Yokai Calling

13. Masanori

8

Masanori

Eight buildings making up the grounds of Tsukiko Academy skirted the northern edge of the city. Vibrant cypresses were cultivated to form a natural wall, their needles capturing the waning sunlight. The plants hummed as Masanori, Hidekazu, and Aihi followed the masked woman up the hill and deeper into the academy grounds.

The information Barame provided them could make or break their investigation of the kan’thir and the missing noblewomen. Still, Masanori was too preoccupied with the incredible campus to consider what Barame might have kept from Benri Yui.

Masanori never believed he would set foot on the Tsukiko Academy campus. As a school of war and having been banned from using any weapon, even visiting had been impossible. The punishments he faced for stealing his mother’s katana would be nothing compared to what his parents did to him for indulging such fantasies.

Coming to the academy, at least once in his lifetime, was worth whatever inventive punishment his parents might come up with if they discovered his visit.

Between him and Hidekazu, Aihi wore a permanent frown, as if sickened more by each step on tainted cobblestones. For her sake, Masanori drew in his curiosity and rampant desire to explore as much as possible. They were here for business, not leisure.

At the top of the hill, the path spread out around the main building. The front half was a traditional style with a veranda and fusuma doors. On the fabric was the Tsukiko Academy emblem: a sacred messenger serpent wrapped around a silver hourglass. The creature’s blue scales and feathered wings were iridescent in the evening light.

The back half of the building was a towering, multi-layered pagoda with white and blue-tiled rooftops, set apart like dragon scales. At the stunning apex twelve floors high, a silver dragon head reflected like a beacon. Each precise detail in the architecture and atmosphere stunned Masanori to silence. Like when he visited the tamashii tree, his spirit warmed to such a peaceful place. He wanted to be here, no matter how much his parents had tried to hammer the horrors of warfare into his head.

The masked woman led them to a side entrance, a simple door that opened into a courtyard. She bowed and indicated for the trio to go on their own. “Headmaster Meki awaits you.”

Aihi led Hidekazu and Masanori into a grand courtyard of worn stone, where planters of blue hydrangeas lined the surrounding luxurious verandas. Cotton and silk pillows and throws decorated wide viewing beds facing the courtyard. Crickets sang in the distance, the insects eager to announce the arrival of night, though orange and red still painted the sky.

In the corner of the courtyard, a middle-aged man knelt behind a low table.

Aihi slowed when she spotted him.

“What’s the plan?” Hidekazu whispered.

“Let me do the talking,” she said. “Should Headmaster Meki address you directly, think hard about your responses. Imagine him as the riddling tengu we faced as children. He will steal the skin off your back if you let him.”

The comparison made Masanori swallow hard, as losing the skin on his back was exactly what happened when the tengu in question tricked him before. A nasty scar marred his lower back as a result.

Meki Barame’s head swivelled toward them, and he bowed, almost touching the ground. “I am honoured by your presence, Exalted Dragon Princess.”

He wore a plain black kimono, overlaid with a silver, short-sleeved kosode. Though only a little older than Masanori’s father, Barame’s hair was snow white and flowed over his shoulders like a moonlit waterfall.

When he raised his head, he looked straight at Masanori. “And, of course, I am honoured to at last meet the sons of the formidable Genshu Sachi and Genshu Dano.”

Did that count as addressing him? Masanori opened his mouth to speak, but being in the presence of a legend turned all words to ash in his mouth.

Not only was Barame one of the most renowned bushi in recent history, but he was also the last survivor of the Meki warlocks. Warlocks were the descendants of the Dragon Goddess, and with her divine blood running through their veins, they had power beyond the imagination of the majyu of today. Long ago, they created buildings and technology of pure ki, walked between Shirashi’s otherworldly realms. Their empire spanned continents, and warlocks travelled abroad to combat the spreading legions of the dark Wyvern God.

