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maayacolabackup“What are you doing?” Jin asks Kato, plopping down next to him on a cushion on the straw floor.
“Researching magical constructs,” Kato says, as he pours over the parchment unrolled in his lap. “I’m wondering how long they can last once created.” There are other parchments spread out too, across the office floor, and Jin wonders how long Kato has been at this today.
“The Lord of the West is the only person in the kingdom who can make them, right?” Jin asks, and Kato nods.
“Correct,” he says. “And they’re able to exist with or without him for an indefinable amount of time. I want to know exactly how much time that is.”
“Why?” Jin asks, and Kato looks up at him.
“Not much in the way of brains without your Inspiration, are you?”
“What does that even mean?” Jin mutters, irritated. “I’m just thinking that they don’t look like people, so they can’t act as spies, and if they attack, the Guardians always manage to defeat them. So why does it matter? Isn’t it a waste of time?”
“Knowledge is never a waste of time, Jin,” Kato says, looking up from the parchment. “You never know when information like that might come in handy.”
“I guess so,” Jin says. “I wish you could tell me how to make the Book let me go home.”
Kato smiles at Jin, but there’s something raw in it that Jin doesn’t understand. “If the Book won’t let you go home,” Kato says, “don’t you think that’s telling you something?”
“But what?” Jin asks, and Kato sighs.
“Go away, Jin, I’m studying.” Kato’s shoulders hunch forward. “Go bother one of the Guardians instead.” Kato’s voice catches, and Jin wants to sit beside him a little longer. There’s something lonely in Kato, that Jin recognizes from himself, from the way he’d felt when he’d been waiting, waiting, waiting to debut. Waiting for his chance. It was an anxiousness that filled him up all the way inside. But Jin hadn’t been alone then. It had been all of them, and they’d survived it together. Kato is alone.
“Kato,” says Nishikido, who has appeared, Jin thinks, out of nowhere. “I must speak with you.” He cuts his eyes at Jin, and Jin hauls himself up.
“Guess that’s my cue to leave,” Jin says, and heads out the door and back into the walkways. He admires the view for a moment, the way the trees are giving their last gasps of color as winter starts to roll in. Night comes earlier and earlier as the temperature plummets, and Jin’s teeth chatter if he stays too long outside these days.
Jin had originally gone looking for Kato to ask him about the Book, but Kato had seemed to think Jin should know the answer. Jin wishes people what stop thinking that just because Jin is the Storyteller Jin automatically understands the Book. Jin doesn’t. At all. He knows that sometimes it helps him, and sometimes it yells at him, and it guides him, too. Jin thinks the Book acts an awful lot like his mother, actually.
“What’s that face?” says a voice from around Jin’s waist, and he looks down to see Izumi standing next to him.
“I don’t understand my Book,” Jin says, and Izumi takes Jin’s hand in between both of her own.
“It’s just like a person, right?” Izumi says. “It’s got all kinds of sides. I don’t always understand my father.” Izumi tugs on his hand. “Do you always understand Pi-chan?”
Jin thinks about the look he’s been seeing more and more often in Yamapi’s eyes. He doesn’t understand that at all. “No,” Jin says. “I used to, but—“
“People are complicated,” Izumi says, nodding her head like she’s ninety instead of nine.
“You’re such a smart kid,” Jin says, and she is. Jin sometimes feels like he’s the younger of the two of them.
“Maybe I should be the Storyteller,” Izumi says. “I know more about them than you do.”
“Can’t deny that,” Jin says. “I just don’t know why Pi and I can’t get home… I don’t know why I can’t read the end of the Story.” Jin feels a little silly, ranting like this to a little girl, but Izumi just looks up at him with big eyes, round as the moon.
“But Jin, isn’t it obvious?” Izumi says, lacing the fingers of her left hand with his right, and looking out at the trees.
“Not to me,” Jin replies. “We found the sword, and that’s what we were brought here to do. What I was supposed to do. And so I should be able to go home. To take Pi home.”
“Jin, if you can’t read the end of the Story,” Izumi says, and she talks to Jin like he’s her little brother. “Then doesn’t that mean the Story isn’t over?”
Jin looks down at her, his left hand reaching into his bag to stroke the leather binding of the Book.
“But what’s left?” Jin says, and Izumi pulls her hand from Jin’s and pokes him in the stomach.
“Why are you asking me?” Izumi says. “You can’t rush a Story—it happens when it happens.” She pulls on her ponytail. “When my father tells stories,” and she says the word without the implied weight, “he doesn’t tell the end until it’s time for it. No one wants to hear about Momotarou defeating the demons on the demon island before he’s even born. He’s gotta be born first, right? The old lady and the old man find him inside a peach. The tale isn’t complete without that part.”
“Yeah,” Jin says. “You can’t rush a Story.”
Later that night, as Yamapi does crunches on his unfolded futon, Jin looks down at the Book in his hands, feeling it sing at him in delight as his hangs explore the leather. He knows every groove and dip of it now, his hands having memorized it completely.
“What if the story isn’t finished?” Jin says, and Yamapi grunts a response as he pulls himself up with tightly clenched abs. Jin’s gaze flickers over, but he immediately looks away again, pushing down the wave of magic that threatens to decorate the room in flowers. Jin’s not sure what color the flowers would be. “What if we’re still here because…we have to do something else?”
Yamapi collapses back, his chest heaving after what must have been hundreds of crunches. “I don’t know, Jin,” Yamapi days, his breath tiny gasps. “What else is there to do? Ueda will be Shogun. We found the magic sword. That seems like enough of a hero quest to me.”
“Me too,” Jin says. “Maybe we’re trapped here until Ueda actually becomes Shogun?” The thought makes his stomach sink, and Yamapi groans as tiny icicles crawl up along the walls.
“Jin, watch the magic!” Yamapi says, tugging on his shirt and tying it closed with the fasteners on the side. “It’s cold enough outside with your icicles of despair.”
“Sorry,” Jin says, and Yamapi exhales through his nose.
“Jin, there’s nothing we can do but be patient.” Yamapi shoves his hair out of his face. “I know you don’t like to accept things, just like I hate not being in control. But both of us need to realize that this…here, there aren’t any rules. At least, we don’t know them, if there are. So we have to figure them out, and that takes patience.”
“I’m not good at patience,” Jin mumbles, his chin falling to his chest.
Yamapi walks over to him then, and squats down in front of Jin, lifting Jin’s chin with his index finger. “Slow down, Jin. Appreciate these moments. We’ll get home, okay?” Yamapi looks into Jin’s eyes, holding his gaze there. The hair on the backs of Jin’s arms stands up, because the air feels almost electric. There’s something between them, something without a name, that’s making Jin feel like he’s on the verge of falling apart. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”
“How can you promise something like that?” Jin asks, so softly that it’s really more of soft rush of air than words, and Yamapi wets his lips.
