Kaitou Magician Origins Chapter Two: Kamura Karin
¡°What are you reading, Kamura-senpai?¡± Mikai asked, looking over Karin¡¯s shoulder. By now, she was almost used to him always showing up beneath the willow tree on the junior high campus on days he didn¡¯t have student council meetings. Nonetheless, she had been startled—when had he crept up behind her?
¡°Nothing,¡± Karin replied, slamming her book, peeved that she had been caught off guard. ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you I don¡¯t like nosy people? Why are you always bothering me? Don¡¯t you have anything better to do?¡±
They both looked up to see the stream of girls across the fence shouting, ¡°Where did Mikai-sama disappear to again? We must give him our cookies and congratulate him on winning Nationals!¡±
Sighing, Mikai swung open his laptop and resumed his project, not paying any heed to the distracting environment.
Their lunchtime repose underneath the tree had become routine, and Karin couldn¡¯t even get mad at Mikai because he never did bother her at all; he always had work to do, and when he spoke, she gradually learned to respond naturally. He never demanded anything of her, and she found that she actually missed his quiet presence on days he had student council meetings.
Little by little, she found herself unwillingly staring at the gentle-featured boy more and more often, observing his various little habits and mannerisms, the way the wind ran through his silky auburn hair, the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his longer fingers flew over the keyboard when he typed, so that she could barely trace its movement. Out of everything, she admired his hands the most, very un-childlike hands. Most boys she knew had short, stubby fingers with dirty with ragged nails. Mikai¡¯s hand were long, his fingers slender and agile, and he moved them with such a grace. Like a magician¡¯s hand.
¡°Do you have a question, senpai?¡± Mikai asked, still typing.
¡°Huh?¡± Immediately, Karin was embarrassed to have been caught staring. ¡°N-no!¡±
¡°Really?¡± Mikai continued to type.
Overcome by curiosity, Karin finally asked, ¡°What are you always doing on your laptop?¡±
¡°Programming,¡± Mikai replied.
¡°Programming?¡± Karin repeated. ¡°For class?¡±
¡°No, just random various projects,¡± Mikai replied, saving his work. ¡°For my father¡¯s company—mainly computer games, and also a government database hacking program.¡±
¡°Eh?¡± Karin¡¯s pale violet eyes turned round. Then she remembered she herself said that she hated nosy people and pretended to resume reading. Once in a while, she peaked over Mikai¡¯s shoulders to check what he was doing.
¡°Kamura-senpai,¡± Mikai said after a while. ¡°Won¡¯t you teach me some magic tricks?¡±
¡°Why do you want to learn?¡± Karin asked. ¡°It¡¯s just a stupid, useless pastime.¡±
¡°If it¡¯s so useless, why are you always reading books on famous magicians and explanations on their tricks?¡± Mikai asked.
Karin blinked at her shut book, which had been covered with protective white paper, hiding the title. The boy was much sharper than he looked. Caught off-guard, she rambled, ¡°Well, it¡¯s awfully boring, and I¡¯m not that great of a teacher since I don¡¯t know that much, but if you still want to learn¡¦¡±
¡°Just tell me what to do,¡± Mikai replied.
For a second, Karin¡¯s eyes sparkled like forget-me-nots behind her glasses. Her usual languid composure slipped, and she sat up. ¡°I warned you it may be tedious and boring. Well, first of all, magic shows are half illusion and half acting and poise. Eye contact with the audience is most important. So is sleight of hand. Keeping this all in mind, you must never repeat the same magic trick to someone or else you lose the novelty of it. And¡¦¡±
Over the next couple of weeks, Mikai learned how to conjure up flowers from midair, pull a flock of doves out of a top hat, and make scarves dance on their own. In return, Kamura Karin showed up to more archery practices, and Mikai patiently taught her the basic form and discipline required in archery.
¡°It¡¯s autumn already, Kamura-senpai,¡± Mikai commented. They both stared up at the tree and found the leaves the color of Mikai¡¯s hair. He sat down in his usual spot underneath the tree.
