Chapter 5:

Aki the Hunted

Rat's Reason


The searing pain subsided in the cold night air but not by much. The trek down the sloping roads of the estate-ridden region added to my pain. As I got closer to the city, I found a vending machine and bought two cans of HydraSquared. It was the most expensive drink, but its composition had the highest water percentage. I opened the first and poured it over the burns on my right calf. The liquid fizzled. I could’ve sworn steam formed. The pain relief was immense; better than morphine, I bet. I opened the second and poured it on my left calf. A few seconds after the cans were drained, the pain began to resurface. I bought two more and repeated the process.

Some mothers and their children from the estates walked their dogs despite the late hour and took a moment to stare at me. They put their heads together as if whispering, but the volume made their words audible. A woman with auburn hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes complained about weirdos infesting the estates. The other thought I was mentally unstable and wanted to give me charity. She opened her purse and approached with 10,000 yen in one hand and her phone in the other to capture the moment of her immense and unprompted benevolence.

I scowled at the phone but accepted the yen. I used it to purchase more HydraSquared. The woman didn’t move away, as if expecting more of a reaction. ‘Thank you,’ I droned.

She had one of those well-trained saccharin smiles so characteristic of people living in the estates. ‘What’s your story, buddy?’

‘You wouldn’t believe me.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that.’ She pouted. ‘How did you end up in this neighbourhood?’

‘I live here.’

‘Of course you do.’ Her camera hadn’t moved. I flipped cyber-side and checked. Like I suspected, she was recording. ‘Are you having troubles at home?’ she asked.

I almost laughed. ‘Something like that.’ I gestured at my burned legs. She started to angle her phone toward them, noticed the gory injury, and refocused on my face.

‘C-Could I put this online?’ she said. ‘I actually think bringing attention to stories like yours could help reduce the number of—’

‘If I say yes, will you fuck off?’ I didn’t stay for her reaction. At the top of the hill, just outside the Yagi estate, a figure in a white tuxedo loomed. The two women followed my gaze. ‘He’s here.’

‘Who?’ Their ignorance reinforced my theory. Somehow nobody but me and my All-Seeing Granny could see Ennio, the Muted Man. Was he a hologram? No, I’d seen his footsteps affect the stones in the garden. Full-spectrum light ducts? But, tech like that wouldn't discriminate; I wouldn’t have been able to see him either. I had another, far more worrisome idea, but there wasn’t time to dwell.

Struggling to my feet, I hurried onward.

Unlike me, the physical state of Neo-III Tokyo was healthy and hale. The neon veins and carbon filament arteries coursed bright and true. Metal muscles and concrete flesh were pounded by millions of feet. For better or worse, the city was semi-autonomous. You could live in the heart and never interact with another human for months. In my younger years of anti-social tendencies, the notion excited me. But, as I plunged into the glowing realm, injured and pursued by a myth, an abject terror gripped my heart.

I didn’t want to be alone.

First, I needed treatment for my legs. I couldn’t afford a decent MechDoc on the street level, and I didn’t have time to deal with the Sumiaka-kai’s bureaucracy. Instead I caught a train to Nerima, and then a bus to a certain street with a certain alley. I pushed open an unmarked door of rusted iron and called out:

‘Taeko. Taeko!’

I’d entered a spacious room with concrete floor and corrugated steel walls, the space divided by translucent tarps. Tools fell off a counter and jingled across the ground. Taeko emerged from behind a tarp. She wore a grey jumpsuit and her green, pink, and gold hair was done up with various clips to resemble a lotus flower. ‘Aki? Aren’t you at home?’

‘I need your help.’ I hobbled to her surgery chair. Taeko was an apprentice street surgeon for a group associated with the Sumiaka-kai. She could’ve worked directly for the S-K or been a Venator, given her exceptional talent for combat even without cybernetics or biotech. The S-K lieutenants, including my parents, felt she squandered her abilities by messing around too much.

‘What happened?’

‘No time.’ I winced and motioned to my legs. Taeko swore and went to disinfect her hands. As she approached me, I caught a pungent whiff of alcohol. Right, Taeko had mentioned earlier in the evening that she’d be trying beer.

‘Can you help?’ I asked, suddenly unsure I’d come to the right person.

‘In all the time we’ve known each other, have I ever messed up an operation?’

‘…Yeah.’ I glanced at the serrated blades and vices on the counter. ‘Also, you’re drunk.’

‘I’m tipsy.’

‘Can you help me?’

Her head lolled from shoulder to shoulder. ‘If you can operate sober, you can operate drunk. That’s basic logic.’

