Storm. Amanda Sun

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 strummed 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.

      “Jun,” I breathed.

      His voice was stone. “You shouldn’t be here.”

      He was right. I could hear my voice trembling. “I know.”

      “Does Yuu know you’re here? You should stay away.” He stepped around me, resting his helmet strap on the handle of his bike.

      “What kind of greeting is that?” Ishikawa drawled. He stood and put his hands on his hips, arching his back as he stretched.

      “Ishikawa,” Jun said, stepping toward him. “Is he giving you trouble, Katie?”

      Ishikawa narrowed his eyes and pressed his index finger against Jun’s collarbone. “The only one giving her trouble is you, Takahashi.”

      I tugged on Ishikawa’s arm, trying to pull him away as he and Jun glared at each other. I accidentally pulled him off balance and he stumbled backward, then ran a hand through his bleached hair, trying to act as though he’d decided to step back on his own.

      “What are you doing here?” Jun said quietly.

      Ishikawa gave a short laugh in reply. “Please. Don’t patronize her. You know why we’re here.”

      “Jun,” I said. My throat was dry and thick, my heart pounding. “I saw on the news...about...about Hanchi.” Jun was motionless, expressionless. “Hanchi is dead, Jun.”

      He wasn’t surprised, that much I could see. At the very least he’d heard the news. “Sou ka,” he said. Is that so.

      “That’s it?” Ishikawa sneered. “You had all this talk of killing off Yakuza, you threaten to ‘make the world cry,’ and now the first Yakuza boss is dead and you say, ‘Sou ka’? What the hell is wrong with you, Takahashi?”

      “What do you want me to say?” Jun snapped. “You know more than you should. The Kami aren’t a threat, Ishikawa. They’re not weapons to be handed over to the Yakuza. They are heirs of heaven. They are protectors of Japan.” Jun turned to me, gently wrapping his fingers around my elbows. The feel of his hands sent a jolt of panic through me. “Tell me you aren’t glad Hanchi is dead, Katie. He can never hurt you again.”

      My heart lurched. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

      His icy eyes melted, just for a moment. “Don’t ask me that.”

      I could barely move my lips to speak. “This is wrong, Jun. It’s murder.”

      “What does it matter who did it? He’s dead now. You’re safe.”

      Ishikawa grabbed the collar of Jun’s jacket and shoved him away from me. Jun stumbled backward, his shoes clicking against the pavement as he regained his balance.

      Ishikawa’s white spikes flopped into his eyes as he snarled. “Bakayaro,” he spat.

      My body was ice; my heart cracked under the weight. I blinked back tears, terrified. “Jun, tell me it wasn’t you, and I’ll believe you. Tell me.”

      He said nothing, watching me with his dark eyes.

      “Tell me,” I whispered.

      His eyes never left mine. “I can’t.”

      The fear shook through me. He was crazy. I stumbled back, Ishikawa stepping in front to protect me.

      “Katie, you can’t condemn this,” Jun said, his eyes pleading. “It’s not so black-and-white.