One day she may light a fire you won’t be able to put out

I don’t know what to do.

As soon as Kisaki drops me off in front of my house, I open Hinata’s chat – then close it right away, because ‘trying my best’ and ‘coming across as desperate’ don’t mesh well. So, for now, I decide it’s best to put off the overthinking for now and just go inside. Only it’s hard to forget anything when you’ve got a sister like I do.

“I take it your date went well?” she asks, from her position, splayed upside down on the sofa. There’s a half-eaten bag of chips beside her, the kind that the glucose sensor on her arm really doesn’t take kindly to. The mice party when the cat’s away, don’t they?

“Could’ve been better,” I say, sliding into the kitchen. The water filter’s empty. Typical.

“So, no sex?”

“What do I look like, you?”

“Checked a mirror lately?” Anna counters, lifting her hand, palm open. “By the microwave.”

Her insulin pen. White with pink accents. Crazy how she hasn’t changed it since she was five. I have half a mind to actually bring it to her, before remembering that the sooner I escape the conversation, the better. So, instead I resort to a precisely calculated underarm throw.

The pen slips through her fingers and lands on her exposed stomach. Can’t imagine it hurts, but she winces nonetheless.

“Dick. Could’ve just handed it to me.”

“Could’ve just got up,” I say pouring myself a glass straight from the tap. It tastes fine, if only slightly metallic. Old plumbing, I presume.

“Okay, your vibe’s off. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell that to someone you don’t share a face with.”

I turn around, finding her leaning over the armrest, staring at me with those puppy eyes I can’t ever lie to. I hate she knows I love her. Makes her never play fair.

“I’m – just a little nervous. Today ended weirdly.”

“Where did you go?”

“Out to eat.”

“Did you buy?”

“We each paid our share.”

“Did you talk?”

“A lot. Before, there and after.”

“And did you walk her home? This place is only nice during the day.”

“No,” I say, feeling her observation like a spear through my chest. “Didn’t get a chance to. Good night,” I start slowly up the stairs. Anna watches me go but says nothing to stop me. I guess years spent in the same house make it obvious when you want to be left alone.

I take a long shower, then work out for a while longer, and end with some breathing exercises I learnt from Tibetan monks. They’re meant to clear your head, but I still find myself tossing and turning in bed, staring at my phone. It’s close to midnight, Hinata hasn’t been online since this afternoon, and it’s killing me.

So, I make true on my promise and tell her just that.

Luca (23:57): I’m worried about you. Are you okay?

Seconds pass, then minutes, then an hour and the reply doesn’t come. And before I know it, I blink one time too many, and wake up the next morning. To a read receipt at 05:47 and not a word back.

I’m the first in the classroom. And the only one for a while. A long time spent drumming Seven Nation Army on my desk, an earworm I got from Anna over breakfast. I don’t mind it, though. Keeps me from spiralling into the abyss of my own mind.

I’ll be honest – I like Hinata. Not a crush, mind you. I just enjoy having her around. Exchanging one-liners. Getting swept in her dumb little games. She’s the fresh spot of colour on the monochrome canvas of my existence. But then – what am I to her?

Trouble.

Her ‘father’ is a mob boss, and mine is their greatest enemy. Our lifestyles are perfectly incompatible, and trying to make them even remotely fit will need a lot of effort and time. Time I’m not sure I even have.

Could be another month, or another year, but the reality is that I’ll be gone before long. And when I do go, father will make sure I sever all ties to Japan. It’s better that way, he always says. Safer for our family, no loose to track us down, and considerate to our friends – and lovers. How can they ever fill the void if we give them ghosts to hold on to?

And so, for the first time ever, I wonder – should I break it of now and save her the heartache down the road? It sounds good, merciful, rational. But just pondering it makes me irrationally sad.

I lean over my desk, burying my head in my arms. Soon, the door opens and stays open as footsteps start shuffling in and about. And just as the bell is about to ring, Daisuke enter as well, stage right. Crashing in the seat beside me, if only to wake me up.