¡°I thought you weren¡¯t coming,¡± Karin set, setting aside her book. The previous day during archery practice, she had hit the closest yet to bull¡¯s eye, which was only the red ring, but still an improvement—of course it was only a one-time lucky shot, but Mikai had reassured her that practice made perfect.
Meanwhile, Mikai had mastered all the magic tricks that Karin knew—she had been surprised at how quickly Mikai had picked up all the tricks that had taken her years to learn and perfect.
¡°Ah, I¡¯m just a quick learner,¡± Mikai had laughed sheepishly, when she grudgingly mentioned how adept he was at the magic tricks she taught him.
¡°Well, the weather will be getting to cold to sit out here anymore,¡± Karin said, longingly fingering the withering grass. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ve taught you all the magic tricks I know. And I don¡¯t think you can teach me anymore in archery either—I¡¯ve got the basics now, at least.¡±
¡°Oh, there¡¯s always more to learn,¡± Mikai replied, shuffling a deck of cards in a wave motion, then letting them pile on one palm.
¡°Where did you learn all those card tricks?¡± Karin asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think I taught them to you—I can¡¯t do card tricks.¡±
¡°From my father,¡± Mikai replied. ¡°He had an interest in—err—gambling, among his many hobbies. Don¡¯t tell okaa-san though—she¡¯ll get mad. Oh, should I teach these card tricks to you? These are really simple.¡±
Sighing, Karin said, ¡°I¡¯ve tried to do all those fancy card stuff. It¡¯ll look cool when I do my Tarot card readings. But my hands are just not suited for the magician business—my fingers are too short and stubby.¡± She held up her hand. Mikai placed his palm against hers. His fingers clearly extended over hers. ¡°See, you have a magician¡¯s hand. You¡¯re fingers are long and supple. That¡¯s why you¡¯re better at the magic tricks that I taught you than me, your teacher. No matter how I try, I can¡¯t achieve the same effect.¡±
¡°It¡¯s just a small handicap on your part,¡± Mikai replied, taking away his hand. ¡°You still have much more knowledge on the theory behind those tricks than me, anyway. You never told me why you¡¯re so interested in magic though. Is your dream to become a magician?¡±
Karin stared at the sky avoiding eye contact.
¡°I¡¯m sure you can become a marvelous one,¡± Mikai said.
Since home was no longer the tranquil sanctuary it once was due to his parents¡¯ constant bickering and school was a constant pressure with teachers piling on recommendations for junior high, the archer instructor coercing him to sign Olympics applications and students always chasing him hounding him about student council meetings or various other reasons, lunchtime with Kamura-senpai was a rare moment of repose throughout the day. One time, Mikai found Karin sitting by the willow tree, not reading for a change. He watched her lay out a deck of Tarot cards on the grass. ¡°Can you actually read the future with that?¡±
¡°Not exactly. The future is constantly changing,¡± replied Karin. ¡°But I can see certain obstacles and players in those obstacles in forming. Sometimes.¡±
¡°So, that thing actually works?¡± Mikai asked.
Karin turned to Mikai, annoyed. ¡°What, you¡¯re skeptical? I can read your hand if you want.¡±
¡°No thank you,¡± replied Mikai with a grin. ¡°I don¡¯t believe in fate and that sort of stuff.¡±
¡°Well, everything happens for a reason,¡± stated Karin. ¡°And there¡¯s nothing you can do to change that. If you know what is ahead, you can at least prepare for it.¡±
Mikai grinned crookedly. ¡°What¡¯s the fun in life if you know what¡¯ll happen in the future? What¡¯ll come will come.¡±
¡°That sounds sort of irresponsible and uncharacteristic of you,¡± Karin remarked wryly.
¡°What is characteristic of me?¡± Mikai asked, kneeling in front of Karin. ¡°Who is ¡®Tanaka Mikai¡¯ in your eyes?¡±
¡°The Prince of Eitoukou. You live to please others—but you are happy when those around you are happy.¡±
¡°So that¡¯s how you see me,¡± murmured Mikai. He looked rather pensive. ¡°My mother once told me that those who are happy will see simply their own reflection in the Mirror of Truth.¡±
¡°What is this Mirror of Truth?¡± asked Karin.
