The Shield of Kuromori

‘NO!’ barked one of the newcomers. Something flashed in his hand, thunder echoed through the dome and Blue’s head exploded like a water balloon. Kiyomi froze, one hand tucked into the gap between the two tubes.

The blue oni’s twitching body crumbled to dust and the huge gun barrel swung in her direction. The hand holding it glinted in the dim light.

‘I thought I made myself perfectly clear,’ the newcomer said to Red, whose complexion was draining to a weak pink. ‘There is to be no damage to the telescope. Speaking of which . . .’ CLICK-CLICK. His thumb ratcheted back the hammer on the heavy pistol and he took aim at Kiyomi’s chest. ‘Move. Now.’

Kiyomi didn’t wait for a second request. She sprang up, arms outstretched, caught hold of the partly assembled metal frame above her head and vaulted on to the circular walkway, which doubled as a viewing gallery where the wall ended and the dome began.

‘Stay up there, out of my way, and I won’t kill you,’ warned the oni with the gun. ‘Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ Kiyomi said. She wasn’t sure, given the distance, but the new oni seemed to be wearing a silver mask.

The oni in the passageway behind him, a lavender-hued brute with one arm longer than the other, set down the oil drum he was carrying and picked up the fallen scaffolding pole. Handing it to Red, he said, ‘What are you waiting for? Shogatsu? Hurry it up.’

Crouched down on the walkway and watching the oni below, Kiyomi reached for her phone. She had two thoughts: What the heck are those oni doing? and Where’s Kenny when I need him?

Orange flickers illuminated the top floor of the gutted building. The metal stairs and platforms of the fire-escape hung like modern art sculptures on the wall. Kenny listened intently, trying to filter out the incessant shrill of the fire alarms and approaching sirens.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP! It was unmistakable: someone was pounding on the fire-escape door, trying to break it loose from its warped frame. Kenny scoured his surroundings. People were trapped on what remained of the top floor and, with time running out, he had to help them down – but how?

KRAKK! Kenny looked up. The sound had come from one of the many tall trees around him. This one was sagging inward, close to a blazing window. Its leaves had shrivelled in the heat and a heavy branch had split as the moisture inside had turned to steam and expanded. Staring up at the tree, Kenny had an idea.

He stood directly beneath the fire-escape door – high above on the third floor – and marched away from the building, counting the distance in paces. Satisfied, he stopped and selected a large pine tree, about twenty metres tall and half a metre wide.

‘Here goes,’ he said to himself and, hefting the sword, he cut a deep notch into the trunk with two diagonal swipes, one down and one up. A wedge of trunk fell out. Kenny waited. Nothing happened. He cut again, making the cleft deeper. Still nothing.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ He stepped back from the tree, took a running jump and drop-kicked the trunk as high as he could. The pine shuddered and, with a series of cracks as loud as gunshots, it began to topple.

‘Yes, yes!’ Kenny cheered, watching it swing towards the building. Then ‘No, no!’ as it begin to twist away.

Fists clenched and eyes screwed shut, Kenny concentrated his will. Two blasts of wind caught the upper branches on each side, holding the treetop for a moment. It rolled and then began to fall again. The tip smashed in the fire-escape door and the long straight trunk settled at a 45-degree angle.

Kenny punched the air and began clambering up the trunk. He wove his way round the first few branches, then called Kusanagi and lopped away the thicker foliage. The trunk tapered at the top, where it rested on the sill. ‘Hello in there!’ Kenny called through the battered door. ‘You’ve got to leave now.’

A bespectacled Japanese man gaped at him from the doorway, eyes as wide and bulgy as a goldfish. ‘Shinji rarenai,’ he said.

‘Come on!’ Kenny extended his arm. ‘Let’s go.’

The man shook his head and backed away. A younger man, wearing a fire marshal’s reflective vest, pushed past him. ‘The tree,’ he said. ‘It’s not safe.’

‘Of course it is. Look.’ Kenny jumped on the trunk. It creaked and shook. His foot slipped and he landed with a thump on his rear, dislodging a bird’s nest which shattered on the ground, far below. ‘OK, tell you what. I’ll make it easier.’ Kenny took Kusanagi and, with a quick cut down and across, he fashioned a shallow step.

He moved back and cut a second. ‘Stairs,’ he said. ‘Will that do?’

