“That’s like a thousand years for the brokenhearted,” Sebastian said. “Ken’s been staying here since you left.”
The bathroom door opened, releasing steam and a shirtless Ken, towel-drying his soft, dark hair. The scar over his heart was purplish. No blush to be found.
She said his name.
Ken turned still as stone at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he draped the towel over his shoulders and crossed his arms.
Hijiri fidgeted. “I was looking for you.”
Ken’s answer was little more than a sigh. “Oh.”
This wasn’t how she had imagined seeing him again after her trip home. Sure, she had expected his sadness, even anger, but not this quiet, moping version of the charm-boy she knew. “I used the charm you made me,” she ventured. “The hearth charm bell.”
Ken shifted his weight. He studied the radio sitting on Sebastian’s coffee table.
“It worked,” Hijiri blurted. “My parents took me out to dinner Thursday night, just like they promised. I can’t remember the last time they kept their promise. I know it was thanks to you. The charm called them back to me.”
Ken’s mouth twitched. After seeing so many of his smiles, she couldn’t pretend that this one came anywhere close.
Fallon grabbed Sebastian’s arm and led him into the kitchen, giving Ken and Hijiri more space. Sebastian looked like he wanted to get in the middle of it, but Fallon’s grip was unyielding.
“Please go back to your apartment,” Ken said.
“We need to talk. I saw Love while I was in Lejeune and this amazing—”
“Please,” he said, holding up his hand. “Just go.”
Hijiri swallowed thickly. “You’re mad. I get it.”
Ken let out a dry laugh.
His laugh wasn’t right. It was broken, wrong-sounding. Hijiri’s pulse quickened. “Is your heart okay?” she asked softly. “Did I break it?”
Ken pressed his fingers against the scar and shook his head.
“Let me see,” she said, stepping toward him. Several love charms came to mind. “I bet I can fix it.”
“You’ve done enough, thank you,” he said harshly.
Hijiri flinched. “But you love me.”
Ken turned away.
“You do,” she said, her voice rising. His feelings for her had always been a constant. He bluntly told everyone he could about his love for her. He said it without words: through his unwavering belief in her, his touch, his tender smiles. He wouldn’t deny it now, would he? “I dare you to say otherwise. Tell me when you first fell in love with me. Was it on your first day of school? When you popped out of the giant present?”
Ken looked over his shoulder, about to say something, when his hands flew to his throat and he hunched over, coughing.
Hijiri lunged forward and grabbed his shoulders, holding him upright as he coughed into his hands. Her mind raced. Love’s charm is stopping him from saying … what?
Ken sucked in a few deep breaths and leaned on his knees.
Hijiri bent down in front of him. Her eyes searched his face. “Did you love me … before you hid in that box?” Before you ever met me?
He pushed away from her.
Hijiri waited another minute, but Ken stubbornly refused to open his mouth. She wished she had thought of complaining to Love about his charmed throat. Get that obstacle out of the way. But perhaps that was something she had to get rid of herself.
She clenched her jaw and said, with the absolute certainly of a love charm-maker, “If you won’t tell me now, then maybe you will later. When I give you a better way of sharing the story.”
* * *
The florist had called that night to tell her that the hibiscus petals came in. Hijiri ended up making enough Heart’s Ease tea to last for about a week—now that an entire hospital wing was occupied with Stoffel’s victims. She warned Dr. Vermeulen that she couldn’t keep up with the demand. He told her that Detective Archambault was still trying to squeeze a confession out of Gage, but the old man claimed innocence.
No chance of a real cure anytime soon.
That weekend, Hijiri holed up in her hermitage of an apartment, determined to finish her missed-connections love charm. When she worked hard, and her focus was at its best, she forgot everything else. No breakfast. No lunch. Her stomach growled and her laundry piled up, but Hijiri barely noticed. Her card catalog’s open drawers looked like loose teeth, sticking out for hours before she remembered to close them.
