EPISODE 2: Nerves of Steel — CHAPTER 2: She Has Silver Hair and a Sharp Tongue — PART 2

When he was certain no one had followed him, Bastion breathed a sigh of relief. It was easy to ignore pain in the middle of a fight, but now he felt every injury that hadn’t fully healed.

His right side, in particular, throbbed.

He took a dirt path up the bank between a pair of bushes and popped out onto a road that wound along the river into the mountains. He began walking back toward town, grumbling with each and every step.

Kitayama-ku was technically a ward of Meiroshima proper, but it was so far north it might as well have been the boonies. It was a quiet, peaceful place—when monsters weren’t trying to rip Bastion’s head off—and he’d lived there all his life.

For Shit-weasel to bring an entire gang of yankii up here, Bastion’s reputation must’ve been spreading deep into the inner wards of the city.

That wasn’t a good thing.

Bastion liked fighting. A lot.

But he didn’t like getting dragged into other people’s stupid, pointless turf wars.

Unfortunately, when his blood got pumping, that’s usually exactly what happened. Even without access to any fancy magic powers, Bastion could beat the shit out of any teenager from here to Edo—and he had the Karate trophies to prove it.

Now, though, he just wanted to make Yui happy.

She would not be happy that he’d gotten into another fight—she was the only person he never kept secrets from.

Well, you’re keeping one now.

Bastion felt a stabbing pain in his gut that had nothing to do with his injuries.

Hopefully, these Deadmen can help make it so that’s not necessary anymore.

They were certainly unorthodox, employing a teenager like Alice to spy on him. Then again, the girl could throw a punch as well as anyone Bastion had ever met. It was uncanny how strong she was.

Before he knew it, Bastion had walked—without even needing to think about it—all the way to the Kitayama-ku train stop. At this time of day, there wasn’t even anyone manning the ticket booth. He fed his zen into the ticket machine, set his destination for the Meiroshima University stop, and walked through the gate to the platform without needing to show it to anyone.

Of course, when he got to his destination, he’d need to show his ticket. But Kitayama-ku was about as inaka as you could get without actually disappearing into the mountains of Urokojima, never to be seen again.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like every time he watched the train continue along its route into the middle of ass-crack nowhere.

He found a good spot on the platform to sit and glanced north. The valley only stayed open for a few more kilometers before hitting a wall of mountains, where the Ota River continued its snaking course to its origin somewhere deep in the heart of the country.

Almost an hour after leaving the riverside—nearly to the minute—a silver-haired figure in a seifuku uniform from Northern Meiroshima High entered the platform. She wore a long-sleeve shirt for the weather and a thicker skirt with either tights or really high socks—Bastion wasn’t going to check—and she looked very pleased with herself.

“Well, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d handle the cops.”

“If I say I’ll do something, I’ll do it,” Alice replied, smoothing her skirt.

“What exactly did you tell them?”

“That these big, mean, scary boys had dragged me down to the river to convince me to become one of their groupies. I’d been so scared, when a hero appeared and rescued me. Why, if he hadn’t arrived, who knows what they would’ve done to me?”

She batted her eyes innocently.

“Gods, but you are terrifying,” Bastion breathed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Alice reached into her bag and pulled out a water bottle. She offered it to him.

“Want a sip?”

“I’ll pass,” Bastion said.

“You’ve gotta be thirsty.”

“I am.”

“Then take some of my water.”

“Fine.”

He took the unopened bottle, popped the top, and drank the entire thing in one swig before crushing the plastic in his hands and slipping it into his pocket.

“Well that’s just rude,” she said.

“I’m not sharing a bottle with you.”

“And why not? Afraid of an ‘indirect kiss?’”

“Afraid?” Bastion shrugged. “No. But I’m not giving you any ammo to mess with me.”

“You know, you’re trying not to be fun, but it just makes you more delightful to antagonize.”

Bastion groaned and stared up into the sky. A few big, puffy clouds lazed slowly across the blue expanse.

“Are all Deadmen crazy, or is it just the ones I’ve met so far?” he asked.

“We’re no crazier than you are,” Alice said primly.

“Shit.”

“In any case, I’m not actually a Deadman. They’d catch so much trouble if they employed a sweet, innocent girl like me.”

“Calling yourself sweet and innocent doesn’t make it so.”

“But don’t you know, Bastion? I’ve never even had my first kiss.”

“Let me know when you do. I’ll throw you a party.”

“You are so very cruel.” She sighed, then continued. “In any case, I’m not a Deadman. My daddy is.”

“Huh.” Bastion supposed that made sense.

“I guess you could say he’s the Deadman. Did you know the first branch of D.E.A.D. was established here in Meiroshima?”

Bastion did not know that.

“Yep. My dad’s a war vet. When he got out, he realized an awful lot of miners and surveyors got lost down in the Dungeon. So he asked the Mayor if he could form a special unit in the police force, and got approval to go hunting lost souls in the depths. Originally, there were only five people. Now there are branches all across Urokojima. Even other countries in the Arken Federation are trying it out.”

“Your dad founded the Deadmen?” Bastion asked, incredulous.

“Yep. And I guess being his little girl has its perks. For one, I grew up around D.E.A.D. Never realized it was strange that I could shoot an M16 until I was in middle school. All the other girls were busy with makeup, and I could take apart a rifle with a blindfold on, put it back together, and shoot a fly on the ass of an elephant from a hundred meters away.”

Bastion couldn’t tell if she was bullshitting him or not, but Alice seemed dead serious. Either she was as good of a liar as she claimed—or she was telling the truth.

“So when Daddy asked me to keep an eye on you, I thought, ‘Why not?’ I certainly didn’t have much better to do.”

“Your dad, the founder of the Deadmen, specifically asked you to keep an eye on me?”

She seemed puzzled by Bastion’s question. “Of course. You just met him the other day.”

Bastion’s jaw dropped as he put two and two together. “Arthur Belford is your dad?”

“Uh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Sorry, I don’t automatically assume every Darvor I meet is related.”

She rested her chin on her hand. “For real, though—you didn’t know who I was?”

“Should I have?” Bastion asked, slightly concerned.

“I suppose not.”

Alice stretched her hands high over her head and yawned. “In any case, our train should be here shortly. We’ll be a few hours early today, but Kojima will be happy to have her new play toy.”

Bastion didn’t like the sound of that, but then again, he’d already known what the doctor was like before agreeing to this arrangement. If he regretted what was coming, he would only have himself to blame.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Alice, “how did you kill the monster?”

“I didn’t—” Bastion began to deny the claim on reflex, then remembered Alice was one of the few people who actually knew what really happened that day. But if Arthur hadn’t told her the whole story, it probably meant Bastion shouldn’t either.

“Truth be told,” he said quietly, “I got lucky.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” Alice said. “But even the luckiest person in the world still would have died that night. So what made the difference for you?”

Bastion stared at his hands. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

She flicked him in the forehead. “Don’t be stupid.”

“It was your dad, in the first place, who told me not to tell anyone. If I get caught, everyone who helped me is going to jail.”

“Then don’t get caught,” Alice shrugged. “Look, even if you don’t tell me now, I’ll just make Kojima tell me later. And if you’re so worried about plausible deniability, nobody’s going to buy that I didn’t know about whatever it is you did. So it’s better that you tell me yourself so I don’t get any wrong ideas.”

Bastion frowned. On the one hand, he wasn’t entirely sold by Alice’s logic.

On the other hand, she was the closest thing to normal he’d seen from the Deadmen so far.

And he needed to talk to someone about this power Fen had given him.

“Screw it. Fine.”