Fanfic: Stairway To Heaven, pt. 3 (Get Backers, Ban/Akabane, #22 - "cradle")
(Would've liked to have posted this earlier, but stupid power outage made me wait. Ahh, the joys of living in a rural area...)
Title: Stairway To Heaven (part 3)
Author/Artist: Amethyst Hunter
Pairing: Ban/Akabane
Fandom: Get Backers
Theme: #22 - “cradle”
Rating: PG-13 (language, m/m)
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor ones for basic canon.
Notes: The tarot used is the standard deck; I tweaked it a little to provide suitable drama for Himiko's reading. ;)
- "Karawan" is an ancient Arabic expression meaning "to ward away the evil eye."
- The "Nan Kheper" that Akane and Ban speak of is a period of 5 nights in ancient Egyptian mythology wherein the principal gods and goddesses (Osiris, Horus the Elder, Seth, Isis and Nephthys (Greek ver.)) were said to have been created as a result of a wager by Djehuty (Greek: Thoth) that added extra calendar time. Generally speaking, the exact dates of this extra time vary, but they are usually agreed to have taken place sometime during the summer. Considering that Akabane's birthday is November 23rd, I fudge a little creative license here. ;)
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Akane Akabane though, is my own invention.
Summary: Himiko reflects on the mysterious no-man’s land that brought Ban and Akabane together, and a new path revealed sets into motion a revolution that will change everyone’s lives forever.
--
Had Himiko only known what was in store for her upon her return to the Honky Tonk she might have reconsidered her eagerness to bear witness to the grand unveiling of Akabane's mother. But as it was she was running late from her job - the client had insisted on treating her to tea afterward, and since he was important enough that appearances mattered, she'd had to humor him - and she was barreling down the road on her bike, breaking more than a few speed limits and risking further delay by traffic cop. She was determined not to miss out on the excitement this time.
There was little chance of that, she realized when she walked into the shop and instant chaos engulfed her. The Honky Tonk was a powder keg of battle, due in no small part to Ban and Shido Fuyuki, who were trading barbs and blows almost as fast as Ginji was rushing between them trying to get them to calm down, without much success. Natsumi and Rena, Paul's waitresses, were huddled in one corner giving the scene - which included more than a few busted dishes - wide eyes. Paul himself was crouching behind his counter, a grimace on his face attesting to his indecision as to whether his intervention would break up the fight or make it worse.
Kazuki Fuuchouin was sitting in one booth looking rather dazed. He was holding what appeared to be the shredded remains of some of his threads. Emishi Haruki hadn't fared as well; he was squirming at Kazuki's feet in the solid bounds of his own whip. Juubei Kakei was pinned to the wall by his flying needles in a rather undignified spreadeagled position.
Hevn the negotiator caught Himiko's arm as she gingerly waded into the fray. “I wouldn't if I were you,” she hissed, dragging the transporter to a safer corner of the shop. “You're liable to perfume yourself to death if that woman mistakes you for an enemy! She's some kind of witch, I swear!”
“What!?”
Hevn nudged her. “There.”
Himiko glanced towards the middle of the room where Ban and Shido were holding fisticuffs. Sitting at a table in the center of the fight-ring, looking for all the world a serene and perfect picture of zen incarnate, was the guest of honor whom everyone had come to see. Akane Paniwi Nebt-het Akabane's sharp purple eyes flicked once, twice, over the two men brawling. She quietly got to her feet, pulling every diminutive inch of herself straight as an arrow into full height, smoothed her birdlike hands down the front of her gray linen dress, and marched right in between Ban and Shido.
“Oh God, Ban - “ Himiko started to bolt for him to head off the collision she knew was coming, but Hevn held fast to her arm.
“Watch!” the negotiator whispered.
Ginji had had the same impulse as Himiko; unlike her he wasn't able to check himself in time and he stepped right into Akane's path. Before he could get one word out she held up her hand and made a slight flicking motion with her fingers. The next thing Himiko knew Ban and Shido had both gone flying across the room, though in opposite directions.
Ginji goggled at the sight and promptly retreated under the nearest booth's table. Even he knew when to back off.
Akane was smiling but the expression wasn't reaching her eyes. Himiko recognized the same steel intent as what Akabane often displayed when an opponent was annoying him. A shiver pricked the hairs on her arms as she realized what Ban had meant when he'd said earlier that she'd know what the woman was like when the time came. This was the unmistakable authority of someone who had lived and breathed pure power her entire life.
“You.” Her voice was low, mellifluous, cut in the same vein as Akabane's but with a distinctly feminine timbre. “And you. You stop this now.”
Shido was picking himself up off the floor by the front entrance. He was staring at Akane with a horror even greater than that he usually reserved for the times Madoka made an intimate request of him.
At the other end, Ban was shaking himself like a belligerent bull, looking stunned but not entirely surprised by the arcane backhand he'd just been dealt. “He started it,” he grumbled, pointing at his archrival.
“You lying snake bastard! You're the guilty one and you know it!”
Akane raised her hand again and snapped her fingers. Ban and Shido both jerked backwards, making incoherent grunting noises, and when Shido turned towards Himiko she saw that his lips had been sealed shut.
“No matter who started. You end. Now,” Akane warned, her accented voice chipping into colder territory when either of them made like they were going to protest. “See your friends?” She gestured to a wary threadmaster and his kin. “Smart boys. They know when not to argue! You be smart too and pick yourselves up. Such mess!” She clucked her tongue. “What will my son think when he comes?”
“Are you kidding, he'd be right there in the thick of it if he could,” Shido muttered when the silencing spell had been repealed.
Akane's eyes narrowed. “What?”
Ban's face curdled into wickedness. “Monkey boy here was just saying that he should've known better than to spoil such an important reunion with his big mouth. Right, Fuyuki?”
Akane raised a brow at Shido, who was biting back a mountain of curses he badly wanted to hurl at Ban. Instead Shido gulped down a heap of pride and grumbled, “Yeah, yeah.” Better to admit defeat and steal away to lick one's wounds than press the case too far and wind up in worse straits.
Kazuki was tiptoeing closer to Himiko. She met him halfway. “I can't believe she melted my threads!” he half-hissed half-whispered to her. “Nobody's ever done that before! Except for you,” he added, remembering the damage Himiko's flame perfume nearly did to him once in Mugenjou.
“Um, a little help here would be nice,” Emishi called out from his spot on the floor.
Akane glanced at the others and made a dismissive motion with her hand. Emishi and Juubei were subsequently freed from their respective bonds. “Behave,” she told them.
“Yes ma'am,” Emishi answered. For once his tone wasn't flippant, and he refrained from cracking any jokes about whips and being all tied up. Being almost throttled by his own weapon must have spooked some sense into him.
Juubei said nothing, only moved to stand behind Kazuki. His hands fumbled for a moment as he tried to decide whether to remain on alert or err on the side of caution to avoid further provocation. Himiko guessed that he hadn't been one of the first to throw any punches; he'd most likely incurred his punishment from misinterpreting an action as threatening to Kazuki.
Akane looked around the room, satisfied that the fight was concluded. She lifted her chin a notch and Natsumi and Rena promptly scurried over, dustpans and brooms in hand, to clean up the scattered debris. Akane turned her head a mere slight at Paul and he was hurrying forward with cups of fresh coffee in both hands, carefully ushering her to a seat at one of the back booths and cautiously inquiring if she would like anything to go with her drink. As soon as an order had been placed he shot off for the kitchen, clearly relieved to have something to do elsewhere.
Himiko blinked. She didn't think she'd ever seen the shopmaster act that deferential towards any customer he'd had. Usually Paul Wan ruled his cafe with an iron fist.
“I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it,” Hevn murmured near her ear. “She's really Doctor Jackal's mother?”
“Are you going to question her after that?” Himiko responded. Without waiting for an answer she stalked over to Ban and boxed him soundly on the side of his head. “What did you do!”
“Damn! One beatdown a day is more than enough, thanks!” He rubbed his face. “I didn't do anything! That idiot - “ he jerked a thumb at a glaring Shido - “opens up his trap and the next thing I know I'm in the middle of a four-ring circus with a couple of failed clowns!” Ban ignored the sour look he got from Emishi at that and called out to Ginji. “Hey Gin, you can come out now. All clear.”
Under the table a blond head carefully raised from a curled-up position. “Do I have to?” Ginji whispered, his gaze darting back and forth from Ban to other questionable parties.
Akane answered for his partner. “Gin-ji. Come eat. I order pizza for us!” She patted the top of the table.
“B-B-B-But I'm not h-hungry,” Ginji whined as tears leaked from his eyes.
“You wanna make her mad again? Go eat the pizza, chicken-eel,” Ban told him. “Never turn down free food when it presents itself!”
“Spoken like a true hog,” Himiko said.
“I prefer to think of it as 'gastronome,'” Ban said. “You gonna join us or what?”
“Would've been a fine sight for Akabane to show up and find all this,” Himiko said, watching the girls clear away the last of the mess as she followed Ban to the booth. “When's he due?”
