Tokyo Demons Book 1: Chapter 4

Ayase’s dreams were different now. She was still trapped in some sort of clear cage, but the Blue Light gangster was gone. His small audience had disappeared with him, except for one member–a man with skin the color of dilute tea. He sat on a chair and watched her in silence, his green eyes never wavering. He didn’t seem angry, like the gangster. He just looked…pensive.

He eventually stood and pulled on plastic gloves. Ayase recoiled in her cage. He murmured something in an alien language as he broke the seal of her prison. She pulled back, but he managed to clutch her arm. Only it wasn’t an arm–it was a wing. A translucent wing with a rainbow reflection in the light. He carefully extended her wing and let his green eyes trail over it. Ayase tried to break free, her other wing fluttering so fast that it slapped awkwardly against the floor. But his grip was too strong. She eventually gave up, submitting herself to the gloved fingers that eventually made their way to her chitinous back. Those fingers ran over her slowly, sending strange feelings through her veins. She felt…calmer. Trapped, but not unsafe.

He whispered something else in his foreign tongue. He gently raised her other wing.

“We’re here.”

Ayase snapped awake. The subway screeched as it slowed, swaying her in her awkward position propped against a window. The familiar chime rang overhead.

Ayase stumbled to her feet and followed Sachi out of the subway car. Once safely out of the station, she took a second to rub her aching neck.

They were in Ueno–which meant she hadn’t been sleeping very long. She was clearly exhausted enough to drop into dreams the moment she closed her eyes, but…why had her dreams suddenly changed? They were like the earlier nightmares, but the dark-skinned foreigner didn’t make any sense. She dreamed about the Blue Light thug because she’d met him and was afraid he was after her. Having a mob of threatening strangers with him wasn’t odd, but this amount of detail…she didn’t recognize the dark-skinned man from her memory at all.

“What’s the matter?” Sachi asked.

Ayase shook her head. She had more much important things to worry about than her bizarre dreams.

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Lead the way.”

Sachi lead her down a few streets. Ayase followed him mechanically, letting her mind wander again. In that dream she’d imagined herself as an insect, but that wasn’t unusual for her. The glass cage…it didn’t have bars, it was more like a bubble around her. Like a glass ball, or…she remembered the man breaking the seal on her cage from above. A jar, maybe. She was an insect in a glass jar.

That’s not very original. Ayase frowned. She was overthinking this.

Sachi suddenly stopped. Ayase dropped her train of thought and looked up.

They were on an average commercial street, the sidewalks lined with independently owned restaurants, shops, and other small businesses. Tucked between a nail salon and a noodle shop was an oldish building with a few floors and high, multicolored windows. Ayase couldn’t figure out what it was until she saw the wooden cross perched on a small landing in front of a second-floor window.

“A…church?” she blurted. “You were being literal about the confession thing?”

“Sorta.” Sachi scratched the back of his head. “There’s a guy here who’s helped me through a lot of stuff these past few years. He’s really nice–I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Ayase felt more out of place than usual. She hesitated. “Are you Christian?” she asked after a moment.

“No. Well, maybe. I think my birth parents might’ve been.” He gestured to the door. “Wanna give him a try?”

Ayase hesitated again. She was much more familiar with Christian practices than her classmates–her Children’s Home had been Catholic, and all her caregivers had been nuns. Hell, she’d lived in that place until just a few months earlier, when she’d finally moved to Fukuhashi’s dorms. She’d spent the vast majority of her life in a Catholic institution.

But that was the problem. She remembered how seriously those nuns took their religion. She was constantly told at her home that it “wasn’t pushing any religious doctrine,” and yet she was yelled at for eating before Grace or forgetting the hymns during choir. Ayase rarely committed to anything, for obvious reasons, and religion was no different. She swiftly discovered that she had to hide that from the nuns or they’d either get angry or blame themselves, both of which made Ayase supremely uncomfortable.

“Uh…maybe I shouldn’t go in if I’m not Christian,” Ayase murmured.

Sachi waved off the comment. “He’s a community guy. He said he’s specifically here to help people who aren’t Christian.”

Ayase let out a breath. She couldn’t think of another good excuse. Ghostly screams of nuns from the past echoed in her ears as she followed Sachi inside.

It was a bit dim in the church; much of the light that filtered in took on the colors of stained class, sending patterns of light across the wooden floors. The walls were stone but the rows of pews were wood, and they led to a simple altar at the front of the large room.

