“Can I help you?” Haruna asked, standoffish, and perfectly fine with that.
“Father asked me to give this to you,” he muttered.
He handed her a slip of paper. Oh right. The schedule Father Blake and Sister Anne had set for them. She had forgotten to take hers on the way out.
Haruna mumbled a “thanks,” slid it into her coat pocket and refaced the door.
“So… you guys dating now?”
Haruna paused. She turned back to face him. “What are you talking about? I’m not dating anyone.”
Mani scoffed. “Really? I thought you broke up with me so you could go out with him.”
Oh. So they were having this conversation. Great.
“I broke up with you because you are an insensitive, immature, self-centred human being.”
“I am?” Mani sneered. “And what about you? All you ever do is talk about ‘you.' You're always ranting and complaining about your problems, but when had you ever asked about mine, hm?”
“Mani—“
“And yet, you couldn’t stop talking and thinking about that societal reject?”
Haruna felt her face drop. Why were they talking about this? Mani must have been real proud with what he’d said, for he folded his arms, smug-faced and cheek-dimpled.
“It’s okay to be honest and admit how you really feel. Just one bit of advice. I might seem cocky to you, but that guy is a million times worse."
"And just how is he worse?" Haruna asked, not sure why she was even entertaining Mani’s nonsense.
"He isn't a Christian. He'll only try to use you. Isn't it obvious?"
"You're the last person who should talk about Christianity. You used to say we should 'feel sorry for him,' but you were always so full of it. You never meant a word. Those horrible things you said about him—"
Mani let out a loud guffaw. "And what makes you any different? You used to agree with me, no?" He shook his head. "Look, no need to defend your new boyfriend to me, Haruna. But don't say I didn't warn you. You’re going to regret choosing a guy like him. Big time. ”
“I didn’t choose anything—shut up! What do you know?” Haruna pivoted and stormed out of the church. Even now, even though they’d broken up, Mani couldn’t stop being such a merciless troll! How could he speak so confidently, as though he knew what was going on? He knew nothing! And most definitely, she had not chosen anyone! Not yet, anyway.
If they're going to talk, maybe we should make things interesting?
Haruna scowled. She did not want people to talk, and she was fine with things not being interesting. She didn’t need chaos and drama in her life. Especially not during her final year at the Academy.
Getting home that day seemed to take forever. Haruna gave up walking and called a cab. Once she’d arrived at the house and was inside, she thought about heading straight for her bedroom; that was, until she heard her name called from the sitting room. She backtracked to see Marie perched there, a slim wine glass nested between her fingers. Haruna stared at the glass. She forced a smile.
“Yes, Grandmother?”
“How was the meeting?” Marie asked, sounding casual.
“Good. Quite good."
Marie didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Haruna wondered if it was okay to leave. Marie took a short sip of her wine before speaking again.
“Emmanuel,” she drawled. “You two don’t seem to be on good terms.”
Haruna frowned. Were they that obvious? Ha! Of course they were.
“We… broke up.”
Haruna waited for the surprise to cross Marie’s face. She waited to see a look of disappointment. Marie had always said she loved the two of them together, even though she didn’t love the idea of Haruna having a boyfriend at seventeen. But though Haruna expected those reactions, they didn’t come.
“I see…” Marie muttered. She looked ponderous as she stared into the glass, swirling it gently. She regarded Haruna with a stern gaze and set the glass onto the table. “By any chance, Catherine, might it have anything to do with that orphanage boy you’d brought here?”
“Ryu and I… we’re just friends."
Marie’s face crumpled as though she’d bit into a lime. She rose to her feet, stiff.
“Friends?” Marie advanced towards her.
“I …” Haruna didn’t know what to say next but the silent, growing rage in her grandmother’s tone, posture, and eyes all frightened her.
