving only empty air where Suu had been.
Garappa laughed, a cruel, grating sound. “Your ally is gone, and verily, your humanity will follow.”
Suddenly, the world around me began to blur and shift.
No, Spirit Service is expired!
I felt myself being pulled away from the Ancient Lands. Reality itself seemed to rend itself in pieces.
“Miss Marlowe!” Tengo cried. Ethan and Lily were there, too. All three wore flabbergasted faces.
Just as I’d said goodbye to James, I knew this would likely be our final meeting. The three of their faces rippled then disappeared as I was whisked away back to the human world.
I landed on hands and knees on the sidewalk in the middle of Kokusai Street. A group of Indian tourists eyed me strangely as I stood.
I pulled the phantom smart phone to check the Soul Gauge. Before I could open the app, it rang.
PRIVATE NUMBER
With trepidation, I answered it.
“Hello?”
“Zena! Thank goodness you’re alright,” Agent Judin said with jubilee.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I said, “What’s up?”
“Yumi, already informed me about your success with the sixth gate. And unfortunately, about the loss of young Tengo. I’m deeply sorry.”
I pictured Tengo in the Ancient Lands, roaming free, visiting Ethan and Lily whenever he pleased. That was enough for me to receive his condolences with equanimous acceptance.
“Zena? Hello, are you there?” Judin asked with worry.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Good. Tomorrow morning at 0900 we’ll gather at the OSI Detachment on Kadena to make final preparations for our approach to seal the final gate at Zakimi Castle and end this nightmare for good. Can you attend?”
Something caught my eye on the sidewalk. It was just lying there, discarded, almost like a piece of garbage. I started to move toward it. Had to pick it up before someone else or a stray cat made off with it.
“Zena? Still with me?”
“Yeah, gotcha. 0900, OSI det, tomorrow. I’ll be there.”
“Excellent. See you tomorrow. Oh and do try and get some rest. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks, Judin.”
I ended the call.
As soon as I pocketed the phone, I snatched Suu’s glove off the street. It was heavier than it appeared. In the lights of a Kariyushi shirt store, I examined it. Silver color, made of some type of leather, with uneven stitching. There were small symbols on it, some common others arcane: a pentagram, astrological signs, a cross – too many to name. One of them made me clench my teeth to bite back tears. In a tiny corner, below the thumb on the palm side was an outline of the state of Texas with a disproportioned star in the center and five stars surrounding it.
One for each of us.
Chapter 78
This was the アメリカ宇宙軍United States Space Force’s finest hour.
If we can pull this off, this department will have a shot. This has to work.
Agent Judin arrived at Detachment 624 at dawn. Not even the Knowledge Operations Manager (KOM) was there that early, so he sat in his rental car and waited. Everything was open: laptop, tablet, phone. All contained data about the gates, fiends they’d encountered, and comms with the Pentagon.
Cramped in his car, he sipped a plastic cup of reheated coffee that was now cold.
The brass on the East Coast (many of whom laughed at him) when he proposed the Department of Otherworldly Affairs, were very interested in the events taking place a world away on this tiny island in the Pacific.
They’re not laughing now.
Success today meant a fully funded program. Trailblazing the way for deeper dives into the unseen threats to American hegemony that weren’t sixty-two miles above sea level.
He pulled up an aerial map of Zakimi Castle. Like many of the others on island, it had been reconstructed in a spectacular show of raining boulders, piecing themselves together as if they were Lego blocks manipulated by a colossal six-year-old. No one had ever been inside the new castle grounds, so he worked from an old map of the ruins to think through their approach, factoring in weather, terrain, and tactical safety. It was a full-blown op.
He transitioned back to his phone to send a brief message when he heard a knock on the window.
Freya.
He rolled it down. Immediately, the wet air made him sweat even more.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
“What does it look like?”
She peered into the car. “Looks like you could use more room for mission control.”
Judin grinned. “The confines of the car are a bit tight.” He examined at her face. Rings under the eyes, face moisturized only by island air, hair frizzed and unorderly, in other words, exactly like he felt.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Freya, you—”
“Look like ass? Yeah, I know.”
“No sleep?”
“Not even two Ambien would put me down.”
“Ah.”
“You comin’ in or not? It’s hot as hell out here.”
“Yes, yes of course.”
“C’mon, I’ll help you carry your space station up.”
Judin shook his head, smirking.
***
Cyan crouched low behind the wall. The early heat made her hair stick to the back of her neck. In a small pink Hello Kitty backpack, she dug around for a hair tie. She quickly put it up, then continued her wait.
What’s taking him so long??
Her knees ached; her back was stiff. Such an uncomfortable position wasn’t a vibe. Then her foot began to itch. She looked down.
Ants!
She hopped up, dashed to the nearest patch of concrete, jerked her shoe off then her damp sock and beat it on a curb. I hate. Ants! She inspected her foot. Below her faded pink-purple big toenail were three rising red dots. Cyan resisted a few seconds, then scratched the shit out of them. After some satisfying itching, she found her shoe to pound out any remaining insects.
“Yo, what are you doin?”
Jordan eyed her with gazing focus.
Half-barefoot, squatting in the street, limp sock in one hand, shoe in the other, Cyan covered her face with her hand. Until she smelled her horrible sock that stunk like moldy clothes left out in the rain. She dropped it.
“Well… I, uh, was waiting for you. Then there were these ants, and so, uh yeah,” she said exasperated. Cyan worked to put her sock and shoe back on.
Jordan strolled over and helped her up.
“It’s cool.”
She noticed Jordan had a larger backpack. What is he carrying?
“Why’d you take so long?? We said eight so we could eat somethin’ before we go. I’m so hungry…”
Jordan took off his bag and fumbled around. He produced an onigiri and a box of orange juice. “Here, Family Mart fresh.”
Cyan’s eyes sparkled as she swiped the food. “Ah! These are my favorites.” She tore into the package and stuffed it into her mouth.
As she chewed, she said, “You still didn’t say… why you’re late.”
Jordan turned and looked back in the direction of his house. Unemotional he said, “Got into a big fight with my folks. They didn’t want me to go.”
Cyan slurped the last of the juice box.
Jordan faced her and said, “Mom threatened to cut my allowance until I’m eighteen or until we PCS, I didn’t hear which one. Didn’t care. Dad locked my computer and my phone up. I’m basically a hostage at home. So I asked myself, ‘What would Lily do?’”
Her features slackened as she gulped down the last of the snack. “Aw, Jordan…”
“‘Fuck it’. That’s exactly what. So, I packed some shit and was like, ‘Guess I’m runnin’’ away… temporarily. It’s like that quote: ‘Running away is not about escaping reality; it’s about creating a new one.’”
“Who said that?”
“No fucking clue, some chick on Snapchat. It sounded right though.”
Cyan put a hand on his shoulder.
“How’d you get out?” Jordan asked.
“Doris’ been pretty hands off to let me grieve. I just told her I was gonna stay over at Monica’s on Foster for the weekend.” Cyan kicked the concrete. “She told me ‘be careful’ and looked like she was gonna break down. Probably knew what I was gonna do… what I had to do… for Ethan.”
“Yeah, I feel that. Whole island is at stake. This is no drill or exercise, it’s real. And for the first time, I can do somethin’ about it. I’m not gonna sit it out to grind Madden or wait for oblivion.”
“Me neither,” she moved closer to him.
“Yo? What are you doin’?”
“Tryin’ to see what other food, you got in that bag.” She reached for his backpack. Jordan spun away and began to walk in the direction of the OSI building.
“C’mon, Jordan! I’m still hungry!”
“You gonna have to work for the next one.” He broke off in a jog.
“Jordan! Don’t be so beta!” She ran after him.
***
At the entrance of OSI Detachment 624, Yumi and Rika observed an expensive car pull up. Bright orange, shining in the morning light, immaculate, the Subaru Levorg Layback was a showcar next to the adjacent island beaters.
Yumi dipped her sunglasses to get a better look. What a ride.
Rika nudged her with a smile as the driver stepped out.
Ray Bans, fitted field gear, black t-shirt with “OSI” emblazoned in burned yellow letters on the back, tall, appropriate stubble over the strong jaw below bouncy lips, Agent Nigel Tamm slung a large black bag over his shoulder as the car chirp chirped when he locked it.
Yumi thrust her chest out. What a guy.
“Morning, ladies. Are you coming up?”
Rika nodded while pressing her lips together, stifling a smile.
“Oh we’re coming…” Yumi murmured looking him up and down.
“What was that?” Nigel asked.
Yumi smiled wide. “Nothing at all.”
“I’ll grab the door,” Nigel pulled it open with his free hand and let them pass through.
They climbed the stairs. Halfway up, amid heavy breaths, Yumi said, “Big day today.”
“It is,” Nigel responded.
“Nervous?”
“Only a little. I think, no, I know, everything’ll work out the way it’s supposed to in the end.”
They reached the lobby.
Rika mouthed ‘Ask him’ to Yumi. Nigel was too busy keying in the door combination to notice.
“Hey, uh, Tammy—I mean, Nigel, assuming we don’t get our souls scraped today. Would you uh, wanna hang out again… no pressure of course.”
He stopped and faced her. No response. Rika bit her lip.
“Yes, yes I would. You still gotta tell me about the crazy time at the izakaya last night. Hear I really missed out.” His smile was perfect.
Yumi pumped her fist with vigor. “Yeah for sure! It’ll go well with a few drinks, and then another ‘special liaison’ after?”
Nigel flashed her a wink before they walked in.
***
Agent Judin leaned against the wall. His usually well-pressed suit was wrinkled from hours of wear.
Across from him, Freya paced like a caged tiger. Nigel sat at the large conference room table surveying a laptop.
“This is unprecedented,” Judin said, breaking the silence. “Ancient structures materializing in modern Okinawa? It’s like something out of a sci-fi novel.”
Freya snorted, “Call it what it is: an invasion, plain and simple. These... things don’t belong here. We need to expel them, by force if necessary. No need to romanticize it.”
“Force?” Nigel interjected. “We’re talking about cultural artifacts, not enemy combatants. When I really think about the gates, I wonder if closing them was a mistake?”
Freya whirled on him. “A mistake? Have you seen the chaos out there? People are panicking.”
“Change often brings fear,” Nigel replied. “But fear doesn’t justify destruction. These structures are part of Okinawa’s history. Maybe their return is meant to happen.”
Judin shook his head. “The Ancient Lands... according to the description, they’re unlike anything we’ve ever encountered. The potential for knowledge, for understanding—”
“Understanding?” Freya scoffed. “More like a new Mecca for folk that don’t belong here.”
Judin raised an eyebrow. “Ah so, has ‘Miss I-only-believe-what-see’ come to accept the supernatural?”
She threw her hands up, “Well, fuck, after you’ve been nearly suffocated by a naked bitch demon with giant tits… some things you, just can’t unsee. No amount of therapy, alcohol, or drugs will help that…”
The room was quiet. Judin noticed everyone seemed to be recalling all the horrors they’d witnessed over the last month.
He couldn’t have them in their heads. Not today. He voiced a thought. “Apologies Freya. You’ve all been through a lot. I’m just wondering… are we witnessing the merger of two realities? Two that were never meant to be separate in the first place?”
Nigel nodded thoughtfully. “Our understanding of reality is fairly limited.”
Freya acknowledged her partner. “Limited understanding or not, we have a duty to protect this world. Isn’t that your job as a ‘Space Ranger’?”
