The blue oni charged silently.

  Unlike the raging animal that was the red oni, this one moved like a calculating martial artist.

  He covered ground quickly.

  Marloes wasn’t surprised that such a large being could move faster than her.

  Big, strong muscles, supernaturally so, meant speed and quickness.

  Those that knew, knew.

  Only the laymen, those without firsthand experience, assumed large size always meant ponderous movement.

  Instead of wild swings and overhand smashes, the blue oni struck with tight, straight punches.

  The outworlder slipped under and closed the distance as he should’ve against an opponent that had nearly twice his height and a much, much longer reach.

  The blue oni kicked, sweeping a spray of water at the outworlder.

  Ice formed instantly, creating a barricade that the outworlder collided with.

  It barely slowed him.

  Shards scattered.

  A blur of punches landed on the blue oni’s massive member and chiseled gut.

  He howled, instinctively covering up, which left him open to a rising uppercut that sent teeth flying and his lower tusks slicing through his upper lip.

  “They’re both in ouch city!”

  A lightning bolt shrieked down from the black sky.

  It vaporized rain and scorched the air.

  Night became day again for a split-second as it punched the blue oni in the back and drove him down the street and through yet another building.

  Empty cafes.

  Inoperable, but owned and maintained by the government to prevent them from becoming monster spawn zones.

  Tokyo had gone from a city of many millions to one of tens of thousands.

  The truth was that the vast majority of the once vibrant metropolis was a ghost town

  The best they could do was to keep that metaphorical rather than literal.

  They followed at a safe distance as the outworlder sprinted after the blue oni at speeds that no car could match.

  It was both prudence and necessity.

  The green-masked tanuki with the ring couldn’t fly them as fast in his bubble without the others to help lift and push.

  When they caught up, the two were slugging it out in the ruins of a street corner conbini.

  The blue oni— was no longer blue— rather he was that swirling ocean of blue and red.

  The twin colors writhed like the currents or those snake mating balls she had seen once from a distance… disgusting…

  “Hey, Sparkle-sama, do you think oni-san is trying to reach his final form?” Dashing Bandit Celebration mused. “Like a fusion. Blue plus red makes…”

  “Purple.”

  “Hmm, red one is hot, blue one is cold… purple one is… room temperature? That doesn’t sound right. Hmmmm, well, no matter whatever, I’m sure it’ll be cool and exciting!”

  As if hearing her words, the red and blue oni suddenly swelled in size.

  Muscles bulged, stretching the swirling skin to the splitting point.

  He already towered over the tall outworlder, now he could see over the conbini’s roof.

  Despite the size, he lost none of his quickness.

  An explosion of physical power shot him toward the outworlder, who had leapt away, carried by the winds to another rooftop a good distance away.

  The oni caught him by surprise.

  A fist the size of his chest punched him into the black sky with a crack that made the mother of all bombs sound like a firecracker.

  Marloes’ HUD tracked him.

  “Fast,” she murmured. “Very fast.”

  A thought struck her.

  Like she had trained, she reacted.

  She could still see the outworlder thanks to her helmet, which meant she could put her bullets on him.

  Thus, she pounded the outworlder with a steady stream of explosive shells until she could no longer see him.

  He had tried to use the winds, but she had overwhelmed him.

  The winds might’ve been blowing at 200 KMH, but her shells were firing at the speed of sound.

  “Oni-san fell there.” Dashing Bandit Celebration pointed at the large hole in the building.

  Marloes consulted her minimap.

  “Empty, but maintained by the government.”

  “So, it’s truly empty. No monster surprise. He’s being very quiet in there. Do we go see if he’s okay…”

  “Why would we?”

  Marloes figured the best course of action was distance. The oni had fought the outworlder and had conspicuously ignored or avoided her and the others and she vaguely remembered him saying something earlier. She was a bit foggy on account of the concussion as her HUD so helpfully advised her about via the tiny blinking warning in one corner. She scanned.

  “Ah, I see.”

  The oni appeared to be a lot smaller and a lot colder than the red one had been, but a lot warmer than the blue one had been.

  The readings indicated an average human lay in the building.

  She had Dashing Bandit Celebration direct the tanuki to take them to the oni-human.

  He lay amid broken desks and chairs. Shards of glass were tangled in his black hair. Naked.

  “Do you have extra pants?”

  “They won’t fit him,” Dashing Bandit Celebration said. “Bigger booty than mine and thighs and calves. Generally bigger overall. Do you think his—”

  “No! No, I don’t think! When was the last time you got laid?”

