Will new nightclub "Eclipse" the competition?

Nightclubs are becoming more and more common in the downtown scene of Anjiro. As the city grows, so does the city's culture. We have clubs like The Anime, which seeks to blend nightlife with pop culture, and The Temple, which uses a more traditional theme. But opening soon will be a more aggressive competitor.

Eclipse is the brainchild of Meixiu Nao, once a performer for the Peacock Fan circus. The interior as you walk in is deceptively simple; dark walls with little decoration, a spacious dance floor skirted by a raised stage. There are dancing cages here, but you need to be especially athletic to reach them--each of the four cages is ten feet up the wall, accessible by ladder.

But as you explore the club, half-hidden nooks are revealed. There are a series of small rooms on the second floor, with "windows" to allow the occupants to observe the dancers below. Each of these rooms is lavishly--and sometimes garishly--decorated. One is a gothic fantasy, with faux ironwork grates over the window. Another is like stepping into the cover of a heavy metal band's album cover. Each room is furnished with an assortment of chairs and tables.

Nao explained that the rooms are meant to give people a place to relax and socialize, a place to enjoy the club and the food and drinks that will be served there. She also said the rooms reflect what the club is really all about--the music.

"Many of the clubs in town only play techno, or remixes of popular music. There is a lot of music that gets overlooked, and that's what we'll be playing here. Goth, metal, punk. Underground stuff. I'm hoping to be able to host local bands, as well. I want Eclipse to be a focal point for that subculture."

It's not hard to see the former fire-dancer as the owner of a goth/punk club. She seems at home in leather, pierced and tattooed. She admitted that she wished that city ordinances would allow her to put a tattoo parlor in the club, but allowed that alcohol and tattoo guns rarely make for a good mixture.

The Eclipse grand opening will be next Saturday, with drink specials that will change every hour and and DJ Hideko visiting from Tokyo.

**** **** ****

Zhizhu grabbed a stack of flyers from the box strapped to the back of her motorcycle. She smiled at the young reporter; she thought his name was Hachiro. He looked a little shaken from his ride behind her, but smiled back and pulled out his little micro-cassette recorder. Inwardly, she was annoyed, but he'd wanted the damned interview despite having to come out with her.

She had hoped she'd be able to put off the overly-earnest young man. She'd done several interviews already, mostly for various websites dedicated to the nightlife of Anjiro. She didn't particularly like talking to the so-called reporters. So she'd told him that she needed to put up flyers in the park; he'd responded that he'd enjoy walking in the park. He'd seemed thrilled by her "dedication" to the advertisement of her club.

She tried her best to be charming as he asked his tedious little questions. He wasn't important, and neither was this interview. At best, it would be read by 10 or 15 people, another dead-end article on the web. Then again, she didn't want any kind of bad press. She'd invested three months of her time and all her resources into Eclipse. So she smiled, and told him what she wanted her potential customers to know.

It caught her completely by surprise when she saw Shin. She was taping a flyer up on a lamp post and had looked over her shoulder to answer Hachiro. Sitting on a bench across the park was the demon hunter. He didn't appear to be looking her way, but she knew that he'd seen her. How long he'd been there she had no idea, and that bothered her.

He looked up at that point, and their eyes met. Some strange emotion washed over her--it wasn't fear, but was somehow kin to it. She felt it in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't embarrassed, but she felt the hot rush of blood in her cheeks.

"Miss Nao? Are you alright?" Hachiro was looking at her strangely, and she realized she'd completely forgotten the reporter for a moment.

"I'm fine. What was that last question?" She glanced past Hachiro's shoulder again, to see Shin give her a little wave. She gave a curt nod, then answered Hachiro's question. She diverted the reporter away from that part of the park, walking them back towards her motorcycle. Now was not the time to deal with the hunter, and a part of her was grateful for the presence of the annoying young reporter. She was not quite sure what had just happened, but she knew that the next time she saw Shin, it would at the very least be an interesting encounter.

