To Wake
a Munto fanfiction by Tripleguess
Genre: Fantasy/Drama
Rated PG-13+ for subject matter
March 10-April 2, 2009
Summary: The longest way round is the shortest way home. Sequel to King of Dreams.
Jump To...
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
They all knew that she stared at the sky. Two of them knew exactly why.
Many of them had seen the reason, but they didn’t connect it with her. No, nobody knew her sky like she did.
But that wasn’t all. After dark, when dinner was over and her homework was done, she often slipped out. Her neighborhood was safe enough. Her mom thought she was going for a walk in the cool night air.
And she was. But always in the same direction, a spot where the housing development ended and opened out into fields. A spot where a bridge had once stood, been demolished, then rebuilt at a slightly different angle to accommodate the new lay of the land.
A great hill stood where none had before – a massive, circular, abrupt chunk of land. When the moon was high, it cast a shadow over her house.
And emanating from its center…
Other joggers or pedestrians, glancing as they passed by, thought she was looking at the hill. No one else saw the whorl of light reaching up to the sky.
And not just any light. Akuto, living energy, flowed from her world to another, dissipating high above the clouds in another whorl mirror to this one. The great path was stable now, and she never tired of looking at it.
Someday, she wanted to go there and put her hands in the flow, wade into it up to her knees. Maybe it would carry her, lift her into the sky and the lands she longed to see again.
And maybe it would catch her thoughts and throw them up to the clouds. It’d been so long. Was anyone still listening?
She stood there and wondered. Eventually, she always went home.
X X X
“The raids into Shainan have increased since last month, and Holgooze is suspect. But nobody can prove it.”
Munto ran a hand through his wild mop of hair. “Guridori never learns.”
“Let’s just say he has a talent for piracy.” Rui touched the map in one spot after another. “Here, here, and here. No morph soldiers, a mix of technology, but too much of it to be the work of an independent band.”
“I suppose the Elders have plenty to say about that.”
“Oh, certainly. It’s not their fault, no one listens to them, and somebody should do something about it.”
“Somebody meaning me,” Munto growled. “You know, I remember when I was the problem…”
Rui grinned. “You still are. That’s why nobody listens to them.”
Munto cracked a reluctant smile. “That and their own failure to keep Holgooze under control before…”
He pushed away from the desk and went to the nearest window. It was a cool night, but he threw the shutters open anyway.
It was still there. A little hard to see over the room lights, but there.
Sometimes he thought it whispered. And that he recognized the voice.
“There’s something else, sir.”
Munto didn’t turn around. “Gunther.”
Rui nodded. “No one’s seen him in months.”
Munto looked out at the night a long time. “See if you can find Gus,” he said at last. “He may know where Gunther is.”
Rui inclined his head in assent. “I’ll ask Leica.”
“Mm.”
Munto turned back to the window. His gazed roved over the land he protected, possibilities and scenarios playing out in his head like a giant chess game.
Of course, some things were impossible to predict. Especially if you didn’t know the player’s motivation. He sighed and returned to the map, with a glance back at the glowing whorl off the edge of his island.
“How long is too long?” he asked it.
Gunther worried him. With Akuto restored, the United Army commander had no official reason to go after its source again. Still… perhaps the situation warranted a checkup.
And maybe he was letting his own interests get the better of his judgment. She wasn’t the only person for whom he was responsible. Technically, she wasn’t even a citizen of the kingdom.
He smiled briefly; the other citizens would probably contest that argument. If she hadn’t earned honorary status at the talks, she’d certainly won it by restoring the flow at his side.
He shook his head. This indecision wasn’t like him. It was true that he’d been busy, but when was he not? Raids and border squabbles weren’t going to stop just because his personal life was getting complicated.
Sooner or later, he had to know. The thought that she might’ve changed her mind made him cold, but not knowing was worse. She’d been young; she might, on returning home, prefer to blend with her peers and forget that she was different.
He shook his head again. He was remembering a different Yumemi, a frightened child who could barely look him in the eye.
And whether she’d changed or not, the fact was that she might be in danger. Whatever she thought of him now, he owed her protection.
He rolled the map and snapped the band in place, his mind made up. Sometime by the end of this month, he would go get his answers.
Ichiko ran her finger down the row of book spines, reading off numbers as she went. “100s, 110s, 112s, 113s…” Her hand hovered over an empty slot, where two books had fallen together after the volume between them had been pulled out. “It’s not here.”
“I’ll ask a clerk.” Yumemi threaded around Ichiko and headed for the reference desk.
“You’re too shy. I’ll ask them.”
“I can ask.”
“I’ll do it,” Ichiko argued.
Yumemi looked at her. “I. Can. Ask. Them.”
Ichiko was surprised into silence. Yumemi hailed a clerk, showed her the title scrawled on her square of scratch paper, and returned.
“She says there’s another copy in the YA section.”
“Lucky for us,” Ichiko grumbled. “Why couldn’t you do a report on fashion or cooking? Why psychology?”
“I need to understand how people think.”
“’And then you’ll get a degree in political science,’” Ichiko rehearsed wearily. “Why, Yumemi? I always thought you would go into botany or the arts.”
Yumemi found the shelf she wanted and tilted her head to scan the nonfiction. “I changed my mind.”
“You’ve been even stranger than usual lately.”
Yumemi pulled out a medium sized volume. “She was right. Here it is.”
Ichiko squawked. “That’s way too much reading!”
“That’s why it’s my assignment topic,” Yumemi smiled. Ichiko had picked soccer.
“Mmm… but I still don’t see why.” Ichiko rocked back on her heels and crossed her arms behind her head. Her balance was exquisite. “You pick these heavy subjects, but you don’t study as hard as you used to.”
Yumemi, thumbing through her book, paused. Her eyes took on a faraway look. “School is for someday,” she said finally. “The important things are happening right now. It’s enough if I learn something and pass the class.”
Ichiko shook her head. Normally, that kind of thinking was grounds for a Serious Talk between parents and teachers, the gist of which eventually trickled down to the offending student. But Yumemi’s parents had been so overjoyed to have their daughter back that they’d eased up on the grade pressure. Yumemi wasn’t a bad student, but…
“I get the feeling you don’t really care about school anymore.”
Yumemi handed her book and card to the librarian. “That’s not true. I want to learn.”
“Not that!” Ichiko threw her hands up. “School. Three boys have asked you out this quarter, and you turned them all down. You’re seventeen, and you’ve never had a date.”
Yumemi sighed. “Technically, social activities are not school.”
“One of them was cute. A senior, even.”
Yumemi put her card away and slid the book into her backpack. “I’m not interested,” she said quietly.
X X X
It wasn’t just that she was happier. In some ways, she was more serious. In class, when she’d finished an assignment ahead of time and had nothing else to do, she could be seen deep in thought with her eyes on the desk almost as often as looking out the window.
But her step was surer, and her gaze was steadier, and her smile was bright and ready. Suzume and Ichiko were still her best friends, but the other students had begun acknowledging her as well. She no longer moved through the crowds like a ghost.
But she wasn’t one of them. She was happy to chat and discuss general subjects, but nobody knew what she was thinking inside. Yumemi Hidaka remained a mystery. Her refusal to hook up when most of the other students had paired off didn’t help.
“I think it’s because of that time that she vanished,” Ichiko sighed.
The school counselor cleared his throat, and Ichiko came to with a start. “We were discussing your grades, Miss Ono,” he said politely.
“Oh, that’s so,” she said with embarrassment. He’d been droning on about her responsibility to work harder. At least, that was the last thing she remembered him saying before she’d tuned out.
He shuffled papers on his clipboard. “But perhaps your worry about Miss Hidaka is related to the drop in your grades.”
“Mo!” Ichiko clutched her head. “How am I supposed to concentrate when she’s acting so strange?”
“It’s hard when people start drifting apart,” the counselor sympathized.
“No!” Ichiko lunged to her feet. “We’re not drifting apart! We’re not!”
“Calm down, Ono.” The counselor poked his glasses farther up his nose. He was a thin, stooped man who wore a turban and spoke with an accent. A foreigner.
He’d only started working here in this winter. Ichiko wondered what he’d do with the turban when summer came. Melt, probably.
“Yumemi will always be my friend.” Tears stung her eyes. “Always.”
“Hmmmm.” The counselor reached into his metal drawer and pulled out a file marked Hidaka. “Perhaps Hidaka does not realize how much her altered behavior is upsetting you. Her teachers have noted the change in her as well.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Yumemi.” Ichiko was starting to feel like a rat.
He held up a placating hand. “I didn’t say there was.”
“She’s not like other people, that’s all. Never has been.”
“I agree,” he said, and the certainty in his tone seemed out of place for a new counselor. “Miss Hidaka is not like anyone else.”
He leaned forward. “That is why, Miss Ono, she may not realize why something is bothering you until a, ah, disinterested third party explains it to her. That’s all I meant.”
Ichiko stared at the floor. Yes, Suzume and Yumemi were her friends. But… it was slowly dawning on her, month by month, that they didn’t need her any more. Suzume had Kazuya; Yumemi had her untouchable sky.
And while Ichiko was loathe to admit that she needed them to need her far more than they’d ever needed her to protect them, she did sometimes wish that Yumemi would realize how much that sky of hers was taking her away from her friends.
But this was friend-friend business, not something for grownups.
“I don’t think so, sir,” she said firmly. “If Yumemi needs to be talked to, I’ll do it myself.”
Not that Yumemi listened to anything she said these days.
“Very well, Miss Ono. As you wish.”
She bowed her thanks.
“Make sure you study harder.”
She faked a smile and made her escape. The counselor sighed and re-read his clipboard, then flipped through Yumemi’s file. He reached for the intercom.
“Send Yumemi Hidaka to my office, please.”
“Right away, sir.”
He nodded in satisfaction and steepled his long, thin fingers. It had taken him a long time to work his way into this particular school system and earn the staff’s trust. Now all he had to do was wait.
X X X
“Ichiko! Where’s Yumemi?”
Ichiko lifted her head from the gym fountain, where she’d been dousing her cropped hair after a fierce tennis match. “What? Isn’t she with you?”
Suzume stumbled, catching the wall in time to keep herself from sprawling headlong. Then she shook her head. “I asked the secretary, and she said Yumemi’d been sent to the counselor’s office.”
Ichiko jerked upright. “What?”
Suzume worried her ponytails. “Do you think she did something to get in trouble?”
Ichiko was already running back towards the hall. “I told him to leave her alone!”
“Ichiko!” Suzume pattered after the taller student. “What’s wrong?”
By the time she caught up, Ichiko was arguing with the secretary. Finally she threw up her hands and turned away.
