10
Crimson fire erupted from Kurogosho’s residence, charring the night sky.
The powerful wind carried the flames high. Two men emerged from part of the residence yet to be engulfed by the tumult, Hosuke Kumon and Biku. Biku was carrying Kukai’s sokushinbutsu. They stopped midway between the residence and the outer wall as Biku turned back to look at the building.
“I guess we didn’t need to start a fire, then.”
“Seems that way,” Hosuke replied, looking back too. “It doesn’t matter, either way,” he muttered.
They kept their eyes on the building, backing towards the birch trees near the wall. Biku was the first to reach one—in the same instant he launched himself back through the air, sensing a sudden wave of animosity crashing down from above. One of the branches above them vibrated with a sharp crack. The sound was followed by a soft thud.
“Enoh!” Biku shouted.
The old man stood directly before him. He looked like a ghost. The head was gone from the mummy in Biku’s arms, Enoh’s attack had knocked it clean off. It lay on the grass between them, facing the sky. Biku let rise his own sinuous energies. Just as they were interrupted by a casual, jocular voice.
“Look at you—you come this far, then you lose your fucking head.”
Hosuke Kumon strolled between the two men and took Kukai’s head in his hands.
The tension between Enoh and Biku seemed to melt away. Enoh’s expression became that of a pained grin.
“You!” A joker to the last…Enoh held back the rest of the sentence. “Yes, perhaps it is too late for fighting.” The words seemed to carry the weight of a great exhaustion.
“Perhaps it is,” Biku agreed. The red flames flickered alluringly over his crimson lips.
“There were less than twenty of us inside. Now, half are dead and the rest have likely escaped.”
“One of those escapees may be watching us now. Are you okay with that?” Hosuke asked.
“By which you mean?”
“Won’t it land you in trouble? If you’re seen being friendly with us...”
Enoh’s pained grin returned. “Not anymore.”
“Hoo.”
“Master Kurogosho is in there, in the blaze. I told him to run, but he continued to feed on Mistress Renobo,” he muttered with quiet derision.
Hosuke’s eyes were fixed on Enoh, they hardened suddenly. “While we’re here like this,” he started, tossing Kukai’s head in his hands. “Did you know that shit I ate was Yuko?” It looked like he was asking the head in his hands.
“And if I said I did?”
“Just tell me,” Hosuke murmured.
“I realized what it was—whose meat it was—when I ate it. But not before.”
“Hah.” Hosuke grinned, scratching his scalp. The hardness in his eyes was gone.
“Now, if you would let me ask a question,” Enoh suggested.
“Yeah?”
“What did you do to Master Kurogosho?”
“Nothing…”
“You want me to believe that Master Kurogosho ended up like that without your doing anything?”
Hosuke scratched his head. “That old guy had balls. I was ready to let Kukai’s monsters devour him—but no, he started to eat them back. Although, maybe it’s more accurate to say he was eating them as they ate him—they merged into a single entity. Their minds must have matched pretty well.”
“That explains it.”
“Pretty much.”
“What were those things inside Kukai, after all?” Enoh asked.
“You really wanna know?” Hosuke grinned slyly. He remembered the taste of the darkness he had eaten. It was something he could never forget, regardless of how he might try. “They were Kukai.”
“What?”
“A part of Kukai, at least. And now they’re inside Kurogosho. Do you remember what I said before? About there being a route, some kind of passageway that would show us how he got to the other side, or wherever it was he went.”
“Yes.”
“That was me bullshitting you. But…it turns out I was actually pretty close to the truth.”
“Indeed?”
“During the dive I was looking for the entrance to wherever it was Kukai had gone. In the end that entrance, along with the black stuff, turned out to be a part of Kukai’s consciousness.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that before Kukai left, he cast off all of his feelings of lust. They stayed behind. The creatures we saw were the embodiment of that lust. Just as they were entrance points to Kukai’s nirvana. It stayed in the place Kukai had used to get away. It planted root structures that, as I’d said before, spent the last thousand-plus years growing.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I ate a part of it. Each part contains an image of the whole. The flavor was pretty diluted, but it was enough to get a sense of the entirety. Kukai’s got this girl he’s fucking in China. That’s the memory he expunged when he left for nirvana. They’re in a temple somewhere. It was faint, but clear enough to piece the image together. Kukai fucked a girl in Tang China. We can ignore whatever led to that happening, but what’s clear is that Kukai’s lust for her stayed with him until the moment of his death.”
