The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (7 page)

4

The wind had shifted by nightfall.

A faint scent of pine merged with the smell of rocks and snow. Biku finished his coffee and replaced the pan. The rabbit roasting in the flames infused the air with a succulent smell. He took a skewer of meat and carried it to his mouth. It was cooked perfectly. He had used little seasoning, only some salt.

Although it was the beginning of July, the valley’s Rhododendron were still flowering here and there. It was still early summer. Above two thousand meters the desolate, bloody smell of flora and fauna becomes diluted, even in the mountains. All that remains is transparency, an absence of the sense of life desperately feeding off itself. The summer snow was a much better fit for the mountains than blood and mucus.

The firelight flickered over Biku’s pale cheeks. The whiteness of his skin resembled waxwork. The outline of his face was elegantly slender. Under the right circumstances he could easily impersonate a woman, and no other woman would compare. Gay men would either drool over his looks or burn with jealousy. To call him beautiful would be an understatement, Biku’s handsomeness was otherworldly, there was something darkly bewitching about him as the orange firelight reflected in his glistening, dark pupils.

He watched the flames and waited, confident that Hosuke Kumon would find him. He had set up camp where he found the rabbit snared in a trap. He was eating the rabbit.
I wonder how he’ll react.
Biku felt a strange anticipation.
Whenever you’re ready.
Biku was fully prepared.

He sat in the center of a Sacrosanct Barrier, a circular area with a ten-meter radius. Biku had evoked it himself, leaving strands of his hair at the four cardinal points around him, north, south, east and west, each exactly ten meters away from the center. The hairs functioned as anchor points surrounding Biku in something like a spider web of psychic energy. Biku would be alerted the moment someone crossed it.

He sat, biding his time as the wind whistled through the darkness above the canopy of silver fir. Then, as he reached for another skewer of rabbit, Biku noticed something--a figure standing in the darkness to his right. He felt a sudden chill of fear, but it dissipated almost as soon as it arrived. He had perceived a sudden assault of tremendous lethal energy. It seemed to originate from the shadowy figure, but he immediately recognized it as his own. Whatever this shadow was, it had deflected Biku’s energy back. He had literally jumped at his own shadow. This tiger had caught him off guard.

The dark figure just stood there. It had not been there when Biku had arrived. The figure had somehow managed to penetrate this far into the psychic web without touching it.
Why couldn’t I sense him?
The answer was clear.
Ahh...
Biku nodded to himself. The black figure was to his northeast. The northeast led to the
kimon
, the gate of the devil. It was the Sacrosanct Barrier’s only flaw. Coming from the northeast there would be a corridor wide enough for a man with his arms spread to cross. The shadowy figure had come directly through the devil’s gate. In order to seal the corridor, Biku needed to place another anchor point, another lock of hair directly at the north-easternmost point of the barrier, in the direction of the devil’s gate, but he had neglected to do so. It was no coincidence that the temple of Enryakuji had been built to the northeast of Kyoto on Mt. Hiei. It was there to protect the Imperial Dynasties from the
kimon
.

Even accepting that the barrier Biku had evoked was flawed, it would still take more than mere luck to navigate this far through it unnoticed. The probability of someone navigating ten meters without giving themself away was close to zero, especially in the mountains where the narrow path was full of obstacles, even more so in the dead of night. Had this man just been lucky? Impossible, Biku dismissed the idea. The dark figure had done it--he had skillfully steered himself through the narrow passage.

“You must be Hosuke Kumon,” Biku said.

There was no reply. A part of the shadow twitched; a sound of scraping travelled through the darkness. The shadowy figure seemed to be scratching its head. The bulky form stepped forward. The man walked up to the fire, positioning it between the two of them. He came to a stop.

The man in the firelight was covered in a thin layer of dirt. He was about the same height as Biku, 178 centimeters. Despite this, his build was far more bulky. He stood with a slight slouch. He looked like a physical laborer, the type with a story, there was always one like him. His eyes regarded Biku with something of an odd spark in them. He had an impressive beard. He probably had not shaved since withdrawing into the mountains.

