Shinigami Eyes

by Adam Smith

  Oh, goddammit.

  I bite my tongue, holding in the scream that I feel is coming. I probably misheard them. Simple case of mistaken identity, nothing more. I spin around and come face to face with a boy. A boy with familiar looking blond hair. Like the one I saw from the train. Like the one I saw push a girl in front of a moving train. I stumble back a step as he reaches a hand out to me.

  “Rin,” he says, lowering the hand. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He speaks with a thick accent that suggests he originally came from somewhere in England.

  “I’m...I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

  “No, I know who you are. Rin.” He shakes his head, holding up a thick comic book of some kind. “I know why you’re here. I need to talk to you.”

  “Get away from her!” Haruka shouts, grabbing my arm and dragging me away from him.

  “Rin, you have to listen to me.”

  “Just go away,” Haruka spits. “She doesn’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

  “Leave her alone,” a small voice growls, seething with rage.

  I glance back and see him with that book of his held out as Haruka and Miki try to usher me away. Behind him is Misa, standing stock-still, glaring at him. All I can manage is a small shake of my head.

  “Sorry, but I don’t know you. You must be mistaken,” I say, hoping that Misa doesn’t feel the urge to protect me again. Especially not with all these people around.

  I give the boy one final glance over my shoulder. He’s still standing there looking at me with a hurt look on his face, his strange book clutched tight in his hands like it’s some kind of sacred treasure. Behind him Misa maintains her stance of watchful anger until she deems us far enough removed then, like nothing happened, she shifts back to her usual six-year-old playfulness and comes skipping after us, whistling a tune that my mother used to sing.

  “Who was that?” I squeak once Haruka eases up her grip on my arm.

  “Ah, just someone from school. Don’t worry about him.”

  “Yeah, don’t worry,” Miki echoes.

  “How many people have you told about me?”

  She gives me a pained look, not saying anything.

  “How many people already know what I did?” I stop walking, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice. “Miki knows. That boy says he knows. So I ask you, who else knows? Does everyone already know about me?”

  A look like I’d just belted her across the face flashes through her dark eyes before she shakes her head and drops her gaze to the ground, rambling words too fast for me to decipher.

  “Slow down.” I feel my cheeks burn. I feel like a total idiot for having to say it, but I have no choice. “I don’t understand you.”

  “Gomennasai,” she hisses in a rushed breath before flinching and making sure to space out her words enough for me to follow. “I was just so excited to have my cousin coming to stay with me that I didn’t realise what I was saying. I am sorry for saying something that was meant to be a secret. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. But I’m sure Miki-chan didn’t tell anyone.”

  “No, no,” Miki chirps in. “I didn’t say anything.”

  I force myself to remain calm, my insides still swimming with an uneasy feeling. “Then how does he know who I am? Explain that.”

  “He doesn’t.” Miki shakes her head. “That guy always likes to act like he knows more than he really does. He’s a bit weird.”

  “Don’t worry about him. I promise he doesn’t know anything.” Haruka gives me a small, shaky smile. “He probably just heard your name because his father works at Father’s company. I swear no one knows about you.”

  I nod. I don’t like the idea that people are talking about me, but at least that’s better than everyone knowing what happened. They’d all think I’m crazy. Probably not as crazy as if they knew what really happened, for what little that’s worth.

  “Did he try warning you yet?” Miki says in a conspiratorial whisper.

  “What?”

  “Miki!” Haruka hisses.

  “I’m just asking.” She shakes her head. “I want to know if he tried freaking her out yet. He has this whole ‘prophet of doom’ thing he does.”

  “Huh? Prophet of doom?”

  “He likes to run up to people and predict terrible accidents that are about to befall them,” Miki adds ominously.

  “Is that true?” My gaze lingered on Miki’s face, but my question is directed at Haruka.

