Chapter Sixteen Violet #3
The Nameless Faceless God is full of natural agitation and moodiness.
He seeks worship but cannot find any, as he is immaterial, having no voice by which to speak or body with which to visibly manifest to mortals.
When he comes to villages, he cannot leave, and his restless energy, seen in shadows, feeds off any unhappiness present in the villagers.
His shadow feasts and grows so much that darkness falls over the village.
Eventually it combusts, causing huge fires and often burning villages to the ground.
Only once the fires have burned out can the Nameless Faceless God move on to the next village.
You will not be able to know for certain if he is in your village, but if you sense that he is, bring all magical relics to a torii gate in offering. Only the most powerful combination of relics can send him on his way and stop his shadow from bursting and destroying your home.
I’m broken from my horrified trance when the rec center door flies open. It’s Kai and the boys from the warehouse, their fists lifted, chanting, “Traitors, traitors, traitors!”
I gasp. The members of the meeting have risen, their cheeks reddening. Mr. Boser leaps from his chair.
“Silence!” he shouts at Kai and the boys. “I order you to disperse.”
Kai steps forward and shouts even louder. Mr. Boser yanks the rifle from the guard, pushes him aside, and lifts it, pointing it directly at Kai’s face. I scream. I cover my ears but not my eyes, not knowing what to do, just trying to block everything out and make it stop.
“Do it, you bastard!” Kai cries. “Pull the trigger and see what happens. Watch us rise up!”
Mr. Boser and Kai face each other, and I think he’s going to pull the trigger. But then the guard intervenes, grabbing Mr. Boser’s shoulder. He thrusts the rifle back into the guard’s arms.
“Watch yourself,” he says to Kai, but he’s breathing hard and there’s fright in his eyes. “Watch yourself or I’ll have you arrested.”
I’m relieved when he pushes past Kai and the others, until Kai’s gaze falls on me. My chest seizes. He doesn’t look anything like the carefree boy from the fire. I realize I haven’t seen him at school lately.
“What are you doing?” he demands.
“What do you mean?” I ask, immediately defensive.
“You’re going to the meetings now? Trying to work with them?”
“What if I am?” I bristle, my heartbeat kicking back up. He scowls at me. Then he shakes his head and leaves.
I grab the encyclopedia and the book for Emi and rush out, too. Still shaken, I look up. The shadows have risen into the sky again, lingering in thick, almost orderly bands. Heavy and present.
I hurry back to my barrack.
I dream that night about Akira stalking around the camp until he meets barbed wire.
With a cry of rage, he turns and stalks the other way.
Again and again. In the dream, dust stirs.
It lifts and spins. It becomes the ocean, arching up into cresting waves, which crash across the ground.
Color becomes the flinty graphite of my drawings.
A knock startles me awake. It’s a panicked fist pounding hard against our door, loud enough to make Mr. Kimura’s coughing snores pause, and the chatty couple falls silent. I sit up in bed as Mama gets up.
“Who can that be?” she asks.
It’s past midnight. Creeping, nocturnal shadows play across the floorboards.
I don’t think I’ll ever see shadows the same.
These ones lengthen, trying to free themselves from the corners as the searchlight blazes through our barrack.
Mama holds out a hand for me to stay back and wraps herself in a sweater.
She opens the door just an inch, then the rest of the way.
Another shadow falls across the floorboards to join the others. Only this one isn’t formless and frightening. It’s long, lanky—human. Ren.
He is framed in the doorway, a backlit silhouette.
Starlight shines on his shoulders and hair.
For a moment, I almost think he’s become something else, something eternal, something like Akira.
A drop of liquid runs down his wrist and pitters onto the floor.
My heart lifts at the sight of him, but I’m confused.
Why is he bleeding? Why is he at our barrack in the middle of the night?
“What’s wrong?” Mama gasps.
“It’s Emi.” Ren’s voice is so weak and hoarse that I almost don’t recognize it. “She’s gone into labor and—and—she’s hemorrhaging. She needs blood. We’ve given everything we can, but she needs more. She’s A negative. Please, can you help?”
Before Mama can respond, he lists forward, lurching into our room. Mama catches him as his knees buckle and wraps her arms around his waist.
“Violet! Come help me get him to the bed.”
I jump up, the straw tick mattress crinkling from my panicked movements.
I rush to Ren’s other side. His skin is cold and he’s shivering but drenched with sweat.
A small, round incision on his forearm bleeds freely.
He manages to stand again and take a few more steps before collapsing headlong onto my bed, unconscious.
“Ren!” I cry, terrified.
“He’s fainted from giving too much blood.” Mama takes a washrag and ties it around his arm. She puts my pillow under his head and yanks my blanket over him.
“We need to give blood,” I say, but Mama is already pulling on her coat, not even stopping to change out of her nightdress.
“I will. You stay here with the boy. He’ll wake up soon. Give him water when he does.”
“No,” I protest. “I’m coming with you. Emi might need more.”
“You’re B negative.” Mama speaks to me like I’m a stupid child as she puts on her shoes. “You aren’t a match. I’m O negative. Stay with him. He’ll be confused when he wakes up.”
“But Emi is my friend! I—”
“No. Listen to me.” She pauses. A scuttling cloud reveals the moon through the still-open door. Just as it illuminated Ren, it highlights Mama’s face as she stands sidelong in the threshold. Every feature is set, but I see it, hidden behind her strength. Fear. “Please, Violet.”
Mama never says please. Not to me. I take a breath.
“All right. But if there’s anything I can do to help, promise you’ll come get me,” I say.
“Hai,” Mama says.
She leaves, and I’m alone in our room with Ren.