Chapter Text
Salem Munroe was not a fucking action movie star.
He was not a ninjutsu master. He was not a manipulative mastermind, he was not supernaturally powered, he was not dangerous. He was not even particularly accomplished at the two mile run he did twice a week to keep his weight down.
He couldn’t even eat the yolk inside his hard boiled eggs any more, because of cholesterol.
Back in the day when he was living it up in LA, him and Lou used to box. Lou would generously keep from kicking his head off his shoulders long enough for Sal to get a good workout in, and Sal provided an enticing moving target that would shit talk. It gave Lou a fun change from the roughly carved ballistic dummies that he regularly reduced to smithereens.
Sal could still throw a pretty good punch, and had an old bag in the garage next to his workout equipment that he’d take a stab at maybe four times a month. Living in New York, it was never a bad idea to know how to break someone's nose- and now that Violet was eleven, he made sure every now and then that she knew how to kick someone in the balls.
Sometimes he idly worried about Lou’s boys the same way he worried about Violet- but not especially hard, since the one time someone on the bus had tried to touch Raph under Sal’s watch (probably thinking he was a pet or something) they’d almost lost a finger. Raph had (of course) burst into tears. But he was only four, and a T-shirt and a hot dog at the wrestling match had pretty much put the incident from his mind completely.
That had been with Raph just excited to meet someone. Sal hated to think what the little guy could do if god forbid he got scared, or upset.
Sal had kept a very quiet life since his days of dragging Lou out of parties back in the nineties, and cleaning coke off the back of his credit cards. He still had one cigarette a day that his doctor begged him to put away, and his back gave a warning whenever he stooped to put his brogues on.
So when Sal opened the door of his downtown office, and fell through a portal in the floor, the chances of him landing on his feet were very very small.
Luckily it was a short fall.
He screamed, and hit the ground hard enough that his head knocked back against the carpeted floor, stomach left behind somewhere in upper Manhattan. His ribs protested the fall of maybe four feet that had put him directly on his ass, and he was only grateful he hadn’t busted his tailbone or slipped a disc.
The lighting was completely different, in a way that made Sal begin to feel the first stirrings of panic. He sat up enough to get his hands behind him and moved quickly backwards from the vaguely large, looming shapes he could see in his peripheral vision, blessing the stitches in his suit that didn’t rip at the manhandling they were getting. Slowly, and still sitting on the floor, he started to take in where he was.
A singular lamp out competed the bar of light in the dingy ceiling, and there was the smell of cheap coffee and paper that was wildly different from the polished walnut and sandalwood scented oil of Sal’s own office. (His receptionist, Theresa, loved to keep things tidy and smelling nice in a way Sal felt vaguely sexist for appreciating.) A copy machine guttered impotently in a distant room, and Sal could hear the murmur of voices beyond paper thin drywall. As Sal’s hands felt the rough tug of the cheap polyester carpet, he sensed in a deep, visceral way where he was.
This was a government office.
A public government office.
A voice carefully cleared their throat, so soon after his arrival that the portal was still cinching shut over his head. “Salem Munroe? Age forty six, male, species... Human, right?” Asked the bored sounding voice, and Sal nodded in a daze. He also instinctively pinged the way they said human, and tucked it away for later.
Since the person talking to him was a giant gorilla in a full suit, he thought he could be excused for not immediately getting to his feet.
The suit was actually pretty nice, all things considered- cheap, but not cheap, made of a very professional navy linen. It was tailored to fit around the swell of her shoulders and back, purple curly hair cascading from around her face and the top of her head pulled into a tidy coif that wouldn’t look out of place on a fifties housewife. She looked like she came out of a Hana Barbara cartoon.
Sal sweatily and shakily reached down to pinch himself on the arm, underneath the sleeve of his coat.
Nope. He was awake. Now his arm hurt, as well as his fucking ass.
The gorilla sucked air between her teeth, giving him a look over the paper folder she was reading from, as if doubtful. “... Right. Human. Well, you’ve been summoned under a Head level court order, citing...” She flipped through a few pages. “A Mister Jitsu? Lou, Jitsu?”
Sal stared at her.
Sal realized with a jerk of alarm that he was in a government office, and was being looked down on by a public government official. Sal would rather step in front of (and be subsequently murdered by) the world's slowest New York subway train than have a glorified DMV jockey look at him in scorn.
Sal stood up and smoothed his coat down, forcefully stopping the unsteady shake in his hands, and fixed his hair as much as he could with dry fingers. “And who’s asking for my client? And can I just say, you’re lucky that little portal incident didn’t injure me- I don’t know who your reference point is for ‘human’-” Sal made the remark in the same scathing tone she had used just a moment ago. “But it must be pretty unreliable if you think that’s an appropriate way to transport someone with a vertical spine.”
“Are you injured?” Asked the gorilla in a bored tone, and Sal channeled every ounce of his haughty disrespect he still retained to clean a fleck of lint off his sleeve.
