On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

Nkosi Khetho, Cape Town, South Africa

“Rha!” Nkosi swore loudly, through there was bitter humour in it. “That pygmy chimpanzee is showing off again.”

“Now, great Nkosi, ruler of the heroes of South Africa…” Zozibini, his right hand woman, spoke sweetly, yet Nkosi knew better than anyone, under her sexy, secretary-like exterior, she was an antlion, just waiting to pull prey under the surface and devour them. No, a spider suits her better. Still, with her beautiful and sultry body, impeccable face, and charming, seductive voice, many a man would gladly throw themselves into her webs and jaws.

“…there was no need to say such in front of a lady, was there?” she chuckled, nodding at the guest who was hosting them, Lindiwe. She was a slender, frail-looking woman still, even after her recovery, but her hair having been restored by the… Ether Healing… as she called it, now long and beautiful, her dark skin glowing like ebony, she was a rare beauty.

“Oh, pay it no mind. I… know how noble brother Nkosi is now…” Lindiwe smiled sweetly, and Nkosi nodded, pleased that matters between them had… settled somewhat… after the events which had led to his consolidation of a large portion of South Africa and some areas of the surrounding counties. Though there are always holdouts. Rhino-fucking idiots. If the events of the last few weeks haven’t shown these dung-for-brains fucks the way the wind blows, we’ve got no use for them as anything but spider food…

“…and his swearing is more an… affectation… a personal style, than any attempt to be harsh or cause offense. Besides, for someone striving to do his best for our country, I can pretend I didn’t hear.” She giggled softly, charming in a white sun dress and broadbrimmed matching hat, and for a moment, Nkosi blinked.

“You are too magnanimous, Lindiwe. You have a kind heart, that despite everything, our dear leader’s crude words and threats notwithstanding, you would host us so openly.” Zozibini gushed, and Nkosi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Rha! Laying it on rather thick, woman? But I admit… having her and her family onside has its benefits… and I wouldn’t hate it.

“Of course. And I do hope you enjoy it.” Lindiwe’s manners were impeccable and smile radiant. She had dismissed her servants, a mark of respect that Nkosi likewise approved of, as it was also practical. None of the guards that even a rich company like Kumba-Stillwater could hire would be any use against even Zozibini, to say nothing of himself, the African Lion, Qamata’s Fist, the Xhosa’s Revival…  I hear they’ve been courting some of the holdouts, the cowardly hyenas who want to see which way the fucking wind is blowing. Don’t blame them for trying, but… waste of money and effort. Rha, any piece of hippo shit who can be bought isn’t worth that dung when the fighting starts. I hated that rhino cock-sucking fuck Dino, but he and his group at least had some guts…

Pouring some tea herself from what Nkosi guessed was expensive porcelain, she then took a sip first, proving it was safe. Zozibini was next, and as she praised the tea, he took a long swig. It wasn’t bad, still, tea wasn’t his beverage. Not very African…

“It isn’t… all for pleasure, I am afraid.” Lindiwe offered some delicate cakes, which Zozibini seemed to very much enjoy, her blood-red lips curving into a smile, dark eyes expressing her delight, though Nkosi knew better than to trust her reactions, as the damn woman dissembled as easily as she breathed. A perfect spider. And a perfect one to follow Anansi, the trickster. Though sometimes she gets caught in her own webs, just like the little shit did in the old tales.

Lindiwe took a deep breath. “You must have seen the news, or noticed something…”

Nkosi grimaced, nodding. The cakes were too sweet for him, but he was hungry, so he ate anyway. “Yeah, our fucking chimpanzee is at it again. Lit up the whole of the ancestral land, skies are still boiling. Rha. The fucker can’t help but show off.”

“Jealousy ill-becomes you, noble Nkosi.” Zozibini soothed him, the many tribal beads around her neck jingling and rattling softly, though Nkosi knew the true threads Zozibini were wearing couldn’t be seen, and would strangle the unwary. “Besides, the way you are staring at poor Lindiwe here is making her very uncomfortable. Why, she might get the impression you like her…”

As Lindiwe stammered and blushed, Nkosi bit back the urge to grab Zozibini, turn her over his knee and spank her. I’d be able to do it, but she’d get her revenge tenfold. Rha! Nothing is colder or crueller than a woman’s retribution. Our rutting chimpanzee might learn that lesson too. What a day that would be. I’d drink the umqombothi that day…

“She’s a fine woman. And I’m a conqueror, Zozibini. Only natural I’d be interested.” he declared without shame, puffing out his chest with pride. With his handsome face, muscular torso, bare apart from his multitude of beads, and his close-cropped hair like fire, he knew he was a handsome mtyholi, and with his increased power base now that Dino and his motley band of hippo fuckers were gone, and it seemed Midas had been strangled by Zozibini’s schemes… I’m a great man, she could do far worse.

“I see. But as I recall, you were rather vocal on she and her father.” Zozibini pointed out the uncomfortable truth, and he scowled. Rha. Pissed off already are you? Jealous? No need to be…

“How did you put it, noble Nkosi? Ah, yes… Hili of the Amambalu, and the raping of our mother, the land. Even now…”

“Enough. Peace, Zozibini. We were all… heated in the moment.” Nkosi tried to explain. “Though I very much doubt Qamata wishes us to rip the heart from the fucking world, all to build the sort of shit and trash that fills the fucking homes of the rich and idle. The Xhosa must return to their roots, Africa must be free!”