¡°The Mirror of Truth is a family heirloom from my mother¡¯s side. Legend has it that it belonged to a princess of a far off kingdom. She asked her lover who was a mirror-maker to make her a mirror that showed her reflection exactly as she is. After many years, the mirror-maker finally completed this magic mirror.¡±
¡°So, what happened when she looked at her reflection in the mirror?¡± Karin asked.
¡°When she looked in the mirror, she found simply a woman in love with a man, not the princess of some land. And she went off with her love, the mirror-maker,¡± replied Mikai.
Karin had to smile now—Mikai was a natural storyteller. ¡°And so, your family is in possession of such a precious magical mirror?¡±
¡°Miho and I used to pretend that the mirror was an enchanted mirror when we were little, a gateway to a fantasyland or a magic glass where we can see the past or the future,¡± Mikai grinned lopsided. ¡°But no matter how hard we looked, we only saw our own reflection in the mirror. So legend is only legend.¡±
¡°Or maybe your mother is right, and those who are truly happy see but their own reflection,¡± remarked Karin with a wistful smile.
¡°Perhaps,¡± replied Mikai.
¡°So, how do you perceive me?¡± Karin asked.
¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mikai said honestly. ¡°Though you¡¯re here, sometimes, I feel like you¡¯re not here. I don¡¯t know if that makes any sense. I want to get to know you but I feel a barrier the closer I get to you. But I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s a barrier from you or from me.¡±
At this, Karin stared at the younger boy with eyes like a cloudy sky that seemed to watch her with the solemnity of an old man. Though Mikai was popular, he did not have any close friends. He was friends with everybody hence friends with no one. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right—we both have a barrier around us. I¡¯m always looking towards the future, forward and forward, to the day I can get out of here,¡± replied Karin. ¡°You are someone content with the present, so you live in the present, never looking ahead, never looking the to the past, because your past is your present. My past is a mystery, my present is a living hell, and I can only look towards the future, to the day when I have control over my own life and no longer have to be susceptible to what is written on a deck of cards.¡±
Mikai stared at her hard. He had always sensed that there was an air of uneasiness around Karin, something he had never felt in anyone before, not his family nor his friends. Till now, he had never been able to pin it—it was an air of desperation present in so many people but unfamiliar in Mikai¡¯s closed world. Kamura Karin was unhappy and all these months of knowing her, he had never realized it until now. For the first time, he felt helpless in the presence of another human being.
In Mikai¡¯s moment of reflection, Karin had finally finished arranging the Tarot cards in the Celtic cross and carefully flipped the cards. Seeing the final card, she frowned.
Mikai caught the expression. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Kamura-senpai?¡±
¡°N-nothing,¡± Karin stammered.
******
¡°Tanaka-kun, you should consider taking
accelerated science next year when you enter junior high. With your grades, you
should easily get a scholarship to
¡°Not particularly,¡± Mikai replied, shifting uncomfortably in front of the teacher¡¯s desk. His homeroom teacher liked to do this about once a month: call him to the teacher¡¯s office and discussing his records with him, prodding him to excel further. ¡°I might want to become involved in the government. Maybe some form of law-enforcement agency. Or I¡¯m interested in computer programming also. Government secret service is also an option.¡±
¡°Ah, well, with your talents, anything is a possibility. You can become a professional archer for all that matters, though it would be a waste of your brains. We did get several calls from the Japan Olympic Commission—they¡¯re interested in whether you want to enter the upcoming Olympic Competitions.¡± The teacher giggled nervously.
¡°I am not interested,¡± Mikai said politely. Every month or so, various sports managers tried to make him sign contracts for the Olympics. Even the Kinhoshi Enterprise had shown an interest in sponsoring him for the competitions. As long as archery remained a hobby for him, he would enjoy it, but once people tried to make a profit off him, he drew the line. Luckily, his parents left it up to him to pursue what he desired at the level and pace he desired it.
