Two Halves Whole

by Melissa Abigail

  "Ree-yoou-kuun!"

  Haruna?

  Ryu felt the movement return, a twitch of his fingers and toes. She had wanted him to wake up. He had wanted to wake up and see her. He opened his eyes—but by then something had silenced her, something or someone. And the next thing Ryu saw were those brown snakeskins, those stupid, ugly, ridiculous shoes. Ryu strained upwards, his head lifted just enough to see the face of the man in those shoes. He'd never met this man before with his black hair slicked back, but the pale face was familiar. Those wild, unfeeling eyes. He knew them.

  Takehiko Kyojo.

  "It's him," Takehiko said, his voice guttural, grating, "Akuma's son."

  He said it in English.

  Maybe he said it so Ryu, the young half-Japanese boy, could understand without question.

  Takehiko grinned as he raised his arm, holding the gun steady. Ryu stared down its barrel. He wondered if it was real. He wondered what it being pointed at him meant, and what might happen if Takehiko pulled the trigger. But suddenly a man stormed in and shoved Takehiko to the side, near knocking him over. A man with wavy hair—a perm—his eyes hidden behind oversized shades. Katsuo Kazama.

  “Baka! Not the kids!”

  The voice was roaring. Takehiko swore angrily, but maintained his slick composure. He tucked the weapon under his belt, hidden by the inner folds of his jacket.

  "You've always been soft, Kitsune. It's hard to believe it's Akuma lying there instead of you."

  Katsuo grimaced, but he didn't reply. He continued to stare down at Ryu, his thoughts impossible to know with eyes disguised.

  "This one is Mitsukai's kid, right?"

  Another voice of another someone. Ryu heard them from afar. Several men were in conversation:

  “How is she?”

  “Out cold.”

  “She’s not dead, is she?”

  “No. I knocked her out. She came running and screaming.”

  “Ah! How annoying.”

  Katsuo turned his head to them. “Leave the girl, but we can take the boy,” he ordered, his deep voice booming.

  Ryu couldn't move, though he wanted to. He could only stare back at those dark shades of this man with the perm, the red suit jacket and red leather shoes.

  Take me? Take me where?

  Haruna had been avoiding it for roughly three minutes, but it was the sound of the driver’s sniffling and throat-clearing that drew her eyes to the rear-view mirror of the taxi cab.

  She shifted and looked out the side, relieved that in the split-second she had looked up that he hadn’t made eye contact with her. Haruna knew she might have been overreacting, but she couldn’t help it. Situations like this made her nervous. Even more so now.

  “Excuse me,” the driver muttered having coughed for the second time. “Must be coming down with something. That time of year.”

  Haruna gave a simple “hmph.”

  She checked her phone for the time.

  “Bringing a present? For family?” the driver continued, referring to the gift bag beside her in the backseat and insisting on conversation.

  “Kind of,” Haruna mumbled.

  “Must be tough. Having to be at such a place on Christmas of all days.”

  Tough?

  Haruna fingers gripped around her phone and the handle of her handbag. It had been five days, and she couldn’t shake the sight of an all-out massacre. That was tough. Before her eyes, a boy had been beaten until his face swelled, and a man had been shot, acting as a human shield without a moment’s thought. At the time of the incident, Haruna’s breathing had become faint. She was certain she was going to die. Without warning, an enormous task-force had descended onto the property, suited-up and helmeted. Bright lights, men and women that shouted furiously, and weapons drawn—chaos was everywhere. Meanwhile, the acrid smoke, the smell of toxic fumes and a house going up in flames, stung in her nostrils. Haruna couldn’t mistake the sound of a gunshot. She’d heard the sound all night. Horror-stricken, she went on to witness the man everyone kept referring to as “boss” refuse capture, then turn a gun on himself. He’d done it using the gun he’d asked Ryu to use on Tyler…

  Haruna shuddered. Meeting the guy with shaved, bleached-white hair had sent her on a rollercoaster ride of terror. And even so, there were still so many questions, so much left unanswered.

