FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer: any similarities with real life people or events is entirely coincidental. All characters are privately owned. And constructive criticism is always welcome!

Soichiro Daisuke sat alone at his desk, listening with half an ear to the sounds of gunfire and shouts and screams coming from throughout his estate. The great ussuri brown bear paid it all little attention as he ran a whetsone over the family nodachi, carefully honing the edge. The sword had been in his family since the last shogunate as far as he could tell, and it seemed fitting to him that it be in good condition for when he died.

Daisuke paused and raised his head, hearing a blood curdling howl on the ground level. The sorcerer had sent his oni into the fight. He'd seen the beast and it was a formidable sight, all claws and muscles and fangs, but he held little hope that it would turn the tide. Over the last month the war in the shadows of Japan's underbelly had sapped his strength. Blood had been spilled, bodies had been piled in the alleys and sewers, and dark deeds had been committed in both the bright of day and dark of night. And he had nothing left. The last of his manpower and hardware was focussed here at his estate. He'd fled his office buildings, he'd left his businesses, and now they had found him in his last stronghold. The bear was not fool enough to think that this could end any other way.

Setting down the whetstone, Daisuke rose slowly to his feet. The ursine had a few grey hairs at his temple and muzzle but was still fit and strong, being a good seven feet tall and thick with muscle. Holding the nodachi loosely over his shoulder and dressed in loose grey track pants and a matching shirt, he looked more like he was going to the gym than waiting for his death. He took a turn around his office and surveyed the last of his kingdom. Once he'd been respected, admired and feared in equal measures. And now this was all that he had left. The paintings on the wall displaying scenes from Kyoto and Sapporo. The photographs of his family, some dating back to the second world war. The cabinet containing drinks from bottles of fine sake and imported bottles of scotch. The suit of samurai armour next to the door that was supposed have belonged to Saigo Takamori, but which was really an amusing replica. A deep sigh huffed from the depths of the ursine's chest, and he slowly shook his head.

"Somewhere the gods are laughing" he murmured, then gazed up at the ceiling with a stern expression. "Well you can keep laughing you bastards. I'd do it all again if I had the chance."

What a disaster this had all turned into. And yet, looking back, he could see how it happened so clearly.

//////

"Let me see!" Saito hissed and tugged at his arm. "Daisuke, let me see too!" Impatiently, the young bear cub shrugged off his younger brother's insistent grip and kept his eye pressed to the door crack. In his haste, his grandfather had forgot to lock it and had unwittingly afforded his young grandson a look into his study at the strange confrontation that was brewing.

Soichiro Tatsuo was a great bear of a bear. His expensive suit, tailored to his size, still strained against muscles and was unable to make him look like the businessman he was. Scarred from fighting in China, he was a military veteran who had never shown fear or even concern in all the years that others had known him, not when under fire by Russians or when facing down Yakuza enforcers with automatic weapons. To his young grandson he seemed like a fierce god from another age.

So the sight of him practically trembling before the foreign wolf was unthinkable!

Mind you he was an exceedingly strange looking specimen. Quite tall but very thin, his expensive clothing seemed to hang right off of him. His thick grey fur seemed almost spiky, like a hedgehog's quills. And his red eyes never blinked once as they rested on Tatsuo, even as he idly swirled a glass of wine delicately in one heavily clawed hand. Behind him, standing quietly and always smiling brightly was a panther woman, hands clasped together and dressed in an elegant black gown, her shadow seeming to loom behind her all across the wall. And when the wolf spoke, his voice made Daisuke's skin crawl.

"I must say Mr. Soichiro" he murmured, voice almost sibilant as it tasted the words, "I am disappointed. We did have a deal after all. A favour for a favour. A life for a life."

"You ask too much!" Tatsuo growled, and though he looked like he could break both of his guests in half with his bare hands he paced and clenched his fists in agitation. "This was never a part o the deal!"

"Come now Mr. Soichiro...we did good business before this. You're rich now, respected...you lived through the war after all, and now you have your own little kingdom under the sun. It hardly seems fair to welsh on our agreement after you've benefited so freely."

"He's my son!" Tatsuo shook his head slowly and clenched his fists, seeking to contain himself, and when he continued his voice was more calm. "I was the one to sign the deal. Responsibility falls upon me to see it through. I will go with you as you require, for whatever purpose you decide."

"While it's true that you offered your own life for power and prosperity, the contract requires that you deliver a life unto me off equal worth at the time of the signing. And yours has become much more valuable to me since then, I'm afraid." The wolf shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "I'm nothing if not accommodating" he went on. "If your son means that much to you then choose another of your bloodline. You have another son after all. And a daughter. And two grandchildren I believe?" He tilted his head very slightly, just enough so that Daisuke could see one red eye looking straight at him. The pestering of his little brother fell away, a faint roar hummed in his ears. And for several long seconds it seemed to Daisuke that there was nothing else in the world but that ancient, inhuman eye.

Then Tatsuo snarled and Daisuke blinked in surprise, breaking the spell. "You leave them out of this!" he yelled and took a step forward, hand raising as though he would batter the teeth right out of the wolf. Then...he stopped. His eyes widened and bulged and his muscles strained as he struggled. But some force had him in its grip, and for all his great strength...he just couldn't seem to break it. A darkness curled about him, twisting and winding like a strangler snake, wrapping tightly around his neck and squeezing. Slowly, though his whole body trembled with effort, the bear was forced down onto his knees as the wolf watched and sipped his wine with a clinical interest.