  Dashing Bandit Celebration shrugged. “I dunno, like, two weeks, maybe?”

  Marloes’ last time had been considerable longer.

  Her lifestyle didn’t leave much time or desire to date or even just have a casual hookup or two.

  Granted, that was her own doing.

  Cal gave them plenty of personal time to do with as they pleased.

  Truth be told, she simply had high standards for potential partners.

  Mountain level high.

  She gently shoved her boot underneath the naked man’s right shoulder and kicked him over… gently.

  “Hey! It’s Ramen-sama! Hey, did you know he had oni powers or is it a class. Quick! Appraise him! I don’t have an appraisal Skill.”

  Marloes tried.

  “Either he doesn’t have a class or it’s too high level for me.”

  Dashing Bandit Celebration gaped up at her like she had grown a second head.

  “That’d mean his class is power level over 60! No, wait! 70? 80?”

  In theory, at her level, Marloes would at least get something regardless of a hypothetical level difference.

  Then again, said information had come from a not-elf from another world and Cal might’ve trusted her, but Marloes certainly didn’t.

  “Hold on.” Marloes nudged the naked man’s leg with her boot. “Yup, real. Ramen guy was missing a leg. This guy has both.”

  “Wait!” Dashing Bandit Celebration goggled up at her again. “He was missing a leg? No way! I would’ve remembered that. Hmmm…” She tapped the bottom of her helmet. “He was always wearing pants whenever I bought ramen from him. Did I buy in the summer? No, I don’t think so. His ramen is for the winter.”

  Marloes shrugged.

  “He moved like he had a prosthetic and not one of the cyber ones. There was noticeable limp and hitch. He tried to hide it by not moving around too much when he served customers.”

  “Well… it’s definitely Ramen-san. I never forget a face.” Dashing Bandit Celebration’s eyes roved down and up the naked ramen chef. “What do we do with him? Outworlder-chan might already be on his way back.”

  Marloes had done the calculations, well, her armor’s systems had.

  They had a lot of time assuming he could only fly as fast as his wind carried him.

  “Please grab me that curtain.” She pointed to the office window.

  On the one hand, ramen guy was a potential oni threat.

  On the other hand, she didn’t want the government and the JSDF to get their hands on him.

  To be jailed and only let out to fight the worst things, like they forced on Tezuka-sama, wasn’t the way.

  On the third hand, did she want to be responsible for this one?

  She decided to hide him and drop him on Cal’s lap when she could.

  He would be quite the powerful asset if he could be taught control.

  And he should have a choice.

  As a human being.

  Not a monster or a weapon.

  Orulon flew on cold winds.

  Fast like a missile.

  Such was the strength of the blow that had launched him into the black sky lashed by angry winds and split by angrier lightning.

  The storm, his storm, responded to his thoughts, yet he couldn’t quite grasp them to bring them back under his conscious control.

  Night became day.

  The sudden shift would’ve been jarring had he not been just a bit fuzzy in the head.

  Concussion?

  Felt like one.

  Breaths came with stabbing pains.

  Ribs shifted and moved.

  He poked.

  Yup.

  Multiple pieces shifted underneath his skin.

  Pain shot up, but it was all manageable.

  He was unlike normal people.

  The heights of their limits were his floor.

  No.

  That wasn’t right.

  Their heights were closer to the deepest parts of the deepest mines where the environment got a bit molten.

  Not that his heights had served him well.

  He thought of the intelligence from the demigod.

  Harsh words needed to be had.

  There had been no mention of a combatant on his level of power.

  The red and blue transformer had hit him as hard as he had ever been hit before.

  The Earth woman’s explosive shells had been almost an afterthought in the aftermath.

  A slight tickle. An added insult. A punch in the back from that one cowardly friend that only jumped in when the fight had already started.

  The shot had helped speed his flight despite the winds efforts to keep him there.

  Orulon had decided to just go with the flow after a few minutes vainly struggling to regain concentration.

  Time to think.

  Time to heal.

  He went through the hazy mental checklist.

  Bruises, contusions, minor cuts and such would be gone in minutes.

  Concussion would be gone within hours.

  The broken ribs?

  Days from the feel of them.

  Multiple fractures and splintering took longer than, say, a single, clean break.

  He pondered the Quest as the minutes of his flight continued.

  Partial success.

  Good damage done to buildings, infrastructure and people.

  The thought of the latter brought on a twinge in his gut that hadn’t been completely eradicated by his training and studies.

