Wearing the Cape 5: Ronin Games (28 page)

“Do you know where we are?” she asked gently. I shook my head—I didn’t even know
that
. I didn’t recognize the tiny thatch-roofed homes at all. Was one of them mine? Then I saw the mountains.
Those
I knew.

“Yes! Yes! I know—
Tenkawa!” I laughed.

“Very good. And now, who am I?”

That was an odd thing to ask, but no odder than my not knowing who
I
was. “You’re…Yoshi’s new wife. You came last year.”

“That’s right. And I know who you are, too. You’re Hope. And a very cute little Hope right now.”

“Have you ever walked through a door and found yourself in yesterday? No? Have you ever
[remainder of sentence redacted]
? No? Then you’ve managed to live your life somewhere normal. Count. Your. Blessings. If I ever see those creepy
[redacted]
again, I’m making sushi.”

Jacky Bouchard, aka Artemis
(An excerpt from heavily redacted files available in the Sentinels Historical Library.)

I was
six
. Or somewhere around that tiny age. My feet were bare, my rough little yukata dusty from the dry earth, and I hadn’t drawn Kitsune into my dream of a Chicago summer.

We sat on the grass, listening to the buzzing cicadas.

Kitsune laughed softly, like someone who had been thinking about a joke for a long time and who finally had someone to share it with. “Did you know that the story doesn’t even give me a name? I’m just the fox-wife.”

“Really?” Like I cared; I was
six
! I tried not to be too dismayed. Actually I tried not to have a screaming fit—six-year old emotions were
intense
.

“Really. You’d think they’d remember that, at least.”

“Is this history?”

“Hardly.” She ran fingers through my tangled hair, stopped. “In a way, I suppose. It’s my story, and I can’t say which one it is since it started with me already Yoshi’s wife and with two beautiful little boys.”

I blinked. “But, how can you not know?”

“Well, historians generally agree that the Kitsune of Tenkawa was a real woman. A lot of samurai and noble families lost everything in the wars of the period, so it is completely possible that she was the daughter of an impoverished family, married to a poor country samurai and brought home with him. She wouldn’t have fit in with the uneducated townsfolk, her in-laws probably resented her, and she might not have liked them much, either.”

“And that’s you?”

“In this story. I just don’t know how it ends. I disappear, remember.” She did. In the legend, when Yoshi discovered his strange wife was a fox she vanished, never to be seen again.

“I’m still not sure if my mother-in-law is going to kill me and bury me in the woods now that I’ve given her two healthy grandsons, or if my father is going to recover his fortune and summon me back to Edo to marry somebody else with more connections.” I gasped in horror and she stroked my hair again.
“I think I’ll likely be murdered—Yoshi’s mother is nasty enough.”

“Why are you here? Is the godfish trying to teach you a lesson?” I couldn’t imagine being forced to wait around to see if you were murdered. What was the point?

“A lesson? Just where do you think we are?”

“Well—the underworld—” I stammered out an approximation of Kochi’s guess about mythic underworlds and judges. Kitsune was laughing delightedly by the time I finished.

“I’m not going to let Kochi forget this!” She shook with mirth. “She’s very, very good, and right most of the time.”

“Then where
are
we?” I challenged crossly, and hiccupped in shock when I realized that I was almost hysterically upset because an adult was laughing at me.

“We’re on a stage! Your ‘godfish’ isn’t a judge—he’s the spirit of Kabukicho. His gates can open in any entertainment district in Japan, but he’s the embodiment of the Kabuki theater and all its drama and melodrama.”

My mouth made a big ‘O’. “It’s keeping sleepers as players?”

“All the world’s a stage,’” Kitsune recited in accentless English, “and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.” She sighed. “That’s also why I expect murder—much more dramatic.”

“It’s doing this to everybody? All of them? That’s—that’s—”

“Terrible? A kabuki needs drama—I suspect that Kabukicho has placed each sleeper into a period of drama in their lives. Hopefully good drama, or at least drama from which they emerged triumphant, but I doubt that most are that lucky. But you, dear Hope, why are you here?”

“Agent Inoue sent us here for you!”

“Oh?” A brow rose. “That’s very resourceful of him, but all the way from America?”

“No—” I kept having to remind myself that I wanted to go home and home wasn’t below us in the village. It was insidious—all my thoughts and emotions felt
different
, and just hearing Kitsune speak English was jarring. Her voice had been getting kinder and kinder, and now I wanted to cry and curl up beside her so she could stroke my hair until I felt better.

“I mean, just this time. We came to find you because of the tree.”

“Do tell.” Taking my suddenly quivering chin, she looked into my face. “But quickly. I’m a kami myself, with more control than Kabukicho’s other guests possess. Any longer, and I think you’re going to forget you’re a player on this little stage.”

“Shit!” Jacky jerked away when I jackknifed into a vertical curl by Kitsune’s side.

I was too big. The world in my
head
was too big. My shoulder throbbed unbearably for the moment it took for my brain to remember how it felt to live with low-level pain.

“How long—how long have I been asleep?” My voice was too deep.

“Just a few minutes. What happened in there?” Kitsune still floated beside us, as much a sleeping beauty as ever.

“We’re leaving
right now
.”

“Right.” Just to be safe, we rose to the surface first. When I gave her a boost out and we stood on the unbroken ice, I kept my hand on her shoulder.

“Ready?” She nodded and I closed my eyes.
There’s no place like freaking home
. And we were there—as close to home as I could get, anyway. Spotlights lit the night again, making every puff of dust visible as Kaminari and Kochi slid-ran down into the crater to meet us.

