Amanda Sun - Rain

I nearly dropped my fork.

“Just wondered if everything was okay with his eyes, that’s all,” she mumbled. “Your bowl’s empty. Want more?”

“Please,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.

I swear my hand was shaking when I passed her the bowl.

I waited outside the station, leaning against the wall beside a buzzing vending machine. The summer heat was lingering into September, but I’d pulled on a light sweater just in case. Tomohiro had rescheduled our mystery date, and I couldn’t be sure where we were going. Just trust me, he’d said, to which I’d reminded him about the last “date,” which had been an elaborate plan to push me away before the Yakuza had hunted him down. He’d laughed, which hadn’t left me feeling reassured.

A moment later he sailed around the corner on his bike, heading way too fast toward the racks. At the last minute he leaped off his bike and the wheel crashed against the bar with a loud echo.

I grinned. “Is that display of manliness necessary?”

“Very,” he said, stooping to lock the wheel to the rack. “Life is boring if you only do necessary things.” He stepped toward me, brushing his hands off on his jeans, a dark satchel hanging from his shoulder to his hip. “Sorry I made you wait.”

“It’s okay, I only got here a minute ago.”

“Then let’s go.” He took my hand in his for a minute, letting my fingers slip through his before heading toward the station doors.

“Where are we going exactly?” I said, following him up the steps and toward the train platforms. “You kind of left that detail out.”

“Ah, so remember when we were trying to find a new place that was just ours?”

“Yeah?” When Toro Iseki had been under renovations, Tomohiro could draw in peace, but not so much now.

“It turns out Antarctica is a hell of a commute,” he said. “So I’ve found the next best thing.”

“Wait,” I said. “I thought you said you were going to stop drawing.”

“I am,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “I have.” He pulled out his train pass and scanned it on the platform barrier. The gateway buzzed and the little metal doors flung open.

“So then why do you need a new place?” I said, scanning my own train pass and following him through. He turned to the east platform, and we sat on a bench to wait.

“Because,” he said, speaking quietly in the busy station, “first, I don’t know how long I can go without drawing. Remember how I said I’d have the nightmares and wake up with ink on the floor? Or the ink during the kendo match and maybe even those fireworks? Trying not to draw might be a way to contain the ink, but if it falls through, my only other choice is trying to control the drawings. And for that, I need a safe place to sketch. And second, I need a place to be alone with my girlfriend where others can’t snoop.”

“And Antarctica is just too far,” I smirked.

“I hear the penguins are cute, though.”

“So in non-penguin news, I’ve decided I’m going to learn how to control whatever it is inside me,” I said, watching Tomo’s eyes carefully. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone, that we’d figure it out together.

He looked surprised, and worried. “Katie, we don’t even know if that’s true. Just because Yuki’s brother said that to you...you’re not a Kami okay?”

“I know that, but there’s something going on, right? Even Jun thought that—” I stopped. When Jun had told me I manipulated the ink, that there was ink inside me, Tomohiro had been writhing on the ground haunted by shadows. He hadn’t heard a word of it.

“Jun?” Tomohiro echoed. He looked at me with concern. “Takahashi is dangerous, Katie. He’s not bothering you again, is he?”

“No,” I said, looking away. I felt like the truth was written all over my face. “I just feel like—don’t you think he might at least know some things we don’t? I mean, there’s got to be a reason the ink reacts to me.”

“There is,” Tomohiro said, tucking my hair back over my shoulder. He leaned in and his lips grazed the top of my ear. “We’re linked, Katie, and we can fight this together. We don’t need anyone else’s help.”

I nodded.

“Katie...can I ask you something?” His breath was hot against my ear and I shivered.

“What?”

“Can you—I mean...” He leaned back and sighed. “I know you’re still learning Japanese. So you won’t take offense, right?”

“Oh jeez,” I said, the heat of the embarrassment coursing through me. “What did I do?”

He paused, looking troubled. “It’s—it’s Takahashi. When you call him by his first name, it’s...not really comfortable for me.”

“Oh,” I said, staring at him. Of course. Calling someone by their first name in Japan was personal. Intimate. “You’re jealous!” I laughed.

“It’s not funny,” he said quietly, and it wiped the grin right off my face. I hadn’t thought about it before, but it was probably humiliating for him that I called another guy by his first name.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just for me,” he said. “It’ll sound bad if you call him that in front of anyone. Especially since he’s older than you. It sounds like—it sounds like you’re more than friends. A lot more.”

I’d heard another girl call him Jun, and he’d never seemed to mind, so I’d gone along with it. Takahashi sounded strange and distant to me, but I remembered Ikeda’s response when I’d called out his first name. Maybe it really was a mistake to use it.

“Got it,” I said. “My bad.”

Tomohiro smiled. “It’s okay.”

The train whirred into the station, its brakes squealing as the arrival announcement chimed on the loudspeaker. The stale station air whisked around our faces.

And then I heard a familiar voice calling over the sound of the train.

“Tomo-kun!”

He looked up, hands in his pockets and expression frozen, like he was completely confused.

“Shiori?”

I glanced at him for a minute. Wasn’t he calling another girl by her first name? That was the same thing he’d just been upset about. But wait—she was younger than him. I’d have to ask Yuki. Names were way too complicated.

Shiori ran toward us, waving a hand. She wore her school uniform, a tartan red-and-blue skirt with her pregnant belly ballooning under her white blouse. Her white socks were pulled neatly up to her knees, her black loafers clunking against the ground. She swung her black book bag in her other hand.

“Dame yo,” Tomo warned as she approached. He shook his head disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t be running.”

“Heiki, heiki,” Shiori said, swishing her hand back and forth. “You worry too much, Tomo-kun. Hi, Katie.”

“Hi,” I said, trying to smile. I knew her life was hard right now, but I didn’t like the way she was leaning into Tomo. She knew we were dating, right?

Tomo stepped back, as if he was thinking the same thing. He ducked into the train and we followed.

“Are you on your way home?” I asked.

Shiori shook her head. “I take this train to my doctor’s office.”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks flush. “How...how’s it going?”

“Good,” she smiled. “The baby’s very healthy.” The train was crowded, but Tomo spotted a narrow spot for two beside a salaryman on the red leather bench. He sat, his back pressed against the window, and looked up at me. I took a step forward, but Shiori brushed past me and sat down next to him, resting her bag on her lap. Guess I’m standing. It was fine, though. Shiori probably needed the spot anyway. I wrapped my fingers around the metal pole, trying to take it in stride.