The residual pounding inside Rin’s head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to his skull; no headache had ever been this fierce. The light of the afternoon seared his eyes, and he screwed them shut. Nausea swelled the tide inside his gut. He shifted on the asphalt and shivered as the puddles soaked through his trouser leg and made his skin crawl. His joints creaked, stiffer than wood. His head lolled down like a puppet with its strings cut.
He jerked awake, and the back of his head bounced against the brick wall. Every muscle screamed in protest as he shifted from this uncomfortable position. Rin groaned and rolled his head around, finally hauling himself upright.
The alley loomed all around him, cold and nondescript. The long, concrete corridor stretched between two office blocks. The odd window on either side peered across into its opposite number—there wasn’t much else to see. No sun overhead, either, but the dreary atmos reeked of late afternoon. There hadn’t been any sun today, but the light level fell all the same. An errant gust whipped between the brick walls, cycling loose papers and the carcasses of leaves. Rin shivered and pulled his blazer tighter over his chest, not that it did any good.
Just as the question of when passed his mind, Rin checked his watch. It had been at least four hours.
He turned on a heel, quietly trying to wrestle back any kind of bearings. He didn’t recognise this alley. Probably for the best. Spending one’s free time alone in alleyways said something about a person. That was no reflection on him, of course; none at all. He definitely didn’t spend his time alone skulking around abandoned places, not at all.
So deep in denial Rin was, he hadn’t yet noticed the Architect’s ethereal top-half floating ominously behind him.
“You finally awaken, boy.”
Rin jumped. “Fuck! Don’t scare me like that! Hang on—that’s so weird!”
The Architect was only partially manifested, and Rin could see the brick behind him. He proceeded to pass his hand through the man’s immaterial chest, like any rational person would on seeing a ghost. His hands simply phased through the apparition, no ectoplasmic tactility or ghostly chilling like he’d been expecting. Rin sighed and pouted.
Eventually… “Are you done?”
Rin scowled. “I didn’t hear you apologise for scaring the life out of me.”
“So ungrateful. I saved your life, boy.”
Memories from earlier came rushing back: the Rejected, the attack on the school. Rin’s third eye began to ache. Clutching at his head, he then became aware of the outline of the Ascension Blade against his leg, still in its sheath. In the corner of his eye, a figure slumped down against the opposing wall.
“Amibari!”
The blond girl lay on her side directly across the alleyway from him, unconscious. A straight gash in her forehead was bleeding down the side of her face, crimson congealing in her hair.
Rin shed his jacket and yanked the Ascension Blade from its sheath. Holding the knife between his teeth like a dog, he pulled his shirt sleeve taut and hacked at the material. Her chest rose and fell, a soft flutter from her mouth parting both lips. Relief set a cooling balm behind his eyes, and he palmed his forehead.
Even so, he needed to act.
Lifting her head up onto his knee, he scoured away the excess blood with the material. The stab wound was thin, and far too clean for how deep it went. There wasn’t much blood, not enough spilt to worry him terribly. Rin carefully sifted a hand through her hair, trying to untangle matted strands. As he raked around her right ear, cold metal brushed against his fingers. Curious, probably against his better judgement, Rin felt around, and pinched his fingers on a familiar outline. Holding it up to the light, and sure enough, the hollow silver cube glinted as he turned them over in his fingers. A mass swelled in his throat.
Of course. What did he think would happen?
For once, he hadn’t really been thinking.
Rin shook his head and stopped fondling her ear. Curse him for getting distracted. He retrieved the silk and stretched it out between his hands. It was crude, but he managed to fashion it into a poor makeshift bandage.
“You know this girl?” Asked the Architect.
“Ugh, yes!”
The spirit studied her. “What relation is she to you? A lover?”
“No!” Rin scowled. “Don’t make this weird!”
“I thought as much,” the Architect scoffed. “You are hardly manly enough for a wife.”
“Shut up!”
“Is she your sister?”
“Again, no! Shut up!”