“You’re right. She’s in the counselor’s office.” Ichiko stalked down another hallway, Suzume tagging along behind.
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to wait for Yumemi. What else?” Ichiko found the office she’d been in earlier and parked herself opposite the door. “And if what I said got her in trouble, I’ll apologize.”
“What did you say?”
“I zoned out while he was talking about my grades and blurted out something about Yumemi,” Ichiko admitted. “I don’t know why he took such an interest.”
Her head snapped up. “Come to think of it, how did he know I was talking about Yumemi?”
“Didn’t you mention her?”
“Not by name. He’s new here. He can’t know all the students yet, never mind who their friends are. But he did know.”
She contemplated that a moment, then tried the door.
It was locked.
“Yumemi.” Ichiko banged on the door. “Mr. Ito! Hey, are you in there? Open up!”
No answer. Suzume gaped as Ichiko began kicking the door in.
“Ichiko!”
It was a flimsy Chinese lock, the kind students picked all the time with their ID cards. It sprang open on the third kick.
“Yumemi!” Ichiko plunged in, Suzume on her heels.
The room was dark. A strange smell hit her; faintly chemical, it reminded her of biology class.
Fearing the worst, she groped for a switch. After what seemed an eternity, the lights came on.
The room was empty. Yumemi was gone.
X X X
It took a precious fifteen minutes to convince the secretary that Yumemi was gone, really gone, not just in another office or in the locker room. The school staff undertook a quick sweep of the grounds in a rather indulgent manner, thinking but not saying that the dreamy Hidaka had probably wandered off somewhere and forgotten to tell her friends.
As floor after floor turned up dry, alarm set in and then spread. Students darted from stair to hallway to fire escape, calling out to the staff and to each other. The principal called the police and Yumemi’s parents. Ichiko ran herself ragged, hurtling through every floor in search of her friend.
It was too cruel. Yumemi had already gone missing once. At least the last time, Ichiko’d known that she was with someone she felt safe with. She had no such illusions about the school counselor.
Because he was gone too. Ito had vanished as completely as Yumemi had, and nobody knew where they’d gone.
After everyone had done everything they could think of, and the police had talked to the staff and the parents and assured everyone that they’d begin an investigation immediately, and all the crowd aside from Yumemi’s friends and parents had gone home, Ichiko couldn’t take it anymore. She sat down against the fence, chain links digging unheeded into her shoulder blades, and cried.
Cylinders. Darkness. Pain. Calling him –
He saw flashes of scenes he didn’t understand; strange buildings, small people with round ears like hers, the inside of a dark, cavernous space. Strange shapes like the pillars, but smaller and transparent. And suspended within one of them…
Munto. Help me. Munto…
“No!”
He bolted upright, hearing an echo of his cry fade through the room, and gasped for breath.
To hell with this.
He snatched his clothes off the nightstand. By the time Rui burst into the room, he was tugging on his boots.
“Munto! What’s wrong?”
“I have to go.”
Rui processed that. “How long?”
“As long as it takes. “ Munto glanced around the room, considering, and grabbed up a cloak. He really didn’t need anything else. “You and Ryuely take care of things while I’m gone.”
Rui bowed resignedly. They loved their king, they truly did. But he did tend toward the brusque side. A little information would be nice at times. Rui headed for the door. The sooner Ryuely knew what was going on, the better.
“Oh, and Rui.”
“Yes?”
She’d made a promise. He’d hold her to it. “The royal chambers.”
Rui almost fell over. “The ones shut up and barred since your parents’ time? The rooms that haven’t been touched since before the war? The chambers everyone’s almost forgotten about because you never, ever use them?”
Munto smirked.
“Ah. Those chambers. What about them?”
“Clean them.”
Rui’s jaw dropped. Munto laughed, ran to the window, and plunged off the edge of the sky.
X X X
“You’re a little fool. And he’s a bigger one.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t defend herself. She was having the worst dream of her life, and it scared her to death.
“Imagine letting you go back home, when he had the key to all time in his hands! He’s addled. Worse than his parents.”
She felt terribly vulnerable. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was utterly defenseless.
“He doesn’t know what’s happened to you. And should he come, I’ve taken precautions.”
She had to get out. Out. Anything could happen to her here, in this uncaring dark. Anything…
“Oh, don’t worry. You can’t wake up, but no harm will come to you.” A satisfied statement, from someone in complete control of the situation. “You’re going to be giving us Akuto for a long, long time.”
X X X
He followed the flow down, trailing a hand through the wall occasionally to catch echoes of the strength that had woven it. It was a long, long fall… but he’d done it before.
That had been before the continuum merged. This time, instead of landing in the world of death, he descended on the living land below his sky.
Something was wrong. He cast about for her presence, but it eluded him. He should be able to feel her, by now…
He refused to think about what that might mean. First things first. He considered the odds, then touched down in the fields near her home.
Mud squished under his knees. He got to his feet, brushed the worst of it off and took stock of his new surroundings. Fields behind him, bridge before; street and houses beyond. A few pedestrians dotted the asphalt, but were wrapped up in iPods or the pets they were walking. They hadn’t noticed Munto in the darkness.
This, he realized, was the spot where he’d almost died.
“Heh.” He’d almost died several times since then. Wars had a way of doing that.
Movement flickered. He tensed, charging; the air around his fist shimmered.
It was a young man, not quite his height, with dark hair and a careless way of moving. He’d left the sidewalk to cut across the field. “So you’re here.”
Munto let the charge dissipate. He’d never seen this person before… yet he knew who he was. “Kazuya.”
Kazuya nodded. “Suzume said you’d come. I’ve been checking this spot every night.” He beckoned. “Follow me.”
X X X
Suzume and Ichiko were waiting, huddled together in the living room of Kazuya’s house. It’d become a regular meeting place for them in the two weeks Yumemi’d been missing. Ichiko sprang to her feet at the sight of –
“YOU!”
Munto paused. Raised a brow. He knew who she was, too, and even through the filter of Yumemi’s memories, he was pretty sure he knew why she was mad.
“You’re the one who started all this.” The fight seemed to drain out of her. She slumped back to the floor. “It doesn’t matter now,” she sniffed. “Yumemi’s gone.”
Munto’s eyes narrowed. Kazuya shut the door and came up beside him.
“Tell me what happened,” Munto ordered.
Ichiko looked annoyed, but complied.
X X X
“Describe this counselor to me again.”
“I already told you,” Ichiko huffed. “He was a thin old man with a turban. Glasses. A little stooped. That’s all there was to him.”
“He was tall,” Suzume put in. “Taller than you, Munto-san.”
“It’s Lord Munto.”
“What do you mean, he was tall?” Ichiko protested. “He was always hunched over.”
“Not always. I saw him once, when he thought nobody was around.” Suzume giggled. “I’d been sent to see a counselor because two of the senior girls were picking on me –“
“I took care of that,” Kazuya interjected.
“Shh, Kazuya, that’s not the point of the story. Anyways, he didn’t see me when I walked in, because I was so short that the bookshelf hid me, and he was standing up almost straight to look out the window. And he was tall – really tall. He had to bend his head to fit under the ceiling.”
“Anything else.” Suzume’s description had caught Munto’s attention.
“He had really long, slender fingers.” Suzume steepled hers for comparison. “Much longer than mine, but thinner.”
“And nobody knows where he lives?”
Kazuya shook his head. “I checked the address he gave the school. It gets his mail, but he’s not there right now. Obviously – it’s the first place the cops looked.”
A timid rapping on the door. Suzume skipped to open it.
“Takashi-kun!”
A small boy tumbled in, gasping for breath. He must have been running. He leaned on his knees for a bit, then caught sight of Munto. He straightened and stared.
“Tobe.” Kazuya was amused. “What you running for?”
“H-here.” Takashi Tobe held out a disc to Kazuya. “The trace you asked for.”
“Thanks, kid.” Kazuya took the disk to his computer, a moderate setup dominating a walnut-paneled desk. Multiple windows popped up.
“Is this your girlie-file stash?” Ichiko needled.
“I-Ichiko!” Takashi was shocked.
“There’s only one girl I want to see naked,” Kazuya retorted. He winked at Suzume.
“In a few years, Kazuya.”
“I know.”
Takashi blushed.
“So.” Kazuya waved at the screen, then paused. “Can you read this?”
“Only some of it,” Munto admitted. Their written languages had evidently parted ways a long time ago. Even the words he could read didn’t make much sense.
“Ah. Well, basically it’s a list of people who called our Counselor Ito in the last six months or so. He had more than one phone – most of these came in on the numbers he didn’t give the school.” Kazuya moused over another list. “And this is a list of courier deliveries to his home. If we comb through these, maybe…”
Ichiko gasped. She’d known that Takashi was good with computers, but… “You hacked into his cell phone records?”
“It took a few days,” Kazuya said blandly.
Munto clenched his fists. He saw where Kazuya was heading with this, and it made sense, but it didn’t leave him much to do in the meantime.
“It’s a long list,” Takashi said wearily. “It’ll take time to sort it all out.”
Kazuya checked the time; close to midnight. “And we’re all bushed. Takashi, you have school tomorrow…”
“I-I’ll skip,” Takashi wavered.
Kazuya raised a brow. “You sure? I do it all the time, but you’re one of the good kids.”
“Yes.” Takashi squared his shoulders. “Hidaka is more important. This is the first breakthrough we’ve had…”
“The grownups will stomp us if they find out what we’re up to.” Kazuya saved the lists carefully and shut his computer down.
“Like they’ve been able to do anything,” Ichiko hissed.
“It does seem strange,” Suzume quavered.
The room fell silent as they looked at each other and thought what nobody dared say. So many missing children were never found.
“She’s alive,” Munto said roughly.
Four gazes fixed on him, their expressions ranging from Takashi’s bewilderment to Ichiko’s anger. Kazuya looked neutral, but he was listening.
“If she were dead, I would know it.”
He turned away to rest a hand on the wall behind him. It was true that he couldn’t feel her anywhere; still, she wasn’t gone. It was more like…
He took a deep breath. “I think she’s asleep.”
The four exchanged looks. Cautiously, they gathered behind him, drawing closer to the strange hope he was inspiring.
“Then let’s get a good night’s sleep and meet here tomorrow,” Kazuya suggested. “We’ll go through the lists and check them against the phone book and a city map. Ah… Munto, you’re welcome to crash here, if you like. It’s just me and the cats – my governess is off visiting family.”
Munto accepted. It seemed the best course of action at the moment. The three younger students waved good night and left; he could hear them discussing their plans for playing hooky until the door shut behind them.