Grief and murder

Not Kiku. Not again.

The words sounded through Zhizhu’s mind like some enormous brass gong, reverberating and jarring.

They had been so close to rescuing her. They had all thought that they’d be saving her from mistreatment, from rape. Not from… that. To have even her spirit stilled and made inert. Kiku, who had been the most vibrant person the Devil-Tiger had ever encountered. And Shard… to have to face Kiku’s death again, to be unable to save her from such an ignoble fate. Zhizhu felt the wrongness of it, and wished she could lop off that effeminate fool’s ghostly head.

Zhizhu was as unaccustomed to grief as she was to love. Kiku’s mortal death had been hard, but there had been swift vengeance. They had been so close to saving her.

Not Kiku. Not again.

She thought to distract herself by tending to her day-to-day duties. She knew she did not feel the pain that Shard did, but there was a definite sense of loss. Anger as well--at herself for not acting more quickly, at the incompetent magistrate of Anjiro’s necropolis, at the world for allowing such a light to be so irretrievably quenched.

She had gone to the basement, to check on Yi. He had, somehow, picked up on her morose mood and attempted to be comforting. The last thing she wanted for him to speak to her, especially in any way other than as a servant to his mistress. As she cuffed him, and he went skittering into a corner, she wondered if she should just kill him. She would not be using the basement as much, and he was a drain on her resources.

Would five years of suffering really teach him? Was it enlightenment that drove her to that goal, or simply vengeance?

Days passed, and she became so embroiled in her various plans that the grief of Kiku’s second death settled in and became just another part of her. She had finally set her plans in motion to open a nightclub. The idea was somehow revitalizing, and she thought it held more opportunity for enlightenment. With a nightclub, things would be changing and growing constantly. She’d be building influence and influencing the lives of her customers. She turned the idea over in her mind, and found that she genuinely liked it.

The uji had moved, as she had realized the hunter had her wallet and could possibly track her back to their apartment building. As they moved into the new set of condos, Zhizhu asked Flaring Grin to inform the Peacock Fan that she was quitting. Her interest in performing there had waned, and she knew her free time would be taken primarily by readying the club.

She returned to her basement, having thought for a long time about what to do with Yi. She descended the stairs, flicking on the bright overhead lights. He must have been sleeping, but was startled awake and came cautiously to her side. She studied him—the bent posture, the servile expression on his disfigured face. She sighed. It was a waste, really.

It had been a glorious moment for her, breaking him. Yet she knew now that she had rushed it. Not the torture itself--that had taken weeks--but the act in its entirety. She had years in which to accomplish all she needed for her koa; now she feared enlightenment through the pain of others would be more difficult to realize. Her haste had produced a moment of ling, but may have closed that door for an indeterminate length of time.

He looked up her, emotions he no longer had the will to conceal flitting across his scarred features. Fear, confusion, fawning servility. Five years would not teach him, if he had not already learned what it was like to be helplessly at the control of another. He had been a mistake, and she looked upon all this as a lesson for herself. She regarded him almost with regret, for the corrupt Yama Kings would not instruct his soul in the hells, and she doubted he had the will to ever claw his way out. He was a pitiable thing now, and she wondered that he had once wielded such great power over her life.

She spoke no words to him, nothing that might warn him of her intentions and thus give him a chance to struggle. She snapped his neck quickly, quietly, and he dropped to concrete floor with a dull thud. She felt no grief, no pain, nor sorrow. Nor did she feel any satisfaction with her deed. It had simply been a task long overdue.

Passion & Fire

Just when it seemed she most needed time for a long meditation, time was in short supply for Zhizhu. On the heels of the action she’d taken to save the hunter’s—Shin’s—life, there came news of Kiku’s abduction by Chinese wraiths. The uji cared for Kiku, each in their own way. Zhihzu knew there were few people who could claim the devotion the Scouts showed towards the former geisha. Even as a wraith, a threat to the once-vibrant young woman could spur them to immediate action.

