The Clockwork Ticks

The wind over Kanazawa did not just howl; it whistled through the gaps in the newly erected telegraph wires like a choir of the damned. In the heart of the city, the snow was no longer white. It was stained by the soot of progress and, increasingly, the rust of old blood.

Major Taniguchi was a man of the New Order of Meiji. He had served at the Siege of Kumamoto and wore his Western-style medals with a pride that bordered on arrogance. He was the man tasked with overseeing the "Civilization and Enlightenment" of the Kanazawa district.

Meanwhile Tatsuo, a fourteen-year-old telegraph runner with a tattered cap and frostbitten ears, hurried down the flickering corridor of the Records Department. He clutched a leather satchel containing an urgent, encrypted wire from the capital regarding the transport of the rebel Kōdō Arinori. His boots, sole-worn and damp, made a rhythmic slap-slap against the cold linoleum—a Western luxury that felt like ice beneath his feet.

He reached the heavy oak double doors of the central records room. He expected to find Major Taniguchi hunched over a desk, nursing a glass of imported brandy and a stack of tax ledgers.

Instead, he found the heat.

As Tatsuo pushed the door open, a wave of sweltering, metallic-smelling air rolled over him. The room was unnaturally hot, the steam pipes glowing a dull, angry orange in the corners. The gas lamps had been turned up so high they shrieked, casting long, frantic shadows across the labyrinth of filing cabinets.

"Major?" Tatsuo whispered, his voice cracking.

The only response was a rhythmic, mechanical tink... tink... tink...

Tatsuo stepped deeper into the room, his eyes following a trail of dark, viscous liquid that steamed on the floor. It led directly to the massive iron vault door at the back of the room.

Major Taniguchi was not seated. He was integrated.

The room was a sensory nightmare.

---

The scent of ozone from a shattered gas lamp mingled with the thick, copper stench of a butchered man. Taniguchi was not merely dead; he had been integrated. He was slumped against a heavy mahogany desk, his chest cavity held open by silver retractors—the same surgical precision that had claimed Master Sakamura.

But where Sakamura had been a clock, Taniguchi was a weapon. His right arm had been meticulously flayed, the muscles stripped to expose the white of the bone. In place of his hand, a series of brass pistons and gears had been hammered into the marrow, connecting his fingers to the trigger mechanism of a disassembled rifle. His heart was not in a bell jar this time; it was suspended by piano wire from the ceiling, dripping rhythmically onto a stack of tax records.

"It’s him," whispered a young officer, his face turning a sickly grey. "The Clockwork Butcher."

The Lead Inspector, a man whose soul had been hardened by the Boshin War, knelt by the body. He didn't look at the gore. He looked at the wall. Three holes had been punched through the plaster, perfectly centered behind where the Major’s head had been.

He reached into the debris with a pair of tweezers and pulled out a small, mangled piece of lead. He held it up to the flickering light.

"Surgical tools for the body," the Inspector muttered, his eyes narrowing. "But these... these aren't from a soldier's rifle."

He rolled the bullet between his fingers. It was a small caliber, rimfire lead. Distinct. Foreign.

"A Smith & Wesson Tip-Up. Model 2," he said, the realization settling like frost in the room. "The kind of belt pistol used by high-ranking assassins at least 10 years ago.. or... those with connections to the old underworld. We aren't looking for a surgeon..

We’re looking for a Kisakago."

---

Meanwhile in the deep, silent belly of Shirakawa-go, the atmosphere was a different kind of heavy. Jinko and Danjiki stood in the Great Hall of the village head, a space dominated by the massive, smoke-blackened pillars of the gassho-zukuri architecture.

The Village Head stood, he wasn't the same one who had lectured Jinko 10 years ago lighting a fire of conviction to protect his loved ones when Tenmichi was kidnapped, but rather that now deceased man's brother. He poked at the embers with a long iron rod, the orange glow illuminating the deep lines of a century’s worth of secrets.

"You ask for permission to leave during the Great Snow," the Head said, his voice a dry rasp. "You ask to walk into the mouth of the beast."

"Things ain't lookin' good Old Man.." Jinko's jaw set tight. "And Tenmichi... she’s out there alone in a city that wouldn't hesitate to jist imprison any suspicious folk with a mountain accent."

The Village Head looked up, his eyes milky but sharp. "Do not mistake the city for a battlefield you understand, Jin-kun. In the mountains, if a tree falls, we know why. In Kanazawa, men fall because of words written on paper by people they will never meet. That is the 'Law' they speak of. It is a blade that has no hilt; it cuts everyone who touches it."

He leaned forward, the smoke from the hearth curling around his head. "You must worry about the 'Lead' as much as the 'Law.' The Meiji do not miss. They have guns that fire faster than a man can breathe. But more than that, worry about the 'Stain.' If you go there and somehow are forced to spill blood to retrieve one girl, you bring the eyes of the Emperor to these thatched roofs. You risk the fire for the sake of a single spark."