¡°If you say so¡¦¡± the teacher sighed reluctantly.
¡°Then, if you would excuse me, I have some papers I have to finish for student council,¡± Mikai said, bowing and finally escaping.
The leaves had fallen off the branches of the trees and blanketed the little slope in a carpet of rich amber, gold and orange. Karin, with her golden hair blowing in the breeze, head buried in her book, was not there today. Mikai sighed. Perhaps he had grown dependant on Karin¡¯s company. She was the one person at school who did not seem to want anything from him; she just let him be.
When she did not show up the next day nor the next, he became worried.
¡°Sorry, but do you know where Kamura Karin-senpai is?¡± Mikai asked one of her classmates, when he found a moment to slip into the junior high building.
¡°I-I, don¡¯t know,¡± the girl stammered. ¡°Nobody really notices whether she comes to class or not, anyway.¡±
Signing, Mikai turned around.
¡°Oh my gosh, is that boy the Prince?¡± the junior high girl squealed to her friend. ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s younger than us?¡±
¡°Why in the world is the Prince looking for that horrid Kamura Karin? Maybe she bullied his little sister.¡±
They giggled.
Next, he tried Karin¡¯s homeroom teacher. ¡°Sensei, I had a question.¡±
¡°Anything for you, Tanaka-kun. You know how proud our school is of your great accomplishments in the recent archery competitions¡¦¡±
¡°Thank you. Sensei, I was just wondering if you know where one of your students, Kamura Karin is—she hasn¡¯t been in school for a couple days.¡±
¡°Oh, Kamura-san?¡± the junior high teacher wrinkled his nose. ¡°She doesn¡¯t have a steady record like you, which is surprising considering she¡¯s a scholarship student. Her mother hasn¡¯t called in saying that she was sick or anything. I¡¯ve given up on that girl. Why can¡¯t every student be a model student like you, Tanaka-kun? I must say, I would be proud so see you taking advantage of the accelerated science program next year—¡°
¡°Excuse me, is it possible for you to give me her address?¡± Mikai interrupted.
¡°Well, since it¡¯s you asking—¡° The teacher flipped through the directory.
******
¡°Miho, can you go home by yourself today?¡± Mikai asked his little sister after school.
¡°Why?¡± Miho demanded. ¡°Onii-chan promised to help me with my art project tonight.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll help you tomorrow, all right?¡± Mikai replied. ¡°I have something important to do.¡±
Though Mikai had never used public transportation before since the Tanaka chauffeur always drove Miho and him to places, he did not have much trouble figuring out the bus schedule and taking the bus to the neighborhood that Karin lived in.
When he got off the bus, he was taken back by how shabby the neighborhood was. The houses were built closely together and were run-down—some even had cracked windows. There was trash piled outside near the sidewalk and very few trees and shrubs grew in the sparse lawns. How could anyone live in such a cramped, ugly house?
Finally, he came to the address the teacher had given him. The narrow two-story house was the exact same construction as the rest of the houses in the street, gray and dingy. He was hesitant to knock on the door. There was a crashing sound inside, like a plate shattering. Then he heard a muffled male voice shout, ¡°You brat, you piece of trash! I¡¯m done with you. Get out of this house, now!¡±
It was returned by a young female voice, full of venom. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll leave then! I hate this place. I hate you!¡±
There was a sound of a slap, interjected by a piercing shriek and then a thud.
Mikai stood at the door, paralyzed.
¡°Don¡¯t hit her!¡± a third voice sounded.
¡°Stay out of this, woman!¡± This time, there was the sound of a body being flung against chairs.
¡°Okaa-san!¡± There was a brief silence. ¡°How dare you strike my mother? Do you think I¡¯ll forgive you for this?¡± A voice full of anger, hysteria and bitterness. Such a tone he had never heard before in another human.
There was another startling crisp sound of a slap and a muffled scream. More whacks, more screams. Then a scuffling sound, furniture being moved around, chairs and tables crashing to the floor. A baby began to wail.
