Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  She must mean the PoleControl building. It’s the only building here really.

  Amber streetlight glints off the top of car hoods. Tail lights blink into life as early leavers pull out and cruise away. From front of the sidewalk, I glimpse Mai hunched over in the seat of her car, staring at her phone with a frown. She looks up at my approach. “Hey, hey.” She stands up. “My phone is doing weird stuff tonight. Hate this damn thing.”

  “You’ve had that dinosaur since I was eight. Why don’t you get rid of it and get a better phone, Sensei?”

  “Jun, I keep this phone because it’s old,” Mai says. “I’ve had this since before they started putting those tracking chips in everyone’s phone. I’m not getting rid of it come hell or high water.” She slips it into her purse, and rests her hand on the top of her window. “Anyways, what did you want to see me about?”

  “That ceremony,” I say. “Why didn’t you pick a successor? Everyone is—”

  “Jun. I don’t give two shits about what everyone is thinking right now. You know me,” Mai says. “Besides, don’t you think something is a little weird with so many assassins leaving all of a sudden?”

  I say nothing. Not long ago I said the same thing to Mimi. I should’ve known that Mai would’ve thought the same

  She plants a hand on my shoulder. “I talked it over with Shogun Tatsuo already and he’s willing to let me stay as leader for thirty days while he rounds up some other assassins to investigate. If nothing comes of it, then I name my successor, but…” Mai drums her fingers on the car frame. “For all we know, picking a successor might be just what some crooked bastard wants. I’m not going to stand by and sip margaritas in retirement while something shady is going down, Jun. And I hope you don’t either.” She sits down in the driver seat with her fingers in the door grip. “But I need to hurry up and get out of here. I made a reservation that I need to check into. But you be safe, alright?”

  “I will,” I say. “I promise.”

  “You’d better.” Mai closes her door and rolls down her window. “ I don’t care what Showguns rules say, don’t you ever turn your back on another assassin.”

  Why the hell is the freeway so crowded?

  The queue to get on the freeway is backed up so far that people can't even turn. Frustrated, I switch lanes and drive around. I’ll just take the streets home. It’ll take me all the way around to Ise, but at least the traffic should be clear.

  My headlights light empty asphalt. Trees rise up like a great wall on either side of me. Yellow deer crossing signs lean out from the bushes. That’s the other thing I don’t like about coming down this way: it’s so uneventful. I reach down to turn on the radio.

  A dark mass jumps from the left, darting in front of my car.

  Adrenaline crackles in my veins like wild sparks from a frayed wire. Holy shit! Both my hands fly to the wheel. I swerve away.

  The road blurs. Rows of tree trunks hurtle into my vision. But it's too late to stop.

  Crrrassssshhh!

  Hot pain spears through my body. Then it fizzles out. An awful ringing reverberates in my ears. My eyes snap open.

  The cracked windshield meets my gaze. And the dashboard is closer than I remember.

  My vision pours back like fixed camera shots. Darkness. Swerve. Blur. Tree. Crash.

  Pounding surges into my skull. I give my body a quick assessment. No bleeding or broken skin. Nothing hurting on the inside. Soreness follows my every movement. But at least, I can move everything. I’m banged up, but I can function.

  Wind streams through a gap in my battered door, stirring my mind out of its stupor.

  With a push of my arm, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door. My legs wobble. I put a hand on the back of my seat to keep myself steady.

  Cold steals into my kimono. I fold my arms over my chest, walking around to check the damage. The whole front is smashed in. Dented hood is open and can’t close. One headlight busted. Front bumper is hanging off. Whole windshield is cracked and needs to be replaced.

  Roiling discomfort coils in my stomach. It doesn’t look fixable. Great. Just fucking great. What the hell was that thing that hit me anyway? Jumping out on the road like it has a fucking death wish! It wasn’t a deer. I glance around. How did it disappear that fast after being hit by a car? Not that it matters anyway. That thing sure won’t pay for my damn car.

  I should call Regi and a tow truck. Wincing, I reach for my purse in the passenger seat. My arm aches in protest, but I ignore it and grab my issued phone first. When it doesn’t turn on, I grimace. Fine time for a phone to not be charged. I grab my regular phone instead and turn it on.

