ame

Ame

By Missouri Dalton

The rain was a cold and gray wetness that seeped

down the back of my neck. I stared into the alley, poised
in  the  darkness  as  the  wind  swept  through  my  wet
clothes.  The  alley  was  dark,  mud  covering  the  stone
paving like a scab over flesh. My leg cramped; I ignored
it. Idly, I twisted the coil of wire in my hand. The tiles of
the  roof  were  slick,  I  held  on  with  the  help  of  rubber-
gripped gloves and shoes.

This place -- it already smelled of decay, death.

Blood  painted  the  walls  of  the  houses  that  lined  the
alleyway. Laughter, raucous and grating, came from the
gambling  establishment  behind  me.  I  winced  and  shut
out  the  noise,  concentrating  on  my  other  surroundings.
Not  an  ideal  location  really;  few  routes  of  escape  were
open to me, and one too many for my prey.

I didn't know why I had been asked to take care of

this one. I hadn't asked. One does not question their
supervisors too closely in my line of business. Besides,
this was my last job, and then I was done; they had
sworn a blood-oath. Just one more. Just this one.

Footsteps muffled by mud drew my attention. She

walked into the alley. A delicate paper umbrella perched
over  her  shoulder,  protecting  the  extravagant  silk
kimono she wore from the rain. Her face was painted, a
white  mask,  hair  shining  in  the  flickering  light  of  the
lantern  she  carried  in  her  free  hand.  Her  tall  geta  kept
the  hem  of  her  dress  out  of  the  muck.  She  looked
incredibly out place, the classical attire making me feel
as if I'd gone back in time. In this dreary outlier, it was
like time had been standing still. There was no evidence
of the modern world.

My heartbeat quickened as I braced for what was to

come. I dropped down after she passed, slipping the wire
around her delicate neck. I pulled it taut, bracing myself
for the struggle, but she didn't. I looked at her. She had
dropped the lantern, and a hand was trapped between the
wire and her windpipe. I watched in horror as her hair
began to move of its own accord to form thick tentacles
that wrapped around my wrists. The back of her head
split open to form a mouth with sharp teeth and a long
pointed tongue that whipped out and licked my face.

I had heard stories about creatures such as this from

my grandmother, but never in all my life had I thought

they were real. I spent my life in the shadows, and this
night showed me a deeper darkness was still waiting to
be discovered. I was frozen. For the first time I could
remember since starting this work, I was frozen in fear.
My hands slackened, and the wire fell uselessly to the
ground.

She twisted around to face me, smiling. Swifter than I

could follow, a tendril of hair pulled a knife from is
depths. It flashed in the light cast by the fallen lantern as
it swept down.

Skin pushed away from the blade as it made its way

toward the thick vein in my neck. Blood, red and
burning, gushed forth. She stepped back to avoid getting
any on her. She smiled still, those lips the color of
cherry blossoms. I collapsed to the ground, clutching my
throat.

"My apologies Takashi, but you are no longer

useful,"  she  said.  My  hands  slipped  in  the  blood.  She
laughed, a pretty, chime-like sound. She turned, bending
gracefully to retrieve her lantern, and walked away. The
second  mouth  laughed  too,  a  horrible  clashing.  The
tongue wagged, and the hair waved a mocking goodbye
with  the  knife.  The  rain  continued  to  fall,  the  blood
mixing with the mud around me, a bit of warmth while
my body grew cold. How could I freeze? I never froze.
How  could  that  be  real?  How?  I  could  still  hear  her
laughter as my world pitched into darkness.

***

It was the smell that woke me. Mint so strong it

burned the sensitive interior of my nose and brought
tears to my eyes. I coughed, throat burning with each
explosive

exhalation. Someone

was

holding

something over my face. I shoved it away, and the smell
faded.

"Awake," a thin voice whispered.
"Awake," a sticky voice said.
"Yes. Shoo away now, don't frighten the boy," a

crackled voice said. A woman I thought, old. I blinked
quickly to rid my eyes of tears and looked around. It was
dark, but I could hear the sounds of cars and crowds.

I couldn't be certain where I was at all just based on

sound, and my sense of smell was still burned out by the
mint. It was too dark to get a good sense of anything.
The one truly strange thing however, was my survival.