“Called him before the free-for-all. He should be here any minute.” Ban lightly cuffed her on the back of her head. “You're late, squirt. If you'd gotten here sooner I could've had the pleasure of seeing the monkey king be the one to get smacked around instead of experiencing it for myself. Don't you answer your phone?”
“I couldn't help it,” Himiko grumbled, swatting at him. “The job ran later than I expected.” She was cut off from saying anything more when Ban suddenly escorted her front and center to the spot across from Akane.
“While we're waiting for Kuroudo to drop by, here's someone you might like to meet. Akane, my half-sister - “
“I know her.” Akane's face was impassive as she took in the new arrival with slow precision. Then her gaze suddenly softened to a surprising gentleness. “Daughter.” She rose and took Himiko's hands in hers.
At eye level they were the same height. Himiko was startled by the impulse seizing her, that this woman was somehow...known to her, though it was only by impression and not any concrete proof that she could focus on. But some inner awakening told her that this was a spirit ageless, one she was bound to through some as-yet inexplicable twist of fate. She felt as though in the space of a heartbeat she'd been measured, judged and found complete. She wasn't sure what to make of this. “I'm sorry, I'm not - I mean - “
Akane saved her the trouble of immediate pondering. “Child, I recognize a sorceress when I see one.” Her smile was broad and genuine. “Your brother is very proud, Himiko-san. He tells me many stories of you, how you work alongside my son Karawan.”
Himiko looked to Ban for explanation. “Karawan is what she calls Akabane,” he clarified as he scooted into his seat next to a petrified Ginji. “It's an ancient Arabic expression for warding off the evil eye, believe it or not.” Ban looked amused by that point.
“Aa, aa,” Akane nodded, a few tendrils of silver-streaked dark hair swaying loose from her bun. “That is his birth name. His father calls him Kuroudo,” she said, pronouncing the syllables with a halt. In spite of her imperfection with the Japanese language, she spoke it well enough that they had little trouble understanding her. “We decided that he should have names from the places he has lived to guide his path home. He was born during the Nan Kheper, after all.”
“Nan keper - what?” Himiko blinked.
“Period of extra time that didn't exist before, but was created for special purpose way back when, after an established timekeeping system had already been set up against total darkness where nothingness ruled,” Ban cut in. “It's when the principle gods and goddesses of Egyptian mythology were said to be brought into existence. Magic folk often use the dates as a reference point for spellcasting.”
Akane let go of Himiko and steered her into the window seat of the booth before resuming her own place. “Come, sit. We will talk more of my Karawan, aa? And you will tell me what is a 'poison perfume?' Ban-kun is full of mystery! Not good honest boy like partner Gin-ji. He hides too much, always sneaky, says I must wait to see my Karawan!” Akane thumped the tabletop with a dainty fist. “Soon we see if Get Backers deserve reputation - and proper reward.”
“Ulp,” Ginji managed, no doubt having ascertained in his mind what kind of 'reward' he was expecting to get.
“Sneaky saves the day when you least expect it,” an unrepentant Ban told their guest. “And if you think the electric eel over there's honest, you should see him on payday and I send him out to buy ten rolls of beef jerky and he comes back with only four!”
“That because you never feed him enough!” Akane scolded. “Poor boy, always he must fend for himself. No wonder he comes here. Greedy partner hoards everything!”
Himiko liked Akane Akabane. Kindred souls, they called it. She'd been thinking that the woman would be as cool and reserved as Jackal himself, and perhaps she was in her own way, but Himiko remembered Ban's relay about the past. There was plenty of desert spitfire to go around, and for once she didn't mind being called 'child', not when the speaker was addressing her with a kind of reverence that hinted at more than passing acquaintance with Himiko's chosen field.
And, too, Akane, she sensed, was like herself in how she arranged her relationships: formal and politely distant with strangers, relaxed with friends, and fiercely protective towards a select few fortunates. Himiko didn't want to dwell on any darker prospects - if Ban's wrath was devastating when it erupted, and Akabane's fury unfettered once the blade was struck, how much worse was Akane's rage when those calm waters were upset? Like mother, like son indeed. Or daughter-in-spirit, if not in blood...!
Himiko started to explain to Akane what poison perfumes were and how she used them when Ginji suddenly sat up and poked Ban. “Front door,” he hissed, his eyes shooting wide, and that was all the alarm that Ban needed.
“Oh is this gonna be sweet. Ginji, you know what to do.” He climbed out of his seat and grabbed Himiko's arm. “Come on, half-pint. We're the welcoming committee!”
She would have protested but by then he was hauling her forward, pushing at her back so she had nowhere to retreat. Resigning herself to the impending collision, Himiko set her sights on the approaching figure in black and hoped that today wouldn't be the day when she received a personal demonstration of how those Js were made.
“Kuroudo my boy!” Ban was in his element, working his showmanship abilities for all they were worth. “Have I got a present for you!”
Akabane paused to tip his hat in greeting at Paul Wan and politely request a cup of tea from Natsumi before greeting them. “A present? Why, how kind of you, Ban-kun. Do tell.” He smiled at Himiko. “Hello, Himiko-san. I trust that Ban-kun is behaving himself today?”
If you only knew, Himiko thought, trying to keep a burst of laughter from bubbling past her lips. Part of her wanted to blow Ban's surprise out of the water before he had a chance to launch it at his unsuspecting lover, but the other half of her was morbidly curious, and she knew she'd never get to see what she really wanted if she alerted Akabane prematurely to the scheme. Feeling a slight pang of guilt for the deceit she was about to help spring on him, Himiko smiled back.
“As far as I know he hasn't done anything to earn a sharp rebuke from you,” she said.
Akabane nodded. “Good. You see, usually whenever Ban-kun has an offering he wishes to make, it means I am about to receive some disappointing news,” he murmured, his eyes shifting to a knowing cast upon a grinning Ban.
“Not this time. You'll like this. It's a job, and the client specifically requested you.”
Akabane perked up at that - those clients who were familiar with his methods of operation almost always offered stimulating fare. “Interesting. Whom am I to contact?”
“Client's here in the flesh, wanted to meet you in person.” Ban paused, working up his coup de' grace. “See that lady sitting with Ginij, in the gray dress? Yeah. She has all the details,” he finished, just barely holding back the cackle threatening to spill into his words.
Himiko glanced over to where he was pointing. Ginji had rearranged their setting so that Akane had her back to the front of the cafe, which shielded her face from immediate discovery and made her look like just another ordinary patron. Sneaky, indeed.
“I see. Well, then. If you will excuse me, it looks like it's time to have some fun,” Akabane said, a chipper note to his voice that hadn't been there before, his delight now roused by the prospect of a good battle. He leaned over and kissed Ban's cheek. “Thank you, Ban-kun. I shall have to come up with something properly grateful in return for your lovely gift.” He nodded at Himiko. “A good day to you too, Himiko-san.”
“Think nothing of it,” Ban called after him. “All Jackals need a good workout from time to time.” He winked at Himiko and mumbled for her hearing only, “Nothing like a good jolt to the 'ol ticker to keep the bloodlines running, eh?”
They inched towards the back booth, and the rest of the Honky Tonk fidgeted in place as everyone watched, caught between a helpless fascination and a swiftly mounting unease. Shido in particular was edging closer to the front door, eager to watch his nemesis take a richly-deserved punishment, but prepared to make a break for safety if the knives started flying a little too thick for his comfort.
Ginji's face went ghost-pale the closer Akabane got, but to his credit he held his pose as ordered, until the transporter was almost to the table. Then he bailed out of his seat in a clumsy tornado of limbs, babbling apologies as he went diving for the nearest cover. “HiAkabane-sansorryIdidn'tknowanythingaboutthisIswearokaybye!”
Akabane blinked at the sudden whirlwind but wasn't much fazed; he was long since used to the odd reactions his presence encouraged in Ginji. He reached up, took down his hat and gave a bow to the woman he was addressing. “Good day, madam. I am Doctor Jackal, the transporter you requested. Would you like something to drink while we discuss business?”
Akane turned around and her face lit up like a Christmas tree powered by Ginji's electrical current. She threw out her arms wide to catch him in a hug. “Karawan!”
Akabane blinked. His eyebrows squirmed a little as he sought to process things. “I...beg your pardon?” he managed to get out before he was engulfed in the arms of the smaller woman. Akane wrapped her thin arms around him and squeezed as though he were a sponge and she was trying to wrench every last drop of moisture from him. Akabane looked up at the rest of the diner, then at Akane, then back up, then at Akane again, and finally at their audience.
Himiko felt sorry for him. He had the frozen, glassy-eyed expression of a gaping fish that had just been stunned by a swift blow to the head. And knowing the way that Akabane thought, it probably was a blow of sorts to him. For a split second she felt angry at Ban, for treating the person he was supposed to care for in such a callous manner, but thinking of Akabane again, remembering how he kept himself so calm and controlled, made her realize that decisive blows were probably the only way he could have handled such a shock without turning to a more homicidal denial.
