The cold drizzle felt good on Jamie’s skin, the sensation soothing some of the burning inside him, if only for a moment. He was sure it was getting worse, and, while difficult to pin down, he knew it was tied up with Lottie. There was something wrong; her light dimmed and fractured like an eclipse, and that’s what hurt, the prickly heat starting in his chest and steaming through every crack and pore of his flesh, because he couldn’t reach out to her, not with Ellie’s pact – he could only watch and let it pass.
‘I need to fight something,’ Jamie said, barely even breathless from their run around the field.
Both cooling down under the cover of a large oak tree at the edge of the field, Raphael and Haru looked up at him, their faces dewy and pink.
‘I’d volunteer, but I think you’d probably kick my ass,’ Raphael said, laughing. ‘Besides, I’m gonna go and take a shower.’
Patting Jamie on the shoulder, Raphael set off, giving a small wave to Haru before pausing to call back. ‘Jamie, you still on to watch a movie in my dorm tonight with Percy?’
Jamie held up a thumb, but his sights had already turned to Haru, the Partizan coming to stand in front of him.
‘You want to fight?’ Haru’s head tilted to the side, a lock of hair falling out of place that coiled in the damp air.
‘I’ve got a lot of steam left in me,’ Jamie said, pushing his wet hair back out of the way. ‘This weather is making everything too subdued. I feel like …’ He trailed off, embarrassed to admit the endless fire in his body. It wasn’t controlled; it wasn’t how a Partizan should behave.
But Haru didn’t ask any further questions, and, with a curious half-smile that reeked of mischief, he adjusted himself, falling comfortably into a hapkido fighting position. Jamie followed suit, unable to stop the grin of anticipation. This was the first fighting style you learned in Partizan training, the one you had to master to be allowed to graduate, making it widely accepted as the preferred martial art of Partizans. Jamie had always been a natural, his body flowing with the moves like water in a stream. It’s how he’d known he was meant to do this, that it was inside him, like it was in all good Partizans: a demon of strength that needed to be put to use. At least that’s what they’d been told.
Bodies falling into years of muscle memory, they began to move in time with each other, mirroring one another like a strange dance. Haru made the first move, his right arm coming over his shoulder to meet the side of Jamie’s face. He knew this move like he knew the palm of his hand, and with a small side step he transferred the weight over to his left leg and batted Haru’s arm away. Usually at this point he would pull the Partizan over his shoulder, spinning his arm round and throwing him on to his back, but, just as he went to do it, Haru countered the move, his other arm coming to twist him away. Jamie tried to get his bearings, slipping his leg out in front to block Haru’s footing, only he didn’t move how he anticipated. It was like fighting the wind, and it constantly changed direction, pulling him from one side before spinning him out, and just when Jamie was sure Haru would throw him violently down, instead he collapsed Jamie’s knee with his shin and twirled him round, gripping his hand and pulling him up mere inches before his face met the mud.
Panting from both the thrill and the exertion, Jamie righted himself. He wasn’t mad he’d lost; he was elated. This was the first time in all his years of being a Partizan that anyone had ever surprised him.
They both fell back into their stances, sweat mingling with the rain, making them glow with each heavy breath.
‘Did you ever specialize in a weapon?’ Jamie asked, suddenly curious.
‘Rope.’
He laughed as Haru shrugged, the two of them still poised, ready for another round. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’
Haru cocked an eyebrow. ‘How about you?’
‘I don’t want to say.’
‘Oh, Jamie-kun.’ His lips twisted, freckled nose wrinkling to stop himself laughing. ‘You didn’t fight with fans, did you?’
‘I was unbeatable,’ Jamie asserted, not quite believing how easy it was to laugh with Haru, how good it felt to have another Partizan he could talk to. ‘Let’s do another round.’
Sprinting forward, Jamie barely gave Haru a moment to prepare. Slicing through the air, he reached out to grab Haru under the shoulder. This time Jamie expected the unexpected, waiting for Haru’s body to show him where it was moving, like watching a wind chime move, every tiny sound and sway letting him follow the rhythm of Haru’s form. They were nearly at an impasse, one grabbing the other, one spinning out, one nearly landing a hit, one deflecting, until one wrong breath had the sweet scent of marshmallow filling Jamie’s nose, the smell so warm and inviting that he lingered a little too long, his hand flying out with too much force, so that Haru had to manoeuvre himself out of the way, but not before Jamie grabbed hold of his shirt.
With a great ripping sound, the fabric tore down the middle and Haru recoiled, but not quite fast enough.
