Shadow (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

Tomohiro

The winter break faded quietly away as part of me died. The nightmares ebbed, like the tide of fear had gone out. I didn’t want to be alone again, but it was stupid of me to let things with Myu go on as long as they had.

I breathed in the fresh spring air. The pink blooms of sakura were late this year and Sunpu Park stood bare, not even any buds on the cherry trees. Everything was dead, as if I’d killed it.

I coasted my bike through the courtyard and leaped off just before the tire crashed into the racks. In the
genkan
, I kicked off my shoes and reached for my slippers. My last year at Suntaba, the last year before I could vanish.

I reached into my bag and placed my black notebook on top of my shoes. I wouldn’t need it until later anyway, when I left for cram school.

Right.
I don’t know why I lied to myself, but it was better than facing the truth of what I was doing.

“Be good,” I said quietly, rubbing the corner of the book with two fingers.

I walked to homeroom squeezing between students greeting each other. I couldn’t shake the anxiety inside me. Myu had texted almost every day during break. I’d never written back.

It had been a nice dream, but it was time to move on. There was nothing for me, only death.

Except protecting Shiori. That was something I still clung to. I couldn’t cut her off as easily. She needed me, and I needed her.

When I reached my new homeroom, 3-C, I sighed with relief that Myu wasn’t in it. Seemed like Tanaka Keiko had been moved as well.

“
Oi
, Yuuto!” called Sato from his desk. A ring of students clustered around him. Weird, because he was usually alone like me.

“Why the board meeting?” I asked as Sato smirked.

“New girl in school,” said one of the guys.

“News flash,” I said, collapsing into the desk behind Sato’s. “There’s a whole freshman year of new girls.”

Sato grinned. “Not like that. It’s a foreigner. An American.”

I looked up, tucking my bangs behind my ears. “American? Like an exchange student?”

One of the guys shook his head. “I hear she’s permanent.”

“At Suntaba?” We had the occasional exchange student but never anyone long-term.

“Now you’ve got him riled up,” Sato laughed. “I bet you have a thing for foreign girls, Yuuto. Poor Myu will have to share.” I smirked. He had no idea how far apart Myu and I had drifted. She didn’t belong in my world anymore. She never had.

“She’s probably Japanese-American,” I said. “Parents moving back or something.”

But Sato shook his head. “We saw her in the hallway this morning,” he said, running a hand through his bright white hair. He must have re-bleached it over the holidays; I didn’t remember it being so blinding. “She’s blonder than me.”

“Well you better give her your
keitai
number before someone else does,” I said.

“Please. Some of us have lives that don’t involve turning down half the school’s population, Yuuto.”

“Shut up, Sato.” I didn’t want reminders of that now. Once Myu and I broke up, the confessions might start coming again, and the attention that I didn’t want...

But what could I do? I couldn’t go back.

“So give up on the ladies for a while and focus on kendo, yeah? You know Takahashi’s going to be in the ward tournament and he’ll be tough.”

“Yeah, ’cause you’re a model
kendouka
,” I grinned. “Your
shinai
binding still unraveling?”

“Screw you,” Sato laughed.

When the bell chimed, we filed into the auditorium for the annual welcome ceremony. After three years it was getting old, so I spent most of it trying not to nod off—I’d been up early putting together my own
bentou
lunch. No way was Myu going to cook for me now, but I didn’t care. My own imperfect sweet egg was good enough, a splash of cold water in the face that I sorely needed.

The headmaster went on and on—welcoming the new students, greeting the old. The introduction of a new math teacher, the induction of the freshman class.

And then I saw her when we stood to sing the school anthem, a bob of blond hair tied back in a ponytail amidst a sea of black and brown dye jobs. The American girl. Sato noticed too when my singing died in my throat. He jabbed an elbow in my side as I stared.

I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that she was pretty, although she was that too, all curves and uncertainty as she tucked her hair behind her ears with delicate fingers. And it wasn’t even the stupid pull I felt toward her, like a spark buzzing through me and pissing me off. I didn’t want to be that stupid beast falling for a beauty, especially while I was still dating someone else. Especially when I had just resolved to stay the hell away from relationships.