Jackal doesn't handle emotions well, Ban had told her once. It's not so much that he doesn't want to - although that is part of it. It's that he can't confront what he doesn't understand. He sees foreign concepts as either objects of fascination to experiment with, or enemies to defeat. But you can't fight your own emotions like you can using weapons on a physical threat, and they're too serious to toy lightly with. The hardest battles of all take place in the heart and mind.
Judging by the blank slate of Akabane's face - only his eyes, shooting rapidly around the room as he struggled to take in the situation, revealed the turmoil of anxiety swiftly surging in rebellion - all-out war had broken out inside the no-man's land that served as his heart.
Himiko felt a wellspring of sorrow then, wishing she could offer him some support. She herself had grieved deeply before, raged in bitter futile fury once, and soared aloft with joy all too briefly in the past. But she could do so because she gave her emotions the freedom they deserved, and in the end she achieved the release she needed that gave her the greater strength to continue on. Akabane had spent God only knew how long suffocating that part of himself, and as a consequence, was being bludgeoned by the unfamiliar and conflicting and confusing instincts clawing for escape at his insides; the only release he knew was the carnage to be found in violent death. Only because Ban had taken the time to teach him a different route had the transporter begun to attempt toddling steps back onto a path that offered him a chance at real life, a hope for salvation from the darkness that plagued him.
“My lady - forgive me - perhaps you have mistaken me for another - “ Akabane said thinly, trying in vain to delicately untangle the vise clamped around his midsection.
“No mistake, my little one,” Akane told him. She reached up and touched his face, the contact jolting Akabane like a live wire. He made a little hiccuping noise and jerked backwards before his body seized into utter stillness - the blank fear of a prey cornered.
Akane did not fail to notice this, and her eyes clouded with pain, but she would not be deterred. She stroked her son's hair and said gently, “You know this to be true, Karawan. Long ago we were separated, you remember that night, yes? It break my heart, losing you to those defilers.” She spat wordless disgust for a moment, then went on. “But I know you fight them, I know you did not want to go. It not your fault. Never your fault. I always hold the place in my heart for my little jackal, never give up looking once I free from sickness. And now, because of Get Backers, I find you again.” The glow in her eyes radiated purple warmth.
Akabane looked ill. His eyes had taken on a glaze and his face was paler than normal. His throat muscles worked for a few seconds as he tried to form words, which pinched off in a near-whisper. “But...my mother...she is...she is...dead...I saw her shroud...the blood...” He sounded like a lost little boy.
Akane shook her head. “Not so. See?” She lifted one of her hands, which had been clutching at his. A thin line of red trickled down a slender finger. In his astonishment, Akabane's scalpels had burst free and were protruding from his hands, and Akane had accidentally brushed her finger over one of the blades. “Could ghost bleed like this?” She seemed amused by the prospect. “I am alive, Karawan. I come back for you.”
Akabane stared at the blood on her hand. He looked stricken, and Himiko wondered what must be going through his mind at that moment.
Akane dismissed the shallow cut with a brisk wiping of her hand on a napkin offered by Rena. “Ahh, but all this unimportant now. Past things are passed. I am glad this place is so nice for you. Foolish people - “ she shot a stern glower at the starers who had gathered to witness - “make mess, cause chaos! Not proper way to welcome you, not at all,” she tsked.
Shido could no longer hold in his ire. “Hey, everything was fine till the snake bastard butted in. What am I supposed to do, take it on the chin?”
“Among other places,” Ban snapped. And the fight was back on.
Akane sighed irritably. “Stupid men never learn!” She let go of Akabane and stepped past him, focusing on the scrabble between Ban and Shido, and said something in a strange language. In the next instant her eyes seemed to go black with menace, and Himiko felt a palpable chill in the air. But what crawled across her arm was nothing so benign as goosebumps, and she screamed when she saw what had just skittered over her forearm and leapt away to zoom in on the combatants.
Hevn grabbed her hand and pulled her up on top of the nearest booth seat, shrieking likewise, and it didn't take long for the rest of the Honky Tonk to follow suit. No one wanted to find out whether the floor now seething with hordes of scarab beetles was dangerous.
“Get 'em OFF ME!” Shido bellowed, frantically pushing the chittering insects off almost as fast as they crawled up his legs. “I HATE BUGS!!”
“She just called you a rancid bug turd,” Ban snickered, clambering his way to escape on top of the front counter where the critters hadn't yet invaded. “Have to admit, you sure smell like one!”
Akane fixed him with her lethal stare and hissed. “And you!” Another word, another spell, and Ban abruptly yelped and dove from the counter to the windowsill, as a cavalcade of the biggest, blackest scorpions Himiko had ever seen mushroomed from out of the top of the counter and sped towards him.
This, she knew, was no Jagan, no illusion. This was the real deal. She shuddered.
A new voice rang out among the din, sharp and cold, and she recognized Akabane's call to the scalpels. The Bloody Rain pinged off the ceiling and showered the scattering chitinous mass in a dustcloud of evaporating black mist. Akabane stood, trembling somewhat, at the forefront of the attack, pointing his hand as he directed the extermination. Akane turned to him with a delighted smile, speaking again those strange words she'd used before, and recalled the last of her spell. The beetles and scorpions dropped into ash that faded as quickly as it had materialized.
Four things happened at once then:
Ban, unable to hold in his mirth any longer, yelled, “SURPRIIIIISE!” from where he was clinging desperately to the ceiling -
Ginji, unable to restrain his burgeoning terror any longer, yelled, “PLEASE DON'T KILL ME AKABANE-SAAAAAN!” from where he was hanging on to Ban -
Paul, unable to contain his dread over the hefty bill for the dishes and furniture he'd have to soon replace, yelled, “NOT IN THE SHOP!” from where he was dangling off of Ginji's leg -
And Kuroudo Akabane, Doctor Jackal himself, transporter without fear or failing in the face of deadly adventure, dropped his hat, gave a tiny gasp of “MAMA?!” and fell straight back on the floor in a dead sprawling faint amidst a billowing black trenchcoat.
The silence in the aftermath could have cut stone to ribbons. It was cleaved only by the sudden onslaught of babbled conversation as patrons surrendered to their morbid curiosity, gathering closer at the scene of the crime.
“Blackmail material,” Himiko explained to a stunned Kazuki when he noticed her quickly taking out her cell phone and snapping pictures of her fallen cohort. “Like Ban says: never let a good opportunity go to waste!”
--
A good bouncer knows when to break up the party before the rowdier merrymakers get too out of hand. Paul Wan only ran a small coffeehouse in the middle of downtown Shinjuku, but he was no stranger to settling potential problems before they became serious melee' damages. As soon as Akabane hit the floor he was down and running from his squatters' safety net, grabbing all nonessential people nearest him and ordering them out the door, barking at Ban to haul the transporter to a booth and keep an eye on him.
Himiko waded her way through the protesting crowd, counting on her relationships with the primary scoundrels to grant her immunity from the enforced ban. She bypassed a squealing Hevn, who tried to clutch at Himiko's shoulder for purchase but was quickly removed via a sudden gust of wind that seemed to emanate from the same place as Paul himself. Himiko made it to Ban's side and helped him move Akabane to the booth.
“Tell me you got that. Tell me you got that!” he said, eyeing the open cell phone she still had in one hand. “I want copies, Himiko. One for every shocker that hit him! The thrill'll last me till New Year's!” he howled. “Goddamn, did you SEE that?! Now that's how it's done!”
Himiko had a feeling he wasn't just talking about Akabane's reaction. She too was keeping a wary eye on the mysterious Akane, awed by the scope of the magic she'd just beheld. Even Maria Noches, a grande dame sorceress herself, would have been impressed.
Ginji's terror was temporarily overcome by his fascination at having seen the dreaded danger be vanquished so simply. He'd climbed down from his hiding place and was hanging over the back seat of the booth by Ban. “I had no idea Akabane-san could do that!” he kept repeating to anyone within earshot, which, since Paul had just evicted most of the patrons, wasn't too many people.
Natsumi, clever girl, was now rushing forward with an offer of an icepack. “Poor Akabane-san! Maybe this will help!”
Only Akane showed no sign of distress. She looked puzzled by her son's reaction, but seemed to be taking things in stride. She sat down again and watched the flurry of activity around her, shaking her head silently as if to say, what a pack of fools. Himiko silently agreed with her.
Ban took the proffered pack from Natsumi and set it against the back of Akabane's head. “He did smack his gray matter a little harder than I'd thought,” he mused. “Hey Himiko, you still got those smelling salts on you?”
She fished around in her harness and found the bottle, handing it to him. “Your head,” she warned, stepping back out of the line of immediate fire.
“Pffft,” Ban answered, ripping out the cork and waving the open end of the bottle under Akabane's nose. “You get a load of the look on his face? He's too walloped to even think of bloody-raining me.”