When Kazuya returned from rummaging through an obscure closet, extra bedding trailing behind him, Munto was gone. His cloak, laid neatly across a chair, indicated that he’d be back. Kazuya shrugged and spread the futon and blankets on the living room floor, then made sure the door was unlocked and went to bed.
When Kazuya staggered out of bed at first light, his visitor was nowhere to be seen. But the bedding in the living room was neatly folded, and the cloak now rested on them. Kazuya considered that justification enough to make breakfast for two.
He poked his head outside to get the newspaper and feed the cats. When they didn’t come, he called again.
Munto dropped down from the roof, one cat in his arms. The other followed him down, leaping from shingles to porch overhang to railing to ground.
“There you are.” Kazuya set the cat food down. It wasn’t clear whether he was talking to the Magical King or the pets. “I have breakfast cooking inside, and I found some clothes that might fit, if you’d like to shower and change.”
Munto nodded. It wasn’t the land of death anymore, but there wasn’t as much Akuto here as there was in the skies. He could use the food. Clean clothes sounded good too.
“They’re my uncle’s,” Kazuya commented as he pointed his guest to the bathroom and handed him the clothes. “He forgot his suitcase here last time he visited. He’s… almost as tall as you are. Comes of being half foreign.”
The food was strange -- something called kushiyaki -- but it tasted good. He didn’t complain. By the time Kazuya cleared the dishes away, Suzume was bounding through the door.
“Good morning! Kazuya, you didn’t lock the door.”
“I was up.” He caught her in a brief hug and mussed her hair.
“So you’re still here.” Ichiko and Takashi trailed Suzume in. Ichiko had a large roll of paper under her arm, and Takashi was lugging several phone books.
“Takashi.” Kazuya hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and grinned. “You ditched.”
Takashi blushed. “I said I would.”
“So you did. I’m a bad influence. Have you all eaten?”
They nodded. Kazuya cracked his knuckles.
“Then let’s get to work.”
X X X
Munto watched as they started pushing furniture against the wall. When Suzume grabbed a coffee table three times her size, he stepped in.
“Oh! Thank you, Munto-san,” she panted. “Here, let’s put it under that window.”
She reached to move a tall flower vase out of the way and knocked it over instead. Munto caught it before it hit the ground.
“Don’t tell Ichiko!” she whispered. “She’ll scold me.”
He cracked a smile.
Ichiko had spread her map – that had been the large roll of paper – across the floor and was ordering Takashi around as he tried to lay out his phone books in some way that would please her. “Takamori, are the lists ready yet?”
“Printing,” Kazuya said evenly, hands dancing over his keyboard.
It took a while for them to sort themselves out. Eventually it was Ichiko who called out names from the list while Takashi alternated between the phone books and his Palm Pilot to find addresses and then tack them on the map. Kazuya stayed at his computer, cross-referencing.
“Oooh. There’s a lot of places,” Suzume said in dismay, as the day wore on and the tack clusters multiplied and spread. She’d been banned from helping with the tacks after poking herself with three in a row.
“I don’t think we can finish this today,” Ichiko admitted.
Suzume flopped back on the carpet. “I’m starving!” she said plaintively.
“I can cook,” Ichiko ventured half-heartedly.
Munto didn’t like that idea.
Neither did Kazuya, who did a quick calculation of how much it would take to feed five people before glancing at his under-stocked pantry. “Let’s eat out.”
“Yay!” Suzume jumped to her feet so fast that she almost sprawled across the map. Takashi squawked in horror as six hours of collective work seemed doomed.
Munto dove. He was setting the girl down next to Kazuya, halfway across the room, before anyone quite realized what had happened.
Takashi and Ichiko stared. Suzume just giggled. “Sorry, Takashi! Boy, that was close. Thanks, Munto-san.”
“It’s Lord Munto.”
“I want ramen!” She yanked on Kazuya’s sleeve.
“Come on, then.” Kazuya reached for his jacket. It was a good thing Munto was in street clothes. Even with some of his hair tamed over his ears, the skydweller stood out like a neon sign. “I’ll treat you all.”
X X X
The group was barely out the door before a three-way argument broke out. Ichiko wanted to grab takeout donburi and get back to work, Suzume had already put in for ramen, and Takashi thought it would be better to sit down to a real restaurant meal.
“I’m paying,” Kazuya retorted, and that settled it. The other students accepted that with no apparent ill-will and were soon arguing among themselves about bus fare instead. Takashi, predictably, had the right amount; Ichiko had enough and to spare but only in larger bills. She and Suzume traded change until they were both good to go.
Kazuya took care of fare for himself and Munto, who had to duck his head for the bus ceiling. They found a couple of empty seats for the girls; the boys settled for poles. Munto’s appearance netted him a few stares, but one glare from the Magical King was enough to make the other passengers find something interesting outside the window instead.
Munto didn’t like owing Kazuya anything, but he didn’t have any of this land’s currency. Hesitantly, he slipped off his ring.
“Are you kidding?” Kazuya glanced around and lowered his voice. “That’s fare for a year. You saved the map from my girlfriend, okay? This makes us even.”
“I heard that!” Suzume poked Kazuya in the ribs.
Kazuya tried to defend himself without jostling his fellow passengers. “Tough love, Suzume.”
Munto, already feeling claustrophobic, clenched his jaw. They might be used to packing closer than weeds into hot metal boxes, but he wasn’t. He felt like he’d just been dumped with four younger siblings.
Fortunately, their stop wasn’t far. They escaped the crowded bus into an intersection almost as packed with pedestrians, all scurrying to get lunch before they had to go back to work. Kazuya evaluated the area and then headed for a ramen shop, Suzume in tow.
Predictably, it was swarming. Kazuya pushed up to the counter and placed orders, and Ichiko pounced on a table as another group vacated. Munto tried to stay out of the way as she and Takashi hastily wiped up with napkins. There were a few foreigners in the lunch rush crowd, and Munto didn’t stand out quite as much.
Relatively speaking, of course. He was still the tallest person in the room, and thus the first to spot a waitress battling her way through the crowd to their table.
“Thanks for waiting,” she panted. “Please enjoy your meal!”
Kazuya took the steaming bowls and slid them out to everyone. Munto eyed the chopsticks uncertainly, but Kazuya had thought to get him a fork.
“What, Kazuya – you didn’t get him fugu?”
“They don’t even serve that here.”
“Ichiko.” Takashi sounded weary. “Eat your ramen, please.”
She growled but obeyed. Munto had a feeling Takashi would be moving a lot of phone books in the near future.
But the hot food cheered everyone up. By the time they had seconds and emptied their drinks, the lunch crowd had thinned down enough to make conversation viable.
“It’s good that we got so much data.” Ichiko rubbed her temples. “Now the problem is making sense of it all.”
“Mmm.” Suzume was playing with the salt and pepper shakers. “We can’t give up just because it’s hard work.”
“Did I say anything about giving up?”
Kazuya let them talk for a while, then checked his watch and stood up. The others followed his lead.
They bumped into a group of bikers outside. That wasn’t unusual; there were plenty of motorbikes on the street, and people were bumping each other all the time down here, it seemed. But one of the bikers took a second look and called his friends.
“Hey, if it isn’t Kazuya.”
The students tensed as the bikers gathered round. Kazuya pushed Suzume behind him, into Ichiko’s capable hands. Munto, who’d been trailing at the rear of the group, shouldered to the front.
“We haven’t seen you lately, Takamori.”
Kazuya slid his hands in his pockets indifferently. “I’ve been busy.”
“Like, for a year or two…”
“I told your boss. I’m not coming back.”
“You know the gang doesn’t like it when members drop out.” The spokesman was a short, skinny man with unkempt whiskers. He wore scuffed leathers and a chain around his neck, which he kept fingering it as he spoke.
“That’s tough.”
“Bad things might happen, you know?” The skinny man slid a glance at Suzume.
Munto had heard enough. He flicked two fingers.
“Ow!” Chain Man jumped, swore, and yanked at his necklace. “What the hell --?”
His buddies stepped back in alarm. “What’s the matter, man?”
“Hot – it’s hot as –“
The students left him bouncing around like a jumping bean while his biker buddies shouted suggestions and got cussed out for their trouble.
“Is he high on something?” Ichiko craned her neck to keep an eye on the show.
Kazuya looked at Munto from the corner of his eye. “I’m sure you don’t know anything about that.”
Munto studied the power lines. It was really strange, the way they crisscrossed everywhere. As though an absent-minded spider had tried to spin a web but couldn’t decide where to stop or start.
“Munto.”
Kazuya was holding up his hand, palm out. Munto had never seen the gesture before, but he recognized it. He hesitated, then half smiled and returned the high-five.
“Friends of yours?” He tipped his head the way they’d come from.
Kazuya shrugged. “Once. Sort of.” He reached back for Suzume, who grabbed his hand. “Until I met this cutie.”
“I fell in the river,” Suzume supplied. “Kazuya rescued me.”
Kazuya’s expression suggested there was more to the story than that, but Munto didn’t pry. He already knew some of the details.
“Maybe the bus back won’t be so crowded,” Takashi said hopefully.
It was.
X X X
They kept weeding through the lists until dark. Suzume, with nothing better to do, dug a hiragana primer out of a shelf somewhere and commandeered Munto’s attention. She was delighted when he proved a quick study; his writing was neat and graceful.
Kazuya called a halt when Takashi started tacking his own fingers and even Ichiko was fumbling her words. “Let’s rest up and start again early in the morning.”
The others were quick to agree. Kazuya saw them off to the end of the street.
When he got back, Munto was gone. The jacket he’d been wearing was perched on his rolled-up futon, which seemed to be his way of saying he’d be back.
Kazuya shrugged and set out a fresh change of clothes for his guest, plus a plate of rice balls on the kitchen table. Then he hit the shower and went to bed.
When he woke up, the rice balls were gone and the plate was in the sink; either Munto had spotted them on his own, or Suzume’s trouble had paid off and he’d had no problem reading the note Kazuya had left with the clothes.
It was barely light when Takashi rapped on the door. Kazuya let him in.
“Where are the girls?”
Whatever Takashi was going to say was cut short by an indignant howl from up the street. Kazuya recognized it as Ichiko’s.
“You moron, she’s not used to that! You’ll scare her to death!”
Munto touched down in the yard, Suzume under one arm like the featherweight she was. She was laughing herself silly.
“She wanted to know what it was like,” Munto said blandly.
“Suzume! Are you all right?” Ichiko rushed across the grass.
Suzume took a few dizzy steps forward, twirled, and fell on her butt. “I wanna do that again!” she giggled.
Ichiko’s expression was priceless. Kazuya laughed. “Are you guys in trouble for ditching?”