“So you think the true substance of those monsters was…Kukai’s lust for a woman he slept with in China, over a thousand years ago?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Well then.”
“The entrance to nirvana was probably hidden beneath the network of roots. Now it’s all inside Kurogosho,” Hosuke grunted.
11
Fuminari was covered in blood.
A number of his ribs were broken. His shirt hung in tatters, soaked red and only barely attached. Horrific lacerations cut through his skin, visible under the shredded fabric. Torn-up skin. Exposed flesh. Even taken alone, each of the wounds would have been enough to have forced any normal man unconscious, and long ago. Hanko, too, had suffered similar damage, almost equal to Fuminari’s. Fuminari ’s thick lips were pulled tight in a frozen smile—an unconscious expression.
For the first time ever, Fuminari and Hanko were engaged in dialogue. A wordless exchange marked by the cracking of bones and flesh, punctuated by sprays of blood. Fuminari summoned all his reserves of strength as he hammered out his loathing, battling to demonstrate his love for Kumiko.
Even then it was nowhere near enough.
He drove blow after blow into Hanko, driven by an unknowable force—struggling to understand the frustration he felt. He tore at the beast’s flesh. But the frustration remained, regardless of how many hits he landed. Hanko returned his blows—strike after strike, and still the truth remained elusive. The frustration brought with it even greater reserves of strength, coming up from deep inside him, supporting him as his willpower began to falter. Without them, he would have been dead a long time ago. The power pulsed up from his insides, ordering him not to give up. But Hanko’s reserves of strength seemed greater still, limitless even.
“Hanko is stronger than you…”
Kumiko’s words flashed through his mind. He felt a wave of hatred so powerful it was dizzying. Fuck! Fuminari cursed from deep within. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Was it true? Was Hanko the stronger after all? Kumiko’s body still hung upside-down, rocking in the wind as she watched the battle. You’re all I’ve got, Hanko, Fuminari thought. And I’m all you’ve got.
You’re all I’ve got…
The realization caused a sudden jubilation to rush down Fuminari’s spine. Something inside him exploded, pushing through his waist with an almost audible rush. Previously stagnant, it now shot upwards, piercing his brain and leaving him with a powerful numbness. He caught himself moaning, letting a feminine sound escape from his lips. Between his legs, he was suddenly erect. He almost collapsed there and then.
In that moment, Hanko’s right hand came flying towards his face.
Huh!? Fuminari felt an incredible surge of terror. He
pulled his head backwards, avoiding the blow. Something hit his neck. The immediate sensation was not of pain, but of sound. The horrific sound of flesh being gouged from his neck. It was followed by a sudden heat. Then came the intense, slab-like pain. A chunk of his neck had been reduced to a pink mess—the sight alone would have knocked Ryoko out. A few millimeters deeper and it would have severed his carotid artery. Blood welled up to fill the pink wound before it trickled down the inside of his shirt. As Fuminari staggered backwards, Hanko rushed in. The beast’s right hand flashed out again, coming straight through the night air for his throat.
“Shit”
Fuminari pulled his head down, bringing his elbows up to protect his face and neck. A single scratch in the same place and he would loose a ton of blood.
Hanko’s hand wrapped over Fuminari’s submerged head. The pain brought him close to passing out. He heard his skull crunch. An enormous force was twisting his head around. The force was such that a kid’s head would have come straight off.
He fought it with all his remaining strength. His neck thickened, causing blood to torrent from his freshly-opened wound. Hanko’s left hand came flying in, going for where Fuminari had tensed his neck. Fuminari used his right elbow to punch the attack away. His foot was in Hanko’s groin before the beast could launch another attack.
