Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

Almost a week later, Sal and Lou were standing in front of a very specific phone booth on a very specific street corner, on a quiet block of the warehouse district.

Mariko has handed out carefully worded instructions on how to safely arrive at the Hidden City without summons, day one of their little war meetings. Sal was grateful, because if he stepped foot into that cheap office again he thought he might actually walk out with some kind of medieval skin infection or something.

Lou and Mariko had gotten along upsettingly well, and Sal had listened to them speak in Japanese for hours while he went over files and did some computer research between bouts of anxious hand wringing and gesticulating. Mariko was an enormous help. She seemed much more familiar with human society than most yokai (for all she kept thumping her foot in alarm every time the water cooler in the corner gurgled threateningly at them), and it made it easy for her to understand where Sal was floundering when it came to simple differences.

There were similarities, of course; Judge, Jury, Plaintiff, Bailiff…

But the differences were stark and he could only hope Mariko had done her job and wasn’t fucking with him, because today was the day and if he’d prepared incorrectly -

Well, apparently the loser was at risk of being fed to a dragon or something if the Judge decided their case was too weak. But he trusted Lou to at least kill a dragon for him if it came down to it- Sal had driven to Glendale to pick up donuts for him when he was hungover in ‘99, and he would cash in the favor if he had to.

For all Sal insisted that Lou could stay home for at least the first day of the trial, the fact that he had his best friend beside him was an embarrassingly comforting fact for a man who was in his forties.

Lou had thrown up twice on the drive over to the innocuous alley they had been told was a gate, and Sal had been forced to threaten the cab driver with actual physical violence to prevent him from kicking them out. Nostalgia didn’t make it any easier to square up with a New York taxi cab driver after years of living across the country- they were surprisingly more resilient than the LA variety.

Sal carried his briefcase because he didn’t trust Lou not to drop it, and it had some sensitive equipment in it; also, he wanted Lou’s hands free in case he had to rip someone’s spine out and beat them to death with it or something. The booth yawned open in front of them, limned in poison green and rushing like the sound of water underground. Sal fixed his tie and smoothed his lapels, and when Lou started almost panting in poorly disguised anxiety he reached over and fixed his collar as well.

Lou was dressed a little slutty for old times sake, although in deference to his new home-life he also had reading glasses and medication tucked into the front pocket of his lavender blazer next to the pocket square. His cowboy boots almost looked normal tucked under his slacks, and he had been threatened with everything Sal could think of to keep him from wearing a goofy fucking tie. Or worse, a bolo.

Sal was starting to suspect the tie had been a diversion though because Lou had not seemed too crushed by the loss, and instead had an almost inappropriate number of buttons open on his shimmering golden shirt that matched the shade of his novelty sunglasses.

“I did not think I would ever come back.” Lou murmured as Sal all but rubbed a damp thumb on his cheek, his mouth crumpled from nausea and leaning his weight against Sal like it was the only thing keeping him up. The portal waited, a warm wind blowing from it like a frightened gasp.

Sal was touched and all, but it had been almost a decade since he was physically capable of carrying Lou anywhere , so he was relieved when the gate fully opened and Lou straightened himself up and squared his shoulders. Although neither of them were particularly enthusiastic- Sal had willfully walked into trials he wanted to be in less, and Lou had never been one to shy away from difficulty.

They stepped through into the Hidden City.

There was the familiar swooping feeling that Sal had gotten from his initial trip through the portal, although not nearly so disorienting since this time he was on his own two feet. Remembering the instructions from Mariko they kept moving, even though they couldn’t see anything past the spinning void of pink and green and blue. Sal’s shoes made noise as they came in contact with some kind of ground, but before he could even begin to think of what it could be he and Lou were blinking under the bright bioluminescent glow of the Hidden City streetlights.

Also unlike his first trip was the friendlier face there to greet them. “Welcome back, Mr. Munroe. Hamato-san.” Mariko was dressed in a lavender so pale it was almost gray again- perhaps to match Yoshi, although how she'd known what color he would wear, Sal couldn’t figure it out. He suspected they had a secret chat without him. She was in slacks instead of her usual elegant pencil skirt, with the smallest hint of a ribbon under her high collar with a violet gem hanging heavy from the center.

“Mariko-san, it is good to see you again.” Lou said politely despite the fact that they had seen each other just yesterday. Sal could see the mask come down, Lou’s face turning first into a rictus of careful composure, before slipping into something more convincing as he took Mariko’s hand and gave it a shake. “Alone? I was hoping to meet one of your husbands today.”