The panther giggled then and slowly stepped forward, high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Daisuke blinked and rubbed his hand across his eyes. The image stayed the same. The woman's shadow was projected ahead of her, rejecting the play of the light, and wrapped around his grandfather's throat and chest, holding him tightly. It wasn't possible. It was like the magic in a bedtime story, but horribly, terrifyingly real. "Now now Mr. Soichiro" she purred sensually, planting one heel on the back of his head, "That's not how a good host behaves. A good host respects his guests. He sees to their needs. He never...ever...forgets himself!" Her smile widened, lips peeling back from sharp teeth as she pushed his face into the floor, grinding and rubbing. She was so smug...even from this distance Daisuke could see it. She was enjoying herself so much, grinding his grandfather's face into the carpet with her foot as she strangled the fight out of him. A sick, roiling feeling churned in the young bear's belly and he looked away, dimly aware that his brother insistently badgered him to let him see! Gritting his teeth, he only shook his head and hunched his shoulders against his persistence, forcing himself to watch even as it made him sick to his stomach.

"Alright." The wolf's soft voice cut through the study like a knife through butter. "That's enough. Let him up my dear." He finished drinking his glass of wine and turned to set it on a desk while the panther slowly stepped back. The shadows retreated from the great ursine, though the panther's sadistic grin still curved her lips. Crouching down, he settled himself on one knee beside Daisuke's grandfather, regarding him patiently like a man would his disobedient son.

"Now Tatsuo" he said patiently. "I understand your position. Nobody enjoys sending away their family. I myself would be lost without Raquel." The panther chuckled softly, smoothing her dress over her hips as the wolf continued. "But the fact remains that you DO owe me someone. Someone of your blood. That was the arrangement. I came to your aid. I saved your life, as you recall. You remember? Do you know what would have happened to you? What life in a Russian prison camp would have been like? The cold. The starvation. The abuse. Wasting away a bit at a time, until you're nothing but skin and bones. Forced to pick through shit to find something to eat. All your great size and strength coming to nothing as you age and grow old. Becoming worthless. A burden." The wolf's voice lowered to a soft whisper as he spoke, conjuring images in the mind with his words. Watching at the doorway Daisuke felt a shiver run down his spine. They were just words of course! But... But...for a moment, just a brief instant in time, he felt like he could feel it. The cold. The aches of bruises and broken bones. The starvation setting in, driving him to debase himself... The young bear folded his ears back and shook his head, and the image vanished like a nightmare come the morning. Still...if he closed his eyes he could almost feel it all over again.

Tatsuo certainly believed it. The big bear planted his paws over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He whimpered. Yes, whimpered. "Yes...whatever you want..." he gasped. "I'm sorry, I...you'll get him! Marcus, please!"

And the wolf, Marcus, smiled and slowly backed away, rising to his feet as Tatsuo collapsed to the floor, panting for breath. "We've had a long business relationship my friend" he said, "And I can't tell you how glad I am that we've solved this. I would hate to have to deal with somebody new. Someone who simply doesn't...understand the way you do." He cocked his head to the side and murmured in a questioning tone "You do understand, don't you?"

Evidently Tatsuo did. Within the week Daisuke's father went on a trip. He never learned where and he never saw him again.

//////

Footsteps scampered down the hallway. Young Daisuke raised his head and peered at the door as Saito poked his head inside. "Oh, there you are" he said with a grin, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Five years was a long time, and both young bears had done some growing up. Growing taller and stronger, and yet both still had a long way to go in life. "Come on, the kendo club from school is having try outs. If we get in the popular club, then we're pretty much set for the rest of the school year!"

Daisuke pushed his book aside with the pile and cracked his neck, groaning lightly. He blinked a couple of times, his eyes bleary, and slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He'd been sitting s long that he'd gained a cramp in his back. "Ngh... I think I'll pass on the kendo, Saito" he said, finally smiling at his younger brother. "I'd rather study than hit things with swords."

Saito made a face. "Pfft! One day you're going to need to hit something with a sword, you know. Then where will you be? What are you even studying here anyway?" he asked, reaching over to pick up a book. Daisuke had certainly amassed quite a pile before him, pulled off from the library shelves and borrowed from the library. Saito flipped the book open to a random page and blinked. "What's this? Some kind of zombie?"

Daisuke leaned over and peered at the page which depicted a grey skinned man with dirty, bedraggled hair and clothes stalking people in the dark. "That's a revenant" he explained. "A dead man who died consumed with a need for revenge. So much so that he gets back up to chase his killers."

"Yeesh, what kind of classes are you taking in school?" Saito chuckled and set down the book, picking up another. "Dracula: the man behind the myth. Are you turning some kind of occult buff?"

"Well its fascinating stuff! Here." Daisuke lifted another off the pile. "It's a study of stage illusions and how they work. Lights and misdirection and things like that. And this here...another book about cryptids. Monsters and weird animals that have all kinds of myths about them but no hard science behind."

Saito shook his head and smiled, a bit bewildered. "So...what, you're looking to join the occult club?"

Daisuke snorted and rolled his eyes. "Maybe. It's just...stuff that's interesting to me."

"Well you've sure got some strange interests, brother." The younger ursine flipped through the book at random, reading off some entries as he passed them by. "The Mongolian death worm...skin-walkers of North America...ahhh, ghouls apparently eat the flesh of intelligent beings and can take the form of the recently devoured!" Saito grinned and arched an eyebrow at Daisuke. "Are you sure you don't want to try out for the kendo club? If you really figure that all of these things exist, you'll need something to keep them away. Or maybe get grandfather to teach you some things, huh?"

