by Amanda Sun
“The sound of summer, ne? The sound of possibility.”
I reached out, cradling a glass furin in my hand. Possibility.
“Yuki-chan, look—” I turned.
I’d lost her to the crowd.
Panic started to rise in my throat. She wasn’t one to abandon me on purpose. Even if she did want alone time with Tanaka, I knew she wouldn’t leave me stranded.
Anyway, it wasn’t like I couldn’t get home safely. Taking trains around Shizuoka wasn’t a big deal anymore. Festivals just weren’t as fun by yourself, and the loneliness stung a little.
I clutched my fingers more tightly around the furin.
“You looking for someone?” the man asked.
“I’m okay,” I said, stepping back into the darkness between the bright tents. I pulled out my keitai, ready to call Yuki, and then stopped with my finger on the button. She’d wanted time with Tanaka anyway. I should just grow up and do something for her for a change, even something little like this.
I slipped my phone back into my bag and pulled the drawstring tight. I watched the water table a little longer and then strolled down the row of tents.
I stared at the different festival games interspersed with the food. Eel scooping, pet bugs, yoyo tsuri balloons on strings floating in the water. I finished my sweet potato, balling up the aluminum with a satisfying scrunch. In the next tent a pool of goldfish darted around, slipping out of the way of the paper paddles dipped into the water to catch them. I watched for a minute as the fish snaked out of the way, their scales shining under the hot, buzzing lamps of the tent. The paper paddles broke and kids shouted in dismay, while the vendor gave a good-natured laugh.
I shuffled closer to the tent as the group of kids left, now just a teen couple left trying to catch a fish. The girl followed a goldfish slowly with the paddle, her movements deliberate and cautious, her giggle sounding when the fish caught on and sped away. She crouched on the ground beside the pool, paddle in one hand and bowl in the other, her red-and-gold yukata crinkling around her zori sandals.
And then I realized I knew this girl.
The pregnant bump of her stomach under the light cotton of the yukata.
And the boy beside her. Tomohiro.
Not kidnapped. Not falling apart. Not dead.
Scooping goldfish with Shiori.
I stepped back. He hadn’t noticed me yet, the two of them laughing as Shiori tried to maneuver a different fish into her bowl.
I knew right away he wasn’t cheating. It had only been two weeks since I’d returned, and he wasn’t like that. Maybe that was the attitude he portrayed at school, but I knew better. I knew he was with Shiori as a friend, supporting her.
But it still bothered me. I felt stupid then, tall and ugly and awkward in my borrowed yukata. Flip-flops on my feet because I couldn’t find zori sandals large enough to fit me.
Maybe Tomohiro wasn’t as dangerous as Jun had led me to believe. He seemed normal enough squatting beside Shiori, eyes following the goldfish, a smile on his face. He wore jeans and a dark T-shirt, the usual thick wristband around his right wrist. I could still see faint ink stains streaking up his arms, the scars hidden on the other side, but it was the only trace of what had happened. He looked so…normal.
Maybe staying in Japan had been the wrong choice. Maybe I wasn’t useful to the Kami after all. Maybe they didn’t need me—maybe he didn’t need me.
“Yatta!” Shiori shouted. The fish had slipped from her paddle into the bowl. The vendor smiled and filled a plastic bag with water, ready for the new pet.
“Yatta ne.” Tomohiro grinned, reaching his fingers into the bowl to chase the fish. It swam between his fingertips, the ones that had trailed along my skin, the ones that had tucked my hair behind my ear.
I stepped back and my flip-flop scraped against the street.
Tomohiro and Shiori looked up.
I stared into Tomohiro’s dark eyes. I couldn’t look away, like prey. I felt ridiculous.
Shiori stood up, a hand on her belly. “Oh! It couldn’t be…
Katie-chan? Is that right?” Tomohiro stayed crouched on the ground, unable to move.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“I thought you returned to America,” Shiori said.
“Canada,” I said. My throat felt sticky and dry.
“Hai,” the vendor said, thrusting the newly bagged goldfish at Shiori.