“Guardian,” Judin growled.
Freya returned a satirical wisp of a smile.
“But at what cost?” Nigel asked. “If we destroy these reconstructed castles, we might be erasing a part of ourselves, a part of our history we’ve forgotten. I think about that sometimes.”
Judin held up a hand. “Both of you make valid points. Freya’s right that we have a responsibility to maintain dimensional order. But Nigel, your emphasis on preservation and understanding is crucial, too. We musn’t forget our legacy.”
“So what, we just sit back and watch castles fall from the sky and monsters walk in the front door?” Freya folded her arms.
Judin shook his head. “No of course not. Now, we smartly prepare. Tonight might determine the fate of not just Okinawa, but the entire world.” He patted the thick file under his arm, labeled ‘Shimabukuro, Jun’. “And we need to be ready for any outcome.”
Nigel leaned forward. “What’s in the file?”
“Possibly the key to understanding all of this,” Judin replied. “The story of how this all began... and maybe how it needs to end.”
***
Cyan viewed the discussion in twitchy silence. Jordan sat next to her in a chair by the wall. Having nothing to contribute, she fixated on the clock above a large mounted computer monitor.
0932. Ethan and I had science together then.
Cyan said to Jordan, “I keep thinking about Ethan.”
“Yeah, him and Lily, and what I… what I did…” Jordan said.
She patted his knee. “Yeah… and Tengo, too.”
Jordan nodded, his voice gentle. “They’re not completely gone, you know. Miss Uehara said that Miss Marlowe said they’re in the Ancient Lands. Some place like Heaven, but I don’t know.”
Cyan’s eyes flashed. “But what kind of existence is that? Living in some kind of... paradise but on a demon leash like a dog?” She hugged herself tightly. “Seems kinda lonely to me.”
“I don’t think—”
“We have to find a way to save them,” she said, her jaw set. “I don’t care what it takes. I can’t just leave Ethan there… any of them.”
Jordan shifted in his seat. “But what if we can’t? What if... what if this is how things are supposed to be now?”
Cyan stared at him, shocked. “How can you say that?”
“I dunno,” Jordan admitted. “This whole thing, it’s made me see things different, y’know. School, life, the world... it’s all bigger than I thought… not sure how to think about it. It’s too… big.”
“What do you mean?”
Jordan gestured vaguely. “Look at me, Cyan. I barely fit in this chair. I’ve always been the big guy, the one who stands out. But now?” His head dipped. “I’m not sure I belong in either world. Not this one, and definitely not... whatever’s coming.”
Cyan poked him with her elbow. “Lily would’ve thought that was so cool. You gettin’ all philosophical.”
“Yeah, she prolly would’ve”. He paused, then added, “But that’s just it. Lily’s gone. Ethan’s gone. Everything’s changing, and I don’t know how to change with it.”
Cyan’s face crumpled. “I know. I feel the same. For reals, I’m scared, Jordan…” she said. “I’m so scared. But I won’t let that hold me down like I used to. I can’t… not anymore.”
***
In the break room, Yumi sat on the counter. Rika was in front of her in a chair, her face hard, spine rigid.
“Man, what a wild ride this has been,” Yumi said, shaking her head. “One minute I’m teaching Japanese, the next I’m battling demons and closing interdimensional gates.”
Rika returned an empty smile.
Yumi jumped from the counter and hugged her. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She frowned. “I know. But… if I’d studied a little harder or trained more… maybe I would have seen it… been able to protect him in time.” She drew a shaky breath. “The power of the noro has been passed down for generations in Okinawa. I was supposed to live up to that legacy, and I failed.”
A despondent shadow fell on Yumi’s face. “Your failure is mine. I taught you everything I know, which it turns out isn’t much when it comes to this. Not much when it comes to anything… I still have a lot to learn. I can’t even summon a weapon to fight back. All I could do was… was watch it happen. Being a spectator sucks.”
Yumi’s face fell.
Rika’s hair curtained around her face as she leaned forward. Drops landed below her, small and slight.
Suddenly, Yumi straightened up and handed her a brown paper towel. “It’s alright 後輩. You did your best. And you know what? It hasn’t been a complete fail. We’ve faced down all manner of ユーリー and lived. Dark lord, kijimuna, lizard demons… hell, we almost won that drinking contest!”
Rika blew her nose, then let out a reluctant chuckle. “Right. And technically, we didn’t lose.”
“Damn straight!” Yumi grinned. But then her smile faltered. “Although... thinking about it now, that contest was pretty messed up, wasn’t it? I mean, we were literally gambling with our souls. One wrong move and we could’ve ended up like Ethan and Lily.”
Rika nodded solemnly. “The stakes were higher than we realized. It’s a sobering thought.”
Yumi snorted. “Sobering. Nice pun, Rika.”
“I didn’t mean—” Rika started, then shook her head. “Never mind. You’re right, though. We’ve been playing a dangerous game this whole time.”
“We have.” Yumi thought for a second then said, “There’s something I don’t understand about うふざとう.”
“What about him?”
“Who is he? I mean, I know all the legends and nicknames—“Demon Lord”, “Demon King”, blah blah—but who is he really?”
Rika looked up with her nose red from the coarse paper towel and said, “It took me some time to figure it out, but after I saw Agent Judin’s file today, it hit me.”
Yumi, wide-eyed asked. “Well? Who?”
“He’s my uncle.”
“What!?”
Rika nodded.
“I had an aunt who was a noro. She... she used her powers for personal gain. Charging exorbitant fees for blessings, cursing people who crossed her. The community eventually cast her out. This was many years ago.”
“Okay… so うふざとう is really a woman? Or was a woman, who’s now a man? Like a trans sorta thing?”
Rika shook her head. “No. He was her husband. Remember the old man who disappeared at Zakimi on the day the first gate appeared?”
“Yeah.”
“That was him, my uncle. Jun Shimabukuro…”
Yumi realized her heart was thumping hard. She didn’t know what to say.
Rika blew her nose again. A flush returned to her face.
“Rika… I’m sorry.”
She bit her lip. “Sometimes I wonder if I could be corrupted like that, y’know. If I’m a lousy noro because I’m more like them… because I’m not worthy of the power.”
Yumi reached out, gripping Rika’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t talk like that. You’ve been fighting this whole time for others. You’ll never be like them.”
Rika gave a weak smile. 「先輩、ありがとう」
「どういたしまして」”Or as the Americans say, ‘don’t touch my moustache’ ha.”
Rika giggled. “Right.” She glanced at her smartwatch. “It’s 1048. Have you spoken to Zena today?”
Yumi wore a gloomy expression. “No. Decided to leave her alone after everything she went through yesterday.”
Rika nodded understanding. “I wonder how she’s doing?”
Chapter 79
Sleep never came last night 昨晩. After I showered to completely sober up, too many thoughts swam in my head. I wanted to talk to James. Needed to. But that wasn’t going to happen. So I stared at his picture. Then a picture of us when we were thinner with thicker hair. That was a mistake, because the pain rolled in. Misery, loneliness—a protracted slow demise—hit my awareness.
The gate to oblivion was welcoming. Full of easing tones, soft light, and pleasant temperature. Everyone was there. James, Yumi, the kids, and the agents, all assembled in pre-catastrophic form. It was as if the world never ripped open. No gates. Zero creatures. No ancient buildings jutted from the landscape. Only the raw beauty and essence of Okinawa as it was and had been for millennia, remained.
A tingling peace warmed me as I walked through them all. Their faces squeezed at congratulatory angles. Head nods of approval for something I had no skill (and didn’t want) to do. Their fawning was foreign.
After the agents, all the spirits I’d come into contact with continued the revelry. Kijimuna, Kata-ashi Pinza, Nobusuma, Chiinouya, Master Orlay, and Garappa were clapping and cheering. Their faces showed no malice. Why? Didn’t I hunt them? Kill them? Maybe not. Perhaps they lived on in some spirit server like Ethan and Lily?
I moved toward the end. Débora and Victor in human form were there. Their applause seemed genuine enough. Then it was Ufuzatou and Suu who were the last. They were happy as well. Why?
I woke up. How long was I asleep? My shoulder throbbed from the twisted angle I’d been in on the couch.
The sun seethed against the curtains. An F-22 bolted overhead. I checked the time. 1039. Against my will, I’d slept. Likely the last rest I’d know for a long time.
***
By the time I reached the Detachment everyone was gathered in the conference room. For the first time, I wasn’t there as a witness or suspect. Freya reminded me of that.
“Just doing our job. You understand, right?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
She slapped my arm awkwardly. “I’m on your side. In a weird way, I always was. Never want to put an innocent woman away. We gotta stick together, y’know?” She held my gaze for a while.
“For sure, your right.”
“Of, course I am.” She went to her seat.
I took no offense at her previous action nor her gauche quasi-apology. It was a scary time. That’s what cops were there for, to take the fear away.
The faces of those left behind after the longest three weeks of my life, were nothing like those in the dream. Drained colorless lumps of sorrow was how I’d describe them. Everyone had lost something along the way. That sacrifice still might be incomplete.
It was Agent Judin who spoke first from the head of the room. “Okay, let’s get started. Time is short so I’ll make this quick. Ufuzatou is an ancient demon from the Ancient Lands. But he needed a vessel to move in our world, so out of convenience or some other unknown reason, he chose this man, Jun Shimabukuro, as his host.”
Judin showed a monochrome picture of a tight-lipped elderly Japanese man. My jaw tightened.
“That’s my uncle,” Rika said.
I sucked in a short breath at the revelation.
Judin cast a glance at Rika.
“He was a farmer. They grew sweet potatoes in Yomitan. His wife, my aunt, was also a noro. But she wasn’t a good one. She dabbled in the darker side of our abilities. I didn’t know my uncle very well, but I can only suspect that he was at least tolerant of her attraction to the shadier path of being a spiritual practitioner.” Her voice trailed off.
Cyan and Jordan cast sympathetic glances in her direction but remained silent.
Judin continued, “Thank you for that information, Rika. It’s very helpful.” He turned back to the slides on the screen. “The gates are doorways to the Ancient Lands. That you knew. But what you probably didn’t is that they are a phenomenon that occur once every thousand years.”
“You mean this has happened before?” Nigel asked, “Then why is there no documentation of it?”
“Because they don’t always appear where we can see, explore, or study them. This might be the first time in history it’s been possible.”
I found myself captivated by this new information. From the looks on everyone’s faces I wasn’t the only one.
Judin’s eyes lit up. “But like any door they work both ways. They can be used for entry or exit. Which one you do, depends on what’s happening on your side.”
“And demon world is the fucked up one right? That’s why they’re coming over,” Jordan said.
“Is our side much better?” I challenged. His expression soured.
Judin went on. “Tonight, on the longest day of the year, Ufuzatou will host the Spirit Conclave. Through our talented cadre of Space Force Astral Analysts, we’ve determined that this is an emergency session of the meeting. It was proposed to deal with the problem of the fading spirit land. An issue that had been going on for some time, even before the appearance of the gates exacerbated it.”
I thought of the golden Ancient Lands I’d seen last night. I imagined a shadow falling over the lush hills. Tumbling castles, conflagration scarring vistas, rivers dead dry, the Tower of Remembrance broken on its side like a kicked over Jenga stack. Ethan, Lily, Tengo… Suu gone. This time for eternity. I massaged my head to make the picture fade.
“What caused the trouble?” Rika asked.