I couldn’t stop staring because it was her, the girl from my nightmares. The one holding the mirror on the shores of Itsukushima, the one in the pale kimono.

Her hair wasn’t black, and her features were different. She was American, blond, but there was an unmistakable feeling that I’d seen her before. Sometimes faces aren’t quite right in dreams, but this time it wasn’t quite right while awake. There was a connection, but I didn’t understand.

What the hell was going on?

“I knew it,” Sato mumbled. “God, you are so screwed.”

I dropped my eyes as the last verse of the school anthem sounded around us.

“Whatever,” I said, joining back in with the song. He thought it was a stupid crush. If only it was that trivial.

And then the floor trembled, the notes of the song pulled from my lungs as I lurched forward. It was just a tremor, but it had caught me off guard. Sato stared at me, his head tilted to one side.

“Aren’t you overreacting?” he said as the ground shuddered beneath us. “It’s just a tiny earthquake.”

But I felt off balance as the world shook. I had that same sense of dread that always hit just before the nightmares materialized. The shadows clawed at the seams of me, ready to rip right through. I clenched my fists, willed myself to calm down. The tremor stopped.

The headmaster sighed with relief. “I think we shook the very earth with our singing,” he chuckled before introducing the next teacher.

Just a tremor. But why did it feel so personal?

I stared at the blond girl in the row below our balcony.

Why did it feel like my world had shifted?

Chapter Thirteen

Katie

The classes poured into the auditorium from all sides,
new students and senior classes. High school in Japan was split into junior and
senior schools, so our school had students for the three highest levels—grade
ten, eleven, and twelve. We all wore the same uniforms, row after row of
matching outfits. For the girls, navy skirts and white blouses with red
handkerchiefs tied around our necks, the boys in navy pants and dress shirts
with ties. The ceiling lights glared off the gold buttons on our matching navy
blazers adorned with the school crest. Like some sort of march of the penguins,
I smirked. All the same—except me, of course. I was the only blond American
girl. The only one whose name was on the list spelled with katakana, the
alphabet used for foreign words, instead of kanji.

The headmaster of the school started a welcome speech, but I
tuned out, fiddling with the long ends of my necktie and tucking the loose
strands from my ponytail behind my ears.

Like Diane when I’d first seen her at the airport, I was the
piece cut from the wrong puzzle. I felt stupid standing here. Sure, Diane had
shown the school my marks pre-Mom-crisis and gone through interviews to get me
into the school, but I wasn’t like Yuki and Tanaka. I hadn’t done an entrance
exam to get in.

I didn’t belong here.

We stood to sing the school anthem, the words on an overhead
for the freshmen’s benefit. The students around me sounded like some sort of
heavenly choir—was singing a requirement for entry, too? I faltered as I sang,
feeling the eyes of the auditorium on me. I knew I was being watched, like the
attention had lit me on fire.

My blood pulsed, and I snapped my head forward. It did feel
like I was on fire. The turbulence and the heat from the plane had returned, the
ground dipping below me.

No, I was imagining things. That was impossible—I must have
drifted off, dreaming. No one else seemed to notice the ground shifting.

But then it shook again in time with my heartbeat.

The headmaster stopped singing. Others started looking
around.

And then everything was still, and he let out a sigh. With a
smile, he waved away what had happened and invited the new math teacher to speak
while everyone applauded.

“What was that?” I whispered into Yuki’s ear. She leaned toward
me.

“Just a tiny earthquake,” she said. “What’s it called in
English—a tremor? Nothing to worry about.”

But it had shaken in rhythm with my pulse. That was definitely
something to worry about.

I looked around the room, staring at the sea of uniforms and
black hair—mostly. The auditorium was peppered with students who’d dyed their
hair blond or brown. One girl had pink highlights that had nearly grown out. I
even saw a shock of white hair in the balcony, and beside it copper. But none of
them looked concerned about the earthquake, so maybe I was overreacting.

The speeches finished and the balcony of third-years filed out
first, followed by the second-year students. When it was finally our turn, we
strode up the aisle to the exit doors. The line slowed to almost a stop.

“What’s the hold-up?” I wondered aloud.

