Over the next couple of days, I read the volume, not one, not two, but five times. The shadowy figure was never mentioned again, but that chill returned every time I read the scene. Six months passed as the new chapters of volume two, then three released every Wednesday on the manga site. Soon that became my favourite day.

***

January 15. Ten years old. Japan.

My door was shut. I wasn't allowed to lock it, but no one said anything about shutting it. So I’d shut it. Quietly of course, surreptitiously. When my parents were out buying groceries.

Okay, maybe I was more than a little paranoid.

Nevertheless, the door was shut, and I was free to practice my swordsmanship, or at least pretend to. With my makeshift blade, a long ruler, I made slashes and thrusts at the air, trying to copy the moves Kaede did the time a bandit stole their bags, or Ahio when the same bandit called his mates for help. Currents of exhilaration rippled through my arm, releasing a longing I'd always had but seldom acknowledged. Well, maybe I had acknowledged it. The shelves of books I owned held testimony to the call for adventure I'd heard since I'd learned to read.

Leaping onto my bed, and then back onto the floor, I tried to propel myself higher and higher into the air. But I couldn’t do the stunts squad eleven often did. In Blade Fables, everyone used inner spirit, their version of magic. They could run faster and jump further than any human in our world could. Some, who were mages like Tsubasa, could do more. As a nature whisperer, he had the spirit of every living creature under his beck and call.

Sweat beading on my forehead, I dropped onto my bed, panting. For all the playacting I did, something was still missing. My heart called out for an answer I couldn’t give. Knuckles turning white, I clenched my ruler. I wanted more. More than just reading, more than just my imagination. I wanted to see it, hear it, be it.

Something glimmered in front of me, so faint I could’ve mistaken it for a trick of the light. But my curtains were closed and my room in an afternoon shadow. What is it? My breath caught in my chest. While my study-table was in front of me, an image of something else superimposed on it. Something tall yet far away. Something with a glistening crystal dome.

Heikisato’s headquarters.

With trembling legs, I stood. Have I gone mad? But regardless of how much I rubbed my eyes or blinked, the image remained. Is this real? I reached out my hands, fingertips brushing the apparition.

Clang.

My parents had arrived. The vision before me disappeared to my dismay. I was so close. A spark of anger almost made me scream. But there was no time for that. I flung the ruler onto my study-table and heaved open the door. It wouldn't do for them to find out what I'd been up to. Well, my dad wouldn’t care. He never wanted to work, even if it meant looking after his kid during the few times he wasn't off on a business trip. But my mum would get ideas that I was becoming distracted, or violent. Or she'll laugh at it as if it were too trivial to be given any more respect.

As she peeked through the doorway, I was on my chair at my study-table, perusing a fourth-grade science textbook. Her blue eyes glinted with what I could only assume to be approval.

‘You're studying? Good. I wanted to talk to you about something.’

My back straightened, and I attempted to put on a calm face and smile. What had I done now? Had she seen me? I'd drawn the curtains closed too. Oh no, was my silhouette visible making swipes with stationary? Yet I couldn't see a trace of anger around her eyes so I forced my thumping heart to calm. It couldn't be anything bad.

'Yes, Mum?'

She smiled, and more than anything, this made my breathing slow down.

'You're going into fifth grade soon, so I thought it'd be best if we got a tutor for you. I met Mrs Hashimoto at the shop, and she told me her daughter's teacher is a good one. I'll be calling her today, and maybe we could set something up this week.'

‘Tutoring?’ My dad strode over, still sporting dark circles around his eyes from jetlag. ‘Why does he need that? We can’t afford it.’

I swallowed. Not again.

My mum sighed, lips thinning into a frown. ‘We could if you stopped dishing out our money so your sister can buy a second car.’

‘We’ve talked about this already.’ He glared at her. ‘Asuka’s in university. It’s hard for them to manage with one car.’

She glared back, her voice rising with every word. ‘I suppose they’re too good for public transport. Why won’t you understand? She has you wrapped around her finger. And now you won’t pay for our child’s education because you want to buy her a second car.’

‘How dare you tell me how to spend my own money?’ Dad shouted.

At this point my mum slammed my door, muffling their argument. Their voices still came through, words unintelligible but loud.

Every other day my parents stayed in the same place promised an evening of arguments and silent dinners. I should be used to it by now. Yet I still shook despite myself. My throat dried out and tightened, but I didn’t know why. They’d go over the same quarrel, the same points before deciding to never compromise, only to start it again another day. I should be used to it.

I blinked, refusing to cry. Just as my vision got cloudy, I spotted my volume of Blade Fables. With trembling hands, I grabbed it. The pages, now well-thumbed, captured me just as it had the first time. It was like a blanket, keeping me warm and safe. Soon, my parents' voices drifted away and all I heard were clashing swords.