“According to our monitoring, it’s a force called “phantom fade.” Basically, the technology the spirits are stored in fails after some time, which causes the souls to transform into beasts, disappear, or die. This had been going on for decades. When the gates opened, the inhabitants of the Ancient Lands saw an opportunity to enter our reality to save theirs. I’d like to think we’d have done the same if our positions were reversed.”
Nobody spoke for a while. It was as if a giant vacuum had pulled all the air out—cold space was all that was left.
I raised my head. “He has D—I mean, Suu. Our world is merging with the Ancient Lands. How do we get to the last gate to end this?” I asked.
Judin shook his head. “There’s some type of energy barrier surrounding the former castle ruins. It’s dangerous. If you go too close, you might instantly be turned into a demon. That’s what happened to Mr. Shimabukuro.”
I thought for a second, but no solutions came to mind.
Then a short Black woman with a stern face entered. “There’s two people here to see y’all. They said they might be able to help get in the castle and save the world. Said somethin’ about ‘makin’ up’ for what they done. Should I let them in?”
Judin considered his options.
“Yes.”
“Ookay.” She left. For a minute, I stared at the floor. With every second my remaining humanity slipped away.
Then from the hallway, two faces I never expected to see walked in.
My former boss, Principal Victor Kane and his associate, Dr. Débora Araújo walked in sullen and sorry.
After this morning’s dream, I wasn’t surprised to see them. But that was me. The room erupted in slow murmurs at their entrance. The only other one who shared my unrustled attitude was Judin.
“I’m surprised to see you both walking upright,” Freya said coldly.
“Who let the dogs out? Woof woof,” Yumi added.
“Why are they here?” Cyan asked. Her eyes narrowed.
Judin called for quiet.
“Everyone, Victor and Débora have been Space Force assets for some time now.”
“Really?” Nigel asked.
Freya banged the table, “You been runnin’ them right under our noses, huh? I shoulda seen that. For how long?”
“Since you closed the third gate,” Victor responded. He shot a confirming glance at Débora. With a slow head nod, she gave her approval.
“I-I knew we were in too deep by that time. We needed a way out. Shortly after that first student, we what was his name again? Basketball player? Always laughing and lying around?”
“His name is Ethan!” Cyan’s voice cracked. The lack of sleep in her red eyes crushed my heart.
“Y-yes, how could I forget Ethan.” Victor said. His face began to glow with sweat despite the frigid conference room.
“I, uh, we, couldn’t bear to see another child hurt or lost. So when Agent Judin approached us we agreed to report everything we saw working with the enemies of humanity.”
I eyed Débora with suspicion. “Oh, well it’s all true. It wasn’t easy.”
“Easier than nearly drowning in the dark sea at the foot of a black monk titan? Or dying in a fire you started?” Yumi asked with bitterness.
“Or watching your cousin be impaled by four demonic shades?” Rika said, speaking faster and louder than usual.
“Or nearly falling hundreds of feet into stormy water off an aerial obstacle course,” Nigel fumed.
Débora said nothing.
Victor’s eyes grew moist. “W-we didn’t know it would go that far! We, uh, I (at least) am sorry. With position and authority, I thought I was incorruptible. Turns out I was sitting at the top of a tiny mound in the foothills of a metaphorical mountain. So small I could barely see or comprehend the force that crushed them, or controlled me.”
“How poetically pathetic,” Freya said.
Judin waved her to be quiet. “It was I who arranged to have them extracted immediately after Ufuzatou graciously returned them to human form.”
“But you failed to stop me from sealing the gate. Why would he reward you?” I asked running low on patience.
Débora said slowly, “Oh, you poor thing, didn’t you know? Every gate sealed increases his power. If he crowned himself the demon king before, he’ll be the god of demons by the end of the night. What good are two,” she swallowed, “dogs to a god.”
Judin nodded. “At my request, Victor and Débora leaked your acquisition of Spirit Service to Ufuzatou. When he realized you’d accessed the Ancient Lands with Suu, he sent Garappa after you to crush both of you. Meanwhile, he was so pleased with their loyalty at going above and beyond, he made them human again, even though they failed their original task.”
Victor’s armpits had dark wet circles beneath them. “Right after. Agent Judin pulled us out into a Space Force safe house.”
“Some hovel in Okinawa City, ick,” Débora complained.
“But we were safe,” Victor said with relief.
The entire room processed their story with conflicted responses. Hostility that they’d played such a large role in facilitating the Ancient Ones and had been assisting us all this time clashed against Judin’s cleverness. But in the end, they found little love among us.
For the first time, my thudding heart reached my awareness. Me? Against a god? How can I win?
Débora noted my discomfort. A sly smirk curved onto her lips, “Yes, he’s a very scary one, Ufuzatou. I’ve seen him lose it upclose. You have cause to be fearful. He’s intensely powerful. But… he has a weakness.”
“Which is?”
She pointed at my hand, “That glove. With it, you can use the power of the sealed gates to overcome him.”
I rotated my wrist to view the back of the glove. “This? Can kill him?”
Débora continued, “Suu knew this. That’s why he’s been storing souls on the side. To power the gauntlet and overthrow Ufuzatou. Now, it’s on you.”
I felt all eyes on me. For a moment, indecision paralyzed me. If I killed Ufuzatou, what would become of the Ancient Lands? Would they continue their decline? Who would take his place? What about Master Orlay’s reformers? And then there was my demi-brother, Ezra, and.. Mama. If I lose access to that place beyond, would I ever be able to find them?
Your mother’s soul... it’s alive… in the Ancient Lands. And your brother, he’s there too…
Suu’s words reverberated as if he were in the room.
But if I didn’t win, I’d likely become an eternal demon slave to Ufuzatou, and the Ancient Lands would merge into our world… with unknown consequences.
This time, I was the speck spiraling in an indifferent universe. One with the power to permanently alter it. I had no idea if I could do it. But whatever action I took would be the last I did in the world as I knew it.
Chapter 80
夜が早く来た。Night came fast. We’d formed our plan, broken up into teams, then left. Everyone went their own way to gather up whatever reserves of courage they had to face the inevitable.
There was still slight sun at 2045. Sweat dotted my legs as I squatted at the rise leading up to the Zakimi Castle ruins, now Zakimi Castle reborn. Like any old castle, it sat on a flat hill with circular views that included the sea and surrounding Yomitan area. I’d been to the top once with James when we’d first arrived on island. A refreshing breeze shifted my hair and sun dress while we lost ourselves in the peace-bringing display of Okinawa. On that forgotten castle wall, I was rooted to this place, its people and presence. It was alive. I knew this was where I belonged. But if things went bad tonight, it might not exist anymore.
“Hey, you still with us?” Yumi nudged me, while stealing glances at her Space Force blaster.
“Yeah, I’m here, just a little nervous.”
“Me too, I hope I don’t blow a finger off with this thing.”
I couldn’t even spare a chuckle. My back was tight with anxiety.
She slapped my shoulder. “Hey, Z, I get it. Well actually… I don’t. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. But I know whatever you decide to do, whatever you’re able to do, will be enough.” Her eyes locked on mine, “Promise me you’ll remember that?”
I allowed a sliver of a smile to show. “I will.”
Rika whispered, “Okay, remember the plan. As soon as we see the signal from Judin, that means Victor and Débora have done their part to get us safely through the soul ruining barrier. Then we go.”
Yumi and I nodded. Cyan and Jordan scooted close. I swallowed at their presence, but they’d earned their right to decide their future for themselves. If that meant, fighting or… dying here… then I doubt they’d have any regrets.
“Both of you stay close.”
“We will,” Cyan said. Her twin periwinkle tonfa gave off ethereal light.
“We won’t let you down, Miss Marlowe,” Jordan said. Gripping his short spear and shield combination, he was the image of a young warrior. I was immensely proud of them both.
Black-bottomed clouds rolled by in the orange-tinted twilight. I could barely see the sun, which was a good thing. It made spotting the signal much easier against the dark.
Then it went up. A ball of burning red trailed by smoke sailed into the air. Time to go.
We ascended the hill. At the stone stairs, Victor and Débora were there wearing strained faces. Together they held up some contraption—probably another one of Judin’s Space Force toys—to allow us entry into the wooded area outside of the castle. They trembled, shedding sweat in the humid heat.
“Go in! Hurry!” Victor shouted. Without acknowledgement, we passed them then continued up the rocky steps.
As soon as I reached the top, cubed rifts ballooned in the air. Four of them all round. A bright flash, then they were there. Blood-eyed ghosts in the form of all the foes we’d defeated on the way here.
I thrust my arm out, then the kama was there. Suu’s glove on my other hand. This was it.
The others followed with weapons sharp and glinting, arms flexed.
“Here they come!” Cyan said.
Kijimuna attacked. Cyan heaved a heavy blow. It shrieked away in a rushed vapor.
Nobusama swooped. Rika swatted it down. A mush of black blood oozed onto the grass.
Chiinoya whispered an amplified love note. Jordan sidestepped, thrust, then with his shield bashed her head in again and again until red dripped from his hands.
Garappa snapped his jaws at Yumi. She shot but wasn’t ready for the recoil. She hit the ground. The great lizard rushed.
“DEMON SHOT SLICE!” I yelled. The kama split the air. A second later, the lower half of his jaw fell in the dirt. The tongue still lashing and spitting for moments after, until it finally stilled.
“Thanks,” Yumi said still wobbling. I helped her up. Her hands were ice cold. “Is that it?” She asked with feigned casualness.
“Shit more are coming,” Jordan said between clenched teeth.
More midnight cubes appeared. All with eyes burning like fire pit embers against coal-dark frames. There were too many to count.
Freya and Nigel joined the fray. They were the last to enter the battle area.
A copy of Kata-ashi Pinza charged. Nigel aimed his Space Force phantom blaster and missed. “Shit!”
“Tammy!” Yumi yelled.
Freya slid and shot it down in a boom of blue light. The fiendish farm animal was no more. Breathless she stood, and looked at Nigel, “‘Tammy’? Really?”
He shrugged with a smirk, then ran to join Yumi. Freya followed close behind snickering.
Then she asked, “Zena, how much humanity do you have left?”
I pulled out the modded smartphone to view the screen.
“Five percent!”
“Great! Plenty of time,” she said sarcastically.
Just then, more shadow cubes formed around us. The same damn demons, more. There were five, six… I lost count.
Freya aimed her weapon.
Nigel squared beside her.
Cyan and Jordan in offensive stances.
Yumi stood behind, aiming her weapon with quivering hands.
INCOMING SPACE SUPPORT! Judin’s voice sounded as if it came from a mall loudspeaker.
A large drone buzzed above. There was a beat of quiet before the booms. Everyone covered their eyes as mini eggplant purple explosions rained down on the ghouls circling us.
Freya flashed a thumbs up as the drone circled.
From the sky Judin said, “Zena! Head into the heart of the castle. We’ll take care of things out here!”
I gave Freya and the others a final melancholic glance. She, Nigel, Rika, Cyan and Jordan were winded, but still ready to fight. Judin has space superiority. Now it was on me.
Yumi put her hand on my shoulder. “Time to face the demonic-music. Go get em’!”
I inclined my head affirmatively, then darted toward the entrance of the castle ruins to find my faith.
Chapter 81
I entered the castle 城.
What I found there stopped me in my tracks. Nothing?
The wind, sounds of battle behind me, and my own shallow breathing were all I heard.
