by Amanda Sun
The shadows. The beach. The Torii.
My chance to escape.
All gone.
But the worst was the simple truth—the woman in the kimono was right.
There is no escape, she’d said. There is only death.
It’s not like I wanted to be all dark and hopeless about it, but night after night of monsters whispering in your ear will do that to you. I used to think there was something wrong with me, that I needed medication or serious therapy. Like my mom—Kaasan always took a bunch of different pills for her nightmares, though she tried to hide them until she thought I was upstairs.
Now I know. There’s definitely something wrong. And it’s not something I can fix with any drugs.
I pushed my bangs out of my eyes and reached for my keitai phone on the table. I flipped it open, squinting as the bright LCD screen flashed into my eyes.
A couple texts from Myu, both from last night, wondering why I hadn’t called. I was a shitty boyfriend, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t really sure why she put up with me. She was tall, leggy, determined to have her way. Sometimes I wondered if Myu just saw me as a challenge, a puzzle to untangle like the Debate Club she belonged to. When Myu confessed her feelings for me, I was a little embarrassed she hadn’t seen through me. A lot of girls confessed because they thought I was some kind of mystery. I came late to class a lot, and sometimes I needed to skip, because of my...condition. But I worked late nights and pulled the grades I needed to keep my dad off my back. Tousan’s the last one I wanted involved in what was really going on with me. And somehow the girls thought this made me a disappearing badass who was boyfriend material. I’d thought Myu was smarter than that.
Why the hell would I want to be some mysterious badass? All I wanted was for the shadow to leave me alone, the nightmares to stop.
But they won’t. Not until I’m dead. I know that, because of what I am. Marked, chosen. Hunted, like Taira.
I scanned through Myu’s text messages and clapped the phone shut, tossing it on my pillow. Half a second later my alarm went off and I slammed a hand on it in the darkness.
Normally I would stumble downstairs to start on my school bentou, but lately Myu had insisted on bringing me a homemade lunch, the box wrapped in bright furoshiki cloths and filled with cream-and-strawberry sandwiches, cherry tomatoes and onigiri rice balls. Her cooking wasn’t too bad, but she always had trouble rolling the sweet egg right. It came out lumpy and crooked, which she tried to hide with strategic flower-shaped picks.
I guess I shouldn’t complain. I couldn’t get it right either.
In the kitchen, I wolfed down a bowl of miso soup and slathered a piece of thick toast in honey and butter. I grabbed my blazer from the hook by the door just as Tousan stumbled down the stairs.
“Ittekuru,” I mumbled at him, letting him know I was heading for school. He nodded, sleepy, rubbing his head with his hand. He’s not lazy, my dad. He likes to see how far he can push the notion of overtime, which means getting home at 4:00 a.m. and waking up late. Sometimes he ends up sleeping at the company because it’s just easier. We didn’t really get along anymore, not since I’d had to transfer schools. So it’s easier for both of us if he’s at work. He thinks I’m following his rules, and I don’t have to disappoint him with the truth.
He didn’t even say the expected farewell “Itterasshai” when I closed the front door. He just grunted, like that alone was too much effort.
I grabbed my bike and cycled as fast as could toward Suntaba Senior High School. One more year and I could vanish from Shizuoka City into whatever life I wanted. Everyone wanted to move to Tokyo but I wanted somewhere quiet—Kyushu, maybe, something really remote. There were a few attractive schools in Osaka, but I wasn’t sure if they were far enough away, and they were definitely too crowded. And I wasn’t sure what Tousan would say when I brought up schools that weren’t for banking or medicine. He’d probably hit me so hard that I’d land in Osaka anyway.
The minute I slammed my bike into the rack at school, I heard Myu from across the courtyard.
“Yuu-chan!”
I wouldn’t let her use my first name. It was too close, too personal, and I wasn’t used to letting someone see that deeply into me. I had to keep Myu at a distance, to keep her safe. I couldn’t let her get hurt by the monster in me. I wasn’t that shitty of a boyfriend.
