Proof of Innocence

Hanako sat at the floor table as steam coiled from her mugicha, but the roasted tea’s smell didn’t reach her.
Her focus was split between geometric proof of two internal angles and proof of Minato’s innocence.

The air was tense; she could feel how aware Minato was of her as he leaned closer to Sayuri.

“Minato-san, can you help me with this?” She finally pushed the textbook to his side and scooted closer. Minato flinched.

“Oh, I didn’t get that one either, Hana-chan.” Sayuri bumped her shoulder with Minato.

The three of them crowded their heads over the textbook.

They silently stared at the math question. The symbols seemed to wiggle and crawl across the paper like worms. Minato drew extended lines and started to fill in the gaps, then tapped the paper with his pencil tip.

“You… you two are a bit too close.” Minato squirmed, and Hanako retreated.

She wanted to steer the conversation to ask him about his family and personal background. She wanted to hear his response. No Suiryu-kai and no Minato Kentaro in the answer. It had been almost an hour, and the only thing she had asked was a whether the x is 87 degrees.

This was a lot harder than she expected.

It hadn’t felt that way when she first called Sayuri two days ago.

- - -

“You want Minachi’s number?” Sayuri teased, her voice chirped over the phone.

Hanako hesitated. “I need help with homework.” A lie; it prickled her throat.

“You just want him over?” Her voice pitched, followed by a dubious hum. “Alright.”

Her call went to voice mail after five rings. She had prepared what she wanted to say, but her heart pounded when she spoke into the phone. She was inviting a potential enemy, but to the public’s eye this would look far more intimate. A romantic invitation.

She wished he wasn’t related to this war.

She really did.

But Hanako had to prepare for the worst.

The border clash with the Wanyudo-gumi escalated. Her involvement had made things worse. Minami said it wasn’t her fault. No one would have expected them to behave that way.

Minato called back the same evening; he’ll be visiting her place tomorrow after school.

She did not expect Minato to behave this way.

He invited Sayuri and Masaki.

- - -

Sayuri’s eyes drifted away from the textbook and toward Hanako as if she were asking for permission to initiate something Hanako might suffer through but that came from goodwill. Hanako blinked slowly at Sayuri as approval.

“My brain’s all scrambled. Let’s take a break.” Sayuri stretched and winked at Hanako. It had only been an hour. She pulled out four disposable wooden chopsticks from her bag and held them in her left hand.

“Let’s play the king’s game!” She shoved the chopsticks toward Minato’s face to draw. He chuckled nervously and drew one. Hanako narrowed her eyes at the two; seemed like they’ve planned this. Sayuri’s machination.

This might not be a bad idea for Hanako: some personal questions without raising Sayuri’s or Minato’s suspicion. As silly as it was, it was Sayuri’s innocent attempt to get the group closer. Hanako reached over for a chopstick and noticed Sayuri shift her hand to suggest the one on the far right. The two wrestled by moving their hands left and right before Hanako relented and picked the one Sayuri wanted.

“I am not playing this stupid game.” Masaki leaned back from the table.

“Ko-chan, if you win you could ask Hana-chan to do anything you’d want her to do. Anything.”

“Why do you make it sound so sleazy?”

“Or you can tell me to stop calling you Ko-chan.”

That got Masaki to reach for the chopstick in her hand.

“Who’s the king? Oh, it’s me!” Sayuri gasped, so telegraphed.

“Two and three must tell each other what they like about the other!”

Straight to the point, but not Hanako’s.

Hers was three.

She looked at Minato; he flashed his: one.

Masaki stared down at the chopstick with a single thick felt-pen line.

Sayuri messed up; it was written on her face.

“I like Masaki’s reliability,” Hanako said bluntly and looked at Masaki.

“I like how she is direct.” He said it with a downcast gaze.

“Oh, that’s a surprise. Are you blushing, Ko-chan? Next round.” She didn’t even give a moment for Masaki to respond. Miss schemer collected the chopsticks for a second round.

Masaki reached first. He really wanted to make Sayuri drop his nickname, or else he would have stepped out of the room.

“I guess I’m the king this time,” Minato said with a light head scratch. “Tell your king what your favorite pastime is.”

“I like reading horoscopes and learning about divinations!” Sayuri said out aloud.

“Going for a morning run.” Masaki answered dully and returned the chopstick.

“Hot bath with fruits,” Hanako answered, trailing her last word.

“And I like reading old ghost stories,” Minato added as he collected the marked chopsticks. He started the third round.

“Who’s the king?” Sayuri asked, and Masaki raised his hand.

He would definitely order Sayuri to stop calling him by his nickname.

Instead, he glared at the bold word king on the chopstick for a while, his eyes wandering between Sayuri and Minato.

Do what you want to do, Masaki.

“Tell your king… how you got your omamori.”

“That’s so boring,” Sayuri moaned. “We bought it together.”

She thanked Masaki for turning the question to omamori with a polite nod. Though she was tinged with slight guilt; She was sure he asked that question for Hanako.

