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First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN
Text copyright © 2017 Jason Rohan
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
First e-book edition 2016
ISBN 978 1 4052 7062 5
Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1455 6
www.egmont.co.uk
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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To Anoop, who was there at the beginning
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Glossary
Back series promotional page
‘Kenny! Over here!’
Kenny Blackwood pushed the cafe door shut and wove his way between crowded tables to where his classmate Stacey Turner sat, ensconced in a booth by the mirrored wall.
‘You’re late,’ she said, narrowing her eyes before Kenny had even slid into the seat opposite. ‘And don’t tell me the train was delayed – trains are never late in Japan. Let me guess, you missed the stop. No? Forgot something? How many times –’
‘I came out of the wrong exit, that’s all,’ Kenny said. ‘It took me a while to realise and I had to double back. You should have told me it was the south exit.’
‘And you should have checked first.’ Stacey blew a rubbery pink bubble and ran her finger down the coffee-shop menu. ‘What are you having? My treat.’
Kenny leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. ‘You’re being unusually nice. What do you want?’
‘Kenny Blackwood, I am shocked that you would think such a thing,’ Stacey said in mock horror. ‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’
She raised a finger to summon the waitress, who glided in to take their order.
‘I’ll have an American coffee and a slice of green-tea cheesecake,’ Stacey said. ‘And a royal milk tea for him.’
‘So what’s the big mystery?’ Kenny asked, once the waitress had gone. ‘We could have had a coffee at school. Why here?’
Stacey picked up the menu again and pretended to read it more closely. ‘It’s haunted.’
‘Huh?’ Kenny’s eyes swept the coffee shop. It was bustling with college kids and high-school students.
‘It’s true,’ Stacey said, lowering her menu shield. ‘You know me. When have I been wrong?’
‘Well, there was that time –’
‘It’s a rhetorical question. Anyway, check this out.’ Stacey delved into her backpack and extracted a slim folder, which she handed to Kenny.
‘I can’t read this,’ he said, flipping through the newspaper cuttings inside. ‘My Japanese is still nursery level.’
‘I know. That’s why I translated it for you. Look in the back.’
Kenny knew better than to argue with Stacey. His classmate was top of the year in everything, including self-esteem.
By the time he had finished reading the dossier, Stacey had drained her coffee and was demolishing the cheesecake. ‘Well?’ she said, chasing an escaped chunk round her plate. ‘What do you think?’
‘I’m thinking you have some weird reading habits. Two guys commit suicide in the restroom of a bar. Why is that something you want me to . . .? Wait. You think this is the same place? It’s not.’ Kenny opened the folder to a crime-scene snapshot. ‘The layout is totally different.’
Stacey sighed. ‘Kenny, Kenny, Kenny. When will you learn not to doubt me?’ She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘After the first guy killed himself, things went quiet for a while, but then business started to come back. When the second death happened, people stayed away and the bar eventually closed. Then these guys bought it, remodelled it and relaunched under a new name. It’s the same place all right. I checked the address and the deeds of sale.’
‘You did? You’re even more nuts than I thought.’
A pink bubble popped in reply. ‘Here’s what I think is happening: two years ago, on this same day, at 16:44, Mr Kishibe went to the toilet. Furthest cubicle on the end. Six hours later, at closing time, the owner saw that the door was still locked and forced it open. He found Mr Kishibe.’
‘I read that, yeah.’ Kenny sipped his tea and tried not to picture the grisly scene.
‘Last year, same day, same time, a Mr Moteki went to use the bathroom. He also went into the same end stall, locked the door and was later found dead.’
‘And the police said both cases were suicides. So why are we here?’
‘Kenny, who kills themselves in a pub toilet? Besides, they didn’t find a blade . . . either time, so how could they have done it?’
Kenny tilted his head. ‘You think there’s a rogue yokai in there?’
‘I know there is. Now, since you’re one of the few people who can see these things, are you going to do your stuff and deal with it, or do I have to call in your friend Sato?’