The fire marshal nodded once and stuck a cautious leg out. He reached back, held the hand of a secretary and guided her out. Kenny continued working his way down the trunk, cutting out steps for the office staff to follow. There were eight workers in all, holding hands in a human chain, all helping each other. The tree shuddered as a burst of flame coughed from the open doorway above. A woman screamed and stumbled, her shoe tumbling to the ground.

‘It’s OK,’ Kenny called up. ‘You’re doing great.’

BZZZT! Kenny’s wrist vibrated.

He carved out the last step and jumped down to check his smartwatch. TRAPPED IN DOME WITH 3 ONI AND MORE ON THE WAY. BE CAREFUL. Kenny blinked. Since when did Kiyomi ever warn him to be careful? It was usually the other way round. How bad was this?

He took a quick look to make sure that the office workers were safely clear of the blazing ruin and then made for the short road leading to the observatory. Rounding the trees, he saw another delivery van whizz past, followed by the earth-shaking bulk of a container lorry. Both ground to a halt outside the domed building.

Kenny’s feet pounded the asphalt as he drew nearer. The back doors of the van flew open and a grey oni jumped out. It was hunched over, carrying something. Kenny slowed down, trying to make out what it was. One hand supported the weight, the other gripped a handle. Was it a leaf blower? A hedge trimmer? A chainsaw?

The oni strode away from the vehicles and levelled the object in Kenny’s direction. His blood turned to ice as he made out six long tubes in a circular arrangement.

Kenny had played enough video games to recognise a M134 Gatling Minigun when he saw one – and this one was aimed right at him.

SQUEEEEEEEE-AAAAAWWW! The screech of the circular saw changed pitch as it bit into the metal of the telescope mount, bearing down harder and spraying an arc of golden sparks across the floor. The lavender oni leaned in, pressing down on the spinning disc.

‘Easy does it. You don’t want to snap the blade,’ warned the silver-masked team leader. He hummed a tune to himself while he inspected the gantry assembled round the telescope. Scaffolding poles criss-crossed in a steel web and heavy cables were draped around the huge instrument.

Kiyomi sat up at the sound of doors opening. Eleven pairs of heavy boots clomped into the room and took up positions around the perimeter. Eleven oni – four dressed as drivers, plus seven passengers – add the three in the room . . .

‘We’ve got company,’ one of the drivers said to the lead oni.

‘I know,’ the chief replied, pointing a claw up at the gallery. Kiyomi raised her middle finger in acknowledgement.

‘No, outside. Some stupid-looking gaijin kid in shorts. He can see us.’

The mask raised its eyebrows. ‘Kuromori? Hmm. Nothing changes. We stick to the plan. If he gives us any trouble, I’ll take care of him.’

‘Here it goes!’ said the oni with the saw.

‘Quickly! Take up the slack,’ ordered the boss.

Moving as one, the oni all took up positions, some grabbing hold of the telescope, others bracing the frame and the remainder taking hold of the cables. The giant instrument pivoted on the last of its mounting before, with a final cut, it lurched free. Cries and groans filled the dome as the oni struggled to support the weight. Kiyomi watched the gantry buckle outwards, but it didn’t break.

‘Steady . . . steady!’ called the chief. ‘Lower it gently. Six and Eight, move into position.’

Two oni ran forward to situate themselves at each end of the telescope and it was lowered on to their shoulders.

In well-drilled, practised movements, the monsters arranged themselves round their prize, six on each side, like coffin-bearers, and proceeded to shuffle towards the lower exit, led by the one with the saw.

Silver remained in the room. His glowing red eyes picked out Kiyomi, hunched on the walkway, her arms round her knees.

‘So you’re the girl who likes to kill oni,’ he said.

Kiyomi glared back at him. ‘Put down the gun and let’s find out.’

Silver chuckled and reached into his uniform pocket, extracting a sausage-shaped metal tube.

‘Now what?’ Kiyomi pressed. ‘You’re going to shoot me and run away like the coward you are?’

