Rain (13 page)

“What’s the
chouzuya
for?” I asked, reaching into my book bag for my hand towel. Everyone carried them; mine was pink and blue with a big yellow star on it and some cute cartoon kids. It made me think of Tomohiro’s elephant one, and I tried to shake the thought away. He was with Shiori right now. They were having dinner.
God, I’m such an idiot. Why did I tell him to go?

“Just ritual,” Yuki shrugged, drying her hands and stuffing her towel into her bag.

“It’s a cleansing thing, isn’t it?” Tanaka said. “Purifying for the shrine or something? I don’t really know.”

That was the way a lot of things in Japan were. You just did them; you didn’t ask questions.

We wandered through the buildings, looking for Niichan. Straw ropes draped over the doorways and shrines, white paper thunderbolts hanging from the cords like jagged branches. Everywhere I looked was something sacred to the
kami.
No wonder Tomo hadn’t wanted to come here.

I peered into the
roumon
gate to see if Niichan was by the other entrance to the shrine, but all I could see were the cars zooming down the street.

I turned back to the main grounds and gasped. A dragon of gold loomed over the gate, his horns pressed against the ceiling. Above him dark swirls of plaster trailed along the red beams. They looked...they looked like ink.

“You found the
Mizunomi-ryu
” came a familiar voice, and I jumped. I looked beside me to see a smiling face.

“Niichan!” It was Yuki’s brother, the one who’d hosted us at his house on Miyajima Island at the beginning of summer. The one who’d shown me a moving painting at Itsukushima Shrine, a painting that only came alive for Kami.

“Katie,” he grinned. “Nice to see you again.” He wore a pair of dusty jeans and a loose white shirt with a green polo unbuttoned over top.
“Genki?”

“I’m doing well,” I said.

“This is one of the treasures of the Sengen Shrine,” he said, pointing up at the golden dragon. “The Mizunomi Dragon.”

“Mizunomi,” I said. “
Mizu
as in ‘water’?”

He nodded. “He was a dragon formed by koi,” he said. “They were so determined to climb a waterfall that they didn’t believe it was impossible. So they kept trying, and when one reached the top, the
kami
turned it into a dragon.”

My heart nearly stopped. The koi fighting each other that Tomo had drawn—they’d been biting each other’s tails and circling. If he’d left them, would they have turned into a dragon?

“Good thing this guy is here,” Niichan said, his voice quiet. “When the shrine burned down, this dragon supposedly came to life and splashed water all over the fire. He saved the shrine for Tokugawa. It’s not actually true, of course. Just a legend.” He had a look in his eyes, and I knew this was more than a myth. There had been Kami in this place.

“It’s not true,” I repeated, and he nodded slowly. We understood each other.

“Niichan!” Yuki shouted, and she and Tanaka came running.

“Oh, Yuki,” Niichan laughed, ruffling her hair. “Ichirou. Nice to see you again.”

“You, too, Watabe-kun,” Tanaka said.

“Please,” Niichan laughed. “I keep telling you. Call me Sousuke.”

“Here, from Mom,” Yuki said, holding out the cloth-wrapped
bentou.

He took it from her, swinging it back and forth. “Thanks. Praying for exams while you’re here?”

Yuki rolled her eyes. “Please, like I need to.”

“You need to,” Tanaka said, and Yuki smacked him.

“Just bringing you the sandwiches, and we thought Katie might like to see the shrine.”

“Anything else I should see, Niichan?” I said quietly. One look at him and I knew he’d understood what I meant.

“Yeah,” he said. “I can show you a few things.”

He led us into the main building, passing by full-size model horses, painted a milky brown and tethered to either side of their red stalls.

“They escaped during the fire,” he said. “But came back when it was safe.”

Did he mean it? Had they come alive? I thought the ink could only move drawings, but after I’d seen the
inugami
on the building growl...I didn’t know anymore. Anyway, the horses were painted—was that enough?

“Niichan, what are you saying?” Yuki said, looking embarrassed.

Niichan chuckled. “Just old stories.”

It was dark inside the main building, and I could barely make out the different urns and paintings plastering the edges of the room.

“Maintenance,” Niichan explained. “The main hall’s off-limits until they get the lights fixed.”

I looked up at the lights, and I saw what he’d brought me here to see.

