Of Contracts and Legends

“IS THE SISCON GONE?”, a female voice asked Ryuuji the moment he stepped inside the lobby. It came from none other than Kurogiri Reina, a former mercenary turned ATC manager after retiring from active duty. Despite being in her 40’s, however, she remained a force to be reckoned with.

“I sent him home,” replied Akari, trying to hold back the shame.

“Finally,” said Reina, pressing a hand to her head as she leaned back on her seat. “Three hours. For three freaking hours, he wouldn’t stop yapping about you, and how Ryuuji had taken his baby sister from him.”

“Oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” said Akari, wishing the Earth would just swallow her as she bowed to the manager again and again.

“At least you didn’t get lonely in here,” Ryuuji chimed in, noting the desolation of Reina’s branch office. If not for them, it’d be completely vacant.

“Oh, shut it,” Reina barked back. “You’ve seen the Shinjuku branch yourself. Do you seriously think anyone has a chance to compete with them?”

“Of course not,” said Ryuuji with a shrug. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

The ATC’s Shinjuku branch was notorious for its massive flow of lucrative contracts, as well as top-of-the-line facilities. It was a stone’s throw away from the railway station, and the nearby Kabukichō was a spiritual activity goldmine.

No matter how competent Reina might be, there was little incentive for mercenaries to work in her much smaller and humble Nakano branch. Outcasts like Ryuuji were the exception, because Reina would offer them the discretion that the Shinjuku branch could not.

“If you’re walking in so gingerly, then I trust you have something for me,” said the disgruntled manager. Ryuuji wasn’t the type to show himself for just a social call.

“We got you a Lantern,” he replied, prompting Akari to unhook the item from her belt and place it on Reina’s desk. “It’s filled with cursed energy from a fresh oni; I’m sure we nabbed him within the hour.”

Reina whistled in amazement, inspecting the lantern with great scrutiny.

“Did you corrupt the guy?” she nonchalantly inquired about sacrilege.

“I’m an outcast, not a heretic,” Ryuuji replied with a scowl.

“Then how’d you catch him so fast?” she asked. “I didn’t issue a contract for this.”

“Dumb luck,” Ryuuji admitted. “I was driving by when I heard a commotion, and it turned out to be a murder scene. I got to the case before the police arrived.”

“That’s some twisted luck you’ve got,” Reina noted the irony. “Though I suppose you need it, in our line of work.”

As a retired mercenary, she’d seen her fair share of tragedies throughout the years, and made plenty of profit from them. The profession wasn’t seen in a positive light, even in present day, but it remained an unfortunate necessity.

“Tell that to the Bureau of Harmony,” said Ryuuji, recalling the strange circumstances of this latest case. “The guy said a kami had cursed him. Blamed the poor little chap for turning him into an oni and killed him on the spot.”

“That’s a load of nonsense,” Reina replied, putting down the Soul Lantern. “If someone had cursed your suspect, it’d have to be a powerful yōkai, but there weren’t any reported sightings today. All things considered, it was pretty calm.”

It was a surprising claim coming from Reina, given that Tanabata was only two days away. Public holidays were a hotspot for spiritual incidents, especially those where greater kami were involved.

“So you don’t have any contracts for us?” Akari asked, feeling anxious. She was hoping to fill her pockets during the festival, but her dreams were looking more fleeting by the minute.

“There’s plenty of guard duty to go about,” Reina replied, making Akari slump her shoulders. “Though you don’t look so happy about working minimum wage, huh?”

“Got anything juicy? Please?” Akari pleaded.

“Well, I could send you to a wild goose chase,” Reina suggested. “I heard a rumor that could make us filthy rich, if it turns out to be true.”

“Alright, spit it out!” Akari replied, planting her hands hard on the desk.

Reina stopped the Soul Lantern from tipping over before elaborating.

“A villager claimed he saw the Wandering Songstress the other day,” she said, making Ryuuji’s eyebrows twitch. “It was an elderly man from Gunma, from some ghost town or the other. A major yōkai had been prowling the area, but before the ACU or the ATC could get to it, the Songstress purified it. A friend of mine interviewed the witness, but couldn’t confirm whether he’s saying the truth or he just imagined the whole thing. He swears on it, for what it’s worth.”