“The same way you promised me everything was going to be alright when were just teenagers, and my family had fallen apart. How’d you know then?”
“I knew I’d take care of you,” Jin says, and Yamapi smiles.
“And now,” Yamapi says, “we’ll take care of each other, Bakanishi. That’s what best friends do.” Yamapi drops his hand, and stands up, walking back over to his futon and sitting down on it. “No matter what, we’re not alone. We’ve got each other.”
“You’re right,” Jin says, and fireflies fill the room, hovering near the lantern they’ve got lit next to Yamapi’s futon.
“What do the fireflies mean?” Yamapi asks. “This is the second time.”
“It means your pep talk is working,” Jin replies, sotto voice. “It means I trust you.”
There’s a pause, a stretching silence that Jin’s pretty sure doesn’t bother either of them.
“When we get back to our world,” Yamapi says, and his arms wrap around himself like he’s trying to chase away the cold in his own embrace. “When we get back, the world starts full speed again. You’ll leave for Los Angeles, I’ll go film a drama and thirty Toshiba CMs, and I’ll hear from you once a week if I’m lucky.” Jin wants to protest, but he can’t—there are never enough hours in the day, they both know that, and the time difference makes it harder. The lack of text messaging, just stupid thoughts and random cell phone pictures—that makes it harder too. “It’s nice, being here. Away. I know it’s scary, and sometimes all I want is to go home, to modern conveniences and—“
“Underwear,” Jin says, his voice reverent. “God, I miss underwear.”
“Well, yeah, and toothpaste, and coffee,” Yamapi says, and they both laugh at the silence that falls as they both think about coffee.
“I miss cigarettes,” Jin says, and realizes he hasn’t thought about them in months.
“I mean, there’s all that. I do want to go home, Jin, don’t get me wrong.” Yamapi scrunches his face up, and Jin notices the way his eyelashes are long and straight and thick and dark. “But this free time, right now? It’s peaceful. We completed the quest, and now there’s just this steady hush. It’s relaxing.”
“I get it,” Jin says, and the Book shivers its agreement.
“So as for me, I’m not going to stress out that the Book hasn’t sent us home yet, and that you haven’t been able to read the ending. Because I… sorta like being here with you. It hasn’t been just us against the world for a really long time.”
“I sorta like being here with you too,” Jin says, and it’s enough to calm him, to make it easier to put the Book down and climb into bed. It’s enough to let him peacefully close his eyes to the sound of his best friend’s breathing.
They’ll be okay, Jin thinks, because Yamapi’s promised they’ll be. That’s more than enough, Jin thinks, as Yamapi extinguishes the lantern and plunges them into the deep darkness of an autumn night.
There’s still something rattling in his bones though, like a premonition or like trepidation, and Jin’s just worried that this is the calm before the storm.
#
Winter is harsh. It seems to Jin like it starts to snow and just never stops, like they’re in a snow globe and there’s a constant white fluff falling from the sky. It’s like living in a Christmas card or something like that.
Yamapi hates it. He wakes up in the middle of the night shivering, and Jin finally gives up on unfolding his own futon, one night just getting into bed with Yamapi and letting Yamapi curl up against him and absorb Jin’s warmth, wrapping arms around Jin like Jin’s a hot water bottle. “So cold,” Yamapi whimpers into the hollow of Jin’s neck, and Jin covers them in both sets of blankets, and that’s how they manage to fall asleep.
On the day of the solstice, they celebrate the reemergence of Amaterasu, the sun goddess, from her seclusion in the cave of mystery, bringing sunlight back into the universe. Yamapi grumbles through the whole ceremony about the severe lack of sun to make the whole thing worthwhile, but Jin’s too busy trying to make sense of all the tiny things he still sees elements of in Japanese New Year’s celebrations. It’s the sort of thing Jin wants to talk to Kame about. He’d never thought he’d see the day.
There’s a great feast, and the rice sits warm in Jin’s belly, and for a while, he’s able to forget the cold in the warmth of a bottle of sake that he splits with Yamapi. It’s enough alcohol to make Yamapi uncurl his hands from under his many layers of clothes, and Jin is relieved to see him visibly relax despite the snowy weather.
As they all gather around the cooking pot, the steam heating their hands, Jin looks around at all the faces and realizes he’s become close to these people. Not like his KAT-TUN, but it’s different. Maybe because Jin is older now, but he appreciates the differences in them all now, how it makes them all more interesting.
There are missing faces though. “Where’s Kato?” Jin asks, and Kamenashi frowns.
“He and Nishikido both declined to attend our small gathering, opting to stay in Kato’s study. They’re apparently making some kind of ‘breakthrough’ in Kato’s research.”
“The stuff about magical constructs?”
“Is that what he’s working on?” Nakamaru asks, surprised. “I’m shocked he told you, he’s been very quiet about it.”
“He probably knew I wouldn’t get it,” Jin says. “So there wasn’t any danger in telling me.”
“Probably true,” Yamapi says, and Tanaka laughs.
“His assumptions or Jin’s reasoning?” Tanaka asks, and Yamapi laughs.
“Both,” Yamapi says, and then Izumi giggles at the look on Jin’s face. Jin makes the pot bubble over on accident, but everyone is too amused to be upset with him.
Then there’s a change, in the air. Jin thinks he senses it before anyone else, but not by much.
There’s a scream, and it pierces the night air like a warning. Suddenly all the wind chimes outside start ringing. Yamapi looks at Jin, but Jin doesn’t have any idea what’s going on either, because it’s not his magic, not this time.
“I take it that’s not you, then,” Kamenashi says grimly, and as Jin is nodding his head, the walls of the room burst into flames. “Or that.”
The smell in the air is one of torch oil, which answers Kamenashi’s question well enough on it’s own.
It’s not magic at all. It’s an attack.
It’s almost not enough warning, because moments later, about fifteen men in dark uniforms burst into the room in dark armor. Jin spots the crest though, on their arms. A burning red sun against a horizon line. “The Lord of the West,” Jin says, and Yamapi follows the line of his eyes even as he presses closer to Jin.
For what feels like eternity but is probably only a few seconds, no one moves. Then one of the men in black draws his sword decisively, and raises it above his head.
It’s chaos. The Five Guardians draw their swords almost as if they’re one, a slick motion of ingrained ease that Jin envies, in the small part of his mind that isn’t wondering where he should be hiding right now.
Kamenashi wastes no time giving out orders, his nasal voice barking at the other four in a way that has them moving immediately, whether he’s the leader or not.