He sniffed. “That remains to be seen. I won’t ask you again, because my time is very valuable, Miss…” Sal made a show of peering around on the cluttered desk for a name plate. “Adora.” Sal read, doubtfully. “Specifically, I’m on retainer for five hundred an hour before salary. So unless there are actual charges against my client, I will ask one more time: who brought me here, and where am I sending the bill for my time?”
Adora licked a thumb as wide as a post it note, and paged through some files behind the court summons. Sal didn’t try to read through the back of the paper, because the lighting in here was too shitty to try anyway. “Your client, Mister Jitsu, is being summoned to the Hidden Court citing crimes against Yokai kind, as well as termination of parental rights.”
She frowned at the paper as if reading something off, but soldiered on after only a moment of hesitation. Sal was glad, so she didn’t have to see what his face did at that moment. “He has three weeks to respond to the charges-“
“He’s not responding to anything until I get a consultation.” Sal demanded. His heart was racing so hard he was starting to think his doctor had a point about his cholesterol; it was making him feel faint and sick, so he put a mask of righteous indignation on to hide the fact that he was forcibly trying to calm his heart rate to something that didn’t make him think he was going to need a hospital. Who knew if they even had hospitals in this… Wherever the fuck he was.
“We don’t normally provide consults…” Adora said narrowly, but slowly. Sal recognized the reaction for what it was; someone who was thinking ‘there’s nothing saying we can’t’, but not wanting to say it in front of the person asking, because it would make more work for them.
“If you won’t provide consultation there’s nothing to discuss and I will be leaving.”
Adora looked like she was finally taking him seriously with that, and sighed heavily.
"We have some people on call, I'm sure someone will be able to give you assistance, but-"
"I'm not a citizen of your City and you expect me to defend my client without familiarizing myself with the basic municipal law?" Sal demanded, putting every ounce of disbelief into his voice that he could.
"Call whoever you have to ma'am. I have all day."
He was lying, but she didn't seem to even care enough to try and figure that out. Sal had finally reached the point of an argument every lawyer dreamed of- making themselves annoying enough that someone would acquiesce just to get them out of the room.
Damn. He still got it.
Sal had time to collect himself in the spare office they showed him to, piled floor to ceiling with boxes of files, a battered wooden table shoved to one side where it could be sandwiched by two chairs without enough space to even pull out. With an air or resignation Sal sat himself on a small stack of boxes, ignoring the way it creaked warningly.
He pulled his phone out, and sure enough, no bars. Although if T-Mobile had bars down here, he was going to have a lot more questions than he already had. Instead of making a very hysterical phone call he pulled out his note app, and started writing down everything he’d seen so far.
The office layout, the receptionist, even the sounds he’d heard- all he knew about the Hidden City was what he’d managed to pry from Lou when he was drunk, or weepy, or both. It was like pulling teeth, and Sal would feel bad about it, but-
Well. If he was going to try to protect Lou and his family from what was coming, he needed to know.
Now he was regretting not pushing harder, because he was underground, possibly in another fucking dimension, without his blood pressure medication, or even a bottle of fucking water.
It was almost a full forty minutes until he heard someone coming down the hall with the actual intent to stop. There were plenty of footsteps going back and forth, but none had come even close to showing interest in what Sal was increasingly more certain wasn’t a spare office at all, and was in fact a storage room for war crime files or some shit.
(The one box he’d hesitantly opened had started whispering at him in a gust of fetid green smoke, so he’d slammed it shut and didn’t open any more. With his luck he’d catch demon anthrax and bring it home to Violet. He had her next week for her soccer meet and she already was starting to suspect her old man wasn't quite as cool as she used to think. Heart breaking, but normal.)
The footsteps outside the door had an odd, light gait- but he wouldn’t be a good lawyer if he didn’t recognize the sound of heels on carpet too cheap and thin to disguise the click. Sure enough, when the door opened, he was looking at a yokai.
She was short, maybe only up to Sal’s chin, which made him feel better about his odds if this was some kind of hitman. Her fur was a white so blinding that it changed color with the office lights, and she had dark coal markings around her mouth and eyes that Sal couldn't tell were makeup or not. She was wearing a pencil skirt and suit both in modest dove gray, with a silky blue blouse buttoned to the throat over a silvery gray tie-tab.
“Mr. Munroe?” She asked, and her voice was so quiet that Sal had to strain to hear it over the sudden clamor from the other offices, now that the door was opened. Christ, they might as well have put him in a fucking mausoleum.
“That’s me- pleasure.” Sal held his hand out to shake, and the rabbit looked down, startled at it, her ears swiveling. After a moment's hesitation she reached out and took it around the files clutched tight to her chest. Her paw was warm and soft, without any kind of paw pads. Just the pinprick of neatly filed claws against the heel of his hand, and the cup of his fingers.
“... Mariko. Akiyama Mariko.” She introduced, shoulders dipping slightly as if in apology.
“You’re my consultant?” Sal sat back against the boxes he’d been using. Mariko wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything against it, instead choosing to stand near the table. It was old and scuffed, and made from a purple wood Sal didn’t recognize. It had almost no grain to it, nor the same striation you’d get from trees. He thought it might not have been wood at all; but it certainly wasn’t plastic, or metal, so he left it as a mystery for his note app.
