Storm

by Amanda Sun

  No. It can’t be.

  “Abunai,” Jun warned. “Look.” I heard the sound of sand shifting under paws. I looked up to four pairs of glinting eyes, four mouths filled with sharp and angry teeth. Inugami had advanced while I was looking away; they’d found us. They growled and crouched low to the ground, ready to spring, ready to destroy us all.

  I reached for Tomo, stroked my hand through the copper spikes of his bangs, the ink sticking to my fingertips.

  This was the end of everything. I closed my eyes, unwilling to see any more.

  The inugami pounced.

  * * *

  I screamed into the darkness of my room, so disoriented that I barely heard the slam of my door sliding into the wall as Diane stumbled in and threw her arms around me.

  “It’s okay, hon, it’s okay,” she soothed as my scream turned into sobs. My arms burned like fire; I could still feel the wolf teeth sinking into my flesh, like I’d been torn to pieces. “It was just a dream,” she said, smoothing my hair as I tried to calm down. “It’s not real.”

  But it had felt more real than anything I’d dreamed before. Were these the kind of nightmares Kami had? Did Tomo suffer with these every night?

  I gasped in air, trying to focus on Diane so the room would stop spinning.

  “Do you hear me, Katie? You’re safe. You’re okay.”

  I nodded, wanting to believe her. My heart pounded so hard against my chest it ached. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, but Diane reached for my lamp and clicked it on, banishing the gray shores of the dream to the corners of my mind.

  “Thank you,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

  Diane frowned, her lips pursed together, her hair a disheveled mop on her head. “Was it about your mom?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I wanted to forget everything. The sound of the lapping waves, the sharp grains of sand digging into my knees. The smell of inugami ripping into flesh...

  “It’s probably the stress from all this school nonsense. Getting suspended when they don’t have proof he did it.” She shook her head. “They just want someone to blame.”

  I smiled a little. If only it was just that. Diane was always on my side, no matter what. I was so glad to have her here with me.

  “You must think I made a bad choice, but he’s not like that,” I said. “He’s not like that at all.”

  “Well, you need to bring him here so I can meet him for myself, okay?”

  I wrapped my arms around her tightly and she took a short breath. I’d startled her. “You can stay home today if you want,” she said. “No need to face school right away after that.”

  “That’s okay. I think I’ll get up.” I didn’t want to risk going back to that dream, that world drowned in kami tears.

  Diane stroked my hair for a bit and nodded. “I’ll start on breakfast,” she said. “Come on out when you’re ready.”

  She slid my door shut, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed, pressing my feet against the cool tatami floor.

  It had seemed so real. The mirror has seen it, Amaterasu said. Did she mean it would happen, no matter what?

  That ancient sword that had lain at Jun’s side in the grass, the blade covered in ink. Did that mean Jun would... Would he kill Tomo?

  Had he killed Hanchi?

  I padded across the cold tatami and opened the drawer of my dresser, pulling out a pair of dark kneesocks and throwing them on the bed.

  I didn’t want the ink to dictate my life. I wanted us to choose for ourselves. But were we really free to choose? Tomo had always said he didn’t have a choice.

  It was just a dream, anyway. A frightening one, but nothing more.

  I grabbed my navy uniform skirt and slid the drawer shut with a thud.

  I hesitated, the dream still living vividly in the corners of my mind.

  Amaterasu had said Tsukiyomi died long ago. That must mean there was a way to stop him. He had been stopped before.

  I looked at my fingers, remembering the slick feel of the ink spreading through Tomo’s hair, pooling on his lifeless body...

  I had to figure it out. I was running out of time.

  * * *

  I knew Tomo wouldn’t be at school, but it didn’t stop me from scanning all the students as they entered the front gates. They entered in groups, laughing and chatting through the chill of the crisp autumn morning. I tugged on the end of my fuzzy plaid scarf, my breath turning to fog in the air. It wasn’t like Tomo and I had any classes together, but knowing that he was at home, that he wasn’t welcome at school, made the crowded space seem empty.

