Pandion (Genera #1)

Chapter 36

‘ T ea’ was a three-course meal. Harumine had half-expected there to be a chef, but Kagesawa’s mother did most of the preparations with her daughter. Kagesawa was banned from the kitchen for causing trouble, which seemed silly knowing he’d managed to cook for himself for years without burning down his apartment or losing any fingers. The traditional gender roles also seemed alive and well in this household.

“So, where are you heading with this link of yours? What are you going to do?” Reika was the only one interested enough to ask, but even she seemed like she was merely trying to make conversation.

“I’m tagging along with Satoru to go visit his family up north.” Kagesawa passed Harumine the steamed vegetables.

“You’re not going to be a burden over there? Do you need money?” Kagesawa’s father asked.

“I can take care of myself, thank you.” Kagesawa served Harumine the rice. He’d been exceptionally attentive all day, possibly to distract himself.

“It’s fine if you need some—”

“Stop babying him, dear,” Kagesawa’s mother stepped in. It was the first time Harumine heard her speak.

“So, Hokkaidō then? What does your family do?” Reika was kind enough to keep the conversation moving. She poured Harumine a glass of wine.

“They grow lily bulbs. My aunt’s family owns a restaurant called ‘Yurineko’.”

“You’re from a small town? A family business? Sounds charming.” Reika seemed genuinely curious. “Where did you go to school? Does Hokkaidō have empath schools?”

While there were certainly places in Japan with no empath schools, her perception of Hokkaidō seemed skewed. Harumine hadn’t thought there’d be a day he’d feel disappointed to reveal his alma mater, but it would have been so satisfying to correct her with something impressive closer to home.

“They have good schools, but I got into the SEU, so…”

“Tsk.” Kagesawa’s mother looked away. The corner of her eye twitched as she suppressed what seemed like anger. What was her deal? It wasn’t as if Harumine meant to brag. Reika had asked. It would have been rude to not answer.

“Oh, that’s top tier, isn’t it?” Reika ignored her mother. “You must be really good. How did you end up with him? Did someone pay you?”

Kagesawa sighed and hung his head down. Not this again.

“I wasn’t paid anything.” Harumine enunciated as clearly as he could.

“Are you looking for some compensation?” Kagesawa’s father jumped in. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Of course n—”

“Shush! No. No more of this.” Kagesawa’s mother stood up. She glared at Harumine but said nothing more. Instead, she stormed out of the dining room. Reika looked confused, but her father did not.

“I don’t want to be compensated. There’s really no need.” Harumine glanced at Kagesawa, worried. It’s stupid. You’re great.

“You’ll have to excuse your mother. She is cross with the SEU for rejecting the application.” Kagesawa’s father continued with his meal undisturbed.

“Why’s she mad at them? I’m the one that botched the entrance exam,” Kagesawa noted.

“She said it was discrimination and that they should have given you more allowances for the DEFD. I don’t think she’ll ever let that go. You know what she’s like.”

“I was never supposed to be qualified in the first place. Did she know that? Did you? No one bothered to tell me.” Kagesawa didn’t sound upset, just disappointed.

“The whole thing was a sham, a big mistake. DEFD? What DEFD? You needed better tutors and teachers, and you needed to apply yourself properly. And see, you must have done something right to have them pair you up with him without me having to pay for it. If you’re not here to ask for money, what are you here for? To finally thank us for our efforts?” The suggestion was so preposterous Harumine didn’t know what to say. Kagesawa also fell silent. “It was a right mess to deal with after that quack’s diagnosis. We ended up having to make arrangements with the Ayano-boy to take the exam for you in exchange for his tuition.

“Then when the EA was going to launch an inquiry after your graduation; our lawyer advised us to skip the compatibility testing and manually assign you your first linking partner before they had the chance. Once that was done, your files were moved to another archive where it was easy to make a few alterations. We did have to pay Ayano-kun a hefty sum to agree to it, but since you said you wanted to be an empath, what else could we do? After all that, I think we deserve some thanks. It was especially hard on your mother. I recall she was distraught for weeks when you got rejected so many times.” Kagesawa’s father appeared to cringe at the memory. “Not that it pleased me to see my son fail repeatedly. It was shameful.”

“I apologise. Thank you.”