A dragon exactly like the one Tomohiro had drawn was painted on the ceiling.

He had been painted in coils of serpentlike scales, his eyes never leaving me as I moved around the room. Clouds of shadow swirled around him, flecks of gold glinting inside them.

“It’s him,” I said quietly. My body shivered like ice had trickled over me.

“Who?” Tanaka said.

Crap.
Had I said it out loud?

“The dragon who saved this shrine,” I said. “It wasn’t the gold one at all, was it?”

Niichan laughed as he led us out of the building.

“Tokugawa’s hardworking servants did that. Dragons cause trouble.”

Of course, because the ink dragon wouldn’t put out a fire. He was ready to eat me when Tomo had drawn him in the field. He wasn’t exactly a do-gooder.

That’s when I realized what Niichan was telling me.

The ink dragon had started the fire. Maybe he’d knocked over some candles, maybe he’d even breathed fire. I didn’t know, but I was certain of one thing—he’d tried to kill Tokugawa, just like he’d tried to kill Tomohiro. They’d both drawn him.

I felt hopelessness then. I excused myself from the group and wandered the shrine grounds, the gravel crunching under my feet.

Generation after generation of Kami, hunted by the ink that marked them. It never stopped until it got them in the end. It would never stop until it got Tomohiro. Until it got me.

Why? It didn’t make sense. I rounded a patch of trees, following the path away from the painting of the dragon. I passed a stall filled with
omamori
,
protective charms from the shrine for every possible need—good grades, health, finances, love. The girl behind the table smiled at me, her bright red
hakama
skirt and white top making her look like a colorful
kendouka.
I waved a hand at her to tell her I wasn’t interested in buying the charms and kept walking, deep in thought.

I thought Amaterasu had been the protector of Japan. Why would she want to destroy it? Weren’t the Kami her descendants?

The trees broadened here, and there was another building, almost forgotten. An elaborate phoenix painted in rainbow colors perched on the doorway, and the nearby trees were wrapped with thick Shinto rope hanging with white paper thunderbolts.

I sat down, leaning my back against the tree. I felt so lost. Tomohiro was cursed. The Kami hadn’t found a way out in centuries. What hope did he have?

I had to stay away from him. At least that way, he’d have a long life before the ink got him.

Shit!
Why did I have to think like that? Why did it have to be so difficult? Why did I have to lose everything, too?

“Katie?” Niichan’s gentle voice came from the trees. I looked over and started to get to my feet, but he waved at me to stay where I was.

“Where are Yuki and Tanaka?” I asked.

“Wandering around the grounds looking for you,” he said. “I told them I was going to eat my sandwich. Mind if I sit?”

“Why are you telling me these stories, Niichan? I thought you didn’t want me to think about the Kami.”

Niichan frowned, sitting on the ground beside me. He rested the neatly wrapped
furoshiki
on the ground and pulled at the ties until the cloth dropped to the sides around the polished black
bentou.
“The weight of it is heavy on your face, Katie. Anyway, Yuki can’t keep her mouth closed, remember? She’s told me you’re dating a senior at your school, one who likes to sketch and gets into fights. I’m only guessing but...I think it’s related.”

“It’s too dangerous,” I said. “I know that now.”

Niichan nodded, lifting the lid from the
bentou
and placing it gently on top of the cloth. “Yuki thinks the world of you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble.”

“I don’t get it, Niichan. Why are the Kami so dangerous? Aren’t they supposed to protect Japan?”

“Whoever said that?”

I stared at him, surprised. “Isn’t that what Shinto is all about? People pray at the temple for protection and good fortune from the
kami,
right? Like, good grades, good health, stuff like that.”

“Or do they pray to appease the
kami?
Are the
kami
giving good things or withholding the bad? Do you think the ancient beings of Japan care about our modern judgment calls of what is desirable?”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“What we consider justice isn’t what justice was even a hundred years ago,” he said. “And the
kami
go much further back than that. It’s hard to understand what they want, but they were always fighting with each other. Maybe they want to protect Japan. Maybe they want it back from us. And maybe they just had so much power in them that in human hands it’s out of control.”

“The last one sounds likely,” I said. “It’s more than he can handle.” My face went pale. “I mean—”

“I already guessed,” Niichan smiled, lifting one of the sandwiches from the box. “But keep the secret better from others, okay?”

