Kishibe sat in a private meeting, his hands resting calmly in his lap. His gaze remained fixed on the man before him, the head of Public Safety's Special Division 4, an aging figure by the name of Kentaro Miki. Meanwhile, the older gentleman sifted through files of obscure documents and papers.
Yet, Kishibe's attention was divided; he couldn't help but notice the vacant seat beside him where his partner should have been. His posture stiffened, and the muscles in his concealed arms tensed. Not once had he felt panic when confronting a devil since the battle with that butterfly-like creature a year ago. After that fight, most of the devils he encountered seemed like ludicrous concepts in general. Nevertheless, his instincts whispered that something was amiss in his present circumstances.
"Kishibe, you've been working with Ms. Quanxi for eight years, correct?" Kentaro inquired, adjusting his glasses.
"Yes, the previous head assigned me to Quanxi's squad as I was the only volunteer for front-line work," Kishibe replied.
"Do you believe that her conduct and ability are satisfactory?" Kishibe knew what the old man was hinting at.
"Quanxi has had no issues conducting herself in any manner unbecoming of a devil hunter," Kishibe affirmed.
"Miss Quanxi is originally from China, correct?" Kishibe's shoulders tensed.
"Quanxi moved to Japan as a child and has lived here her entire life, as far as I'm aware," Kishibe provided. He had gleaned some information about Quanxi's personal life over the past decade.
"Do you believe her loyalty could be swayed?" Kentaro inquired, putting Kishibe on edge.
"Sir, with all due respect, might I ask the purpose of this interrogation?" Kishibe asked.
"Does this feel like an interrogation to you?" Kentaro questioned, cornering Kishibe. "I believe you are being questioned about your partner based on something you may have guessed at."
Kentaro explained, "This isn't a questioning, Commander Kishibe; this is a simple test." The old man slid a file across the wooden desk toward Kishibe.
"We have been following Miss Quanxi for over a year now, ever since China began mobilizing fiends in a new devil hunting brigade. We hope there are no people with... divided loyalties working with us."
Kishibe cautiously opened the Manila folder, his eyes falling upon an incident report dated January 19, 1976. "You see, Commander Kishibe, after the battle with the 'butterfly' devil, there were two hours where, on government time, Quanxi was not seen or heard from during her shift. At the time, we viewed this as highly unusual, as Quanxi had an excellent track record thus far. Do you have any idea where she might have gone during this time?"
Kishibe subtly shook his head, maintaining a stoic expression, his eyes locked on the documents. "She explained to me that she was going to a meeting."
"With Public Safety, I presume?" Kentaro guessed.
"I had believed so," Kishibe confirmed.
Kentaro carefully folded his glasses and placed them in a small carrier on the table. "That night, she was seen with a known Chinese admiral, Chia-Hao. Chia-Hao has been attempting to recruit devil hunters of Chinese descent or origin in 25 different nations over the past year," he disclosed.
Kishibe couldn't help but scoff, "Obviously, Quanxi has chosen not to join them, considering she has shown up to work every day for the past year."
Kentaro's expression darkened, "If that is the case, then it doesn't explain the contents of page 15." Kishibe pushed the papers aside, moving his hands slowly to conceal any emotion or panic. Yet, his hands began to subtly shake as grainy photos of Quanxi in a Chinese location, meeting with a general he had seen on TV earlier that day, giving a speech, appeared before him. He couldn't believe it. "Her meeting with the Chinese doesn't prove anything. She has taken sabbaticals before and has met with influential people. Her title as the first devil hunter precedes her."
Kentaro scoffed, "I didn't bring you here to accuse her of anything. I'm simply asking you to examine what we have found and go ask her yourself." Kentaro's gaze locked onto Kishibe's trembling hands, prompting him to still them. "I'll do what I can."
For over a year, Quanxi had been meeting with Chia-Hao on a monthly basis. Although the man was eager to recruit her for the Chinese devil hunting brigade, even offering an exorbitant amount of money as an enticement, her loyalty remained steadfast. She found herself in a secluded booth within a remote bar, which Chia-Hao had designated as the meeting spot in a letter left at her apartment.
She waited for the young man to arrive, and while he had been punctual in previous meetings, lately, his timely manner had begun to slip. Occasionally, he would take an extra five minutes or so, likely using a less straightforward route to make monitoring difficult. Ten minutes had now passed, and Quanxi's thoughts drifted as she sipped on a cup of black tea offered to her by the barkeep.
Her memories flashed back to a dimly lit room, suffused in crimson hues, with Kishibe pressed against a wall. Quanxi, lost in her own thoughts, her eyes barely registering the night's events, seemed to drift into a haze as she pinned him.
She shook her head, attempting to dispel the recollections of that summer night from her mind. She realized she needed to leave the country; she had overextended herself and made a grave mistake. She placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose, inwardly wincing at the memory of Kishibe's eyes, clear and unclouded, gazing deeply into hers with more vitality than she had seen in them in almost half a decade.
