[CM] Rat King Returns [HatakeHime]

“OH PRINCESS!”

“IT’S JUST US. WE’RE LETTING OURSELVES IN.”

Shirahime Uehara jumped as the echoes of her teammate’s voices and footsteps reverberated from the entrance of her home. This was a bad sign. The movie hadn’t even started and here she was already on edge. To surprise the boys, she’d chosen a scary movie for the team this evening. The selection was unprecedented in the history of their almost decade long slumber party tradition, because neither boy thought she could handle it. Tired of being underestimated, tonight Shirahime was determined to prove them wrong. Even if she had to fake it, she gulped.

The kunoichi cast one last wary glance at the title in her hands. A novice to the genre, the young woman had no idea what constituted a great thriller, but she somehow doubted that Rat King Returns came anywhere close to highbrow horror. All the better. Ghosts, ghouls, and things that went bump in the night could haunt her for days, but rats she could handle. “I’m coming!” Following the voices to her living room, she was greeted by the cheerful sight of her teammates rearranging furniture and emptying the edible contents of their grocery bags onto her coffee table. “Snacks?” Shirahime’s cornflower blue eyes lit with excitement.

“Check!” her blond teammate, Susumu Ochi affirmed. “Movie?”

“Check!” she returned, flourishing the case dramatically to catch their attention.

“Great,” Chihiro Takamatsu grunted as he gave her living room couch one final push to make way for their tatami mats. “What did you choose?” Dusting his hands off on his brown trousers, Chihiro took the film from the woman’s hands for closer inspection. “I didn’t realize they’d made a sequel to The Rat King. It must have released straight to video.”

“Let me see,” Susumu swiped the case from the brunet’s hands. “Great! I’m in the mood for a comedy!”

“Excuse me,” Shirahime tapped the side of the case, “didn’t you read the rating? ‘Rated R for excessive horror, gore, and violence,” she carefully enunciated each noun.

“A scary movie Princess?” Susumu laughed. “I think you should reconsider your decision. Just think about it. You won’t get to enjoy your turn, because you’ll have your face buried in my shirt the entire time.”

“I agree,” Chihiro nodded. “Neither of you can fully appreciate the story without seeing the original Rat King first.”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Shirahime purred, “I’d say the both of you were scared.”

“Just for that,” Susumu raised his brow in mock annoyance, “I’ll watch your movie, and tell Kakashi Hatake you wet yourself in fear after you prove me right.”

“Deal! And when I win,” Shirahime gave his chest a mischievous poke, “you have to pet kittens with me for an hour at the animal shelter.” Susumu abhorred cats even more than she abhorred scary movies. The terror their tiny purrs would strike into his heart made braving Rat King Returns well worth the effort.

Susu grimaced, but agreed. “Deal,” he offered his hand for a shake. “That sounds far scarier than this movie anyway.”

“Well, if you both insist,” Chihiro sighed, “I’ll start the popcorn.” Inside the kitchen, Chihiro admitted to himself that he was a little excited for this movie. Shirahime’s selection was a pleasant change of pace from her usual romcoms. And while The Rat King was by no means his favorite scary movie, it did have a few good scares and twists. If Rat King Returns performed on the same level, he was in for an enjoyable evening. Returning to the living room popcorn in hand, Chihiro dimed the lights and joined his teammates on the floor just in time for the opening credits and ominous, dissonant overture.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Tsuneo. It’s just, ever since my father, the great Doctor Satoru, killed that rat king, I’ve had the worst dreams! I never told you because I didn’t want you to worry, but each night I wake to the sound of countless claws scratching underneath our floorboards. This evening, the sound was so real, I decided I couldn’t rest until I investigated our basement.”

“Never fear, lovely Rikona. There’s no way the rat king could possibly have survived the great fire. To put your mind to rest, I’ll go downstairs with you.” 

“Oh, thank you dear Tsuneo!”

“Look, my love! A bat carcass. This basement is so large and dark, I bet there’s a colony of bats down here. The scratches you heard are probably from their nest.”

“Perhaps . . . but then what killed this bat? It looks like something  . . . ate it.” 

“Cannibalism, most likely. Let’s go to bed now, and I’ll call the exterminators first thing tomorrow.” 

Here it comes. Chihiro’s eyes widened in anticipation. The first jump scare. Now that Rikona and Tsuneo had lowered their guard, they were completely vulnerable to the rat king’s surprise attack. Careful not to tear his eyes from the screen, he reached for a bottle of Susumu’s grape soda, twisted the lid, and raised the bottle to his lips.


“AIEEEEEEEEEEE!” Rikona and Shirahime shrieked in unison. Alarmed by the sudden hint of claw that slit hapless Tsuneo’s neck, the kunoichi dove behind her hands with a sudden jolt that knocked the soda from Chihiro’s hands.

