Black Bullet - Volume 7 - Chapter 1.03

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The pleasant scent of boiling soy sauce and mirin permeated the room as Rentaro flipped the contents of the frying pan with his wrist. Waiting for the food to reach the perfect level of cooking, he turned off the gas.

The doorbell chose that moment to ring. Checking his watch, he found it was already eight in the evening. Untying his apron as he opened the door, Rentaro was greeted by a tan deliveryman. “Could I get you to sign this?” he said, wielding a pen.

Rentaro picked it up and beckoned to Enju, who was watching TV inside. After a moment, she bounded over, eyes burning with curiosity. Rentaro took the opportunity to use her head as a table to sign the receipt and return it to the deliveryman. He gave them a weird look and left.

“Ah, it’s just so much more comfortable writing on your head, you know?”

Enju, apparently treating even this as a compliment, gave out a little squeal of approval. “What’s in the box, though?” she asked, her curiosity returning.

Rentaro pushed her head away as she opened it. It contained two tickets. Peering at the tiny text printed on them, she realized it was a pair of free passes for the observation deck of a newly built skyscraper in nearby Magata.

They were apparently reserved for the night of the next local fireworks show, and according to the letter inside, they were from an old client—a convenience store, if Rentaro recalled correctly, having problems with some street punks hanging out there at night. The letter thanked him again, ran down everything going on since then, and invited him to enjoy some fireworks for a change of pace.

Rentaro had mixed feelings about this, but Enju was already intoning “Ohhhhhhh!” with a ticket held aloft in both arms, eyes sparkling. “We’re gonna have to thank the guy who sent these to us! I can’t wait for the summer festival.”

“Uh, yeah—about that, Enju…” Rentaro turned back toward her. “They’re probably gonna have to cancel it.”

“Why?”

It was hard to watch Enju look doe-eyed at him like that, but Rentaro continued. “Things are still pretty tense with Sendai Area,” he dispassionately explained. “They’re sending patrol planes back and forth to intimidate each other. All it’d take is one spark to set something off, so even holding a fireworks show could be enough to push Sendai over the brink.”

The neighborhood association wasn’t stupid enough to fail to notice that. Chances were they’d cancel the entire festival. He expected this to crush Enju, but she was still every bit as excited as before.

“Okay, so I’ll fix everything up before the festival! Then it’ll be held on schedule, right?”

“Ah, there you go again with your silly nonsense…”

This problem was a little too thorny for even her to help fix, but he had to appreciate the way she could instantly pep up her spirits like that.

“Right, but let’s leave that topic behind for a sec…”

“Leave it behind?”

Rentaro placed both hands on Enju’s shoulders and brought his face close to hers.

“I got food ready.”

Bringing out a low table, Rentaro took the bowls of rice at both stations and poured a combination of chicken, onions, and a soft-boiled egg that made its way into every nook and cranny of the dish. He felt justifiably proud of the work, and the sauce-sweetened scent of dinner wafted in the air, lovingly caressing Enju’s nose.

“Eeeeeeee!”

She jumped up and down, hands still on the table, unable to restrain herself another minute.

“All right, Aihara—do you know what this dish is called?”

“Oyako-don, a chicken-and-egg rice bowl!” she explained, all smiles as she wiggled her rear end in the air. “Ooh, but to you and me, it’s more of a looooovers’ bowl, right?”

“That doesn’t exist.”

“Well, make a recipe and give it to me! Something as hot and sweaty as you and me!”

“Yeah, sure. I better think up a recipe for freeloader’s rice while I’m at it, too. Something that goes cold on you in, like, five seconds.”

Rentaro sat at the table, closed his eyes, solemnly brought the chopsticks to his mouth, and chewed. The sweet soy intermingled perfectly with the just-runny-enough egg. Yes. This works. Good job, me. I wish my compatriots, the dirt-poor demon girl in the kitchen and bunny rabbit Initiator, could learn a little something from this.

