akai 👁

TOMIICHI whistles as he enters the room, and the sound makes me want to sucker-punch him in the gut. The impulse vanishes as quickly as it comes, leaving behind an aftertaste of guilt.

I don't think I've ever felt this irrational before.

"You're a right-on mess, aren't you?" Tomiichi eyes the dripping state of my clothes critically. "Been skinny-dipping with Gacho in the lake?"

"I don't do skinny-dip." My voice is sullen, even more than usual. "And I got wet from the rain."

"Well – yes, I was making a joke." Tomiichi sounds pained. "I thought that was obvious."

"No."

There's that whistle again. It grates on my ears. "Someone's in a bad temper."

"Not everyone is rich and happy like you." The second the words leave my mouth, I regret it. I run my hands through my sodden hair in frustration. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

Tomiichi leans against the marble countertop. "You want to talk about it?"

A deep breath. "No offense, cousin, but you're the last person I want to talk to about this."

"Oh? It's something to do with me then? Hmm. I wonder what it could be."

Ignoring him, I strip off my cotton shirt and start wringing it out in the sink. As I do so, my eyes catch sight of something in the laundry basket. A pale pink shirt, embroidered with flowers.

Only one person in the whole house would wear something so ridiculously feminine like that.

Balling up my shirt, I toss it into the laundry basket – only it was more of a violent slam-dunk than a toss, and instead of landing cleanly inside, it knocked the basket sideways and over. The wet shirt hits the floor with a splat.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I mutter angrily, jerking it back into position.

"If you're not going to tell me your troubles," Tomiichi is saying, "perhaps I can tell you mine?"

I don't answer, but start walking out of the kitchen. Tomiichi follows me close behind.

"Even rich people have problems, you know," he presses. "And contrary to what you may think, we're not happy all the time."

The guilt-trip worked. Turning around, I fold my arms. "Fine. What are your troubles?"

Tomiichi sighs, a sound drawn-out and exaggerated. "Oh, you probably can guess. A man's only got two troubles in life – money, or women. And seeing as how I'm company president ..."

I refuse to understand or reply, choosing instead to regard him with a blank look. Tomiichi eyes me for a long minute, before finally letting out another sigh – genuine this time – and putting both palms together as if he's in prayer.

"I take it that you know the truth about Iris?"

"I take it that you know too?" I fire back.

The prayer palms split apart into a don't come at me position. "Yes, but not any earlier than you. Jared came to find me this morning, shortly after I left you with Imelda. I'm guessing she's the one who told you?"

I nod.

"Then I was the right. They were working together. Against Iris."

I shrug. Back to walking again. "Doesn't matter. Iris lied and they were right."

Tomiichi struggles to keep up with my pace. "Has it occurred to you that she may have – well, changed?"

"City people don't change. All they care about is making as much money as possible in the least amount of time. And they'll trample on anyone to get it."

"You realize you're speaking to a city person," Tomiichi points out.

"You're different," I dismiss. "Mrs. Satoh raised you."

"Look. I won't deny that Iris came to our home with ulterior motives in mind." Tomiichi's voice takes on that persuasive tone it always does when he's handling business. "But don't you think that maybe working at the farm has changed her? Working with you? That maybe money isn't the be all end all she's looking for now?"

"You don't know that," I snap.

We've reached the front of the house and the truth is I don't even know why I walked here. I wasn't really thinking. The door is thrown wide open, probably by Tomiichi when he came in. And the rain is falling down harder than ever.

"I'm done with this conversation," I say. "Iris is no longer a member of this household and if I never see her again it'll be too soon. Have a good day, Tomiichi."

I bow, stiffly, and that's when Tomiichi says,

"Iris rejected me. That's the trouble I was telling you about."

I freeze at a 20-degree angle.

"I pretty much proposed to her," Tomiichi continued. "Well, not directly, but the implication was there, and she picked up on it. And you know what she told me? Marriage isn't a business transaction. That, and when I told her Imelda was coming to find you, she took out of the coffee shop flying. Didn't even look back once. Didn't even take my lilies."

Tomiichi speaks, gentle. "I think that's a pretty clear indication of where her heart lies, doesn't it?"

There's that pounding again, in my chest. The desperate urge to believe. The eager want to reach out. And as always, a wall is there, a wall that tells me – if you expect nothing, you won't ever be disappointed.