He wasn’t shy about pulling it out either- fuck them if they thought it was rude, but he was honestly impressed he hadn’t had a nervous melt down already.
“You a lawyer?” Sal didn’t say ‘they better not have stuck me with a fucking intern’, but it was strongly implied.
“... No, I am. Ah. A public defender, I suppose you would call it.” Mariko murmured, laying the files out and opening them one by one to reveal the contents.
Sal winced. Not much better.
“The charges against your client are- well. Extreme.” Mariko had a very calm, quiet voice, but it sounded slightly strained as she said this. “We have two charges total-”
“Both bullshit, I’m sure.” Sal said, loudly enough and rudely enough that if anyone was listening on the other side of the door, they’d absolutely hear it. Good.
“Indeed.” Mariko said without commitment, but Sal saw her ear give a small flick of amusement. “I hope you will, ah.” She looked shy and uncertain, and Sal had trouble believing she was a very effective public defender if just listing the charges made her look like she was holding a loaded gun. “I do not think they are as bad as they sound, or. Or I would not be nearly so optimistic of our chances, after all-”
“Please just- let’s just. Get this over with.” Sal asked wearily. “But, do we have to do it here? The cheap carpet is going to make me break out in hives.” Sal didn’t add that he had seen the secretary (or whatever) pulling out the biggest pair of nail clippers he’d ever seen in his life before he’d been shown to this room, and he didn’t think it was for her hands. He wanted to be out and in the fresh air as soon as yesterday.
Mariko smiled at him. She probably knew what he was thinking, if she worked there as often as he suspected. “Well. I may know a place.”
Mariko led him out of the police station, and Sal got his first look at the Hidden City.
A long time ago, Lou had told him about the City in the barest of descriptions. Not because he needed to, but because Sal had asked. He didn’t want to bring up any trauma, but. A whole other world? Right below their feet?
He had to know something. Lou had described it as colorful, chaotic, hellish- and not hellish in the sense that it was a miserable torture, because for all that was Lou’s experience, written across the scars and pins and broken bones of his body- it wasn’t that for any one else. It was hellish in the way a witch's circle might look, or a Bosch painting.
The street in front of the police station opened up into a busy thoroughfare that had everything from eighteenth century carriages, to buggies, to horses, to centaurs- there was a huge tank of unidentifiable liquid with some kind of series of limbs in it, that was piloting itself through what might have been traffic, drawing swears and screaming in every language from everyone around it. Sal recognized Japanese, English, and Spanish- but also Arabic that gave him a jump. He hadn’t heard that since last Thanksgiving, when he could tolerate his brother in law for longer than two hours.
Mariko gave him a minute, her small hand- paw?- coming up to gently touch his elbow, and keep him grounded while his eyes almost spun out of his head, trying to take it all in.
Even the sky was insane. A great, green, misty vaulted cavern wreathed in its own clouds where moisture that stank of sediment gathered. He thought he could even see precipitation, off down the hill the police station was situated on.
Everything was moving, wheeling, ringing, loud, and he had to shut his eyes for just a moment before he threw up.
“What do you think?” Mariko asked in her gently accented voice, sounding sedately curious. Sal turned his eyes to her, and her dove gray suit and pale fur was like a balm to his eyes after looking over the city-scape.
“I think I need a fucking drink.”
“That can be arranged. Although, I do not consume alcohol this early typically- do you drink, ah. Coffee?” She asked, and Sal nodded desperately.
“Please.”
She laughed, and took his arm for good this time, leading him down the steps and into the street.
The crush of people thankfully was familiar, and Sal had received worse in Times Square the few times he had bothered to take Violet. (There wasn’t much there to see otherwise, for locals. If Sal wanted to see some jackass eat shit trying to breakdance, he’d go to the fiftieth street stop.) They received a good margin of space. For a moment Sal thought it was for Mariko- she was very graceful looking, and walked with her head high and her ears upright in a way that made it hard to imagine bumping into her, even accidentally.
But then Sal realized it was him getting the stares, and he bristled.
It wasn’t apparent, until he spotted someone stop dead to stare at him, and elbow their companion. If he’d had any doubt they were looking at anything but him, it disappeared when they pointed and said something to their companion.
Great. Now he knew how the boys felt. Although, being brown in the United States was its own special carousel, that he was incredibly depressed to find prepared him for not reacting when people pointed like jackasses.
Well. Normally not reacting, until he felt a heavy whuffing gust of wind down his back that stank of old meat and- strangely- some kind of herbal tea. He spun to see a yokai inspecting him closely from about two feet away, a couple of its friends gathered behind it as if waiting to see what would happen.
“Hey, you got five fucking eyes and a whole fucking street pal, how about you keep it to yourself.” Sal snapped, instinctively, startling the yokai in all five of its eyes. It looked faintly wolf-like and shaggy gray, with a few more sets of eyes and limbs than Sal was used to seeing. It stood on its hind legs, putting it about three feet over his and Mariko’s heads, and its friends were if anything bigger.
