by J D Astra
“It’s all I need.”
Her words struck me, and my heart ached. ‘You will ignore the odds and charge ahead because you trust me?’
“Dokun has hurt us a hundred times already through his puppets. He’ll do it a thousand times more if he’s allowed to take power. Stopping him is the right thing to do, and if you’re ready to die for that, I trust you, and I’m ready, too.”
I sighed out a deep breath. Was I ready to die? No, of course not. But was I willing to if it meant protecting everyone he would subjugate, including my family? Yes.
“And, you know, I don’t really have a choice since I have to go where you go.” Mae’s likeness appeared in my vision, grinning sarcastically. “But let’s try not to die, okay?”
I grinned. ‘I’ll do my best.’
A gong rang out from the front gate, jolting me back to the present. The Moon Shadow students ran to the door with smiles on their faces. They had no idea what awaited them at the performance, but with a little luck, we could prevent it and reveal the truth.
Hana strolled through the kitchen with a kind smile, looping her arm in mine. “Ready?”
I nodded. “Very.”
We strolled toward the entrance, Hana’s fingers tight at the crook of my elbow. I flexed my bicep twice. She looked up to me, then loosened her grip with a sigh. I was scared just the same but knew that fear wouldn’t serve me in the face of uncertainty. We had to be calm. We had to be rational. And most of all, we had to trust each other.
I wasn’t prepared for the sight beyond the front doors, which gave me pause. Twenty Enjiho stood at attention, facing the school. They were all marked with two red bands across their shoulder that led to a gold star. Mae had been documenting the different Enjiho we’d seen, and we’d never encountered these. They must’ve been a special design, or perhaps they had elite machina users on the other end. Whatever they were, they could be a wrinkle in the plan.
When all four hundred of the Moon Shadow students and the eighteen Bastions had gathered, the Enjiho led us down the hill where a line of ground transport waited to ferry us to the train station as before. I took note of the controls the driver had, how many seats to each vehicle, how many openings and where they were. Cho had already gone over this a multitude of times I was sure, since he would oversee the first leg of the escape operation, but still, I felt myself compulsively going over the details.
We were transported in waves to the train depot, until finally, we were in the air and on our way to the heart of Kokyu. The Kobayashi Performance Hall was just a kilometer away from the Enjiho refueling and control station we would use, putting us perfectly center of the six control devices planted around the city.
“Stop it. You’re making me nauseous with this obsessive repetition,” Mae whispered playfully.
I made idle chatter with my friends to stop my rampant thoughts. No code words or plan talks, just friendly banter. It kept my mind busy and away from the ebbing anxiety, until we landed in the Yoki district, not far from the performance hall.
Dokun waited for us on the platform, a broad smile lighting his eyes. He was flanked by two Enjiho, these similarly marked with the red stripes and a gold star. The students bounded out of the train. Dokun welcomed them all but waited for me.
When I’d caught up to him, Hana still clutching my arm, he scowled. “You look dreadful. Everything alright at school?”
“Just a little homesick—and nightmares from the luau,” I said truthfully. Getting dragged through dozens of meters of dark water had been a terrifying experience that lingered with me.
He nodded. “Understandable. Let’s make this a bright night to blot out that darkness, shall we?”
I smiled and hummed approval. Dokun walked at my other side as the Enjiho led us from the train depot. It unnerved me being so close to him, but I kept a smile on my face and an extra protective layer of ry wrapped around my mind. It wasn’t hard to forget our predicament when we emerged onto the city street.
I’d seen glimpses of the Yoki district as I’d done my work with Thespra, but to see it in full color from the ground instead of the sky... It was a wonder. The buildings towered high overhead, glinting with the midmorning sun and dressed in ry displays. Angled gardens lined tiered buildings that narrowed into spires at the twentieth floor.
Though the sun was still high in the sky, the streets glowed with neon light from the ground-level shops. Transports buzzed about just a few meters overhead, filling me with anxiety. Dokun had used the train to execute terror attacks before... I shook my head, trying not to let the fear seep into me. I couldn’t be afraid of the possibility. I had to be prepared for it.