"Am I dead?" I rasped.
"No, dear boy. You're not dead."
"I can't see you," I said. Her voice came from my left,

but I couldn't see her.

"You won't be able to see me, boy. I am not of your

world. Just like the two-mouthed woman you
encountered." She laughed harshly. "I expect you didn't
see that coming."

"I could see her."
"She was once human. I have never been."
"Why… did you save me?" I was struggling to

understand. Was I talking to a ghost?

"I do not like her." She made a clicking sound. "And

I believe you can return the favor, boy."

"What could I do for… someone like you?" I wasn't

sure how to address her.

"You have talents, boy. You froze when you faced

the two-mouthed woman, but you will not do so again.
You conquer fear. You will kill the two-mouthed
woman if you face her again. I know this. I see it." A
wisp of blue smoke curled out of the darkness as if from
a pipe.

"You might over-estimate me. How can I kill

something like that?"

"Cut off her head. Cut off her head, Matsumoto

Takashi, and she will die."

"How did you…"
"I know the secrets of all men's hearts, Matsumoto.

Rest now. When the two-mouthed woman comes before
you again, cut off her head, and your debt to me will be
paid."

My eyes started to close again, and I sighed. I would

cut off that bitch's head. For myself, without the
stranger's prompting. For myself.

***

I bit down on the dried squid I'd picked up from a

street  vendor  and  stared  out  at  the  ocean.  The  salty,
chewy snack was my favorite, but it wasn't making me
feel any better right now. I sighed. It had been a month
since  I  was  scooped  up  out  of  the  alley  by  mysterious
creatures.  My  wounds  had  healed,  mostly,  and  I  was
thankful  for  the  cold  weather  because  it  gave  me  an
excuse to wear a scarf.

The wound left a terrible scar. I leaned against the

metal railing separating the sidewalk from the beach and
tried to lose myself in the view.

"Matsumoto-kun, is that you?"
I turned away from the ocean to see who had spoken.

"Sato-san." The tall, slender man had been a year ahead
of me in school, but we'd been in Shougi club together.
He'd  gone  on  to  university;  I  hadn't  graduated  high
school.  "What  are  you  doing  in  Ota?"  He  looked  the
same, a little older, but the same. His dark hair was cut
fashionably  to  frame  his  face in feathery layers, and

his eyes still unnerved me, ghostly pale blue. He was
dressed for the weather in a navy blue wool coat with a
line of dark buttons, a yellow hand-knit scarf wrapped
around his neck and black gloves.

"Visiting my parents. It's been... two years, right?"

He smiled. "You look well. What have you been up to?"

Killing people for money to pay off my debt to the

yakuza. To be fair though, the people I killed were either
yakuza or scum. That didn't make it easier to live with,
though. "Working." I shrugged.

"Hana-chan told me you didn't graduate." He

sounded disappointed. "Your grades were good,
Takashi."

I felt an electric thrill when he said my name. It

brought back old memories. Staying late after club
activities to clean the classroom together had turned into
so much more.

"Are you dating anyone?" I diverted the line of

questioning and tucked my remaining squid into my coat
pocket. "How's school?"

Daisuke smiled. "Avoiding the question. You were

always good at that, Takashi. No, I haven't been dating
anyone. School is going well; I passed my exams this
term."

"Still going to be a doctor then?"
"That's the plan. I'm interning at a local hospital." He

leaned on the rail next to me. "What's your plan?"

Redirecting the conversation back to me, clever

Daisuke. "I don't really have a plan. It's not my style,
Daisuke."

"No, it never was." He pushed hair out of his face.

"Do you want to get dinner with me? We can go to that
Ramen shop you like."

That

was

very tempting offer. "That place

with the good miso?"

"Yes." He grinned. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes." I straightened and managed to return the

smile. "You are paying, right?"

"Same old, Takashi. Yes, I'll pay. Free-loader."
Given that I had perhaps two-thousand yen to my

name at that moment in time, I was perfectly happy to
be a free-loader. I had no shame left in me. "Thank you,
very much."

"Perhaps you can come up with some way to repay

the favor," he quirked an eyebrow at me in a sordid
manner.

I wasn't unwilling to do that either. "We'll see, won't

we?"

