Ink

Tanaka suddenly shot out his arm.

“Oh!” He pointed. “It’s Tomo-kun!”

You’ve got to be kidding.

I looked up, and there he was, leaning against the stone wall and chatting with a friend. The other guy had bleached his hair so white it looked like he was wearing a mop on his head.

“Introduce us!” Yuki squealed. “We can get the whole story about Myu!”

“Please don’t,” I whispered, but Tanaka was already running across the courtyard. Yuki grabbed my arm.

“Come on!” she said, squeezing my elbow and rushing us forward.

“Oi, Tomo-kun!” Tanaka shouted.

Yuu Tomohiro looked up slowly, his eyes dark and cold.

His friend sagged back against a tree trunk, watching us approach with mild amusement.

“It’s me, Tanaka, from Calligraphy,” said Tanaka, panting as he stopped beside them. He placed his hands on his knees and then gave Yuu a thumbs-up.

Yuu’s face was blank at first, but then remembrance flickered into his eyes.

“Oh,” he said. “Tanaka Ichirou.”

“This is Watabe Yuki and Katie Greene,” Tanaka said.

He didn’t reverse my name because gaijin never put their last names first. Yet another way I stood out. Yuki bowed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I squeezed my hands into fists and tried to do the same with my fear—I tried to squeeze it into anger.

Tomohiro didn’t bother to introduce his friend or say hello to us. He leaned his head forward slightly so his bangs fell into his eyes, then exchanged a side glance with Bleached Hair. I got the message—they wanted us gone.

But Tanaka didn’t clue in. He laughed, nervous, grasping for things to say.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” he said.

Tomohiro nodded, his bangs bobbing curtly. “You got taller, Ichirou.”

“Well, I had to fend for myself after you left.” Tanaka grinned before turning to us. “Tomo-kun used to get into fights over everything.”

Tomohiro smirked. “That hasn’t changed,” he said, staring directly at me.

So he was picking a fight with me. But over what? He was the one doing creepy stuff, not me. He ran a hand through his hair and looked over at Bleached Hair, who rolled his eyes.

Yuki spoke up. “Sorry about you and Myu.”

Tomo’s eyes snapped back to mine. I bet he was wondering how much I’d told. Was he worried I’d spilled about the drawing, too?

“Maa,” he said with a dramatic sigh, pressing his slender fingertips to his forehead. “Some people don’t know when to keep their mouths shut.”

Fire spread through me. “I didn’t say anything,” I blurted.

“My sister told me,” Tanaka said quickly. “Keiko’s in Myu’s homeroom.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tomohiro said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to cover for her. The whole school knows anyway.”

But it did matter. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right when he wasn’t.

“He’s not covering,” I said. “I have better things to do than gossip about you.”

“So you have a new girlfriend now?” Yuki piped up again.

She was determined to drag the gossip out at any cost.

Tomohiro tilted his head. “Why? Are you confessing?”

That’s what they called it here when you admitted you liked someone. Yuki turned bright pink.

“It’s—it’s not like that,” she said, waving her hand back and forth.

“Oh, her, then?” he said, motioning at me.

My heart almost stopped. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a joke,” Bleached Hair said. “Calm yourself.”

“Um,” Tanaka said, looking from Tomohiro to me and back with wide eyes. “Um, so are—are you going to join the Shoudo Club this year?”

A dark look crossed Tomohiro’s eyes. “I don’t do calligraphy anymore,” he said quietly.

“Tan-kun told us you were really talented,” Yuki bubbled, but Tomohiro took a step toward her, glaring at her from behind his bangs.

“I don’t paint anymore,” he said, and I wondered why he had to get so uptight about it. “It doesn’t interest me.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Tanaka said, laughing politely to smooth things out. “With me in the club, they need all the help they can get.” Tomohiro let out a small laugh, which only egged Tanaka on. “God help us if they put my drawings on display!”

“You did always draw the lines too thickly.” Tomohiro grinned. The storm in his eyes looked as if it had passed. I could see a faint image in my mind of what he must have been like in elementary school, when he and Tanaka had been friends.

“Sou ne…” Tanaka trailed off, staring into the distance, deep in thought. He tapped his fingers against his chin. “How do I fix it?”

Tomohiro gripped his fingers together, as if he were holding a paintbrush. “If you hold it like this,” he said, “with the right support here, and move like this…” His arm moved gently through the air, making light brushstrokes, and even I, who had no background in calligraphy—heck, even my school notes were illegible—could tell there was something more going on here.

“Try to load less paint on the tip of the brush,” Tomohiro said. “And move like this.”

Tanaka smiled and crossed his arms as he watched. “You’re really good, you know? A natural.”

Tomohiro’s arm stopped suddenly like a dance cut short.

It hung there in the air, rigidly, until he dropped it down to the side and shoved his hand into his blazer pocket.

“I told you,” he said sharply, “it doesn’t interest me anymore.”

Tanaka’s face fell while Bleached Hair leaned back into the tree, grinning. What the hell? I thought. Tanaka and Tomohiro used to be friends, and now he treated him like this?

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” I snapped. “Tanaka’s just trying to be nice to you.”

“Katie,” Yuki whispered, urgently squeezing my arm.

Tomohiro sneered. “You’re always sticking your nose in, aren’t you?”

“So are you. You’re everywhere I turn. What, are you a stalker, too, or something?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t stalk you.”

“Oh, I’m not your type, huh? You don’t like gaijin? ”

“I don’t like annoying girls who think they know everything.”

“Unless they have a skirt to look up, right?”

Tomohiro grinned, and my nerves flipped over. It was that same secret-alliance look. I almost expected him to wink like Jun had at the train station. I took a deep breath.

“So if you hate art so much, how come you had a sketchbook full?”

The grin vanished.

“And how come they move?”

“Move?” Bleached Hair said.

“That’s right,” I fumed. “I know you’re doing something.”

I looked at Tomohiro, and did he ever look pissed!

Good. I’ll finally get some answers.

“Oh, are you working on another of those animations, Tomo?” Tanaka said.

Tomohiro smiled.

No.

“He used to do these really neat ones on the edges of his notebooks.”

No! Don’t give him an escape hatch!