  “Katie!”

  I turned, and saw Yuki darting toward me, clutching her book bag to her black wool coat. She pressed the bag against my stomach and I folded my hands around the handles without asking. Hands free, she grinned and leaned over, tugging at the kneesock that had coiled around her ankle on the way to school.

  “I’m glad to see you here,” she said, straightening again. “I thought you might get suspended!”

  I handed back her bag and she smiled. Our shoes crunched the momiji leaves that had fallen off the courtyard trees.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pressing the tips of my fingers together. “I should’ve called you to let you know how it went.”

  She waved her hand back and forth and pursed her lips. “I know you’ve been busy,” she said. Truthfully, it wasn’t that. It was that I had so much on my mind I’d become forgetful about the people that mattered.

  “I am really sorry,” I said, and her smile brightened. “I didn’t get in much trouble, which is fair because I didn’t do anything.”

  “But Yuu-senpai,” she said. “I don’t see him here.”

  “Ohayo!” Tanaka pressed his face between ours suddenly, and we jumped back, Yuki screaming as my book bag dropped to the ground.

  Yuki sighed. “Tan-kun, you can’t go around terrorizing people on a Monday morning.”

  “I’m only terrorizing my favorite people.” He grinned. Yuki shrunk into the coils of her scarf and looked away, her cheeks blazing.

  I reached down for my book bag but someone else grabbed it before I could.

  “Greene,” Ishikawa slurred. He scratched the back of his bleached-white hair with a hand, the other lazily extending my leather bag to me. “Just the person I wanted to see.”

  “Ohayo,” I said, rolling my eyes. Morning. But part of me felt just a little relieved. If I couldn’t see Tomo, at least I could see his best friend. Ishikawa was in on the Kami secret now, and as long as he stayed away from the Yakuza for good, maybe he could be someone we could rely on.

  His eyes gleamed. “It’s only my second week back. Did you miss me?”

  “Not sure,” I said, pulling open the door to the school genkan. We squeezed past the dozens of students placing their outdoor shoes in the stacked cubbies. “Maybe if you go away again I can let you know.”

  “Funny,” Ishikawa said. “But I won’t go away until you tell me what you’ve done with Yuuto. I called him five times yesterday, and he didn’t answer.”

  “Five times?” Yuki said.

  I swore Ishikawa’s cheeks tinged pink as he offered her a sour smirk. “So? I worry when my sparring partner doesn’t show up for practice. Especially after a nasty prank has been played on him.” His eyes caught mine, and I knew what he was really asking. Was the ink his fault? What had happened with Jun? But it wasn’t safe to talk about it here.

  “He’s been suspended,” I said. “For a month.”

  Ishikawa’s eyes widened. “Ee”? He reached down and pulled a shoe off, even though the Third Year cubbies were on the other side of the room. “A month? Do you know how out of shape that shrimp is going to get in a month? He’ll lose the nationals!”
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  “Suntaba’s never placed in the nationals,” Tanaka said. He tapped his toes against the floor to fit on his school slippers. “That’s nothing new.”

  “Yeah, but this is Yuuto we’re talking about,” Ishikawa said. “I want to see him beat Takahashi to a pulp.” But he kept looking at me, and I knew he wasn’t talking about kendo.

  “You should be careful, too, Ishikawa-senpai,” Yuki said, pulling on the end of her pink scarf until it tumbled down from her neck into her waiting hand. “I heard you almost got suspended for your injury this summer and the fight outside the kendo match.”

  “That’s none of your business, First Year,” he sneered, and looked at me. “Do I even know this kouhai?” he asked, hooking a thumb toward her.

  “She’s my best friend,” I said, “and she’s right. You’re treading a fine line yourself.”

  “Maa, whatever,” he said, running a hand through the white spikes of his hair. “I don’t need to be lectured by juniors.”

