MORIKO HANZO POV:
Okay...this might just take the cake as "the single dumbest thing I have ever thought to do."
The train has just arrived in the station, and everyone is boarding. This includes the theater troupe, who I still can't be completely certain aren't plotting something...but also, that I know for sure one of them is an Inugami: The one wearing the red Oni mask, with a body like a pro wrestler. With arms like he could probably crush me like a tin can.
If I get on that train, and my suspicion that one or both of the two actors I haven't checked are carrying a bomb...I'll be putting myself directly in the danger zone.
So no pressure, then, right? This thing could, quite literally, blow up in my face,
But if I don't go, and my hunch is still correct...and that they're actually targeting the train, or someone or something else...
I might be the only who can stop them.
The doors to the train hiss then slam shut, and the engine rumbles to life.
I follow the theater actors, going from car to car, never letting them out of my sight.
One of them—the Clown—gives a sinister chuckle."My my, aren't you persistent."
"I believe we were interrupted, earlier, while I was in the middle of conducting your routine body search. I'm sorry, it'll only take a few moments of your time~"
The Red Oni suddenly halts in his tracks, sharply facing me with a deep growl. He's flanked by the Ghost and the Noble, revealing daggers they'd had tucked inside of their sleeves. They position themselves so that they're blocking my path...allowing the other two actors to continue on to the next car.
"Have it your way, then." I crack my knuckles. "Though, I would advise against non-compliance."
"Annoying bitch!" the Red Oni snarls.
The Hermit adds, "should've stayed under your Alpha's paw!"
"Aw, but then we never would've met like this!" I laughed. "I hope you put on a better performance than that last guy."
The Red Oni falls on all fours, throwing his head back in a primal howl.
Oh God yeah...
My Inu blood is going fucking nuts right now!
A fight! A fucking fight! Yes...YES! YES!
I'm on all fours, too. Snarling, with festering warm drool pouring down my chin.
This is the face of a complete materialization: a near-uncontrollable monster that seeks only bloodshed.
I'll fucking tear you limb-from-limb, and lap up your guts!
We both lunge at the same time, slashing with our jagged black claws.
My claw connects with his right cuff. His nails me in the upper left of my chest, feeling more like a punch that sends me flying back from its raw force.
A fight to the death, between two Inugami...
HAS to be brutal. HAS to be vicious, and bloody; there is no other way.
I may not possess the brute strength of my opponent, but I do have the skill and speed to outmaneuver his blows: circling and dodging, leaping on and off the walls and sitting benches, all the while landing claw and bite-strikes wherever I can find a gap in his defenses, always aiming for his most vital points; Shikake waza and Oji waza: an initiation followed by counterattack, as in Kendo.
Only, our techniques aren't declared except by our angry howls and snarls and snapping teeth. There is no referee, or chance for a timeout.
Eventually, I'm able to latch unto his neck with my jaws.
He howls in pain, shaking to try to rid himself of me, but I only dig in deeper.
I can taste the warm blood trickling between my teeth, and know that I've already won.
I've punctured his jugular. Now, all that's left is to stay attached to him, until he's totally bled out, so that the wound cannot heal.
During this moment of extreme razor-focus, however...
I lost track of the two other theater actors that were with the Red Oni.
They had mostly kept to the sidelines, out of the way of the vicious frenzy between me and their ally, but now I felt their dagger blades plunging into my sides and back.
Argh! I know this feeling—
Their daggers are made with silver, I'm certain of it!
I can feel its sting, seeping deep into my muscle and bones...
Still, no matter what, I mustn't let go of the Red Oni.
clamping my jaws down harder, I pivot my whole body around so that I'm positioned on top of his back...out of the reach of the others. Then I flail my tail about, that is long and slender like a whip, but also tacticle: until I've found and securely gripped the hand of one of the knife-wielding actors with it.
Jackpot!
What follows...is somewhat more difficult to describe.
The layperson might call it "possession." I've always heard it be called "kodoku."
My tail becomes like a tether, no longer existing in a plane where it can be touched or seen as but a moving, long shadow...
It crawls up my victim's veins, like a worm...
"I...can feel it moving inside of me!" he says, panicking.
—eventually, reaching the brain.
At which point I am able to see through my target's eyes, just as I can through my own.
Furthermore...I can control their actions at will.
So, using this power...I send my new puppet—the Ghost actor—to attack the Noble in a hail of knifestabs that he doesn't see coming.
THUNK! Is the sound of his body falling to the ground. Dead.
I can no longer feel the Red Oni's pulse through my fangs, either. So that makes two...
Leaving just the actor which I still have under my control.
"I may have a use for you, yet," I say, in a voice that is like mine...but also different: layered with that other side of me, steeped in pure animal menace. "But first..."
Concentrating, I deepen my tether to his mind and spirit...
I'm probing into the most intimate corners of his mind, while he remains powerless to resist...
His memories flash through my mind like pages in a picturebook: his childhood, his teen years as a delinquent before finding his calling as an actor, his subsequent string of failed relationships leading to the death of his career...only to then, in his darkest hour, be saved by a large, gallant figure dressed in full theater costume...
I hear the same name echoed, repeated over and over again by countless voices:
"Goemon...Goemon...Goemon...GOEMON...GoEmOn...GOEmon...GOEMON—"
Pop! Pop, pop!
There is a hail of gunshots coming from further along the train, and my target is obliterated.
Damn it. Just as I was on the verge of discovering more about this mysterious "Goemon" character.
Fuming, I shift my attention toward the source of the gunshots. Who dares steal my prey?!
It was one of the other persons I saw waiting on the subway platform...
His appearance is striking, with hair is bleach blonde that's spiked back, shaved on the sides. A yellow down-filled coat, exyending to his feet...
And a pair of orange blueblocker shades.
"Ah!" I recognize him instantly. "Hey! You're the punk who stole my sweater!"
Back when I first confronted the theater actors on the platform, he came up behind, calling me a "crazy bitch," and stole the sweater I just got from Kanako right off me!
He's holding it in his hand, the other armed with a revolver...that's now pointing at me.
When he speaks, he's dead-serious: "That's right...I figured I would have something to show for when I go to make my report later."
"Your...report..." I wince from the pain of my silver-wounds. "Ow!"
To our right, a blast of bright sunlight shines in through the window. So I turn, lifting my arm to shield my eyes...and there's an incredible view of Tokyo, Mt. Fuji looming in the distance.
"Silver, the bane of all werefiends..." the punk muses, as he plucks several bullets from a front pocket of his coat and inserts them each with a sharp click into the open chamber. "These bullets...are made of silve. More than enough to finish you off, in your present state." He slams the chamber shut, then, slowling pulling back the trigger as he points the revolver at me again. "Unless you can tell me exactly who you are, and which clan you serve."
I give a weary laugh. "Yukari...Hanzo."
His mouth opens wide, as though in surprise. "Hanzo? Do you mean as in—"
"Hattori Hanzo...yes." I struggle to prop myself up on my arms, only to fall right back down. "I'm the Hanzo lineage's only living...Inu-blooded descendant."
"But...that can't be! The Hanzo clan never dabbled in sorcery; there is no Hanzo Inu branch."
I moaned, wishing I could be in bed right now. "I'm just...special like that."
"Okay...assuming you're telling the truth"—he lowers his gun to his side, like he's willing to trust me now—"what's going on? It seemed like you knew these men were plotting something."
I'm grabbing onto a chair, using it to hoist myself up.
Every word I speak becomes a strain: "bombs...two more left...got away."
He gasps. "Bombs?" As the train then enters into a tunnel, everything goes dark. "Are they going to hijack the train?!"