“If I may…” Lindiwe’s delicate hand was trembling as she took a sip of tea, but her obvious fear only impressed Nkosi more, as bravery was the keystone of the Xhosa, and his way of life, what Qamata, the highest God, demanded.

“…the African continent as a whole has never been one, and… never shall be. Just as the Xhosa, the Zulu, Swazi… have their differences, and have fought against each other even before the modern age…” she was sweating, but her tone was even and her words calm, showing she was well educated. “…to think of those to the north… Arabs, such as those from mighty Egypt, Berbers… generations of interracial settlers… simply being one nation. I fear it is… difficult.”

“Egyptians. Yeah. Rha! Fuck those arrogant fucks!” Nkosi grumbled. “Think they’re not camel fuckers just because they have the backing of their Gods. Before Qamata, their Ra can go eat elephant shit!”

“I think you should remain calm, great Nkosi.” Zozibini warned. “As a woman, let me tell you, Lindiwe will think less of you…”

“Oh, no.” Lindiwe did an admirable job of shaking her head, though the rattling of her saucer gave away how intimidated she truly was. “I… understand, and my father and I, we… approve of noble brother Nkosi’s efforts to stabilise the region. We’ve seen chaos, and… it is nothing good.”

“How wise you are.” Zozibini chuckled pleasantly. “Indeed, and this Church has deep roots here we need to pull out. To do that… allies are needed. That is not all we have learned from our mutual Japanese friends…”

“Are you friends?” Lindiwe asked sharply. “I don’t think you parted on… good terms.”

“On the contrary.” Zozibini shrugged. “We simply used each other to get what we want, The Golden Emperor and his wife gone, no longer a threat, troublesome elements neutralised… yes, there were some… unfortunate incidents, but we are not enemies. No, just as Anansi plays tricks, sometimes he falls prey to them himself. But when the great famine comes, all must work together. And while Anansi is greedy, who can refuse to gain five fish, even if Anansi shall have ten? Though…” her smile was suddenly a little self-conscious. “…in this case, the spider might have to settle for the five, and give ten. The Threads of Fate are fragile, but still tied.”

“I see. It’s just… we have an agreement, and… that time is now.” Lindiwe’s voice was soft. “A representative of Mr Oshiro has been in touch, with a request for the raw materials and ores we promised in exchange for my recovery. But I know that will surely annoy you, noble brother Nkosi, the one South Africa looks to in this time of crisis… yet, breaking our promise…”

“Breaking word is easy.” Zozibini pursed her lips. “Anansi’s words are ever mixed with lies, and the tricked oft deserve their fate. Yet… it is wise to be wary of who one lies to. And who one breaks faith with.”

Nkosi had been listening, and then spoke, though it didn’t immediately seem relevant. “Our ancestral land is growing… just like how he’s doing it… but… it will take years, even enacting tribute. At this rate, protecting all of South Africa, to say nothing of Botswana and Lesotho… Rha! A fucking dream. I’m not one to fear a fight!” he pounded his bare chest. “Nor hardship. If Akio didn’t kill Midas and that fuck Dino…”

“The Golden Emperor is not dead, merely fled…” Zozibini softly corrected him. “…though Golden no more, just as Anansi stole the golden treasure from tiger when he found it, by using the lake to reflect a silver one, and tricking him into falling in and drowning.”

“Rha! It doesn’t matter.” he ran a hand through his short hair, frustrated. “My point is… we’d have done what we needed to. No fear of that. But… fucking bastard.” I don’t like giving in, but… I have to do what’s best for the cause. “I don’t want your cunning schemes to anger the tiger.”

“That’s a little more flattering than chimpanzee…” Lindiwe giggled, a little relieved, and Nkosi puffed out his chest.

“He’s nothing if not a promiscuous, rutting brute. Rha! But I suppose… I can’t hold it against him. Isithembu, the many wives, are an old tradition. And as he who will be the Great Chief, the King… a ruler must have capable women by his side.”

“Is that so?” Lindiwe giggled. “Speaking of Kings, it seems he’s to marry the Imperial Princess of Japan, and rumours say Britain too…”

“A powerful, capable man will attract many…” Zozibini agreed, and Nkosi frowned.

“Don’t you be letting your own webs trap you, fool of a woman.” he warned. “Rha! I can’t keep the motley crew of hippo fuckers we have in line without you.”

“Maybe you should put that in a sweeter, kinder way, noble brother Nkosi? Sister Zozibini might prefer that more…” Lindiwe giggled, back on safer ground.