  No signal bar out here. And my battery is low too. I’ll have enough time to call Regi, but not enough to look up towing service. Maybe if I move from here I can find a signal? But the more important question is: where am I? I dial Regi’s number, peering down the road.

  I recognize the green sign: Welcome to Ise Shrine. My eyes narrow. Oh the irony. Back here again. Perfect end to a perfect fucking day. At least I know exactly where I am. I open my glove compartment for my pocket knife, shove my purse under the seat, and head into the forest.

  A bar from my battery disappears, leaving me with only one in red.

  My heart lurches. C’mon. Hold out for a little more. I pick up my pace. It’s not until I reach the torii bridge that I’m finally rewarded with two bars of signal, but the second is flickering. I dial Regi’s number.

  The phone rings twice.

  The first thing that comes out his mouth was, "Babe? It's so late…”

  At the sound of his voice, I slump against the bridge railing. "Baby, I know. But this is an emergency."

  His sleepiness leaves. "What happened?"

  “My car got wrecked. And I'm in the middle of nowhere right now."

  "Shit. Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

  A shiver passes up my spine. I cross my legs and hug myself. "I'm not bleeding, and nothing feels broken. I'm in some pain, but it's fine."

  "Do you have any idea what street you were on? Any landmarks?"

  "I'm in front of the sign where it says 'Welcome to Ise Shrine’.”

  “Jun it’s midnight. What are you doing there?”

  I ran my empty hand through my hair, gripping the strands. “Baby, I don’t have time to explain right now, my phone is going to die. We can talk later. Can you come get me? Please?"

  Regi sighs. "Okay. But we're going back to my house. Yours is too far. I should be there in like twenty minutes, so don't move. Alright?"

  "I won't…" When Regi doesn't fill in the pause, I add, "I love you."

  Regi doesn't respond right away. "Love you too, Jun. I'll see you when I get there."

  I tuck my phone into my obi and take out my switchblade. Briefly, I look down the bridge. Of all the places to end up, why here? I suppose here is better than the middle of nowhere. At least I know it.

  Moonlight specks the undergrowth. Air whooshes in the branches. A lone airplane thunders overhead. My soles snap a twig by mistake, and the sound seems to reverberate all over the world.

  I cringe and give a self-conscious glance over my shoulder. Way to be discreet. Can anyone hear me out here? Those guys that were here the first time don’t seem to be around. My Akuma genes start to kick in. Rustling leaves answer me.

  Gaze narrowing, I clasp the knife, pressing the button to free the blade. I keep still behind a tree trunk, keeping watch.

  Leaves crunch again. Then quiet. A deep garbling noise follows. Then quiet again.

  Ice prickles up my neck. It's getting closer. But closer from where? It sounds like it’s coming from everywhere at once.

  A dot of red sways in the shadows ahead of me.

  Rustle.

  An animal? But all the way red? And it’s foggy-looking with no hard edges like steam.

  Rustle.

  A shaft of moonlight illuminates a smoky red snake head.

  My mouth runs dry. What the hell
?

  The head rears up and lunges.

  I bolt, only to trip at the tight fabric around my legs. Fuck! This kimono is a leg prison!

  The snake's head phases through the tree like a ghost.

  Cursing, I run the knife through my obi, tearing the fabric. C'mon!

  With a whoosh the snake slithers back, and rears again.

  My knife severs the obi. I roll away, jump to my feet, and whirl to face it.

  The snake lands where I'd been. It hisses and lunges.

  Blood roars in my ears. I duck, plunging my blade up into its throat.

  Instead of connecting, the blade sails through the snake’s body.

  Oh shit. I back away.

  The snake lashes at me, embedding its fangs in my kimono. It rams its head into my back, shoving me into a tree.

  Pain plunges through my front, seizing up my windpipe. Can't breathe. It's going to kill me!

  Light flashes through the forest. A shriek pierces my eardrum. The snake's head retreats from my back. My legs crumble under me. I can’t move.

  Another shriek catches my attention.

  The snake recoils from a woman draped in a white hoodie and denim. She points a long lightning bolt-like blade in at the snake who retreats back into the shadows.