  “Sorewakankeinai.” A blur of words almost too fast for me to translate it to ‘it’s not important’. She shakes her head before taking a deep breath and speaking in a slower, clearer voice, “He’s just some crazed Otaku who can’t tell what’s real and what’s fantasy. It’s better if you just stay away from him and his delusions.”

  “If you don’t think these accidents are real then explain Watanabe-san tripping down the stairs last week!” Miki throws out her hand like an impassioned lawyer making a decisive point.

  Haruka gives her a hard look before returning her attention to me. “It doesn’t matter. We’d better get home. Grandfather wants to speak with you before dinner.”

  A cold shiver moves up my spine at the thought. I haven’t seen the old man in over ten years, so whatever he has to say to me is not going to be good. It’s just a feeling I have. Definitely not something I look forward to.

  The entire ride home I sit quietly thinking while Haruka and Miki chatter away beside me in quick, undecipherable bursts of Japanese. One stop before ours, Miki uttered a rushed goodbye before darting through the closing doors. The whole way back Misa sat there studying me, not saying a word. I appreciate the silence—what with me being the only one able to hear her—but I would have liked not to have her constantly staring at me as well.

  I follow Haruka from the station—not even trying to make conversation—through the quiet streets and past all the small houses squashed beside each other with bushes and flowers of yellows and pinks in their equally small yards.

  The closer I get the more I dread having to face this extended family I’ve been lumped with. Haruka stops in front of a slightly bigger house and I feel my heartbeat quicken. I follow her as she pushes open the big front door and removes her shoes, placing them in the small cupboard by the door.

  “Tadaima,” Haruka calls into the house, making her way down the hall.

  “Okaeri, Haruka-chan.” A grey-haired woman pokes her head out of one of the rooms, a warm smile spread across her face. Her gaze falls on me and her expression sours like I’m some mangy mutt that wandered in off the street.

  “Baa-chan, I have picked up Rin-chan just as Ojii-san asked,” Haruka adds in a soft voice.

  Grandmother nods, moving her gaze back to Haruka. “He is waiting to see her.”

  “Hai, I’ll take her straight there.”

  Grandmother nods and disappears back into the room without saying another word.

  I look at Haruka to see if she thought that welcome was strange. Maybe it’s just a custom here—how the hell would I know? Haruka doesn’t show any emotion so I shrug off the feeling that I’m not exactly wanted.

  “Follow me, I’ll take you to Grandfather’s room.” Haruka continues down the hall.

  I nod, even though Haruka’s got her back to me and follow.

  The wooden floorboards beneath my feet creak with each step, and I keep my gaze dropped to the ground, watching my socked feet move. I have to force my shaky knees to stop clattering together, afraid that they’ll simply give out and I’ll end up a pile of mush on the floor. Taking deep breaths, I prepare myself for what Grandfather is going to say to me. I shouldn’t be panicking like this. He’s only my grandfather, for crying out loud.

  Haruka stops in front of a Japanese style door, one that slides open and shut rather than having a knob that turns, and gives three solid knocks.

  “Ohairi kudasai,” Grandfather’s voice resonates from inside.

  Haruka slides the door open and says
, “I have brought Rin-chan to see you, Ojii-san.”

  “Let her in and then you may go.”

  Haruka gives a slight bow and then moves into the hall. Before leaving, she gives me a quick glance and I’m sure I see worry filling her eyes. Okay, that doesn’t give me much hope that this is going to be a pleasant chat.

  Trying to swallow what little saliva I have left, I push the door the rest of the way open and go in.

  Forcing myself to think, I prepare the Japanese sentence in my head before I speak it, “Grandfather, you wanted to speak with me.”

  The old man sits on a cushion in the centre of the floor, his eyes closed and his body still. Grey streaks line his head mixing with the little bit of black he still has left, giving the blue and white yukata he’s wearing a feeling of timeless power. Like I’ve wandered into an old-timey samurai movie.

  Without opening his eyes, he points towards the cushion set out in front of him.

  With slow cautious steps, I move towards the other cushion and take a seat on my knees, resting my hands on my lap.