Hijiri realized what was missing from the basic construction of her missed connections charm: heartstrings. Zita had used the townspeople’s heart’s threads to control them, but thanks to Love, Hijiri now knew that the heart had many strings—connected to destiny, perhaps, but also to other people.
Her run-in with Love made her even more sure that heartstrings were the key to her love charm. It makes me believe that our hearts can be tangled and tied to each other, no matter how far away we are or how much time passes between, Hijiri thought, bent over her table. Our hearts remember more than our brains do. Even missed connections from many years ago can be found again, she thought, because that moment imprinted itself on the heart where it stays, long after the brain forgets.
She drew up new blueprints. Changed her materials. Then put her plans into action and crafted. Hijiri wiped the sweat from her face and finally took a break to eat hours later. When Fallon knocked on her door, she didn’t even bother fixing the weak bun barely holding her hair back.
“I see you’re putting your own heartbreak to good use,” Fallon said mildly. “When was the last time you took a shower?”
“Not heartbroken,” Hijiri insisted. “Just bruised. But if this charm works, I might finally solve Ken. Everything will be okay.”
Fallon tucked her hair behind her ears and lifted her chin. “I’m here to make sure you get to our charm theory club meeting today.”
“It’s not Wednesday.”
“This is a special meeting. We really need you to be there.”
“Can we stop somewhere first? I need to see Ms. Ward. Urgently.”
“As long as you wash up,” Fallon said. “And change out of those pajamas.”
* * *
Hijiri made herself presentable with a quick shower and a change of clothes. I hope this works, she thought, wrapping her finished missed-connections charm in newspaper so that the glass bottle wouldn’t break on her way to Ms. Ward’s apartment. She put the bottle in her messenger bag and nearly ran out the door.
“Slow down,” Fallon called.
“I thought you said we have a meeting to go to,” Hijiri said, looking over her shoulder. “I’m hurrying.”
She and Fallon arrived at Ms. Ward’s apartment, out of breath and sweaty.
“What a pleasure to see you two,” Ms. Ward said. Her brows furrowed. “Is there some kind of emergency?”
“I need your help,” Hijiri said, her heart still pounding from the brisk walk.
Ms. Ward flushed and welcomed them inside.
Hijiri moved a stack of hardcovers off the couch so she could sit while Ms. Ward brewed tea. Her stomach whined when the bitter scent reached her nose.
“If I understand you correctly,” she said, carrying the tea tray into the living room, “you’ve crafted a missed-connections charm.”
“That’s right.” Hijiri snatched her teacup and drank, burning her tongue.
Fallon blew on her cup of tea. “She’s going to use it for the competition.”
“I need to know if it’s going to work. Would you like to try it?” Hijiri asked.
Ms. Ward’s face flushed with pleasure. “I’d love to.”
Hijiri wasted no time in grabbing the charm from her bag: a green glass bottle with a red string tied around the neck. “This is it.”
“What does it do?”
Hijiri drew in a breath. She’d been practicing how to explain it clearly. “No matter how short an encounter is with someone, our hearts can remember forever. The memory
is like a thread, connecting one heart to the other, and most of the time, we never realize the hearts we touch and those that touch ours.
“This charm taps into that connection. It’s the same principle as using paper cups and string to communicate with a friend. You leave a message, the bottle carries it by following the string, and your missed connection receives the message. He or she can respond back the same way.”
Ms. Ward gasped. Her hands shook as she held tight to the bottle. “Am I dreaming?”
“I hope not. I don’t know if it really works yet or not. Would you do me the honor of trying to contact one of your missed connections?”
The librarian didn’t hesitate. “How?”
“You’re going to send your memory of him,” Hijiri said. “Hold the bottle to your heart and remember. The charm will absorb the memory. You can also ‘think’ a message to go along with the memory if you want. Either way, I’ve included instructions for the receiver. I’ll get that while you remember.”
Ms. Ward grabbed Hijiri’s elbow. “But I don’t even know his name.”
She grinned. “You don’t need to know where this person is, or his name, or if he’s balding or has three kids by now. All that matters is that you remember him as he was then.”
