Jason Rohan - The Sword of Kuromori

‘No. Nothing like him. He loves his school.’

The senior officer studied Kenny, as if seeking the source of the boy’s sudden anger. ‘What is the purpose of your visit to Japan?’ he asked.

‘My dad’s a professor at Tokyo University. I’m spending the summer with him.’

The officer nodded at each answer. ‘I’m afraid we have more questions for you,’ he said. ‘Please, come with me.’

‘Is this going to take long?’ Kenny couldn’t help saying. ‘It’s just that my dad’s waiting for me and –’

‘Come. Please.’

The officials ushered Kenny past his gawking fellow passengers, including the peanut lady.

‘See? I knew he was on drugs,’ she said smugly.

Kenny followed the officials to a small office.

‘Please, sit,’ the senior official said, gesturing towards one of two hard chairs.

Kenny sat and drummed his fingers on the table while the two men departed. The door opened and another man entered. He wore a dark suit, sunglasses and his raven hair was slicked back.

‘Mr Blackwood,’ the newcomer said, extending his hand to shake. ‘My name is Sato.’ He slid a business card across the table and sat opposite Kenny. ‘I am here to help you. You can trust me.’

‘My counsellor says I have trust issues.’ Kenny chewed his lip. ‘What’s this all about, Mr Sato? I thought I didn’t need a visa to visit Japan.’

‘You are Ken Blackwood, yes? Son of Charles Blackwood and grandson of Lawrence Blackwood?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ Kenny said, unable to hide his surprise. ‘How do you . . .?’

‘Your grandfather is a great man. A hero to some Japanese people. Did you know that?’

Kenny blinked. ‘Uh, no, sir. Not really.’

Sato leaned back and steepled his fingers. ‘I am not sure how much of this I should tell you, if any, but I shall try to help you and you will help me, yes?’

From the corner of his eye, Kenny glimpsed a huge shadow looming over the frosted-glass door.

‘Your ojiisan , your grandfather, came to Japan after World War Two, yes?’

Kenny’s eyes flicked back to Sato. ‘He did tell me that, yeah.’

‘And he told you he was here to help the Japanese people recover, after the war?’

‘Something like that.’

Sato smiled. ‘Your grandfather, I’m sorry to say, was a liar, as well as a thief.’

Before Kenny could respond, there was a light knock at the door.

‘Enter,’ Sato said.

The door swung open and in came another official, followed by an enormous figure, who had to stoop to enter the office. Although the thing was wearing a tailored suit, it was easily three metres tall and heavily muscled. This was alarming in itself, but what really troubled Kenny was the brick-red skin, the tusks growing up from the lower jaw and the two horns on its head. He jumped up, grabbed his chair to wield as a weapon and cowered against the wall.

‘Taro! Ike !’ barked Sato, pointing to the door. The ogre-like creature bowed and hurried out.

‘Mr Blackwood, please be seated. You are safe,’ Sato said, coming over to help Kenny to his feet.

‘What . . . was that . . . thing?’ Kenny asked, his voice hoarse and shaky.

‘Tell me what you saw.’

‘Oh, not again! Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.’ Kenny’s heart was still thumping against his ribs.

Sato tapped his sunglasses. ‘No, I saw it. I just want to be sure you saw the same thing.’

‘What, that big red horned thing? Like a cross between Shrek and Hellboy.’

Sato arched an eyebrow. ‘So, you have the Gift of Sight? Interesting. I thought gaijin cannot see oni .’

‘ Oni ? Is that what it’s called?’

‘I call him Taro, but yes, he is oni .’

‘And what’s a guy-jean?’

‘You. An outsider, a foreigner.’ Sato sat down again. ‘Mr Blackwood, what you have just seen is something that most people never see. You have looked behind the curtain and peeped at the hidden world beyond.’

Kenny rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You do not have to. Your grandfather has sent you here to finish his work. Of that, I am sure. I am here to help you.’

‘Finish his work? What work? I’m just here to see my dad. Can’t I just go now?’

‘Empty your pockets, please. Do you have anything from your grandfather? Anything at all?’

‘Wait. You brought that oni thing in here. Why?’

‘Call it a test. The fact that you can see Taro tells me everything I need to know. Now, empty your pockets, please.’

‘And what if I don’t?’

‘Then Taro will empty them for you.’ Sato inspected his manicured fingernails. ‘I can wait.’

Muttering under his breath, Kenny placed the contents of his pockets on to the table: a set of keys attached to a Newcastle United key ring, some loose change, a half-empty packet of chewing gum, his phone, a pack of trading cards secured with a rubber band, and the wooden whistle.

‘Is that everything?’ Sato asked, rising to his feet again.

Kenny nodded and then stiffened as Sato approached him. Something about the man set Kenny’s teeth on edge, something not quite right, but he couldn’t decide what.

‘Stand up, raise your arms,’ Sato said and patted Kenny down. Paper rustled as his hand pressed against the boy’s ribcage. Sato reached into Kenny’s jacket and removed the envelope from the aeroplane. ‘Something you forgot?’ he said, taking out the letter, his eyes skimming over the writing.

‘Hey!’ Kenny protested. ‘That’s private. You can’t read other people’s –’

Sato’s free hand drew a shape in the air and Kenny’s voice vanished as suddenly as if an off button had been pressed. Bewildered, Kenny continued to protest; his mouth moved, he felt air pass over his vocal cords, but no sound came out. He tried screaming, but he was like a character in a silent movie.

Sato read the letter a third time and then addressed Kenny, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘This is a strange letter. Not very informative. I am going to make a copy of it. Please stay here, for your own safety. Do not try to leave as Taro will be guarding the door.’ He smiled, without warmth. ‘You can shout for help if you want.’

Sato tossed the envelope on to the table and left the room. The hulking shadow of the oni moved in front of the door.

Kenny’s mind was racing. None of this made any sense. Barely twelve hours ago, he was a kid looking forward to a trip to the Far East. Now he was stuck in some kind of waking nightmare, complete with monsters that most people couldn’t see.

He reached for his phone and swore silently when he saw that there was no signal. Slipping it back into his pocket, he gathered up the rest of his belongings. The last item he picked up was the envelope and, when he did, something rolled out from underneath it: the whistle.

What was it that Grandad had said? Use the whistle only in emergencies . Ridiculous, but then again, if this wasn’t an emergency, what was?

Kenny blew on the whistle as hard as he could. As before, no sound came out. He was about to blow again when he heard a scuffling sound overhead. He looked up and saw the corner of a ceiling tile lift up. A snout poked through, followed by two sparkling eyes.

Kenny took an involuntary step back at the sight of the fat, furry creature from the aeroplane. It was real and it was watching him. Kenny stared as it lowered its hindquarters through the gap, dangled by its arms and then plopped awkwardly on to the table. It stood up on its back legs and reached its arms out, as if asking for a hug.

Not knowing what else to do, Kenny picked it up. The creature’s quick paws loosened four buttons on his shirt and it slithered under his clothing.