  For the first time since I entered the room, he inches his eyes open and looks upon me with a hard glare. When he speaks there’s no emotion or any other sign that this is a man talking to his grandchild. “I have only agreed to take you in as a favour to your mother.”

  He pauses, as if he’s waiting for a response from me. I give him a short nod, forcing myself to swallow.

  “I am well aware of your condition,” he continues. “But that does not excuse you from any of the rules of this house. You will attend school and participate in club activities. You are to maintain your grades at a level of which I deem fit. In addition you will also be attending Juku three times a week in preparation for university entrance exams.”

  Deciding it’s not in my best interest to say that entrance exams—if I’m still even here for them—are not for another year’s time, I give another brief nod.

  “You are to respect everyone in this household and follow instructions as they are given. Above all you are to stay out of your Grandmother’s way.”

  Feeling like I’m turning into a bobble head doll, I do the only thing I can think of—nod—even though that last rule does seem oddly specific. What does he mean by ‘stay out of Grandmother’s way’? It’s not like I’m going to go out of my way to upset someone. Even if she did greet me like a dog that crapped on her rug.

  “Now, go get ready for dinner. Your cousin’s room is upstairs and to the right. When you have finished, bring me your medication. You will come here every night after dinner for your medication so that I am able to ensure that you are taking it.”

  Great, Mum must have told him I was skipping doses. Not only did he make it clear that I’m not exactly welcome here, he’s going to be on the look out for any slip-ups. I give one—hopefully the last—nod and head for the door. I have no idea what will happen if I break one of his precious rules, but I doubt it will lead to me going home.

  I’d never be that lucky.

  Chapter 3

  “That welcome wasn’t very fun, was it?” Misa bounces ahead of me up the stairs, her raven hair swinging behind her in time with her steps.

  I shake my head, trying my best to ignore her persistent babbling, and knock on Haruka’s door.

  My cousin opens her door, for a second that look of hopeless worry fills her face before disappearing into a big beaming smile. While Grandfather was laying down the law, Haruka must have gotten changed. In place of her serious-looking sailor uniform is a comfy set of jeans and a dark woollen jumper that swamps her slender body like a rug.

  “Come in. Come in. Make yourself at home,” she says in one quick, excited breath.

  “So, you said we’re sharing a room?” I look over at the singular bed sitting against a wall covered in posters for J-pop idols and bands with names like Arashi and AKB48—which looks like there really could be 48 girls decked out in skimpy school girl-type costumes grinning down from that gigantic poster. A bright blue electric guitar lies slanted against the edge of the fluffy, pink bedspread.

  “Yes, it’ll be just like a slumber party.”

  I bite back the words that rush into my head, but still wind up thinking them. ‘No kidding’. I don’t really want to insult my cousin the first night if I can help it.

  “Where am I going to sleep?” The one bed thing doesn’t look like a good sign.

  She laughs like I’d told a really great joke before moving over to the closet that takes up most of the wall across from the bed and removes what looks like a folded up mattress. She drags it to the centre of the room.

  “I’m sleeping on the floor.” My tone slipping somewhere between a really confused statement and a self-answering question as I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, I don’t know how well it’d work in Japanese anyway.

  Another laugh, which makes me feel very stupid for speaking. “Haven’t you ever seen a futon before?”

  I shake my head and feel like telling her that the only futon I know of is a fold-up bed that doubles as a couch. Somehow I doubt the mat she’s tossing on the hardwood floor doubles as much of anything. “We don’t have that many Japanese items back home.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be just like a normal bed.” She shakes her head as she unrolls the flimsy-looking mattress and begins making the bed for me.

  Sure it is, except it’s on the floor—the hard floor—and has absolutely nothing in common with a normal bed. How am I going to survive when everything’s so different from what I’m used to? I can only force a smile and hope Mum will let me come home soon.