He straightened and held out an arm. "Come along

then."

I rolled my eyes and looped my arm through his.

"Lead on."

***

I woke up tangled in the bedding of Daisuke's futon. I

didn't see him anywhere in the room. The sliding screen
that  led  out  to  the  hall  was  cracked  open.  Some  of  the
paper  was  torn.  For  a  moment,  I  thought  I  saw  eyes
staring  at  me  from  the  paper.  I  shook  my  head  and
kicked  off  the  covers  to  sit  up.  I  scrubbed  a  hand
through my hair and yawned.

"Daisuke?" I got up from the futon and located my

pants, slipping them on before padding into the hallway.
"Daisuke?"

"Down here. Do you want some coffee?"
"Please," I replied, following the echo of his voice to

a small kitchen. "Shouldn't your parents be here, if you

intend to visit them?" I looked around the kitchen and
took a seat at the small table.

"They're gone for a couple days. My father had a

business trip at an onsen, and mother wanted to go."

"Ah."
"Sugar, milk?"
"Sugar. No milk, please."
He set the coffee down in front of me and paused,

eyes locking on something. The injury. "How did that
happen?"

"Work." I took a sip of coffee. "This is good, what

kind is it?"

"Deflecting again. You don't get your throat slit 'at

work', Taka. Tell me what happened." He leaned over
the table. "Now."

"I was attacked outside a bar. A good Samaritan

found me, saved my life." I shrugged. "I was careless."

"Have the police caught the person who did it?"
"No."
"Does that scare you?" He sat down. "It would scare

me."

I was going to kill the bitch by cutting off her head. I

wasn't scared just… anxious. "Of course."

He gave me a strange look. "Why do I feel like you're

lying?"

I shrugged and took another drink of coffee. "You

always were a suspicious person."

"When it comes to you, Taka, there's a good reason

for  that."  He'd  fallen  into  his  old  nickname  for  me
easily.  We'd  both  fallen  into  old  habits  easily.  Bed
habits,  breakfast  habits.  Daisuke  had  been  the  one  in
charge  of  our  relationship  from  the  beginning.  He'd
always  been  the  smart  one,  the  more  experienced  one.
I'd  been  a  punk,  and  he'd  tried  to  bring  my  life

around.

Too bad it was way too late by the time Daisuke and

I  got  together.  I'd  been  neck  deep  in  debt  with  the
yakuza.  My  debt  was  paid  now,  technically,  but  I  was
avoiding them. I went by Atsuko Takashi and kept a low
profile.  They  all  thought  I  was  dead,  and  I  planned  on
keeping it that way.

"That hurts, Daisuke. I'm not a suspicious person."
"Uh-huh." He raised his eyebrows. "You're an angel.

That's why you got beat up, what was it, five times?
While we were in Shougi club together."

"Some people had a thing about my dad being

American, that's all." There was a thought -- I could start
going by Takashi Thompson and move to the states. In
theory, dad was still alive somewhere. I'd always gone
by my mother's name, but I guess it wouldn't be so bad
to take my father's name. I didn't particularly have
anything against the man. It would make it a lot easier to
duck the yakuza.

"Uh-huh. Do you want eggs for breakfast?"
"I -- I should get going, actually." I pushed the coffee

cup away. "Lots to do today." I stood up. "Thanks… for
everything."

"Taka, wait," he grabbed my hand. "Will I see you

again?"

"Of course," I smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
Daisuke had a promising future ahead of him. He was

moving forward. I was a dead man walking. There was
no future for us, but I was glad I had seen him again. It
showed  me  how  little  I'd  managed  to  accomplish  with
my  own  life.  The  only  way  I  trumped  Daisuke  was  in
the  number  of  people  I'd  killed,  and  that  wasn't
something to brag about.

"Tomorrow then, why don't we meet at that family

restaurant down the block?"

"Sure. I'll be there." I smiled. "It's a promise."
Daisuke smiled brightly, and I felt a stab of guilt in

my gut. I won't see you again, Daisuke. Sorry.

***
I stood up Daisuke and went back to the alleyway

where I'd encountered the two-mouthed woman. I hadn't
seen any trace of her since the attack. I thought she
might work with the yakuza who'd hired me out, but that
was a dangerous line of questioning. If I scratched at
that, they'd know I was still alive and send someone else
to kill me.

