Jason Rohan - The Stone of Kuromori

‘It’s not only me –’

‘We don’t talk about her .’

Kenny fumbled for his phone. ‘I should check with Kiyomi first.’

‘Can we just leave your psycho girlfriend out of this?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘At least you didn’t say she isn’t psycho.’ Stacey tapped her watch. ‘It’s 16:38. You’ve got six minutes, so get in there and hold that stall. If any monster comes in, you can teach it a lesson.’

‘No way.’ Kenny finished his tea and stood up. ‘Thanks for the drink, Stace. If I knew this was what you had in mind, I wouldn’t have come. You have no right getting involved in this stuff.’

‘Kenny, people have died. Think about it. If I’m wrong, then nothing happens: no harm, no foul. But if I’m right and you walk away, then anything that goes down is on you. You want to read about some dead guy tomorrow, knowing you could have stopped it?’

‘All right, all right,’ Kenny grumbled. ‘I’ll go have a look.’

Stacey smiled her approval. ‘I’ve saved you a bite of my cheesecake. That’ll be your reward.’

Kenny took a deep breath and stepped into the narrow toilet cubicle which housed a traditional squat toilet.

This is so stupid , he thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head. I can’t believe I let Stacey talk me into this.

Ever since she had uncovered Kenny’s secret life as the bearer of a divine sword and a warrior sworn to keep monsters in check, Stacey had been itching to find ways to get involved, searching for unusual news stories and trawling the internet for urban myths, much to Kenny’s annoyance. He checked his watch: 16:43. A minute to go.

Even though he was pretty sure this was a waste of time, he could at least take advantage of where he was. Kenny unzipped his fly — and an ice-cold hand clutched his shoulder while a voice breathed in his ear.

‘Will sir be wanting the blue or the red option?’ it purred, its breath as foul as an open sewer.

‘YAAH!’ Kenny jumped, sploshing one trainer into the toilet and spraying his jeans. He hastily zipped up and whirled round, to see nothing but a blank wall.

Two hands grasped his shoulders and the voice asked again, ‘I repeat, which option will sir be having, the red or the blue?’ There was a harder edge now, clearly demanding an answer.

Kenny staggered round in a circle, but the thing, whatever it was, remained unseen. ‘What are you?’ he said. ‘Show yourself.’

The air seemed to condense into a vaguely human form, outlined by the drape of a long red cloak with a thick hood covering the face. It floated, without legs.

‘Last time,’ it insisted. ‘Blue or red?’

‘How about dead?’ Kusanagi, the sacred sword, materialised in Kenny’s hands and he lashed out, striking cleanly to slice the spectral creature in half. It shimmered as the sword edge penetrated, but the katana passed harmlessly through and bit into the tiled floor with a clang.

The thing re-solidified and dead hands clawed outwards from the folds of its cape, the fingers flattening and elongating into gleaming, razor-sharp blades.

Kenny pivoted backwards and struck again, before slipping in the confined space and dropping to one knee. The creature flickered again, shifting its density round the blade, and closed in, slashing the air with its deadly claws.

‘May I observe that sir has neither the space nor the speed to harm me in here?’ Red Cape said. ‘I, on the other hand, have both.’

Kenny instinctively raised his arms as a furious whirl of flashing blades ripped towards his face. Head down, with eyes closed, he heard the scream of metal, like a buzz saw grinding against steel, and felt a tingling in his arms.

Opening one eye, Kenny saw Red Cape backing away, its claw-like fingers mangled and bent. His own arms were gleaming chrome, with the ragged shreds of his shirtsleeves dangling from his elbows. Without thinking, he had channelled the element of metal to transform his arms.

‘Sir has some tricks,’ Red Cape said. ‘But so do I.’ It flickered again, fading like a shadow, before re-forming with its ruined blades restored.

Kenny jumped up and swung the sword in a wild arc, missing the creature completely. Kusanagi sliced through the tiled wall, severing the copper pipes that ran across the divide. Water hissed into the cubicle, spraying the air.

‘That was careless,’ Red Cape said, wagging a scalpel-like finger.

‘Let it go,’ Kenny said, raising his voice over the fizz of escaping water. ‘You can’t hurt me and I can’t hurt you. Call it quits and get lost. Leave these people alone.’

‘Oh, no. The guilty come to me for punishment. No one is innocent – not even you.’ It thrust its dagger hand towards Kenny’s chest and he jumped back, slamming against the door. ‘Besides, I don’t take orders from gaijin .’

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ Kenny coughed, wiping water from his eyes. ‘If you had a nose, you’d know something was wrong by now. Hear that hissing sound? It’s not just water. Let’s see if you can dodge – this!’ He snapped his fingers, producing a single spark.

WHOOMPH! An explosion ripped through the toilet as the pocket of leaking gas ignited. The blast smashed Kenny through the door, still protected by his metallic form. He glimpsed shredded fragments of Red Cape burn into nothing.

With his eyes streaming and his ears ringing, Kenny staggered back into the coffee shop, shouldering open the door which was now hanging by one hinge. Everyone stared, open-mouthed. His clothes were in tatters and flames filled the passage behind him.

‘Wooh! You do not want to go in there!’ Kenny said, fanning his hands to clear the air.

Before anyone could respond, Stacey ran forward, grabbed him and steered him straight out of the front door.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

‘ Hnh? Whuzzah? ’ Kenny pushed himself up on one elbow, his mind lurching towards wakefulness. Blinking his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he fumbled for his watch.

04:09. In the morning.

He sat up. Stifling a yawn, he wavered between flopping back down to sleep or investigating the source of the noise. Drowsiness won and he slumped back on to his warm futon .

BANG-BANG-BANG! The front door rattled with the urgent pounding.

Fully awake now, Kenny jumped up and threw off the duvet. A strip of light blinked on at the base of his bedroom door and he heard his father, Charles, trudging along the hallway.

Scrubbing his hairline with his fingers, Charles unlatched the door. It slammed inwards, catching him on the ankle, and a Japanese girl in biker leathers stormed past him.

‘Oww! Kiyomi, what’s with all the hammering?’ Charles muttered, hopping and clutching his bruised bone. ‘Do you have any idea what time –’

‘Where’s Kenny?’ Kiyomi’s clenched jaw and the flash of anger in her eyes stopped Charles mid-hop.

‘Kiyomi?’ Kenny stood in his bedroom doorway. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

‘Uh, Dad. It’s OK,’ Kenny said, catching his father’s look of concern. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘Really?’ Charles said. ‘Not from where I’m standing.’

‘We need to talk,’ Kiyomi hissed at Kenny. ‘In private.’

‘Fine, but I don’t see why this couldn’t wait until the morning,’ Charles grumbled, pointing to the living room. Kiyomi marched past, with her boots still on.