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Package delivery: a pretty standard job in the Yamada family business. There were lots of reasons people might not want to deal with the postal service, from efficiency, to ease of use, to the package contents, which, hey, they weren’t about to judge what people were shipping. They didn’t even require the address of the recipient, if the sender didn’t know it; they could find it out on their own if need be. Sure, that policy had gotten them into some scrapes. But it gained them plenty of jobs from the little old ladies who weren’t quite sure where in Tokyo their grandkids had moved to, or middle schoolers sending their sweetheart from another school a love letter. It was yet another great service offered by Yamada Odd Jobs.
When they accepted a job to deliver a parcel to one Rio Mason Busujima, they’d thought, hey, we know the guy already, this’ll be easy. Just hit up his known contacts, get the info, and hustle that envelope over there. The other members of Mad Trigger Crew weren’t all that hard to get ahold of, at least for the Yamadas.
Samatoki, when called about Rio’s whereabouts, had barked out a laugh and said “Good fucking luck!” before hanging up.
Jyuto, much more polite, had only sniggered and said “I’m afraid that information is need-to-know.”
Well, okay.
They could still figure it out. Saburo was on it, combing through military records (Rio was, apparently, still technically MIA), Yokohama police logs (yeah, seemed like Jyuto had scrubbed those), and, once he got particularly desperate, UMA sighting forums.
Reports on the mysterious “bayside beastman” were hilarious, and, unfortunately, were all they had to go on.
They’d briefly wondered how someone who had appeared on a government-funded stage broadcast on national television could possibly be this elusive.
“Well,” Ichiro declared on Saturday morning, “looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
Saburo nodded. “Hacking unmonitored CCTV footage.”
“Great idea for next time, but not what I was referring to.” Ichiro pulled out the sightings map that Saburo had put together for him the previous night. “We’re going to look for him on foot.”
Saburo groaned.
“Dunno why we didn’t start with that,” Jiro said.
"What are we going to do, sniff him out? We're not dogs.”
"Could just try asking people. Better than lurking on those skeevy forums full of weirdos who think they saw aliens."
Saburo took a breath, completely ready to explain to Jiro's feeble mind that UMA are not aliens, but animals yet undiscovered by science, but then Ichiro cleared his throat. He dropped the argument.
“Yeah, we’re going to ask around,” Ichiro said. “But thanks to Saburo’s searches, we do know where to start looking.” Ichiro started drawing on the map. “He’s spotted most consistently around the shipping yard, but that’s a pretty sketchy place, even in broad daylight, so I’ll be the one heading down there.” He marked off a few spots around forests and parks. “I want you two to stick together and check out these areas where the forests come up against suburbs. He ain’t using proper trails, that’s for sure, but that means he has to come and go from weird places. If someone’s seen him, he’d have made an impression. You guys got it?”
“I do have one question,” Saburo said. “This sighting,” he pointed to a marked spot on the map, “was probably just a fat raccoon. Do we still have to check it out?”
“I--” Ichiro looked from the map back to Saburo’s compilation of grainy, late-night photographs from online. “That’s-- that’s a really fat raccoon.”
The picture in question was grainer than most, but the round, furry beast it showed rummaging through a trash can was probably not Rio.
Jiro looked, too. “Oh, woah. It’s so fat, I legit thought that was a bear for a sec.”
“Idiot. There’s no bears in suburban Yokohama.”
“I know! It just looks like one!”
“Okay,” Ichiro said, cutting them off. He scribbled over that mark on the map. “You don’t have to go to the fat raccoon sighting unless you want to. But, uh, if that’s it, then let’s get ready to go!”
The three parted ways as they got to Yokohama Station, Jiro carrying the package.
Caught up in the job as they had been, only now, while boarding the connecting train to the suburbs, did Jiro and Saburo realize that Ichiro had stuck them together in a team. Again.
“Ugh. He should’ve just let me go on my own,” Saburo grumbled. “It’d be faster, too, since I wouldn’t have to explain to you how I found the optimal path for getting to each sighting efficiently.” Saburo had his phone out, going over the directions that Jiro couldn’t seem to comprehend.
“Your optimal path doesn’t actually take us anywhere that people would’ve seen Mr. Busujima. It’s all alleyways!”
“Yes, it does! It’s literally a path between sightings. People had to see him for there to be a sighting.” Saburo enunciated each word in the last sentence, hoping to get it through Jiro’s thick skull. It probably wouldn’t even breach the hat.
“Weirdo people. We’re supposed to ask normal people if they saw him, not the guys who claim he’s some kind of secret monster.” Jiro huffed. “I’ll be a good, respectable big brother and let you lead the way, but we’re going with populated streets, not back alleys, alright? ‘Sides, if we don’t go somewhere with places to rest I’m going to end up having to carry your no-stamina shut-in butt home.”
Saburo groaned, but that was probably as good as he was going to get.
The first sighting to check out wasn’t far from the stop they were getting off at (all part of Saburo’s plan, naturally). The online post hadn’t had a picture, but if Ichiro thought this one was a lead, Saburo was happy to check it out. It had been a description of something speeding across the street, jumping up over a guardrail, and barrelling down a steep hill dense with trees. A weird description, to be sure, but there was a chance it had been Rio in a hurry.