But I had to find her. I wanted to repay the spirit that

saved my life, and I wanted to kill the creature that
nearly took it. It was pretty simple vengeance.

Maybe a geisha house? She had been wearing the

whole nine yards. There was no way someone didn't
know who she was.

I paused at the spot where I'd nearly died. The blood

was gone, and in the daylight this place didn't seem
nearly as frightening as it once did. The scar did ache
from time to time.

"Boy," a weathered old voice whispered. "Looking

for the two-mouthed woman?"

I could not see the spirit creature that had saved my

life,  though  there  was  something,  just  at  the  corner  of
my eye. A stranger sight than I had seen since that night.
A...  raccoon  dog.  I'd  been  reading  about  youkai  and
creatures  like  the  two-mouthed  woman.  I  wanted  to  be
prepared.  There  were  creatures  of  the  spirit  world  that
took  the  form  of  animals.  The  raccoon  dog  was  pretty
popular as far as it went.

"He he he, you are starting to see. Aren't you, boy?

Good,

Takashi.

Very good."

Something

clattered onto the stone. "This is for cutting her head
off." I felt something brush against my neck, setting the
injury to throb painfully. "And that is for finding her.
The less it hurts, the closer you are to her."

"Thank -- thank you. Tanuki-onna."
She laughed again. "Good luck, Takashi."
She was gone. I was sure of it. I took a look around

and saw what she had dropped on the ground. A katana
wrapped in white cloth. A strip of white paper ran down
the  center  of  it  and  kanji  characters  read:  Masahige.  I
swallowed.  If  there  was  one  subject  I  had  been
interested  in  during  school,  it  was  history.  Hattoro
Hanzo  -- Devil  Hanzo,  samurai  of  legendary
proportions.  Was  this  really  his  sword?  I  picked  it  up
and  took  a  breath.  Surely  the  sword  of  someone  like
Hattoro  Hanzo  would  help  me  kill  the  two-mouthed
woman.  I  unwrapped  the  cloth  and  let  it  fall  away,
revealing a black enamel handle set with silver patterns
and  a  black  sheath  patterned  with  cranes.  I  pulled  the
two apart to examine the blade. It looked sharp enough.

I took a step forward, and pain stabbed through my

neck. Wrong way. I took a step backward and it dulled.
Okay then. Time to follow the path of least pain. That
was new. I turned around, tucking the sword underneath
my coat, sliding it through the belt loop of my jeans and
started walking in the direction the wound indicated.

If I paused for too long, the pain set me moving

again. It was a constant pressure. I couldn't ease up, and
it was drawing me further and further into the jungle of
Tokyo. The sort of places I'd been avoiding. This was
not keeping my head down, but I had no choice. The
pain urged me forward.

I bought a hat and pulled it down over my ears, and a

surgical mask to put over my face. They were

common  enough  in  this  weather  to  not  draw  any
attention.  I  found  myself  gripping  the  handle  of  the
sword.  The  sun  had  set  a  long  time  ago,  but  the  neon
lights  of  the  city  were  more  than  enough  to  light  my
path.  It  started  to  rain,  just  like  it  had  that  night.  Cold,
icy tendrils of water crept down into my clothes.

This night will turn out differently.
As I approached an intersection, the pain suddenly

vanished all together. The relief sent goose bumps down
my arms, and I looked all around for the woman. There.
Dressed again as a geisha, she stood outside a pachinko
parlor, smoking a pipe. Unlike the last time, I could see
something  peculiar  about  her.  There  was  an  aura  of
darkness  around  her.  Blowing  out  blue  smoke,  she
tapped  the  ashes  free  of  the  pipe  and  smiled.  Her  teeth
were black. I crossed the street quickly, reaching under
the  coat  for  the  hilt  of  the  sword.  She  would  not  get  a
second chance.

She looked up when I was within arm's reach and

smiled. "You survived."

"You won't."
She laughed. "This is not the place to fight, Takashi.