The Architect stood by. “Then why attend to her wounds?”
“You’re unbelievable!” Rin cried. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive! Even if that knife wound straight to the forehead doesn’t lobotomise her, if I left that wound open to the elements any longer she’d die of sepsis! Who gave her that wound, I wonder? Oh right, it was you!”
“Are you waiting for an apology for that too?” The Architect folded his arms.
“It’s a bit too late for that now! What the hell were you thinking?”
“My ends justify their means.”
“Ends? What ends? Will you ever explain anything?! What are you talking about?!” Tearing at his hair, Rin was practically vibrating on the spot in sheer frustration. Choking on half-formed expletives, he pointed wordlessly at his ragged school uniform, covered in dirt and scratches from his impromptu nap on the street. “Are you out of your mind? I asked you to give me your power, not for you to possess my body and then stab my childhood friend in the face!”
“Is all the youth of this age so disrespectful?”
Rin groaned and buried his head in his hands. Questions ran rampant through his mind. Stumbling over to a raised section—the wall of a ramp leading up to a heavy metal door—Rin perched on the brickwork and bent double with a slouch.
He looked back over at Kinuka, asleep.
She was still alive, thank goodness.
Touching gingerly at his own forehead, Rin felt the slit where his third eye sat. It was closed for the time being. Kinuka had a similar wound. The Architect must’ve wanted to put Kinuka through the same process as himself. But why? Why involve someone who had nothing to do with this? Head wounds were usually fatal, but Kinuka was alive. Just what was the spirit trying to do?
The Architect floated over.
“What do you intend to do now, boy?”
Rin grit his teeth, mere inches away from trying to throttle the ghost. Even in his rage, he knew such an attempt would only make him look more the fool. There was no threatening a ghost. He considered making a call but decided against it—better to avoid risking copyright infringement.
“I am staying put.”
“Why?”
“I don’t need to explain myself!” Rin snapped. “That’s what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”
“I cannot.”
“Exactly! So, if you’re not willing to offer any actual guidance or explanations to, well, anything—you may as well shut up!”
The Architect sighed and faded away.
Rin folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. Rubbing his eyes, his vision was briefly obscured by a film of tears. He blinked, and thin wet tracks leaked from the corners of his eyes. No-one was around to see, thank god.
Kinuka Amibari woke with a jolt. Everything about her felt ablaze: her skin, her eyes, her head most of all. That pain came from her forehead. She touched gingerly at the area, only to find it wrapped up in cloth.
How long had she been asleep for?
What was even stranger than this pain she felt, however, was that she had a dream: a dream that, even now, she could remember as clear as day. She hardly ever remembered her dreams. When she did, they were always very brief, and very bright. Flashes of colour, errant sensations all over the place. Sometimes there were voices. They were never voices she knew, nor were the voices speaking words she could understand.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
Kinuka alerted at Rin’s voice from across the empty alleyway.
Fragments of that dream flashed past her mind’s eye. Rin had stood taller, with a third eye in the middle of his forehead, a tattoo under one eye. Those monsters made the floor tremble with every step, their roars ringing in her ears. Rin knelt over her, unnaturally serene. The tip of a knife broke the skin of her forehead, until—
“Stay away from me!” She couldn’t look away, inching back against the wall.
“Hey, I’m not a threat!” Rin raised both hands.
She would be the judge of that, thanks.
He took a step closer, and she yelped.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with me?!” Kinuka shrieked. “You—”
“Not so loud!” Rin grit his teeth and hushed with both hands. He took another step forward.
“I said stay AWAY from me, Rinkaku Harigane!”
He stopped. A murder of nosy crows lined up on the roof nearby took flight. The cacophony of cawing interspersed the frantic beating of wings.
Kinuka couldn’t retreat any further. The backs of her feet hit the corner. She still couldn’t look away. The Rin she saw now was the Rin from her dream. That tattoo under his left eye was still there, that eye on his forehead was still there. Everything in her dream was real.
