Tokyo Demons: Book 3, Chapter 7, Part 1

Jo tried to pay attention to the news, but he could barely keep his eyes on the TV. His thoughts kept pinging around his brain like a pinball with no drop chute.

All their investigations, all their desperate ploys to end this war, and none of it was enough. They were still starting and stopping, stuck waiting after every step for Zayd or Nakajima…who were probably waiting for Kado as he hobbled through gunfights across the city.

The memory of Kado’s lips in his ear sent a new shiver down Jo’s spine. Fuck if that guy didn’t always throw Jo for a loop.

“Sachi agreed to this plan…but I didn’t give Ayase that choice.”

Jo kept glancing over at Ayase, who attacked her food with the focus of an angry cat. The few times she looked up and caught his gaze, he turned away, a new surge of guilt clawing up his throat.

Maybe…maybe part of him wanted another mission just so he could stop thinking about this.

Twenty minutes later, Shouri was back on her laptop, Sachi was in the bath, and Adam was doing some light stretches in the corner. The hot food carts were barely touched and cooling in Jo’s room, a grim reminder of food Jo would later be forced to eat.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Jo jumped a little–it was practically Pavlovian at that point. He dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the number; to his surprise, it was unlisted. His heart picking up speed, he flipped open the phone to see a single text message light up the screen.

It’s me, Oda-san.

Jo stiffened.

Kado. Even without a name or number, even with Zayd’s warnings that he himself needed to act as the go-between…Jo knew, beyond a doubt, that Kado was at the other end of the line.

Jo slowly slipped his thumbs over his phone’s buttons.

Since when are you contacting me directly? he texted back.

Things have changed. Please don’t use my name in case someone sees your phone.

Jo’s palms began to sweat. Tilting his phone screen down so only he could see it, he typed, What changed?

Touya is acting strange. I’m not very far ahead of him, and we might need to shift tactics–fast. I wanted you to be ready.

Can you give me more details?

I don’t want to compromise your investigation, in case Touya’s following a cold trail. Just continue what you’re doing and keep your phone with you.

Jo waited a full minute, but no message followed that. Swallowing, he typed his own.

And?

There was a pause, and then his phone buzzed again.

That’s all. I’ll give you a number you can text if you have questions.

A number lit up on the screen–something far too short to be a regular phone number. Jo saved it to his digital address book.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

The last message simultaneously relieved and unnerved Jo. He slowly closed the phone.

“Whoa.”

Jo tensed and looked up. But Kiyoshi wasn’t even looking at him–his attention was on Ayase.

Ayase had fallen asleep against the headboard, her head flopped forward on her neck like she’d been in the middle of a thought. Kiyoshi carefully pulled the empty plate from her limp hand.

“Should we bring her to her room?” he asked Shouri. “She should probably sleep so she heals and stuff.”

Shouri nodded without looking up from her screen. “Absolutely. Would you mind?”

Without thinking, Jo stopped Kiyoshi’s arm. “I-I’ll do it,” he blurted.

Kiyoshi turned to him in surprise.

The shifting on the bed seemed to jostle Ayase awake; she jerked her head up, then let it sag as she groaned. Jo got to his feet and carefully helped her stand.

She was so wobbly on her legs that she flopped against his side. Jo pulled her only arm over his shoulder and shuffled out of the room, her chin buried in his shoulder as she dragged her feet along.

With the lights off and the blinds drawn, her room was dark for the afternoon. The quiet magnified the sleepy grunts that kept rumbling out of Ayase’s throat. Unnerved by the intimacy, he let her fall onto her bed a little too fast–and before remembering to pull back her covers. He winced in embarrassment and folded the far side of the comforter over her curling body.

“…Nn. Sachi?” she asked in her delirium. “Kiyoshi?”

He paused. “Uh, no… It’s Jo.”

“Oh. Jo.” She pulled an armful of comforter closer, a thread of relief in her voice. “Good.”

Jo hated to admit it, but his chest tightened for a second.

“Jo…” She closed her eyes and breathed heavily into her pillow. “M-make sure somebody wakes me up the second we hear anything.”

He swallowed. “Right.”

“P-promise me.”

“I promise.”

She sighed, an edge of something unreadable at the end of it. “I trust you. But not…because you make it easy.”

Jo actually jerked back at that, his eyes widening. He wasn’t sure she’d ever even implied something that personal before. He realized, as he stared down at the groggy girl shifting in her bed, that he’d rarely heard her ever say a nice thing about him.

Then…why did it kill him when he felt like he was letting her down?

What the hell kind of relationship did he even have with her? When he thought of her naked and screaming when Touya took Kado that final time, crying under his shoulder after praying at the shrine…it ate away at him like a cancer. Why did he care so badly about her feelings in this giant mess, when she usually treated him like a periphery in their fractured team?

