Jason Rohan - The Shield of Kuromori

‘We’re getting murdered here,’ one of Kenny’s players grumbled. ‘The ref isn’t giving us anything.’

‘I’ve got an idea,’ Kenny said. ‘You two, make a run down the wings, draw the defenders to you. You and you, drop back in case of a counter. Leave me space in the middle.’

‘You sure about this?’ someone asked.

‘What do we have to lose? We’re two down already.’

Coach Heagney signalled for the kick-off. ‘You guys ready?’ He put his whistle to his lips.

Kenny closed his eyes and remembered his training: all matter was composed of energy and that energy could be harnessed and shaped by will. He’d been encouraged to practise, so why not now?

PHEEEEEP! Dionte touched the ball forward and Brandon charged towards it like a thundering rhinoceros. Kenny reached the ball first, flicked it up with his left toe and then hammered it on the volley straight upwards with his right, while falling backwards. The game stopped as everyone stared at the ball rocketing higher and higher into the peach-hued sky.

Coach Heagney squinted upwards, his chewing gum falling from his open mouth, as the ball vanished from view. He shook his head, then spluttered, ‘What the heck was that? Did you just lose the ball?’

Kenny sauntered over to stand by the goal post.

‘You! Blackwood! Didn’t you hear . . .?’ The coach’s voice trailed off as the ball reappeared and dropped out of the sky. It didn’t have time to bounce as Kenny tapped it into the goal with the side of his foot.

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Heagney muttered.

‘That’s not fair!’ Brandon screamed. ‘The ball was out of play. The goalkeeper wasn’t even in the goal.’

‘Two–one,’ Heagney called, holding up his fingers to show the score. ‘Final play. Next goal wins.’

‘You are dead meat,’ Brandon snarled into Kenny’s face.

BZZZT! Kenny’s wrist tingled. With a scowl, he checked the screen on his smartwatch. It had buzzed to indicate the arrival of a message from Kiyomi.

The text was typically blunt: MEET ME OUT FRONT – NOW. WE’VE GOT TROUBLE.

Kenny scowled. This was not good. ‘Coach? How much time do we have left?’

Heagney peered at his battered stopwatch. ‘About three minutes.’

‘Great,’ Kenny muttered to himself. He’d have to make this fast.

The whistle blew. After a quick exchange of short passes, Kenny received the ball and bore down hard on goal. He skipped past two challenges and was about to shoot when a large shadow from the corner of his eye signalled Brandon was flying in. Kenny sensed a two-footed, studs-up lunge, coming for his shins. Without breaking stride, he flicked the ball upwards, back-heeled it over his head and dived past Brandon’s incoming legs.

Kenny’s palms hit the turf; he hunched his shoulders, tucked his head in and dropped his elbows to complete a forward roll. Then he sprang forward at full stretch to connect with the ball, heading it past the astonished keeper. Behind him, he heard a lumbering Brandon hit the ground.

‘AAAAH! My ankle!’ Brandon rolled around, clutching his boot.

‘Can I go now, sir?’ Kenny asked.

‘Wha –? How the –? Yes, you can go, Blackwood.’ Heagney snatched up his first-aid bag and raced over to where Brandon lay, wailing.

Kenny sped away from the football pitch.

‘Kenny! That was amaz– Hey! Where are you going?’ Stacey yelled, as he sprinted past.

‘I’m a superhero. I’m off to save the world,’ Kenny called over his shoulder.

‘Kenny Blackwood, you get back here!’ Stacey threw down her pompoms.

Kiyomi was waiting on her customised motorcycle, tapping one foot on the ground and revving the engine softly. She was wearing her black biker leathers and the mirrored visor of her helmet was up, reflecting a vapour trail in the golden sky.

Kenny’s heart fluttered, as it often did when he saw her. He slowed and ran a hand through his hair to tame it.

Kiyomi glared at him. ‘What took you so lo–?’ Her eyes widened and she struggled to stifle the smile stealing over her lips. ‘Why are you wearing . . .? No!’

‘Yep.’ Kenny spread his arms in surrender. ‘I reckon I made the team. The coach said we had to impress him and I was so good I impressed myself.’

Kiyomi arched an eyebrow. ‘Still as modest as ever, I see.’ She thumped the seat behind her. ‘We’ve got to go. Oni on the move.’

‘In broad daylight? How many?’

‘At least two. Papa suspects there’s something bigger going on, so we’re to observe and report.’

Kenny climbed on to the back of the bike. ‘Only watching? Are you able to do that?’

‘Don’t push your luck. I’m still mad at you for last night. And for making me wait.’ Kiyomi flipped her visor down.

‘You’re always mad at me,’ Kenny muttered, and the motorcycle slipped silently away.

Kiyomi swung a left out of the school gates, then made another, cutting down a leafy backstreet, bordered on one side by telegraph poles linked with black cables. Kenny clung on, the manicured shrubbery and wide green spaces of Nogawa Park zipping by on his left.

Kiyomi pulled the bike over at a petrol station.

‘Why have we stopped?’ Kenny asked.

Kiyomi tapped the touchscreen display on the dashboard. ‘They should be here any minute. I got Poyo to plant a bug on the vehicle. They’re heading east.’

‘Since when do oni hitch lifts? And in what?’

A large cream-and-turquoise delivery van rumbled past. The logo on its side was a black cat carrying a kitten in its mouth.

‘In that,’ Kiyomi said, throttling hard and leaving smears of rubber on the forecourt.

The van hugged the grassy central reservation and signalled a right at the next crossroads. Long shadows stretched in front as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Kenny squinted at the road sign ahead with its English lettering below Japanese symbols.

‘Ajinomoto Stadium? Are they going to watch footie?’

Kiyomi shrugged. ‘The airport’s that way too. Who knows?’

After about half a kilometre, the delivery truck left the road, turning right on to a strip of red asphalt. Kiyomi pulled over to the kerb.

Reading the road sign overhead, Kenny said, ‘Kokuritsu Tenmondai? What the heck is that?’

‘It’s the National Astronomical Observatory,’ Kiyomi replied. ‘As in telescopes and stargazing.’

The delivery van squeezed between two stone pillars, each with a globe light on top, and paused by a security cabin on the right.

‘Now what?’ Kenny said. ‘Do we follow them in there?’

‘Too obvious. We’re meant to be watching only.’

The van driver handed a parcel to the guard and drove into the compound.

‘I can ditch the bike and sneak in,’ Kiyomi said, eyeing the thick tree cover and low perimeter railings.

‘What about me?’ Kenny said.

‘No chance. You’re wearing football kit. Talk about conspicuous.’

Kenny scowled. ‘Thanks for nothing. Why did you bring me along then? How about I just –?’

His remaining words were ripped away by a blast of scorched air as an explosion tore through the security hut. A ball of fire billowed upwards while chunks of debris rained down.

‘What the –?’ Kenny cried out. ‘Move!’ He pointed to the gates.

‘We’re only supposed to observe!’ Kiyomi shouted back.

‘Stuff that. People are getting killed. Let’s go!’

Kiyomi revved the engine. ‘Remember, this is your idea. Hang on tight!’