Yuki smiled. “Look!” she said. On either side of the door,
students stood with armfuls of white flowers. Volunteers beside them plucked the
blooms one at a time from the bunch and handed them to the freshmen as they
passed. “Carnations. They’re so pretty!”

“Yeah,” I said. It was definitely something that wouldn’t
happen at my school in Albany.

I stepped forward, my turn to receive a bloom. A third-year
senior reached for the bouquet her classmate held and slid out a long stalk. Her
glittery pink and silver fingernails wrapped around the stem as she passed it to
me.

“Welcome to Suntaba,” she said. Her eyes looked puffy, like she
hadn’t slept in a week.

“Thanks,” I said. I took the flower from her hands as she
sighed, turning to take another bloom for Yuki.

“What’s her problem?” Yuki whispered as we headed down the
hallway. “Like she was at a funeral or something.”

Tanaka grinned. “Yeah, yours if she hears you! Don’t you know
who she is? Good thing my sister taught me the social ladder at this school
because for once, Yuki-chan, you’re clueless!” He grabbed her flower and took
off running.

“Hey!” she shouted, racing after him.

“No running in the halls!” snapped Suzuki-sensei, stopping them
both in their tracks. I couldn’t help it—a giggle escaped my lips as Yuki and
Tanaka made their way back, sticking their tongues out at each other.

Some things so very different, and others so much the same.

Maybe I’d be all right after all. Maybe there was a life for me
here.

Mom
,
I
know you’re here with me.
And I’m going to take this mountain one step at a
time.

My heart pulsed like the earthquake, like the turbulence on the
plane. I looked at the bloom in my hand, brushed my fingers over the soft
petals. I lifted the flower to my nose and breathed in the sweetness, feeling
like I’d been dreaming all this time.

Feeling like I was about to wake up.

Epilogue

One Last Dream

The shadows chased me as I raced along the shore, my
sandals sinking into the sand. I stumbled out of one, then the other, the curl
of a smoky claw scraping against the backs of my legs. The tide lapped against
the bare soles of my feet, the spray of salt water burning like a demon’s
tongue.

In the distance, the Torii rose like a great yawning mouth to
swallow me whole.

I burst through, the shadows slamming against the gateway with
flashes of golden lightning. Dust glittered downward and peppered the beach with
volcanic ash.

“Why do you run from yourself?” said a familiar voice, and I
twisted toward her in the sand. The girl, standing in her golden kimono, held a
mirror the size of a shield.

Blond hair spilled over her shoulders and splayed over the
silver-embroidered phoenixes on her sleeves.

“Who are you?” I said.

“You must bear the marks, Taira no Kiyomori,” she said.

“I’m not Taira. And I saw you. In my school.”

“It is what it means to be one of us.”

“Answer me,” I said. “Why were you at my school?”

She paused a moment, as she decided whether she’d tell me. “We
are not the same.”

“But she looks like you somehow. Why?”

“Because the time is at hand,” she said. “Because she has a
part to play. But there is only death ahead.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “You’re wrong about me. And I think
you’re wrong about her.”

She pressed her lips together in a thin, grim line. And then
she turned her shield with both hands, the sound of it grinding into the sand
filling my ears.

It was me in the reflection, but different somehow. A darkness
in the eyes, hollow and sleep deprived. Monstrous, alien pupils, scars bleeding
ink down my wrists. I looked cold, uninterested. Somehow less than human.

This was the part where I would wake up, where Taira would see
me and panic. But this time I was me, not Taira. I saw myself, and I was
frightened.

I reached for the sword at my side, shouting and leaping
forward as I swung.

I watched myself splinter into a thousand pieces as shards of
glass sprayed across the sand. They cut into my bare feet as I dropped the
broken sword with a thud.

The base of the mirror stood empty in her hands. No reflection,
nothing but a frame of tarnished brass.

“I will fight until the end,” I said, heaving breath into my
burning lungs.

She pulled her lips into a tight smile.

“And you will fail,” she said.

I woke to the sound of my clock ticking in the darkness. I woke
to shadow, and silence, and the uncertainty of what was to come.

* * * * *

Don't miss the moment Katie's and Tomohiro's worlds collide in
Ink
by Amanda Sun, book one of the Paper Gods series.