With only the light from my kama to guide me, I held it like a torch. Nothing.
This restored castle was a shell. The only contents were the grass and ghosts of imagination along with the swirling sea scent.
I went deeper. Then there was a light above. I followed it to what had been the highest area of the ruins. That place where my husband and I said hello to Okinawa.
There.
The seventh and final fisherman’s orb was on a pedestal. An unearthly crimson-gradient light pulsed from its surface. I approached with careful steps, wary of a trap. Unguarded. Unprotected. Feels
too easy. Ignoring my thudding heart, I took a last look at the kama. Damned. If I do or don’t, I’m damned. Maybe I was from the start.
“This has to end. You got this, c’mon.”
With a deep breath, I swung. That was all it took. The core shattered, fragments scattering across the stone floor. Like the other six gates, it produced a visual feast, throwing brilliant blades of luminescence around the chamber, sucking, gasping like a collapsing star. When it was over, a colorful orb flew out and found the kama.
The weapon glowed grand red. But there was no excess heat. I watched it absorb all color, night consuming day, as the power grafted somewhere deep inside. For a second I could hear the heartbeat of the island through blade.
“Wha?”
Then it oozed thick blood. My arm raised, out of control. And I slashed the air, forming a yawning portal. At first it stared at me, like every other demi-gate I’d seen before. But when a ring of razor teeth, all pointed snake fangs, appeared at the edges, my breath hitched in horror. Spin, spin faster was what it did, right before it zipped into the air above me, then descended like a horrendous hula hoop.
I plummeted into its depths. I screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the void.
***
I’m still breathing.
Pulse beating against my forehead, I opened my eyes.
Warm light flooded my vision. I blinked, disoriented, as an entirely new world hit my senses. I stood atop a wooded mountain, a cathedral-like structure looming before me. Its spires stretched toward a golden sky, unlike anything I’d ever seen on Earth.
The Ancient Lands. I’m back.
When whispers tickled the hair in my ears. I knew I had to go inside. I followed the sound, my footsteps silent on the polished floor. The passageway opened into a vast domed room, and my heart leapt into my throat at the sight.
Ufuzatou stood in the center, his imposing figure dwarfed by the chamber’s grandeur. But he wasn’t alone. Three cloaked figures sat on a raised bench, high above the ground level. This was some cosmic courtroom, they were the judges. What were they adjudicating? I’d find out soon enough. The judges were different sizes. Even from a distance, I could sense they were far from human.
To the side of the bench, on a raised platform, I saw Suu. He hung suspended, his arms bound by blood-drenched razor wire. His head lolled, consciousness clearly fading. What had they done to him?
One of the three judges spoke from under a hood. Its voice reverberated through me as if a massive bell had rung next to me. I stood defensive.
“Is she the one?”
It removed its hood. He had a colossal skull, faded yellow like coffee-stained teeth. The terror dawned softly, then all at once. My stomach seized at the sight of him. An old uncleaned attic smell whooshed at me, causing my eyes to water. The empty eye sockets sparked red with ancient intelligence. I heard a voice, from the kama: がしゃどくろ Gashadokuro, Warden of the Ancient Lands.
Next, the one on the side, removed its hood. It was a… woman?
“Welcome, Zena,” the woman to its left said, her voice flowing with reverence. Though cloaked, her presence radiated warmth and life. Strands of vine-like hair peeked from beneath her hood, and the air around her smelled of rich soil and blooming flowers. The kama whispered. ママ Mother, Representative of Earth.
I swallowed hard. Mother? It can’t be.
The final figure, a big-bodied individual, inclined slowly toward me. Just his gaze made me shake.
The hood came off. An animal stared back. A bull, with scars old and new lining the furry face. Chunky tusks protruded from the sides of flexing nostrils. A long tongue reached out of the mouth to wet its nose. The smell of fresh fertilizer waved around when his snort blew my hair back.
One last word from the kama: ブル (Bull) Chairman of the Spirit Conclave.
“Yes, yes, it’s her. Ufuzatou, can we get down to business?”
“Of course,” Ufuzatou replied. He turned to face me. “We’ve been waiting for you, Zena Marlowe. Excellent work on sealing all seven gates.”
My attention snapped back to Suu, fury rising in my chest. “Let Suu go!”
Ufuzatou’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he walked over to Suu. With two massive fingers he gingerly lifted Suu’s chin.
“This man is a traitor and a thief. The souls he stole were mine to command.”
Ufuzatou faced Bull.
“Request permission to execute this derelict being and fling his ashes into seas of nothingness.”
“A moment of deliberation, if you please,” Bull said.
The great Skeleton and Mother leaned in. I saw heads nodding as I held my breath. Something told me not to intervene.
Finally, Bull looked up.
“Proceed.”
“No! This isn’t fair!” I said. “There was no trial or evidence. How can you convict him?”
Ufuzatou looked at me with pity. The same expression he regarded me with that night at the second gate.
“Have you forgotten? Our codes do not follow human convention. You standing here is evidence enough of his malfeasance.”
“Wait… don’t hurt him…”
Suu’s eyes found mine, and he mouthed something. Have faith.
Before I could react, Ufuzatou plunged a fist into Suu’s chest with Homelander barbarity. A terrible crack echoed through the chamber, followed by a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed as Ufuzatou ripped out Suu’s still-beating heart. He held it aloft for a moment, then tossed the quivering organ to the floor.
Suu’s spark faded, dimmed, then died.
My eyes grew hot. “No! Why!?” I fell to my knees.
“There,” Ufuzatou said remorselessly. “He is free.”
A scream of agonized fury tore from my throat. The world around me blurred and my vision tunneled, until all I could see was Suu’s lifeless body. My father. The man I’d only just discovered, the missing piece of my past I’d longed for all these years. Crushed in an instant.
Memories flashed through my mind: his undying belief in truthseeking, Kokusai Street, meeting James, the brief moments of connection we’d shared, the Ancient Lands. All cut short, leaving me with a gaping wound where the promise of a relationship had been. Another soul lost, another person I’d failed to protect.
The weight of my failures crashed down on me. James, Ethan, Lily, Tengo, and now Suu. How many more would I lose before this was over? It was hard to breathe.
But beneath the sorrow, a white-hot rage built and built. This was Ufuzatou’s doing. He’d taken my father from me, just as he’d taken so much else. This waving wildfire inside gave me focus, sharpening my senses and driving away the paralyzing fear. I rose.
I took a step forward, my body trembling with the effort of restraining myself. Every fiber of my being screamed to attack, to tear Ufuzatou apart with my bare hands.
“Don’t move!” The Skeleton boomed. I froze, every muscle in my body locking up against my will.
“You must respect the decorum of the Spirit Conclave,” Ufuzatou said.
He turned to the council. “You may proceed with your opening statement,” the Bull said.
“Thank you,” Ufuzatou began. “To the Supreme Council of the Lands, I appreciate the opportunity to speak at this emergency session. I’ll be brief. As you know, the Ancient Lands are fracturing. Our spirit energy is draining and we need a way to save it. Five hundred years…,” Ufuzatou formed the number with his giant hand “That’s how long it’s been since the gates last opened. This time, when they appeared in Okinawa, I saw to seize a chance to enter the human world for a desperate attempt to revive ours.”
“What did you find upon entering their world?” Mother asked.
“A mess,” Ufuzatou replied with repulsion. “Hate, noise, strife, and depression seething on a beautiful sphere. A pure orb rolling on the brink of destruction. Humans have an endless appetite that consumes everything they encounter. The whole self-important species seeks the annihilation of need daily. When the sun rises it is set, when it falls and their bellies and hearts are full, the hunger fades, only to demand a new anxious remedy upon the dawn of a new day.”
Gashadokuro’s next inquiry shook my bones. “Yes, yes, and what did you determine? Can humanity save the Ancient Lands?”
“Collectively, no,” Ufuzatou said. “But some individuals can.” He turned to me, his gaze intense. “She is one of them. With the help of friends and determination of a stubborn animal, she has surpassed every challenge. All battles, blood, and barriers fell before and by her blade. I would nominate no one else to be permitted a seat on this council.”
I stood, shocked into silence. Me? A member of this council? The very idea was absurd.
“I don’t want to join you!” I blurted out. “I’m here to—”
“Prevent your transformation into one of us? Or to save your world?” Ufuzatou interrupted, his face calm but his stance hardening. “Which one is it, Zena Marlowe?”
“I-I want to do both,” I stammered.
The council erupted in laughter.
“I thought you said she was different?” Bull puffed heated air that made my clothes flutter.
“Just like all the rest,” Skeleton vibrated.
“Zena, Zena,” Mother sighed, shaking her head.
Ufuzatou’s expression went full midnight. “Your wanting knows no end. I figured as much. You’ve suffered so much, and journeyed so far to close the gates,” he brandished his finger like the tip of a sword aimed at my throat. “You’ve lost everything. Your students, profession, your family, including your witless husband, James, and you stand to lose your very soul within minutes, yet you still resist? Ha! Humans are all the same. Undone by righteous integrity, you are a failed species.”
“Council!” He spun to them, tossing his threadbare robes with dramatic flair. “May I have your blessing?”
Skeleton nodded with a rattling ガチガチと.
Mother gave a reluctant sigh. “Granted.”
Bull approved with a wave. “Be quick.”
Ufuzatou faced me once more, loosening his neck and shoulders. When he cracked his massive knuckles, the sound bounced around the chamber, settling in my bones like a physical weight. The air around him seemed to shimmer, as if even reality cowered before him. His eyes, once dark and unfathomable, now blew into a brushfire to match his hair. A cold front blew down from him causing the fillings in my teeth to throb with aching.
With deliberate slowness, Ufuzatou’s body shifted. His feet slid apart, planting themselves firmly on the polished floor. His knees bent slightly, lowering his center of gravity. His arms, corded with rippling strength, raised to chest level, hands open and fingers slightly curled.
Kama spoke: 剛柔流Gojuuryuu, “hard-soft-style” a style of Okinawan karate.
His stance was immovable.
Every line of his body spoke of centuries of honed skill, melded with inhuman strength and speed. In that moment, facing this perfect melding of human martial prowess and demonic might, was the most frightened I’ve ever been.
Yet, I raised my kama. I could feel it, right there, the human heart shuddering and demon awakening within. The conflicting forces were a headrush of power. So… much… power. I have to… right here, right now. This is over. Suu’s glove shone bright. Everything he’d sacrificed was for this, I couldn’t let it be a waste.
Kama’s final words: prepare yourself, Zena.
“Come, Zena,” Ufuzatou said, his eyes alight with challenge. “It’s time for your final test.”
Chapter 82
He didn’t attack 攻撃しない. But wavy air circled him. It billowed his old robe. His flaming hair grew agitated. A personal typhoon whipped around him. His eyes closed. Then in a burst of effort, he hurled the giant table against the wall. The resulting crash rained splinters down. I slid to the side to avoid being cut.
Now the fight area was free. Skeleton, Mother, and Bull, looked on with muted faces as Ufuzatou’s stance hardened. His shoeless feet swished the floor. Knees bent a little. Arms made “V”s with open palms. A line of white shone over his frame, as if he’d been freshly buffed. He became living stone.
My turn.
I jumped. Higher than ever before. Then angled into a pointed dive. Weapon out, ready to cleave. A mighty cry left my lips. Hair flying. I hit. But there was no effect. I fell back tumbling, hurt. On my feet fast. Up! Blade shaking, I assumed an undaunted
fight position. His eyes were still shut. The council members watched intently. I couldn’t tell if the stares granted support or requested surrender. Their judgment came all the same.