Daisuke fell silent. His grandfather, Tatsuo. He'd not been quite the same since that day. It had been four years since the wolf and his witch had damaged the Soichiro family, taking Daisuke's father away and humiliating his grandfather like that. The elder bear retained most of his life, his energy and his spirit but something had faded inside of him. He was, undeniably, older now. In more than just body. It broke Daisuke's heart to see him. And remembering that day...the sick glee on the panther's face, the casual cruelty in the wolf's inhuman eyes... It still made his hands tremble a bit. He set his hands on the table, gripping the wood to hide his shivers and regarded his brother who had opened up a book on crypto zoology. Saito hadn't seen what he had seen. Or if he had, he'd been able to move past it. In the years since that day the young bear had grown into an earnest and athletic young man, while Daisuke had become bookish and withdrawn. Friends joked with Saito about his spooky older brother, but not too hard lest they get socked in the nose. And Daisuke appreciated the care. He wished he could let it go like his brother could. But...he couldn't. Something about that day stayed with him, and made him want to know...

'Hey Saito?" Saito raised his head and Daisuke smiled. "Maybe I'll come with you anyway. Just for a while at least. Maybe watching you brutes hit each other with swords for a while will inspire me." The younger male smiled back, delighted, and gave his bookish brother a whack on the shoulder. "Ahhh I knew you'd come around!" he said cheerfully. "Come on then, hurry up! We don't want to be late!"

Daisuke chuckled and moved to follow him as his brother dashed out the door. He paused in the doorway though, his eyes turning to his books. They were full of many interesting things. Some of it was bogus, he was sure. Yet still he read, he studied, and he searched for answers. He would find them one day, he was sure. And he would make sense of what he had seen that day, when his grandfather had been menaced by monsters. Sighing to himself, he turned his mind from his fears and worries and set out to join his brother in the sun, at least for a time.

//////

Marcus St. James.

Officially the man didn't exist. Even unofficially he was something of a phantom. Direct information was difficult to find regarding his whereabouts, his inclinations, even his looks. All that was really known about him was that he was one of the finest purveyors of hired killers around, and that he could name his price for services rendered.

Even finding a name to call him had been a struggle for Daisuke. It had been seventeen years since that day when he'd witnessed the fearsome wolf and the bitch of a panther humiliate his grandfather. A lot had changed in his family since then. His grandfather had passed on, his uncle had inherited the family business, close ties had been formed and maintained with Japan's organised crime families and young Daisuke had grown. He'd lived his life, was courting a young woman, become intimately acquainted with all facets, legal or otherwise, with the family business. And he'd become something of an expert on Marcus St. James.

He had, for example, learned how to contact his organisation. It wasn't as difficult as it might seem. The wolf was a secretive man but he was still a businessman who wanted others to purchase his services. Asking the right questions of the right people could get you access to skilled dealers of death, more than willing to accommodate personal tastes and preferences into their activities. They were expensive, to be sure, but good help was never cheap.

Daisuke said as much to the assassin he had hired as the pair strolled through the grounds of his family estate, through gardens, over fish ponds and beneath the spreading branches of trees. At twenty five years of age he'd gone through more than one growth spurt, and he towered over the calm, unassuming reptile who smiled politely at his words. The Gila monster's tongue flickered out, tasting the air He was reasonably tall but thin and fragile looking. Dressed in a patchy leather coat, faded jeans and a dark green shirt that clashed with Daisuke's businessman attire he looked nothing so much like an American student who'd moved to Japan to study and found himself running out of money and forced to live on the street. But he never stopped smiling. And his very walk exuded confidence, if little grace. And after Daisuke's comment about good help never being cheap, his smile widened for a moment and he murmured in slightly raspy voice, "Mr. Soichiro, in this case you very much get what you pay for."

Daisuke snorted faintly at the bravado. "Words are just that Mr. Vee" he remarked, but nonetheless handed him a manila folder. "But we'll see. Jonathon Walker. Aged fifty three. Executive vice president of Gear Tech. Currently visiting Sapporo on a business trip for the next three days. Details are inside. I want him brought to me alive and reasonably conscious with as little fuss as you can imagine." He watched the Gila monster flip casually through the folder for a moment or two, then tuck it under his arm, muzzle spreading wide in a bright smile. "Everything you need to know should be in there."

"And it is more than enough Mr. Soichiro" Vee said lightly, straightening himself up and letting his tail squirm and wiggle about his legs for a moment. With his legs tangled up, he nearly tripped and it took him a moment to steady himself before speaking again. "Three days. Plenty of time. I will be in contact with you soon. With services gladly rendered." He bowed his head and turned to slink away down the stone path, looking so out of place and awkward that, watching him, Daisuke had trouble believing his pedigree.

But still...he remembered. Seventeen years ago Marcus and his bitch had bullied his grandfather to his knees through sheer force of...something. Vee looked harmless, nearly tripping over his tail again before he disappeared around a corner. And Daisuke frowned in thought, wondering.

The next day the bear was reading the morning paper while eating a light breakfast when he received a visitor. Two of them actually. One was the Gila monster assassin. And the other was his target. Jonathon Walker, all tied up and blindfolded. The draft horse was gagged with his suit rumpled and generally looking like he'd seen better days, ears twitching with barely restrained panic, head turning left and right as he listened for details.

Daisuke arched an eyebrow at Vee. The reptile just smiled. "Alive and conscious, as requested."