Izumi screams, and pulls out of Jin’s hold, rushing toward her father even as Jin belatedly thinks he should hold her back. Tanaka looks at her with panicked eyes, but then his mouth straightens into a grim line.
Ueda looks pissed, mostly, and Jin’s glad that at least one thing is normal.
“Run!” Tanaka yells, lifting Izumi onto his back and retreating into a corner, so no one can get behind him. Jin watches as three attackers close in on him, swords drawn. But Jin knows he has to protect the Book, and that despite the fact that his magic, if he can manage to make it do something he want it to do, would probably be able to help, it’s not something he’s sure of, and with Yamapi and the Book on the line, it’s something he needs to be sure of.
Yamapi lunges and roughly grabs a handful of Jin’s shirt, and Jin stumbles backward. It sets him into motion though, and they take off toward the doorway, Jin with the Book in his arms. It’s humming at him, but Jin really can’t stop now for a read, he can’t. There’s no time. The room is slowly filling with smoke, too, and it’s making it hard to breathe. Jin’s not sure this room has ever felt so vast.
Yamapi is determined though, and Jin follows hot on his heels as they sprint. One attacker spots them as the make their way around the perimeter of the room, but Taguchi is faster, cheerfully kicking the man in the kneecap before he can even start making his way toward them.
They dash into the hallway and into the main part of the entrance, where the smoke is thinner but still lingers in the air. From here though, Jin can see that several other buildings are burning. It reminds Jin a little bit of a movie, the way everything stills to slow motion for a moment, and all Jin can see is the massive destruction.
Then Yamapi pulls them both into the corner of the room, behind a hanging tapestry, as two more attackers run by. Jin holds his breath, and he’s trembling, because he doesn’t want to get caught, not like this, and feels the tingle start in his belly, spreading out.
It starts to snow. “Only you,” Yamapi says, as he pulls Jin out from behind the tapestry as the two intruders start to search for them, “would give us away by making it start to snow inside.”
Jin winces, even as he starts to run again. They stumble outside, inhaling fresh air in huge gasping lungfuls, but the air is freezing, and in some ways just as crippling as the smoke had been, stinging and burning just as bad.
Jin can't see anything, because the snow is blowing into his eyes. Yamapi's got a hold of his arm, dragging him through the walkways and out into the courtyard. Jin is cold, and scared, and the Book is heavy in his arms. "Where can we go?" Jin yells, not sure if Yamapi will be able to hear him over the howling wind.
The sound of screaming and fighting is echoing behind them, and Jin is scared if he looks back, he'll see fire. He hopes the others are alright.
Yamapi tugs insistently on him, and Jin feels like his arm'll pull out of the socket if Yamapi drags him any more harshly. "I don't know," Yamapi says. "But we have to keep you safe. And the Book, too. It's all Kamenashi asked of me, and I won't let him down. I don't want to let you down, either." Yamapi is screaming, but Jin can barely distinguish the words.
The cold is biting at him, his entire frame shaking as pure adrenaline keeps him running. He can't see Yamapi anymore, as the venture further away from the buildings. Jin's pretty sure they'll make it though the gate, the proud pine gates somehow standing easily ajar, despite the fact that they lock from the inside, and giant stone walls protect the perimeter. It would have been impossible, Jin thinks, for someone to have scaled the walls without being seen. Jin remembers the first time they passed through this gate, tied up on the back of a horse and wondering where the hell he was, and thinks passing through it in the other direction now hasn't made him any more sure of his safety.
His ankle twists, a little, and he stumbles, and Yamapi's grip somehow loosens, releasing Jin's arm. "Jin! Where are you?!" Yamapi yells, frantically, and Jin reaches out blindly in front of him with one arm, trying to grab a hold of some part of Yamapi to anchor himself.
"I'm here!" He yells, and he doesn't know if Yamapi can hear him because there isn't response.
And now the smell of burning maple is drifting into Jin's nostrils despite the stinging wind and the thick scent of snowfall. Jin ventures a look back at the compound and the sky, through the haze of snow flurries, is filled with smoke. It sends a chill down Jin's spine that has absolutely nothing to do with the weather, and Jin watches for a moment, almost mesmerized, as the smoke billows up into the sky, and Jin can see the large red and yellow flames licking up as if they're trying to catch it.
"Jin!" He hears Yamapi yell again, and Jin spins around blindly, but where there's no fire like a giant beacon in the sky, Jin can't see anything at all.
"Pi!" Jin yells, and his voice cracks as he screams, the shivers wracking his body getting the better of him.
Yamapi is more sensitive to the cold than Jin is. Jin is just hoping beyond all hope that Yamapi is okay.
Strong hands latch on to Jin's arms, lifting him out of the snow. "Pi," Jin says with relief as he turns to look at his savior.
What's waiting for him, though, is not Yamapi at all. It's an obscured face, a black helmet and dark black leather armor, with a grip that's suddenly too tight, and Jin can feel the fingers digging in deep enough to bruise.
The figure doesn't say anything at all, and Jin tries to peer through the helmet, to look into the eyes of his captor, but there's nothing there. Black space. Nothingness.
It's not Yamapi. It's not Yamapi at all.
Another figure approaches. "Sir, we can't find the other," Jin's captor says, and Jin can't make out the other man's appearance but it's probably more of the same.
"Does he have the Book?"
"Yes," Jin's captor says, and Jin, on reflex, clutches the Book tighter to his chest. "I've got the Storyteller."
"The other one is inconsequential. Let him freeze to death."
Jin wants to whimper, want to cry out that they have to capture Yamapi too, that it's better to be captured than leave Yamapi all alone in the snow, with no idea where he is and with no one to help him.
Selfishly, Jin just doesn't want to be without Yamapi, because they're better together than apart.
"Let's just take him then," the man holding Jin says, and Jin feels himself being dragged along. It's freezing, now, and Jin’s vision starts to fade out as his body begins to shut down from the cold. The Book is hot, though, over Jin’s heart, but it’s not enough.
Jin feels almost numb, but he can still feel the icy prickling along his back as he’s dragged efficiently through the snow by the two men who seem to know exactly where they’re going.
Yamapi, he thinks, as it all goes dark.
#
When Jin wakes, it’s in what can only be a cell. His last cell had been a stable designed more for escape than for capture. This cell is made of hard dirt-packed walls, and cold dirt-packed floors. The door is wood, but there is no crack—no space for Jin to slip out and disappear. Jin thinks he’s probably underground, since he can hear things moving above him. He feels a little warmer, but not much.