He opened an eye to find Enju rapidly packing away the bowl. Can’t be that bad for her, either, he reasoned.

“Hey, how did school go today, Enju?”

Enju smiled back, a bit of rice on her cheek. “I made a friend!”

“Get into any problems or anything?”

Enju opened her mouth to say something but stopped and shook her head instead, smiling wryly.

“…”

Her refusal to immediately answer said enough. If Enju was opting to keep it under wraps, it didn’t feel right for him to badger her.

“Enju, you can just laugh this off if I’m being too paranoid, but…don’t be hesitant or anything just because I picked on you just now, all right?”

“Wh-why’re you bringing that up?”

“I just mean, if you ever run into any problems you can’t solve by yourself, don’t be afraid to call on me. No matter what, I’m always gonna be at your side, okay?”

There was no telling how many times Enju might’ve hesitated over it in the past. For now, she just flashed an embarrassed smile and said, “Sure, all right.”

Rentaro was just about to pull back and tell her to eat up while it was still hot when the doorbell rang again. Who could that be? he wondered as he stood up and opened the door, a little peeved.

Suddenly, something pure white flew in. He caught it in his arms, experiencing its soft texture up close and personal. Carefully, he cast his eyes downward, toward his chest. A pair of watery eyes greeted him, and his heart skipped a beat.

“You have to hide me, Mr. Satomi!”

“L-Lady Seitenshi?”

There was no mistaking the sight. It was the head of state, almost blindingly beautiful when viewed from point-blank range.

“Rentaro! No boobs!”

Rentaro froze at the uninvited commentary behind him as the Seitenshi hurriedly extracted herself.

“Wha…? What do you mean, ‘hide’ you?” he asked. “What’re you even doing here—?”

The leader of Tokyo Area stretched out and stared into Rentaro’s eyes.

“Would you mind if I explained inside?”

The Satomi residence, a single room around eight tatami mats large, had few perks described as desirable, apart from the low rent and the ability to befriend its many cockroaches. It was a classic dive. The plumbing was like a never-ending comedy sketch—fix one leak, another one appeared down the pipe. The lack of soundproofing gave you a front-row seat at the radio drama of the couple next door tossing pots and pans at each other in the evenings.

Having a radiant, princesslike figure seated daintily in this hovel was a pretty unusual sight to behold. The perfumelike rose scent emanating from her did nothing to ease his mind at all. It showed, once again, just how beautiful she was.

Rentaro, hearing the Seitenshi’s story with arms crossed, then lifted her head upward.

“So the guys in the palace drummed you out, and you wanna enlist me to help you get away from them?”

“Precisely.”

“And you don’t want to tell me why.”

“Precisely.”

“Could you screw around with me like this some other time?”

Rentaro’s attempt at a little hard cajoling was met with an even harder stare. Her eyes indicated exactly what kind of will she had to see this through. He scratched his head in response. Well, great. This ain’t good.

“Look, do you even realize what’s going on in Tokyo Area right now?”

“All too well, I am afraid.”

“And despite that, you still aren’t planning on going back to the palace?”

“I am not.”

“How did you escape the palace in the first place, even?”

“I cut up a curtain, fashioned it into a makeshift rope, climbed out of the window, and boarded the back of a palace food delivery truck.”

Rentaro and Enju gave each other a surprised glance. Even Enju betrayed a bit of concern at this news. Was that all it took to elude the palace guard?

“…Uh, so how’re you planning to pay my fee, anyway?”

“With this.”

The Seitenshi nonchalantly removed a card from her white handbag. It was bare, case-free—she must not have been in the habit of carrying a wallet around—and judging by its silver color, Rentaro had a hunch things like credit limits and location restrictions didn’t apply to this sucker.

“How’d you make it all the way over here?”

The Seitenshi gave Rentaro a funny look, apparently not understanding the point of the question.