“I got it from…” Hanako paused. She was about to tell the group about Yukikaze from her mother after she passed away. “I need to get a new one.” She adjusted; she had broken another one last week.

“Hana-chan, you should do something about that; you’re going to become the charm breaker in our class.”

“Mine was a gift but from a mystery person,” Minato answered. “The only person I can think of is my uncle, but he’s away right now.”

Hanako’s ears perked at the word uncle.

“Natsume, since we’ve all gone through king once, Hanako should be the next king,” Masaki called out. She could hear him emphasizing her surname harder than usual.

Sayuri felt the pressure and inched back from the table. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Tell your king… what your parents do for a living,” Hanako muttered.

Sayuri gawked and covered her mouth, darting her eyes at Minato. “So bold,” she squeaked.

“Runs a ramen shop,” Masaki answered first without missing a beat.

“Senior corporate accountant and housewife,” Sayuri said cheerfully.

Minato twiddled his thumbs. “Fishermen.” His voice crawled behind his throat.

“Traditional landlords and mediation,” Hanako said in a practiced manner.

“Next—” Sayuri tried to go for another round when Masaki stood up, lifted her under the arms like a child, and dragged her out of the room.

“Help, I’m being kidnapped! That tickles!” She giggled as she was dragged toward the door.

“Help me with getting more snacks.” Masaki nodded at Hanako, and she nodded back.

“You could have asked nicely, Ko-chan. Be right back—don’t have too much fun.” She waved and vanished behind the sliding door.

Hanako and Minato were finally together.

Alone.

The table suddenly felt large, and the distance between the two stretched even though their shoulders would touch if she leaned forward. Minato focused on the homework and fixed his eyes on the page.

She should press on and just get this over with. She wasn’t sure why she was hesitant to ask him a question. Sayuri’s constant teasing must be getting to her, Hanako thought.

It was more concrete than that.

She was afraid—what if he was related to Suiryu-kai?

They would have to fight against each other sooner or later if he was invovled.

“Yukiharu-san…” Minato called her softly. “Are you alright?”

Hanako raised her chin and saw Minato’s face. She really saw him, as if for the first time. His brown eyes, as much as her own, drew her in. His nose and lips were well defined, and for a moment she held her breath, wondering what made him look different today. Maybe it was the way he looked at her—full attention and concern. The soft early evening light through the tinted window warmed the room.

She felt her heartbeat thrumming in her ears.

“I… have a dilemma. Maybe it’s just in my head. I don’t know. I just hope it’s not something that will come back and bite me. I’m just rambling.”

She knew what she had to bring up, but somehow she wanted this moment to last longer—saying what was really on her mind would shatter it.

“I think that’s okay,” he replied, voice slightly uneven.

Thre was a creaking of the wooden floor outside, but she wanted to keep her attention on Minato.

She wanted to ask about his uncle but felt it wasn’t the right time; duty, fear, and yearning tugged her chest in a stalemate.

“I feel that way too. Like saying both of my parents are fishermen is something to be ashamed of. I suppose it isn’t, but something in me doesn’t want to share it with others. Do I stink like fish? Do I need to be a fisherman myself to follow their path?”

Hanako almost smiled. “I think… family expectations are always heavy. Sometimes I wonder if I’m only allowed to be who my family wants me to be.”

Minato nodded, a little more at ease. “My uncle always said I should find my own way. He always got me interesting things whenever he visited. I think he’s the one who sent me the charm.”

The serenity cracked with the two words: uncle and charm.

Her lips tightened. Fear reared its head and pulled through duty and yearning.

“Your uncle sent you the charm?”

He nodded, head slightly tilted. She wanted to ask, but the intimacy of the moment made her cautious.

“Is he… from Chiba also?” She tried her best to sound gentle and casual.

Minato blinked a couple of times. “Yeah, Uncle Kentaro travels a lot but always sends interesting things whenever he finds one.”

The sarashi wraps tightened around her chest as she heard the name Kentaro. Minato Kentaro—the last wielder of Suiryu-no-oroko, now in Minato Ryuji’s hands—had the same name, and he was currently hiding.

“He travels a lot?” Her voice trembled, her hand moving up to her chest as if to steady herself.

“Yeah, he’s currently away right now. He usually visits once or twice a year. Is everything okay?”

She couldn’t answer; she felt her words would make things worse. She couldn’t undo what she had done to herself and to Minato. His eyes searched her face as he leaned forward. She leaned back. The sunset faded and dimmed.

She was about to answer when the sliding door opened and Masaki and Sayuri returned with more mugicha—both hot and cold—and cracker snacks.

“What are you two doing in the dark?” Sayuri probed, turning on the fluorescent light. The light flickered with a low audible buzz over their heads. Minato leaned away and looked aside.

Hanako had not heard their footsteps; they must have been listening in, and the earlier creaking must have been them by the door.

They finished the homework, but she felt she had ruined the moment she had with Minato and couldn’t look at him the same way for the rest of the evening.

She picked up the tray with leftovers and slowly walked to the kitchen. She sat by the large dining table and picked up the intercom.

“Minami, I have a lead on where Minato Kentaro … in Chiba.”