“Please.” Her voice trembled. Knees buckling, she sank down to her heels. Her next words were lost between heaving sobs. “Please don’t hurt me—”
Rin bit his bottom lip and stepped back, eyes wide.
The primal fear from the previous day had embedded itself into her bones, but a dark flame coursed through her blood. Kinuka felt her skin shiver and flush simultaneously.
Why was she cowering?
Erratic breathing shook the muscles in her chest. Of all the times she had stood up for others, to bring smiles to their faces, and she couldn’t even stand up for herself. Hurting, weary, and deathly afraid. Was that who she was after all?
A wispy, gentle voice echoed from the back of her mind, the last request from a someone veiled and obscure.
“Treasure your choice, little one.”
Furiously blinking away tears, Kinuka spied a metallic glint in her periphery—that knife from her dream. The fear set into her bones turned brittle and shattered. She moved faster than she could ever remember. Darting across the alleyway, she snatched the knife from the floor, scuffing her knuckles raw. The blade’s carved hilt felt immediately at home in her hand. Warmth surged down her arm and up her spine. The adrenaline cut off the flow of her tears.
Rin started. Crying one moment, advancing the next, Kinuka had both fists raised, the Ascension Blade held in a reverse grip. She seized him by the shirt collar and pinned him against the wall. Her eyes were wide, her pupils narrowed, concentrating the intensity into a beam. Rin’s blood froze. His eyes prickled with fearful tears.
“Amibari— Wait—”
Kinuka paused for a single, shaky breath. “You had better explain exactly what happened just there!” She raised the knife higher, and the boy flinched.
“I was right after all,” said the Architect, reappearing from nowhere. “The girl will also make a fine vessel. She has spirit, and potential.” He scratched his chin. “Her technique could still use work, however.”
“Hey, asshole!” Rin hissed over Kinuka’s shoulder. “How about you help me for a change?!”
She whipped around but couldn’t see anyone. “Hey! Who the hell are you talking to?!”
“Uh, a ghost!”
“Don’t fuck with me!” She hissed, “Start making sense!”
She pressed the knife against his temple. The edge broke the skin. A thin trickle of blood snaked down the serpentine half-blade.
“I’m telling the truth!” Rin raised both his hands in surrender. His face was still pointing away, his dark and lidded eyes fearful.
Slowly, Kinuka lowered the Ascension Blade. She stepped back, exhaling. Rin stood against the wall. Stillness was orchestrated with laboured breathing, until
Kinuka broke the silence with a command. “Well?! What are you waiting for, Christmas? Start talking!”
Rin clicked his tongue. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
She raised the knife.
He started like a meerkat. “Fucking hell! Are you actually trying to kill me?”
Kinuka’s eye twitched. “You’ll soon find out.”
Stab him, stab him, stab him—
Kinuka shook her head. A shiver of disgust rippled down her spine. Repulsed, she tossed the knife to the side. The antique clattered to the ground six feet away. Rin’s eyes tracked it all the while.
“There.” She held up both empty hands as proof. “Now, what’s going on?”
The fear in Rin’s eyes didn’t lift, still half-expecting her to attack him again.
Was that how he saw her now? Just another threat? A deluge burgeoned behind her eyes, and her legs trembled. A younger Rin superimposed itself in real time, eyes perhaps wider still. She gasped and sank to her knees, lip trembling.
“I didn’t mean to— I didn’t want to— I’m sorry—” Kinuka’s legs finally failed her. She slipped down between her heels and began sobbing into her hands.
“You really are hopeless, boy.” The Architect’s unhelpful commentary continued. He stood next to Rin, arms folded, as though he had been there the whole time. “Will you not attend to her as before?”
“What the hell do you want me to do?!” Rin raised his hands in defeat. “I’ve never comforted a hysterical girl before!”
“And so, you denigrate her as such. Telling indeed.”
“Go away, will you? You’re not helping!” He tried to shoo the spirit away with both hands, a futile effort. “Besides, this whole situation is your fault to begin with! Now she thinks I’m some kind of psychopath!”
