Three Points of Contact

Ryuji wiped off the sweat from his forehead as he ran along the track. His legs felt like lead and started to drag. If he could improve his stamina, he believed he would be able to improve his binding with his omamori. Then he might be matter when it counted.

His eyes scanned the school grounds, the main clock at the top of the school building just passed half past six and his long shadow was the only one in the field.

Yukiharu-san showed up for Monday and haven't shown up since. Masaki-san and Sayuri-san left soon after Mr. Yamaguchi called out for the last call.

He assured himself; he was confident his skills were there for the school curriculum. However, he felt he wasn’t sizing up to Yukiharu-san’s almost prodigal skill in Shinyo control. Her resonance was so strong, she broke four charms before the first midterm.

The omamori hasn’t spoken to him since the first binding and he hasn’t seen its eye in the iridescent shell since. Maybe he isn't worthy of the charm. To the spirit in the omamori, he's not worth looking.

He needed a breakthrough.

- - -

On his sixth lap, a long shadow cast over Ryuj - Dark green uniformed janitor was sweeping the track field.

After the eight laps, his legs decided to call it a day. He was drenched I sweat and wanted to collapse on the ground. He would have done so if not for the janitor. He slowly approached the fountain and leaned in for a sip.

"Working rather hard there, young man." The voice partially startled Ryuji, he didn’t notice the janitor approaching him.

Ryuji nodded and tried to catch his breath to reply.

"You're the one who saved the possessed teacher couple of weeks ago right? That was really brave of you."

Ryuji’s face flushed, “Thank you,” He answered. The janitor was setting aside the sweeper and leaning in for sip of water.

Then the janitor looked around the area. He slipped out a cigarette and put it on his mouth and offered Ryuji once he checked no one else was around. Ryuji shook his head. The janitor lit his and placed both of his hands like Buddhist monk. Ryuji felt like he’s thankful for not saying anything about him smoking in the school grounds.

“Good call. Never get started. It’s bad for you.” He puffed. “So what’s all the running around the field about?” The janitor turned his head to blow a smoke.

He wasn’t sure what to tell him. His unkempt stubbled beard and cigarette between his fingers gave him the image he wouldn’t know much about Shinyo. But his eyes reminded Ryuji of Yukiharu-san’s: usually calm and unassuming, but every so often, a sharp glint flashed there, like a blade hidden behind a thin smile.

He could be the one to give Ryuji the insight he dearly needed.

“I want to improve my stamina to keep my binding last longer.”

“Is it a special charm or something?”

“I don’t know, I got it as a gift.” He dunked his head under the fountain faucet’s running water. The coolness of the water jolted Ryuji with momentary energy.

“Maybe if you show me and describe things, it might help you figure something out in the process.” He said. “Oh, and keep this a secret from the other faculty members. I was almost at my wit’s end.” He lit another one and pressed the cigarette butt into the fountain and tossed it into the dustbin.

“It’s after school and Mr. Yamaguchi said we shouldn’t be binding without supervision.”

The janitor leaned against the fountain basin, “Why? It’s not like you’re doing something bad. I think you’re more than capable than a teacher who got possessed to tell you what to do.”

The way he said it made sense but something didn’t feel right about going against Mr. Yamaguchi’s words. Then he remembered he used his charm in the streets against the delinquents to protect his friends.

“It’s not a problem if nobody finds out right?” He nudged further.

Ryuji finally walked over to his bag to take out the broach. The janitor silently watched Ryuji bound and summoned a single scale on his palm.

“See, this scale is so small and already tiring.” He floated the shimmering scale on his palm. The janitor’s eye glinted at the word scale and he leaned forward to examine the shimmering piece.

“Neat, so why do you call it a scale and look like that?” He asked.

“Because the spirit within called it a scale. As for the shape… it’s because that’s what the broach looks like.”

The janitor hummed and scratched his chin, then flicked the cigarette butt off into the dustbin. He had a satisfied grin on his face.

“I once heard from a binder; your Shinyo’s limitation is set by your imagination.” He picked up his broom and stepped away from the fountain.

The janitor began by sweeping the grounds in his usual. After a few sweeps, his movements shifted - he adjusted his stance, mimicking the pose of a kendo and swung the broom like a shinai. Then he transitioned again, the broom turned into a guitar. Ryuji couldn’t help but chuckle at the display. The janitor finished his impromptu performance with a grand “ta-da” gesture, as if he had just completed a magic trick.

“I get bored, a man’s gotta live time to time.” He takes out another cigarette and stops himself, scanning the surroundings, then tucked it back in. “I guess I should get back to work. Thanks for indulging me with your Shinyo. Hope you overcome your challenge.” He slouched forward and picked up the dustbin.

“Thank you for the insight, mister…” He dismissed the scale.

“…Tanaka.” He pressed his palms together again as a greeting and walked off.

“Thank you Tanaka-san!”

Ryuji picked up his things and sat under the cherry tree.

- - -

Ryuji re-bound the charm to summon the scale once more under the tree’s shade. He looked around to make sure nobody was around. There was a hint of thrill mixed with guilt on what he was doing. He just wanted to get better at it, he’s not going to do anything beyond just summoning it. No real harm done here. He convinced himself.

He wanted to try what Mr. Tanaka demonstrated before he would forget. The challenge of using his charm so far has been its size.

At first he tried to imagine a bigger scale and he made it twice its size before the edges thinned and flickered out.

He summoned the scale again, this time focusing on its shape. The simplest form he could picture was a triangle. He closed his eyes and traced the outline of the dragon scale in his mind. A glimmering fan. He wasn’t sure why dragon came to mind, but the image felt right.

He concentrated, straightening the curves into a line and sharpening the angles in his new imagination. When he opened his eyes a equilateral triangle floated above his palm.

It worked. He wanted to jump up and cheer, like Yukiharu-san did. Then he quickly unbound the charm to hide the triangle. Maybe this is how she felt when she cheered. It was something she wanted to express but it was for her and for herself only.

He stood up and felt his head spin and vision blurred momentarily. He leaned his hand on the tree to steady himself. He packed and left the school after he recovered, drained.

The triangle felt more controllable. He felt he was stepping forward. His mind rushed on what he could try next during binding class – polygons? Number of triangles within the same size limit? The potential ballooned to infinite, if he could focus and imagine.

His step home felt light.

- - -

When Ryuji got home, his phone’s red light was blinking. He pressed play and wandered off to get changed.

“Minato-san,” Yukiharu-san’s soft voice squeaked from the little speaker. Ryuji fumbled over from the washroom to the answering machine in underwear. “I’ve been sick and wanted to… invite you over help me with some homework. Would tomorrow after school work for you? Give me a call at…”

He frantically looked around for a pen and paper.

The player clicked and he was reminded he could simply play it again.

He pressed play and while the tape wound back again, he wondered how she got his number.

Sayuri-san’s mischievous smile with finger on her mole popped up in his mind.

The recorder played again. Her voice was gentle and hesitant. Ryuji replayed the recording two more times to write down her number as neatly as he can. Writing Yukiharu on a piece of paper made his ears burn and heart pounded his eardrums.

He took out a small notebook from his backpack and looked up Sayuri-san’s number and dialed. Yukiharu-san’s voice lingered in his ears.

He tapped his pen against the notebook, eyes fixed on Yukiharu-san’s name and number as he waited for the line to connect.

“Natsume’s residence.” Sayuri-san’s clear voice cut through the static.

“Good evening Sayuri-san, it’s Minato.”

“Minachi!” she chuckled nervously. She knew what she had done.