A Western man in black mopped floor in front of the altar. He hummed to himself while swaying rhythmically. His light-colored hair was flattened against his head by a pair of giant headphones wired to a music player on his hip.

He didn’t seem to notice them approach. Sachi called to him a few times, but received no response; when he tapped the man on the shoulder, the man finally spun around. His face lit up.

“Sachi-kun!” The man tugged down his earphones. Ayase heard the tiny, muffled beats of what sounded like hip hop. “How nice to see you! And you brought a friend,” he added, turning blue eyes to Ayase.

Blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

She knew those blue eyes.

But from where? Her mind quickly scanned her memories, but she couldn’t place them. And yet…she felt like it was important, somehow.

The man seemed to notice her furrowed brow. “Oh, my. Is something wrong?”

Ayase knew that Sachi was watching her, but she had to stop worrying about him worrying. “No,” she said slowly. “Just…have we met?” Her eyes fell on the familiar black collar with its thick white stripe. “Father,” she added, pronouncing the title in English.

He smiled broadly. “Father! Well, isn’t that sweet. Where did you learn that? Are you Christian, my dear?”

“No. I was raised in a Catholic home.”

“I see. Father is actually an English term for a Catholic priest–we don’t use it in Poland.” He set down his mop. “Anyway, you can just call me Daniel.”

The way he pronounced it in Japanese sounded like DAHN-i-eh-ru. Ayase repeated it, adding a -san.

“To answer your question, I don’t think so. Have you ever come here before?”

Ayase shook her head. Dammit, where did she know him from? He was very tall, and his straw-blond hair was full and a bit long, almost like a shortened page cut. He would stand out like a sore thumb anywhere. So how come she couldn’t place him?

Sachi stepped in to speak on her behalf. “No,” he said. “Daniel-san, this is Ayase Watanabe. She’s a classmate of mine.”

“Ayase?” Daniel repeated. “So this isn’t the girl from middle school you always talk about.”

Sachi suddenly stiffened. He stared at Daniel, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Daniel wilted. “I mean…never mind. Not important.” He cleared his throat. “So. How can I help you today?”

Sachi colored and looked away. I guess I wasn’t supposed to hear that, Ayase thought. She didn’t care about Sachi’s girl troubles in the slightest, but she doubted telling him that would help.

Ayase begrudgingly continued the conversation. “Sachi said you’re good at…listening to people.” She shuffled her feet. “Like confession. Although I’m not really looking for…” She trailed off, but didn’t want to shut him down completely. She didn’t want to leave that place until she figured out why she recognized him.

“Proper Confession is for Catholics, dear. But I’m more than happy to listen to your troubles and advise you if I can.” He gestured to Sachi. “Sachi comes by to talk all the time. He was so worried about the start of school that he–“

“Daniel-san, please!” Sachi turned even redder.

Daniel gave an embarrassed laugh. “Never mind!”

Great. Ayase sighed. She was even less likely to take Sachi up on this offer. The priest obviously couldn’t keep a secret. What the hell could she talk to him about?

Suddenly, one of the pews near the back of the room creaked. Ayase turned; no one was there. There was another creaking, following by the faint sound of ruffling fabric.

Sachi’s brow creased. He was about to head toward the noise when Daniel reached out and touched his shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” Daniel murmured. He cleared his throat. “Hello?” he called out. “Do we have a stray cat, or is someone sleeping there?”

There was no response for several seconds. Then, a faint moan.

Daniel brushed by Ayase and Sachi and walked quickly toward the haunted pew. Once he reached it and looked down, he gasped.

“Kadoyuki-kun!” he cried. “What on earth are you doing there?!”

Kadoyuki.

Ayase went rigid as the nearly forgotten confrontation in the bathroom rushed back to her.

“Watanabe-san!”

“Help me!”

Her heart started to pound. She watched Sachi rush over as Daniel helped a groggy schoolboy to his feet. It was the Kadoyuki from their class, all right–he still wore his uniform, although the tie was undone. His jacket slid to the floor. It looked like he had either been sleeping on it or under it.

What the hell was he doing there?

Ayase’s mind raced. She had the terrible feeling this was significant. Kadoyuki had been in the same hospital bathroom as Ayase during a school day–and now he was here, sleeping in the back of some hole-in-the-wall church Sachi had dragged her to. There had to be a connection. But what? What?

