‘Itai!—that means “ouch” in Japanese, by the way—Itai! Itai!’
The metaphysical carousel continued its merry twist, on this occasion depositing us in some kind of artists’ studio.
It was an ill-lit, grubby place, with black-and-white and garishly coloured pictures on the walls, most of them flowers, fish, dragons, demons, women, and assorted ukiyo-e clichés. It was also over-heated in there.
‘Why is it so damned hot, and why am I aware of that?’
‘It adds to the ambience.’
Kohana was in the middle of the room, face down on some kind of hammock, with her top off. A wiry old man, with several needles, leaned against her, pottering over something I couldn’t see from my chair against the wall. Whatever he was creating accounted for the repetitive ‘itais’ coming from my companion’s mouth.
I glanced at a man seated next to me.
He was dressed in a dark suit, with a thin tie and American pilot’s sunglasses, and he distractedly masticated on a toothpick. Sweat beaded around his buzz-cut hairline.
I noted that he’d misplaced the little finger on his left hand.
There was a bulge beneath the jacket, just under his left armpit, and I suspected what it might be. I’d had my full of firearms. I shook my head and looked away.
‘What on earth are you having done?’ I asked Kohana.
‘I’m getting Orochi tattooed across my back.’
‘Ahh, so this is the grand occasion. How silly of me.’ I stared at her. ‘Why?’
‘I was sick and tired of being the identical twin of someone as stainless as Tomeko. I needed to stamp my own mark. I felt it best captured who and what I am, beneath the sham veneer.’
‘What, that you have eight heads, or an uncontrollable hankering for saké?’
‘Itai!’
Kohana pulled a face, and then relaxed.
‘I think I also needed to mark myself, in order that I’d not be tempted to play my sister—with a branding like this, I could hardly give consideration to any silly stunts.’
‘Sounds to me like you don’t trust yourself.’
‘Would you trust me?’
‘I don’t know.’
I said the comment before I gave it any thought. When I did think it through, I came to the same conclusion.
Kohana chewed her lower lip. ‘Precisely.’