Chapter Three: Chocolate and Secrets

 Winter break ended in early January. I also lost my last baby fang around that time. I hoped that my new fang won’t grow in deformed since it would be growing in while I’m in human form. I brought this concern to Aunt, and she said, “Don’t to worry about it. I’m sure it will be a beautiful fang when you return to your dragon form.”

That made me feel a little bit better, but I still had to examine it. I may have stayed off the human pill long enough to revert to dragon form for a little while. Just long enough to see how my fang looked, and to my relief Aunt was right. My new fang was going to be wonderful! However, letting myself return to my dragon form in their small space wasn’t a good idea. If I were a full-sized dragon, the walls would’ve broke under my weight, the tip of my tail would be two neighbors to the left, and my head would be two neighbors to the right. As a young dragon, I just felt like a contortionist. I knew how big we were compared to humans; I just forgot! My host family didn’t hold it against me for pressing them all against the wall though.

My lost baby fang returned to its true form shortly before I did, and unlike me, it stayed in its true form. I carved the kanji for “family” onto it, and gave it to Hana. She was the one who managed to get unsquished and return me to my human form.

It was pretty easy to fall back into the school routine. After school, Saki asked me how my winter break was, and I told her. She, in turn, told me about her winter break. Apparently, she and her family went to a ski lodge.

“That sounds like fun,” I said. “I wish I could’ve gone! I don’t know how to ski though.”

“Maybe I’ll ask my parents if I can take you next time,” Saki said. Then she whispered, “I’ll teach you how to ski” with a blush.

“Thanks.” I wasn’t sure why she whispered that. Maybe skiing was something kids our age where expected to know how to do. I decided to get the opinions of Ms. Nishi and my host family.

All Ms. Nishi said was, “No. I’m in my twenties and still never went skiing.”

When I got home and asked Aunt about it, she said, “Don’t ask me. Just because I feel in love with a human and spend my winters with him doesn’t mean I know everything about humans. My husband and children occasionally go skiing, and I’ve watched others ski. But that doesn’t mean all humans know how to do it.”

Hana added, “Some of us can. I’m ok at it. I have a few classmates who go skiing every year, and some that have never skied at all. The same can be said about your classmates. Dad told me that the first time he went skiing was when he was in middle school. Why do you ask anyway?”

I told then about Saki.

“She likes you,” Hana said as if that explained something. My dragon family likes me. My host family likes me. My friends like me. They don’t whisper and blush when looking at me! (I would learn more about girls liking boys come February fourteenth, but I still have a few more January incidents to go through.)

One day, when my class had music, I looked through my desk, and realized I forgot my recorder. I mentioned this to Junichi when we were walking to the music room, and he said, “You don’t need it. We’re all singing today.”

A few of our classmates overheard and started laughing, which embarrassed me farther. Junichi told the laughing classmates to shut-up, and told me not to worry, we all forget sometimes. That made me feel better, but my class continued to joke about it for a while after that, which wasn’t exactly reassuring. They started to pick on Junichi as well for being my friend.

On an unrelated note. One morning, an older woman I vaguely recognized popped into our classroom, and told my homeroom teacher that she wanted to talk to her after school. My classmates all looked puzzled, and started muttering amongst themselves. I asked Junichi who that woman was, and he looked surprised that I didn’t know for half a second.

“Principal Fujimaki,” Junichi explained. “And she doesn’t usually interrupt class unless it’s something really important.”

We learned what that really important thing was the next day. The principal, apparently, keeps snacks in her office, and she caught three kids stealing her snacks (they also stole some money). One of which was our class troublemaker, Takeru Ishihara. The other two were Rintaro Ishihara (a sixth grader, and Takeru’s older brother) and Aiko Itazu (a fifth grade girl). No one seemed surprised that the Ishihara brothers were involved, but Aiko’s involvement seemed to turn a few heads. Because of this incident Principal Fujimaki had a meeting with the Ishihara brothers, Aiko, their parents, their teachers, and Vice-Principal Hiramoto. I didn’t witness this meeting, but I did get to hear about it.

“Theft!” I said. “I get that Takeru’s a troublemaker, but don’t you think—”

“The Ishihara brothers have probably been stealing since the day they could walk,” Junichi explained to me. “Why do you think no one’s surprised by this?”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“I know. Why do you think the school’s punishing them?”

“Is it enough though?”

“That’s neither yours or my decision to make.”