“Oh, noble Nkosi is a great man, the man South Africa needs in these troubled times, but he has no tact, no delicacy.” Zozibini agreed with open mirth. “And what he was trying to say is… keep your agreement with Akio Oshiro, he who dances upon the Threads of Fate. We will eke out what benefits we can, but… such Threads are fragile, and it is as great and noble Nkosi intimates, I have no wish to be strangled, ending up slain as Anansi has in many a story. For I am not a God. I cannot simply return to life. Though…” her smile was now wicked. “…Anansi’s tales are always fair. Through wit, cunning, luck or knowledge, the outcome can be shifted, to the winner, the prize. Perhaps to claim some of the melon, I shall have to risk being trapped within it, and taken to King Bear? I am confident my wit would allow me to escape, but…” She winked playfully, and Nkosi swore.

“Rha! Don’t set me against him like that, woman! Am I so good-natured you think you can fucking taunt me to my face? In front of…” he instinctively glanced over at Lindiwe, only to see Zozibini twitching her fingers, and he knew he’d been swindled, trapped in one of her minor tales. Face heating up, he growled at her. “Don’t think you can fucking play me like that, woman. But…” Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself.

“I’m not a man who likes breaking faith. I like foreigners less, but… I fucking loathe ingratitude more than I do outsiders. Without honour, there is no Xhosa. So yes, keep your deal. I… like to think of it as a price that our mother, the land, won’t mind paying, so that your wait to bloom at last is over.”

As Lindiwe looked down shyly, Zozibini raised one eyebrow, and mouthed that his words were ‘very poetic, unusual for him’ and he felt his own heat rising. Rha. What a bitch, mocking me! But… I think Lindiwe might just be as her name indicates, one I have been waiting for…

“Thank you. Your words are… kind…” she stammered, and he was a little pleased to see she didn’t recoil from his pointed words.

“Yes, I’m fucking kind, for sure.” he agreed. “Anyway, I’m not actually here to flirt, so… let’s get down to business. If you’re free afterwards though, maybe we might?” he asked, and Lindiwe managed a shy nod.

“Fucking great… I mean… that’s wonderful.” He corrected himself awkwardly. “My point is… we can’t do what he can, or rather…” he glanced at Zozibini, and she explained far more eloquently than he could.

“What handsome and persistent Nkosi is saying…” her barbs were light-hearted, but still stung, especially after his criticism of Akio’s promiscuity, which was hypocritical, considering old Xhosa traditions. “…is that while we can do what he can, the scale and speed leave us far behind. My Threads tell me the… overtness… of this act should have been rather subtle, yet due to a number of woven strands, the whole world shall know of it, knows it. Therefore, great Nkosi can’t be left behind, our home can’t be left behind. Some small… flexibilities… must be allowed.”

He nodded. “Yes. I don’t fucking like it, but pay what you owe. I… don’t think the fucker is just greedy for money anyway.”

“That’s right.” Lindiwe agreed, thoughtful. “I’ve assurances our mineral resources will be put into technology to reshape the world into a greener, healthier one. After all…” her smile was oddly teasing, and Nkosi felt his respect and curiosity, and honestly, his desire, rising, as she dared to toy with him.

“…he wants a beautiful world for those he loves. I think that’s just what you were seeking, isn’t it, noble brother Nkosi? Though he does it with far better manners…”

Rha! “Fuck me, you’ve quite the sharp tongue. Maybe you could be Zozibini’s apprentice…”

“I’d appreciate not having more troubles.” Zozibini shook her head. “But I would hate you to get the wrong idea. Noble Nkosi here is taken by your charms, and doesn’t merely wish to tie more spider threads to Akio through your connection. Though he would be delighted if you could use this chance to transition away from mining, make your wealth in some other way…”

“Money. It won’t save anyone when the dark times come. No, what we need is to be strong, to make the land strong.” Nkosi declared grandly. “That must be how our chimpanzee is doing it. Though I have rather more… noble… intentions…” Keeping his language clean was a struggle, but… I don’t want to fuck this up now. Warming to what came after, he found himself grinning. “…than merely to make life nicer for my harem…”

“Do you have one…?” Zozibini whispered loudly, and he grimaced at his careless words.

“…I mean, my goals are noble, honourable. And… you can do the right thing, by stopping your exploitation of the land, our mother, helping to heal the hurts of we fools who dig too deep, and who reap too selfishly. If we do that… then his back isn’t so far out of reach…” There. Spoken like a gentleman.

As Lindiwe nodded, Nkosi found himself grinning. Rha! You may be ahead of me now, Akio, but… just as you have Japan, I’ll unite South Africa, and many other countries. This game isn’t fucking over yet! Though… let’s keep it rather more friendly this time. Not a fucking slaughter…

***

Buck Kelly, Kelly’s Haven Bar, United States Of America.

“Here’s to our boy, my lucky charm, Akio! Cheers!” Buck uncorked the plain, yet artfully coloured bottle of green glass he was holding, a hiss of steam and a sweet, otherworldly scent rising from it. Pouring the creamy golden liquid within into two glasses, both measures generous, he pushed one over to the woman sitting before him, the professional and tidy Jennifer Connors.

As usual she had her hair tied up, and was wearing half-rimmed glasses and an expensive suit, and on seeing the glass, she pursed her lips. “A bit early in the day for alcohol, isn’t it?”

