will help.’
Kenny’s stomach growled and he put a hand over his middle to muffle it.
‘You’re still hungry?’ Kiyomi said. ‘Oyama said you ate everything. And I mean everything.’
Kenny cast a wry look in the direction of the furry animal. ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘It was him.’
‘Poyo!’ Kiyomi said. ‘But you had dinner already. No wonder you’re so fat. That was naughty.’ The creature lowered its head in shame.
‘Um, what is that thing anyway?’ Kenny asked.
‘Poyo? He’s tanuki. Japanese raccoon dog.’
‘Do you know why he was on my plane?’
Kiyomi paused. ‘I sent him. He’s been watching over you.’
Poyo nodded vigorously.
‘What do you mean, “watching over me”?’ A gnawing suspicion was growing in Kenny’s mind.
‘We sent him to America a few months ago, when we . . . We thought you might be in danger.’
Kenny rounded on the tanuki. ‘So you’re the one who’s been raiding my fridge at school? I thought I was going mad and kept blaming my room-mate. I got into a huge fight over that.’
Poyo’s ears drooped and he slunk away to hide under the table.
Kiyomi nodded. ‘I know. Poyo told me.’
‘What else did he tell you?’ Kenny’s ears were heating up.
Kiyomi exchanged a glance with her father. ‘Oh, nothing much. Just that you’re, er, very independent. He likes you, by the way. Says you’re much cleverer than you look.’
Kenny’s stomach rumbled again and he stood up, eyeing the door.
‘So why did I need this?’ he asked, holding up the bamboo whistle. ‘If Fatso’s been spying on me the whole time?’
‘Because here you’re going to need all the help you can get. In America, you were pretty safe,’ Kiyomi explained.
‘You just said I was in danger.’
‘It was your grandfather’s idea,’ Harashima said. ‘And it worked. We protected you and brought you here.’
‘And that makes it all right, does it? You know what? I’ve had enough of being here, wherever here is. I’m off. See ya.’
Kenny went to the door, slid it open and stopped. His path was blocked by the huge servant he had encountered earlier. The man was holding Kenny’s backpack.
‘No one is going to prevent you leaving,’ Harashima said, ‘but know that you do not choose your path; the path chooses you.’
Kenny rolled his eyes. ‘Isn’t that what Yoda said to Luke?’
Kiyomi took the backpack and held it out to Kenny.
‘Tell you what,’ she said, ‘let’s go get some air. I’ll buy you a burger, so at least you’re fed, and then I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go.’
Kenny’s eyes darted between the people in the room. ‘No strings?’ he asked.
‘No strings.’ Kiyomi held up three fingers, palm outwards with thumb and little finger touching. ‘Scout’s honour,’ she said.
Kenny allowed himself a smile. ‘I’ll bet you were never a Scout, or even a Girl Guide.’
Kiyomi handed Kenny his backpack. ‘See? Poyo was right: you are smarter than you look.’ She returned the smile.
‘Kiyomi-chan,’ her father said in a low voice, ‘be careful. They know he’s here.’
‘So,’ Kiyomi said, leading the way past the huge servant, ‘do they have McDonald’s where you’re from?’
The cool night air ruffled Kenny’s hair as he clung to the motorcycle. They rode down a long thoroughfare which seemed like a canyon made of light. Glass-fronted buildings towered on either side, brightly lit from within. On the outside they were decked with huge illuminated signs advertising cosmetics, electronic goods, soft drinks, cars and countless other products.
Pedestrians milled around everywhere, patiently waiting for the traffic lights to change; when they did, the crowds would break and spill across the roads in great waves.
Kiyomi passed a small temple, the reflected lights of skyscrapers glinting in the koi pond in front. She pulled into the car park of a McDonald’s restaurant and glided to a stop. Kenny dismounted and crouched to take a closer look at the motorcycle.
‘This bike,’ he said, ‘has no exhaust pipes.’
Kiyomi stood with her arms folded and watched, a smile playing on her lips. Poyo plopped to the ground and sprawled beside Kenny.
‘It’s also completely silent,’ Kenny said, finally working out what it was that had been bugging him ever since he had first set eyes on the bike and its mysterious rider. ‘What? How –?’
‘Ken-chan, I’d love to tell you, but I can’t since you’ll be leaving soon. Poyo, you stay here. And no going through the trash cans.’
Kiyomi pushed open the glass doors and went to the counter to order. Kenny caught up with her in the queue. ‘You know, you’re not fooling me with this whole I-don’t-need-anyone lone-wolf routine,’ she said. ‘You should trust us to help you.’
‘I can handle myself,’ Kenny said.
‘Really? So, Mr Independent, why don’t you order for us?’
‘Irrashaimase!’ said the girl behind the counter, looking expectantly at Kenny.
He stared at the illuminated photos of hamburgers above the counter with Japanese writing underneath, before flashing Kiyomi an embarrassed grin. ‘Um . . . could you do it, please?’
Kenny found a table by the window and watched his fellow diners. There were office workers on the way home, school pupils still in uniform, a couple of punk rockers, an old lady wrapped in a long raincoat. The place was much brighter and cleaner than fast-food restaurants at home.
‘Did you want a shake?’ Kiyomi asked, placing a tray on the table.
‘Sounds good,’ Kenny said, reaching for a fry. ‘Chocolate for me.’
‘Well, now it’s summer, so you can have melon, peach, banana or green tea.’
‘Oh . . . maybe later then.’
Kenny bit into his burger, savouring the taste. ‘I haven’t had one of these in years,’ he said, wiping a dribble of ketchup from his chin.
‘How come?’ Kiyomi dipped a fry into her peach shake.
‘It’s something . . . My mum would treat me, but . . . I stopped.’ Kenny put the burger down, blinking several times.
Kiyomi put her hand on Kenny’s. ‘It’s OK. I know about your mother.’
Kenny pulled his hand back and wiped a knuckle over his blurring eyes. ‘I don’t think about her much any more.’ He sniffed.
‘I lost my mother too,’ Kiyomi said, gazing into space. ‘But I was too little to remember her.’
‘I was six,’ Kenny said. ‘You?’
‘I was two.’
They ate the next few bites in silence.
‘Thank you,’ Kenny said.
‘Huh? For what?’
‘For not giving me the usual “I’m sorry” routine.’
Kiyomi laughed. ‘Oh God, I hate that. Everyone says it and I just