The salts took a little longer than expected, but no more than several minutes passed before Akabane finally stirred. He winced and pushed at Ban's hand, turning his head away from the odious salts with a groan.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Ban told him, giving the bottle back to Himiko. “How you feeling?”
“Ban-kun.” Akabane's eyes darted anxiously around, taking in the sight of his lover, his lover's partner and his lover's half-sister all hovering over him. “What happened? I think I just had the most peculiar nightmare...” His eyes slipped shut as he reached up and felt the bump on his head.
“Easy, now. That's a nice shiner you'll be harvesting later.” For all his raucousness Ban was toning things down now, stroking Akabane's head to calm him. “You passed out. Can't say I blame you. Must've been a helluva shock, seeing your mom again after so long...”
“Ban-kun.” Akabane's eyebrows furrowed into confusion. “That's impossible. My mother's been presumed dead for years, ever since I was a small boy.”
Ban shook his head. “Think again. I know dead when I see it, and she ain't it. But I'll let her explain it to you.” He grinned then. “Thought I'd give you your Christmas present a little early this year.”
He moved aside and Akane got up from her seat to come forward. Her eyes swam in lavender satisfaction as she clasped Akabane in her arms once more. “My Karawan. My precious one!” She rained gentle kisses down on a very bewildered-looking Akabane's face. He was too startled to do anything beyond clamber to a half-sitting-half-reclining position on the booth seat.
“Ban-kun?”
Ban's grin had faded to a curious stare. “It's the real thing, Akabane. No Jagan, I promise. Ginji and I - “ he gestured to his wide-eyed partner - “found your mother while she was searching for you.”
“Is true,” Akane said, her small frame wrapped tight enough around Akabane to make breathing somewhat difficult, as if she feared he would fly from her on a spirit's breath. “I look always for you, Karawan. Never have I found you - until I find them first,” she said, nodding at the Get Backers. “These retrievers say they know you.” Abruptly she switched to a language that Himiko couldn't understand, rattling off a guttural series of sounds peppered with harsh consonants. She watched as Akabane's eyes grew wider, almost rivaling Ginji's saucer-eyed gawk, and then he started to babble in the same language, his voice not at all quiet and smooth but higher-pitched and fragmented, fraught with something she'd never thought he'd possessed - until now.
Ban didn't seem too surprised by the rapid fire of words exchanged in a foreign tongue, only with the power of the emotions accompanying them. He pulled out his cigarettes and lighter and started to fire one up.
Without breaking stride in her conversation Akane turned around in one fluid motion and swatted the implements from his hand before turning back to Akabane and resuming her speech. “I tell him to stop that bad thing!” she said momentarily in Japanese, before picking up where she'd left off.
Akabane was trying to keep up with her, gasping out portions of his side even as Akane chattered on, both mother and son unconcerned with interruptions so long as they weren't coming from outside sources. Himiko perceived a kind of rhythm to the language they were using, an enticing melody underlying the harshness, and she sensed that this language was a type of unique magic all its own. It made her think of endless deserts, and cold moonlit nights so pure one could travel as if in daylight, and sun so bright and hot the empty expanses would bake to cinders while the lush fields nearby drew their strength from the blue-green serpent of the great river that nourished them.
Ban nudged her. “Egyptian, mostly. Some of it's a dialect in the ancient ways. My grandmother had a set of old Egyptian spellbooks. It's pretty amazing stuff.”
Himiko couldn't take her eyes off the two people enraptured by each other. “How does Akabane know how to speak Egyptian?”
“'Cause he grew up there. You never really forget what you grow up with,” Ban said sagely. “That's why I said you don't wanna screw with Akane. Where they come from, that magic's centuries in the making. Percolated over time - others might've gotten there first, but they were the one really big civilization to establish a known empire in the ancient world. That's heavy-duty power we're talking here.”
Akabane was growing less agitated, his face alight with an unusual humanity as his voice eventually slowed and diminished in volume. Akane too was settling, her tone soothing while she held her son and touched his hair, his face. Himiko wanted to hug the both of them. She stayed put, surreptitiously swiping at her own face with a careless arm to stay the threatening sting in her eyes.
Ban looked upon them with ripe satisfaction, a pleasure from both having completed a job well done, and relief that things had progressed (mostly) the way he'd wanted them to. Even Ginji's worry was dissolving, and he leaned in to study the scene, his brown eyes warming to the reunion of family and a hesitant, flickering smile making its way over the edges of his lips.
“You should take your own advice,” Himiko told Ban. “I noticed you seem to have no problem provoking Akane!”
He made a face. “I'm a retriever, I'm supposed to piss people off. Anyway, we have an...understanding between us.” He looked down at the floor where his beloved cigarettes and lighter lay, the victims of the sorcereress's wrath. He picked them up and made as though he were going to light one, thought better of it and stuffed them back into his pocket. “And since I helped her get back her baby boy, that gives me a special immunity.”
A slightly rough clearing of throat drew their attention. Akabane, now mostly composed into something of a normal semblance for him, was looking at Ban with a raised eyebrow. “But not from me,” he said. “We will have a discussion later, Midou-kun.” He looked serious, but not overly upset, Himiko decided, which probably meant that all Ban could expect from his mate by way of punishment was a sound scolding at having withheld this information for so long.
Ban's sheepish shrug seemed to confirm this. He held out his hands. “Ah, you know I had to do it, Akabane. Now give your mom a hug. Don't you think she's earned it after all this time?”
Akabane's expression softened. “Indeed she has. Mama,” he said, an unmistakable happiness tinting his voice as he and Akane embraced. “Mama, I missed you so much...”
Akane smiled with him and kissed his forehead. “Aa. The grave in my breast is finally filled as well. No greater gift can the gods bestow to me than this - my Karawan, my brave strong Karawan.”
“It's Kuroudo now, Mama. Father insisted,” Akabane said.
“Aa. Yes, I know. But to me, you will always be my little jackal,” Akane told him with a little chuckle.
Ginji piped up from his place. “I bet Akabane-san was really cute as a kid, huh, Akane-san?”
“Oh cripes, now you've done it,” Ban groaned, just as Akane turned around and said, “But of course!” and whipped open her purse to pull out a small album of old sepia-tinted photographs. The openmouthed expression on Akabane's face was priceless when his mother flipped the little book open to show a picture of her smirking son at age four wearing a big black hat and a scuffed physician's lab coat, while Ginji giggled overhead and Ban rolled his eyes.
“It could be worse,” Himiko consoled a startled Akabane, patting his shoulder. “When Ban first came to live with us, my brother Yamato once showed him a picture of me as a naked infant in the bathtub!”
“Aa! I think have one of those,” the ever-practical Akane announced, sifting through the pages of the album looking for said evidence.
Sensing Akabane's rising discord Ban acted quickly to stem the tide of Js. “Um, Akane, I know this is kind of an awkward moment, but we could stand to take care of a little business first, if you know what I mean - “ He wiggled his fingers in a panhandling gesture.
“Midou-kun, really, how crass,” Akabane chastised, though not too strongly as he looked relieved to have been spared the embarrassment of further childhood revelations.
Akane looked up from her search and paused. “Ah, payment. Yes. You do your job well, Ban-kun. Very well indeed. You have truly earned this.” She opened up her purse again and took out a fat wad of cash. Ban's eyes boggled, and so did Himiko's. Ban's hand shot out to clutch the bundles of money that Akane was extending...
...which were promptly dropped into a surprised Ginji's arms.
“You go to grocery store,” Akane told him kindly. “Buy lots and lots of food. Not share with greedy partner who starves you! He can buy his own.”
Ginji squeezed the money and looked up at her with wonder written all over his face. He was in his own glorious personal shi no jundo, a pure and heavenly death by chocolate - and meat, and rice balls, and fruit, and anything else his synapse-spasming brain was crackling to list for immediate purchase.
“Half that dough belongs to me, buster!” Ban demanded, his right hand shooting out to take what he felt was his rightful share. The snap and sizzle of electric current forced him to remain penniless, however.
Sparks danced from Ginji's hair while he hunched over his prize, looking uncannily like Doctor Jackal as he presented a sinister smile and narrowed glare. “Now, Ban-chan. You wouldn't want to make Akane-sama angry again, would you? After all, I'm supposed to respect my elders by obeying their wishes!”
“Ginji-kun has a point,” Akabane said, an amused smile creeping along his mouth. “If Mama isn't happy, then no one is going to be happy. Hmm?”
“Not in the shop, please?” a weary Paul sighed as he took Natsumi's and Rena's hands and led them into the safety of the back storeroom before Himiko was treated to the sight of Ban expressing his very distinct lack of happiness squarely on top of Ginji's head.
“Mama,” Akabane chuckled. “Show Himiko-san what you do to people who won't listen to you.”
“My pleasure, Karawan.” Akane took Himiko by the hand and they followed after the snarling tangle of retrieval partners. “Now pay attention, child. I show you how to put fear of Seth into troublesome retriever boys. No one stirs bloody chaos like Lord of Upper Egypt...!”
