Gatekeepers 21 Fan Fiction ❯ Tokyo Knight ❯ Stillness ( Chapter 1 )

Tokyo Knight

Disclaimer: I don't own Gatekeepers 21 or any of the characters from it. I've just borrowed them for a time. They actually belong to Studio Gonzo.

Part I: Stillness

A couple sat under a tall oak, gazing at the stars above. The man was in his mid-thirties, with close-cropped black hair and dark, piercing eyes. The woman was perhaps a few years younger, with long blond hair and blue eyes. The man's suit jacket hung open, revealing the butt of a silver-trimmed black handgun. The woman's coat lay on the ground and an ivory-handled silver pistol with ebony trim gleamed in a shoulder holster.

'I still don't understand why the Company transferred us to Osaka. It was bad enough bouncing us around the States, but at least I could afford a decent steak there.' The woman had a gentle voice with a hint of steel underneath. Her companion sighed and turned to her.

'Do we have to talk about this now? We've gone over this before. We're the only agents available who know Japanese. All the rest had already been assigned to other clients. Just be glad you don't have a soy or rice allergy. Who're you? What do you want?' What seemed to be a slim man wearing a long beige trenchcoat had materialized at the foot of the hill and was walking towards them. A broad-brimmed hat concealed its face. As it approached, the couple saw that the newcomer was wearing dark sunglasses and gloves; its skin was the colour of granite. When it spoke, its voice was hollow, inhuman.

'Come to our world.'

The man replied lazily, 'I like this one just fine, thanks. Go bug someone else.'

'Come to our world.'

'I said we're not interested.'

'Then I'll take you there!' Masses of black tentacles shot out from the being's eyes towards the couple. A shot rang out before they were halfway to their targets. The 'man in black (well, beige)' fell with half its head missing. There was no blood. A moment later, the body evaporated, leaving a many-pointed pink crystal star. It glowed faintly. The woman picked it up.

'How pretty.' The man was looking around for more possible threats, his gun still smoking.

'Come to our world. Come to our world. Come..' A phalanx of the trenchcoated beings was advancing up the hill.

'Damn! We're surrounded and there're too many to kill. At least we're going out together.' The man kissed his wife one last time and unloaded his gun at the front rank. A dozen bodies fell to the ground. The woman took down twelve more on the other side of the ring. They reloaded.

'Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Des-...' Chanting, their attackers halted and pulled back their trenchcoats to reveal bristling gun barrels. They fired.

'What the hell?!' Pink rings of light struck the man and woman, exploding on impact. The 'men' departed in silence, leaving scorched earth, charred splinters, and the smell of burning flesh. About ten minutes later, a fire engine and several police cars pulled up.

My parents died the summer before my junior year of high school. They'd just been transferred to Osaka, and they'd decided to go out and have some fun, just the two of them. I'd stayed in the hotel room and tried to watch tv, but it only had ridiculous game shows and worse soap operas. I gave up and picked up my copy of the Iliad instead. The call came around midnight. The cop said they'd died in a freak gas main explosion. The fingerprints on their guns were all that identified them.

I don't know how long I cried, or when I finally fell asleep, but the sun had risen by the time I woke up. My practical side had kicked in; I felt hollow inside, but I had things to do before I could grieve. I had an uncle in Tokyo-my dad's younger brother-I could probably stay with him until something more permanent could be set up. Our rooms were paid up for the rest of the week, with meals, and the hotel did not give refunds. We had enough in traveler's checks and cash for a train ticket and to tide me over for a week ('Life moves on, so move with it,' they always said). I called my uncle to tell him about my parents' deaths. He invited me to stay as long as I needed to. I went out after hanging up.

My first stop was the police station where the bodies (what was left of them, anyway) had been taken. There was no criminal investigation, so an officer handed their personal effects over to me-their guns, holsters, ammo, and wedding rings were all that survived. He asked me if I wanted to see the bodies. I nodded. All that was left were fragments of charred bone and a few lumps of scorched flesh.

'What do you want to do with the bodies?'

'I'll be back with an urn.' He gave me the address of a mortuary on the other side of town-he'd used it for his mother a few years back. I strapped the guns on in a restroom on my way out.

I stopped by a bank first to trade the travelers' checks for cash ('Money talks, but make sure you're speaking the right language,' was my dad's advice for traveling)-about six thousand's worth, American. Another thousand or so already in cash. It made me a bit nervous, carrying that much money on me, but the guns' weight under my jacket was reassuring. My parents had been teaching me to shoot since I was twelve and I was pretty good (Their most important lesson: 'Never draw if you don't mean to kill.').

