Chapter 1:

Desperado

The Katana Under Our Breath


Torrential downpour and the steam emitting off the dark pavement was painting an ominous feeling to the already bustling, yet unnerving summer moment in Kyoto. The flashing neon lights coated the foggy ambience in bright pinks, reds, and blues as the billboards, both high and low, advertised every addictive venue imaginable. Between the newest attractive downloadable private dancer, highly rated sense-indulging digestible pastes, and classic enhancements for every part of the body, there was something for everyone’s tastes and types. However, tonight a new attraction will be the talk of the evening and many more to come for all of Japan’s Kansai region, as well as those surrounding it.

Just outside the entertainment lot was a secluded old building made of aged bricks. Inside it was young Xion Mizuno, and at the age of 16 he’d certainly been dealt his fair share of struggles amidst Japan’s internal conflicts. Instead of learning in school, he was working in a warehouse that shipped hazardous materials throughout the region. These materials powered today’s generators and hovertrains, supplying the rest of Japan with the needs to thrive in the day and glow at night.

Accompanied by his orange hardhat and teal facial mask, Xion placed his hand against the scanner that was mounted to the wall, signifying he was done for the day. It flashed red, emitted an aggravating beep, and to Xion’s displeasure, it refused to cooperate. Just then a bulky gloved hand planted onto his shoulder, startling him.
“Young man, let me take it from here” his bearded boss smiled from behind. He too was wearing a mask, this one yellow with a radiation symbol mixed with a smiley face across it. The man glanced both ways before lowering his head above Xion’s shoulder. “I’ll be there at 9” he said with a quieter and uncharacteristically serious tone.
Xion returned a faint laugh, then approached the door, turning back to see his boss’s reassuring smile. “Thank you Mr Sakuma ” he bowed quickly before heading out to the sound of beeping from behind.

Today marked Xion’s 2nd year at Wasteland Warehouse, and although the pay was unfair, albeit justified, he couldn’t complain. Ever since his mother had become bedridden with a rare disease this was the reality of life now. The work was simple. Placing labels on the correct boxes, and occasionally pushing said boxes around on dolleys wherever indicated, just as his mother had done before him. Touched by his mother’s unfortunate illness, Mr Sakuma was gracious enough to offer Xion the position his mother previously held, which gave him a means to just barely support his family, all at the simple cost of missing school.

After those 2 years Xion had saved up enough to purchase the newest trend: Medical nanomachines. These experimental small A.I. controlled robots were programmed by unlicensed doctors to heal specified bodily issues without growingly expensive trips to hospitals. Of course these were littered with risks, but Xion was quick to overlook, knowing that with these there was a chance he could finally help his mother back to her feet, out of bed, and their lives could return to some normality.

A few minutes just outside their capsule was the local market where merchants could rent slots throughout the courtyard for 24, 48, or 168 hour periods per month. This promoted competition and naturally regulated products throughout the region. The nanomachine booth Xion had scouted was there all week, just his luck. After cooking dinner for his mother, he quickly left the Mizuno household’s capsule, bringing along a fresh outfit to take the elevator down. He pressed the ground floor button and watched as the lights flickered as they always did, but as the doors slid closed, a voice called out suddenly.
“Wait!”
Xion stuck a foot out, causing the doors to open back up to reveal his best friend, who was noticeably out of breath, Kazue Kinoskue.

His spiky blood red hair complimented the overall rockstar appearance, complete with fingerless gloves, black boots with red hues emitting beneath the soles, opal ear piercing, and a band t-shirt sporting a large palm tree smoking from a pipe.

His best friend had also worked alongside him after school as Xion had gotten him a job there about 2 months ago. The only difference between the two was that Kazue tended to talk a lot more than actually performing his job. While Kazue was hot headed from time to time, Xion didn’t mind the company.

After shuffling in, the two waited until the doors shut, and then high fived.
“So you got the money then?” Kazue smiled.

“Yeah! I made just enough this week” Xion returned the excitement.

“Everything is going according to plan then.” Kazue slid down against the back wall of the elevator as the lights flickered once more. “How’s your mom feeling?”
“Same as yours I think,” Xion said as he glanced down to see Kazue’s concerned red eyes looking back up at him. It turned out his mother wasn’t the only mother affected by this rare disease. “They’re hanging in there for us, and that’s why this has to work.” He then stared directly ahead at the poster advertising the same booth the two planned to purchase from.
“So…uh, did you tell her where you’re going tonight?” Kazue nervously tapped his foot, emitting loud thuds against the aging floor of the elevator.
“No. I made her dinner and left just after I got home from work.”
“Cool,” he failed to say confidently, “mine doesn’t know either.”