“Usagi offered to escort me, but I told him it would not be necessary.” Mariko explained, as returned Yoshi’s handshake with a fond smile and started towards the court house. “I have two fine escorts here, after all.”

Lou looked doubtfully at Sal, who flipped him off discreetly behind the shelter of his suitcase. Judging by how Mariko’s ear had gone sideways though, she might have seen anyway.

It was painfully early, and Sal had gotten the usual amount of sleep he got the night before a big trial. Which was to say, none. This wasn’t even taking into consideration the fact that he knew perhaps one third of the procedures that were going to take place, and considered himself lucky for the fact. He didn’t even bother thinking how much sleep Lou had gotten.

The boys were safe at home with Xander. They’d been told their Daddy had work to do, and Oji Sal was going to be helping. Xander had seemed to sense something was wrong, because he had looked a little tense and worried as he led the boys through smashing sandwich bags full of berries and bananas for breakfast to distract them from the usual dramatic waterworks they got when Yoshi and Sal left. (‘ Making turtle food ’ as Xander called it was a very messy and loud affair that the boys of course loved , and they even got to put on pancakes after they were done.)

The streets were mostly empty this early in the morning, and the few yokai that were present gave them a wide berth. Sal thought he could see some of them making note of their progress- but he wasn’t going to look and give them the satisfaction of looking nervous, so instead he just made the best guess he could of the kind of publicity this trial was going to get.

Probably a lot.

The courthouse finally loomed in the distance after perhaps ten minutes of walking. Thankfully the gate they had used was an official one, and they’d been able to avoid any dirty alleyway entries- or worse, more dingy public offices.

The road wound up a hill on a path probably meant for carriages at one point in time. Cobble worn smooth with age under their feet was patched with everything from asphalt, to smooth planes of marble, to what Sal thought might be ceramic , all of it combining to lead into a huge vaulted archway almost forty feet tall. Gargoyles swarmed and perched over it in every shape and size- even more varied and horrific than those above ground in New York City. Horns and tails and teeth all bristled from the smooth stone like they were forming the structure itself, until Sal made out the crenelations that they were stuck to like monstrous cicadas. 

Sal thought he saw a few move, and felt Lou press his shoulder firmly against his.

“Don’t like gargoyles?” Sal murmured from the corner of his mouth as they scaled the steps. Lou was annoyingly not out of breath.

“...No.” Lou said firmly, still looking smooth and implacable as the marble steps they were climbing.

Sal hummed. “Noted.”

Despite the early hour there were some reporters outside- and although some had more tentacles and feelers and teeth than he was used to, Sal had been a celebrity attorney for about two decades. He knew someone looking for a scoop when he saw one.

“No comment.” He cut off loudly as they mounted the steps, before a lizard looking woman could even begin speaking.

She ignored him, and Sal fought the urge to scowl. “Lou Jitsu, what’s your opinion of being back in the Hidden City- have you any thought of returning to the Nexus?”

Another chitinous yokai jumped in, and soon their little group was being pressed in on all sides, making it difficult to keep their feet moving up the steps. It slowed them, and Sal tried not to let it annoy him. They hadn’t been swarmed like this since someone had leaked the boy’s school field trip to the zoo. “Baron Draxum is still at large- what are your plans for-”

“Is this your representation, or a sacrificial offering to the Jury? Your thoughts on human farming ethics-”

“Big Mama has said she hopes the trial goes well, any plans to meet-”

“-A human hasn’t been imprisoned in the Hidden City since the 1600’s, do you have plans for your yokai children’s custody in the event that-”

Lou had almost done the worst thing you could do in this situation, and stopped walking.

Almost.

Sal had planned for exactly this, and gently took Yoshi’s elbow to lead him up the steps, lips pursed in concern and eyes fixed straight ahead towards the doors. Mariko didn’t look back, simply strode confidently with her dove-tipped ears pricked alertly and her heels clicking on the marble.

Not so gentle was the four inch pin Sal had hidden between two fingers that stabbed into the tender skin of Lou’s arm through his suit sleeve.

Lou didn’t show he felt it but he did start moving, face implacable and eyes hidden behind his trademark shades. The crowd was blocking the door, and while they hadn’t moved for a now faintly annoyed looking Mariko, they did move for Lou.

Sal had heard from Mariko that his old fights were still in circulation on crystal balls, and scavenged VHS players.

