Sitting behind her, Denji poked unenthusiastically at the water. “Dammit! I thought I was gonna see Ms. Makima in a swimsuit!”
“Are you still griping about that?” Power complained. “I don’t even know what you see in that witch.”
“Hey, she’s—” Denji began hotly, but he found himself at a loss for words. “What do I see in her?” he asked himself.
“Who cares?” Power turned to him with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Denji, I have just had a genius idea.”
“What’s that?”
“We run away. Here. Now. In this boat.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re on the sea! And Makima is on the land!” She pointed at the beach, where Makima sat in the shade of the umbrella, focused on her book. “She’s not paying any attention to us. We can float happily along … and just keep going until we float all the way to another country. Not even Makima can walk on water. She’ll never catch us!”
“I think she could still come after us.” Denji was not sold on the idea whatsoever.
“Don’t forget, Denji.” Power’s voice dropped. “Makima doesn’t have a swimsuit!”
“Oh …”
“As I said, genius,” Power crowed. “Only the greatest mind in the world could conceive of such a plot. Finally, I will be free and clear!” Power jumped to her feet, seized by her own brilliance. Denji grabbed the side of the boat as it rocked back and forth.
“Hey, you’re gonna capsize us!” he said.
“Now I command you—paddle, Denji! Foreign lands lie almost at our fingertips!”
“How far away is the next country, exactly?”
Power faltered. “Er … I’m not sure. Five hundred meters?”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s that close.” Even Denji had to roll his eyes in exasperation.
“Six hundred then!”
“You think? Are you sure we can do this?”
“I am surer than sure! In my whole entire life I have never told one single lie!”
“That’s a lie right there!”
Power had been a compulsive liar for as long as Denji had known her. But other things had changed. When they’d first become partners, Denji had been convinced they’d never get along. Living together, though, had brought them into a strange kind of harmony.
He lay on his back, listening to the waves lap at the edge of the boat. “I don’t think there’s any running away from this. Besides, I’m pretty happy right now.”
Power looked down at him.
“What?” said Denji. “Power, what are you—urk!” Power abruptly plopped down on Denji’s stomach and pinched his cheeks. “The hell? That hurts!”
“Dummy! Stupid dumb dummy! Moron and fool! You give up at the drop of a hat!”
Denji winced. “Easy for you to say …”
“If you don’t have the guts, I’ll run away by myself! I’ll go to foreign lands without you!”
“Um, Power …”
“Stay here and pine after Makima’s nonexistent bathing suit! I wouldn’t take you now if you begged me!”
“Power, you’re talking crazy.”
“But Denji, if one day you should discover my absence is tearing you up inside, then come and find me. I promise I shall be waiting for you!”
Denji lay there for a moment with Power gripping his cheeks. He nodded. “Yeah, okay. I hear you.” The breeze gliding across the ocean kissed his damp skin.
Power smiled gently, then pressed her forehead to his. “Worry not, Denji. I know you can do it, if anyone can. For are you not my partner?”
“Power?”
There it was again. The feeling of wrongness. The nagging sense that he was forgetting something important. He’d felt it at the shrine, and again when he’d been talking to Aki. What was it? Every time he tried to focus, it slipped away. Even now, it was drifting out of his grasp …
“You, escape? In this flimsy rubber boat?” Aki snorted. “I’d like to see you try.” He’d swum up alongside the raft without either of them noticing.
“You guys …” said Denji, but they didn’t hear him. Power was too busy splashing Aki.
“A pursuer, just as I warned! I shall drive him off!”
“Hey! Arrgh! Stop that!” Aki screwed up his face against the point-blank barrage.
“Gah ha ha ha! Look at Topknot cry! Victory is mine!”
“I’m not crying, you jerk! You got seawater in my eyes!” Aki rubbed his face furiously. As Denji watched, an image drifted into his head—Aki weeping at the hospital over his partner Himeno’s death. That moment had made Denji realize he had no desire to cry himself. He’d started to worry that he’d lost more than his physical heart when he merged with Pochita—maybe something of his humanity was gone too.
He let his gaze settle on Power, who was still flinging water at Aki as fast as she could. What about now? If Power died, would Denji cry? Could he cry? He looked at Aki, who was resisting Power as best he could. If Aki died, would he cry then?
