Three days. Three. Long. Arduous. Days.
Kuroshiro wished for once he were in Okinawa, so he could have captured a mizuchi for aquatic transport. Granted, he would probably have to defend himself from its attack after it would fling him onto the shore. Hey, it sure beats flying. He found himself crossing the state border and arriving in “Be-jin-ya” … “Veh-jin-nya”…. Never mind.
He touched down on a soft grassy hill deep within a light forest. He lay on the grass in sheer exhaustion, jetlag, and boredom. It’s hard to understand, but even spirits get tired, especially if they’re connected to the earth somehow.
Kuroshiro looked for some sort of nourishment. The closest tree provided a rare fruit that wasn’t indigenous to Japan. Can’t hurt to try seeing I’m missing my Midori for this. Floating up, he tried to grab at the fruit.
His hand passed through the tree like water in midair. Really, man? You’ve been at this job for how long? The full moon wasn’t for another seven hours, if his American internal clock was correct. He reserved himself to the ground and tried to crane his head around.
A lake was in the direction of his feet but it would take a cliff side drop to get there. In his condition, he didn’t feel like falling any more than he had to. To his left and right, more trees, mainly coniferous. As for above his head, Kuroshiro couldn’t reach that far but he could have sworn footsteps were in his ears.
He got up and turned to see a older gentleman in a light brown suit approach him. The man was in his apparent thirties and wore a stony scowl that complimented the fussiness of his exuding aura. His hair was finely combed in a blond color resembling one part prepared interviewee, one part serial killer. His green eyes were surprisingly calm and brought his light yet shocking voice out even more when he spoke.
“You know, even if you did get the fruit, it’s very distasteful. Southern crabapple, I’m afraid. Though, I wouldn’t expect that from a newcomer.” With that, his features softened. “That being said, welcome to Virginia. Sic semper tyrannis, as the motto goes.”
“Watashi wa kangaemasu... Futatsu-me.” With this Kuroshiro contorted his neck and mouth, trying to remember his high school English while give himself a slightly more American accent. Luckily, it was his best subject.
“Thank you. The name’s Kuroshiro.”
“Michael Davenport, resident spirit and psychopomp. What’s your district?”
“Hibiya/Shinjuku, Tokyo Prefecture.”
“Long way from home, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose Maikerru. Sorry if I butcher your language, by the way.”
“Trust me. You speak better than most Americans.”
“My mission is to protect a group called the Misso-raje-ku Kari-shessurusu Kurabbu. Let me try that again…”
“Actually, I think I got that. You’re looking for the resident sideshow attractions. The Mythological Creatures Club, right?
“Normally, I don’t do stuff like this, but you’re right. But this is a special eku-sepu-shon. See, one of my contacts stated another contact…”
“Madame Yagata contacted Tetsuya Tamadashi, who in turn told you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Let’s just say you have people looking out for you. Yagata said this job wouldn’t be easy and there is always a truth to her words. Now, I haven’t contacted them yet so they’re all yours to work with. Before I go, Yagata wanted you to have this.” With this he produced a wooden box, large enough to fit a tall book, thick enough for a thick book.
“She’ll let you know when to open it. It contains a nice surprise and will come in handy, from what I’ve heard.” Michael turned to return to his psychopomp duties.
Kuroshiro interjected a “Thank you, Maikerru.”
The man in the suit turned. “Arigato will suffice, Kuroshiro.”
黒白
With his tired body, Kuroshiro trudged to the clearing where Michael had pointed towards in the forest. There was the mansion, lights on and sun setting. The moon just nearly rose in the sky, producing a near physical effect. He kept going, left, right, left, right. One foot, one foot. The mansion grew in size, leading to a thought to cross his mind. Americans sure like their big houses. I haven’t seen a mansion this big since my vacation to Ueda Castle. Then again, this isn’t nearly as fancy as that one.
His strength seemed to waver but grew as the moon rose from the East. A Japanese moon, he thought. It was time to re-enter the realm of life.
Arriving on the main grounds, he could see people congregating throughout the windows. He just hoped he wasn’t interrupting anything. There was the door. With a final gust of energy, he brought back his arm.