Although cheaper than a doctor’s visit, medical nanomachines were restricted for the usage of those 18 and older. Anyone discovered selling to minors could be sentenced to execution, or if the region’s reigning Daimyo was feeling generous, a hot iron branding alongside lifelong servitude. Since Kazue was only 17 there was no legal way for either of them to obtain the desired nanomachines for at least a year. They would need someone else to.

“Mr Sakuma said he’d do it,” Xion carefully said after a moment of quiet descension.

“Sakuma? You crazy man? That’s our fricking boss!” his concerns echoed off the rusted walls, and his stare had returned back at Xion’s pale green eyes. “That’s insane you had the balls to even ask..”

“Well who else were we going to ask? Our mothers are paralyzed, your father is overseas, and mine…” The unfortunate loss of his father had occurred 3 years ago during an old building’s dismantlement that crushed him below. Xion averted his gaze, “there’s just not many options.”

“I’d trust your deceased father over almost any other living person” Kazue stood up to Xion’s level, putting things bluntly. “There’s a chance Sakuma screwballs us. You know that right?” Kazue’s outstretched finger pressed against Xion’s chest.
“Course I do.”
Kazue returned his back against the wall after retracting his finger, though he remained standing.
“So how much do you trust him, seriously? I work for the guy, but I don’t even know what kind of music he listens to,” he grinned, “heh, and I know what music everybody likes..”
“More than anybody we’re going to find out on the street” Xion folded his arms. “He gave me a job.”
While these medical nanomachines weren’t exactly expensive, it was still a hefty amount for two teenagers working for half wage. Although every bit of their combined earnings would be more than enough to pay for the product, it was their neutral party the concern was for. Hopefully the extra yen would be a decent enough bribe for the compensation of their boss.

There would not be much more time to contemplate as the elevator had reached their destination on the ground floor.
“Have a wonderful day!” the elevator’s service voice stated.

Rain had been dripping down from the overhang, and the streets were as packed as any other night. Pedestrians of all shapes and sizes were here. Some with cybernetic arms, others with scintillating violet visors. The variety was plentiful, and combined with the street signs, billboards, stores and shops, and the occasional microchip vending machines, there wasn’t ever a dull sight in the bustling city of Kyoto.


Compared to Kazue, Xion was ever slightly more casually dressed, but he did not stick out in the slightest. His long black hair was tied up in a nice bun, bringing about a sense of maturity even with a young face. The small identical bracelets on each arm, just below the sleeves of his black jumper, simultaneously glowed orange, while the belt around his jet black trousers stayed a constant bright tangerine color. His black shoes, though apparently normal, were “special”. No laces, with 2 orange straps across each.

Appearance had become a culturally accepted field, now a gateway for conversation and compliments. Even as the population tended to keep to themselves, nobody shied away from tossing the occasional comment towards a passerby when deemed worthy. This was true as Kazue and Xion perused the open street.
“Bro that band is sick!” a guy fist bumped Kazue
“Your color combination is sooo hot!” a girl praised Xion
“Think she likes you” Kazue nudged Xion after they’d passed, though Xion was not amused. “Sorry about earlier by the way. Didn’t want to be a jerk and just pretend it didn’t happen, I’ve just been stressed out.”
“Come on, you're fine Kazue. I’d have reacted the same way..”
“Nah, you’re the quiet one” he wrapped an arm around his friend’s neck, playfully yanking.
“Or just more restrained” Xion sighed.
Just up ahead was the predetermined meetup point.

Though usually optimistic, Xion had daydreamed throughout the day of worse-case scenarios. For instance, upon arrival, a swarm of drones hiding in the shadows would jump and kidnap them, or Mr Sakuna rips off his clothes to reveal a police uniform beneath everything, however improbable those were. The humorous imagery was the only thing keeping Xion from displaying his own stress.