--
TBC
Title: Stairway To Heaven (part 3)
Author/Artist: Amethyst Hunter
Pairing: Ban/Akabane
Fandom: Get Backers
Theme: #22 - “cradle”
Rating: PG-13 (language, m/m)
Warnings/Spoilers: Minor ones for basic canon.
Notes: The tarot used is the standard deck; I tweaked it a little to provide suitable drama for Himiko's reading. ;)
- "Karawan" is an ancient Arabic expression meaning "to ward away the evil eye."
- The "Nan Kheper" that Akane and Ban speak of is a period of 5 nights in ancient Egyptian mythology wherein the principal gods and goddesses (Osiris, Horus the Elder, Seth, Isis and Nephthys (Greek ver.)) were said to have been created as a result of a wager by Djehuty (Greek: Thoth) that added extra calendar time. Generally speaking, the exact dates of this extra time vary, but they are usually agreed to have taken place sometime during the summer. Considering that Akabane's birthday is November 23rd, I fudge a little creative license here. ;)
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Akane Akabane though, is my own invention.
Summary: Himiko reflects on the mysterious no-man’s land that brought Ban and Akabane together, and a new path revealed sets into motion a revolution that will change everyone’s lives forever.
--
Had Himiko only known what was in store for her upon her return to the Honky Tonk she might have reconsidered her eagerness to bear witness to the grand unveiling of Akabane's mother. But as it was she was running late from her job - the client had insisted on treating her to tea afterward, and since he was important enough that appearances mattered, she'd had to humor him - and she was barreling down the road on her bike, breaking more than a few speed limits and risking further delay by traffic cop. She was determined not to miss out on the excitement this time.
There was little chance of that, she realized when she walked into the shop and instant chaos engulfed her. The Honky Tonk was a powder keg of battle, due in no small part to Ban and Shido Fuyuki, who were trading barbs and blows almost as fast as Ginji was rushing between them trying to get them to calm down, without much success. Natsumi and Rena, Paul's waitresses, were huddled in one corner giving the scene - which included more than a few busted dishes - wide eyes. Paul himself was crouching behind his counter, a grimace on his face attesting to his indecision as to whether his intervention would break up the fight or make it worse.
Kazuki Fuuchouin was sitting in one booth looking rather dazed. He was holding what appeared to be the shredded remains of some of his threads. Emishi Haruki hadn't fared as well; he was squirming at Kazuki's feet in the solid bounds of his own whip. Juubei Kakei was pinned to the wall by his flying needles in a rather undignified spreadeagled position.
Hevn the negotiator caught Himiko's arm as she gingerly waded into the fray. “I wouldn't if I were you,” she hissed, dragging the transporter to a safer corner of the shop. “You're liable to perfume yourself to death if that woman mistakes you for an enemy! She's some kind of witch, I swear!”
“What!?”
Hevn nudged her. “There.”
Himiko glanced towards the middle of the room where Ban and Shido were holding fisticuffs. Sitting at a table in the center of the fight-ring, looking for all the world a serene and perfect picture of zen incarnate, was the guest of honor whom everyone had come to see. Akane Paniwi Nebt-het Akabane's sharp purple eyes flicked once, twice, over the two men brawling. She quietly got to her feet, pulling every diminutive inch of herself straight as an arrow into full height, smoothed her birdlike hands down the front of her gray linen dress, and marched right in between Ban and Shido.
“Oh God, Ban - “ Himiko started to bolt for him to head off the collision she knew was coming, but Hevn held fast to her arm.
“Watch!” the negotiator whispered.
Ginji had had the same impulse as Himiko; unlike her he wasn't able to check himself in time and he stepped right into Akane's path. Before he could get one word out she held up her hand and made a slight flicking motion with her fingers. The next thing Himiko knew Ban and Shido had both gone flying across the room, though in opposite directions.
Ginji goggled at the sight and promptly retreated under the nearest booth's table. Even he knew when to back off.
Akane was smiling but the expression wasn't reaching her eyes. Himiko recognized the same steel intent as what Akabane often displayed when an opponent was annoying him. A shiver pricked the hairs on her arms as she realized what Ban had meant when he'd said earlier that she'd know what the woman was like when the time came. This was the unmistakable authority of someone who had lived and breathed pure power her entire life.
“You.” Her voice was low, mellifluous, cut in the same vein as Akabane's but with a distinctly feminine timbre. “And you. You stop this now.”
Shido was picking himself up off the floor by the front entrance. He was staring at Akane with a horror even greater than that he usually reserved for the times Madoka made an intimate request of him.
At the other end, Ban was shaking himself like a belligerent bull, looking stunned but not entirely surprised by the arcane backhand he'd just been dealt. “He started it,” he grumbled, pointing at his archrival.
“You lying snake bastard! You're the guilty one and you know it!”
Akane raised her hand again and snapped her fingers. Ban and Shido both jerked backwards, making incoherent grunting noises, and when Shido turned towards Himiko she saw that his lips had been sealed shut.
“No matter who started. You end. Now,” Akane warned, her accented voice chipping into colder territory when either of them made like they were going to protest. “See your friends?” She gestured to a wary threadmaster and his kin. “Smart boys. They know when not to argue! You be smart too and pick yourselves up. Such mess!” She clucked her tongue. “What will my son think when he comes?”
“Are you kidding, he'd be right there in the thick of it if he could,” Shido muttered when the silencing spell had been repealed.
Akane's eyes narrowed. “What?”
Ban's face curdled into wickedness. “Monkey boy here was just saying that he should've known better than to spoil such an important reunion with his big mouth. Right, Fuyuki?”
Akane raised a brow at Shido, who was biting back a mountain of curses he badly wanted to hurl at Ban. Instead Shido gulped down a heap of pride and grumbled, “Yeah, yeah.” Better to admit defeat and steal away to lick one's wounds than press the case too far and wind up in worse straits.
Kazuki was tiptoeing closer to Himiko. She met him halfway. “I can't believe she melted my threads!” he half-hissed half-whispered to her. “Nobody's ever done that before! Except for you,” he added, remembering the damage Himiko's flame perfume nearly did to him once in Mugenjou.
“Um, a little help here would be nice,” Emishi called out from his spot on the floor.
Akane glanced at the others and made a dismissive motion with her hand. Emishi and Juubei were subsequently freed from their respective bonds. “Behave,” she told them.
“Yes ma'am,” Emishi answered. For once his tone wasn't flippant, and he refrained from cracking any jokes about whips and being all tied up. Being almost throttled by his own weapon must have spooked some sense into him.
Juubei said nothing, only moved to stand behind Kazuki. His hands fumbled for a moment as he tried to decide whether to remain on alert or err on the side of caution to avoid further provocation. Himiko guessed that he hadn't been one of the first to throw any punches; he'd most likely incurred his punishment from misinterpreting an action as threatening to Kazuki.
Akane looked around the room, satisfied that the fight was concluded. She lifted her chin a notch and Natsumi and Rena promptly scurried over, dustpans and brooms in hand, to clean up the scattered debris. Akane turned her head a mere slight at Paul and he was hurrying forward with cups of fresh coffee in both hands, carefully ushering her to a seat at one of the back booths and cautiously inquiring if she would like anything to go with her drink. As soon as an order had been placed he shot off for the kitchen, clearly relieved to have something to do elsewhere.
Himiko blinked. She didn't think she'd ever seen the shopmaster act that deferential towards any customer he'd had. Usually Paul Wan ruled his cafe with an iron fist.
“I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it,” Hevn murmured near her ear. “She's really Doctor Jackal's mother?”
“Are you going to question her after that?” Himiko responded. Without waiting for an answer she stalked over to Ban and boxed him soundly on the side of his head. “What did you do!”
“Damn! One beatdown a day is more than enough, thanks!” He rubbed his face. “I didn't do anything! That idiot - “ he jerked a thumb at a glaring Shido - “opens up his trap and the next thing I know I'm in the middle of a four-ring circus with a couple of failed clowns!” Ban ignored the sour look he got from Emishi at that and called out to Ginji. “Hey Gin, you can come out now. All clear.”
Under the table a blond head carefully raised from a curled-up position. “Do I have to?” Ginji whispered, his gaze darting back and forth from Ban to other questionable parties.
Akane answered for his partner. “Gin-ji. Come eat. I order pizza for us!” She patted the top of the table.
“B-B-B-But I'm not h-hungry,” Ginji whined as tears leaked from his eyes.
“You wanna make her mad again? Go eat the pizza, chicken-eel,” Ban told him. “Never turn down free food when it presents itself!”
“Spoken like a true hog,” Himiko said.
“I prefer to think of it as 'gastronome,'” Ban said. “You gonna join us or what?”
“Would've been a fine sight for Akabane to show up and find all this,” Himiko said, watching the girls clear away the last of the mess as she followed Ban to the booth. “When's he due?”