The area certainly matched the post… more or less. The guardrail was more of an eroded curb, and the trees weren’t all that dense. Across the street was a kids’ park with a few families out enjoying the weekend.
Jiro went to talk to the families, but quickly came back. “They haven’t seen anything. Oh, check out this hill.”
“What?”
“Right here.” Jiro jogged ahead and looked into the trees. “There’s no trees right through here, it’s just a straight shot. If you had a mountain bike or something you could just, pshooo,” he moved his hand along with the noise, pointing a line through the park and down the hill. ”Shortcut right on through. It’s a little while to get around these trees otherwise.”
Saburo got what he was saying, but… “It’s not that much of a shortcut. Who would do that?”
Jiro shrugged. Idiot didn’t even know what he was saying.
Well, this place was a bust.
They moved on to the next, down a narrow, winding street and up a hill to the edge of a forest. It backed up against a convenience store. The sighting here had been next to said store; something had opened the dumpster lid at night and spread trash around.
Jiro went inside to question the shop’s workers, and Saburo went around back to take a look at the scene.
The trash had been cleaned up, and there was now a lock on the dumpster, complete with a security camera peeping out from under the shop’s eaves. There didn’t seem to be any remnants of whatever had come through here. Saburo decided to check out the forest, too. He didn’t need to go in, he just needed to look for evidence of entry and exit. Broken branches, a worn path, detritus… If he looked hard enough, there might be…
Cold. “Gyah!” Saburo lurched forward, instinctively getting away from the sudden chill on the back of his neck. He spun around to see Jiro holding out a can of soda. “Don’t do that!” He snatched the can out of Jiro’s outstretched hand, because even if it wasn’t for him he was taking it as penance anyway.
Jiro chuckled. “It’s funny, though.”
“ Whatever! Did you talk to the staff?”
“Yeah. They said the security footage just showed an animal. They couldn’t figure out what kind, though.”
Saburo opened up his drink. There wasn’t anything at the forest’s edge, either. He hadn’t really thought that Rio was desperate enough to rummage through trash, so he wasn’t surprised that this lead was another dead end.
They continued. They checked one pointless sighting, then another.
Maybe Jiro had been right; these forum postings weren’t actually going to get them anywhere.
Saburo must be tired if he was starting to think Jiro was right. He led them into an alley that he knew for sure was a shortcut to the next spot on their list. He expected to hear some gripe from Jiro, but there was just silence.
He turned around. Jiro was busy on his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s past lunchtime,” Jiro answered, not looking up.
“What, are you finding a restaurant?”
“Delivery.” He turned his phone around and showed the screen. “UberEats’ll bring it right to us.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t really be ordering UberEats while we’re in the middle of a job.”
“I thought you’d like it! It’s efficient! We can stay on your path and not go somewhere else.”
Saburo couldn’t argue with that, but he still thought it was stupid. Because everything Jiro did was stupid.
The next spot was another forest; actually, it was the same one that the convenience store was near, just the opposite side. This edge was a public park, a grassy area coming up against a spot of forest where the trees had been thinned out and manicured. Beyond the maintained park area, it was still natural growth.
Saburo headed over to the forest area, looking for the same things he’d been looking for at every spot. At this point, he wasn’t holding out a lot of hope, though. Rio might just be too hard to find. Jiro looked with him for a short while, but then he went to sit at a bench.
Jiro was stupid, but he wasn’t lazy, so Saburo eventually went to see what was up.
“I’m waiting for the UberEats guy,” Jiro explained. “I told ‘em to meet me here in this park.”
Saburo gave up and sat with him, because, yeah, okay, it was the afternoon and he was kind of tired. It wasn’t a long wait. A woman on a bicycle with a square black backpack came careening down the path, skidding to a stop just short of their bench. “Two bento boxes?” she said, winded, but still way louder than she needed to be.
Jiro nodded, and the woman jumped off the bike and unloaded the delivery from her bag. Saburo took it.
As he was handing over the money, Jiro asked her, “Do you come through this park a lot?”
“I go all over Yokohama,” she said. “Number one courier in the city.”
“Ever seen a tall guy in military clothes around?”
“The redhead? He’s in this park all the time.”
“Oh, yeah? Mind showing me where?”
She counted up the change and nodded. “This way,” she said, hopping back on her bike. She darted off, jumping her bike off the path, onto the grass, and then hurtling around a tree. Jiro sprinted after her to keep up.
Saburo was left holding the bento boxes, trying to process the fact that in one rapid conversation with a bike courier, Jiro had gotten closer to finding Rio than they had all day.
He decided to wait at the bench. He was just going to have his food.
Oh, Jiro had gotten him pork. His favorite.
When Jiro came back, he collapsed onto the bench. “She was in a hell of a rush,” he squeezed out between breaths.
“Did she show you anything useful?” Saburo asked.
“Just a sec. Lemme eat first.”