Ayase’s palms began to sweat. Kadoyuki had begged for her help. Now he was in front of her again, pale and disoriented as Sachi pulled Kadoyuki’s arm over his shoulder. He clearly did need help, but she had no idea what kind.

She had to do something. She had to. She shakily clenched her fists.

“We have a few beds in the back,” Daniel said. “Sachi-kun, can you help me bring him there?”

“Sure, but…what are you doing here, Kado?“

Kadoyuki didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned his weight against Sachi, pulled his arm free from Daniel, and started frantically patting down his pockets.

“Phone,” he blurted. “Can’t…need the…”

He almost sounded drunk. Daniel sighed and instead put an arm around Kadoyuki’s waist.

“I know Kadoyuki-kun is a friend of yours, Sachi-kun…maybe he’ll talk to you if you have some privacy.”

Sachi awkwardly agreed to try. Ayase bit her lip.

Good, Sachi. Keep him busy in another room.

Kadoyuki, as if suddenly noticing what was happening, made an alarmed grunt as he was dragged along. “W-wait,” he mumbled. “Who’s with you? Where are you taking me?” He tried to squirm free.

“You need a bed, young man,” Daniel reprimanded. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you some food once you’re more awake.”

“But…no. Sachi? Why are…who’s with you?”

His delirious questions disappeared behind the wooden clunk of a closing door. A moment later, Daniel came back through the door alone.

Now.

Her heart in her throat, Ayase ran up to the man. His light-colored eyebrows furrowed as she approached.

“…You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmured.

Ayase swallowed hard. “I need to talk to you,” she said quickly. “A-about him.”

“Which him?”

“Uh…Kado. Kadoyuki. Is he one of the people you ‘talk’ to?”

Daniel let out a breath. “Not really,” he replied as he stretched out his shoulders. “I think Sachi-kun recommended this place to him years ago and he comes every once in a while. But not to talk, no matter how much we offer. He usually just comes to pray.”

Pray?

“Is he a friend of yours?”

Ayase paused. How the hell could she explain that she didn’t even know him? That the only reason he was even an existence in her mind was because of a moment of coincidence, when they’d been in the same bathroom and he’d literally thrown himself on her mercy?

So she didn’t try to make any connection. She just blurted out the story of the bathroom, not pausing to breathe until she told the priest everything.

Daniel frowned. “God help me,” he murmured. “He didn’t tell you anything else?”

Ayase shook her head.

“And the classmate who came for him. You think he was running from him?”

Ayase licked dry lips. This was the right thing to do, right? She’d been burdened with Kadoyuki’s problems, but she was in no condition to help him. Passing off that burden to an authority figure was a good idea, right? Especially if, bizarrely, Kadoyuki already had a relationship with this place?

It made sense, but that didn’t make her feel better. This was all getting so complicated…

“The upperclassman was trying to get him to see a doctor,” she explained. “So I don’t know. Kadoyuki said ‘he’ couldn’t know I was there…I’m not sure if he meant the upperclassman, the doctor, or someone else.”

Daniel let out a breath. “Hm,” he murmured. “Well, it could be drugs, I’m afraid. This sort of behavior from someone your age implies substance abuse. Especially if he was in a hospital and someone was trying to get him medical help.” He crossed his arms and thoughtfully tapped his chin. “You say you think you recognized the voice of the upperclassman. Do you know his name? Maybe we should ask Kadoyuki-kun about him directly.”

As Daniel tapped his jaw with those long fingers, his blue eyes slanted to the right while he contemplated…Ayase suddenly recognized him.

Those blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

Watching her and contemplating.

He was from her dream. He’d been one of the strangers watching her in her dream.

Ayase’s blood ran cold. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Those blue eyes slanted back to her. “Do you…” Daniel blinked. “Ayase-kun?” he asked, clearly confused by her sudden expression.

Ayase couldn’t breathe. The series of dreams from the night before rushed back at her. The thug from Blue Light and his small audience watching her in her prison…one of them was the tea-colored man she would dream about later. There was a woman or two, both Japanese. But there was one other foreigner. Tall and blond, with those bright blue eyes.

Ayase was sure she’d never met him before. Which meant she’d dreamt this man before she’d met him.

And those dreams had showed her, in no uncertain terms, that he was someone who would lock her away.