The eye on its forehead blinked, and Sal felt Mariko’s grip tighten on his arm, although her face remained placid with polite interest.
“Hrrrrr, yer a human.” The thing growled, and Sal moved forward into its space.
“Yeah? Want to take a fucking picture? It’ll last longer.”
The wolf thing’s eyes crossed, the one on its forehead stalk blinking in confusion. “Hrrrr, what’s a pick-cher? ” There was a discussion behind it with the friends, that it flicked an ear to listen to. Sal highly doubted the peanut gallery had anything to add.
“Figure it out yourself- and back the fuck up while you’re at it.” Sal snapped, and to his surprise the wolf startled back when he took a step forward.
He turned his gaze to the rest of the crowd that had paused, and was gratified to see them make themselves look busy, eyes cast away and no longer following at a crushing pace.
“Let’s go. I really want that fucking coffee.” Sal said, and strode off. He didn’t know where he was going, but Mariko caught up with a graceful half-hop that had her looking the most rabbit-like yet. The wolf didn’t follow, but Sal caught it scratching its head in confusion from the corner of his eye, as it turned to its friends to no doubt discuss this turn of events.
He was probably just curious, but damn. Personal space.
“This way.” Mariko said, gently steering him, and Sal let himself follow, hands shaking from the adrenaline and heart pounding. He was drenched in sweat under his suit.
Mariko led them a few city blocks down to a small coffee shop, covered in plants and hanging tendrils that waved eagerly at them as they drew close. Although some of the fronds brushed hairy feelers across their shoulders as they ducked into the shop, none grabbed or stung, so Sal let himself pretend to be composed.
“Hello!” Called the cheerful yokai behind the counter, a- well, dog? They looked patterned like a St. Bernard, although the snout was shorter, the floppy ears tucked behind a work bandana, and they had jewelry adorning their paw-like hands and wrists. “Mariko! good to see you- oh wow , a human.” Sal stiffened, but since the woman didn’t lunge across the counter to eat him, he let Mariko guide him into a small booth. The space in the shop was only big enough for one entry aisle in front of the bar-style counter, which led back to a small open floor that had four tables and two booths crammed into it. Mariko led him to one of the booths, and Sal could only be grateful that the store appeared fairly empty.
“Thank you Eleni. I’ll take the usual, and Mr. Munroe will take…” She trailed off.
“Red eye please.” Sal nodded, grateful. The yokai nodded, so Sal assumed they had the same kinds of coffee down here.
Before he sat, Sal shed his jacket and draped it over the back of the bench seat. His shirt was damp under the arms and back, but that’s what he got for wearing expensive linen in the summer. The air in the Hidden City so far had been either supernaturally chilled, as they passed gauzy, more ephemeral looking yokai- or as damp and fetid as the air that came out from the storm drains above ground.
“So. Public defender- how is that?” Sal started conversationally, resting his elbows on the table, and folding his hands over each other.
“Oh, about as enjoyable as it is for you humans, I am sure.” Mariko said serenely, smiling. “I know a bit about you humans and your life- I have had to go above ground every now and then, for charges against yokai who make a living in your city.”
“There’s yokai in the city?” Sal asked, incredulous, even as a slightly smaller dog yokai, almost identical to the first except for some punk looking jewelry that screamed teen boy- came and brought them their coffees. Their drinks were in patterned mismatched mugs that reminded him of those co-op coffee shops in New York.
The two of them nodded at the yokai gratefully, who’s name tag said ‘Achilles’. He looked interested in Sal, his nose twitching in what Sal strongly suspected was a thorough sniffing, but since he had brought them coffee he was willing to forgive many a transgression. Especially since he didn’t do it right down Sal’s neck like that fucking goon outside the police station.
“Some. They deal in trade with humans, and bring goods down below that we would not be able to get otherwise. It is supposed to be heavily regulated, but.” Her ear flicked. “That is not always the case.”
“Smugglers.” Sal said in amusement, sipping his drink.
“Yes. If you could call it that- it is mostly things like computer parts, plants, or books. Trinkets and oddities that we do not get down here.”
“Fascinating.” Sal said truthfully, feeling himself get renewed energy from the hot coffee. It was bitter as anything, but Sal liked bitter. “And that got you this case I suppose?”
“Yes. Not many know how to handle humans, or have even seen one- outside of the Champion, of course. It causes- ah. Misunderstandings.” She said almost apologetically, no doubt referring to the stares he was getting.
“Ex- champion.” Sal said, strongly.
“Yes, apologies. Ex -champion.” Mariko corrected, looking apologetic. “You know, most think he is the standard for your kind. More is the better, since it should offer you some reprieve from- ah. Unwanted attention.”
“Yeah, suppose it will.” Sal had thought it was unusual how fast that wolf thing had backed down. If anyone asked, he was going to tell them humans spit venom “Alright, so. Tell me more about yourself, besides that your job fucking sucks.”
