The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters by Baku Yumemakura

and the bear. The bear growled deeply in response. It stepped from side to side, but the movement was clearly one of caution. It approached slowly. Hosuke had begun to mutter something in a low voice, but Biku was unable to make out the words from where he sat. The bear was right before him now and began to feast on the meat. Biku watched as Hosuke reached out and touched the bear’s right leg with his hand. The bear growled as its leg twitched. Hosuke withdrew his hand. When the bear finished eating, it turned and left as though nothing had happened. Hosuke drew his bulky frame up and stood there scratching at his head. Biku had witnessed something remarkable.
    “Can you talk to bears?” Biku asked when Hosuke came back.
    “Nope.” Hosuke folded his legs, settling into the same space as before. “That was Japanese.”
    “What did you say to it?”
    “I was singing a lullaby.”
    “And the bear understood it?”
    “How should I know?” Hosuke muttered appearing bored. If it was an act, his performance was flawless. Hosuke glanced around the fire. The rabbit was all gone. “Guess I used it all.” He made an infantile face.
    “Would you like me to prepare something?”
    “Nah.” Hosuke rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled out a skewer of rabbit meat. “I kept one to the side.” He smiled for the first time. It was a dangerously endearing smile. Biku still could not gauge whether the man was being serious or just playing with him. “That bear,” Hosuke started, mouth stuffed with the meat, “had a bullet wound in its leg. A year old, thereabouts.”
    Biku looked up when Hosuke had finished eating. “It appears that we have guests,” he said.
    “So it seems,” Hosuke murmured back.
    5
    They saw the torchlight first, three bright points approaching them through spaces between the trees.
    Finally, three men appeared. Biku knew them from earlier, the trio of Iba, Yajima, and Hiroshi. They turned off their torches. Their faces seemed to float in the dim firelight. Iba stood in the center while Hiroshi flanked his right and Yajima his left. Another figure appeared soon after them, huge and cloaked in darkness. It was the shadowy figure of a ridiculously large man. He did not seem to need a flashlight; his eyes were perhaps adjusted to the dark. The man carried a woman in his hands. They were both dressed in black. The woman wore a hood-like cloth over her head, like the dress of women in the Islamic Middle East, designed to conceal her face from strangers. Her eyes were visible through a single, crescent-shaped opening. The man came to a stop behind the other three. He lowered the woman down with gentleness at odds with his enormity. The woman nestled herself to his side. They hardly made a sound. She looked directly at Biku and Hosuke. The color of the campfire flickered an invitation in her black eyes.
    “I had a feeling it would be you,” Biku said, still seated.
    “We meet again,” Iba replied, quietly intimidating. Yajima and Hiroshi smiled threateningly at his sides, eyes watering with excitement.
    “I thought I could smell something good. Look who it’s led us to.” Hiroshi chuckled.
    “I assume the other gentleman is Hosuke Kumon?” Iba asked.
    Hosuke nodded.
    “Perfect. I suspected this one would beat us to it. Well, we may have missed you during our first introductions, but we’re all here now. I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving with this guy first, had me in a cold sweat. Looks like searching through the night paid off after all.” He seemed to know that Biku had been looking for Hosuke.
    “Let me guess, you followed the two hikers,” Biku said.
    Iba said nothing, his silence confirmation enough. They had probably tracked the two hikers down and ambushed them. Iba had suspected Biku the whole time, which is why they had given up so easily before; their plan had been to wait for him to leave, pick up the other two, and question them; the two hikers would tell them