Jason Rohan

The Stone of Kuromori


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tank. ‘It’s compressed air. Put the rubber flange inside your mouth and breathe through your mouth only. Breathe in and out steadily until you get used to it.’

      Kenny did as he was told and felt the dry air push into his lungs. He forced the breath out and inhaled again. It was a weird sensation and it made his throat burn, but with Kiyomi counting time on her fingers, he soon relaxed into a regular pattern.

      At Kiyomi’s signal, he pulled out the mouthpiece and worked his tongue round his teeth. ‘Urgh. I sound like Darth Vader with that thing.’

      Kiyomi nodded. ‘OK, that’s a good start. Remember, when you’re in the water, always breathe like that, slow and steady. Don’t hold your breath, ever, and if your ears start to fill up, or hurt, you need to pop them like this.’ She pinched her nose, closed her mouth and pushed air out. ‘You can also swallow, waggle your jaw, whatever works.’

      ‘Like going up in an aeroplane?’

      ‘Same principle, only you’re going down where there’s greater pressure.’

      It was daunting, having so much to remember, but Kenny wasn’t going to let on. ‘What else?’

      For the next twenty minutes, Kiyomi walked Kenny through the basics of scuba-diving: hand signals, use of the buoyancy control device, how to clear the mask of water, one-handed weight belt release, where to find the backup air supply.

      ‘It all looks so easy on TV,’ Kenny grumbled.

      ‘Do you two know what you’re looking for?’ Charles asked, coming over to the rear of the deck. He aimed a finger downwards.

      ‘No.’ Kiyomi shook her head. ‘But Susano-wo wasn’t being subtle. The stone is down there somewhere. Who knows? Maybe it’ll find us.’

      Dawn painted the sky with pastel fingers of lemon, rose and lavender by the time Captain Mike powered down the engine and chugged to a stop.

      ‘This is us,’ Kiyomi said, looking north over the gentle waves towards the soaring cliffs of Yonaguni island.

      Kenny lay on his back, grunting and wriggling to pull on his wetsuit. He had both legs in, but despite all his stretching and squeezing, he was struggling to pull it up past his waist. ‘This . . . thing . . . is impossible,’ he complained.

      ‘Let me help,’ Kiyomi said.

      ‘No, I can do this,’ a red-faced Kenny declared.

      Five minutes later, he stopped to catch his breath, one loose sleeve flapping behind like an elephant’s trunk.

      ‘Shoulda let the girl help,’ Dwayne said, resting his foot on the gunwale. He was kitted out with all his diving gear, unlike Matt who was still in shorts.

      ‘Oh, wait,’ Matt said, from beside him. ‘He’s trying to impress her.’ He laughed. ‘Real smooth, dude.’ He began to unzip his long holdall.

      Kiyomi glared at them both, reached over and, with one firm tug, snapped the wetsuit up to Kenny’s neck.

      ‘Ow.’ He squirmed. ‘You’ve given me an almighty wedgie.’

      ‘Here.’ Kiyomi helped him pull the scuba-tank harness on over the buoyancy jacket and then fitted on the weight belt.

      ‘This stuff weighs a ton,’ Kenny said, holding on to the railing for support.

      Kiyomi slipped into her harness, positioned the breathing regulator and checked the instrument panel.

      ‘What’s the plan?’ Dwayne said. ‘Are you kids just going for a swim round the ruins or is there anything else you want to do?’

      ‘Just a dive,’ Kiyomi said, reaching for a knife to strap on to her leg.

      ‘Nuh-uh,’ Matt said, with an unmistakable tone of menace. ‘No knives down there. You might get hurt.’

      ‘What?’ Kiyomi rounded on him. ‘Every diver carries a knife, in case they get tangled –’ She broke off as she saw the speargun in his hand aimed directly at her chest.

      ‘But not you. Hand over the knife, real slow, and nobody gets hurt,’ he ordered.

      ‘No move!’

      Kiyomi looked up to see Captain Mike pointing a flare gun at Matt.

      ‘My boat,’ he barked. ‘I boss.’

      ‘Not any more,’ Dwayne said, pulling out a heavy knife and brandishing the tip in the captain’s direction.

      ‘Kenny, don’t do anything stupid!’ Kiyomi warned.

      ‘As if,’ Kenny said, his body straining under the weight of the dive equipment.

      Charles rounded on Matt. ‘What’s going on? If this is a hijack, we have nothing of value. I let you have a lift as a favour and –’

      ‘Cool it, Gramps!’ Matt yelled back. ‘Or should I say “Professor”?’

      Charles flinched. ‘How do you –?’

      ‘Oh, please. Just cos I pump iron doesn’t mean I’m stupid. There aren’t that many gaijin in Japan. First thing I did was check the hotel register to find your name. A quick Google search and I knew exactly who you were.’

      ‘A history professor coming all the way down here to check out the ruins only means one thing,’ Dwayne chimed in. ‘Treasure.’

      ‘Oh, don’t be absurd,’ Charles started.

      ‘Then why did we hear you talking about a jewel on the bottom of the sea, huh?’ Matt challenged.

      Charles raised his hands in a calming gesture. ‘Kiyomi, put your knife on the deck and kick it over to Dwayne. Matt, take your finger off the trigger. We don’t want any accidents, do we?’

      Kiyomi glowered at Matt. ‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘This time last month, I’d have been mad enough to see how good you are with that thing.’ She stooped and sent the sheathed knife skittering across the planks. Dwayne stopped it with his foot.

      Matt lowered the speargun. ‘You’d be dead then. I never miss.’

      Captain Mike swore in Japanese and put the flare gun back in its case.

      ‘Here’s how it’s gonna be,’ Dwayne said. ‘Me and the kids are going for a swim. They’re going to show me where this treasure is and in return I’ll make sure they get back up here safely.’

      ‘And I’m going to stay on deck with Britney here’ – Matt patted the speargun – ‘to make sure no one tries anything cute.’

      ‘But what if there’s no treasure?’ Kenny asked, sweat plastering his hair to his head.

      ‘Let’s just say we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’

      ‘I told you we couldn’t trust those meatheads,’ Kenny griped while Kiyomi gave his equipment a final check.

      ‘Really? You think now is a good time for I told you so?’ she fumed. ‘Put your regulator in and start breathing.’ Kenny pulled down his mask and waddled to the edge of the dive platform. ‘Here’s where normally you take a big stride into the water, but in this case . . . Eyes on the horizon!’ Kiyomi planted a foot firmly against Kenny’s backside and pushed.

      ‘AAAAGH!’ Kenny grabbed his mask and regulator to hold them in place before plunging into the sapphire sea amid a cloud of white bubbles. Water flooded into his mask and he kicked upwards, thrashing to the surface before he remembered he could breathe.

      Kiyomi splashed down beside him, rose and gave a thumbs-up