I got to my feet, walking toward the shrine. The sun was starting to set, and the glow of it caught on the phoenix feathers. “So which shrine is this?” I said, touching the red support beam with my hand.

“Otoshimioya,”
he said. “Actually, this is the shrine that has the most in common with Itsukushima where I work.”

“It doesn’t look as big as the ones back there.”

“It’s not the principle building.” Niichan took a bite from the sandwich and waited until he finished chewing. “But it’s for a daughter of Susanou, like in Miyajima.”

“That’s the
kami
of storms, right?” I said, running my hand down the beam.

He took another bite. “Yeah. Amaterasu’s brother.” He reached for another sandwich, his hand bumping the lid of the
bentou.
It clanked into the box and the sound startled me.

“Amaterasu,” I said, staring at the phoenix. Niichan grunted agreement behind me.

“They didn’t get along,” he added. “Susanou controlled storms, but he was also the ruler of
Yomi
, the World of Darkness. Kind of like Hell, I guess.”

A thought appeared in my head, slowly, the idea blurry and strange. But it sharpened as I thought about it, until I could barely contain it.

Oh my god.

What if Amaterasu wasn’t the only one with descendants?

The world spun with the thought in my head. What if there were Kami descended from Susanou? Wouldn’t they be as evil as he was? Wouldn’t they be at war with Amaterasu’s Kami?

“Niichan,” I breathed, my throat thick and parched. He looked up from his sandwiches. “Are all the Kami descended from Amaterasu? For sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course. I mean, I think so. Why?”

“What if they weren’t?”

“Katie. It’s time to step away from all this, okay?” Niichan wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, the sandwich crumbs tumbling onto his jeans. “Stay away from the boy at your school. It doesn’t matter who he’s descended from. You already know he’s dangerous. Please, if not for your sake then for Yuki’s. Just let it go.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Yuki and Tanaka appeared from around the trees.

“Katie,” Tan-kun said, waving at me. “We’ve been looking everywhere. We’re heading back to the station.”

Yuki crouched behind her brother. “Niichan, you knew we were looking for her. Why didn’t you tell us you were over here?” She smacked the back of his head with her hand.

“I-te!”
he snapped, rubbing his head. “Jeez, Yuki. I’m eating my sandwich. You want me to choke?”

I was numb, barely able to pretend everything was fine. What if Tomohiro was descended from Susanou? Maybe...maybe he really was a demon. That was why he struggled with his power, wasn’t it?

“Let’s go,” Yuki said.

Jun had drawn a glass of water and nothing had happened. He’d drawn the snakes and they hadn’t turned on him or us.

“Katie’s daydreaming,” Tanaka laughed, reaching for my wrist and pulling me along.

Jun wore that spiky bracelet, but I hadn’t seen as many scars on his arms. Ikeda had some scars, too, but Jun...the only wounds I’d seen on him were the welts where he’d carved the kanji into his skin.

Tomohiro was something else. Jun was right. He’d always been right.

We went through the torii gate and toward the station.

“You’re so quiet,” Yuki said. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” I said.

“I knew Tomo-kun should have come with us,” Tanaka laughed. “She’s been love-struck by your brother.”

“Gross!” Yuki squealed.

Tomo. I had to call him. I had to tell him.

But I couldn’t. He was with Shiori, and I was with Yuki and Tanaka. And what would I tell him?
Bad news, I’ve figured out you really are doomed. You’re descended from the
kami
ruler of Hell.

I tried to calm myself down. It was just a theory. I didn’t have any proof, except that it all made sense.

When we reached the station, Yuki and Tanaka waved goodbye. I waited for a minute, staring at the road home. Tomo would still be with Shiori, but I couldn’t keep this to myself.

I took off running, but not toward Diane’s.

It was nearly dark when I reached Katakou School. It was stupid of me to come. Jun wouldn’t still be here, would he?

I stood by the gate, unwilling to step onto school property. I’d seen the way Yuki had got on Shiori’s case. I know she’d been trying to protect me, but I didn’t want to risk a student scolding me that way.

I peered past the gate to the bike racks for the school.

Jun’s sleek black motorbike was parked beside them.

The school was still lit up for various clubs. It wasn’t unusual to have activities running so late at a Japanese high school. Anyway, it was only just past dinnertime—not that late, even if the sun was setting.