“No.” Takashi pulled off his backpack; the straps were making his shoulders ache. Ichiko, predictably, had loaded him up beyond reason. “Some parents pulled their kids from the school because a kidnapper managed to get on the staff. Others are keeping their children home for the time being. The school doesn’t want to squawk; they’re afraid of losing more students. And our parents think it’s good that we’re sticking together after what happened.”
“That’s right,” Kazuya observed. “Group solidarity is very important when defying authority.”
Takashi mustered a tired grin. “You know what I mean.”
Kazuya whipped up pancakes for three – Suzume hadn’t eaten yet, either – and then the group settled down to work.
The second day of list-combing was not unlike the first. Suzume, finding that Munto remembered everything from the day before, started introducing kanji, with many appeals to Kazuya’s steadier hand. Ichiko and Takashi kept dogging the lists. Some portions of the map now resembled flattened hedgehogs.
It was Kazuya who suggested a lunch break this time, not wanting to deal with a hungry, cranky group on the crowded bus. After a good-natured argument, the students settled on a restaurant so everyone could order what they wanted. Kazuya footed the bill again but accepted donations from Ichiko and Takashi. Munto, again, felt uncomfortable at being treated.
“Get Yumemi back.” Kazuya must have guessed what he was thinking. “That’s something my money can’t buy.”
“Yes, Munto-san.” Suzume’s ponytails bounced as she nodded vigorous agreement. “Only you can help her.”
Ichiko bit her lip.
“I will,” Munto promised.
He passed up Ichiko’s suggestion of something called natto in favor of Suzume’s recommendation, kukonomi salad.
“Kazuya.”
Kazuya looked up from his burger. “Hm?”
“What is it you’re researching on your computer? It’s not what the others are looking at.”
A trace of surprise crossed Kazuya’s face. “News articles.”
“And?” Munto prodded.
Kazuya slid a look at the other students. Ichiko was busy complaining about the flavor of her fried smelt and Takashi was trying to placate her. Suzume was playing with her soda bubbles.
“Technology news,” Kazuya said quietly. “Some of the companies we’re looking up have been making rapid advances in their respective fields. Most, just recently; others for the last year or two.”
“Any having to do with catalysts?”
More surprise. “Most of them, actually. How’d you know?”
Munto’s mouth tightened. “Akuto is especially good for that.”
“Ah.” Kazuya considered that. “Anything else I should look for?”
“Help me read these news articles,” Munto offered, “and I’ll tell you.”
Kazuya smiled slightly. “Deal.”
X X X
It was strange, Munto thought, being treated like this.
Kazuya was walking him through the most relevant of the articles he’d found. Suzume had decided to be helpful and wash the breakfast dishes. She’d already dropped a glass and then cut herself cleaning it up. Ichiko was alternately reading from a list and then grabbing phone books away from Takashi when he didn’t find a company fast enough.
It was true that they were counting on his help now. But if he hadn’t come, they would still be doing pretty much what they were doing; looking for their friend. His arrival hadn’t really changed anything. Here, he was just another friend of Yumemi’s.
It was strange, but not unpleasant. It was true that his manners were getting a workout, but he didn’t mind that either. Kazuya was easy to get along with, despite his reputation at school. Suzume and Takashi had accepted him immediately. And Ichiko’s needling was beneath notice. Almost.
They were drawing comfort from each other, he realized, listening to the rise and fall of voices. In spite of what had happened, they weren’t alone.
“Kazuya,” he said abruptly.
“Yeah?”
“Your mother and father. Are they alive?”
Kazuya stopped typing. “Technically, yes. Realistically, I never see them. It’s always been that way.” He smiled crookedly. “Kind of sucks, but oh well.”
Munto considered that. It seemed inconceivable that parents wouldn’t want to be with their child, and yet…
“How about yours?”
Munto looked away. “They’re gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Munto pointed to an article picture. “Who’s this?”
Kazuya zoomed in on the caption. “It says he’s the CEO of Fujiyama Chemical.”
“Not him.” Munto tapped on a man almost obscured in the background. “Him.”
“Oh. It just says ‘and advisors.’”
“Ah.”
They worked until late in the evening. When the three youngest left, Takashi almost staggered out the door.
“You should sleep here, Tobe,” Kazuya said. “I’ve got blankets.”
“I can’t,” Takashi said, though he was tempted. “Mom worries.”
“Ah.” Kazuya smiled crookedly and glanced at Munto. “Lucky stiff.”
X X X
Once again, Munto disappeared sometime between dinner and nightfall. Kazuya wasn’t sure if he was out all night or just for a couple of hours, but in the morning the futon was rolled up as usual, so it must have been used. Munto was always hungry when he reappeared. Given the articles they’d been going over together, Kazuya had an idea of what he was up to, but didn’t pry.
Suzume brought breakfast with her this time, a box bulging with sushi rolls and takoyaki. Ichiko had already eaten, but the boys accepted Suzume’s offer to share.
They ran out of tacks at ten o’clock. Kazuya found more in his walnut desk, though they were a different color.
“Let’s go out a little earlier today,” Takashi suggested not long afterwards. “Beat the lunch rush.”
The merits of this suggestion were not lost on the others. To make up for having settled it so quickly, they argued longer than usual about what to get, carrying on until they were actually on the bus.
“We’ll get ramen again,” Kazuya said finally, and that was that.
They got off the bus about the same time that one of the more loaded stoplights in the intersection turned green. A barrage of traffic roared through, just as a small boy darted into the street in pursuit of a wayward ball.
“Oh!” Suzume gasped in dismay, then blinked. The boy was gone. She wasn’t sure if she’d lost sight of him between the cars, or if –
“Chikara! Chikara!” A slender woman was running towards the group, calling frantically. And there was Munto in the middle of the students, staring at the boy he’d just set on the sidewalk.
“Chikara,” he repeated.
“Oh! I can’t thank you enough!” the woman panted. Her husband was puffing along some distance behind her, not being as fleet of foot.
“Chikara, you rascal! You frightened us to death.” The man grabbed the boy up and bearhugged him. “We can buy another ball, but we can’t buy another you!”
“I’m sorry,” Chikara managed, his voice muffled against his dad’s coat. “I wasn’t thinking –“
“Now, now, don’t scold him. All’s well that ends well.” The woman turned to thank Munto again and blinked. “Why, Suzume-chan! And Ichiko. You’re all here.”
“Chikara’s not in school?” Suzume queried.
“It makes my wife anxious to have him out of sight,” the man said. “And I had a day off, so I thought it would be good for us all to be out of the house for a bit.” His shoulders drooped. “After what happened…”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hidaka, this is Munto,” Kazuya said, by way of introduction.
Mrs. Hidaka bowed, gratitude overwhelming any reservations she might have otherwise had about the strange-looking man with her daughter’s friends. “Thank you so much for rescuing my son.”
“Let me buy you all lunch,” Mr. Hidaka said, and would not be dissuaded once he’d made the offer. “We need the company.”
The students put up enough resistance to be polite before allowing themselves to be dragged into a nearby restaurant. In the shuffle of getting tables, Munto managed to grab a seat next to Yumemi’s parents.
“So, Munto-san, are you fond of miso soup?” Mrs. Hidaka asked, as they waited for the food to come.
“I’ve never had it before,” he admitted. “Kazuya said it was good.”
“Then you’re not from the islands.” Chikara had produced a small plastic sword from somewhere in his pockets and was shredding his napkin with it. Mr. Hidaka gently pried the sword out of his son’s fingers. “Are you visiting the country on business?”
Munto considered that. “Yes.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Hidaka swept the bits of napkin into her palm with a deftness that suggested much practice. “What line of work are you in?”
Munto was starting to sweat. He didn’t want to lie, but truthful answers could prove awkward. Yumemi had evidently not told them about him, and for obvious reasons. “I’m looking for someone, actually.”
“Are you a bounty hunter?” Chikara shouted. Half the restaurant turned to look.
Mr. and Mrs. Hidaka looked flustered, all the more because Munto’s wild appearance made the question plausible. “Chikara, don’t be silly. Please forgive our son, Munto-san…”
Munto was hiding a chuckle. “It’s fine. He’s half right.”
Husband and wife looked at each other uncertainly.
“Um… I work in accounting,” Mr. Hidaka said finally.
X X X
They got through the meal somehow or other, not certain what to make of each other but parting on friendly terms. The group split up outside the restaurant, but not before Chikara pounded on Munto’s leg to get his attention.
“You have cool ears.”
Munto froze. He’d pulled some hair over his ears today, as usual, but that didn’t stop the wind. Of course. Chikara must be quick to have noticed that in under a second, but…
“I won’t tell anyone,” Chikara stage whispered, and turned to run after his parents.
“Chikara.”
The boy paused, plastic sword clutched in one hand and a sad-looking fortune cookie in the other. “Hm?”
Munto knelt to put himself at eye level. “I’ll find your sister. I promise.”
Chikara’s eyes widened. “So you are a bounty hunter.”
“Ah… not exactly –“
“Thanks, big brother!” Chikara grinned from ear to ear and tore after Mr. and Mrs. Hidaka.
“Hey.” Kazuya tapped him on the shoulder. “You didn’t eat your soup.”
“Shut up,” he said testily.
The fourth day dawned bright and mild. Takashi trudged in the door hauling a cooler; Ichiko had cooked enough curry rice and fish for lunch for everyone.
“For a change of pace,” she said, though Munto suspected she was tired of digging for bus change. “The weather’s nice, so we can eat outside.”
The cats thought it was a wonderful idea, and had to be banished to the garage while everyone else ate in the back yard. It had once been a beautifully landscaped garden, but was rather overgrown now. Kazuya had no interest in plants. He found a picnic table in the garage and dragged it out onto the patio. After a good stiff dusting, Ichiko deemed it fit to hold food.
Munto watched carefully as Ichiko laid out dishes and served everyone.
“Thanks for the food!” Suzume split her chopsticks and attacked the rice.
“Munto.” Kazuya inclined his head at Munto’s plate. “You’re not eating?”
Munto met his gaze but didn’t say anything. Beside him, Takashi started coughing.
“I-Ichiko! What is this? It tastes terrible?”
“Wha--?” Ichiko rushed over and thumped him on the back.
“Hot,” Takashi managed between whacks. “Too much hot sauce.”
“That’s impossible! Unless he sw—“ Ichiko broke off and glared at Munto.
Munto slid his plate over to Takashi. “Try this one. I haven’t touched it.”
Ichiko sputtered, but couldn’t say anything. Kazuya raised his brows at her and went inside. He came back with a bowl of sliced peaches for Munto and a glass of water for Takashi.