We walked on foot for a few blocks. Dokun asked about our favorite experiences so far and favorite foods, which put me at ease and allowed me to act like a nephew. We talked about Hana’s love of noodles, my love of donuts, and Yuri—having heard us talking about food—was quick to join in with her favorites. Cho and Shin-soo even mentioned what they’d liked best about the trip, and for once, I felt like a student on an exchange trip.
“So, this is your gang?” Dokun asked, waving a hand between my friends.
My heart skipped a beat, and I cocked my head. “Gang?”
He scowled. “Perhaps that’s not the right word. These are your friends that helped you defeat Hiro last year, yes?”
I didn’t like the implication nor where this conversation was headed. Why would he bring this up?
“Yes, we’re his best friends,” Hana said with a calm smile when I didn’t reply.
“How did you meet?” he asked.
Cho fell into step beside Dokun. “I met him in line for our entrance exam. He was so cold and quiet, I thought he didn’t like me. But then we met again at school when we were accepted.”
Dokun nodded. “And you study together?”
“Yes, exactly. Jiyong helped me with my zo training first year, and I helped him with li. He was terrible with it—and not much better now,” Cho said with a chuckle, and we all laughed.
“I helped with en,” Yuri said raising her hand enthusiastically.
“And you?” Dokun asked looking to Shin-soo.
He shrugged and turned his face up. “I’m not really with them.”
The casual sense of conversation departed as I realized what Dokun was doing. He was prodding our group for weakness and discovering our strengths, and we were giving it all away so easily. How had he lured us into this conversation? I had to steer us away from this dangerous investigation.
The Kobayashi Performance Hall came into view ahead, and I stood on my toes to see it past the tall shoulders of the Enjiho.
“We’re almost there,” I said.
Yuri took off at a skip, and I picked up my pace as well, ending Dokun’s prodding. The performance hall was not nearly as tall as the surrounding buildings, but at least twice as wide. The front was made almost entirely of glass with few metal support beams, similar to Dokun’s building.
We arrived at the grand glass hall and were invited inside by men and women in black dress suits. They took our coats and showed us through to the reception room. The ceiling was the first thing I noticed. It was at least four stories high, dancing with brilliantly colored light and softly falling snow. I held out my hand to catch a flake, but it disappeared before reaching me.
“Spell enchanted,” Dokun said with amusement. “This is just the beginning of the performance.”
“Cho-bin-bin?” A high-pitched squeal came from across the crowded room.
Cho straightened, a look of bewilderment on his face as he searched for the source—his sister Zari. Her elegant silken dress flowed like water as she walked toward us on tall wooden shoes.
The silk was a piece of art, showing a wonderous winter scene deep in the mountains. Mist clung to the tops of deep green snow-dusted pine trees, and swirling clouds climbed up her hips. Her chest was an aurora of brilliant color, and a shawl that seemed to be made of snow hung over her shoulders.
>
Cho grinned at his big sister and took her offered hand. “You look lovely.”
“Isn’t it just beautiful?” she exclaimed, pulling on the gown. “I’m going to tell the Grandmaster of the Silver Dragonfly about these dresses. They’re just incredible. Oh, who’s this?” she asked, looking to Dokun.
I dipped my head. “This is my jobu-ke, Dokun Yamamotto.”
“I’ve heard of you,” she said with an excited grin. “You’re the one bringing Kokyu out of the dark ages with your machina.”
Dokun smiled. “Yes, that’s me.”
A gentle chime rang out overhead, and Zari jumped. “Almost time to get ready. Oh, Cho-bin, do you want to see backstage? I bet I could sneak you and your friends in to see all these beautiful dresses for a moment.”
“I’d like to,” Hana said, real excitement in her voice.
“Wouldn’t that spoil the show?” Dokun asked, his face stoic.
“Just a quick peek won’t hurt anything. The magic is in the dancing, anyway. Come on,” Zari said and offered Hana her arm.
