*
The world looked different when passing through in a car. When stopping at traffic lights the three could get a better look of how society functioned so late in the day as being inside the car in the middle of the road they really began to feel like they were in the center of it all.
Miyako and Hido sat quietly in the back seat, staring out of their respective windows while Kouji was in the the passenger seat, head leaning on his fist, taking a nap. The driver was a stern looking man with his face constantly screwed up into a scowl, eyes forever narrowed. His hair was cut so far down to his head that he may as well have been bald and on one side of his head and running down his neck was a tattoo of a red and gold Chinese dragon while on the other side was a tattoo that read “family” in Chinese characters.
The car went off the main road onto a less populated and narrower one, the buildings now so close together that the sky appeared darker. Another turn brought them into an alley that may as have been a tunnel for it was so dark and without light that it felt like they had been going in the same direction for a long time. The driver then made a right, driving down for a few more minutes before stopping abruptly, throwing Hido and Miyako forward. The man tapped Kouji’s legs harder than he needed to to wake him but Kouji didn’t complain.
Kouji was the first to step out, Miyako and Hido following his lead, Hido stepping into a shallow puddle. He looked up to see the rain pouring down, the grey sky steadily growing darker, foreshadowing a heavier downpour.
As soon as Kouji closed the door the man drove off, leaving the three to stare at a large, corrugated steal door at the top of a small set of concrete steps, the loading bay to an unknown establishment. Without hesitating, Kouji advanced up the stairs, bashing the door with his fist, filling the ally with distorted music.
‘Kouji, where are we? Who was that guy?’ Miyako asked.
‘I have no idea who he was.’
‘But where are we? Why are we here?’ Hido questioned, suspicious.
‘We’re here to see the Yakuza.’
‘The Yakuza!’ Miyako and Hido exclaimed at the same time. ‘C’mon, we all know that they’re just a myth – an urban legend.’ Hido raised an eyebrow.
‘They are real.’
‘But all the information about them wrote about their end during the nineties.’ Hido argued.
‘Now that I think about it,’ Kouji placed a thoughtful finger to his lips. ‘Maybe there is a link between the date the organisation allegedly fell and Akira’s uprising.’
‘What good would pretending that the Yakuza don’t exist do?’
Miyako folded her arms. ‘Besides deterring people from joining an organisation that can oppose you know who?’
‘I’m sure we can say his name Miyako.’
The steel doors opened slowly, every second building up tension and anxiety in both Hido and Miyako. Hido lowered his arms but Miyako slowly took his hand. The door revealed to them a car repair warehouse; cars elevated so that work could be done to their undercarriage, tires lining racks, tables awash with spare parts and large machines that could have done anything. Lights hung far from the ceiling by cables but looked secure and were bright, giving the warehouse a welcoming feel.
‘I don’t want to say his name in case something bad happens to me. Or maybe the people I care about like Chisa.’
Hido squeezed her hand gently, his heart beating quickly at the revelation that he was even holding it.
There were a few people about, some simply sat, enjoying a cigarette, keeping themselves to themselves while others were working on the cars. As they passed through Miyako couldn’t help but notice the elaborate tattoos some where sporting on their bodies for those who had decided not to wear a shirt despite the coldness of warehouse. One man rolled out from under a blue seven-seater car, blowtorch in-hand, sitting up to wipe away sweat with his dirty leather gloves. He removed a pair of goggles, placing them on his forehead and stared at Miyako as she passed.
On his body was a skeleton in samurai armour sat with his arm raised so that the length of his sword could be seen; bloody and chipped to show that he had been through many hard battles and somehow even in his dead state he still existed to fight another day. She met his eyes and could feel his heart talk to her; telling her that like the samurai he would fight beyond his limit to protect what he believed in.
Kouji had already moved up a small large set of exposed, metal steps, finding himself at the closed door of an office door that protruded but connected by a wide walkway running along the wall met by another set of steps. With the back of his first two fingers he knocked lightly on the door where the grey paint was slowly chipping away and the revealed metal was brown with age.