“Okay,” Ms. Ward breathed more than said. She looked nervous. After a moment, she pressed the bottle to her heart and closed her eyes. The bottle began to glow.
Hijiri plunged her hands into her bag and felt around for the rolled-up instructions. If the charm worked, she’d need to print the instructions rather than handwrite them. Her handwriting was pretty neat, but not if she had to write hundreds of instructions at a time. She looked up in time to see golden sparkles fill the bottle and melt away.
“I think I did it,” Ms. Ward said, looking down. “The bottle feels heavier.”
Hijiri popped the instructions into the bottle and corked it. “Last step. You have to throw it.”
“Miss Kitamura,” she said, astonished, “this isn’t a plastic bottle. It’ll smash against the floor.”
“It won’t touch the floor.”
Ms. Ward frowned.
“Go on. You have to be the one to do it. It’s like throwing a bottle into the sea.”
Ms. Ward stood up, squeezed her eyes shut, and threw the bottle as hard as she could. The bottle sparked and disappeared in a puff of smoke before it could collide with the wall.
“There. It’s sent,” Hijiri said, sighing.
“What happens now?”
“We wait for a response. I don’t know how long it’ll be before he sends the bottle back with his message. It could take minutes or days.”
Ms. Ward wrung her hands, a blush to her cheeks.
“Do you mind if I ask who you sent my charm to?” Hijiri said when the silence grew between them. It wasn’t a question she’d normally think of asking, but it felt right. This wasn’t just about the charm working. This was Ms. Ward’s past love. No matter how fleeting.
“He was a street performer,” Ms. Ward said, “playing the violin so fiercely I wanted to dance right there on the sidewalk. I remember the pitch of his whistle when he saw me coming, the zipper on his leather jacket gleaming in the light of the shop he stood in front of. Even though our eyes met, and it looked like he wanted to play for me, I had no change. I ran into the shop and got stuck waiting in line for the cashier. By the time I had my change, the violinist was gone.”
Hijiri could picture the missed connection perfectly in her head. The heart’s memory must be even better. “Maybe you’ll find out what happened now.”
Ms. Ward burst into a grin. “Maybe I will. Thank you.”
Chapter 19
SPOKEN AND UNSPOKEN
Fallon told Hijiri that they would be meeting at an outdoor café notorious for its noise level—the perfect place to hatch a plan without being heard. Also, with so many tables clustered together along the sidewalk, the twins would have to behave themselves.
The café spanned half a block, the open kitchen providing hungry patrons a view of their dishes being cooked. Femke, Mirthe, Ken, Nico, and Sebastian had already pushed together two tables.
Ken sat next to Sebastian, picking at the remains of a grilled ham and caramelized endive sandwich. His dark eyes were twin lakes at midnight, unfathomably deep and sad. If she looked too long, she’d drown in those eyes. Lucky for her, Ken had been avoiding her gaze.
Hijiri unbuttoned the top of her coat’s collar to let in some air. She suddenly felt too warm in her layers. “My competition charm is just about finished,” she announced when she got there.
“That’s great,” Sebastian said. “Can we see it?”
“Ms. Ward’s testing it for me,” Hijiri said. “We’ll all have to wait and see if it works first.”
“Have a seat,” Mirthe said.
Ken lifted his backpack off the ground and put it on the empty chair next to him. He went right back to his sandwich, his shoulders hunched.
Hijiri felt his rejection like a slap. She inhaled sharply and tried not to let the hurt show on her face. The only empty seat left was between the twins. She sat down. Having grown used to him sitting beside her, she felt disoriented without him. Like she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Femke passed her a laminated menu.
Nico looked at his watch and checked the street. No sign of Martin yet.
Fallon cleared her throat. “I think we should catch Hijiri up on the plan.”
“Last Wednesday’s meeting was a success,” Mirthe said, “because I came up with a way to stop Stoffel.”
“Why are you taking the credit?” Femke muttered.