The oni flipped the cap off the tube and tapped a cigar into his hand. He bit the end off and stuck it between his fangs. ‘Hey, you kill oni, I kill humans. It’s what we do.’ He snapped his fingers and a flame jumped up from his hand. He waved the cigar tip over the flame and sucked, inhaling deeply. ‘Oh, man. That’s good. As I was saying, it’s nothing personal, just business, right?’ He leaned down and tore the cap off the large steel drum. ‘No? OK – for you, it’s personal – but still, we’re not that different. Am I right or am I right?’

He tapped out a beat on the lid of the drum before picking it up and, humming again, he poured petrol on to the floor and splashed it up the walls. Gasoline fumes wavered and swirled high into the air, making Kiyomi’s eyes sting from the sweet, sickly odour.

Silver set the drum down again and pressed the back of his palm against his forehead by way of a salute. ‘Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you in Hell one of these days.’

And with that he turned on his heel and headed for the exit, tossing the cigar over his shoulder. It bounced once, rolled – and nuzzled a puddle of fuel.

Kiyomi barely had time to scream before – WHOOOOMPf! – a blue flame rolled across the floor, igniting the remainder of the petrol. In seconds, the interior of the dome was ablaze. Fiery tongues leapt high into the air, licking at the vintage wooden ceiling.

Kenny hurled himself to the ground as the world exploded around him. Blistering chunks of high-velocity lead chewed up the asphalt, grass, bushes, trees – everything.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! The Minigun roared, disgorging over twenty rounds per second through a fiery halo which hovered in front of the spinning barrels. Spent cartridges cascaded to the floor, clinking like a slot machine paying out a jackpot win. Chips of tarmac pelted Kenny’s body and wooden splinters stabbed into his hands, which were shielding his head. Move! his brain screamed, but his legs weren’t listening.

‘Me see you!’ the oni bellowed above the roar of gunfire, and adjusted its aim.

Kenny centred his ki, imagining a thick heavy wall and threw an arm up.

‘Huh?!’ he heard the oni cry, and he opened his eyes. A low bank of soil had risen up from the ground, shielding Kenny from the oni’s weapon. The beat of thudding bullets stopped. ‘Not fair!’ the oni bellowed and Kenny heard the thumping of its boots approaching.

This time, his legs scrambled into action, propelling him headlong into the nearest stand of trees. Foliage detonated once again on all sides as the oni resumed firing.

‘Where you hide, boy, if no trees left?’ the oni said.

Kenny crouched behind a thick, sturdy Japanese cedar, a metre wide at the base. He was pinned down, with valuable seconds ticking away.

‘Hey, stupid!’ he yelled. ‘Reckon you can chop down this tree?’ Kenny poked his head round for the oni to see.

‘Oni not stupid!’ the oni said.

Kenny dropped to his knees and ducked his head as a flurry of bullets ripped into the tree. The smell of burning wood stung his nostrils and splinters rained down.

‘Hah!’ the oni said. ‘Me tell you. No tree, no hide. You die now.’

K-RAKKK!

Kenny peered upwards, saw the huge tree start to lean over – and smiled.

‘Hey, what so funn–?’ The oni’s yellow eyes widened as the massive trunk crashed down, driving him into the ground like a hammer pounding a nail.

Kenny was trying to think of something smart to say when movement caught his eye. The three delivery vans were pulling out from the observatory, followed by the twelve-metre container lorry. The oni were leaving, but where was Kiyomi?

Edging forward for a better view, Kenny saw a wisp of black smoke rising from the observatory dome. With an icy ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, he began to run.

Kiyomi shrank from the sea of fire below; with the floor now a blazing inferno, there was no way down. The heat was as intense as a sauna and growing hotter by the second.

The flames jumped higher, licking at the timber beams of the roof, while a burst of confetti sparks danced in the air. Kiyomi buried her face in the crook of her arm and blinked furiously. It was only a matter of time before the wooden dome caught alight and, even if she could survive the fire, the roof would cave in and crush her.

Kiyomi sprang to her feet. Ignoring the steam rising off her leathers and wiping sweat from her eyes, she scanned the inside of the dome, searching for a telltale sign of movement within the pall of smoke. There! A faint stirring about a third of the way up. Kiyomi ran round the gantry until she was in line with the disturbance.

She reached into her boots and drew a short dagger from each one. Gripping them tightly, she stepped up on to the searing handrail, balancing on the narrow beam like a gymnast, with her back to the raging flames. She took a deep breath, focused her will and crouched down, before launching upwards, kicking off with her toes, arms stretched high over her head.