I dashed ahead. Swung. Upon contact, he sent me away spinning. Dizziness flipped my stomach. I wrenched and spat acidic saliva to the floor. By the time I got my bearings, Ufuzatou’s eyes opened. I lunged in offense. So did he.
セーユンチ。
In a flash, he closed the distance. His arm shot out. It hooked around my attacking arm and pulling me off balance. Before I could regain my footing, his other hand struck my solar plexus with pinpoint accuracy.
The blow knocked the wind out of me, and I fell backward, laboring to breathe. Ufuzatou remained in his stance, boulder-solid, unbreakable. I shook my head to clear the spots from my vision. My body screamed in protest, but I forced myself to stand straight.
I slashed again. His head recoiled. A spot of blood on the face was all it did. His shoulder twitched. The next attack was coming.
サンチン。
His body tensed, becoming impossibly rigid.
His fist shot out in a blur, aimed straight for my chest. The air around it flexed. I tried to dodge, but I was too slow.
The impact hit like a freight train. I flew across the room, crashing into a pillar. Something cracked inside me. Pain exploded as if a match struck oil.
For a moment, the world went dark. When my vision cleared, I found myself on the ground. Every breath was agony. Blood dribbled from my mouth.
The council’s faces were distant. They offered cheers nor jeers.
Ufuzatou’s body snapped into action. He quick-stepped over then shotgunned a kick at me.
上段蹴り。
His foot whistled through the air, aiming for my head.
I rolled to the side, barely avoiding the strike. His foot smashed into the floor, cracking the tiles. Debris scattered. I scrambled to my feet, swaying off-balance. My vision fuzzed up. The room spun. Not like this. I won’t…
I launched into another cutting descent. But once in the air, faked, “DEMON SHOT SLICE!” Kama became a missile in the moment. One target. One job. When the explosion came, I swear the air clipped with booming fire.
A slit of blood dripped from his face. I’d turned him into an anime hero.
That shift in his eyes, signaled his next move.
転掌突き。
His hand whirled in a circular motion, gathering power.
I tried to brace myself. Too slow. His palm connected with my chest. The impact sent shockwaves through my body. I felt something inside me shift, crack. The world tilted. I toppled, wheezing. My legs gave out. I hit the ground hard.
My vision swam. Dark spots danced at the edges. There was blood on my tongue.
How much humanity did I have left? The pain, desperation, sighing at an unwinnable fight: I was still flesh, bone, and soul. I probably wouldn’t be for much longer.
With slow movement I tightened Dad’s silver glove. It shown with the light of the seven gates. In a hallucinogenic flash, there was Ethan, Lily, Jordan, Cyan, Rika, James and Yumi, all sending happy vibes of healing light down. The three agents: Freya, Nigel, and Judin seemed to cast a shield of justice against future harm. All souls swarmed at the border of my fist as my aching jaw hung slack in awe. Ufuzatou flinched. Time to make my move.
Have faith.
I clenched my fist. Spirit power coursed through me. The glove pulsed with a surreal light, each beat sending waves of energy up my arm. The pain in my body faded, replaced by a surge of strength I’d never known before.
Ufuzatou’s eyes widened, a stab of uncertainty crossed his stony features. For the first time, he took a step back. I saw my chance. With a primal roar, I launched myself forward. The world blurred around me as I moved faster than I thought possible. My fist, now a blazing comet of countless souls, streaked towards Ufuzatou’s face.
It connected. He staggered to the side. I threw another pained punch. Another hit. His stance faltered. I pulled back to attack. But his move came again.
転身抜拳。
Ufuzatou’s fingers formed a rigid spiraling spear aimed at my throat.
I ducked, feeling the air whoosh above my head. But he was too fast. His other hand caught me in the ribs. I heard a break. Pain exploded through my side. I tottered, thinking nonsense. I wasn’t seeing straight. But the glove pulsed again. Strength flooded back. I gritted my teeth and stood my ground. Somehow, I shot the punch off.
It carved a gash in his head so deep, blood ran like a river, like the eyes of the students that set me down this path. It soaked his face and robe. Stunned. Though I could barely stand, I sent another gloved fist at him.
“Demon Fist!”
The air crackled with dark energy, waving like the hottest desert day. Target impact. Ufuzatou fell to the floor.
Chest heaving, on the brink of blackout, I dragged myself—a bloody shambling mess, hair streaked in sweat soaked red—over then fell to my knees. I mounted him like a UFC fighter, then raised my fist. To my surprise, his frozen body caused no shivers or gave resistance.
“This… is over, Jun-san.”
The council was on their feet.
Bloodied, bruised, Ufuzatou coughed. “You… you’ve become quite the demoness. The spirits you’ve silenced, horrors you’ve witnessed, blood you’ve spilt… it rivals my deeds…you… you’ll do… you’ll do.”
“DEMON HAMMERFIST!”
Without hesitation, fear or pain, I dropped my fist with anvil crushing power. One strike fueled by fury, fear, and frustration at the cruelness of this world. Everything I’d been forced to do, the monster I’d become, atrocity after atrocity, sickened by this fragile human shell, all I’d failed to do, I sent it down with the rapture of Revelations that sent a shockwave throughout the Ancient Lands and the Earth beyond. Then, boom, I flattened his face. It crumbled like an ice cube viced between two teeth.
I rolled off the melting robes. Pain pierced every inch of my body, but I stood and faced the council. Mother spoke.
“Welcome to the Council, Zena Marlowe.”
Epilogue
It’s weird being a junior. Like, I should feel older or something, right? But everything’s pretty much the same. I’m thinking about trying out for cheerleading again this year. Doris says it’ll look good on college apps, but I’m not sure. It’s just another thing to add to the pile of normal high school stuff.
The new principal is... intense. Probably ex-military, with that severe haircut and ramrod-straight posture. I try to avoid her when I can. It’s easier that way, less chance of accidentally saying something I shouldn’t.
I’m sitting in class, bored out of my mind, when I catch Jordan’s eye. We look at each other for a split second before quickly turning away. It’s been like this since... well, since everything happened. I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, half-expecting to see a portal opening behind me. Sometimes, when I’m alone in the hallways, I catch
glimpses of shadows moving where they shouldn’t be.
It’s all because of this. A jumble of thoughts and notes from a woman whose sanity slipped away a little at a time. When I found it while helping the others clean out her classroom (after it was all over), there was this tense feeling. Right on top of everything in the drawer was this heavy stack of journal entries and records, a diary of the nightmare. Her record. Our record.
For some reason, I felt like it was our secret to share, so at first I didn’t tell anyone about it. But when I got it home, it just kept calling me. After practice, before bed, as soon as I got up, for a week straight, I couldn’t get away from it. So I told Jordan.
He flipped through it without really reading. His face told me he couldn’t do it. I don’t blame him. In that low-sliding voice he does when he’s stressed, he said, “‘Okinawa’s gates.’ That’s what we should call it.”
“How about, ‘Gates of Okinawa’? I think she would’ve liked that more.”
He nodded yes. That’s how we named it.
We tried not to think about how it got in her desk, or who wrote it. Because she didn’t do it alone. Because it feels like words written by multiple people or someone with split personalities, like, somehow, the entire time they saw and knew everything. Some of it gives me the same sense of creepiness, a heavy sinking feeling, I felt for most of that period of my life. The whole world slows after even a brief glance.
That’s why I don’t read it, well, at least not all at once. There are happy memories in there, but most of it is black. I feel like I can’t go in without a guide or part of me will be trapped in it, just like before.
We both had theories: about how it came to exist, how she wrote it, why she wrote it, and what it meant, but none seemed right. Stumped, we dropped the topic completely. Haven’t talked about it since.
When I tell other kids about what happened last summer, they don’t believe me (even though everything’s there in the book ‘Gates of Okinawa’ like some unholy Bible.)
And who would? I barely do. There’s not much proof. There were vigils for Ethan, Lily, and Tengo. But the rest was gone. There were no ancient castles breaking the horizon. No portals leading to some mythical land long forgotten. The spirits were silent again. Retreating to the corners of the island where only those who listened carefully could hear them. Before, that wasn’t me. Now I know them like friends.
Miss Marlowe was never found.
The cops combed the ruins. One weekend, we all took shifts and searched for two days. Back and forth over the same patches of grass, below the trees, on the chipped castle walls, nothing. The whole time I thought, "we’re not searching, we’re waiting." For what? None of us were sure. But the agents (Freya and Nigel) were confident we wouldn’t find her body. Judin seemed most disturbed by this conclusion. He said something about this case remaining open for eternity. He’s probably not wrong.
I heard a rumor the other day. That if you were in Miss Marlowe’s old classroom with a bunch of students talking at the same time, you might see something. The air conditioner would stutter. Then the lights would randomly turn off. It happened a few times. But soon after, some kid would confess to having flicked the lights off. In remembrance? As a prank? Either way it wasn’t her.
In that way she never really died. We’d remember. Then pass it on to the ones down the line. Isn’t that how stories go? How legends are born? Just like this one. There’s immortality in these pages. It’s sad so many had to die to reach it.
Miss Uehara (Yumi) stops by to check in on me sometimes. We say a few words, things get weird, then we go our separate ways. I’m kinda glad I don’t have her class anymore. One time she said Rika was doing better. Her noro skills were improving. Said she keeps taking trips to where the gates appeared, hoping, praying, and practicing. Her vigil is a very religious calling. It’s been like that for a year now.
Last week, someone swore they saw Ethan in the cafeteria, but when they turned to look again, he was gone. I ran to the spot to confirm, but ended up disappointed. Are we all just seeing things now? Or is it just me?
We were working on a group project today. You were there. The class was loud, just like normal. I was at the front doing my part of a presentation when the old air conditioner rumbled. The class went cold, and I could have sworn I heard a faint whisper just before the lights went out.
Nobody was standing near the switch.
Lost Notes
Short Stories from
“Gates of Okinawa”
The Vote
Through blistering wind and sopping rain, the creed can’t be ignored.
You know that.
We’ve lived our lives in service of it. Now the time has come again to perform community, for the sake of a grand cause.
Where am I going? I’m headed out. I’ll meet you at the place where the arch of darkness harnesses the will of that vengeful spirit. Don’t forget your phone.
What are we doing? You understand I can’t disclose all to you. That’s not the way this works. Written is sacred. Scared? Don’t be. There’s a reason we’ve set it up this way.
Secret measures we must all keep as we move among the villages ravaged by fauna, spiders hanging in wait shielding trodden paths through the wet forest winding and twisting to an abandoned waterway, linking a bat haven of spiked stalactites pointed to a gaping gap to hell, jealous whispers flying against 外人 lips, shh they can’t know – never tell them, keep pace and keep your place, that’s all you need to do. Understand?
You see, now we’ve arrived. The next pass point. Here the forest is too thick to think, rest a while. Out here, no glowing storefronts. No hum of
refrigerators to break the silence. Just you and that precious cargo in the pack.
Our livelihood depends on its faithful delivery. Dogs howl, cats mew, birds swoop before darkness falls. How do you live like this, you ask?
We have since the old times. Land of the seven deities, mud crusted blood in their backs before the field of corpses (slayed, by them of course). It was a peaceful time. One when I roved to hovels of the low ones, only to ascend to the greatest heights. I was a scribe. A writing wretch saving words for the ones with great ability.