“Disrespectful and ungrateful. You are wretched, child.”
“Who are you talking to?” Kinuka was staring with puffy eyes.
Boy and spirit exchanged a look. Was it worth it to try and explain? Rin paused, before deciding against it. He waved the matter away. “You’ll meet him soon.”
She was too confused to raise further objection. It was better that way, for now.
Rin retrieved the Ascension Blade and returned it to his satchel. The boy then perched in usual birdlike fashion on the low wall nearby.
“You’re right. Explanations are in order.” He rubbed his neck, sheepish. “Then again, I really have no clue as to what’s going on either. Okay, that’s a completely lie. I know exactly what’s going on but haven’t the slightest as to the why. The ‘why’ is really bothering me right now, but I can at least tell you the ‘what.’ This is going to sound far-fetched, but you’ll just have to hear me out before you call me crazy. Deal?”
Kinuka nodded, now sat cross-legged.
The story he told sounded completely ludicrous, even to him, even though it had all just happened, just like that. The only problem lay in the fact that everything recounted had been reality.
Stories could be put down and walked away from. Fictional characters were just that: archetypes. Whatever pain they went through was just a coded little lecture for the reader, some pretentious truism about the world to help them live their own lives. Screw that! They weren’t real—he was!
“That’s it, then?” Kinuka had listened to everything but understood precious little. The sheer amount of disbelief she’d had to suspend at this point was downright astronomical.
“So far.” Rin hung his head. He wanted nothing more than to just wake up from this nightmare and see that he still had two more hours left on the clock before he had to get up for school.
Yeah, that would’ve been nice.
Just two more extra hours of sleep, and he wouldn’t have hallucinated all of this.
The pills of reality would never be easy to swallow, unfortunately.
Kinuka was preoccupied gingerly feeling the silk wrapped around her forehead. The sight of Rin with one shirt sleeve roughly cut off was an interesting fashion choice, and it had her searching for where the rest of the material had gone. “Then, it must’ve been you that dressed my headwound while I was unconscious…”
Rin was looking very pointedly elsewhere. “You would’ve bled out otherwise.”
“Thank you, Rin. I mean it.”
He fidgeted. “Just… didn’t want that stain on my conscience, that’s all.”
“You have a conscience?”
“Oh, shut up…”
They lapsed into silence.
“I still don’t want to believe any of this is real,” she said at last.
“And you think I do?”
She ignored him. “I thought it was all a dream. At the same time, it felt so real. Do you ever remember your dreams?”
He paused. “Yeah. I write them down. All my best designs come to me in dreams. Why?”
“I never do. I always wanted to know what it felt like to have a really nice dream. Turns out the first dream I remembered wasn’t nice and wasn’t a dream after all.” Her shoulders sank, despondent. “You looked so different there,” she said, “you stood taller, you had that gross eye in your head, and that shadowy look on your face—so scary.”
“I told you,” Rin cried, “that wasn’t me! That was the Architect!”
“Who, the strange ghost of a five-thousand-year-old ancient Egyptian priest that you met in your ritual-induced attempted-suicide schizoid fever dream?” She tilted her head to one side, wearing a look of innocent confusion so genuine that it almost managed to disguise the dripping sarcasm.
Rin’s expression soured even further. “Not when you put it like that…” All of this was so ridiculous. “I already told you, I don’t know why this is happening!”
“Well, you clearly knew enough to decide that trying to murder and kidnap me was a priority.”
“Will you quit it? That wasn’t me!”
“She does not believe you,” said the Architect. “You are awful at communicating.” The spectre had been hovering nearby, as though vaguely amused by the petty squabbles of lesser beings.
“And you don’t fancy helping at all?”
He pretended to consider this. “Not especially.”
“Well, isn’t that fantastic. So, I get to hear your unhelpful commentary unabated, and you won’t bother to help explain a situation you are directly responsible for causing?”
A pause. “Yes.”
Rin groaned, head in his hands.
“Arguing with your little friend again?” Kinuka cut in.
