‘I am so sorry, Aunty.’
‘You mustn’t be, Sakura.’
‘But it’s all my fault. I’ve been stupid and selfish. Believe me, I would never have done this if I’d known the trouble I would end up causing you and Uncle Hideo. I just didn’t think.’
‘Nonsense, my child. You are not causing us any trouble whatsoever. The boss at Capitol Constructions and his cronies are the troublemakers. Plus the mayor, of course.’
Sakura is sitting at the kitchen table with her Aunt Azumi; Hotaka and Osamu are there too. She’s been crying over some bad news: her Uncle Hideo has had his work hours halved. More than that, the hours he’s been given are all late-night shifts, the times no one wants. Worst of all, there’s talk he could lose his job completely.
‘It’s all the Engineer Oshita’s doing,’ Sakura’s aunt continues. ‘To silence you. He knows that what you say is true. You’ve shown people that they can stand up for their rights. For that reason alone, we must not let him succeed.’
‘Uncle Hideo could lose his job completely.’
‘True. But he says it’s horrible working there anyway. Oshita is targeting him nonstop: underpaying, overworking, cheating whenever he can. Your uncle nearly didn’t go to work tonight. Said he couldn’t care less if he lost his job.’
‘That may be so, but you need the money. How would you survive without it?’
‘We’d manage. We’ve struggled before. Perhaps I’ll get a job.’
‘You know that’s not on, what with your arthritis the way it is.’
‘Nonsense. The doctor says—’
‘Stop pretending, Aunt Azumi. I can see that you’re worried sick. I saw it when I walked in the door. I can see fear in your eyes right now. Try as you might, you can’t hide that from me.’
Sakura’s aunt closes her eyes and holds her hand to her mouth. ‘I am worried, yes; I won’t deny it. Very worried. But it’s not to do with Uncle Hideo’s job or the money. That’s nothing compared to—’ A shadow seems to pass over Aunt Azumi’s face, and the blood drains from her cheeks.
‘Compared to what, Aunty?’
‘Something else has happened that is far more serious.’
‘What? Tell me.’
‘Look, it might be nothing. Maybe just a joke in bad taste.’
Hotaka feels certain that he knows what Sakura’s aunt is talking about. ‘Was it a rat?’
Aunt Azumi nods in astonishment.
‘And was it hanging from the front door?’ Hotaka continues. ‘Or the verandah?’
‘The gate,’ Aunt Azumi replies.
‘Black and yellow cord?’
‘How did you know?’
‘My uncle found one hanging from the mast of his trawler. I got one too.’
‘And me.’ Osamu leans forward. ‘Someone is trying to frighten us.’
‘Could someone please explain?’ Sakura exclaims.
Osamu pulls out his phone. ‘This is what we’re talking about.’ He shows her a photo of a strangled rat. ‘We’ve all received one.’
‘All dangling from the same type of cord,’ Hotaka adds. ‘Uncle Yori says they’re a warning. Back off or else.’
‘Or else what?’ Sakura asks.
‘Use your imagination,’ Osamu replies, pretending to choke himself.
‘That’s why I’m so worried,’ Aunt Azumi says. ‘For you, Sakura, not for me and Uncle Hideo. I’m worried for your safety.’
‘Well, don’t be. That’s exactly what they want.’
‘I know, but these people can be ruthless.’
‘I’m sure they can. But we can throw their tactics back in their face. Do you still have the rat, Aunt Azumi?’
‘It’s in the garbage bin.’
‘Good. Can one of you boys fetch it, please?’
Osamu stands. ‘What’s the idea, Sakura?’
‘Put on your lipstick, Ossy darling; we are going to post some rat selfies. Construction Giant Threatens School Kids. Graffiti Artists Intimidated. Rat Tactics in Seawall War.’
‘Now you’re talking! I’ll go grab that rat.’
But before he even moves, a brick smashes through the kitchen window.
Aunt Azumi screams. She grabs her walking stick, hobbles to the window and flings it open.
The others rush to her side. Three dark figures – their faces hidden by balaclavas – are trampling Aunt Azumi’s garden, hacking at her flowers with thick bamboo rods like the shinai used in kendo.
‘Come on,’ Hotaka yells, clambering through the window.
‘You’re mad,’ Osamu shouts, but then shrugs. ‘What the heck. You only die once.’ He tosses his phone to Sakura. ‘Record!’ he tells her, and follows Hotaka.
Sakura flings the phone to her aunt. ‘Get everything you can, Aunt Azumi,’ she says and leaps through the window as well. ‘Everything!’
‘Wait!’ Aunt Azumi cries. ‘Use this.’ She throws her walking stick to Sakura. ‘And go for the one on his own over there with his back to us. Hit him hard and you’ll knock him out.’ Sakura heads for the far side of the garden.
The other two thugs laugh when they see the teenagers tumble out the window.
‘This’ll be fun,’ the smallest one sneers, picking on Hotaka. ‘Let me at him.’
‘All yours,’ his mate replies.
Hotaka is leapt upon before he even gains his balance. Solid and thickset, the guy hacks at him with his bamboo rod. Hotaka manages to drop and roll out of the way, grabbing a garden stake to fend off the next blow, and scrambles to his feet, trying to remember his kendo lessons. He lashes out with the stake and almost collects his opponent’s face. This takes the thug by surprise and he stumbles backwards. Hotaka seizes the chance and springs forward, lunging at the guy’s neck, but his thrust is knocked out of the way when the other man intervenes.