“Thank you.” She smiled, reaching for the bag. And all this time, Tomohiro and I couldn’t move.
“Katie,” Tomohiro said finally, his voice deep and beautiful and just how I’d waited to hear it. My mind broke.
“Sorry,” I whispered and turned to walk away. I pressed my way through the thick crowd, desperate to get away. I knew I was being stupid. I knew it was nothing between him and Shiori. But it stung, and I had to get away from it.
Behind me, even in the midst of all the festival noise, I was sure I heard Tomohiro call my name, but I kept walking.
I wanted to see him, but not like this. I thought he’d been losing his mind, that he’d been in danger of the ink taking over—what had happened that now he seemed just fine, as though I’d never even existed in his life?
I pushed past the takoyaki stand and the rows of roasted corn, turning down a darker street where shrine-goers rang a bell and carried lanterns. I wove in between them toward the big Abe River bridge. It was late, probably almost time for the fireworks. If I could just find Yuki and Tanaka, maybe I could forget all this had happened.
“Katie!” Tomohiro called out. I kept walking, but I could hear his footsteps in the quiet alleyway, the soles of his shoes clicking as he ran toward me. His fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled. “Matte!” he said. Wait, like Myu had said to him in the genkan.
I stood for a moment, staring at the swaying lanterns as the small group of shrine pilgrims walked past. He held my wrist gingerly, and I knew I could shrug him away if I wanted to.
“Why?” he panted. “Why are you here? In Japan?”
“Good to see you, too,” I said.
“Hey, that’s not—”
“Hey nothing!” I turned to face him. “You’ve had your keitai off for two weeks! I thought you were taken by the Yakuza or the Kami or something, and you’re just scooping goldfish with Shiori?”
“Shiori showed up at my house crying. I’m just trying to be a friend. It’s nothing!”
“I know.” This time I did pull my wrist out from under his fingers. “I know that already.” I walked toward a nearby bench and sat down. Tomohiro followed and crouched in front of me.
“I didn’t know you were here,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, the wristband snagging on the strands.
“How the hell didn’t I know? The ink didn’t—it didn’t react at all.”
“I chose to stay,” I said. “I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t get on the plane.”
Tomo’s eyes turned dark. He sat still for a minute, then buried his head in his hands.
“Shit, Katie!”
“It’s not your choice!” I said. “I need to stay. You’re not okay by yourself. You’re going to need help—my help. I’m linked to the Kami, remember?”
“What are you going to do if the Yakuza get involved again?”
“Look, I thought about it, okay? But there are people I care about here, Tomo. Diane, Yuki… Do you even think I’ll be safe on the other side of the world if things blow up here?”
Tomohiro stood and paced back and forth in front of the bench. Then he swung out a fist and slammed it against the garbage can. The hollow echo made me jump.
“Shit!” he said again.
“Would you cut it out?” I snapped. “You’re right, okay?
Maybe it was better for me to leave. But it was my choice!
It’s got nothing to do with you. I’m not leaving, so just get it through your head.”
He looked at me, eyes blazing. “And what if what you choose is selfish?” he sai
d. “What then, Katie? If it hurts others, if it puts others at risk?” I felt sick. How had this happened? All I’d wanted was to come back to his open arms.
He collapsed in a slump on the ground. In a quiet voice, he added, “What choice do I have? I’m a Kami. Anything I choose will hurt others. I have no choices.”
This was not going at all how I’d envisioned. “I didn’t stay to hurt you,” I said, my voice wavering. I was not going to cry in front of him, but already my eyes were starting to blur.
I held on with everything I could.
And then he snapped out of it. He heard the tremble in my voice. He rose slowly to his feet, his eyes deep and lovely and melting everything else away.
“Katie-chan,” he whispered. I stood with my arms folded, biting my lip to keep the tears from welling over. I grasped for the last of my anger.
“I didn’t stay to ruin things for you,” I managed.
And then his arms were around me, my face buried in the warmth of his shoulder. His heart beat rapidly under my cheek, his breath labored as he clung to me as if in a storm.