He’d move too.

“Here for the Lou Jitsu case.” Sal told the guard at the front desk station unnecessarily, the reporters now held at bay by the two huge cephalopod looking door guards. The front desk guard was a huge doberman looking yokai, with one cropped ear and the other a tattered stump. The uniform was a slightly off color version of every other court security uniform Sal had ever seen, for all the person wearing it was about seven feet tall and covered in pitch black fur.

Lou looked tiny standing next to her as they went through the security check, but Sal didn’t miss how all the guards looked at him. Like he was dangerous.

Sal was used to most people in the- well, human world- thinking of Lou as just slightly silly, or slutty, or maybe sad when some photos had dropped prior to rehab back in ‘92.

What Sal wasn’t used to was people knowing what Sal himself knew- that Hamato Yoshi was one of the most dangerous people in any room he was in, magic or no magic.

The security treated him like a loaded gun as they waved a crystal over first Mariko, then Sal, and finally Lou. it glowed a soft green until it got to Lou, where it pulsed a sullen sulfur yellow.

This didn’t seem to disqualify them from entry or anything- just caused the guards to share what Sal could tell was a nervous glance as they waved them in.

And then they were in the courtroom.

The plaintiff was already at their table to the right, and Sal pretended not to be looking as closely as he was as he, Mariko, and Lou passed through the bar to their own table.

The council of heads wasn’t there, obviously, since according to Mariko during their planning sessions they wouldn’t show for anything but the fate of the City itself; and apparently ruining his best friends fucking life didn’t qualify.

In lieu of them, there was the lawyer.

She was a sleek, well dressed female-appearing yokai in a silver gray chiffon style dress, the top half accented by a pure white blazer with greco-style panels running down the length. Her skin was almost the same silvery color as her dress, making Sal think of the ‘coin operated’ street actors at Central Park, covered in silver body paint. Violet was ‘too old’ for the street performers any more, but that didn’t stop her from watching from a distance as the other kids ran up to give dollar bills and watch the ensuing show.

Most notable though was the silk blindfold across the yokai’s eyes, and the mass of coppery green snakes piled atop her head. They were surprisingly quiet, and Sal only caught the faintest of hissing like a gas leak as he made to take the left turn to their bench. Although her eyes were covered, her stately head turned to follow them, and Sal caught the snakes peering at him through slitted, venomous yellow eyes.

“A human?” She murmured, voice surprisingly deep and graveled as Sal almost went cross eyed trying to find a snake to make eye contact with. She had a gauze silk scarf spilling from the throat of her blazer, so Sal wasn’t sure if the voice was injury or affectation. “Hmmm… I haven’t seen one of those in ages. ”

“Not since I beat your sisters in the Nexus.” Lou interrupted before Sal could think to say anything. “Still holding a grudge after all these years, I see. Euryale.”

“A fluke.” She seemed completely serene, but Sal knew if her sister’s getting their ass beat by Lou was a sore spot she would have smoothed it over enough to give no sign of it before-hand. It’s what he would have done. “Lou Jitsu. It is cute how Big Mama chooses to parade her crimes in front of everyone while getting away with it- but you will not be so lucky. I requested this case personally. ”

“Let’s not fraternize before the trial.” Sal said quietly, as he felt Lou stiffen angrily next to him. Mariko was already laying out their folders, and gratefully accepting glasses and pitchers from the bailiff; a tiny looking dog yokai of some kind, with large glasses and a motley pattern of white, black, and brown spots. Instead of trying to figure out the taxonomy of every yokai he saw, Sal focused on pouring himself a glass of water and making sure Lou was safely sandwiched in between himself and Mariko.

He wasn’t sure if he was protecting Lou, or everyone else. Remained to be seen.

The acoustics in here were incredible, Sal observed idly, as Lou breathed slowly next to him through his mouth, hand fisted into a sweaty white knuckled ball on the bench seat between them. They’d been through a lot of trials together, but this was the first one where Lou seemed to actually strongly care about the verdict.

Obviously , it wasn’t surprising. This was about his kids, and Lou loved them so much he was on medication for it. But it was almost surreal to have Lou actually paying attention in court, and not slouching carelessly with a hangover, or doodling in the margins of a notebook.

“All able, rise.” The bailiff called out in their high voice, climbing atop the bailiff seat to be seen by the entire court. Their voice carried very far , and Sal thought their profession made slightly more sense than their stature implied. “The Hidden City Court is here to cast verdict and fiery judgment upon the defendant, Lou Jitsu. Benevolently ruling, we have Judge Hieronymous.”