“What did I tell you? Not to have any contact—any interaction—with that boy…”
That boy. Marie spat the words as if talking about something filthy. For Haruna, a switch was flipped. She suddenly recalled Mani’s words, just like Marie’s words now, all of which felt like attacks—attacks that felt personal. What? Was she dumb? Couldn’t she decide for herself what Ryu was? “That boy” was far from perfect. But perfect or not he was still a human being.
“There’s nothing wrong with him!” Haruna cried, her tone defiant, her voice a screech, “And if I want to talk to him, then I will!”
SMACK!
Haruna brought a hand to her cheek. She gaped at Marie’s raised palm behind a blur of tears.
“You live in this house, you follow my rules, understand? I gave you an order—stay away from that boy!” She narrowed her eyes. “As for that party, you can forget about it. You’re grounded.”
It was dark.
Real dark.
Most days he would have already been in bed, asleep. But not this day. This day was different. He’d been allowed to go outside and play and eat candy until his belly ached. And people had visited—which was rare. And his best friend had been there too. His only friend.
"Ree-yoou-kuun!"
The voice called out again. What did this person want? And what was it about this voice that reeked so strongly of desperation?
"Ryu-kun! Ryu-kun, please wake-up!"
Ryu’s fingers and toes twitched. This person wanted him to wake up. Ryu wanted to wake up and see them. His eyes opened, at last—but by then it’s quiet. Something had silenced this mysterious person. Something. Someone? Ryu blinked. Levelling with his face were those brown snakeskins, those exotic, weird-looking shoes. He'd never seen anything like them. He strained to lift his head just enough to see the face of the person who wore those shoes. The face was a blur, but the person's voice spoke with a Japanese accent: "It's him."
Ryu wondered: if I am "him,” who am I?
Then he woke from his nap just as the bell went.
Eyes squinted against the light, he let out a deep yawn. Great. That ridiculous dream again—for what? The fifth time, now? He sighed. Halfway through the week, another school day endured.
Ryu shoved everything from the top of the desk to the inside of his bag. He froze, staring into it, eyes trained on the small handgun tucked away inside. Yep. He’d started bringing it to school with him unbeknownst to Katsuo, or anyone else for that matter. Stupid decision? Probably. But he figured he couldn’t be too safe travelling about the city after Dan’s little disappearing act.
Not that Ryu was ‘scared’ or anything like that.
“I’m not feeling so well… you go on without me.”
“Are you sure, Haruna?”
Ryu twisted his head to see Haruna in conversation with Angelique. Gabrielle was on her way out along with everyone else.
“I think I’ll just go home,” Haruna replied, her voice difficult to hear.
Angelique nodded, passing a concerned gaze over her friend before giving in and deciding to leave. After a few more minutes, all had left but the two of them. Ryu lifted himself to his feet. Haruna’s head dropped to the desk. She didn’t move. If she was going home, why was she still lingering around? It wasn’t like her to skip whatever after-school meetings she had. It was less like her to dismiss her friends. Was she really unwell? It was anyone’s guess. The two of them hadn’t spoken to each other in days.
Ryu moved towa
rds her, and only when he met the front of her desk did she lift her head. She froze. He froze. Seeing her head-on, the regret hit him hard. Her eyes, half-moons forged from glass. Her cheeks, rose red. Damp. Flushed. What a bad move he’d made. He could have walked away. He should have. But it was already too late, and now he had no choice but to face her. Ryu spun the chair from the desk in front of hers and plunged into it.
“Head Girl Haruna? Crying?” He whispered, tilting is head so his gaze levelled with hers.
Taken by surprise, Haruna looked away, swiping at her face with her sleeves.
“I didn’t know anyone was still here,” she mumbled.
“Actually, I was just going…” Ryu stopped himself as she looked back again. Amazing. Even when she cried, even when she was embarrassed, those eyes set his insides ablaze. He smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I know you have a reputation to preserve.”
She gave a soft sigh.
“You are lucky, you know. I saw you sleeping in class earlier. You practically get away with murder around here. It must be nice.”