Kagesawa’s forthright apology and show of gratitude made Harumine’s stomach turn. It didn’t seem at all fair that he’d need to thank his parents for pushing him straight into peril, no matter how unintentional it had been or how well-meaning they were. They should have cared enough to take the time to educate themselves!

Harumine felt compelled to say something, but before he could, Kagesawa added, “You helped make my life a living hell. To think you could have saved all three of us a whole lot of trouble by simply saying ‘no’ to me… But it’s all right. If I don’t end up getting zapped to death and can have him as a link from now on, I’ll be happy. I really am thankful for that.” He stood up and bowed to his father. His father looked troubled, perhaps because he couldn’t be sure whether his son was showing this gratitude in earnest or if he should be insulted by the gesture.

“That’s enough,” he said, visibly abashed by Kagesawa still bowing. “More importantly, you should apologise to your mother.”

When Kagesawa left the table to actually do so, his father frowned and raised a hand to try to stop him. Having missed the right timing, he cleared his throat and resumed his meal. The silence that ensued was heavy and awkward. Finally, after several discreet false starts, Reika managed to force out her question.

“Did he say ‘zapped to death’?” She asked this from Harumine but turned to her father, visibly worried. “Did you know about that?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“There have been incidents with empaths recently. I haven’t been following it that closely, but as I understand, some injuries were reported. I’m sure it’s the usual hyperbole…”

“No. Not just injuries. Deaths. Most of us have lost someone or something, if not everything.” Harumine didn’t want to cause needless worry, but he could scarcely remain silent. The situation was utter sewage, and they ought to at least be aware of the severity. “Myself and your son included.”

“He said he didn’t need money—”

“Oh shush, Dad! I’m about to bubble wrap my little brother and bring him to Italy with me. Deaths? Here in Japan? How is that even possible?” Reika eyed them both, dropped her fork on the table and tried to look for her brother through the open door, barely staying in her seat as she did so.

“We’re fine, but the past few weeks have been rough. To be honest, I didn’t know if there was any point to us coming here.” Harumine took a deep breath. “I was hoping I’d find someone who’d look out for him in case something happened to me.”

Kagesawa’s parents didn’t exactly seem reliable or up for the job. Reika cared enough to be worried, but would she be of any use if Kagesawa needed help?

“I thought you were an elite SEU student. Nothing’s going to happen to you that you can’t handle, and you’ll take care of my brother, right?” Apparently she had some unreasonable expectations, and she wasn’t afraid to voice them.

“I’m an empath not a soldier or a bodyguard. I know some self-defence and hobby-level archery, but I don’t even carry a bow.”

Harumine hadn’t picked this profession for the danger and excitement but the intellectual challenges and the promise of a neat desk job. He did not have the stomach for any more death or injury, so, if he had to return home and pick lily bulbs for the rest of his life, that seemed like the better option.

“Is he that incompetent?” Kagesawa’s father looked sour.

“No, of course not.” Harumine was about to bust a vein from having to explain. “I’m talking about the emotional toll. He’s an adult. He can take care of himself. Hell, he’s been sorting out the lives of thousands of other people this past week despite his condition. My worry is he’s had to deal with too much to bounce back if something happens to me. He’s already had his best friend die. He’s had to leave his home and his community. I was hoping he’d have someone left to help him get back on his feet if I can’t be there for him.” It had been a stretch, but he didn’t know who else Kagesawa had to turn to if things got worse. Perhaps it was a little too optimistic to hope his family could offer him something other than money.

Kagesawa returned to the dining room alone but looked relieved.

“She said she’s tired and will stay in her room, but she accepted my apology.” He sat down and ate with a good appetite despite his food already being cold. Whatever talk he’d had with his mother, he was satisfied with it.

“I’ll have my driver take you to the ferry. The ferry should be safe if you stay in your cabin. Do you have someone picking you up when you arrive?” Kagesawa’s father asked.

“Yes, I’ve let them know when we’re coming,” Harumine replied.

“All right, you have my word. Until then, I’m trusting you with my son. Take good care of him.”

What’s with him? What did I miss? Kagesawa eyed his father and Harumine suspiciously.

“I’ll take them. It’s less conspicuous that way,” Reika said.

Kagesawa turned to stare at her instead. What did you say to them? It was not a drastic change, but Kagesawa had sensed it at once.

“Fine. But first, let’s have some dessert, and your brother can tell us what he’s been up to.” Compared to the polite small-talk from before, Kagesawa’s father now seemed sincerely interested.