Ink

stay away from him the last time I touched him—I pulled my hand back. “Why did you transfer schools?”

“You ask too many questions, Greene.” His pen traced the edge of the horse’s leg.

“Katie.”

“What?”

“My name is Katie.”

Tomohiro’s hand froze, and his cheeks started to turn a deep crimson. I’d been in Japan long enough to know what I was saying. A first-name basis was a step up the relationship ladder. “I’m a gaijin, remember?” I added quickly. “I’m not used to being called my last name. Don’t you usually call gaijin by their first name anyway?”

He paused a moment, and I realized I shouldn’t have said it. I was moving too fast—just because I felt something for him didn’t mean he felt something for me, right? But then his hand began to move again, drawing the lines slowly as if he feared they would jump off in directions he couldn’t control.

“All right, Katie,” he said, and for the first time I relished the sound of my name on his lips. So rich, so lovely, so safe.

He didn’t sound dangerous, not here. I leaned back on the grass, watching the clouds float over the ancient city, wondering what tangled mess I’d gotten myself into.

“So you’re not going to tell me what happened?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“Then because it’s not your business.”

“You always say that.” I rolled my eyes.

“Because it’s true,” he said. And then he closed the book and lay down beside me in the soggy grass. Every breath became shallow as I focused on the fact that he was right beside me. His knee pressed against mine by accident and I pulled away. A moment later I sat up.

“A-re?” he said in surprise. Then he sat up with a wolfish grin on his face. “Are you scared of me, Katie?” He rolled onto his knees and pressed his hands into the grass, leaning forward so his face almost reached mine. I could feel his warm breath on my skin. My stomach grew wings and battered around my insides. He wasn’t going to… I mean, he wouldn’t try to kiss me, would he?

I didn’t want him to.

I wanted him to.

God he was beautiful. Dangerous things usually are. What the heck was I playing around with?

“Who’s Koji?” I blurted out. Tomohiro froze, his eyes gleaming from behind his bright copper bangs. And then he pressed backward with the palms of his hands and stood up.

“Fuck,” he said, walking a few steps away.

I got to my feet, my legs shaking. Tomohiro ran his hand through his hair.

“Who told you about him? Ichirou?” His voice was like stone.

“Yeah,” I said. “Tanaka did.”

A long pause.

“Koji was my best friend,” Tomohiro said. “I didn’t mean to… God, there was so much blood.”

“How could you do that to your best friend?” I asked quietly. Tomohiro spun around, a wild look on his face. He was frightening again, like he’d been at kendo.

“It’s not like that!” he shouted. “It’s not what everybody thinks.” He fell to his knees, folding his head into his hands.

“They don’t know what happened,” he said quietly.

“Then tell me,” I whispered. “I’ll listen.”

He didn’t say anything. Then, “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t, okay?” he snapped. “We were messing around, and he got hurt.”

“But Tanaka said—”

“Tanaka knows shit!”

“If it was an accident, why didn’t Koji say so?”

“He did, but they didn’t believe him. No one would.”

I took a breath. “Okay, so it was an accident. I believe you.

Chill out, okay?”

Tomohiro looked over at me, then pressed his palm against his forehead. “I’m gonna kill Ichirou for telling you.”

I smirked. “I would’ve found out from someone else eventually.”

“Ha.” Tomohiro laughed, and then he grinned. “I wouldn’t expect less from you. I just wish you wouldn’t think about all that too much. You know, my past and stuff. Can’t you just forget it?”

“What do you mean?” I said. That glossing over the past meant there was some bad stuff there.

“I mean can’t I just like a girl without it getting so complicated?” He raked another hand through his hair, shaking his head a few times, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat in my ears. Then he turned to look at me, his brown eyes deep and unafraid. The breeze was chilly against my dew-soaked back, but all I felt was warmth. I wanted to ask what he’d said, to hear it again, but the words lodged in my throat.

“You mean Myu?” was what escaped. Tomohiro didn’t even grin. He just moved forward, looking intense.

“What I mean is…” he said. “Ore sa.” His voice was made of honey. “Kimi no koto ga…” About you, it meant. I, you know, I…

And his keitai phone went off, and we both jumped away from each other. He flipped it open, cursing under his breath.

He stared at the name, his finger hovering over the button.

“I… Sorry, I have to…”

“It’s okay,” I said, and he pushed the button. I felt like I was floating. This couldn’t be real. My mind repeated over and over what he’d said. Can’t I just like a girl? About you, I, you know…

He clicked the phone closed, his bangs sweeping over his eyes. “I have to go,” he said.

“Your dad?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he said. “I just have to go.”

“Some girl?” I joked, only I wasn’t joking.

“Maji de,” he said. “Are you the jealous type?” He flashed a mean grin.

“Shut up. I don’t care.”

“It’s Sato,” he said. “He’s in a situation.”

“Oh.” And it hit me yet again that I had fallen for the wrong guy. A dangerous guy, going to help his gangster friend.

“I’ll— Listen, give me your keitai number.” And he held up his phone and flipped it open. “Please?”

I reached for mine, pretty sure this wasn’t what Diane had in mind when she got it for me. I pushed a few buttons and the infrared sent my number over to his phone with a beep.

Another beep, and I had his.

“Yosh,” he said, clicking it shut and shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nodded, and he nodded, and then I nodded again. “Okay, jaa, ” he said, and then he headed toward our bikes. He only got about five steps before he tripped, but he kept going, cursing under his breath.

Well, at least we were both feeling awkward. I’d thought he only had one mode, and it was suave.

I ducked under the fence and grabbed my bike, walking alongside it as I watched Tomohiro cycle out of sight. If he was so dangerous, why did I feel like I might float away?

Too late to step away now. I wanted to see what was going on.