Chapter Nine Ren
Chapter Nine
Ren
What the…
All I can think is that I better not move or breathe because I’ll wake up and realize this is a fantasy. Because it doesn’t make any sense. Violet found out I’ve been to jail, and instead of staring at me in disgust, she…Is she going to kiss me?
If I kiss this girl, it’s going to wreck me. I’m going to be in that kiss forever and, once we leave here, she’s going to traipse off to a four-bedroom in the suburbs with a white picket fence and a guy who hasn’t been to jail. But holy shit. In this moment, I’ll let her wreck me good.
Then someone swoops in behind Violet.
The man from the creek. I’ve been wanting to find him, but this is when he shows up? What’s more, he’s staring at my fox like it’s the only thing in existence. Violet looks over her shoulder in surprise and steps back. Immediately, my fox goes dead. The man blinks. He turns, as though to leave.
“Hey,” I say, my tongue tangling. My brain is still going haywire. “Hey, wait.” The man lets out a huff and starts walking. My emotions, already wildly heightened, rise even more, confused and disordered. “Stop. I want to talk to you. I’m the one who saved your box.”
It works.
The man freezes in place, his back to us.
Then, slowly, he turns around. He comes over to us.
Violet takes another step away as he approaches.
The crack running down his cheek seems wider than it did at the creek.
It cuts deeply into his skin, flaying it open to reveal red muscle and tissue.
It’s a grisly sight and a sudden wave of nausea runs over me.
He peers closely at me. It’s the first time he seems to register that I’m the owner of the fox.
“You’re the mortal who saved my box?” he asks, and there’s reproach in his voice, as though I’ve confessed to stealing it.
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I did. And I’ve seen you since. Makes me wonder who you are.”
The man’s lips tremble with great emotion.
Next to me, Violet exhales sharply. Redness gathers in the man’s face behind its glow.
He mouths two words. Then, as though they are being yanked from him by a fishhook, he chokes out, “Thank you.” Immediately, he clamps his hands over his mouth, eyes wide with horror.
His gold earring flashes and swings rhythmically like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.
“Oh.” I’m startled. It took this guy so much effort to say the words, you’d think he was going to tell me I’m his long-lost son or something. “Uh, sure thing.”
“I’ve debased myself,” he whispers. “Oh, how far I’ve fallen.” He turns his head to the sky and lets out a howl, the same one he did at the creek. We’re tucked back on the side of the warehouse, but people passing by the front glance over in alarm.
“Hey, calm down,” I say. The general modus operandi of everyone here is to keep our heads down—myself especially. This guy, however, begs for attention at every turn. “I just want to know who you are…and what you can do.”
“Tea.” He turns to me, eyes suddenly as eager and bright as headlights. “I shall serve you tea, and this torturous dance you’ve begun may end.”
“Torturous dance?”
“You helped me. You saved my box.” This guy is as unpredictable as a coin flip, mood changing every few moments.
“I must give you something. Tea it is. Please keep it a secret.” He looks suspiciously around and steps close to me.
I don’t like him crowding me, but I refuse to show any weakness.
Fishy breath mixed with something sweet hits my nose.
I wince. “If word ever got out that I was beholden to a mortal, I would be the laughingstock of the cosmos. Even more than I already am.”
“Laughingstock of the cosmos?” Violet asks. All her attention fixes on the man in a mixture of curiosity, shock, and hesitation. But there’s something else, too. A sort of pointed focus like she has a plan. “You’re a yōkai, aren’t you?”
Delight dances through the man’s face, so sudden that it chases away the anguish.
“I am more than that.” He casts his head back and strikes a commanding pose, inviting us to gaze upon him. “I am a god.”
So it’s true. I’ve known magic is real ever since Papa gave me the fox and it came alive in my hands shortly after he left. I’ve worn it around my neck, clutched it too hard. Guess I’ve never doubted it, but I also never considered if there was, well, more of it.
“You must be shocked.” The man continues to hold his theatrical posture, like we’ll start worshipping him or something.
“All you mortals are when you learn who I am. You look the same to me, but there are certain ones I like.” Abruptly, he drops his pose and slinks toward us.
“Ones who are like the ocean, always moving, never still, no matter how tepid the day is. Their minds hop like birds from one thought to another and their hearts are jittery, as though full of—What is that mortal drink called? The eternal waking brew?”