I squinted to see beyond the lights. We’d been in there for hours. “I need to talk to Agent Inoue,” I said as soon as the two Defensenet capes got to us. “Is he still on-site?”

“
He’s here,
” Shell let me know. “
Hasn’t left all day
.” I gave everyone an “excuse me” bow and lifted up, landed on the rim.

“Hikari-san,” he greeted me when I landed. He stood in a circle of used cigarette butts and crushed coffee cups, but he said my name like he’d been waiting a couple of minutes to meet me on the street for a lunch date.

“We could not retrieve Kitsune, Inoue-san. But he did give me a message for you. Three names and an address.”

“Thank you. Repeat them, please.” When I did, he nodded. “You’ve kept your part of our agreement—sufficiently, at least, for none but lawyers to object to. I’m not a lawyer, nor are my superiors. Since you can reach Kitsune, may I ask you to stay with us for a few more days while we do what we can with what you’ve given us? I would also appreciate the opportunity to hear anything else you might be able to relate. However—” Now he bowed. “You have our gratitude. If you wish to leave Japan immediately, we will arrange your departure to any destination you wish and see you on your way. Your own business here is also done?”

“
Ooh
…” Shell whispered. “
That’s the nicest ‘Thanks for all your help, now don’t let the door hit your butt on your way out’ I’ve ever heard
.” I covered my mouth; I was wiped out and punchy, but Agent Inoue didn’t deserve hysterical laughter.

I bowed back—just a few intense days and it was becoming second nature. “Thank you, Inoue-san. I would feel better for the opportunity to give a fuller debrief.” He nodded acceptance; I couldn’t tell if he was happy with me or not, and I really didn’t much care—I wanted to sleep for a week. A natural sleep, without worrying about where I was going to wake up. And tonight I was going to get it.

A light rain had begun to fall when we left the mech units standing watch over the gate. Kaminari and Kochi disappeared. Jacky went off to collect kitty-Shell and all our stuff and meet us there while Ozma and I flew back to Defensenet Shinjuku with Agent Inoue; while all was forgiven, as long as we remained in Japan we were going to stay where they could see us. Looking down at the bright-lit crater that had been Golden Gai, I couldn’t say they were being unreasonable.

Agent Inoue talked on his own earbug as we lifted off, and it sounded like a certain address was about to become a very exciting location. Then he turned his attention to me.

“Is there anything else that our asset was able to tell you?”

I nodded painfully. The ache in my shoulder had shot a spike up my neck into my head, and I was going to go see Dr. Arai as soon as we landed. “He told me that he’d gotten stuck by the yakuza boss’s coercive power and was unable to leave or contact you once he found out that they were using the extrareality pocket to smuggle people and equipment. When their onmiyoji spotted O—Kimiko’s magic in Shinjuku, our fox advised that she be taken.” I laughed, winced.

“He set the whole thing up. He didn’t share who we were, but he knew we’d come after her and that’s what he told his boss—gave him the idea of “recruiting” us by sucking us into a fight in the pocket and turning us there. He knew you guys would be watching Kabukicho, and win or lose we’d lead you right to them. He didn’t expect—” I waved a hand vaguely.

The agent nodded. “That is his style of play. And he remains trapped?”

“Not—not exactly. He has more freedom than the other sleepers there, and said that he expects to be able to slip away sooner or later.”
After murder ends the play
. The thought made me cringe.

“That is good.” A nice understatement. I looked out the windows.

On my first ride to Defensenet Shinjuku I hadn’t exactly been able to appreciate the sights; this time I not only had a window to look out of, I had a great angle. Defensenet Shinjuku, also the Defensenet One Building, sat in the middle of Shinjuku’s tall-towered business district. Not as tall as the buildings around it, it still managed to look intimidating; instead of the steel and glass style of its neighbors, it looked carved from white stone. The windows in its upper floors, long, narrow, and widely spaced, didn’t compromise its solid strength one bit. Neither did the carved stone murals that ringed its first three or four floors.

Even so, to me keeping Defensenet’s national nerve-center in the same location as its two premier teams felt like tempting fate. Too many eggs in one basket. On the other hand I was willing to bet that, as strong as it looked, it was really
much
stronger. And there was something to be said for not spreading out the targets you absolutely had to defend.

The heavy garage gates closed behind us, and now that I didn’t have other things on my mind I could appreciate the layered security we passed through—perfectly sensible considering they kept holding cells in the same building.

Climbing out of our ride first, Agent Inoue signaled to a couple of base guards. “I will have someone take you back to the infirmary, Hikari-san, and show your companions to your rooms. You will find them very comfortable, and you will be able to come and go as you please except for specific areas.”

I raise my hand, feeling like a school-kid on a field trip. “Um… Inoue-san?”

“Yes?”

“I would prefer the room I occupied last night.”

He actually blinked. “Excuse me?”

“With the security seals active? If it’s not too much trouble.”

“May I ask why?”

Ozma smothered a laugh as my face heated up.
Please sir, can I spend the night in your maximum-security cell? That would be really, really nice
.

“It prevents a tree from kidnapping me when I sleep?” Although I felt much better about it after talking to Kitsune, I wasn’t ready to go just yet. Of course I wouldn’t be in the cell the next time somebody knocked me out, but I didn’t see any fights looming for a while. Not with my shoulder the way it felt; in the old days of field-hockey injuries, if it had ached like this I would have been immobilizing it and packing it in ice.