Ink

Ishikawa wrapped one arm tighter around Tomohiro. He tried to wrap the other and yelled out when he couldn’t.

“It’s burning,” he rasped. “I-te, i-te!”

“It’s okay,” Tomohiro said. “Let’s go.”

The crashing sound got louder, and suddenly the whole shouji door collapsed into the room, a serpent as tall as me hissing at the shrieking Yakuza.

Ink dripped off his fangs and pooled on the floor.

And behind him, a man dressed in black, blond highlights tucked behind his pierced ear.

What the hell?

Takahashi Jun.

Chapter 16

“Katie!” Jun yelled. He ran toward me, grabbing me by the shoulders; and even though ink-sketched snakes were swarming the room, even though a giant serpent slithered toward the shrieking Sunglasses, all I could feel was the heat of his palms through the cotton of my shirt.

“Daijoubu ka?”

“I’m fine,” I said, “but what—? How—?”

“Yuu,” he said, and at first I thought he meant you, but then he let go of my shoulders and walked toward Tomohiro, taking Ishikawa’s other arm and draping it over his back.

“Takahashi,” Tomohiro said, staring at the giant snake cornering Sunglasses on the other side of the room. “You…

made these?”

“We need to go. Now,” said Jun, and just like that he and Tomohiro started dragging Ishikawa to the collapsed rice-paper door.

I hurried after them, leaving behind the shrieks of the Yakuza and hisses of snakes that buzzed in my ears.

We wound through the building, moving as quickly as we could. Ishikawa groaned as the other two shouldered him through the narrow hallways.

My mind buzzed with the same thoughts over and over.

Because I knew Tomohiro didn’t draw any snakes.

We came out in the same garage; there was the truck. But the garage door was in pieces on the ground, puddles of thick ink oozing across the floor.

“Come on,” Jun said, leading us through the gaping hole of the garage. The humid summer air hit as I stepped out into the smell of night flowers and the hum of vending machines. In the dark, three motorbike engines revved to life and I blinked as the beams of light splayed onto the walls.

Three people dressed in dark clothes straddled the bikes, hands on the handles and helmets shining my reflection back at me. One of the riders carried a beat-up-looking navy duffel bag—I knew it instantly. Tomohiro’s kendo bag, which meant they’d started searching for us at Sunpu Park.

Tomohiro jumped back, but Jun slipped out from under Ishikawa’s arm and raised his hands.

“It’s okay,” he said. “They’re with me. Oi! ” he called to one of them. “We need to get Ishikawa to Kenritsu fast.”

“No,” Ishikawa gasped.

“Are you totally mental?” I snapped. “You’ve got a gun-shot wound, for god’s sake!”

“That’s the point,” Ishikawa said between breaths. “They’ll…

ask questions.”

“So, what, you’d rather die?”

“Satoshi, go to the hospital,” Tomohiro said.

“Yuuto—”

“Please, Sato.”

“I’ll take him,” said one of the riders. She lifted the helmet off her head and held it under her arm. “I’ll cover the questions.”

How is she going to do that? I wondered. But the girl reached out her arm and helped Tomohiro hoist Ishikawa onto the back of the bike.

“Can you hang on?” she asked.

Ishikawa didn’t answer, but the weight of his body pressed against her back. She revved the engine and zoomed into the darkness, Ishikawa slumped over as they went.

“Katie,” Jun said, gesturing to another of his companions,

“go with Ikeda. She’ll take you back to your aunt’s place.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I don’t think they’ll come after you. Ikeda will stay with you if you’re worried.”

I stared at Jun. I definitely appreciated the fact that he’d followed up on my call, busted us out of Yakuza hell and was now giving us an escape, but I had questions burning in my mind that wouldn’t go away.

Why didn’t he call the police?

How did he know where to find us?

Where the hell did those snakes come from?

“I’m not sending Katie home alone,” Tomohiro said.

Jun grabbed a fourth motorbike, shiny black and parked in the shadows of the Yakuza building. He swung his leg over and revved the engine to life.

“Yuu, you may still be in danger. If you stay near Katie, she is, too. Get it?”

Tomohiro balled his hands into fists and looked down at the pavement.

“You don’t get it,” I said. “I’m in danger whether he’s near me or not.”

“What do you mean?” Jun said.

“Nothing,” Tomohiro said.

“Look,” said Ikeda, “we can’t stick around here.”

“Yuu, come with me,” said Jun. “I know somewhere safe you can go for now.”

The anger and fear boiled inside me. I couldn’t take it anymore, all of them talking like I wasn’t there, like I wasn’t part of this. Wasn’t it me that snuck into Toro Iseki with Tomohiro, watched him sketch the dragon and the wagtail and the horse? I’d been through just as much as him. I’d seen the way he struggled between his passion and his curse.

What had Cigarette said? I was an ink magnet. I was making the ink do things. Niichan said I was connected to the Kami. I was definitely part of this, and there was no way I could just go home.

I walked up to Jun and sat behind him on the bike.

“Wherever you’re taking Tomohiro, I’m damn well going, too.”

Jun stiffened, the bike idling underneath us, kicking up smelly fumes that flooded my nose.

“Jun,” Ikeda urged. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Okay,” Jun said at last. “Hold on.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his waist. His skin was warm and hard through his shirt, and I knew Tomohiro was staring at me as he sat on the bike behind Ikeda. I kept looking forward, not letting him know I saw him watching.

What was I supposed to do, let go of Jun and fall off the bike?

Jun only had one helmet, and he plunked it down on my head before we took off. We lurched forward into Shizuoka traffic, zipping in and out of the lanes. I’d never ridden on a motorbike, and before I knew it, I was pressing myself against Jun, my knuckles white as I clutched at his shirt rippling in the humid breeze.

“Where are we?” I shouted over the roar of the engine.

“Yakuza meet-up place in Aoi Ward,” Jun said. The red light turned blue-green and we raced forward. “About an hour from Shizuoka Station.”