Chia-Hao's offer echoed incessantly in her mind: "A clean start, a fresh new life, more money than she could ever spend, anything she might desire." Her image in the mirror, always appearing at the most inconvenient times, flashed before her again. Her internal struggle, her mind yearning to drift back to the morning after that fateful night, intensified.
"I can't do this," she whispered. Quanxi had learned to suppress her emotions during her meetings with Chia-Hao. Despite his obvious attraction to her, she had kept him at arm's length during their conversations, her thoughts continually returning to Kishibe. She knew he would thrive on his own, perhaps even better now that she wasn't there to distract him. To make matters worse.
"You know I've never been drunk."
Quanxi's focus snapped back to the bar scene around her. Her eyes rose to meet Kishibe's, and her expression gave only a faint trace of surprise. "I've never been intoxicated in the entire decade I've known you. My system just burns alcohol the moment it touches my stomach; my mother always said I inherited it from her father. They called it 'hot-blooded.'" Kishibe sat in the booth in front of her, his usual stoic demeanor now tinged with a somber quality. Though almost imperceptible to others, the slight arch of his brow and the subtle dip of his eyebrows conveyed more than she could put into words.
"I don't know why I've gone drinking with you as much as I have. I've never been fond of drinking," he confessed. "What about that line you give the recruits? Drinking, killing devils, and women." she asked
"Weakness is a lot easier to hide when people think they know what it is. But I've only ever had one," Kishibe said, his gaze fixed on Quanxi's eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I came for a meeting," she replied.
The young man chuckled, "Yes, I heard it was with Chia-Hao, wasn't it?"
Kishibe reached into his coat, and Quanxi braced herself, expecting him to retrieve a flask or perhaps a concealed weapon. "I'm not here to fight you," he declared, his voice clear as he finally found what he was searching for in his pocket. He lowered his balled fist toward a napkin on the table, opening his hand to drop the item onto the paper cover.
Quanxi couldn't help but notice the Chinese dragon emblem on the ring, which the bloodied finger that Kishibe had just placed on the table was attached to. "Chia-Hao was a vain man, too focused on getting others to defend him rather than doing it himself," she remarked, swallowing thickly as she examined the severed finger. It wasn't the sight of it that frightened or surprised her; it was the fact that it came from a particular person. Kishibe was many things—a devil hunter, an assumed drinker, a philanderer—but a man-slayer wasn't one of them.
"I didn't enjoy hurting him," Kishibe noted, seemingly attuned to her expression, "but he refused to answer my questions."
"Kishibe, this doesn't involve you," Quanxi declared.
"My partner is planning to defect to another nation's military force to work with devils, and this doesn't involve me?" Kishibe responded, his frustration evident as he covered half of his face with his left hand, leaving only his scarred side visible.
"Special Division 4 has been keeping tabs on you, Quanxi. Kentaro informed me today," Kishibe explained. Quanxi tried to collect her thoughts. "I wasn't going to vanish without a word."
Kishibe's facial expression remained stoic, signaling for her to continue. "I claimed I didn't remember that night in Kyoto, but I lied."
Kishibe's eyes noticeably brightened, and he began to speak, but Quanxi interrupted, saying, "Don't... say anything." She exhaled, her voice steady. "Do you recall that night at the bar when you poured blood into your beer and said you wanted us to be truthful with each other?"
"I remember," Kishibe replied.
"I'm going to be honest with you now," Quanxi said.
Quanxi's eyes seemed to lose focus, but she was there, and her mouth continued to speak the unvarnished truth. "I can't stand you," she said, almost absentmindedly. "I've worked with you for 19 years, and you've changed. You went from a recruit with vigor, a spark that, even though you were naive, you didn't let burn out. I remember you had some silly dream or idea; you said you joined the devil hunters to impress ladies and get paid, and I honestly thought you'd be gone within a week. But you surprised me. You kept going, even after Shibuya. You wanted to leave; you should have left, but you didn't. And I spent every day, up until about a year ago, wondering why. Then I finally understood. You don't live for yourself, Kishibe. You're just living because I live. That day when we killed the butterfly devil, I knew when you leaned in to light the cigarette that you weren't living for yourself. You were just trying to survive, just like me."
Quanxi looked away, the intensity of her emotions showing more in this conversation than it had in the past decade. "That night in Kyoto, I wasn't myself. I was just doing what my body told me to do. I let go, and I think on some level, I did it to give you closure." Her finger pointed toward Kishibe.
"You don't live for yourself, Kishibe. You live in a fantasy, thinking I'm just going to walk away from everything, so you and I can fight for scraps as civilian devil hunters for the rest of our lives. We both have contracts, and if we broke them, we'd be killed, or worse."