The mortuary owner offered her condolences with the air of one familiar with grief and how to ease it. She expressed surprise at my request for an urn without a cremation. Then she noticed my resemblance to my father's picture in the news.

She tried to gouge me outrageously at first-I'd had to flash some cash to get service-counting on my youth and grief to make me an easy mark: asking the equivalent of three thousand, US, for a plain white urn too small for a squirrel. It looked like a chamber pot. An hour later, I laid down fifteen hundred for a decent-sized blue and gold one. I returned to the morgue, gathered what I could of my parents' bones, and asked the police to dispose of the rest. The officer who had shown me the bodies told me that their lawyer would contact me that night.

He called at 2 AM (10 AM LA time). I wasn't happy, but I wasn't surprised, either: Leo Davenport was a great lawyer, but just a bit absentminded about things like time zones. He was genuinely saddened by my parents' deaths and he informed me of the terms of their will with great regret. Before they'd left for Osaka, they'd appointed my uncle in Tokyo my guardian in case they died. He would hold a couple hundred thousand in trust for me until I turned twenty-one; he was authorized to use that money to defray the expense of raising me. Their life insurance policies left me a few hundred thousand more. There was also some real estate and a few bequests to friends and relatives, mostly furniture and such.

I spent most of the next day reading-I could more or less understand the newspaper and I had brought a fair number of English books. After dinner, I stashed most of my money in the secret compartment of Dad's suitcase-the one designed to fry anyone with the wrong fingerprints-and went out, carrying his pistol and my wallet. Tokyo had a rather high crime rate that summer.

As I walked through an empty alley towards a club the waiter had recommended, a crowd of thin men in trenchcoats, fedoras, and dark glasses appeared in front of me. I turned around, but more had come up behind me. Something told me they were unnatural, inhuman. Their voices confirmed the thought: 'Come to our world. Come to our world. Come...'

'Stay away from me!' I'd drawn the pistol without noticing. I didn't have enough bullets to kill them all (two clips and the one in the gun-thirty seven rounds total), but a few casualties should make them retreat. They advanced slowly in a line. 'I swear I'll kill the first sonuvabitch who gets past that ladder!'

And I did. He went down missing the right side of his face, though no blood came from the wound. They kept coming. Two more fell; they vanished, leaving pink crystal stars on the ground. Ten more followed them and the gun clicked empty. I reloaded and backed against a wall, trying to cover both sides. They might kill me, but I'll take a few of these bastards with me.

They stopped. As one, they pulled back their trenchcoats and a dozen gun barrels appeared from each 'chest.'

'Die!' I fired blindly now. I knew I was going to die, and I didn't care. Something snapped inside, and a white-hot wave passed through me; then, a glowing white disk appeared at my feet, moving upwards. I dropped the gun in surprise. When the light faded, I felt like I'd just put on a very thick coat. I looked at my left arm and found a shield on it: two lions rampant, or, flanking a sword, argent, on a field azure. It was triangular and slightly curved, long enough to cover me from neck to knee. It seemed I'd somehow acquired a full plate harness. I hid behind the shield as they fired. Pink rings rebounded from the shield to destroy trashcans and garbage bags. I felt more strike my back.

<It is not enough merely to keep thine foes from harming thee. Thou must attack!> The voice that spoke in my head sounded English, like the nobles in old soap operas.

'With what?!'

<With thine sword, of course.> I looked down and saw the sword on my left hip and the dagger on my right. I drew the sword. It was about three and a half feet long, with a grip long enough for two hands but the weapon was also balanced for single-handed use. The hilt had a plain crosspiece and a leather grip. The dagger was about ten inches long, a miniature version of the sword.

I charged with the sword held high, ignoring the fire from behind. My first stroke clove a 'man' open from crown to breast and me second one cut three more in half at the waist. I continued to swing wildly, severing limbs and the occasional head. <Thou has talent; however, thou needst much training.>

'And I suppose you could do better?' <With thine leave...> I felt myself shunted to one side and the voice took control of my body. He moved with grace, flowing from each move to the next. I noticed a red blur beside me and the enemies on either side fell. A red dagger buried itself in the throat of the last one in front of me. I regained control and turned around after sheathing my sword.

'Thanks. What are those things?' A girl about my age stood there holding a ridiculously large red sword. Her black hair had a single lock tipped in red. She was wearing a white dress shirt and very tight jeans. She pushed the blade through a glowing portal and began to pick up the crystals.

