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Chapter Forty Six
Cicatrix
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Ren’s hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
The trickle of blood was still on his knuckle. It had dried some time ago, but the night around him made it burn his eyes like the sun. It had to have been from him, of course; there was no obvious mark or sensation of injury, but the idea that he had actually hurt Race was simply not a possibility. It had to be his blood.
The quiet night around him had crept past midnight without his noticing, and the distant light of Tokyo behind him grew faint as he approached a small, overgrown path, so concealed by the flora that he nearly missed it. Branches scraped against the windows, dirtying the otherwise pristine coupe as it followed the path to a gravel lot adjacent to an old shed, the only indication of modernity in the otherwise antique design being the large metal doors at one end of the structure. A lock had been placed on them several years before during a police investigation, but the handle had been broken off one of the doors and the lock now secured only the functional handle.
Slipping into the building, Ren’s forearm instinctively covered his mouth in an attempt to avoid the heavy dust kicked up at his arrival from entering his lungs. The slim tables along the walls and the wide tables in the center of the room were covered in wooden crates, half-finished carvings, rusted tools, and a slew of papers littered about with illustrations of mask designs haphazardly inked on them, and all caked under a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The whole room radiated the smell of dry decay, with not a drop of moisture to be heard of.
A glint of gold caught the corner of his eye, reflecting from the severely limited light. Turning towards one of the tables by the window, Ren slowly lowered his stance at the sight of a small wooden shrine, the golden illustration carved into the front perfectly replicating the appearance of the smooth, sleek mask Know had worn.
The glow from his pocket yet again ignored, Ren suddenly rolled forwards, spinning around to face the large black object that plummeted from the ceiling towards where he stood a moment ago. It slowly ascended, two thin legs supporting an armored body, the dark eyes glowing red as the flat, conical hat which covered them tipped upwards to reveal them.
“The demon’s eye.” Odgu’s wings unfurled as he spoke, brandishing his cane like a sword. “Give it to me.”
Ren slipped the wolf mask out of his pocket and onto his face as Odgu lifted the round hat momentarily. “You ever hear the moniker Effete?”
“No.” Ren rose just enough to enter a ready stance, lifting a rusty file off of the corner of the center table, ducking instinctively at the cloud of dust that followed its departure.
“Good.” The giant cicada lowered the hat again, covering the tattered theater mask which lay beneath it as six more giant cicadas peered out of the shadows. “Very good.”
—
“Her name is Ado.”
There was just enough weariness present in Oisim’s glance down at Kohaku that she felt embarrassed for not clarifying further. “It’s just a stage name. A lot of young artists nowadays go by short titles to hide their identity.”
“Mm.” Oisim’s stoic expression returned as he looked back at the dark road before them. “There are many in your life with names they hide behind. Some choose to hide while others have no say in their seclusion.”
Kohaku put a tremendous amount of effort into not rolling her eyes in front of her father. With a slight shrug of her eyebrows, she delicately removed one of the earbuds from her ears and extended it up towards Oisim. “Want to hear it?”
The shifting of plaster cast against suitcoat drew her attention somewhat fearfully towards the ferocious figure of Goshiki in the seat behind her. With a slow glance at his overly protective bodyguard, the patriarch of the Makuei yakuza family accepted the earbud in his muscular fingers and placed it inside his large ear.
Kohaku had to turn away to hide her uncontrollable smile at Oisim’s revolted expression, his visceral frown and crinkled nose betraying his stoic demeanor whilst his eyes searched the interior of the vehicle for some nonexistent indicator as to what in the world he was listening to. As Kohaku turned her face back towards him, her smile abruptly disappeared, as his frown had flattened out and his disgust melted into something else.
“Remove it.” He muttered, his jaw so viscerally tightened his lips could barely move. Without moving her eyes off of him, Kohaku retrieved the earbud and cradled it in her fingertips. Straightening his posture once the earbud was free, Oisim slowly released his breath, taking a full minute before breathing in again.
“You did not know her for long.” His eyes slowly traveled down from the windshield, following every groove of the seat in front of him. It was nearly another minute before he spoke again, Kohaku having turned her expression towards the opposite window in the meantime, unable to continue watching and guessing at his point.
“I did not know her at all.”
