Rally Around

 

Akira was actually pretty good with girls. Well, not in any sort of romantic sense. But brotherly experience made it obvious that Kimi needed the kind of support family could provide. Or maybe a couple of nestmates. “Talk to us, Kimi.”

“I will.” Her nose was buried in her scarf, and her gaze never lifted from the sidewalk. “I need to, but not here.”

He’d have liked to pester, but Suuzu slid his arm around her shoulders and quietly said, “If you wish to register a complaint against Eloquence Starmark, I would willingly support and substantiate your claims.”

Kimiko stopped and swayed. “Wh-what?”

“What’s Quen done?” Akira demanded. He knew Suuzu was picking up on things he couldn’t, like scents and maybe even the state of Kimi’s soul. He could only guess at her mood and wait for her to confide in him. Plus, Suuzu’s offer didn’t make much sense. “I don’t get it. Quen’s a good guy.”

Suuzu grabbed both their arms and hustled then around a corner. Pressing them against the dingy bricks in a cramped alleyway, he crowded close and murmured, “If there is a problem, tell me now, while enough scent lingers to satisfy the trackers.”

Akira gawked at his best friend and repeated, “Quen’s a good guy.”

He tipped his head to one side, then the other. “Kimiko is distressed, and Eloquence is undoubtedly the cause.”

“Kimi?” Akira grabbed her hand. “What’s he talking about?”

She looked close to tears, but not sad tears or even angry ones. Akira’s sister wasn’t the weepy sort, so the only ones she’d shown him had always been tied to really strong, tangled-up emotions. And confusion. Not knowing what to do could be really scary for someone as confident as Kimiko always seemed to be.

“He is a good guy,” she said firmly. “He was very … gentle.”

Akira was jumping to every kind of conclusion now, some wilder than others, and he really, really hoped they were off base. “Gentle, how?”

Kimi finally met his gaze then, and a laugh bubbled up—sad and silly. Then she shocked the socks off him by kissing his forehead. “Stop imagining the worst. And I promise to tell you everything, but not in the street.”

Rubbing at his forehead, Akira mumbled, “You’re worrying me. Seriously.”

“And you’re cheering me up.” She hesitated. “Can you stay over again? Or would Sentinel have kittens?”

Suuzu hooked his arm through Kimi’s, guiding her back onto the sidewalk. “We will stay.”

Akira took her other arm. “Gonna stash us in that secret library again?”

“No, so gather your courage. I think it’s time to introduce you to my family.”

“Best manners,” Akira promised.

Kimiko laughed again, sounding just as unhappy. “Wish I could guarantee the same courtesy. Just … I’m sorry in advance.”
 

Akira finally put his finger on it. He’d walked into a sitcom.

The members of the Miyabe household were naturals—quirky, complicated, and likeable—delivering a whirlwind of well-rehearsed drama. They each owned their role. Doting father. Chatterbox mother. Kimi’s older sister was all sweetness and soft smiles, and her younger sister was a cool beauty with a calculating gaze. The grandmother had all but demanded documentation of their respective pedigrees.

“Puny stock,” she muttered. “What are your parents’ classifications?”

Kimi jumped to his defense. “I’m the reaver in our group, Grandma. Akira’s only human.”

The old woman narrowed her eyes. “Their line of work, then. How have they distinguished themselves?”

“I’m an orphan, ma’am.” Akira smiled apologetically. “I don’t really remember my parents.”

“How did you get into such a prestigious school?” The woman seemed suspicious. “Academic excellence?”

“My grades are pretty average.” Below average, if he was totally honest.

“I’m glad Akira was accepted,” Kimi said, her voice slow and calm. “He and Suuzu have been wonderful partners.”

“Better to pair you off with a nice reaver boy,” grumbled the lady.

Kimi remained patient, but not apologetic. “That would defeat the purpose of integration, Grandma. Triads have one of each, and I’m the reaver.”