"So I see." Daisuke raised the newspaper and turned it about to show the reptile. The front headline read 'American Businessman Disappears from Night Club.' Much of the front page was taken up by a colour picture of a dour looking roan stallion...bearing a striking similarity to the man on his floor right now. "It says here that he was last seen leaving the club in the company of vixen with black hair and pink highlights" he reported, arching an eyebrow at the reptilian. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

The reptile just chuckled and flicked his tail idly. "Newspapers...always latching on to strange rumours for whatever will make for an interesting story. Why...do I look female to you?"

Daisuke was about to retort, when...well, for a moment...he did. Vee's body...changed. He straightened up and pushed one curvy hip out, running fingers through long black hair streaked with pink highlights, fur clad pointed vulpine muzzle spread in a sweet, come hither smile... Daisuke blinked and leaned forward to be sure that his eyes were not playing tricks on him, but when he peered at him closer...it was nothing. The Gila monster just grinned wide, hands resting on the bound stallion's shoulders.

Daisuke said nothing for several moments as he collected himself from the strange sight. Wondering at what he'd just seen. Or thought he had seen. Sipping his tea, he slowly eased his large body forward, reaching his chopsticks across the table for a piece of tofu. "I see" he murmured, drawing out a pen. "Did he threaten?"

"Certainly" Vee said, grinning.

"Did he try to bribe you?"

"With whatever my heart desired."

"Did he plead?"

Vee snickered, tongue flicking between his lips. "Eventually. About the time I was stuffing him in the trunk of my car."

Daisuke nodded and gestured. Jonathon Walker's ears twitched and he straightened himself up a bit, shaking himself out of his frightened stupor. "Now...now wait just a minute!" he snapped. "I can double what he's paying you! Don't be a fool! I hrk!!!" As he spoke the Gila monster's nails grew long and curved and wickedly sharp, and his words were cut short when Vee jammed long, claws into his throat. The stallion's neck was thick with muscle and it took a few seconds for the reptile to work his jagged in deep enough to reach the jugular. Daisuke watched with clinical interest as Walker convulsed and jerked and the blood began to flow, spilling from his throat and down his chest ruining his expensive shirt. The horse tried to speak but the words came out as wet gurgles while Vee sawed industriously away at his throat until claws sliced through his jugular and the flow of blood became a fountain. Flesh and bone and cartilage tore under his touch until the reptile yanked his bloody hand from the man's throat and seized hold of his mane. A sharp twist to the side and the remaining strips of flesh that held him together tore and Walker's head was torn fully from its body. Casually kicking the headless body to the side Vee approached his employer and presented the trophy with a flourish.

"Your trophy sir."

Daisuke regarded the severed head blandly. "I suppose it's too much to ask you to clean up your mess."

Vee grinned and licked his lips. The Gila monster's blood spattered features made him look like some kind of bizarre harlequin. "Only if there's a bonus in it for me."

The ursine nodded towards a table at the side of the room where a thick envelope lay, then reflexively raised his hands to catch as Vee tossed Walker's severed head to him. Smiling like the cat that caught the canary, the bloody reptile sashayed his way towards his pay while Daisuke regarded the very deceased equine. The man had deliberately dragged out business negotiations, seeking concessions to line his pockets, and had been a rude guest. Hardly offenses worthy of murder and death. Still, they were offenses that needed to be answered. Others would see the warning before their eyes and think twice before crossing him. And of all those who he could have hired to commit the deed, Marcus St. James and his organisation were the very best. None would ever know.

"Oh hey."

Daisuke glanced over too Vee. The Gila monster had taken the wad of bills from the envelope and appeared to be playing games with them. Right before his eyes, Vee selected a bill and began folding it across ad against itself. It looked like he was trying his hand at origami, but whatever he was trying to make, it was coming out as a ball of wadded money. Looking up, he flicked his long tongue from his muzzle and wagged it about playfully. "If you're convinced by our professionalism and results, then I should let you know...repeat customers get a discount."

Soichiro arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" he murmured. Cracking his neck to the side, he released the severed head and let it thump to the floor, to lie unheeded until he had it taken away. "I'll have to remember that then."

///////

Tokyo at midnight was almost as bright as Tokyo at high noon. Alone on the highest observation deck of the Tokyo Tower, Daisuke looked down at the world below, at the hustle and bustle of one of the busiest cities in the world, and he could almost make out the individual features of people strolling down the sidewalk, it was so bright. Trolleys buzzed back and forth, music from night clubs played, and millions of people lived their daily lives, absorbed in their own affairs. They knew nothing and cared nothing for the state of the world around them. They were mere insects. Amoebae in a great fishbowl, unaware of the larger organisms that tossed them in their wake of their passing. Daisuke could almost envy them such tranquility. To be just one of many...to not have drawn the attention of those greater beings...

He heaved a soft sigh and shook his head. He might as well wish for his father and grandfather back. There was no merit in futile wishes. Only in facing reality.

Footsteps made his ears flick. Steady and measured, they drew him out of his inner reflections, and the great bear slowly turned his head to regard the newcomer. It had been nearly twenty years since he'd first contacted the strange and mysterious killers of Marcus St. James. And in all those years he had hired their services many more times. They were expensive, but as he had been told that first time, they were worth the cost. He had been in the presence of all manner of hired killers and professional weapons. Arrogant psychopaths, cold blooded sociopaths. Those that seemed perfectly normal and those steeped in what he had come to classify as supernatural elements. Even in the strange and wonderful world of hired killers, where every man, woman and creature had their own gimmicks, signatures and preferred methods of killing, there were certain trends that ran true, and even the most professional and deadly of killers were hard pressed to hide like wolves among sheep.

