by Carrie Asai
I froze. Marcus was standing about twenty feet down the platform, holding Cheryl in front of him, a knife to her throat. I looked wildly around—had that voice actually come from him?
“Hey, Heaven,” shouted Marcus in perfect Japanese. “Your mother says hello.” He stepped slowly toward me, still holding Cheryl in front of him like a shield.
I gasped. The first thing I thought was,It was him, and cursed myself for not obeying my intuition about Marcus. I’d known from the get-go that something was off about him, but I’d chosen to believe that he was harmless, just another creep. When would I ever learn my lesson? It wasn’t the first time I’d ignored all the signs of danger that the samurai part of me was learning to sense—but I vowed then and there it would be the last.If I get us out of this alive, I thought,I will never deceive myself again.
Then I thought,What did he say about my mother?
“What are you talking about?” I yelled.
“Didn’t you hear me?” shouted Marcus, in English this time. “I said Mieko says hello.”
“Usotsuki,”I hissed. Liar. But was he? How did he know Mieko’s name? How had he managed to master such perfect Japanese? I’d been speaking English since I was a kid, and even I still had a slight accent. Anddid he really know Mieko? My heart sank. I had a feeling that the next few minutes would change everything.
Cheryl whimpered, and Marcus covered her mouth.
“Let her go!” I yelled.
Marcus looked at me, then down at Cheryl. “Okay,” he said, and hurled her away from him toward the wall. Cheryl slammed against it and slipped to the ground. Two of Marcus’s banger friends I recognized from the club came out from behind him, and one of them grabbed Cheryl and pulled her back to her feet. She looked only half conscious and confused.
“Heaven, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” she shrieked. Her captor clamped his hand down on her mouth and laughed.
“She really didn’t,” said Marcus, all traces of the smooth player now gone from his demeanor. His voice was filled with hatred. “But now she does.”
I heard a noise behind me, and I stepped back. Two more thugs. I backed toward the wall, trying to keep my vision on both pairs of men. As far as I could tell, Marcus was the only one who was armed. But I wasn’t going to count on it. I felt scattered and lost, unable to formulate an attack. Could Mieko really be behind all this? Was that why she’d wanted my address? I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Cheryl had been used by Marcus just to get to me. I was responsible for her being with him. It was all my fault.
Marcus and his men were closing in. I had only one choice—to take his knife away from him. I took a giant leap toward Marcus and threw myself into the air, launching a spinning kick at the hand that held the knife. I connected well and heard the knife clatter to the tile floor. But I misjudged my landing and ended up almost right at their feet. I sensed the other two coming from behind, and I somersaulted toward the edge of the platform, jumping to my feet just before going over. I was in a precarious spot—the worst place to be.
I dove forward onto the ground, flipped over, then clamped my legs around one of the meatiest attacker’s ankles and knocked him to the floor with one quick wrench. Another roll and I was safely back from the edge of the platform. I arched my back and flipped myself onto both feet, assuming the ready position. I was in the zone. I whipped the switchblade out of my pocket and flicked it open.
Bring it on.
For the next minute there was no Heaven, no Cheryl, no fear, and no world outside the world of my own body, which moved as if on autopilot. I saw the attacks coming and dodged them. I grabbed an arm as it came toward me and pulled, wringing the wrist and sending its owner sprawling to the floor. I crouched down and sideswiped a leg, hit someone’s neck with the side of my hand, kicked and punched and hurtled and flew andfought. These guys weren’t fighters, but they were big and sturdy—more like tanks. I used the knife for a few opportune slashes, but I knew better than to rely on it completely. It was a good deterrent but little more. I was on fire.I will put them down, I told myself.I will vanquish my enemy.
“Momma didn’t tell me her little girl could fight like this,” Marcus hissed.
