Jason Rohan - The Sword of Kuromori

Kenny stood up again. ‘OK, obviously, whatever’s going on here, you don’t need me. I’m way too dumb for any of this fun and games, so I’m just going to get my backpack and go, all right? I need to find my dad.’

Harashima adjusted a cufflink. ‘Kuromori -san , you are wanted by certain authorities who, no doubt, have you listed on their records as a threat to national security. You have no money, no friends, no contacts; you cannot speak, read or write Japanese. As of now, the only people who have helped you are us.’

‘I can call my dad, just as soon as I get a signal.’

‘Your father was arrested this afternoon, just before your plane landed. If you call him, it will lead Sato straight to you.’

Kenny’s hands closed into fists and he felt a scream starting low down in his stomach.

‘I know how difficult this is for you,’ Kiyomi said, ‘and believe me, I’d love to tell you more, but you’re going to have to trust us. You’re safe here. I saved your life once already. Why would I do that if I meant you harm?’

‘Look, I get it, OK? Something crazy is going on. I can see . . . weird creatures. My stupid grandad is somehow mixed up in this. You think I can help you, but you’re wrong. That’s not me. I don’t belong here and I don’t want to be involved in any of this, whatever it is.’

‘Kenny, you’re already involved,’ Kiyomi said. ‘As am I. We were involved in this before we were even born. Choices were made for us years ago, and now we have to decide whether to accept those choices or not.’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’ Kenny took a deep breath, placed his fists on the table and rested his weight on the knuckles. ‘OK, one question before I go: what does it mean? N, Ca, Al, Fm?’

‘Chemical names,’ Harashima said. ‘Nitrogen, Calcium, Aluminium and Fermium. They’re not important. What is important is their position in the periodic table. Nitrogen is 7, calcium is 20, aluminium is 13 and fermium is 100.’

Kiyomi looked expectantly at Kenny.

‘What? I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘I’m stupid, remember?’

‘Seven, twenty, thirteen, one hundred,’ she said. ‘It’s a date and time: July the twentieth, thirteen hundred hours.’

‘What’s the big deal about that?’

‘Ken -chan , that’s nine days from now. Unless you help us to stop it, that’s when fifty million people on the West Coast of America are going to die.’

Kenny’s legs buckled and he sat down hard.

‘Say that again,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I – I couldn’t have heard that right.’

Kiyomi sat down across from him and leaned closer. ‘Kenny, there is a plan to kill millions of people in America in nine days’ time to avenge something that happened many years ago.’

‘In nine days?’

Kiyomi nodded and leaned back.

‘How?’

‘We are not exactly sure, although I have a good idea,’ Harashima said.

‘And are you going to tell me?’

‘Not yet, Kuromori -san . You have not yet chosen sides, therefore it would be dangerous to tell you more.’

‘Sides?’

‘Ken -chan , there is a war still being fought,’ Kiyomi added. ‘There are some who would gladly turn back the clock and return Japan to its pre-industrial state.’

Her father turned off the television screens. ‘You are tired. Sleep will help.’

Kenny’s stomach growled and he put a hand over his middle to muffle it.

‘You’re still hungry?’ Kiyomi said. ‘Oyama said you ate everything. And I mean everything.’

Kenny cast a wry look in the direction of the furry animal. ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘It was him.’

‘Poyo!’ Kiyomi said. ‘But you had dinner already. No wonder you’re so fat. That was naughty.’ The creature lowered its head in shame.

‘Um, what is that thing anyway?’ Kenny asked.

‘Poyo? He’s tanuki . Japanese raccoon dog.’

‘Do you know why he was on my plane?’

Kiyomi paused. ‘I sent him. He’s been watching over you.’

Poyo nodded vigorously.

‘What do you mean, “watching over me”?’ A gnawing suspicion was growing in Kenny’s mind.

‘We sent him to America a few months ago, when we . . . We thought you might be in danger.’

Kenny rounded on the tanuki . ‘So you’re the one who’s been raiding my fridge at school? I thought I was going mad and kept blaming my room-mate. I got into a huge fight over that.’

Poyo’s ears drooped and he slunk away to hide under the table.

Kiyomi nodded. ‘I know. Poyo told me.’

‘What else did he tell you?’ Kenny’s ears were heating up.

Kiyomi exchanged a glance with her father. ‘Oh, nothing much. Just that you’re, er, very independent. He likes you, by the way. Says you’re much cleverer than you look.’

Kenny’s stomach rumbled again and he stood up, eyeing the door.

‘So why did I need this?’ he asked, holding up the bamboo whistle. ‘If Fatso’s been spying on me the whole time?’

‘Because here you’re going to need all the help you can get. In America, you were pretty safe,’ Kiyomi explained.

‘You just said I was in danger.’

‘It was your grandfather’s idea,’ Harashima said. ‘And it worked. We protected you and brought you here.’

‘And that makes it all right, does it? You know what? I’ve had enough of being here, wherever here is. I’m off. See ya.’

Kenny went to the door, slid it open and stopped. His path was blocked by the huge servant he had encountered earlier. The man was holding Kenny’s backpack.

‘No one is going to prevent you leaving,’ Harashima said, ‘but know that you do not choose your path; the path chooses you.’

Kenny rolled his eyes. ‘Isn’t that what Yoda said to Luke?’

Kiyomi took the backpack and held it out to Kenny.

‘Tell you what,’ she said, ‘let’s go get some air. I’ll buy you a burger, so at least you’re fed, and then I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go.’

Kenny’s eyes darted between the people in the room. ‘No strings?’ he asked.

‘No strings.’ Kiyomi held up three fingers, palm outwards with thumb and little finger touching. ‘Scout’s honour,’ she said.

Kenny allowed himself a smile. ‘I’ll bet you were never a Scout, or even a Girl Guide.’

Kiyomi handed Kenny his backpack. ‘See? Poyo was right: you are smarter than you look.’ She returned the smile.

‘Kiyomi- chan ,’ her father said in a low voice, ‘be careful. They know he’s here.’

‘So,’ Kiyomi said, leading the way past the huge servant, ‘do they have McDonald’s where you’re from?’

The cool night air ruffled Kenny’s hair as he clung to the motorcycle. They rode down a long thoroughfare which seemed like a canyon made of light. Glass-fronted buildings towered on either side, brightly lit from within. On the outside they were decked with huge illuminated signs advertising cosmetics, electronic goods, soft drinks, cars and countless other products.

Pedestrians milled around everywhere, patiently waiting for the traffic lights to change; when they did, the crowds would break and spill across the roads in great waves.

Kiyomi passed a small temple, the reflected lights of skyscrapers glinting in the koi pond in front. She pulled into the car park of a McDonald’s restaurant and glided to a stop. Kenny dismounted and crouched to take a closer look at the motorcycle.

‘This bike,’ he said, ‘has no exhaust pipes.’