I was content with my existence as you should be for yours. To be 選択した for this errand is quite an achievement, for you. Anyway, I was content, happy, until one of my own received a note, much like the one you carry.
That was a dark day.
Those awful groans, the streaks of split nails down to the bed when they pulled him out – wow… well that’s enough. We should continue on. Still have a lot of ground to cover.
The leaves behind us shift, though no wind stirs. The ferrymen have passed through here recently. Their scent clings to the air—cold iron and rotting wood. Don’t rest too long.
Wake up!
You fell asleep! I know you’re tired, but this is a dangerous place to do that. Trees close in overhead, swallowing the moon. Stars flicker and vanish behind clouds. Move too fast, and you’ll end up there.
見てるか? That patch of lazy leaves? It’s no wind trick. A pit is back there. So deep no one knows the depth. That’s not the only obstacle. Twin ferrymen inhabit this part of Yanbaru. Who are they?
The last two you want to see wandering here in the dead night as we do now.
The last two you will see if they see you first.
Paddlers to hell, no mercy to sell – passengers who accept a ride float to oblivion and are never seen again. Keep your eyes forward.
You still have it don’t you?
It’s morning and we’ve almost reached the others. If we don’t have it, if YOU don’t have it the procedure can’t go on.
There it is. Don’t scare me like that.
You were weighted walking, dragging as a snail does, cone-bound soft, a stain of sorrow trailing behind – pitiful thing.
Stay close, we’ve arrived to open glade where the deal goes down. Follow my lead.
“おはようございます! I see you’ve brought someone else to our… selection. Good, that’s good.
“Yes I did. They’ve been very cooperative. See they even brought the ballot. (Show them).”
“Very good, this year’s vote is so important. It’s so exciting to see who will be chosen. Ready to decide join the others? I’ll meet you there.”
You’re fortunate to be here. We don’t normally let outsiders in. But listen, once the vote begins, there’s no talking until the end ね?
The last vote cost us two. They never even screamed when the blades went in. Be grateful you’re just observing.
There’s five voters, me, four others and you’ll be an observer. It’s easy.
What are we voting on?
Be patient to find out. Shh, it’s starting.
“Is everyone here?”
はい。
“Please cast your votes via the written ballot. Once submitted, all votes are final. Number five, you’re up first.”
“Voted.”
“Number four?”
“Voted.”
“Number three?”
“Done.”
“Number 二?”
“Submitted.”
“Number one?”
“Number one, where is your vote?”
It’s here, standing beside me.
“Hmm, this is unusual, but there’s nothing in our regulations against it. I’ll tally the votes. しばらく待ってください。
Thanks for seeing this through. I knew you’d do well. It had to be you.
“Well everyone, the decision this time was unanimous. Since Number one went through trouble, we’ll go with this one. Bring out your blades!”
The others step forward, the blades catching the weak morning light, edges dark with old stains. You open your mouth to protest, but the words shrivel on your tongue. Too late. The blades are already in hand.
No hard feelings. ごめん。
Catch
This trip into the 森 forest will be your last.
You swear it. You’ve sworn it before, more than once. Now the words hang loose around your mind, like an undersized coat. No more excuses, no turning back.
Now march. Let the business, broken relationship, the overdraft fall away. Buried. Among the bones and beetles compacted in the seething forest floor, they decay. This hunt is a reckoning.
The buzzing breath of the northern Okinawan woods exhale moist on your neck. Mosquitos suck at your skin: legs, arms, face, chest. Then float away bulked with blood. More life leaves.
Ground sounds beneath your boots with each step – a mixed mulch of rotting leaves, and the soft collapse of forgotten things.
Every movement grinds a thousand tiny deaths. You listen: crunch, crunch, splat, crack. Beneath it all, the forest murmurs at the edge of hearing.
A branch snaps—close, deliberate.
Stop. Listen.
What was that sound?
Almost too afraid to look, you swivel around. Behind, branches sway into the steamy day. A contorted tunnel of trees posing in suspicious forms. There was a scurrying - you swore it - a scratch
scratch of underbrush dashing past your back. A boar? Maybe.
You’d read there were no wild animals here. Even they knew to stay away, but you kenneled that side of yourself years ago.
The gear you carry makes you itch along with the swells rounding on your flesh with every brush of air. Resist scratching.
Fishing rod digs into your shoulder, tackle box swings at your side, knife presses against your hip. The water calls ahead, time to work.
Hidden beyond the trees, the river widens before you – a muddy artery of the planet flowing from a failing heart.
It’s larger than you thought— again, behind you.
More pitter-pattering scrapes in hazing day. Jolt around. Scan. Ignore the bites. Nothing there but footprints in the mud. Yours? Most matched, some seemed small, misshapen. Had someone come before? Were they still here?
Doesn’t matter. The ultimate prize is at hand. That legendary catch (only to be claimed by the most intrepid) is in the deep, you can feel it.
This is it, this journey – a lifetime – carried you to this moment.
Will you step in the water?
(Choose an option. Follow instructions.)
“Yes.” – Read the next paragraph
“No.” – Read the last paragraph
“Ending – 人喰いのミーバイ”
The water is colder than it looked. Sloshing becomes wading, ankles, knees, waist in as the flow of the current sneaks faster around.
Time to cast. With a skilled flick, the reel cranks, line disappearing on the surface. Not long later, you feel a light tug, then a harder one. Soon your back strains to pull against it.
One slip is too many. You don’t know how, but you’re face down in the water, sealed in your clothes, thrashing, unable to let go of the rod with locked hands. Your stinging eyes wash open as a shadow slices the murk, darting up. It’s the last thing you see.
Life becomes legend.
“Ending – Footprints”
You’ve lost your nerve. Suddenly this sojourn feels stupid. Turn back, leave the forest to exhale, return to the life you left so quickly. The trees watch as you turn away. Silent judgment. Something swishes behind you – a soft scuttle, too light to be a person, too deliberate to be nothing. You don’t look back.
Years pass. The shade of what might have been clings like sweat in summer.
‘If only,’ ‘In Okinawa,’ ‘I was there’—each phrase too bitter to pronounce. The forest kept something that day. You’ll never get it back.
You live in pieces. Your body lives on, but your spirit remains in that river.
Regret becomes ruin.
Red-handed
A stinging split in her pinky finger rubbed red. Mari Yanagi sucked the blood away and ignored the burning. Small cuts came with the job. That along with frequent visits to many of Okinawa’s unfrequented places made her work hazardous for the body and mind.
「すぐに辞めます」
She was way past the age when anyone gave a fuck about what she did with her future. The job was a routine. Something that was fun a decade or so ago, but now stole parts of spirit with each day at a site.
The hum of insects swelled around as Mari stepped onto the construction site somewhere north of Kadena Air Base. The spiky honey locust trees swayed in the wind, their twisted branches rustling like brittle bones. Somewhere above, the roar of an F-15 rattled the humid air—one more layer of noise in a place already choked with it.
Mari pulled her helmet low, adjusted the chin strap, and scrolled through her tablet. A new luxury hotel, funded by foreign investors. The thought ticked by but prompted no feeling. Her protest days were long past. More change meant more work – that was it.
But the trees wouldn’t come down without a fight. The land around them was old—sacred, according to the Okinawan elders—and protests were making
permits a nightmare. She’d been sent in to smooth things over, to convince the locals that their spirits and curses should be bulldozed along with the dirt.
Behind her, one of the workers with sun-shrunk skin leaned against a backhoe, lighting a cigarette. He gestured toward the grove of trees nearby, their spiny branches cutting sharp lines against the washed-out sky.
“あの木 Trees are cursed, Yanagi-san. ユーリーだなー。Old spirits.” He chuckled as if it were a joke. 「なんかトラブルでしょう」
Mari forced a polite smile. “It’s just trees. There’s no trouble. They’ll go down like all the rest.” Always some superstition. It was the same with every job—old timers with stories about spirits, old gods, and curses. She shrugged it off, picturing that ice cold Orion waiting in her fridge after a long day.
A sea gust blew a sheet of dust across her boots. She looked down and swore there was a tiny handprint there. Mari kicked the dust off and kept moving. Probably just the heat.
The first tree loomed ahead, a massive honey locust. Mari approached, trailing her fingers along the rough bark. She stopped midstride.
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous,” she said.
A girl stood in the shade of the branches. Her black hair a tangled curtain over her pale face. She wore a royal red furisode—an elaborate silk kimono with wide trailing sleeves brushing the ground, and stared up at the arms of the tree with eyes that seemed to belong to someone much older.
Mari squinted at the girl’s face, a stitch of discomfort bubbled deep in her gut. It wasn’t the first time the work crew had tried to spook her with ghost stories—but this? Way too far. But she could feel the weight of the girl’s gaze like a hand pressed to her chest, the kind that forces you to notice every breath you take.
It’s the heat, she told herself, just the heat.
“Do you know what waits in the branches?” the girl whispered.
Mari followed the girl’s eyes into the canopy, just as the wind kicked up again.
A flash of red flickered between the branches, followed by a wet slap against the earth. Mari froze.
On the dirt, a child’s severed hand twitched once, curling its tiny, cracked fingers. Slowly, it dragged itself into the undergrowth, leaving behind a dark, sticky trail.
Mari took a step back, her heart hammering, but when she looked for the girl again, she was gone.
***
Back at her apartment, Mari cracked open a tall can of Orion, then took five large gulps.
「ああぁ気持ちいい」
She set it down then let out a large burp. That one was dedicated to her stuffy ex-husband. She scanned her email inbox on her old laptop. Utility rate hike would be expensive this year. Damn. With the Japanese economy in the swirling like a large turd in the toilet, perhaps it was too early to quit after all.
Another email pinged in. She took another sip of beer as she read it. A new job offer from a rival company glared from the top of the screen, promising higher pay and a fresh start. Tempting. But leaving now would burn bridges, and the construction company had been her safety net through the mess of her divorce. Walking away felt too much like failure. Waiting was the best option for now.
She leaned back and rubbed at her eyes, exhaustion settling in her bones. It wasn’t just the heat. Something had been off all day—since that hand dropped from the tree. She shook the bad thoughts away.
A faint knock pulled her attention toward the window. Without thinking, Mari reached out and opened it.
A small red hand clutched the window frame.
It was no larger than a child’s, slick with blood, the nails dark and cracked. It twitched once, twice—then crawled down the wall and vanished into the night.
「いや!」
Mari dropped her beer, then slammed the window shut, her pulse thudding painfully in her ears. A smear of blood marked the glass. She took quicksteps to the kitchen, swiped up a towel, then returned, to furiously wipe it away, but it only smudged deeper, a dark streak that wouldn’t come clean.
***
The next day, the trees came down.
Mari stood stiffly by the machinery as workers hacked at the roots of the old honey locust trees, the sharp whine of chainsaws biting into bark; the splintered wood flying, cracking. Red stone markers appeared beneath the soil, each one stamped with handprints—small, childlike imprints pressed deep into the rock.
Mari’s radio crackled with static. She turned it off, trying to push down the unease spreading through her, but it hung heavier than her protective gear—a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was there something, somebody, under there? Even though she stood a safe distance away, she found herself wanting to avoid the final inspection.
As the last tree fell, a red hand burst from the dirt - not at the tree, but around Mari’s ankle.
The cold fingers gripped then ripped her to the earth. She hit the ground hard, twisting her knee.