“Because the plan was mine first.”
Femke plunged her hands into her pockets. Bits of fog curled out.
“That’s enough,” Fallon snapped. “No charms. Put. Them. Away.”
Femke slumped back in her chair, but the fog stopped.
“I think we’d better continue,” Sebastian muttered to Fallon.
Fallon nodded gravely and stood up, commanding the attention of the group. Even though the police had spread news and warnings about Stoffel all over town, including on Bram’s radio show, that hadn’t stopped couples from going out on Friday nights.
“Date nights,” Sebastian clarified. “Apparently, Stoffel attacks the most people on weekends.”
“The police can’t figure out Stoffel’s behavior patterns beyond that. They’re running out of time. If Stoffel isn’t caught, Detective Archambault is going to have the competition canceled.”
“She can’t,” Hijiri said, gritting her teeth.
“I know. That’s the last thing any of us want to happen,” Fallon said, “but pretending that everything’s fine while a dangerous charm roams the town is not right either.”
They couldn’t let this happen. If the competition got canceled, the rivalry it had bred between the new love charm-makers would only continue. The entire town could become a battleground instead of just Verbeke Square’s stage. Someone wants to be crowned the best in town, Hijiri thought grimly. Better it happens with the police watching and rules in place.
“Detective Archambault arranged for a stakeout next Friday.”
Nico checked his watch again. His brow creased.
“Grimbaud has a curfew now. We’re all supposed to be inside with our doors locked starting at six in the evening. Only the police are allowed to be out.” Sebastian smirked. “We’re ignoring those rules, of course.”
Hijiri rested her elbows on the table and told them about meeting Love in Lejeune and how her lovesickness had been cured. “Love said that Stoffel needed to be destroyed for the lovesickness charm to stop.”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Mirthe said.
In groups of two, the ex-rebels would pick spots around town to wait for Stoffel. Mirthe was already working on weather charms to use against the robot and asked the other club members to carry helpful charms with them for the night.
“If we’re sep
arated, how will we know if someone sees Stoffel?” Hijiri asked.
“My father has communication charms as a backup in case the radios on our boats ever broke,” Nico said. “He won’t miss them for one night.”
“Bram and Ms. Ward have agreed to help us,” Femke said. “I don’t think either of them could pass up another adventure. Fallon said she’d find a way to ask Anais and Bear to join us too. We could use Bear’s strength for catching Stoffel.”
Fallon laughed. “Believe me, they’ll say yes. Anais is always up for some mischief.”
As intimidating as the robot was, Hijiri had no doubt that Bear could throw him to the ground with his judo training. Of course, Bear needed to be where Stoffel was. And avoid getting locked in a hug. Hijiri hoped that they could stop Stoffel with charms, but she had to be open to different solutions if they were going to pull this off.
“What about the police?” Hijiri asked.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll see us, no matter how careful we are,” Femke said, unconcerned. “We’ll have to dodge them as best we can.”
“Until one of us finds Stoffel.”
“That’s right.” Femke frowned. “It’s hard to trust the police after everything that happened with Zita. We can’t leave this problem up to them.”
Hijiri nodded. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”
“Then let’s pick the groups and locations,” Fallon said.
Sebastian’s hand shot up. “I choose the princess.”
Fallon huffed and wrote their names, her lips curling into a smile. “Okay. Next?”
“Martin’s still not here yet,” Nico said, his worry showing, “but I’m sure he’d want us in a group together.”
Fallon scribbled their names down. She also put down Anais and Bear as a group, as well as Ms. Ward and Bram. “Who else?”
Mirthe stared at Femke.
Femke stared at Mirthe.
Neither budged.
Hijiri was about to raise her hand when Ken beat her to it.
“Pair me and Femke together,” he said.
Hijiri gripped her menu painfully. Her heart flinched like a shot bird and fell somewhere by her feet.
“Fine,” Mirthe said sharply. “Hijiri goes with me. The best group. We have the moped.”
Love Charms and Other Catastrophes Page 20