Kohaku’s head slowly turned to face him as he continued. “She would never sing. She did not want to embarrass me with her smile. It is hard to look back on the unwelcome past and realize how greatly she revered me. But one night, she thought she was alone. She sung a song, which… This Ado reminded me of. I appeared and she apologized greatly. It was not enough that the yakuza took her from me in death; I took her from myself in life.”
Kohaku had opened her mouth to interject, but the sharp exhale from Goshiki in the seat behind her drew her eyes off her father and towards his bodyguard, whose threatening glare was far less menacing than before, now carrying a more honorable light. It made her pause long enough for Oisim to smear away his tears unobserved.
“You must not fail.” He continued, turning his head just enough to see his daughter. “He will be hurt. He will have hurt others when we reach him. I do not know what it will take to make him yield. But I have already buried my Aiko.” He turned towards the windshield once more, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim night with the same methodical precision he always displayed. “I will not bury you.”
The song had ended long ago. Though it was yet fresh in their minds, neither of them could recall the words.
—
It wasn’t the feeling of his shoulder threatening to dislocate after the impact that bothered him the most. Nor was it the intense vertigo he was experiencing due to the ground around him tipping and turning in every direction imaginable.
What bothered him the most was that, in the middle of fighting off seven Odgus long enough to realize six of them were nothing more than a trick, the flash of Tone in the corner of his vision had been enough to completely drop his guard, allowing the real cicada to fling him back through the metal doors and out into the gravel lot.
“It would be better if I could replicate the voice.” Odgu marched out of the woodshed, several duplicates appearing from behind him and forming a circle around Ren. “But even if I knew what he sounded like, these wings can only do so much. Perhaps Tone can fill in for himself next time.”
Eyeing the ever-tipping ground for the steps of the multiple cicadas, Ren isolated the only one whose feet made realistic contact with the gravel lot and dove towards him, losing momentum a moment later as three of Odgu’s clawed limbs grabbed him and forced him to his knees. “Try not to throw up on me, okay?”
“S-Stop-” Ren gurgled, trying and failing to adjust to the constantly altered world around him. “I’ve- Corey… I need-”
“You can explain it all to Tone when he gets here.” Odgu sighed, dropping his cane as his free hand rummaged through Ren’s pockets. “But the eye is staying with me.”
No sooner did Odgu’s claws touch the eye in Ren’s front pocket than the whole world snapped into darkness with a cold emptiness that swallowed everything in sight. Looking up from his new position on his back, Ren saw the demon eye, far larger than it had appeared before, its hollow pupil staring directly into Odgu. The cicada was frozen in place, and for several seconds it seemed as though Ren would succumb to the irresistible pull of the void, which suddenly ended as if it had never begun, allowing the world to creep back in from the darkness.
“𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃.” The Demon eye spoke, floating down to Ren’s hand. “𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒲𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹.”
“You killed him.” Ren’s eyes refused to move from off Odgu’s static form, which stood with arms outstretched to clutch at Ren’s attire. “You just killed him.”
“𝒟𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓊𝓁𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝒹𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃.” The Demon spat. “𝑀𝓎 𝑒𝓎𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎; 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉. 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇. 𝒴𝑜𝓊, 𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓁𝓊𝓍𝓊𝓇𝓎.”
“…Right.” Ren breathed, forcing himself back to his feet and dusting off his sleeve. “Just tell me where I need to go.”
—
“Asahikawa.”
Race rubbed her sleeve across her nose, turning it to avoid the red droplets around the cuff. “I sent him to the woodshop. Called Odgu to let him know. He’s there by now.”
“I’m f-fine.” She continued, trying and failing to conceal the sound of her sniffing her nasal passages clear. “No, I’m fine. I got the equipment hooked up. It took me a minute to figure out what I was supposed to do.” Her eyes looked at the medical equipment all around her, many of the wall panels having opened up to reveal several apparatuses, with a large machine extending from the ceiling and attaching inside the cavity in her stomach. “It was really unpleasant watching it act on its own. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this awkward.”
“I said I’m fine.” She huffed, leaning back into the computer chair and drawing her knees up suddenly as the mechanical arm shifted to accommodate her new position. “You need to get over there and intercept him, okay? I’ll be fine. He didn’t do anything to me really.”
“Please.” She swallowed, her voice shaking in spite of her words. “Don’t hurt him.”
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