The minute lunch was over, Suzume bounded to the garage door to release the yowling cats. They streaked out and jumped on the picnic table, helping themselves to the leftovers. Takashi’s first plate they ignored after a tentative sniff.
“Uh oh. Kazuya…” Suzume pointed into the garage.
Kazuya leaned over her shoulder, inspecting the mess. “Great. They shredded a bag of cat food.”
X X X
It wasn’t long after lunch that Ichiko, tired of list-reading, demanded to know why Munto was hanging over Kazuya’s shoulder while Suzume played outside with the cats instead of tutoring him. (She had wanted to bring the cats in, but Ichiko had objected to endangering the tacks and Kazuya was still sore about the cat food.)
Explaining took a while. In the end, Takashi summarized it best. “In other words, it’s likely that some of these companies now have access to concentrated Akuto?”
“Not likely. They do.”
Ichiko bristled. “How can you be so sure?”
Munto gave her a deadpan look and went into the kitchen. He came back with a box of crackers.
“I asked how you knew, not what’s for dinner.”
He ignored her, looking at Kazuya questioningly; Kazuya nodded that it was okay to open the box.
Takashi inhaled sharply as Munto laid a few crackers out on top of the tacks. “Those companies?”
Munto pointed to five of the largest tack clusters, now crowned with crackers. “These places have high concentrations of Akuto. It’s not normal.”
The students exchanged glances. “Yumemi mentioned Akuto a few times,” Takashi said slowly. “It’s the energy your world runs on, right?”
Close enough. Munto nodded assent.
Takashi adjusted his glasses, assessing the map with new eyes. “And these companies have somehow acquired large quantities of it? They shouldn’t even know about it. How is that possible?”
Munto’s lips compressed. “Yumemi.”
“How can you be sure?” Ichiko swept her finger in a circle, taking in the scope of the map. “That’s a big area.”
He shot her a look that said he wasn’t accustomed to being questioned. “It’s easy to tell from the air.”
“So that’s where you’ve been,” Kazuya murmured.
The door banged and Suzume wandered in, a cat in her arms.
“Out,” Ichiko hissed. “Out with the cat.”
“Aww.” But Suzume complied, then came over to lean against Kazuya.
“There’s one more thing we should be worried about.” Takashi pointed to the lists, then a series of stars he’d scrawled on the map. “There are half a dozen calls from high-ranking police officers.”
“Is that a surprise?” Ichiko asked. “He’s a kidnapping suspect, after all.”
“No.” Kazuya had appropriated the lists and was inspecting them with interest. “These are all dated from before the disappearance.”
Another silence as that sank in. “Someone may not want Yumemi found,” Takashi said at last.
“Someone in a position to misdirect the search,” Kazuya agreed. “And if they’re being bribed by somebody who’s benefitting from this new kind of energy…”
Munto stirred, one of the articles Kazuya had shown him clicking with a location on the map. “Which one is Fujiyama Chemical?”
Takashi pointed to a cluster centered between the five “hot” clusters. “This one.”
“Yes,” Munto murmured. “There’s no Akuto there.”
“Then…” Suzume brushed some cat fuzz off her shirt. “Then they had nothing to do with the kidnapping?”
“No Akuto,” Munto clarified. He went to the living room window and pushed the curtain aside, staring out at the sky. It was almost evening now. The shadows were lengthening into dusk. “Not even an ambient level. That’s impossible -- unless the facility is shielded so that a heavenly being won’t sense anything inside.”
“The other facilities aren’t shielded,” Takashi murmured. “Why bother shielding this one?”
Munto turned, and the room suddenly seemed darker. Ichiko felt her hair stand on end. His expression was so calm as to be frightening.
“Because they’re hiding the source of Akuto there.”
“F-Fujiyama Chemical. That’s halfway across the city,” Takashi stammered. “How could Mr. Ito have taken her all the way there without anyone noticing?”
“Yumemi’s not very heavy,” Munto said.
Ichiko glared.
He ignored her. “Gunther’s much stronger than he looks. You said he was always bent over… if he had a long coat, he could have hidden her under it. Just from the office to one of those… those…”
“Cars,” Kazuya supplied.
Munto nodded. “A car.”
“Gunther--?”
“Your Mr. Ito.”
“He did always wear a long coat,” Takashi mused. “Even when it wasn’t snowing.”
Munto had heard enough. “I’m going to this Fujiyama Chemical.”
It was Kazuya who processed that first. “It’d be better to go at night,” he said. “You’ll have a better chance at getting in undetected.”
That didn’t sit well. Every hour he delayed, she…
But if they saw him coming, they might move or harm her. Kazuya was right.
“Tonight, then.”
Kazuya nodded.
“You have no idea how useful you’re being, my dear.”
She tried to speak, but her body ignored her. It was cold – so cold and dark.
“Ah, pure Akuto can do wonderful things! You’re certainly worth all the trouble you caused me.”
She knew that voice.
“So, you remember me, do you? I’m flattered.”
Remembered? Of course she remembered. She’d defied him in front of the whole world, and now she was paying for it.
But she wasn’t sorry. Not one bit.
“Don’t bother resisting.” The omnipresent drain on her spirit intensified, sparking panic through her being. “You may still be a fool, but you work for me now. Don’t forget that.”
X X X
It seemed a very long time until nightfall. Kazuya took Suzume with him to run errands – what they were, he wouldn’t say – leaving Munto alone with Takashi and Ichiko. Takashi took over the computer and spent a good deal of time on it, muttering to himself and consulting his Palm Pilot often. He had fully recovered from the hot sauce. Ichiko glowered at the tack clusters and paced the room.
“So you’re the reason Yumemi wouldn’t take a boyfriend,” she said abruptly.
Munto raised his eyes from the map.
“Ah, that’s right!” Takashi smiled shyly. He hadn’t found the courage to talk to Munto directly, but he did like the stranger. “She got asked a lot, since she’s pretty, but she always said no.”
“I thought she would get tired of waiting, eventually,” Ichiko said. She sighed, grabbed a magazine off the coffee table, and plopped on the sofa. “But she didn’t.”
“Then, she’ll be happy to see you,” Takashi put in.
Munto half smiled at him and went outside to find the cats. He wanted to be alone with his feelings for a bit.
X X X
"Reports for this week are in, sir."
He didn't look up from his desk. "Leave them."
"Very good, sir."
There was a rustle of paper as the soldier laid a sheaf of paper on the desk, then the soft scuff of boots on linoleum as he withdrew. Gunther waited until the sound of his footsteps was cut off by the door before reaching for the papers.
Incredible. Truly incredible. More than a year of seeding local industries and tech with Akuto -- and within days of acquiring the source herself, they'd made it all back manyfold. All it had cost him was the trouble of a few underworld identities, one of which he'd since discarded.
He shook his head. He would never understand Munto. With that girl in his palm, the Magical King could have restored the empire -- could have ruled the skies with an iron hand. And yet, he had let her go. Had, by most reports, taken her back himself.
At least the Elders had been willing to turn a blind eye. After Munto's latest display of Akuto-fueled power, they were no longer willing to oppose him openly, and had grudgingly accepted his terms for peace. Munto had forgotten nothing of the past, but his requirements were fair.
Except for one thing: the Alliance was to have absolutely no access to her.
Her name was irrelevant to Gunther. She was the source of endless power, and he would not be denied that. Especially not by the illegal child of the late Magical King and Queen, dreamers who'd traded their lives for a baby no one outside their kingdom wanted. Certainly not when Munto had been foolish enough to let the girl-child run free.
He finished reviewing the reports and filed them away before leaving the office, ducking to clear the doorway. Utilizing a prebuilt facility had its drawbacks, but even on the inside, these buildings looked much like their counterparts around the city. Odds were the Magical King wouldn't notice from the sky, regardless, but there was no sense tempting fate. If Munto hadn't the sense to recreate the empire, Gunther would do it for him. Soon they would have enough Akuto to defy the gods themselves.
Gunther had once accused Yumemi of being in love with Munto. It had never occurred to him that Munto might be in love with her.
X X X
It was almost dark by the time Kazuya pulled his motorbike into the driveway. Suzume spotted Munto up on the roof and waved.
“There you are, Munto-san!” She tugged off her helmet as she clambered down from the bike. Her ankles tangled and she would have kissed concrete had Kazuya not caught her by the elbow.
“Suzume. Watch your step.”
“Ah, thanks, Kazuya.” She laughed at herself. “My legs are all wobbly from riding!”
She looked completely different in leathers. Now she was waving a bundle of filmy plastic with familiar-looking colors inside. “We got your clothes cleaned!”
Munto, puzzled, came down to investigate.
“I wasn’t sure they’d agree with the washer, so I got them dry-cleaned.” Kazuya unlatched his helmet and pulled it free. “Heh. They thought I was a cosplayer.”
“And we got the blueprints to Fujiyama Chemical.” Suzume held up a CD jewel case.
Kazuya nodded. “I’ll put them on the Palm Pilot so you can take them with you.”
X X X
Night fell as Kazuya and Takashi fussed over the computer. It wasn’t long before the group gathered to see their two oldest off.
Kazuya fastened his helmet, swung a leg across his motorcycle, and offered a second helmet to Munto.
Munto regarded the round, shiny thing. It looked suffocating. “No.”
“Look, it’s bad enough that you’re not wearing leathers.” Kazuya’s voice was muffled by his own headgear. “I can’t take you without a helmet.”
“I don’t need one.”
“It’s not that,” Kazuya sighed. “If you don’t wear a helmet, I might get pulled over. If I get pulled over, we get delayed. If we get delayed, this Gunther chap has more time to do whatever he’s planning with –“
Munto snatched the helmet. He fastened it exactly as he had seen Kazuya do, then slid onto the bike behind Kazuya. “Hurry up.”
“I live to serve.” Kazuya gunned the engine.
It was a little bit like flying, Munto admitted to himself. A little bit. He wasn’t wild about the fact that he wasn’t driving, but he had a feeling Kazuya would have objected. He would have preferred to follow from the sky, but it would be harder for Gunther to see an ordinary motorcycle coming.
He kept scanning for her presence, hoping to catch a flicker. A whisper.
Anything.
Hold on, Yumemi. I’m coming.
X X X
They were only halfway there when Munto noticed a ring of motorbikes closing in. There was plenty of other traffic on the road, but these bikes stuck with them. It was impossible to see anything past the helmets, but he suspected that they were Kazuya’s old gang.
He tapped Kazuya on the shoulder. Kazuya jerked a hand, indicating that he’d seen them too. He sped up.
Munto considered as light poles flashed by ever faster. Even if Kazuya could shake them for now, they might catch him on his way back home. And they had threatened Suzume.