“At Kelly’s, it’s always time for a quick nip of the good stuff, Jennifer. Besides…” he smiled winningly. “…we’re celebrating, aren’t we? Now this is the best, one of the bottles of the Fae mead I kept for my own private use. This stuff goes for a grand a sip back in the bar.” He winked, tasting the rich, warming honey mead, the flavour comforting, like a mother’s embrace, or a sweet lullaby. That sure does hit the spot. Nothing like the taste of success together with the best booze…

Seeing Buck drinking, Jennifer followed suit slowly, and he was delighted at the way her eyes widened as she tasted it, and she took a second, longer sip. Swigging more of his own, he offered a top-up, which she accepted, and he refilled his own glass.

“Cheers! To the man of the hour!” he raised his glass, and Jennifer, after a moment of hesitation, also echoed him, and after the glasses clinked together, they both took long sips, before their gazes strayed back to the TV in the office at the flagship and first site of the franchise deal with Akio and Shaeula.

“The man of the hour indeed…” Jennifer agreed, watching the broadcast. “…certainly the eyes of the world are once again on Japan. Though what they are revealing is a little… troubling… don’t you think, Mr Kelly?”

“No need to be so stuffy, Jennifer. This isn’t work, you know.” Buck laughed, and she pushed up her glasses with one finger in embarrassment, a gesture which amused him.

“I suppose it still feels like it.” she admitted, though peering at her glass, she had a complicated expression on her face. “This isn’t before the dotcom bubble, or the housing market crash of oh-eight. Drinking strong alcohol at lunch isn’t really an acceptable practice now. Still, thanks to your introduction, Buck…” he smiled as she spoke his name. “…I am the woman of the hour. And James Takehashi too, I suppose. Big profits guaranteed, it seems.”

“Yes, your year end bonus is secure, for sure. But your question, the answer is simple. It’s not like this wasn’t coming. And you of all people should be aware. After all, you’ve seen many things. But me… oh, my Irish blood is boiling, I’m excited. And not just for the great booze I never dreamed I’d taste…” As it to illustrate his point, he refilled his glass. “…no, it’s the dream of all men to see a magical world, isn’t it? We Irish and those of us of Irish descent as well. After all, there’s nothing more Irish than the Tuatha Dé Danann, you know? I don’t think there’s much coincidence here. We’ve seen that the Seelie Court, as they call it, is full of Faeries. I’ve talked to a drunken Leprechaun Princess about business, seen many beings that our ancestors from the old homeland would only talk about as jokes or in hushed whispers.”

“I get that. But it’s still a little… worrying, isn’t it?” Jennifer asked, oddly vulnerable, and Buck nodded, understanding.

“Change always is. Not like my ancestors, both in Ireland, and here in America, hadn’t both been on the side of the conqueror, and the side of the conquered. That’s why we’re lucky.” He pointed to the TV, where a number of beautiful young Japanese women were explaining the dangers of possible land expansion and Fae visitors, reassuring the populace it would be at worst some minor inconveniences in the shorter term. “We’ve got Akio in our corner. The transition will be a kind one, I reckon. He’s not one for seeing others suffer, is he? I don’t see a war between the Fae and us. And you know what, Jenny?”

She jumped at his overfamiliar address, before shooting him a cold glower. “You’re already married, Buck. You may be a friend of his, but don’t think you can emulate his love life.”

Buck laughed uproariously, and they both drank deeply. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny.” he stroked his golden wedding band. “She’s the love of my life, and Buck Kelly isn’t no heartbreaker. That said, I don’t like it when people criticise my man Akio. They’re all adults and in love. Who are we to throw stones? The world could use more love, I think.”

At her nod, he made his point. “My point is… we’re already coexisting. And you and your bank are helping with that. Your loans, you see? Big money, helping him get ready faster.” He poured them another glass, the bottle starting to get low. “It’ll be a good thing. I can’t keep up with demand, there are only a few bottles in each bar, unfortunately. But now… soon seems like I’ll be able to secure a lot more. For personal use too…” He flicked the bottle idly, a ringing tone humming. “…anyway, take a look.”

He grinned, turning on one of the internal cameras, revealing the new Shaeula-themed bar. The barmaids were all in yukata, and the back wall was covered in a mural of what Buck would term the fair folk, a beautiful moonlit vista full of sparkling firefly Pixies and Sprites. What drew the eye though, was a metal cutout of Shaeula, her smile inviting and charming.

“Take a look…” he offered, and Jennifer frowned as she watched a young man being cheered on by a group of rowdy drinkers, even this early in the afternoon. Shyly, the man approached, and leaned over, pressing his lips to the cheek of the metal cutout, before darting backwards. Half of his friends were now cheering, the others booing, and over the speakers, Jennifer caught something about ‘…luck not being in today…’

“I… don’t get it…” she asked, and Buck laughed loudly.

“Oh, it’s simple. A rumour has gone around that planting a kiss on the Shaeulas in our bars is good luck. Though if anyone tried that on the real Shaeula, our doll would snap them in half.” he chuckled. “Or worse, Akio’s a jealous man. It’s kind of charming, don’t you think?” At Jennifer’s rather chilly glare, his chuckles returned, and he flapped a hand to wave that off.

