Enishi Ryouma

Midoriko ran her hands over the tatami mats and inhaled the scent deeply. They were really back in Japan.

She had nearly gotten herself kidnapped a second time by people she realized were far worse than Westbrook. But he still chose to save her even though he could have just left her behind in the burning building to flee on his own.

“Hey, what does that word they said mean? Neytralizatchiki or whatever it was…” Midoriko asked, sitting up. “That Russian said it to me before when–”

Suddenly, Westbrook rushed across the room. He grabbed her by the jaw, pushing her down onto her back.

“Oh yes, that’s right. I nearly forgot,” he said, crouching over her. He was only gripping her face, but Midoriko felt pinned down. “I have you to thank for giving me up, don’t I?!”

It was a rare display of anger by the normally cool, calm, and collected man.

“Well?! What do you have to say for yourself?!” he shouted. Westbrook’s grip tightened around her face. “And that fire was your doing, too, right?!”

Tears welled up in Midoriko’s eyes, spilling out the corners and running down to her temples. Perhaps from the pain of his strong grip, perhaps out of irritation from the smoke, or perhaps out of simple fear of a man who had already made it clear he could kill her at his whim.

“Master! That’s enough!” Xiǎomíng said, pulling Westbrook off of Midoriko. “Even if she gave anything up to them, they’d already been watching us. Westbrook was compromised because Brodny already was.”

Westbrook sighed and let go. Midoriko backed away, putting distance between the two of them. She had let her guard down way too easily.

“You. Speak,” Westbrook barked at Midoriko. Tell me everything that happened between you and the Russians.

She told him about the man she encountered while home alone, how he’d asked about a Zapad Brodny and she had dropped Westbrook’s name, and how the man had said he would come back.

“Well, I suppose that’s the source of those tracks you saw,” Westbrook said to Xiǎomíng. “And what about just now? Did they interrogate you for any information about me?”

“No. They just caught me while I was running away,” she replied. Midoriko rubbed her wrists where the zip-ties had dug into her skin.

“And the fire? Why’d you have to burn my beautiful house down?” Westbrook feigned a pained expression, wiping crocodile tears from his eyes.

“I heard you two saying you were going to move to another location and panicked,” Midoriko admitted. “I set the fire as a diversion so I could run away.”

Westbrook sighed dramatically, then chuckled. “Well, it didn’t work exactly the way you planned… But it did work.”

“He was going to let you go,” Xiǎomíng muttered.

“What?” Did she hear that right? Midoriko suddenly got a bad feeling.

“It’s true. But now everything is a mess,” replied Westbrook, leaning his back against a wall. He looked feverish. Westbrook winced as he clutched at his right shoulder.

“Is it the curse, Master?” Xiǎomíng said as he rushed to Westbrook’s side.

He nodded. “Prepare the acupuncture treatment.”

Xiǎomíng hurried out of the room through the door that had just transported them. When he opened it, instead of leading back to the burning house in England, the next room was another one in this new place. Midoriko rubbed her eyes in disbelief.

She was left alone in the quiet room with Westbrook as Xiǎomíng’s footsteps faded away. Outside, birds were chirping and early cicadas were singing. Inside, the labored breathing of Westbrook filled the air.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to stay here for a little while,” he said, starting to unbutton his shirt. Midoriko quickly looked away.

“But I have to go back to my life! I have classes and a job!” she asserted, now staring at a wall with her back turned to Westbrook.

“It’s for your own protection,” he replied. She could hear the sound of fabric rustling. “Those men were part of the Russian mafia, and now they’re aware of your existence as a neutralizer.”

“A what?!” She spun around only to be met with a now shirtless Westbrook.

He was right–his arm was completely black up to his shoulder. Only now, it was slowly spreading past his shoulder like spilled ink.

Midoriko stared for a moment, transfixed by the curse, before remembering she was looking at a half-naked man. She swiftly turned away again, but couldn’t help but continue stealing glances at his cursed arm.

“That word they called you–it means neutralizer. It’s what people who have an innate ability to counter magic are called,” he explained. Westbrook kicked off his shoes and lay on his back. “It’s pretty rare. That makes it extremely valuable for criminals that employ sorcerers…Which is most of them. They will stop at nothing to bring a neutralizer into the fold.”

Midoriko had a hard enough time wrapping her head around the fact that the infamous phantom thief was some kind of wizard. Now he was telling her that there were more people like him?! Though she had seen firsthand that those Russian gangsters also possessed some sort of magical ability.

“This is a lot to take in. Why would they want me?”

He looked at her like it was a dumb question to ask.

“Think of it like counter-intelligence,” he said, sighing. “If someone infiltrates their ranks with glamour or invisibility, you can see through it. If there are magical barriers in place, you can bypass them. You’re impervious to magical attacks–sorcerers don’t make it a habit to carry guns either. Shall I go on?”

“Um, no. I think I get it now,” she replied, scratching her head.

The faint thumping of footsteps was growing louder as Xiǎomíng neared the room.