‘Come in!’ A woman commanded bluntly.
Kouji sighed then opened the door, greeted by a fog of cigarette smoke that loomed heavily like a storm-cloud over the head of a tense and frustrated woman. Leaning on her fists, she stood over her dented, metal desk, staring at a piece of paper taking up more space than the desk provided through rectangular glasses. Her hair was messily tied up behind her by a maroon ribbon though a swirl of hair fell in front of her face which she didn’t seem to mind. Wrapped around her body figure was an emerald kimono decorated with a pattern of brown branches holding lanterns with Fireflys dotted around the green spaces.
Angrily she ground the cigarette into her ashtray so hard that the entire stick broke apart then glared up at the light bulb struggling to remain attached to the ceiling but struggling to fully illuminate the small room. ‘Damn it! Would it kill someone to get me a better light bulb!?’ She slammed the desk with the palm of her hands, sending the sound echoing through the warehouse.
‘Maybe if you reduced your cigarette intake by forty you’d be able to see better. What’s this?’ Kouji too leaned over the desk to peer down on what looked like blueprints for something he didn’t recognise.
‘Plans for something big, something desperate.’ she said, stretching. Standing directly under the light the lines on her aged face became prominent as intense shadows highlighted them. She stood up straight, adjusting her kimono. ‘Come here Kouji!’ She opened her arms.
‘Mother.’ Kouji smiled, rounding the desk to hug her.
Hido and Miyako stepped inside.
You’ve gotten so tall. What happened to you?’ Her smile turned into a worried frown.
‘It’s part of the reason we’re here.’ Kouji looked at his peers. ‘These are Miyako and Hido, Miyako, Hido, this is my mother Ikuhara Midori.’ He parted from her, moving to his friends’ side.
‘It’s not about your father is it? Has he gotten worse?’ Midori asked worryingly, her common vexed visage gave way to a gentler, motherly face that the Yakuza never saw.
‘It’s not about him and... Yeah...’ Kouji looked away, avoiding his friends’ gazes of intrigue.
‘What’s wrong with your father? Hido asked.
‘It’s not relevant.’
Miyako eyed Kouji with interest, feeling her own heart beat more purposely, a sign that her body was trying to read him.
‘Come, sit.’ Midori sat down behind her desk while Kouji allowed Hido and Miyako to take the remaining two metal holding chairs, he himself leaning on a wall.
‘You’re a member of the Yakuza?’ Mikayo asked.
‘I’m one of the leaders and have been even before this mess.’
‘You’re talking about –’
‘Kouji!’ Miyako warned.
‘I said it’s fine to say his name Miyako.’ Hido reassured.
‘We don’t know anything! That’s why we’re here.’
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Midori leaned forward in curiosity.
The three remained silent long enough for Midori to lose a bit of her softness. ‘Our teacher was murdered yesterday because he was talking about... things that happened before we were born.’ Kouji eventually said, slowly meting his mother’s eyes.
&nbs
p; Midori relaxed. ‘Ah yes. Him. I read about it in the newspaper about your teacher’s death. I’ve been around quite a while now and know when he’s trying to send a message to people like us. People who survived his takeover of Japan.’ She smiled weakly. ‘None of us could believe it when he took over Japan. When he had complete control he sent Keys out to eliminate us. Our numbers fell harshly, many of my friends never lived to see the dystopia he created. I don’t know whether to envy them or not.’ Midori shook her head, standing up and facing away from the three with arms folded. ‘The Yakuza refused to succumb to his pressure however so we divided into much smaller ranks. None of us know how but those who rebelled against him and survived have become immune to his ability to control the masses. We’re noticeable though, so we best to fit into society or lay low and avoid his eye.
‘For a politician though, he was very short-sighted. We may not achieve our result through the most moral of means but, we still contributed positively to society – take the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. The Yakuza contributed their services to help ease the suffering of those affected. It doesn’t matter to him though – he only sees things in black and white; good or bad. There is no grey area.’
