by Amanda Sun
“That reminds me,” I said, the mention of birds bringing back the frantic tapping of the raven on my window the night before. “Why did you send me a paper raven?”
He leaned forward, his eyes crinkling in confusion. “A what?”
“A sketched crow or something,” I said. “You could’ve at least told me it was coming. It scared the hell out of me. I thought it would break the glass.”
He looked startled. “Wait, you saw a sketched raven at your window?” I felt the doubt spread through me, the slow heat of panic. He didn’t even know what I was talking about.
“You didn’t draw it?”
He shook his head.
“Maybe it was Takahashi?”
“Why would he draw a paper raven?”
Tomo took hold of my wrist, leading us quickly out of the burger place. We turned around the corner, but there was nowhere we could see that was quiet.
“Over there,” he said finally, pointing to some trees near the station. Hardly private, but at least it was a less populated corner to stand in. We stood with our backs to the travelers as Tomo pulled his notebook from his bag, fanning through the pages. Sharp teeth jutted out of the book, trying to slice into his fingers as they flipped past. The wagtails beat their wings against the paper, feathers lifting onto the autumn breeze and fluttering away over the station.
He flipped to the start of the blank pages, then carefully turned it over to the last drawing.
A raven, like the one I’d seen.
“That’s the one,” I said, pointing at it with my finger held safely away from its sharp beak. It pecked at the page angrily, pacing back and forth on its legs. “It even had three legs like that.”
“I don’t remember drawing that,” Tomo breathed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, scribbling through the raven so quickly the page ripped. The raven let out a strangled noise and sat still; it wasn’t dead, though. It watched us carefully with its beady eyes from the ink cage Tomo sketched around it. Tomo swore beneath his breath as he closed the book.
“You don’t remember?”
“Like the drawings of Amaterasu—I mean, when I drew you as her,” he said. “The ones I did in my sleep. I’m still doing it. I can’t believe I drew that.”
“A raven’s not so bad,” I said. “Better than a dragon.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, running a hand through his hair. The way he looked at me, exasperation in his eyes... I knew he didn’t mean it, but I felt so different at that moment. I didn’t fit in. I couldn’t. How could I know what a three-legged raven meant? I came from a different culture. I didn’t even know that was a thing. “It’s the Yatagarasu.”
“Yatagarasu?” I slowly wrapped my tongue around the word.
“It’s a special raven,” he said. “It’s Amaterasu’s messenger. It first appeared to Emperor Jimmu. And it was trying to get to you?”
I nodded, my thoughts in a tangle, my stomach in a knot. “Good thing or bad?”
He sighed, shoving his notebook back into his bag. “I’m not sure. Give me your phone.”
I passed over my keitai, and he started to search for the bird’s meaning. “You really need to update your phone,” I said. I wanted to think about anything else right now than bad omens.
He snorted. “I like my old keitai,” he said. “I don’t want to use my dad’s money. I want to earn my own way.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure if that was a good fight for him to pick, or a dumb move that left him back in the past century.
“Here,” he said, pointing at the kanji scrawled across the screen. I squinted, my brain working overtime to understand the text. “‘The Yatagarasu is the messenger of Amaterasu,’” he read. “‘Its appearance signifies the will of Heaven being done, or that the divine are preparing to meddle in the affairs of the mortal.’ That must mean we’re on the right path, then.”
“Or the wrong,” I said. “And Amaterasu is trying to correct us.”
“Look, we both had dreams about the Imperial Treasures, right? We need them, for whatever reason.”
It dawned on me, like a bright light flashing through my mind. “Jun!” I said. “We need the treasures to stop him, Tomo.”
He looked at me, startled. “You do realize you called him Jun again?”
“I didn’t mean it,” I said. “Anyway, Amaterasu said the treasures would stop him, that Susanou was never meant to rule Japan. Maybe the mirror can show him the truth.”
“It already did, remember? That’s what started this mess.”
I bit my lip, trying to think. “But maybe it can restore your power or something, so you can stop him. Or maybe the jewel has some kind of power. And can’t we at least use Kusanagi to cleave Susanou’s spirit from him or whatever you said?”
“You’re right,” Tomo said, squeezing his hand into a fist. “With the Sanshu no Jingi, we could win Takahashi’s stupid Kami war before it even starts.”
“I’ll talk to Diane about Tokyo tonight,” I said. “I’ll find a way to make it work.”
Tomo nodded once, taking my hands in his. He didn’t usually do that in public, and the feel of his skin against mine send a hot blush up my neck. “We’re coming to the end of all this, Katie. There’s a way out.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Our own way.”
“Absolutely not,” Diane said.
“Pleeeease?”
“You’re joking, right?” She leaned back against the kitchen counter. “There’s no way I’m going to let you go to Tokyo alone.”
I’d figured she’d say no, but it was worth a try. “What if I go with a friend?”
Diane smirked. “What’s so uncool about me, anyway?”
“It’s not that,” I said. “Not at all. It’s just... I’m so nervous about meeting Dad—Steven. Wait, do I call him Dad or Steven? Oh god. See? I’m a mess.”