She soared aloft, into the smoke, keeping in line with one of the heavy, rib-like support beams that curved overhead. As soon as the joist was within reach, Kiyomi stabbed the blade tips into it, one on each side, skewering the wood. The tungsten-carbide points bit deeply and held. She dangled for a second, feeling the ligaments in her arms and shoulders stretch, while the beams above creaked and popped, expanding in the rising temperature.

Kiyomi blinked her stinging eyes and searched again for the tiny crack in the planks through which she had seen eddying smoke escape. There it was – where two panels overlapped: a split, barely a millimetre wide. She let go of the blade in her right hand, so her whole weight was supported by her left.

Ignoring the rising ache in her lungs, she drew back her free hand and smashed the heel of her palm into the crack. The impact jarred through her arm. Sweat ran down her left wrist and she felt her grip loosening on the dagger. Kiyomi slammed her palm against the wood again.

Spots danced behind her eyes, but she refused to give in. If only she had a hand free to perform the correct kata and trace the power symbol in the air, to channel her ki . . . But then Kiyomi found herself wondering: What would Kenny do? The goddess Inari had chosen him as her champion because of his ability to think differently. If Kenny couldn’t find an answer, he changed the question.

And then it came to her – though it was a long shot and the timing would have to be perfect. Ribbons of flame danced along the support timbers, like heralds announcing that the dome was now ablaze. She was out of time.

Kiyomi let go of the dagger in her left fist and whipped the same hand across, down, up again at a diagonal and then down again, writing a kanji character in the air as she fell.

‘Chikara!’ she yelled, exhaling in a single gasp. At the same time, her right fist streaked through the smoke and connected with the split in the wood. KAH-RUUNCH! Her strike tore through the plank as easily as if it was paper, punching out the external metal tile. The fire quickened, as if sensing the loss of its quarry, and flames reached towards her. Kiyomi thrust her other arm into the hole, pulled up and wriggled her shoulders through.

‘Kiyomi!’ Kenny stared, struck with numb horror at the flames spewing out of both entrances of the observatory. Even from where he stood, the heat was blistering, and the awful truth was that anyone inside would be incinerated. Kenny wiped a grimy knuckle across his stinging eyes and prepared to direct the anger and grief welling inside. He had created water once before. Now it was time for –

BZZZT!

Kenny blinked in bewilderment. He checked his smartwatch and read: GET OUT OF THE WAY.

‘Huh?’ He stumbled backwards. The next thing he knew there was a scraping, sliding sound from above, a blur of movement and a black-leather-clad figure dropped to the ground directly in front of him, landing on all fours, with steam rising off its shoulders.

Kenny was speechless. Kiyomi wasn’t.

‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘I’m trapped in there with a whole army of oni turning me into barbecue and you’re out here – sightseeing.’

‘What? You told me to go rescue people, and that’s what I was doing, until this oni turned up with a Minigun and shot down half the trees.’

Kiyomi took in Kenny’s appearance – clothes smeared with dust and soot, splinters in his hair, knees grazed, small cuts across his face – and softened. ‘OK. He’s clever, I’ll give him that.’

‘Who?’

‘The oni in charge.’

‘I thought you said before that all oni are stupid.’ Kenny glanced back at the fallen tree.

‘This one’s different. He created a diversion, blew up two buildings and then set us a trap.’

A loud splintering sound came from the dome and a section of roof fell inwards, sending a shower of sparks into the twilight sky.

‘We should go,’ Kiyomi said. ‘Fire and ambulance are here already; it won’t be long before the police start asking questions.’ She set off towards a large shrub.

‘Let’s start with why,’ Kenny said. ‘Why go to all this trouble? Why burn down half the observatory?’

Kiyomi reached into the bush and grabbed a pair of handlebars. ‘Best way to cover your tracks,’ she said. ‘Set a fire and destroy all evidence.’

Kenny frowned. ‘Evidence? Of what?’

‘Ken-chan, they just stole a seventeen-tonne telescope.’

Kiyomi wheeled her motorbike out of its hiding place and waited for this to sink in.

‘They stole a honking great telescope?’ Kenny repeated.

‘Uh-huh.’ She pulled on her crash helmet.

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s ask them.’ Kiyomi sat astride the bike and powered up the engine.