  The school bell chimed, and Tanaka and Yuki headed down the hallway toward our class. I turned to follow them, but felt Ishikawa’s warm fingers tug on my sleeve.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, his voice a hot whisper against my neck, his eyes deep brown and gleaming. “Is Yuuto okay?”

  I hesitated. Was he? The nightmare flashed through my mind, and then thoughts of what had happened a few days earlier—fighting Jun in the sky with a rain of ink falling, learning he was linked to Tsukiyomi, that Jun was out for vengeance. I pressed my tongue to my lips, the knowledge of it swirling together in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know.”

  “Let me know what I can do.”

  “Hanchi’s dead,” I said.

  He looked surprised that I knew, his fingers stiff for a moment before they relaxed their grip. “Yeah.”

  My voice was barely there. “I’m scared it was Jun.” I’m scared Tomo is next. I didn’t say it, but Ishikawa looked like he knew, like he was thinking the same thing. His other hand slipped into his blazer pocket. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring his switchblade to school, would he? But this was Ishikawa, after all. He would be stupid enough.

  “Meet you here after class,” he said, and then he was gone down the hallway, and there was nothing for me to do but get to my homeroom and start the school day. I slid in the door just before the class rose to bow to Suzuki-sensei, my thoughts whirling.

  How could I stop Jun, if it was him? And how could I stop Tomo if Tsukiyomi headed down the same destructive path that Susanou was leading Jun?

  My phone buzzed in my bag, startling me out of my thoughts. When Suzuki-san turned to write on the board, I smuggled the phone up and behind my textbook.

  Still in my pajamas. I think I got the better deal.—Tomo

  I grinned and slid the phone back into my bag. With all the darkness closing in around us, I was glad to see Tomo still shining.

  * * *

  Ishikawa was slumped on the floor, one leg bent with his arm draped over it, the other leg stretched into the hallway, forcing students to step carefully around him. The spikes of his hair were pressed flat against the wall, his eyes closed.

  I stepped forward, kicking at the calf of his outstretched leg. “Rude,” I said, and he turned his head to look at me. “You’re tripping everyone up.”

  He grinned, his teeth as white as his hair, and rose to his feet. “Your fault, Greene. If you’d gotten here sooner, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep waiting.”

  “How’d I get stuck hanging out with you, anyway?”

  He smirked, sliding open the door to the genkan so we could put on our shoes and coats. “That would be Yuuto’s fault. As always, he’s the source of all my problems.” He zipped up his dark green coat, the dark fur trim around the collar looking a little ridiculous around his pale face and hair. “What?” he asked, and I realized I was staring.

  “You look like a temaki roll,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha. Green coat, white hair, looks like sushi. Let’s move.” He pushed open the door to the courtyard and a gust of cold air swirled around us. He didn’t have on the standard school loafers, but wore shiny black shoes that were slightly pointed at the toes. “So,” he said, “fill me in.”

  I walked alongside and told him everything. I figured it didn’t matter how much he knew. He wasn’t the enemy anymore; no matter what, he was on Tomo’s side. So I told him about the fight with Jun on Mount Kano, about the fact that Tomo was linked to two kami, Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi—the sun and the moon, lovers turned enemies. I told him about Jun and how he’d killed his own father by drawing with hatred, and that I thought the same thing had happened to Hanchi.

  He stopped on the top stair of the Shizuoka Station tunnels. “Well, fuck,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  He turned on his heel and headed north. I had to hurry to keep up with his wide strides. “Wait, where are you going?”

  “We don’t have enough information,” Ishikawa said. “If Takahashi is involved with Hanchi, things are going to get messy, and I need to know.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “Wait, you’re not going to sic the Yakuza on Jun’s Kami cult out of revenge, are you? You’ll start a war.”

  He shook his head, his cheeks pink from the autumn cold. “If it’s true he killed Hanchi, Takahashi’s the one who started it, not me. And you forget that I’m not exactly on good terms with them right now. They’d just as likely pound me into the ground as trust me. They’d think I was heading a sting operation or something. But we need to know if it was Takahashi, because if it was, then we have a shit storm to prepare for.”