  “This is it, right? You know which entrance you want to go in from?”

  Haruna looked up, coming out of her thoughts and noticing they had finally arrived.

  “This one right here is fine.”

  Haruna rustled through her handbag, searching for her wallet. She leaned in to pass her fare to the driver as he pulled into the drop-off, and that’s when it happened again: his eyes boring back at her in the rear-view mirror. He was giving her the same kind of look he’d given her when she’d first entered the cab.

  “You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?” he asked.

  Haruna threw open the door and managed a weak smile. “You’re probably mistaking me for someone else.” She didn't wait for change as she climbed out from the backseat. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Merry Christmas!”

  She dashed through the drop-off and on to the hospital entrance, its automatic doors sliding back to allow her entry. She hated being so rude, but chances were the driver did recognize her, especially since her face had been plastered all over the news. She’d been reported missing by her grandmother. Usually, it would take more than a few hours of a teen disappearing before things would become this serious, but as the head of Irving-Smith LLP Marie had managed to pull some strings. Haruna wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. On one hand, the report might have saved her life, their lives. That didn’t stop the idea of it from giving her the creeps. It was still hard to wrap her mind around the idea of being “missing” or “kidnapped.” In one night, she’d been used as a pawn and threatened by Tyler. She’d been taken against her will to the house of the puppet master.

  Haruna’s heeled boots tapping against linoleum floors added an eerie feeling to everything. Between her ears, she could hear her heart pound with every advancing step. And everything was white, so bright white.

  Room 189.

  Haruna exhaled deeply and braced herself. She turned the knob and entered.

  Ryu lay upright on the hospital bed, head in a notebook. Haruna gently closed the door, but she hadn’t been quiet enough. He looked up.

  Haruna forced a smile. “You’re awake…”

  Ryu gave a small grin. As Haruna neared, he tucked the notebook under his pillow.

  “Yeah,” Ryu said, his voice hoarse. He folded his arms over his middle, both his arms and blanket masking the bandages along his torso, but not the gash on his left hand, their cuts and scrapes, the scratches on his face, the bruise under his eye, or the spots where tubes had been hooked up to his veins.

  Haruna had come by every day since the day they’d been rushed to the hospital. She was only in for a couple of hours after a pretty awful asthma attack. Ryu was a different case altogether. He’d been struck from behind with a stray bullet while protecting her—and he didn’t even know it, not until Tyler had pointed it out. But she had seen it first, the hole in his jacket, the bleeding in his side, seeping through the clothing under it. Ryu had been lucky, extremely lucky that the bullet hadn’t entered his abdominal cavity and hit any of his vital organs. If that had happened…

  Haruna lowered her eyes to the floor.

  Five days ago, Haruna could have sworn Ryu would close those eyes and never reopen them. She could have sworn her shortness of breath would have taken her along with him. The paramedics had come onto the scene just in time, so instead of the worst case scenario, the both of them survived. Post-op, Ryu was held for observation due to the concussion he might have had following the hit his head took from passing out. Doctors said his loss of consciousness had been from the shock of seeing his own blood rather than blood loss. It was also fortunat
e he hadn’t lost too much blood, doctors said. Finding a perfect match for a transfusion would have been a whole other problem. Haruna had wondered if that was somehow supposed to make her feel better. Haruna held back tears every time she came by. This time was no different.

  Haruna sunk into the chair beside him.

  Ryu's face was unreadable, but she found herself staring back at him, searching for a sign of sadness. Grief. Anything. The orphanage was no more. His life would be changed forever. Still, she saw none of this. He hid it well. She placed her purse and bag onto the floor between her feet.

  It was that time again. Time to smile and play pretend.

  “Como está?” Haruna said.

  “I still speak English, ya know.”

  “I couldn’t help it. It means ‘how are you.’ I installed an app on my phone…we can learn together…”

  “Your Japanese was always weird. I bet your Brazilian isn’t much better either.”

  “It’s not ‘Brazilian.’ It’s Portuguese.”

