When Asa Haruna wakes up with magic woven into his throat one day - magic that allows him to grip the hearts of others and command their minds, tell them what to do and have them unquestioningly obey - he quickly realises he's in trouble.
Yoru Ohar...
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"Mom," I say, clutching my hiking shoes with sweaty hands as I stand before her in the kitchen the morning of the mountain festival. She doesn't react; only continues to furiously scrub at the ceramic dishes and containers that we're supposed to be taking to the shrine with us today, and my heart hurts, like it's being squeezed inside a damp cloth. "Mom," I try again. "We're late. I-"
"Don't bring your shoes into the kitchen, Asa," she says tersely, without even looking at me. My fingers tighten, and I turn around just as Dad comes storming in. Trembling slightly, I open my mouth, voice reluctant to leave my throat because I already know. He's not going to be able to hear me. Not right now. Not when they're like this.
He sounds agitated as he stabs his finger at the electricity bill that came yesterday, and...why now? Why does he need to do this now?
Mom becomes so angry that she starts to shout, her hand jerking violently to knock one of the ceramic plates to the floor. It shatters completely, just like every bit of hope I held that we might actually have fun today. An unbearably sharp silence drops in the room as both of them stare at the broken pieces on the floor, and I quickly scramble to pick them up. "Oops, better clean this up quickly so that we can leave, yeah? It's going to get super crowded if we're late, and Yoru doesn't like long lines, so..."
Dad's shoulders go stiff. Our eyes lock for a moment, and then he just turns around and leaves. Mom lets out a heavy sigh, leaning her back against the sink to run her fingers along her forehead, and I look up at her, pressing my lips together.
Abruptly, I suck in a breath, a piece of glass hitting the floor as I look down to see a thin streak of red now flowing down my thumb.
"Asa, what are you doing?" Mom asks, grabbing my arm and slowly pulling me to my feet, her voice tired. "I...I wasn't looking," I say, frowning at the blood. Shaking her head, she guides me to the sink, letting the water run over the cut in my hand. I wince, a soft cry escaping my lips. "Go upstairs and get a bandaid, okay? They're in the drawer beside the bed," she says, turning the tap off and dabbing at my hand with a clean towel.
"Okay, but can we leave after that?" I ask, prying my hand away to grab my shoes off the floor.
"What? No, not yet," Mom says distractedly, returning to the dishes. "Your aunt Yumiko is coming over to help me with my Yukata later. We'll leave together with her after that."
"But Mom, that'll take forever!" I protest immediately, this unforseen bend in the plan nudging at my chest. "Besides, how are you going to make the climb in a Yukata?"
"Climb? Don't be silly. We're taking the car."
The car?
"But Dad said that this year, we'd-"
"And you're going to carry these loaded dishes all the way up?"