Get away with…
Ryu arched his brows. “Nice?”
“What I mean is—everyone expects me to be perfect. I guess it's my fault too, because all I've ever wanted was to be perfect. But here I am, always trying to do what's right, but still it’s never enough.” She sniffed. “Sometimes I wish I could give up, go some place far away and leave everything behind.”
"What’s all this? You love doing things by the book."
“Do I?” She placed her elbows on the desk and rested her chin in her hands. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Weird. You go your whole life thinking one way, but it feels like everyday your beliefs are challenged. You don't know what to think anymore. Or who you are. You wonder if the world’s flipped or just you. It’s like stepping through the looking glass.”
She tilted her head and, likely noticing Ryu’s confusion, she added, “I was obsessed with Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland when I was, like, ten."
"You named your birds based on metaphors?" Ryu remembered clearly the tiny tufts of yellow and green feathers she’d referred to as Harriet and Alice.
Haruna gave a small nod.
"It's been said that people are a lot like caged birds at times. You want to escape—you want to—badly. But you worry that when you do, you won't know what to do next.” Her gaze became unfocused, and Ryu was mesmerized by the thoughtfulness in her expression. "My parakeets have spent their entire life in a cage. Even if you open it, most of the time they won't leave. I think it's because sometimes the cage feels safer than what they don't know."
Ryu frowned. So things weren’t as they seemed. What she had said and the way she said it reminded Ryu of Clyde, his brother and housemate. He and Haruna were similar in some ways. Both of them bore responsibilities greater than themselves, but deep down both wanted out. One difference? Clyde gave up. Gave up his old life with a single mother who remarried so Clyde could have a father and a future. Clyde gave up that life for the White Flower Syndicate; trading one lie for another. For Clyde, the cage was boredom. What did “leaving it all” mean for Haruna?
Ryu’s ears piqued at the sound of her laughter.
“Wow. Here I am just saying all this crazy stuff… and just weeks ago we couldn’t even be in a room together without arguing.”
“You never wanted anything to do with me,” Ryu said.
“That’s not true. I’m the one who tried talking to you in the seventh grade, and you called me ugly for literally no reason.”
Ryu took pause. She remembered? Even though it was so long ago?
“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said.
“So you think I’m ugly,” Haruna said, downbeat.
“I thought you were being fake, but you’re not ugly.” Oh, if she only knew, he thought. Far from it.
“So you thought I was ugly on the inside…” Haruna lowered her gaze. Ryu wondered what he’d do if she were to start crying again. “You know when you said it back then, I almost believed you. Apparently I’m self-centred and a bad friend. Except, when I try to be a good person because I want people to like me, it makes me fake somehow. Guess you were right. I’m hideous.”
Ryu didn’t know how to answer her.
Back then, she was the popular girl in their class, always trying to be someone and something to everyone. Being self-conscious caused her to miss the obvious things, didn’t it? Ryu couldn't deny that his nearly twelve-year-old self had been put-off after she’d said hello and butchered his name just like everyone else. He felt a little guilty for the rude things he’d said… until he’d seen what he thought were her true colours. People trash-talked him. She avoided him like chickenpox. It made no difference that the both of them were half-Japanese. They were opposites. But wasn't it petty to dwell on this? It was in the past. Here she was, showing him of all people her tears.
"You're not a bad friend. I can tell you think about others a lot—" Ryu paused, and took a deep breath. “Listen, I was just a stupid kid. I wasn’t used to anyone talking to me first or… wanting to get to know me. I said dumb things. Even now, I…”
A lump formed in Ryu’s throat as the words began to sink in. His heart skipped several beats at the sight of her smile. A rare, glowing smile. It was something wonderful, like staring into paradise. He thought back to the first day he'd seen it, seen her, years ago in the assembly hall. It was the first day of school. He’d been almost scared to look at her, but the minute he'd caught her eye, caught her looking in his direction, he had forgotten to blink. In this moment, just like before, her whole face was alive, bright and shining like the sun. As she always did when she was nervous, she tucked the bangs that grazed her cheek behind her ear. That’s when his own smile left him, and he noticed the bruise.