Come,  follow  me.  We  will  do  battle  like  the  monsters
and  warriors  of  old  -- out  of  sight  of  these  common
creatures."  She  tucked  her  pipe  inside  her  sleeve.
"Come, Takashi." She beckoned, gliding away from me
toward the opening of an alleyway.

I followed her, wary and still gripping the sword. "I

will kill you, Futakuchi-onna."

"You can try, warrior." She backed into the alley, and

I followed closely. "I have lived a long time. You may
regret trying to kill me."

I shrugged. "Life is full of regrets."
"So very true." She reached up and pulled a

jade comb from her piled up hair, letting it loose to fall
down to the ground. "Die with this one." Her hair fanned
out and separated into a multitude of thick tentacles
before rushing at me, I dragged the sword free of its
sheath and let the empty bamboo case fall to the ground
while I slashed out at her hair.

Tendrils fell to the puddle strewn alley, and she

screamed in fury. "How dare you!"

"I won't go easy, if that's what you were thinking," I

replied, sweeping the blade through another clump of
hair.

She snarled, and her hair renewed its attack. The cut

ends, however, remained motionless and oozed black
ichor.

The two-mouthed woman pulled knives from her

sleeves, and her hair tendrils took them up. One scored a
hit, slashing into the meat of my shoulder. I grunted and
struck out, catching her in the chest. She shrieked, and
her hair retreated toward her. I took a deep breath and
rushed her, swinging out with all I had.

Her head bounced twice, the body staying still and

standing  for  several  moments  before  falling  to  the
ground.  The  kimono  collapsed  as  the  youkai's  body
turned  into…  flower  petals.  Cherry  blossom  petals
floated about the puddles.

I swallowed and went back to retrieve the sheath.

There wasn't a trace of blood anywhere on the kimono.
She was just… gone. I sheathed the sword and put it
back through my belt loop. Blood was soaking into my
shoulder from the knife wound. I took a breath and
wrapped my scarf around it. The injury was deeper than
I thought it was.

Had the bitch hit a major blood vessel? I stumbled

out of the alley, starting to feel dizzy. The whole

sleeve of my coat was soaked. I took a slow breath and
tried to get my bearings, but I had been pulled into a part
of Tokyo I wasn't familiar with. My heart beat loudly in
my ears, a hellish drum. I took another step, and the
ground began to spin.

Not again.

***

Beep, beep, beep.
I wasn't dead, and waking up after major blood loss

was starting to become a disturbing habit. This time,
though, I woke up in a hospital and not a youkai's hidey-
hole. It smelled strongly of cleaner.

"You're awake."
I blinked and took a look around. "Daisuke?" He sat

in a chair next to my bedside, arms folded over his chest.

"Who'd have thought you'd end up at the hospital I'm

interning at?" He leaned forward. "At least you had a
good reason for standing me up."

It was probably safest for me if he thought that.

"Sorry about that. I don't suppose I get pudding for
being injured?"

He smiled. "You lose half a pint of blood and the first

thing you ask for is pudding?"

"I like pudding."
He shook his head. "You are completely ridiculous."
"And?"
"I hear they found you with a sword. What happened,

Taka?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Oh?" He pulled a flower petal from his pocket and

set it down on the bed covers in front of me. "I think I
might surprise you."

"Daisuke…"
"You don't have to explain a thing, Taka. Though, I

suspect I'll have to at some point." He stood up and
leaned over the bed. "For right now, you focus on
recovering. Okay?" He was incredibly close to me.

"O-kay."
"Good." He kissed me. He kissed me in a public

place. I felt my face flush. "Why don't I get you that
pudding?"

"Pudding."
"We'll talk later."
"Okay." There was something going on here. I think I

might've been out of my depth.

"And don't worry, I admitted you under a false name.

So relax, the yakuza won't find you."

That he could've figured out from the tattoos. "Okay."

But, the youkai, not so much. Who the hell is Daisuke?
"Thank you."

"You're welcome."
Once the pain medication wore off, I was going to be

a lot less Zen about all of this. I picked the flower petal
up and stared at it.

"Well, I guess I wasn't hallucinating then." I wonder

if this hospital serves sake. I was going to need it.

End.

If you liked this book you might like: The Night

Shift, The Hanged Man’s Ghost, Poisoned Spirits

Ame

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Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / July 2012

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