No doubt they’d cobble together some sort of plan before going into the Shadowlands to rescue Kiku. But the long drive back, crouched low on her motorcycle, would give her time to reflect on what had happened with Shin.

She was still uncertain as to why she’d let him live. Let him? She’d actually worked rather hard to keep him alive. She’d struggled to take out the harpoon head without further injuring him; she’d given him her own chi-laden blood to heal him. She hadn’t just let him live, she’d actively saved his life.

She had meant what she’d said, about his death being no boon to the city. While the Shih had taken up their mantle as hunters of their own accord, they performed a necessary and important function. She was somehow comforted by the fact that if she became an akuma, there would be someone there to stop her. Someone with no emotional ties to her, who would not hesitate to kill her if she became corrupted.

And yet, she knew she could trust her uji to fulfill that duty, should that day come. Despite any bonds they had, she knew even soft-hearted Shard would not hesitate to strike a killing blow. Her confusion over the incident lent strength to her P’o; she’d come far too close to losing control of her demon back in the alley where she’d found him. There was some truth to her demon’s rant about having Shin as her creature, and a part of her was curious to know how someone like him would fare as her victim.

She could not do that, however. She didn’t know the extent of his powers, and there was no guarantee that he’d have been helpless even in his injured state. Besides, to break him she’d have had to heal him, and then he definitely would have been dangerous. Add to that the fact that torture had not been very enlightening for her since breaking Yi. She remembered the warnings of her teachers not to plunge too quickly into her role as a demon. Each step along the Road Back was more difficult. It was best not to become jaded early in her life as a gaki.

She thought of the other tenets of her dharma, those which spoke of passion and fire. It was time to turn her thoughts towards these tenets. There was that nightclub she’d been thinking of opening—it would be a good opportunity to “seek the brightest embers and feed them until become bonfires.” Her mind suddenly supplied her with an image of Shin, barely clad, and she would have blushed had she been scarlet-cycled. There would be time to explore that particular option later. Maybe if she just fucked him and got it over with, she’d have an end to this annoying conflict of emotion.

She smiled, a feeling of certainty coming back to her. She didn’t need to fret and worry over the hunter. It didn’t really matter why she’d saved his life—just that she’d done it. If he became a problem later, she’d handle it. And if she had the opportunity, she’d handle him in a quite different way. Maybe it wouldn’t even come to that; she’d gotten turned on, but it could have been something about the situation. Whatever it was, she’d deal with it when the time came.

Feeling much better, she returned her thoughts to the approaching rescue mission.

family matters, part one

It did not take long to dispose of Ketsuo's body; Zhizhu returned to find Yi still cleaning up the blood and bits of brain matter that had splattered with the gunshot. She regarded the scene coolly, her gaze lingering on the cold metal table where the yakuza lieutenant had lain. She scowled, clenching a fist, and did not notice Yi's wince at her sudden change in mood.

It was her first time torturing simply for information. She'd agreed readily to the plan, looking forward to the new experience. And yet, with the man in her clutches, it had proven disappointing. He had broken so quickly that at first she'd been convinced he was faking. She'd relished the thought of working on one with the will of a yakuza, a man who'd risen to power by stepping on the backs of others.

And yet, nothing. The experience was empty. Perhaps it was simply that the experience came on the heels of the headiness that followed breaking Yi. She'd experienced so much triumph and satisfaction from that act, it'd felt like the high of a drug. No wonder that such a simple job as Ketsuo felt like a letdown.

Suddenly, she grimaced, as if in pain. Was it that headiness, that rush of power, which led so many astray? Had she begun to set her foot upon the first step to becoming an akuma? No. A fate that one is aware of is a fate that one may avoid. Still, she thought, I understand better how the Yama Kings could have set aside their duties to Heaven.