‘Shh.’ Kenny looked around and leaned in close enough to touch foreheads. ‘You know you’re not supposed to talk about that,’ he whispered.
‘Oh, please. Like anyone’s taking any notice of us. Listen, it’s your job, isn’t it, to stop these things? You’re like a one-man yokai police force.’
‘It’s not only me –’
‘We don’t talk about her.’
Kenny fumbled for his phone. ‘I should check with Kiyomi first.’
‘Can we just leave your psycho girlfriend out of this?’
‘She’s not my girlfriend.’
‘At least you didn’t say she isn’t psycho.’ Stacey tapped her watch. ‘It’s 16:38. You’ve got six minutes, so get in there and hold that stall. If any monster comes in, you can teach it a lesson.’
‘No way.’ Kenny finished his tea and stood up. ‘Thanks for the drink, Stace. If I knew this was what you had in mind, I wouldn’t have come. You have no right getting involved in this stuff.’
‘Kenny, people have died. Think about it. If I’m wrong, then nothing happens: no harm, no foul. But if I’m right and you walk away, then anything that goes down is on you. You want to read about some dead guy tomorrow, knowing you could have stopped it?’
‘All right, all right,’ Kenny grumbled. ‘I’ll go have a look.’
Stacey smiled her approval. ‘I’ve saved you a bite of my cheesecake. That’ll be your reward.’
Kenny took a deep breath and stepped into the narrow toilet cubicle which housed a traditional squat toilet.
This is so stupid, he thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head. I can’t believe I let Stacey talk me into this.
Ever since she had uncovered Kenny’s secret life as the bearer of a divine sword and a warrior sworn to keep monsters in check, Stacey had been itching to find ways to get involved, searching for unusual news stories and trawling the internet for urban myths, much to Kenny’s annoyance. He checked his watch: 16:43. A minute to go.
Even though he was pretty sure this was a waste of time, he could at least take advantage of where he was. Kenny unzipped his fly — and an ice-cold hand clutched his shoulder while a voice breathed in his ear.
‘Will sir be wanting the blue or the red option?’ it purred, its breath as foul as an open sewer.
‘YAAH!’ Kenny jumped, sploshing one trainer into the toilet and spraying his jeans. He hastily zipped up and whirled round, to see nothing but a blank wall.
Two hands grasped his shoulders and the voice asked again, ‘I repeat, which option will sir be having, the red or the blue?’ There was a harder edge now, clearly demanding an answer.
Kenny staggered round in a circle, but the thing, whatever it was, remained unseen. ‘What are you?’ he said. ‘Show yourself.’
The air seemed to condense into a vaguely human form, outlined by the drape of a long red cloak with a thick hood covering the face. It floated, without legs.
‘Last time,’ it insisted. ‘Blue or red?’
‘How about dead?’ Kusanagi, the sacred sword, materialised in Kenny’s hands and he lashed out, striking cleanly to slice the spectral creature in half. It shimmered as the sword edge penetrated, but the katana passed harmlessly through and bit into the tiled floor with a clang.
The thing re-solidified and dead hands clawed outwards from the folds of its cape, the fingers flattening and elongating into gleaming, razor-sharp blades.
Kenny pivoted backwards and struck again, before slipping in the confined space and dropping to one knee. The creature flickered again, shifting its density round the blade, and closed in, slashing the air with its deadly claws.
‘May I observe that sir has neither the space nor the speed to harm me in here?’ Red Cape said. ‘I, on the other hand, have both.’
Kenny instinctively raised his arms as a furious whirl of flashing blades ripped towards his face. Head down, with eyes closed, he heard the scream of metal, like a buzz saw grinding against steel, and felt a tingling in his arms.
Opening one eye, Kenny saw Red Cape backing away, its claw-like fingers mangled and bent. His own arms were gleaming chrome, with the ragged shreds of his shirtsleeves dangling from his elbows. Without thinking, he had channelled the element of metal to transform his arms.