Kazuya felt Munto twist, as though he were looking backwards. Then he was gone.
Kazuya fought panic, knowing there was no way the Magical King had simply fallen off. Sure enough, he spotted him halfway up a building on the cross street ahead. His helmet was already off, tucked under one arm. The skydweller was waving him into a side alley.
Kazuya weighed his options and decided that Munto knew what he was doing. Besides, if there was going to be a fight, it was better that it take place away from other people. No sense in helpless bystanders getting hurt.
Munto was beside him the instant Kazuya pulled to a stop in the alley. “Hide the bike.”
X X X
Whatever the bikers expected to see as they pulled in after Kazuya, all they got was a student standing by himself in the middle of the alley.
“Looking for me?” he called.
The gang exchanged glances, shrugged, and got off their bikes, swinging chains. “The boss said you need to remember your obligations…”
They forgot the rest of the speech as a line of fire cut their bikes in half. Literally.
Kazuya grinned as they swore and shoved and tripped in their haste to get away from the burning vehicles. Munto reappeared, unnoticed in the confusion.
“Come on.”
They ran around the corner to retrieve Kazuya’s motorbike from between two dumpsters and dragged it towards the street. Confused yells echoed after them, but most of the gang was still too muddled to give chase. Not that they could have caught up on foot.
One man did stagger around the corner. “Hey, you!”
It was Chain Man. Munto, annoyed at yet another delay, stalked over and decked him. Then he ran back to help Kazuya with the motorbike.
“Munto.”
Munto paused in the middle of strapping his helmet on. Kazuya’s hand was up and out.
“High five.”
Munto, smirking, obliged.
X X X
Ichiko stared at the door. Then at her watch. Then at the clock.
“They should be there by now,” she said hoarsely.
Takashi had gone home. Suzume had tried to get her to lie down on the sofa; not succeeding, she’d stretched out on it herself and gone to sleep. Her snores were both annoying and comforting.
“It’s not fair,” Ichiko whispered. “I’ve known her all her life. I’m the one who grew up with her.”
She wanted to cry, but her body was out of tears. “And now there’s absolutely nothing I can do. I can’t help her.”
Her shoulders slumped. “And he can.”
X X X
Kazuya killed the engine and lights and let the motorcycle coast to a stop in the dark. Fujiyama Chemical was a gated facility. The wrought iron fences looked civilized enough, but spirals of razor wire and a no-nonsense guard booth were clearly intended to keep unwanted visitors out.
Munto was off before the bike stopped. “Wait for me at your house.”
“Wait.” Kazuya dug in his pocket. “Take these.”
Munto inspected the two devices, turning them over a couple times. He recognized at least one of them from earlier. “This is Takashi’s…”
“Yeah, his Palm Pilot.” Kazuya tapped the larger square of plastic to demonstrate. The screen lit up. “Takashi and I copied the CD onto it before we left. These are blueprints for this facility. At least, they’re the plans Fujiyama submitted to City Hall before construction began. I have a friend in real estate, and he was able to… anyways. They may help you get around.”
They would, indeed. Munto scanned the diagrams rapidly, committing them to memory. One area in particular jumped out at him. “What’s this say?”
Kazuya peered at the kanji beneath a room dotted with circular marks. “It says ‘HazMat storage tanks.’ HazMat – Hazardous Material,” he clarified. ”That probably means that only authorized personnel have access.”
And it sounded like an excellent place to keep certain things out of view. Munto held the Palm Pilot out. “That’s helpful.”
Kazuya pressed it back into his palm. “Keep it. And take this too.” He opened the cell phone. “It’s set to vibrate, so it won’t give you away. If you want to talk to me, press this button. It’s on speed dial.”
Munto suffered through a brief demonstration of the Palm Pilot’s controls, then tucked both devices into his vest. “Don’t stay here. If they find you –“
“It might make them suspicious,” Kazuya finished. He booted the bike’s kickstand up. “One more thing – if this really is a chemical plant, I suspect the employees change into their work uniforms after they get here. That means there should be a locker room somewhere near the entrance. A uniform may help you blend in.” He eyed the skydweller’s pointed ears, shock of hair, and exaggerated height, then shook his head. “Well, even if it’s a bad fit -- it’s amazing what people don’t see when they’re not looking for it.”
“Understood.” Munto assessed what he could see of the complex from here, then cleared the fence with a running leap and faded into the night.
Kazuya whistled softly, then started his engine and eased back onto the road. Within moments, he had blended into traffic.
X X X
Kazuya was right; there was a locker room near the entrance. In fact, it had windows looking out on the yard. He used a discreet burn of Akuto to slice through one.
The left side of the room was devoted to racks of petroleum blue coveralls. He saw that they were arranged from smallest to largest and quickly went to the “large” end.
It was a surprisingly good fit. For some reason, that made him uneasy.
There were tool satchels, too. He poked through one, taking a brief inventory of the contents, decided they might be useful, and squeezed his clothes in too. Kazuya’s Palm Pilot and cell phone he tucked into the coveralls. He wanted those on his person.
Just in time. The door knob jiggled, warning him. He plastered himself against the ceiling, avoiding the lights.
Two workers walked in. He stole glances but didn’t let himself stare. Yumemi was especially sensitive, but people in general could often tell when they were being watched.
They pulled off bulky hazmat helmets. He almost fell off the ceiling.
They had long ears. Long legs. Slight build.
Skydwellers. And they moved and sounded like United Army frontline soldiers.
Which meant that these workers weren’t unsuspecting participants. It was highly unlikely that Gunther was mixing ground dwellers in with his forces here; therefore, the rest of the complex was probably peopled with skydwellers also. Munto wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. On the one hand, his ears and height wouldn’t betray him. On the other, every UA soldier knew what the Magical King looked like.
The two men changed and strapped on wristwatches, chatting as they did, and put their hazmat helmets away into special oversize lockers to be cleaned. Then they touched the watches and their long ears disappeared. Munto watched them leave, presumably to residences outside the complex.
It was a cheap parlor trick, with a shabby lining. It wouldn’t take any skydweller long to see through that holographic gimmick. But as Kazuya had said, it was amazing what people didn’t notice when they weren’t looking for it.
He dropped down and helped himself to a hazmat helmet. It stank of sweat and chemicals, but it was his best bet at getting to Yumemi unnoticed.
X X X
He slipped out and joined the trickle of workers in the hallway. His senses were all on high alert, but with Kazuya’s blueprints guiding him he had no trouble looking like he knew where he was going.
Which was a good thing, because he had to keep up that impression for a good fifteen minutes. The complex was huge. On top of that, it was deep. He would have to descend several levels, always aiming for the room with cylindrical markings.
He hadn’t gotten far when the cell phone buzzed. He ducked into a side hall to answer it.
“You there?”
“Yes.” He was glad Kazuya was smart enough not to call him by name. “I’m inside.”
“Good. Listen, I recognized the police lieutenant who’s handling Yumemi’s case – he was just outside the gate as I was leaving. He was going inside.”
“Are you sure?”
Kazuya’s voice was wry. “I’ve, ah, run into him before. Several times, actually.” He cleared his throat. “That’s not important. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, and he came in an unmarked car.”
Munto cocked his head. “He’s not investigating.”
“No. The guards knew him. They waved him in right away.”
In other words, the police officer handling Yumemi’s case was on friendly terms with someone at Fujiyama Chemical. And that someone was probably a certain skydweller.
“So you were right, earlier. Someone doesn’t want her found.” Munto followed that line of thought even further. “When I get her out, they’ll come looking for her.”
They both knew what that meant.
“Yeah,” Kazuya said matter-of-factly. “She’s not safe here anymore.”
“Understood.”
“Good luck.”
He pocketed the phone and kept on. And on. And on. It was so tempting to abandon the ground and fly, but that was one trait he didn’t share with the skydwellers around him. He kept walking.
At long last, at the end of a hall that descended for what seemed like miles, he found it.
The problem was, it was locked. Very locked, with a blinking security pad on top of several deadbolts. The walls to either side of the door were sheathed in metal, and he was pretty sure the interior was too.
He could have sliced his way through without breaking a sweat, but something warned him not to. Instead he circled to the left and then to the right, considering.
There were no other entrances marked on the blueprint. But several smaller rooms opened off of this hall, and they all contained boxes of chemicals. And the labels of those, being Skydweller script, he had no trouble reading.
He rocked back on his heels against the doorjamb of one room, calculating. The stuff they were storing in here was pretty caustic. The doors to these rooms were not locked, but they did open automatically, retracting into the walls with a hiss when he approached and then sliding shut a few seconds after he’d withdrawn. They sealed tightly – probably airtight. It was, after all, a chemical plant.
And any self-respecting chemical plant had sensors to detect dangerous leaks.
For the first time, he was genuinely glad of the stinky hazmat helmet. He found some gloves in the borrowed satchel and used a forked tool (he thought it was called a wrench) to pry up the lid of one of the chemical containers.
Thin, brownish liquid leaked out, dissolving container paint with a hiss.
Well, that should work.
He set the container carefully on its side, right in the doorway, and backed away.
As he’d hoped, the door obediently slid shut, crushing the container against the doorjamb with considerable force. The liquid gushed out even faster, eating into the floor and spreading rapidly into the hallway.
And since the hallway sloped, the puddle ran the way of all liquids; downhill, into that metal-sheathed door. White vapor billowed into the air as the brown stuff chewed steel.
An alarm blared. Munto tucked himself into the darkest corner of the ceiling and waited.
It didn’t take long. A bevy of yellow-suited workers swarmed down the hall, shouting frantically, jabbering into cell phones, and arguing.
“It looks like a container dumped off a cart and blocked a door!”
One man directed the chaos, pointing workers here and there as he bellowed into his phone.
“Yeah, it’s spread pretty far. Yeah. Into the secure room.”
A pause. “I don’t know if it breached the seals yet. We’ll have to open it to check.”
He listened, rolled his eyes, and switched the phone to the other ear. “Well then, get somebody down here to authorize it! There’s no telling what it might be eating inside.”
He closed the phone with a snap. “All right, do what you can. Security’ll be along to check the lockup.”
Munto smiled ferally.
X X X
Security was one man in a dark blue outfit. His coverall and helmet were similar to those worn by the workers around him, but the way he moved made it clear that he was several levels above them in the hierarchy.
He waited until the yellow workers had cleaned up the worst of the mess before ordering them out. When they were gone, his fingers danced across the security panel. It scanned his palm and checked his voice. Then he produced a heavy ring of keys and opened the deadbolts.
The door swung heavily inward, and the man in dark blue stepped inside.
Munto, soundless, was right behind him.