‘Looks like this one thinks he knows a thing or two. Let’s teach him a lesson.’
He hooks his bamboo cane under Hotaka’s stake and flicks it from his hands, flinging it high into the air, then delivers a blow to Hotaka’s ribs that makes him yelp in agony and collapse to his knees. The pain brings tears to his eyes. He peers up through the blur to see that both men are about to bring their rods down on him and lifts his arms to protect his head, preparing for the worst.
But before the pair can strike, Osamu hurls himself at them in a wild tackle that sends both men tumbling sideways. The smaller thug drops his rod in the fall, and in a mad scramble Osamu grabs the cane and tosses it to Hotaka.
‘Kill ’em, Kendo Kid!’ he manages to shout before being swamped by a torrent of punches.
While this is happening, Sakura attacks the biggest intruder with her aunt’s walking stick, aiming for his head. But he moves at the last moment and she misses, cracking him across the neck and shoulders. He roars and spins around. She hits out again, but he blocks the blow, pushing her over and knocking her face-first to the ground. Then he rips the walking stick from her and snaps it in half.
As Sakura struggles to get up, he rams his boot into her back, pinning her to the spot.
‘Is this the one?’ he grunts to his buddies, who are untangling themselves from Osamu.
‘Yeah,’ the smaller one yells. ‘Shut her up for good – that’s what they said.’
‘Too easy,’ the big guy growls, and with his bamboo rod gripped in both hands, he raises it over his head.
‘No!’
Hotaka scrambles to his feet. The ache in his ribs is excruciating, his head is in a whirl and his vision is blurred, but he sprints as fast as he can towards the dark figure towering above Sakura. The thug will shatter her skull for sure with that rod of his.
‘No!’
As Hotaka runs, a dreadful feeling takes hold: he’s not going to make it. He’s not going to reach Sakura before that hard bamboo rod strikes her head. It will be close. But close is not good enough. The rod will get there first, and nothing else will matter.
‘No!’
He screams as the thug brings down the rod. He screams as he throws himself through the air, hoping to put some part of his body between Sakura and the rod, any part. He screams as he watches the rod fall, knowing he can’t beat it.
But then out of the corner of his eye he sees something else. Aunt Azumi on the verandah. Shouting. How dare you. She’s my flower. And something flying through the air in a bright blue blur with a flash of red. He’s seen the thing before. Yes! The kappa, the little lizard-like creature – made of solid cement. It passes Hotaka and hits the guy in the middle of the forehead.
The brute drops like a sack of sago. His rod digs into the soil right next to Sakura’s ear, and Hotaka does a perfect faceplant into a bed of trampled plum blossoms.
He lifts his face from the dirt. The big man is lying in a heap, knocked out, blood streaming down his face. The other two thugs are running to his aid, but stop in their tracks when they hear Aunt Azumi.
‘The police!’ she shouts, pointing to the end of the street. ‘They’re here at last. We’re saved!’
The men spin around, leap the fence and scamper off into the dark.
‘What a great end to a great night, eh, guys?’ Osamu says.
He is sitting with Hotaka, Sakura and her aunt on the verandah, slurping at Aunt Azumi’s hot noodle soup.
‘Are you for real?’ Sakura says. ‘Your face is bruised black and blue, your nose looks like it’s broken, Hotaka’s ribs are in agony, I nearly had my head smashed to bits, Aunt Azumi has had her flower garden trashed, and we all feel like crap! Where exactly is the great in any of that?’
‘It’s in what we’ve got.’ Osamu holds up his phone. ‘Pure treasure! What we need to win this fight.’ He salutes Sakura’s aunt. ‘Top job, Kita-san. You could work as a film-maker any day. Excellent action, graphic violence, plus pure suspense in that last shot – I don’t know how you managed to film and throw that kappa so accurately. Our fans will love it all.’
‘You never stop, do you?’ Sakura groans.
‘And then we have that gorilla over there.’ Osamu points to the thug tied to the gate post, ankles and wrists bound tightly. The big guy moans, not yet fully conscious, and struggles a bit. ‘What a catch. When he tells the police who put him up to this, we’ll have enough to close down those big-wigs.’
‘Which reminds me,’ Hotaka cuts in. ‘Where are the police?’ He looks at Sakura’s aunt. ‘Nearly ten minutes have passed since you said they were coming.’
‘Oh, I just made that up so the other two didn’t finish off what their big mate failed to do.’
The teenagers laugh. ‘Quick thinking, Aunt Azumi,’ Sakura says. ‘You’re amazing.’
‘Well, I had to do something, my dear. Osamu and Hotaka weren’t in fighting condition, and although we girls could probably have handled those two creeps between us, I didn’t feel like getting my hands dirty.’
‘Pity about that,’ Osamu says. ‘Imagine if we had them as prisoners too?’
‘Will you give up?!’ Sakura howls. She picks up a bowl to throw at him, but then stops and stares. ‘I don’t believe it.’ A huge grin fills her face. ‘Talk about wish come true! We do have them. Look.’
Shuffling down the street are the two thugs, ankles hobbled, hands tied. Prodding them along with their bamboo rods – one in each hand – is Tarou, along with a bunch of his friends.
‘These two want to apologise, Kita-san,’ Tarou says. He opens the gate. ‘They also have some very interesting information for you guys,’ he tells Sakura and the others.
Tarou shoves the thugs through the gate. Then he spins the two bamboo rods high into the air. They cross over mid-flight and he catches them with a flourish.
‘Anyone for kendo?’ he asks, winking at Hotaka.