“Little? I’ve never seen a more muscular guy in my life!”
“Lucky you,” was her frosty remark. “I still can’t see him.”
He gave her a look. “Fancy an ogle, do you?”
She blinked and choked, flustered.
Rin looked from one to the other. “Yeah, yet another mystery you’ve oh-so-kindly forgotten to address: why can’t she see you, Architect?! You took the liberty of stabbing her, after all. Shouldn’t she be the same as me now?”
The spirit caressed his chin in the absence of a beard. “The connection has been made, but she has not yet awakened. Often, the Third Eye requires external stimulus. Fret not, it will come in due time.”
“Yeah? Well, it had better happen soon, because I’m tired of standing here and looking like I’m going crazy.”
Kinuka was stifling giggles. “It does look pretty funny, seeing you talk to yourself.”
“See?!”
“Your fragile reputation is none of my concern, boy.”
“At this point, I fail to see what is! You’re the most negligent and antisocially nonchalant ghost I’ve ever met!”
“Met many ghosts, have you?” Kinuka asked sweetly.
“In my father’s house, yeah. Tonnes…” Rin pulled a face. Standing up, he stretched his limbs idly, contorting his arms and back to work out the kinks. Kinuka giggled at the display of exertion, but her face soon fell. The bleakness of the situation had finally set in.
After a while, she asked, “What now?”
Meanwhile, Rin had retreated to the low wall and resumed his perch. “How’re you holding up?”
“Tired. Afraid.”
“Not surprised. You wanna go home?”
Kinuka rubbed her arms. The chill was starting to settle in. “Maybe a little.”
“You might as well. You’re not the one in danger here.”
“I know…” She gave the knife a rueful glance out of the corner of her eye. The carved handle still protruded from Rin’s satchel.
He gestured to the mouth of the alley. “If you want to take off now, be my guest. I won’t stop you. Go on, hurry along. With any luck, you can forget this ever happened.”
Kinuka reflexively stood and took a step, before looking back. “You’re not coming with me?”
Rin blinked. “Are you kidding?”
She looked affronted. “No?”
Rin sighed. “Do you think for one second the police won’t have already surrounded my house? Thanks to a certain someone, I’m likely already public enemy number one.”
Kinuka nodded. “You don’t think the police will buy the story of cyclops monsters attacking a school?”
Rin barked a harsh, expletory laugh. Not a shred of mirth remained on his face. Kinuka’s insides twisted in a lurch of pity.
“They’ll probably be looking for you, too,” he continued. “With any luck, you’ll have already been put out on missing persons’ lists, or suchlike. According to them, I’ve probably ‘kidnapped’ you.” He laughed again—this, more at his own chagrin. “Fuck. I guess Uchino was right after all…”
“Dasha?” Their paths had seldom crossed and Kinuka was all the more thankful for it. She had always been cordial, but the girl was far too intense for her liking. “I didn’t realise you knew her.”
“I don’t!”
“What did she say?”
“Doesn’t concern you.”
“Rude.”
“Whatever the case, you had better turn yourself into the police, let everyone know you’re all safe.”
“If I do that, they’re likely to ask about you. Your whereabouts, that kind of thing.”
“Then you can tell them the truth.”
Kinuka didn’t fancy explaining any of this to the police—but there had been many other eyewitnesses. Maybe her account wouldn’t be so unbelievable if everyone else reported the same.
Rin was eyeing her shrewdly. At her hesitation to agree outright, the corner of his mouth twitched into a scowl.
Inextricable shame began trickling down her neck.
“If not,” said Rin, “then you can—oh, I don’t know—go back to your knitting, or whatever. This isn’t your problem, and I won’t make it so—not of my own volition, anyway.” He shot an angry over-the-shoulder look at someone she couldn’t see. “What’re you waiting for? Get lost already, go home. Shoo.”
She could. Kinuka heavily considered it. She had nothing to do with this. Aside from the fact she’d been subjected to an ancient ritual and had sustained apparently non-lethal head trauma, she had nothing to do with this. She looked out into the alley, then back at Rin.
