CHAPTER 20 #2
“Security’s pretty tight,” Teruo said as he eyed the tabby cat who was lounging atop the desk. “Are you afraid more cats are gonna break in?”
Shinji and Keiko sniggered while Horiuchi and the desk clerk grimaced.
“What, you’re not letting humor through security either?” Teruo asked, making Keiko snort-giggle.
“Follow me,” Horiuchi said drily.
Shinji leaned in and whispered, “Your jokes are terrible.”
“My jokes are hilarious,” Teruo whispered back. “They got me a handsome boyfriend.” He winked.
A lovely blush spread on Shinji’s cheeks, and he shook his head at Teruo. He turned his attention to Keiko. “Where’s Mr. Tamura?”
“Out in the yard, by the maple trees,” Keiko said. “I’ve been persuading him to tell us the truth. He has been incredibly difficult to reason with, but he said he might be willing to tell you.”
Shinji arched a brow, looking annoyed. “He’d better be.”
Before Teruo could ask for clarification, they reached an elevator and stepped inside. Shinji seemed awfully uncomfortable in Horiuchi’s presence, so Teruo left the subject for when she was out of the picture.
“I thought you said that technology and the supernatural don’t go well together,” Teruo said. “But you have elevators, computers, phones. How come they’re fine?”
“The appliances inside the castle have been adjusted to work within the confines of the dimensional bubble,” Shinji explained.
“There are also small and barely noticeable cracks in the barriers around the castle, made intentionally to help with reception and other technological necessities. But there are plenty of times when technology glitches, which is why sometimes we communicate via trained animals.”
“They better be treating the cats well or they’ll hear from me.”
“We’re already hearing plenty from you,” Horiuchi retorted.
Shinji gave her a quick side-eye before shrugging. “I’d say the animals are treated better than some humans.”
If Horiuchi noticed the snide remark, she made no show of it.
When the elevator reached the third floor, she stepped out and gestured for them to follow her.
While the building looked like a castle from the outside, the inside was a blend of modern appliances—white led lights on the ceiling, automated lock doors, some were sturdy metal doors with warnings not to trespass.
But there were no windows. Teruo disliked that because he preferred the natural light and warmth of the sun.
Horiuchi opened a door that led to a room which resembled a doctor’s office: cabinets with medicine, a desk with a laptop, and a recliner with a small table next to it that had a set of empty tubes, likely for bloodwork, and a bed at the far end.
A man waited inside, wearing simple scrubs.
Golden particles swung around him. He bowed and motioned for Teruo to sit on the recliner.
“Oh shit,” Keiko muttered. “Look at those needles…!”
“I’m not afraid of needles,” Teruo said.
“No, I am.”
Teruo chuckled. “You can’t do blood tests anymore.”
“Oh yeah! Ha!”
Shinji grabbed a small chair and sat himself by Teruo’s side, his fingers entwined with Teruo’s free hand.
He didn’t seem preoccupied with the lab technician, but with Horiuchi as his glare fell on her from time to time.
Teruo felt guilty for striking a deal with her, however she’d gotten them this far, so he squeezed Shinji’s hand and offered him a smile. I’m all right.
Shinji swallowed and blew a long sigh.
“Are you sure you’re qualified to do this?” Teruo asked the lab technician.
“Yes,” he answered as he prepped Teruo’s arm.
“What are your qualifications?”
The man stared at Teruo, but before he could answer, Horiuchi intervened. “Our medical staff works in non-supernatural hospitals and they come here from time to time to help. They have powers, but they also have jobs in the medical field. Now be quiet and let him do his job.”
Teruo scoffed. “Can’t a guy socialize without you all getting butthurt?”
“You’re not socializing, you’re interrogating,” Horiuchi said.
“That’s how I socialize,” Teruo replied.
Horiuchi shot daggers at him, while Shinji and Keiko were sucking their lips so they wouldn’t laugh.
Teruo didn’t care that he was pissing off Horiuchi as long as he could put Shinji at ease.
It was working because Shinji gave him a mischievous look that Teruo knew well: You’re being an asshole, but I’m into it.
The lab tech finished drawing his blood, and applied a pressure dressing. After telling Horiuchi he’d do the tests as fast as possible, he left.
“Are you feeling okay?” Shinji asked, tracing his palms in soothing motions across Teruo’s shoulders.
“Yes, don’t worry.”
Shinji turned sharply toward Horiuchi. “Can he eat now? He hasn’t eaten all morning.”
“I want to analyze his soul, and then he can eat.” Horiuchi pointed to the bed in the corner. “Lie down. This won’t hurt.”
“That’s what all doctors say,” Keiko whispered.
“Good thing I’m not a doctor, then.”
Teruo walked to the bed and lay down, feeling rather strange to have the commissioner hovering over him. He’d always been a private person and now both the superintendent and the commissioner knew his business. And worse, he owed them for helping him.
Shinji rolled the chair over, but Horiuchi stopped him. “Remain at a distance. Your reiryoku will negatively affect my analysis.”