She looked at Yi, who had paused in his cleaning and was watching her with wide eyes. When he saw her looking at him, his head snapped down and he redoubled his efforts. That heady feeling returned, and she dissected it. Triumph--it had taken weeks to grind him down, to reduce a proud, powerful man to this. Satisfaction--she had sucessfully dealt with one facet of her koa. She had taken her vengeance. And yet, that was not all.

She tried to think of Yi in the hells. He would suffer, oh yes. Probably more than any torture she could devise. And yet, his spirit would be wasted in hell. It would stay there, for eternity, as a toy for some Yama King. She thought long on the punishment she had chosen for him, and decided it was just. He had treated her as nothing more than a blow-up doll, something pretty to trot out in front of his clients and then put away until he needed to fuck something. She could only assume he'd treated his other wife the same way.

Now he was the lowly one, the one who served and had little value beyond that. He would learn about the pain he had inflicted, pain which had nothing to do with physical wounds. She felt the rightness of that, and she smiled.

family matters, part two

Shard's self-isolation was somehow unsettling to Zhizhu. She wasn't sure why this was so, and sat to poke and prod her thoughts and feelings into order. It was not as if Shard had ever been overwhelmingly social. She sometimes seemed to wear her shyness as armor, except when she was around Kiku--or when she'd gotten so involved in some explanation or plan that she'd forgotten her timidity. Yet Shard had never before gone out of her way to avoid everyone for so long.

Zhizhu knew the other girl must still be grieving, though she retreated into her dharma's Black Metal Egg to do so. And Shard had been correct when she'd pointed out that Zhizhu had never known love, could never know the pain that accompanied the tragic end of that love. Zhizhu regretted her conversation with Shard; it had done neither of them any good.

She spent a few moments wishing she could take back the entire conversation, but allowed those thoughts to pass on. She couldn't take it back, and she wouldn't waste her time crying about it. She wanted to support her uji-mate, but didn't know how. She respected the other dharmas, and yet had almost berated Shard for following hers. She wished that Shard would accept the pain, make it a part of herself and thus grow stronger--but she could not expect a Bone Flower to let loose the Howl of the Devil-Tiger. Shard had her own road to walk, and Zhizhu needed to accept that.

What would the others think, if they could see into her thoughts? Would they believe that it was more than the bindings of ritual which held her to them? She smiled, a small, bitter thing. She could hear her shadow soul, felt the disdain of her darker self. If the others could hear you, they'd use your weaknesses against you. Or worse, they'd pity you, fool that you are. Why waste any time or energy worrying about them? You should be focusing on their weak spots. Play them like you all played the Amidas. Bring them under your control without them ever knowing you orchestrated the entire thing.

Shut. Up.

No! You've had plenty of chances to have this uji firmly under your bootheel, and you've discarded them all! I'll make you listen to me! I'll lay the traps and wait for them to blunder into my web!

She felt her P'o struggle for control, rising and ripping through to the forefront of her consciousness. This is my uji. You will not hurt them. You will not control them! It was like the fight with Tetsumiya all over again, except it was a purely mental battle. It was not claw versus sword; will was the weapon in this battle of her split soul.

WHY DO YOU CARE?! They are your uji only because you were all in the right place at the right time! The Court threw you together. They are only stepping stones!

No, they aren't. It doesn't matter why I care. Only that I do! The Court may have simply thrown us to together for their purposes. That doesn't matter either. You will not touch them. I would lay down my life for any of them--Keeper, Shard, or Flaring Grin. They may not know it--I may not show it--but they are what I never had in my First Breath.

And what is that?, the demon sneered.

She thought of her uji. Of Flaring Grin's compassion and laughter. Of Keeper's quiet strength and Shard's sweet shyness and sharp mind. And she thought she might understand what love was after all. My family.

She held back the raging force of her P'o. Had she been scarlet-cycled, she might have broken a sweat with the effort it cost her. But in the end, her demon-self slunk off into the shadows of her psyche.