The boy had returned to staring deeply at the brick wall opposite, resting both upper arms on his knees, so that his forearms dangled limp from his elbows. Both eyes were narrowed, and the fingers on one hand flexed in rhythmic sequence.
His thinking face was characteristic. She’d never seen anything like it. Intensely concentrated, but also entirely absent. How could someone look so at ease with such focus? Never once had she been able to tell what he was thinking, however.
“But what will you do?”
“I’ll figure something out,” he mumbled, chewing idly on his thumbnail.
She allowed herself a smile. “You always did.”
He didn’t respond to this.
“Are you alright, Rin?”
More silence.
He didn’t look not alright, but that unnerved her even more.
If he wasn’t alright, would he even tell her?
The light at the mouth of the alley was all in her head at this time of day, but it drew her gaze all the same. Her forehead was tingling, something just below the surface was twitching. One she was out of the alley She turned back around and even took a step. A goodbye welled in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
What was the point, anyway?
Rin didn’t care either way. He wasn’t even looking at her.
“Forget it, Amibari. I have nothing left to say to you.”
Beyond doing his dues, he really didn’t—did he?
If she hadn’t been bleeding on the floor, would he have even been there when she woke up? But, what about the earrings? Kinuka raised a hand to her ear and rolled one between her fingers. Why go through all that effort? Surely, just a ‘happy birthday’ would’ve sufficed. She didn’t know how boys’ minds worked. They were always the ones yapping on and on about how they couldn’t understand women, for crying out loud. Hypocritical much?
The silver warmed at her touch. She had put them on in homeroom. Her friends had pointed them out, speculating madly, but her tongue was tied. Had he seen the earrings when he was bandaging her wound? He had to have noticed them by now. She couldn’t determine whether she wanted him to or not. Even the thought of asking about them felt stupid now.
She raised her foot about to take another step, when she felt a tug on her heart. She gasped and put a hand to her chest. A sudden arc of pain had lanced down her left arm. She raised it and saw a bright red thread tied tight around her fifth finger.
She had nearly forgotten all about it.
She tried to pinch it with her other hand, but her fingers slipped right through. The thread was always so vivid, no matter the lighting. Her gaze began tracing its length. It was never the same, usually spiralling and dithering who knows where.
Now, it was nearly taut.
She didn’t even need to look to know where the other end was tied. The ethereal thread was jumping ever so slightly, tied tight around Rin’s fifth finger, now drumming in rhythmic sequence against his cheek.
He didn’t seem to have noticed.
Not surprising. He never once had.
Kinuka raised her bound hand and gave it a sharp tug. Instantly, another stab of pain at her heart. She hung her head.
Damn it.
That one brought actual tears to her eyes. She blinked and scoured them with one finger. No-one had ever believed her. Her friends had laughed, poked fun at her for pining for a fairytale fantasy. The best explanation a youth therapist had been able to offer was maladaptive daydreaming—despite what she was sure was their best of intentions, even that felt like a derisive insult. No-one took her seriously, but why would they? It was fine, she told herself. A shrill chuckle rang within the steel cage she locked up in her own mind. All she had to do was go through the entire rest of her life believing herself crazy.
It was the same pain from this morning. The same pain as that day.
Argh! Damn it all to hell.
She looked to the alley. The light had dimmed somewhat. She took a step back, and the tension in her chest lifted just a little. Kinuka finally swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to Rin. He might not have anything left to say to her, but the same wasn’t true in return.
“Thought of something yet?” She asked.
Rin blinked out of his trance and stared at her, vaguely bemused. “You’re still here.”
“Well-observed, genius.” She folded her arms, nonplussed.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Hear what?”
“That you can leave. I’m not keeping you here.”
“I heard that.”
“Then why are you still here?”
She sighed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He studied her, chewing on his thumb again. “I have suspicions.”
“Name one.”
“You… need a taxi to get home and don’t have any money.”