Ayase shakily took a step back. She felt doom closing in on her.

Daniel’s expression went very serious. “Ayase-kun?” she barely heard over the rush in her ears. “You just went white as a sheet. Ayase-kun…?”

And she’d just told him Kadoyuki’s secret. When Kadoyuki himself had always turned down this church’s offer for guidance.

The world swayed before her eyes. When Daniel reached his hand out to her, something in Ayase snapped.

Run.

She turned on her heels and bolted out of that church, never looking back.

“Ayase-kun!”

She let the wooden door slam behind her as she flew down the sidewalk. She didn’t remember how Sachi had gotten her there. She ran down a few sidewalks, panting, her eyes crazily hunting for a subway sign. She came across the station so suddenly that she rammed full-force into someone who was exiting.

“Ow,” the girl muttered, gripping her nose. “Watch where you’re going!”

Ayase scrambled to her feet, her mind narrowing in on her survival. She swiped her rail pass at the turnstile and barely made it through the subway doors before they shut with an airy choom behind her. She stood in the middle of the car, panting, and felt sweat slowly drip down her temple. The subway started with a lurch and she stumbled to stay standing.

She swallowed hard and squeezed shut her eyes. What was going on? What was going on?!

“Watanabe-san! Help me!”

Her teeth dug into her lower lip. And what the hell had she done?!

“Um…excuse me?” came a voice from one of the benches. “Miss? You’re bleeding.”

Ayase blearily looked down. Her knees, barely visible under the edge of her uniform skirt, were scuffed and red from her tumble on the sidewalk. A single drop of blood had rolled down her leg to stain a bright blotch on her knee sock.

Ayase dropped onto a bench, buried her face in her hands, and started to cry.

***************

Jo showed up to homeroom the next day. He still needed time to think, and what better time to daydream than during his joke of a school day? He decided to sit through all his classes, pointedly not skipping his fourth period one for the cafeteria, and mentally settle on his next plan of action.

It wasn’t until second period that he noticed a quarter of his class was missing. It wasn’t until fourth period that he noticed Sachi slumped at his desk, looking anxious and depressed. And it wasn’t until lunch that Jo figured out why.

Ayase was skipping. So was Sachi’s weirdo friend Kado, but that wasn’t unusual.

Jo sighed. He didn’t want to open a can of worms, but watching Sachi pine away in his seat was irritating. Besides, he’d barely spoken to Sachi since the day of the motorcycle outside. They were due to share a few words.

Bracing himself, Jo brought his lunch to Sachi’s desk and forced a sarcastic smile.

“Girl trouble?”

Sachi snapped out of some haze and looked up. “Huh?” he blurted.

“Ayase. She’s not here and you look worried.” Jo pulled up a chair. “I just figured.”

Sachi stared at Jo, some train of thought dancing through his eyes. He lowered his eyebrows.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” Sachi said thinly. “I hope you at least got the messages I sent with Kiyoshi.”

Jo nodded. “Yeah. The big guy from Blue Light is in police custody or something, right?” Jo had only gotten the message that morning, but honestly, joining Byakko had already pushed the concern pretty far out of his mind. It was icing on his no-worries cake. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Sachi frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and looked away.

Jo figured he would offer an excuse. “I wasn’t really worried,” he lied. “But I’m glad you followed up.”

Sachi didn’t seem to like that response. Letting out a breath, he stood.

“I have to check on her,” he murmured. “Excuse me.”

Jo poked a straw into his pouch of jellied supplement. “Ayase? What, is she sick?”

“I don’t know. She’s barricaded herself in her room and won’t come out.”

That actually surprised Jo a little. “Barricaded?” he repeated. “Why?”

Sachi ran a hand through his spiked hair. “I just…I brought her somewhere yesterday and she got really upset. She won’t tell me why and she won’t open her door.” He slung his bag over his shoulder. “I haven’t checked on her since this morning, so I want to see if she’s willing to talk now.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Uh…Sachi,” he said carefully. “Maybe you should take the hint.”

Sachi turned to him. “What?”

Jo sucked on his straw. This was getting dangerously close to Daddy territory again, but Sachi was still a novice at dealing with women–and he was an incredibly slow learner. Somebody had to take his hand now and again.

“Talking isn’t the answer to everything,” Jo murmured around his straw. “Sometimes people just need their space. Where did you take her, anyway? To some make-out point?”

