el.the miko-第70部分

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hat　end　they　dispatched　two　thugs　to　return　her　to　her　proper　home　and；　if　that　were　not　practical；　to　exact　from　her　the　highest　possible　penalty　for　her　treacherous　deed。
　The　first　Akiko　suspected　that　she　was　being　followed　was　when　she　saw　two　shadows　moving　at　once；　one　slightly　ahead　of　her　and　one　perhaps　two　blocks　behind　her。　She　would　never　have　seen　the　shadows　at　all…for　they　were　absolutely　silent…　had　it　not　been　for　the　cat。　Four　tiny　kittens　had　been　suckling　at　the　cat's　distended　teats　when　Akiko　stumbled　into　her　territory　and；　startled；　she　had　arisen　and；　arching　her　back；　hissed　at　the　intruding　shape；　baring　her　teeth　and　glaring　carnelian　eyes　into　the　wan　light。
　Akiko　gasped；　her　heart　pounding　painfully　in　her　chest；　and　she　skidded　to　one　side；　her　head　and　shoulders　moving　away　from　the　angered　cat　even　as　her　feet　and　legs　were　still　sliding　along　the　pavement　toward　it。　That's　when　she　saw　the　twin　movements；　and　her　eyes　went　wide。
　She　pressed　herself　against　a　cool　wall；　looked　to　front　and　back。　Now　there　was　nothing。　Silence。　The　absence　of　traffic　was　eerie　and　not　even　a　koban；　a　police　call　box；　around。
　She　was　still　in　the　Asakusa　district；　filled　with　the　old　traditional　ways；　Tokyo's　last　remnants　from　ages　gone　by。　The　buildings　here　were　small　and　low；　of　wood　and　oiled　paper　as　they　once　had　been　throughout　Japan；　no　steel　and　glass　towers　as　in　other　sectors　of　the　city。
　Akiko；　her　heart　still　in　her　throat；　sidled　away　from　the　bristling　cat；　certain　now　that　the　long　arm　of　Fuyajo　was　stalking　her。　But　there　was　no　way　they　were　going　to　bring　her　back　to　that　hated　place；　she　decided。　She　would　die　first。　And　not　before　she　hurt　someone　badly。
　A　red　rage　beat　through　her　like　a　tide；　an　accumulated　sizzling　she　was　still　only　dimly　aware　of。　Quickly　she　knelt　down　and　as　she　did　so；　a　dark　flicker　came　to　the　corner　of　her　eye；　a　swift　blur　like　a　racing　cloud　obscuring　for　a　moment　the　face　of　the　moon。
　Unhesitatingly　she　opened　her　bamboo　suitcase　and　took　out　the　pistol。　It　was　fairly　small；　a　pearl…handled　。22　caliber；　well　oiled　and　in　good　operating　condition。　It　was　fully　loaded；　she　had　double…checked　that　before　she　had　removed　it　from　its　hiding　place　beneath　her　mother's　futon。　Why　Dean　would　have　such　an　implement　in　her　possession　Akiko　could　not　fathom；　but　the　day　she　had　discovered　it　more　than　a　year　ago　she　had　had　enough　sense　not　to　tell　anyone；　not　even　her　mother；　what　she　had　found。　And　tonight　she　had　not　wanted　to　leave　it　behind。　Now　she　knew　why。
　They　were　closing　in。　Akiko　swiftly　closed　her　suitcase　and　stood　calmly；　the　pistol　hidden　behind　her。　Curiously；　she　felt　no　fear。　She　had　been　born　into　the　night；　and　darkness　held　none　of　the　primitive　terror　it　did　for　many　people。　She　was　at　home　in　its　furtive　light　and　rather　enjoyed　the　anonymity　its　shadows　afforded　her。　Night　at　Fuyajo　would　find　her　rising　from　her　futon　to　roam　the　many　rooms　at　will；　honing　her　instincts　and　her　hand…eye　coordination；　stealthily　climbing　back　stairs　and　crawling　through　vent　passageways　in　order　to　observe　the　myriad　couples。
　One　came。　Lithe　and　slender；　he　blended　into　the　darkness　so　that　he　was　almost　upon　her　before　she　became　aware　of　his　presence。　She　turned　her　head；　startled　despite　herself；　giving　a　strangled　little　cry；　angry　with　herself　for　not　sensing　him　sooner。　