Mariko had warned them that the court was both more and less strict than human courts, and also that things moved quicker as a result. Sal wasn’t sure to be grateful or not yet, since half the charges in a human court would have taken weeks.

On the other hand, he only had one shot to get this right and a very wide margin of error for such a tiny window. He refused to let it bother him.

The Judge entered the chambers from the looming, ornamentally carved twenty foot doors built into the back of the courthouse. It took a bit, because there was a lot of Judge to bring in. They were a huge, vaguely reptilian yokai with pulsating sacs of venom and protruding gnarled horns like thickets of sick brambles. They had four eyes on either side of a sideways mouth that split the center of their snout-like face, with so many sharp teeth that some of them protruded from their face like bristling stitches on a gangrenous wound. Sal had been informed that the Judge was a species of yokai and not just a job designation. You couldn’t just become a Judge- you were hatched as one in some horrible mystical cesspool of a nest, and given a court to preside in by the Council of Heads. This Judge had been ruling for a few centuries by now.

The Judge settled in their seat, and nodded their cadillac-sized head. The entire chamber seemed to breathe out in unified relief, although Sal thought some of the Jury looked like they were about to faint from fear at being so close to the front of the chamber. The smell must have been horrendous- Sal was about knocked out of his shoes just where he was sitting. It smelled like something dead combined with a charnel house, gusting out in five second increments every time the Judge’s breath blew gusts across the pristine courthouse.

The bailiff continued.

“Members of the Jury, today your duty is to judge the accused crimes of Lou Jitsu, and align your verdict with the Judge in a way that you will not be consumed in bloody repast.” The Jury looked nervous, but according to Mariko this was standard procedure- part of the bailiffs job was ensuring the Jury didn’t flee at inopportune moments. Sal was doubtful looking at the tiny dog yokai how effective they might be, but he supposed they must have hidden depths if they were as confident as they seemed. “Agree now, or face combat.” After a moment of no protest or fleeing, they continued. There was a chorus of bobble headed agreement from the box that the bailiff did not seem surprised by.

“The case today is the Hidden City Council of Heads- and population of the City by proxy- versus the human, Lou Jitsu. The crimes and conditions accused are two fold; revelation of the Hidden City to humankind, and the unfit custody of yokai children by the defendant.”

Yoshi shifted next to him, and Sal did not look over. If Lou could not remain cool in the face of this, then the trial had no hope in the first place. But beyond a tiny choked sound, Yoshi remained seated and the bailiff continued uninterrupted.

The Judge shifted their great slithering bulk now, and the sound of shifting scales echoed through the dead silent court. “Prosecution?”

“Ready, you repulsiveness.” Euryale smiled.

“Defense?”

“Ready, your most obscene.” Sal agreed.

The bailiff looked expectantly up to the Judge like someone at the foot of a mountain. “We will begin with the opening statements.” The Judge called, slowly, with their voice gurgling like a faulty bathtub drain.

Euryale stood from her bench at an indication from the Judge, smoothing her skirt despite the fact that whatever silk it was made from made it hang as straight as the fall of water with nary a wrinkle in sight. She didn’t have any files on her table; just one of those orbs that people seemed to use in lieu of cellphones, and a matching pitcher and glass of water.

“Yokai of the court, assorted humans, and your esteemed grotesqueness,” Euryale tilted her head forward, and the Judge made a insouciant wave of their claws in return. “I would like to begin today's trial, by stating that this will be a simple matter. A cut and dried sample of just one of the many ways the human world has infringed upon our society, and made us suffer for it.

I would like to say that.” She paused for effect. The room was silent except for the great breathing of the Judge, and someone in the Jury box whimpering quietly. “But that won’t be possible, because this matter is far from simple.” Her heels clicked faintly on the marble of the floor as she made small, idle motions back and forth, turning to ensure she addressed the audience just as much as she allowed the Jury and Judge uninterrupted view of her mouth, of her blinded profile, of the snakes lying supine along her neck and shoulders. “Since a time barely remembered by our eldest in the community we have been here in this city, below the earth, where we are safe. The human threat stays above where they have forced us to cower below for centuries, and in the meanwhile we raise our children , we establish schools , we work our jobs, we survive. This has been as it should for centuries, and as- in this humble court's opinion- it should stay.