I walked across the courtyard, hoping the darkening sky would hide the color of my uniform.

I passed a group of girls carrying tennis rackets and suddenly recognized one.

“Hana?”

Hana looked up, a racket in her hand and a tennis ball in the other.

“Hey, the American girl,” she said. “Takahashi’s friend. Sorry, I can’t remember your name.”

“Katie,” I said. “Is Jun—is Takahashi around?” Which name did they really use, anyway?

“Yeah,” she said. “Prefecture tournament is this weekend. He’s drilling the younger
kendouka.
”

Hana led me to the gym, but everything was silent. She opened the door and peered in. “Practice is over, I guess.”

So I’d missed him. “But his motorbike’s out front.”

She shrugged. “Maybe he’s getting changed. You could wait for him if you want.”

“Thanks,” I said. We walked back to the courtyard, and Hana waved as she left with her Tennis Club friends. I sat on a bench beside the bike racks, watching his motorbike and waiting. I looked like some stupid girl with a crush, I knew that. I bet that’s what Hana thought, especially after I’d called him Jun, but she hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe she liked that I used his first name, the way I used hers, reminding her of her time in California. Or maybe she was just being polite.

Susanou. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Tomo wasn’t like the other Kami. He couldn’t hide his power the way they could. He was falling apart in front of me. The huge vacant eyes, the
shinai
he was willing to strike me with...it was Susanou. It had to be.

I heard footsteps and the school door slamming closed. Jun. His earring glinted in the dusk light, his blond highlights almost glowing against the darkness of the rest of him. He’d changed out of his school uniform into a pair of dark jeans and a T-shirt, a fur-lined vest overtop. The fur was a bit much, but I guess I really didn’t understand Japanese fashion. It looked kind of cool, or extravagant or something, like he was a J-Pop idol.

He approached his motorbike, throwing his book bag over the handle. That’s when he noticed me on the bench, as he hunched over his bike.

“
Bikkurishita
,”
he breathed. I’d startled him.

“Jun,” I said. The name was strange as I said it.
It’s our secret.
But calling him Takahashi would sound weirder and get me another lecture. “Sorry, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay?” he said. “Yuu—is he—”

“He’s okay,” I said. “But I needed to talk to you.”

“Of course.” He sat down beside me on the bench, a little too close, and it was like the heat of him turned my face red. I wanted to move away, but it would come across as rude. And it wasn’t like I was uncomfortable—I just felt guilty. Here I was running to Jun yet again behind Tomo’s back.

But Tomo was the reason I was here.

It was all I could do to stop my voice from wavering. “I was at Sengen Jinja today, the one near Sunpu Park. And there was this shrine for this
kami
Ohisa-somebody. I can’t remember.” He listened to me in silence, his eyes staring into mine. I wished he wouldn’t look at me like that. I turned to look at his motorbike.
Phew.
That was safer. “She was the daughter of Susanou. And I started to wonder if...if maybe...”

“You’re shaking,” Jun said, his voice gentle.

I ignored him. “So remember we talked about Imperial Kami and Samurai Kami? What if that’s not the main difference? What if not all Kami are descended from Amaterasu?”

At first his face was stone, his eyes cold and dark as he thought.

“Amaterasu is the only one the imperial family ever claimed lineage from,” he said at last.

“Yeah, but who would want to admit to being descended from Susanou? I mean, no one is going to make that announcement. And there’s no royal family without scandal, right?”

“Che,”
he swore, the way Tomohiro often did. The thought made me feel guilty. “So you think maybe Yuu is descended from Susanou?”

“Well, I mean, I’m not saying he’s evil,” I said. I felt sick to my stomach to hear Jun say it. I hoped I hadn’t given him some kind of ammo. “But maybe that’s why the ink won’t be controlled. I mean, when you drew that glass of water, nothing happened. Can I ask you something? Your arm. Do you...do you have scars like Tomo does?”

Jun shifted on the bench so he faced me. Our legs were almost touching, and I could feel the warmth of him next to the cool breeze of night. He lifted his right arm slowly, twisting it so I could see the underneath of his wrist. It was hard to see in the darkness if the skin looked normal. “Here,” he said, taking my hand. His touch sent a jolt through me. He placed my fingers near his elbow and gently traced them down to his wrist. His skin was warm, his arm strong like Tomo’s from all the kendo training. My fingers ran over the rough edges of the scars.

