Storm

by Amanda Sun

  “Katie!”

  I kept walking, but I could hear his footsteps, his black shoes clicking as he ran toward me. Suddenly his warm fingers wrapped around my wrist.

  “Matte!” he said. Wait, like his ex-girlfriend Myu had said to him in the genkan when I’d first seen him.

  I stood for a moment, staring at the swaying lanterns as the parade walked past. He held my wrist gently, and I knew I could shrug him away if I wanted to.

  “Why?” he panted. “Why are you here? In Japan?”

  “I called you,” I said, but my voice wavered. I wanted to be stronger—I did—but after two weeks of worrying, having him standing here unharmed was more than I could handle. “You’ve had your keitai off for two weeks! I tried calling the house but it never cut to voice mail. I sent you a text.” Okay, more than one. “I even thought about visiting Ishikawa in the hospital to find out where you were, but I didn’t want to get him involved in case...in case there was trouble. I thought you were taken by the Yakuza or the Kami or something!” I left out that I’d biked to his house, but chickened out about ringing the bell when I’d seen his dad’s car parked outside. If Tomo was missing, he’d have reported it, right? I mean, it would’ve been on the news and everything.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, the wristband snagging on the strands, pulling his bangs into little copper loops that sprung back into his eyes. “Che!” he swore. “You’re worrying if I’m okay and I’m scooping goldfish at a festival. If I’d known...”

  “I tried!”

  “I was getting weird calls from the Yakuza. Threats to stay quiet about what happened to Sato. I barely deleted one on the home phone before Tousan heard it. My dad would’ve made me go to the police, so I turned off the voice mail and my keitai.”

  “Maybe you should go to the police,” I said. I hadn’t been far off the mark after all. The picture looked tranquil on the surface, but the tendrils of darkness spread beneath it. Nothing was normal after all—I’d been right.

  “You know I can’t,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “They stopped last week, but then the Kami calls started. I wanted to phone you, to know you made it safely to Canada, but...I was scared they’d trace the call somehow. And now you’re here.”

  “I decided to stay,” I said. “I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t get on the plane.”

  Tomo’s eyes turned dark. He crouched and buried his head in his hands, his fingers splaying through his hair.

  “Kuso! What if something happens to you?”

  I took a deep breath. “It’s not your choice,” I said as gently as I could. “I need to stay. I influence the ink, remember? There’s got to be a way we can get this under control. Maybe somehow I can make it better instead of worse.”

  “What are you going to do if the Yakuza get involved again? Or the Kami?”

  “Look, I thought about it, okay? But there are people I care about here, Tomo. Diane, Yuki...and you. Do you think I’ll be safe even on the other side of the world if things blow up here? And how can I just live a normal life over there knowing the Yakuza and Kami are trying to recruit you? It’s my choice.”

  “And what if that choice is selfish?” he said.

  My eyes widened—that was a low blow. “You’re calling me selfish for wanting to stay in Japan?”

  He hesitated, staring at the procession of lanterns down the cross street. A shrill flute played a haunting melody in a minor key, some of the notes lost in the noise of the festival as it carried on without us.

  “Not you,” he said in a quiet voice. “Me. Choosing to be with you, no matter the consequences. What choice do I have? I’m a Kami. Anything I choose will hurt others. I have no choices.”

  This wasn’t going at all how I’d envisioned. “That’s not true,” I said, my voice wavering. I was not going to cry in front of him, but already my sight was starting to blur. I held on with everything I could. “Faito, remember? Fight. You don’t have to do this alone, Tomo.”

  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.

  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 kissed me as though he thought I might break or disappear. Like I was a ghost, a dream. I closed my eyes, drifting on the moment. His warmth, his touch, the smell of his vanilla 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 swimming 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 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.”

  She slowed, a puzzled frown curling onto her lips. The frown vanished as soon as I noticed it, but I was sure it had been there. “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 my insecurity evaporated. She really means it, I thought. She is really clueless about the awkwardness between us.

  “You two talked on the phone?” Tomohiro asked.

  “The time you decided to be an idiot,” she laughed. Shiori pointed her finger at him, poking him in the chest. I didn’t like it, but I pushed the feeling down. It was petty and dumb.

  “Oi,” he stuttered, annoyed.

  Shiori smiled. “Katie, are you hungry? We could get some yakitori before the fireworks start.”

  “Oh, um...”

  “Fried chicken,” she said in English. “It’s fried chicken.” As if that’s what had made me stumble over my words.

  “Shiori,” Tomohiro said. The seriousness of his voice made me shiver a little.

  “Hmm, Tomo-kun?”

  “She knows what yakitori is. And 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?”

  “Are you sure?” Tomo said. “I just...” Shiori tried to smile and nod, but I could see the hurt on her face.

  “Shiori,” I said, reaching my hand out. “It’s fine. You can stay with us.”

  She waved it away and shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay.” Her voice was way too cheerful. There was no way it was okay. “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.

  Living in Japan meant reading between the lines, in this case even more than when Yuki wanted time with Tanaka. No one ever said what they meant. I wasn’t sure how mad Shiori was, but she definitely wasn’t happy.

  Tomo reached for my shoulders, wrapping his arms around them from behind, but I sidestepped his embrace.

  “That was totally rude, Tomo.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know. It was too much. I’ll make it up to her. But I just want to be with you right now. I need to be with you.” He leaned in, and this kiss wasn’t fragile at all. His lips pressed against mine sent my heart racing and heat prickling up my arms. He pulled back, his eyes gleaming. “You loo
k cute in that yukata.”

