Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  The world is angry, the thunder says to her. It does not forgive.

  Something terrible is coming. She can feel it.

  Far away, a towering obelisk on the black sea, the Tower of Dao, blinks its power light and commands the entire nation to change from Yin power to Yang.

  Then the silent god calms.

  Mai’s home office is everything one thinks an assassin’s office shouldn’t be. Beige coypu coat slung over the back of a swivel chair. Photos of Genji and the other members of the Silent Seven on the east wall. Employee of the month plaques on the west. Duke’s Best In Show Ribbon next to it. Stacks of paper everywhere. A frame of Mai holding Jun as an infant. So mundanely, outrageously normal. No guns, no secret missions, no lists of targets, none of clients. Calendar hanging above her laptop with Professional Development meeting scrawled on the twentieth of June and circled in yellow highlighter.

  The assassin in question sits eerily still, head down, hands clutching her brown hair, light brown eyes staring at the phone in her lap. I’m so fucking stupid! In the heat of the moment, when she was on her way to stop Jun from walking home, it had never occurred to her that her rushed text would be the thing that sentenced her friend to death. I should’ve called. Back feeling tight, Mai sits up, hand pressed to her mouth.

  But would that have made a difference? After all, she’d been lucky enough to catch Jun walking out of a liquor store. If she’d delayed any longer with a call, Jun could’ve been captured, and her whole mission would’ve been for nothing.

  Yet knowing that Hikari’s death could’ve—should’ve been avoided…

  All this brooding isn’t helping. Mai gazes at the uninviting stacks of manila folders on her desk. She doesn’t feel like doing any of it, but it’s due on Nami’s desk tomorrow morning. And leader of the Silent Seven or not, Mai doesn’t want to hear Miss Perfect’s snide comments about turning things in late.

  The aroma of blonde roast coffee wafts into the room, making Mai turn towards the door.

  Still in his school uniform, an eleven year old Genji stands in the doorway holding her robin blue mug with white polka dots steaming with fresh hot coffee. Next to him, their senior Alaskan Malamute Duke pokes his massive head inside, one eye milky with a cataract.

  “I brought you some coffee, Mom,” Genji says. “Also, Tamotsu is here. And this…” He holds out a perforated envelope.

  Mai takes it. It’s from Take Elementary School. “Ah, your report card?” She tears the perforated edges and scans through her report card. All perfect marks. All comments say Pleasure to have in class. She is not surprised; he is a Geisha-in-training after all. She turns in her chair and hands it back to him with a smile. “Not bad, kiddo. All perfect.”

  A hint of a smile breaks Genji’s features. He sets her mug on the desk. “Does this mean we get to go the bookstore on the weekend?”

  Mai’s insides squeeze a little at how hopeful he looks. A victory trip to the bookstore for good grades has always been the tradition in the Fujiwara household. But now that Hikari is gone, there’s still Jun to take care of. She exhales. “I don’t know. Duke’s eye surgery is on Saturday. And Tammy still hasn’t called me back. If she does, I have to drive Jun all the way to Aokai on Sunday.”

  Genji’s smile wavers at the mention of Jun; it always does these days. Mai has never seen the two interact beyond obligatory acknowledgement, and even that always seems to be a strain. “Okay.” He slinks into the hall, slow and listless, like a wounded animal.

  Duke watches him go, then turns to Mai with an inquiring look. Mai pats Duke’s shaggy head. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one who can’t see around here.”

  “I bet I can argue a case for that.”

  Mai glances up.

  Tamotsu leans in the doorway in a white shirt, a beige vest, and black pants. “How did everything go?”

  Mai reaches for her mug with a sigh, wishing that it was full of hard liquor instead. “Terrible.”

  He cants his head. “Terrible?”

  “Hikari is dead,” Mai says. “And it’s all my fault. She didn’t get my message in time.”

  “Hey…” He step around Duke to stand behind her chair and plants both of his on her shoulders for a reassuring squeeze. “You did what you could. That’s all we really can do.”

  Mai shakes her head. “But I feel awful. How do you even make up for it?”