Jamie saw it: a small scar on his stomach.
He felt the ground give way beneath him, taking him back to the end of summer, when he’d said goodbye to Haru and watched him recoil then too, but in pain, that scarred wound still fresh. ‘It’s you …’
Jamie tried to make sense of his thoughts. The seed had planted itself because he knew what the wound was, he’d known all along, and now his mind felt like it was plummeting again, the ground breaking away until he was back to the roof in Tokyo.
Haru tried to reach a hand out, but Jamie batted it away, stumbling backwards into a tree behind him, blinking up at the Partizan he’d grown so fond of, because his face was gone. The fireside smile and dark fawn eyes were cracked, and behind them he could see a bird mask, the one on the roof in Tokyo.
‘You’re the bird from the roof.’ It was all Jamie could say.
There had been a boy in a bird mask, who’d been hit by a knife in that exact spot.
Haru had been his enemy the whole time.
Jamie shook his head, staggering back into the tree. ‘You lied to me.’
He could hardly believe the sound of his voice, petulant, whimpering. It made him furious.
When his eyes finally focused, Haru had his hands up, ripped T-shirt leaving him vulnerable to the rain. Whatever look Jamie had on his face, it was enough for Haru to have his feet locked in a defensive pose, ready to fight. This was the real Haru, burning with the same fire Jamie had inside him.
‘All that stuff you said before … was that a lie too?’ Jamie growled. ‘Trying to make me feel like I owed you?’
‘No, Jamie.’ Hands still in the air, Haru held his gaze. ‘That was true. I chose to come here because I like you. We get to make our own choices.’
‘How can I trust you any more?’ Jamie snarled.
Seeing the drop in his defence, Haru took a cautious step forward.
‘We never lied to you, Jamie. We’ve been waiting. Giving them a chance to put this right. One they haven’t taken. I was going to tell you today, after training. I didn’t want it to be this way, you have to believe me.’
Suspicion stirred. ‘What are you talking about?’ Jamie asked. ‘Giving who a chance?’
The sinking feeling in his chest got heavier, his mind refusing to acknowledge what somehow he already knew.
‘They sold you out, Jamie.’
‘No, I don’t trust you.’ Jamie tried to stand firm but his voice wavered. ‘You’re lying.’
Haru took another step forward, but Jamie couldn’t muster the sense to push him away, and when he spoke it wasn’t at all what he expected.
‘Jamie, you are so much more than you know. You think you are the knight, but you are the one who needs rescuing.’
The world seemed to rock on its axis. Jamie felt the earth beneath his feet, the drizzle christening his skin. He felt as though he was sinking into the ground, an open grave ready to swallow him.
‘Your princess, she sold you out.’ The very mention of Ellie made him even more dizzy. ‘She made a deal with me at the start of the year and traded you and your ignorance in exchange for information.’
Jamie tried to cling on to the world around him, to the belief that Haru was lying, but he wavered. ‘You’re lying,’ he repeated, but it felt more like he was trying to persuade himself.
The rain was getting heavier. He could almost see them in the haze. Lottie and his princess. Lottie who would do anything for his princess. Lottie who’d become so corrupted by the wolves of the royal family that they’d twisted all that was kind about her.
‘Go. Ask her,’ Haru demanded, snapping Jamie out of his vision.
‘What does my princess know?’ Jamie was shocked at the venom in his voice.
‘Everything you don’t.’ Haru snatched up his jacket and began to pull it around himself, covering up his scar. ‘This whole time your princess and her friends have known who I am, and I had to watch them keep you in the dark, waiting for them to prove themselves, but they disappointed me.’ Each syllable fell out of Haru’s mouth like a poison dart. But they weren’t painful; they were transformative.
Jamie felt the demons inside him coming to the surface. All the secrets, all the lies, all the misplaced trust … Before he knew it, he was a growling beast. He punched the tree behind him, his knuckles exploding with pain. It felt good.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ Haru continued smoothly like Jamie was a wild animal that needed soothing. ‘Why would they keep such a thing from you? Why don’t they trust you?’
‘Why would they –’
‘Ask her.’ Haru said it again so simply, as if it were the most obvious choice, and it snapped Jamie’s attention back to him. ‘I’ll be waiting for you at the main gate when you’ve learned what they’re keeping from you. I’ll take you where you need to go. And I promise that if, when you learn the truth, you decide to stay here, we will leave you alone forever.’ He placed a hand softly on Jamie’s shoulder, his thumb resting over the jugular until he could feel his heartbeat. ‘It’s time for you to know who you are.’