He hit the ceiling again before the man turned around and shut the door, plunging the room into darkness.
The man did not turn on any lights but used a flashlight from one of his pockets, scanning the concrete floor carefully. The fluid had permeated the seal, but it hadn’t spread more than a few inches into the room itself. This ascertained, the man set the flashlight to one side and scrubbed the scarred surface carefully, then set everything he’d used inside a thick yellow cylinder labeled HAZMAT.
Then he left, locking the door behind him. And Munto was alone.
He dropped to the floor. With the door shut and the flashlight gone, he could see that the room wasn’t completely dark. Nor was it much of a room; more like an antechamber. Several displays glowed on the walls, dimmed in sleep mode.
He touched one and it lit up. It showed an ascending graph, along with schematics of a cylindrical object with wires trailing from the top. Another displayed line drawings of strange, scaley creatures superimposed over a similar graph. The next showed the position of the secure room in relation to the rest of the chemical plant. It agreed with the blueprints in that he was several levels belowground. But it also showed an exit at the back of the HazMat storage area, one not marked on the building plans.
The other displays showed security camera views of the hallway outside. He wondered how long it would take them to pull the tapes and realize that that chemical container had not, in fact, fallen off a cart.
The door on the other side of the antechamber was a sliding one, and it wasn’t locked. It opened at his approach.
X X X
It was a scene straight out of his vision. Tubes ran from the ceiling to transparent cylinders ranged across a dark, cavernous room. Most of the cylinders were empty, but one glowed faintly, and the tubes snaking from its top were radiant with Akuto.
Inside that cylinder floated Yumemi.
Her eyes were closed as though in sleep, but her brow was knit in pain. Her hair fanned around her shoulders, moving with a slow current and a lazy upward torrent of bubbles.
Reflections of the dim lights curved crazily across the glass surface and the myriad bubbles, obscuring much, but it was definitely her. He averted his eyes upon realizing that she was naked.
Someone was going to pay for this.
He braced himself; this wasn’t something he could do with his eyes shut. “Forgive me, Yumemi.”
He launched himself into the air. Two clean, angled slices later, the top of the cylinder slid off and shattered on the floor, snapping tubes left and right. He dipped her carefully out of the fluid, avoiding the cut edges, and covered her with his cloak.
“Come on, Yumemi.” He laid her across his knees and smoothed a wet lock out of her face, then laid two fingers on her throat. Her pulse was faint, and if she was breathing he couldn’t feel it.
“Wake up.” He took a deep breath and shared it with her, then rested his brow against her cold forehead. “Please.”
Incredibly, he felt Akuto diffusing into his body – pure, sweet, living Akuto.
She was alive. Somewhere inside that small body, she still dreamed.
He gave her more breath. She stirred, then coughed spasmodically. He held her as she vomited liquid, then gently wiped her face with his sleeve.
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Munto,” she said faintly.
“Yumemi.” He gathered her up and squeezed as hard as he dared, relief overwhelming anxiety. “I’m here.”
“Oh, Munto.” Her arms slipped around his neck. “You came back! I waited so long…”
They stayed like that a little longer, just holding each other. Liquid soaked into his clothes. He didn’t care. The long, painful months of separation vanished like frost beneath a summer sun.
She hadn’t changed.
“Um… Munto?”
“Hm?”
Only the carefully neutral tone of her voice kept her next words from being an accusation. “Where are my clothes?”
X X X
"Okay. You can look now."
He turned around. The uniform was much baggier on her than it’d been on him, and the boots so hopelessly outsized that she hadn't bothered to put them on. Her hair was slowly drying into locks stiff with the viscous holding fluid. Her face was pinched as though from lack of sleep, and no wonder; suspended animation was anything but restful. He chuckled.
"I don't know why you woke me up if you're just going to laugh at me," she growled. "At least you get to wear your own clothes."
He slid a hand under the tangled mess at the nape of her neck and pulled her close against his chest. She smelled like chemicals. "You look wonderful."
"Liar." Her voice was muffled, but even so it lacked conviction.
He cuddled her as long as her dared, then took her hand and led off for the other side of the room. Despite the fact that few people were allowed into the secure room, Munto was sure that it was checked often. Even if the interruption in Gunther’s Akuto supply didn’t trigger an alarm, it wouldn’t be long until someone noticed that Yumemi’s tube was a splintered mess.
He felt his hackles rise as they approached the unmarked door. It looked harmless -- it didn't even have a lock -- yet his instincts screamed don't touch.
He considered, then put his arms around Yumemi. She guessed what he was up to.
"No!" She pushed back, resisting his idea but not his touch. "Don't port!"
He made the connection. "Sensors?"
"Yes." She pointed. Here, there; everywhere. "Just under the surface. The walls are lined with them. Gunther wanted to know if the Akuto here spiked above the ambient level."
He considered that. "He was expecting me."
"More or less. I think it was kind of a just-in-case plan."
He let his hands rest on her shoulders. "And he told you all this?"
"Yes." Her mouth twisted, and her eyes filled with vulnerability. "He came here all the time. I guess he wanted me to know how terrific his plan was." She flushed and wrapped her arms around herself. "I remember everything he said."
Munto was torn between the need to comfort and an equally strong need to find Gunther and rip his head off.
"Munto." She could read him as well as he read her. "He didn't touch me. He didn't even talk about it. It was all Akuto this, Akuto that."
"Then I'll kill him quickly," he said shortly.
Someone else might have perceived that as a promise to exact revenge. Yumemi, having an inside track, understood it for what it was. As king, Munto was ultimately responsible for protecting his citizens and meting out justice to any who harmed them. Yumemi, too, had been publicly taken under his protection. In his land, kidnapping was a capital offense.
"So I can't port." He considered the door. "And I don't like that door."
"Let me open it," she offered. "It's wired for your touch, not mine."
He raised a brow. "It never occurred to Gunther that you could turn doorknobs?"
"I don't think it occurred to him that we might actually trust each other. Or that you might bother reviving the source of Akuto before packing it out."
"Possible," he conceded. Gunther was smart, but his thinking moved along set tracks. He was a rationalist in every sense of the word. "Still..."
He rummaged through the tool satchel and came up with a screwdriver. "Maybe we can bypass the knob."
There was no plate covering the door's latching mechanism. He pulled the gloves on just in case and popped the latch effortlessly.
They tensed. The door swung inward a couple inches, but nothing exploded.
Tentatively, Munto pushed the door open with the screwdriver.
It led into a deserted warehouse – a smelly, dripping one, at that. Massive support beams had once held up the now sagging ceiling and perhaps three or four stories of flooring, but neglect had taken its toll and the beams still there dotted the area in seemingly random fashion.
And across the floor scurried hordes of insects, disturbed by the opening and shutting of a long-silent door.
“Cockaroaches,” Yumemi gulped. “Stars above, swarms and swarms of…”
Munto picked her up.
“I-it’s okay!” she protested feebly. “They’re just, um, bugs. I can walk –“
“You don’t have to be brave all the time.” He toed into the sludge-colored, unidentifiable debris scattered all over the floor. “Besides, there are sharp things in the mud. Let me do this for you.”
The bugs parted as he stepped cautiously forward, but otherwise seemed content to ignore them so long as they didn’t come within a certain distance. They made it halfway across without incident.
Yumemi noticed first. “Munto. The bugs.”
He took his eyes off the far door that, he hoped, led to a hallway and eventually to the outside. The roaches had abandoned their benign milling and were now fleeing en masse towards the wall at his back.
He tensed, shifting Yumemi to a side hold. Prey animals didn’t run like that except from –
The ground beneath him heaved. Munto shot into the air and whirled to face the attack, slinging Yumemi behind him.
A strange, segmented creature, neither insect nor mammal, burst out of the floor. Yumemi squeaked in terror. “It’s a centipede -- I think – but it’s huge –“
Its feelers rippled through the area around the hole; it seemed surprised to find nothing. Then it twisted upward and spotted them.
“Watch out,” Yumemi gasped. “They’re poisono—“
Its body seemed to triple in length as it shot out of its burrow, clawing for altitude. Munto threw Yumemi at a nearby crossbeam, trusting her to grab as tight as she could, and veered in the opposite direction, peppering the monstrosity with Akuto fire to keep its attention. It clattered its jawparts and writhed, loops swallowing loops in dizzying spirals.
“Behind you!” Yumemi shrieked.
He jinked to one side and felt something sharp graze his ribs. Another monster had emerged from the earth.
Fast buggers.
Unfortunately, his avoid put him on course for another beam. He opted to slam into the ground instead, just as the first creature recovered and rolled itself upright. Twin hungry gazes zeroed in on this intruder in their nest.
At least, they glared at him until a lumpy missile smacked into the second creature’s head.
“Leave him alone, you freaks!”
Yumemi had run along a crossbeam to get closer. Now she was prying chunks of rotten wood from her perch and hurling them. Her victim chittered, shook itself, and felt around in confusion.
“What are you doing?!”
“I don’t think they can see me!” She scored a hit on the first creature, too, right on its sensitive eye clusters. It knotted into an escape artist’s nightmare. “I remember Gunther talking about these. They’re Akuto mutations.”
She flipped hair out of her face, smudging her cheeks. “He made them to fight you. They’ve been tracking you like you glow, even through the air. And you do glow – with Akuto.”
He raised a fist, charging the air. Both creatures forgot their pain and snapped round as though yanked by a string. “Gunther created these things?”
“Yes!” She threw more chunks, triggering another round of writhing. “Their shells are really hard!”
He’d noticed that. The air crackled hotter. And hotter still.
That’s enough, he decided, and ported. The monsters dove for the sudden surge of Akuto just as his charge exploded, raining gory chitin scales all over the place.
It also shook Yumemi off her perch, but he was there to catch her. Now he knew where all the sharp stuff had come from – shed scales.
Her feet were bleeding, scuffed by the splintery beam. He pressed them with a corner of his cloak. Her hands weren’t much better off. They probably looked worse than they were, but the splinters needed to come out before they caused infection.
“The alarm is sounding,” Yumemi said softly.
He could hear it shrilling too.
Ah, well. He’d been hoping to avoid that, but there was no helping it now. He blew a hole in the ceiling and they were out. Might as well get in trouble for two explosions as one.
X X X
"Sir! Sir!" The cry echoed down the hallway. "We've been looking for you everywhere --"
Gunther turned, annoyed. He'd wanted to see how the Akuto mutations were coming along, but judging from the expression on the soldier's face, it would have to wait. "What is it?"
The soldier pulled even with him and doubled over, gasping. "It's -- it's --"
"Out with it."