All of that ended forty-five years ago when every single warlock died sudden, brutal deaths. The Goddess’ army wiped out in one swoop. Except for the eight-year-old child Meki Barame.

“Do not let Meki Barame fool you,” Aihi said. “He has no honour to speak of. He should be thrown into the Warlock Cells for how he treats his students, for what goes on unreported within these walls.”

Barame chuckled. “One must make a move to create such a report, and were one to appear, I will not stop them. But alas, I remain at this school. The truth is simple: a certain princess blames herself as much as she blames me.”

“It is so like you to sit by, letting people die and leaving others to pick up the pieces.”

“Scrutinize your experience at Tsukiko Academy all you like, Your Exaltation, but the students who graduate from this campus pass the Majyutsushi Exams and become bushi without fail. They are loyal to Seiryuu, serve and die at your command.”

Masanori’s eyes darted between the pair, unsure whether to intervene or let the confrontation run its course. Of all the scenarios he imagined when coming here, he never expected Meki Barame to toe the line between insubordination and disrespect while also playing Aihi’s strings like a trusty lute. Nor did Masanori expect Aihi to stab at the man responsible for solidifying her father’s reign as emperor.

Their gazes locked in a silent war.

Aihi lost. “We did not come here for a debate. Give us the information we need, and we will be on our way.”

“Indeed, you wasted valuable time pursuing an absentee Guard Captain and Clan Leader Benri, who knows nothing.” With a wave of his hand, ki sparked in the air, and a cast iron tea kettle appeared on the table before Barame. Three cushions sat spaced out on the opposite side of the table. “Please, sit and have some tea.”

“We do not have time for tea. The latest victim was taken eighteen hours ago. Imai Fuyuko and Satō Manami went missing a month ago.”

“It would be rude to do business with the Exalted Dragon Princess standing. Please enjoy these minor comforts.”

A battle of conflicting emotions raged on Aihi’s face, and Masanori wondered, not for the first time that day, what happened between the pair. What did Barame hold over Aihi that kept her from running at his first gesture of veiled disrespect?

“This better be worth my time.”

Aihi took the centre seat, and Hidekazu and Masanori settled beside her. The teapot floated to fill their cups, and lured by the warm, welcoming scent, Masanori sipped the bitter yet soothing liquid.

“During your meeting with Clan Leader Benri, I presume you did not mention the disposition of the kidnapper not because you lack this information yourself,” Barame said, “but because you wished to gauge whether she knew the truth or not.”

“Do you observe Benri Yui, or me?” A venomous smile spread across Aihi’s mouth. “You make a habit of spying on young women, do you not, Meki? It is no wonder you are familiar with the atrocities going unnoticed within this city.”

“Information is valuable, Your Exaltation. Only a fool would claim otherwise. In this case, my Shadows glean what might save the lives of more women. While the victimized noble families of Tsukiko hide behind their shame, we released a cursory warning to those at risk.”

“You narrowed down the kan’thir’s ideal victim?” Masanori blurted as soon as he understood Barame’s meaning.

Aihi narrowed her eyes at him, and he only just then recalled her warning not to speak unless spoken to.

“The kan’thir’s first victims were minor nobles, those not under the watch of my Shadows. They witnessed one of the kidnappings two months ago and reported the incident to me. However, based on information we since gathered: this sorcerer targets only young noblewomen, those with skill as a majyu.”

“We were under the impression the first attack occurred last month,” Aihi said.

“Imai Fuyuko was the first significant noble taken—the one who attracted the Benri clan’s notice,” Barame said. “Emboldened by the distraction of your birthday celebrations, perhaps. It was his first mistake.”

“But why noblewomen only? Why majyu?”

Barame shook his head. “Without a better understanding of his motives, we cannot say for sure yet.” His gaze flickered to Hidekazu, whose eyes were distant, as they always were when deep in thought. “You appear as though you have an idea, Young Master.”