  He wasn’t a true, full-time combatant battling other thinking beings on a regular basis.

  Familiarity bred contempt and those people eventually became inured to the taking of life.

  He supposed he should’ve been happy that he wasn’t.

  Killing monsters was fine.

  He gave them no second thought.

  The Earth humans in that building?

  Their deaths would stay with him.

  To be clear, their leaders and soldiers?

  A slight twinge of guilt at taking away everything they had been and ever will be. But, only a slight one.

  Like him they knew what they had signed up for in taking up those roles.

  To kill another. To order the killing of another.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Well… that meant one couldn’t begrudge being killed in turn.

  It was a poor leader and soldier that took offense at an enemy attempting to deprive them of life.

  A blade cut both ways.

  A bomb blew everyone up.

  But civilians?

  How much choice did they have in any of it?

  Children?

  They had none.

  The spires cared for none of that.

  All of them where just points in a Quest.

  Partial success?

  Partial failure.

  No difference.

  Orulon calculated.

  He could push through.

  Return and attempt to finish the fight.

  But, the red and blue one hadn’t looked that injured.

  At that point he weighed his life against that partial failure.

  The loss of which turned it into complete failure.

  The decision made itself.

  At least that’s what he told himself.

  It was easier that way.

  He wasn’t a true warrior.

  Yes, he fought and killed, but that wasn’t what he spent the majority of his time doing.

  He directed storms away from populations, he called rain down on drought and fires, he calmed the seas and sent floods were they did good rather than harm.

  In short, he saved lives.

  “Adjutant Pavoron?”

  It took a moment for the answer to sing from the tiny crystal in his ear.

  “Yes, Benedine. I am here for you.”

  There was a song-like cadence to the delivery.

  Ah, the Akuthan must’ve been engaged in combat with the enemy skyship.

  “How goes the battle?”

  He really didn’t want to have to come to the aid of the ranmerbalaen ship. Although, he couldn’t see them having difficulties against a primitive world’s ugly, metal skyship. They had fought and destroyed hundreds of different varieties of warships over the centuries. Ones that flew the sky, cruised the ocean or swam in the deep.

  “Within projections. The captain has decided caution over expedience. She thinks it is a good opportunity to learn everything we can about this world’s warships rather than aim for a fast victory and quick sinking.”

  “Wise.”

  “How may I serve you?”

  “My report on the Quest.”

  He relayed what had occurred, sparing words and details in favor of expediency.

  The adjutant singer remained silent, undoubtedly focused on recording.

  “I and the spires consider it a partial… success. I was unable to get all of their military leaders. You can see in the Quest notification which ones remain.”

  “Yes, and I see that the secret daggers have eliminated thirty-two percent of the civilian leadership.”

  “In light of the unexpected, powerful resistance, I conclude this Quest. Please instruct Commander Richeslaer to begin withdrawal operations. I shall await them at the extraction point.”

  He needed the Akuthan’s powerful communications system to punch through the interference in the storm. Once he was at the extraction point he could rely on short-range communications to coordinate with the secret dagger team.

  “Could we not complete the Quest in it’s entirety once we defeat the enemy skyship?” Pavoron hesitated. “I mean— that is to say— er, respectfully, honored one… surely with the Akuthan’s might we can eliminate all the key targets and subjugate the civilian populace. They would have no other choice… right?”

  “The plan does not authorize complete subjugation and intentional attacks on the civilian population. We’re here to disrupt and destabilize in order to create favorable negotiations for territory. We don’t want to start a full war with this world’s mightiest powers. Taking an entire nation would be a good way to start one. They would have no choice but to respond in kind. Bitter fruit though it may be, it is easier to swallow the loss of a bit of land through a treaty. It’s preferable to eventually forge alliances with natives against the worst of our enemies out there. Better to fight the battles on this Terminus World than our worlds. At least that is what I’ve been instructed to abide by.”

  “Understood, Benedine. My sincere apology for over-stepping by station.”

  Orulon shrugged, though the young adjutant singer probably wasn’t watching him.

  “Don’t apologize for asking questions. Many of my teachers have said the only stupid question is the one unasked.”

  He butchered that one. Couldn’t quite remember the exact phrases they had used.

  “Your wisdom enlightens me, honored one. I shall inform the captain and relay your orders to Commander Richeslaer. Pavoron out!”

  “Luck in battle.”

  He scanned the skies, straining his vision, but couldn’t find any signs of said battle.

  He suspected they must’ve been in his storm.