‘That’s not—wait, so, are you tipsy or drunk?’

I screamed as Taeko splashed a clear fluid onto my legs. The pain intensified. I convulsed in the chair and gripped the arms’ peeling plastic. ‘Gotta keep it from getting infected,’ Taeko slurred.

‘Fucking warn me,’ I spat through my teeth.

Taeko shoved a strip of leather between my teeth. ‘Bite down,’ she warned. The next tool she grabbed looked like a blowtorch, but rather than fire it blew cold air onto the wounds. After some ointments and cotton dressings, she injected a pain reliever. ‘Sorry, should’ve started with that,’ she said, before removing the strip of leather. I’d left neat teeth marks on either side; the terrible leathery taste stayed in my mouth.

Taeko sighed. ‘That’ll do for now, but you won’t be able to walk for a while.’

‘What? No, I can’t stay here.’ I whirled to the left and right, as if expecting the Muted Man to burst through the nearest wall.

‘Even after they heal, it’ll probably hurt like hell.’ Taeko tapped a hacksaw against her thigh. ‘Honestly, we could amputate now and tomorrow swap them out for cyber. What’s your percentage?’

‘No! No way. I need to keep moving.’

‘O-o-o-kay. Options, options…’ She hummed. ‘I could fit you with some cheap temp-tech, but it might ping the cops.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Word is most of the clinics around here will get raided. Could happen tonight, could happen a week from now. It’s pretty routine. They come in and ask for operating papers, and then they leave with a different, more versatile kind of paper.’ She rubbed her fingers together.

‘I. Can. Not. Stay. Here.’ I started to rise. ‘Where’s the temp-tech?’

‘I’m telling you, if we get pinged, cops’ll be here in minutes. And my boss has the paper.’

‘Please, Taeko.’

Taeko sobered upon witnessing my desperation, and my intensity convinced her to help. Going to the far wall, she took a key from around her neck and unlocked a metal cabinet. ‘I’ll say it was a break-in,’ she said. ‘But you have to be gone in literally twenty seconds.’

‘I owe you. Whatever you want.’

‘Sex.’

‘W-What?’

‘My Rational Hedonism program. A few phases after beer is sex. Just oral, but I’m not crazy about most of my options.’

‘I know we’re good friends, but…’

Taeko’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, no—no, no, no, not with you. Ew. Your friend, Kei, can you introduce us?’

I sighed, unsure how to process the “ew” or Taeko’s request. ‘Sure,’ I replied.

Taeko removed what looked like a pair of ski boots from the cabinet. The front and back split apart to accommodate feet. She crouched and slid them onto me. The top reached below my knees. With a unique screwdriver, she adjusted the fitting until they were snug. A dull ache came from the burns making contact with the internal padding, but the pain reliever made it manageable. ‘Remember: Twenty seconds.’

I nodded. Taeko activated the boots. I followed the start-up instructions and the tech synchronised with the most miniscule movements of everything below my knees. I pushed to my feet. Pressure was taken off my calves, as the temp-tech took over. Ten seconds left. I thanked Taeko and went toward the door. Nine. Eight.

Sirens and red-blue light filled the alley outside. The door burst open.

‘That sure is a crazy response time,’ Taeko said, as police swarmed the room. They shouted instructions. I barely understood them. They shoved me against a wall and kept shouting. They did the same with Taeko. She talked to them. She didn’t have operating papers or a bribe.

‘I’m part of the Yagi clan,’ I said. ‘Check my shoulder.’

‘And I'm the Viper of Aquinor,’ said the policewoman at my back.

‘Just check my shoulder.’ My tattoo was right there, but nobody looked. They handcuffed Taeko and I, brought us to a van waiting outside, and set off for the station.

‘Could happen tonight, could happen a week from now,’ Taeko murmured. ‘Could happen in a few minutes.’

I craned my head. Through the rear window’s mesh, I spotted a man in a white tuxedo following on foot.

#

We reached the station, but after removing the temp-tech from my legs, I was transferred to the jail’s nearby clinic. I kept telling people to check my shoulder, and finally a doctor or nurse or whoever rolled up my sleeve. ‘Is that the Yagi emblem?’ they asked a colleague.

‘Is it?’ the colleague replied.

‘I don’t know. Should we report it?’

‘Which syndicate are the Yagi clan from?’

‘The Sumiaka-kai,’ I interjected. They ignored me. They scribbled details of my tattoo on a clipboard at the end of my bed and departed. I yelled after them about how their lives would be screwed when my parents found out. Not the most intimidating thing, shouting about your parents, but my mental state wasn’t exactly stable.

