#undervalued assets

~~

Roppongi was always nice this time of year.

It wasn’t yet time for the winter illuminations, but other holiday decorations popped up here and there. In the meantime, waves of expats kept things from getting stale, bringing with them the most interesting conversations.

It's a shame Yuki couldn't see more of it, but travel's not the same when you're being chased. On this side of town, she was lucky to get any view of the city. All she had were the memories of past visits, superimposed on the brick wall outside the motel window.

She'd pawned the last of the Zen'ins' gifts, a series of gaudy things meant to gain her favor, and they weren't too pleased about that. When the other clans were still around, Yuki had never accepted their offers, only the bribes. Really, the Zen'ins only had themselves to blame for thinking they'd be the exception.

Once they discovered her goal was to break humanity away from cursed energy—thereby posing a threat to their main investments—the bounty was posted.

Yuki snatched the duffel bag off the tattered recliner. It was light as ever, bereft of souvenirs or keepsakes. She hadn't even bothered to unpack. Staying two nights was a mistake, but after months of this, she was running out of options and cash.

She made a beeline for the exit and found her motorcycle in the parking lot, squinting at its new visitor: a crow perched on the handlebar. 

“Go on. Get.” Yuki waved an arm at the bird to shoo it away.

The crow flapped one of its wings as if to mock her but didn't leave. Instead, it turned its back to her and displayed the white tube that had been strapped to it back—a striking color against the jet black feathers.

Her jaw ached from the sudden clench of teeth. Bile left a sour taste in the back of her throat. She'd never gotten a death threat via carrier bird before, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. Just in case, Yuki slipped on her riding gloves to unroll the letter.

Gold leaf bordered the stationery, turning amber in the sunlight. A crest—one Yuki could've sworn she'd seen before—was centered at the top of the page. Moving down to the letter's body, she was surprised to find not a threat, but an invitation.

~

Tsukumo Yuki,

Before you take off, I'd like to extend an exceptional business proposal to you. Given your current set of circumstances, I suspect you'll at least want to hear it out.

Meet me at the National Art Center at 4:00 p.m. I've reserved it for us.

Bring whatever weapons you like, if you can get them past the door. I will be unarmed.

— Mei Mei

~

Yuki's brows knit together. Just what did the world's wealthiest sorcerer want with her? On the one day that gallery's supposed to be closed, no less. Nothing about Yuki implied she was business savvy, but she’d be lying if she said this didn’t interest her.

It’d be out of order to attack each other in public, which would be a concern for someone who took appearance as seriously as Mei Mei. Plus, someone with a cash flow like hers was unlikely to be in anyone else's pocket.

The crow flew off, and the beating of its wings pulled Yuki out of her thoughts. She stuffed the note in the corner of her bag and checked the clock on her phone. If she left now, she could make it in time.

With scuffed boots, Yuki kickstarted her bike and made her way through traffic. Keeping to the speed limit irked her soul, but it had to be done for the sake of blending in. Even now, the distinct weight of a stranger's eyes settled on the back of her neck. She outpaced it the further she got into the city.

Before long, she pulled up to the art center. The entire front of the building was a wave of glass panels. The space was so open, so bright, it felt like she was under a microscope. Deeper inside, solid walls eventually replaced the glass. Breathing a little easier, she ran a finger along the clouded plaster, pocket knives stashed along each limb and two behind her back.

A couple of staff members greeted her, then made themselves scarce.

This month’s exhibit was a series of paintings by clergymen, each large-scale canvas a show of their devotion. Most of them were of blurred landscapes of the fields they tended or warmly-colored portraits of the townspeople. It wasn't really Yuki’s thing, but they'd be swapped out by her next visit.

In the main concourse, she found Mei Mei gazing up at the central painting—a grand feast shared by the city, the tyrant's skull left to rot under the table.

Yuki huffed a laugh, having found her favorite work of the series.

She took a moment to admire the woman before her. Mei Mei's silver pea coat cinched at the waist, a perfect complement to her tall leather boots. An elaborate bun rested above her neck, set in place with a hairpin. Her signature axe was out of sight—distantly, Yuki recalled that's where she'd first seen the crest—but Yuki knew better than to assume there was nothing else on her person.

When she rounded the gallery bench, the two exchanged polite smiles.

“Mei.”

“Tsukumo.”