The tiger who stood before him was every inch the killer. It was written in every line of his body. Nearly as tall as he was though whip thin, he held himself straight and still, arms folded across his chest and watching him calmly with yellow eyes. Studying him. Sizing him up. Daisuke didn't speak up. He studied him right back, taking in the tiger's build and size and features while the world bustled below them on their own business.

At last the tiger inclined his head ever so slightly. "You're a bold man" he greeted him, voice surprisingly soft for one so tall. "We didn't expect your message. And I must say, most of us weren't thrilled by it. There were long arguments about shoving you off the top of this tower."

Daisuke arched an eyebrow. "Since you haven't done so yet, I assume you've decided to at least hear me out." When the tiger nodded again, he reached into the folds of his business jacket and produced a file folder. "Baneslayers" he murmured, catching the flicker in the man's eyes. "That's what your organisation calls yourself. Founded a thousand years ago by the Catholic church to fight demons and monsters, you broke away after disagreements over one Vlad Tepes."

"You're well informed" the tiger murmured. "Vlad was a monster and yet the church held him close."

"Sometimes monsters have their uses."

"And sometimes they must be put down."

A smile flickered across Daisuke's muzzle. "This is why I asked to speak with your order." He offered the folder toot he tiger who took it and began to leaf through it. "All throughout your history you've hunted demons and other creatures, to protect the weak and helpless. You yourself, Mr. Volkov, were particularly active during the second world war. The records are vague but they are there. Survivors from ghettos being preyed upon by strange creatures of the night. Prisoners of war dragged off into the darkness. Civilians and soldiers not daring to leave their fires out of fear of Things in the darkness, drawn by the slaughter and death. You and your kind have hunted the hunters for hundreds of years." Now here Daisuke leaned forward very slightly, eyes narrowing. "But the strongest of these creatures always manage to elude you. They adapt. Evolve. They learn to hide in society and bend it to their advantage. What if, Mr. Volkov, I could direct you to one? Strip back the lies and the camouflage and direct you right to his lair?"

Volkov's eyes had narrowed at the contents of the folder. At the photographs and dossiers of every assassin that Daisuke had seen over his many long years, along with every scrap of information that he knew about their skills, abilities and weaponry. Included were maps and photographs co-ordinates, painstakingly extrapolated though twenty years of study, care, and preparation for this day. Now the tiger regarded Daisuke intently. "Marcus St. James."

"Marcus St. James."

"How did you get all of this information?" Volkov asked, pulling out one photo and its accompanying notes. Daisuke recognised the picture, of a Gila Monster ambling down an American street, slurping crudely at some kind of orange slush drink. The photographer had captured the reptile's clumsy grace and natural irreverence.

"Through firsthand experience mostly" he explained. "I've spent an astonishing amount of money over the years hiring out their services. I study them. I study their crime scenes. And then I pay them with marked bills with the serial numbers recorded so that they can be tracked by my people in the right places. Some of them are suspicious and are careful of where they use them. Some of them are a bit more obliging than others. Vee there, for instance." The bear reached into his suit jacket and produced a cigarette and lighter, tucking the one in his mouth and lighting it up with the other. "Gregarious fellow. A stealthy type. Master of disguise. Shape shifting as well. I wasn't sure at first, but he was kind enough to demonstrate it to me. And investigation of the scene and my office revealed some of his skin cells in a state of change. From that I would speculate that it's a natural talent of his rather than some form of magic or exceptional skill at disguising himself." A soft cloud of grey smoke puffed from his lips as he spoke, the comforting poison of nicotine working its way into his blood stream, calming him. "He spends money like water. I have agents and people who owe me favours keeping track of where he and quite a few others are spending these bills. It's rather like throwing a handful of seeds in the air and watching the wind take them away. All you have to do then, is follow them."

Daisuke watched the tiger's reactions to his words. The man was tempted. Very tempted. And so he should be. This was quite an offer after all. But he was cautious. The Baneslayers had as many enemies as Marcus St. James and his organisation. And they were not fools.

"You paint a very interesting picture Mr. Soichiro" Volkov murmured, flipping through the pages, no doubt committing as much to memory as he could about individual assassins and their abilities. "Though you'll forgive me if I hesitate to trust you fully. Tell me something. What do you get out of ending this mutually beneficial relationship that you have with St. James and his killers?"

"As you say, sometimes monsters must be put down."

"And as you say, sometimes they have their uses" Volkov said flatly. "Just how long have you been planning this, Soichiro? You've spent obscene amounts of time, money and effort on this. And this isn't something that you just decide to do one day. Throwing away valuable assets, earning the hate of a powerful man with a LOT of resources. Either he did something to really piss you off enough that you wanted to destroy him...or you've been planning this from the first moment you made contact!"

Daisuke didn't answer him for a moment. He merely puffed on his cigarette, chewing on the butt. Thinking. Meeting the tiger's eyes, neither of them blinking. Eventually he grunted and let the cigarette fall to the floor, crushing the flame out under his shoe. "It's personal" he growled out and turned away.

Volkov arched an eyebrow up. "Where are you going?" he asked as Daisuke headed towards the elevator that would take him back to ground floor.

"Back home. I have my own death to prepare for." The bear paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I just gave you detailed information on Marcus St. James and his pack of hired killers. You have years worth of dirt on him in your hands there. Even if you twiddle your thumbs and use it for coasters my life is worth less than the paper it's printed on. If word gets out what I've done, do you really think he's going to let me live? I have to prepare. Go into hiding. Put together every resource I have and try to get my family out of sight and just pray that he comes for me instead. And THEN I have to keep him fixated on me long enough that they'll have time to get somewhere safe. If there is such a place." Daisuke shook his head grimly. "So keep the documents. Do what you want with them. I've done what I came here for, and now I'm leaving."