“Relax, Jenny. Anyway, I’ve installed small, powerful quiet electric fans behind the Shaeula standee. They come on at random, and the most interesting rumour is that if you kiss the image of Shaeula when the wind blows, it means you’ll have good fortune. So they’re commiserating him that the wind didn’t blow, and cheering that he had the guts to kiss it. Though the bravest go for the lips. Must be hard, having a celebrity wife or ten! Akio’s going to have to live with that sort of jealousy, but he’s a big man, he can handle it.”

As Buck drank, enjoying the joke, Jennifer was deep in thought, and as realisation dawned in her eyes, he pointed back to the screen showing the feed from WTV, ignoring the noise from the bar, as another brave reveller tried his luck with kissing the graven image. “You see? Akio, and Japan as a whole, they’re humanising the Fae and those like them, Jenny. Not making them like us, not like that, but… showing they are beings we can talk to, understand, laugh with…” he pointed to the monitor viewing with the bar. “…drink with. Look up to, envy, love…” he shrugged. “…are celebrities really. No different to crushing on a Hollywood star. They may not be exactly like us, but… they’re close enough to count. And I’m doing my part. Every Kellys’ sees the same thing. Though to be honest, I’m also making a lot of money and connections too, so… a win-win, as my lucky charm likes to say.” Tapping the last few drips out of the bottle, he smiled, face red. Jennifer was equally tipsy, and Buck felt a little sorry that she wouldn’t get much more work done today, but a star of Chase Midas Gold like her… she’ll be fine. Besides… learning a lesson here about Akio’s dream will benefit her…

“The point is, beautiful women, songs, entrainment, documentaries, treating it all like reality TV, dallying with Princesses and more… it makes it all exciting, and what’s exciting isn’t to be feared or hated, Jenny. No, it’s to be followed, praised, supported… maybe even worshipped. Those Church fellas…” He made the sign of the cross, rather annoyed. “…I can see why they feel threatened, by the Lord, Mary and her only Son… he surely wouldn’t approve of what they’ve done. But… this is the only way to have peace. And it all begins now. You know, that little firecracker Hinata is very clever. Oh, I must mind my manners. The Japanese find being called by their first names rather rude unless we’re close… though she’s a businesswoman through and through, she’ll swallow that annoyance to please her audience. You know…”

Jennifer was hanging on his words now, and he was warming to the subject. “It takes a bold man to let a woman hold the reins in any area, you know? Too many men would feel threatened to let a girl, no less a young doll like her, control his money and business interests like she does. It’s part of why I like him. We with the Irish blood in us know how to treat a woman. Ask my wife.”

“Maybe I will.” Jennifer sighed, eyes back on the two displays, before she drained the last of her glass. “You make a good point. And… while I believe Princess Mikasa is not particularly influential in Japan, or at least she wasn’t, up until recently…” Face red, she kept on reseating her glasses, even though they didn’t need adjusting, and Buck tried not to laugh, face also crimson with the effort. “…Princess Eleanor, despite being the least public of the younger Royals, was near-universally adored, and with revelations of her… her… heroics… yes, that’s the word…” Jennifer hiccupped a little. “…that has only increased. With her onside… or… in his bed…”

Buck failed to hold in his laughter now, as the booze brought out a crudity he’d never heard her express before, not even in the few occasions they’d spent time together outside of work. She shot him a sour look, before glancing at the ceiling, lost in thought. “…if she can share, then they can’t be so bad, can they? We… we’re going to reinvest. The senior board don’t want quick profits, no matter how weighty, not now. It’s like you say, Buck… the world’s changed. Having the right people with the power to… change the… world… look on us with favour… is worth more than… money… oh, I feel sick…”

“I’ll get you some water. Relax. The Fae stuff is smooth, you’ll soon recover.” he promised. Fishing out a bottle, he passed it her way, and she gratefully swigged the cold liquid.

Worth more than money, you think? I totally agree, Jennifer. I totally agree. As cheering echoed, he glanced at the screen to see one lucky girl, as it happened, face red, having kissed the Shaeula, her skirt fluttering up and exposing her legs as the fans switched on at random. Buck grinned. Of course, I think it’s we who might owe our lucky charms more favours, but… between friends, there’s no true owing, is there? Only a little helping hand now and then…

***

Ichijou Kira, Tokyo, Japan

“I see you’re up then, Shige.” Kira chuckled, as the video call connected, showing the face of his long-time friend and pillar of the nobility. “Of course, we old men don’t need our beauty sleep, especially not now. And the lightshow would have woken the dead.”

Shige nodded, his white hair thicker than before, the Chirurgery and subsequent boosts to their… Statistics, as Mayumi called them, seeming prouder of her newfound knowledge day by day… ensuring their good health, and likely a number of years of extra longevity. It’s not so important for me, my son is ready to take over Ichijou house, and my grandson is also competent, but Shige… his sons…

“Of course. It is sooner than expected, but the time has arrived.”