Hana took it, but kept her other hand locked tightly at my elbow. “Just a few minutes?”
I looked to Dokun with resignation. “We’ll be brief.”
He nodded me off, and with that, Zari led us away on her tall shoes. We kept smiles on our faces as she wound down through the narrow passages. Square lanterns with cherry blossom patterns lit the way down the stairs to the stage where a massive red curtain hung stories high.
Stagehands dressed in tight black suits moved about with props, weapons, and massive colorful fans. Spotlights on the floor lit the places where the stagehands arranged the dancer’s tools. It felt like pure chaos with bodies weaving in and out of one another, but they never collided.
Zari led us across the stage to the side where another tall, black curtain obscured the back. We passed through the thick cloth to an eruption of sound. If the stage had been graceful chaos, this was angry madness.
Row upon row of mirrored desks sat back-to-back, littered with various boxes of powder and vials of perfume. Bright bulbs protruded from around the mirror, lighting men and women as they leaned in to apply their finishing touches. Performers yelled to their assistants to help with garments, wigs, jewelry, and shoes. Others argued over missing makeup, and some simply panicked for the coming performance.
We weaved around the stage performers as we walked through the rows, and on more than one occasion I bumped shoulders with a dancer or assistant and exchanged a hurried apology. We approached a dressing room flanked by a willowy man in silver and another woman in purple.
“Gan-mei, Hoi, come meet my little brother and his friends,” Zari said brightly as we passed them into the room.
Everything went silent when I stepped through the door, and I looked back to see a gentle purple shimmer around it. Someone had cast an impressive ry noise barrier. The carpet here was fluffy, almost like standing on a pillow, and a deep red. The walls were black and gold, with more of the stunning paper lanterns lighting it.
Ko-nah sat at the center of the room in meditation, purple ry munje swirling around him like a vortex. He opened his eyes when I approached, and the munje receded into his body.
“Took you long enough,” he said with a scowl.
“Dokun has us pinned down, but Zari handled it well,” I said with a smile to the older girl. She bowed in reply.
“Well,” Ko-nah groaned as he came to his feet. “Are you ready to do this, or what?”
I grimaced. “I still don’t like this idea.”
“Why, you think I can’t pull it off?” he challenged. It was that same high-and-mighty attitude as when we worked together at Bastion, and I hated it.
“No, I think you spent enough time in my head to know how I act,” I fired back.
He cracked a smile and imitated my voice. “I’m a poor boy from outer-city, but I don’t follow the stereotype of never asking for help or overachieving to prove my worth or—”
“Ko-nah!” Hana roared, and he fell silent. “We get it. You’re the smartest one of us all and only you can pull this off. Can we move on?”
He smirked, turning his head up. “Good of someone to finally notice.”
Gan-mei cleared his throat. “Are you boys done measuring? We have a performance to get to.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Yeah. Let’s get it over with.”
Chapter 33
I RAN MY FINGERS OVER the foreign scar decorating the side of my head. Who knew make-up could do such a convincing job of masking one’s identity? Keeping a ry glimmer up with every little detail of the façade would’ve been exhausting, but Hana’s suggestion to use performers tools had truly been valuable. While I’d never admit it out loud, she was quite resourceful. Having grown up in the entertainment business gave her an advantage for options I’d never have considered myself.
“Are you done?” my own voice asked from behind me.
I looked past the foreign reflection of green eyes and darker skin in the mirror to the doppelganger of me. He stood behind me with arms crossed, a terrible scowl wrinkling my beautiful face. He’d never learned my body language, but fortunately it wasn’t him who would be scrutinized, it would be me.
“Nearly,” I said in Jiyong’s voice. It was perfectly convincing. With my knowledge of the inner workings of his mind and having had way too many dry conversations, I knew how Jiyong worked. Yamamotto would never be able to tell the difference.
“All right, last step,” Hana said, holding up the terrifying contraption.
I grimaced. “Does it really go in my skin?”
“Are you thinking of backing out over a few cuts?” the doppelganger growled, somehow scowling harder.
