Rain

20

We managed to make our way to Tomo’s with me pedaling and him seated and slumped over my back. Nihondaira was a mountain, so we mostly coasted down, but I worked up a sweat as we cycled through Otamachi toward his house.

“This is great,” Tomo mumbled into my shoulder as I pulled up his front walkway. “Can you bike me home every day?”

I shoved him off and leaned the bike against the side of the wall around his house. “Maybe if you lose some weight,” I puffed.

“Hey,” Tomo said, flexing his arm. “This is all muscle.” But as he pulled his arm back, the bite wound pressed against his skin and he winced, dropping his arm quickly.

“Let’s get you inside,” I said. He fumbled in his pocket for the house key and I turned it in the lock, the two of us entering the warm house from the outside cold.

He stumbled toward the couch, but stopped as he looked down at the floor. He’d left a trail of ink. “I better shower,” he said.

“Can you handle it?” I asked. He was hunched over and didn’t look too steady on his feet.

He tried to grin, but it came out pained. “You better come help me.”

I turned all shades of red. “Shut up,” I stammered. I couldn’t believe he could still joke after the video he’d seen of Jun and me. Maybe between that, the fight and the info that he was descended from two kami that hated each other, he was still processing it all.

He tugged at the knot of his school-uniform tie, twisting it back and forth to loosen it from his neck. I followed him carefully as he limped toward the bathroom, in case he collapsed.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be okay,” he said, dropping the tie to the floor. “But I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

It wasn’t. Instead I said, “You went through a lot today.”

He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, his tired fingers struggling to undo them. “I bet the teachers had a fit when they saw the change room.”

It felt like ages since those threatening kanji and ink faucets at school. “I told them it was part of the prank played on you.”

“So I’ll probably only be suspended for about...oh, fifty years, then.”

“Give or take,” I said.

He still fumbled with the same button. “Kuse-yo,” he swore, pretending to laugh. “Can’t stop shaking.” His eyes blurred with moisture, the tears he was forcing back. I wanted to hold him to me tightly, to protect him from all of this.

So I made excuses for him. “You’re just tired. Here.” I reached for the button myself, slipping it neatly through the hole. He watched me intensely as I tried to force the blush off my cheeks. I’m just helping him.

You’re undressing him, Katie. But points for trying.

I moved on to the next button. “So...two kami, huh? Does that make you royalty or something?” It was a lame joke, but I was flailing. I needed to talk about it, to put it out there in the open instead of just in our own thoughts.

Tomo leaned his head back, his palms flat against the wall. “I guess it’s nice to shrug off the connection with Yomi, at least.”

I couldn’t imagine being descended from the World of Darkness. The idea had crushed Tomo, sent him spiraling out of control.

He sighed. “I’m tired and a little beat-up, but I feel better than I have in a month. Actually, I feel better than I have since you...” He trailed off.

“Since I came to Japan,” I said, my mouth dry.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Can we really be together?” I asked. I unbuttoned the last of the buttons and dropped my hands away. “It sounds like Tsukiyomi hates Amaterasu’s guts.”

“I’m not Tsukiyomi,” he said. “And you’re not Amaterasu. We’ll build our own lives.” He shrugged his shirt off and it dropped in a mound on the floor. I tried to pretend I was okay with the fact that he was half-naked, but I felt queasy and awkward, like my cheeks were on fire. I looked away.

“Katie,” he said, and the velvet of it turned my head. The scars crisscrossed down his arm, broken up by the inugami bite marks. Deep blue bruises bloomed on his tan skin, on his shoulder and below his ribs. I stared a little more intensely than I meant to.

Tomo laughed, resting his hand on the waistband of his pants. “I could keep going.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss me.

Fire ran through my veins again, sharp and raw, but this kind I didn’t mind. This kind was nice. I wanted more.

I wrapped my arms around him, his bare skin like fire under my fingertips. He winced as my hands slid across the bruises he was covered with.