  “Come on.” She finishes making my bed and pushes herself to a standing position, brushing her hands down her jeans and jumper as if there’s some imaginary crinkles she got from all the crouching. “We’d better go down for dinner. We are having a special meal to celebrate your arrival.”

  I nod and follow her out of the room. I can only imagine how welcome I’ll feel.

  * * *

  You wouldn’t believe how glad I am when dinner’s finally over. That had to be the most uncomfortable celebratory dinner I’ve ever had.

  I spent the entire meal being fiercely observed by my disapproving grandfather while getting nervous distained glances from my fidgety grandmother. Haruka’s father just sat quietly at his own end of the table staring at his food. If it wasn’t for the occasional robotic motion of moving food across his plate, I’d swear he was another piece of furniture set out for display. Had to remind myself that he was still breathing more than once. The only one that seemed happy to be there was my talkative smiling cousin sitting next to me.

  Oh, I feel so much more welcome. Thank you, everybody.

  The second dinner was over I beat a hasty escape to somewhere not-there. Maybe if I go to sleep—on the floor—I’ll wake up back in my own bed, and this’ll all turn out to be some extremely trippy dream. Fat chance. The phone chimes as I make my way up the stairs and from somewhere down below I hear Haruka’s chipper voice answer it.

  “Moshi, moshi, Takahashi desu.” A short pause follows before she speaks again. “Hai Aunty, I will get her for you.”

  Before I can take another step I hear Haruka’s soft voice behind me, “Rin-chan, you have a phone call.”

  I nod and make my way back down to the corded phone sitting on a small table half-way along the corridor. This can’t be good. Taking the receiver in one shaky hand—I have absolutely no idea why, but the prospect of getting a lecture internationally doesn’t sound as fun as it should—and hold it against my ear. “Hello?”

  “Rin,” Mum’s voice comes out loud and crisp through the receiver. “Thank you for letting me know you arrived there safely.”

  Crap! I knew I was forgetting something. Her words echo through the receiver. Whenever she speaks to me in English it usually indicates that I’m royally screwed and, from the sound of it, I’m glad I’m in another time zone right now. She can’t possibly do anything to me long distance, right? Right?r />
  “Sorry,” I mumble, not sure what I can say that won’t result in me being chewed out over the phone.

  “How would I know that nothing went wrong with the plane? How would I know if you made it to your grandparents’ in one piece?”

  She continues to yell and I imagine her creamy face turning the slightest tinge of red, deep creases appearing in her forehead as well as the twitch in her eye she always gets when she feels it’s necessary to raise her voice so that I understand precisely what I did wrong—which happens to be with everything I attempt to do. “You had your father and I worried sick. Anything could have happened to you.”

  I remain silent, holding the receiver away from my ear just so that I’m not deafened by her ranting.

  “Rin, are you even listening to me?” she finally screams after she finishes her ranting.

  “Y...yes, Mum,” I stammer, nearly losing my grip of the phone as I yank it back towards my ear. “Sorry, I forgot. Something happened on the train and I just—”

  “What happened?” Mum says in a quick, panicked voice, cutting me off.

  “I...I...” I struggle to find the words. “It’s nothing.”

  “Rin, tell me what happened.” She speaks to me as though I’m still six years old.

  “I thought I saw someone push a girl off the train platform.”

  “Are you seeing things again? When did your hallucinations start—?”

  “I’m not hallucinating,” I cut Mum off, forcing my voice to stay low. I don’t need everyone here thinking I’m off my rocker. At least not any more than they already do.

  “Are you taking your medication?”

  “Hai,” I say, knowing that it’s useless to try to convince anyone of what I saw. Maybe I am hallucinating. For years, people have been telling me that Misa’s a hallucination, yet she refuses to leave me alone.

  “You know we only sent you away for your own good,” her tone softening with each word. “It’s not just about that night either. It’s about these hallucinations you’ve been having. Rin, you need to grow out of this imaginary friend phase and if sending you away will help then you will just have to behave yourself and listen to your grandfather.”