Mariko gave a polite bark of laughter, hidden behind one hand. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Well. I have two- sons, I suppose you would call them, although one is more a nephew.”
“Yeah?” Sal encouraged. “I got a kid too. Violet- she’s eleven.” Sal immediately felt that fraternity click into place, between two parents who knew they could fill the gaps with talk about their kid. From the way Mariko’s nose twitched and her mouth curved into a smile, he thought she may have felt the same.
“Yes. They are… A handful.” She said wistfully, looking as if she wouldn’t trade them for the world. “Jotaro is six, and Yuichi- my sister’s son- is seven.”
“Geez. Love that age- old enough where they’re not going to eat anything that’ll kill them, but young enough where you can still tell them the McDonalds ice cream machine is broke.” If Mariko understood that reference, she didn’t hint either way, simply humming in amused agreement and sipping her chai.
They talked a little bit more about her kids to fill some time, while Sal calmed down and got used to the air. Sal talked some about Violet and his ex-wife, about Lou, about his practice. He felt the tension easing up from his shoulders in increments.
He was alright. He was in another dimension, and didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but he was alright. He could make small talk, he could handle this.
After only perhaps twenty minutes of small talk, Eleni came over and had a quick word with Mariko that he couldn’t quite make out, before locking the front door of the shop and flipping the ‘out to lunch’ sign around. The fact that he wouldn’t also have to put up with any oglers was a huge weight off his chest.
But it also brought to mind the reason he was here. After they had refilled their coffees and generously tipped Eleni, he cleared his throat.
“I don’t know, well. Anything about the Hidden City, or yokai, or… Any of it. I have a vague idea of what I’ve picked up from,” Sal waved a hand, to indicate Yoshi, but didn’t outright say it. “Why don’t you give me the run down like I’m new, huh? Before we get to the charges. I want Lou to be here for that anyway.”
“Of course.” Mariko said, setting her cup down. “Achilles, would you mind bringing me one of the tourist maps? Oh, yes , that one will do,” She agreed, as Achilles (who had been leaning nonchalantly against the counter and pretending to clean it for perhaps fifteen minutes) gestured to the wall behind them. They took a post card off of the board and brought it over, tail waving faintly as if happy to have fetched something.
The map looked about what Sal expected. There were winding roads and paths laid out like a gordian knot from the heart of the city, spreading like ventricles to the far corners of the cavern. The sinew between was made up of strangely sectioned neighborhoods; Witch Town, Mermaid Lagoon, the Brooch Market. There was even a place that looked like a pirate harbor, complete with a little cartoon illustration of a pirate ship. It looked like one of the maps you gave tourists to eat on as placemats, in the local diner.
“You guys never heard of city planning?” Asked Sal, disgruntled. He’d had the same opinion of LA when he’d lived there. A city on a grid was just sensible.
“No.” Mariko replied flatly, and at Sal’s uncertain look she smiled again to indicate she was messing with him. By how much, he couldn’t tell. “The city is laid out like a beast. Here, the Devil's Spine, which runs the length and is the main hub of transit- both spiritually, and mechanically. Many of the mystic energy lines that run the city’s public transportation feed off of the leftover neurological impulses here. It is easy to spot as well, if you are ever lost.” Mariko’s clawed finger ran over the paper, circumventing slight smudges and crinkles from age. It wasn’t a very recent map, but from what Sal understood most yokai’s life expectancies were in the centuries, so he couldn’t imagine there was a lot of city renovation. He hadn’t remembered seeing a giant spine running over the city like a fucked up train track, but he had been slightly distracted by- well. Everything.
“There is the central market, as well as the offshoot markets. Brooch, enchantment, the Witches Market every Full moon- it makes itself a dimensional space without asking however, so no map will reflect it until it exists. Then they will all reflect it.” Mariko said, like this wasn’t bat shit insane. “The Nexus… well. You know what it is.” It was depicted as a cheerful gladiatorial looking building like the Roman coliseum, with splatters of cartoonish multicolored blood and clouds of dust as if a Loony-Tunes altercation was taking place inside.
“Unfortunately.” Sal frowned.
Mariko’s claw hesitated on the map, her eyes fixed. “You know, it was not always the way it was. Long ago it was a central hub for warriors of all kinds, from all over the world. Guangzhou, Damascus, Kyoto, Constantinople, Athens… They all came to test themselves against the mightiest champions.” Mariko’s hand paused again on the little drawing of the coliseum, an old drop of coffee blurring the stairs leading up to it. “Once the jorōgumo gained control of it, however…” Mariko shook her head. “It changed. And when it moved underground with the rest of the Hidden City, what used to be was lost. At least, that is what I have been told .”
Sal was staring at her, hands wrapped around his cooling coffee mug. “Yeah? And who told you that?”
“One of my husbands.” Mariko took another sip of her coffee, to wet her mouth. Sal had to give it to her- although she had a soft way of speaking not necessarily conducive to court, she was charming and pretty. It didn’t matter if you had a soft voice, if everyone were leaning in to listen. “Miyamoto. He was a champion there, once upon a time.”