‘Sir has some tricks,’ Red Cape said. ‘But so do I.’ It flickered again, fading like a shadow, before re-forming with its ruined blades restored.
Kenny jumped up and swung the sword in a wild arc, missing the creature completely. Kusanagi sliced through the tiled wall, severing the copper pipes that ran across the divide. Water hissed into the cubicle, spraying the air.
‘That was careless,’ Red Cape said, wagging a scalpel-like finger.
‘Let it go,’ Kenny said, raising his voice over the fizz of escaping water. ‘You can’t hurt me and I can’t hurt you. Call it quits and get lost. Leave these people alone.’
‘Oh, no. The guilty come to me for punishment. No one is innocent – not even you.’ It thrust its dagger hand towards Kenny’s chest and he jumped back, slamming against the door. ‘Besides, I don’t take orders from gaijin.’
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ Kenny coughed, wiping water from his eyes. ‘If you had a nose, you’d know something was wrong by now. Hear that hissing sound? It’s not just water. Let’s see if you can dodge – this!’ He snapped his fingers, producing a single spark.
WHOOMPH! An explosion ripped through the toilet as the pocket of leaking gas ignited. The blast smashed Kenny through the door, still protected by his metallic form. He glimpsed shredded fragments of Red Cape burn into nothing.
With his eyes streaming and his ears ringing, Kenny staggered back into the coffee shop, shouldering open the door which was now hanging by one hinge. Everyone stared, open-mouthed. His clothes were in tatters and flames filled the passage behind him.
‘Wooh! You do not want to go in there!’ Kenny said, fanning his hands to clear the air.
Before anyone could respond, Stacey ran forward, grabbed him and steered him straight out of the front door.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
‘Hnh? Whuzzah? ’ Kenny pushed himself up on one elbow, his mind lurching towards wakefulness. Blinking his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he fumbled for his watch.
04:09. In the morning.
He sat up. Stifling a yawn, he wavered between flopping back down to sleep or investigating the source of the noise. Drowsiness won and he slumped back on to his warm futon.
BANG-BANG-BANG! The front door rattled with the urgent pounding.
Fully awake now, Kenny jumped up and threw off the duvet. A strip of light blinked on at the base of his bedroom door and he heard his father, Charles, trudging along the hallway.
Scrubbing his hairline with his fingers, Charles unlatched the door. It slammed inwards, catching him on the ankle, and a Japanese girl in biker leathers stormed past him.
‘Oww! Kiyomi, what’s with all the hammering?’ Charles muttered, hopping and clutching his bruised bone. ‘Do you have any idea what time –’
‘Where’s Kenny?’ Kiyomi’s clenched jaw and the flash of anger in her eyes stopped Charles mid-hop.
‘Kiyomi?’ Kenny stood in his bedroom doorway. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Why don’t you tell me?’ She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
‘Uh, Dad. It’s OK,’ Kenny said, catching his father’s look of concern. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘Really?’ Charles said. ‘Not from where I’m standing.’
‘We need to talk,’ Kiyomi hissed at Kenny. ‘In private.’
‘Fine, but I don’t see why this couldn’t wait until the morning,’ Charles grumbled, pointing to the living room. Kiyomi marched past, with her boots still on.
Charles dipped his head closer to Kenny’s. ‘You two aren’t going to fight, are you? I mean, literally fight, as opposed to just arguing?’
‘Dad!’ Kenny said, throwing up his hands.
‘OK, just asking. I don’t need the place trashed.’ Charles stifled a yawn. ‘I’m going back to bed, so try to fight quietly.’
Kenny padded into the lounge where Kiyomi was pacing like a caged tigress. She rounded on him, stabbing a finger at his nose. ‘What have you done?’
‘Whu-? ’
‘Don’t act stupid with me.’