At this point, Kimiko’s mother saw an opening and seized control. “I’m sure we’re honored! Aren’t we?” A glance in her husband’s direction seemed to confirm her suspicion, and her smile widened. Turning to Suuzu, she asked, “And what sort of creature might you be?”

“He’s not a creature, Mama. Suuzu is a person.”

“I never said he wasn’t! But you’re an animal-person, aren’t you, dear?”

Kimiko’s mom was all smiles as she blundered along, apparently ignorant of the oft-repeated guidelines of etiquette and courtesy toward Amaranthine citizens. Akira would have jumped in, but she didn’t let anyone get a word in edgewise.

“You look exotic. Are you something exotic? A zebra, perhaps?”

Suuzu showed no sign of offense as he corrected her. Akira had always admired his patience when it came to some of the weirder questions people would ask. And now that he knew what to look for, he could see that all three of the Miyabe girls were fidgeting with purpose, probably apologizing to Suuzu even as they worked to interrupt and distract their mother.

Akira found himself liking the lady, if only because of the soft way Kimi’s father had of looking at her. The rest of the family might worry about what she’d say next, but this guy was listening to her. And that mattered to Akira. It fit with the way he thought things should be.

Maybe that’s why he wanted lessons in the signs and signals Kimi used. He hadn’t realized he was missing out on part of a conversation.

“Hajime-kun?”

“Yes, sir?” Akira replied. Kimi looked a whole lot like her dad, who seemed a little old-fashioned, but that was probably because of his traditional clothes. He gave off a patient and wise vibe. Unfortunately, he was also pretty sharp.

“Are you perhaps kin to a certain unregistered bloodline recently recognized as producing potent reavers?”

Kimiko winced.

They’d all hoped no one would make the connection.

Maybe he wouldn’t make a fuss. Akira said, “Yep.”

“What?” demanded Mrs. Miyabe. “What can you mean, dear? I thought he was human.”

“As human as you and I,” he said fondly. “What I mean to say is that this young man’s sister is Lady Mettlebright.”

Kimi’s mother might not know the ins and outs of Amaranthine etiquette, but she’d read the gossip columns. And Akira’s brother-in-law was big news.

Her hands flew to her mouth. “You are a reaver!”

“I’m not. My sister is.”

And he was surrounded, and everyone was talking at once. Akira was sort of relieved when Suuzu—very politely—extricated him from the excitable group.

Kimi had warned them, and she was pretty close on how everything would shake down. Except for the part about her mom and the contract. Her grandma was the one waving paperwork under his nose. And he was almost positive it was the younger sister who pressed a pen into his hand.
 

Akira dropped onto Kimiko’s bed and stared at the ceiling. “That was intense.”

She groaned. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” There were more important things to consider. Like Suuzu, who stood staring out the window, stiff and straight. Akira asked, “Okay if we let in some air?”

“Please.” She hurried to Suuzu’s side and quietly urged, “Make yourselves comfortable.”

He flicked the latch, slid the glass panel aside, and breathed deeply. Akira sat up and ruffled his hair. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, because it makes things a lot easier for us, but … wouldn’t a mother normally discourage her daughter from spending the night with a couple of guys?”

“She’s not a very clever schemer. I’m trying not to be insulted by her mercenary streak.” Kimi’s hands fluttered through a cycle of frustration and apology.

“Reavers are a little strange. No offense.”

Suuzu murmured, “Her plan is ill-wrought. Even if an effort were made, Kimiko could not conceive.”

She burst out laughing, and Akira covered his face with his hands. “Too much information.”

Crossing to his side, Suuzu sat and began fiddling with Akira’s hair. The calming effect was both immediate and mutual. Akira beckoned insistently until Kimi came to sit on the floor in front of them so Suuzu could reach her hair, too.

Long minutes passed, and the mood mellowed. And into the safe haven they’d created for themselves, Suuzu brought his first question. “Are you ready to confide in us?”