  “Brazilian. Portuguese. To-may-toe, to-ma-toe. ”

  Haruna scowled. He knew better. He was just trying to be difficult. And who says it like “to-ma-toe” anyway? No one. She crossed her arms.

  “How would you know how well I speak Japanese? Have you even heard me speak it before?”

  “Have I ever?” He stroked his chin. “By the way, you enunciate the ‘r’ too much on my name. It’s not ree–you. Can’t blame you. Mr. Lee doesn’t say it right, either.”

  She dropped her arms. “You’re kidding?”

  He gave a small shrug, then turned his head, a faraway look in his eyes. He’d done that yesterday too, and Haruna couldn’t understand it. Ryu seemed to remember something from their distant past, though he refused to actually discuss anything, even the incident from a few nights ago. It was almost as if he didn’t want to believe it happened. But yet, he would do things like this; reveal small, obscure details, a little at a time and without explanation. So she held back from telling her side of the story; that during the shoot-out when she’d nearly lost her breath, she’d been somewhere else, in her mind reliving the moment she’d witnessed their parents’ murder.

  Ryu sighed and plopped his head back against the pillow, the notebook peeking out from under it. It seemed every time she came by, he was writing, but he’d play it off as though it were nothing. What was he writing in that book anyway?

  “Hey, Haruna…”

  Haruna’s eyes flitted away from the book under the pillow to his face. “Hm?”

  “How long do you think they’ll put me away for?”

  Her heart sank. A full week hadn’t even passed, and he’d already brought it up.

  “You’re under eighteen. You won’t get anything serious, right? Besides it’s not your fault. You were made to do this stuff like… like a child soldier.” She had looked all that up too. Nonetheless, it wasn’t like she was certain of anything. How could she be? What precedents were there?

  "You should be my lawyer," Ryu joked. Then he looked tiredly up at the ceiling. "Hmm. Too bad I wasn’t forced to do everything. There's the whole thing with the Mazda. The house. And I might have held someone up at gunpoint…"

  Haruna blanched. "You what?"

  Ryu returned her wide stare, blinking innocently. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She decided she’d rather not know.

  "Whatever it is, plead ‘Not Guilty.’ ” Haruna shook her head.”Guess I'm the Bonnie to your Clyde."

  "Ugh, no. My brother's Clyde.” Ryu crossed his arms, arching a single eyebrow. "You know. I told you already that I was someone you should stay away from. I meant it. It's not too late to run. After all, you really could do better than me."

  "I think we agreed already? I wasn't going to try to please others. I'm choosing this for myself."

  Haruna noticed his gaze soften, maybe even look a bit inquisitive. Haruna glimpsed the notebook for a third time and offered a coy smirk. Her gaze shifted back, and she looked him in the eye. She leaned in. His eyes rounded, looking confused. Then curious. Then eager. He puckered his lips.

  Haruna swiped the book from beneath him.

  “Argh!”

  “Ohmygosh! I’m so sorry!”

  Ryu had shifted his weight in an attempt to block her. He was still healing. Still in pain. Haruna froze and regarded him guiltily.

  “That’s some dirty trick you got there,” Ryu groaned, wincing, shutting his eyes. “Stealing from a sick guy?”

  “I was just wondering what this was…”

  Ryu glared. “Stuff.” His eyes were fixed on her, as though daring her to open it. She grinned, not hiding the wickedness behind it and not breaking eye contact as she flipped to the first page. She stole a glance. A month and year at the top. She looked up.

  "You write a diary?"

  "It's a journal," he insisted.

  "Oh my gosh, I would never have guessed you were into writing."

  "I’m not very good, but yeah, English is actually my best subject. Mr. Lee was… the first to see my scars—by accident, anyway. He encouraged me to write a journal when I first started at the Academy. You know, when self-harm doesn't quite cut it?" He paused for effect, but maybe he’d noticed the way she frowned at him for he quickly added, "It's a pun."

  "Gross. I see where Seth gets that terrible sense of humour from. That’s why you're friends."

  "My brother, Albert, actually. He ruined me first and it was nowhere but down from there."

