“Things don’t have to make sense for them to be real.” She took his hand and pressed it over her chest.
Keishin felt Hana’s heartbeat through his palm. Though shelooked like a drawing, Hana was still soft and warm to the touch. She was solid. Real. “There aren’t enough questions in the universe to make me fully grasp any of this. I still don’t even know what happened to your mother.”
“The Shiikuin executed her for stealing a choice from our vault.”
“What? Why?”
“Because all the choices we collect in the pawnshop belong to them. Stealing from the Shiikuin is the highest of crimes. I was a baby when they came for her, and all I know about that day is what my father told me.”
“But now you believe that she may be alive.”
“I…” Her voice cracked. She turned away and hurriedly dabbed at a tear. “I do not know what to think.”
“Hana…”
“I told you that I could handle this on my own. Go home, Keishin. One jump will take you back.”
“Back to what? To the ramen restaurant? To my hotel? To my job at Super-Kamiokande? All the years I obsessed about the mysteries of the universe, trying to explain how everything began, was a complete waste of time. That ‘everything’ turned out to be only one side of a very strange coin. How can I pretend that any of that matters when I’m standing inside a scroll?”
“Of course it matters,” Hana said.
“Does it?”
“It matters to you. Is that not enough?”
“It used to be.” Keishin sighed, shaking his head. “Look, we’re here to find out the truth about your mother. I’m not leaving until we do.”
Hana looked down the street. “I am hoping that the Horishi will have some answers.”
“A tattoo artist?”
“Thetattoo artist. There is only one Horishi in our world.”
“And this person will be able to tell us if your mother is alive?”
“The Horishi’s ink will.” Thunder rumbled over Hana’s voice.
Keishin looked up at the paper sky. He took some comfort in knowing that even in this strange world, one rule remained true. The weather still didn’t like him. Fat drops of rain burst from the sky and splattered over his face. “Then we should find this Horishi and his ink before we get soaked and—” Keishin gasped, staggering back.
Rain ran down Hana’s cheeks and snaked down her neck. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Hana…” Her name caught in Keishin’s throat. “You’re glowing.”
—
As was the custom, Hana’s father took her to the Horishi when she was a month old. She remembered nothing of the visit, but whenever it rained, a souvenir from that trip glowed on her skin. Pictures and words appeared in bright blue ink wherever raindrops touched her, narrating the story of the life she was fated to live. No crossroads. No detours. Just a single path in a map of blue over almost every inch of her body.
When she was younger, Hana liked to stick her arm outsidethe window and watch the scenes the Horishi had etched onto her skin come to life. Wisps of steam curled up from tattooed teacups. A tiny moon swam in a little pond. Caged birds sang a silent song. On her wrist, an empty cage’s door opened and closed in time with her pulse. But with every shining bird she locked away, it grew more difficult to tell which side of the ink bars she was standing on. When her father’s retirement drew near, Hana found herself soaking longer in steaming baths, trying to scrub herself clean.
“Do not look at me.” Hana pulled her collar closer around her neck. “I’m hideous.”
“What? No. No. I was just surprised. That’s all. I swear. There’s nothing you need to hide. You’re still…” Heat rose up Keishin’s neck. “Beautiful.”
“Be careful.” Hana tightened her grip on her clothes. “Lying is becoming a habit for you.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then you are blind.” Hana’s knuckles paled around her collar. Tiny glowing origami cranes flew in an unchanging path around her wet fingers.