“Well, via public transport, but…”

“Um, so you got off the train at Magata Station?”

“Yes…?”

Greeeeat. Rentaro slapped his forehead with his palm. Apparently one of Tokyo Area’s most famous people didn’t realize that using credit cards meant creating a virtual paper trail for yourself. And when—not if—her pursuers found out she was at Magata Station, it’d be a cinch for Rentaro’s house to come up in the conversation.

His gut was telling him to turn this case down immediately. The Seitenshi didn’t notice. She was too busy studying Rentaro’s apartment, checking out the furniture and fixtures, novel in her eyes, before settling her eyes on the bath.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Satomi, but would I be able to use your bath?”

“The bath?”

He was about to ask why, but then he saw the mud on the hem of her outfit. One of her ankles was also swollen. Where could she have possibly been wandering before she came here? Thinking about it, he decided she must have fled the palace the day before. An entire night and day had passed until she made it here. She couldn’t have been lost that whole time. Even she must have realized, Rentaro supposed, that making a beeline for the Satomi residence would instantly bring him under suspicion.

But in the end something about her troubles must’ve driven her to finally ring that doorbell. Or was that just Rentaro being overly generous with her again? It was all making her impatient, especially the sharp-eyed girl in front of her, and Rentaro couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the Seitenshi.

“Ahhhh, all right. Use the bath all you want,” he said, turning a finger toward the door.

“Excuse me, then,” the Seitenshi responded as she stood and went inside.

Soon, in the soggy, miniscule changing area, Rentaro could hear friction between clothing and skin as the Seitenshi’s dress fell to the floor. Even through the glass door, it was amazing how supple her body’s silhouette was—and as Rentaro’s heart quickened, the silhouette’s bra dropped down as well. Surprised, he turned back to Enju. She had a fist hidden under the table, cheeks pushed out in a high state of annoyance.

“You’re studying her way more closely than me when I undress!”

He had never “studied” her body at all—all three measurements were the same numerical value, for one—but Rentaro knew saying that would make her snap at him again. So he took the tactic of facing the opposite wall while holding his ears shut. That oughta work.

Ignoring the muffled sound of splashing water, Rentaro decided to take that moment to rewire and reorganize his thoughts. If he took this job, he’d have to take action at once. There were no handy hiding places in this apartment—even if there was, there was no way she’d escape the notice of a palace-hired professional investigator.

Then the doorbell rang a third time. Ah, jeez, they’re already on to her?

Before he could act, though, he heard someone turning the key, unlocking the door, and turning the knob. There, standing tall, was none other than the cold-as-ice president of the Tendo Civil Security Agency. Her eyes were full of jealousy as she stormed in, her feet making sixteenth-note steps as she did.

“I smell perfume.”

“Huh?”

“There’s a girl here besides Enju and Tina, isn’t there? It’s Miori, isn’t it?”

Kisara swiveled her head around, walked up to the low table, and crossed her arms.

“That,” she said, “and look at you. You’re sitting bolt upright.”

“Y-yeah,” Rentaro weakly replied to the verbal onslaught.

She narrowed her eyes into slits as she looked at him. “Look, Satomi. If you’re wondering what it is I don’t like about Miori, I’ll tell you—it’s that she knows you’re my personal possession, but she still does stuff like leave her toiletry kit in your place, or a spare pair of undergarments, or she throws away my hair dryer without asking…! And you know what else? You know the cup you put your blue toothbrush in, Satomi? Well, she goes and lines it up with my red one, or marks it with her initials and stuff! I haaaaate that! Are you even listening?”

Rentaro had been ignoring Kisara, including her now-reddened cheeks and near-shout of a voice, because he was too busy thinking about when to come clean to her about the Seitenshi. They were both interrupted by the sound of the shower starting up. Kisara rolled her eyes over to it.

“In there, huh?”

“Hey, wait a…”

Kisara, wasting no time, stormed toward the bathroom. She was just a few inches from Rentaro’s grasp when the door opened.