Volkov arched an eyebrow, watching the ursine punch in the button that would take him down. He glanced again at the documents and a photograph of Marcus in particular. The image of the red eyed wolf seeming to glare right back at him. Daisuke lumbered into the elevator and had hit the ground floor button when the tiger tucked away the folder under his jacket.

"I'll give my fellows your words" Volkov told him, inclining his head slightly. "We'll decide what to do from there."

Daisuke nodded back. Then closed his eyes as the doors slid shut and hid him from view. As the elevator took him down he leaned back against the steel wall, feeling suddenly drained. His hands trembled as he fished out another cigarette. For a moment he was a child again, watching his grandfather bullied and tortured into submission by a demonic freak of nature. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor he had recovered, taking some comfort in all that he had to do now. It was done. The die was cast, the bets were made. Now all he could do was try to survive, and he had no time to fear for his own life. "Go to war prepared to die, and you shall live" he muttered an old proverb to himself as he stepped out into the dark streets. "Go to war hoping to live, and surely you shall perish...hmmph." He smirked to himself, approaching his car and waving to his chauffeur. "Ever notice how old sayings are never as applicable to life as we'd like them to be?"

The chauffeur, a distant cousin of his whose pay grade was comfortably below such troublesome musings, blinked as he held the passenger side door open for him. "Sir?"

Daisuke waved him off as he climbed inside. "Never mind. Take me home. There's a lot of work that I have to do." Death... He mused on the subject on the ride back to his estate. He didn't mind the thought so much. So long as it was suitably spectacular...

////////

"Get back!" The panicked shrieks outside his office door distracted Soichiro. Frowning, he set down the whetstone and rose to his feet, family sword in hand. "Get back!!! Don't come any- STOP!!!" The shouts of his guards were replaced by gunfire and for several seconds automatic weapons chattered in the hallway just in front of his door. He could hear bullets ripping into walls and tearing tracks through the plaster. And then a last panicked scream cut off by a gurgle. An enraged shout from the other guard cut off in mid word. Then silence. Soichiro waited patiently for his killer to approach. Then the door swung open and in he stepped.

Part of Soichiro was disappointed. He'd been hoping for one of the various assassins he'd employed over the years. Vee perhaps. Or maybe that panther bitch who'd strangled his grandfather into submission all those years ago. It would have been nice to have a chance at one of them. This one though, he didn't know. He was a dragon. A western breed, he believed. Wingless with green scales coating his slender body, he picked his way carefully across the carpeted floor to stand before Soichiro's desk, studying him as he in turn was studied. The man stood bare foot, dressed in a sleeveless black shirt and short pants, long white hair falling down his back as grey eyes met his own. His long thin tail was wrapped around his waist like a belt, and a bare katana was held in his fist. Soichiro might have admired the craftsmanship if not for the situation. He looked bloody and battered like he and his friends had cut his way through a whole pile of guards with guns, knives and all kinds of weapons. Which, upon reflection, was certainly the case.

Eventually Soichiro smiled and nodded his head slightly. "I pride myself on being a good host" he rumbled in English, fingers tightening about his nodachi's hilt. "So before we get started, would you care for a drink?" He nodded sideways to the drink cabinet.

The dragon watched him in silence for a moment. Then cracked a wry smile. "Tempting" he admitted. "But I think I'll save it for afterwards." He tilted his head slightly, regarding him. "I was expecting grenades wired to the door handle, bear traps on the floor. Maybe for you to start shooting the moment I stepped in the room. Yet here we are, talking to each other like civilised people." He smiled at that thought, hand tightening on the hilt of his katana. "Are you trying to surrender? Because orders are to kill you on sight."

"Well we may be enemies, but there's no reason to be hateful about it."

"Marcus might disagree with that."

Soichiro arched an eyebrow. "So he survived then? I'd wondered how that business turned out.

The dragon smiled. Even chuckled a bit. "Yes, he survived. He's got a few new scars for his troubles, a healthy dose of paranoia, and is unbelievably pissed off. But he survived. Just between you and me...he lost his temper something fierce. Hence all of this", he gestured around them, encompassing the whole mansion. The sounds of battle were dying down. Now and then there were shouts and the sounds of gunfire, and once the howling scream of an oni, but resistance was waning and time was running out. "This isn't an assassination attempt" he went on. "This is...a warzone." The dragon's smile widened. "So much more fun this way."

Soichiro snorted and hefted his nodachi up, keeping the tip pointed at the assassin. "I'm so glad you approve" he murmured, spreading his legs a bit and adopting a rough stance.

"It's better to have a real challenge than a simple task." The dragon moved into his own duelling stance with practiced ease. Again, Soichiro would have admired it if not for the situation. And for a moment they regarded each other, swords out, eyes locked, just...waiting. Outside in the hallway one of the guards groaned feebly, not quite dead yet, then fell silent. "I am curious though" he asked after neither of them lunged or the other right away. "Why?"

Soichiro arched an eyebrow and did not lower his sword. "Why what?"

