Blackwood, please be seated. You are safe,’ Sato said, coming over to help Kenny to his feet.
‘What . . . was that . . . thing?’ Kenny asked, his voice hoarse and shaky.
‘Tell me what you saw.’
‘Oh, not again! Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.’ Kenny’s heart was still thumping against his ribs.
Sato tapped his sunglasses. ‘No, I saw it. I just want to be sure you saw the same thing.’
‘What, that big red horned thing? Like a cross between Shrek and Hellboy.’
Sato arched an eyebrow. ‘So, you have the Gift of Sight? Interesting. I thought gaijin cannot see oni.’
‘Oni ? Is that what it’s called?’
‘I call him Taro, but yes, he is oni.’
‘And what’s a guy-jean?’
‘You. An outsider, a foreigner.’ Sato sat down again. ‘Mr Blackwood, what you have just seen is something that most people never see. You have looked behind the curtain and peeped at the hidden world beyond.’
Kenny rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You do not have to. Your grandfather has sent you here to finish his work. Of that, I am sure. I am here to help you.’
‘Finish his work? What work? I’m just here to see my dad. Can’t I just go now?’
‘Empty your pockets, please. Do you have anything from your grandfather? Anything at all?’
‘Wait. You brought that oni thing in here. Why?’
‘Call it a test. The fact that you can see Taro tells me everything I need to know. Now, empty your pockets, please.’
‘And what if I don’t?’
‘Then Taro will empty them for you.’ Sato inspected his manicured fingernails. ‘I can wait.’
Muttering under his breath, Kenny placed the contents of his pockets on to the table: a set of keys attached to a Newcastle United key ring, some loose change, a half-empty packet of chewing gum, his phone, a pack of trading cards secured with a rubber band, and the wooden whistle.
‘Is that everything?’ Sato asked, rising to his feet again.
Kenny nodded and then stiffened as Sato approached him. Something about the man set Kenny’s teeth on edge, something not quite right, but he couldn’t decide what.
‘Stand up, raise your arms,’ Sato said and patted Kenny down. Paper rustled as his hand pressed against the boy’s ribcage. Sato reached into Kenny’s jacket and removed the envelope from the aeroplane. ‘Something you forgot?’ he said, taking out the letter, his eyes skimming over the writing.
‘Hey!’ Kenny protested. ‘That’s private. You can’t read other people’s –’
Sato’s free hand drew a shape in the air and Kenny’s voice vanished as suddenly as if an off button had been pressed. Bewildered, Kenny continued to protest; his mouth moved, he felt air pass over his vocal cords, but no sound came out. He tried screaming, but he was like a character in a silent movie.
Sato read the letter a third time and then addressed Kenny, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘This is a strange letter. Not very informative. I am going to make a copy of it. Please stay here, for your own safety. Do not try to leave as Taro will be guarding the door.’ He smiled, without warmth. ‘You can shout for help if you want.’
Sato tossed the envelope on to the table and left the room. The hulking shadow of the oni moved in front of the door.
Kenny’s mind was racing. None of this made any sense. Barely twelve hours ago, he was a kid looking forward to a trip to the Far East. Now he was stuck in some kind of waking nightmare, complete with monsters that most people couldn’t see.
He reached for his phone and swore silently when he saw that there was no signal. Slipping it back into his pocket, he gathered up the rest of his belongings. The last item he picked up was the envelope and, when he did, something rolled out from underneath it: the whistle.
What was it that Grandad had said? Use the whistle only in emergencies. Ridiculous, but then again, if this wasn’t an emergency, what was?
Kenny blew on the whistle as hard as he could. As before, no sound came out. He was about to blow again when he heard a scuffling sound overhead. He looked up and saw the corner of a ceiling tile lift up. A snout poked through, followed by two sparkling eyes.
Kenny took an involuntary step back at the sight of the fat, furry creature from the aeroplane. It was real and it was watching him. Kenny stared as it lowered its hindquarters through the gap, dangled by its arms and then plopped awkwardly on to the table. It stood up on its back legs and reached its arms out, as if asking for a hug.
Not knowing what else to do, Kenny picked it up. The creature’s quick paws loosened four buttons on his shirt and it slithered under his clothing.
‘Hey!’ Kenny mouthed silently. He was about to wrestle the thing loose when it shifted and seemed to melt, flowing round his abdomen and flattening out like a pancake. In seconds, it was wrapped round Kenny in a wide furry band. Hearing footsteps approaching, he quickly redid the buttons, just as Taro stepped aside and Sato came back in.
‘There has been a change of plan,’ Sato said. ‘You are now under arrest and will be taken to Tokyo for further questioning.’
‘But I haven’t done anything!’ Kenny tried to yell, his lips shaping the silent words.
Two policemen entered the room and, moments later, Kenny found himself being escorted through the terminal, handcuffed to an officer.
They stopped outside Narita Airport Terminal One, where two police cars and a pair of motorcycle cops were waiting. Sato climbed into the first car and Kenny was bundled into the second. Sirens wailing, the cars pulled out and headed towards Tokyo, the city lights glittering in the distance.
Kenny looked back at the receding terminal. His father would be in there, waiting for him, not knowing what had happened. This was crazy. He’d only just arrived and already he was Public Enemy Number One. There had to be a simple explanation for this. There had to be.
The police convoy pulled out on to the short connecting highway which led away from the airport, before joining the six-lane Higashi-Kanto Expressway. Low humpbacked hills slunk in the distance and the setting sun seared the sky a hot neon-pink.
Kenny stared out of the window, his mind a whirl. He knew his grandfather had once lived and worked in Japan, but that was over half a century ago. How could anything that had happened then be affecting his grandson now? What did Sato mean when he had said that Grandad had sent Kenny to finish his work? And what had happened to his voice? How could Sato just turn off someone’s speech?
Kenny was reminded of the animal hiding under his shirt as it shifted its grip, digging its claws into his ribs and making him wince.
The driver muttered something in a low warning tone and the police officer handcuffed to Kenny whirled round in his seat to examine the view from the back window. Sensing something was wrong, Kenny looked back too.
‘Honto, da!’ the police officer said, pointing.
Kenny watched, seeing nothing unusual, until a black object swung out from behind a heavy truck and sped towards the police car. It was a motorcycle, black, shiny and sleek, moving so fast that it had shot silently past them on the inside lane before Kenny had registered it. Pressing himself against the window, Kenny watched