“The bodyguard.” Sal prompted, remembering her mention of him when discussing her family.
Mariko nodded. “He is not home often, for work. It keeps him wandering.” She said lightly. “Kenichi is the… I believe you would call it, ‘stay at home parent.’” She smiled, shyly. “He acts as if it is a burden, but I think he enjoys it much more than when he was working. He loves the boys, and the neighborhood keeps him busy.”
“Well good for you.” Sal said, truthfully. “What’s this?” His finger found a looming green cliff face, where there was only the faintest of nerve endings from the spine running to it.
“The Baronies.” Mariko shook her head. “It is where the remnants of yokai nobility make their home. Many of the manses and castles were taken directly from the surface with portals, and the result is… Secluded.” She said generously. “Especially since any power they may have had on the surface is overshadowed by the Council of Heads.”
“The- I’m sorry, Council of Heads? ” He could not have heard her right. Although, they sounded familiar.
Mariko looked at him solemnly, through pale eyes the same silver as glass. “Yes. They make the decisions for the Hidden City through unanimous agreement. They are ancient beings brought into existence by the sorcerers who raised the city long ago, in order to ensure its safety for thousands of years after.
And they are the ones bringing charges against your client, Mr. Munroe.”
When Sal walked into the Hamato apartment the next day, letting himself in with his spare key, he was mobbed by two of the little turtles as soon as he’d put his coat up on the hook.
“OJI SAL LOOK WHAT I MADE.” Leo cheerfully screamed, rocketing into Sal’s legs and almost knocking him onto the ground. Raph was close behind him, trotting at a much slower but no less eager pace. Kid was like the terminator.
Sal was almost crumpled to the floor in pain with Leo trying to climb to his head, but that didn’t stop Raph from latching himself to Sal’s free leg. He had one fist shoved up at his mouth to chew on the knuckles- a substitute for sucking on his thumb, which Raph knew he wasn’t allowed to do. Not because of any particular reason, besides his teeth were getting much sharper and Yoshi had nightmares about Raph hurting himself if he got startled with a finger in his mouth.
“Oof, yep, yeah look at that…” Sal groaned, leaning down to rub his shins- and also disentangle Leo from where he was trying to climb up his front. The kid was part lizard or something, and Sal was going through suits like hot meals because of it. “Wow, did you make that all by yourself?” He asked weakly, even as he fumbled into one of the other coats on the coat rack, and sure enough, found a chew toy in a pocket.
“Yeah ALL by myself! Miss Regan helped!” Leo turned himself upside down in Sal’s arms to slide to the floor headfirst, but Sal (much used to this) simply hooked him by one foot to carry like a large fish. Leo was waving an indistinct and damp piece of paper that looked like it was shedding glitter and shredded plastic of some kind. If there was any shape drawn on it Sal couldn’t make it out, but the kid sure seemed delighted. Sal quietly resigned himself to laundering yet another suit.
Raph remained on his leg, now chewing a toy instead of his knuckles and tail thumping happily, so Sal left him be and stumped with one leg dragging all the way to the kitchen.
Lou had Donnie in a chair where it looked like some kind of hostage negotiation was taking place, Mike tucked in the sling on Lou’s chest and looking pleased as punch about it. The kid was almost four now and a little old for it, but he was also about half the size of a human four year old and as cuddly as a tick.
It also gave him a front row view of what had become an almost daily frustration for Lou.
“Purple I will give you five dollars if you just eat your applesauce.” Lou was begging. “You love applesauce- look! No cinnamon.” Lou ate a bite himself demonstratively, adding a convincing ‘mmm-mm’, but Donnie looked unmoved.
‘No.’ He said, and kicked his feet sullenly to boot, chin tucked into his chest. Sal couldn’t wait to see this kid as a teenager.
“What is it? Is it too cold?” Lou frowned down at the bowl, looking close to tears. “Too warm? Do you want crackers? ” Lou asked enticingly. He was wearing sweats and- of course- no shirt because he loved making Sal’s life difficult. He also looked tired, dark circles smudged under his eyes and hair pulled back in his little housewife scarf he liked to use when he didn’t feel like styling his hair.
Donnie’s face scrunched up at the mere idea of something like crackers (a snack he would commit murder for on any other day), and smacked a hand on the chair in a fit of frustration, eyes still fixed on the floor.
“Donnie wants orange-ds!” Leo chirped helpfully as they walked in, where he was dangling upside down from Sal’s outstretched arm, and trying to get up far enough to grab Sal’s tie and probably strangle him with it.
“Oranges?” Lou asked with a frown. “We do not have oranges- no, wait!” Lou snapped his fingers and pushed from the table. “Apples- we have apples, do you want apples? They are not mushy at all, please want apples Purple, Daddy is very tired-”
“Hey Lou.” Sal interrupted, before Donnie, Lou, or both could burst into tears. Sal checked his mental calendar, and was relieved to remember that Xander would be in today at noon, after he took care of something for his parents.
(And then probably thirty minutes after that, when he wasted time flirting badly with the kid on the front desk.)
