The Stray Read online

  “Maybe just something dry for now,” Miya said. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  She slipped out of the room, and another shadow slipped in like a mirror image. I blinked, giving my head a little shake.

  “Nitaro?” I asked.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m only fourteen,” she said. “I know my aunt told you I was older.”

  I sighed. “I suppose it comes with the same stigma whether you’re fifteen or five.” I picked at a loose thread on the quilt. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “The extraction? It wasn’t all that bad.”

  I looked up at her. I’d meant her memory; the secret I now knew. Of course, to her, it had never happened.

  “What does it feel like?” I asked.

  “Your teacher was right; it’s like a missing tooth. Or, no, perhaps not. I mean; I can feel the gap, the space where it used to be, but it’s not quite like a missing tooth. A tooth is small, insignificant, light. I feel like something weighty has been lifted from me. It’s like, you’ve taken a burden that I’d been bent under for so long, that my body had forgotten how good it felt to stand upright.”

  I felt a smile spread across my face. I couldn’t stop it. Now I understood why everyone insisted that this was a gift, rather than a curse that we were born with. This feeling; maybe it even made the throw worthwhile.

  “I’m glad,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

  “It’s weird, though,” Nitaro continued. “It’s weird because you know something about me that I don’t. That’s an odd feeling. Half of me is desperate to ask you what it is, but the other half knows that I wanted it gone for a reason.” She lowered her chin, looking up at me from under heavy eyelashes. “Is it bad? Is it really bad?”

  I patted her hand, smiling. “I can’t tell you. That’s the whole point of this. And, like Miya said; in a few days, or weeks, your brain will fill in the gap, and you’ll forget all about me.”

  “It’s so bizarre to think that. We’ve been through this profound moment together.” She leant forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Intimate. Almost like sex. And now, in a way, you know me better than I even know myself. That’s odd.” She moved away, shifting to the foot of the bed. “All I know of me now, is an edited version.” She laughed bitterly. “The highlights. I’ll only ever be an edited version of myself now. Never truly me.”

  “Don’t think of it like that. Think of it as a fresh start. A chance to reinvent yourself. We’re all capable of change, and we’re entitled to it. As long as we’re changing for the better, does the method really matter?”

  She shrugged. “As long as no one else gets hurt, I suppose.”

  I looked down at the quilt, running my eye along the neat lines of stitching. I defended memory trading with the words I’d heard used so many times. Who was I really trying to convince? Was it really alright, if we had to justify it to ourselves?

  “I guess there’s no getting away from it,” I said quietly, “the whole thing is just bloody weird.”

  Nitaro laughed. “It really is. How do you deal with that?”

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe, in time, it won’t feel so weird. Which, in itself, is weird.” I laughed. “I really don’t know.”

  We both looked up as Miya came back in with a plate of toast. She looked from one of us, to the other, and back again.

  “Everything alright?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Fine,” I replied.

  “Fine,” Nitaro echoed.

  Miya placed the plate on the bed next to me. “Eat up, and then get some sleep. We’ll be leaving at dawn.” She looked at Nitaro. “You’d better go back to bed too. It’ll hit you tomorrow. Like a hangover.”

  Miya looked back at me, her eyes flashing with alarm.

  6

  KIOTO

  Flattening myself against the wall of the house, I edged towards the corner, daring a quick look around it. I could hear them, close by, but I couldn’t see them. They were calling my name, stringing the word out. Holding it tight, and stretching it.

  I heard footsteps, on the other side of the house. A body bouncing into the wall, sliding along it. Breathing heavily.

  I glanced around the corner again, catching sight of six of the boys. They were looking around, pointing this way, and that.

  I looked behind me. The breathing was louder, and a body was beginning to emerge. An arm, a leg, and finally, a head.

  I leant forward, poised to bolt.

  Akikai gave a small shake of his head, his finger pressed against his lips. I should have run. My body was screaming at me to move, but the look in his eyes stopped me. It wasn’t cruel, or jeering, or victorious. His eyes were pleading. He was begging me to stay where I was, with a look of fear.

  Slowly, he inched closer to me, his eyes never faltering from mine.

  I took a step away from the house, and he shook his head again.

  He could almost touch me now. Almost grab me. Why was I trusting him? He’d never been at the fore of the games. Always stood back as the boys beat us, or assaulted us. But he was complicit by his refusal to step in and stop it. He was as bad as the rest of them.

  I moved forward again, and he shook his head hard. “Don’t move,” he mouthed at me. “Trust me. Please.”

  Those eyes stopped me once again.

  I shifted my weight backwards, giving the impression that I was returning to the wall, without actually moving my feet.

  His shoulders relaxed, and he gave a small nod.

  I could feel sweat tickling its way down my spine. I wanted to scratch it away, but I didn’t dare to move. Every muscle was poised to run.

  Akikai cocked his head, listening. He pressed his finger to his lips again, and moved ahead of me, gesturing for me to follow.

  I followed. Although I couldn’t find a single reason to trust him, I followed.

  Staying low, we moved quickly over the grass towards the cliffs. My mind played out visions of him pushing me over the edge, my bones smashing on the rocks below, but still, I followed. Perhaps, part of me, just wanted all of this to be over. One way, or another.

