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A light at the far end of the room brightened, illuminating two chairs at the end of the table. Hunched in one of them was a man who bore little resemblance to the one I'd seen in the hologram. For one thing, his hair was longer. Thick hanks covered his ears and fell over his eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of tinted glasses with wide rectangular lenses. A white surgical mask obscured the rest of his face, and a pair of leather gloves covered his stubby hands, one of which clutched an oxygen mask. Blue tubing ran from it to the miniature humidifier on the table.
"Dr. Mazawa, it's an honor to meet you." I bowed.
"Likewise, Cleanser Darkfell. Please..." Nodding, he indicated the chair near his, then said, "Purified oxygen. The purest there is, actually. Even in here, I find the air can become so stale and dry. It's quite invigorating. Perhaps you would like to try some?"
"Thanks, but I'll stick with the regular kind." I hurried to my seat.
"Some water, then. You must be thirsty after such a long journey." He nodded to the pinch-faced guard.
She returned with a tall glass, then retreated, the low click of the screen as it slid back into place the only evidence of her former presence. Had I not seen her use the fusuma, I wouldn't have known an opening existed in that part of the room at all. Indigo-colored cloth panels covered the walls and ceiling, lending the room a cave-like aspect, an effect made all the more disorienting by its utter lack of windows. My journey to Mazawa's private conference chamber had taken so many twists and turns through the house, I no longer had a sense of where I was.
We sat in silence at first, the only sound between us the soft gurgle from the portable oxygen contraption. Finally, Mazawa lowered his oxygen mask. "As I understand, your journey here was not without incident."
Emphasis on incident. "One less Kufugaki in the world. Nothing I couldn't handle," I said, not knowing which version of the story he'd heard, but hoping this was the last time I'd have to hear about that damned severed head.
"One less? Your extermination efforts in Seikan prefecture during its recent nokuru resurgence have not gone unnoticed, I assure you."
"Thank you, Doctor Mazawa. I do my best." I took a sip. The cool water, lacking the sulfurous odor and metallic tang of filtered cave water, slipped down my throat like a soothing balm.
"Yes..." Mazawa cocked his head, letting the ends of his hair graze his uniform collar. Wordless, he held position, silent as a statue, except for the measured tap-tap of his gloved fingers against the plastic mask. "I have wanted to make your acquaintance for some time, Ms. Darkfell. You possess exceptional abilities, from what I've heard, although a Cleanser's lot in life is not an enviable one. Bounties force you to leave home and clan for days, maybe even weeks at a time. I also imagine, if a contract takes longer than anticipated, you must forage for whatever sustenance you can find, always pitting your wits against the elements. A harsh life, a dangerous life, the potential for harm always hanging over your head like a naginata dandled from a fragile thread, yet here you sit before me in perfect health: not a scar, not a scratch."
"I'm just luckier than most, I guess."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, from what I've heard," he rasped. "Tell me, were you born in Seikan?"
Your guess is as good as mine. "I was raised by relatives there."
"Relatives?"
Only Satoshi, but he didn't need to know that. "My parents died when I was an infant."
He clasped his gloved hands over his white uniform. "I hail from the opposite end of our nation: Tottori. You remind me of someone I once knew there, a dear friend. Her name was Reiko. You look so much like her, it's uncanny. You could be her ghost." The laughter that followed this ended in a wheeze.
"If you believe in ghosts," I said, trying very hard to not squirm in my seat. Mazawa hadn't summoned me here to reminisce. Never one for small talk, I wished he'd just cut to the chase.
"I'm afraid you will need to believe in them, Renata. You're going to be hunting one."
The glasses and mask he wore made it impossible to read his expression. Nor could I glean any clues from his voice which, when not muffled by the stupid oxygen mask, had a thready quality that made him sound like a tree frog.
"Excuse me, Doctor Mazawa. I don't think I heard you correctly."