‘It’s not an act.’ Kenny jerked his head away from the accusing finger and ran through the hundreds of reasons Kiyomi might be angry with him. Had she heard about him tackling Red Cape alone? Did he forget to text her? Had he left the toilet seat up again? He had no idea.
Kiyomi grabbed a handful of his T-shirt, marched him backwards towards the sofa and pushed him on to it. ‘Sit down, shut up and hear what we have to say.’
‘We?’ Kenny looked around in bewilderment until he spied a fat, furry, raccoon-like animal waddling in from the kitchen area, an open packet of roasted-squid-flavoured crisps in its paws.
‘Hey, I was saving those,’ Kenny objected.
Poyo spat a mouthful of chewed potato on to his paw and offered it to Kenny.
‘Ugh. No thanks.’
‘Do you mind?’ Kiyomi snapped at the tanuki, who retreated back into the kitchen.
Kiyomi strode over to the balcony windows and stared out into the dark Tokyo night. ‘I just had a dream,’ she said, ‘or nightmare more like.’ A shudder ran through her slender frame and she wrapped her arms round herself.
Kenny sat up at once, fully awake. Dreams were not to be taken lightly; he had learned that the hard way.
Kiyomi continued, her voice flat and emotionless. ‘I’ve been to Yomi once, if only for a few minutes, so trust me, I know Hell when I see it.’ She shuddered again. ‘It’s a dark, desolate, empty wasteland infested with every kind of filth and vermin.’
‘This was your dream?’ Kenny asked, eyes wide with concern.
‘I said to shut up and listen.’ The city lights beyond the window sparkled in Kiyomi’s dark eyes. ‘In my dream, I was flying through the Land of the Dead, zipping over the earth until I came to this palace made of bone. It’s the only building of any size, so it’s obvious who it belongs to: the Lord of the Underworld. Do you know who that is?’
Kenny swallowed hard. He sensed that something bad was thundering towards him and there was nothing he could do to avoid it.
‘You can answer,’ Kiyomi said.
‘No, um, never heard of him,’ Kenny lied, hoping to protect her.
Kiyomi spun on one boot heel. ‘Well, he damn well knows who you are! In fact, he’s on first-name terms!’
Kenny’s heart sank. This was rapidly going from bad to worse. ‘Uh, was there any more to your dream?’
Kiyomi’s jaw tightened and her eyes drifted into the middle distance, while she replayed the vision. ‘The palace doors go up a mile. They’re so high that I can’t see the top. Anyway, I stand at the entrance, with this freezing-cold wind howling. And there’s this . . . this moaning and wailing sound, of dead people – and guess what happens?’
‘A pizza delivery guy shows up?’
Kiyomi grabbed an eraser from the desk and hurled it at Kenny, bouncing it off his forehead.
‘Oww,’ he protested. ‘Sorry, I can’t help it.’
Kiyomi took a deep breath. ‘So the doors swing open and this . . . rotting thing . . . ushers me in, like some kind of zombie butler, and says that his Lord is expecting me.’ She held her hands out in Kenny’s direction, as if pleading for help. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ve been summoned . . . invited. Me personally.’
Kenny absently wiped a cold sheen of sweat from his brow.
‘Inside, the palace is a crumbling ruin,’ Kiyomi said, ‘all decaying glory. I’m taken through this maze of corridors to the throne room, high up, and there’s like a thousand oni standing there, all waiting for me.’
Kenny scowled, trying to picture the scene.
‘And you know what they do?’ Kiyomi’s voice went up almost an octave and a grimace of horror twisted her face. ‘They bow. All of them. They bow – to me, like I’m one of them.’
Kenny’s head spun and he felt dizzy. ‘But . . . I thought –’
‘No, Ken-chan, you didn’t think. You never think through the consequences of your actions.’
‘What actions? What exactly am I supposed to have done?’ Kenny shrugged. ‘Uh, back to the oni . . .?’