Sachi’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“You remember what I told you in Blue Light, right? That sometimes girls blow off guys they don’t know well because they don’t feel safe.” Jo slurped his jelly. “You probably came on too strong. Just leave her alone.”

Sachi didn’t move for a few seconds, his mouth open and his eyes locked on Jo. Then anger twisted his normally sweet features.

“I already told you!” he snapped. “I’m not trying to sleep with her!”

Sachi said the last line too loudly. A few students nearby snickered, which seemed to make Sachi even angrier.

“Forget it,” Sachi snarled. “Maybe you’ve never gotten close to a girl without ulterior motives, but not every guy in the world is you, Jo.”

Jo felt a defensive anger bubble up inside him. That was nasty–and not just for Sachi, either. He slammed his empty juice packet on the desk.

“First of all,” Jo hissed, “you don’t know me, because if you did you’d know that’s not fucking true. Second of all, it doesn’t matter what your intentions are–she’s still a girl who wants her space, and you’re still a guy who won’t respect that. How the hell is she supposed to know you’re not trying to nail her? And you’re constantly in her face even when she makes it really clear that she doesn’t like it.” He scoffed. “If I were her, I would’ve put a restraining order on your ass a long time ago.”

Sachi was shocked into silence. He closed his mouth and looked down for a long moment. Then, slowly, he rested his bag back upon the desk.

“I never…thought of it like that,” he said quietly.

Jo irritably stood. “Of course not. Because you’d rather talk than think. For someone who acts so damn chummy all the time, you’ve got a lot to learn about people.” Jo scraped back his chair and went back to his own desk. After dropping into his seat, he unwrapped his meal bar and bit into it angrily.

He didn’t care what Sachi did next–he was seriously done trying to help that guy–but he did notice Sachi sit back down. Apparently abandoning his plan to check on Ayase again, Sachi instead dropped his arms onto his desk and buried his face in them.

Jo was pissed for the rest of the school day. He ignored Sachi and stormed out the minute the last class was over. He had some errands to run, but he went to an arcade first and blew a few hours shooting digital zombies with a bright red gun. It helped alleviate his frustration, if only a little.

What the hell was wrong with his classmates? Jo felt like he’d been dragged into some sort of PSA, where wide-eyed teenagers were so naive and helpless that peer pressure could convince them to jump off a bridge. And every time he reached out to offer some sage advice–like with Sachi, like with Kiyoshi and his puppy love, or the few stupid times he’d tried to help that Kado kid–he was insulted and attacked. He’d actually put on cover-up that morning because of all the bruises on his face. None were from his famous fight with drug-dealers, mind you–they were from classmates Jo had been trying to help.

Well, screw them. Jo was done. Time to blow off Team Lame and seek out people who were more like him. People who could have a good time and separate without drama, for example.

With that thought, Jo went shopping that evening. He purchased something small–something that would fit in his pocket, even when he wrapped it in tissue paper and bundled it with a small note. He also bought a new wallet and a wallet chain, since there was no way in hell he was letting his own property get stolen again.

Satisfied, he took the subway home that night. There was a problem on the tracks, so he got kicked off a few stops short of school. He was a little uneasy walking home in the dark…but then he remembered the bit of good news Sachi had provided. If the cops had nabbed the Gaijin Timebomb, Jo had nothing to fear now. It relaxed him further and even softened the edge of his earlier anger with Sachi. Jo strolled down the nighttime street, relieved that he could start living a normal life again.

He needed a smoke. That was one of the benefits of being outside at night–nobody noticed he was underage. He lit up a cigarette while he walked, took a long drag, then snapped away the orange glow of his lighter.

Somebody whistled behind him. Jo turned to see a few teenagers loitering outside a tiny noodle shop.

“Hey,” one of them called. “Lend me a cigarette, bro?”

Jo gave a vaguely apologetic shrug and kept walking, other things on his mind.

A light suddenly flashed in the corner of Jo’s eye; Jo squinted and blocked it with his hand. He turned slightly to see one of the teenagers flickering a flashlight on and off at him.

It was annoying as hell. The boys started murmuring among themselves. Jo tried to ignore it and keep walking, but whoever held the flashlight was now following him. “He wants a cigarette!” the punk called after Jo. “You rude piece of shit!”

Yeah, I’m the rude piece of shit.