Diane turned to lift the hamburg steak out of the frying pan and onto my waiting plate. “All the more reason I should come with you,” she said. “I don’t exactly trust him after he abandoned my sister and you. I know everyone deserves a second chance, but if it breaks your heart...” She sighed. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, hon.”
“I know,” I said, holding Diane’s plate steady as she slid the spatula out from under her steak. I carried the plates to our tiny dining table and put them down with a clunk. “But this is something I have to do for myself.” I slid the chair out and sat down, resting my head on my propped-up elbows.
Diane followed, cradling a glass salad bowl to her chest. “Well, okay. If it’s that important to you, of course I’ll wait while you spend time with Steven. But I’m not sending you alone.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “And the friend?”
She grinned, lifting her chopsticks and resting them in place between her fingers. “As long as it’s okay with Yuki’s mom, it’s fine with me.” She clasped her hands together, and we both said the customary itadakimasu to each other.
“Thing is,” I said between bites of my salad, “it’s not Yuki I want to invite.”
Diane stared at my frozen, too-big smile. “Is this a friend of the male variety?”
How had she learned to read me so well? She was surprisingly tuned in for someone who’d never had kids of her own. “You said you wanted to get to know him, right? It’s just a day trip.”
“Meeting your dad is a big deal, Katie. Could we leave the date night until you get back?”
But I couldn’t, of course. I needed to find the Magatama jewel, and I needed Tomo to be there to help me. “It’s not like that,” I said. “He has family in Chiba, so he’s not going to be in the way when I’m visiting Da—Steven. It’s more of a ‘riding together on the train and maybe having dinner all three of us together’ kind of thing.�
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Diane’s mouth twisted as she thought it over. “And his dad’s okay with this? I thought after that talk with the headmaster...well, he looked pretty upset.”
“His dad’s fine with it,” I said, almost too quickly. She gave me a funny look; please let my smile work this time. I mean, I wasn’t even trying to be that shifty. We were trying to sneak off to the Imperial Palace, not a love hotel.
“Katie, maybe another time, okay? I just don’t think...”
“Diane,” I interrupted. “Tomo’s really important to me. He’s really kind of special, you know? He lost his mom, too. And he’s been there for me. I think... I think I could face Dad more easily if he was there with me, too.” I wasn’t lying. Knowing he was there, too, would give me the strength I needed to get through the meeting.
“I guess I don’t see why not, then. But no sneaking off to make out at the top of the Skytree tower, okay?”
“Ew. I mean, not ew making out, but ew talking to you about it.”
Diane laughed, breaking off another piece of her hamburg with her chopsticks.
“I’m not planning on it,” I added. “This trip is to get things in order in my life, starting with Dad.” And finishing with the Magatama. “Having you both there means a lot.”
“Fine,” Diane groaned, waving her chopsticks in the air. “You’re as persuasive as your mom, you know that? I can’t say no to you!”
I grinned and shoveled the rest of the food into my mouth. I pushed my chair back with a squeak and carried my dishes over to the sink.
This would be great. Tomo and I could finally get some answers.
The TV droned on from the living room. “Not another one.” Diane sighed, and I turned my head. Another Yakuza, this time one in prison. I froze, unwilling to watch but unable to look away.
The reporter shoved her microphone into the face of some kind of spokesperson for the prison, who kept adjusting his glasses nervously up and down the bridge of his nose. “It appears to have been some kind of terrible accident,” he said. He nudged the glasses again. “It’s hard to believe, but he seems to have drowned.”
“Drowned?” the reporter repeated.
He nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose again. “The forensics report has returned an unusual amount of ink in his lungs. We think perhaps he somehow ingested ink from the calligraphy class taught at the prison. Perhaps a suicide attempt.”
Diane snorted. “Suicide attempt,” she said, flipping the TV off. “I doubt it. They’re all linked—they have to be. You know, in the last one, someone had written with ink on the wall?”
I shuddered. I’d tried so hard to block the news out. “What did it say?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“‘Kami Arise,’” Diane said, and the fear jolted through me like a shock. “Weird, huh? They think it might be a new gang name.”
“Totally weird,” I said. I stumbled toward my room, barely able to move my feet.
We had to gather the treasures quickly. We were running out of time.
* * *
I watched the rooftops of Shizuoka slip away as the bullet train rushed toward Tokyo. I’d skipped Saturday kendo practice so we could leave earlier—Tomo wouldn’t have missed it with the tournament coming, but he was still banned from school. The coaches were starting to shake their heads, though. If he didn’t come back soon, he wouldn’t have a chance in the competition.
Diane and Tomo had shaken hands at the station, Tomo’s hair flopping back and forth as he nodded his head in a casual-type bow. He hadn’t looked quite as tough as he had that day when he’d come to the door to say goodbye, before I’d almost left Japan to stay with Nan and Gramps. At least this time he’d spared us the ripped-jeans-and-chain-necklace look. He looked like he had in the headmaster’s office, top-student material in a simple dark wool overcoat and a pair of dark jeans. The only problem was that the dark ensemble made his hair look brighter and more rebellious.