"Why all of this." He waved a hand, gesturing to the room, the bodies outside in the hall, the battlegrounds, the whole estate. "I saw the records. You had a long and productive business relationship with us. You hired assassins...what, a dozen times? Fifteen? You were a regular customer. One more and you would have made our Christmas list." The dragon grinned wide, showing his teeth. He lowered his katana a fraction and leaned in closer, putting his neck tantalisingly close to the range of that enormous nodachi. "Right from the start you were planning on killing Marcus and fucking us over. Don't pretend otherwise. You put too much time, money and work into this for it to just be a snap decision. It was actually pretty brilliant even if it's getting you killed." He took another step closer, and another, moving fully within range of that gleaming razor edge and keeping his eyes locked on Soichiro. "So why not speak up about it? There's all kinds of theories about you among my friends out there. Heck, we started a betting pool when we arrived in Japan."

Soichiro snorted. "Sounds like a good enough reason for keeping quiet to me" he remarked, and his blade was swinging before the sentence was finished.

The nodachi swung hard and fast, cutting a horizontal arc at the dragon. He was moving almost before the blade was swung. Diving low behind the desk, only a few strands of his hair parting before the sharp steel. Growling, Soichiro kicked hard and raised his sword as the heavy hardwood desk flung forward, ready to hack into the smaller male as he darted out-

Heat ripped across his ribs. Soichiro staggered back in more surprise than pain, swinging his nodachi and keeping the tip between himself and the dragon who stood behind him now, katana in guard position and dripping fresh blood. The bear's side was torn open and blood soaked into his business suit. Grimacing briefly, he made himself smirk. "You're quick."

The dragon grinned and quipped "That's what my girlfriend says", and then he was moving again. Fuck, he was so fast! Practically just a speed blur, sword carving into Soichiro's side again and sidestepping almost before the bear swung into an attack. Soichiro coughed, blood flecking his lips, and snarled, throwing himself at the assassin. His sword hummed through the air as he swung it forcefully, seeking the assassin's life blood, following doggedly when he danced back and out of the way. The dragon retreated all over the office, never staying put and always keeping just out of reach of that merciless, flailing nodachi. The suit of replica armour went down from a wild blow, as did a picture of the Kyoto skyline. The assassin was always one step ahead of him though. Now and then he darted in quick as a striking snake and left bloody rents in the bear's skin. Soichiro grunted and growled at each new wound, his suit being gradually hacked to ribbons as they fought. None were fatal in of themselves though, and with wide, powerful slashes he drove the assassin back towards the corner of his office. The humming nodachi cut closer and closer, ever seeking the dragon's scaly skin. And yet still he evaded each strike. Until his back thumped against the liquor cabinet. No more room to flee. Snarling, Soichiro stepped in, bringing his blade down for a vicious stab and thrust.

But he was so fast... Almost too fast for the eye to follow the dragon cut left and Soichiro's sword smashed into the liquor cabinet. Bottles shattered, spraying strong alcohol out, and before the drops hit the ground and the bear had recovered the dragon moved in for the kill. Ducking under his arms and beneath his guard, he darted forward as quick as a striking snake. His blade bit and drew back, and he was already retreating across the room to safety, standing at guard with his katana held in both hands. He needn't have bothered. The assassin had struck true and both he and Soichiro knew it. The big bear looked down ruefully. The wound pierced clear through his chest and blood was already spreading and soaking through his shirt. "Fuck."

The dragon nodded and leaned back to rest on his tail. "That about sums it up." He watched Soichiro as the bear turned to face him, the strength running out of his body. "It's a shame really. It's been ages since someone's had the balls to take a shot at Marcus. And I've never seen him so angry. To tweak his nose hard. And you made him look like a fool this whole month." He grinned slowly, inclining his head respectfully. "I have to say...well played."

"Hm... Forgive me...if that doesn't...brighten my mood..." Soichiro's breath was coming heavier now. Clutching the hilt of his nodachi, leaning with the tip pressed against the floor, he turned himself about and regarded the dragon. His killer. "I'd have liked...to take one of you...with me..." he rasped, blood flecking his lips.

"Well...forgive me if I'm not sorry for that."

Soichiro smirked wryly and let his eyes drift shut. He held himself still for several moments as blood ran from his wounds and soaked his shirt, running down his pants to pool on the floor. Thinking. Remembering. The little boy he'd been, watching his grandfather humiliated all those years ago. The young man growing up in a ruthless business climate. Watching his younger brother leave to go abroad into the greater world. Men he'd had killed or ruined for theatening his private kingdom. Meeting the woman who'd become his wife. The day his son was born. So many old memories tugging at his heartstrings. For a moment it looked to the dragon like he was going to die standing up, propped up on his sword and lost in remembering his life. Then Soichiro sighed and a cough wracked his body, blood flecking his lips as he slowly drew himself up to his full height. Turning to face the dragon, he brandished his sword and took a heavy step forward. Cocking his head, the reptile watched him for a moment as he absently toyed with his long white locks. "You're dying" he said. It was a statement of fact that brooked no argument. "Taking a last shot at me isn't going to change it. I don't mind letting you be to relax during your last moments...you've been a worthy opponents this last month." He gestured to the wrecked liquor cabinet. "I'd say have a last drink if there's actually anything left in there. Really, I'm surprised you're not dead right now. I nicked your heart during that last exchange." The dragon fell silent and cocked his head, studying Soichiro for a moment. "Are you so hell-bent on refusing to go out with some dignity?"

Soichiro rolled his eyes. His thick muzzle spread in a bloody grin. "I bet you'd like that..." he growled wetly. "For me to just roll over and die. Give in. Kneel before you. Like you made my grandfather kneel, like you made my father kneel. But I do not kneel." The great bear chuckled and took another heavy step forward. "You asked why I did all of this... I do not kneel. Marcus insulted my family...humiliated my grandfather...the gods alone know what he did to my father!" He shook his head slowly. "I'm not one of his vassals. Or his slaves. For my honour, my pride, and my family, I...will not...kneel to him. Though it kills me...though I won't live the day...he will know...that I deny him...with my last breath!"