Maybe because it felt like if they were alone, and there was no Sachi or Kado or Kiyoshi to save…she would still go to the ends of the earth to defend him the way she’d defended them.

A flicker of dormant guilt in his brain flashed an old reminder. Honestly, he’d joined the Church in the first place because she’d inspired him to.

Jo took a long breath and rubbed his face, dropping to sit on the bed beside her. She stirred again, the soft press of her knees through the comforter brushing against his back.

“Does she…miss me?”

Kado’s words back in that alley, and the look on his face, had echoed through Jo’s mind in every quiet moment since they’d happened. Now, in this intimate darkness, he finally thought he understood that alien emotion in Kado’s eyes.

And how an aching chance at happiness might whither in all the lies before it could bloom.

“Ayase,” Jo whispered.

Ayase moaned dreamily. “Hm?”

He hesitated for a long moment. “I…I want to tell you something,” he breathed. “It’s probably a stupid thing thing to do, but…” He clenched his trembling hands into fists. “I-I want to tell you the truth. About…who’s following Touya.”

She didn’t reply. After several agonizing seconds of listening to his heart thud in his ears, he leaned over to see her face.

She was fast asleep.

Jo clenched his teeth. He angrily shook his head as he rose from the bed.

What the hell are you doing? he snapped at himself. Kado said he was relying on you to do the smart thing, you stupid ass! He suddenly felt like a traitor, a sentimental mess…

And also realized that his mind was warring over which person was more painful to betray: Ayase or Kado. Two people whom–until very recently–he’d assumed didn’t even like him.

Jo scowled and fished a loose cigarette from his pocket. He slid it between his lips and marveled at his ludicrous life.

“…”

His eyes dragged back to Ayase, breathing raggedly in her sleep. He watched her as he rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth.

And then he left her, quietly closing the door behind him.

***

“…Ayase. Ayase?”

Ayase woke to the sensation of someone shaking her. She rolled over in bed and blinked against the light streaming through the open blinds.

“Nngh… Sachi?”

He smiled at her, although she could sense an urgency behind the slight crease in his brow. “I wanna show you something,” he said, resting an open laptop on the bed beside her. “Don’t think too hard, just…give me your first impression. Do you think you’ve seen this before?”

Ayase frowned. Brushing sleep from her eyes, she tried to focus her blurry gaze on the monitor.

There was the image of a small photo on there–it looked formal, like a picture for a passport or a loan application. A woman with pinned-up hair and a calm look on her face stared into the camera.

Ayase’s eyes widened. She…

She knew that face.

“Is that the woman we’re looking for?” she blurted, struggling to sit up in bed. “Yui Takahashi? Where did you…”

“Do you think you’ve seen it before?” Sachi repeated. “Just tell me what pops into your mind.”

“Yes! I mean, no–not the photo, but the woman!” Ayase gripped her head.

But where? she thought dizzily. There was an eerie familiarity about the lady, but Ayase couldn’t place it. She zeroed in on the wink of stud earrings, the conservative shade of lipstick. For some reason, those details felt new to Ayase.

Almost like Ayase had seen this woman less clearly. From a distance. Or…

Through a filter.

“I think…when I saw her, she was fuzzy,” Ayase realized aloud. “Like maybe…I saw her when I was a bug?”

Sachi triumphantly slapped the laptop closed. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Wh…”

“Kiyoshi recognized her. But he was drugged at the time, so we needed to confirm with you without jogging your memory about it.” He stood from the bed. “She’s the Core doctor who gave him his Pitch injections.”

Ayase went rigid. She suddenly flashed back to Kadoyuki, lying in a hospital bed with his broken leg.

“Wait… What was the name of the doctor Kadoyuki told us about? The one Touya took him to…after… Wh-when he came to me in the bathroom.” Her stomach twisted into knots.

“Doctor Fujito,” Sachi said quietly, finishing the thought for her. “Who works at S. Hospital.”

Ayase lowered her gaze, the memories churning in her gut. She dug her hand into the comforter by her side.

“Byakko and Nick and Daniel and everyone… They’re at T. Hospital, right? Because Kadoyuki thought Core might have some control at S. Hospital.”

“Yeah. And he said Touya brought him there to listen to Doctor Fujito’s thoughts, because Touya thought she could lead him to the Pitch.” Sachi pushed his glasses up his nose. “Way back then. Long before Zero died.”

“If she knew where the Pitch was back then…maybe that made her the perfect candidate to be the new leader of Core now.”

When she finally looked up, Sachi met her eyes. There was a new firmness there–like she’d seen in that walk-up apartment, when he had a switchblade in his hand. It was focused. It was angry.

He raised one finger to stroke his cheek, but then stopped it in its path. He shook his head as if to clear it and instead reached out to Ayase.

“Are you ready to end this, Ayase?”

She threw the comforter aside.

And clasped his hand.

Proceed to Chapter 7, Part 1, page 3–>