  The woman tucks her weapon away to a slot on her back, pulls her hood over her head, and walks back toward me. She kneels beside me. Much of her face is hidden by dark brown hair, mouth concealed by a cloth. Golden hand shimmering with bioluminescence. She traces a tan finger over a bruise on my arm. Warm light pulses from her fingers, erasing the ache.

  Magic? “Who—”

  The woman presses a warm palm to my forehead.

  My thoughts liquify. Drowsiness lulls my eyelids shut.

  2-2 'Ah'

  Everything spins into focus. Dark blue curtains. Stucco walls. The window and the shreds of gray sunlight lengthening over the blue, gray, and white comforter over my legs.

  I blink the sleep from my eyes. Stirring a limb experimentally, I wince. It’s like trying to move disconnected pieces of a rusted machine. Difficult, achy joints. Foggy brain warming up. Limited range of motion. Legs like gym weights. It takes a full minute to realize I can actually see a ceiling. This isn’t my room. When did I get here? I sit up—well, I try to, but there’s an arm over my waist. I turn my head to look over my shoulder.

  Regi’s green eyes blink sleepily at me. “Morning.”

  I face him. “How long were you awake like that?”

  He yawns. “Not long. When you started moving around.” His arm moves up, thumb stroking my cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “Everything hurts. I can barely move.”

  Regi’s lips graze my forehead. “Then don’t. Stay in bed.”

  My gaze follows the contours of his lips. “If I’m going to do that, I should call in sick at work.”

  Regi’s eyebrows draw in close. “But I thought you already called Tammy so they wouldn’t schedule you?”

  My lips pull into a frown. “What? Since when?”

  “Since yesterday. You sat right next to me and called Tammy…” After a few heartbeats of looking at me, he frowns too. “Do you remember me coming to get you? Taking your stuff out the car? Calling the tow truck? Or coming back here?” Regi asks. “You talked to Mom and Dad… Do you remember meeting them?”

  I pause like an actress caught on stage unprepared. I don't remember any of that. “No.”

  “Well, what do you remember?”

  I stare up at the ceiling. “I remember the car wreck, calling you…” The snake creature flashes in my mind. “And I remember a woman.”

  Regi stops stroking my cheek. “A woman?”

  “Yeah, there was a woman there with me,” I say. “In a hoodie.”

  He scratches his head. “Huh… I didn’t see anyone with you.”

  "No one?" I ask. “Maybe she left?”

  Regi merely shrugs and shifts closer so our noses touch. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

  “I’ll be fine I’m just sore.”

  Regi cups my face, but he doesn’t look the least bit convinced. He rests his forehead against mine. “Well, if you feel funny in any way, let me know.” With a light squeeze of my thigh, he pecks my lips.

  I can barely stop my thoughts long enough to be present in the kiss. Just forget about it for now. Focus on getting better. “What about our date tonight?”

  His fingers interwine with mine. “Only if you’re feeling up to it later." He traces a blue-gray bruise on my knuckles with his thumb, then sits up. “Make yourself comfortable. And take it easy.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “Going to have to drop off the triplets at school. I’ll be back in a bit.” He touches the back of his neck, gaze trailing away. “Mom and Dad will stick around though. Since you said you didn’t remember meeting them, maybe you might want to meet them again? They’re friendly. A little weird, but you'll love them.”

  “Maybe when I’m not so—”

  “Oh of course! Just a thought, haha.” His face darkens a shade, getting up. “By the way, you’re more than welcome to borrow some of my clothes, and use my stuff to shower. I know you don’t have yours.”

  I sit up, and only then do I realize that I’m not wearing the kimono I had at the party. I have on a hoodie. White silken fleece hoodie. Curious, I pull at the outside. It has a single red dot on the front. No writing. I press the inside of the hood against my nose and inhale. Thick vanilla notes lightened by lavender.

  I let go of the soft fleece. “Regi? Is this yours?”

  Regi yanks a shirt out off a closet hanger, and looks over his shoulder. His eyebrows crinkle. “Huh? No. You had that on when I picked you up.”

  At this my whole body goes still. But I don’t buy white hoodies. I don’t buy vanilla lavender perfume either. Who does it belong to then?

