“Stand up straight, James-san,” Professor Toei hissed. “Try to look like a proper young gentleman, at least.”

  James didn’t glare at his teacher—he’d get upbraided for that as well. Instead, he tried to square his shoulders and resist adjusting his tie.

  For James, used to the free and easy ways of Californian schools, the transition to uniforms and formal dress codes had taken no small amount of adjustment. It wasn’t just that the uniforms could be stiff and uncomfortable; it was all the unwritten and unstated rules about when the codes could be relaxed. Someone like Ozu Shion, who was almost never in compliance, could skate through by avoiding the teachers she couldn’t bully into letting her offences slide.

  That did mean she was absent from some of the classes she shared with James. After only three weeks, her name was called out each day with no expectation of a reply. It would hurt her grades, but James didn’t think that academic results were a priority for her.

  The point was, there were some places and times when it was okay to relax, and some places and times where it wasn’t. James should have guessed that walking in the front door of the Hirasaka Agency with his teacher was one of the latter type, but in fairness, this was the first time he’d ever visited a shadowy government agency.

  The others didn’t have this problem. Mitsue’s ninja training had probably involved three days going without sleep while standing at attention and having knives thrown at him. Kana’s default posture was ramrod straight, coupled with a haughty glare. And no one could look at Suki and complain about her posture. It just wasn’t possible.

  Harue would have had problems, but Harue had declined to attend, much to Professor Toei’s relief. James wouldn’t have put it past her to have snuck along with them somehow, but she had seemed serious about avoiding the spirit police. James was about sixty percent sure it wasn’t an act.

  Professor Toei parked the school car—another Bentley, identical to the one on school grounds—in a secured parking lot, and the group walked the few blocks to the agency. According to Professor Toei, it gave the agency a chance to see them coming. And it also gave the professor one last chance to reprimand James for his posture.

  “It just looks like an ordinary office building,” James said as they approached.

  “Modern skyscraper construction is remarkably suitable for hiding secure facilities,” Mitsue told him. “They already contain a central core that supports the bulk of the building. This can be expanded, leaving space for your secret base while the outer shell of offices is almost completely separated. By putting the entrance to the inner core on a higher floor, you can force intruders to go through several floors' worth of defences.”

  “Is that true?” James asked Professor Toei, who grunted.

  “Modern construction is hardly a specialty of mine,” he said. “I suppose we’ll see when we get inside.”

  The group were met in the lobby by a pair of Japanese salarymen. They recognised Professor Toei as soon as he entered, took three steps towards him, and then bowed.

  They weren’t actually identical. They just wore identical suits and had the same standard Japanese haircut. They had about the same build, and they almost managed to move in unison.

  Their faces were different, which James was able to note once the bowing ceremony had finished. There were no introductions, and they skipped the traditional exchange of business cards. That struck James as odd, but this was a secret police agency after all. Professor Toei presumably had all the contact details he was likely to get.

  “If you would come this way, the Director is waiting in the conference room,” one of them said. They both had facial scars, so James dubbed this one Lower-jaw and the other one Forehead.

  Professor Toei nodded. “Please, lead the way.”

  The two led the group to the elevators. One of them nodded to the receptionist, who must have done something, because the elevator opened as they approached.

  Japanese elevator etiquette was much stricter than the American style that James was used to. Their escorts positioned themselves at the front, one against each side, leaving a wide lane for Professor Toei to stride through on his way to the back of the elevator. The rest of the group occupied the middle. Despite standing near the buttons, Lower-jaw didn’t push any of them. The doors closed, and the lift started moving all on its own.

  James didn’t really get the nuances, but he did know that he was supposed to stare at the door and not say anything.

  “This way, sir,” Lower-jaw said, bowing. He led the group into what almost looked like a normal office. There were desks, computers and whiteboards. People were doing normal office activities: typing, talking, staring intently at screens. It would have all been entirely normal— if not for the swords.

  It wasn’t that everyone was wearing swords, not even most of them. It only took a few guys, swaggering around in a business suit with a pair of swords hanging from their hip, to give the place a surreal air.

  And yet, when his group exited the elevator and made their way through the open plan towards the conference room, the stares made it clear that they were the unusual ones. James got stared at a lot in Japan, but he’d never felt so self-conscious.

  They made it to the conference room without incident. James noted as they went in that it was the inebana conference room, named after the rice flower.

  Three people were waiting for them in the room, two older men and a younger woman. They rose from their seats when James’s group entered, and the whole introduction ceremony started again. James mostly tuned it out, only making sure to bow at the correct points and also noting that the two men were introduced as Director Tanabe and Section Chief Nakahara. The woman was not introduced, and James gathered that she was only there to take notes.

  It took a while for the preliminaries to be completed and for everyone to be seated, but eventually Professor Toei was able to bring up the reason they were there.

  “So,” he started. “Can I assume that no impediments to our deal have cropped up?”