More hands appeared—red and writhing, clawing up from the earth, dragging themselves over the roots. They crawled toward the workers, who shouted and stumbled away, kicking at the disembodied things with panicked curses.
A voice drifted through the chaos, soft but clear:
“This is only the beginning. The gates are opening soon.”
It was the girl from yesterday.
Unable to get up, Mari screamed as a legion of spidering hands fingered toward her. A slick, gelatinous hand slapped against Mari’s cheek, leaving behind a smear that smelled faintly of rusted rot. The wet squelch of dozens of hands slithering over her skin made her stomach churn. Heat roared through her body, as if a furnace ignited beneath her ribs, each breath seared sharp. Sweat oozed from her pores, her heart drummed too fast and faint, a headache mashed her forehead to near mush against her helmet band. A merciless fever pinned her down even after the hands had gone away. From the corner of her vision, before the felled tree, she saw her—the girl in the furisode, standing.
***
It was dark out when Mari woke in the hospital, disoriented and feverish. What the hell was that?
The doctors dismissed her collapse as heat exhaustion. Her boss ordered her to take time off while the hotel project moved forward. The land was being cleared; soon, the foundations would be poured.
She had no strength to have any say.
Perhaps, it’s time to quit after all—walk away, leave the cursed soil and everything behind.
But what good would that do? Some things, once touched, never let go.
Her body ached; sleep was all she could do.
But the fever didn’t leave. It squirmed through her dreams, filling her with flashes of blood-soaked hallways and the sound of a school bell ringing, transforming slumber into umbra visions.
In the worst of these dreams, she saw children staring with bloody, empty eyes—their faces turned toward a lone figure in a classroom, a blonde-haired American woman with an exhausted, defiant gaze. Zena. Was that her name? It sounded familiar.
Mari didn’t know the woman, but she there was a connection—as if something from the construction site had reached beyond the dirt, stretching toward the base’s only high school. The hands, the blood, the fever—they were linked, tangled together in ways she couldn’t yet understand.
She woke with a start, gasping for air, her skin clammy with sweat, a scream stuffed in her throat. Her ankle burned. She pulled back the sheet – there was a deep red bruise spread around the skin in branching lines—roots, the shape of a child’s hand.
Through His Eyes
Subject: Inquiry Regarding Kadena Operations Review
Date: December 17th, 2024 11:13 AM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Command Desk, Kadena Logistics Ops <log-ops.kadena@us.af.mil>
To Whom It May Concern,
Carlton Everett here—former consultant for Pacific fleet logistics (contract completed ‘92) now an occult investigator (yeah funky transition, I know).
I’ve been asked to conduct an informal investigation regarding the unusual reports you flagged at the base. They mentioned equipment failures, personnel anomalies, and… occult activity? Dark stuff I’ll admit, it’s strange enough to catch my attention, which doesn’t happen often anymore.
I’ll be arriving this week. I assume your personnel will cooperate. My contract specifies no documentation beyond emails between relevant parties.
I’ve learned that paper trails are best left short when things are… complicated.
On a personal note—Okinawa feels like an old song I haven’t heard in a long time. Hoping to wrap up cleanly, and I’ll have a chance to catch up with some old friends in the unit.
With luck, it’s just faulty equipment and bad rumors.
Best,
Carlton Everett
Occult Investigator
***
Subject: A Surprise at Kadena
Date: December 21st, 2024 10:08 PM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com>
P,
We need to talk. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were stationed here? They flew me out to look into the "occult disturbances" on base, and I walk into Ops just to see your smug face grinnin at me during a coffee break. No heads-up? Same ol P. How the hell you been?
You told me you were out of the game. Last I heard, you were working finance gigs back stateside. Now I find out you’re here—right in the middle of whatever mess this is. Care to explain? Or you too good to talk to your big bro anymore?
I know things’ve been rocky between us since the wedding, but don’t do it like this man. Hit me up.
Anyway, what’s with the talk about the summoning circle in the ammo dump? I heard one of the junior officers say somethin about it—said they found you there with some other guys last month. Some kind of ritual, apparently.
We need to meet. I got too many questions, and I don’t trust anyone else here.
Carlton
***
Subject: Where Were You?
Date: December 22nd, 2024 1:32 AM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com>
P,
What the hell man? You stood me up tonight. I waited for over an hour at Transit Cafe on the seawall (even though I did have a good burger).
You know I don’t do late-night meet-ups unless it’s important, and there I was, sippin flat beer waitin on your dumbass.
Maybe it’s a game to you, P. Hell, maybe it always has been. But if you dragged me all the way out here just to get tangled in one of your schemes, I swear on Dad’s grave, I’ll beat your ass next time I see you. Not kiddin’ nigga. Don’t mess with me on this.
Anyway as far as work, things are movin. Slow, but movin.
I got a pass from the 18 MUNS to scope out the ammo dump. That place is CREEEPY. You ever been out there at night?
No lights, no traffic, nothin. It’s like somethin sucked the sound out of a speaker. To top it off, the place is goddamn maze. I was lucky to have some young Defender leading me around to where I need to be. Otherwise, I’d a been lost for hours.
I got out around one of those old WWII outposts - a small building meant for one or two men back during the war – and walked around. It’s the place where they say they host the summoning circle.
You won’t believe what I found.
Candle stubs, burn marks, and something scratched in Japanese on the walls – stuff that would make the average person shit themselves with fear. As for the Japanese I couldn’t make out everything, but it mentioned 加牟波理入道 (かんばりにゅうどう) or “Kanbari nyūdō.” (Hope you appreciate the Japanese, it took me at least an hour to find out what the Kanji meant.)
Heard of it? Apparently it’s some pervert yokai (ghost) that shows up outside bathrooms on New Year’s Eve. Sounds ridiculous, right?
But the kid driving me around said everyone on base knows to avoid that building after dark. He looked pale and shaky when he said it.
He said, one poor bastard claims he saw eyes peeking from the sink drain in the bathrooms out here. Now half his unit won’t take a piss out there after midnight.
Saw my own reflection in the car window on the way back—thought for a second it grinned at me. Just my tired eyes playin tricks. At least, that’s what I told myself.
-Carlton
***
Subject: About Kanbari Nyūdō
Date: December 23rd, 2024 4:22 PM
From: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com>
To: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
Carlton, chill. You’re reading too much into this, like always.
Yeah, I’ve heard of Kanbari nyudo.
Bro, it’s just a stupid local myth.
They say it watches people through bathroom windows and curses them with a year of bad luck.
I mean, come on—it’s just some folklore to spook suckas on New Year’s.
We thought we’d have a little fun with it, that’s all. No harm done.
And look, I didn’t stand you up—I got held back in Ops.
Things are messy here, and I’ll explain when we meet. Trust me, it’s not what you think.
This is an opportunity, Carl, one for me to settle my debt and get the hell offa this rock. It’s been too long since I had a good bean and cheese taco.
But let me tell you something bro, bad luck is a myth—something people believe in because they’re too much of punks to take risks.
But me?
I see a chance to turn superstition into profit.
Feel me? I got a an idea that could make both of us a lot of money. You in?
Y’know even if it’s just belief that makes luck real, Carl, then why not control it?
Hell, maybe it’s stupid, maybe I am cursed.
But what’s the alternative? Sit around and do nothin’?
That’s not how we were raised. You know that.
And don’t get all high and mighty with me—I know what you did at your last job.
And if you’re not interested… well, maybe this curse will skip me and find someone else.
Anyway, let’s meet tomorrow. I’m goin’ to the outpost you spoke of at midnight. Meet me there, and I’ll show you how this works.
- P
***
Subject: This Doesn’t Feel Right
Date: December 24th, 2024 12:17 AM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Self
I decided to write these observations in my notes app, since there’s no service out here.
The outpost smells like wax and something else—damp fur. P is pacin circles around the altar, mutterin nonsense under his breath. The guy’s always been an optimist, but this is delusion.
He says we’re summonin Kanbari nyūdō. Wants to “trap” it somehow. Claims if we do it right, we can harness the bad luck—turn it into gold, somehow. Just a trick of belief, he says. Nothing supernatural, just “the power of fear.”
I don’t trust him. Something about this circle feels... alive. There are whispers in the dark, things weaving just beyond the candlelight in the woods. Feels like somethin’s smiling at me (and not in a friendly way).
He’s lightin the last candle now.
If anyone finds this email, know that I was here against my better judgment. If this goes sideways... well, I tried to walk away.
Believe me.
***
Subject: [Draft Not Sent]
Date: December 24th, 2024 12:56 AM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com>
P,
what the hell have you done!?
Aw shit man, I didn’t think it would go like this.
It was supposed to be a little money, but it wasn’t worth it.
Because now you’r fuckin’ gone! And all I have is this damned gold coin.
Aw fuck.
What’s worse? Somethin’s followin’ me.
Whenever I go take a piss or a dump, I feel the eyes on me.
He’s watchin me from the shadows. I can feel his gaze—those stretching eyes, barely blinking, pinned to my skin. There was a cuckoo sound, like a bird caught mid-scream, and then the hardest quiet I ever heard.
Kanbari nyudo is here.
***
Subject: [Unfinished Draft]
Date: December 31st, 2024 11:48 PM
From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com>
To: Self
It’s almost midnight.
Kanbari nyūdō has followed me all week. Day night day night, night day night day – he’s there. I see him in bathroom windows, mirrors, even reflections in my spoon.
What does he do?
Nothin. Just looks and smiles. Sometimes there, sometimes not. Heh it’s like he’s playin jokes on me, just like you used to.
What if he isn’t watching me? What if it’s just me, watching myself through his eyes? The thought crossed my mind, but didn’t change how I feel.
You know, Pops used to talk about ghosts back in Vietnam. Said the trees talked to him sometimes.
Whenever I see those bloated happy eyes I think: Dad is that you?
I know it’s impossible. But that’s what it makes me think of.
Dad used to say ghosts don’t scare you unless you owe them something. Maybe I owe this one. Maybe it’s the same—smiling eyes, always watching, waiting for me to move
It’s almost a new year. 2025 and I’m fighting a Japanese curse. This is fucked, fucked.
I don’t wanna die.
But I gotta go to the bathroom, かんばりぎゅうどう is pointing with his eyes. It’s the best time of year for him. I’ve been holdin it for a while, but there’s no avoiding
I went and it was worse than I thought. He appeared before me in full form.
When he stepped out of the mirror, his robes unfurled like wet rags, stuck in folds to his nasty skin. His eyes bulged, pupils twitched—like a child’s toy winding down—before they latched onto me, glassy and patient.
Those stinking white robes full of filth billowed on the cold breeze from the window. He just watched and smiled the whole time.
And when I was almost done, he… he licked me, smiled and disappeared. It felt like a dog’s tongue without the warmth or excitement.
I can’t go on like this.
Whoever finds this email, know that there’s no shortcuts in life. Gotta deal with your shit before it deals with you.
My neck’s in the belt tied to the ceiling, a tight fit but good enough. I’m cryin’. Guess I should be. This is my fault.
Midnight is minutes away. Maybe it’s the only way out.
Dad would understand. Maybe. Or maybe the ghost of him will keep watchin, just like Kanbari does.
I bet you thought you’d figured it out, P. Thought you could cheat it. But you left me with this curse, and there’s no cheating it now. I’ll finish what you started.