  The black clouds spanned many kilometers in both the vertical and horizontal planes.

  Plenty of space for two dueling warships to maneuver.

  The mighty winds meant nothing to the Akuthan and judging by the enemy skyship’s size, it wouldn’t have issues either.

  His thoughts flowed naturally to different scenarios.

  In the even of an unlikely defeat, he would gather the secret dagger team, leave them in hiding while he searched for the Akuthan’s survivors. Once he had collected all the living he would take them to the spire of their arrival and they’d go home.

  Partial success to total failure in an instant.

  Losing the Akuthan was even worse than losing him.

  Orulon stared at the black speck on the horizon. He sighed as he told the wind to bring him back.

  Several Days Later

  Or had it been a week? Two?

  Time had been hazy for Hiroki in the immediate aftermath of his whole… thing.

  He remember a little.

  Snatches of a dream or was it nightmare?

  Images, sensations, scents, emotions and everything else.

  It didn’t really matter what as far as he was concerned since he couldn’t hold them for long. It was like trying pick up sand with splayed fingers as the waves rolled in violently.

  What he didn’t feel was bad.

  Body was good.

  Better than he would’ve thought after being crushed to death by the emergency bunker’s ceiling.

  That he remembered vividly.

  It was everything after and up to waking up in the penthouse that were so much sand.

  What didn’t help was that the absence and silence from the owner of the penthouse, well, he assumed she was the owner.

  She did have a key, although, from his looking around in his boredom, he could unequivocally say that the place seemed devoid of anything that even hinted at a personal touch.

  Plain sheets on the beds in the rooms with beds instead of tatami and futon, which was weird to him. Western and Japanese style. Plain cutlery, plates and glasses. Not a single picture or decoration that wasn’t a plant. He did note that some of the plants looked overgrown and there had been areas that were covered in a fine layer of dust.

  Thus, he concluded that the penthouse wasn’t regularly occupied.

  So, like, a safe house? Or a secret base for the mahou shoujo?

  Kitagawa-sama.

  He mentally reminded himself since he definitely should never, upon pain of life, refer to her as Super Happy Sparkle-sama, Sparkle-sama or any combination, variation of such. Nor should he call her .50 Caliber-chan.

  If the penthouse belonged to her, then she must’ve actually lived elsewhere.

  It was surprising to him.

  The place was prime real estate.

  Since it occupied what appeared to be the entire level of the building it had unobstructed views in every direction.

  He could see the bay, the Imperial Palace, or at least the general area around the actual palace. There were trees in the way, probably. The Meiji Shrine was also there in the distance. Also tree-obstructed.

  A lot of trees out there.

  More than he would’ve thought.

  Indolence breeds weak will and body.

  Go fight something, you pussy!

  Oh… that was another thing that had changed for him.

  Or rather he had changed for himself.

  About the only thing he remembered vividly was the contact and the contract with the two not-oni.

  Their voices were in his head, though usually vague and distant.

  Just like they had promised and had placed in said contract.

  You don’t shoot your load periodically and promise or no promise, you’re going a-raging!

  Exertion is necessary to maintain balance. Balance is necessary in all things. Especially, in you.

  “Yes, yes… I’ll get right on that. Once I figure out how to leave this place without Kitagawa-sama getting mad at me.”

  Weak woman. Establish dominance. Show her your might. You are the strongest!

  He thought he could hear vague roaring, snarling and smashing sounds.

  He sighed.

  It was a lot worse than that one time he had tinnitus in both ears after getting too close to a frag grenade. That had been a rough few weeks until he had scraped enough Universal Points and yen to pay for a complete healing.

  He walked around the penthouse.

  There was a nice gym and plenty of food and drink in the fridge.

  Entertainment options in the form of several really old gaming machines, a library of books and a huge flat screen with an immense number of movies and shows somehow already loaded inside.

  It was so far beyond what he had in his tiny home that it felt like a different world. Like he had stepped from the primitive past into the advanced future.

  Still, he couldn’t enjoy any of it.

  Not with the judgmental voices in the back of his head.

  He found himself in the balcony.

  It was large enough to have a cooking area with seating for several people, a small pool and more plants.

  And no one lives here! he thought.

  “This is so weird.”

  He eyed the cooking area.

  A quick glance told him that it had everything he needed to make ramen.

  Perhaps, not the exact kind he specialized in, but he’d have to check the cabinets inside the kitchen to know for sure what ingredients were stocked.

  Yeah.