I took a deep breath, he was right. It wasn’t my decision to make, and if we continued this conversation I might say something foolish. I almost went into a rant on my opinions on thieves, but I stopped myself. Instead, I decided to wait until they returned to school. Then I could pull them to the side or whisper to them. I would warn them about the dangers. That they risk becoming a dodomeki (from stealing money) or a sunaki (from stealing snacks).

Apparently, the fifth graders were less surprised about Aiko’s involvement in the snack theft then the fourth graders. Hana explained to me that there was a rumor among the fifth grade girls that Aiko was in a relationship with the older Ishihara brother.

When Kenji came home, Hana told him, “Something interesting happened at school today.”

“It involves the Ishihara brothers, doesn’t it?” said Kenji.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“It hasn’t been that long ago since I was at Hinotori Elementary, you know!”

Hana laughed, and I let out an uncomfortable chuckle. Then we told him what happened.

It was around this time that I told my friend, Junichi, that I was a dragon. I had a sleepover at his apartment. Away where we couldn’t be overheard. All I said was, “I’m a dragon. Born and raised in the spirit realm.”

“Ah,” Junichi said as if he suddenly understood something. He then asked, “And why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re my friend,” I said. And that was that.

“Listen. I have a secret too. I used to have an older sister.”

“Used to?”

“She committed suicide about a year ago. You see, ever since she was our age, well, ever since she was my age, she played softball. She was part of the softball team in elementary school and in middle school, and she chose a high school with a good softball team. However, she didn’t make the team. She tried out, but the couch told her that she didn’t make the cut. At first Mom, Dad, and I didn’t know about her rejection. She practiced by herself after school, you see. After a couple weeks, she went to the couch and demanded to try out again. The couch refused, ‘My decision is final.’ It was only then my sister told us about her rejection. She joined her school’s calligraphy club. She seemed happy there, but I guess she wasn’t. All her suicide note said was, ‘Thanks to you, I can make this pretty.’ I’m not sure what she meant by that. She could easily have been talking about the note itself, which she wrote with a calligraphy pen dipped in black ink. But I assume that she was referring to something else.”

“Thanks to the calligraphy club, I can make this note pretty. Thanks to the couch, I can make my death pretty. Thanks to my friends, I can end this with happy memories. You’re right, it could mean anything, ‘Thanks to you, I can make this pretty.’” I paused. “How old would your sister be if she were alive?”

“Seventeen. Mom and Dad decided to have me when she was seven.” Junichi was silent for a moment before continuing, “I don’t what else was going on with her. I know the softball thing was part of it, but I feel like there was something else going on too. Was she being bullied by her classmates or the calligraphy club? Was she rejected by a boy she liked? Did she even like boys? There’s so much I wish I knew, you know?”

“Do your parents know what else was going on with her?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Junichi started to cry.

I thought about offering to find her ghost, but then I realized I don’t even know if she became a ghost. I had seen ghosts in both the human realm and spirit realm. Ghosts are different from yōkai. Ghosts are transparent, dressed in white, and disappear at the lower legs. They’ll talk to you, if you acknowledge them. I could ask every ghost I see if they know Junichi’s sister, but without knowing whether or nor she became a ghost, I risk making a promise I couldn’t keep. She could’ve been reincarnated by now, or she could’ve gone to Lord Enma’s realm.

Before I could say anything, Junichi asked, “Do you think our meeting is fate?”

“I don’t know much about fate,” I admitted. “But I suppose it could be. Why do you ask?”

“You can see spirits, right?”

“Of course. Are you asking me to—”

“Only if you want to.”

Why is it we were thinking the same thing?

I asked my host family for advice on the situation.

“If she is a ghost,” Aunt said. “Then she’ll contact her family at her own time. If she’s been reincarnated or with Lord Enma, then you’ll just get your friend’s hopes up by suggesting you can find her. My advice is to just let it be.”

“It’s been a year,” said Uncle. “If you don’t tell your friend that you’re looking for his sister’s ghost, I see no harm in just looking. A whole year! If she did became a ghost and wants to talk to them, they clearly need help finding each other.”

“Time passes differently for ghosts and spirits,” Aunt explained. “It may seem like it’s been a whole year to her.”

“We could involve a nekomata,” Hana suggested. “They can raise the dead, can’t they?”

Aunt and I looked at each other uncomfortably. It’s true that nekomata can resurrect the dead, but the results are kinda ugly. Besides, the corpses that nekomata choose to resurrect can’t talk (not that one would want to talk to them anyway).

“Nekomata,” I said. “Don’t resurrect the dead so much, as um, reanimate them. They become, well um…”

“Walking mindless corpses,” Aunt continued.

“Zombies?” Kenji asked.

“Yes,” Aunt and I said together.