“It has. I bet you’re jealous Akio-kun called me, rather than you. Honestly, it is a touch unusual but considering it’s Ichijou house’s time to step up, with our partnership ready to bear fruit… I expected Mayumi to be calling me already, but she’s probably enjoying herself at the ceremony. Perhaps we should have gone along too? No, that would just make the youngsters uncomfortable…” Kira trailed off, seeing that Shige had a rather unusual expression on his face. “Is there… some sort of problem? You and Akio-kun haven’t fallen out, have you?”

“No. It is just…” Shige frowned, brownish-black eyes narrowing uncertainly. “…Miyu is acting rather strangely. If I did not know of her nature, I would see her as having developed feelings…”

“Oh. Yes. That.” Kira chuckled. “You surely knew what would happen if you let the boy take charge of her. He’s even charmed my Mayumi, which I thought impossible. Not in that way, though. She… simply feels safe around him, ever since South Africa, and she is terminally nosy, bossy and curious, and he and Hinata-chan indulge her, probably more than they should, and can do it on the level of an equal, which she sees so few as. But in Miyu-chan’s case… she is a Chosen, and an important one, and… well, look on the bright side.”

Shige nodded slowly. “Indeed. We all seek our ties. We… backed the right horse in this race. Or rather, I did.”

“Come now.” Kira chided jovially. “When it comes down to it, Mayumi’s fully entangled with them. And it’s finally ready to start, the reformation of Japan, and our reliance on foreign materials, oil, gas and more coming to an end. More importantly, our prominence on the international stage continues to spike.”

“All true. Yet… it was Fukumoto… no, Takatsukasa Hinata-chan who brought Akio-san to me, while you managed to recruit some rather useless fellows…”

“Best start getting used to calling him grandson-in-law…” Kira couldn’t resist teasing, and the flat look he got in return made him chuckle. “I know, I know. They weren’t the… most… effective. I had felt that the gap between Chosen couldn’t be that large. But, it seems I should trust the experts more. There is no point rehashing old arguments.” Though perhaps if Miyu-chan has fallen into Akio-kun’s clutches, it might be why he called me first. Guilt, perhaps?

“Seriously, the situation is better than we could ever have anticipated. This… Adamant. At first it seemed rather crude, but Hinata-chan is nothing if not clever and easily able to see the best way to profit. Nearly every member of the Three-Hundred with an eligible noble daughter has been pushing for them to volunteer, when ordinarily it should be death to the reputation or marriageability of any girl who wears that uniform. After all, there would always be whispers Akio-kun has taken their chastity. But for those who eagerly accepted our rules and many restrictions for the chance of their families being counted as true nobility several generations hence, this sort of gamble, it’s an easy choice to make. And we haven’t discouraged it. After all… your Miyu-chan… unprompted…”

“Yes. I agree.” Shige sighed. “Still, other than a few we manoeuvred to him for valid reasons, those of the Fifty-Eight are reticent about their precious daughters and granddaughters being seen as such, so despite Hinata-chan’s efforts, there remain plenty out of his clutches. My Miyu… is not one of them.”

“Nor Honoka-chan. Though I suspect that issue might resolve itself. Akio-kun is many things, but I don’t believe he would stoop so low as to devour her, not at her tender age. In time, perhaps, the sins of the father won’t weigh as heavily on her… and she might be free to build a future that pleases you both. Of course, there’s always the danger…”

“That is a worry for the future. Though now we have the leisure to think of it.” Shige admitted, echoing Kira’s earlier thoughts. “My death should not come soon, barring accident or assassination, a luxury a few months ago I could hardly dream of. Even Itsuki is hale again…”

“Ah, poor Itsuki. He has it rough. We should contact him after this.” Kira commiserated. Still, while the decline of Takatsukasa house was hardly all on him, he should have kept a tighter leash on his son. And… it’s his misfortune, or perhaps fortune, that Hinata-chan shares his blood. So his lineage goes on, and his house rises again. Really, that is all we can ask, in these troubled times.

“Indeed. The time… is now.” Shige insisted. “While there is some disdain for our noble customs within him, and his tendency to treat those such as Miyu or your Mayumi-chan the same as even commoners is somewhat galling, we have done enough to justify the existence of what we treasure. He has found favour in the greenhouse flowers we raised…”

“…perhaps more than we thought…” Kira couldn’t help but murmur, and Shige ignored his quip.

“…and sees their elegance, beauty, charm. Yes, just like the Japan we wish to protect. Perhapsmhe will dismantle the glass walls that keep them pure, but… he still sees that much of what we did is for good reason, and worth protecting. Likewise, traditional culture, arts, craftsmanship, faith… all of that he accepts. If we have to lose a little, compromise somewhat, to uphold the majority, then… we have succeeded, and our ancestors will know we did our best.”

“Right.” Kira laughed, rubbing at his own head of white hair. “It’s not about the money. Though don’t mistake me, wealth is a form of power, and… so long as everyone accepts it has meaning, it does. We are trying to keep Akio-kun and those like him within the game, the tacit acceptance of rules everyone obeys. The law only binds because people believe it does. That if you steal, or murder, the police come and take you away. You invade, and the JSDF fights back. If you want something, you pay for it, and if you desire money, you earn it. But that’s a polite fiction. It always has been. Though now the mask is off, and after tonight… it might never go on again.”