“Hontou ka?” he said. “You’re really here?”
“I’m here,” I whispered.
He stepped back, tilting my face up to his, and he kissed me gently, as though he thought I might break or disappear completely. Like I was a ghost, a dream. I closed my eyes, drifting on the moment. His warmth, his touch, the smell of his hair gel. Everything the same as I’d remembered.
“Tomo-kun!” shouted Shiori, and the moment ended. We stepped back as she walked toward us, her new goldfish swim-ming round and round the plastic bag as it swayed in her hand. I didn’t like to hear her call him Tomo-kun, especially knowing that Myu had never been allowed to call him such a close name. He’d held her at a distance and made her call him by his last name, Yuu. Was Shiori really only a friend?
But that’s stupid of me, right?
“Shiori,” Tomohiro said. “Katie’s staying in Japan.”
“Ah, really? You’re not going back?” She smiled. “I’m glad! I was so sad to not even meet you after we talked on the phone that time.” She squeezed my hand, and I thought, She really means it. She is really clueless about the awkwardness of this.
“On the phone?” Tomohiro asked.
Shiori pointed her finger at him, poking him in the chest.
“The time you decided to be an idiot,” she said.
“Oi,” he stuttered, annoyed.
Shiori smiled. “Katie, are you hungry? We could get some yakitori before the fireworks start.”
“Oh, um…”
“Shiori,” Tomohiro said, his voice flat. The seriousness of it made me shiver a little.
“Nani?” she said. “What is it, Tomo-kun?”
“I’ve just discovered my girlfriend is staying in Shizuoka.
Permanently. Do you think maybe we could…you know, meet up in a bit?” The words hit me like a wall. Did he actually just ask that?
“Oh…oh, no problem. I’ll get something to eat and meet you after, okay?”
“Shiori,” I said, reaching my hand out.
She waved it away and shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay!”
she said. Her voice was far too cheerful. “I’ll catch up in a bit. This baby is always hungry.” She circled her stomach with her fingers, smiling too widely. Then she turned, and she was gone.
Tomo reached for my shoulders, wrapping his arms around them from behind, but I sidestepped his embrace.
“Don’t you think that was kind of rude?”
“Yeah, it was,” he said. “But I just want to be with you right now.” And he leaned in to kiss me again, and this time was not fragile at all, but filled with hunger. “You look beautiful in that yukata. ”
I felt my cheeks go hot. “It’s Yuki’s.”
“Come on,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Fireworks start soon, and I know a great spot.” He took off running and dragged me along for a couple paces until my feet started working. I let him pull me around the side streets, Tomo laughing when we almost crashed into some serious-looking lantern carriers on their way to the shrine. It was a nice change, running but not for our lives. Maybe things weren’t really as serious as I’d thought.
We rounded another corner, and there was a cast-iron bridge looming over the Abe River. A few small boats blinked with lanterns as they bobbed in the darkness. Tomohiro pushed his way along the crowds near the metal stairs down to the beach and grabbed a spot against the railing.
“Well?”
“Beautiful,” I said, looking out at the lights on the water.
Lanterns in a rainbow of colors hung from the railings, and the opposite shore gleamed with matching strands of lights.
The humidity of the air and the close-pressing crowds weren’t so bad here by the freshness of the river.
“Too muddy on the beach, but you’ll get a great view up here. Do you want a drink?”
“I’m okay.”
“You sure? I’m thirsty. There’s a vending machine over there. Iced coffee? Milk tea? Melon soda?” With each sug-gestion, he pressed his lips closer and closer to my neck until I laughed nervously.
“Okay, okay,” I relented. “Milk tea.”
“Got it.” And then he was gone, and the humid air felt colder.
I looked out at the lights on the boats, still bobbing. Everyone was chatting and laughing, waiting for the fireworks.
I hoped Yuki and Tanaka had managed a good spot, too, and Shiori—god, she’d made me feel awkward but I hadn’t wished that on her. Watching the fireworks alone, snubbed by one of the only friends she had. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
Tomo could call her and—
“Katie?”