“Boys!” Mr Sakuna waved with a hand welcoming them forward, the other hand grasping an overflowing large mug of beer. He’d been standing just near a virtual jukebox, browsing the projected images from a tiny box with his hand motions across the selections. A large opened chest with a few scattered leather bags inside sat on the ground next to him. He wasn’t dressed particularly interesting aside from his Americianized cowboy hat.
“Mr Sakuna!” Kazue ran towards his boss, extending a hand.

“Please, just call me Jenki. No need to be so formal outside of work!” his free hand planted atop Kazue’s head, ruffling it relentlessly.
Xion smiled, stepping forward and unveiling the leather bag of yen from his pocket, prompting his friend to do the same.
“Boys, boys, I haven’t even begun my song yet!” an uncontrollable giggle bellowed out. “Please wait for my performance,” he said with a wink, selected a song with a finger press, and held up a clenched fish in front of his chin. A slow melody accompanied by a piano then played, to which Jenki began to sing along to, and shortly into his act a small crowd began to gather. This was the sign to toss in their leather bags, which they did, but oddly enough they hadn’t accounted for audience members to also do the same. By the end of the song, you couldn’t see the bottom of Jenki’s chest, but you could see the bottom of his beer mug, and many more to come.
With a humble bow, and a hat twirl, he waved off the crowd members before retrieving the now-closed chest.

“Mr Sak-I mean, Jenki, that was awesome…even if it was country music” Kazue grinned.
“Been doin this for a long while now. Singing’s kinda my pride and joy. Now listen up here,” he continued while slurring the occasional word. “Both of you two are gonna grab 1- no, make that 2 bags to take home, and chances are you’ll end up with a few thousand yen. You both were gonna pay me a modest sum, so it’s the least I could do for you for working your tails off for me.” He held the chest wide open as both friends gazed inside like dogs watching a bone.

“Jenki, that's really kind of you” Xion smiled, idolizing the large man. Taking his 2 random bags, and watching as Kazue spent time pondering which bags to grab, before finally being teased by Jenki slowly closing the lid and frantically picking 2, the friends set off, waving Jenki goodbye together.
“See you two soon then” he smiled, then hiccuped.


“Alright! Stop glaring at me man, he surpassed my expectations okay” Kazue howled as the two lined up for yakitori. Not too far away they could see Mr Sakuna approaching the nanomachine merchant.

“We got money back, how am I supposed to not glare?” Xion couldn’t contain his giddy smile. He watched as the chef ahead began to douse the skewers in tare sauce that would only sweeten the evening that much more. “And we got a pretty good song out of it too.”

“The song was fine, I could’ve done it better though.”
“Though you weren’t a fan of country?” Xion’s smile widened.
“Look! I-” Kazue rubbed the back of his head.
The chef held out their dinner, yet before they could retrieve the skewers, or Kazue could return a half-baked answer, something else had stolen their attention.
Mr Sakuna had successfully purchased the nanomachines and was now walking the opposite way.
“You told him we wanted those nanomachines tonight, right…?” Kazue panned over to his surprised friend. “Not at work, or at some other location? So we can get our mothers healed faster?”
“Yes. I get it, and I agree. I’ll go talk to him” Xion’s eyebrows were raised. “Maybe he forgot from all that drinking.”

“Or he’s screwballing us.”
“He’s not,” “he can’t be,” he thought.
“Well I’m coming with you anyways” Kazue stated as he grabbed both steaming yakitori skewers and followed his friend. They saw their boss fade away behind the corner of a deserted complex, fitted with shattered windows and accumulated trash along with the insertion marks along the wall. Upon peeking around the corner they saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just a man relieving himself.
Xion pulled Kazue back. “See,” his relieved smirk appeared.
“No, I didn’t want to see that,” he said before the banging against a door could be heard from the same alleyway. Both heads returned around the wall.
“Little girl, you in there?” Jenki’s drunken tone seemingly demanded as his free fist twated relentlessly while the chest of yen wobbly bounced in the other arm. “Ain’t got much tiiiiiiiiime!”

The door finally opened wide, revealing a much smaller girl in both size and height than Jenki. Her medium cut dark brown strands stretched just past her shoulders onto the torn blanket around her neck similar to a scarf, much like the rest of her apparel. Worn hoodie with a faded turtle on the front, ripped bermuda shorts, and socks with holes like swiss cheese. Somehow that building seemed more and more like her home.