  Tamotsu inhales, surveys the room quietly, then his gaze lands on the photo of Mai and Jun. “Protect her like you’re already doing and be there for her. All of this is probably pretty scary and confusing on her end. She needs you.”

  Mai’s gaze lowers to her coffee. “What’s she doing anyway? Did you see her when you walked in?”

  “Just laying on the couch,” Tamotsu says. “She didn’t look like she wanted to talk to anyone, so I just said hi and left her alone.”

  Duke turns his head, ears pricking toward the hall. Mai follows his gaze.

  Dark ginger ponytail swinging, Jun comes to stand in the doorway, a wary look in her gold eyes as it flits between Tamotsu and Mai.

  “What’s wrong?” Mai asks.

  Jun shakes her head. “Nothing. I…I want to join Showguns.”

  Mai studies Jun through narrowed light brown eyes and lowered eyebrows. Did she hear that correctly? “You want to join Showguns?”

  Jun looks away, lips pursing. She nods.

  Robin’s egg blue mug with white polka dots at her mouth unsipped, Mai asks, “And why do you want to be a part of Showguns?”

  Jun’s gaze snaps to Mai. She wrings her hands. “I want to be stronger like you.”

  The older woman’s gaze flicks to the ceiling as she draws a sip from the rim. You don’t want to be anything close to the failure I am. Creases valley between her eyebrows. “Stronger huh?” Mai crosses a leg over the other. “Jun do you have any idea what assassins do?”

  “Hurt people?” The younger girl says it so lightly, that Mai wonders what Jun’s idea of people getting hurt really is. Probably the comical nonsense in cartoons: a character getting blasted with TNT in one scene only to be up and walking in the next ready to take more abuse.

  “Yes, and why do you want to hurt people?” Tamotsu pipes up.

  Jun is quiet for a little bit. “I don’t want to hurt people. But other people want to hurt me.”

  Mai frowns. It’s not a bad reason, but Hikari would probably roll in her casket. And Tammy—gods be damned, the girl’s goose is cooked if her aunt ever found out she’s in the mafia. Not to mention teaching Jun to murder? What kind of godmother would she be if she did that? Mai’s lips grimace behind her mug. She exhales through her nose. “Absolutely not.”

  Jun flinches. “But—”

  “No. I mean it, Jun,” Mai says. “Showguns isn’t like those video games you play. It’s dangerous, and I don’t want to put you at risk.”

  Jun blinks and Mai doesn’t miss the water welling in the younger girl’s eyes. It seems like an eternity before Jun finally turns and leaves. Duke follows close behind, whining.

  Dull ache drums through Mai’s throat. She keeps her stoic face until Jun is out of earshot. It’s for the best. Mai sips her coffee again, only to realize the weight of Tamotsu’s hands aren’t on her shoulders anymore. She turns to find him with his arms folded. “What?”

  “I think you’re being a little too hasty about this, Mai.”

  “What do you mean? Tamotsu, don’t forget what Showguns is.”

  Tamotsu lowers his arms. “I haven’t, but don’t forget what Jun is either. You know how people are about Pua Moana.”

  Mai scowls. “That doesn’t justify teaching a girl how to be an assassin.”

  “No, but think about her future Mai. Who do you think is going to hire a Pua Moana? And I’ve seen school kids do pretty messed up stuff to Pua Moana kids,” Tamotsu says. “They don’t make many friends. At least in Showguns, Jun would be accepted and never have to worry about money.”

  “Her aunt is the foun
der of Thanks-A-Latte,” Mai says. “It wouldn’t be that bad.”

  Tamotsu scoffs. “She can’t live off of a barista’s wage in this country. Housing prices are going up again. Not that barista’s could afford one in the first place.”

  Under the desk, Mai’s empty hand closes into a fist. Why is he trying to make this hard? None of that junk justifies becoming an assassin. And besides, she made a promise to keep Jun safe. Turning her best friend’s daughter into a lawbreaker doesn’t exactly fit the bill. “What’s your point?”

