01: dying's discordance

“Ah, Lieutenant, you wound me and praise me at the same time,” Sumanai chuckled. 

If the rumors were true, Ashton’s eyes had unnerved more than a few men. Weaker souls had withered under that gaze, and stronger soldiers took a fatal misstep. Such problems were absent when it came to Sumanai. He matched Ashton’s look with one of equal power, and countered the permanent smile with one just as cunning. If the lieutenant was perceptive, he was like to notice the tension building between the two. 

Then Sumanai nodded past Ashton. “Perhaps we should go into that teashop? I don’t think standing out in the streets is a good way to make friends, no?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Sumanai strode past the lieutenant, both hands hidden in his sleeves. A firework burst overhead, purple in color and taking the shape of a hollow mask split in two. Sumanai gave it a quick look before twisting his head towards Ashton. “The Seiryuu really went all out on today’s festival, didn’t they Lieutenant?” 

“Interesting question, Lieutenant,” Sumanai responded. He turned his head back to the teashop, knowing that Ashton was following. 

Ducking, he stepped into the low doorway and pushed past a veil of glittering beads. The smell of dragon fruit incense slapped him in the face hard, though Sumanai did not mind. It set the atmosphere perfectly for the scene he had began. The dim lights of the teashop added to this, as did the candles that illuminated tables hidden away by shadow-filled alcoves. 

“I’d answer that question, Lieutenant, if it wasn’t so transparent. If you want to know why I asked you into this tea shop, you need only ask.” 

With that, Sumanai picked a table, sunk to his knees on one side, and picked up a pair of chopsticks. The waitress was no where to be seen, and there were no patrons in the shop. With how quiet the lights were, it was almost impossible to see past the confines of their small table. 

“I heard that you just got back from special mission, Lieutenant,” Sumanai began. He reached with his free hand into his robes and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Ashton before laying it down at the end of the table. “I was hoping to hear of some legendary exploits. I’m writing a book, you see.” 

“If you step out of that doorway, Lieutenant, Reisha will be dead within the hour,” Sumanai spoke. His tone was polite, jovial even. It was unsuited for the threat he had issued. “Please, sit back down and order some tea. The festival is not ready for you again yet.” 

A scream pierced the air then. Reisha’s scream, if Ashton was attentive. Where it came from was impossible to discern, but it almost seemed to radiate from within the darkness Sumanai cloaked himself in. With a snap of his fingers he lit the cigarette in between his lips, and with his chopsticks he picked up Ashton’s pair. 

“It’d be better for both of us if you sat down and didn’t make me stand, too. So take these chopsticks and tell me about your venture, Lieutenant. It’ll be better for the both of us.” 

Ashton had been provided a choice now. See his loved ones die or humor the man. There was a third option too, but Sumanai hoped he would not pick the path that lead to violence. At least, not yet. 

Like a mouse, Ashton was baited in by the bait that was Reisha’s fake scream. “My trap card, Lieutenant? Why, I think you believe me to be more desperate then I really am.” 

Sumanai placed Ashton’s chopsticks in front of him and leaned back. The smell of dragon fruit grew louder and the shadows darker. A soft rapping of sandal on wood filled the air as Sumanai artfully ignored Ashton’s question, and from the darkness stepped a woman in all black. 

“What will you have today, gentlemen?” Her voice was soft, like a girl’s. She had no spiritual power of note. 

“Green tea with extra ginseng please.” 

“We are out of green tea, sir.” 

Sumanai sighed and cupped his chin in his free hand. He looked from the waitress to Ashton, his smile still present. “You order, Lieutenant. If you foot the bill, I’ll even answer one of your questions.” 

The wench grimaced as Ashton’s last comment and walked off into the gloom of the tea shop. The Nanabantai-Fukutaichou had decided to wear his gangster face today. Sumanai hoped to see a different side. 

“I was reading a story, actually. It was about a man and the sea and a jaguar, if I recall correctly. Since you’ve asked me the same question twice now, I am hoping I won’t bore you when I tell it. It is rather lengthy.” Sumanai paused when the tea came. The waitress bowed once and hurried off, this time towards the door of the teashop. 

The tea was cold, as Sumanai discovered, but he took a sip regardless. Notably it was Oolong, not Sobacha. 

