The Wings of Storm

(Deleted) Chapter 1

Dear Youka,

What's most annoying about having two bodies and living in separate worlds is that almost no one will believe you. So keep this memoir a secret or people will think I'm delusional.

Tahro Akagi.

July 22. Nine going on ten years old. Japan.

Rambling voices and an aroma of new books filled every nook and cranny of the shop. People scuttled around like ants. From toddlers who clung to their parents' arms, staring at picture books, to old people in the Archives section, leafing through newspapers of yesteryear.

A looming bookcase filled with manga demanded my attention. Each cover depicted the protagonists in heroic poses.

I squeezed my wallet, and its scratchy surface drew sweat from my palms. Four hundred yen, enough for one volume.

I tapped the top of the books, flipping some here and there. Where one beckoned me with promises of cool gadgets, another would do the same with the most marvellous creatures. One day, when I become a scientist, I'll earn enough money to buy this whole store.

Towards the end of the shelf, I pulled one out. Blade Fables. The book was white with red borders and a large number one on its spine. On the front were four kids; two of them holding strange swords; one reading a book much too big for his slight frame; and a tall boy with a cat-like creature perching on his shoulder.

Their eyes. They glistened.

I blinked, but the eyes of the characters on the cover still shone with an uncanny realness, like they were ever so slightly moving. It must've been a trick of the light, yet I couldn't stop staring. The air around me became lighter, more windy in a way. A shiver went up my spine.

I shook my head and turned the book. There, the blurb.

Ahio, Kaede, Tsubasa and Daisuke have graduated into swordsmen. Being from Heikisato, the town most famous for its swordsmen, they're supposed to be the best in the whole continent of Saishuu Riku. Finally, their years of hard work are going to pay off. And their first quest is... to escort a kid back home?!

A run-of-the-mill shounen manga. Who knew if this was any good? But the thought of leaving it behind left a bad taste in my mouth. I checked the price, wondering if I'd have enough change to get ice-cream afterwards.

Four hundred and twenty yen.

My heart sank. I riffled through my wallet, hoping I'd find twenty more yen somewhere in its folds. But there were none. I'd have to run back home to ask Mum for more cash. Would she give it to me, if I promised to study an hour longer tomorrow?

But what if someone bought it while I was away? I stared at the book, not wanting to place it back. I must hide it. Turning around to look for a good hidey-hole, I knocked against something behind me.

The word 'sorry' was halfway out my mouth before I saw who or what I'd hit. It was a who, a short raven-haired boy whose arms embraced several volumes. Some of the manga teetered on the edge of falling, and it was a wonder they hadn't already. A tinge of envy coloured my thoughts. How could he afford all that?

I remembered him from school. He was famous-- always in plays and spelling bees. Yes, Youka, that was your uncle. The one and only Yuuhei Shinguchi.

'Sorry!'

'It's OK,' said a high-pitched voice. 'Hey, you're Tahro, right? I've seen you at school.' Yuuhei grinned, a sharp tooth poking out from under his lip.

It wasn't every day that someone asked for my name without gushing over how I was a hafu. Being half Japanese and white wasn't all that it was blown-up to be. Sure, all my classmates wanted to be blonde with blue eyes. But when you were born with it, everyone and their mothers thought you were an interesting specimen to stare at and poke.

'Yes. And you're Yuuhei, right?' I smiled back.

'Yup. What kind of manga do you read?'

I was hoping that was that, and he'd leave. The store would close soon, and I needed time to convince Mum. 'Well, I like Digital Front, Pockeymum--'

'Pokeymum!' he exclaimed, his dark eyes flying open. Everyone stared at us. Yuuhei pursed his lips, and I waved my fingers in the air. He nodded and continued in a whisper.

'I love Pockeymum. Those little pokey sticks are awesome. We have so much to talk about.' He crept closer. 'By the way, am I quiet enough now?'

'Yes,' I said and chuckled. His darting eyes and frown made it seem as though we were discussing some secret mission.

Just as I was about to wish him a good day, one of his manga decided it had had enough and fell. As I picked it up and returned it, I asked a question that burned in my mind. 'Are you buying all that?'

'Yup,' he said. 'I'll let you borrow them if you'll look after them carefully.'

No way. Excitement bubbled within me, and a big smile grew on my face. 'Wow, really? Yes, I read books carefully.'

'Good. What manga are you buying?'

I glanced at the cover, at the characters with too real eyes. The clean winds returned, this time with whispers I could have sworn weren't from people around me. Where did they come from? I wanted, no, needed to know.

If only it wasn't so expensive.

'Blade Fables. But I-- I don't know if I can afford it yet. I'm twenty yen short.' I swallowed, bringing the book close to my chest. 'I'm going to go home and ask Mum for more money.'

'Oh. Can I see it?' He reached out for it. The pile of books in his other arm wobbled like pudding. I hoped it wouldn't fall. It'd cause a racket if it did. Everyone would stare at us again. What if we got kicked out? 'It looks interesting,' he said, giving it back. 'I've never heard of it before. Must be new.' Thank God, now he could hold his pudding with both hands. 'I'll lend you twenty yen.' Yuuhei grinned.

I thought I was in a dream, and my heart skipped a beat. 'Would you? But Mum always tells me not to accept charity.'

He snorted. 'She doesn't have to know. And I did say lending, didn't I? You can just give it back when we meet at school once you get more pocket money.'

I ran a finger down the book's spine. He was right. Relief washed over me, and I clutched the book tighter. I was glad he had stopped to chat. 'Okay.'

Yuuhei beamed and strutted up the aisle a few inches before being forced to duck his head and tuck in his stomach. The pudding of books swayed but remained intact. 'Yay. Now let's pay for these. Oof, excuse me, miss.'

I prepared to navigate the crowd, holding onto the book like a lifeline.

'Wanna come to my place after?' said a head now lost in the sea of bodies.

'Sure.'

Yet I can't remember what I did in his home. All I recall was longing for a breath of that fresh air again. Longing to hear those whispers and wondering why a chill had run up my spine. It was gradual, going to another world, like grains of sand slowly sucked into the bottom of an hourglass. And today was when the first grain fell.