Danjiki bowed low. "We understand the weight, Elder. But if we let the city consume our own without a fight, then we are already dead. We’d just be waiting for the snow to bury us."

The Elder sighed, a sound like wind through dry leaves. "Go then. But remember: in the city, the truth is a luxury. Only the gears matter. Do not get caught in them."

---

As they stepped out of the Great Hall into the blinding white of the village square, a figure intercepted them.

Aika stood there, her face pale, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was clutching a letter, the paper damp with melted snow.

"Jin..ko.." she quietly muttered.

"Aika? What's-- What's wrong?!," Jinko said, his heart skipping a beat at the desperation in her eyes.

"Mm."

"Huh? Say something!"

"It’s.. It's my father," she whispered, her voice breaking. "The trial in the capital... it’s over. Kōdō Arinori has been sentenced. They are moving him to Kanazawa for a public execution on the 28th.. The same day as... as the one they set for the Butcher."

The silence that followed was absolute.

"Two birds with one stone," Danjiki growled, his hand tightening on his pack. "They’re clearing the board. They’ll hang the 'Monster' and the 'Rebel' on the same gallows to show the world that the Old Japan is truly finished."

Jinko looked toward the mountain pass, "Or... They planned to act like they'll catch the Butcher with surety because they knew they could just frame the Kōdōkai for this.." 

"Meaning they'd lose public support even more huh?" Danjiki replied.

Aika furrowed her eyebrows, the public support and the fight for democracy seemed to fleet away. The stakes had just doubled. It wasn't just about a frame-up anymore. It was a race against a scheduled massacre.

"We have to pull Tenmichi out," Jinko said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register. "Before she tries to do whatever shenanigan she went there to do herself. And we have to find a way to stop that execution."

"Find Tenmichi, save the Kōdō head, and don't get hanged ourselves," Danjiki muttered, a grim smirk touching his lips. "Only a maniac, right?"

"Haha. Right.," Jinko replied, already moving.

"B-But Jinko.." Aika was unsure, caught up in her own emotions.

Jinko notices her uncharacteristic insecurity and walks over to her, "Quite not-you to be so upset, especially the way you were shouting at me when I lost all hope when the Meiji arrived, don't ye think Ai-chan?"

This was the second time he ever uttered that nickname, again, to comfort her when she felt uneasy. 

He puts his hand over her head in a patting way and utters "Don't you worry..

I'll protect everyone."

---

Back in Kanazawa, the Metropolitan Police Headquarters hummed with a predatory energy. In a room lit by the harsh, unwavering light of new gas lamps, the Lead Inspector sat across from a man in civilian clothes—a spy recently returned from the mountain trails.

"Sightings?" the Inspector asked."Confirmed, sir," the spy replied. "A girl. Late teens. Fits the description provided by our contacts in Shirakawa-go. She’s been seen near the Nagamachi district and the old shrine. She’s traveling under a hood, but she moves like a shadow. She's disciplined. Dangerous."

The Inspector tapped the Smith & Wesson bullet against the desk. Clack. Clack. Clack.

"The daughter of Kisakago Keisakai," the Inspector mused. "The yakuza princess is in my city, and she’s brought her father’s toys with her. We don't know her goal but we can be sure of one thing..

She's our leading suspect as the Clockwork Butcher."

"But sir, I thought we intended to tell the public that Kōdō Arinori's party is behind all the slaughterings, essentially to cause public discourse, did we not?" A young officer questions.

"That we did youngling, but we gotta solve this case before he's killed incase the murders keep happening even after he dies." 

"Then why did we.. with such surety announce we will find him before the 28th?" The young officer asked again.

The Leading Inspector leaned forward holding the bullet eye-to-eye, "This kind of proof being left behind is exactly why..

..If we find the Butcher before the 28th we execute him beside Arinori and say they're both acquainted. If we don't find him we say Arinori's death will stop it by scaring whoever is doing it..

Either way, we stop Meiji's No.1 public opposer, the Kōdōkai and put an end to the democratic belief they were raising amongst the public."

He looked at a map of Kanazawa, pinned with red needles.

"That girl doesn't realize she’s already in the cage.. A cage full of games played by adults," the Inspector said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Increase the patrols in the Musashigatsuji market. If she shows her face again, do not arrest her. Follow her. She will lead us to the rest of the mountain rats that are probably working with her. By the 28th, I want every one of them in chains."

Outside, the snow continued to fall, burying the city in a silence that was about to be broken by the sound of gears, lead, and the screams of a world refusing to die.

Our parties are now divided with many goals. Tenmichi is seemingly murdering important people situated in Kanazawa while searching for Saitou Ichirō. Jinko, Danjiki and Aika will depart for Kanazawa to retrieve her before she's imprisoned due to her status regardless of if she's guilty or not, while planning to exploit the execution of Aika's father Kōdō Arinori.