"Oh, you did. I only call him a ghost because the memory of him and what he did still haunts me. Let me explain. At Tottori—mind you, this was some time ago—a senior colleague and I were developing an armament in secret. Unfortunately, a firestorm destroyed the base before we could complete it. Barely escaping with my own life, I thought he, along with all our work, had perished in the blaze. Recently, however, I learned that he's alive and has been hiding all this time. Time, I believe, he has used to perfect the Idoron."
Before I could ask, he leaned across the table. "A weapon so powerful, it could destroy the holodomes and all life as we know it. I cannot allow this! You must kill him and bring the Idoron to me."
The intended victim didn't sound like my usual target, but if I was going to successfully assassinate my first non-Kufugaki, I needed more information. "What's his name?"
"His name?" Mazawa waved dismissively. "He has many names, Renata, each as misleading as the next."
No name. Great. I tried again. "What does the Idoron look like?"
"Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but incredibly important." He tapped an impatient finger against the table. "Find his laboratory and you will find the Idoron."
The lights dimmed and a ghostly image of a lake materialized between us. Beyond it, heavy forests rose to the snow-capped peak of a distant Mt. Fuji.
"My latest intelligence indicates his stronghold is somewhere in this region. There's Lake Motosu, and see, over there—" He stabbed at the hologram with his finger. "Well, I assume you've heard of this forest? Perfect place for a ghost, yes?"
He was talking about Aokigahara. My damp hair suddenly grew heavier, like a cold hand had clamped on the back of my neck. "That's a great deal of ground to cover alone and on foot, Doctor Mazawa. Why can't you send your militia?"
"Because they're too obvious and the terrain is too dense for them to navigate. He'd slaughter them, the minute they stepped foot in the forest. No, no, I need someone who uses more instinctual tactics, someone who can adapt quickly to the region's idiosyncrasies, and most of all, someone he would never suspect. I need you, Renata."
Idiosyncrasies? If there was even a shred of truth in the stories told by one of our Shinu allies, a host of inhospitable things awaited me in that forest. Not that I believed in women in white or demons. Those were just legends, campfire stories to scare gullible children. I only believed in things I could see and touch. Things I could kill. Having been handpicked for this mission, I'd been looking forward to a challenge, but now, saw only a wild goose chase.
Perhaps sensing my reluctance, Doctor Mazawa slid towards me with his arms crossed, an effect that made him appear even more like a giant toad. "I am prepared to provide food, clothing, gear: everything a true ronin would need."
Not for the first time that day, I cursed my older brother for not altering that particular bit of information. "Aokigahara? You're absolutely certain, Doctor?"
"My source is above reproach, I assure you, Renata."
Hardly reassuring, since neither hunting nor farming was possible within Aokigahara's vast expanse. While common sense told me that the forest was completely unfit for human habitation, Mazawa, much like my Shinu friend, seemed absolutely convinced that someone did live within that dense sea of trees. I'd been only ten the first time that I'd heard his story, but even then, knew a freaking fairytale when I heard one! Unless Mazawa was batshit insane (and I wasn't ready to discount that possibility), surely, he didn't believe, couldn't possibly believe—
I shifted on the stone-hard seat. "The only story I've ever heard of a person living in the Jukai is..."
"Yes, yes?" He inched closer.
"Forgive me, Doctor Mazawa. I don't mean to laugh, truly, I don't, but it sounds like you want me to kill the Madman of Motosu."
"I do! I do!" He smacked the holo-table excitedly, making the image sputter. "Madman, Shadowman, yokai—over the years, he's used many names. His real name is Yomichi. Kill him, Renata, then bring his Idoron to me. I will not rest until I have it!"
I began to wonder if he was huffing something other than oxygen from that cannister.
"For your service, I am prepared to give you the ultimate reward: complete immunity from the Maturation Mandate! The privilege to live out the entire span of your natural life—"
A privilege, not yours to give. My ears starting to ring again, a sure sign I was about to lose my temper.
"—as a high-ranking official in my regime. Perhaps a Reconnaissance Specialist or Commander of Special Ops. Although I no longer employ Cleansers among my ranks, my militia could benefit greatly from your experience."
