The Wings of Storm

9.1- Tussling in Turnip Town

A/N: Hey guys! I'm finally done with edits (the major ones from 1.1-2.1 anyway). To my old readers (before July 27 2019), there are some additions to the scene where Tahro pretends his ruler is a sword (in 1.3) that are important later. It introduces an aspect I was going to reveal later, but decided to do at the beginning instead due to the advice of a critic. I've also shuffled the chapters a bit, so the incident at Kabuba (7.3) is now 9.2. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the edits as well if you check them out ^^!

February 17. Fourteen and a half years old. Japan.

'I ran away as soon as I could.' I pulled at my bangs with a sweaty hand. Memories from my other self from last night's meditation still swam in front of my eyes. My platter of noodles stayed untouched, although it was nearly the end of our lunch break. I'm going to get gastritis at this rate. If only Mum knew it was all because she'd taken my phone, and I had no other time to talk to Yuuhei.

The laughter of chattering students and the clatter of cutlery masked our conversation. Yuuhei sat across me, his half-finished dish forgotten. He stared, jaw dropped. 'Are you sure they didn't notice you?'

'Y-yes.' At least, I hoped not. Surely, they'd have caught me if they'd seen me. But the way the Minister had looked at the door rang alarm bells in my mind. No, I'm overthinking this. At any rate, there was no need to worry Yuuhei.

'You should be careful, Tahro,' he said, leaning forward. He fiddled with his chopsticks, playing with the noodles in his plate. 'I don't want you to get hurt.'

'I'll do my best.' I smiled.

But his frown remained, as though he wasn't convinced.

He slouched back, opening his mouth but cutting himself off a few times. I took the opportunity to have a bite of my meal, wondering what it was he found so hard to say.

'Listen, you might not agree.' Yuuhei sighed, not meeting my eyes. 'But I don't think you should go to Minister Banji about the witch just yet.'

I laid down my chopsticks, trying to wrap my head around what he'd said. 'But she's dangerous! What if she kills more children?' Hana's lifeless body still visited my dreams. If only I'd known sooner as I had about Ahio.

'Do you really think you can explain how you know about it to the Minister?' asked Yuuhei. 'He'd think you're in cahoots with the witch or something.'

Frowning, I clenched my fists. I hated how right he was. A shiver of disgust rattled my bones at the thought of being associated with a murderer like her. 'Still, this is bigger than me. I can't just let her get away with it.'

Yuuhei placed his chopsticks down. 'That's not the problem. He already thinks you're a spy. If you tell him this, he'll suspect you're trying to sidetrack them. That'll just make everything worse, and next time, you won't have the option of saving anyone.'

He's right again. Barging in could ruin everything. Perhaps waiting a little longer to come up with a clearer plan was the best solution. But I couldn't shake off my impatience. I wanted to act now before another child died.

'Yeah, I guess so.' The words sounded alien. My heart couldn't come to terms with it, but I couldn't think of a better argument.

For a moment, we sat quietly, picking at our lunch. More and more students filed in as the hour for the next period neared. I need more time. One other thing bothered me, something I couldn't make heads or tails of.

'What about Kaede?' Were the Ministers trying to protect her from the witch? Was that why they wanted to kidnap her? Yet the scene I'd read showed the kidnappers looking for the stones too. Who knew what they did to the kids afterwards?

Yuuhei shifted his chair closer, his eyes fixed on his noodles. 'I know you wouldn't want to hear this, but I don't think it's right to warn her. It's the same as the witch, you'll only make everything harder later on.'

I was expecting that answer. The worst part was, I agreed with it. I had no idea if the Ministers were good, bad or shades of grey. What if, by stopping her kidnapping, I just put her in more danger?

That moment when she was almost kidnapped, her green eyes wide with fear, flashed in front of me. A month ago, I might've been able to keep the kidnappings a secret. But I know her now. Keeping this from her, letting her get kidnapped, scared, confused and alone revolted me. How much of a monster would I be if I betrayed her like that?

Yuuhei placed a hand on my shoulder. His shark tooth poked out as he gave me a tentative smile. 'I'm sure you'll know what to do as more chapters are released. Don't rush it.'

I sighed and nodded. It wasn't as though I had much choice. Finally finishing our lunch, we walked out of the class to clean our plates.

A few students passed us by, discussing the high schools they were thinking of applying to. The melting snow in the school grounds outside, and the rising temperatures every day reminded me eighth grade was coming to an end. In ninth grade, I'd have to apply to highschools. What if Yuuhei and I got separated? My heart wrenched at the thought of going to a different school from him. No, whatever happened, we had to go to the same one.

'Have you chosen your highschool yet?' I asked.

'I'm considering my sister's old private school. They're known for their visual arts classes.' He grinned. 'They're pretty good at other subjects as well. We can go together!'

'Yup.' I smiled, turning my eyes away. The moment he'd said private, my hopes sunk. Knowing Dad, he'd put up a good fight against spending that much money on me. And this time, he might win. Yet looking at Yuuhei's face, at the glassy-eyed gaze he'd always got when talking about art, I hadn't the heart to tell him I might not be able to join.

The rest of the day, my new decisions plagued my mind. Instead of doing sums in maths, I agonised over not reporting the witch to Minister Banji. Science class was when I tried to curb my guilt on not warning Kaede. And when I said goodbye to Yuuhei, going on our separate ways to our clubs, I wondered if we'd ever meet each other so often in a couple of years.