I blinked at him exaggeratedly. “No. I’m simply wondering if we couldn’t wrap it around my leg or something.”
The fake Ko-nah shook his head. “Your back will give me better options for escape. I doubt you want me navigating her up through your trousers.”
I sucked air through my teeth. “Not so much. Fine. Just do it.”
Hana lined the metal monstrosity up with my spine. The fake Ko-nah reached out, then flexed his fingers. Pain shot through my back from a million different points, forcing me to cry out. I gritted my teeth and slowed my breathing. Trickles of blood tickled my skin. He flexed his hand again and the tiny blades twisted, then dug deeper. I bared my teeth and groaned through the pain. That asshole was doing this on purpose.
“Are you done yet?” I hissed angrily.
“I need to make sure it’s secure.”
I closed my eyes against the intense torment. “It’s secure! I can feel it burrowing into my muscle.”
Hana’s warm hand smoothed across my upper back, and icy relief filled the space where stabbing agony once was. She did this again across my lower back, and then the pain was gone, leaving only a nagging throb behind.
I looked at her over my shoulder, fury burning in my chest. “You couldn’t have done that before?”
“I didn’t know it’d hurt that bad,” she said defensively.
“Little diamond claws digging into my muscles and you didn’t think it’d hurt that bad?” I demanded.
My body-double shrugged. “It didn’t hurt me that much.”
“Boys,” Zari said over the chatter, and we quieted. “We need to hurry.”
Hana mopped up what little blood had escaped me, then helped me into my shirt. I didn’t know how Jiyong did it, moving around with this thing nailed into his back.
I straightened the shirt in the mirror, then wrapped the Moon Shadow robes around my tall, muscular frame. The ryzo I’d mixed to stretch the legs and bulk my muscles was a drain, but I could hold it all night if I had to. I turned to face the others, arms out, looking for appraisal. My double tapped his chin, then messed with my hair.
He nodded. “Good. This is going to work.” He looked up at me, his brow pinched in concern. “Are you sure you’ll make it to the rendezvous in time? We won’t be
able to wait long.”
I wasn’t certain escaping Dokun would be possible, let alone making it to the rendezvous, but I smiled confidently. “Of course. I’ve got this.”
Cho passed me two unmarked vials, their reflective casing making it impossible to tell what they might be. “Nevermore Draught. It’ll drop you into an unconscious state that mimics death and lasts up to eight hours, and only takes twenty seconds to kick in.”
“And the other?” I asked, taking both potions.
He pointed to the different colored stoppers. “Black is Nevermore, white is Swimmer’s Lung. You’ll be able to breathe sea water for up to fifteen minutes. The potion tastes horrible, but don’t spit any out.”
I tucked them away in the inner lining of my robe with a smirk. “It’ll be easy. Don’t worry.”
The doppelganger crossed his arms. “Don’t get too cocky. Stay alert, and be careful.”
“Trust me, I’m a ball of nerves under this confident Jiyong mask.” I patted his shoulder, feeling a sense of fondness for him. He did care—truly. I wished I’d...
There was no time for wishing. All the time I had left was for righting wrongs.
“Fifteen minutes to curtain. We have to go now,” Zari said, fixing her dangling hair chimes again.
“I’ll see you later.” My body-double knocked his chest twice and held out his fist. Cho and Hana did the same, holding their fists together, then looked to me. Guilt constricted my stomach like a mamushi snake. I’d betrayed him before, yet he offered me this chance—they all did. I wouldn’t let them down this time.
I smiled and returned the bumps. “Yeah, later.”
He turned to Hana, gripping her hands tightly. “No unnecessary risks. Promise me.”
“I should be the one demanding that promise of you,” she said with a teary-eyed chuckle. “I promise.” She leaned down—hesitated for a second—then kissed him. I felt a pang of jealousy for my double.
“Ready, my darling,” I said, offering my arm to Hana.
She pursed her lips and took it but kept herself a good distance away from me.
“Just pretend it’s me,” my double said, pushing her against me.