I’ll step off
END
Black Clouds
“I never wanted this place, Dad. Somedays I feel like it chose me. Like somebody died here and their spirit chose a new tenant. That was me. The fuckin’ unlucky one.”
“Why don’t you move?”
“Can’t. Fuckin’ housing company won’t let me til’ I’ve been here for a year. Damn this place sucks. Can’t wait to get back to San Diego and see you.”
“I’ll keep it warm for you.”
“Very funny, Dad.”
“Son… don’t make a monster out of that place. Give it a chance.”
“I won’t. I’ll try.”
“Do you need money?”
“No Dad, I told you, military money is good enough.”
“Okay, okay.”
“…I gotta go. 0400 start tomorrow…”
“Okay… have a good sleep.”
“Bye.”
Yun set his phone down on the worn-out couch in his apartment. Only the glow of his phone screen flickered against the cracked walls.
He scanned the dark apartment. Dripping sink, rattling air conditioner, ants marching in the entryway, whir of endless traffic on nearby highway 58 – this place was a certified dump. The only one
available when he arrived during the busy summer move season.
Lucky me.
Yun went to the refrigerator, then returned to the dented couch with a bottle of Sapporo. Absentmindedly, he sipped and scrolled. Post after post blended into one endless smear of other people’s lives. Reality moved in rips at night, especially when he zoomscrolled. Upon snapping out of the phone glaze, he estimated two or three rips burned by, but that was just a guess.
Somewhere outside, the first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. A black storm smothered the coastline, blotting out the stars. It had been like this for hours—clouds gathering, dark as wasted jet fuel, swirling in strange, unnatural patterns.
Yun looked out the window – if you could call it that. The square that used to have a view followed the eighty-twenty rule – twenty percent black sky, eight percent gray Japanese construction sleeve over the neighboring structure. A view obstructing irritation.
This place is trash. Yun took another pair of swigs from the bottle as he flicked his thumb to open the Duolingo Japanese app. His Dad convinced him to learn the language, thinking that would make him hate Japan less. But he found the app useless for actual conversations.
We have two enemies. What good was that sentence? What a waste.
The smell of cigarette smoke wandered in from the street, again. Yun turned up his nose. The stench joined the smell of disinfectant and the perpetual trace of ash in the apartment. There was always something with this place; he was never alone, never at peace. That was Okinawa for you.
Through the loose door (that was a pain to lock and close all the way) Yun heard faint footsteps slapping across the concrete outside. Someone returning to their unit late, probably drunk, or staggering back after curfew. Can’t they walk quieter. Yun kept scrolling, but the page didn’t load.
He swiped it closed, to inspect his service: NO SIGNAL.
“What now?” he muttered. He threw the phone down. Thanks to all the buildings around, the Wi-Fi here was terrible, and tonight, it was worse than usual.
He rubbed an exhausted eye while draining his beer. Shift work sapped him like nothing else—twelve hours on the flightline fixing jets, followed by nights like these, trapped in the silence of his rundown apartment with nothing but old ghosts and noisy neighbors. I’d rather drink gas than extend here.
Thunder cracked again, closer this time. The wind shook the window in his bedroom. Something moved outside—too fast, too large to be the wind. Yun walked to the room then stared at the glass. His skin prickled as if someone were watching him from the other side.
A shadow shifted in the storm clouds. Then he saw it. A shape coiled within the dark—twisting, writhing, monstrous.
For one awful second, yellow eyes gleamed from the storm, then vanished as the power flickered, plunging the apartment into darkness.
***
The room filled with silence, heavy and dense. Yun grabbed his phone, then activated the flashlight to illuminate the area. Storm must’ve knocked out the power. Great. The shadows stretched deep into the corners, where no light reached. Somewhere—just at the edge of his hearing—a sound drifted in: the high-pitched call of a bird, shrill and piercing. It was followed by the scrape of claws dragging slowly across wood. He returned to the living room.
“The fuck?”
His mouth went dry. His eyes locked onto the hallway leading to the kitchen. A figure slinked into the moonlight leaking through the space in the window—a grotesque hybrid of fur, scales, and muscle.
Yun stared, heart beating hard enough to blow up in his chest. The creature stood there: face of an angry monkey, tiger limbs crouched—ready to pounce, serpent’s tail waving behind curling and uncurling with slow menace. A low, rasping sound reverberated from its lips, like a clucking sigh, steady then not - sound of a wild animal signaling an unknown message to another. The air ripened to a choking burnt smell, as if Yun were in a gas chamber, except there was no mask to don. He had trouble breathing.
Then out of trained instinct, his heartbeat slowed—not from fear, but from the flood of adrenaline rushing through his veins. Fight or flight kicked in. There’d be no running tonight.
Yun backed away, eyes never leaving the beast as he knelt with care and wrapped his fingers around the empty Sapporo. In less than a second, he bashed and broke it on the tile floor, then thrust the broken bottle toward his target.
The creature slithered sideways, dodging him with a disturbing, fluid grace. To Yun’s surprise, no counterattack came. It just watched him, yellow eyes glowing with something like amusement.
He charged again, but hit air.
Another blink. It vanished. Dissolved into the darkness like smoke.
Yun stood in the silence, chest heaving, every muscle tensed. The only sound was the distant hum of rain pattering against the windows. Was it real? Is this a dream?
His phone buzzed on the couch. He hurried to swipe it up—5G (full bars).
***
Still holding the bottle with a shaking hand, Yun pulled up his phone. One-handed, he typed: “monkey face, animal body, tiger limbs, snake tail, Japan monster.” In one shot, he found it:
Nue—an ancient yokai.
In Japanese mythology, the Nue is a supernatural monster with the face of a monkey, the torso of a tanuki (Japanese raccoon dog), the limbs of a tiger and the tail of a snake.
“No fucking way.”
He clicked a few links. After thirty minutes of reading and another Sapporo, he understood what it was, but still couldn’t bring himself to do much about it.
According to legend, Nue brought nightmares and sickness, slithering into the minds of emperors and driving them to ruin.
There was a story—a samurai named Minamoto no Yorimasa shot the monster from the sky centuries ago after it haunted the Emperor of Kyoto. The Nue’s body was torched, buried, and banished to prevent it from ever returning.
Yun’s blood ran cold.
How the fuck in it here? In Okinawa? Alive?
He finished the second beer. A third one followed to further dull the edge.
Yun rubbed his face. Yeah, I’m dead tired, maybe a little buzzed. Fuck it, I’ll just take leave tomorrow. Say I ate a bad waribiki sushi from Max Value. Flint won’t care.
He sat on his deflated couch sipping his drink.
Maybe it wasn’t the same Nue. Maybe I imagined the whole thing—just another nightmare, conjured by weeks of overwork and no sleep.
The apartment still smelled faintly of rot, like something had slithered through and left its presence behind. But it always smelled like straight up old—that wasn’t new--
Something scraped against the door.
Yun jumped to his feet. He crept to the trash can and pulled out the broken bottle from before.
He yanked the door open—and stumbled backward.
A body collapsed into his apartment with a hard smack.
For a moment, Yun could only stare. With deliberate movement, he knelt to examine the corpse. The man’s throat had been torn open, skin flapping like ripped paper, yet his face was almost peaceful. Yun knew that face—he’d seen it half a dozen times since moving in, always nodding in polite disinterest. But now those same eyes were glassy and fixed, lips parted, no breath. Blood seeped across the tile, pooling at Yun’s feet in the entryway like a spilled drink. Yun stared in disbelief. Did I…?
His gaze dropped to his hands. The bottle was smeared with blood.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, FUCK!
His breath came in short bursts, panic gripped him tight.
It wasn’t me. I couldn’t. Did I?
The memory was a blur, flashes of rage and confusion, the image of the Nue still burning in his mind. Everything was too jumbled for him to concentrate.
I heard the steps outside, thunder, into the bedroom, the Nue, then it was… he glanced at the dead Japanese man lying face down in blood. FUUCK
He looked outside, then back inside. Better act fast. He dragged the body inside. Through the living room, into the bedroom, to the window. Heart hammering in his chest, hoping to stage it as a robbery or accident, he peered below. Third floor drop, guy came in, we got into it, he cuts me, I cut him, he jumps, dies on impact, yeah yeah—FUCK! Every sound—every drip of blood, every shuffle of shoes—banged in his ears as he heaved the surprisingly heavy dead man up then shoved it out the window. Two seconds and he heard the most unnatural crumpling thud. It sounded like a rain soaked bag of MOPP gear being thrown from a moving truck—hard, soggy, and clattering. Yun smashed his eyes shut and closed the window. He wiped his hands on his jeans, smearing red across the fabric.
On the floor by the entryway his phone buzzed again.
Google Photo update notification.
What the?
Yun opened the album—and nearly dropped the phone.
Photos of him standing over the neighbor’s body, bloody bottle in hand, his face contorted with hate. The timestamps were from moments ago. There was no one else in the apartment. No one else could have taken the pictures.
This can’t be happening.
He stepped in the still warm blood to look outside--only black clouds floating above.
A soft hiss behind made him spin.
***
Yun turned slowly.
The Nue crouched on the ceiling, watching him. Its yellow eyes gleamed with triumph, its grin wide and knowing. The air seemed to compress Yun’s lungs with dread. He wanted to vomit.
His phone buzzed again—a message from Dad:
“Saw you were active online. Hope you’re not killing time on your phone, again. That thing is a real monster sometimes.”
The Nue’s grin widened, as if savoring Yun’s indecision. The black storm spiraled outside, pressing against the windows like a living thing. Yun’s phone flickered. He dared to glance at the screen: 5G (one bar).
Alone in the dark, terrified, Yun dropped the bottle and dialed his Dad.
On the roof, the tiger claws of the Nue scraped closer. Yun’s breaths came in shallow puffs while he listened to the dial tone. He squeezed his eyes shut. A high-pitched bird cry cawed around him.
“Hello?”
“Dad! Dad! I really need your help now!”
A pause.
Static.
“I’ll keep it warm for you.”
“Dad!?”
***
Outside black clouds consume the building.
A swirling portal to nowhere spins overhead.
More titles by Keith Hayden
Cereus & Limnic Series
Cereus & Limnic: Escape From Okinawa (COMING 2025)
Cereus & Limnic: Second Evolution (2024)
Sync Whole - A Cereus & Limnic Novella (2024)
Cereus & Limnic (2021)
More Fiction
Maldives Madness: An English-Japanese Sports Drama Reader (2023)
Shadowbanned: A Psychological Sci-Fi Novel (2023)
Island of Souls: A Fantasy Sci-Fi Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Story (2023)
Non-Fiction
Hayden: Brave (A Military Memory Book) (2024)
The Anti-Social Approach: A Blerd’s Guide to Building a Timeless Tribe in 2024 (2024)
The Ultimate Guide to Writing a Living Biography (2022)
The Tower of Babbling: Language Learning For Independent Learners of Any Foreign Language (2019)
Japanese Titles (日本語)
セレウス&リムニク: Part 1 (上) (2024)
セレウス&リムニク: Part 2 (下) (2024)
About the Author
About the Author
Born in San Antonio, Texas, Keith Hayden is a digital novelist who writes in multiple genres.
He is also a prolific creator and entrepreneur. Through his business Hayden Academy Collective (HAC) Studios, he tells original stories through various forms of media. His goal is to help others share their stories with the world through education, technology, and story.
Keith lives in Las Vegas, NV with his wife Joanna.
Visit keithhayden.net to see more of his work and services.
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