“Lou Jitsu,” Her voice raised, strident, and Sal observed as she stood in front of the Judge and Jury with the same calculating air of a pro athlete watching another. Her voice trembled slightly when she was talking about the ‘ children ’ , but now it went clear like a clarion bell. “Has usurped that safety. Not only was he committing violence upon our own in the challenge of combat for over a decade, and not only was he taking four yokai children with him when he ran like a coward to the surface-“

Yoshi made an aborted movement, but was stopped by Sal’s iron grip on his wrist, under the table and out of sight, his face unmoving and placid with a mask of indifference.

“He has also put our very way of life in jeopardy.” Euryale tilted her head down in silence for a moment, frowning, and Sal could make out the disbelieving and frustrated furrow of her eyebrows behind her blindfold. “I don’t want to believe the circumstances that have gathered us in this court today. I would like to believe that one man has not made the discovery of the Hidden City a forgone eventuality. I would like to believe that we are safe, and that this man has not done damage to the very foundations our way of life was built on.

“But that is not for me to decide. My job is to present to you what seems to be a very simple series of facts, and allow you to decide for yourselves. I hope to do everyone- not just in this court, but through the whole city- the service of not only bringing this human to justice, but also the service of keeping our city safe.” She paused and let her words linger, looking out over the assembled media and onlookers.

“Thank you for your time. Jury.” She gave a nod to the Judge, and then to the Jury box. “Your repugnantness.”

She went back to her bench and sat, not even looking Sal’s way- her attention was turned to her glimmering personal orb as if making a note. But Sal could see the golden wink of one of her snakes by her neck, tongue flickering in their benches direction and gaze unblinking.

Sal stood and moved around the bench when his time came shortly after, ignoring the nauseous look Lou gave him. Mariko was as still as a rabbit just inside its burrow; the only sign of anxiety was her nose twitching faintly, and the way her heel bounced on the floor. She had a good poker face though and he approved, her eyes faintly lidded and her ear flicking faintly as if she was bored.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted Jury. Your despicable honor.” Sal nodded at the Judge, who didn’t give him the same careless wave Euryale had received, but did look reluctantly intrigued despite themselves. Good enough- Sal could handle novelty over outright hostility.

“I am a human.” He started, standing with one careless hand in his pocket. “I have been working in human courts for almost three decades, and I am honored beyond belief to be here in this beautiful city, to see the sheer scope and magnitude of culture that has been here under my feet the entirety of my childhood, and to be in the company of such esteemed yokai.

“As fascinating and beautiful as I have found this city, however, I am not here as a sightseer. I am not here to be awed by the majesty of the Spine, by the mysticism of Witch Town, by the grand halls of your library or the winding history laid into the very paths that you walk every day, with pride, as yokai .

“No, I am here to tell you that my client, my friend, Hamato Yoshi, is innocent of the crimes he is accused of. The first charge, being that of revealing the Hidden City to humankind- through either purposeful action or negligence. The second , of being an unfit parent to four yokai children.

“Hamato Yoshi came to this city over a decade ago under uncertain circumstances, a very unwell man, without family, and without support. He legally existed in this city under yokai law that I will be happy to go into detail on, until his departure with his four children. Four children who under every law both yokai and human belong to him , with evidence that I am happy and willing to provide. He has suffered years for his time in your city and has never spoken an illegal word to man, woman, or child about its existence, nor its inhabitants in the entirety of time since departing this beautiful, and noble city.”

There’s a murmur of conversation at that, and Sal catches the faint glimmer equivalent of a camera flash going off in the audience. “The Hidden City is unaware of more than you think, and by presenting the facts as they are I hope I can lay this misguided and understandable attempt to defend it to rest. You are not in danger. The City is Hidden. Lou Jitsu- Hamato Yoshi, is a father, a man, and an ally to the yokai people- not a bogeyman here to reveal you all to the humans above.

“I will do whatever is needed to convince you of that, and I only hope that honesty and understanding will rule the courtroom today. Your horribleness.” Sal tilted his head respectfully to the Judge, and sat.

As he did so the Judge’s four eyes followed him in slitted contemplation- not quite condescension, which Sal would take. He wasn’t going to get approval , because he wasn’t here for approval. What he was here for was to prove that if they took Yoshi’s sons, if they held him responsible for a single thing that was not his fault-

Well. There wouldn’t be any law on their side.

Lou grabbed his arm, and squeezed it.

Sal laid his own hand over it, and gave one firm reassuring squeeze back.

And then they both watched the witnesses file in.