“Indeed.” Shige sighed. “For the good of Japan, many things happen in the dark and with silence. Koga Takeshi and his ilk, even my Fujiwara Security Services, have done dark deeds against the law, for the greater good. Every country does it. Though some overstep.”

“Indeed, our American friends.” Kira agreed. “But yes, the world is a series of polite, functional fictions, all meshed together. But when a gear slips, the whole thing breaks. Akio-kun doesn’t have to follow any rules. There are ways to restrain him, perhaps, such as threats to his family, yet… it isn’t a plan I’d countenance. Besides, I owe him for protecting my Mayumi during that nasty mess. I hate being ungrateful, Shige.”

“As do I. Miyu has bloomed, and is not the same shy, too-fragile girl I feared would not be fit for leading Fujiwara house. Honoka, though still confused and grieving, has found purpose and comradeship… and Japan stands strong, despite many threats. So we have to accept that he sets the way the game is played. Unless someone can take his crown. And any such clash… would devastate all we hold dear.”

“Exactly. Our currency is influence, and the future. In the now, we can spend all other assets freely.” Kira then sent over the data and plans Akio-kun had. “If we want it, we have to pay for it, because it’s he who sets the rules of the game for Japan going forward. The Pilgrimage has proved the shrines and temples agree with us. I can only hope the Imperial Family avoid being too reckless, for…” I don’t want to say it.

Shige had no such reluctance. “Indeed. The debacle with the Regalia was a shocking catastrophe, motivated by Prince Gorohito’s inability to understand that the unwritten rules are all torn up, and his jealousy. It seems Princess Mikasa is won over thoroughly, and… Arisugawa Arisu… she is truly a woman who sees behind the polite fiction, to Oz beyond the curtain, no wizard, but an empty illusion. Anyone who wishes to defeat Akio-san must first find a way to seal her grasp on the public’s emotions. Everything WTV puts out only further entrenches the public’s favour, and not just his.”

“Yes, the programme on Hinata-chan was rather charming.” Kira agreed. “I quite agree, the woman is a marvel. And after she was betrayed, forced to see that the rules only protect those with power, she has learned the right lessons. Fortunately, so have we.”

Shige nodded. “Yes. The die is cast, the Rubicon crossed, the curtain torn down. This is the first day where everything changes, perhaps more so than even the day the truth was revealed to the world. For on this day… Japan becomes a mythical land once again.”

Indeed. It’s not easy on my heart, I’m glad I’ve had Chirurgery else my son and grandson, my Mayumi, might be mourning me having dropped dead from shock. But… I can’t deny that it’s exciting, and like Shige, I’m a pragmatist. If we have to give ground to win the future, then so be it. There’s no fighting this tide and winning, and even if we did… the victory would cost us too many of those we cherish, who would stand against us. Then, Kira’s thoughts turned lighter. It’s lucky then we’re not the fools who have to weigh that choice. We have our ties to the new world, and can seek more. It’s… an enviable position to be in. Though those who bet on others, on unpredictable allegiances… I daresay they are not enjoying the spectacle this night, not at all…

***

Uchida Ren, somewhere in Japan…

Watching the television, the smug, supercilious face of that whore Arisu Arisguawa, and those worthless, wretched idol bitches, Ren resisted the urge to throw his glass at the screen. Barely.

“Why is it always him? That fucker, that bastard. And… Kannon, fuck her, the miserable slut. There are no worthy Gods.” Glaring out of the window of the small room he was holed up in, the dark of the night hard returned, after the distant glow which had woken most of the town, attracting many curious onlookers, some wondering if it was a distant explosion, others considering if it was the end of the world, at least until the J-Alert System had triggered, pinging everyone’s phones, hijacking every broadcast.

Ren had been awake, of course. He seldom slept well, not since his son was betrayed, and what little sleep he did manage had been stolen from him by the failure of the Church of True Revelation to avenge him, to avenge those in Susanoo who felt the same pain he did.

“…no need to be worried. Again, as we have stated, expect a detailed map showing areas of concern, but the chances of any expansion or overlap affecting your property or place of work is small, and if it occurs, the Ministry for Spiritual Matters helpline is open, and we will dispatch trained specialists, who can evaluate any risks and also the benefits. Such sites can be sold to the Ministry for above market rates, though obviously we have no intention of forcing anyone to vacate their homes or businesses, we are simply being flexible…”

Arisugawa was narrating in her perfect voice, and Ren fantasised smashing her face in, of leaving her in a state worse than Yamato, of cutting the tendons in her wrists and ankles, and tossing her screaming to a baying crowd, for them to treat her like the human excrement she was. Anyone that sides with that smiling piece of shit should just die! Why… “Why didn’t they just die?”

Ren’s voice echoed plaintively, louder than the television for a moment, and he quickly poured himself another glass of shochu, his hands shaking, and the fiery sip numbed him inside a little, paradoxically. “They were supposed to burn his Tree, kill his little whores, who get to live in happiness while Yamato is gone.”