“Called him before the free-for-all. He should be here any minute.” Ban lightly cuffed her on the back of her head. “You're late, squirt. If you'd gotten here sooner I could've had the pleasure of seeing the monkey king be the one to get smacked around instead of experiencing it for myself. Don't you answer your phone?”
“I couldn't help it,” Himiko grumbled, swatting at him. “The job ran later than I expected.” She was cut off from saying anything more when Ban suddenly escorted her front and center to the spot across from Akane.
“While we're waiting for Kuroudo to drop by, here's someone you might like to meet. Akane, my half-sister - “
“I know her.” Akane's face was impassive as she took in the new arrival with slow precision. Then her gaze suddenly softened to a surprising gentleness. “Daughter.” She rose and took Himiko's hands in hers.
At eye level they were the same height. Himiko was startled by the impulse seizing her, that this woman was somehow...known to her, though it was only by impression and not any concrete proof that she could focus on. But some inner awakening told her that this was a spirit ageless, one she was bound to through some as-yet inexplicable twist of fate. She felt as though in the space of a heartbeat she'd been measured, judged and found complete. She wasn't sure what to make of this. “I'm sorry, I'm not - I mean - “
Akane saved her the trouble of immediate pondering. “Child, I recognize a sorceress when I see one.” Her smile was broad and genuine. “Your brother is very proud, Himiko-san. He tells me many stories of you, how you work alongside my son Karawan.”
Himiko looked to Ban for explanation. “Karawan is what she calls Akabane,” he clarified as he scooted into his seat next to a petrified Ginji. “It's an ancient Arabic expression for warding off the evil eye, believe it or not.” Ban looked amused by that point.
“Aa, aa,” Akane nodded, a few tendrils of silver-streaked dark hair swaying loose from her bun. “That is his birth name. His father calls him Kuroudo,” she said, pronouncing the syllables with a halt. In spite of her imperfection with the Japanese language, she spoke it well enough that they had little trouble understanding her. “We decided that he should have names from the places he has lived to guide his path home. He was born during the Nan Kheper, after all.”
“Nan keper - what?” Himiko blinked.
“Period of extra time that didn't exist before, but was created for special purpose way back when, after an established timekeeping system had already been set up against total darkness where nothingness ruled,” Ban cut in. “It's when the principle gods and goddesses of Egyptian mythology were said to be brought into existence. Magic folk often use the dates as a reference point for spellcasting.”
Akane let go of Himiko and steered her into the window seat of the booth before resuming her own place. “Come, sit. We will talk more of my Karawan, aa? And you will tell me what is a 'poison perfume?' Ban-kun is full of mystery! Not good honest boy like partner Gin-ji. He hides too much, always sneaky, says I must wait to see my Karawan!” Akane thumped the tabletop with a dainty fist. “Soon we see if Get Backers deserve reputation - and proper reward.”
“Ulp,” Ginji managed, no doubt having ascertained in his mind what kind of 'reward' he was expecting to get.
“Sneaky saves the day when you least expect it,” an unrepentant Ban told their guest. “And if you think the electric eel over there's honest, you should see him on payday and I send him out to buy ten rolls of beef jerky and he comes back with only four!”
“That because you never feed him enough!” Akane scolded. “Poor boy, always he must fend for himself. No wonder he comes here. Greedy partner hoards everything!”
Himiko liked Akane Akabane. Kindred souls, they called it. She'd been thinking that the woman would be as cool and reserved as Jackal himself, and perhaps she was in her own way, but Himiko remembered Ban's relay about the past. There was plenty of desert spitfire to go around, and for once she didn't mind being called 'child', not when the speaker was addressing her with a kind of reverence that hinted at more than passing acquaintance with Himiko's chosen field.
And, too, Akane, she sensed, was like herself in how she arranged her relationships: formal and politely distant with strangers, relaxed with friends, and fiercely protective towards a select few fortunates. Himiko didn't want to dwell on any darker prospects - if Ban's wrath was devastating when it erupted, and Akabane's fury unfettered once the blade was struck, how much worse was Akane's rage when those calm waters were upset? Like mother, like son indeed. Or daughter-in-spirit, if not in blood...!
Himiko started to explain to Akane what poison perfumes were and how she used them when Ginji suddenly sat up and poked Ban. “Front door,” he hissed, his eyes shooting wide, and that was all the alarm that Ban needed.
“Oh is this gonna be sweet. Ginji, you know what to do.” He climbed out of his seat and grabbed Himiko's arm. “Come on, half-pint. We're the welcoming committee!”
She would have protested but by then he was hauling her forward, pushing at her back so she had nowhere to retreat. Resigning herself to the impending collision, Himiko set her sights on the approaching figure in black and hoped that today wouldn't be the day when she received a personal demonstration of how those Js were made.
“Kuroudo my boy!” Ban was in his element, working his showmanship abilities for all they were worth. “Have I got a present for you!”
Akabane paused to tip his hat in greeting at Paul Wan and politely request a cup of tea from Natsumi before greeting them. “A present? Why, how kind of you, Ban-kun. Do tell.” He smiled at Himiko. “Hello, Himiko-san. I trust that Ban-kun is behaving himself today?”
If you only knew, Himiko thought, trying to keep a burst of laughter from bubbling past her lips. Part of her wanted to blow Ban's surprise out of the water before he had a chance to launch it at his unsuspecting lover, but the other half of her was morbidly curious, and she knew she'd never get to see what she really wanted if she alerted Akabane prematurely to the scheme. Feeling a slight pang of guilt for the deceit she was about to help spring on him, Himiko smiled back.
“As far as I know he hasn't done anything to earn a sharp rebuke from you,” she said.
Akabane nodded. “Good. You see, usually whenever Ban-kun has an offering he wishes to make, it means I am about to receive some disappointing news,” he murmured, his eyes shifting to a knowing cast upon a grinning Ban.
“Not this time. You'll like this. It's a job, and the client specifically requested you.”
Akabane perked up at that - those clients who were familiar with his methods of operation almost always offered stimulating fare. “Interesting. Whom am I to contact?”
“Client's here in the flesh, wanted to meet you in person.” Ban paused, working up his coup de' grace. “See that lady sitting with Ginij, in the gray dress? Yeah. She has all the details,” he finished, just barely holding back the cackle threatening to spill into his words.
Himiko glanced over to where he was pointing. Ginji had rearranged their setting so that Akane had her back to the front of the cafe, which shielded her face from immediate discovery and made her look like just another ordinary patron. Sneaky, indeed.
“I see. Well, then. If you will excuse me, it looks like it's time to have some fun,” Akabane said, a chipper note to his voice that hadn't been there before, his delight now roused by the prospect of a good battle. He leaned over and kissed Ban's cheek. “Thank you, Ban-kun. I shall have to come up with something properly grateful in return for your lovely gift.” He nodded at Himiko. “A good day to you too, Himiko-san.”
“Think nothing of it,” Ban called after him. “All Jackals need a good workout from time to time.” He winked at Himiko and mumbled for her hearing only, “Nothing like a good jolt to the 'ol ticker to keep the bloodlines running, eh?”
They inched towards the back booth, and the rest of the Honky Tonk fidgeted in place as everyone watched, caught between a helpless fascination and a swiftly mounting unease. Shido in particular was edging closer to the front door, eager to watch his nemesis take a richly-deserved punishment, but prepared to make a break for safety if the knives started flying a little too thick for his comfort.
Ginji's face went ghost-pale the closer Akabane got, but to his credit he held his pose as ordered, until the transporter was almost to the table. Then he bailed out of his seat in a clumsy tornado of limbs, babbling apologies as he went diving for the nearest cover. “HiAkabane-sansorryIdidn'tknowanythingaboutthisIswearokaybye!”
Akabane blinked at the sudden whirlwind but wasn't much fazed; he was long since used to the odd reactions his presence encouraged in Ginji. He reached up, took down his hat and gave a bow to the woman he was addressing. “Good day, madam. I am Doctor Jackal, the transporter you requested. Would you like something to drink while we discuss business?”
Akane turned around and her face lit up like a Christmas tree powered by Ginji's electrical current. She threw out her arms wide to catch him in a hug. “Karawan!”
Akabane blinked. His eyebrows squirmed a little as he sought to process things. “I...beg your pardon?” he managed to get out before he was engulfed in the arms of the smaller woman. Akane wrapped her thin arms around him and squeezed as though he were a sponge and she was trying to wrench every last drop of moisture from him. Akabane looked up at the rest of the diner, then at Akane, then back up, then at Akane again, and finally at their audience.
Himiko felt sorry for him. He had the frozen, glassy-eyed expression of a gaping fish that had just been stunned by a swift blow to the head. And knowing the way that Akabane thought, it probably was a blow of sorts to him. For a split second she felt angry at Ban, for treating the person he was supposed to care for in such a callous manner, but thinking of Akabane again, remembering how he kept himself so calm and controlled, made her realize that decisive blows were probably the only way he could have handled such a shock without turning to a more homicidal denial.