Jin’s not at all surprised to find himself in the midst of another big problem, but he is surprised to find himself all alone. In every other situation they’ve been thrown into, Jin and Yamapi have been together, and to suddenly wake up with no idea where he is, withoutPi—everything seems much more terrifying than it seemed before, because without Yamapi’s comforting warmth by his side, Jin feels almost unbearably cold.
That could also have to do with the raging snowstorm outside, Jin supposes, but it’s mostly that Yamapi isn’t there. Jin knows himself after all, and Jin wouldn’t feel cold at all right now if Yamapi was curled up into his side, shivering melodramatically with his lips pressed into Jin’s shoulder.
Instead, Jin is alone, without Yamapi, or the Book, and it’s enough to make Jin wonder if he’ll ever get home.
It’s dark in the prison cell, and the floor is hard beneath him. Jin’s back aches, and he’s tight, muscles knotted, and Jin wonders how long he’s been here, unconscious.
Jin looks around the cell for an escape, but it seems whoever has captured Jin knows all the ways Jin would think to escape, because there are no windows, no drafts. No possibility of a breakout.
Jin doesn’t want to speculate on whether Yamapi is still outside in the snow, just as alone as Jin. He hopes he’s with Kamenashi, or someone else who knows what they’re doing, because Jin thinks one of them in this position is bad enough.
Jin wishes, despite himself, that Yamapi was here with him. He knows Yamapi probably made it, is probably somewhere safe, but Jin thinks it would be easier to be optimistic if he had Yamapi sitting back against the wall, warm and solid, telling Jin he needed to calm down and think things through.
Yamapi would probably already have thought of some kind of sensible plan to get them out of this mess, Jin thinks, even if he was quivering from the cold. Or at least made it easier for Jin to think of an outlandish one.
Jin remembers one time, when Jin was sixteen and Yamapi was fifteen, and they’d gotten lost in Shibuya. It had been the middle of the winter, and Jin had been so scared when night started to fall, because it was so cold and Yamapi’s lips were tinged with blue. Jin’s cell phone battery was dead, and Yamapi didn’t even have a cell phone at all yet, and Jin remembers the anxiousness that had settled into his gut like a lead weight. But Yamapi…he had just pressed his freezing and trembling frame closer to Jin’s, absorbing some of Jin’s warmth, and smiled. “We’ll figure it out,” he’d said, and Jin, in that moment, had believed him. Then they’d turned the corner and Jin had recognized the street, and Jin pulled them both along.
Later, when they got back to Jin’s house, Jin’s mom had fussed over them and wrapped a thick blanket around Yamapi’s shoulders, pressing tea into his hands and yelling at Jin about how dangerous it is to wander the streets at night, especially in the winter. When she’d swept out of Jin’s bedroom, probably to go downstairs and rant at Jin’s father at how worried she’d been, Yamapi had rested his head on Jin’s shoulder and sighed.
Jin can remember, too, how Yamapi’s hair had tickled at his chin, and how Yamapi’s skin had felt feverishly hot. “Everything’s always an adventure with you,” Yamapi said, and even though Jin was still uncoiling from the stress of the evening, he’d laughed.
“Isn’t that the fun of it?” Jin had said, and Yamapi had grinned up at him, eyes soft, and Jin knew, then and there, that if he ever had to go on an adventure, Yamapi was the person he’d want to have at his side.
He still feels that way now, twelve years later.
He imagines that if Yamapi were here right now, Yamapi would have some half-thought out plan, some idea, or at least body heat and a reassuring shoulder to offer.
But Jin is completely alone.
Jin’s surprised when no little trails of ice start to climb up the walls, like vines, because Jin’s magic is always an expression of how Jin feels, and right now, Jin feels so very, very dejected.
But Yamapi isn’t here, so maybe there isn’t any magic at all.
#
It comes to Jin, two days later, as he presses his forehead to his knees, hakama pants thick with mud that probably leaves marks on his face, that there might be a way to escape.
Every six hours or so, a guard will come by with food-- some rice and a bowl of soup on a tray. Then, after about forty minutes, that same guard will come and pick up the tray, after Jin has eaten.
Jin studies the guard, with his black armor and empty helmet, and prominent red sun crest, and realizes that they're probably like the men that Jin dealt with in the forest, those magical constructs or whatever Kato called them. Jin wonders if that means they disappear. But Jin doesn't have any magic to fight them with.
Jin, it turns out, doesn’t have any magic at all.
Jin gets angry, he yells and screams and curses, and there’s no fire. Jin thinks about how he’s trapped here, about how he doesn’t know if Yamapi is alive or dead or lonely or worried, and there is no rain.
There’s no magic at all. Jin doesn’t feel the tingle of it, and he knows it isn’t because he doesn’t have the Book. Jin didn’t have the Book when they first arrived at the East Compound, either, and even then he’d been making tiny fires and causing gusts of wind. Jin didn’t have the Book in his arms when he caused flowers to bloom in the courtyards either, the Book sitting peacefully back in his room, underneath of his pillow. So to be separated from the Book now, well, it’s a problem, because it pulls at his stomach and drags on him, that inside-out feeling that hurts and doesn’t hurt at the same time, this need that claws at him. But it’s not what’s taken away Jin’s magic.
Jin never thought he’d miss his magic. He’s been thinking of it, this whole time, like a cross between a nuisance and a loaded gun with no safety, something that causes way more problems for Jin than it solves. But now that Jin has gained a little control over it, a little more ability to use it when he wants, and to make it stop when he wants, too, well, now Jin can see all the ways it could get him out of this conundrum he’s found himself in.
But, well, Jin’s also not the type to give up. As Yamapi pointed out before, when Jin was overwhelmed by everything and just wanting to curl up and make it all disappear, Jin’s never been the type to just give up.
So he’ll have to do things the old fashioned way.
Jin waits until meal-time to start putting his plan into action. He giggles a little as he does so, and it feels out of place in this cell, with its barren walls and cool temperature, but Jin can’t help himself, because he feels a little like he’s Miroku put into a tight spot. It’s reassuring, if he thinks about it that way, because Miroku always gets out of tough situations. After all, Jin’s trying to ‘Make the Impossible, Possible’ here, so he’ll take comfort where he can find it.
When his food comes, Jin eats his rice and his soup, and stacks the bowls on the ground in the corner of the room, out of sight of the entrance, leaving nothing but the tray.
It’s when the guard comes back that Jin makes his move. He takes the tray firmly between his hands and stands right behind the door, holding his breath as the guard peeks in. The door stops half-opened, and Jin can sense the guard looking around, as if he’s puzzled. Jin wonders how much these magical people really feel; if they’re like robots, or if, for the short time they exist, they feel everything as deeply and intensely as Jin does.
