Half-Sight

15 | hope

15. HOPE

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WE WIND UP at a noodle shop on the northern outskirts of Osaka, eating outdoors as red sunlight bleeds over misty mountains.

I watch as Kotomi, mouth full, flattens a rumpled map between us and waves a scratchy pen at the lines.

"It's not like I can mark this on the map for you, but Daizo's house is within range for Bohai to gain full access to the Tower's security system."

Ren plucks the pen from her hand and sweeps a wide circle around what must be the block of Osaka Medicine Tower.

I lean forward on my forearms. "So we need a way into the house to rescue Bohai before everything goes down, right?"

"Not just before." His face is grim. "There's no way to know Daizo's agenda unless we get into his house. We're acting as soon as possible."

Kinryu Ramen has no walls—it's a shaded sun-lit space tucked into the corner of an alley. The air is soaked with remnants of rain, and stray foliage peeks out from cracks in cement. A chilly breeze ruffles the canvas flaps hanging from wooden archways. Steam from thick pork-belly broth clouds my vision. It's a strangely heartwarming feeling to sit in this tiny haven for a shared meal. The shop is easily the busiest spot on this far side of town, and our anonymity after days of hiding feels like more room to breathe.

The three of us huddle around the edge of a long table—Ren and I squeezed side by side, Kotomi across us, her ramen bowl teetering precariously to make room for the map.

Kotomi slurps up a hefty bite. "Loving the urgency, Scarboy, but let's think about the timeline realistically, okay?"

"Care telling me when 'Scarboy' became a thing?"

"It does have a ring to it, doesn't it?"

I flick my chopsticks at the map. "Timeline."

"Right." She clears her throat with a devilish glare at Ren. "The auction was exactly seventy-two hours ago. If I'm right, that means Daizo received his last shipment from the Shiroi farmland four days ago. In person. You know, when you gave us the shitty 'white wing' sign and all."

Ren's eyes travel across the map. "When you were still planning to sell out our location for money."

Heat fills Kotomi's face. "Yes. Look. The point is, Daizo's been busy, and he's been distracted. I could tell. He was careless about reaching out to me for favors after we ran into each other on the streets."

"You ran into each other?" I ask. "You started working for him after you bumped into him on the street?"

"Okay, no. It was more like..." She tilts her head. "More like a fat dose of hallucinogen, a lot of bloody fighting, and some psychological blackmail. All so I could get out on the streets and send him updates on your angsty life for a half-decent paycheck." I hear her voice sharpen. "You really want me to elaborate?"

Ren waves his chopsticks impatiently. "Daizo being busy is old news. There's always something on his mind. Always was."

My mind flashes to red-lit parades. White sails. Candlelight bleeding into canals. Minami. Tenshi. The five thousand, four hundred and two in Tennoji. Busy indeed.