Most high schools in Japan didn’t allow students to dye their hair, and I’d seen the slight rise in Diane’s eyebrows as she’d watched him swagger into Shizuoka Station with that copper hair. She was probably wondering if he was ever going to let the color grow out. Not that Diane likely cared if I dyed my hair—it just signaled something different in Japan, like a revolt against the norm. But at least Tomo had been really polite with her, shaking her hand and even smiling. No tough-guy act today, I hoped.
The bullet train had a pair of seats on either side, facing each other with a short table in between that I kept smacking the top of my knees against. Diane and Tomo had taken a seat on either side and then stared at me. Great. Where was I supposed to sit? What was the choice that would get me in the least amount of trouble? In the end, I’d sat beside Diane, firstly because she was family, and secondly because I didn’t want to be subject to her waggling eyebrows at Tomo and me.
The angular roofs and fields of green tea flew past the windows and my ears plugged as we sped up. None of us had really talked since meeting on the platform. The train got faster and the silence more awkward.
The intercom chimed, followed by a stream of polite information about the train in Japanese. A minute later the door between train cars slid open and a lady bowed before pulling a trolley through the aisle, the cart toppling from side to side, loaded down with bags of chips, bentou boxes and bottles of iced tea.
“So, Tomohiro,” Diane started, and I winced. I should’ve invited him for that dinner she’d asked me about a while ago. At least I’d have food to shovel into my mouth so it looked like I was doing something except wringing my hands. At least I’d be sitting across from both of them and I could give them looks when they said awkward things. “How did you and Katie meet?”
I felt the heat flush to my face as I laughed nervously. “Oh, we don’t need to talk about that.”
Tomo tilted his head, no sign of any awkwardness at all. “Katie watched my girlfriend slap me because my other girlfriend was pregnant.”
I opened my mouth, but only a strangled sound came out. I was too scared to look at Diane’s face, but she was deathly still.
“That’s...that’s not exactly true,” I finally stammered. “The other girl wasn’t his girlfriend at all.”
“Right,” Tomo said. “And she’s younger.”
This was not going well. “I mean it wasn’t his baby! God, Tomo, what the hell?”
“Is this some kind of joke?” Diane said. My jacket felt too hot; I yanked the scarf from my neck and unbuttoned the top two buttons.
“No, it’s true.” Tomo grinned. “It wasn’t my baby.”
“Quit it,” I snapped. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly making the best first impression,” I said through gritted teeth. What the heck was he thinking?
“The thing is, Obasan,” he said, leaning toward Diane, “I think we’re already off to a bad start because of the meeting with Kouchou Yoshinoma. You think I’m no good, ne? And maybe you’re right.”
Diane pursed her lips as she tried to make sense of him. “Listen, bud,” she said, “I’ve taught English at one of Tokyo’s more troubled public high schools. If you’re trying to impress me with a flashing ‘Look, I’m a delinquent’ sign, then I don’t buy it.”
Tomo looked shaken for a minute, then recovered with a grin. “I see where Katie gets her determination.”
“Katie knows what she wants,” Diane said. “And if she thinks you’re worth spending time with, then you better earn it. So enough tough-guy act, okay?”
He fell silent then, thinking back on his actions. His head bobbed up and down, his expression embarrassed. “Warui, Diane-san,” he apologized. “I wasn’t fair to you. And to be clear, I never cheated on my past girlfriend.”
“Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes. I fought back the urge to kick him under the minitable. “I woul
dn’t choose a guy like that.”
“Look, let’s start over,” Diane said. “Try not to be on the defensive, Tomohiro, okay? Some adults are worth trusting.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. Was he used to adults rejecting him as trouble? His dad definitely did. Is that why he was putting on this uncomfortable show? And here I thought he’d be on his best behavior with Diane.
Monsters bite when cornered, said a whisper in my mind. I could feel the voices gathering on the wind. No, I thought, shaking the feeling away. Not now.
“So, Katie tells me you have family in Chiba.”
He nodded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back into his chair. “My aunt,” he said. “And two cousins.”
Diane smiled. “Same age?” She was way more forgiving than I thought I could be. I was still dwelling on the awful fallout that could’ve happened from Tomo’s story.
“Younger,” he said. “Two boys.”
I hadn’t known this about him. It was strange to think about his life this way, that he had a normal family outside of his life as a Kami.
“And is that why you’re going in today?” Diane said.
Oh. This is where this was going. She was skeptical about why Tomo was on this trip with us. Well, I didn’t blame her. We were up to something, after all. Just not whatever it was she was thinking—like, possibly, a love hotel. My cheeks burned.
“I’d promised to look in on them for my dad,” Tomo said, unfazed. He’d been ready for questions like these, prepared by a lifetime of lying. “My uncle died a few months ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Diane said, shifting in her chair and glancing out the window.
The train ducked into a tunnel, the light blotting out around us. My ears plugged from the pressure, but just as quickly the tunnel was gone, and the bright light of early morning flooded in the windows again. Fields of rice and colorful houses spread out behind the constant fence of electrical wires that followed alongside the train tracks.
“It’s okay,” Tomo said. “We weren’t that close. I don’t see them that often.”