His clothing, his skin...everything gave the impression that he had absorbed the mountain to his core. He looked exactly like someone would if they had been wandering lost in the mountains, but at the same time he did not betray even the slightest hint of fatigue. If anything, he was overflowing with a peculiar sense of energy, but the energy did not seem to be anything animal. It was transparent, as though someone had taken a chunk out of the mountain and chiseled it into human form.

Biku attempted to channel his energy toward the man, but it was as though the man had no physical presence. It was not that he hid himself with magic, more that his form had blended with the mountain. Like the mountain air, the man’s aura was crystal clear. To discern his presence in the darkness would be no simple feat.

“Hosuke Kumon, right?” Biku repeated.

The man nodded. They stared across the firelight. Hosuke’s eyes were pools of glass. His expression was difficult to read; Biku was unable to tell if he was angry or enjoying himself.

“So you’re the one that’s been following me.” An enormous sense of power resided in his eyes.

“Yes,” Biku answered, returning the stare, “For nine days now.”

“Hmm.” Hosuke crouched and reached out for one of the skewers. “Not easy,” he muttered to himself as he took a bite of the meat. His teeth looked shockingly strong. He swallowed the meat and licked his fingers as he scanned the area. “This was yours too?” He was referring to the Sacrosanct Barrier Biku had evoked.

“You picked up on that, I see.”

“Impressive,” Hosuke said with genuine admiration. Of course, Biku knew that Hosuke Kumon, the man that had just strolled through the barrier’s blind spot, was no slouch himself.

Then, the two of them noticed something. Something else
.
Something was coming closer through the darkness. A faint sound, something heavy trampling through grass...something large brushing against the branches of the shrubs and still approaching. A strong, animal smell wafted into the air.

“Ah, a bear,” Biku stated. He did not try to stand. He poured some coffee into the pot on the stove and placed it on the ground in front of Hosuke. “How about it?” His sharp eyes focused on the man, watching for his response.

His question had been purposefully vague; he could have been asking if Hosuke wanted coffee or he could have been asking if he was afraid of the coming bear. Biku wanted to see how this strange man would react. His reaction would allow him to judge the extent of his talents.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Hosuke took the cup in his hands. Nothing in his expression had changed. Casual acceptance, that was the extent of his reaction. Usually the mention of a bear was enough drain the color from a man’s face. “Delicious,” Hosuke muttered, taking a sip, “it’s been a while.” He looked directly at Biku. He seemed to be smiling under his beard.

So, he’s testing me too
, thought Biku. Just as he was using the bear in an attempt to gauge Hosuke’s capabilities, so was Hosuke ready to test Biku in his own way.
Alright then.
Biku smiled for the first time, his red lips pulled into a tight line. The smile was enough to make anyone shiver, cold and seductive in equal measure. It was the kind of smile you might see gracing an image of Buddha, an expression of cunning. The sound of the creature continued to approach through the darkness.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Biku said.

“Indeed.” Hosuke sipped at his coffee taking no apparent notice of the danger.

They both knew that it was almost unheard of for a wild bear to approach them like this. All wild animals, bears included, have an instinctive fear of humans. In almost all cases, if the animal notices their presence first, it would choose to avoid them. Bear attacks occur mostly when they are caught off guard. This happens when the two have wandered close without noticing each other. Even then the bear will choose to turn away if there is enough distance between them. A little closer and the bear will enter into a staring match. Even then, the bear will still look for a chance to get away. The worst-case scenario only occurs when someone stumbles right in front of a bear, particularly if the bear has a cub with it or the person surprises it by shouting out.

In Honshu, home to the Asian black bear, such human error is responsible for the majority of bear attacks. The mountains are bear territory and humans are the trespassers. The fact is that animals fear the invading humans. But this bear continued to approach them, that was the strangeness Biku referred to. There was no chance that the bear had failed to notice them. They had a campfire.

