They were a study in contrasts, and yet there were things in common: a strong set of jaw, the steady gaze, the proud carriage, if you knew what to look for.
'It will be easier for you to protect him elsewhere,' the Chairman said, somewhat sadly.
'To protect him from what, Shigeda-sama? Is there a threat I should know about?'
'There is always a threat, Yojimbo, but yes, I have heard rumors. Others may move against me. When that happens, it would be best if Tomashi were elsewhere.'
'Yes, Chairman,' the bodyguard said with a bow. It was the only possible reply.
'Go and pack what you need. I will speak to my son alone. You will leave tonight.'
'Yes, Chairman,' he bowed deeply and backed out of the room, the doors whispering open behind him, then sliding closed, cutting off his last view of the study and the man he had served his entire life.
Yojimbo, he was called, 'bodyguard,' in the old Japanese fashion. It wasn't a name, merely a title, no different than calling a chair a chair or a sword a sword. Tomashi called him Kage, 'shadow,' his ever-present companion since he was allowed out of his mother's sight, his ever-present champion. Kage Yojimbo, shadow bodyguard. His life was lived in the shadows: the shadows of other men, the shadows cast by the gumi, the Shigeda clan.
His quarters were even more Spartan than the Chairman's study: just a sleeping mat, a wall cabinet for weapons and personal items, and a small, recessed closet. Necessary displays and the like were all virtual, projected via his headware and commlink as they were needed, although they rarely ever were in here.
There was little actual packing to do: Yojimbo kept necessities packed and ready to go at a moment's notice. Still, he welcomed the order as an opportunity to take a few precious minutes to himself to gather his thoughts more than his meager possessions. He would take his essential weapons, of course: the matched Fichetti security pistols with extra magazines, collapsible shock baton, the concealable ceramic and carbon fiber blade. The Chairman hadn't mentioned the need for heavy ordinance, or else he would have provided it. Besides which, Kage was his own best weapon.
You were made to be his perfect companion and protector… The Chairman's words were truth. Kage closed the door of the cabinet and looked down at his hand, flexing it slowly as if seeing it for the first time, feeling the power of the myomer-fiber enhanced muscles, the nano-composite laced bone. He recalled the middleman's throat, held in his vice-like grasp, dangling off the floor…
'Did you fuck her?' Tomashi asked. He recalled the woman, half-covered in the forgotten sheet, all her attention fixed on him, her dark eyes bottomless pools. He remembered the gun in her hand from underneath the sheet, how easily he took it from her, stepping in, grabbing the hand holding the gun faster than the eye could follow, pinning the wrist in a vice-like grip. He could have broken it with just a twist or a squeeze, could have pushed her down, but he didn't. She didn't beg for mercy or even look away, capturing his eyes with hers. She pressed the gun into his hand instead.
'You know what you have to do,' she said, and it had taken him aback. Did she want to die? Her tone was different, haunted. Then he saw the neural socket behind her ear, the particular glimmer to her eyes. She was bunraku, a flesh-puppet, her brain wired with software to make her whatever fantasy her client wanted. Was it the software speaking to him, or the true woman coming through? His hand closed around his own Fichetti pistol, alone in his room, recalling how he had gripped the gun, taking it from her unresisting hand, and stepped back.
'Do what you have to do,' she said in the same tone, not looking down or away for what seemed like a very long time. It was Kage who finally broke their gaze. He turned and walked out, leaving the woman behind. Tomashi was going to be disappointed, and worse, angry at him, not only for the witness he left behind, but for the opportunity he passed up to improve the 'show' for him. But Kage found he didn't care.
'Your service has been right and honorable…' the Chairman had said, and hot tears stung the bodyguard's eyes. If only Shigeda-sama knew. He was as much a whore as that woman, as much a puppet for the entertainment of a spoiled child. The boy Shigeda's wife adored beyond all reason, the boy the oyabun indulged, the boy Kage swore to protect with his life's blood. With the sim-rig, Tomashi was inside of him, as surely as if…
The sound of the gunshot had Kage moving almost before he was aware of it, a lifetime of training taking over in an instant. As he ran down the corridor, pistol in hand, there came a second shot, then a third. He counted five by the time he reached the doors of the Chairman's study and they obediently slid open for him.
Shigeda-sama sat behind the low desk, blood spread dark across the front of his immaculate dress shirt, his face frozen in an expression of shock, mouth open, and eyes wide. He hadn't even had time to call out.
When the doors opened, Tomashi turned towards Kage, gun held before him like a talisman, twin of Kage's own.
'Do what you have to do,' he muttered, finger tightening on the trigger as he raised the weapon. He jerked and the shot went wide when the bodyguard's first bullet took him in the eye, staggered back towards the desk, then sprawled across it when another shot hit him in the chest, then another. He was laid out in front of his father, gun falling from his nerveless fingers to the floor with a clatter. The older man's head was thrown back, mouth open, as if in mourning.
Time started again. Kage took in the bloody tableau for what seemed like an eternity, dimly aware of the sounds of alarm in the house, of people shouting and running. Then awareness opened like a flower blooming in his mind and he turned away, scooping up the fallen Fichetti and letting the panel doors close over the scene. It was more than just fortunate that he was packed and ready to go. It was providence.
'You will leave tonight,' the Chairman had said. His words were truth.
The design of the low desk in the Chairman's office was modern and Western, its dark glass surface a standard display and touch interface. Kanaga Sato brushed aside newsfeed windows and status reports with a flick of his fingers, scattering them like neon leaves as an incoming comm window opened from the dark depths of the glass.
'It is done?' a man's voice asked in Japanese, and the kobun nodded. 'Good. Oversee the investigation. When the dust settles, you will have my support… Chairman-san.'
'Thank you, Shotozumi-sama,' Kanaga said with a slight bow towards the desk. The window closed, leaving only his reflection in the dark depths.
The slow smile spreading across the kobun's thin-lipped mouth froze at the press of something cold and sharp against the side of his throat. He didn't turn around, barely moved except to slide his right hand slowly over…
'Don't,' came the flat voice from just behind his left ear, the pressure on the blade increased just slightly. The hand stopped, hovering where it was.
'Yojimbo,' Kanaga said quietly. 'You're still here.'
'Was I expected to run?' the bodyguard replied softly. 'Was that how it was planned?'
'I don't…' the bladed pressed again, and he stopped, swallowed.
'I know this place better than anyone,' Kage continued, 'well enough to know how difficult it would be for an assassin to get in without help.'
'Assassin?' Kanaga said in mock surprise. 'Everyone knows what happened, or soon will. After all, your weapons were used in the killings. Tomashi…'
'Tomashi had his bad qualities,' Kage said, 'but one thing he could never do was stand up to his father. He wouldn't-couldn't-have done this on his own. He wasn't in his right mind when…'
'When you killed him?'
'When you forced me to kill him.'
'How do you know I had anything to do with it?'
'I didn't, for certain, until just now. I only suspected.' Kage's free hand touched the edge of the desktop, out of the corner of Kanaga's field of vision. 'Oyabun Shotozumi-sama seemed pleased.'
Kanaga swallowed slowly. 'And now you're here for revenge?' he asked.
'No, answers.'
'To what?'
'How… and why?'
'I think you know the second one already.'
