Kenji the Gin Jinn (A)

"Done," Kenji mutters.

"What's done?" I ask as I check my watch for the tenth time.

"Eh. Is she ready? Did you explain the rules to her?"

I drop my wrist and look over to Rin. She is still standing where she's been standing for the last forty minutes. I understand this is a strange situation, and I'm asking her the hardest question I can imagine, but I think I've hit the end of my patience.

Kenji eyes the bottle of liquor with want and disdain before taking another drink. I think Rin is running out of time, here. That bottle is not going to last much longer, especially since Kenji seems disturbed by something. If Rin doesn't make up her mind tonight, I don't know if I can bring her up here again.

Getting her to follow me was surprisingly easy, all things considered. I knew Rin is an oddball, but I never expected her to be so... trusting. We've known each other for a while, but the extent of our interactions has been the art club (still not sure why I joined) and the odd job helping her with paint buckets. Occasionally, I go to lunch with her and her friends Fuku, Kurosawa, and Time W—Wakahisa. When she asked me for help with a can of juice from a vending machine, I felt uneasy.

When she inevitably asked me why we were going to the roof at midnight, I stopped misleading her. In comparison to Rin's attempt to explain a painting to me, the idea that my antisocial, neurotic hallmate is actually the physical prison of a millennia-old wish granting being from myth seemed like the simplest thing to say. The alcohol is what confused her.

I check my watch again, pressing the button that shines blue light out of its face, and Kenji coughs into his hand.

"Look, dude," Kenji says, "Hisao here is trying to do you a favor, but I can't help you if you don't help me."

This catches Rin's attention, but all she does is look from Kenji to me.

"I get it," he continues, "knowing what you want is hard. I mean, for some people, it's hard. For others, it's easy, like that running chick."

Does he mean Miki? I haven't told Miki about this. Kenji looks sad, for some reason. He hiccups and coughs into his hand again, then takes another big gulp from the bottle now almost empty. "Still, not... Ahem." He rubs his throat. "Can't finish that sentence."

Rin is still staring at me, I think. Usually, her eyes are darting from one thing to another, but I can't see well enough in the moonlight to make out exactly what they're doing. She shifts her weight from one sandaled foot to the other.

"Rin, are you okay?"

"I dunno." She shrugs. "Do I not seem okay?"

I honestly don't know how to answer that. The moonlight shining from behind her is just enough to see, but not enough to see her face. Rin's eyes, those big, green eyes that swallow the light, are only black circles in the shadow of her tussled hair. Just before the anxiety makes me look away, Rin turns to Kenji.

"What can I have?"

"Anything. Anything at all, within... Well, I hope Hisao told you the rules. Have you decided?"

"Maybe."

"Look, let me give you some h... Ahem." He takes another drink. "Let me make this a little easier. It doesn't have to be specific. It can be that way, if you want, but I'm not one of those jokester djinns who finds a loophole for everything and makes you immortal Hitler or something. TV never gets it right." Another drink. "If you want p.. Ahem. If you want something, just tell me you want it. You can have it. You can have anything."

Kenji's eagerness shows as he grins from ear to ear in anticipation of whatever request Rin could make.

"What about Hisao?" she says.

What about me?

"What about him?"

Rin is silent again for almost a minute before she speaks.

"Did he get his wish?"

When I can't bring myself answer her, Kenji does.

"Yeah, he got one," he says with... sadness?

"So he knew?"

He drops his head. I feel my face flush.

"Can't tell you that, dude. Ask him."

I look back to Rin's silhouette, who stares at me again. I can only hope the moonlight hides my face as well as it hides Rin's.

The sound of rattling chainlink makes me jump. I didn't see what happened, but Kenji is posing like he threw the first pitch at a baseball game. He stumbles, then rights himself with a burp, putting one hand in his pocket and the other over his scarf.

Whatever regret I was just feeling fuels a rush of anxiety and anger.

"Rin, I don't mean to push you, but we're running out of time."

When I turn to face her, she's looking down and playing with the gravel with her toes.

"Hisao, do you know why I like green?"

What the hell kind of question is that? I don't even have the patience to consider what's happening, and Rin doesn't seem to understand how poorly Kenji can handle his own liquor.

"No, I don't."

"Would..." She shrugs in her hesitation. "Would you want to?"

Both of my hands fly to my face as my heart starts to race. This may have been a huge mistake. Not only will Rin not get her wish, but there is now a very real chance she might mention all of this to someone else. It's silly to think that anyone would believe any of it, especially since Kenji himself seems like a walking joke when sober, but...

My heart slams in my chest. Even if I never have to worry about my heart again, I still have to deal with all of the things that come with having one.

"Rin, please... You told me you knew what you wanted."

"That was yesterday."

"Well, what changed?"

She shrugs. What does that mean? What does anything she says mean? If she wants me to know about green, she should just tell me! I would listen! I would listen all day long, if that's what it took. I've spent days with Rin before, lazy days just hanging out, but it feels like our friendship gets closer while our heads grow farther and farther apart.

"Uuughgh..." Kenji moans as he sways back and forth as if the wind wasn't utterly static right now. It's now or never. I let out all of my breath like a stabbed beach ball as all of my effort and my hopes at salvation deflate.

"God, I wish I could understand you, Rin."

"I wish Hisao could understand."

...What?

Kenji staggers.