  He doubted they had what he needed for his specialty. Or at least all of it. And if he didn’t have it all, then what was the point of making it? It’d just be incomplete and therefore wrong.

  Spirits temporarily raised, sank once again.

  The sky was clear.

  The sun was warm, but the wind was cold this high up.

  He was dressed in shorts and a shirt.

  Not his normal attire on account of the leg issue—

  He almost forget.

  His leg was back.

  He stared at it.

  Touched it, poking, prodding, pinching.

  “Real…”

  He did that a lot.

  The forgetting, then the disbelief, then near euphoric happiness, then paranoia.

  Was this entire thing a dream?

  Was he, even now, laying crushed under rubble?

  The last moments of his life stretched out in some kind of cruel trick?

  An oni’s trick?

  This again?

  Reality is observed. Without observation, who is to say what is reality? Let your own senses determine truth as you perceive it. Control what you can. Then work to exert control over what you currently do not hold. Consign the uncontrollable to the irrelevance in which it belongs.

  Go fight something, baby! That’s all you need to feel better and stop being a moping baby! Or listen to this asshole talk in circles.

  Hiroki walked back into the penthouse and headed for the gym.

  Lifting weights helped in the sense that it made him feel slightly better from the release of endorphins. He had been told that once.

  And it was satisfying to his ego to lift a bar loaded with every plate he could pack on it.

  No strain, no struggle.

  As he lifted the bar and put in down repeatedly, he slowly lost his good mood again.

  There was no point if it was easy, was there?

  Weight thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing.

  He hesitated.

  The number looked weird.

  So did his phone for that matter.

  Wait? What? he thought.

  Okay.

  Now that he had noticed.

  It wasn’t his phone.

  It was a lot thinner and sleeker.

  More glass than anything else. There was a very thin border around the edges like a picture frame made out of matte gray metal.

  It took him a moment to realize that, somehow, he knew how to operate it.

  Thus, he tapped on the answer button.

  “Finally… dude, I’ve been calling. You better not have oni’d out and gone on a smashpage. That’d be a bitch to hide from your government.”

  “Um… hello?”

  “Alright, we’re not doing this over the phone. I just wanted to give you the head’s up that I’m dropping by. Got stuff to talk with you about and I don’t want to trigger you. Last thing I want is to traumatize you even more than you’ve already been. Alright? So, keep calm. I’m not going to hurt you. Ignore the voices in your head telling you to fight me. Just going to talk and I’ll leave you alone so you can make your decision. Alright? Got it?”

  “Uh…”

  “Just say you understand.”

  “I, um, understand?”

  “Good enough.”

  A loud boom shook the skies outside.

  Confused, Hiroki didn’t know what to do besides leave the gym.

  The man said he was dropping by, so, Hiroki went toward the front door only to see a man standing on the balcony.

  As first impressions went, Hiroki felt the sudden and violent urge to attack.

  He reined it in with supreme effort.

  His fear of what Kitagawa-sama would do to him if he ruined her super expensive and fancy penthouse did much of the heavy lifting.

  The man walked in.

  “Nice job,” he grinned. “Controlled the urge to attack, huh?”

  “I, uh, yes, er, I’m sorry, welcome?” It wasn’t his home, but the words had slipped his lips and like a fired bullet, he couldn’t pull them back. “How may I help you?”

  The stranger held a helmet in one hand. It looked like the one Kitagawa-sama had. He radiated warmth despite the cold November air blowing through the open balcony door. He wasn’t dressed for the temperature either. Just dark blue jeans and a light blue shirt with a symbol on the chest that seemed familiar.

  Hiroki thought he must’ve seen the white star set inside a series of red and white concentric somewhere recently.

  Black hair, brown skin, white teeth.

  The smile seemed genuine since it reached the stranger’s eyes.

  Foreigner.

  That was obvious, but Hiroki didn’t know from where.

  He knew there were other countries, but they and the people that still lived there seemed so far away they might as well have been on a different planet.

  The old timers had always told stories about airplanes flying to and from Japan.

  Something about the damn tourists being too loud and filming themselves being disrespectful.

  It sounded nice to be able to go to another country.

  “Wait—” Hiroki pointed to the balcony. “How did you…”

  The stranger shrugged.

  “Flew. So, doing good? Feel like oni-ing out?”

  Hiroki’s eyes widened.

  The stranger knew!

  Instant wariness and fear surged through him.

  Blazing heat and frigid cold warred in his chest, radiating to and from his extremities.