My belongings had been confiscated. I was handcuffed to the bedframe. The pain in my legs was renewed. The Muted Man still pursued me. Damn.

I hated the silence that followed, and I hated how much I loathed the solitude. Venators, in my mind, were solitary, self-sufficient beasts. Of all the things to make me distressed, solitude shouldn’t have been one. Impending death didn’t help my nerves, either.

Had the Muted Man given up? I doubted it. Well, did he plan to kill me or remove my tongue? Neither was good, obviously. Though, if I became a Venator, I could try building a reputation around being mute. The strong, silent type. No, no, I couldn’t give up. When I slipped into despair, I had a habit of compromising until I lost any benefit.

Focus, I thought.

I flipped cyber-side, but police stations and associated clinics had some serious net filters. Like, digitally making-radioactive-swamp-water-drinkable serious. If I was outside the net filters’ range I had a chance at hacking in, like I’d hacked the holographic borders, but I wasn’t primed with scripts or even a rudimentary interface. Besides, past the filters were ICEs. I knew how to hack, but I wasn’t a hacker. Leave that to the jockeys and cowboys.

What the filters did permit included a generic chatroom. I fished around with some messages about the Sumiaka-kai, but nobody took the bait. I resorted to begging someone to contact the S-K, which got a response but only to call me a derogatory term for man-who-uses-octopus-to-pleasure-himself.

I flipped real-side. I’d need to escape the old fashioned way. The clinic’s tiny room had a window barred with thick, criss-crossed steel. Not that way. The handcuff on my right wrist didn’t look too thick. I gave an experimental tug. My cybernetic upper body might have broken the chain, but I risked breaking my wrist.

Shit, I thought, and glanced at the door and barred window. No police. Good. There was an internal window, but the doctor and police in the reception area had their backs turned. Wait, was that…? I glanced at the barred window again. Among the sparse pedestrians a man in a white tuxedo strolled toward the clinic. Shit, shit, shit. No time to waste. I’d ruin my wrist, but I had a spare. Teeth clenched and veins prominent, I strained against the handcuffs. The metal cut into my skin and slickened with blood. 

The Muted Man rounded the street corner. I needed to keep pulling, but the pain became too great. I panted. He’ll be at the entrance in minutes. The door to my room burst open and slammed against the wall. Or sooner. But, it wasn’t the Muted Man who entered.

Serizawa Masako peeked around the threshold. ‘Evening, Aki.’ In addition to her singlet and shorts, Serizawa wore an ill-fitted doctor’s coat and weighty, knee-high boots with cowboy spurs. She whistled a slow, melodious tune. ‘Looks like you’ve had a busy night.’

‘What’re you doing here?’

‘I’ll confess, picking up a Syndikid from jail isn’t my ideal evening, but I have my reasons.’

‘Hurry up, then.’ Where was the Muted Man?

‘Can’t you see I’m going somewhere with this?’ Serizawa smiled. It took every ounce of self-control to force my mouth shut. ‘Look, you’re a good kid. Well, decent. Well, not the worst. Anyway, I get what you’re going through. My parents gave their licences to my younger brothers.’

‘Please, get on with it.’

‘That was I lie. I’m an only child. Figured it’d cheer you up, though.’

‘Please—’

‘You’re not getting a licence from your family. Don’t look surprised; your mommy called me. So, you have two options. First, tell me to piss off, work in the syndicate’s admin department, and enjoy your cushy life in a fancy “ancestral” home filled with banquets and tea ceremonies and all that fizz-and-glean.’

‘I’m begging you to get me out of here.’ The rattling of my handcuffs filled the room.

‘Or, second option, you inherit my Venator licence,’ Serizawa said, solemn and earnest. At this, I fell silent. Thoughts of the Muted Man fled my mind. I sat straighter.

‘You’re serious?’

‘Question or statement?’ She shrugged. ‘Of course, your reputation will take a hit. You’ll get disowned, too,’ she laughed.

‘It’s a faulty deal. You’re not getting anything.’

‘Wrong. You’re giving me the greatest gift of all.’ She pressed her fists against the side of the bed and leaned close. She smelled of cigarettes and sweat. ‘The chance to spite the Sumiaka-kai,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll think I’m corrupting you, poisoning the noble mind of a Yagi. It’s petty, but they already think I’m a bit of a bitch.’

‘Are you?’

‘I’ll have you know I’m a considerable bitch—’

‘Are you going to poison my mind?’