I've lived like that for so long I've forgotten what's on the other side of that wall. It's that fear of the unknown that keeps me in place. So I hear myself saying, as I always do,

"You don't know that."

"Come on, Akai." The first traces of impatience creeps into my cousin's voice. "She turned me down for you! If that's not a clearer sign of who she really wants, then I don't know what is. Why do you refuse to see that?"

"It doesn't matter. She's gone," I say dully. "She left. Anita said she took the train."

"Must be the noon train then. And you've got – what, half an hour left?"

I finally straighten up. "You want me to run after her? In this rain? Like some goddamn J-drama?"

Tomiichi makes a face. "We-ell, I was going to suggest the car. But if running's more your style ..."

I look down at my hands. Rough farmhand hands. The hands of someone who probably doesn't even know how to flirt, much less make a grand romantic gesture.

"I wouldn't know what to tell her," I say.

"Easy. Tell her you like her."

My gaze shoots up defiantly. "I don't like her."

Tomiichi sighs. "Oh, Akai. I thought we made it clear last night that you're a horrible liar."

My feet don't budge. Pulling out his car keys, Tomiichi unlocks the sleek Volvo parked in the house porch, right in front of us. He moves to stand near it.

"If you don't tell her how you feel, you'll regret it all your life!" he shouts over the torrential rain. "Trust me. I know."

I don't move.

"Satoh Akai, get your goddamn ass in the car!"

I run.

The wind slashes horizontal water across my bare skin as I dash the few feet between house door and car door. Tomiichi whoops a wild Indian cry as he does the same.

We collapse against the leather interior of the Volvo, laughing.

"Shit," I say. "Somebody's gotta open the front gates."

By the time I enter the car again not an inch of me is dry. Tomiichi whips a towel across my face.

"Thanks." I shiver, rubbing myself down. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare shirt too, will you?"

"Afraid not." A twist of the key, and the Volvo roars into life. Tomiichi grins.

"Now hang on for your life."

¥

On a sunny day, the drive from Satoh house to Ryefair train station takes 15 minutes. 20, if it's raining, and 25 if it's raining heavily – like now.

Tomiichi screeches into the dirt yard of the train station in exactly 18 minutes.

I collapse heavily against the car door, a half-gasping mess of shattered nerves and queasy guts. "I think I'm going to be sick," I declare.

"Don't exaggerate. Hey!" A slap against my shoulder. The stars above my head spin faster. "There's your girl!"

I make a non-committal sound, still trying to convince my insides to stay right where they are.

A frown creeps into Tomiichi's voice. "Hang on. Is that Jared?"

That straightens me up somewhat.

Iris is standing on the platform, two suitcases by her side. Cotton shirt and blue jeans. Even through the rain the sight of her billowing golden hair takes my breath away.

It reminds me of sunshine, and dandelions. Of the warmest mornings, when the sun is just right for riding and not too hot for a grassy picnic with a goose and a horse. Of days when you want your loved ones all close by your side.

Picking up her luggage, she turns around – and that's when Jared creeps up behind her to clamp a cloth over her mouth.

"Akai!" Tomiichi yells, but I'm already out of the car and running.

Mud sloshes around my ankles and seeps into the hem of my trousers; the rain, relentless, threatens to blind me. My heart is thudding faster than it's ever been, faster than the night Maiko went missing, faster than the first time I pulled Iris into kissing distance – because of course that hadn't been accidental, how could it have been? Faster than all the times I'd ever looked at her without her knowing, and faster than the time I suddenly realized I kept looking at her without me knowing.

Ten feet away. Eight. Six. Iris claws madly at the hands around her throat, and then our eyes lock. There are many things in the world that are beautiful, but nothing can ever come close to those gorgeous sea-green eyes. I never had a favorite color before I met Iris Monet.

Four. Three. One.

Iris twists, a violent show of strength. Jared momentarily loses his grip. So do the shoes on Iris's feet. She falls, slipping off the train platform like an angel, her golden hair haloing around her. Even above the crash of thunder and rain I can hear the sickening sound as her head cracks against the metal railway tracks.

Jared is screaming. "Nobody dumps Jared Darling! Do you hear me? NOBODY!"

It takes both Teddy and Tomiichi to restrain him, before forcefully bringing him to his knees.

But I don't see that. I barely catch the words. All that enters my vision is the sight of Iris, crumpled like a broken doll. Those striking eyes gone behind closed lids.

And the rain, relentless rain, mixing with blood as it all slowly vanishes into ground.