The dragon was silent as he listened, his katana held loosely in one hand and his silver- grey eyes fixed on Soichiro. For a moment he didn't speak as the wounded but still towering ursine lumbered towards him with death in his eyes. Then he smiled and slowly nodded. "Well put...I understand you sir" he murmured, straightening himself up. "Very well. To the last breath." Spreading his legs apart, he held his katana in guard position, the sole witness to the ursine's final defiance.

////////

The midsized wolf picked his way over the hacked remains of the two security guards, shoes carefully stepping over spilled guts and congealed blood. His grey and black fur was already bloody as hell, most of it belonging to others but plenty of it his own, seeping from nicks and cuts and a few wicked claw slashes. With the muzzle of his chrome finished Desert Eagle leading the way, he peered into the battered office. It looked like a tornado had gone raging through. Rich furnishings had been torn down, furniture had been smashed...blood was thick in the air. The scent made the wolf's hackles rise and he growled unconsciously even as he eyes settled on the two central figures in the room. Laying flat on his back, horribly mauled and slashed open and soaked with blood, lay an enormous ursine. And on the ruins of the desk, the dragon sat, one leg crossed and the other dangling lazily above the floor. In his lap he cradled a large nodachi, inspecting it with an admiring eye and not seeming to mind the blood that clung to the side of his head, matting his thick white hair. Lifting his head as the wolf approached, his eyes lit with recognition and he smiled.

"You're a bit late Raine" he greeted with a wave of his hand. "I just finished up in here."

Raine, snorted faintly and holstered his gun as he stepped into the room. "You should have waited for me Isaac" he admonished. "He could have had another sorcerer, or bombs or some other trick."

"Would you have waited?"

"Probably not." Raine let himself relax a little and even smile as he approached. He knelt down by the ursine's body and felt for his pulse. Nothing. The wolf felt a note of relief that finally this was all over. Straightening up, he cracked his back and gritted his teeth, groaning out. "Did he put up a fight?"

Isaac nodded, holding up the nodachi for Raine to see. "He was trained and practiced but not competitively" he declared. "He didn't stand a chance, but he fought hard and wouldn't surrender. 'I will not kneel', he said. It was a pretty good way to go as far as things go."

Raine rolled his eyes and smirked shaking his head as he walked passed his friend to examine the liquor cabinet. "So I managed to pry the Blood Pig off of Soichiro's wife" he said, reaching in and carefully pulling out an intact bottle of sake. "She'd pried out one of her eyes and ate it, and wasn't happy that I sent her packing...I had to put a couple bullets in her to make her back off."

Isaac winced at that. "She'll try to take you out on the way home." He got up from the desk and eyed the dead body contemplatively. Considering. "I'll watch your back like I always do."

"And I'll count on it like I always do." Raine pulled out the bottle's cork and sniffed the contents before taking a long sip. "The Whip and Rust managed to secure Soichiro's son. The kid's scared but alive and Rust is keeping him calm. Marcus will want to see if he's able to take over for his father and keep this connection open. With all the people we lost on this operation, he'll want SOMETHING to show for it." He shook his head and took another drink, making a face. This brand was too flowery for his taste. Nonetheless he took a last deep swallow and tucked the bottle under his arm, approaching Isaac. "They fought like cornered rats today" he noted as Isaac knelt down beside Soichiro and gently closed his eyes. "We lost Ryan and Sanders. Stinger got her arm ripped off by that oni. And nearly everyone's got just a little bit ripped up." His eyes went to the blood on Isaac's head and he frowned. "Some of us are going to hit the hospital and then some bars before we catch a flight back" he said, reaching out and lightly touching Isaac's temple, peeling his sticky hair back to take a look at the wound. It was ugly and bloody but shallow. Still, it would bear looking after.

The dragon held still until his friend's inspection was finished, whereupon he straightened up and smiled. "I'll take you up on that. Better safe than dead of a blow to the head after all." Hefting the nodachi up onto his shoulder, he wrapped his free arm around Raine's back and squeezed him lightly. Holding him to his side for a moment, then flicking his eyes back to the deceased bear. He nodded his head to his erstwhile target once in a last gesture of respect and let the wolf lead him away and out of the room.

There was still much work to be done. Clean up. Body disposal. Smoothing things over with any nosy authorities. Speaking to the survivors, the newly made widow and her son. Ensuring that they understood the lesson that was delivered this day. Tying up any loose ends. In the middle of all this bustling the body of the ursine lay alone and forgotten in the remains of his office. Still and silent, in a pool of its own blood.

Then, long after the body had grow cold, a finger twitched. An arm stretched out joints popping with each move. Alone in the dark, with no one to see, a corpse began to sit up. Eyelids slowly raised to reveal a pair of empty, lifeless orbs that nonetheless burned with something. Determination? Revenge? Something eternal and deathless, and it drove Soichiro Daisuke to grasp the wreckage of his desk and slowly lift himself to his feet. He planted one big paw on his chest, noting the lack of a heartbeat and discarding it as irrelevent, and growled softly. His breath wheezed into his lungs and exhaled as memories assailed him. His whole life and death flashing through him in that instant. And his mind turned to Marcus St. James.

Soichiro bared his teeth menacingly. Unfinished business. "I...will not...kneel..." he growled and padded to the door, slipping out into the hallway and leaving only the remains of his life behind.