Hidekazu recoiled as if surprised that Barame addressed him. When he recovered, he said, “If the kan’thir’s targets are those either within high society or adjacent to, and only majyu, it implies a fixation of their alignment with the Goddess. As the kan’thir are worshippers of Ozeki, his motivations could be an encompassing hatred for Ozeki’s sister, Shirashi.”

“Indeed, that is what I suspect as well.” There was a hint of satisfaction in Barame’s voice, and Masanori found himself wanting praise, too.

“The connection between noblewomen and majyu is loose at best,” Masanori said. “The overwhelming majority of the upper echelons of society are majyu. Few within the noble clans are altogether without ki.”

Masanori was one such few, and he made a point of acquainting himself with the few others in his unfortunate position. None of them were barred from other forms of warfare simply because they were not granted the Goddess’ gift.

“Indeed, which is why we cannot say for sure without knowing what happens to his victims,” Aihi said. “However, it is also an unfortunate truth that majyu sell better in Tajidain slave markets. If only I could believe his intentions were so mundane.”

Based on what Barame had revealed so far, Masanori came to another disturbing realization. “How many women are missing? Clan Leader Benri said she knew of six. But the way you talk about the incident, spanning over multiple months, suggests there are more.”

Barame took a sip of his tea, but considering how long he took, he was stalling. “Twenty-five.”

Aihi’s knuckles whitened. “Twenty-five, and yet you kept these incidents to yourself. You should have brought this straight to the shōgun.”

“You think I did not try? In the beginning, when I recognized the stakes, I requested Shōgun Mika send bushi to aid the investigation. A kan’thir threat cannot be ignored for long—not after last time. But she refused. Because of the—” Barame fished for words. “—the crisis in Nagasou.”

Masanori and Hidekazu lived in Nagasou, and never had he heard anything about a crisis. Being so close to the royal family, they would have been warned.

The shōgun, Aihi’s mother, was the military leader of Seiryuu. Furahau Mika was the emperor’s equal in authority and influence, though they maintained different domains within the nation. She controlled the army, including the bushi, and was a formidable warrior in her own right. In Masanori’s years working in the Jyutsu Laboratories and growing up with Aihi, he had grown close to Mika. At times, she was like a second mother.

The safety of the Seiryan people was her utmost priority.

“Shōgun Mika must have underestimated the threat,” Hidekazu said. “Should we submit a request on behalf of Tsukiko, she will send bushi.”

“She wouldn’t have.” Masanori slipped a hand under the table and played with the seam of his haori. “The shōgun would never make such a mistake.”

Masanori knew firsthand how capable she was. If she refused the call to Tsukiko, she had an excellent reason. But why? He glanced at Aihi, but she maintained an expression of practiced impassivity. It wasn't like Mika to ignore a significant threat such as a kan'thir.

“If you made a request already, I do not see Shōgun Mika overturning her decision,” Aihi agreed.

Hidekazu gave her a look. “All noblewomen in Tsukiko are at risk, yet that isn’t important enough to send a single bushi?”

“It is not a matter of importance. The situation in the capital is complicated. These women are... I do not wish to...” Aihi sighed and tried again. “Because of the lack of missing person reports from the families, it is possible the severity of the situation is misrepresented. Before I can promise bushi support, I require such information.”

“Which remains under Captain Todoroki’s authority,” Barame said. “But I suppose you found nothing in his offices; otherwise, you would not have come to me.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“My Shadows lost him within the Silent Hills. Where he went from there is a mystery.”

“Then I can do nothing about the bushi until his return.” Aihi finished the last sip of her tea and stood. “How unfortunate that you, of all people, have been the most helpful in our effort to locate the kan’thir. A shame, still, you offer no more than our absentee Guard Captain.”

“Wait.” Hidekazu raised his hands. “We’re not done here yet. What about the unusual energies blocking us from locating the kan’thir? Should we not begin another tracking method and triangulate his whereabouts through other means?”