More shochu, and the reflection of his gaunt, pale face on the screen of the TV shocked him. In only days he’d aged further, the sweet fruit of betrayal and vengeance turning rancid, poisoning him with only regret. “And now… now he’s risen to such prominence. If I take what little Yamato told me, and those worthless Church cretins, who only managed to hand-deliver him more presents, just like Yamato… I wanted his sister dead most of all. No, not dead, that’s far too kind…” he was slurring his words now, anger and alcohol a bad combination. “Let her be a toy of every man in Tokyo, let Akio feel the pain I’ve felt, of having a precious person ripped away and tormented! She’s a thieving slut anyway, taking what was Yamato’s. Goddess of Mercy? Hah, no such thing. Kannon’s simply another fake bitch shedding crocodile tears…”

Drinking more, he discovered the bottle was empty. He swept it off the table, where it fell amidst the wreckage of his bitter current life, empty noodle pots and food wrappings all over the carpet. Scrambling around for more alcohol, he glowered at the television, before finally finding a can of beer. It wasn’t strong enough for his tastes, not tonight of all nights, but it was alcohol, so he cracked the ring pull, mist hissing, and took a bitter swig.

“Useless. Their attacks failed, achieving nothing but making the bastard even more popular! Now nobody is talking about all his crimes and selfishness, about my son! God is powerful, the True Revelation is the way… what a crock of shit!” Crushing the can in his hand, beer scattered everywhere, and he hissed in annoyance, only to pause, as he spotted someone sitting quietly beside the wall. When did… how did… they get here?

“Peace.” The man, or at least Ren assumed so, from the voice, spoke. The tone, and the figure, wrapped in white robes and hooded veil, was androgynous, little to be seen except the pale blue, almost grey eyes, which made Ren twitch, remembering Akio, who he hated with every fibre of his being. “I mean you no harm.” His Japanese was perfect, crisp and almost without an accent. “Though you should probably not take the name of God in vain. He can be most… wrathful… about that.” The man chuckled, a faint, rasping sound.

“Who are you? Here to take me in… no, you wouldn’t be. From the Church then? If so, get lost! I trusted you and yours, your promises, and exposed everything I knew, and this… this is the result!” Ren gestured at the TV and the window. “Failure upon failure, and he only grows stronger, feasting off our tears!”

“I can see why it would… appear… that way.” The man shrugged, the barest movement of his shoulders under the robes. “And yes, we very much wished to see that Tree fall. Trees are… loaded with meaning, and it is unwise to allow the forest beyond God to bloom. But many died, were martyred. I feel no sorrow for them. Nor should you…”

“I’m not sorry…” Ren spat, grinding his teeth together, clenching his jaw so hard the pain stabbed at his head. “…they didn’t get me the revenge I was promised, despite all my aid, all my knowledge. Instead, they just helped him grow stronger! If that’s what your God is capable of, then he’s no better than the raddled bitch Kannon! Didn’t you all say ‘aneye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ and ‘vengeance is mine, and I will repay’? I don’t see any repayment, just… just this!”

“Oh, very true. We… underestimated them. But only God is all-knowing, you see. We are but his mortal instruments, until we can ascend to the Ninth Heaven, and truly be eternal. Of course, while God declares, we plan, and just as Goliath seems unstoppable, David can still stand against him. You can be David.”

“I don’t see how, you charlatan.” Ren spat, and moments later, he suddenly shuddered, as the figure blazed with brilliant light, and his vision went white.  

“If the Lord does not provide, then turn to… another light, still cast from God. Though forged from fire, it refused to bow before clay, angering the Lord, but… the Lord is all-powerful, so how can that be so? Therefore… the light was purposefully cast aside, a flame to burn in dark places, where the Lord’s will, the faithful, cannot go. And now… now more than ever…” the man’s voice was hypnotic, and Ren found himself nodding along to the voice, mind calming down. “…what can bring down he who remains within the light? Only a greater light, without compromise, who shall never accept the dominance of clay…”

“I… am listening.” Ren managed, not realising his ears and nose were bleeding profusely, staining his soiled clothes crimson.

“Indeed you are, And just as a simple pebble from a sling can bring down Goliath, so too… can a small, humble effort from you achieve results. There are always plans within plans, behind the veil, and even if the first blades are dull, break, and their wielders fall… there shall be no backwards step, no surrender. Simply consider it… a test.”

“A test…?” his fury spiked again, but the next words drowned that out as if doused in water.

“Oh yes, but not your faith. Consider it a test for others, ones they failed, yet your hatred burns with a light that Iblis can see. He does not respect nor lend aid to clay, but fire, the light of vengeance… that he will look kindly upon. And he recognises the fallibility of all plans. Everything is a test, just as God tested the Angels, and bade them bow before we lowly creatures, men. And we men bow to the First. You… you bow only to the purity of vengeance, and it moved us. So, while our knives move in the dark, you can be the light that masks us…”

“I’m listening. Tell me more…” Ren repeated, and as the unknown man spoke, he felt his excitement rise.

It… it could work. Power… there’s no point trying greater power, they attempted that already and failed. But… yes. A mighty tree that resists the storms and gales might be felled by a simple infestation of tiny, weak bugs, and… like Goliath, who surely did not fear a simple stone… none of them will see it coming…since in one’s moment of greatest triumph, just like Yamato, true vulnerability lies…