She palmed her face.
“You… want to go shopping and need a gopher to carry your bags.”
“Not that either.”
“You’re… hungry and want me to buy you food.”
Okay, that one was true—the first part, at least. Her stomach gave a manageable twinge at the mention of something to eat. She wasn’t sure where the inference of her having no money was coming from and did not like it. “Do I look that poor to you?”
He tilted his head. “Not especially, but usually the only reason women hang around guys is to ask for money they don’t have for some purpose or other. Sorry to disappoint, if that’s the case.”
“It’s not!” She cried. “Who’s been treating you that way?”
“Oh you know—hopefuls, desperates, basket-cases, opportunists… I forget their faces. I’d tell you if they were of consequence.”
“Ouch.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure there are lots of other guys at school who’d gladly be your walking-ATM for even a chance to stand next to you, you can ask one of them.”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
He didn’t answer that. She knew he knew the real reason, but he was clearly playing dumb to get a rise out of her. Fine. He wanted a rise? She’d give him a rise.
“Listen! I’m staying, because I want to help you!”
Kinuka immediately flushed at the sound of her own voice echoing among the brickwork. The alley was so quiet in the seconds that followed, Kinuka could practically hear Rin’s watch ticking away the seconds. He watched her, owl-like, before forcing a laugh.
“Now that is ridiculous,” he said. “Good one. I’d even laugh if I wasn’t working through a near-death experience right now.”
“I’m telling the truth!” She cried. “If what you’re saying is true, then those things—”
“Rejected—”
“Whatever! They attacked you because of that horrid knife. Now you have nowhere to go and are probably on the run. Do you think I’m so callous as to just leave you alone?!”
He cupped the back of his neck. “At this rate, I’m really wishing you would…”
“What if more of them come back? What will you do then?”
Rin jerked a thumb over his shoulder, once again invoking the spirit-she-couldn’t-see-but-who-was-obviously-real-you’ll-just-have-to-trust-me. “Secede my body to this grumpy old man again. He dealt with them just fine last time.”
“And what then? What are you going to do?”
“First, I’m going to find my dad—” He fished out the research journal from his satchel and waved it around in the open air. “Then, I’ll slap him silly until he gives me some tangible answers. Then, it’s back to our regularly scheduled programming.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
Rin looked pained. “Do you have to?”
“Of course not.”
His gaze hardened. “Then, take my advice: leave now, don’t look back, and forget you ever knew me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know I can’t do that.”
Rin’s lips thinned. It seemed he did indeed, and the frustration played on his brow. “Listen, Amibari. Think about the situation. You have your whole life ahead of you; I have a dangerous ritual knife in my bag. I don’t particularly know or care what you plan on doing with yourself, but I’d hazard it’s a lot better than what I’ve got ahead of me. With today’s curveball having irreversibly changed the course of my life, chances are I’ll either become god-emperor of the new world by this time next year, or dead in a ditch by tomorrow. Either way, I doubt either outcome factors into your life plans or future health insurance policies, so I’m telling you to get out while you still can.”
“You’re not ending up in a ditch.”
“God forbid a guy tries to do anything these days…”
“You’ll need my help!”
“What are you going to do, tie their laces together? These things aren’t human, Amibari. You’ll get fodderised like the rest of those kids, like Mr. Uchino.”
Her eyes shrank. “What happened?! Was he—”
“Obliterated,” he confirmed. “Right in front of his daughter.”
Ice crystalised in her fingers. Her heart sank. Rin seemed to have compartmentalised this tragedy already or was concealing it very competently.
He rolled his sore shoulder, and said, “Speaking of, what about your folks? They care about you, right? They’ll be worried if you go missing.”
Kinuka looked away, clasping her hands at her front. “They won’t know until I tell them.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She said, “I’ve been living alone for the past month or so.”
He paused, chewing his lip. His next words were softer, much more careful. “Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “They’re overseas. Business trip to America. They’re attending some convention somewhere, left me in charge of the house. Not sure when they’re coming back; they didn’t tell me.”