Jo wanted to duck into a store to lose them. Unfortunately, he was in an office-heavy district, so none of the businesses nearby were open. How late was it, anyway? Jo had thought it was only 8 o’clock, but he was starting to doubt that.

The other punks joined the one with the flashlight, jeering at Jo and following in his footsteps. Jo made a turn and the group followed…which started to worry him. Jo didn’t know these particular teenagers, but he recognized the type: convinced they were tough enough to start shit with strangers. Jo had no interest in getting into a pissing contest with guys like that, especially when he was outnumbered.

He finally turned to face them directly. The teenagers stopped.

“I’m already smoking my last stick,” Jo snapped. “Don’t make me call the cops.” He pushed a hand into his pocket to fake a cell phone.

The boys murmured among themselves again as the flashlight trailed over his body. The hair on Jo’s neck stood on end.

The flashlight landed on the watch on his left wrist.

“It is white!” someone shouted triumphantly.

The teens whooped and rushed forward. Jo was too shocked to respond fast enough, so he only ran a few steps before someone grabbed the back of his shirt. He was dragged back into the small group, who cheered as they half-shoved, half-carried Jo into a nearby alley.

“Byakko pussy!” one of them cried. “Seiryuu forever!”

Seiryuu.

Byakko’s rival gang. The one that supposedly no longer existed.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Jo kicked outward as hard as he could; his shoe connected with a body, sending someone flying in another direction. He wrenched an arm free and swung his fist as hard as he could, but he couldn’t aim properly and it only glanced off someone. Someone shoved Jo from behind, so Jo whipped around to face him. The moment he did, someone delivered a kidney punch so squarely that Jo choked on his breath and crumbled into the concrete.

“Look at this guy!” one of the punks taunted. “With his fancy clothes and expensive haircut! Is Byakko just a clubhouse now?”

“That’s what they say,” another chimed in. “You guys probably sip cocktails and suck each other’s cocks.”

Jo struggled to get up, but someone kicked him in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Jo collapsed to the ground again, real fear pulling out a cold sweat on his temples.

He was in trouble. He didn’t normally stand a chance against three or four guys at once–especially if they got in a few good hits this early. Mentally cursing Seiya and Miki for not warning him, his mind scrambled for ideas.

“Wh-what’s Byakko?” he gasped. It was worth a shot.

One of the boys laughed. He reached down and grabbed Jo’s hair, yanking Jo’s head up so he could wheeze rank breath into Jo’s face.

“You little shits are nothing without Takeshi,” he snarled. “And you tell that piss-licker Miki that we’re gonna take turns carving our names into his little girl’s ass.”

One of the other punks suddenly yelled out in pain. Jo’s hair was abruptly released; his cheek slammed into the pavement, sending his vision spinning. He heard the sounds of fighting around him, but for some reason, all the hands on him lifted and he was left miraculously free. He swallowed down bile in his throat and struggled to his knees. He scrambled backward, his arms crossed in front of face to block any headshots with his forearms.

But no one touched him. Jo blinked his blurred vision to see several of the thugs lying unconscious around him. The last standing thug rushed a tall figure who blocked the exit out of the alley.

The mysterious new arrival dodged the rush and grabbed the thug’s skull. Jo figured the dark was playing tricks on him, because he thought he saw the figure lift the thug by the face and throw him into a wall.

The thug slid to the ground, motionless. The figure turned to Jo and reached for him.

Jo scrambled backward in a panic, his heart thundering in his ears. But then he noticed, over the reek of sweat and blood and fear, a familiar hint of expensive cologne. His blurry eyes focused on the hard reaching for him.

It was wrapped in a black glove.

“It’s okay, Jo-kun,” Touya said gently. “Don’t be afraid.”

The adrenaline pumping through Jo’s veins suddenly fizzled, which caused his stomach to lurch. He dropped onto his hands and knees and vomited onto the pavement.

Unable to process what was going on around him, Jo focused on emptying his stomach for a few seconds. A flashlight clicked onto him again and he cringed; Touya hummed some sort of positive note as he trailed the light over the pool of Jo’s vomit.

“No blood in there,” he commented. “That’s a good sign.” Jo heard the small clack and beep of a cell phone, then Touya’s voice again. “Hello? It looks like there was a gang fight downtown and some teenagers were hurt.” His voice faded as he walked back to the street. “We’ll need some ambulances and the police. It’s at the corner of…”

Jo spat one last time and shakily checked his pockets. He hadn’t been robbed, at least. He stumbled to his feet, wiping liquid from his mouth and…damn, even his eyes and nose were leaking. He hated puking. He coughed and staggered up to Touya.

