Stranded in the Future

Chapter Thirty-Four: Entertainment

Yomi-no-kuni (The Land of the Dead)

It was just Hideo's luck that he'd been assigned to manage the crowd at another one of the Underworld's weekly boxing competitions. He stood in front of a retractable queue barrier, ready to unsheathe his sword at any moment while shouting over the commotion in the sonorous voice he'd once reserved for when his children misbehaved.

"Listen, demons! I expect you to line up in an orderly fashion and present your tickets one at a time! Any horseplay, and I'll chop off your head! Do I make myself clear?"

Oni of all shapes, sizes, and colors stopped their pushing and grunting to stare at Hideo. Numerous bulging eyes widened in recognition before the horde obeyed by organizing themselves as best as they could.

Hideo let go of his sword's hilt, feeling glad that the example he'd made of last week's victim was still fresh enough of a memory for them to fear meeting the same fate. He nodded in approval when the first oni showed their ticket, then opened up the barrier to let them lumber through.

There were some who said that violence wasn't a legitimate way to instill order, but here in the Underworld, being soft was a guaranteed way to attract all kinds of misfortune. It was for this reason that Hideo still had doubts about bringing Ichiro to meet with Lady Misaki, since an oni swinging their club was all it would take to pulverize the young man and leave behind a vengeful kitsune.

Once the last attendee had been admitted, Hideo sought to enjoy the peace by reaching into his pocket for a cigarette like he'd done while alive. However, his fingers curled around nothing but smooth fabric, and he pulled his hand out with a groan. I shouldn't have picked up smoking again. Now I can't help myself...

Hideo raised his head and narrowed his eyes when he saw a short figure in a pale gold kimono shuffling past the barricades towards him. An expressionless Noh mask covered their face, though Hideo could guess the identity of his visitor. "Speak of the devil. Lady Misaki, I presume?"

The masked woman stopped within arm's length. She gave a firm nod, then replied with remarkable clarity for someone who had to wear a stifling disguise each time they left the palace of Izanami-no-Mikoto. "Do not say my name so carelessly. Have you forgotten the position I hold?"

Hideo was aware of the required etiquette when speaking with a court lady, but he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. "So, what? Try keeping brutish trolls in line for a day, and then we'll talk."

Lady Misaki tilted her head, causing her neck to emit a cracking sound. "Your disdain for others is the reason you have no friends. Tell me, has my brother changed his mind yet?"

"I'm afraid not." Hideo glanced at the door behind him while bellows and cheers sounded from within the stadium. "He remains doubtful for good reason. Once someone arrives in this realm, it becomes almost impossible to leave."

"You fool. That won't be a problem if he becomes a shinigami like you," Lady Misaki argued, reminding him of the plan she had proposed during their first meeting.

Hideo remembered his time in the mortal world and couldn't resist another chuckle. "Your brother isn't cut out for this job. He's a lover and not a fighter, and if I'll be honest, my daughter would be a much better fit. She's killed me twice without hesitation."

"I would never have taken you for a proud father," remarked Lady Misaki. "But my patience is running thin." She pulled a tied roll of paper from the pouch by her waist. "We may have to rethink our approach, so sign this when your shift ends."

Hideo had no choice but to accept. He could tell from the paper's thickness that it was a permit to enter the mortal realm, and he wasn't one to pass up another chance to see his daughter, even if she had become a murderous degenerate in his absence.