— Oh, for heaven's sake, leave me alone already! I'm telling you for the twelfth time: I went away on business. My own personal, private business. And it concerns no one else.
— All right then, but why didn't you come back by the start of the school term?
This happened during vacation, by the way. And I had somehow managed to miss the first two days of classes.
What a persistent type! What did he even want? Then again, that part was obvious enough: he wanted to know where I had been. But I had no need of that.
— For the seventh time, Akeno-san, I'm telling you: I got sick. I spent three days down with a fever, and as soon as I was able, I came back.
Meanwhile, Kagami was rustling about in the kitchen, not interfering in the "men's" conversation. All she did, once she got a good look at me in the entryway, was run a stern gaze over me, touch my forehead, and head for the kitchen without a word. Apparently my forced starvation and generally awful appearance had not escaped her notice. And now, after half an hour of interrogation, I was catching amazing smells from the kitchen.
— And who took care of you all that time?
— The people I went to visit.
— And who, exactly, did you go to visit? — Shina's father began a new round.
Oh, how badly I wanted to be sarcastic.
— That is my private business, and I'm not going to let anyone in on it.
Akeno looked at me sternly. He drew in breath to continue the interrogation, but after holding it for a moment, exhaled and said:
— Fine. We'll leave that for now. At this rate you're going to drown in your own drool. Kagami, how's lunch coming? — he asked, raising his voice.
So, I'd beaten him back. And, by the way, the elder Koyamas never returned to that subject, apparently deciding that even a little brat like me could have his own secrets.
But if you think the story ended there, you are deeply mistaken. Oddly enough, it was only just beginning.
At the end of the week, having eaten my fill, slept properly, shown my face at school, and calmed the Koyama family, I went to deliver the documents. And when I received my payment and was already about to leave, the intermediary stopped me.
— Wait, Dwarf, I've got something for you. — The plump, gray, forgettable shopkeeper looked at me slyly.
To which I wrote in my little notebook: "Any business a month from now, no earlier."
— That's for you to decide. Actually, it's about something else. — That piqued my curiosity, and I nodded for him to continue. — Just yesterday, our guild was contacted and asked to arrange a meeting with you.
"With me?"
— Not with you personally, but with the one who stole the documents.
What a stubborn woman! I was sure it was Akemi, so I shook my head negatively and turned to leave. Who does she take me for, an idiot?
— Wait, Dwarf! — the intermediary said a little louder.
What now? Fine, damn you, I'll listen, I thought, turning back and signaling the fat man to continue.
— Understand, Dwarf, this meeting will take place under the patronage of the intermediaries' guild. Absolutely nothing threatens you. You'll come, listen to what they have to say, and leave. Maybe they'll offer you something profitable. Or maybe you'll settle your problems without bloodshed.
Under the guild's patronage, huh? Maybe that's the way out. I really don't want to live constantly looking over my shoulder.
And so I wrote in my little notebook: "Where and when?"
Mmm, yes, Tokyo in this world really is very similar to the Tokyo of my own. More or less that was what I was thinking as I sat in a family café on Omotesando Street, in the Shibuya district. Just like in my world, that street stretched from Omotesando subway station to Meiji-jingu-mae station. And it would have been just as faceless as most others if not for one "but." This street led to Meiji Shrine — the largest Shinto shrine in Tokyo. And in this world, Emperor Meiji is one of the most popular figures in Japan. His history diverges radically from the history of my world. Not just his, in fact. The entire history of this Japan went differently thanks to that ruler. So it's no wonder the street here carries historical significance and is quite popular. And where there is popularity and crowds, there are always people eager to profit from it.
At that moment I was sitting in one of the countless local cafés, waiting for Nakata Akemi, who was in no hurry to arrive. She was already ten minutes late, and five minutes later I decided I was getting out of there.
Well, would you look at that, she made it. Damn long-legged hag.
Entering the café and sweeping the room with a quick glance, Akemi headed toward my table. Interestingly enough, I didn't see her thugs. Not that they couldn't be somewhere nearby, but they weren't visible. In the meantime, Akemi sat down at my table with elegant poise and fixed me with her green eyes.
— Well hello there, kiddo. Interesting place you chose for the meeting.
— There are no cameras here, and plenty of people wear masks. Unlike the place you chose. — Of course, switching straight to the familiar you was a bit rude. But who was she to me? Nobody. Almost an enemy.