Jin sure hopes not, because as the guard steps into the room a bit more, the door open behind him, Jin slams the tray down on his head as hard as he can. The guard makes this strange screaming sound, like the way a motorcycle sounds when you rev the engine for effect rather than speed, like the screeching of tires and the burning of gas, and he crumples to the ground as Jin looks on in horror.
Then, he dissolves, into a cloud of smoke. It looks like cigarette smoke, Jin thinks; the way it looks when Yamapi is sitting on the balcony of his flat trying to blow rings of smoke into the air but failing because he’s not as awesome and talented at it as Jin is. All that’s left of the guard is a memory, now, and the door is ajar.
Now Jin just has to find his way out of here.
Jin’s suspicion that he’s underground is supported by the way the hallway looks like it was tunneled out of soil and stone. Jin’s hands slide along the walls and he wonders if it’s magic that made it possible. Jin’s never been very interested in history, because there’s too much to see and do in the here and now, but Jin finds himself pondering, these days, about how things are made—weird stuff like that. Jin thinks maybe, just maybe, he’ll ask Kame about it when he gets back. When, not if, Jin reassures himself. When.
It’s colder out here in the hallway, too, and both directions Jin examines from the doorway to his cell look exactly the same. Jin needs to move fast, probably. Jin knows that someone, somewhere, will be suspicious when Jin’s guard never returns with the dishes. He might only have minutes. Jin’s not really used to thinking ahead like this, and he’s not sure what to do next.
A fierce pull on his gut reminds Jin of the Book, and Jin kind of wants to hit himself in the face at the thought. Jin hadn’t even considered using the Book to find his way, but it’s obvious to him now, as he leans against the wall at the wave of nausea.
Sure enough, when Jin closes his eyes, he sees the orange line straight from his navel, leading down the hallway to the left.
There’s a pang, then, when Jin opens his eyes, but it’s from his heart not from his insides. He can still feel the weight of Yamapi’s hands, heavy on his shoulders, guiding him as Jin leads with his eyes closed, through the maze-like walkways of the East Compound, protecting Jin while Jin concentrated on getting them to where they needed to go.
Jin doesn’t have anyone to protect him now. Jin doesn’t have the person he trusts to make sure he doesn’t stumble, to make sure he gets where he’s going. Jin has to do it all by himself.
And that’s fine. Jin’s done a lot by himself. It’s just that he’s worried about Yamapi, and worried about himself too, and everything is so frightening that Jin wishes they could be figuring this all out together right now.
Jin wishes Yamapi were here, an encouraging presence while Jin searches for street signs in the snow.
Jin presses his back against the wall of the hallway. The rock isn’t smooth, and tiny bits dig into the skin of Jin’s back as he slides along it. Jin can still hear the noises above too. Sometimes it’s just footsteps, and other times it sounds like the scuffling of chairs and tables. Jin closes his eyes again, so he can follow the orange line, and uses the wall as an anchor to keep him from bumping into things.
Jin’s eyes fly open though, when the wall disappears from beneath his left hand, and Jin realizes he’s reaches a large, open area, almost circular in shape.
There are rooms, lots of rooms, but Jin only needs one of them.
It seems to be a study, manuscripts and books lying opened and scattered across a desk. Even among all the clutter though, Jin sees the Book. Or feels the Book, calling to him.
When his hands fall upon the leather cover, Jin can feel the Book give a shudder of relief. It falls open with a sigh, and Jin bites his lower lip as the words appear. “Jin left the study, and went to his left, where he found a set of stairs that lead out into the day,” Jin reads, and he walks quickly out of the study, clutching the Book. He looks left, and indeed, there are stairs. He looks around quickly, eyes searching for danger, but just as it’s been since he escaped his cell, the floors are empty, devoid of any sign of life. He climbs the stairs, and his muscles ache, probably from sleeping on the cold ground.
It seems like the stairs go on forever, until Jin sees the light of day up ahead of him. When he emerges from the dark and into the sun, the biting cold wind chills him to the bone, and Jin looks down at the crunch of frozen snow underfoot.
It’s a mountain. Jin’s been inside a mountain, this whole time, and now he finds himself on a mountain trail, one that he thinks might wind down the mountain and into the woods. It doesn’t feel safe up here, with all the ice, and Jin presses his back against the rock-face to feel more secure. He doesn’t want to slip and fall down the mountainside now. Jin’s pretty sure that would make this the lamest escape in the history of escapes.
The Book is happily purring in his arms, and Jin lets its contentment soak into him, letting himself relax just the slightest bit. He’s made it out, and getting down the mountain will be the easy part, Jin figures. Dangerous, but easier than eluding guards and trying to navigate a fortress carved out of a cliff-side with his eyes closed.
A bigger problem is that Jin doesn’t know where he is, and has no way to figure it out. No map, no Book to follow home. The woods he sees, when he gazes down the trail and beyond, could be any woods, and Jin would have no way of knowing which direction to go or what to do when he gets there. Still, anything is better than a cell, Jin thinks, and it’s not like he hasn’t been lost before. Jin will survive. He always does.
“I should have known you’d escape,” a voice says, and Jin almost drops the Book. “I guess I didn’t give you enough credit.”
Jin feels the bottom drop out of his stomach as he turns to look at Kato, who sands in his green and black armor, the mountainside an imposing backdrop behind him.
“What?”
“I had thought you’d be utterly useless without your Inspiration, but it seems you’ve proven me wrong by getting in my way, again.”
“I don’t understand,” Jin says, gripping the Book closer to himself, feeling the warmth of it flow into him, easing the discomfort in his belly. “Aren’t you… why would you capture me?”
“I was correct, however, in my assumptions of your inability to make basic logical deductions,” Kato continues, a smirk on his face. “Can you guess?”
“You’re the Lord of the West,” Jin says, and Kato rolls his eyes.
“Obviously not,” Kato says. “Don’t you think the Lord of the East would know who the Lord of the West is? Ueda would have spotted me in an instant.”
Something about the way Kato says ‘Ueda’ and not ‘The Lord of the East,’ makes a proverbial light bulb ignite in Jin’s brain. “You’re the traitor!” Jin says, and Kato grins. “That’s why you needed to know how long the magical constructs would last.” A flicker of surprise in Kato’s eyes. “You can’t make them but you wanted to use them. Here. On me.”
It’s disturbing, Jin thinks, when Kato smiles, because it’s the way Shige smiles when he’s outsmarted Ryo when Jin sees them appear together on a talk show—like a cat that’s caught the canary. Jin had always liked that smile. “Correct,” Kato says.
“You’re the one that sent those assassins after Ueda?” Jin sucks his lip into his mouth. “And the one who allowed the attack on the Eastern Compound?”