“Yes, yes, hello Oji Sal, we are just trying to finish breakfast!” Lou said in the desperate tone of someone with a gun to their head. Donnie finally looked up as Sal moved to deposit Leo, then Raph into chairs where they would hopefully sit still for a few minutes while Sal helped tidy the kitchen a bit.
Donnie’s snout was wrinkled, eyes looking shiny behind his little goggles as Sal caught him observing his Dad carefully. He sniffed and rubbed his snout with a sleeve, and finally signed ‘sorry-daddy-apple-yes-problem-sorry.’
Sal sighed, while Lou just groaned. “No, no no, my little Purple, no- ' He leaned forward to press kisses to Purple’s foot (the only part he would tolerate at the moment probably), lifting it and making exaggerated smacking noises which caused Donnie to wiggle and squeak. How Lou managed that shit without getting an eye taken out Sal didn’t know- Donnie was about three seconds from maiming someone at all times, and he had the scars to prove it. “No problem, my beautiful, handsome, smart little sons could never be a problem-”
“Beautiful Donnie! Smart Donnie! Stinky, smelly, Donnie, dummy Donnie-” Leo started singing, blowing a loud raspberry as accompaniment, and causing Raph and Mikey to burst into giggles.
Donnie hissed over at Leo, but seemed distracted from his tears for the moment. ‘No-smelly! Leo-stink-fart-’
“Who taught my beautiful sons this language?” Lou demanded with a gasp, putting the applesauce down so he could cover Mikey’s ears- and after a moment's thought, covered his eyes with one hand instead.
“They’re in school now Lou.” Sal said in amusement, as he rolled his shirt sleeves up to start washing some dishes. “They’re gonna hear much worse.”
Lou ignored him. “Purple, you do not have to eat it if you don’t want to, I am very sorry if I made you feel like you have to- here, how about a glass of milk. Do you want some milk?”
Donnie looked reluctantly interested and nodded. ‘Purple-milk?’ He asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Yes, yes, your special drink. I can do the strawberry flavor, yes?” Lou moved to go get the powder drink mix from the cupboard.
“I want Donnie drink!” Leo demanded from the counter.
“You already had your breakfast Leo- you can have some chocolate milk. Yes, and you as well, Red.” Lou sighed, when Raph looked intently up, eyes wide and tail thumping.
Of course Mikey reached up to slap Lou’s face for immediate attention, so he put an additional small cup on the counter with a world weary sigh.
“Alright Lou?” Sal asked, already feeling guilty for the added stress he was about to bring. The growing stack of clean dishes would go a small way to making him feel better, but…
“Fine, I am fine.” Lou said, swiping a hand across his forehead and sighing. “The boys were up all night with the thunderstorm, and I did not. Ah, get much sleep.” His eyes flicked over to where Donnie was resting his chin on his folded hands, flat on the tabletop and looking just as miserable as Lou.
Lou didn’t have to say that Donnie was having a bad day, because Sal could tell. And if Donnie was having a bad day, Leo was short to follow.
“Aw, well hey. Let me watch the kids for a bit until Xander gets here.” Sal said, and was gratified to hear Leo clap and cheer. Sal gave him quarters for dumb shit on a regular basis to ensure undying loyalty. “Get a nap in, and I’ll throw some cartoons on for the kids.” He didn’t add that he’d see if he could put Donnie down for a nap as well, but based on the silent meaningful eye contact they were making over the little purple turtle's head, Lou understood the end goal.
Sal finished the dishes while Lou wished all the little turtles goodnight (twice in the case of Raph who would take any number of kisses in a row he could manage) and then at the last minute seemed to realize he still had Mike in a sling.
Lou disentangled him from the cloth and forked him over to Sal, before staggering off to his room to sleep. Most likely with the door open. Sal would go by and shut it in five minutes when Lou inevitably passed out- last thing the poor guy needed was one of the kids climbing into bed with him and waking him up, or screaming when Sal pretended to try and shake them like a can full of pennys.
Sal was left holding a wiggly Mike at arms length. He pretended to mean mug him, and Mike just giggled. “Ya’ gonna behave, or do I have to go dangle you over the balcony, eh kid?”
“Nooooo I’m scared Oji Sal.” Mike squealed unconvincingly, kicking his legs and giggling.
“Good, means you’ll all behave. ” Sal warned, reaching down with a free hand to scratch Raph’s head. He had some shed stuck behind his jaw that Sal rubbed with his finger, and when it didn’t come off, he left it be and made a note to put some lotion on it for Lou later. “Alright, grab your goop drink and let’s get on the couch. I’m f fff-freaking tired.” Sal distributed the chocolate milks and made sure Donnie had his protein shake, and herded the boys to the couch with the full intention of watching something horrible and jingling until the boys drifted off in an hour or two.
Donnie probably sooner, if he could manage it.
He just hoped it would make the rest of the day easier, before he had to break the bad news.
Later that evening (after a long day of Lou looking at him suspiciously as if trying to guess his angle), Sal was rubbing Lou’s back in careful sweeps, while the man threw up in the toilet.
It was like old times, honestly.
