The Shield of Kuromori. Jason Rohan

try swimming in leathers. At least you’ll dry off quickly.’

      Neither spoke for the next few minutes. The only sounds were the whisper of leaves on the breeze, wavy ribbons of distant music from an amusement park, frogs chirping and the occasional plop of a fish.

      ‘This is silly,’ Kenny said and slid over to squeeze next to Kiyomi.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, with undisguised suspicion.

      ‘Jeez. It’s basic survival,’ Kenny said. ‘We’re both cold and wet. We’ve got nothing dry to change into, so the next best thing is to share bodily warmth. That or light a fire, and I don’t see anything to burn.’

      ‘All right,’ Kiyomi agreed, ‘but don’t try any funny stuff.’

      ‘Yeah, right, because you’re really appealing right now.’ Kenny regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Oh, uh, just . . . well . . .’

      Kiyomi’s elbow landed in Kenny’s ribs. ‘Come on, spit it out.’

      ‘All right then. It’s just . . . you’ve been . . . such a pain lately.’

      ‘Me? What about you? You’ve been the most useless –’

      ‘No.’ Kenny held up a hand to stop her. ‘Hear me out. Listen. Ever since . . . you know . . . happened, you’ve been really angry, all the time. OK, I’m used to you being a bit feisty, and it was kind of cute, but now . . . now, you’re like the flipping Hulk – a total rage monster. Tonight just caps it all off. You could’ve got us killed, what, four times, at least. Reckless is one thing, but this . . . this is like you just don’t care.’

      Lights flashed behind Kenny’s eyes as the back of his head slammed into the earth and the air was driven from his lungs by Kiyomi’s knees on his chest. He tried to breathe in, but her fingers drilled into his throat, cutting off his airway.

      ‘Who are you to call me reckless?’ Kiyomi spat. ‘I ought to rip your stupid throat out and . . . and . . .’

      The mask of rage faltered. Kiyomi’s eyes widened from angry slits and her twisted snarl changed to a gasp of distress. Her hands flew to her mouth and she pushed away, tears brimming in her eyes.

      Kenny sat up, a hand to his bruised throat, and drew in ragged gulps of air. ‘You . . . see?’ he wheezed. ‘That’s . . . what . . . I . . . meant . . .’

      ‘Ken-chan, I’m so sorry,’ Kiyomi sobbed, dropping to her knees beside him and throwing her arms around his shoulders. ‘I don’t know what . . . I would never . . . You’re my friend.’

      Kenny felt the warmth of her tears against his neck and cupped his hand over hers.

      They were in the same position when the powerful headlights of the limousine swept over the shore and Oyama strode towards them with a blanket in each ham-sized fist.

      Kiyomi was first in the house, tugging off her sopping boots in the entryway. She paused at the sight of a pair of polished black loafers which didn’t belong to her father.

      ‘Kiyomi-chan,’ Harashima said, standing at the door to the main room. ‘I need to speak to you and Kuromori-san.’

      Kenny arrived and, seeing Kiyomi’s father, bowed. ‘Konban-wa, Harashima-sama,’ he said.

      Harashima nodded in acknowledgement, but kept his gaze fixed on Kiyomi. ‘Now,’ he said.

      Kiyomi shook out her damp hair. ‘But Papa, can’t I have a shower first? Look at me. I’m soaked. And hungry.’

      ‘Oyama will bring you a fresh towel and some hot soup. What I have to say will not wait.’ Harashima turned and went back into the room.

      ‘Uh-oh. He seems cross,’ Kenny whispered, kicking off his trainers and reaching for house slippers.

      ‘You have no idea,’ Kiyomi muttered.

      She stepped into the room and yelped in surprise. ‘Ojisan! Bikkuri shita!’

      Kenny followed and was greeted by a familiar face. ‘Sato-san!’ He remembered to bow to Kiyomi’s uncle. ‘Konban-wa.’

      ‘Konban-wa, Kuromori-san.’ Sato returned the gesture. ‘Your Japanese is improving.’

      Kenny blushed. ‘That’s not hard when you’re starting from zero.’

      Oyama appeared with two bathrobes. He handed them out and took his leave, sliding the door closed.

      Sato sighed and turned to Kiyomi. ‘Unfortunately, this is not a social visit. Your father called me.’

      Harashima had both hands clasped behind his back. ‘Kiyomi-chan, I am very, very disappointed. You were under strict instructions not to engage the oni under any circumstances.’

      ‘Sir,’ Kenny said, ‘it was my idea. Lives were in danger.’

      ‘Including yours,’ Harashima snapped. ‘You are too valuable to take stupid risks like this.’

      ‘We’re fine,’ Kiyomi protested. ‘We saved people – and we stopped oni stealing the telescope.’

      ‘Did it never occur to you that we might have wanted them to steal it, so we could follow them and find out why they wanted it?’

      ‘That doesn’t make any . . .’ Kiyomi’s words trailed off.

      ‘Instead, what do we have?’ Sato said. ‘Burnt-out buildings, downtown explosions, a plane crash near the American Navy base, a fallen lamp post, dented car roofs, and witnesses speaking of a fair-haired boy in football clothes waving a sword. Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to suppress this? As far as the world media is concerned, we’ve just had a major terrorist incident.’

      ‘Sir,’ Kenny said, measuring his words, ‘isn’t that the point?’

      Sato raised an eyebrow.

      ‘I mean, surely that’s what the oni, or whoever it was that sent them, want everyone to think. They blew up two buildings as a diversion, tried to steal a giant telescope, torched everything to cover their tracks and then planned to fly it away. That would all have happened, even if we hadn’t been there. The question is, why?’

      Harashima pursed his lips.

      A pot scraped in the kitchen. Frogs chirped outside.

      ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I want you two to tell us everything that happened this evening. Leave nothing out. Any detail, even the most insignificant to you, might be critical.’

      Sato nodded. ‘There’s definitely something big happening, since they’re not afraid to show themselves so publicly. We need to work out what it is, before it’s too late.’