Rin sighed in relief. “That’s annoyingly convenient.”
“All the more reason for me to come with you!”
“What about school? Think about this rationally, Amibari.”
“I can’t, not when it’s your life on the line!”
He sighed into his hands. “I really wish you’d quit trying to make this about me…”
“But it is! It is, Rin! Who else is it about but you?”
“Nothing’s ever about one person by themselves. Don’t be so shortsighted. The second I let myself fall victim to believing I’m some kind of chosen protagonist, I’m actually going to kill myself.”
She folded her arms. “Don’t joke like that.”
“Bite me.”
“I don’t see why you won’t let me help you!”
“I just don’t see you proving useful, Amibari.”
Ow. Pinpricks flushed down her arms and back, and washed out with the sensation of something cold and heavy.
“Rin, why don’t you call me by my name anymore?”
The boy had his arms folded, looking decidedly elsewhere. “Whatever’s after me isn’t taking any prisoners. If you stay here, you’ll just end up as collateral.”
“Are you worried about me?” She pursed her lips, teasing. “I didn’t take you for a chauvinist.”
“Like hell! You can look after yourself, thanks.” Nonetheless, Rin’s thick brow wormed in torment. “It’d just be a waste. That’s all. You’re better off focusing on yourself, doing some good in the world. Just go.”
“I’m staying!” Kinuka hated feeling like she had to justify her own existence. “Whoever possessed your body already performed the ritual on me, so I might develop some powers too!”
Rin did at least look like he was considering this. After a long pause, he shrugged. “Well, it’s your funeral. Don’t expect me to bury you.”
He didn’t seem too torn up about it either way. Kinuka’s cheeks prickled, half-frustrated, half-disappointed. She had expected that to elicit a reaction, something, but she’d clearly thought wrong.
How much else had she been wrong about?
The boy crouching before her now seemed as mighty an enigma as the day she’d first laid eyes on him.
“Hey, Rin.”
He had just finished fishing his phone from the pocket of his blazer. “Damn thing’s completely broken…” He muttered, examining the cracked screen. He pressed buttons, but nothing responded. “Piece of trash. Why is nothing made to last anymore?”
“Rin!”
He turned. “A-yes?”
Kinuka gummed at her lip, before finally forcing the words out. “These past couple years… Why haven’t we spoken? You’ve barely spoken to me at all!”
His expression sobered immediately. A sudden frigidity steeled over his eyes so quickly it frightened her. Rin stood, his coiled legs slipping out from beneath him as he moved swiftly from his perch.
“Rin, please!” She insisted. “If I did or said the wrong thing, I just want to apologise! It’s been eating away at me for years. You won’t even look at me for more than a few seconds. You’ve been avoiding me for so long—what did I do?!”
But Rin was already walking away, his satchel swinging from his shoulder.
“Don’t just ignore me!” Kinuka seized a small stone from the floor and pelted it at him. The stone hit him on the back of the neck. Rin froze, head knocked forward, hand rubbing the afflicted area.
“I’m sorry!” Kinuka cried, cringing horribly. Her hand was still outstretched, her fingers curling. Bright red shame pricked at her cheeks.
Rin scuffed the ground with his shoe, hands burying themselves deep in his pockets. “You got any more stones to throw, princess?”
“Listen, I didn’t mean to—”
“Whatever. You just beamed a rock at my head, you sociopath. If you’re so intent on tagging along, then let’s get food. I’m hungry.”
He strode off towards the mouth of the alley ahead.
They’d been here for too long.
Kinuka stared a few seconds more, before the thread tightened on her finger. She broke into a run, hurrying after him. Did she really think she could get a straight answer out of him just like that? After so long? And, despite everything that had just happened, this was what she wanted to talk about? What was wrong with her?
The thread still ended with him. It always had done, after all.
The pair of them left the alley, now back on the streets they knew so well; suddenly outsiders in a city both had once called home.
XCEL 
Leave a comment