“Do as they say, Toshio,” Chiyo said. “You do not need to see this. I do not want you or Hana to be here. This is not a memory that I wish either of you to keep.”
—
The two Shiikuin led Chiyo to the pawnshop’s door, gripping her arms tight. Chiyo wondered if fading away was going to be quick or painful. She didn’t imagine that it could hurt more than letting her daughter go. The Shiikuin on her right closed its talons around the doorknob and pulled the door open, then it stopped suddenly and pushed the door shut. Both Shiikuin closed their eyes and bowed their heads, tilting them slightly as though trying to listen to something faint or far away.
“It will be done,” they said, responding to someone Chiyo couldn’t see or hear. They lifted their heads and looked at Chiyo.
“What’s going on?” Chiyo said.
“We have changed our mind.”
“What?” Chiyo gasped.
“We have decided that you require a punishment more fitting of your crime.” The two Shiikuin angled their heads, allowing shadows to morph their unmoving plaster lips into a sneer. “Death is more than you deserve.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Family
Haruto leaned against the wall, his lips pale. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. He closed his eyes, drawing tired breaths. “I wish I could tell you more, Hana,” he said, his voice frail, “but that was all that fragment of bone would reveal. If I had the amount I used when I folded time for your father, I might have been able to see where they had taken your mother. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You have already done so much for me. Too much.” Hana eased him back onto the futon. “I do not know how I can ever repay you.”
Haruto smiled up at her and stroked her cheek with his bandaged hand. “There is nothing that needs to be repaid.”
Hana stiffened at Haruto’s touch and glanced at Keishin. He looked away.
Haruto drew his hand back, his smile erased. “There is nothing to be repaid because we are no closer to finding your father than we were before I folded time. We still do not know where your parents are. The paper told us nothing.”
“No,” Hana said. “It told us the most important thing. The Shiikuin kept my mother alive. She was not erased.”
“What do you think the Shiikuin meant by ‘a punishment more fitting’ of her crime?” Keishin asked.
Hana shook her head. “I don’t know.”
The paper door slid open. Masako stepped through it. “It is time for you to leave. You have what you came for. Do not put my son in any more danger.”
Haruto pushed himself up from the futon, wincing as he sat. “They should stay. This village is the safest place for them to be while we try to figure out what the Shiikuin meant.”
“We?”Masako said. “This is their problem, Haruto, not yours. You should never have involved yourself in any of this.”
“I owe Ishikawa-san my life.”
“You owe him nothing. He would not have needed to save you if Chiyo had not—” Masako cast a sharp glare at Hana. “You owehernothing.”
“Hana is family,” Haruto said.
“Not yet,” Masako said. “She is not yet your wife.”
“She will be. Her name is written on my skin as clearly as my father’s name was written on yours. Do you wish me to stray further from my path and anger the Shiikuin more?”
Masako shook her head and sighed. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“Then it is settled. Hana and her friend will stay with us while we try to find out where the Shiikuin took Hana’s mother,” Haruto said.
Hana gently touched his shoulder. “It is not right to put you in any more danger. We should leave.”
“And where do you intend to go, Hana?” Haruto said. “If you leave without a plan, you will only be giving the Shiikuin a better chance of catching you.”