‘Someone has to. It’ll be a lot of work; you seem kinda uptight. Spite aside, you’ll owe me.’

‘Owe you what?’

‘You’ll see.’

I craned my head around Serizawa. The clinic’s main doors opened and the Muted Man entered the reception area. He was close enough to see the sheen on his black lapels. He walked past police and doctors like he owned the place. His eyes tracked me through the window. He pulled a barber’s straight razor from his inner pocket.

‘I’ll do it,’ I declared.

‘You’ll do what?’

‘I’ll owe you,’ I hastened. ‘Transfer your licence!’

I flipped cyber-side. Serizawa had done the same. I detected request-approval data flow, visualised by neon rows splitting like wheat and chaff. A second later the Muted Man entered the doorway and walked to the other side of my bed. No, no. The request was still pending. I couldn’t scream. The Muted Man reached for my mouth, razor bright in the clinic’s white light. His hand froze.

‘Done,’ Serizawa said. ‘Congratulations, Venator Yagi Akinori.’

My chest rose and fell. The culminated stress of the night crashed upon me. I almost pissed myself. Ennio, the Muted Man, straightened and retracted his razor. At the casino he’s spoken with a low, gravelly tone, but now it was silvery and ethereal:

‘I see your red string. It’s fraying, little boy. You’re an aberration and semi-daemon. You’re cursed with freedom.’

The Muted Man’s throat bobbed, as if struggling to swallow. He shook his head and spoke again, voice reverting to the low-gravelly style:

‘I’m sorry Yagi Tatsuya had to die.’

My breath came sharp and thin. Did I mishear? No, he was definitely involved. ‘Why?’ I asked.

Serizawa frowned at me. ‘Why what?’ She, too, couldn’t see the Muted Man.

The Muted Man seemed to see through me. ‘He longed for the curse and the curse for others.’ Efficient and inhuman, he left the room.

I’d survived.

#

Despite the unconventional situation, police couldn’t keep a Venator imprisoned. I asked about Taeko without expectations, but they instantly freed her. With my temp-tech returned, I walked from the clinic without pain.

I got a notification and flipped cyber-side. It was a message from Mother. I dreaded the impending reprimand but opened it anyway.

Mother: Where are you, Aki?

Aki: Nerima. I’m with Serizawa Masako.

Mother: I sent her.

Aki: Why?

Mother: Has she agreed to transfer her Venator licence to you?

Aki: What’s this about?’

Mother: Has she?

Aki: She’s done it already.

Mother: Use it well. If this “Muted Man” murdered Tatsuya, you must end him. Whatever it takes. End his life.

(I hesitated and typed a few responses before deciding.)

Aki: I promise.

I flipped real-side, stunned but not surprised by Mother’s message. She always loved Tatsuya the most. He was the golden child, made all the brighter by the relative inadequacy of Ginjiro and I, second and third sons respectively.

As for Serizawa, Mother had contacted her to ask about the Muted Man, which led to Serizawa hearing about my flight from the estate. Getting arrested actually made it easier to find me.

‘Where’s the nearest station?’ I asked Taeko.

Serizawa spun keys around her finger. ‘No need.’

‘I can make my own way home.’

‘You’re not going home.’

I bowed to Serizawa. ‘Thank you for saving me. I’ll repay my debt, but I’m about to pass out.’

‘I wasn’t joking about you getting disowned. In a couple hours, everyone in the Sumiaka-kai will know my licence got transferred to you. At best, it’s uncouth. At worst, you’re declaring risky intentions.’ She ran a hand through her matted hair. ‘Wolves and sheep don’t live together. For better or worse, you and I, we’re all we’ve got.’

It took a moment to process her words. If it weren’t for the temp-tech on my feet, I would’ve fell to my knees. Despair like a dark miasma lingered at the edge of my consciousness. Venator licences were interesting, dynamic things. They weren’t just licences for funding and fame. They didn’t just mean a person fought against the Rat King. They were statements, declarations, lineages, dynastic seeds, heirlooms.

Taeko put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Aki.’

‘This can’t be happening.’

‘It’s what it’s,’ Serizawa shrugged, and tapped buttons on her keys. Her motorcycle started up. ‘Let’s go, Venator Aki.’ Her wild laughter pierced the night. 

Dazed, I followed Serizawa. Taeko’s hand slipped off my shoulder. For the second time that day, I got on the back of Serizawa’s motorcycle. I peered at her back, down her singlet. She had that tattoo: A sheep eating a wolf carcass. It felt wrong, wrapping my arms around her torso. She felt cold as a corpse and I was close behind.