— Hey, hey, show a little more respect to your elders. — Ah, if only you knew my psychological age, auntie. — You're not grown enough yet to talk to me in that tone.
— Tell that to my bruises. My shoulder still aches, — I lied without blinking.
— You should be grateful you're alive at all, runt, — she replied, turning serious in an instant.
— Already did.
— What?
— Already said thanks. I even showed my gratitude by buying your nimble little legs some excellent sneakers.
— Why you… Insolent brat! But insolence should have limits. I might get offended, you know. Whether I could do something to you or not is beside the point. Making yourself an enemy for no reason is just stupid.
— Agreed. Only, I stole from you, and you wanted to torture me. So we're not exactly comrades to begin with.
— But we could become them. And eventually friends.
— With a lady who tortures children? Don't make my slippers laugh.
At my words she only made a face. Yes, I knew she wouldn't have actually done it, she would surely have come up with something else. Who knows what methods she thought would be enough to scare a child. And that was exactly why I kept poking her with that episode. Let her feel ashamed one more time, and let her remember that sitting in front of her was an eleven-year-old boy. I was curious whether she'd smooth it over, apologize for that incident, or keep up appearances.
— Well, what can you do. I'm not like this — life is.
Heh. So, the latter after all.
At that moment a young waitress, maybe sixteen, came up to the table and placed my order in front of me. Ice cream in a glass bowl. Vanilla with chocolate crumbs. Yum-yu—ugh, listen to me. In my previous life I hadn't cared much for ice cream, nor in this one, really. But I ordered it once out of boredom and got into it. Ordered it again, and here I was getting into it even more. Hopefully it was just that the dessert here was excellent, and not that my juvenile body was demanding its due.
— Oh, Heavenly Consorts! A child. We're trying to have a serious conversation here, and he's busy stuffing himself with ice cream. — I looked up. Akemi was smiling at me, resting her chin on clasped hands. — So what's your name, anyway, boy?
That was such a transparent trap. She really didn't take me seriously at all.
— Are you mocking me? You are. Call me what everyone else does. Dwarf.
— Very well then… Dwarf, let's talk seriously after all. You stole something from me, and if the documents, as I suspect, are already gone, then the money will have to be returned.
I froze with the spoon halfway to my mouth. What a ridiculous demand. Maybe I should also tell her where I live? Damn, I couldn't even find the words. What a thing to blurt out.
— Funny joke, but let's talk business.
Now she froze. As for me, I lost all interest in the conversation. If they start trying to bend you right away, then in their eyes you're worth nothing. And with my age, changing that sort of attitude would be difficult. No, anything is possible, but did I need it? She hadn't even hinted at what I stood to gain, and I was already supposed to start dancing? No thanks. I hadn't even finished my ice cream yet.
— So far this story doesn't qualify as a joke. — Well, that was that. She didn't let it slide and didn't turn it into a joke. All that remained was to finish the ice cream and go home.
She went on talking for another five minutes. Five minutes and twelve seconds, to be exact. Exactly until I finished my ice cream, pushed the dish aside, and stood up. I wasn't really listening, but I understood one thing clearly: she hadn't said anything of substance.
— Goodbye. — Taking my mask from the table, I headed for the exit.
And stopped sharply when I felt the woman grab me by the arm. Forcing myself not to jerk away, I looked at her. I had almost gouged her eyes out. I don't know whether I could actually have done it, but I definitely had the urge. And I had a decent chance of succeeding — she clearly wasn't expecting anything like that.
— Let go.
— Sit down. — Pause. — Let's talk business.
— Why don't you go to a very specific four-digit address, woman? I've got things to do besides wasting time with you.
— Sit, — she said more softly this time. — I didn't come here to demand money from you. I really do have business with you.
And there I stood, just staring. At her. At her hand. Then at her again.
— Fine. Let's consider that I made a fool of myself with the money, — she said, slowly releasing my arm. — There was no money. Let's forget it.
And that after a five-minute monologue? You work rough, Akemi-san, very rough.
Sit down or not? That was the question. I decided to sit. I'd still have time to leave, and maybe she really did have something interesting to say.
— Let's talk business.
— One second. — I raised my hand to get the waitress's attention. — I hope that this time the conversation really will be about business.
— Do you know who ordered the documents? — Akemi began after the waitress had taken my order and walked away from our table.
— No, I don't. I worked through the intermediaries' guild, which you are no doubt aware of, and I did not go into such details.