‘If he has eyes everywhere then surely he can see everything?’ Kouji pointed at.
‘That is true,’ replied Midori. ‘But by that logic should none of his spies be around he is blind. For all he knows we don’t exist. That is of course if one of you three is under his influence.’ She faced the trio.
The statement created an anxious tension to form between Kouji, Miyako and Hido.
‘Just kidding. His characters don’t operate like that. They’re more... passive, as you see them on the street.
‘But then who killed our teacher?’ Miyako asked.
The question threw Midori off.
‘Mother?’ Kouji almost pleaded, knowing that his mother had the answer to the question that not just him Hido and Miyako held but Kioshi, Seito and Aki as well.
‘The person you’re looking for is probably among a set of people who Akira holds for cases as the once you saw; the deadliest people you will ever encounter if you’re unfortunate enough to. I don’t know what they go by now but before they were known as the Reapers of Justice. Or simply: the Reapers.’
‘Reapers?’ The Miyako, Kouji and Hido repeated simultaneously.
Midori sat again. ‘Before the world changed the Reapers handled monsters known as Nightmares – horrible creatures.’ Midori interlocked her fingers, thoughtfully. ‘But now they have been twisted into his Assassins...’
The stabbing of rain on the roof of the warehouse could be heard as no-one said anything for a while. As they had all been talking, no-one had noticed just how audible the rain was as it splattered against the windows and sprinkled the roof to produce a hollowed echo that bounced across the warehouse. A few of the Yakuza members had left, other matters to attend to while others stayed, conversing with each other or continuing to work on the cars.
‘It’s not too late to go home and behave as if none of these events have happened.’ Midori offered, sliding her glasses properly onto her nose.
Kouji however placed withdrew from his pocket the specialised bullet, placing it carefully on the the desk so that it would stand. ‘I’ve had to kill a boy, mother. I can’t go back...’ Kouji looked away.
Midori sighed, slouching with her hands resting interlocked on her stomach and looking at the corner of the room dreamily. ‘If you are choosing to immerse yourselves in the affairs of a world that you didn’t belong to then there are things you need to know. This in particularly relates to your father, Kouji.’ Her eyes fell on Kouji’s expressionless face. ‘The Reapers were originally tools of the government; Keys with “Advanced Tier” abilities who believed that with their abilities it was their duty to help Japan any way that they could. If the time came any one of them could shift the course of an entire war. Imagine a soldier that was bulletproof, imagine a soldier that could never even die. Imagine a soldier that could heal the wounded and even regrow limbs. No-one knew who these men and women were as because they covered their faces. They were like Super Sentai.’ Midori smiled at the idea of superheroes. They feel like a myth when just ten years ago superheroes walked the streets.
‘Super Sentai?’ Hido folded his arms.
‘It was an old television show that got cancelled soon after Akira fully took over Japan. It was about colourful superheroes who protected Japan from evil. Anyway,’ Midori laughed, embarrassed. ‘A Reaper could be your friend, your neighbour, your mother or father. But they were dispatched when a Nightmare threat grew out of control when not even the police couldn’t contain the threat – something that happened far too often, part of the reason why people hated Nightmares.’
‘What are those?’ Hido asked.
‘Nightmares are horrible creatures as common as the people who once walked the streets as free people.’ Midori leaned in now, formally addressing the question. ‘They are the physical manifestation of one’s negative emotions. You see, Humans and Keys alike are more than flesh and blood.’
Kouji, Miyako and Hido were instantly drawn in by Midori’s claim. ‘What do you mean by more than flesh and blood? Miyako leaned in closer.
‘The Yakuza have long since believed that the body is composed of three parts: the body (the vessel), the mind (the control centre) and most importantly the soul (your will). He was aware of this too. Let me explain to you the basics of mind-based abilities. It’s all about the eyes first and foremost. Without the eyes these abilities are useless. You’ve all heard that the eyes are the windows to the soul?’