Hanko’s knees came together and the beast fell into a squat. Fuminari smashed the tip of his foot against the beast’s knees—his foot gave off a muted crunch. One of his toes had snapped inside the boot. But there was no time for inventory, Hanko’s hand was still clamped over his head. His eyes were ready to pop out. He was getting dizzy.
So, this is how I die?
Fuminari asked himself. Even as the thought came he formed his hand into a blade and brought it down over Hanko’s right arm—the arm still holding him. Hanko’s other hand came up, knocking the attack away. Huh!? His hand hit something to their side. Cold, hard meat. Kumiko? It was her corpse, still hanging from the birch tree.
His hand stroked through her hair, then closed around it.
He tugged her head forwards, slamming it as hard as he could into Hanko’s face. The sensation of her face disintegrating channeled through his fingers and spread over his entire body. Hanko pulled away, screaming. The branch holding Kumiko up broke and her corpse fell to the ground. It lay face up between them, her nose had been flattened. It looked repulsive, all the more for the fact that no blood flowed from it. Fuminari had palmed her eyes closed, but the right one had re-opened. It was staring directly at him. A noise caught in his throat. He was attempting to call out to her, but he could no longer tell if he was forming any words. Hanko just stood there, ready in a fighting stance and watching him.
Hanko. I’m the monster, not you. Fuminari was already screaming when the realization hit him.
“Die!”
Fuminari did not know if the scream was meant for Hanko or himself. He leapt over Kumiko’s corpse and launched himself at the beast. He arranged the three fingers of his right hand into a knife and lanced them forwards, going straight for Hanko’s throat. He made no attempt at protecting himself. This would be his last attack.
Hanko stayed still.
There was a crunch as something gave way, then Fuminari’s hand was bathed in warmth. It was buried to the wrist, underneath Hanko’s jaw.
Fuminari ejaculated—over and over.
An incredible elation spiked through his core, traveling the length of his penis to smack again and again into the fabric of his trousers. Fuminari came back to himself. He registered Hanko’s face, the incomparable sadness in the beast’s expression, watching Fuminari with what seemed to be a deep pathos. Blood gushed suddenly out from the beast’s mouth, covering Fuminari’s face.
“Hanko?”
Fuminari’s blood-soaked eyes stretched open in shock. The shock gave way to a deluge of punishing horror. Why didn’t you run? Why didn’t you try to kill me? There was no way Hanko could have failed to parry the attack, it had been straightforward. Fuminari pulled his hand free, releasing a fresh wave of blood from the beast’s throat. His three fingers were dripping with Hanko’s blood. There was only one answer.
Hanko had let Fuminari kill him.
Fuminari had been absent from Hanko’s eyes. It had been utterly consumed by the sight of Kumiko, fallen at his feet. With that, the beast’s eyes had finally attained a form of peace. Hanko slumped forward and collapsed over her, like a giant, fallen tree. Fuminari felt a sudden panic.
“She’s mine!” he yelled. “Kumiko’s mine!”
But his voice failed to reach either of them. Hanko was dead. He had given his life to Fuminari, and taken Kumiko in exchange.
“No…” No, no, no!!
He screamed and began to pummel the back of Hanko’s head. He kicked right through it, hitting Kumiko’s corpse. He continued to kick at them even after the beast’s head had been crushed flat, Kumiko’s body with it. There was nothing left for him now, not even death.
Epilogue
The three men stood before the burning residence, watching the flames.
Hosuke, Biku and Enoh. The wind brushed against them as it gusted through the dark sky. They sensed someone approaching from behind and turned as one to see Senkichi Fuminari standing before them. He was wearing a vacant expression.
“Fuminari,” Enoh muttered his name.
Fuminari failed to respond.
He was staring at the flames. Or not—it was not clear that he was looking at anything at all. He seemed absent somehow. Different from the Fuminari they knew, the man that exuded such overwhelming levels of energy. He looked deflated, weakened to the point that a woman or child could easily dispose of him. His face was matted with congealed blood.