The kids were in bed, thank god. But it was ten at night, and he was crouched on his terrible fucking knees on the tile floor of the first floor master bathroom, Lou’s dark bedroom stretched behind him and his hand rubbing circles on his best friends sweaty back.
“Alright, get it out.” He kept it quiet, just a murmur of nonsense words and comfort like he’d give to Violet. “I’m sorry.” Sal said truthfully, gut clenching. “This has to happen though-it was always going to happen.”
“No. Sal, I can’t. ” Lou finally gasped out, reaching up to flush the toilet. Sal helped him sit back, and wiped his face for him with the ease of long practice. Lou gratefully allowed it, and knocked his forehead against Sal’s chest. Right over his heart.
“You can.” Sal said gently. “You will. This was always a possibility. We knew this was going to happen-”
“In human court.” Lou said weakly, rubbing at his eyes with trembling hands. “Sal I don’t know. I don’t know if I can, Sal, I don’t- I can not go back, what if-” Lou’s breathing got ragged, hands shaking enough where Sal caught them and bundled them into one hand, rubbing across the knuckles and pressing Lou down further into his chest.
Sal reached up one handed and fumbled through the medicine cabinet, his shirt already damp somehow and tie loosened around his neck. After a moment he managed to retrieve the pill bottle he was looking for, after finding way too much hair cream and aspirin.
Sal dumped a pill out into his free hand, and bit it carefully in half. One half went back into the bottle which he tossed carelessly up into the sink, and the other half he spit into his palm and carefully fed to Lou, who took it without question.
Lou’s breathing slowed after perhaps twenty minutes, where they sat in silence and let the house creak in sleep around them. Lou’s breathing gusted across Sal’s damp shirt front, slowing as Sal made idle shopping lists in his head, and offered an occasional thought that crossed his head about a show or book he read.
Sometimes if it was quiet enough, Sal could hear the twins chirping in their sleep, talking to each other. Their room was right across the hall after all, and Sal found a renewed reason to gently shush Lou, to keep from waking the kids.
He wasn’t going to say it ‘wasn’t that bad’ because honestly, it kind of fucking was.
But they’d handle it. Like they always did.
“Sal. Don’t make me.” Lou finally said, quietly.
Sal just rested his chin on top of Lou’s head. It smelled like hair cream, expensive-cheap-smelling cologne, and the incense Lou burned non stop to cover the smell of toddler crumbs and sticky dishes.
“‘Course I won’t make you. But you’re a Dad, Yoshi. It’s what you signed up for.” More, even. Sal sighed heavily, the motion moving both of them, and thought of all the ways they’d already been tested.
Lou stayed silent, and Sal felt him staring past the open master bathroom door, out into the yawning black of his bedroom.
“Will- will Big Mama be there?” Sal could hear him trying not to sound frightened, and make the question sound like that of a grown man and not someone helpless. Lou cleared his throat, and Sal gave him the dignity of asking the question again, this time without his voice cracking.
“No. I’ll do everything I can to make sure she won’t be in this trial. She shouldn’t in the first place, but I’ve been told she… Ingratiates herself into things that don’t involve her.” Sal sighed. He hated that bitch then, and he hated her now. “If she shows, we call a recess.” And he’d figure it out from there. Maybe he could bring a gun.
“...” Lou rubbed his eyes, and finally leaned back from Sal. His hands still felt cold where Sal forcibly held on to them, not allowing Lou to pull away. “What are the charges?”
“Well.” Sal said slowly. “That’s uh, something we have to discuss with our liaison.”
Yoshi blinked at Sal, finally seeming to focus his reddened eyes on him. “I am sorry, liaison? ”
“Yeah, a yokai. I’m just glad they’re not dropping me in there without any help.” Sal sighed, leaning back and allowing Lou to disentangle himself. He sniffled wetly and started cleaning his face, staring across at Sal. “She’s, uh. A rabbit? I don’t know if there’s like, an ethnic or racial term for them-”
“Oh my god Sal.” Lou said, forcing himself not to sound watery. His smile was still shaky, his fingers white knuckled around the bedraggled tissue he was using to rub at his nose. “...Was she pretty?”
Sal rolled his eyes. “Yes, she was pretty- and she had two husbands.”
“Ah, soooo possibly in the market for a third?” Lou waggled his eyebrows at Sal, looking pathetic as a wet cat. He felt a little like a kid as he reached out to kick Lou with his socked foot, sitting across from each other like a sleepover with their legs tangled.
Lou fended him off by kicking weakly back (charitably not snapping his leg or something like the superhuman freak he was), and after a moment of fervent swearing on Sal’s part the two of them settled.
Sal swallowed the dryness in his throat, considering the faucet over his head for a moment before deciding he as too fucking tired to get up and get it. (Also, his back may be a little fucked from the floor, and he was going to need Lou’s help getting up.) “We’ll be fine Lou. We’ll make some moves, take some shots, make sure no one down there ever tries this again, yeah? Just like before.”
“...Just like before.” Lou murmured back, before burying his face in his knees.