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Chapter Forty Four
Recidivous
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The power grid across Sendai flickered for a moment.
It didn’t matter how much Tone protested. His arguments, no matter how precise, were ignored, just as they were the night of the bank raid. Despite how Rook seemed to agree with just swapping the statue out someplace high and letting it get destroyed on impact, Ren refused to budge.
So it was with clear resignation that Tone racked the power grid of all of Sendai, to mask the military generators sputtering and failing across the ruined hotel tower. Rook reappeared at his side a moment later, slowly lowering himself to the low rooftop Tone laid upon.
“There’s a lot of people there.” The haniwa rattled as it gently touched the rooftop, the tape holding it together beginning to lose its strength. “I don’t like his odds.”
“Be careful with that thing.” Tone growled, smearing the palm of his glove across his temple. “That’s part of the Kumagai collection.”
“I can swap with something else, if you want.” Rook turned, the haniwa scraping against the shingles and threatening to rip the tape clean off. “There’s a department store in Sendai, maybe there’s a mannequin I could-”
Tone threw the back of his hand in front of the silver mask before he could continue. “Hitting all of Sendai took a lot of effort, so… Please stop talking. Or moving. Especially moving.”
It was an impressive twenty seconds before Rook spoke again. “Think it’ll work?”
Tone slowly rested the side of his head against his forearm, staring at the shining city in the distance. “It had better work.”
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The golden sky barely penetrated the dingy walls of the old building, dirty glass caked with cobwebs blocking most of the light shining from the setting sun. A thousand insects would call the hidden spaces between the old crates and somewhat-carved blocks of wood home, were it not for the sole occupant driving them back into the world by his mere presence.
The door behind him slowly clicked into place as he brushed aside a number of chisels lying on the open table, an incalculable amount of dust spilling upwards as a result. Through the newly-formed cloud he gently set a small shrine directly aside one nearly identical to it, the duplicate already placed having a gold-leaf illustration of a bonsai carved into the front. From inside his curled hand the occupant revealed a small plastic box, the label of which he tore through and revealed the delicate gold leaf arranged inside.
As his hand reached inside to retrieve the fragile metal, however, he slowly turned, his head dragging his body along with it until the obvious figure of Race standing in the corner came within view.
Odgu gingerly set the package of gold leaf down on the table. Race’s eyes landing on the wooden shrine prompted him to reach for it, turning towards its resting place only after his hand deftly grabbed at nothing but the dusty air.
“You’re really bad at hiding on rooftops with nothing else around them.” Race stepped forwards, turning to avoid the corner of a long and extremely crowded table covered in half-finished projects and enough dust to match the actual bunny population of the globe. “I honestly thought he saw you at least three times.” She extended her hand to return the wooden shrine to him.
Odgu gently accepted it in his hands after a long and hesitant process of reaching towards it. “I know you’re trying to honor him with this, but it’s a bitter honor.” She pocketed her mask as he reverentially set the shrine back in its place. “He’s not just a piece of gold to us.”
“It’ll take five minutes.” Odgu sighed, looking Race in the eye as her expressionless features let enough confusion slip through to make it apparent. “Yes, I’m talking about the burn. You’ve been fidgeting in place like there’s a bug on your back since you got in here. Turn around, please.”
He grabbed Race by the shoulder and spun her around, ignoring her hissing as he laced his inhuman hand on her lower back. Her fingers dug into the table as she resisted the urge to swing back around and kick him in the eyes, an effort which became easier and easier as a low hum built up from Odgu’s wings until the dust floating through the air vibrated with each crescendo. After far less than five minutes, Odgu retreated back towards the table, Race running a hand across her lower back to find any evidence the burns had ever existed had disappeared.
“I trust there won’t be any further difficulty requesting my services.” The large cicada pulled a trench coat out from under the table, removing a burner phone from its interior pocket and extending it towards Race. “To expedite things in the event I am needed, you’d better have my number. I’d write it down for you, but I’m not the best at using pencils.”
“I got it the moment I arrived.” She placed the wooden mask back atop her jaw. “We’ll let you know.”
The room descended into morose stillness once more, the sparkling gold leaf the only sign of life in the dust-caked woodshop. Odgu’s crimson eyes stared at the golden glow until his inhuman hand covered it.
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“Hōsha nō no sei da to omoimasu ka?”
Ren had to double back against the wall and cover his now completely exposed mouth to prevent any air from slipping through. The two soldiers in front of him seemed thoroughly unconcerned with the lack of power in the area, chatting as if this was all planned for.
Something came through the radios they wore which was so garbled Ren could not understand it, but the pair quickly looked up at the security camera in response. They each gripped their firearms and turned down an artificially constructed passage, one wall formed by the ruin building and the other by the tarpaulin blockade.
Slipping through a hole in the ruined wall, Ren crouched directly behind the toppled Tiger statue, the head of which had been cracked off at the neck. More security personnel milled about only a few paces away, prompting Ren to crawl through the massive legs of the structure, feeling around the broken neck which watching in the near darkness to see if he was noticed.
His fingers touched the edges of an extremely smooth hole, which contrasted with the rough break in the neck. Placing his palm atop the hole, he slowly released his breath and focused all his thoughts onto the Marble Tiger.
It had worked before. It had brought the hawk-like mask to him when it was well beyond reach. His desperation had been the key; perhaps, with the military present, he could find it again.
The flash of red tore his mind from it. Well past the armed soldiers was a distant silhouette, his face blended into the darkness, his body clad in bright red. The soldiers turned to face the figure as Ren’s heart nearly jumped into his throat. He could not warn them without jeopardizing himself.
Just as the soldiers raised their guns at the red-clad shadow, something touched the middle of Ren’s palm. Gripping it, he slid out from the Tiger’s legs and scrambled through the hole, trying his best to ignore the gunshots that erupted behind him. A stealthy hand felt the inside of his suit jacket, touching the grip of a gun that was not his.
Tearing through a corner of the tarpaulin, Ren raced across the open street, cars swerving to avoid his presence there. As he found himself hanging by the rear bumper of a car that refused to stop, Ren looked down in his trembling fist and into the pupil of the second Demon eye.
The figure’s reappearance caught his attention, his red suit striking through the darkened sky to force his attention. “Get Rook to Sendai, and hurry.” Ren coughed into the radio, locking eyes with the distant figure and his black skull-shaped mask. “We’ve got company.”
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