  Director Tanabe chuckled. He was a little older than the section chief and wore a better suit. “A bold assumption when dealing with government bureaucracy, but you are correct. Our standard protocol for allowing access to the vault requires that guests be escorted by a field agent. We’re just waiting for him to arrive.”

  “I see,” Professor Toei said.

  “However,” Section Chief Nakahara put in. “While we wait, we would like to see this security breach in operation for ourselves.”

  The professor blinked. “Of course.”

  He put his briefcase on the desk and opened it, pulling out the compass.

  “If you would be so kind, Konoe-san,” he asked, handing her the device.

  As soon as she touched it, the compass needle swung to point at the centre of the building. The two bureaucrats stared at it with unhappy faces.

  “I doubt your vaults are at this level, though, so would you be so good as to tilt it on its side?” Professor Toei requested.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Kana shrugged and held the device sideways. The needle moved, pointing at a steep downward angle.

  “I see,” Director Tanabe said sourly. “And you say that this is pointing to a specific item within our collection.”

  “That is what I believe,” Professor Toei said. “Of course, I don’t know what is in your collection, so this is just supposition on my part. Each person registered to the Warrior causes the compass to point in a different direction. This location was the easiest to identify, and so it is the one we are examining first.”

  Director Tanabe grunted. “I suppose we don’t have a choice if we wish to learn more.” He nodded at Nakahara, who spoke into an intercom.

  “Send Sugiyama-san up.”

  There was an awkward silence while they waited. It didn’t take long, but it felt like forever to James.

  Finally, there was a knock on the door, and another Japanese person entered. He was a younger man, and he wore a pair of swords at his waist.

  “Director Tanabe, Section Chief Nakahara, honoured gue—”

  His greeting cut off midword as he stared at Kana. Then he lunged for what looked like a fire alarm on the wall.

  “Dragon!” he yelled as he pulled the lever down.

  White smoke began to pour from the ceiling.

  “Kazuo! What is the meaning of this?” Nakahara demanded, jumping to his feet. Then everything started to go far away.

  James heard a slamming sound that drowned out whatever Kazuo was going to say. The table was sliding past his face—moving so quickly. James reached out to grab it, but missed. The carpet was so soft.

  Everything went dark, except for the voices. James could hear them, but he couldn’t understand.

  The voices faded away until there was only one.

  “…not have to fake a medical condition at this point. James! Your eyes are moving! Does that mean you can hear me?”

  “I…” James forgot the next word, decided to skip it. “…hear you.”

  The blackness was lifting now, and James was starting to see again. Someone was right in his face, looking at him. Someone he knew.

  “Mitsu…” he started. “Mitsu…bishi.”

  The face broke into a wry smile, which James didn’t think was right. Cars weren’t supposed to smile, unless they were in that movie. What was it called?

  “Close,” the face said. “It’s Mitsue. Can you stand?”

  James frowned. He didn’t think there was a movie called Mitsue. He did know that name, though. What was called Mitsue? Was it… Oh, that’s right, his roommate was called Mitsue. That meant…

  “Oh! You’re Mitsue!” James declared. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

  “It’s part of my escape plan,” Mitsue explained. That made perfect sense, so James started fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. At least his tie was gone. He hated that tie.

  “I think you might have had a bad reaction to the gas,” Mitsue said. James wasn’t listening; he was trying to remember how fingers worked. “You don’t need to undress yourself. I used my clothes to cover the cameras in here.”

  Mitsue gestured to the corners of the ceiling. James didn’t look. He had managed to get his shirt off and was trying to figure out his pants.

  “With no eyes on the room, they will be forced to come in and—James, you don’t need to take off your pants!”

  James looked at Mitsue in confusion. He already had one leg out; should he put it back in? Or should he finish the process before reassessing? He was spared from deciding by the clunk of the door unlocking.

  “Hey, what are you kids doing in here?” the man in uniform demanded as he entered. “You’re supposed to be sleeping it off, not—”

  He stopped as he saw James in his underwear, trousers held in one hand. James looked around wildly. Mitsue had disappeared! He’d already escaped!

  James wasn’t going to be left behind.

  “Escaping!” he yelled, tossing his pants at the guard. Then he charged forward.

  “Hey! Stop!” was all the man managed to get out before they both went down in a tangle of flailing limbs. James got up first and ran for the door.

  “Hey! You can’t—” was all that James heard before the door closed mysteriously behind him. James didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He had to escape.

  The corridor he’d burst into looked like a hospital ward, with plain white walls and a linoleum floor. It was lined with doors on both sides, but James knew that none of them would hold the exit. They would only be cells like the one he’d escaped from.

  “That was a nice tackle, James, but—” James didn’t stop to listen. The voice from behind him sounded like Mitsue, but Mitsue was ahead of him. This could only be one of his pursuers. He dashed off down the hallway. A muttered curse from behind him told him that he’d made the right decision and only just avoided capture.

  James ignored the shouts from behind him and kept running. He looked for where Mitsue might have gone. He dashed around a corner, and there it was. An air duct!