At that I crumbled. Marcus might as well have clobbered me on the head. Mieko, my adoptive mother, the only member of my family who was still in a position to help me,had betrayed me. And if she had sold me out, then did that mean she had abandoned Ohiko, too? Did it mean that Konishi was even now in danger from those who were closest to him? Did she have anything to do with his extended coma? Or was Konishi guilty after all, as I had believed at the start, when I saw him watch the ninja who killed Ohiko and do nothing?
I wanted to scream, to let out a howl of pain.This can’t be happening, I thought,Oh, please, just let this not be happening. It was the worst moment I’d had since the night of the wedding. The knowledge that Mieko was out to harm me, in whatever way, for whatever reason, killed another little part of me. It seemed to me I could feel that last little bit of innocence slide away. And I wanted it back.
“I want it back!” I screamed, stumbling forward. Marcus looked confused for a second. I fought through my anger and delivered three hard punches to the solar plexus of the nearest banger, stupidly leaving my back open to attack. It was no use. My concentration was shot.
As soon as I had that realization, a huge force barreled down on me from behind. Before I could react, my arms were pinned down at my sides, and I was lifted off the ground.
“If you had just played nice the other night at the club, you could have made my joba lot easier. But you had to go flirt with your little dance boy.” Marcus’s stale breath made me gag. I whipped my head back, hoping to smash Marcus in the nose with the back of my skull, but he was too quick for me. Marcus squeezed my wrist so hard, I felt like my bones were about to snap, and the switchblade tumbled from my grasp.
“Now, now.” He laughed. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I kicked as hard as I could, but Marcus’s arms were like a vise. One of the other goons came over and grabbed my legs. They walked me to the edge of the platform.
“One,” the goon said, grinning.
“Two,” Marcus hissed, gloating.
“Three!” they yelled together, and dumped me over the edge.
Somehow I landed on my back right on top of one of the rails. The wind rushed out of my lungs with a whoosh and I rolled into the middle of the track, gasping at the searing pain that coursed through my body. I could hear their laughter and Cheryl’s screams as if from far, far, away.
Air, air, air.I knew it would come back eventually, but it was hard not to panic. After what seemed like an eternity, I gobbled down a first breath with a rush and hauled myself onto my knees. Being without breath was the worst feeling in the world and one I seemed to be having a lot lately. When I looked up, I saw that Marcus and two of his cohorts were standing on the platform’s edge, looking down at me, knives gleaming in their hands. Marcus held two—and one of them was mine.
I’d let my weapon fall into the hands of the enemy. Big mistake.
That’s when I felt the ground tremble.
Marcus grinned.
A train was coming.
I staggered to my feet in time to see the bright pinpoint of light swelling into view in the dark tunnel. My back ached, and my head felt like it was about to explode.Why is the train coming? The subway is closed! In another second I had my answer—it was a maintenance train, a sort of flatbed truck of the rails, and it wasn’t slowing down.
Marcus and his gang were blocking my only escape. I looked at them and then at the approaching train, whose bright orange front I could now see barreling toward me. The driver honked, and the sound reverberated through the station at a deafening volume. It felt like the whole world was shaking.
Marcus threw back his head and laughed, and I thought,Not this way. The first samurai lesson I’d learned was to accept death—and I was ready to die.
Really, I was. But not without a fight. The train loomed closer, the noise grew louder, and the last thing I registered was the bobbing hard hats of the two subway workers who rode the train and who were gesturing wildly at me to clear the tracks.
And then…it all faded away. Just like that. The train seemed to shrink into itself until all that was left was a throbbing globe of light. A second globe floated where Marcus had stood at the edge of the platform. And the third globe rose straight out of my body, seemed to pour right out of my chest like those soap bubbles children blow through tiny plastic hoops—it hovered right in front of my eyes. As I watched, the three globes came together in front of me in one glimmering, shimmering, gleaming sphere. The sounds of the train, of the station, of Marcus’s laughter—they all faded away. I had found my peace.