  “Quickly,” Akikai hissed. He had reached the precipice, the ground falling away completely behind him. Crouching, he placed one hand in the grass, and dropped his body into the void.

  I gasped. Edging forward, I peered gingerly over the chasm.

  Akikai looked up at me from a narrow ledge. His head was just an inch or two below my feet.

  “Come on,” he said.

  I glanced over my shoulder, and then dropped down beside him.

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked.

  “Do you want to get caught?” he replied.

  “You’ve caught me.”

  He cocked his head back the way we’d come. “Those guys are morons. This sort of game might have been fine when we were kids, but we’re practically adults now.”

  I looked away. “Because it’s a kids’ game, right.”

  He touched my arm, and I flinched away.

  “And because it’s cruel, and unnecessary,” he said.

  “Yet, you still played it.”

  He dropped his head. “They’re bullies. All they want is to wield power, and they don’t care who they wield it over.”

  “So, it was us, or you?”

  He looked down at the ground far below us. “It’s no excuse, I’m sorry.”

  We stood in silence for a moment, crows screaming above us, wind hissing through the trees beneath us.

  “There’s a cave,” Akikai said at last. “Just a little climb down. We’ll be safe there. No one else knows about it.”

  “How does no one else know about it?”

  He looked at me, and I read the answer in his eyes as clearly as if he’d said it aloud.

  I nodded in understanding. “Before we arrived, you were always the target.”

  “Come on, I’ll help you down. It’s really steep, so tread carefully.”

  Akikai
lowered himself to the next ledge, and as I clambered down behind him, he guided my feet onto each step. He directed me to where my hands could hold safely.

  “I won’t let you fall,” he said gently, each time I faltered.

  It was a short enough climb, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the rocks two hundred metres below. Ready to welcome our bodies, like a mouth of broken teeth.

  Akikai pulled me into the small cave. We huddled towards the back of it, completely out of sight.

  It was tall enough to sit up in, and light enough to see. The wind whistled past the entrance, but didn’t assume to step inside. It was a sanctuary.

  I looked around at the walls, covered in chalk drawings. Some had faded and smudged beyond recognition, but others were still clear.

  “Did you do these?” I asked.

  He nodded, turning his head away from me.

  “They’re really good,” I added.

  “Do you think so?”

  “Yeah.” I cast my eye over a detailed image of a buzzard, wings spread, a small rabbit dangling from its talons. “Yeah, they’re really good. You must have spent a lot of time here.”

  “I did. In fact…” He leant over and dragged a blanket out from behind the rocks. “I have some supplies still stashed here.” He handed me the blanket, and leant over again. “Chalks, books. Some bottles of water. But, I haven’t been here for a long time, so, we probably shouldn’t drink them. Huh. Some old toys, too.”

  “Wow, you really were prepared.”

  “Sometimes, I’d spend an entire day here. Drawing, reading, thinking. Sleeping, sometimes.” He looked down at the floor. “Did a lot of crying here, too.”

  I exhaled sharply. I knew how that felt.

  “We’re completely hidden here,” he said. “You can’t see us from above, or below.”

  “How did you find this place?”

  He shrugged. “Dumb luck, I guess.”

  “And no one else knows about it?”

  He looked into my eyes. “No one. Except you.”

  I looked back at the drawings on the wall.

  “You still don’t trust me, do you?” Akikai said.

  “How can I?” He didn’t reply. What was there to say? “I don’t trust anyone here,” I added.

  “I know. You haven’t been made very welcome. I’m sorry about that. I guess mountain people get quite used to living away from everyone else. I guess they get a little precious about their space.”

  I huffed. “You talk about ‘them’ as if you aren’t one of them yourself.”

  “You’re right. I should own my part in it. I owe you that much, at least.”

  “You owe us a lot more,” I said sharply, turning back to him.

  He nodded. “I know. And I hope that this can go some way to repaying you. You’re welcome to use this cave. And to bring whoever you want here.” He pushed his hands towards me. “My gift to you.”

  I eyed him carefully. “We’d be trapped in here,” I said. “If you boys decided to come after us. Where could we go?”

  He shrugged. “Honestly, Kioto, there’s nothing I can do to convince you to trust me. You’ve been shown nothing but cruelty since you arrived here, and after…” He placed his hand over his heart, lowering his gaze. “You’ll just have to decide for yourself whether or not I have a darker motive. Well. I guess I do have another agenda.” His eyes flicked back to mine, and he shuffled closer. “Would it be completely stupid of me to hope, even a little bit, that you might, someday, be able to see me as more than one of those bullies?”

  My mouth opened, and I felt a response come out of me. But my heart was hammering too loudly for me to hear what I said.

  7

  KIOTO

  Nahaya bounded down onto the bench next to me. Dropping her elbows onto the table, she cupped her chin in her hands, looking at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You know what,” she replied. “When were you going to tell your best friend in all the world?”

  “Tell her what?”

  She lifted her head and punched me playfully on the arm. “You know what,” she said again.