And knocked three times.
The mansion suddenly quieted, with tense anticipation or painful fear. He heard footsteps coming towards him.
The door swung open lightly and out popped the head of a woman who looked older than Kuroshiro. Her straight blue hair deeply complimented the oranges of the sky. Her eyes seem to light up with a blood red fascination, which outshone his dull blue. Her face was “Finally, the food has arrived! Pray, my good sir, how much…wait, where are the pizzas? We requested several orders.”
Kuroshiro cleared his throat. “Konichiwa…uh, I mean, hi.” One could feel the awkward resonating from the body heat off of the two.
He could barely make out the inside of the house when the woman grabbed him from the shirt.
Kuroshiro could now see the woman as she was fully. She wore what appeared to be a black, lacy opera dress with matching opera gloves. He definitely took her as a Lolita fashion aficionado. Her feet were bare on the hardwood floor as she gave him a quick look-over.
“You do not appear like a hostile person. You dress too casually. Yet, I cannot help but think there is something to you.”
“You would be correct in your assampu-shon. I am actually here to help you, that is,” with this he leaned next to the woman, “if you are a member of the MCC.”
Her face lit up. “Splendid! Simply splendid! I must go tell the others. They will be so delighted!” As she turned, she spun once more around. “A thousand apologies, but I forgot to introduce myself. I am Colette Marie Duncan. Though for informality’s sake, please call me Colette.”
“Name’s Kuroshiro. Thank you for your generous hosu-pitari-tee.”
With a light curtsey, she excused herself.
This gave time for Kuroshiro to not only wonder if they were all like Colette, but to examine his surroundings. The foyer was open with a staircase snaking along each of the walls. Décor was limited to plants and generic paintings but what was used seemed to tie the atmosphere together. The opening under the stairs was spacious which led to several adjoining rooms.
Colette returned with a cavalry of people, all different sizes and looks. They began to pepper him with questions but Colette would have none of it.
“Please, can everyone give a silence?” The hush fell across the foyer. “Thank you all. As you can see, we have a new guest. His name is Kuroshiro and he is going to tell you about himself. I do not want any more people being traumatized by these inquisitive deluges we seem to choreograph every time. It simply makes a bad impression. If that is okay with you.”
“Thank you. I guess I’ll give some sort of biography.”
With this, he began. “My name is Kuroshiro, and I am a ghost; an Einherjar kami, the spirit of a dead warrior, to be exact. I was born in Tokyo in 1973…”
黒白
After he finished recounting, Colette suggested, “Kuroshiro is still very tired from his journey. If you want to return to your activities, he will be around to-.” She was cut off by the fact that everyone seemed to be busy so everyone left.
“Please do not mind them. It just seems every day new arrivals appear. They must sick of it by now.”
He first talked with a green skinned girl with white hair. Her primary language was French as she introduced herself with a solid, “Bienvenue à notre famille, Kuroshiro.” However, she could revert to English. “My name is Acacia, and it’s such a pleasure to have a new member.”
“Thank you. May I ask you what type of negi?”
“Excusez-moi?”
“I…wait…you’re not a spirit representing a negi? As in a green on-yon?”
Her voice grew into a torrent of frenetic direction and she spat her language like a stereotypical Italian mother. “Encore une fois avec l'humour de légumes! Je suis une mandragore! Je n'appartiens pas dans l'allée des produits! Si plus d'entre vous pensent qu'ils sont soooo drôle, gardez-le à venir! Voyez où que vous reçoit!!"
Kuroshiro made a mental note. Some of the houseguests have short tempers and do not like being called vegetables.
He then decided to speak with a younger girl but still in her teens. Her bright red hair was a faded version of Colette’s eyes. She had grey wings upon her back, marking her as an avian hybrid. He sat in a chair to the left of her but it was obvious by her gunshot stare she did not want to be disturbed. Kuroshiro thought it was no time to press his luck.
He was going to try to talk with the kemonomimi but Colette interrupted his train of thought. “Mr. Kuroshiro. I hate to be a burden, but there is a long-distance call for you.”