My name, deep and velvet on a familiar voice.
Except it wasn’t Tomo’s.
I clasped my hands tightly around the railing, clinging to the cool metal as I turned slowly. Black T-shirt, black jeans—
he almost faded into the darkness. Blue lantern light glinted on his silver earring as he moved forward.
“Katie,” he said again.
My whole body seized up with fear. I stepped backward, pressing my back against the railing. “Jun,” I whispered.
“It’s okay,” he said, lifting a hand to calm me. “I’m not going to hurt you, remember?” And then I saw his other hand, wrapped in a ghostly pale cast at his side. His broken wrist, the one Tomohiro had shattered with his shinai. I stared at it, trying to figure out if I should run. “I’m on your side,” he said.
“Look, I don’t want to be friends with you,” I said. “I don’t want anything to do with your little society.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I wasn’t sure what kind of showdown we’d have with the Yakuza, so I called a few friends. I just wanted to be prepared.”
That gave me pause. I’d been so wrapped up in his weird Kami cult that I’d forgotten how he’d saved me and Tomo.
That without his help, we might have been—
One of the blond streaks in his hair fell forward into his face, and he lifted his hand to tuck it behind his ear. The motion brought back the memory of him plucking the cherry blossom from my hair. And then the way he’d protected me from Ishikawa on the Sunpu bridge. I felt so confused. Jun was the enemy—right?
“I’m your friend,” he said, as though he’d plucked the thought from my mind. I shivered—he could read me too well.
“Then don’t stalk me,” I said. “Stay away and give me space.”
“Katie,” he said. “I just want to help. You know as well as I do that Yuu is dangerous. But I’m not here looking for you, if that’s what you mean. You make that choice—if you want help, I’m there.”
“So why are you here?” I said. “Out of all the places in Shizuoka, why are you right here?”
Silence, and then he smiled.
“Because this is the best place to see the fireworks,” he said.
“Oh.”
<
br /> “Katie?” Tomo arrived from the other side of the road, a can of milk tea in each hand. When he saw Jun, his eyes narrowed. “Takahashi.”
“Yuu.” Jun grinned, his eyes gleaming. He lifted his arm so we could see his bandaged wrist clearly. “Want to sign my cast?”
Tomohiro pressed the milk tea into my hands, his eyes never leaving Jun. “If you don’t get out of here, I’ll give you another to match.”
“I’m just here to watch the fireworks, Yuu. I can go somewhere else if you want.”
“Yeah. You can go to hell.”
Things were escalating, and I felt powerless to stop it. So much for being linked to the Kami. I couldn’t even handle two idiot guys tripped out on testosterone.
“Tomo—”
“No, it’s okay,” Jun said. “I’ll leave.”
And then boom!
I jumped a mile, terrified. Did he shoot him?
Another boom, and the sky flooded with light.
The fireworks. I breathed out shakily.
We all stared into the sky, the fight momentarily dropped, as bursts of color spread across the city. The crowd around us swelled, pressing the three of us closer together against the railings. I became the barrier between Tomo and Jun, and it was not comfortable. Not at all.
And then I remembered Yuki’s words, that whoever I watched the fireworks with would be there for me forever.
Could I really trust Jun? Even Tomohiro was unpredictable. He’d treated Shiori like a jerk tonight. What if he did that to me—again? Who was really telling the truth here? I needed a better hand of cards to compete. I had to learn what it really meant to have ink trapped inside me, to be linked to the Kami.
Another burst of sound in the sky, but no color, just a brief oily shimmer as it splayed across the sky. And then suddenly everyone was screaming and scattering across the road.
Ink descended on us like a black rain, warm as the drops splattered down my face and stained the sleeves of my yukata.
Another firework burst, all ink instead of color, raining down on the crowd with a faint sheen. A woman ran past, covering her head with her hands. She bumped me into the railing and I fell forward. I dropped the milk tea, trying to grab at the railing before I fell headfirst onto the beach. And then two sets of strong hands grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me back.