Storm. Amanda Sun
that?”
“You’re fucked up,” said Ishikawa.
Jun shook his head. “The world is rotting,” he said. “Tell me you’re not glad he’s dead, Katie.”
I am glad. I’m glad he’s gone.
No. I couldn’t think like that, not again.
The ink protects. It marks the world and paints the future. There is no escape from its judgment.
“Greene!” Ishikawa’s voice shook me out of it. “Your eyes,” he said, his face twisted in confusion.
“Even the ink in you knows,” Jun said. “We can’t sit by any longer.”
“Tomo won’t join you,” I said. “Neither will I.”
Jun laughed. “I don’t need Yuu to help me anymore. As the heir of Susanou, I am more powerful. But Yuu is an abomination. He’ll blast a hole in the world when he explodes.” Jun straddled his motorbike, sliding the helmet onto his head and pulling the strap tight below his chin. “My offer to him isn’t open anymore. He will serve me, or he will be purged from this world. And until then, I will continue to do what needs to be done.” His motorbike roared to life, sputtering as his words echoed through my head.
I thought back to my dream, the sword on the ground covered in ink, Tomo lying nearby. My eyes blurred with the tears I tried to hold back. “Jun, please. If we were ever friends, please don’t do this.”
Ishikawa rested a hand on my shoulder. “Forget it, Greene. You act like he has a heart.”
There was a sadness in Jun’s eyes. “You doubt me, even now. That I ever cared for you.”
“Oh, you cared for me all right,” I said, my hands curling into fists. “Like a dragon cares for gold.”
He smiled and revved his bike. “More than that.” He laughed. “And I’m reminded why.”
“Creep,” Ishikawa said. “Get the hell out of here before I call the police.”
“They’d be more interested in you, Ishikawa. All I ever did was sketch.” He turned to look at me for a moment, and then lowered his visor. “Gomen,” he said, almost below hearing. I’m sorry. The same thing he’d said in the dream. And then his bike roared out of the courtyard gate. We listened to the sound of it as the distance grew, as the rumbling faded into the cold wind that swirled around us.
“It’s war, then,” Ishikawa said, and the tears I’d been holding back spilled down my cheeks.
“Well, what now?” Ishikawa said. “What a jackass. Do you want a coffee or something?”
I shook my head, unable to answer.
“Why do you call him by his first name, anyway? You guys close once?”
He didn’t know that Jun had kissed me, that Shiori had used her phone to try and drive a wedge between Tomo and me. Everything Jun did seemed to contradict what I knew about him. Did he care for me, or had he really just used me the whole time? I felt like maybe it was a bit of both. And did he really believe he was helping the world by killing Hanchi? He sounded so convinced, like he’d had no choice. Hanchi had destroyed Jun’s family; he wasn’t a good person, that was for sure. And the criminal system had failed with him. But still...vigilante justice was only a good thing in movies, right?
“Katie?”
Oh god, I’d totally phased out. “Sorry.”
Ishikawa shook his head. “It’s a lot of bullshit to take in,” he said. “No wonder you’re confused. That guy is a psycho.”
I wanted to agree, but I felt like there was more to Jun. Life had given him so many bad turns—some he’d chosen, some he hadn’t. If he wasn’t a Kami, things would be different. But he was, and I couldn’t keep making up excuses for him. Ishikawa was right—I needed to stay away from him. There was nothing good to gain from being near him anymore.
“Well?” Ishikawa said. “Want to check in on Yuuto?”
I thought back to the text he’d sent me in class and smiled to myself. That glimpse of normal life—that could keep me going. “You’re Third Year, too, aren’t you? Don’t you have some kind of cram school for entrance exams?”
Ishikawa let out a laugh and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “There’s no point for me to study for entrance exams,” he said. “I’m going to fail them, anyway.”
I looked at him, unsure what to say. I couldn’t imagine giving up before I’d tried. “It’s only October,” I said. “You have time.”
He kicked at the ground and started walking away from Katakou School. “Yeah, what am I going to accomplish in four months?”
He was heading toward Otamachi, where Tomo lived. I followed, wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck as the evening darkness fell. “Yeah, but you’ve been studying all year, right? Don’t give up now.”
“So inspirational, Greene!” He put his hand to his heart and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he smirked. “College isn’t for me, anyway.”
“What, you’d rather slum it with the Yakuza? That’s not a future, Ishikawa.”
“Why the hell are you so interested in my future? Not everyone can pull off marks like Yuuto, okay? God, drop it already.”
I’d hit a sore spot, I could see that. But Ishikawa didn’t strike me as dumb, at least not school-wise. Weren’t the exams really just about preparedness, anyway?
We were already talking about them in my homeroom, and I was only a First Year at Suntaba. Oh god...would I pass the entrance exams? Maybe I should reconsider international school, after all. But no; I’d probably have to do entrance exams regardless. And Yuki insisted they were way more brutal than the SATs that had loomed at home. I’d kind of escaped those, too. If I’d moved in with Nan and Gramps in Canada, there wouldn’t be any crazy tests to get into university, just a good GPA and all those extracurriculars they asked us to rack up. Kendo and Tea Ceremony Club were good starts, I figured.
What did I want to do, anyway? I’d always thought about journalism like Mom, but in Japan? And Shiori had said a Japanese husband would likely want me to quit my job and stay home. Was that even true? Not all of them felt that way. Or would I make my way back to the States, all alone again, ripping my roots out and starting over? I didn’t feel like I was strong enough to do that. It all felt too far away to be real.
“Earth to Greene,” Ishikawa said, waving a hand in front of me so close I blinked. “Man, you space out more than Yuuto. You coming or what?”
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”
He shook his head and we continued toward Otamachi, toward Tomo’s house looming in the dark, the silver plate that read The Yuu Family illuminated by a tiny light. I pressed the button underneath the plaque, and a fake-sounding electronic doorbell chimed out of the speaker attached to it. We waited, but nothing.
“Maybe he’s not home,” I said.
“There are lights on, dummy.”
I bristled, wanting to shove him. “Yeah, but his dad works so late. Maybe he stepped out to the conbini to grab some dinner. Should I try his keitai?”
Ishikawa pressed the buzzer again, then stepped backward. He cupped his hands around his mouth and took a deep breath. “Yuuto!” When nothing happened, he yelled again. “Yuuuuuutooooo!” I bit my lip to keep from laughing.