“Thank you, Colette.” He left the red-head to whatever she was doing. As I reached the phone, Colette touched my shoulder. “Do not worry about Ela. She is simply warming up the fact she now has friends.” So her name was Ela.
Kuroshiro nodded and took the phone as Colette politely left. “Hello?”
A woman’s strong voice commanded the receiver “Not a day out of Japan and you forgot the language. What will I do with you, Heiji?”
He realized who it was and switched quickly to Japanese. “I trust that interrupted your sleep just so you could make this call?
“At my age kid you don’t need beauty sleep.”
“I still can’t avoid you even if I leave the country, can I – Madame Yagata?”
Her voice of wisdom and cracks betrayed her age. Voice, however, did not betray appearance. She was an old woman, yes. Her age did not slow her down, though. She was still very youthful in her mind, as quick as a whip and just as biting.
“I will follow you ‘til I die, then I haunt Hibiya with you forever. Would you like that, little Heiji?”
“No, and you know what? I do enjoy this chit-chat as much as the next person but can we get to your point, please? Before the phone slides through my ghostly hand?”
“Picky little boy, you always were. Anyway, how’s your AMERU-KANU RAIFURU?!” These words she said a considerable amount of gusto and Engrish.
“One, that was annoying but I’ll ignore it. Two, the Americans are quite interesting, though it seems what they say about the French is true.”
“I see…well, you’ve talked to Mr. Davenport I assume?”
“I’m here, so yeah. He gave me a package.”
“Thought you might like that. Tetsuya gave me his part and I did what I could. We feel you’ve earned a little prize for your work in Hibiya. You may open it, now.”
“Really, you shouldn’t-.” he said as he saw what it was and promptly shut the box again. “Don’t tell me the-.”
“The one you eye sometimes at that Ginza bar? Tetsuya said it’s one of his favorites, you know. When I predicted your trip, I knew you needed this. Under stressful times, don’t we all?”
“Thank you. Honestly, thank you so much for thinking of me this night.”
“A word of caution for your task, Heiji. I predicted that this is not just a mission, as Michael Davenport has told you. This will be a quest of much consequence. If you think for a second there is a chance you will return in one piece, mentally or physically, you’re a dead man. There’s just no getting around it. So enjoy your fun. You may finally get off this rock tomorrow. Just remember no one gets out alive or dead. They just leave. So until you get back, you’re dead to all of us. It’s brutal, I know. I’m seventy-three, so I don’t really know how to lie.”
“Heiji?”
“Kid?”
“Thanks, Yagata. If I do make it back, don't die on me, you old hag.”
"Good to know you still have a fighting spirit."
黒白
Kuroshiro and Colette gathered the MCC together at the table. There, Heiji unveiled his prize. Pure Japanese style Midori and Damrak Gin, 1897 label. Colette grabbed soda from downstairs for the younger ones. Kuroshiro made the one drink these bottles were made for. Okinawa Island, straight style. It was his favorite drink. The other older people made what they could or just grabbed a soda, depended on their convictions. Before they drank, he got up.
“I’d like to make a tosu-tu. To the MCC. May we get through this, may we live happy lives, and may I never see you at my shop.”
Glasses were clinked and drinks taken. Kuroshiro downed his Okinawa Island.
Colette leaned towards him. “So, how is your drink?”
“Should really be made by a professional bartender, but it is all there.” He then noticed an empty chair. “Colette, every seat's taken but one. Did something happen?”
“Oh, that is Akira’s chair. She is our leader.”
“Akira, huh? I’d like to meet her. Where is she?”
“She is-.”
A howl cut the night in half.
“A werewolf. Tonight is the full moon.”
---------------------------------
Couple things:
1) Hope I didn’t screw up Colette, Acacia, and Ela too much.
2) We should clarify who’s in the mansion and who’s not (if not, where are they?)
3) I don’t intend to use Davenport and Yagata all that much. If you want to know what type of personality Yagata has, think Yuuko from xxxHolic meets Ma Dola from Castle in the Sky. Michael Davenport is kind of like Inspector Lunge meets Johan Liebert, both from Monster, just without the complete insanity!
Other than that, it’s up to animelover7310 now to say what happened to Akira. So until then, yeah.