  Haruna looked to the ceiling, about to respond, but like lightning striking, Ryu’s arm came at her, snatching the book clean from her grasp. She watched open-mouthed as Ryu stuffed it behind himself on the other side, further out of reach.

  “How—I thought you were hurt!” she cried, gaping at him. Even post-op, he was oddly agile. Was he even human?

  He chuckled, a kind of hearty, very genuine kind of laugh. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him laugh like this before. He stopped and stared at her. He laughed again.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you—what’s with the second set of eyes?”

  Haruna sulked, unthinkingly raising a hand to the frame of her glasses to adjust it. “I told you I wore contacts, remember?” She narrowed her eyes, noticing the way he continued to stare though he’d stop laughing. His look only grew more evil.

  “I was just thinking… I think I dig the nerd look on you.”

  “Okay, I’m taking them off—”

  He held a hand out to stop her. “I’m joking. You're cute.”

  Haruna felt her heart skip a beat. She noticed his cheeks tinge just a little and felt her own face heat up. “Really?”

  His smirk broadened. “Yeah. Maybe you’re even cuter now with those on.”

  “Wow. Take it easy, you two.”

  Haruna bolted upright. Damon and Angelique entered the room. They quietly shut the door, mischievous glints in their eyes as they exchanged knowing grins.

  “We clearly got here at the wrong time,” Angelique mused, handing Ryu a tiny envelope, his get-well card, as Damon dunked a fresh bouquet of flowers into a vase, replacing the old ones. The pair had come to visit two days ago, as soon as they had heard the news of what had happened. Haruna smiled, but inside she was annoyed. She wished they hadn't walked in. She wanted to be alone with him just a bit longer. Haruna averted her gaze from them, towards Ryu. Damon cracked a joke, and Ryu responded with one of his own. On his face was a wide, totally unaffected grin. Haruna felt her insides melt. He was amazing when he laughed. He really was a whole new person with that kind of a smile. It still bothered her, still made her ache inside wondering if he truly was happy now that he was free. She told herself to just live in the moment instead of dwelling on this kind of stuff.

  Ryu turned from Damon and Angelique, turned and met her eyes. He stopped laughing, and his grin scaled back to a close-lipped smile. That look in his eyes. Dai
joubu. Everything will be okay, they said.

  Haruna felt a tiny curve at her lips. Would things really be okay?

  Ryu read the worry in her expression, fully aware of the ache in her heart. He saw it. He felt it. He redirected his attention to the others, pressed down by the weight of eyes on him. Damon was eased back against the wall, his arms folded. Angelique blinked curiously back at him with her hands together. It was a strange expression she had. The kind of look everyone had been giving him lately. People felt sorry for him, but they also feared him a little, like if they just made the wrong move or said the wrong thing he'd strike like a cobra. Ryu supposed he shouldn't blame them.

  It's not every day that you meet a teenage yakuza-in-training. Well, former.

  Ryu's eyes shifted back to Damon.

  "Stop fighting, stop wanting,” Ryu said, sighing. "I finally understand it."

  Damon looked puzzled at first, then he chuckled. “Oh you get it? I’ve been trying to figure it out myself."

  Ryu jerked his head. “Huh? But you said it!"

  "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure I was on something.”

  "For real?" Ryu scowled, also noting from the corner of his eyes the way Angelique was shaking her head.

  Damon pushed off from the wall, snickering and directing a wry stare both to Ryu and his girlfriend. "Of course not. I need to get into med school, remember?"

  Angelique rested her face in her palm. Ryu frowned. Damon was up to his tricks again. And he was good. Too good.

  “You have to be careful with Damon. He’s a human Cheshire Cat,” Haruna said, stretching her arms into a yawn.

  “More like the Mad Hatter…” Ryu grumbled.

  "Hey, you have one too?" Damon said suddenly stepping towards Haruna. Ryu looked between them, wondering what he was talking about. She looked down at the glint of red and gold at her neck. Ryu took special notice of the cashmere sweater she was wearing, off-shoulder and low-cut.