  “So you’re not on the Yakuza’s side?”

  “I’m on Yuuto’s side, Greene.” His voice was soft, vulnerable, and I had to strain to hear him through the wind. “I always have been. Ikuze. Let’s go.”

  I wanted to remind him how he’d put all our lives in danger by involving the Yakuza in Tomo’s secret. I wanted to remind him of the anger I’d seen in his eyes, the hatred there. But he looked so sincere now that instead I found myself wondering. Had he really thought his actions were for the best all along?

  We walked north toward Katakou School, Sunpu Park on our left. Half of the leaves lay in piles at the bases of the trees, but the others clung to the branches, not yet ready to let go, hanging on to what little warmth the autumn held. The wind stung my cheeks and I readjusted my scarf to try and cover them. We were going to see Jun. What would he say? I could hear Tomo warning me in my mind. Go back. Don’t confront him. It isn’t safe. But Ishikawa was on a mission, and it would be worse if I wasn’t there to temper whatever stupid thing he ended up saying. And, anyway, I wanted to know. I couldn’t stand not knowing what Jun was thinking, or what kind of threat we had to fear from him.

  We approached the gates of Katakou and Ishikawa walked through without hesitation. Crowds of students heading home stared as he stormed into their courtyard, but none of them confronted us. Maybe they remembered how he’d pulled a knife outside the kendo match at their school, how he and Tomo had been yanked into police cars with the two goons who’d picked the fight in the first place.

  “Oi,” Ishikawa grunted at one of the students, who flinched. “Which homeroom is Takahashi Jun’s?”

  “I... I don’t know,” the boy stammered, speeding toward the gate and avoiding further eye contact with us.

  “Don’t scare the wildlife,” I said. “He’s probably either in the gym or the music room.”

  “Music room?” Ishikawa said, squinting as he looked up at the six floors of Katakou School.

  “He plays cello,” I explained.

  “When he’s not murdering people.”

  My stomach twisted. “I really hope that’s not true.”

  Ishikawa walked back to the school entrance and strumme
d his fingers over the iron gates. “It’s already true,” he said. “He’s done it once before.”

  It had been an accident, though. He hadn’t really wanted something to happen to his father. It was another part of the curse he and Tomo had to live with. Their actions could spiral out of control in ways they couldn’t imagine.

  I spotted Jun’s motorbike parked near the bike racks, and motioned at Ishikawa. “We can wait here. That’s his bike.”

  “Let’s just go in,” Ishikawa said, but he slumped onto the bench where I’d once waited for Jun’s help. “I want answers.”

  I sat beside him, wrapping my hands around the edge of the seat. “Yeah, but do you really want to question him in front of the music club? In fact, this whole thing is a terrible idea.” Tomo had warned me to stay away from Jun. Even I knew this was stupid. We were putting ourselves at risk by confronting him. He could be capable of anything.

  “You’re right,” Ishikawa said, tilting his head back to look at the sky. “But leaving him alone is worse. He needs to know that we know.”

  “Because when you confronted Tomo about joining the Yakuza that ended so well.”

  “Uru-se na,” Ishikawa droned at me, shaking his hair from side to side and inspecting his fingernails. “You annoy me, Greene.”

  “Likewise, Maki Roll.”

  We sat for a few minutes in silence, watching the stragglers from the school as they got out of after-school activities and hurried home. The sun had started to set, the nights getting shorter as fall dragged on and winter drew nearer.

  I got to my feet and paced for a while in front of the bench.

  “You’re making me dizzy,” Ishikawa said, closing his eyes.

  It was like my whole body was buzzing; I couldn’t focus. “This is bad. We should go.”

  A voice sounded from behind me. “Go where?”

  Ishikawa opened his eyes as I spun around. Jun stood so close he blocked the wind gusting around me. He wore a dark coat over his school blazer, his motorbike helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes, forever cold, were unreadable as he looked down at me.