“Shirahime!” Chihiro hissed between clenched teeth as a growing purple stain engulfed his shirt, “control yourself!”

“I’m so sorry, Chihi! I’ll fetch a towel. I wasn’t afraid or anything–it was just–there was so much blood in that last scene!”

“If you can’t handle a little gore,” Susumu smirked, “now might be a good time to rethink your career! You may be surprised to learn that shinobi have to spill blood from time to time.”

“All you two are good for is spilling soda,” Chihiro mumbled as he attempted to sponge himself dry in vain. The soda instead congealed into a sticky, fruity glue that adhered his shirt to his tan skin. Deciding to worry about it after the film, Chihiro returned his attention to the screen. By this point, Rikona had escaped to her father’s hospital to alert him of the return of his four hundred-legged foe.

“I am sure, Father! We must arm ourselves. Now that he knows the location of your lab, he could arrive at any moment to exact his revenge!”

“I’m afraid we’re too late–”

Forgetting his discomfort as the plot reeled him in once more, Chihiro grabbed a handful of popcorn moments before the appearance of the rat king’s full, monstrous form.


Just as the first grain of salt touched Chihiro’s tongue, the buttery contents of his hand went flying into the air as a screaming Shirahime made a mad dive for his lap. The popcorn, succumbing to gravity, returned to Chihiro and stuck to the fruity flypaper that now covered his shirt.

Susumu bowled over in victorious laughter. “Hey Princess!” he gasped, “I’ve got a new nickname for you: Shriekahime!”

“After the movie,” Chihiro exhaled slowly, his brows furrowing dangerously, “you two are going to help me clean this up before this mess summons an actual rat king.”

“What do you mean,” Susumu wiped a tear from his smiling eyes, “an ‘actual’ rat king?”

“You know,” Chihiro shrugged, plucking a few stray kernels from his curly hair, “a real one.”

Shirahime’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “You’re not saying rat kings exist, are you?”

Chihiro glanced up, turning from one teammate to another in disbelief. “Do either of you even know what a rat king is?”

“Why would I?” Shirahime crossed her arms defensively. “It’s not like I allow rats the pleasure of my company.”

“Rat kings form when a bunch of rats get their tails tied in a single knot. It happens sometimes when they live in dirty, close quarters. Because they don’t have much mobility tied together, they have to eat whatever they can find, sometimes even each other.”

Susumu’s pale skin suddenly turned a shade lighter. “Hey Chihi . . . have you ever . . . seen one?”

“No,” he grunted in annoyance. “I’m too busy cleaning up after the two of you to go look for one. Now watch the movie.”

Though Susumu tried to concentrate on the film, this new information burrowed deep beneath his skin. He’d never imagined that something so grotesque existed in real life. The shinobi had always hated caves and small dark places, and now that he knew of the monster that lurked within them, he hated them all the more.

For the remaining thirty minutes of the film, the group fell into a spellbound silence as the doctor and his daughter played cat and mouse with the rat king. In her final act of courage, the brave Rikona flung the rat into a vat of gelatinous medical waste, where it would no doubt mutate into a second sequel.


Except, not quite. Chihiro smirked as a giant rat claw emerged from the vat of waste. But before the final, crucial moment in which the rat king pulled the doctor to his doom could unfold, a frantic embrace jerked the shinobi back to reality. “I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU SHIRA–Susu?!” Glancing down, Chihiro was alarmed to discover two hairy, lean arms wrapped around his waist. To his right, Shirahime had dived under her pillow in a valiant effort to spare Chihiro from further incident.

“Susumu?!” she asked in a tone of disbelief, lowering her pillow shield. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“Don’t you get it,” Susumu’s voice quaked. “Zombies, ghosts, mummies . . .  those aren’t scary, because they don’t exist. But rat kings . . . rat kings are real. Rat kings are out there.”

Susumu’s teammates stared at him, mouths agape. After a moment of silence, Chihiro wrestled himself from his friend’s petrified grip, turned off the television, and grumpily marched towards the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. And next movie night, I’m bringing one of my little sister’s cartoons. It’s the only thing suitable for children like you.”

“Well Susu,” Shirahime turned to her teammate with a friendly smile, “it appears we have a tie. Truce?”

“Yeah, sure,” Susumu rubbed his arm in unease, “truce.”

“What are you so worried about?” the kunoichi slapped him playfully on the back and handed him a broom, “Chihi is our resident rat expert. He’ll protect us tonight, so relax!”

“Tonight” was small comfort, considering Susumu had, if he lived an average lifespan, 20,075 nights still to go. 20,075 nights during which he, like Rikona, would awake to the sound of scratching. Shirahime could never know, he decided, but perhaps he would swing by the cat shelter after all.