The Pink Onesie #2
"It will be a Fangs party. What she did with you all was merely practice. She wanted to make sure that our celebration would be top notch."
“I must agree.” Yoichi inclined his gold kitsune in agreement. "It will be a Fangs party with significantly better music."
"And better women," Satoshi added flatly.
"And better food," Rin finished. "Our Tiger is undoubtedly planning the menu as we stand here."
Reo raised one finger. “Not to disappoint anyone, but. . .my birthday is coming up so. . .if you’re invited to our Tiger’s Cheese party first. . .well. . .know that the Fangs party will happen after. Have patience.”
Several chuckled.
Beside me, Kenji groaned in annoyance. "She is not planning anything. She has other concerns tonight."
"Respectfully, Kenji. Tora is planning." Kaoru's voice carried perfect confidence. "She is in that basement right now with a notebook making lists. Hors d'oeuvres. Signature cocktails. A theme. Probably a color palette."
Yoichi chuckled.
Kaoru continued, "She is a woman of impeccable taste. She knows we are the Dragon's Fangs. She knows what we deserve. She understands the hierarchy."
Satoshi nodded. "And we must have her grandmother at the Fangs party too. She’ll be an honorary guest. I’ve already put in the special order for her grandmother’s gifts that I. . .hope her grandmother will like."
“Enough.” Kenji let out a breath behind his mask that landed somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “We are at war right now.”
I rolled the lollipop against my back teeth and shook my head behind the Hannya.
Fools. All of them. Our Tiger knows better.
Nyomi had learned. She had been corrected. She understood the hierarchy now and would not betray it twice. Our Tiger was sitting in that basement at this very moment with her notebook, drawing little claws beside our names, planning the menu for the Claws Cocktail Party: Part Two.
The elegant sequel.
There would be cornbread drizzled in hot honey for Toma.
There would be macaroni and cheese in a small ceramic dish for Aki and Yuki, with two spoons and a large bowl for Reo.
There would be glazed yams in warm bourbon butter for Daisuke.
There would be something pristine and beautiful for Kaede on a white plate with no crumbs.
And most of all. . .there would be a single perfect lollipop for me. Gold. With my name on the stick in her pretty handwriting.
The Fangs could fight us for it.
We would win.
I almost smiled behind my mask as I shifted my eyes to my brother. He stood on my right with his mask still in his hand. The Wanyūdō stared up at him from his palm.
All I could do was study my brother’s face.
Same set of his jaw.
Same flat black eyes.
Same silhouette.
But underneath all of that, the foundation of Kenji had shifted.
I could not name or describe this shift. I could only feel it the way one experienced an earthquake in a bedroom— the wall, ceiling, and furniture looked the same, but the building had changed because of the vibration and nothing would ever be the same for that space again.
Why does he smell different? Where did those lines on his palms come from? What the hell did the Silent Ones do to my brother and our Tiger?
I shifted the lollipop against my back teeth. The candy went a little softer. I lifted my eyes higher.
Then, I felt something else among us.
What is that? I’ve had that odd sensation around me since I woke up.
Above the canopy, above the high branches where the moon laid silver across the topmost leaves, I felt a presence.
A pressure.
A displacement.
Air that had shape.
But, I could not see anything.
The sky stayed black. The clouds stayed where they were. The moon kept its slow climb. But the air above us was wrong, and my chest knew it, and the hair at the back of my neck knew it, and my teeth knew it.
Is that the dragon-shadow? Can my brother actually control that thing? Or has he become as crazy as me?
Still, Kenji looked at the field calmly while something massive moved above us in the dark.
A colder thought slid in beside the first one.
It might be nothing at all.
The way the ghosts might be nothing. The way the woman with her wrists open on the third-floor landing of my father's mansion might have been nothing. The way the man with the wrong neck in the wine cellar might have been nothing.
The way Nura, smiling with the bullet hole at her temple, might be nothing.
No. She is. . .everything. . .even her ghost. . .if anything. . .that is the one ghost that is real.
I had spent my entire life unable to answer that one question.
Real. Or in my head. Both possibilities weighed exactly the same in my chest. Both terrified me equally.
And right now I really needed to know the answer because.
. .on the field a ghost baby crawled, and I did not want that to be real either.
Yes. This must all be my imagination because if this is true then a little baby died tonight on this island. . .and I don’t know if I can survive that information.
The lollipop went sweet again. Honeyed yuzu rolled across my tongue with that clean white-peach finish.
And I watched the ghost baby girl as she crawled onto the field, absolutely curious about the world around her.
She had light brown skin and black curly hair that glowed in the silver of the moonlight. A pink onesie covered her little body. Both chubby hands moved across the grass in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
One hand.
Then the other hand.
Then the tiny knee.
Then the other knee.
Blood dripped down her adorable face. It was a thin dark line from her right temple, across her cheekbone, and down to her jaw.
The blood was wet.
Fresh.
And I could smell it from here.
A cold shiver ran through me.
This ghost is wrong. Why is this happening to me?
The lollipop stopped moving in my mouth.
I scanned everyone else’s faces—the Claws, the Fangs, Reo, and Kenji, even some Scales. No one else saw that sweet little baby girl on the field.
God. . .stop showing me these things. Please.
I put my gaze forward.
The baby reached the middle of the field, stopped, and sat back on her chubby haunches. Then, she looked up, and her eyes found my face across the distance.
No. Don’t look at me. I don’t like that. It hurts my heart.
A breath caught in my chest and refused to leave.
She had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen.
Dark.
Loving.
Deep.
Calm.
Eyes that had never learned what fear was.
Eyes that watched me across the grass with the patient curiosity of a child who had wandered into a room full of adults and felt entirely safe.
Eyes that reminded me of our Tiger.
Eyes that made me want to walk out onto that field of our armed enemies, pick her up, tuck her against my shoulder, and let her safely sleep there.
I wanted to wipe the blood off her cheek with my thumb.
I wanted to ask her whose baby she was, and where her mother and father had gone, and whether anyone had ever told her how beautiful her eyes were.
She blinked at me.
And then she was gone.
I breathed slowly through my nose, and my eyes watered.
There was a seed of truth in my chest that was trying to rise. It was trying to plant deep in my heart and grow. Trying to bloom into the facts of who she was, but I would not allow myself to give it sun and nutrients.
No. . .whoever you are. . .don’t come back again. It hurts to see you. I have to fight tonight.
The lollipop went sweet on my tongue again.
I shifted my eyes back to the field.
A ripple moved through Akiro's men. It started at the left edge of their formation and spread right.
Voices stopped mid-shout. Guns lowered from the air. Men turned their faces upward and squinted at a sky that held only the moon and the clouds.
One man near the front of their formation dropped to a knee and stayed there with his rifle pointed to the sky.
They saw nothing.
But they had felt something just like I did.
Yes. . .I think Kenji really has control of this dragon-shadow.