"Is... ugh—" He holds back a lurch. "Is that your final answer?" he rasps.

I look hard at Rin, shaking my head, but she stares straight at the fading presence that will follow her absurd command.

"No," I tell her, "no, no, no, Rin—"

"Yes."

An awful gurgle sounds from the pit of Kenji's guts.

"Done—" he gasps as he turns and runs for the other end of the rooftop.

He sprints the length of the roof and slams against the fence before his figure drops to its knees.

I look back to Rin, but she's gone. Someone else is standing there. The fright makes me jump, and pain surges through my chest before I catch my breath. I can't see who it is with the moon behind her. The slender figure shifts her weight from one leg to the other, and her sleeves dangle emptily at her sides. The strangest sensation tingles at my arms.

I raise my hands slowly between us and push the button on my watch. Azure light shines on the girl's face, and her eyes swallow the light, defining sable circles within the only other part of her body that has weight on it. This is Rin's face, but the girl doesn't resemble her at all.

"Hisao?" Her voice is tiny and soft, like she can barely speak.

"Yes?" I say

"Are you okay?"

I don't know. Do I look okay?

She doesn't answer my question.

What's wrong? I ask.

She doesn't even shrug.

"Uh... Kenji," I manage before starting in his direction.

Rin follows me across the gravel in the direction Kenji, or the being within Kenji, sprinted. I find him sitting with his back against the fence, breathing heavily and wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

"Give," he says through his raspy throat, handing me another slip of paper like the previous midnight visits. I take it, and then he snuggles into his scarf. Within seconds, his raspy breaths meter out and he is still. I hold the paper to my watch; It's a note for his next batch of liquor. I slip it into my pocket for later.

"Is he dead?" Rin asks.

I try to think of a good way to put it. He's not dead if he's still breathing, unless you count brain dead as dead dead, but even then he's not that. I could kick him to make sure, but that wouldn't be nice, even if he was dead. Even dead people deserve some niceness. Sometimes they come back to haunt you if you're mean.

"No," I say.

For a minute, the only sound is the deep breaths of the ancient, wish granting being as its own liver pulls it back into the bottle that is the sober Kenji Setou. Tonight was a total failure. Actually, I suppose it's morning, now. That's how it works, right? After midnight, it's the next day. Or, today. Today becomes yesterday, yesterday becomes the day before, and tomorrow becomes today. We still call tomorrow tomorrow, though. You can never catch tomorrow; It's always one day ahead of you.

"Hisao?"

I look back at Rin. At this angle, I can see her expressionless face in the flowing silver moonlight. The longer I look, the more she doesn't look anything at all like I remember. She is the same height, the same width, her hair is still a mess, and her face is still round and blank.

She looks absolutely terrified.

It makes me think of the first time we met, when I stumbled into an almost-empty art room as the lonely girl ate her lunch. I scared her, a little bird that didn't know whether to watch for another second or fly away with beating wings. She watched, and saw that I was just another lonely bird. I lent her the use of my arms, but more than that, I gave her my time.

(...He spent the day with me, just standing next to that mural until the sun set and he said he had to leave. We didn't talk, but we didn't need to. All of the things I wanted to say to him would just dilute that day...)

My body shudders like I've been dropped. What the hell was that? Rin looks at me, waiting for me to say something because that's what I do. Even if it's not the right thing to say, at least it's something, and it always does something, even if it hurts sometimes. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

I shut my eyes, rubbing them and my cheeks with shaking hands. Deep breaths, Hisao. In, and out...

"Rin, what happened?"

She doesn't say anything. I wait for a couple minutes, but I don't hear an answer.

"What did you wish for?" I ask through my palms.

I remove my hands from my face and look at her. It's Rin, all right, but... She's changing in front of me. Every moment, she looks less like Rin and more like... like Rin.

I can't find the words. I want to say that the girl I see reminds me of someone I know, like a family member I've never met but heard enough about to be familiar with. It's like looking at a picture of a great great grandparent that you resemble. Looking at her feels odd and narcissistic, made even more so because she's wearing my uniform. Er, a uniform like mine. The same? No, that implies it is my uniform. Uniform? Yes, a uniform uniform. Why is this so hard?

Everything I think of just falls short of really, truly describing the weird sensations and bizarre thoughts I can't keep track of. None of them are good enough. As I look at the girl, watch her grow more and more anxious as her eyes swallow me whole, my heart turns to pure lead. She's waiting for me to say something, even if it's wrong, totally wrong.

I want to tell her I'm all right. I want to tell her not to worry. My mind slams against my skull trying to force my mouth to move, but Rin's expectations strangle me.

I give up. Nothing is working.

"Hisao, I can't see you. The moon is in the way."

She leans toward me until we're almost touching.

I lean in and wrap her in the strongest hug I can muster with my shaky arms.

God, that feels good.

Rin inhales sharply and shifts her weight. Her knee forces itself between us with incredible strength, but her sandal catches on my belt. I tighten around her and she abandons the sandal.

I want to tell her it's okay.

For just a moment, I feel Rin's bare foot against my ribcage. A moment later, she shoves my pelvis with her heel. I can't keep hold. My head slams against a fencepole. Everything goes black as I fall onto a soft fabric mound of stinking alcohol. I feel the slightest twinge of happiness as the person I can't recall tells me I did the right thing.