‘Yeah, the oni. Half of those guys should be queuing up to tear me apart, after I sent their sorry butts back to Hell, but no. Now they’re treating me like long-lost family. Then the doors open and in comes the Storm God himself, ruler of the underworld.’
‘Susie?’ Kenny breathed, firing a glance in Poyo’s direction.
‘Susano-wo himself. He comes over, takes my chin in his hand and kisses the top of my head. Ugh! It’s so disgusting. A centipede is crawling through his hair and a freaking cockroach plops on to my shoulder.’ Kiyomi closed her eyes tightly and grimaced at the memory.
‘Does he say anything?’ Kenny asked, dreading the answer.
Kiyomi nodded. ‘You bet he does. He says, “Welcome, child. Any friend of Kuromori is a friend of mine. How is young Kenny? Has he forgotten me and our arrangement?”’
A cold chill ran through Kenny. ‘But this is a dream, right? From your imagination? Maybe it’s post-traumatic stress –’
‘Shut up,’ Kiyomi said. ‘After the dreams you’ve had, you think I don’t know when the gods are sending a message?’
‘But . . .’
‘I haven’t finished,’ Kiyomi warned. ‘So then he takes out a bronze mirror, about this big.’ She held her palms out, marking a space roughly as wide as her shoulders. ‘And he shines a beam of light on it.’
‘Let me guess,’ Kenny interjected. ‘He says, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”’
‘Close,’ Kiyomi said, her voice cold. ‘He says, “Show me the resting place of the Yasakani no Magatama.”’
‘The what?’
‘It’s the Jewel of Life. The image in the reflection changes to show the surface of the ocean, then it shifts to the seabed.’
‘The bottom of the sea?’
‘Uh-huh,’ Kiyomi said. ‘And then Susano-wo looks at me and says, “Tell Kuromori he has four days to bring me the precious Stone of Life or our bargain is at an end. My patience grows thin.” He holds up his hand and shows me this white jade ring on his finger. It’s the twin to that ring you gave me – the red jade one. “Tell him to remember our agreement and honour it,” he says, “or I will reclaim my prize.” And then . . .’ Kiyomi stopped, her breath catching in ragged gasps. ‘And then . . . he punches his claws into my stomach and rips out this . . . white, glowing mist.’
‘Your soul,’ Kenny gasped.
‘My ki,’ Kiyomi corrected. ‘That’s when I woke up.’
Kenny rubbed his face with both hands. ‘That’s some nightmare all right.’
Kiyomi remained by the window, shaking. ‘It wasn’t a dream, Ken-chan. It was a message – from a god.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ Kenny asked.
‘Because . . .’ Kiyomi pulled out her phone and scrolled through the photo gallery. ‘When I woke up, I found this . . .’ She handed Kenny the phone.
He stared for a few seconds, uncomprehending, before his mind finally made sense of what he was seeing. The picture showed a bedroom wall and scrawled in mucky red fingerprints to form large marks and symbols, was:
Kenny zoomed in on the photograph and his stomach lurched as he recognised the sticky drips and spatters that formed the writing. The message was written in blood.
Kenny felt the acid tang of bile in the back of his throat. ‘Whose blood?’ he croaked.
‘Not mine, if that’s what you’re asking,’ Kiyomi said, snatching back her phone, ‘although it was all over my hands. Took ages to clean off and I had to wipe the walls down with bleach. Nice way to leave a message.’
Kenny blanched, unable to clear the image from his mind. ‘If it’s not your blood, then . . .’
‘Don’t be such a baby. I checked the fridge and there was a packet of wagyu steak missing.’
‘You wrote that?’
‘Duh. Hello, Sherlock. Looks like someone can make me write in my sleep as well as walk. Aren’t I talented?’
Kenny rubbed his eyes. ‘Am I allowed to get up now?’
Kiyomi gave a curt nod. Kenny stood and went over to the workstation by the window. He picked up a notepad and jotted down the symbols.