“Yuki,” she corrected, and Mei Mei nodded. “You come here often, or are you just trying to impress me?”

Mei Mei chuckled. “I don’t visit as often as I’d like, but there’s always something that catches my eye. Although, seeing as you're here, I take it you have some interest in my venture.”

“We’ll see. But I’ve got a question for you first.” Yuki cracked an unruly smile. “What kind of girls are you into?”

Mei Mei lifted a thin brow. A host of questions gathered in her long draw of breath but she settled on one to voice. “Do you ask this to everyone you meet?”

The smile grew into a full beam. “I do, actually.”

Mei Mei's eyes roamed over Yuki with an appraiser's intensity. Yuki cocked her hip and let a hand rest on the curve, reveling in the gaze. It reached in, not unlike her initial question, and left a probing buzz in its wake. Yuki had been sized up before, but never like this. Never in a way that made exposure feel exhilarating.

After a deliberate pause, Mei Mei hummed appreciatively. “I like anyone who can keep up with me. In all ways.”

Not one to be put on the back foot, it seemed. Maybe this wouldn’t be a waste of time.

“About what I expected,” Yuki admitted, then plopped onto the bench. “Alright. Lay it on me.”

Mei Mei perched on the other end, legs crossed at the ankles. “How's your research going? I imagine it’s hard enough without that damned clan getting in the way.”

Yuki narrowed her eyes. Not a single interview reached the second stage. Her subjects were already hard to find, but now they were dropping left and right. Eventually, the pool of willing candidates dried up, which was the least surprising part of all this.

“It’s been a challenge,” Yuki said through gritted teeth. She relaxed her jaw. “What about it?”

“I have a solution that includes getting rid of the clan for good. You get your freedom, and I get to prove a point.”

The breath stalled in Yuki’s throat. Before she allowed herself to get swept up in such a promise, she glanced behind them, seeking out any eavesdroppers. She extended her jujutsu sense beyond her sight, around every corner, and into the upper rooms. The gallery was empty save for the two of them.

Voice low and conspiratorial, Yuki asked, “And just how are you gonna swing that?”

Mei Mei lifted her chin, her frown disdainful.

“They're shortsighted, arrogant, and have no eye for value. They’ve molded jujutsu society in such a way that discarding women and their talents is a matter of course. But if we were to find those same sorcerers—cultivate them—it would be more than enough to ensure their downfall.”

A sliver of fury cast its shadow over Mei Mei’s eyes. It was arresting in the same way one watched a storm gather on the coast. The longer she looked, the more goosebumps rose along Yuki’s arms. As the anger melted away, she tracked all the muscles that relaxed in Mei Mei's face.

“So much of their money is wrapped up in curse work,” Mei Mei added. “They've made it too easy to undermine them.”

“So that's why you called me here.”

Mei Mei nodded again. “I've got my eye on a few others, but your support is foundational.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you say no. I don't ask twice.”

There was a gleam in Mei Mei’s eyes that Yuki couldn't quite place. It rode the line between assured and haughty. Whatever it was, Yuki found it presumptuous.

Yuki held up her hands. “Well, I’m not a businesswoman. Surely, you know that.”

“You don't have to be. You were a sukeban.” A sharp, knowing smile brightened Mei Mei’s face. “I'd wager you still are, at least in temperament.”

“Look at you, doing your homework.” Yuki leaned back, letting her thumb trace the bench’s mahogany relief. “I’d have thought gangs would be the least of your interests.”

“At the very least, there’s something to be gained from the way they’re organized, the community of them.”

Yuki wouldn’t argue against that. There had been comfort in knowing someone would be there to cleanse her wounds, defend their territory, and punish any betrayal. It was a bond like no other, held together with razor blades and trust. That was a different time with different people, but a rush of nostalgia washed over her all the same. If the other women being considered were as good as she suspected, she couldn’t deny the potential.

“Just what's my part in all this?”

“You see to their training, I'll see to their future,” said Mei Mei. “As long as you hold up your end, not only would I let you continue your research, I'd give you anything you need to complete it.”

Anything looped itself in Yuki’s mind. Space, supplies, security. All had escaped her, all could be restored. Despite the temptation, unease churned in her gut.

“This is all well and good, but how do I know you're not just after my bounty, hm?” Yuki raised a brow. “Twenty billion yen is anyone's jackpot.”