“This place is safe. I think staying here for a little while longer to help me out is a suitable punishment for your little act of arson.” Westbrook shot her a teasing smile.

When Xiǎomíng returned, he shooed Midoriko out of the room. Apparently, he needed the utmost concentration, and she’d be too distracting. As he started to close the sliding door in her face, Westbrook spoke up.

“Suwa Midoriko, I promise you that I will make this go away!”

She caught the door before Xiǎomíng could fully close it.

“A promise is as good as dirt if I can’t even trust you!”

“How can I make you trust me?” he asked, sitting up.

She had already learned that he was willing to exchange information for her trust and cooperation. How high was the price he was willing to pay?

“Your name. I know your real face, so tell me your real name–not another alias,” she ordered.

Midoriko knew that for someone like him, giving up this information would change the power imbalance between them. It was the only way she was willing to put her trust and faith in this man now.

“Enishi Ryouma.”

“Master–!” Xiǎomíng tried to scold him, but Ryouma put up a hand to silence the boy.

“Enishi–spelled with the kanji for creek and west. Ryouma–spelled with the kanji for dragon and truth. ” He said it all without hesitation. Enishi Ryouma looked at Midoriko with resolve. “So please…Trust me.”

His sincerity came through to Midoriko loud and clear. The way he even went so far as to spell out his name for her left no room for ambiguity or guessing. The power dynamic had shifted in her favor–she could destroy him.

Or she could let him help.

“I will,” Midoriko said breathlessly as she closed the door.

After sitting by herself in the next room for a few minutes, she reached for her phone out of habit. Midoriko, like most other women her age, filled her boredom with mobile games and web novels. But her pants had no pockets.

The stupid luxury brand she was wearing apparently didn’t believe women should have pockets–a conspiracy to sell more purses for sure. She had been forced to put her phone and wallet in her purse during her daring escape attempt… The very purse left behind in England.

Sure, she was back in Japan, but with no phone or wallet, what good did it do her?

Midoriko let out a long, low groan. At this point, she was most anxious about school. It was her last year of the three-year program–if she messed up in any way that would delay her graduation, then she would be out. The university did not allow students to take more time than the program length to complete it. She could not afford to fail for a stupid reason.

How long would it be until Westbrook–no Enishi Ryouma–fixed everything for her? Something in the back of her mind was screaming that there was no turning back from this. Her normal, quiet life was over. But she had no choice but to trust him–he paid an exceptionally high price after all.

Starting to feel warm, she peeled off the extra layers of clothing and tossed them aside. Midoriko curled up on the floor. She was exhausted and trying not to sink any further into the pits of despair. Between the dim, warm room and the soft tatami mats, Midoriko slipped into a deep sleep without realizing it.

***

In the other room, Ryouma lay on the floor while Xiǎomíng performed his acupuncture work. The boy moved with the ease and skill of someone who had done this a thousand times over.

“Master, do you really think it’s a good idea to tell her your full real name like that?”

“Why not? What have I got to lose?” Ryouma answered.

“Everything,” Xiǎomíng hissed. He drove a needle into Ryouma’s shoulder, stabbing him.

“Ouch! You did that on purpose…”

“She could report you to Interpol with that information!” Xiǎomíng quietly scolded. He pulled the needle out and re-inserted it correctly.

With each prick of Xiǎomíng’s needles, Ryouma felt a wave of relief. The tingling, almost burning sensation of the curse’s advance cut off at each insertion.

In truth, he understood that his young apprentice was rightfully anxious. Ryouma went through the effort of concocting his myriad of elaborate aliases for the express purpose of protecting the entity Enishi Ryouma. He had worked extremely hard to ensure that identity was like a phantom.

“I don’t think she will,” Ryouma argued. “In fact, I’m willing to bet on it that she won’t.”

“How can I collect on a bet when we’re both rotting in prison?” Xiǎomíng slapped Ryouma’s stomach. “Sit up. I have to get your back, too.”

“Ow! My pupil is so disrespectful today,” Ryouma said, rubbing his stomach as he sat up.

“I’m in a bad mood. Can you tell?” Xiǎomíng inserted the remaining needles into Ryouma’s back, forming a neat row that nearly encircled his arm. “Be honest. Why are you keeping her around?”

Ryouma looked down at his cursed arm that was completely void of feeling now. The acupuncture worked two-fold in that it helped slow the spread of the curse in addition to temporarily stopping any pain by cutting off all sensation.

In short, an adhesive bandage on a large, festering wound.

Xiǎomíng had once explained that it had something to do with blocking the flow of qi, but Ryouma never really cared how or why things worked. He didn’t like to waste time when simple yes or no questions would suffice. Does it work? Does it produce results?

Which was why Suwa Midoriko felt like such an enigma to him. Not just because she was the first neutralizer he’d ever encountered, but because her touch seemed to be the breakthrough he needed for his curse.

“I have a feeling that she will prove to be very useful to me.”

He was taking a calculated risk, hoping that it would pay off. For the first time in a long time, Enishi Ryouma felt the spark of curiosity ignite within, and he was going to let it guide him.