After the Bloom. Leslie Shimotakahara
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A flicker in the shadows down the way. Down below. The ember of a cigarette illuminated Kaz’s face for a beautiful moment, and relief spread warmly across her chest.
Yet he wasn’t alone.
Whispers and muted laughter as she approached.
“My, my, if it isn’t our little beauty queen,” Kaz said. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to come out here.”
As she jumped down, the force of the floor shot up through her ankles. “I was worried about you.”
“Aw, ya needn’t worry your pretty little head.”
A new cockiness came over him as he swung his arm around her shoulder, showing off in front of the guys. One of them was Kenny Honda. What on earth had she walked into?
There was something familiar about the other two faces. She recognized them from the old neighbourhood. Shig Nakane’s father used to own an auto repair around the corner from their dry-cleaning shop. Shig’s fingernails were black as the inside of a chimney despite having spent the past several months soaping dishes. The other guy was Akira Ogura, the older cousin of one of Lily’s old classmates. Well into his thirties, Akira had been working as a bookkeeper while studying to become an accountant, the last she’d heard. He’d always struck her as a pretty straitlaced fellow. She would have thought he’d become a JACC leader. Instead, a subtle defiance glinted in his eyes.
What had become of her romantic rendezvous?
Kaz’s demeanour wasn’t romantic at all. Welcoming her to their headquarters, he lit a match to reveal tiny words etched with a penknife on the wall: Black Dragon Society of Matanzas.
“Black Dragon?”
“They’re only the greatest secret society in Japan. High-ranking army officers, cabinet ministers, secret agents, hired killers.”
“It’s famous for sabotage missions and secret collecting,” Akira added.
Kenny smiled. “That’s why we’re starting a branch here.”
“But why? Why would we want to sabotage anything?”
“Look around you, Lily.”
“Don’t you think the government’s made it clear?” Kaz said. “We’re the enemy. Time to start acting like it.”
“But shouldn’t we just co-operate with the authorities, and soon the war’ll be over, and we’ll all be able to go home?”
“Oh, spare me all that JACC claptrap.”
Now Kenny looked irritated. “Why do we need a girl in on it, anyway?”
“A girl can be useful,” Kaz said.
Useful. Her lips curled into a smile as she cast her eyes downward. She thought of the doctor’s soft touch and the coolness of his stethoscope. His steady, compassionate gaze. She couldn’t let him down. Not now. Not ever.
“You can trust me,” she whispered.
“Good,” Kenny said. “’Cause your boyfriend’s been taking some pretty interesting pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“Not just pin-up girls, like the kind he takes of you. Real pictures. The kind that’ll help our cause.”
Kaz reached into his satchel. The circle tightened around him as Akira cupped his lighter to create a glow. An array of photographs fanned out in Kaz’s palms.
Wizened faces of old people: cracked, smiling bowls of clay. Their gnarled, claw-like hands digging through the soil.
Bean fields the old issei farmers had planted. Mammoth mountains looming above, laughing down on their meagre human efforts.
Massive camouflage nets hanging across the sky, all too familiar, yet also new in their strangeness, their rebirth as images. The shadowy faces of the weavers were barely visible on the other side. Could one of those dim, sad faces be her own?
While these pictures brought tears to Lily’s eyes, others filled her with a cold, stark terror. She couldn’t believe Kaz had managed to capture all this. Fights breaking out, pale faces strained to the point they looked like moonlit carvings, fists swinging in an arced blur. Men dropping to their knees, punched in the gut, photographed from weird angles. The camera must have been hidden under Kaz’s jacket.
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