“The Wandering Songstress…” Akari recalled one of Japan’s most recent legends. “Isn’t the bounty on her something ridiculous?”

“A billion yen,” Reina replied, making Akari stumble on her feet.

“A BILLION!?” she yelled, her thoughts racing with all the possibilities.

“Of course, catching her is easier said than done,” Reina noted. “The Bureau of Harmony wants her alive, for starters, so you can’t use lethal force. She’s elusive, and one hell of a spellcaster. Even if you and Ryuuji get the jump on her, chances are she’ll beat you up and escape.”

“What kind of magic does she use? Got any intel on her?” Akari pressed on.

“She’s a Kotodama user,” Reina explained. “The first report about her came five years ago, and they’ve kept coming ever since. She travels alone all over Japan and has repeatedly interfered in ACU and ATC operations. She mostly purifies yōkai and oni, but she has conducted industrial sabotage against the Red Thread plenty of times.”

“Oh, right,” Akari recalled a story she’d seen on the news. “She caused a major blackout last year, didn’t she?”

“Yup,” Reina confirmed. “She has also destroyed research labs, warehouses and weapon stocks. Of course, the Bureau of Harmony has buried the news about those, but she’s their most problematic saboteur.”

“And they still want her alive?” Akari pondered. “The Bureau has been harsher on many criminals for less.”

“That’s the Red Thread for you,” Reina pointed out. “Even though they’re her primary victim, they’ve lobbied hard to spare her. They must’ve struck a deal with Mito Hajime, from the IDP.

“Mito Hajime, who’s that?” asked Akari, writing the name down on her phone.

“He’s a senior researcher from the Institute of Divine Phenomena, specialized in Kotodama. He used to be a big name back in the day, pulling major breakthroughs one after the other. But then his prodigal girl died, and he hasn’t found a replacement. He’s probably looking to recruit the Songstress, whether she likes it or not.”

“What prodigal girl?” Akari inquired, curious about the story.

“That’s enough chatting,” Ryuuji interrupted, unwilling to delve into it.

“Right,” Reina agreed, remembering his past history. “Let’s leave it at that and settle accounts. You brought me a good catch with this Lantern, but the amount of cursed energy is on the lower end. I can give you a hundred thousand for it.”

“Oh, a hundred and fifty?” asked Ryuuji. “You’re so generous, Reina. I’ll be in your debt.”

“This cheeky bastard,” Reina laughed. “Fine, I’ll give you a hundred and fifty, but I want you on call for any emergency postings. If anything comes up, you’ll take the contract from me. Are we clear?”

“Clearer than ever,” Ryuuji replied, before Reina logged into her computer to arrange for a bank transfer. A few seconds later, a notification rang from Ryuuji’s phone.

“All set,” said Reina. “Now wait for my call, my dear Ronin. When shit hits the fan, like it always does, I’ll be there to point you where it’s most lucrative.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Reina,” Ryuuji made a short bow, and hastened to leave before Akari asked any more questions.

“But Ryuuji, about the Songstress,” she started, as her mentor took out his phone.

“She’s a myth,” Ryuuji replied. “Amaterasu has gone after her and returned home empty-handed. There’s no point for us to even try.”

“I know that,” said Akari. “But if we come up with a good enough plan…”

“We just got booked by Reina,” Ryuuji replied bluntly. “We’ll stay on standby until she calls. In the meantime, I’m sending you this.”

Akari’s phone rang with a familiar ding! — the SFX she used for bank transfer notifications, taken straight from her favorite video game.

“Seventy-five thousand!?” she exclaimed as she checked the message. “Ryuuji, you’ve giving me half?”

Their usual rate was seventy-thirty in Ryuuji’s favor, so it came as a surprise.

“You did good work today,” he said, ruffling her hair with his tough hand.

“Oh, stop it!” Akari replied bashfully, her mind all but forgetting the woman her boss did not want to think about.

The Wandering Songstress… a mysterious Kotodama user, powerful enough to be called a once in an era talent. She appeared out of nowhere, three years after the death of a fellow prodigy, Kisaragi Hotaru. To this day, the Songstress’ identity remained a secret, yet Ryuuji couldn’t shake the terrible feeling brewing in his gut.

“It can’t be her,” Ryuuji told himself, his eyes narrowed to a slit. “It cannot be.”