So he did have them.

“Most Kami have at least a few,” he said. But there were lots of them that bumped under my fingertips. Jun had had his share of accidents. “It’s been a while,” he said. “They’re not fresh the way they are for Yuu.”

“Oh,” I said. I pulled my hand out from under his grip. I was glad it was dark. I hoped he couldn’t see the deep pink in my cheeks. My heart sounded like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

“But the lack of control Yuu has, the explosive power...you could be onto something. I’d never thought of it before. Susanou...” He lifted his left arm to brush away the bangs that trailed over one eye, the spikes on his black bracelet gleaming in the starlight. “The
kami
of storms, earthquakes and Yomi, right?”

I nodded. “The World of Darkness. My friend’s brother said it translated to ‘Hell.’”

“Has Yuu ever called up any of those?”

I thought for a minute. The storm surrounding the dragon he’d drawn. The earthquakes I’d felt when I first moved to Japan. And...Hell?

“Wait,” I said. My pulse leaped and I felt sick to my stomach. “When the Yakuza tried to take Tomohiro away, the ink made this...this giant demon-face thing. It was really freaky. I didn’t see it clearly but...it scared the hell out of Ishikawa.”

“There’s your answer,” Jun said. “My god. He’s not a normal Kami.”

My heart ached. He really was the demon he’d feared. It was all worse than he even realized. I felt tears blur in the corners of my eyes. “What can we do?”

“There’s got to be a way to stabilize his power. In the meantime, the best we have is for you to stay away from him. Don’t do anything to provoke the ink.”

I nodded. He’d started drawing again, so that would help. I’d find ways to be busy, so that he wouldn’t react too strongly to me pulling away. It was horrible, but it had to happen.

“Katie,” Jun said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’re going to help him.”

“I know,” I said. “Thank you.”

Jun nodded. “I’ll find out what I can, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Katie, you look terrified. Let me take you home and you can get some rest.”

“It’s just...it’s a lot to take in,” I said. I could barely hold back the tears. I blinked, and one streamed down my cheek.

It was like being told to stay away from your own soul. How could I?

“Hey,” Jun said. His fingers brushed my cheek as he wiped the tear away. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

I nodded, hoping I could hold the tears back until later.

He took my fingers gently and pulled me from the bench. He rested my hand on the motorbike with his own fingers on top, lingering just a moment too long before he went back to the
genkan
to get his extra helmet.

I felt so alone as I waited in the dark. Couldn’t he just hurry up so I could go home and cry my eyes out?

When he came back, he strapped the helmet on me and I straddled the bike behind him. We sped toward Shizuoka Station together and then past. I shouted my address at him and he drove me all the way home. I held on to him the whole time, like he could help me make sense of things. The wind whipped my tears away, numbing the pain.

On the steps of the mansion, I turned back to him. “Thanks,” I said, my voice like a ghost.

“I’m here for you, okay?” he said.
“
Tomodachi kara
.”

Because we’re friends.

“Yeah,” I said.
“Tomodachi kara.”

He grinned, and then he zoomed down the street, and there was nothing left around me but darkness.

* * *

“Katie, is that you?” Diane yelled from the living room. I pulled the door closed behind me and kicked off my school shoes. She appeared in the hallway, her face crumpling with concern. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are puffy.”

“I’m okay.”

“It’s that Yoshida boy, isn’t it?”

“Yuu, Diane, not Yoshida. And no.”

Diane smiled. “You’re an awful liar, Katie. Listen, I’ve had my share of boy trouble. I know.”

The tears spilled over; I couldn’t stop them.

“Oh, hon,” she said and pulled me into a tight hug. She smelled of strong perfume, but I didn’t even care. I held on to her, too. “What’s he done? I’ll snap him in two.”

I pulled back and shook my head. “It’s not his fault,” I said. “It’s just not going to work.”

Diane sighed and nodded. She kept her arm tightly around me and led me to the living room. We sat down on the edge of the ugly purple couch, but that just made me think about how Tomo and I had held on to each other that night after the Yakuza, how we’d fallen asleep on the tiny couch clutching each other. I cried harder.

“It’ll get easier,” Diane said, patting my back. “These cultural differences...they’re not as big as they seem.”