　〃What　do　you　want？〃　Her　voice　was　a　husky　whisper；　little　more　than　the　night　wind　which　rustled　the　leaves　of　the　cypress　above　her　head。
　Sound；　too；　could　betray　him；　so　he　remained　silent。　And　now；　unbidden；　Akiko　felt　fear　flutter　her　heart。　Her　eyes　were　open　wide；　the　pupils　dilated　to　their　maximum　as　she　peered　into　the　blackness　in　order　to　pick　out　some　tiny　gleam　that　would　make　of　him　something　more　than　a　wraith。
　〃I　know　you're　there；〃　she　said　softly；　willing　her　voice　not　to　tremble。　〃If　you　e　near　me；　I'll　kill　you。〃　But　despite　her　bravado；　she　began　to　tremble。　She　felt　chilled　to　the　bone　and　everything　around　her　seemed　strange　and　forbidding。
　On　the　verge　of　tears；　Akiko　made　a　decision。　She　knew　that　the　longer　she　waited　the　more　certain　it　was　that　she　would　lose　her　nerve。　Already　tremors　coursed　through　her　tightly　coiled　muscles；　wracking　her　like　ague。　It　was　now　or　never；　and　she　would　just　have　to　trust　her　eyes。　She　had　not　seen　him　move　from　the　patch　of　shadow　so　close　to　her　so　that　must　mean　that　he　had　not。　Visions　of　ghosts　and　shape…changing　creatures　were　for　children。
　I　am　afraid；　she　told　herself　in　the　calmest　inner　voice　she　could　summon　up。　But　he'll　kill　me　if　I　let　him　or；　at　the　very　least；　drag　me　back　to　Fuyajo；　which　would　certainly　be　worse　than　death。
　She　was　just　bringing　the　pistol　out　from　behind　her　when　she　felt　the　presence　to　her　left　and　thought；　The　second　one！　She　felt　pressure　on　her　larynx　and；　of　course；　reflexively　tried　to　breathe。　When　she　could　not；　panic　rose　within　her　and　she　cried　out；　bringing　the　pistol　up　in　a　blur；　her　forefinger　already　squeezing；　squeezing；　anything　to　get　oxygen　into　her　straining　lungs。
　The　roar　of　the　discharge　caused　her　to　scream　in　rage　and　fear。　Concussion　struck　her　eardrums　like　a　physical　blow　and　she　staggered；　already　retching　from　the　intense　stench　of　the　cordite　and　the　heat；　searing　and　instantaneous；　that　had　brushed　by　her　like　the　hand　of　death。
　Light　blinded　her　and　she　fetched　up　against　a　wooden　wall；　sliding　down　it　as　her　legs　gave　out。　Something　was　in　her　eyes　and　she　put　her　free　hand　up；　wiping　at　her　forehead。　Her　hair　was　matted　and　wet；　filled　with　grit　that　rolled　slickly　through　her　fingers。
　Blood　black　on　the　night；　its　coppery　stench　filling　her　nostrils；　making　her　gag　all　over　again；　making　her　wipe　again　and　again　at　her　face；　crying　now　in　great　gulping　sobs。
　A　shadow　looming　over　her　and　instinctively　she　brought　the　pistol　upward；　almost　all　control　gone　now　so　that　the　barrel　weaved　back　and　forth。　She　tried　to　get　at　the　trigger　again　but　her　finger　wouldn't　respond　to　her　mands　and　then　the　gun　was　gone　from　her　weakened　grasp　and　she　was　broken；　sobbing　still；　whispering　through　it；　〃Don't　take　me　back；　I　don't　want　to　go　back。〃
　Lifted　bodily　off　the　street；　a　breeze　against　her　hot；　streaked　cheek　for　an　instant　and　then　a　creak；　a　slam；　the　noises　of　a　bolt　being　shot　home　and　the　warmth　of　a　house；　stealing　over　her；　a　place　unfamiliar　but　only　one　fact　surfacing：　it　was　not　Fuyajo。
　Her　head　went　down。。。
　A　face　swam　into　view；　like　the　man　in　the　moon；　pockmarked　and　huge；　descending　through　a　network　of　sere　branches　as　spiky　as　a　stag's　antlers。
　Akiko　cried　out；　tried　to　throw　her　arms　across　her　face　to　protect　it。　She　had　the　sensation　of　falling　and　shooting　forward　at　the　same　time；　spinning　like　a　leaf　in　the　wind；　toppling　from　the　safety　of。。。　what？
