evening.
“What clued you in?” Gento asked. His right hand bobbed up and down, as if judging the weight of the head. Setsura’s poker face told him that he had discerned the identity of the seal, too.
“A certain set of circumstances informed me that the seal was a human being. When its nature began to emerge, abnormalities were sure to manifest themselves in the physical body. The next logical step would be the hospital.”
“Search Shinjuku for a patient showing strange symptoms. You are a man with a gift for finding the unique perspective. Hyota had that right about you.”
“And how is he doing?” Only Gento could have detected the touch of nostalgia in Setsura’s icy voice.
“He still thinks the world of you, as if he would still rather serve you than me. I can’t deny feeling a tad resentful, but I suppose such emotions are inevitable. He always loved you more.”
“Perhaps because you were never lovable.”
“Bingo,” Gento said with a sour smile. Perhaps a hint of sentimentality colored the eyes of this genie, too. “You know me, always the bookworm while you were off playing with Hyota. I let your father know it wasn’t right, you cavorting about with the help.”
“That is water long under the bridge by now,” Setsura said. His words revealed not a hint of emotion, the darkness surrounding him radiated not the slightest sense of bewilderment or alarm. “You want the girl. You don’t want to part with the head. And you’ll still have to go through me .”
“So be it,” Gento replied.
He’d fought Setsura once before and lost, and yet answered in equally fearless tones. Both had titanium steel devil wires at their command. But Gento couldn’t see Setsura, and his right hand was already full with the head. He was coming to bat with two strikes against him.
What moves did this genie have left up his sleeve? For he was not the only genie there.
The air hummed.
A fraction of a second earlier, Gento felt a faint surge aimed at his head, the breeze kicked up by the devil wire, the breath of air aroused by the sub-micron thin filament.
The heavy, dull thud of the impact could only mean that Setsura’s intended target was not on the receiving end of the attack.
Siegfried stood a yard in front of Gento, towering over him like a stone wall. The top half of Siegfried’s torso—right at the height of Gento’s head—slid cleanly off the bottom half.
Even stranger, as the two halves of his body slanted away from each other, Siegfried reached down with his two massive arms and arrested the slippage. It was like he’d divided himself into two distinct living things.
That wasn’t the end of it. With hulking yet surprisingly agile movements, Siegfried leapfrogged out of the arena. Throwing his five hundred pounds through the air, he disappeared into the stands.
To the two left behind, making the dead live was not such an impressive feat. At the moment Siegfried intercepted Setsura’s devil wire attack, Gento bolted toward the platform where Mayumi lay bound.
The strands of devil wire whispering after him, Gento flung out his right hand. Yamada’s head sailed through the air. He did not throw it with enough force, it seemed, to keep it aloft. And yet it flew backwards in a straight line.
Weaving and dodging out of the way of invisible obstacles, the head disappeared into the darkness next to the gate from which Yamada had entered the arena.
“Hoh,” came a low exclamation of admiration.
The darkness swelled and broke apart. His black slicker still dissolved into the blackness behind him, Setsura’s comely countenance glowed vividly in the dark, hovering there like a specter.
Yamada’s head floated in the air on his left. His wide-open mouth, his bared white teeth fastened around Setsura’s right wrist.
Gento reached the platform. He could tell from the cessation of the whispering air behind him that Yamada’s head had hit its target and his teeth had left a painful mark.
“What clued you in?” Gento asked. His right hand bobbed up and down, as if judging the weight of the head. Setsura’s poker face told him that he had discerned the identity of the seal, too.
“A certain set of circumstances informed me that the seal was a human being. When its nature began to emerge, abnormalities were sure to manifest themselves in the physical body. The next logical step would be the hospital.”
“Search Shinjuku for a patient showing strange symptoms. You are a man with a gift for finding the unique perspective. Hyota had that right about you.”
“And how is he doing?” Only Gento could have detected the touch of nostalgia in Setsura’s icy voice.
“He still thinks the world of you, as if he would still rather serve you than me. I can’t deny feeling a tad resentful, but I suppose such emotions are inevitable. He always loved you more.”
“Perhaps because you were never lovable.”
“Bingo,” Gento said with a sour smile. Perhaps a hint of sentimentality colored the eyes of this genie, too. “You know me, always the bookworm while you were off playing with Hyota. I let your father know it wasn’t right, you cavorting about with the help.”
“That is water long under the bridge by now,” Setsura said. His words revealed not a hint of emotion, the darkness surrounding him radiated not the slightest sense of bewilderment or alarm. “You want the girl. You don’t want to part with the head. And you’ll still have to go through me .”
“So be it,” Gento replied.
He’d fought Setsura once before and lost, and yet answered in equally fearless tones. Both had titanium steel devil wires at their command. But Gento couldn’t see Setsura, and his right hand was already full with the head. He was coming to bat with two strikes against him.
What moves did this genie have left up his sleeve? For he was not the only genie there.
The air hummed.
A fraction of a second earlier, Gento felt a faint surge aimed at his head, the breeze kicked up by the devil wire, the breath of air aroused by the sub-micron thin filament.
The heavy, dull thud of the impact could only mean that Setsura’s intended target was not on the receiving end of the attack.
Siegfried stood a yard in front of Gento, towering over him like a stone wall. The top half of Siegfried’s torso—right at the height of Gento’s head—slid cleanly off the bottom half.
Even stranger, as the two halves of his body slanted away from each other, Siegfried reached down with his two massive arms and arrested the slippage. It was like he’d divided himself into two distinct living things.
That wasn’t the end of it. With hulking yet surprisingly agile movements, Siegfried leapfrogged out of the arena. Throwing his five hundred pounds through the air, he disappeared into the stands.
To the two left behind, making the dead live was not such an impressive feat. At the moment Siegfried intercepted Setsura’s devil wire attack, Gento bolted toward the platform where Mayumi lay bound.
The strands of devil wire whispering after him, Gento flung out his right hand. Yamada’s head sailed through the air. He did not throw it with enough force, it seemed, to keep it aloft. And yet it flew backwards in a straight line.
Weaving and dodging out of the way of invisible obstacles, the head disappeared into the darkness next to the gate from which Yamada had entered the arena.
“Hoh,” came a low exclamation of admiration.
The darkness swelled and broke apart. His black slicker still dissolved into the blackness behind him, Setsura’s comely countenance glowed vividly in the dark, hovering there like a specter.
Yamada’s head floated in the air on his left. His wide-open mouth, his bared white teeth fastened around Setsura’s right wrist.
Gento reached the platform. He could tell from the cessation of the whispering air behind him that Yamada’s head had hit its target and his teeth had left a painful mark.
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