The three nodded.
‘This derives from this belief that has been around since before feudal times. Through the eyes a Key with the power of Mind-Control can affect the mind. Yakuza believe that he is so much stronger because he uses the eyes as a gateway to enter the body, taking over the mind like a virus to then seek out the soul and then banish it. Without the soul the vessel is nothing but a manipulable shell that knows how live but has no direction or resolve – no will.’
‘The Deprived’s souls have been banished? How?’ Miyako’s curiosity had by now consumed her entirely.
Midori chuckled. ‘Yes, the Deprived as we called them. It has been long theorised that the soul itself is a gateway to another dimension – a powerful dimension and its energy that powers our souls and gives us our will. He must have been able to banish it to a completely different dimension. One (many believe) is the ultimate dimension of darkness.’
‘This dimension,’ Miyako stood bringing herself desperately closer to Midori, ‘it’s where the Nightmares live... isn’t it?’
‘Yes it is. You’ve been there, haven’t you, Miyako?’ Midori said carefully.
Miyako looked past Midori, staring into space. ‘Yes... It makes sense now...’
‘What makes sense Miyako?’ Hido was half on his seat, resisting the urge to calm Miyako who he knew was on the verge of hysterics.
‘I’m a Key... My soul can read another soul but the Deprived have none.’ Her eyes met Midori’s hard gaze, folding her arms around her body. ‘Within the Deprived there is a hole where the soul was; a black hole and when I try to feel their soul I’m drawn in, sucked into the Nightmares’ dimension where their souls struggle...’ Her eyes closed. ‘I could feel the darkness...’
She licked her lips.
‘The darkness was alive...’ She stood on the spot as the sensations that she felt returned to her as if she were still there. ‘The power of the Nightmares’ dimension have given the lost souls a physical form, they want to escape, they want me to help them.’ She could see herself sinking into the blackness, dragged down by thousands of chalky-white hands.
‘Miyako!’ Midori snapped.
Miyako was startled back to reality.
Midori was standing now, face a stern face that anyone close to her recognised as her default expression. ‘You must be d
rawn to the darkness or else you will be lost forever. Or worse... You might lose your humanity and become an abomination. The Nightmares are incredible creatures with raw physical strength but are also Keys of Darkness itself! When a person’s negative emotions reach its peek that person spawns a Nightmare!
‘The Eclipsed – the people who have spawned a Nightmare lose themselves completely to the darkness. They are no longer human but something more sinister and dangerous, capable of unimaginable cruelty.’
‘Is father...’ Kouji trailed off but soon swallowed his nervousness. ‘Is father an Eclipsed?’ He thought back to the sight of his father sitting lifelessly in his wheelchair with skin transparent, a network of black veins visible and making him look like a living corpse.
Midori didn’t meet Kouji’s eyes and let the room fill with the song of the rain as she became silent.
‘Mother...’ Kouji stood.
Still Midori didn’t respond.
‘Mother!’
Midori’s body jolted. Reluctantly she faced her son. ‘Yes... and no...’
‘What does that mean!?’ He asked desperately.
‘It means that your father is a strong man. The same part of us where the Nightmares come out of is the same place where we draw our will. If your father still has some semblance of humanity then his soul must still be there no matter how small it may becoming.’ She frowned, turning her back to him.
None of the three teenagers knew what to say.
Finally Midori said, ‘You now know the answer to the question of who killed your teacher. What do you plan on doing with it?’
‘We’re going to fight!’ Hido offered but his voice didn’t convey the enthusiasm that his raised his voice implied.
‘Even if you know that by returning the world to how it once was you may unleash upon us a greater evil?
The three looked at each other and they all thought the same thing; that their resolve to fight might not be as strong as they initially thought it was and that Tamashii Kioshi might be alone in his mission to create his own Paradise.
BLACK