“Coffee?” Violet supplies helpfully, still sounding breathless.
“Their hearts are jittery, as though full of”—the man pauses for emphasis—“coffee.” He makes it sound like coffee is a sacred tonic, not mass-produced by Folgers.
“I stir these sorts of mortals up so they are fully themselves.” His eyes slice over to me.
“You are one of them. Perhaps that is why you saved my box.”
“Don’t think so,” I say sharply. I don’t like people telling me what I am. I don’t need anyone else’s opinion on the matter. “I was cooped up from being on the bus, went for a walk, and picked up the box on the way.”
“You lie,” the man hisses. “You were injured on my behalf.” I glance sidelong at Violet.
I’m surprised to find she’s staring at me, not this one-ring circus in front of us.
I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and it makes me uneasy.
“Oh, this is outrageous. A god never needs the help of an impertinent mortal. I was merely napping. I would’ve fetched the box before we left, no help needed from you. ”
“Napping, huh?” I ask. “Since when do naps start with a blow from a billy club?”
“Since when do stupid immortal boys think they understand a god’s slumber?” To his credit, the guy sufficiently mimics my tone, adding a singsong note that makes it extra-insulting. “Now. I shall give you tea tomorrow.”
“Sounds great,” I say. “Tea it is.”
I wonder if things are actually shaking out in the right direction somehow. This guy—god—seems to think he owes me something, just as I hoped. Well, tomorrow I’m going to tell him it’ll take more than tea to make us square.
“Wonderful,” Violet interjects. “We’d love to have tea.”
Apparently, she’s joining us. She bows deeply in reverence.
I’m not sure what her angle is, but holy shit, I can tell she has one.
I wonder if she has the same plan I do. She needs her father here.
Maybe this guy can help us both…and then maybe we can pick up where we left off before he showed up as the God of Pleasure Prevention.
“You’d be most welcome, wise mortal girl,” he says. “Perhaps you can teach your companion how to act in the presence of the divine.”
“I’ll try, but it might be difficult,” Violet says, and her gaze falls on me.
Her eyes flash deviously, and I realize she’s teasing me.
I shuffle, hating how she always seems two steps ahead of me.
All right, if I’m honest I kind of love it.
I think what I really hate is knowing her attention is a time bomb.
It’s just a matter of when it detonates and she decides to have nothing to do with me.
“Come to my chambers tomorrow,” the god says.
“Your chambers?” I eye him doubtfully. “You got the penthouse suite here?”
“Not quite.” His lips purse in a pout. Dolefully, he says, “Block three, barrack two, apartment four. I shall give you tea. Once I do, our entanglement shall be dissolved.”
With that, he turns on his heel, his black hair swaying with every step. Yeah, I’m going to want a lot more than just petits fours and Earl Grey from him.
“Wait!” Violet calls. He doesn’t stop. “What’s your name?”
“You may call me Akira.” His words are carried on a hot breeze as he stalks away, disappearing around the warehouse’s corner.
For a moment, we stare after him. Then we look at each other. I feel the same awe I see in Violet’s eyes. The guy is a god. We’re going to have tea with him tomorrow.
“Akira…” Violet repeats his name. “Can you believe it? He’s a god, Ren. A god.”
“Maybe you’re thinking the same thing I’m thinking,” I say. “There’s gotta be a way to get Akira to help us, right? Make sure Emi is okay. Get your father here.”
Violet leans toward me, as though we’re in some sort of conspiracy together. Her eyes were flashing with wonder but now they flash with an intensity that steals my breath.
“Yes.” Her hand is suddenly on my arm, her fingers insistent and present.
I almost glance down but she’s so close, I can’t tear my eyes from hers.
I also can’t seem to fully breathe. “Maybe if we help him or give him something, he’ll help us in return.
He doesn’t seem like the type to give blessings easily.
” I think about Akira’s distress at being indebted to me.
My hand travels to my fox, recalling his fixation on it.
If he wants it, then maybe I have everything I need.
Violet glances at the sky. “Oh, for the love of Sam Hill. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.
I need to hurry back. Mama gets upset if I’m not where I’m supposed to be. ”
“I can walk you over,” I say. “Carry your laundry.”