  “Relax, kid.” The stranger sighed. “I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m just here to touch base and deliver some info.” He pulled out a weird phone, identical to the one Hiroki now, apparently, owned, from his pocket and tapped his fingers. “There. Sent you the welcome packet. Information on your new, genetically-altered condition as those smarter than me have been able to research and study… so far. I strongly recommend you study everything like your life depends on it. Cause it does. My brother included a message and he’ll be your primary contact for this.” He sighed again. “For however long he’s around. Meanwhile, it’s probably best that you stay inside.” He turned to leave.

  “But… what if I can’t?” Hiroki didn’t want to inform him that there might be a need to transform and fight stuff.

  “What? Your need to smash stuff? Calculations say you should be good for a few weeks. Probably longer if you’ve got the willpower. Do you have willpower?”

  He almost answered indignantly, but thought better of it.

  He realized that he wasn’t sure.

  “Wise, kid.” The stranger placed his helmet on the couch and gestured for Hiroki to take a seat. “I guess I can give you a few minutes. So, concerns? Questions?”

  “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Listen, literally, the answers to every question you can think of are in the info packet. My brother is a thorough man. He’d be here himself to walk you through this, but, well, there’s been a family tragedy.”

  “I’m sorry. My condolences.”

  The stranger waved it away. “My nephew’s dead. Took out that piss-leaking demigod one on one.” This time the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Some would say it’s a good trade. A guy in his twenties taking out a thousand year old shit on his own.”

  From the tone, Hiroki understood that the stranger didn’t agree with that assessment.

  “Things are a mess everywhere. Worldwide wars. Every outworld butthole decided to start flinging all their shit at the same time. Obviously, it was coordinated for when I was otherwise occupied.”

  “Um… you should… go?”

  “It’s fine. I can give you a few minutes, like I said. It’s important to be heard, you know. We’re all people, therefore we’re all special in our own ways. Except, shits. They’re special in a shitty way, ergo, they don’t have to be heard.” The stranger ran a hand through his wavy black hair. “Okay, I’ll try to summarize the info you need to stop from freaking out and going red or blue. Basically, you can decide what you want to do with your life moving forward. Go throw yourself at your government and the JSDF? Sure. Go independent? Also sure. I wouldn’t recommend either though. You’re too strong for them to control without you allowing it, which paradoxically means they won’t be able to leave you alone. They’ll force oaths and contracts, but you’ll be able to break them.”

  “But, what else can I do? I accepted the contract with the oni-sans to help my people.”

  “You can still do that. Talk to Marloes next time she checks in on you. She’ll try to recruit you, but I suggest you don’t decide right away. Got to have all the information and have a clear mind before you make big decisions.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “Third option is you do none of that. Go back to your ramen stand. I hear you’re quite good.”

  “But, the, um, oni inside…”

  “We can easily arrange a way to work that energy off without you having to go all in on the life of violent Quests. Trust me, if things were different for me I wouldn’t mind doing something else besides always flying around killing monsters and fighting shit people. It gets tiring. I mean, dude, I just came from a battle in Africa and I have to go to a battle in Siberia. There are so many funerals I’d rather be— well, I’d rather there not be a funeral at all, you know?” He grimaced. “I’d just like time to mourn. My nephew— well, you know how it is. Holes in our hearts never get filled.”

  Hiroki instantly thought of his parents.

  “It’s been a while, but, yes, that feels correct.”

  “Sorry, kid. Now, you’ve got a different kind of problem. One that means you’ll never be left alone again. People… and things… will want to kill you or control you. The one thing they’ll never give you is peace and quiet.” The stranger rose. “Listen, when we calm things down I’ll have more time for you. I can share some wisdom. Tell you who’s cool, who to avoid. That sort of thing. But I really have to go before that sinkhole gets too big.”

  Hiroki nodded, then called out after the stranger.

  “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  “Eron. I added my contact info. Reach out if you’ve got an emergency. Hell, if you need to oni-out I’ll be your sparring partner. I know a ton of empty places we can throw down without hurting anyone and anything besides monsters, which we will kill. That should be a good way to burn off some oni energy. Sound good?”

  “Thank you, Eron-san.”

  “Read that info packet. All of it. Front to back. A couple of times. It’s your best friend right now. Knowing my brother, there’ll be a test and he’ll definitely be judging you the whole time. No pressure. Oh, and if you do eventually decide to get that stand back in business, let me know. I do love a good bowl or five of ramen.”

  Hiroki watched Eron vanish into the bright sky with a loud boom that shook the building and rattled the windows.