  “All I’m saying is, Showguns gives her a chance at a stable life, Mai. And you know she can never have that on her own.” Tamotsu steps away from her chair. “And it’s not like it hurts her schooling. Assassins have to have at least a 3.5 GPA. And you can mentor her directly if you’re that concerned.”

  Mai’s gaze strays to her calendar. She closes her eyes. “Why do you want her in Showguns so badly?”

  “I can’t put my finger on what to call it, but there’s something in her eyes, Mai,” Tamotsu says. “She can handle it.”

  Mai says nothing. And how do you know?

  Tamotsu moves to the door, casting a last glance back at her. “I’m not gonna pretend like I’ve been with her longer than you have. You know Jun best. But sleep on it for a little bit, Mai.”

  And Mai does sleep on it. She sleeps on until her Professional Development meeting on June 20th.

  That fall, Jun Mei Akiyama is enrolled into Red Dragon Academy under Mai’s mentorship. By her sixteenth birthday, Jun is officially a Hound.

  And on Jun’s debut, her gun is falsely tagged.

  5-1 'Ah'

  The world jigsaws into place: warm satin sheets over my naked body, pillows that aren’t mine are under my head, the pile of my clothes on the floor half-blended in the darkness, the protective arm draped over my stomach, and the clock on the nightstand with red numbers so blurry and bright that they look like they’re bleeding. 4:23 am.

  Hound Vision adjusts my eyes to the dark unfamiliar room. What? How did— My memory finally catches up like a convoluted puzzle box turning into place. That’s right, I spent all night with Genji and then we came back here to—A hot-flushed shudder floods my body in memory of that. Genji Fujiwara is the last man I ever thought I’d be having sex with, even now with the evidence all around me, it still seems so surreal, something that only seems possible in some wild fantasy.

  But it felt so right to have him inside of me. Everything that bothered me, every concern, every responsibility that hung on me like a shackle just disappeared with all of his thrusts.

  Genji shifts closer to my back, his body heat warming me. I listen quietly to his soft breathing and the distant hum of the rain while keeping still as if not moving could keep the rest of the day from coming. My hearts sinks with a new heft. I move my hand over his, threading my fingers together. Back to reality.

  Much to my surprise, his bigger fingers clasp back. “And good morning to you, too.”

  I twist around to face him. His figure is a bright red and yellow in Hound Vision. “Did I wake you?”

  “Sort of.” He pulls his hand away to run his fingers through my hair. “But it’s not your fault. My Geisha genes would’ve made me get up even if you didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  Genji grunts. I feel the bed shift as Genji moves. There’s a click and the lamp comes on. Genji settles back down, keeping himself propped with an arm. “Do you really want to know?”

  “To keep targets in your sight?”

  “Close.” He folds his arms behind his head. “Most Geishas kill a target the morning after spending the night with them.”

  I pull myself against the pillows, and tug the blankets up over my breasts. “The morning after? Why not kill them when they fall asleep?”

  He yawns. “Targets might still have valuable information they’re willing to part with. But most tend to just get embarrassed for having a one-night stand with a stranger and have no further use. Some do try to escape under our nose.”

  I chuckle and put a hand on his chest. “I didn’t realize that having sex with targets was a thing.”

  Genji clicks his tongue. “It’s what we’re trained for. I assure you that there isn’t a single Geisha that came out of training a virgin.”

  “After last night, I believe you.”

  He grins at that and leans over. His nose nuzzles the rim of my ear. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Yes it is, Genji.” I straddle him, claiming his lips.

  “It must’ve been very good if you’re actually willing to call me by my actual name.” His hands roam down my back, bring me down lower with him until I can feel his heartbeat melding with mine. “I could get used to that.”

  All my nerves light with tingles from his touch like a lit candle. “Then I’d like to hear mine more often.” I lean in to kiss him again, then I remember with a jolt that I promised Heaven that I’d go with her to the reservation today. I pull away and sit up. Shit.

  Genji brushes his hair out of his face and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot Heaven is supposed to be picking me up from the house at 8,” I say. “I didn’t think I’d be all the way out here.”