Shinji’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he retreated further away. Keiko floated by his side and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m feeling all right,” Teruo countered. “He can stay—”
“No,” Horiuchi said as golden spiritual energy drifted out of her body.
The shimmering, warm particles hovered above Teruo, then slowly reached for his chest, and a rush of heat left him breathless for a moment.
His heart pounded in his chest as he sensed the energy crawling under his skin.
It didn’t hurt, but he hated it nonetheless, and held onto the edge of the bed tight.
“Kazuya is right by rushing this,” Horiuchi continued. “Most of the teacher’s soul that was used to repair your is gone. That’s a large gap we’ll need to fix.” She let out a long sigh. “Lie to yourself all you want, but your soul tells me you’re not fine at all.”
Teruo swallowed hard and made eye contact with Shinji for a second.
His lips trembled, looking on the verge of tears, but holding himself back while Keiko gently whispered something in his ear.
Although Teruo wanted the truth from Horiuchi, part of him wished she’d just shut up and not make Shinji feel worse and blame himself.
“Was the temporary sealing of my powers approved?” Shinji asked, his voice cracking.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Typical,” Shinji retorted.
“We’re short-staffed. Shinigami are few in number and you know that,” Horiuchi said. “I already warned you there is a chance it might not be approved.”
A derisive snort escaped Shinji. “I’m part time, so a temporary sealing wouldn’t affect spectral management in any way. But I never expected the Onmyōryō to help. Not your forte.”
Horiuchi remained quiet a few moments as her energy slowly withdrew from within Teruo’s chest. He held his breath so he wouldn’t wince from the prickling sensation, warm compared to Keiko’s aura and Shinji’s energy.
Somehow it irritated him in a way that Shinji’s reiryoku never did, but that was likely because it was Horiuchi and not Shinji.
She offered her hand to Teruo to help him up and he almost didn’t take it because she annoyed him, but he ended up accepting because she was his superior officer.
“You seem to harbor a lot of hatred for the Onmyōryō even though you work here?” Horiuchi asked Shinji.
“I’m allowed to have different values than my employer,” Shinji said. “Especially when that employer likes to sweep serious problems under the rug.”
Horiuchi twisted her lips to the side. “I guess what I’m about to say will make you hate us even more. After we finish with the chief’s situation, I’ll need you to burn the journals.”
Seldom had Teruo seen Shinji’s eyes ignite with so much rage. The white tendrils of his spiritual energy burst out of him, whipping the air menacingly. Keiko gasped and Teruo backed away as he felt his soul reacting.
“I’ll never do that!” Shinji snarled. “Fire me, if you want, but I won’t destroy the only memory I have of my mother.”
“Calm yourself,” Horiuchi said raising her palms. “You’re affecting the chief. The journals are dangerous because of what your mother wrote in them,” she continued.
“Are you saying that my mother’s healing instructions could result in something harmful? I thought healing was only good.”
Horiuchi shook her head. “Leave the pretense because I know you noticed the kinds of experiments your mother did are bordering on forbidden territory. If the journals fall into the wrong hands, who knows how that information will be used.”
“The Onmyōryō’s hypocrisy never fails to deliver,” Shinji sneered.
“The journals have been fine for over thirty years. What’s truly dangerous is how you prioritize the wrong things.
Right now, you’re hiding behind the ‘classified information’ excuse while an extractor is killing people, so don’t tell me my mother’s journals are the problem when your real problem is loose on the streets. ”
Horiuchi’s gaze darkened, but she remained eerily quiet. For a moment, her attention shifted to Teruo and he frowned, hoping she wasn’t about to use him to force Shinji into compliance. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did, but the journals were the one thing Teruo would not bargain for.
Just as he was about to remind her that they made an agreement, Horiuchi pulled something from her suit jacket’s inner pocket and extended it to Teruo. It was a flash drive and Teruo reluctantly took it from her.
“I dug some more last night and that’s what I found. Neither I nor the team working on finding Takeda Fuyumi have managed to figure out her goals or deduce where she might be headed. Perhaps you can see something we don’t.”
“Thank you,” Teruo said. “We appreciate your trust.”
“Don’t make me regret leaving this case in your hands,” Horiuchi said.
“Commissioner, with all due respect,” Teruo continued, “but at this moment I am the only person in this entire castle who Takeda Fuyumi cannot kill with her powers. Not even your strongest shape-shifters can go after her.”
Horiuchi didn’t reply, but her lips quirked in a little smile. Teruo could guess she was thinking he was an arrogant bastard, but he wasn’t wrong.
“Do something about those journals,” Horiuchi told Shinji, then left the room before he could add anything else.
Heavy breaths left Shinji’s mouth, and Teruo remained in his spot until the white tendrils of reiryoku retreated into Shinji’s body. He looked defeated.
Teruo went to him and gently wiped a tear from the corner of Shinji’s eye. “We’ll buy a safe and hide the journals. I won’t let them destroy your mother’s memories. I promise.”