— You never know. And do you know what kind of documents you stole?
— I don't. — A provocative question. I certainly could have peeked into the folder, and no one would ever have known. It was unlikely she would believe me no matter how I answered. — After you… discovered me, it stopped mattering to me what was inside. They would have hunted for me anyway. And like this… the less you know, the better you sleep.
— I understand your position, though I don't agree with it. What if there had been compromising material on someone? Surely you agree that hunting for a witness is not the same as hunting for some petty thief.
Damn, and she was right. How had I not thought of that? And I had thrown around all that swagger…
— Yeah… you're right, I admit it, — I said, leaning back in my chair. — But what's the point of talking about that now?
— You got lucky. There was nothing secret in that folder. Just documents granting ownership of the daycare center "Three Sakura Blossoms" and, more importantly, the land it stands on. Of course, it won't amount to full private ownership — which is no surprise given the attitude toward land in the Empire and beyond — but even what there is is very good. Besides, the daycare is located in a very favorable place for any guild. Though that part doesn't matter right now.
Guilds. In my world they'd have been called criminal clans. But here people are oddly reverent toward the word "clan." As for "yakuza," in all the time I had lived here I had never heard that word even once. By the way, "guild" is my own free translation. In Japanese, "guild" sounds like girudo. But that's not what they usually call themselves — most often they use the word sege-kumiai. And here's what's interesting: the groups are constantly fighting each other, or at least sabotaging one another, and yet they have common rules and a code of laws, thus forming a larger structure called Garagarahebi. Or, in Russian, "rattlesnake."
A cute waitress, this time maybe eighteen, smiling, placed another serving of ice cream in front of me. Strawberry. Mm…
— Orange juice, — Akemi ordered, and when the girl had stepped away from our table, she asked: — Do you love ice cream that much?
— Nope. I just don't eat it often.
— And how is it that… Ah, never mind. Let's get back to business.
— Excuse me, I really do apologize for interrupting. I don't want to be rude again, but how about you simply tell me right away what exactly you need from me. I don't quite understand why I need to know what kind of documents I stole from you. My profession is very straightforward — come in, take it, leave. What exactly I'm taking is not something I'm supposed to know. Besides, those documents in particular no longer matter to the matter at hand.
— They matter very much. I want you to steal them. This time for me.
Well, that was roughly what I had suspected. Though after Akemi's little prelude I had thought she wanted me to steal something else, but from my former client. Still, why not the same documents?
— Judging by what you've said, if he's not an idiot, he'll put such important papers straight into a state bank. Just to be safe. And then I'm out of the game. Not my level.
— If you had listened to the end, you'd know why that isn't the case. But now you'll just have to take my word for it. For the next two weeks, the papers will be in his house.
Ah, I had jumped too quickly. And she was right to put me in my place. For the job, I really didn't need those details, but my curiosity was gnawing at me. Fine. Clarify, then probably agree.
— Is there any other information relevant to the job that I need to know?
— Overall, you are sufficiently informed. There is a target, there is the place where the target is located, the approximate time the target will be there, and, of course, the fact that the target will be heavily guarded. Everything else is details you'll learn as part of the job, if you agree.
Short and to the point. About a job that promised to be difficult. More difficult than the previous one, discounting the accidental meeting with Akemi and her bruisers.
— You must promise that once the job is done, you'll have no more claims against me.
— I promise.
— In that case, let's discuss payment.
What can I say — she named a price twice as high as the previous one. Though, since I was taking a risk without inspecting the place in advance, I had to negotiate the right to refuse the job after seeing the site. Without consequences. Beyond those already in existence, anyway.
I'm not going to tell you how it went. There's really nothing to tell. Blowgun and sleeping gas through an air duct. That was it.
After that, the story became even more interesting. My first client — the one who had started this whole epic over the daycare papers — came to me. A criminal boss nicknamed Robo was an intelligent man. And tougher than Nakata Akemi. So the conversation with him was much harder, but, surprisingly enough, we came to terms. It was from him that I learned why he hadn't placed the papers in a bank. It turned out Akemi had already registered the land in her own name, and he needed the documents for a lawsuit. He couldn't very well run to the bank every single day. Akemi, on the other hand, had no such problem, and the folder was most likely already sitting in a bank safety deposit box. I was about to refuse, but Robo told me he had no intention of bringing the court case to a conclusion, and though his chances of winning were zero, sooner or later Akemi herself would need to take the papers out of the bank. Which meant there would be a chance to steal them.