“I-I don’t need an ambulance,” he blurted. “Just call it for those other guys.” He wanted to distract from the real concern out of Touya’s mouth: “police.”

Touya raised an eyebrow at Jo as he shut his cell phone. “You need a doctor,” he said. “I have to insist.”

“I’ll go to a clinic. I just…ambulances freak me out.” Jo almost winced at the line. He wasn’t thinking straight enough to make a good excuse.

For some reason, Touya didn’t argue the point. “Fine,” he said. “You can go to a clinic as long as you let me accompany you. There’s one a few blocks from here–can you walk?”

It was the best Jo could hope for. He nodded and let Touya help him down the street. Shortly after they turned the corner, Jo heard the distant sound of sirens fade in.

Jo swallowed. He felt awkward; his knees were scraped up, but his legs were otherwise fine, so he didn’t strictly need Touya’s support. But Touya’s gloved hand stayed locked on Jo’s elbow, like a teacher leading a troublemaker to punishment.

And that grip was rock hard. Jo wondered how much of Touya lifting those gang members had really been his imagination.

“Um,” Jo said at last, to break the silence. “I was just…um…”

Touya cut him off. “I happened to be taking a walk,” he explained. “I saw them jump you. They assumed you were Byakko because of your white watch, is that right?”

Jo cleared his throat. “They assumed. I didn’t do anything.”

Touya let out a breath through his nose. “I have trouble believing you didn’t know you were wearing a gang symbol.” He glanced down at Jo, his eyes black in the dark. “You don’t seem like the naive type.”

Jo wasn’t sure how to answer. He felt that weird pull again, like when he’d first met Touya in the dorm. It didn’t feel particularly sexual this time, just intense and hard to describe. Maybe it was the cologne. He needed to overpower it with something…

Jo fumbled in his pockets until he found a cigarette. He slipped it between his lips, then remembered who he was with. He sheepishly pulled it back out as Touya chuckled.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll allow you one cigarette before we get to the clinic.” He smirked. “As long as you promise you’ll try to quit.”

Jo swallowed and lit up his cigarette. He tentatively offered one to Touya.

“They’re addictive,” Touya said icily. “I would never volunteer to be a slave to something.”

The change in tone sent goosebumps tingling along Jo’s skin. The grip on his elbow tightened.

Yikes. Jo dragged deeply, hoping the nicotine would smooth out the conversation. After a few puffs and a few wet coughs, Jo did feel a little calmer. He brushed down his disheveled hair with his free hand.

“By the way,” he said quietly. “Thank you for helping me out, senpai.”

Touya’s grip loosened. “That’s what I’m here for,” he said gently. “I want to help you, Jo.”

Jo furrowed his eyebrows. “Um…I appreciate that. But I don’t really need help. I’m sure there are a lot of other students…” Jo trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to deflect this.

Touya clucked his tongue. “You must be new to Tokyo.”

“Technically. But I grew up in Kanto.”

Touya looked down at him and smiled thinly. “But not in this city,” he confirmed. “Which means you don’t understand what goes on around here. Tokyo is what we call a ‘hot spot,’ Jo-kun. It’s very close to reaching its boiling point. And when that happens…” He raised his free fist beside his face, then opened it suddenly. “Boom.”

Jo furrowed his eyebrows. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Touya’s grip suddenly softened. “I know there’s a lot you don’t understand right now,” he said quietly. “But I’m afraid you’re going to be dragged into something very dangerous. You already have been, between Blue Light and tonight. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your safety.”

Jo removed the cigarette from his mouth. “I…I don’t,” he answered lamely.

Touya sighed. “Maybe the last few days have been a fluke for you. But if things get too big for you to handle alone, please consider my offer. That’s all I ask.”

Jo swallowed hard. There was that pull again. Maybe not sexual, maybe not the cologne…it was starting to feel more fundamental. Deeper. Almost…familial.

Jo suddenly wondered, abstractly, if he and Touya were related.

“I’ll consider it,” Jo finally answered, not sure if was lying or not.

Touya rubbed his thumb along Jo’s elbow. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Proceed to Chapter 4, page 3–>
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