She walked toward me, waving goodbye to her friends with perfectly manicured fingernails. I rolled my eyes. She should’ve been wearing gloves—it was winter, and even though there was no snow on the ground, the wind still held a sharp bite.
It’s not like I didn’t like Myu. For one thing, she was totally hot. I was pretty sure Sato was jealous she’d confessed to me because he’d acted all pissed. And sometimes Myu whispered kind things to me that caught me off guard, and then I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go.
I liked having someone who cared about me, how being with Myu let me pretend I was normal. I liked that I was starting to really fall for her. Loud and demanding as she sometimes was, she had this other side to her that was thoughtful and soft. I wanted to let her see the real me, call me by my first name, to let her into my world. To draw for her.
Then I would remember what I was capable of, and why I could never do that. The shadows that tried to claim Taira in the nightmare—they were coming for me, too. The ink drowning my life—I could barely control it. I couldn’t afford to drop my guard, not even with Myu.
She wrapped both arms tightly around my arm, pressing her cheek against my shoulder.
“Yuu-chan,” she whined, her fingernails glittering in the sunlight. “You didn’t answer my texts last night.”
I wanted to say sorry, but that’s what nice guys said, and I couldn’t be one, not with the crowd we were drawing. Nice guys attract friends, but I needed everyone to leave me alone. I stepped back and shrugged.
“I was busy.”
“With what? Practice?” I didn’t answer. It was a good enough excuse. I couldn’t tell any of them the truth, not really. “Yuu-chan, the tournament’s not for weeks. How long does it take to write your girlfriend a text?”
“I barely made it home before I collapsed, Myu,” I lied. To make up for it, I cupped her chin in my hand and kissed her forehead gently. It’s not like I wanted to be a jerk, but I couldn’t afford the attention. To protect Myu and my classmates—to protect myself—I had to keep everyone at a distance. That way I could stay in control. I couldn’t let it fall apart the way it had before.
Being a loner had worked for a while, but that’s when the balance tipped. Because when one of the kendo champs of the school turns down every cute girl’s confession, shuns almost every guy who wants to hang out, forgets his wristband and shows off the trail of scars on his arm—that’s when he becomes mysterious, a puzzle to be solved. That’s when people talk, when the rumors swirl and the truth hovers just below the surface, ready to destroy everything.
That’s when Myu had confessed, and I’d known what I had to do. Now we’d been together for three months, and they’d stopped digging into my past, into my present. They’d forgotten to ask where I disappeared to or where the scars came from. We’d become mini-celebrities, as much as an American quarterback dating a cheerleader, shallow crowd-pleasers who weren’t asked any tough questions. We were normal, and on top of that, I blended in. And as I’d come to know Myu better, I’d found maybe I didn’t have to be alone anymore.
Maybe. And then the voice from my dreams, the woman holding the mirror.
There is only death.
“Oi, Yuuto!” came a sharp voice, and I snapped my head up. Damn it. Nothing like spacing out to get the rumors going.
“Yo, Sato,” I said, waving my free arm at him. Satoshi grinned back as he walked toward us. His hair was bleached as white as a rice ball, and he’d hoisted his shinai, the wooden sword we used for kendo, across the back of his shoulders, both wrists wrapped around it like he was carrying a yoke. The white tie wrapped a
long the handle was unraveling, meaning he wasn’t taking care of his equipment. Coach Watanabe would be pissed if he noticed during practice.
Myu’s lips turned in a frown. She and Satoshi didn’t get along. Myu didn’t think much of the circles he associated with, but Sato and I went too far back for me to turn on him for any girl. We were kendo teammates and best friends since elementary school—since the transfer, when the world had gone dark around me. He had his own share of secrets, but it didn’t stop him from trying to drag mine out from time to time.
“Ne, Ishikawa,” Myu said, calling him by his last name to stress the distance between them. I stumbled as she tugged me toward her and pointed a finger at Satoshi. “You had all last night’s kendo practice with him. It’s my turn now, so get lost.”
Ishikawa’s face crumpled in confusion. “Kendo practice?”