That's how it was. In the end, I stole those idiotic documents nine times. Just listen to that number: nine times! From the same people. They even started placing bets on me in the criminal community. And many were waiting to see when and by whom I would be replaced.
That pair had apparently made it a matter of principle. Each time it became harder to steal the documents, and yet for some reason they kept hiring me. They probably had their reasons. Akemi, incidentally, made money off me. That little vixen bet that I would rob her. Through front men, naturally. And the ninth time, I realized it would be the last. Robo was on edge, and I understood quite clearly that once he got the documents, he would try to have me removed. I don't know why me in particular. After all, I was not the most experienced thief in Garagarahebi — the Tokyo community of criminal guilds. And my death would change nothing. His reputation, however, would drop very badly, because the whole story had become quite famous, meaning there would be no way to hush up or hide my elimination. And after that, who would work with him? Still, my final conversation with Robo left very clear impressions. So why did I take the job once again? Simple — it was time to put an end to the story. And if there were witnesses that he tried to have me killed after I completed the contract, then nothing would happen to me if I eliminated the client myself. Even with someone else's help. So my path led straight to Madame Nakata.
At the entrance of that same memorable building, no one stopped me. I simply walked in, passed security, and headed deeper into the building, past offices and warehouses. Wearing the mask, notably enough. I don't know what was going on in the guards' heads, but they didn't even call out to me. Then again, maybe Akemi had a monitor showing the external cameras and had spotted me on the way in, then told security to let me pass. We would find out soon enough.
As I made my way toward that unforgettable office, I could feel curious looks following me. And it took me a moment to understand what exactly was bothering me. When I did, I even faltered in my step. Because I could literally feel gazes with my spine, without even seeing who was looking at me. More than that, I could feel more than one gaze. Highly trained people can sense… a gaze in the back, so to speak — that's a well-known and documented fact. But what was happening to me now was the final step before mastering the averting of eyes. Not invisibility, no — specifically averting. Of course, I wouldn't be able to disappear into a crowd immediately; I'd have to start small. But still, still… By the way, not everyone develops that ability. It can begin to manifest even at Veteran rank, but people only begin to master it at Specialist. By the ranking system of my world, at least. And then they polish it to perfection. I, for example, once I reached the rank of Absolute, really could vanish into a crowd. Hell, I could even slip away from the notice of other witchers up through Knight. With a Master, that became problematic, and with an Absolute, impossible. Though at that level, other abilities came into play.
And before there are questions. In my world, besides specializations like Destroyer, witchers also had ranks. Their names differed from country to country, admittedly. In Russia, a beginning witcher is assigned the lowest rank — Apprentice. Then upward: Warrior, Veteran, Specialist, Knight, Master, and Absolute. The names of the local ranks, by contrast, are the same all over the planet and differ only in pronunciation, which makes sense, since countries differ. The starting rank is Novice, followed by Apprentice, and you do not need bahir to receive either of those ranks. But beyond that, you can't do without it. Starting from Journeyman, the examination includes testing skill in bahir as well. After Journeyman comes Warrior, then Veteran, Teacher, Master, and Virtuoso.
And so, standing in the middle of an office and feeling all those different gazes on me, I realized that one more step, just a little more — and one of the most useful abilities of the human mind would yield itself to me. Even the fact that "concealment" — that was what the ability was officially called in the classified documents — could not affect cameras or any electronic means of detection, only people, could not lower my spirits.
All right, calm down, focus. Right now, think about the job.
After knocking on Akemi's office door, I waited. Silence. Maybe no one was there? I knocked again. Waited. Yeah… what rotten luck. So where was I supposed to look for her? Fine, third time's the charm. I knocked again.
— I'm sick of you idiots, just get in already! — And she added a couple of hearty expressions to that.
Well then, with me around she hadn't cursed. That's a fact.
There she sat. Hunched up like a sparrow, casting glances from the computer monitor to some papers on the desk. Funny, she actually looked kind of cute that way, more like twenty years old.
As I walked toward the desk behind which she was puffing away, I wrote in my notebook: "Hi!" And when I reached her, I shoved it under Akemi's nose. What can I say — you had to see it. Confusion. Stupor. And slo-o-owly rising eyebrows.
— I'm going to bury you, runt. — Oh! Hm… well, she definitely hadn't expected me. Which meant her security was worthless. — If you were an adult, I would tell you that you are a fool and in the same breath break your arms and legs. But you're a child and, like most children, far too insolent.