No Cleansers? My stomach flip-flopped. If I wanted to keep having life experiences, I needed to leave. "Doctor Mazawa, although I'm truly honored, I really cannot accept such a—"
He cut me short with a wave of his hand. "It's nothing! You'll find I can be quite generous when the mood strikes, and I'm always happy to bestow a reward for a job well done. We can discuss the specifics of your new position when you return. Just think what this could mean for you, Renata!"
I didn't have to think about it at all. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I cannot accept this contract and do not wish to waste any more of your valuable time. Thank you, but my answer is no."
"No?" he echoed, as if he'd never heard the word before. The mask slipped from his hand.
I quit my seat and bowed to him. "Forgive me, Doctor, but as I said before, I believe your source has gravely mislead you. So much so, in fact, you would send me into Aokigahara to steal a weapon from a man who doesn't exist."
"Doesn't...exist?" he spluttered.
"He doesn't, Doctor Mazawa; he's never existed. The Madman of Motosu—Yomichi or whatever you want to call him—he's nothing but a myth."
"All legend begins in truth." I didn't give a rat's furry crack where legend began. As far as I was concerned, the only madman was the one who'd summoned me here. He took another hit from his mask. "It has to be you, Renata. I cannot entrust this mission to—"
My skin prickled, the ringing in my ears rose to a scream, and the words flew out before I could stop them. "This isn't a mission, it's a fool's errand, one I would not undertake if the reward were eternal life!"
"Everything has a price, you insolent piece of clan trash!" With surprising speed, he lunged at me. His hair, which I now saw was only a wig, slipped off, along with his surgical mask, revealing an aureole of grizzled hair over the too-shiny skin on one side of his head. A ragged scar stretched from the corner of his mouth to his misshapen ear. I barely had time to register burn scars before his fingers tightened like a vise around my wrist.
"I've noticed your age becomes remarkably younger with each visit to New Edo. You were nineteen on your last visit, but only seventeen this morning. Seventeen! A bit of a stretch, considering your real age is twenty-four! That idiot, Akiro, might have blind-eyed such things, but I don't. You know the penalty for being twenty-four, single and childless in my regime!"
I wriggled easily out of his grasp. "You should've led with that argument, Doctor, it would've saved us both a lot of time."
"You will obey me!" He steadied himself with one hand on the table, while the other hand grappled inside his uniform.
"Or what—you'll slap a bounty on my head? Murder me like you did Doctor Akiro? Fuck you!" I kicked the chair at him. I'd taken only a few strides towards the door when I heard a low click that made the skin between my shoulder blades clench.
"I know that wasn't Satoshi's head," he said, his voice low and brimming with menace. "Chip tampering is a terminal offense, Renata."
Not for the first time, I wished I'd ditched the stupid rucksack before I'd ever glimpsed New Edo's gates. I'd only followed through because Satoshi's schemes had never failed in the past.
"Turn around, Renata. There's something you need to see."
Expecting to find another of Mazawa's teenaged minions, I found myself staring down the barrel of a pistol that had to be at least twice my age. A gun, seriously? No one used those kinds of guns anymore! No one even made bullets anymore, which made the damned thing backfiring and taking his head off my best-case scenario. Fingers crossed...
"Look here."
A shaky image of Satoshi, still in disguise as the world's ugliest woman, replaced the forest. Fear trickled down my back when I saw the entrance to our bunker.
"How would you like to watch Satoshi die? I could kill him with the press of a button. One touch: that's all it would take. If I'm not mistaken, he just turned thirty-six. He's past his prime, really, I'd be doing him a favor..." The gun wavered, as Mazawa's hand dipped to the control panel on the table.
"No! Please, don't!"
"Not so smug now, are you? Take the mission or I will kill him, along with everyone else in that band of degenerates you call the Hakodate Clan. What do you say now, Cleanser Darkfell?"
"Fine. You win."
"Answer respectfully." The gun bobbled again.
Respectfully put that damned thing away before you kill us both. "I will do as you wish, Doctor Mazawa."
"Excellent," he wheezed. "To ensure you don't try to escape, every step of your journey will be monitored. Bring me the Idoron, Renata. You have one week."