“For months, we have recorded his every appearance, trying to glimpse a larger pattern in his choice of locations. While we are certain he comes from somewhere in the forests northeast of the city, all trails die in the trees. At this rate, it may be months more still before we uncover his hiding place.”

The truth of his words settled in the air, chilling Masanori alongside the cool night breeze. The sun disappeared beyond the horizon, winking out with the last of his hope. “You mean there is nothing we can do. The woman who was taken last night, we will not find her in time.”

“I am afraid not.” Barame bowed his head with sorrow. In this, he and Aihi were unified. “Unless we uncover pertinent information about the kan’thir’s location within the next twenty-four hours, we must operate under the assumption that she, alongside the others, is dead.”

“All of this has been for nothing,” Hidekazu said.

“Not nothing, no. Now you are here, and with the Exalted Dragon Princess at your side, perhaps you can make a difference.”

“What can we do? Masanori and I have been barred from the art of battle our whole lives. We had a chance to prevent the latest kidnapping, and we failed.” Hidekazu scoffed. “When will we receive another opportunity? And if by some chance we do, I do not foresee the circumstances as any different. We lack the training to face such an enemy, and in the days to come, that will not change.”

“But can it truly not?” Barame folded his hands on the table, leaning in. “You are here at this academy, after all, against all barriers put before you.”

“No,” Aihi said immediately. “I will not allow it.”

“With respect, Your Exaltation, this is not your decision to make.”

Masanori’s breath caught. “You want to train us? I mean, here, at Tsukiko Academy?”

“For the duration of this investigation, yes. It seems to me that you have no intention of returning to Nagasou while this issue remains unresolved. To allow you to involve yourselves and not prepare you for another encounter with the kan’thir would be agreeing to send you to your deaths.”

Train at Tsukiko Academy. Even temporarily, such an opportunity would help Masanori establish the foundation necessary to become a real swordsman. He could skip ahead months or years of his occasional sparring lessons with Aihi and Torra, which, while enjoyable, were as likely to make him a bushi as a raven was of becoming a koi by holding its breath underwater.

Possibility was hot in his core, ready to leap up and accept the offer without further question.

But reality set in just as fast. Attending the Academy was out of the question.

Such brazen disregard for the respect owed his parents would never go unnoticed, and the punishment would be much worse than being assigned an escort or washing the manor floors every day for a month.

An offer to train at such a prestigious academy only came once, and here Masanori sat, watching his dream slip through his fingers. All because his parents renounced their days as warriors, preparing to seek a more peaceful future instead.

The hypocrites changed their minds long enough to let Hidekazu train as a bushi, but they would never do the same for Masanori.

The thought of declining made a vein in his neck throb. He had no choice; the consequences of displeasing his parents could bleed far into the foreseeable future. He had to contribute to the investigation without compromising his situation.

“Thank you for your generous offer, Headmaster.” Hidekazu’s voice broke through the rushing blood in Masanori’s ears. He paused, giving Masanori a meaningful look. “But due to our family’s wishes, we are unable to accept.”

Hidekazu had always dreamt of attending Tsukiko Academy, too. Yet he would throw away this opportunity for Masanori’s sake?

Aihi’s lips quirked into a smile of amused victory. “There is your answer. I suppose that is why you invited them along?”

In all honesty, Masanori hadn’t factored in the vague accusations Aihi made against Barame into the decision. He’d been so overwhelmed by the sudden choice that he almost forgot she had it out for the man, and her reasons seemed to be legitimate. Maybe if he knew the truth, refusing wouldn’t feel so torturous.

Barame ignored the question, instead saying, “I look forward to our collaboration in this investigation, Your Exaltation. Whatever further information my Shadows unveil belongs to you. For all our sakes, I hope the Goddess guides us to the answers we require.”

“I will be in touch, Headmaster Meki.”

Aihi marched away without waiting for Masanori and Hidekazu. The twins stayed kneeling for a while longer before, at last, acknowledging Barame with a nod and following behind.