“I am,” Kato says. “After all, if you think about it, is it really so surprising?”
“It would have taken two people to open that gate so quickly,” Jin says, and as he speaks, an image pops up in his mind, of Nishikido and Kato huddled together in conference. “Nishikido,” Jin says, and Kato’s smile curves upward on his face. It’s a pleasant expression, Jin thinks, but there’s something superior about it, too, and there’s nothing pleasant in the intentions behind it. “But why?” Jin says. Maybe Jin’s just being naïve, but he doesn’t really think Kato’s life is that bad that he should be plotting to kidnap people and murder the successor to the Shogunate.
“Why not?” Kato counters. “It’s not like I’m one of the Five Guardians. I don’t have any reason to be protecting any of their interests.”
Jin tilts his head to the side. “You’re jealous?” Jin asks, and the Book hums its agreement in his arms. Jin appreciates the heat—the air outside is harsh, stinging in his lungs.
Kato’s eyes leave Jin’s, dropping to the Book in Jin’s grasp. “Yes,” Kato says, and Jin, unbidden, remembers the interview Shige did for Myojo magazine back in September 2011. Yamapi had been upset about it, so Jin had read it. He doesn’t know why that comes to him now, but it fits. This isn’t Shige though; this is Kato. Two very different men, who made a wealth of different choices. “I’m jealous of you, too.”
Jin gulps, and takes a step back, just as Kato takes a step forward. “All that magic,” Kato says, “and you’re too frivolous to learn how to use it.” Kato moves forward again, and Jin takes another carefully measure step away. “I always wanted to be a Storyteller, ever since I knew what they were.”
“I’m trying my best,” Jin says. “I’m not really from here, you know. I’m sort of… winging it.”
Kato laughs. “I’m sure,” he says. “Regardless, I want the Book.”
“Aww man,” Jin says, purposefully keeping his tone light. “And here I’d just gotten over my stomachache.” His heel, when Jin steps back again, lands on nothing but air, so Jin chances a quick look behind him, and realizes he’s reached the last of the ground. Behind him waits nothing but the slanted fall of the mountain, and the forest below. The snow doesn’t disguise the sharpness of the rocks. It’s the end of the line, so to speak, and Jin has no way of protecting himself, and nowhere to run.
Kato notices. “You won’t have to worry about your stomachache soon enough,” Kato says. “You’re amusing but you keep getting in the way of my plans despite your incompetence. I’m afraid we’ll have to say goodbye here.”
Jin swallows, and Kato steps close enough to Jin that Jin can see the pores on Kato’s nose, even without his glasses. His breath is visible in the air, puffs of white in the chill. Kato has a thin line between his brows, too, and Jin tries to focus on that, rather than the pain in his heart that keeps wishing, more than anything, that Yamapi was here right now. Jin wants to see Yamapi so bad it overwhelms him. Jin needs Yamapi to be here, so everything won’t seem so bleak.
Kato snatches the Book from Jin’s hands, and Jin can’t fight, not without losing his balance and sending himself plummeting down to the rocks. Jin takes a millisecond to dismay at his lack of tactical planning, but then Kato is examining the Book in his hands, running reverent fingers along the spine. It makes Jin sick.
“It’s not like you can use it,” Jin says petulantly, and Kato looks up at him, eyes flashing with an anger that fades quickly to amusement.
“But I know someone who wants to see it,” Kato says. He studies Jin’s face, eyes drinking in every feature. “He’s stronger than you,” Kato adds finally, shaking his head, and then he steps close enough that the toes of his boots press against the toes of Jin’s. “Different than you.”
Kato pushes, and Jin manages to make himself fall to the side, legs falling over the edge of the cliff and pulling Jin with them. Jin’s hands grasp quickly onto the edge, and he’s holding himself up with only his arms. Jin’s never been on the more athletic end of the Johnny’s spectrum—he’s good at dancing, but the fact that he was a good singer meant that he’d been able to be lazier elsewhere, like in trampoline battles and pull-ups competitions between juniors. And to be honest, Jin’s never had very strong arms—he’d given up trying to keep up with Pi back in 2005, and now he only goes to the gym when he absolutely has to.
“Can’t we hug this out?” Jin says, a little hysterically, and Yamapi would have laughed at Jin saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, again, exasperated and annoyed. Yamapi would raise his eyebrow, with an implied Bakanishi and pretend everything was under control, even if it wasn’t.
“No,” Kato says. “Because I’m not coming down there, and I’m not going to help you up.” Jin watches as Kato steps away from the ledge, and feels the pull of the Book as Kato takes it with him. I’ve got bigger problems right now, Book, Jin thinks, and Kato does spare a soft glance at Jin. “I am sorry about this Jin. You never should have been pulled into this. But I guess even a Storyteller can be the victim of a plot twist.”
"Why'd you bother to capture me then?"
"The Lord wanted you alive," Kato says. "Probably sentimentality. But you... You're unpredictable. Dangerous to all our plans. He can't see that, but I can. You're consistently in the way, and leaving you alive to cause trouble would be a terrible mistake. Pity I'll have to tell my Lord how you killed yourself in a failed escape attempt."
And he’s gone.
Jin is terrified, his fingers slipping from their precarious hold on the ledge. I'm too young to die like this, Jin thinks to himself desolately. Below him, Jin knows there are only jagged rocks and probably death waiting, like the open jaws of a hungry shark.
He wishes Yamapi were here. It’s like a broken record. Jin knows if Yamapi were here, everything would be okay.
Suddenly strong hands wrap around Jin's elbows, and Jin opens his eyes. Yamapi's face, flushed red and eyes wild, stares down at Jin from the ledge, and Jin thinks his heart will beat right out of his chest. He wants to cry, with a combination of fear, and relief, and something else, a feeling so strong it makes him feel like a train careening off the tracks, racing at speeds that can only inevitably lead to a crash.
Yamapi hauls him up, and Jin scrambles over the ledge, knees digging for purchase in the ice and snow, and throws himself into Yamapi's arms, which automatically wrap themselves around Jin and pull him so tight Jin can't breathe, but it doesn't matter because Jin is shaking so hard that he figures it's only Yamapi's embrace that's holding him together.
"You're here," Jin chokes out, and Yamapi puts his lips to Jin's forehead, and Jin thinks Yamapi's heart might be beating as rapidly as his own.
"I found you," Yamapi says, and his voice breaks a little, and his arms tug Jin even closer, until Yamapi's every exhale blows against Jin's forehead, against Jin's sweaty bangs, and Jin's face is pressed into the curve of Yamapi's neck. "I finally found you." Yamapi sounds incredulous, like he can't believe that he's holding Jin in his arms, and Jin can't believe it either-- he'd never been so scared in his life, and at the end of it all, Yamapi is here. Yamapi is here, with a silly smile and a warm shoulder and a gentle hand tugging at the end of Jin curls.
