Joint Mission

Two hours, two hours spent waiting on the team to appear, followed by another two hours of answering questions and aiding. It wasn’t the work that bothered Yori. And while the waiting did, it wasn’t for obvious reasons. Each mage was someone torn from their home and brought over to Japan. They should be back home with those who loved and missed them, not stuck in a foreign land being processed by people who just saw them as names and numbers.

Yori knew it’d be at least a day or more before they could return. The Mado government had to be informed before the proper arrangements could be made. They would have to figure out their identities and how to get them back to their families. But a bath, fresh meals and a bed awaited them. That had to be worth something at least.

They still looked ragged, but a little cleaned up now. A bit of life and color returned to all of them. Though, it would likely take longer than that before they were fully recovered. He learned, as they were getting names and histories from everyone, that none of them were related. The only consistent thing in their stories had been that all of them were lured in with lies. Syndicates preyed on people’s vague sense of longing, not knowing what they were getting themselves into.

In silence, he clenched his fists near to the point of drawing blood. Yori forced himself to present a detached expression. He was grateful none of the recovery team were trained like him. They would have seen through the facade immediately. The heat pounding in him fought for control. Yori bottled it up the best he could.

Slowly. One finger. Then another. He eased his fists.

Once everyone was helped into the van, Yori joined them. Ryota, the boy, bounced around almost. It was a little surprising, but perhaps the newness of Japan provided enough of a distraction from the darkness that clawed at all of them. The adults largely remained mute and withdrawn.

Even still, he didn’t feel Ryota should have to go in alone. Eventually, they would have to part, but a little company on the way to the Section 14 headquarters should keep him distracted.

Different questions kept getting tossed at Yori. The kid was voracious with his interest, which was only made sadder knowing that he’d forget all of it. The Veil wouldn’t let him remember. It was the only way to keep the peace. That was the theory anyway.

It was a long drive, but late into the night, the streets weren’t as crowded. So it didn’t take nearly as long. They arrived at one past midnight at Section 14, deep in Tokyo and the governing bodies of the country. Down the street out of sight was the Diet Building like an invisible reminder. Don’t screw up.

Headquarters was just a five-story building with a bookstore on the ground floor and apartments and offices on the others. They leased the building to numerous small businesses for the front. And they could enter from the back. A series of protective wards and mental distraction charms kept the average citizen ignorant to the truth.

The van slipped underground through what appeared to be a parking entrance. To the outside, it looked completely full and even had a sign saying no vacancy. But through the wards, it turned into a tunnel that ran deep underground to enter the Section 14 complex.

Once parked, a polished metal and concrete garage greeted them, stretching out beyond the sights. Stale air and intense white lights overwhelmed the senses and the foreigners. After the night, the bleaching had to be off-putting, but they were escorted in.

A well-mannered gentleman stood at the entrance with three more behind him. All in suits and nearly looking like copies of the other. The standard politician look, clean cut and rigid, with a bit of a slump. They were polite enough, if very much cogs.

“Good evening! I apologize for all of the stress and trauma you’ve had to endure during your time here. I’m Kei Fuchida, and you can ask me for any needs you have during your stay.” He stepped to the side, motioning to the three behind him. “They’ll see you to your rooms and give you a tour of the refugee wing where you can get a bath and a warm meal.”

Ryota leaned up from Yori’s side. “You’re not coming with us, Mister?”

Mr. Fuchida bowed softly. “Not yet, I must see to business with Mr. Saioji first. We have to make sure you can return home smoothly.”

“Okay…”

“It won’t be long. I’ll see if Mr. Saioji will be allowed to join me!”

“Really?”

Yori gave an encouraging nod to Ryota before letting go of his hand. The other refugees remained uneasy, but followed with a little more relaxed posture. He watched long after they had already made it out of his reach.

“Murakami wants to see you immediately.”

“That bad?” She was in command of Mado relations and the direct liaison to their counterpart organization, the Yattsu no Aoi Hana, a far more colorful name than Section 14. But they had nothing to hide. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of a nobler name, even if the duties were the same.

“She’s been in calls and meetings for the last three hours. Rumor’s something big is going down.”

“If it puts an end to this trafficking ring, then I couldn’t be happier. Let’s get going.” They hurried off in a different hall from the refugees. Much like the name, the interior only presented flat, boring hallways with sometimes an opening into a break room or open meeting chamber. Plastic white walls and metal trim with faux marble floors. It felt very government and non-descript to the point that if anyone stumbled in, it gave nothing away.

After a few minutes of paths that Yori mostly knew by heart, they arrived. Fuchida knocked at the door. It was only a few seconds, but a voice came from the other side, inviting them in. This hadn’t been the first time Yori visited Hiromi Murakami, but it was always a bit of a whiplash. A bookish-looking, tiny woman with ancient weapons and tools collected from around the world as if it were a museum. Though she insisted none had such precious value, just personal importance. He was never bold enough to inquire past that point.

“Good, you’re finally back Saioji. Things have quickly moved, and the brass are ordering you to head this up.”

Yori took a seat as Fuchida joined. Though it made him wonder what mission they had for him if he had to be involved. “I just got back and it’s the middle of the night. What’s going on?”

“The refugees you found would seem to be on the list of recent abductees that the Yattsu no Aoi Hana have been tracking. There’s been an ongoing open case involving human trafficking of mages from Mado. It’s mostly been their case, as we haven’t had any leads. Whoever’s running this has been careful to go unnoticed.”

“Until tonight.”

“We got lucky. But this is their case and they’re insisting on sending one of their own over. Mado wants them to lead the investigation in tracking and shutting down the ones responsible.”

The fact that a sorcerer would be coming from the Veil brought both of them to attention. Getting that sort of paperwork through was a pain in the ass, and most weren’t even trained for it. “What’s going to be the point of a sorcerer that can’t use their spells?”

“They’re sending someone from Eighth Squad.”

Yori groaned quietly, trying to hide his displeasure. Though his face showed everything anyway. “They aren’t known for being subtle. They’re all military grade sorcerers.”

“My hands are tied. The decision’s already been made. They’re arriving in the morning.”

“I haven’t even slept yet.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re used to working alone, but these are your orders. You’ll have a partner for this mission, and you’ve been ordered to see to any of their needs while they’re in Japan. We need to put a stop to these criminals.”

He nodded reluctantly. There was no way he could refuse. The thought of Ryota came to him. “I will see that justice is carried out.”