There were a few possible scenarios. The first was that the bear was on the verge of starvation, a possibility if the bear was old and no longer able to hunt; it would be drawn by the smell of the meat. There had been cases where bears had stuck their heads into hikers’ tents while foraging for food.

Another possibility was that the bear had been wounded. If it had been shot by a poacher, but the bullet missed its vital organs and the bullet was lodged against a nerve, the bear would be in constant pain. That would impede the bear’s judgment, and the pain would make it difficult for the bear to hunt. Hungry, injured, and full of anger...those factors combined would give rise to the most dangerous type of predator in the mountains. If the bear approaching them was in that state, the two of them were in extreme danger.

“I’ll let you handle this,” Biku said. He was looking forward to the spectacle.

Hosuke sat scratching his head. Before long, the gigantic black beast was upon them. It snorted heavily through its nose. Its large frame shuffled through the darkness. The firelight cast the dark outline of its body in a faint resolve. Hosuke gathered himself up, holding the remaining skewers from the fire together with the remains of the uncooked rabbit. He moved with fluidity that made it look like he was being carried forward by an unseen breeze. Instead of heading toward the bear, he was circling around to a point a few meters away from it. A deep growl issued from the bear’s throat. The growl could have been a mark of hesitation. At the very least, it was not obvious provocation. Hosuke crouched low and lay flat on his stomach, now just a few meters away from the bear. He used his elbows to prop his torso up so that he faced the bear. If the bear attacked now he would be utterly helpless.

In a confrontation between animals relative eye height takes on great importance. Looking down from a higher point is an open sign of aggression. Hosuke had positioned himself far lower than his opponent. He took the meat he had been carrying and carefully put it between himself and the bear. The bear growled deeply in response. It stepped from side to side, but the movement was clearly one of caution. It approached slowly. Hosuke had begun to mutter something in a low voice, but Biku was unable to make out the words from where he sat. The bear was right before him now and began to feast on the meat. Biku watched as Hosuke reached out and touched the bear’s right leg with his hand. The bear growled as its leg twitched. Hosuke withdrew his hand. When the bear finished eating, it turned and left as though nothing had happened. Hosuke drew his bulky frame up and stood there scratching at his head. Biku had witnessed something remarkable.

“Can you talk to bears?” Biku asked when Hosuke came back.

“Nope.” Hosuke folded his legs, settling into the same space as before. “That was Japanese.”

“What did you say to it?”

“I was singing a lullaby.”

“And the bear understood it?”

“How should I know?” Hosuke muttered appearing bored. If it was an act, his performance was flawless. Hosuke glanced around the fire. The rabbit was all gone. “Guess I used it all.” He made an infantile face.

“Would you like me to prepare something?”

“Nah.” Hosuke rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled out a skewer of rabbit meat. “I kept one to the side.” He smiled for the first time. It was a dangerously endearing smile. Biku still could not gauge whether the man was being serious or just playing with him. “That bear,” Hosuke started, mouth stuffed with the meat, “had a bullet wound in its leg. A year old, thereabouts.”

Biku looked up when Hosuke had finished eating. “It appears that we have guests,” he said.

“So it seems,” Hosuke murmured back.

5

They saw the torchlight first, three bright points approaching them through spaces between the trees.

Finally, three men appeared. Biku knew them from earlier, the trio of Iba, Yajima, and Hiroshi. They turned off their torches. Their faces seemed to float in the dim firelight. Iba stood in the center while Hiroshi flanked his right and Yajima his left. Another figure appeared soon after them, huge and cloaked in darkness. It was the shadowy figure of a ridiculously large man. He did not seem to need a flashlight; his eyes were perhaps adjusted to the dark. The man carried a woman in his hands. They were both dressed in black. The woman wore a hood-like cloth over her head, like the dress of women in the Islamic Middle East, designed to conceal her face from strangers. Her eyes were visible through a single, crescent-shaped opening. The man came to a stop behind the other three. He lowered the woman down with gentleness at odds with his enormity. The woman nestled herself to his side. They hardly made a sound. She looked directly at Biku and Hosuke. The color of the campfire flickered an invitation in her black eyes.