Shit. The ice below me was cracking. I headed toward the school door. I had to lose the crowd before I plunged down and drowned in the truth. Myu was dragged along with me, her arms slowly unlinking from around my arm. Satoshi followed, despite the glare of death I was giving him.
“Wait,” Myu said as I pulled open the genkan door. Walls of stacked boxes formed aisles of shoes and school slippers around us. “There was no practice last night?” The door swung shut behind the three of us. I said nothing, slipping out of my shoes and striding toward my box.
“The week before school ends?” Sato smirked. “Not likely.”
“Yuu-chan, were you...lying?”
“I didn’t lie, exactly,” I said, my eyes downcast to the floor. I had to fix this, but instead I’d gone into panic mode, alarms blaring in my head. My heart felt like it would give out. So much for being suave and in control. Dumbass.
“Where were you then?” Myu said.
“With some other girl.” Sato grinned.
I gave him a look of imminent murder. “Urusai,” I spat. “You’re a dick, Sato.” I pressed my fingers into Myu’s shoulders, looking into her wide eyes. “He’s lying.”
She didn’t look like she believed me.
“I’m totally lying, Myu,” Ishikawa laughed, and then she let out a shaky breath. What the hell? She believes him, but not me?
“So?” she said, waiting for the truth.
“So he was probably sketching,” Satoshi said, ramming his toes against the wooden floor to push the slippers onto his feet. “Loverboy wants to be a freaking Picasso.”
“Shut up, Sato,” I said. I hoped he wouldn’t hear the waver in my voice.
“Wait, what? You never told me that,” Myu said.
“Just some dumb art class,” I said. “It’s for my cram school. It’s nothing.”
“Don’t go cutting off your ears,” Sato added helpfully.
“That was van Gogh, moron.”
“It’s nothing, huh? Why are you flustered then?” Myu smiled. “Come on, let me see your sketches.”
“I don’t really have any,” I said. “I leave them at cram school.” Every part of my skin felt itchy, and I wanted to get out of there.
“Ne, will you draw me sometime?”
“Maybe naked,” Sato quipped.
I whirled around. “What part of shut up didn’t you understand?”
“Yuu-chan, please?”
“I’m no good,” I snapped at her. “And I don’t draw people, ever.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t, okay? God, you guys. Leave it alone.”
I slid open the door to the hallway and slammed it closed behind me. Calm down, I told myself, but I couldn’t. I was sinking in the sand, the gateway to escape out of reach. Everything was unraveling in front of me, the shadows closing in. Swirling around me like I was some demon at the end of a dark alley. Which I guess I was.
There is only death.
No. I’ll fight it. I’ll fight it until the end.
Chapter Three
Katie
Nan was flying back to Canada without me. Gramps was too sick, and despite my protests that I would help them, there was still a mess of paperwork hanging over us.
A few years ago, before Gramps’ brief remission, he’d been so far gone that we were waiting for the call any day. At that time, when all our waking thoughts were of death, Mom made an appointment and changed her will. Legal custody of me would go to her sister, Diane, and not Nan and Gramps. Even without the legal issues, it was Mom’s last wish, and Nan was holding to it religiously.
“But Aunt Diane lives in Japan,” I said.
“I know, sweetie.”
“Japan.”
“I know. And it’s a nice country. I visited her there and the people were just lovely.”
“Nan, I don’t even speak Japanese!”
She’d squeezed my hands in hers again, but this time her grasp was weak. “We’ll get it sorted out,” she said.
Like I was just some sort of tangled knitting project of hers, like she could just unravel me and start over. Twisting my life into new shapes, something that everyone would nod and agree suited me better. But the stitches from my old life would show, the snarls and bends of the old pattern wrecking the new.
Mom was gone. Could we just stop trying to fix it for a minute? It couldn’t be fixed. Shipping me overseas wouldn’t make my life better. It would just make me vanish, tucked away where no one could look at me and feel awkward. Was Nan even on my side? Her eyes were tired and sad. I knew she loved me, but I also knew she wasn’t really seeing me. She was seeing Mom, and having her close but out of reach was hurting her.