“This Saturday, Tracy is having a birthday party. You should come,” she said suddenly.
“Wah?”
“It starts at seven.”
Ryu pressed back against the chair. “I don’t think… I mean, it’s not my scene so…”
“I know it's short notice, but I have something I want to give you.” She drew back her chair. “So be there, okay?”
Before Ryu could think or say anything, she snatched her books and fluttered out the classroom. Ryu jumped, desk creaking as he started after her; but, after several steps, he held back. He hovered at the doorway, gazing out as she and her shadow disappeared down the hall.
She had something to give him? A gift? It didn’t seem obvious why.
Something for school? No, also not likely.
His skin flushed.
Hold on, this was a party. And the way she had said it—something. What was something?
A kiss? More?
Haruna was inviting him, either as a guest or her date, but he wasn’t quite sure which. He suddenly craved a drink, his imagination whirling out-of-control, but his senses throttling him, reeling him back. He furrowed his brows. This was insane. He couldn’t go. He definitely, absolutely couldn't go.
Ryu returned to his desk to retrieve his bag, then headed out.
All he did was talk to her, and now this was happening.
What was he doing? What had he done?
He was letting his guard down and allowing himself to fall deeper and deeper in…into a hot, steaming pile of dung! Ryu didn’t want, couldn’t have a girlfriend. But with every day, she was making him want to change his mind. No, he didn't want a girlfriend, but he knew one thing. He wanted her.
CHAPTER four
what wonderland looks like
All you have to do is make the call. You know precisely what to say. It’s what you must do.
So do it.
Marie’s eyes were glued to the phone on her desk. It beckoned her. She found herself twiddling her thumbs for minutes upon minutes before finally giving in. She raked through a tiny pile until she found what she was looking for: the small slip of paper where
she had jotted the ten-digit number. Fingers quivering, she dialled. Marie could feel her heart writhe in her chest with every hum of the call. She heard a click and a female voice answer:
“Matsumoto Industries.”
Marie went into lawyer mode.
“Hello. My name is Marie Smith from Irving-Smith LLP. I’m calling on behalf of several clients we’re representing that have a claim against Mr. Matsumoto over some properties in dispute. I was wondering if I may speak with Mr. Matsumoto directly.”
“Sorry, Mr. Matsumoto is unavailable at the moment. We can have his lawyers call you back at a later date. What did you say your name was?”
Exactly the kind of response Marie expected.
“I’m afraid that simply won’t do. You see, we’ve noticed Mr. Matsumoto is in gross violation of several bylaws. It really is an urgent matter. Charges can be pressed—criminally. However, I’m sure if we are able speak to him directly we might be able to work out an out-of-court settlement.”
There was a brief pause before the woman responded.
“Mr. Matsumoto does not speak to lawyers.”
Marie let out a deep, exaggerated sigh. “Very well. We will be left with little choice but to move the class-action suit forward. Good day to you, ma’am.”
“Hold on, I’m speaking with him right now.”
A smile crept along Marie’s face. So that was the line to do the trick, hm?
“He just told me that he will make an exception. He can meet with representatives from your firm this week.”
“Oh, good. Very good,” Marie said.
They set a time and location, and on that note, the call ended.
Success. Marie had managed to secure a meeting with Shin Matsumoto, and she had done it with a phony story about a phony lawsuit. She had thrown all her integrity out the window and risked the firm’s reputation. But it didn’t appear as though there would be any other way to reach him, and the threat of legal action might have been the only way she could resolve the last few pieces of the puzzle. The answers she believed—no—the answers she knew he had. Matsumoto knew exactly what took place on November 4, 1998. At last, after all these years, she was going to get to the bottom of everything.
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