Page 72 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
“They can be,” Akira agreed. “That doesn’t mean they all are.”
“Naoki listened to a dragon and nearly lost everything he holds dear.”
Akira had noticed it before. He was doing it again. Maybe it was nothing, but … maybe it was important. “Why do you speak of him in the present tense? Is … is it because my dad’s alive in your memories?”
“No, my dear boy.” And with a sad smile, Tabi-oji said, “It is because Naoki is alive.”
“I’m sorry?”
“So am I.” He looked away and asked, “What did your sister have to say about the photo you took of us? The selfie.”
“Umm … come to think of it.” Akira flicked to his messages and frowned in confusion. “I guess I forgot to send it.”
“A small oversight. No harm done.” With a reassuring smile, Tabi-oji said, “It is not important.”
But it was. Akira had been excited to tell Sis about meeting one of their father’s friends.
“It is for the best. Some memories should fade.”
Akira looked away, and his attention snared on a scattering of small red flower petals on the pavers. The puff of a breeze sent them tumbling away. Red? Akira glanced around. None of the flowering plants in the courtyard were red. He rubbed at the tattoo on his shoulder, trying to force his thoughts into order. It almost felt like … dragon sway.
“You’re not a dragon,” Akira said, sure of that.
Tabi-oji quietly answered, “No.”
“But you are Amaranthine.”
“What gives you that impression?”
Akira frowned. “You are. It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind. Which clan do you belong to?”
“I am alone. No clan.” With a small shake of his head that sent the bells in his kanzashi jingling, he said, “As my name implies, I am simply a wanderer.”
“Were you part of my family somehow?”
Tabi-oji’s expression gentled. “What makes you think so?”
Akira didn’t realize the reason was so true until he spoke it aloud. “You smell like home.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Moonlighting
Nothing out of the ordinary happened all that day at the Amory, and Akira spent the evening in high spirits. One hour after the young man fell asleep, Juuyu eased from the bed, satisfied that his duties to his brother and to his team were done.
He warded the bed against sound, set up a folding screen he’d located the evening before, lofted a handful of softly glowing crystals, and set to work extracting a tall, boxy cabinet from amidst the clutter on the landing below their room. Juuyu placed it against the wall. The cabinet front swung open, revealing a close-set series of wide sliding trays. Perhaps it had been designed for map storage. Or geological samples. He’d even seen something similar used to preserve musical scores. Any important papers Juuyu found would be sorted here.
Easing carefully downstairs, he selected a small pile of documents and photographs he’d set aside earlier. School papers. Newspaper clippings. A black-and-white photograph of Fumiko seated in a rocking chair, nursing an infant. A more recent one in which Fumiko led a little girl by the hand along the beach.
Presumably, the things he located at the tops of piles or in the fronts of storerooms were more recent. As he worked his way toward the bottom and toward the back, he’d uncover older and older items. Like an archeological excavation.
But one thing was bothering him. “Zuzu?”
Arms slid around his waist from behind, and the tree asked, “Yes?”
“You are in complete seclusion here.”
“Except for the interns, yes.”