　The　man　in　the　moon　lifted　away；　and　it　was　like　a　weight　being　pulled　off　her　chest。
　〃Is　this　better？〃　The　voice　was　soft　and　lilting；　a　country　accent。
　〃I　can't。。。　breathe。〃　Her　voice　was　like　a　rodent's　squeak　and　she　realized　that　her　mouth　and　throat　were　so　parched　that　she　could　not　summon　up　saliva。
　〃In　time　you　will　be　able　to　do　everything。〃　The　man　in　the　moon　smiled；　or　so　it　seemed　to　Akiko。　She　still　had　trouble　seeing　as　if　she　were　peering　through　a　windowpane　streaked　with　running　rainwater。
　〃You　look　blurry；〃　she　whispered　through　cracked　lips。
　〃When　you　stop　crying；〃　the　gentle　voice　told　her；　〃you　will　no　longer　have　that　problem。〃
　She　slept　for　a　time　after　that；　sliding　down　into　a　vertiginous　whirlpool；　a　troubled　slumber　in　which　her　fear；　brought　to　the　surface；　would　not　allow　her　to　slip　deeply　into　unconsciousness。
　Rather；　she　fought　in　a　series　of　battle…scarred　dreams；　on　the　cusp　of　sleep；　her　eyelids　fluttering　constantly；　her　limbs　thrashing　and　twitching　like　a　dog's。
　When；　at　last；　she　awoke　it　was　near　night　again　and　it　was　as　if　no　time　had　passed　though；　in　reality；　more　than　eighteen　hours　had　elapsed　from　her　ordeal　in　the　street。
　〃Where　did　you　get　this　weapon？〃
　It　was　the　first　question　he　asked　her。　She　knew　the　answer　of　course；　but　the　effort　required　in　opening　her　mouth　and　translating　thought　into　speech　seemed　beyond　her。
　He　put　an　enormous　lopsided　wooden　bowl　of　larmen　dosanko　in　front　of　her　and；　sitting　cross…legged　on　the　tatami　beside　the　futon　on　which　she　lay；　laced　his　fingers　beneath　his　chin　and　contemplated　her　silently。
　Akiko　rose　to　her　haunches。　The　scent　of　the　steaming　noodle　soup　was　overpowering；　blotting　out　all　other　sensation　or　thought。　Only　when　she　was　finished　eating　did　she　notice　the　sleek　metal　and　pearl　of　the　pistol　lying　by　his　side。　It　was　this　he　was　referring　to　when　he　had　asked　her　the　question。
　She　looked　back　at　the　rumpled　futon。　Its　fabric　was　light　but　in　spots　deep；　rust…colored　stains　had　turned　the　beautiful　cotton　leathery　and　stiff。　The　sight　set　Akiko's　heart　to　hammering　again；　and　something　must　have　showed　in　her　eyes　because　the　man　sitting　across　from　her　smiled　and　said；　〃You　have　nothing　to　fear　from　me；　Kodomo…gunjin。〃
　Akiko　put　her　fingertips　up　to　the　right　side　of　her　forehead；　near　her　hairline。　A　cessation　of　hunger　had　made　her　aware　of　a　painful　pulsing　there。　She　felt　the　bulge　of　a　bandage。　〃Why　do　you　call　me　Little　Soldier？〃
　〃Perhaps；〃　he　said　softly；　leaning　forward　to　push　the　pistol　across　the　tatami　toward　her；　〃for　the　same　reason　you　carry　this　weapon。〃
　He　cocked　his　head。　It　was　no　wonder　she　had　first　thought　of　him　as　the　man　in　the　moon　for　his　face　was　as　round　as　a　full　moon's；　with　pockmarked　cheeks　and　a　flat　Chinese　nose。　He　had　a　long；　wispy　mustache　drooping　down　around　the　corners　of　his　mouth　but　little　other　hair。　Overall　his　face　seemed　as　soft　as　raw　dough。
　He　bowed　now。　〃I　am　Sun　Hsiung。　How　may　I　call　you？〃
　〃You　have　already　named　me；　haven't　you？　Kodomo…gunjin。〃
　He　nodded。　〃As　you　wish。〃
　She　leaned　forward　and　took　the　pistol　off　the　tatami。　It　seemed　quite　heavy　to　her　now。　She　did　not　look　at　him　when　she　spoke　next。　〃What　happened。。。　last　night？〃
　Sun　Hsiung　put　his　forearms　on　the　points　of　his　knees。　〃You　shot　the。。。　man　who　was　holding