They took some time to rest and have their food. Jiro explained what the courier had told him. She usually saw Rio entering or exiting the forest at the same spot. She’d tried to follow, once, to see if there might be a shortcut from one corner of the forest to the other. It hadn’t worked, but she had come across a campsite before she had to turn around.
Saburo figured that if she was able to get there on a bike, it had to be a pretty clear path through the trees to the campsite. Jiro showed him to the spot.
“Are you sure you’re alright heading in here?” Jiro asked. “I don’t wanna have to haul you out because you trip and hurt yourself. I can go on my own.”
“I’m fine! I’m smaller and more nimble! Maybe I should go on my own so that you don’t get a chance to hit your stupid head on a tree.” Saburo huffed and stomped into the woods.
Jiro followed with a sigh.
The forest path wasn’t nearly as simple as Saburo had thought it would be. Frankly, he had no idea how anyone could make it through on a bike. He stepped over fallen logs, ducked under low branches, and got an intolerable amount of lichen and spiderwebs stuck in his hair. His legs were already sore and there was no sign of any campsite.
There had been tracks, though. Broken branches, trampled shrubs. But those could’ve just been animals. Then they came upon a patch of flattened grass, clearly a spot where something had sat for a while.
“Maybe Mr. Busujima set up a sleeping bag here?” Jiro suggested, walking around to the opposite side as he examined it.
“Idiot. It’s obviously just an animal’s nest. Besides, who would sleep outside a tent?”
“It seems kind of big to be an animal.”
“It could’ve been a deer, or a whole family of raccoons, or any number of things. There’s no reason to think that…” He trailed off. Standing some distance behind Jiro, just visible through the trees, was… something. Something human-sized, but not human-shaped, dark and imposing, staring with beady eyes. “Jiro… What’s that thing over there…?”
Jiro stood up turned around.
The thing moved closer.
Jiro put himself in front of Saburo.
“Th-there aren’t any bears in Yokohama,” Saburo whispered.
It was looking right at them.
“Well, that sure as hell looks like one,” Jiro whispered back.
Jiro took a step back, pushing Saburo with him.
It took a step forward.
“Wh-what is it doing here?”
Jiro didn’t answer. He reached into his pocket.
“What are you-- your mic? You’re going to rap at the bear!?”
“Do you have any better ideas!?”
“A nything’s better than that! That can’t work! The bear doesn’t understand Japanese!”
“Well, maybe it’ll--”
A booming voice shouted, “Cover your ears!” and then-- Bang!
They barely had time to follow the command before a louder noise than either of them had ever heard echoed around them.
They keeled over, clutching at their temples.
Somewhere through the ringing they heard shuffling, running, branches cracking and leaves moving. When they managed to recover enough to look around, the bear was gone. A man stood over them.
“Are you two okay?” Rio asked. He held out his hands to help them up. Jiro took the offered hand; Saburo didn’t, pushing himself up on his own.
Jiro responded first. “M-Mr. Busujima! Thank you! Was that-- was that a fucking bear?”
Somewhere in the back of his mind Saburo wanted to jab at him for swearing. Far, far in the back of his mind. The front of his mind was more concerned with asking, “You used a g- gun!?”
Rio shifted the weapon in his grip. “A sound wave rifle. Yes, that was a bear; it seems to have escaped from the house of an eccentric pet collector. I’ve been tracking it. It can’t hunt for itself, so it’s been causing trouble at local businesses.”
Jiro laughed breathlessly. “Did you catch it? Just now?”
“No, your safety is more important.” He paused, and then with a look of concern, asked, “Why are you here?”
Jiro patted at his jacket. “We’ve got a,” he found the envelope in his pocket, “a parcel for you.”
“For me?” He took the offered envelope. “Thank you for coming all this way. Please, allow me to treat you to a meal for the trouble.”
“Aw, thanks, but no thanks! We’re just doing our job, and we just ate.”
“Then at least let me escort you out of the forest. That bear is still out there.”
Jiro smiled at Rio and agreed. “Well, Saburo, let’s text Ichiro mission complete and get back home!”
Jiro, idiot that he was, might’ve been getting on fine only seconds after being face to face with a bear and a gun (even if it was a sort-of-legal one), but Saburo needed a moment. “Yeah. Uh, okay.”
“Huh?” Jiro jostled Saburo’s shoulder. “You good, dude? Do I actually have to carry you home?”
“Of course not!” Saburo pushed him away. “I’m fine, idiot.”
“Just idiot? You can come up with better insults than that. Are you really fine?”
“Stupid. Meathead. Trash-for-brains.”
Jiro nodded. “That’s better. Let’s go.”
Rio led as they went back the way they’d come.
“Imbecile,” Saburo continued as they walked. “Ignoramus. Nitwit.”
“Okay, you can stop now,” Jiro said. “I can tell you’re feeling better.”
“Simpleton, moron--”
“You damn smartass--”
“Dimwit--”
“Brat--”
“Numbskull--”
“Ah,” Rio said, “You two seem to care about each other a great deal. It’s heartwarming to see siblings that get along as well as you brothers.”
“Wh--” Saburo sputtered.
“ This guy!?” Jiro exclaimed.
“Absolutely not!” they said in unison.