“Takahashi made a mess of me,” he sighed as I accidentally pressed against another bruise.

“I think it was the fall from the sky,” I said, giving him more excuses. “In which case, it’s my fault for writing in your notebook.”

He cupped my neck with his hands, resting his forehead against mine.

“How dare you save my life?” he whispered and pressed a kiss on my jawline.

He pulled away and staggered into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I breathed out a sigh and turned my back to the door, sliding down it until I sat at the bottom. Why did I have to get so nervous around him? I could handle him flying around on inky wings and drawing sketches of me that came to life, but I couldn’t make out with him when he was shirtless? I needed serious help.

From the other side of the door I heard the sound of his zipper and him shrugging off his pants.

Other thoughts, other thoughts...

“Tomo,” I said, looking up at the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“The thing with Ju—Takahashi. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I wish I could go back and change what I did. You know that, right?”

Pause. “I know.”

“He kissed me. And I knew it was wrong. It was a huge mistake. I did pull away, but—”

“Katie,” he said, his voice smooth and velvet. “I care about you. But I can’t expect you to stay beside me. What I am is not going to change. It’s going to get worse until...until it’s over.”

I shuddered. “I know. But I want to be there, until the end.”

“I want you to be,” he said. His voice was gentle, and I knew he was pressed against the door. This was our life; always something in our way.

I heard his footsteps as he padded toward the shower and turned on the spray.

“I will,” I said quietly to myself. “I’ll find a way.”

My phone buzzed, and the sound of it made me jump. I flipped it open, the little bell on the omamori charm tinkling as the keitai snapped into place.

“Yuki,” I said with relief and hit Answer, putting the phone to my ear.

“Katie!” Yuki said. “Tan-kun and I were worried. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. My brain cycled back a few hours. She was calling because we’d bolted from the school.

“And Yuu?”

“Doing okay,” I said, leaning back. I liked the soothing sound of the shower behind me. It was nice that I was part of something so intimate, even if I was on the other side of the door. “It was a nasty prank.”

“So he didn’t do it?”

More lies, more deception. My life couldn’t be straightforward, not with Tomo. “Of course not. You saw us arrive at school this morning. Why would he do something like that?”

“I know,” Yuki said, a hint of apology in her voice. “I just heard the boys’ change room was a mess. They all think he did it, you know.”

I wanted to care, but it just didn’t seem important anymore. Ink on the chalkboards—big deal. It was the kami we had to worry about now.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” she said. “I’ll bring you my notes tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said, and then I hung up the phone. I had the best friends in the world, I really did. They worried about me, watched out for me. So did Diane.

Who did Tomo have?

Me. His dad, sort of. Ishikawa. And that was about it.

I got to my feet and wandered upstairs into Tomo’s bedroom. His blue-checked comforter was a tangled mess on the bed and he’d left a couple dark T-shirts and jeans littered across the floor. He still had all the creepy sumi-e ink drawings up, and the Renaissance paintings of angels trampling demons.

I sat down at his desk, where he’d left an open notebook and a pile of textbooks meant for the entrance exams. I wondered if he’d ever had time to study for them.

His handwriting was elegant and practiced, and you could see the flair for calligraphy in the kanji. But even then, you could see the careful control he’d written his notes with. Any kanji with the character sword in them were given blunt edges, ones that stopped short instead of trailing off in a slice of a line.

I lifted his pen, twisting it between my fingers. His room smelled faintly of his vanilla hair gel; it was nice being in here, when you avoided looking at the creepy paintings on the walls.

I pressed the pen to the paper and drew a tiny heart in the margin of his notebook. Maybe he’d notice it there later when he was studying.

I lifted the pen and felt ill suddenly, like motion sickness.

The heart flashed once with a golden shimmer, and then the pen ink trailed down the center in a jagged line, breaking the heart in two.

I stared at it, stunned. Downstairs I heard the shower shut off.

My drawing had moved. It had come to life and moved.