Quanxi stood up from the table, her frustration palpable. "I can't stand people like you. I think anyone who lets their emotions cloud their judgment like you do is just pathetic."
She moved toward the bar's exit, but Kishibe reached out and grabbed her sleeve, making her look back at him. Their eyes met in the mirror, and they both silently agreed on one thing, "Don't show him anything. It's for the best."
Kishibe locked eyes with Quanxi, his stoic expression unchanging, yet his eyes were a torrent of emotions. Every feeling, every positive thought he had ever harbored for her over their long history together seemed to flow through his gaze into her mind. Quanxi had known him for so long that she almost turned away in remorse for everything that had transpired between them, but she steeled herself and held her ground. She revealed nothing, keeping her emotions in check.
Kishibe exhaled audibly, and his breath hitched as he did so, releasing the pent-up tension between them.
His arms dropped to his sides "I have to bring you in." Was all he said
Quanxi swiftly drew the sword from her back, slashing downward. Kishibe seemed to produce a knife from thin air and deftly parried her attack, sending her blade crashing into a wooden table, shattering it into pieces. With the same mysterious sleight of hand, Kishibe drew another knife, holding it in his left hand.
Quanxi swiftly brought her blade up, aiming for his thigh, but Kishibe's blade intercepted her strike, sending sparks flying through the air. He momentarily blinded her with the metallic sparks, then his hand transformed into a clawed gauntlet, his body stiffening briefly as he invoked his contracts. The gauntlet slammed down onto Quanxi's throat, pinning her to the ground and creating a circular crater in the bar's wooden floor.
In response, the seasoned devil hunter sliced her sword in three directions, targeting the pressure points on the gauntlet and causing it to fall apart. Kishibe jumped back, holding his knives in each hand. Quanxi noted the peculiar nature of his claws and weapons, adjusting her stance accordingly.
Kishibe crossed his knives into an X shape, and the ground beneath Quanxi's back foot cracked when she lunged forward. Kishibe swung his arms three times in a massive pattern, causing sparks to shoot out in all directions, creating a dazzling spectacle in the bar's atmosphere.
As the intense battle raged on, Kishibe began to feel the strain of his new contracts wearing on him. The Needle Devil contract was worming its way into his psyche, and he sensed the stabbing pain of a thousand needles pressing against his spine in a phantom sensation. Adrenaline coursed through his body, hastening his movements. He began to discern Quanxi's spear-like form more clearly, reacting to her attacks with inhuman speed.
Kishibe managed to block an attack, and a powerful vibration shot up his upper arm. His extraordinary reflexes kicked in, and he tensed every muscle in his body to resist the impact. He hurled a knife through the air, and he heard the satisfying sound of its tip striking something.
The impacts ceased, and Kishibe quickly re-armed himself. Quanxi stood before him, her eyes locked onto a deep cut in her right arm, staining her blue suit jacket a deep red. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breathing grew more pronounced.
Kishibe tried to suppress his emotions and launched himself at her. Quanxi raised her sword, expecting a slash. Instead, she was sent hurtling into a wall as Kishibe executed a shoulder charge, impaling himself on her blade in the process. His blood pooled in her hands, and she attempted to push him off. His entire weight bore down on her, and his shoulder slumped as his eyes began to lose focus. Leaning forward, he seemed to be on the verge of losing consciousness.
Quanxi's senses were flooded with the warm, familiar sensation of her partner's lips on hers. It was as though a dam had burst, and her emotions came rushing back. However, her eyes remained hazed, and she felt like she was behind a window, observing her instincts take control. Her expression remained oddly deadpan.
In a swift, unexpected move, she punched Kishibe in the stomach, twisting the blade as she did so. This sent him tumbling back, and as she glanced over, she spotted that Kishibe had retrieved a knife. He held it in his hand, a deadly weapon that could easily end her life if he chose to press it into her heart.
A sharp pain hit her tongue as Kishibe fell to the ground, and an impulse to scold or lecture him for his failure welled up inside her. Yet, strangely, nothing came out of her mouth. Instead, she simply turned and walked toward the exit. The man, who had been momentarily blacked out, extended an arm as he propped himself up against a wall.
Quanxi cast one final glance at Kishibe, then reached for the envelope she had received from Chia-Hao. She took a piece of paper from the envelope and hurled the empty one at Kishibe before exiting the bar.
Kishibe read aloud the note addressed from Chia-Hao, which stated, "2 tickets for Beijing and accommodations have been prepared for you and your guest, Miss Quanxi. Documents are being prepared for your partner; we hope for both of you to be joining us soon." The realization struck him, and in a somber tone, he whispered, "She wanted me to go with her." Despite the pain, he chuckled, forcing more of his wounds to open. He continued to laugh, even as the medics and other devil hunters arrived.
But he never saw Quanxi again after that day.