“Wh-whooooooaaaaaa?!”

“…Aaaaaggggghhhhh!”

Well, too late for that, then. Rentaro hung his head in shame at the two different screams emanating from his washroom. But as he did so, a light bulb went off; he slapped a fist in the palm of his hand.

That’s it. The perfect hiding place for the Seitenshi.

Thirty minutes later.

The doorbell rang for a record fourth time that day. Here we go, Rentaro thought as he prepared to act as peeved as possible before opening up.

“You’re Rentaro Satomi?”

A well-built, gray-haired man appeared, sticking a foot inside without asking. Rentaro looked down. He had a foot in position to block Rentaro from slamming the door in his face. The thick leather on his shoes indicated that he’d have no trouble doing so.

“What?”

“I’m with the palace. I can’t tell you why, but I need to search your home.”

“Why d’you have to do that? Go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

The man called for someone behind him. They were invisible to Rentaro before, but suddenly a small herd of officials in white suits and palace emblems stormed into the room, passing by the increasingly flustered Rentaro. “Search everywhere,” the gray-haired man said. “Under the tatami mats, over the ceilings—everything!” Enju, too busy tackling the rice bowl again, gave the men a mean look.

“Hashiba?”

Hashiba, the gray-haired man, turned toward the searcher talking to him and nodded. They were in front of the bathroom, the shower still running inside.

“There’s nothing in there!”

“That’s for us to decide,” Hashiba warned as he pushed the door separating the bathroom from the living room. The moment he opened the door to the bath area, he found a cloud of dense fog and a short scream from the silhouette inside.

“Oh, excuse me!” Hashiba said as he tore out of the bathroom, using a handkerchief to wipe his brow. “I wish you could’ve told me that Miss Tendo was in there beforehand.”

“I would’ve if you had bothered listening.”

“Hashiba! I can’t find her!”

Hashiba turned toward the voice. Two of his lackeys, one examining the tatami mats and the other the ceiling, gave him disappointed looks.

Rentaro opted to cross his arms like an overbearing mother.

“So, uh, what are you doing here?”

Hashiba’s forehead wrinkled as he agonized over the question. Then he took a business card out of his suit and put it in Rentaro’s hand.

“You can bill the palace for the damage. If Lady Seitenshi ever visits your home, I want you to use this number to contact me.”

Hashiba lifted his chin in a “Let’s roll” gesture as he and his men filed out, just as briskly as they had entered. Once the last of them was out of sight, Rentaro pushed down the foot pedal on his trash can and tossed Hashiba’s card inside. “You can come out now,” he shouted into the air as he turned around.

A few moments later, an embarrassed-looking young woman stepped out of the bathroom, arms hugging herself around her black school uniform. Behind her was the Seitenshi, trying to pretend nothing had just happened. Her hands were clasped in front of her in astonishment.

“Well done, Mr. Satomi! That was a perfect plan.”

“Uh, there was nothing at all perfect about that,” Kisara protested. “They all got to look at me naked!”

Not even Hashiba could have guessed that there, amidst the thick mist covering the bathroom, was the Seitenshi, body plastered against the wall in a blind spot from the entryway.

“Is that your new ninja skill?” Enju asked. “Your ‘Ladies’ Room Barrier of Death Jutsu’?” She made a few ninja-style moves with her hands to illustrate, evoking giggles from the Seitenshi.

“So?” Rentaro asked, scratching his head.

“So,” Enju replied, “I assume that means we’re taking her request.”

“Actually, I do have one more request. The real one I have to make, if anything.”

“Ah, crap, do you ever bring me any good news?”

The Seitenshi smiled thinly at Rentaro’s complaint as she crossed her arms.

“President Tendo…Mr. Satomi…I’d like you to bring back two items for me. One is called Solomon’s Ring, and the other is the Scorpion’s Neck.”