The ink in me had awoken when Jun ripped that drawing. I was connected to the paper Katie; like a channel between river and lake, she’d made the connection between Tomo’s ink and mine.

“Oh my god,” I whispered. Maybe it was Tomohiro’s closeness in the house that made it move, like how my doodles had come at me that day in school.

But it felt different. I felt different.

Outside a crow cawed loudly, making me think of the rush of black feathers on Tomo’s back.

I stared at the heart with its jagged break down the center. We could never be happy; we could never be together.

I wished the ink had never woken in me. I wished it would just go back to sleep.

I blinked, considering what I’d just thought.

The ink in Tomo took control sometimes, but it always subsided. Jun said one day it would get so bad that it wouldn’t reverse again. But for now, it did. It went back to sleep.

I looked at the broken heart again. Two halves. Two kami.

Tomo’s door creaked open and he stood there in a pair of track pants and a blue T-shirt, his copper hair dripping wet in odd spikes as he rubbed it with a towel.

He saw my face and his arms lowered. “Doushita?” He padded across the room to his desk, leaning over my shoulder. His skin radiated warmth from the shower, and he smelled of milky soap. “My drawing moved, Tomo.”

“Just now?”

I nodded, pointing at the broken heart with the pen. “I drew a heart, and the ink broke it in two.”

He reached over my shoulder to press his fingers against the heart. He’d left his kendo wristband off and I could see the deep gash where the kanji for sword had cut him all those years ago, the old wound the dragon had bitten open in Toro Iseki.

“Harsh,” he said, tracing the jagged break in the heart. “The ink’s cruel.”

“That’s what I thought, too. But what if it means something else?” I took a deep breath, my whole body buzzing. “Before I came to Japan, the ink in me was asleep, even past the age it should’ve awakened. And if I’d gone to Canada to live with Nan and Gramps, that would’ve been a temporary fix because the ink in you would calm down. Like, go to sleep kind of.”

Tomo’s face darkened. “So we have to be apart.”

“No,” I said. “That’s not the answer. We have to make the ink go dormant, Tomo.”

“How?”

I bit my lip. “I’m not sure. But look at this heart. Two sides. Two kami. Split them in half. You don’t have to worry about Amaterasu. She has lots of descendants and they’re living normal lives. It’s Tsukiyomi that’s the problem. You just have to put his blood to sleep.”

Tomo stared with shining eyes, his mind racing with ideas. “Like a disease,” he said. “We just have to make the Tsukiyomi cells go dormant.”

“There has to be a way, since the ink was asleep inside of me. And you always regain control when it tries to take over. It goes both ways.”

“Don’t forget Tsukiyomi and Amaterasu used to be in love,” Tomo said, hope rising in his voice. “If we can’t make it inactive, maybe we can reconcile them somehow. The potential’s there. It’s not fate, Katie. We can change it. We can fight against it, right?”

I had to believe it. The alternative was too bleak.

“Right,” I said, rising to my feet and grinning at him. It was more potential than we’d had in ages. It was a lead—it was a possible cure.

He went to wrap his arms around me, but I stepped back.

“Dirty and gross, remember?” I said, motioning to the ink and mud splattered all over my uniform. He grabbed me anyway, spinning me in a circle as I squealed in surprise. He pulled me close, his chin on my shoulder. His skin was still pink from the shower; the soapy smell was overpowering, but nice.

“We can do this,” he said. “There has to be another way.”

There had to, because I couldn’t imagine life without him.

We clung to each other in his sunlit room with the cheery bedspread and demon paintings.

The crow outside cawed again; the trees in one of the ink paintings swayed in an unseen gust of wind, which plucked the leaves off the branches into the air. The leaves tumbled out of the painting and onto the floor, shriveled blackness collecting around us in a circle on the floor.

You don’t scare me, I thought, looking at the inky pile. Not when Tomo’s at my side.

We will fight you. And we will win.

* * * * *