  “Seriously, Nahaya, I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  She leaned in close, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You and Akikai.”

  I rolled my eyes, pushing her away. “Who the hell have you been listening to? There is nothing to tell.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as someone can be when it’s actually about them. Stop listening to gossip. Especially idiotic gossip.”

  Nahaya sat back with a sigh. “Well, if there’s nothing going on, I guess you won’t want this.”

  She produced a slip of paper, folded between her fingers. I reached for it, but she snatched it away.

  “I thought there was nothing going on,” she teased.

  “And I thought you were my friend.”

  “Fine.” She handed me the paper, leaning in over my shoulder.

  “As if you haven’t already read it,” I said, shrugging her away.

  “Of course I have. Silly boy didn’t seal it. But I want to see you read it. Your reaction will tell me what I need to know.”

  I frowned at her, but I knew she’d never let me read the note in private. I unfolded it, trying to keep my breathing steady. Her intrusion was making me more nervous than the note itself.

  Meet me at my gift to you. Just before sunset. Tonight. I’ll wait, and hope.

  I folded it back, slipping it into my pocket. With a shrug, I returned to my meal.

  “So?” Nahaya’s breath was coming shallow and rapid in my ear.

  “So, what? You saw my reaction; that was what you wanted. That was ‘all you needed to know’, wasn’t it?”

  “What reaction?” She slid away from me. “You’re stone, Kioto. A heart of ice, that’s what you have.”

  I shrugged again.

  Nahaya groaned. “You’re really going to give me nothing? I guess I’ll just have to imagine what’s going on between you.” She began making rhythmic grunting noises, swaying back and forth.

  “You’re rocking the whole bench,” I said.

  “And he’ll be rocking your whole world tonight.”

  “Shut up,” I said. “I’m only thirteen, and he’s almost seventeen. Don’t be so gross.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to follow you then. See for myself.”

  “Don’t,” I said, much sharper than I’d intended.

  “There it is. There’s the human in you. I’m glad to discover you’re not entirely detached from your emotions.” She stood up, bending back down to my ear. “I want to hear all about it. Every detail.”

  When I clambered down to the cave, I could see the sputtering light of candles, and I almost turned back. I wasn’t looking for a romantic rendezvous, and I didn’t want my presence here to give Akikai the wrong impression.

  Taking a deep breath, I carried on climbing down. I was probably reading too much into it. We needed light, and he’d provided it. It didn’t mean anything.

  Two cushions were sitting in the entrance, side by side, gazing out across the landscape below.

  “Akikai?” I called out, peering into the dim cave.

  “Kioto.” I heard him before I saw his shadow moving. He stepped into the candlelight, his face lit from below, rendering his features unfamiliar. “You got my note then.”

  “Yeah, but you probably should have sealed it. Or, y’know, given it to me yourself.”

  He looked down at the floor. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just not very good at this kind of thing.”

  “What kind of thing? What exactly is this?”

  He looked at me. “I made it pretty clear how I feel. But, it’s really up to you. I don’t want to push you into something you don’t want.”

  “I’d like a friend, if that’s alright?”

  “We can definitely do that. Sit.”

  I settled onto one of the cushions, looking
out towards the mountains beyond. The sun sat between two peaks; blood red. The horizon was burnt in orange, the few clouds above edged with pink.

  “Best view in all of Lobaya, I reckon.”

  “You should watch the sun rising over the sea in Okaporo.”

  “I bet you miss it, huh?”

  “With everything that I am.”

  “I can’t imagine that. Losing everything in one go like that. My family, my home. Everyone I loved. Your roots. Your ancestors.”

  I nodded. “I just have to believe that I’ll be able to return one day. I’m holding onto that hope.”

  “Wouldn’t that be hard? Going back where it all happened?”

  “It would be hard. But the idea of never returning is harder. People keep telling me that there’s nothing there for us anymore, but it’s not true. Everything is there. Everyone, even. They’re still living there; deep in the ground, filling the sky. They’re in the salty breeze, the roar of the waves, the wings of the birds. They’re still there, and they always will be. It’s the rest of the world that has nothing for me.”

  Akikai shuffled closer, placing his hand over mine. “I wish this place had been friendlier for you. I wish that Kagosaka could have something for you.” He looked at me. “Maybe, one day, it could.”

  I moved my hand away. “I doubt it,” I said, a little too sharply. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that— It’s just this place. It’s not you. If anything, you’re like a beacon of hope here.”

  He smiled. “I’ll take that. ‘A beacon of hope’, eh? Yep, I’ll definitely take that.”

  I looked at him, studying his profile as he watched the sun drop lower in the sky. Of course, trader roots weren’t the same for men as they were for women. The women stayed where they were born, and they raised their own children there. Their grandchildren. They never moved away. At least, not through choice. But trader men often moved to other colonies to marry. The colonies were too small to avoid interbreeding and incest otherwise. Trader men went where their genes were needed.

  They weren’t trained to become memory traders. Their abilities lay dormant, if they had them at all. I guess, without even realising it, I’d viewed the boys as being unimportant. Nothing to bother wasting my time with. And here, the boys were nothing but cruel. Evil. Except Akikai.