Jackal doesn't handle emotions well, Ban had told her once. It's not so much that he doesn't want to - although that is part of it. It's that he can't confront what he doesn't understand. He sees foreign concepts as either objects of fascination to experiment with, or enemies to defeat. But you can't fight your own emotions like you can using weapons on a physical threat, and they're too serious to toy lightly with. The hardest battles of all take place in the heart and mind.
Judging by the blank slate of Akabane's face - only his eyes, shooting rapidly around the room as he struggled to take in the situation, revealed the turmoil of anxiety swiftly surging in rebellion - all-out war had broken out inside the no-man's land that served as his heart.
Himiko felt a wellspring of sorrow then, wishing she could offer him some support. She herself had grieved deeply before, raged in bitter futile fury once, and soared aloft with joy all too briefly in the past. But she could do so because she gave her emotions the freedom they deserved, and in the end she achieved the release she needed that gave her the greater strength to continue on. Akabane had spent God only knew how long suffocating that part of himself, and as a consequence, was being bludgeoned by the unfamiliar and conflicting and confusing instincts clawing for escape at his insides; the only release he knew was the carnage to be found in violent death. Only because Ban had taken the time to teach him a different route had the transporter begun to attempt toddling steps back onto a path that offered him a chance at real life, a hope for salvation from the darkness that plagued him.
“My lady - forgive me - perhaps you have mistaken me for another - “ Akabane said thinly, trying in vain to delicately untangle the vise clamped around his midsection.
“No mistake, my little one,” Akane told him. She reached up and touched his face, the contact jolting Akabane like a live wire. He made a little hiccuping noise and jerked backwards before his body seized into utter stillness - the blank fear of a prey cornered.
Akane did not fail to notice this, and her eyes clouded with pain, but she would not be deterred. She stroked her son's hair and said gently, “You know this to be true, Karawan. Long ago we were separated, you remember that night, yes? It break my heart, losing you to those defilers.” She spat wordless disgust for a moment, then went on. “But I know you fight them, I know you did not want to go. It not your fault. Never your fault. I always hold the place in my heart for my little jackal, never give up looking once I free from sickness. And now, because of Get Backers, I find you again.” The glow in her eyes radiated purple warmth.
Akabane looked ill. His eyes had taken on a glaze and his face was paler than normal. His throat muscles worked for a few seconds as he tried to form words, which pinched off in a near-whisper. “But...my mother...she is...she is...dead...I saw her shroud...the blood...” He sounded like a lost little boy.
Akane shook her head. “Not so. See?” She lifted one of her hands, which had been clutching at his. A thin line of red trickled down a slender finger. In his astonishment, Akabane's scalpels had burst free and were protruding from his hands, and Akane had accidentally brushed her finger over one of the blades. “Could ghost bleed like this?” She seemed amused by the prospect. “I am alive, Karawan. I come back for you.”
Akabane stared at the blood on her hand. He looked stricken, and Himiko wondered what must be going through his mind at that moment.
Akane dismissed the shallow cut with a brisk wiping of her hand on a napkin offered by Rena. “Ahh, but all this unimportant now. Past things are passed. I am glad this place is so nice for you. Foolish people - “ she shot a stern glower at the starers who had gathered to witness - “make mess, cause chaos! Not proper way to welcome you, not at all,” she tsked.
Shido could no longer hold in his ire. “Hey, everything was fine till the snake bastard butted in. What am I supposed to do, take it on the chin?”
“Among other places,” Ban snapped. And the fight was back on.
Akane sighed irritably. “Stupid men never learn!” She let go of Akabane and stepped past him, focusing on the scrabble between Ban and Shido, and said something in a strange language. In the next instant her eyes seemed to go black with menace, and Himiko felt a palpable chill in the air. But what crawled across her arm was nothing so benign as goosebumps, and she screamed when she saw what had just skittered over her forearm and leapt away to zoom in on the combatants.
Hevn grabbed her hand and pulled her up on top of the nearest booth seat, shrieking likewise, and it didn't take long for the rest of the Honky Tonk to follow suit. No one wanted to find out whether the floor now seething with hordes of scarab beetles was dangerous.
“Get 'em OFF ME!” Shido bellowed, frantically pushing the chittering insects off almost as fast as they crawled up his legs. “I HATE BUGS!!”
“She just called you a rancid bug turd,” Ban snickered, clambering his way to escape on top of the front counter where the critters hadn't yet invaded. “Have to admit, you sure smell like one!”
Akane fixed him with her lethal stare and hissed. “And you!” Another word, another spell, and Ban abruptly yelped and dove from the counter to the windowsill, as a cavalcade of the biggest, blackest scorpions Himiko had ever seen mushroomed from out of the top of the counter and sped towards him.
This, she knew, was no Jagan, no illusion. This was the real deal. She shuddered.
A new voice rang out among the din, sharp and cold, and she recognized Akabane's call to the scalpels. The Bloody Rain pinged off the ceiling and showered the scattering chitinous mass in a dustcloud of evaporating black mist. Akabane stood, trembling somewhat, at the forefront of the attack, pointing his hand as he directed the extermination. Akane turned to him with a delighted smile, speaking again those strange words she'd used before, and recalled the last of her spell. The beetles and scorpions dropped into ash that faded as quickly as it had materialized.
Four things happened at once then:
Ban, unable to hold in his mirth any longer, yelled, “SURPRIIIIISE!” from where he was clinging desperately to the ceiling -
Ginji, unable to restrain his burgeoning terror any longer, yelled, “PLEASE DON'T KILL ME AKABANE-SAAAAAN!” from where he was hanging on to Ban -
Paul, unable to contain his dread over the hefty bill for the dishes and furniture he'd have to soon replace, yelled, “NOT IN THE SHOP!” from where he was dangling off of Ginji's leg -
And Kuroudo Akabane, Doctor Jackal himself, transporter without fear or failing in the face of deadly adventure, dropped his hat, gave a tiny gasp of “MAMA?!” and fell straight back on the floor in a dead sprawling faint amidst a billowing black trenchcoat.
The silence in the aftermath could have cut stone to ribbons. It was cleaved only by the sudden onslaught of babbled conversation as patrons surrendered to their morbid curiosity, gathering closer at the scene of the crime.
“Blackmail material,” Himiko explained to a stunned Kazuki when he noticed her quickly taking out her cell phone and snapping pictures of her fallen cohort. “Like Ban says: never let a good opportunity go to waste!”
--
A good bouncer knows when to break up the party before the rowdier merrymakers get too out of hand. Paul Wan only ran a small coffeehouse in the middle of downtown Shinjuku, but he was no stranger to settling potential problems before they became serious melee' damages. As soon as Akabane hit the floor he was down and running from his squatters' safety net, grabbing all nonessential people nearest him and ordering them out the door, barking at Ban to haul the transporter to a booth and keep an eye on him.
Himiko waded her way through the protesting crowd, counting on her relationships with the primary scoundrels to grant her immunity from the enforced ban. She bypassed a squealing Hevn, who tried to clutch at Himiko's shoulder for purchase but was quickly removed via a sudden gust of wind that seemed to emanate from the same place as Paul himself. Himiko made it to Ban's side and helped him move Akabane to the booth.
“Tell me you got that. Tell me you got that!” he said, eyeing the open cell phone she still had in one hand. “I want copies, Himiko. One for every shocker that hit him! The thrill'll last me till New Year's!” he howled. “Goddamn, did you SEE that?! Now that's how it's done!”
Himiko had a feeling he wasn't just talking about Akabane's reaction. She too was keeping a wary eye on the mysterious Akane, awed by the scope of the magic she'd just beheld. Even Maria Noches, a grande dame sorceress herself, would have been impressed.
Ginji's terror was temporarily overcome by his fascination at having seen the dreaded danger be vanquished so simply. He'd climbed down from his hiding place and was hanging over the back seat of the booth by Ban. “I had no idea Akabane-san could do that!” he kept repeating to anyone within earshot, which, since Paul had just evicted most of the patrons, wasn't too many people.
Natsumi, clever girl, was now rushing forward with an offer of an icepack. “Poor Akabane-san! Maybe this will help!”
Only Akane showed no sign of distress. She looked puzzled by her son's reaction, but seemed to be taking things in stride. She sat down again and watched the flurry of activity around her, shaking her head silently as if to say, what a pack of fools. Himiko silently agreed with her.
Ban took the proffered pack from Natsumi and set it against the back of Akabane's head. “He did smack his gray matter a little harder than I'd thought,” he mused. “Hey Himiko, you still got those smelling salts on you?”
She fished around in her harness and found the bottle, handing it to him. “Your head,” she warned, stepping back out of the line of immediate fire.
“Pffft,” Ban answered, ripping out the cork and waving the open end of the bottle under Akabane's nose. “You get a load of the look on his face? He's too walloped to even think of bloody-raining me.”
