Chapter 4

Home ... to my own bed, my own bath and my own garden ... to be ‘Japanese’. I shucked my uniform, changed clothes and examined my home.

I raked my garden, trimmed my bonsai, turned the tatami, built my portal ... no problem ... lots of foil metal work in the home islands. Finished, it looked like a real mirror ... reflected me perfectly. ‘How big a sapphire?’ Ya know ... if it’s required for the operation ... they ought to supply the key to the front door. Just saying.

While I was at it, I might as well refresh. I looked longingly at my brass fitted ofuro. Teak, a meter and a half wide by two meters long and 66 cm deep ... big enough to float two people ... and they didn’t have to be particularly friendly. I’d paid almost 2 million yen, a piece of a windfall percentage awarded for intercepting almost 22, 220,000,000 (that’s twenty two billion, two hundred twenty million yen), street price worth of heroin four years ago, for tub and installation. It was a purchase I never regretted.

“Fuck it, I’m going to soak.” I shut off my phone, filled the ofuro, set the water temperature at 43C (109f), stripped, showered and soaked.

“By the gods, this is heaven.”

In long enough to prune, I stepped out. To keep the heat in, I put the cover on, fluffed dry and stepped in front of the mirror. In doing so, I stepped on a blue sapphire.

“OW!” Bouncing around on one foot, my thought was, “That big. I’d better get that stone set in a ring.”

I turned on my phone, saw 22 URGENT messages to call work and called the most recent.

“I’ve been soaking,” I told the phone.

“I’ll be right in.” I hung up. Dressing took no time at all. The sapphire went in my pocket. My car was ready. Off to work. Busy day. Miscreants everywhere.

I forgot about the stone.

Busy week ... busy month ... rush rush rush ... here ... there ... all over ... ships to inspect ... smugglers to apprehend ... dream of Mioko.

Wait ... Mioko Fujiwara. Oh shit! I’ve been home almost two months. Sapphire. Sapphire? What did I do with the stone? I tore my house apart. Where did I put that damn stone? Mioko Fujiwara!

I started slapping uniforms ... stone ... stone ... envelope ... what the hel? The cleaners!

Sato-san, found this in your pocket. Pretty. STONE!

Needs a ring. Goldsmith!

Ask your phone. ‘Closest gold smith or jewelers.’ Wait ... I stepped to the mirror ... put a hand through ... and got dragged along with the hand. Mioko!

Several hours later I remembered why I came ... that too.

I tilted my head ... always look to whom you are talking. “Ceiling-sama?”

“Sato-san?”

“Does the sapphire have to be set in a ring?”

“Is it now?”

“No.”

“As long as you have it with when you approach the portal...”

“Ah, so.”

Mioko wandered out of the bedroom, “Restorative, please.” She chugged it. We heard a plop on her desk ... rescue folders.

Mioko said, “Time to go to work, Sato-san.”

The rescue was in the southern islands ... very Japanese.

A NEW Bank! First use!

I was the only Japanese available. Way to go, bro. She was a round eye gaijin ... decent enough looking ... if one likes the type. Held by a Warlord in the center of the volcano ... his army... 30 semi-trained farmers.

I borrowed an army from the local Daimyo ... fifty extremely fit and combat ready women. Army?

Like you wouldn’t believe ... The Daimyo was a Hero ... from Michigan. His sister was the most fit woman I’d ever seen.

And a much better swordsman than her hero brother.