Finally he sat up in the raft and looked back at the shore. Makima was still sitting under the umbrella with her book. She glanced up and gave a little wave. If Makima died, would he—
“Yargh!” Denji exclaimed as seawater doused him from overhead. He wiped his face. Power and Aki were both grinning at him.
“There are no neutral parties in this battle, Denji!” cried Power. “You must join in!”
“You think you’re safe lying there?” Aki added.
“You stinking … !” Denji flung himself out of the boat and joined the water fight. The strange dissonance he felt about their behavior, his thoughts about whether he would cry if any of them died—those things still bothered him, but who wanted to think about dark things on a sunny vacation? That was no fun.
Their shouts carried through the summer air. Along with the crashing of the waves, they drowned out Denji’s doubts.
“Denji. You’re crying.”
“Am not.” Denji rubbed at his eyes. Why would Makima say that?
They were back at the hotel. After a short rest, the group had decided to play Old Maid. Denji was down to a single card. It bore the word Joker and a picture of a leering clown.
“Crap, not again! Why me?” Denji’s shoulders slumped as he tossed the card down. He’d racked up nine straight losses. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been crying, but with a record like that, who could blame him?
“You really suck at this, don’t you, Denji?” Aki said.
“Gah ha ha! Reading you is like reading a very easy-to-read book!” said Power.
“Aw, cram it!”
He didn’t know which was worse—Aki’s pity or Power’s gloating. At least Makima didn’t join in. Instead she looked at the clock on the wall. “I think it’s about time we wrapped this up.”
“What?” said Denji. “No way! We can’t stop when I’m the only one who hasn’t won a game! One more go! Please, Ms. Makima?”
“But it’s almost time.”
Time? Time for what? Denji clutched his hands together, imploring. “I’m begging you, just one more round! We can do that, can’t we?” He hadn’t expected to care about cards when they’d dealt the first hand, but now he couldn’t bear to walk away with Aki and Power mocking him. Small, troubling thoughts had worried him throughout the day, but at that moment the only thing that bothered him was his 0-9 record.
“All right,” Makima said at last. “One more game.”
“Hell yes!” Denji said. A final chance to redeem himself.
Minutes later …
“And I’m out!” Makima declared.
“You’re out already?” Denji sighed. “I can’t believe you’re so good at this, Ms. Makima.”
“For your information, I’ve never lost a game of Old Maid,” she replied. Denji wasn’t sure whether she was being serious, but after playing her, he could believe it.
Denji was slow to pick up on games, but he was starting to see how Old Maid worked. You had to avoid drawing the joker yourself while forcing one of your opponents to pick it up. For that, you had to be able to read them. But Makima didn’t have a tell. Her expression never flickered. He couldn’t deny that she deserved her victories. Still, the battle was just beginning. With Makima out, the struggle among the members of the Hayakawa household continued. The number of cards in their hands shrank steadily.
“Your turn to draw, Denji,” Aki said. He held up his two cards. Denji gulped, then moved to take the card on his right. There was no reaction from Aki. Aki wasn’t as unflappable as Makima, but he knew how to keep a poker face—or, more precisely, an Old Maid face. Denji had a feeling that Aki was holding the joker, but he couldn’t tell if it was the card on the left or the right. He began to reach for the card on the left when he thought he saw Aki’s eyebrow rise. It was only the slightest movement, but to Denji it looked like concealed panic.
“Heh heh heh! Oh, Aki, you finally let your guard slip,” Denji chuckled, his hand still on the card. He saw Aki’s expression grow even darker.
“Wait, Denji!” Power said.
“I’m not waiting for anything!” Denji tore the card from Aki’s hand. “Finally! I win!” he crowed, his face glowing. He turned the card toward him …
… and saw the joker grinning back.
“Huh?” He was as shocked as he was dismayed. His shoulders slumped again.
Aki put a hand to his mouth, trying to keep from laughing. “You do suck at this, Denji.”
“You … You tricked me!” Denji accused.
“That’s how the game is played,” Aki shrugged. “It’s your fault for taking the bait.”
“Dammit!” Denji swore. “This isn’t over. I haven’t lost yet!”
Aki put down his last card, leaving Power and Denji to battle it out in single combat. Denji had two cards, including the joker. Power was down to her last one. If she left him with the joker, he’d be the loser yet again.
“Gah ha ha! Surrender, Denji! This victory is as good as mine. You have no hope, considering that I once won the Old Maid world championship!”
“You did not! Get over yourself! I’m not losing this time!”