  Megumi’s maybe? Wait, no… Megumi doesn’t buy vanilla perfume. Not to mention, I can’t fit Megumi’s tiny clothes. Can’t be Tammy’s either. I don’t think Tammy believes in hoodies or any kind of casual wear. Mai’s? No. Mai doesn’t like hoods on her head. Maybe I borrowed it from someone in Fedora Clan? But then again… I’m not much of a big borrower. And if I did, I wouldn’t have held on to it this long unless it was Regi’s.

  Out of prospects, I pull the fabric to my nose again as if the scent holds the answer. A woman, for sure. I don’t know what made me think it was Regi’s at first. A woman with a white hoodie.

  The woman in the forest who saved me from the snake?

  But Regi said there was no one else. A ghost? And I remember being on the floor, not walking around ei—

  “Babe?”

  Regi’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “Kinda random but…Are you right-handed or left-handed?”

  I look at him. “Regi, we’ve been together for how long and you’re asking me that? Of course, I’m right-handed.”

  At this, Regi gets really quiet. “Well, I figured I should ask because yesterday you were writing something down with your left hand. I thought maybe I had it wrong.”

  “Do you remember where I put what I wrote?” I ask. “Or what it was?”

  “I don’t know…your purse? Or your pocket? It was one of those.”

  I grab my purse from Regi’s desk and fish around. My phone, faded receipts, old smeared grocery lists, sticky notes with debris clogged on their adhesive strips. Nothing. I check the inside pocket of the hoodie. Ah ha, found it…My hand contacts paper too. I pull out both.

  A blue note folded into a neatly-creased square. Mai Fujiwara is scrawled in black on the front of it.

  Mai Fujiwara? My Mai? I peel the note open with my thumb.

  As I write this now, I’m afraid things are not as well as I hoped. Even now I’m afraid this note may not even get to you. I suspect all of our electric communications are being monitored and controlled by CRISIS-D as we speak. If you do get this no
te somehow, please don’t come looking for me. If we are caught together, it would be a disaster. I hope that capture would never happen for you, but if it does, you know your duty. And if you do, I know mine.

  Cold tremors through my skin. Is Mai in trouble? Who wrote this? I flip the paper, looking for a name, but I don’t find one. It’s definitely is my handwriting, but I’d never write anything like this. Especially not to Mai. I grab my phone and dial my mentor’s number.

  The dial tone never comes.

  My thumb presses so hard against the paper note in my hand that thin creases crack the neat stationery. It can’t be true, can it? This note? This CRISIS-D? How could anyone just tamper with Mai’s phone? Showguns would notice first.

  I backtrack to my contacts screen, then glance at the note. It’s heavier now, as if knowledge has weight. Even though this isn’t meant for me, responsibility still puts its pounds on my shoulders. Am I responsible now? If you have the secret to save someone, then are you obligated to use it?

  My gaze wanders to the window and the pale-washed light inching in. Times like this make me wonder if its better to be ignorant of everything and take the steps we’re all told. Easier yes. But better?

  With pursed lips, I suck in a breath. If Mai died because I did nothing, can I live with that? Every muscle in me tenses. No. I scroll through my contacts. Then stop. An icy curdling stirs my stomach. Shit. I called on my regular phone. I probably shouldn’t have done that. It’s too late. This probably has something to do with why Mai’s phone was so choppy last night. I hope she’s okay. But I might be okay. I think this block is only on Mai’s phone. I call my issued phone just to be sure. And thankfully it goes through, just fine. Mai’s phone is probably the tapped one because it’s so old. I know Shig used to complain all the time about newer phones being a bigger pain to tap since phone carriers started up security to red flag on suspected tapping, but even if someone did tap my phone I think I can get that checked out at headquarters. I guess the phone is the least of my problems at this point.

  The bigger problem that has no answer is what happened that night in the shrine. The only plausible— and I use the term plausible very loosely— explanation I can think of is that somehow there’s another me running around and maybe she slipped me this note, hoping that I can get it to Mai somehow. But that still doesn’t explain how this doppelgänger got me home without Regi seeing two of me. Akuma genes can do a lot of things, but cloning magic tricks isn’t one.