I bent my knees and hurled myself toward the sharp concrete edge of the platform. My fingers clamped down on the edge, and I channeled every iota of strength I had into pushing my body up into a headstand. In just one second I was clear of the tracks and without a moment to spare. A warm burst of air blew through the station, and a fraction of a moment later the train was rumbling by like some sort of fire-breathing dragon. I caught an upside-down glimpse of it just before I let the propulsion of my jump flip me all the way over back onto my feet. Without losing my momentum, I leaned back and delivered a kick to the chin of the nearest goon. His head snapped back. Another kick, this time from the left, and his knife fell down onto the tracks.
I dove behind them and jumped to my feet, planting another kick right in the lower back of the banger in the middle. He plowed into the train as it sped by and bounced back onto the platform. I caught a glimpse of his bloodied face as he struggled to his knees.
I knew I had to get rid of their weapons. It was my only chance. Marcus took a step back, and I ignored him while I took care of Heavy Number 3, who lunged toward me. I grabbed his hand and snapped his wrist with one crack, holding his limp arm in front of me as I spun into his grasp—a vicious tango. I heaved his damaged arm over my shoulder, delivered two sharp punches to his nose with the back of my hand, and flipped him over onto his back. He went down hard, but he went down.
I panted, looking around for Marcus—there. He approached me slowly, and I ignored the pain that coursed through my hands, my back, my legs as I prepared to take him down. The globe of light that had led me back into action was fading now. I knew I had to act quickly, or I’d be too spent to take Marcus down.
And I really, really wanted to take him down.
“Heaveeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnn!” Cheryl screeched. At the same moment I registered a dark shape running down the platform toward me in my peripheral vision. Marcus turned his head.The fourth thug, I thought.There were four of them.
I took two steps toward Marcus, hoping to finish him off before the fourth man got there, but suddenly the black shape was upon us.
Marcus crumpled to the floor.
Hiro. He’d flown across the platform like Jet Li—I would never have believed someone could travel so far in the air and still get so much force out of a kick.
Hiro landed beside Marcus just as he fell and delivered a quick chop to the back of his neck, finishing him. Marcus was down for the count.
We looked at each other. And that look seemed to say it all.
I stood over Marcus, hatred coursing through my body. I kicked him as hard as I could in the kidneys; he groaned, and lay still. I leaned over him, and whispered, “That’s what you get for hitting a girl, you piece of crap.”
“Heaven,” Hiro said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “that’s enough.”
“Cheryl,” I whispered hoarsely, looking around. She was being dragged toward the station steps, this time by Marcus’s little henchman. Hiro and I sprinted over just in time to see Cheryl get in a kick.Good for her, I thought. Her captor doubled over, and Hiro went in to finish the job. I grabbed Cheryl and pulled her out of harm’s way, then crouched at a safe distance in case Hiro needed backup. He didn’t.
“Heaven, are you okay?” Hiro cupped my face in his hand, and the sweetness of his touch brought back the truth of how much I’d missed him.
“Yes. No. Yes.” I closed my eyes for a moment, giving myself up to those two cool hands.
“You’re going to have a terrible black eye,” he said, running his hand lightly over my cheekbone.
“How did you find us?” I asked.
“Well, when you said you gave me the address, I figured that you were headed toward Union Station. And when I ran over here, I saw the sweatshirt—and heard the commotion.”
I shook my head. “I knew you would,” I said.
“Heaven?” Cheryl reached out from where she sat huddled behind me and tugged on the back of my shirt like a little kid. Her voice quavered.
I turned around and pulled her into a bear hug.
“I’m so sorry,” Cheryl said, “Heaven, I really didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t,” I said, “and I’m sorry, too.”
“For what? I’m the jerk in this scenario.” Cheryl wiped her eyes.
“I’ll explain later,” I said, and gave her another little squeeze. When I turned back to Hiro, his eyes were shining.
“We have to get out of here,” he said.
“That’s an understatement,” I answered. I stood up, fighting to keep my legs from trembling. I offered Cheryl my hand, but when she stood up, a grimace of pain crossed her face.
“What is it?” I asked, grabbing her under the shoulders as she tottered.
“My ankle,” she breathed, “I think I sprained it.”