“Couldn’t dressup any better eh?” Jenki’s gut had nearly pressed against the girl, but she held a neutral face, looking up at the bloated folk. “Eh, it’s okay you ain’t lookin so bad and I’d definitely still sleep with yah!” he smiled, sticking out his chin as if he gave the greatest compliment. The girl held out a small leather bag, to which Jenki swiftly plucked from her frail hands. He untied it, turned it over, and watched as the coins clanked against the concrete below.
Her brown eyes spoke for her. Wide open, agasp at the sight of her remaining currency spilt before the two of them, returning to his smug look, but she held her tongue.
“That ain’t the stuff I want, but if you don’t got it” Jenki lurched forward, grabbing the collar of her hoodie, pulling her forward close enough to smell the musk and alcohol emitting off, “you’ll be fine instead.”
Finally Kazue stepped out from hiding along with Xion at his side, who held both skewers of food.
“Hey dirtbag, you know those nanomachines were for us!” Kazue’s fists both were clenched, taking one step forward as he shouted.

Jenki squinted down the alleyway, still with a tight grip around the fabric. “Can’t see the bitch that just said that, but I know that annoying voice anywhere. So why don’t you scram and let me handle business my way Kazue Kinoskue.”
“Hell no! Not without our nanomachines” another step was taken forward.
“Well unforturrrchantly for you I found a better deal!”
“You mean you found a better victim.” Knuckles cracked close enough Jenki could hear them and had finally begun to see him. “I was going to report you, but I think I’ll just kick your ass instead if you think-”
The chest of money dropped with a large thud, along with the coins that jingled inside. Jenki reached into the right pocket of his pants, pulling out a pistol colored in black and blue carbon paint, and pointed it down the alleyway. “You ain’t gonna even get the chance boy!”
This prompted Xion to jump out and run towards the two as pure adrenalin propelled him to. The girl Jenki held had also begun to shake and wiggle with any attempt to escape.
“PLEASE!” he stretched out his hands, “Mr Sakuna, we’ll pay you double, just don’t shoot and don’t hurt that girl!”
“Xion? Jenki was momentarily bewildered, “what are you doin out here lad? And why are you sticking out your neck for that sorry punk? You’re a good kid y’know. Shouldn't be hanging with the trash.” He turned his face to his gun, pulling the attachment back and fully cocking it. “Here, I’ll take out that trash for you.”
“NOO!!!” Xion screamed, lunging himself forward at all his might as the skewers fell into the puddles below. The distance was at least 20 steps between the two, but he’d had hoped to distract Jenki for a single second. Enough time for the girl to escape. Long enough for him to reach the gunman. A chance for his friend to evade.
Jenki adjusted his aim and fired at the new approaching target, Xion Mizuno.
Bang.

A silver color obscured his eyes, provoking his body to fall backwards. From above, a katana hung down, gripped by a figure dressed in all black who was free falling. In one effortless movement, the blade swung, knocking the bullet astray, with the blade being close enough that Xion could see his own reflection off it.
Without a single moment’s pause, they landed feet first, then leapt off the walls of the alleyway in a bullet-like blur of color that was nearly impossible to track. Jenki fired off every round frantically, letting his grip around the girl go, yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs and retreating down the alley, but instead of bullets connecting, it was the blade that had.
Every directional slice in whirlwind fashion was deliberately taken, each with enough precision and strength to reach bone. His body ragdolled around while the swordsman flew around, and then silence followed. Jenki’s torn body fell at the feet of the young girl.

Given a single moment, Xion would not forget his savior’s appearance, nor would those with him. The slender body did not show a single inch of skin, with black covering them from almost head to toe. A traditionally colored kitsune helmet covered their head, with the outline decorated in white neon lights, glowing in the now darkened night, while the eye sockets themselves were a dark abyss that Xion couldn’t avoid staring into. Beneath that, a white scarf, now with scattered blood, hung below their neck.

The kitsune-masked vigilante stepped towards him.
“Sayonara, Xion Mizuno,” a woman’s calm voice said, then she ran up the side of the wall parallel to it, digging her katana in to create speed and propulsion, leaving marks where it struck each time, and left his view.

They say near-death experiences play out in slow motion. For instance in a car crash people may often recount the exact time of day and overcast, the exact fading paint job on the vehicle that collided, or even the song in the background. In this case for Xion, he would remember something himself.
That would forever be the katana under his breath.

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