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cheat on you, Myu. That friend of his, Shiori? The baby isn’t his. They never even dated or anything.”
    “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Myu stammered, her eyes glistening with the tears she fought to hold back. “I found the drawing. He admitted it to me.”
    “It wasn’t true,” Tanaka said.
    Keiko rolled her eyes. “Oh, great, so he just made up a horrible lie to break up with her? That’s so much better, Ichirou.”
    Tanaka waved his arms in the air. How was he screwing up so badly? “It wasn’t like that,” he protested. “Katie told Yuki and me. He wanted to protect her from some bad stuff or something—you know, his friend Ishikawa and his connections. He was trying to be a good guy, I swear. I’m sorry, Myu, and I know it sounds stupid but...he wasn’t trying to hurt you. That’s not the Tomo-kun I know.”
    “That’s what I thought, too,” Myu said slowly. “It didn’t fit.”
    “Yeah, well, you guys were wrong,” Keiko said. “True or not, that was a total jerk move. And you’re avoiding the topic, Ichirou.”
    “You’re right,” Myu said, but Tanaka saw the doubt on her face. He wished she’d believe him. Maybe she’d find some peace in what had happened. And Yuki? Would she be okay thinking Tanaka didn’t care about her at all? Sitting at home with soggy fried shrimp, wondering where she went wrong.
    No. He couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want to ever see her in pain like Myu. By not acting, he might be hurting her, too. He didn’t want to hurt her, even if it meant reading her signals wrong and losing her as his best friend. Maybe the bentou was her way of lifting up her hand for his. He wanted to take her hand, to move forward. He’d do everything he could.
    “Oneechan,” Tanaka said. “Help me win Yuki over.”
    Keiko smiled. “Now you’re talking.”

Chapter Five
    Izanami held the baby to her chest, unwilling to look at the horns spiraling through the little girl’s hair. Hiruko tugged at the end of Izanami’s robe, his misshapen body falling backward from the force of the pull. He began to wail and Izanami leaned over to scoop him into the crook of her other arm. The baby girl bared fangs at her older brother, swiping at him with her tiny clawed hand.
    How had it turned out like this? Izanami sighed. She liked painting creatures that lurked in shadow as much as those in light, but how could something so unsettling come from her love for Izanagi? Hiruko had no bones, unable to sit up for more than a moment before his flesh pulled him down, and now Awashima, her daughter, days old, was passionate to destroy. It didn’t seem right, when Izanami had wanted to create such beauty in the world.
    Izanagi had held his tongue at Hiruko’s birth, but now with Awashima, he wouldn’t be able to stay silent much longer. He loved the new
kami
as much as she did, but he knew the threat they posed—the first imperfect things in the new world, the first destroyers. Hiruko seemed harmless enough, but Awashima would only become fiercer and more capable. She would tear the world to shreds, and nothing would remain of the painting Izanami had been working so hard to build around her.
    Awashima sliced her claws into Izanami’s arm, the blood trickling down her skin and oozing to the floor like ink. Izanami said nothing, only placing the child in her basket and returning Hiruko to the floor beside his sister. She stepped outside of the doorway, to where Izanagi sat on the shore, watching the dark waves of ink churn and froth against the sand.
    “Have I done wrongly?” Izanami said, sitting beside her husband. Izanagi shook his head, staring into the foaming waves. “They are wild and unlike any
kami
I’ve known before.”
    “They are not
kami
,” Izanagi said, “but
youkai
. Devils. Nothing is right with this.”
    Izanami longed to reach out for his hand, but it had been so long. She hadn’t felt warmth there, the last time, his fingers cold as the ocean water.