Now, though, Yamapi isn't being gentle. His hands are digging into Jin's back, clutching Jin like he's afraid Jin will disappear into nothing if Yamapi lets him move even a little away.
"Pi," Jin says, and he lifts himself up to his elbows so he can look into Yamapi's face. "Thank you."
Yamapi's jaw is tight, and his eyelashes paint a stark contrast against the flushed pinks of his cheeks. "I was so scared," Yamapi says. "I was so afraid you were dead or captured or hurt or something terrible, and I wasn't going to be able to find you--" Yamapi stops speaking then, his lips pulling into a thin line.
Jin examines every inch of Yamapi's face, hands brushing across Yamapi's sweaty brow. His skin is soft under Jin's scraped hands, and Jin swallows because, suddenly, Yamapi is so incredibly beautiful.
Yamapi's eyes flutter open, and when their gazes lock, Jin feels a sudden surge of heat flash through him, burning in his belly and making him feel like he's on fire. Yamapi might feel it too-- he's looking at Jin in that strange way he's been doing lately, and Jin's not sure he isn't doing the same thing back.
Jin’s whole body starts to tingle, strangely, in a way that Jin hasn’t felt in days. It’s a slow build, like a yawn, or like Jin’s body is waking up.
"I'm okay," Jin says. "I'm fine." Jin's fingers linger along the curve of Yamapi's jaw, and Jin can feel that right now, they're crossing some sort of line, because Yamapi's fingers have slid up under Jin's shirt to rub slow circles into the skin of his back. It helps, Jin thinks, because his shaking is slowing, and his heart rate is too. “You found me.”
"Okay," Yamapi says, and then he pulls Jin down again, into another crushing hug that makes Jin think he could stay here in Pi's arms forever, because it's safe and warm and Jin feels anchored. Like no matter how crazy things seem, Yamapi can hold him and it's all going to be alright. "Okay," Yamapi says again, and exhales.
Jin's lips brush against the salty skin of Yamapi's cheek as they lay there, soaking in each other's presence after three terrifying days of being apart. Jin feels like he's got his right leg back, or like he'd been living with one lung and now, suddenly, he can run and breathe in. Everything is better, now that Yamapi is here. Everything. Jin licks suddenly dry lips, and his heart spasms.
"I'm glad you're here," Jin says. "I'm kind of hopeless without you."
"You're hopeless with me too," Yamapi says, and his chest rumbles against Jin's, and it makes Jin want to laugh as well. Relief is like an elixir in his veins.
"Well, at least then you're around to pick up the slack. My prince~" Jin says teasingly, but his voice wobbles a bit.
"The Princess and the Pi," Yamapi says, and his voice is wobbly too.
Jin doesn't want to move, but he knows they should. They might not be safe here, and if they ever want to get home, they've got to find Kato and get the Book back. "We've got to get the book, Pi." Jin pulls himself away
"Yeah," Yamapi says, after Jin has pushed himself off of Yamapi and up into a sitting position. "And we don't even know where it is."
"False," Jin says, a smile stretching across his face. "You don't know where it is. I, on the other hand, know exactly where it is. Or at least, how to find it." Jin rubs at his abdomen, where, if he concentrates, he can feel the faint humming of the Book calling for him. "It's my Book, after all." Jin stretches his arms above his head, the muscles pulling. He aches all over, and scratches and cuts line his arms. "And I think it's about time we got it back, don't you think?"
“Well, yes, but we need a plan for that, don’t you think?” Kamenashi says, and Jin looks up to see the Five Guardians there, small smiles on each of their faces as Jin turns beet red and fumbles to stand up. Yamapi quickly lifts himself of the ground, dusting off his hakama before grabbing Jin’s forearms and pulling him up too, which just makes Jin go even darker red, all the blood in his body climbing up his neck to his face. Tanaka lets out a deep laugh as the snow suddenly bursts into life with pink flowers, large and vibrant. This time, a few pomegranate trees come along too, rumbling up from the ground and sprouting fully grown in the throes of winter, the red fruits matching the new darkness of Jin’s blush.
“Oh yeah,” Yamapi says. “I didn’t come by myself.” His voice is sheepish, like he’s forgotten that others were going to be coming.
“And we tried to tell you not to go running off, too, but you’ve been impossible lately,” Ueda says gruffly, face flat with mild displeasure, which Jin thinks means he’s not actually displeased at all.
“How did you…” Jin’s shaking, now, because the reality of what just happened is suddenly hitting him hard, and now that the adrenaline is bleeding away, it’s being replaced with heart-stopping fear. “How’d you find me? Kato--”
“We figured out that Kato was the spy right before we found Yamapi, after the snow-storm ended. There wasn’t really another explanation. No one else could have opened the door. Everyone else was accounted for." Nakamaru says. "And this place? I'm pretty sure it's an abandoned hideaway. This style of secret compounds was very popular in the reign of the last Emperor. We had no idea it existed, at all."
"Then..."
“We didn’t find you,” Taguchi says, juggling three pomegranates without taking his eyes off Jin. “Yamapi found you.”
Jin turns to Yamapi, who’s looking at the ground, examining a bright pink flower. Jin thinks he can see the faintest beginnings of a blush on his face, too. Yamapi has always been less transparent than Jin himself, though, so Jin can’t say for sure.
“They say Inspiration always finds us in the strangest places,” Kamenashi says. “And Yamapi is your Inspiration.”
“What does that mean?” Jin asks. “People keep mentioning it, but you haven’t explained. I don’t get it.”
“Well,” Nakamaru says, nose scrunched up in thought. “They say a Storyteller is nothing if they don’t have Inspiration.”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Kamenashi asks, with a tiny grin. “About your magic?”
Jin thinks back over the past few days, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he ponders. “About my magic…I didn’t use any magic,” Jin says, looking at Kamenashi in confusion. “I didn’t use any magic at all. I couldn’t feel it.”
“And you didn’t feel frustrated, or scared, or angry at all?” Kamenashi asks, and Jin huffs.
“No, of course I did! I was all alone, and I didn’t know what to do, only that I had to get the Book back…” Jin’s voice trails off. “I remember thinking, ‘I can’t control my magic! Things should be setting on fire all over the place!’ But there was nothing.”
“Yes,” Taguchi says, and then he cackles. “Nothing. You know why? Because you didn’t have any magic.”
“But of course now, when I don’t need it, I have magic!” Jin says. “Look at all these stupid pink flowers!”