In some ways she was right, probably in many ways. Only by her classification I was a foolish child, and that wasn't entirely true. At least I hoped it wasn't.
"I have business to discuss. Something that will be interesting to both of us."
— You could at least speak normally, without that ridiculous notebook of yours, — Akemi grumbled. — There are no recording devices in this office. And I'll warn you right now: don't hope to walk calmly out of here if we don't come to an agreement. How did you even get in here?
Believe her or not? Still… all right. My voice on a recording wouldn't give her much anyway. And my sixth sense was telling me she wasn't lying.
— Super-advanced disguise system.
— Are you joking? Or not?
There you go, can't even joke.
— Ask your guards. But later. Right now, the job.
In general, we came to an agreement. At first Akemi wanted to rope me into her debt, but I talked my way out of that. They weren't only my problems we were solving, after all.
The idea was simple. I meet with Robo and hand him the documents. He checks them and tries to kill me; in response, Akemi's people kill him. Usually he chose the location, and if I was right, this time the place would be deserted. Some dead-end alley or construction site or… well, never mind, the idea is clear enough. Another arrangement was possible too, but in that case I would change the meeting place myself.
At the same time, I arranged for an intermediary I knew to act as a witness. I got concealed cameras from Candy Wrapper. I even signed a protection contract with Akemi, complete with forms, seals, and — most importantly — the contract start date. I did so much, talked to so many people, that by the end I began regretting stirring up such a wave. If I was wrong about Robo, I'd be in for a very bad time. But if everything went the way it should, those above my client would have no questions.
I won't describe the actual clash in detail. I'll only say that Akemi, as she admitted much later, had been seriously worried about me. Because in that first instant after the grand sweeping gesture of my first and last client regarding the daycare case documents, and the words "Kill him," I had been highly vulnerable. But a flashbang grenade and Akemi's crew of international degenerates handled the job beautifully, and I have the honor of telling you this story now.
Everything was done, as they would say back home, "by the code." The local code, at any rate. In my own world I never dealt with the criminal underworld and know nothing of their "codes." So there were no problems with the head of the Pelamida guild, under whom Robo worked. The lawsuit over the daycare, which had dragged on all that time, came to an end. Akemi was finally able to register the land in her own name, after which the documents over which all that mess had started turned into ordinary paper. And the "young beautiful woman" and I solemnly burned them together. I earned notoriety, a solid reputation, and the nickname Teka — Tokyo Dwarf. Oh, right, and another three million six hundred thousand yen for eight jobs. That bastard Robo hadn't even bothered to bring the money for the ninth and final one. Which was annoying, because he had promised a very decent sum.
And another half year later, Sergey died. Akemi had once again set in motion a new scheme that was supposed to raise her significantly in the hierarchy of Garagarahebi and in her own guild in particular, but apparently she had failed to account for something. Sergey was caught at the very moment he happened to be completely alone in the office of their team. I don't know what went on there, but the destruction was tremendous. When Akemi returned, she found the building devastated inside and eighteen corpses, not counting Sergey himself. Three of them were identified as Veterans. In your name, to your glory, Seryoga.
That time the fool almost kicked the bucket herself; they really had her hemmed in beautifully. Friends turned into business partners, acquaintances all vanished somewhere, and her people… well, they didn't scatter, no, but they couldn't stick their heads out either. All she had left were the stashes of cash tucked away here and there, and just four bruisers.
All hope rested on a certain box that at that moment was in the Imperial State Bank. The item didn't belong to her, and you've probably already guessed who she turned to. And that part is no longer a story, but an entire epic that has nothing to do with the matter at hand and can perfectly well remain untold. Suffice it to say, I had to reveal myself to Candy Wrapper. It turned out the old man had had a lifelong dream — to rob the ISB. And without him, I had no chance, not at that time at least. On concealment alone, I would not have gotten very far in that situation. And yes, by then I had mastered the skill and could divert the gaze of two ordinary people. There you have it. After that incident, Akemi owed me her life. Not because I succeeded, but because I took the job at all.
I never did find out what was in that box; the client is still silent to this day. Candy Wrapper got caught, but he never gave me up. And two years later I arranged myself another epic adventure by getting him out. Around the same time, my affairs with Thorn — yes, as ridiculous as it sounds, that was Akemi's nickname — became so intertwined that I considered it possible to reveal my name and address to her.