'You're not bad. I suppose I'll have to share the bounty with you...maybe fifty thousand yen for each of us.'

'Bounty? What were those things?'

'Invaders. I'm a hunter; I get a bounty for each one I kill. Where should I send the money?'

'I'm leaving for Tokyo in a few days. Do you have something to take down the address?' She pulled out a cellphone. I gave her my name and my uncle's address.

'What a coincidence. I live on that street, too. I'll bring it by sometime next week. By the way, how about a little sparring?' She pulled the giant sword from another portal.

'Why not?' She charged before the words were out of my mouth, bringing the blade around in a wide arc that barely cleared the walls. I blocked it with my shield, but the blow knocked me into the alley wall. I declined a second bout. She left with the crystals clinking in a small bag.

Now, how do I get out of this thing? <Command it to return.> I'd heard worse ideas. 'Armour, return.'

The light flared again and I was back in my regular clothes. I picked up the gun and empty magazines and reloaded the weapon. I found a package store a few yards from the end of the alley. The owner looked at me suspiciously when I brought him a bottle of brandy and one of bourbon-my parents' favourite drinks. I handed him my passport-with a few thousand yen inside-and he rang it up. I returned to the hotel and poured myself two drinks. I drained the cups after brief toasts to my parents. I hope you're in a happier place now...no more fighting, no more bitchy clients.

<Well said.> The voice seemed to have no objections to the fact that I was underage.

'Who are you?' <Galahad, son of Launcelot Dulac; knight of the Round Table.> I was surprised, to put it mildly, but I continued in a normal tone.

'Why are you here?' <Thou didst summon me through the Gate of Spirits.>

'Gate of Spirits?' <There are many Gates that link this world to others. Fire, wind, weapons, and beasts may be summoned through them. Our ally of tonight controls the Gate of Blades. The Gate thou dost command is the Gate of Spirits, one of the rarest of all Gates. Thou mayest summon the spirits of two warriors to aid thee in battle. I am the first of thine two companions.>

Great...and these spirits will live in my head. <That is true, we shall dwell within thee. However, thou mayest find solitude at any time by closing the Gate.>

How do you know all this? <I was summoned through this Gate many years ago. The companions of the one who summoned me taught us the lore of the Gates, incomplete as it was.>

Do I get any special powers from summoning your armour? How do I do that, anyway? <As thou probably knowest, I, with two companions, Sir Perceval and Sir Bors, achieved the quest of the Sangreal. Certain powers have therefore been granted me, and through me, thee. First, creatures of evil-demons and lesser monsters-cannot abide thine presence without pain. Second, thine blade shall burn them as though it were an angel's fiery brand. Finally, thou holdst the healing power of the Grail in thine hand. Thou hast but to call the armour by name to summon it forth at any time.> I guess the Invaders didn't count as monsters. I think I'll call it "Leo" for its arms.

Hate to break it to you, Galahad, but I worship Athena. <Thou art a heathen?! Thine idol is a suitable choice for a warrior, but thine soul is in great peril. I hope to convert thee to the True Faith, but the powers I spoke of are mine and my faith sustains them.>

That's good to hear. Do you know who my second ally will be? <I know not. Thou shalt meet him soon, however.>

You mentioned training. Will you teach me to wield a sword? <I shall. Sleep now. We begin training at dawn. Close the Gate; thou wilt sleep easier for it.>

I concentrated on the image of a closing door and I felt strangely alone as Galahad withdrew.

Notes: This grew out of a post of mine on a thread on the TechTV Anime Unleashed boards discussing what powers one would want as a Gatekeeper. I said I would like a Gate that summoned armour. This is the end result of much thought along those lines. I am greatly indebted to one known to me only as KuririnAD. He nudged me onto the 'spirits' thing.

For anyone who has read my other fics (modesty prohibits me from naming them, but they are listed in my profile; click my name at the top of the page), I've been on a slightly depressing streak these past two months or so. I'm not apologizing, but I hope this fic has a happier ending than the beginning promises.

The narrator's Gate behaves rather oddly, but a 'standard' Gate just wouldn't work for summoning a suit of armour. A suit that appears at your feet isn't that useful. The second aspect of the Gate, the spirits, opens within him and no one else can see it.

I hope to have this complete in six parts, but as you probably know, an author doesn't have quite as much control of a story as one would think.

For reference, I'm using an exchange rate of 120 yen to the dollar for this story. And a bounty of 2000 yen a head on Invaders (kinda low, but they die in large numbers). Also, italics indicate the narrator's thoughts; <> enclose Galahad's.

See you in Tokyo! (not literally)