“Rough night?” he asks in his mildly flippant, yet still compassionate tone. Still trying to figure out how he makes his asshole shtick likable.

“What do you want?” I growl back.

“To check up on you. You’ve been coming to school looking like roadkill for weeks now. People are talking, y’know?”

Splendid. All I need is for a teacher to get alerted and call my father. Not that he’ll answer, he never does, and that only ever makes things worse.

“Tell them I got IBS. And Japanese food makes that into insomnia.”

“Right. Definitely not Tachibana’s fault.”

“Why the hell would you even think that?”

“Well, for one, your response just now. Her outburst from the other day comes to mind, too. But if you’re still unconvinced, you’re staring at her empty seat.”

There’s no malice in his voice, but I still feel attacked. And it only hits harder when Kisaki enters and Hinata still hasn’t arrived.

Morning assembly passes like a kidney stone and when it ends, I lob Kisaki a glance. A short, but pleading one, and in return he gives me a glare. An unusually soft one, but a glare nonetheless. Subtly, he nods towards the door, Come with me, and I follow him out into the corridor and towards the teacher’s lounge.

We stop at the bottom of the staircase and slot right under it. Kisaki checks our surroundings, and assured we’re alone, lowers his voice to a whisper.

“You messed up the other day,” he says. “Oyama had to cash in a favour to stop the chief prosecutor from snooping around. Favour he was saving for the next mission. Now you must make up for it.”

His quick, hushed tones awaken something in me. He speaks like an operative, and I must reply like one.

“You made her wear her civvies on a mission. Sounds like a logistics blunder on your end.”

Kisaki squints, “You think I made her do that?”

“Wouldn’t see it any other way.”

“Then open up your eyes. The whole thing was her idea,” he spits, before a deep sigh. “Hinata’s always been impulsive, and it’s only gotten worse since you’ve shown up.”

I flinch, like I’ve just been seared with a branding iron. My own personal mark of shame, which brings me back to my earlier anxieties. Because if me being around isn’t doing her any good, then might as well –

“What do I do then?” I croak. “To help. To make things right.”

“Do better. And think before you act. Because one day she may light a fire you won’t be able to put out. One that you could’ve prevented. Do I make myself clear?”

I nod. Slowly, so he can see how serious I am about this.

“As for more actionable steps, I’ll be in touch,” he adds. “We were planning on testing you later down the line, but your recent actions have precipitated things. Expect your first assignment within the next 24 hours.”

And with all he wanted to say out of the way, he starts back up the stairs, leaving me to mull over my next move. But I can’t even begin to do that, until I find out –

“Where is she?” I ask.

There’s a short delay, Kisaki pondering if I’m worthy of knowing. But in the end, he finds no good reason to withhold it from me.

“She’s at the hospital with her mother.”

“Is she okay?”

“They’re both fine. Hinata should be back by lunch.”

“Why was she there in the first place?”

“That’s not my thing to share. She tells you that or no one else will. But with how close you two have gotten, I don’t expect you to be in the dark much longer,” he says and his lip curls up slightly – something I could call a smile. And it’s nice to think that the grim and laconic Kisaki may not be fully against me in all of this.

“Thank you, sensei,” I say with a slight tease. He picks up on it and doesn’t fully hate it.

“Don’t mention it. Now off with you. Maths’s starting soon.”

I nod and head off, returning to the class with a cautious pep in my step. Because even if things aren’t in the best of places right now, I’ve been given a task, a goal to work towards. And it’s a warm feeling – like all my chakras being unclogged.

But, as soon as I slide the door open, the fuzziness inside me turns cold and spiky.

Sitting cross-legged at my desk is a princess, back straight like a ruler, brown hair caught in an elaborate braid that only a maid’s hand could weave. Her pink cardigan and freckles give her an innocent look, one that soon sours as soon as she notices me. Like a leopard studying its prey, she watches me and, when I’m close enough she doesn’t have to raise her voice, she clears her throat.

“So, you’re the guy trying to fuck my best friend.”