"Here," the soldier wheezed. "He's here. I don't know how he found us, but --"
Gunther's eyes widened fractionally. Impossible, but -- "Munto's here?"
The soldier pushed off his knees, straightening with an effort. He must have run halfway across the complex. "We detected two large Akuto explosions near the mutation burrows, and the secure room's been breached. It was raw Akuto. No else could have --"
Gunther was already running. "Why didn't you call me?!"
"Because you left your phone in your office! Sir."
"Shut up and run."
"Yes, sir."
X X X
“You dropped me,” she said icily. “You dropped me!”
“Technically, I threw you.”
Another sound joined the alarm; the peculiar whining of a hoversail engine. A skydweller’s vessel.
He felt Yumemi tense.
A quick survey told him that they’d exited on the side of the building complex opposite from the side he’d entered on. It was still dark, but the moon was up. There were a few parks and multi-storied office buildings nearby. He chose a likely looking rooftop and swooped down, tucking Yumemi between two humming air conditioner units.
“Stay here,” he said softly. Yumemi, taking in his overly calm expression, realized that he was very, very angry.
“Munto…”
“Share your strength with me.”
She took his outstretched hand, letting Akuto pour through their connection. That trust hadn’t changed.
He brushed her bangs out of her eyes in thanks. “Don’t look,” he ordered, and threw himself skyward.
He was charging before his feet left the building, wielding a mass of unstable Akuto much bigger than the one he’d used on the centipedes. Yumemi gasped as a dark craft rose from one of the larger complex buildings, shrugging off the roof like a bird rearranging its feathers.
Munto headed straight for it.
She remembered his injunction just in time and clapped her hands over her eyes. Even so, she still saw the scorching explosion that lit up the sky.
Gunther might have guessed that the Magical King was here, but he’d never been able to predict what Munto would do next.
Another breath and Munto was crouched beside her, smelling of fire and ash.
“You can look now.” He sounded grimly satisfied.
Yumemi peeked between her fingers. A huge ball of smoke dominated the complex, and the erstwhile hanger was on fire. Huge shadows danced like ghosts. Sirens wailed everywhere.
“Let’s go.”
She nodded mutely. She had a feeling Gunther wouldn’t be bothering her again.
“I didn’t know you knew first aid.” Yumemi laid the tweezers aside and swished her feet through the plastic tub of antiseptic, wincing. It was hard to pick splinters with her hands all bandaged up. She felt almost human again after some sleep and a shower. Suzume had rummaged up some pajamas from the governess’s room to replace the ill-fitting coveralls, but her feet needed more than a change of socks. “There, I think I got them all.”
“First aid?” Munto shook out another roll of cotton gauze. Kazuya handed him the scissors. “Thanks. Is that what you call this?”
“Mm-hmm.”
It was morning; the sun shone brightly outside. Ichiko had gone home after a tearful reunion, relieved that Yumemi was safe but exhausted from her sleepless vigil. It had almost killed her to thank the skydweller, but she had.
Munto couldn’t say he missed her.
He toweled Yumemei’s foot off and inspected it for remaining splinters. Finding none, he brushed antibacterial salve across the open cuts and started wrapping. As with her hands, there were too many little wounds to bother with separate band-aids. “It’s normal for us to study front line medicine. We’ve been at war since I was little.”
“Makes sense.” Kazuya handed her a cup of hot milk. “All we delinquents know is fighting and backyard patchups.”
“That’s Lord Delinquent to you.” Munto caressed the bandaged arch and started on the other foot. Yumemi blushed. Suzume giggled. She was chopping greens in the kitchen.
“And when you’re done there, I’ll make you all a delicious salad!”
“I doubt we’ll have time for that,” Kazuya observed regretfully. “As soon as they figure out Yumemi’s missing and not blown up, they’ll be checking on everyone who knew her.”
As if on cue, someone started pounding on the door. Suzume jumped, slicing her finger.
There were several of them at the front of the house, judging by the shouting outside. Munto fastened the last loop of bandage and scooped Yumemi up.
Kazuya tilted his head toward the back yard. “You know where the other door is, right?”
“Don’t need it.” Munto ported, vanishing along with Yumemi.
“Wow.” Suzume watched the glitters of Akuto fade, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen him do that before.”
“Suzume. You’re bleeding.” Kazuya guided her to the sink, ignoring the door. They’d be breaking it down in a minute or two. He hoped the cats were hiding somewhere safe.
“I cut myself.” Suzume waved her dry hand at the first aid kit and supplies scattered across the table. “I was making salad for us both, but then I cut myself. And you’re fixing me up. Okay, Kazuya-kun?”
He ran a finger under her jawline. “Okay.”
X X X
They watched from across the street, perched on the ridge of a second-story roof. The officers didn’t stay, going inside only long enough to look around and question Kazuya; Suzume struck them as too featherbrained to be worth bothering. Then they left.
“I can’t go home,” Yumemi observed. “Can I.”
“No.” Munto gathered his courage. “Yumemi, do you –“
He broke off as she held up a bandaged pinky.
“I thought maybe you’d forgotten.”
He made a sound that was half derision, half relief, and gathered her close. “I didn’t.”
X X X
“I’m telling you, I don’t know where my daughter is!” Mrs. Hidaka wrung her hands. “She’s been missing for almost three weeks. You know that!”
The officers exchanged glances. “And you haven’t seen her since?”
“Of course not! Don’t you think we would have called off the search?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Please, have you found anything?”
The lieutenant gestured, and two of them split off of the group, one heading up the stairs and the other into the kitchen. “We’ll just take a quick look around, then.”
“This is an outrage!” Mr. Hidaka put an arm around his wife. “Our daughter was abducted! We’re not hiding her in the pantry.”
The officers didn’t answer. It took the group only minutes to verify that Yumemi Hidaka was indeed not at home.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. and Mrs. Hidaka.”
With that, they left. Chikara, who’d been hiding behind the sofa, threw his ball at the door. “Nasty men!”
“I’m going to have some words with that lieutenant’s boss,” Mr. Hidaka growled, heading for the phone.
“Why?” Mrs. Hidaka whispered. “What on earth is going on?”
A soft knock sounded at the kitchen window. Mr. Hidaka paused as he recognized Suzume. She waved, her band-aid flashing.
He opened the window.
“Kazuya brought me,” she whispered. “He’s around the corner. Are the police gone?”
He looked confused, but nodded. “Yes.”
She pointed.
Mr. Hidaka followed her finger out the living room window.
“Dear… dear, look.”
Mrs. Hidaka caught her breath. It was her daughter. She was on the rooftop of the house opposite, waving to them, smiling radiantly. She was all right.
A strange man was holding her.
“Big sister! Big brother!” Chikara waved frantically.
“It’s the man who saved Chikara,” Mrs. Hidaka gasped. But he looked so different now, dressed in strange garments that suited him much better than street clothes. His hair no longer hid his ears.
“That’s Munto,” Suzume said. “He found her. She’s safe with him.”
Munto inclined his head ever so slightly.
Then they were gone, soaring into the clouds.
X X X
Rui paced the halls, knowing everything was fine at the moment but never able to rest in the knowledge. He didn’t like being in charge. He could do it, and do it well, but it wasn’t his place. Everything seemed out of kilter with the king gone.
It was evening. It was time to rest. He couldn’t. Something was up, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Then he jumped as a familiar voice roared somewhere in the main audience room.
“Shuza! Shuza, come here this instant!”
The general ran. By the time he got there, a crowd was gathering.
“Munto! Yumemi!”
“Yumemi!”
“Lady Yumemi!”
The names rippled through the palace and down the hill. Lights came on. Maids scurried.
Munto was standing in the middle of a knot of people, an unconscious Yumemi in his arms. He smelled like fire.
“SHUZA!”
Shuza finally appeared, having hurried from somewhere outside the building. “What is it--? Oh! Lady Yumemi!”
“She’s just asleep, right?” Munto’s voice was edged with panic.
Shuza took his time, checking her pulse and her breathing. “She’s fine,” he said at last.
“Thank goodness.” Munto let out the breath he’d been holding.
“What happened to her hands and feet?”
“Splinters,” Munto said shortly, and laid the girl in Shuza’s arms. “Change the bandages.” He looked around at the maids. “And give her her old room.”
Hope flickered from face to face. “Is she – is she—“
Munto relented. “She’s staying.”
The maids squealed and raced away. Once again, Yumemi had come to them with nothing but the clothes on her back. They would take good care of her.
“You brought her back,” Rui marveled as the room slowly emptied, the maids going one way and Shuza another. “But… you were gone for days. What happened?”
Munto shrugged and dragged a hand across his face. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I need sleep. Make sure she isn’t disturbed until she wakes up herself.”
“Very good.” The world slipped back into place at the order. Rui smiled and turned to carry it out.
“Rui.”
Rui turned. Munto was holding his hand up, palm out.
“High five.”
“Yes, I expect the king will be free to hear you out,” Rui predicted as he led the way down the hall. “He’s not nearly as busy as he was during… a few years ago.”
He narrowly avoided the word war. It was something nobody was anxious to be reminded of, especially delegates from countries who’d formerly supported attacks on the kingdom they were now petitioning. To be honest, it wasn’t his favorite topic either. The kingdom was seeing much better days, and he was happy for that.
Oh. Voices. The king already had visitors.
Rui cracked the door to the audience chamber discreetly, not wanting to disturb an important meeting. His caution proved merited. The queen, apparently, had dropped by with a plate of something for the king. Rui was just in time to see her get pulled into the king’s lap.
“-to!”
“I’m not hungry.” The king set the food aside and cradled her like a child, ignoring her half-hearted protests. “I’d rather eat you.”
“Someone might come –“
“I’ll kick them out.” Whatever else she said, it was muffled under a tigerish kiss. She stopped squirming and slid her arms around his neck. Down below, a kitten popped out from somewhere behind the throne and trotted over to investigate the forgotten plate.
Rui smiled and closed the door. Given the warmth of the affection between those two, the kingdom would have an heir in no time.
“Gentlemen, it appears I was mistaken. The king is in fact, ah, tied up.” He shifted tack smoothly. “In the meantime, would you care to see the gardens?”
-The End
DISCLAIMER: One more time, ladies and gentlemen. This story not created, acknowledged or endorsed by Kyoto Animation or Yoshiji Kigami, to whom all relevant characters and trademarks belong. No infringement is intended and absolutely no profit was or ever will be made. To Wake itself is fan domain and may be freely recopied and archived. Reader reactions are appreciated, as always.
Thanks to the awesome Shadowshock for her proofreading and spot-on suggestions, without which this would be a much shorter fic.
Thanks also to all of you who reviewed King of Dreams so warmly. This story is for you.