The man shouted, ¡°Get out of here, you good-for-nothing bastard¡¯s child. GET OUT!¡± Doors slammed. The baby wailed louder. There was the sound of footsteps, a scuffling in front of the door, and the door swung open. A girl with golden hair streaming out loose and tangled behind her, streaked out of the door, half-tripping as she scuffled to put on her shoes. She slammed the door behind her and ran off.
Coming to his senses, Mikai chased after her. ¡°Kamura-senpai! Kamura Karin!¡±
They were nearly in the next block by the time he could catch hold of her arm and stop her. She swerved around, revealing her tears to him for the first time. Karin did not have her usual glasses, and her hair half-covered her bruised cheek; her cracked lips were swollen blistered. He knew the rest of her body must have fared worse. Though he half expected her to push him away, instead, she flung her head into his chest. Then did he realize how hard she was trembling, how frail and thin her shoulders seemed and how hard she was sobbing. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her, somehow sensing that she probably didn¡¯t even have any recognition of who he was, that she just needed someone to lean against at that moment.
He held her without saying a word until she was calmer.
¡°Take me away from here, Mikai,¡± she whispered finally. She didn¡¯t even look surprised to find him there.
¡°I¡¯ll take you away, I¡¯ll protect you, so don¡¯t cry,¡± he murmured back. He knew that Karin always acted upon her own whim and impulse, that she had little use for him. But, more than anything, he wanted to do all that was within his power to make her smile, to wipe the tears from those soft rose-blushed cheeks. ¡°Where do you want to go?¡±
¡°Anywhere.¡±
******
For the first time in his life, Mikai played a delinquent and missed school. The next day, he received his first school warning but he did not care. All he could think about was that would be able to see Kamura Karin during lunch break.
¡°It¡¯s not like you, Tanaka-kun. You missed your history finals,¡± said his teacher. ¡°Your parents were frantic searching for you—¡±
¡°I apologize, sensei. Something like this would never happen again.¡±
¡°You¡¯re usually such a responsible student,¡± replied his teacher. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that you¡¯ve been hanging out with junior high¡¯s Kamura Karin—she¡¯s had trouble with the school before¡¦¡±
For a second, a fierce gleam came over his blue-gray eyes that his teacher was not sure if he liked. ¡°It had nothing to do with her. I can take the test today. I won¡¯t disappoint you again, sensei,¡± said Mikai calmly. And the teacher dismissed him.
He did not care of the whispers of students in the hallway—the Prince had been scolded by the teacher. Supposedly he was hanging out with that horrible junior high girl. He did not care that his mother had reprimanded him. All he wanted to do was go to their secret spot under the willow tree and see Kamura Karin with her light lavender-marble eyes.
Perhaps Mikai felt a little worse after his conversation with his father, who awaited him that evening, sitting in his basement studio, a smock over his long-sleeved soft cotton polo shirt. Tanaka Keisuke¡¯s rust-gold hair was slicked back and through gold rectangle-framed glasses, his brook brown eyes solemnly met his son¡¯s eyes. ¡°So, I heard you played truant yesterday, Mikai-kun.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry for making you and okaa-san worry,¡± said Mikai bowing down.
¡°So, are you willing to share with me where you were?¡± his father said, setting down his sketch pad. The basement basically served as his father¡¯s art studio and quiet thinking spot. The open space was filled with unfinished canvases and jars of paints and boxes of old art portfolios from his college days, as well as all the junk that Miara did not want to be seen upstairs.
Mikai stared at his feet wordless.
Sighing, Keisuke remarked, ¡°You¡¯re going to be a junior high student next year. You and Miho are growing up so fast. Of course there¡¯ll be things you won¡¯t want to share with your old dad. I was like that in my school days. I was reckless and carefree and tried to avoid my father and brother at all costs. But you¡¯ve been such a good kid Mikai, better than I ever hoped to be. It¡¯s all right to let loose a bit and just do what you want. Just, let us know where you will be at, so we don¡¯t have to worry something happened to you. Miho was up crying all night.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry, it won¡¯t happen again, otou-san,¡± Mikai said. Yesterday, he had completely forgotten about Miho.