God, I felt so alone. I was alone. This sore, horrible aching in my chest like I would just fall into pieces. All I wanted was to disappear.
There was a knock on my bedroom door. Almost all the guests had left from the memorial, ready to get back to their real lives.
This was the only life I had left. And it was falling apart.
A second, louder knock came, and before I could answer it, my door swung open to Aunt Diane, standing there with a worried look on her face.
“Hey,” she said.
I slumped down onto my bed, the energy knocked out of me. What kind of guardian would Aunt Diane be anyway? I knew so little about her.
Nan sat down beside me, patting my leg as I stared at the ceiling.
“So...you know, huh?” Diane said.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Mom never wanted to go to Japan. Why would she send me?”
“I think she was more concerned that you be with someone who loves you and can take care of you,” Nan said. “Diane will look after you, Katie.”
Can’t you do that? I thought. Don’t you love me? You wouldn’t do this to me if you did.
I figure you’re allowed to be childish when you’ve lost everything.
“I know it’s been hard to spend time together, Katie,” Diane added. “But we’re family, and I want to do what I can to help you.”
“Then let me live with Nan,” I snapped.
Nan moved her reassuring hand from my leg. “Katie.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Diane said. “She has a right to be upset. Katie, you know Nan and Gramps really can’t handle any big changes right now. Let’s just work it out for a bit until Gramps is better, okay?”
“I don’t want to,” I said, and Diane’s face fell. Okay, so I felt a little guilty about acting five, but my life was crumbling before my eyes. It was my only way to fight back. “Look, Aunt Diane, it’s nothing personal, but I don’t even know Japanese. I mean, past Hello Kitty and sushi, I really have no clue.”
“Just Diane,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I never got the hang of that aunt thing. And it’s okay. I know you’ll pick it up quickly. I’ll help you, and you can enroll in cram school, too.”
“I can’t,” I snapped, but what I meant was, I’m afraid. Too much change, all at once. Sure, going to Japan was exciting, but not if you’re going because your mom is dead and nobody wants you. I just wanted Mom. That’s all. Not exile to the other side of the world
.
And the conversation I’d had with Mom hung over me like a dark cloud. It was the living-there-forever part of the talk swirling in my thoughts, Mom’s face when I’d wanted to take that vacation to Japan. What if you never come back? And now, to be told I was moving there—it was like some eerie prophecy of hers coming true, like something terrible was waiting for me there.
That was crazy, right? Because there was nothing more terrible than what had already happened to me. But why did I feel that way?
Nan and Diane looked at each other for a minute.
“Well,” Diane said cautiously. “What if you stay here?”
“Alone?” Nan and I said together.
“No, I mean with Linda. Just for a bit. The school year in Japan doesn’t start until the end of March, and I wouldn’t want to throw you in halfway through the year. Maybe we can wait to see if Gramps gets better? You’ll at least have a bit of time to figure out what you want to do.”
It was true Linda had offered to let me stay as long as I wanted, but I doubted she was thinking of adopting me for the rest of the year. It was one of those empty promises people make to you, like “let me know if you need anything” and “I know your mom’s in a better place.”
“What’s putting off the inevitable going to do?” I said.
“More time to decide,” Diane said. “It’s too sudden right now.”
“Yeah, but decide what? I don’t have any options.”
“I know,” Diane said, “but not having options doesn’t mean you don’t have choices.”
“Um...I don’t get it.”
Diane crouched in front of me, smelling of sweat and punch and appetizers from downstairs. “You can come to Japan filled with hope and confidence that you’ll make it work. Or you can be dragged because your life’s in tatters and none of us can fix it the way you want. And who knows, maybe this will all sort itself out and you’ll have choices you didn’t even realize you had. You still have choices, because you can decide how you face this. You can choose your next move, Katie. What do you think?”
I let Diane’s words soak into my thoughts. Stay here with Linda, living my life alone, in a way. The thought scared me as much as moving to Japan, but I wanted to hug her for suggesting it. At least she was treating me like an adult, like my life wasn’t being decided by some piece of paper. Like it actually belonged to me.