“The story goes something like this. A man walks along a beach when he sees the tide begin to crawl away. In awe he stands there, thinking that what he is seeing is simply another beautiful display of nature put on for his pleasure. It is then he sees something glistening on the horizon. He stands there, oblivious to any possible danger, and watches with great intent as the glistening thing grows bigger. 

“As it turns out, this glistening thing is a wave. A tsunami. Suddenly fear strikes him, but it is a different fear then he can ever recall feeling. No, to call it fear is simply wrong. You see, this man is an established hunter. He still remembers one night in the jungles where he saw a pair of flashing lights staring at him from the underbrush. They were the eyes of a jaguar, and he is afraid. Very afraid. But he readies his gun and takes aim regardless. 

“The man is not afraid of the beast. The beast, to him, is nature. He looks to his side and sees a squirrel, but the squirrel is oddly calm. You see, the squirrel has not forgotten that he is a beast. Beasts understand nature, and they know at any moment they can die. They do not live under the false pretext that they have conquered nature in all forms, as the man was just moments prior. 

“The sight of the tsunami reminds the man that no human has ever conquered nature. That their buildings are just stone and wood, and that they are merely borrowing from the Earth that they live on. That at a moment’s notice a sea as small as the Atlantic can rise up and smash them right back down. That even the sun, the lowliest of all stars, could burn their planet to a crisp on but a single whim.” 

Sumanai sat back, eased his aching throat with a swallow of cold tea, and put his cup back down gently. A light flickered on in the back of the teashop, illuminating some of the booths. Sitting in them were shinigami, covered in dried blood. Their lack of spiritual power was a telltale sign that they were dead. 

“Shinigami have suffered from the same affliction.” Another light came on, revealing more dead shinigami sitting at booths. “They believe they have conquered not only the material world, but the spiritual one as well.” And a third light, right behind Ashton and Sumanai’s booth. The corpses sitting there were fresh and still bleeding. “They believe themselves buddhas. They are not buddhas.” 

A final light fell on the pair. The booth on the opposite end of the hallway was still mysteriously bathed in a shadow brimming with spiritual power. It slinked away, crawling along the floor, peeling away from the recently dead corpses of a man and woman. 

Sumanai jammed both of his chopsticks into the table so that they stood erect. “Have you ever seen a genocide, Lieutenant?” 

Sumanai threw his head back and barked out a laugh at Ashton’s response. “Yes, Lieutenant, that answer is perfect.” 

Sumanai’s hands cupped the underside of the table. In his left sleeve, he felt the dumpling stick from earlier. “But alas, Lieutenant Arterius, you have made a grave mistake. You see, a wolf in sheep’s clothing forgets it has fangs after a while. 

“And your fangs are long since gone.” 

---

 

“God damn I’m drunk!” Tia coughed out. She stumbled through the festivities, bumped into a food cart, and then fell into an alleyway. Her uniform was soiled, the result of her idiotically drinking on duty. She had been ordered to be on the look out for ruffians, but instead she was becoming one herself. 

With a sigh, she rolled over and used her hands to prop herself up. After a few minutes, Tia knew, she’d be ready to get up. After all, she had drunk enough men under the table not to let a few dozen more knock her down. 

A man stepped into the alleyway before her. His robes, flashy green and designed with golden flowers, said that he was another shinigami participating in the festival. Oddly enough, she couldn’t recognize his face. 

“Who’re you?” Tia burped. 

“Are you from the Rukongai?” 

Tia cocked her head. For some reason, this man’s voice was almost as weird as his question. “Rukongai? Nah, I’m fro--” 

The soul’s sword sunk into her forehead. The small crowd of people walking by saw the murder andscreamed. When they turned away more party patrons drew swords from their robes and killed them too. Food sellers exposed more weapons from underneath their carts, shinigami on duty sliced their zanpakutou through the unsuspecting, and brother turned on brother as a wave of mania swept through the festival. 

---

 

“Do you hear that, Lieutenant?” Sumanai asked. The screams were growing louder and louder. He smiled and leaned forward. “The real party is just beginning!” 

Sumanai flipped the table over, shot up to his feet, and then kicked it as hard as he could into Ashton’s face. In his left hand was the thin stick from the dumplings he had earlier, an impromptu murder tool if there ever was one. “What say you, Lieutenant? Ready to join the party?!”