The salts took a little longer than expected, but no more than several minutes passed before Akabane finally stirred. He winced and pushed at Ban's hand, turning his head away from the odious salts with a groan.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Ban told him, giving the bottle back to Himiko. “How you feeling?”
“Ban-kun.” Akabane's eyes darted anxiously around, taking in the sight of his lover, his lover's partner and his lover's half-sister all hovering over him. “What happened? I think I just had the most peculiar nightmare...” His eyes slipped shut as he reached up and felt the bump on his head.
“Easy, now. That's a nice shiner you'll be harvesting later.” For all his raucousness Ban was toning things down now, stroking Akabane's head to calm him. “You passed out. Can't say I blame you. Must've been a helluva shock, seeing your mom again after so long...”
“Ban-kun.” Akabane's eyebrows furrowed into confusion. “That's impossible. My mother's been presumed dead for years, ever since I was a small boy.”
Ban shook his head. “Think again. I know dead when I see it, and she ain't it. But I'll let her explain it to you.” He grinned then. “Thought I'd give you your Christmas present a little early this year.”
He moved aside and Akane got up from her seat to come forward. Her eyes swam in lavender satisfaction as she clasped Akabane in her arms once more. “My Karawan. My precious one!” She rained gentle kisses down on a very bewildered-looking Akabane's face. He was too startled to do anything beyond clamber to a half-sitting-half-reclining position on the booth seat.
“Ban-kun?”
Ban's grin had faded to a curious stare. “It's the real thing, Akabane. No Jagan, I promise. Ginji and I - “ he gestured to his wide-eyed partner - “found your mother while she was searching for you.”
“Is true,” Akane said, her small frame wrapped tight enough around Akabane to make breathing somewhat difficult, as if she feared he would fly from her on a spirit's breath. “I look always for you, Karawan. Never have I found you - until I find them first,” she said, nodding at the Get Backers. “These retrievers say they know you.” Abruptly she switched to a language that Himiko couldn't understand, rattling off a guttural series of sounds peppered with harsh consonants. She watched as Akabane's eyes grew wider, almost rivaling Ginji's saucer-eyed gawk, and then he started to babble in the same language, his voice not at all quiet and smooth but higher-pitched and fragmented, fraught with something she'd never thought he'd possessed - until now.
Ban didn't seem too surprised by the rapid fire of words exchanged in a foreign tongue, only with the power of the emotions accompanying them. He pulled out his cigarettes and lighter and started to fire one up.
Without breaking stride in her conversation Akane turned around in one fluid motion and swatted the implements from his hand before turning back to Akabane and resuming her speech. “I tell him to stop that bad thing!” she said momentarily in Japanese, before picking up where she'd left off.
Akabane was trying to keep up with her, gasping out portions of his side even as Akane chattered on, both mother and son unconcerned with interruptions so long as they weren't coming from outside sources. Himiko perceived a kind of rhythm to the language they were using, an enticing melody underlying the harshness, and she sensed that this language was a type of unique magic all its own. It made her think of endless deserts, and cold moonlit nights so pure one could travel as if in daylight, and sun so bright and hot the empty expanses would bake to cinders while the lush fields nearby drew their strength from the blue-green serpent of the great river that nourished them.
Ban nudged her. “Egyptian, mostly. Some of it's a dialect in the ancient ways. My grandmother had a set of old Egyptian spellbooks. It's pretty amazing stuff.”
Himiko couldn't take her eyes off the two people enraptured by each other. “How does Akabane know how to speak Egyptian?”
“'Cause he grew up there. You never really forget what you grow up with,” Ban said sagely. “That's why I said you don't wanna screw with Akane. Where they come from, that magic's centuries in the making. Percolated over time - others might've gotten there first, but they were the one really big civilization to establish a known empire in the ancient world. That's heavy-duty power we're talking here.”
Akabane was growing less agitated, his face alight with an unusual humanity as his voice eventually slowed and diminished in volume. Akane too was settling, her tone soothing while she held her son and touched his hair, his face. Himiko wanted to hug the both of them. She stayed put, surreptitiously swiping at her own face with a careless arm to stay the threatening sting in her eyes.
Ban looked upon them with ripe satisfaction, a pleasure from both having completed a job well done, and relief that things had progressed (mostly) the way he'd wanted them to. Even Ginji's worry was dissolving, and he leaned in to study the scene, his brown eyes warming to the reunion of family and a hesitant, flickering smile making its way over the edges of his lips.
“You should take your own advice,” Himiko told Ban. “I noticed you seem to have no problem provoking Akane!”
He made a face. “I'm a retriever, I'm supposed to piss people off. Anyway, we have an...understanding between us.” He looked down at the floor where his beloved cigarettes and lighter lay, the victims of the sorcereress's wrath. He picked them up and made as though he were going to light one, thought better of it and stuffed them back into his pocket. “And since I helped her get back her baby boy, that gives me a special immunity.”
A slightly rough clearing of throat drew their attention. Akabane, now mostly composed into something of a normal semblance for him, was looking at Ban with a raised eyebrow. “But not from me,” he said. “We will have a discussion later, Midou-kun.” He looked serious, but not overly upset, Himiko decided, which probably meant that all Ban could expect from his mate by way of punishment was a sound scolding at having withheld this information for so long.
Ban's sheepish shrug seemed to confirm this. He held out his hands. “Ah, you know I had to do it, Akabane. Now give your mom a hug. Don't you think she's earned it after all this time?”
Akabane's expression softened. “Indeed she has. Mama,” he said, an unmistakable happiness tinting his voice as he and Akane embraced. “Mama, I missed you so much...”
Akane smiled with him and kissed his forehead. “Aa. The grave in my breast is finally filled as well. No greater gift can the gods bestow to me than this - my Karawan, my brave strong Karawan.”
“It's Kuroudo now, Mama. Father insisted,” Akabane said.
“Aa. Yes, I know. But to me, you will always be my little jackal,” Akane told him with a little chuckle.
Ginji piped up from his place. “I bet Akabane-san was really cute as a kid, huh, Akane-san?”
“Oh cripes, now you've done it,” Ban groaned, just as Akane turned around and said, “But of course!” and whipped open her purse to pull out a small album of old sepia-tinted photographs. The openmouthed expression on Akabane's face was priceless when his mother flipped the little book open to show a picture of her smirking son at age four wearing a big black hat and a scuffed physician's lab coat, while Ginji giggled overhead and Ban rolled his eyes.
“It could be worse,” Himiko consoled a startled Akabane, patting his shoulder. “When Ban first came to live with us, my brother Yamato once showed him a picture of me as a naked infant in the bathtub!”
“Aa! I think have one of those,” the ever-practical Akane announced, sifting through the pages of the album looking for said evidence.
Sensing Akabane's rising discord Ban acted quickly to stem the tide of Js. “Um, Akane, I know this is kind of an awkward moment, but we could stand to take care of a little business first, if you know what I mean - “ He wiggled his fingers in a panhandling gesture.
“Midou-kun, really, how crass,” Akabane chastised, though not too strongly as he looked relieved to have been spared the embarrassment of further childhood revelations.
Akane looked up from her search and paused. “Ah, payment. Yes. You do your job well, Ban-kun. Very well indeed. You have truly earned this.” She opened up her purse again and took out a fat wad of cash. Ban's eyes boggled, and so did Himiko's. Ban's hand shot out to clutch the bundles of money that Akane was extending...
...which were promptly dropped into a surprised Ginji's arms.
“You go to grocery store,” Akane told him kindly. “Buy lots and lots of food. Not share with greedy partner who starves you! He can buy his own.”
Ginji squeezed the money and looked up at her with wonder written all over his face. He was in his own glorious personal shi no jundo, a pure and heavenly death by chocolate - and meat, and rice balls, and fruit, and anything else his synapse-spasming brain was crackling to list for immediate purchase.
“Half that dough belongs to me, buster!” Ban demanded, his right hand shooting out to take what he felt was his rightful share. The snap and sizzle of electric current forced him to remain penniless, however.
Sparks danced from Ginji's hair while he hunched over his prize, looking uncannily like Doctor Jackal as he presented a sinister smile and narrowed glare. “Now, Ban-chan. You wouldn't want to make Akane-sama angry again, would you? After all, I'm supposed to respect my elders by obeying their wishes!”
“Ginji-kun has a point,” Akabane said, an amused smile creeping along his mouth. “If Mama isn't happy, then no one is going to be happy. Hmm?”
“Not in the shop, please?” a weary Paul sighed as he took Natsumi's and Rena's hands and led them into the safety of the back storeroom before Himiko was treated to the sight of Ban expressing his very distinct lack of happiness squarely on top of Ginji's head.
“Mama,” Akabane chuckled. “Show Himiko-san what you do to people who won't listen to you.”
“My pleasure, Karawan.” Akane took Himiko by the hand and they followed after the snarling tangle of retrieval partners. “Now pay attention, child. I show you how to put fear of Seth into troublesome retriever boys. No one stirs bloody chaos like Lord of Upper Egypt...!”
--
TBC