“You're not valuable for the bounty.”

Yuki scoffed. “Says the richest woman in the country.”

Mei Mei shrugged. “Fair enough. I consider the bounty insurance, but your true value is in how well your goals align with mine.”

Her eyes swept Yuki’s face, studying her reaction. It was a more honest answer than Yuki had expected, yet still in line with Mei Mei’s projected values. That much, she didn’t bother hiding her appreciation for.

“For what it's worth, you seem like a woman of your word,” Mei Mei continued. “However, we are still strangers. You’re right to doubt me. I am asking a lot of you. So, I’ve prepared my own gesture of goodwill.”

Mei Mei inclined her head toward the parking garage and headed out. Yuki followed from a respectable distance. In keeping with the scarcity of staff, there were no company vehicles or maintenance crew to be seen. Although the air was a few degrees shy of winter, Yuki couldn't shake the chill of cursed energy as they approached an unmarked sedan.

If this was a trap, Mei Mei was terrible at hiding it.

A girl with blue hair and a freshly-pressed suit hopped out of the driver's seat. She bowed her head to the both of them, then stood at attention.

Mei Mei's eyes flicked to the trunk. “Miwa, if you would.”

Yuki stifled a laugh as Miwa fumbled multiple attempts to open the trunk without looking at it. But when the lock finally popped, all humor evaporated once the scent of blood struck Yuki's nose. Miwa lifted the trunk to reveal the corpses of two men, their chests gaping and eyes bulging. The icy bite of Mei Mei's cursed energy leaked from their wounds.

Yuki stepped closer for a better look. They'd been sorcerers—powerful ones, at that. The cursed energy that lingered in their systems had been concentrated around what was left of their vital organs. That was typical of hitmen, but it hadn't been enough to save them. The attacks had passed through so completely, she could see the trunk’s soiled lining through their ribs.

A low whistle flowed between her lips. Perhaps Mei Mei wasn’t as beholden to image as she’d first thought.

“I found them lurking around your…motel,” Mei Mei said, her tone laden with disgust.

Whether that disgust was for the motel or the men, Yuki could only guess.

Another crow perched on Mei Mei's shoulder. She clicked her tongue as she stroked along its neck, her finger lost in the glossy darkness of the feathers. The twist of her mouth gave way to something gentler when she caught Yuki's eye.

“I'm sure you could've handled them. If you stand with me, you won't have to.”

Yuki stared back at Mei Mei, shoulders lowering. It would be a relief to accept—an unburdening. No one can run forever, and that's nowhere near how she wanted to spend whatever time she had left.

Mei Mei didn't seem like the type to make such powerful enemies on a whim. As far-fetched as this plan was, she had just staked her life on it. The offer took root in Yuki's mind. It was a chance to either gain some ground or go down swinging. Those were options she could live with.

She drew herself up to her full height, grin returning to its rightful place. “You've got yourself a deal.”

Mei Mei hummed, pleased. “Glad to hear it.”

“What now?”

Mei Mei plucked a note from her breast pocket and handed it to Yuki. She unfolded it to reveal an address written in cursive she now recognized as Mei Mei’s.

“I'd already secured a base for us, but now I can expand it with confidence,” Mei Mei said. “In the meantime, I'll gather our next members. You’ll have a hand in their development, starting with Miwa.”

Miwa’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Yuki rested a hand on her hip and gave Miwa a proper once-over. The harder Miwa fought to maintain eye contact, the more erratically cursed energy moved within her. This girl looked like she'd faint from a cigarette burn. As a test, Yuki glared at her. And as expected, Miwa let off a small burst of unfocused and unrefined cursed energy.

Yuki huffed. “I don't take training lightly. She might die.”

Mei Mei patted the crown of Miwa's head. “She's young but diligent. Don't underestimate her.”

Miwa’s lips pressed into a thin line, an obvious attempt to tamp down her fear.

Yuki figured that counted for something.

“You use any weapons?”

“Yes, ma'am. A sword.”

“Bring it to the base tomorrow. 6 a.m. on the dot. Wear something you don't mind ruining.”

Miwa nodded.

“And don't call me ‘ma'am,’” Yuki added. “Save that for someone older.”

“Okay, miss.”

Miwa grimaced as soon as the words left her mouth. Yuki barked out a laugh.

“Not quite what I meant, but we'll work on it.”