“And what’s different between then and now?” Ueda asks. “Are you really this dumb? I feel like I’m talking to a toddler.”
“The difference…” Jin says, and then a cold gust of wind chills him to the bone, and Yamapi automatically moves closer, the back of his cold hand hitting the back of Jin’s. Jin’s eyes widen at how cool Yamapi’s skin feels, and he quickly turns and grabs both of Yamapi’s hands, rubbing them between his own. “You’re always so cold,” Jin says, and he blows warm air to help.
“Why me?” Ueda asks the sky, hair falling back behind him like a black curtain. “Why?”
“Hello?” Tanaka says. “Isn’t it obvious to you?” He’s smirking at Jin when Jin looks over.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Yamapi says, and Jin’s head snaps quickly back to his best friend. “Jin can only do magic when I’m around. Because he’s the Storyteller and I’m his Inspiration.” Yamapi coughs. “Right…?” He trails off, suddenly looking a little embarrassed, but Jin can’t be sure. It sucks, Jin thinks, that the person whose emotions are always on display anyway is the one who ultimately makes giant pink gay flowers bloom every time he’s embarrassed, and Yamapi, who is Too-Cool-To-Physically-Emote gets to keep his secrets.
“What?” Jin says, as Yamapi’s words catch up to him, sinking down into his bones so fast he knows they must be true. “That’s why Kato laughed at Yamapi when Yamapi said he’d just been dragged along on my adventure! He knew…”
“We all suspected,” Kamenashi says. “But we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure.”
“And when were you sure?” Yamapi asks, pulling his hands from between Jin’s and shoving them under his armpits.
“When you were able to find Jin,” Ueda says. “Only a Storyteller’s Inspiration could find someone like you found Jin.”
“There was a pull, in my chest,” Yamapi says. “Like the way Jin says he feels when he doesn’t have the book.”
“Yes,” Kamenashi says. “And now the two of you are reunited.”
“But where are we?” Jin asks.
Nakamaru sighs. “We’re actually not so far from the Eastern Compound. We should be able to get back fairly quickly.”
Ueda crosses his arms, and looks out across the landscape to where what Jin surmises is Lord of the West’s fortress can be seen against the sunset skyline. “That’s great,” Ueda deadpans, “But we still have two major problems.”
“We have to defeat the Lord of the West. He’s come into our home, and threatened my family. Clearly, he can’t be left alone now, and he’s not going to accept the Shogun’s decision,” Tanaka says, and Yamapi nods.
“And we have to get the Book back to end the story, so that Jin and I can go home.”
“Right,” Ueda says, and Kamenashi grimaces.
“So really, now we’ve only accomplished one out of three of our objectives,” Kamenashi says, raising his arms above his head to stretch out the muscles in his back. It’s something his Kame would do, Jin thinks, the cat-like motion making his eyes squint, and Jin feels a pang of homesickness so bad it nearly topples him.
It’s comforting, having these…doppelgangers of his old band-mates here, but he misses the real ones. He misses pizza too, and his mom, and washing machines and his Wii, and other things, too, like his brown silk sheets and the smell of cigarette smoke.
At least, Jin thinks, Yamapi is here. Yamapi chooses that moment to lean his head on Jin’s shoulder, curling closer for warmth as Jin wraps his arm around Yamapi’s back. Yamapi smells like burnt pine, and Jin wonders if it’s from the fire they all must have shared last night.
“One out of three is terrible, really,” Nakamaru says, and then he twists his mouth to the side in a pout. “Ah, people will start to wonder if the Shogunate will really fall into nefarious hands.”
“Guess we’ll have to take out the next two in one blow,” Taguchi says, and before Jin can even blink, he’s drawn his short-sword and sliced two of the pomegranates in the air, catching the third whole one in the crook of his elbow while offering Jin and Yamapi the fruit, sans crown.
Jin takes a pomegranate in hand, admiring the rich red color of the seeds. He sucks a few of them into his mouth, and they’re juicy, bursting with flavor on his tongue. The juice runs down his face though, and Yamapi laughs even as a trail of red drizzles down from the corner of his own lips. “Bakanishi, you’re making a mess of it!”
“So are you,” Jin says, pointedly reaching up and wiping his thumb along the corner of Yamapi’s mouth to catch the juice. “Hypocrite.”
Yamapi’s mouth is red from the fruit, his lips stained dark, and Jin, for some reason, wants to taste them too. His eyes widen at the thought, and he tears his eyes away from Yamapi, studying the snow and trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.
Where did that come from, Jin asks himself, and his heart is thudding in his chest. What does it mean?
The ground begins to shake along with Jin’s thoughts, rattling until the pomegranates are falling from the trees, landing around the roots, red blemishes against the pure white snow. “Jin, calm down,” Ueda snaps, and Jin takes a deep breath to center himself, and the shaking ceases.
“What emotion was that?” Tanaka asks, eyes round and studying Jin like Jin’s got a third nipple on his forehead or something, and Jin won’t meet his gaze.
“I dunno,” Jin says. “Maybe it’s because I’m so anxious about getting the Book back,” Jin continues weakly, and Kamenashi nods.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” Kamenashi says. “So no need to cause earthquakes, Jin.”
“Right, sorry,” Jin mutters, still not looking up.
“We should head back,” Ueda says. “It’ll take two days hard riding to reach our home, and we aren’t prepared to face the Lord of the West quite yet.”
“Jin,” Yamapi says. “Let’s go.” He walks away, following Kamenashi towards the horses, the two of them talking animatedly about something. Yamapi is still shivering, Jin notices, and the urge to wrap his arms around his best friend until he’s warm again is fierce.
“You’d better be careful,” Nakamaru says, and Jin’s eyes meet his. Nakamaru’s eyes are knowing. “You’ll make the ground shake again.” Nakamaru unfurls a blanket and wraps it around Jin’s shoulders, and Jin snuggles into the warmth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jin replies, putting his hands up to cover his face, the blanket draped over his arms. Jin’s nose is cold, and at the touch of Jin’s hands it stings. Nakamaru sighs, and puts a tender comforting hand on Jin’s shoulder, and then walks ahead, leaving Jin alone with his thoughts.
Jin is lying. He does know what Nakamaru’s talking about.
Because the shaking of the ground has got nothing to do with the Book at all. It’s the foundations of Jin’s world shaking. It’s Jin’s breath shuddering in Jin’s chest. It’s Yamapi, with his calm smile and gentle eyes, reaching into Jin’s chest, wrapping around Jin’s heart, and making Jin’s insides tremble.
Realization makes Jin want to quiver and quake until he falls to pieces.
Part 6