  Ninjas always hid in air ducts. James had to leap up to grab the grill and pull it free. Then he had to leap again to pull himself in.

  “James-san, no! What are you doing?” came from behind him, but James didn’t stop. He couldn’t be stopped! Crawling on his belly like a snake, he shimmied himself down the metal conduit. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew the way to freedom!

  Wrapped in the stifling dark of the air ducts, James felt secure. No one knew he was in here. Just like a ninja, he could crawl all around the building, with no one the wiser.

  Scattered echoes of conversations came to him. He listened intently, knowing that they would be the key to his escape.

  “…Supposed to be perfectly safe…”

  “…Never seen a reaction like that before…”

  “…Do you suppose there might be a pre-existing condition?”

  “…How are we going to get him out?”

  None of them were what he needed. He kept crawling and listening until he heard it. Professor Toei’s voice!

  “…Don’t… thinking… supposed… side…”

  He was further away than the other voices, but James could always crawl some more. He was like a snake. A solid snake.

  The voices were becoming clearer. Professor Toei was talking with someone. He sounded familiar.

  “Have to understand… security precautions… “

  “Dragon, but… student!…”

  “…previous operation… dangerous…”

  Finally, he was there. Above the room, peering through the grate. They were looking up, but they couldn’t see him. He was unseen and undetectable.

  There was a knock on the door, and a flunky came in.

  “Sir, there’s been a problem with the—”

  There was a sound of tearing metal, and the floor lurched under James. Everyone looked up in alarm.

  Then, the ducting tore free from its support. One end dropped down, and James slid out, falling ignominiously into the room.

  “James-san?” Professor Toei exclaimed incredulously. “What are you doing?”

  James looked up at the professor blearily. “Freedom!” was all he managed to say before collapsing.

  * * *

  “I don’t know who should be more embarrassed, them or us,” Professor Toei said as he drove them back to the airport. “Well, you, obviously,” he said to James.

  “That’s not fair, I was drugged or something!” James protested.

  “Or something,” Professor Toei agreed. “At least we were able to do the inspection while you were recovering from… your recovery.”

  “In fairness, professor,” Mitsue said. “I don’t know what we were supposed to expect when we woke up in a cell.”

  “The building has limited medical facilities,” Professor Toei explained. “They ran out of beds once their own staff, the two girls and I were taken care of. They were supposed to be keeping a watch on you two, but…”

  “Standard procedure when rendered unconscious by the enemy is to conceal that you have woken up,” Mitsue said. “I faked my incapacity until they left the room.”

  “And the rest, as they say, is history. Or at least an amusing video to play at the end-of-year office party,” Professor Toei said.

  “Um, so you found the other power stone?” James asked, eager to change the subject.

  “We identified it,” Professor Toei corrected. “It turned out to be an artifact that they had some knowledge of. Which is unfortunate.”

  “Why is that?” Suki asked.

  “If it were an artifact with no known purpose, they might have been more willing to hand it over,” Professor Toei told her. “This one… It’s known as ryūkoku no ya —the Arrow of Time.”

  “It might be more accurate to call it a dart, but it is shaped like a proper arrow,” Kana said. “It is just small, about as long as your sword is when it is on the necklace.”

  “It isn’t meant to be thrown or fired. It is supposed to increase the bearer’s speed, making them unbeatable in combat,” Professor Toei said. “At the cost of a reduced lifespan.”

  Kana snorted. “Sounds like a problem that humans have,” she said. “No dragon or yōkai has anything to fear.”

  “Does that suggest that the builders of the Jade Warrior were immortal?” Suki asked.

  “If they were, they didn’t stick around to tell us about it,” Professor Toei said bitterly. “The upshot of all this is that while the ryūkoku no ya is considered too dangerous to use, they want to keep it around for emergencies. They won’t hand it over easily.”

  “Disappointing as that news is,” Suki said. “Are we getting an explanation of why that agent triggered the… security lockdown?”

  “Ah, well, you saw it,” the professor said. “Their agent identified Konoe-san as a dragon and panicked.”

  He grimaced. “I even told them I would be bringing yōkai. They told me that it was because she was new, and their records would be updated. From now on, Konoe-san will no longer be considered an immediate danger to the public.”

  “That is impossible,” Kana stated. “My disguise was perfect. He could not have detected me.”

  “Assuming that is correct—and it might not be, Konoe-san, the world is bigger than you know—then one possibility springs to mind.”

  “What is that?” Suki asked.

  “He might have witnessed Konoe-san turning into a dragon at some prior time.”

  “She has not done that often, and there were rarely witnesses when she did,” Mitsue said thoughtfully. “Not counting that time in the Night Market, there was just… oh.”

  “Yes,” the professor said grimly. “That time she transformed under a sniper’s scope. I think we’ve found the organisation that has gained access to dragon-killing bullets.”

  “That is hardly the right term for them,” Kana said. “I made a full recovery. Also, that never happened.”