  I felt my cheeks go hot. “It’s Yuki’s.”

  “I didn’t want to come here with Shiori, Katie. She showed up at my house the same time my dad came back from Kyoto. He pretty much ordered me to take her.”

  “Please, like you wouldn’t have taken her anyway.” He would’ve, too. He was that kind of friend. But I was glad he wanted to explain. Things were the same between us, and Shiori hadn’t replaced me. “It’s not like you looked bored catching goldfish,” I joked.

  He grinned, the happiness on his face so rare that I was flooded with the desire to always make him smile like that. “No one grows out of festivals.”

  “So you’re childish, is what you’re saying.”

  “Oi,” he protested, but his eyes lit up with amusement. “Come on.” He squeezed 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. I hoped the Yakuza had given up if they’d stopped calling Tomo. I hoped things could be normal for us someday.

  We rounded another corner, where a cast-iron bridge loomed over the Abe River. There wasn’t much in the way of a river—even in the darkness I could see the large banks of gravel with pockets of water where it had once run deeply. The early moonlight gleamed off the pools like a trail of pale white lanterns. Tomohiro pushed his way through the crowds near the metal stairs down to the rocky beach and grabbed a spot against the railing.

  “Well?”

  “Beautiful,” I breathed, looking out at the kaleidoscope of lights glinting around us. Lanterns in a rainbow of colors hung from the railings and rooftops, and the opposite shore gleamed with matching strands of lights. On the gravel banks, groups of kids lit small fireworks that sparked and fizzed with golden hues. The humidity of the air and the close-pressing crowds weren’t so bad here by the freshness of the river—police had been stationed along the street to make sure things stayed orderly, though I doubted it would be a problem. And the sky was wrapped in clouds, waiting for the fireworks to light the darkness above us.

  “Too muddy on the beach, but you’ll get a great view up here. Do you want a drink?”

  “I’m okay.” I could just drink in the feeling of being there with him.

  “You sure? There’s a vending machine over there. Iced coffee? Milk tea? Melon soda?” With each suggestion 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 cooler.

  I looked out at the lights across the river as I listened to the quiet lapping of water, nearly drowned out by the crowds. Everyone was chatting and laughing, waiting for the fireworks to start. I hoped Yuki and Tanaka had managed to get a good spot, too, and Shiori—she’d made me feel awkward, but I hadn’t wished that on her. Watching the fireworks alone, feeling forgotten by the only friend she had. I know he hadn’t really meant it. It wasn’t even about her—it was about us. But that was selfish. 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 my head 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 against the railing. “Jun,” I whispered. The Kami had found us. I looked up for Tomo, but didn’t see him in the crowd. One of the policemen stood nearby. Maybe I should— But I couldn’t, right? They couldn’t know about the Kami. My mind reeled.

  “It’s okay,” Jun 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 the ink 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 group.”

  He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I didn’t mean for everything to happen like that. When you called me from the truck, I wasn’t sure what kind of showdown we’d have with the Yakuza. I just called a few friends in case we needed the help. I only wanted to be prepared, not to frighten you.”

  That gave me pause. I’d been so wrapped up in his weird Kami cult that I’d forgotten how he’d saved Tomo and me. That without his help, we might have been—

  One of the blond streaks in his hair fell forward and swung against his cheek. He lifted his good hand to tuck the highlight behind his ear. The motion brought back the memory of him lifting the cherry-blossom petal from my hair. And then the way he’d protected me from Ishikawa on the bridge to Sunpu Park. 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.”

  Oh.

  “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.”

  In the corner of my eye, I saw the policeman flinch. He’d heard Tomo, too, and had turned his attention to us. I had to get them to stop before things got worse.

  Jun dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m just here to watch the fireworks, Yuu. I can go somewhere else if you want.”

  Tomo took a step toward him, his eyes gleaming. “Yeah. You can go to hell.”

  The policeman straightened, his fingers pressed against his radio as he listened. Things were escalating, and I felt powerless to stop it. So much for controlling my link to the Kami. I couldn’t even handle two idiot guys tripped out on testosterone.

  “Tomo—” I warned, moving toward him.

  “No, it’s okay,” Jun said. “I’ll leave.”

  And then boom!

  I jumped a mile, terrified. Did Jun shoot him? Did the cop?

  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 close 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 abandoned Shiori 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 me
ant to have ink trapped inside me, to be connected 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 like a dark 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. The cop had forgotten us now, pressing his radio to his ear as he called for backup to get the area under control. 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 into the sharp gravel below. And then two sets of strong hands grabbed me, pulling me back.

  Tomo. And Jun. Saving me together.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tomohiro shouted. I nodded and he grabbed my wrist, pushing his way through the crowd. I turned to look at Jun, who stood silently watching me leave, the ink dripping down his cast, running down his skin in trails of black. When I looked back again he was gone, lost in the frantic swarm of people.

  I wound through the crowd, staying close to Tomo. “Was it you?” I shouted, but he didn’t answer. I couldn’t have heard him over the screams anyway. The inky rain splashed down as we ran for the train station, as we were soaked by the very truth of it.

  Nothing was normal, and I’d known it, deep down. It wasn’t something I could run from. The ink hadn’t forgotten me.

  My fate was raining down from the sky.

  Copyright © 2014 by Amanda Sun

  ISBN-13: 9781460382240

  Storm

  Copyright © 2015 by Amanda Sun

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