‘How are we going to do that? They’re long gone.’

Kiyomi switched on the dashboard display screen. ‘Yeah, but they’re stuck in rush-hour traffic, heading south on Route 123.’

Kenny smiled. ‘You planted a bug? Then why are you wasting time talking to me?’ He jumped on the bike behind Kiyomi. ‘Let’s get after them!’

Kiyomi flipped her visor down. ‘Hang on tight. This might get rough.’

She spun the bike round, its rear tyre spraying up a geyser of dirt, and cut through the trees behind the burnt-out building, before streaking out of the front gate.

Two police cars were stationed outside the National Observatory to control access. One of them reversed slowly, to permit another fire engine to pass through, when a silent motorcycle blitzed past, hurtling out of the gates. It swerved right, narrowly avoiding a number 91 bus, and headed south on Route 123.

Cars crawled along the road, bumper to bumper. Kiyomi consulted the dashboard display once more and swung out into the centre. Keeping both wheels on the orange line in the middle, she followed the curve of the road, eating up the distance.

‘They haven’t gone far,’ she called back to Kenny, who was hanging on for grim life. ‘They’re at the next traffic lights, by the primary school.’

‘Won’t they see us coming?’

As if on cue, a boxy delivery van pulled out into the opposite lane and parked at a right angle, blocking the road.

‘That’s not good,’ Kenny warned. ‘Better slow down.’

Kiyomi sped up. ‘No way. I’m not stopping for those clowns.’

‘Are you nuts?’

‘Hold on tight!’

Kenny saw the leer of triumph on the face of the oni in the driver’s seat change to befuddlement as Kiyomi eased off the throttle for a split second, leaned forward, then hit the power and snapped her arms back.

The front of the bike lifted in a perfect wheelie and Kiyomi veered left, bringing the wheel down with a thump on the back of a yellow taxi. Before Kenny could object, she opened up the throttle again and the motorbike lurched over the stationary vehicle, nosed down over the bonnet and on to the boot of a Toyota sedan in front. Kenny felt his stomach heave up into his chest and drop down again while he clung on to Kiyomi.

The oni watched the motorcycle ride up and down over the row of waiting cars, passing round the back of the van.

‘NOOO! You come back – now!’ it roared, shaking both fists.

With a final burst of speed, the motorbike leapt off the roof of a Honda estate and touched down on asphalt, streaking it with black rubber. Ignoring the shouts of angry drivers, Kiyomi continued down the centre line, leaving the oni behind.

BEEP! Kenny whipped his head round at the sound of smashing metal and tinkling glass. Behind him and closing fast, the delivery van was tearing down the road on the wrong side. The few cars heading north swerved on to the wide pavement and screeched to a stop, out of its way.

The oni behind the steering wheel grinned and stomped the accelerator to the floor.

‘Kiyomi!’ Kenny shouted.

Kiyomi’s eyes flicked to the handlebar mirrors. ‘I can’t outrun him, or we’ll miss our turning,’ she said. ‘You slow him down.’

‘Me?’ Kenny said. ‘How?’

‘In the pannier on your right. Grab the tetsubishi spikes and throw them on the road.’

Kenny reached into the box. ‘Ow! I just stabbed my thumb. Forget it. I’ve got a better idea.’

Kenny peered ahead, ignoring the van, which was now barely three metres behind. The drill tower of a fire station flashed by on the right and a four-way junction lay ahead.

‘Get as close as you can to the kerb,’ Kenny said, as Kusanagi materialised into his hand.

The van’s front bumper was closing on the motorbike’s rear wheel. ‘Me crush you like bag,’ the oni bellowed through the open window.

‘It’s “bug”, you dope, as in “crush you like a bug”,’ Kenny said. ‘Oh, never mind.’ He lashed out with the sword, slicing through the bulk of a roadside telegraph pole. The concrete column wavered for a moment, before it fell, ripping loose thick black electrical cables, which whiplashed through the air.

The oni caught a glimpse of movement in its wing mirror before the pole smashed on to the top of the cab, amid a shower of sparks. Lightning crackled round the van, which rolled to a stop.

‘Nice shot,’ said Kiyomi.

‘Not really,’ Kenny said. ‘I wanted it to drop in front of him, like a road block.’