¡°Mikai, it is natural to bolt once in a while. You don¡¯t always have to conform to what you think people expect from you,¡± his father said.
¡°Pardon me?¡±
¡°You can be perfectly content with everything you have yet still feel something lacking.¡± Keisuke shut his eyes, perhaps thinking of his own far-off school days than Mikai standing before him. ¡°Society has wrought a golden cage for us. It is safe inside the cage. But it is only human nature for a man to wish to be free.¡±
Something strange settled inside Mikai¡¯s stomach, like the impact of a fly that had flown into a glass window that it did not know existed. It was like Karin had said—she desired to grow up so that she could be free to do as she willed. Yet, his father was a grownup but was not free because he was an adult.
Hands clasped in front of him, Keisuke asked sternly, ¡°So, was it girl?¡±
¡°Otou-san!¡± Mikai turned red. Now, he could see his father¡¯s eyes twinkling behind his glass frames.
¡°You¡¯re a big boy and can have a good man-to-man conversation with me now.¡± Though Keisuke had seemed more haggard from work lately, when he smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkled, and Mikai was glad to the father he knew back. ¡°You were with a girl, huh? Ah, you¡¯re at the age already. Good times, good times.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t tell okaa-san—she¡¯ll never let me hear the end of it!¡± Mikai exclaimed in horror—he only too well knew how meddlesome his mother could be and with her acerbic tongue, she would tease him endlessly.
¡°Boy do I know that better than anyone else—she witnessed me getting rejected by my first love and never let¡¯s me hear the end of it till this day.¡± Keisuke clapped his son¡¯s back. ¡°This is a man-to-man conversation just between the two of us.¡±
Mikai nodded with a grin. Both Miho and he
had heard the story numerous times from their mother. Their father, when he was
a college student, had worked as the advisor for Seijou High art club. There
had been a school production of the Phantom of the Opera, a collaboration
between the high school and junior high division, and as the art club advisor,
Keisuke had been the set designer. At that time, junior high student Miara had her eyes set on a high school exchange student
from
¡°Amamiya-san, you are my muse. Please go out with me!¡± Keisuke had declared the moment he set eyes on the heavenly creature with emerald eyes and long violet curls.
¡°Hoe? We¡¯re already outside. Where do you want me to go with you to?¡± had been Amamiya Nadeshiko¡¯s puzzled reply.
Li Ryuuren and Mizuki Miara, who had been standing by burst out in laughter, clutching their stomach. Poor Nadeshiko glanced around, baffled at what was so funny, and Keisuke sunk to his knees in shock at the flat-out rejection from his first love. That was the beginning of the four¡¯s friendship and the memory of those golden years even time could not rob.
¡°Ah, youth,¡± Keisuke declared nostalgically,
staring at his son who had accomplished more in twelve years than he had in
forty. In his own youth, he had never bothered to study hard. He spent college
bumming around in a bohemian lifestyle until his father threatened to cut off
all tied with him. The time he spent at
There were footsteps in the stairwell, and Miara poked her head into the basement. ¡°What are you two boys whispering about down there?¡±
Keisuke and Mikai glanced at each other, lips tight.
Hands on hips, Miara sighed. ¡°Well, come up for dinner—it¡¯s so hard for us to gather together these days with outo-san always busy with work.¡±
Miho skipped down the stairs and flung her arms around her father¡¯s solid waist. ¡°Otou-san, piggyback ride!¡±
Laughing, Keisuke swung Miho up on his back. ¡°Oomph—you¡¯re getting too big for this, Miho-hime.¡±
Watching Miho wrap her arms around her father¡¯s broad back, Mikai followed his mother up the stairs to the dining room. It saddened him thinking that Karin never had this, never received a warm hug from her father, never felt that home was home.
Because Mikai¡¯s pillar was his home, and without his family, he was nothing.
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