  Genji glances at the nightstand clock. “It’s only 4:32. You have time. Getting back to your part of Aokai only takes an hour.”

  Then the latest I can leave is seven. Not that I want to leave that late. I need to change my clothes and shower. My phone. I remember it ringing during the night. I spot my phone on the nightstand and reach for it.

  Genji’s hand intercepts mine. “Wait a minute. Before you start running off, I want to know where we stand right now.”

  “Where do you want to stand? Don’t forget, I’ve still got my fiancé to deal with.”

  He cups my face with his other hand. “I haven’t, but we can’t take back last night. I just want to know what it means for you.”

  I pull my hand back with a sigh. “It’s hard to say, Genji. We didn’t plan for any of this. And I don’t know how I feel about my engagement. I don’t want to promise you something and end up not being able to keep it later.”

  He presses his forehead against mine. “I’m not going to make you choose anything.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “If listening to you complain about your fiancé has taught me anything, it’s that you don’t do well with being caged in any way.”

  I remain there searching his brown eyes. They’re supposed to be the soul’s window, yet even though I’m unmistakably looking at him, I only see myself reflected back at me. He hadn’t been joking when he said that Geisha are mirrors of their company. But after a night of hopefully meaningful lovemaking, reflections are the most frustrating thing to see. I want to see him. What he thinks. What he feels. If that heart of his really felt anything about it. Then what do you want from me, Genji Fujiwara?

  It doesn’t sound like he’s asking for a relationship, but I have the funny feeling he’s not asking for a casual hook up either. For a stray moment I wonder if there’s any trace of my former enemy in there. Though I’m glad he’s not trying to murder me, I still don’t understand why he was so willing to put our differences aside. Sure Mai’s safety is a part, but I have no more control over that than he does. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can always ask me something, Jun.”

  “I know this is kinda going away from everything, but why did you stay with me?”

  He cants his head. “Why?”

  “I always thought you never liked me much. You seem so different now.”

  Genji holds my gaze for quite some time, then he sighs. “My mother loves you more than you could ever know. It was an ugly truth I didn’t want to accept for a long time. I thought maybe it was something I was doing, or maybe something that you were doing to keep her attention. But when I understood how long your mother’s death had been eating at her, I could forgive her. Even now, it’s been ten years and she’s still trying to make things up to you for her mis
takes. She hasn’t forgiven herself.” He lifts a warm hand to caress my cheek. “All I can do is let her be. Because if I take you away from her too, she’ll never forgive herself.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder and linger there against him. His hand joins mine.

  “And besides…” Genji continues, his lips curving. “There are positive ways of getting rid of your enemies. I’m getting quite fond of them now.” He pats my leg. “Let me get up, Hound. I need my phone too.”

  I smile and get off of him. “Alright.”

  As I watch Genji swing his legs to the other side of the bed, Mai’s words from the party come back to me.“But don’t forget that not every fight needs a gun, and we certainly don’t need to take all lives to be victorious. Sometimes the best way to kill an enemy is to let them share their burdens with us and make them a friend.”

  I turn to the other side of the room and pick up my phone. Two missed calls from Regi. My chest squeezes. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to go back to Regi and get sucked into another argument about something else. I know it’s coming like a guillotine, and now I’ve practically given him something to be mad about.

  If he ever finds out. Our relationship feels like it’s on such a tight thread these days that even an ant’s weight could snap it. I feel obligated to make it work still. We’ve done so much. And Regi has been pushing for this marriage so hard. I pick up my clothes from the floor, saving my beige fedora for last. Maybe I’m not even meant for marriage. Mai and Tamotsu seem to be doing just fine. The sky hasn’t fallen down on Tammy. And my mother sure as hell isn’t an upstanding example.

  I put the fedora on my head and glance over my shoulder at Genji hunching with his phone. Guess there’s a lot about myself that I still don’t know.

  After a shower and getting dressed, Genji walks downstairs to Nirvana’s front with me. We pay for the room and walk out to the long stretch of boardwalk.