Hosuke spoke next, as though he had just remembered something. “What about this thing?” Kukai’s head was still in his hands, he was asking the others what they wanted to do with it. The whole time he kept glancing down at it. “You know, a lot of shit went down for this thing.”
“What should we do, indeed?” Biku answered.
He was still carrying the rest of Kukai in his arms. Hosuke strolled up to him and replaced the head over the monk’s shoulders. It settled there, tipped slightly so that it appeared to be taking interest in the flames.
“So, that’s that?” Hosuke said.
“It would seem so,” Biku replied, his crimson lips forming their signature, Buddha-like smile.
“Let’s see—the purity of exquisite bliss is the stage of a Bodhisattva?” Enoh recited a line from the Rishu Sutra.
Fuminari’s eyes were still on the flames. Hosuke walked over, coming to a stop at his side. He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“Are you crying, man?” he whispered, so that only Fuminari could hear.
Fuminari made no response.
He saw nothing but darkness.
Character Guide
Senkichi Fuminari
A soldier of fortune. An instinctive martial arts master who kills when necessary, relishing every moment. He is dedicated only to himself and the objects of his desire. Caring for other people confuses him, makes him think he is weak. The thought of fear terrifies him. He loses three fingers in a nightmarish battle with Hanko, a man-beast the size of a bear. The loss devastates him, sealing his resolve to destroy his new nemesis.
Biku
Handsome to the point of feminine beauty, he is a priest at the Mt. Koya sect of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism and a practitioner of the Tachikawa Way--enlightenment through sexual ecstasy. A martial arts master. Pain fascinates him. He was born without the ability to feel physical pain--a congenital indifference. He is a student of pain, torturing when he has to and studying its effects, but he will only cause harm if he must.
Hosuke Kumon
An A-class Psyche Diver, one who possesses innate telepathic abilities and uses them in concert with cutting edge technology to dive into the mind in search of information, for a fee. He is an unlicensed free agent
working for the top bidder. His innate...talents...provide him with an edge in almost any fight. Has a wry sense of humor and a deceptively happy-go-lucky disposition. His home is the mountain.
Master Kurogosho
Lover of Renobo and the black heart of Panshigaru, worshipers of the bloody Hindu god Heruka. He is consumed by the infuriating knowledge that one day he will die and lose his power, so he seeks immortality. He contrives to steal the sacred remains of Kukai and sustains his life through the sacrifice of others.
Renobo
Master Kurogosho’s lover. Her power is maintained from the blood sacrifice of other women, and an insatiable appetite for sex. She is a leader within Panshigaru.
Enoh
A Kung Fu master of the first order dedicated to the Master Kurogosho. He is the creator of physically twisted Hanko, a man-beast developed through the ancient Chinese art of body binding. He kills without remorse and enjoys watching blood flow from worthy opponents. He is wise and corrupt.
Hanko
The mute, physically twisted nemesis of Senkichi Fuminari. He exists for one purpose only: to kill on command. He does so without emotion, unless Jakouin is involved. He is deeply in love, and will lose his mind if anything happens to her. The only two people able to command Hanko are Enoh and Jakouin.
Jakouin
The mysterious, shrouded counterpart of Hanko. The curves under her black jumpsuit, and her sharp eyes and nose reveal her as a woman, and probably quite attractive.
Yuko
A frequent visitor to Biku’s home and a follower of the Tachikawa Way. She is sweet and young, in her late teens. She is kidnapped by Kurogosho’s henchmen and prepared for the ritual blood sacrifice. Hosuke Kumon risks everything to save her.
Iba
A top-level enforcer affiliated with Master Kurogosho. He is tough, resourceful, and remorseless. He is one of the thieves who stole the body of Kukai from Mt. Toyama. Iba is beheaded by Hanko as punishment for revealing too much under Biku’s relentless torture
Kukai--Kobo Daishi
The mummified remains of the 8th century founder of Japanese Buddhism in the. He is said to have attained Buddhahood while still living, and is therefore home to unimaginable spiritual powers.
The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters Page 52