Hiro knelt down and eased off Cheryl’s stiletto boot. She winced as he prodded her ankle. It was twice its normal size.
“Definitely sprained,” Hiro said. “Come on—we’ve got to get you to an ice bag.” Cheryl smiled wanly. We draped her arms around our shoulders and helped her up the stairs. I had a feeling that was as close to riding the L.A. metro as I was ever going to get. And that was just fine by me.
14
“I swear I had no idea, Heaven,” Cheryl gasped, hopping between Hiro and me on her good leg. Hiro and I half supported, half carried her to the taxi stand in front of Union Station. “I really didn’t think Marcus wanted to hurt you.”
“It’s okay, Cheryl,” I soothed, “don’t be silly. I didn’t know, either.”
“No, but you tried to warn me about him. And you were right—I should have thought twice about dating someone like that.”
“Forget it,” I said. “Please believe me. I’m not mad at you.” Anger was the farthest thing from my mind. I felt more like someone had just run my body through a washing machine. I was ready to sleep for a month.
“I just feel sostupid, ” Cheryl said, her voice trembling. “And I’ve been such a bitch to you over the last week.”
I stopped short and turned Cheryl toward me. “Stop it, okay? I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“I really want to make it up to you,” Cheryl said, wiping her eyes.
“Great. You can make me dinner every night this week. How’s that?”
Cheryl smiled a little. “If that’s what you want…”
“Guys, come on,” Hiro prodded. “We’ve got to get Cheryl home immediately.”
“Oh, crap,” I said as we hobbled the last few feet to the taxis. “I forgot my bag at the club.”
“Can’t you pick it up tomorrow?” Hiro asked.
“I really can’t. Half the stuff I own is in that bag—and besides, what if Marcus and his friends go back there looking for me?”
Cheryl drew in her breath quickly, and I squeezed her shoulder. “We’re almost there,” I said, “hang on.”
“It’s not that—” Cheryl said.
“You’re right. It won’t be safe,” Hiro interrupted, his brow furrowed.
I shifted my hold on Cheryl. “What’s the big deal? I’ll be in and out in one second. I—”
“I can’t go there,” Cheryl chimed in. “I don’t mean
to be a pain, but I think some of Marcus’s friends might still be there. Please.”
“You can just wait in the car,” I said. “They won’t even know you’re there.”
“No, she’s right,” Hiro said, “If they see you or Cheryl, they’re going to wonder what went wrong. And who knows how many connections he has at that club? Besides, Cheryl needs to get ice on that ankleimmediately. ”
Cheryl nodded and added, “It’s not safe, Heaven. Marcus knowseverybody. ”
I sighed. My brain was too tired to concentrate on the details of this tiny logistical problem after all that had happened. My moment of clarity felt long gone. I was paralyzed by indecision.
“Hiro,” I said weakly, “just please do whatever you think best. But I need to get that bag.”
“Do you think you can make it home on your own if we put you in a cab?” Hiro asked Cheryl, bending over to take another look at her swollen ankle.
Cheryl nodded gamely. “Of course. It’s only a few steps to the door. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. I felt bad leaving her to fend for herself, but it seemed like the only reasonable way to get us all where we needed to be. Hiro went over to one of the cabs and leaned in the window to talk to the driver.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Cheryl said. “I’m not atotal wimp, you know.”
“I know. You got in a few good hits back there.”
Cheryl smiled. “I did, didn’t I? I mean, nothing compared to your Michelle YeohSupercop action…you know that scene where she’s riding on top of the car and—”
“Ha!” I interrupted her. I was no Michelle Yeoh, and I knew it. “I wish. I suppose you think Hiro looks like Jackie Chan?”
Cheryl wrinkled her nose. “Uh-uh. He’sserious —more like Johnny Depp meets Bruce Lee.” Cheryl lowered her voice. “Heaven—he’sreally hot.”
“Tell me about it,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks growing warm. “Bruce Lee wasn’t Japanese, though,” I teased.
