"Cousin?" Kouno asked, his voice sounding distant to Hei's ears. "You didn't tell us you knew anyone competing in the Games!"
"I didn't know." His throat had gone dry.
On the arena floor below, Jiang was pumping both fists in the air to the cheers of the Chinese fans. Even from this distance, Hei recognized that familiar, victorious grin.
"How - oh right, the whole, uh, contractor thing. Does your cousin not know you're in Tokyo either, then?"
"He thinks I'm dead," Hei said flatly. "My whole family does."
"Wow. Shit, that's intense, man…"
Kouno was asking another question, but Hei barely heard him. If Jiang was here, did that mean…
There was a short two-minute break between rounds; unable to so much as blink, he watched Jiang stride out of the ring to sit on a folding metal chair on one side of the judges' table while his opponent sat on the other side. His cousin took a swig from a water bottle as a man of middling height with a balding crown crouched down beside him, punctuating whatever he was saying with short, sharp gestures.
Uncle.
It had to be. Grandfather had overseen their training, but Uncle had been the one running each class. How many times, for how many years, had Uncle Hong stood in front of Hei and explained what he'd been doing wrong with those exact gestures? Hei could almost hear his voice, as if he was standing in front of him again. You have to breathe through your recoils, Tian, never lose connection with the energy that powers your movements…
Sweat beaded on his forehead. Jiang's presence in the parade of competitors explained that first ping of his instincts, but that hadn't been what had set his pulse racing. That had been something - someone - that he'd subconsciously noticed in the stands. Somewhere below him.
He didn't think a glimpse of Uncle would have set off such a sharp panic.
It's not possible. Even if Jiang made it this far, he would never approve…
Heart in his throat, Hei watched his uncle make his way back to his seat in the first row of the Chinese spectator section.
As Uncle sat, he turned to speak to the old man in the seat next to him. An old man with a bald, liver-spotted head, sitting up straight with his arms crossed. A dozen years later, and Hei still recognized that posture instantly.
He couldn't breathe.
Grandfather.
"Hey, Li, you okay?"
"I have to go," Hei said abruptly.
He grabbed his bag and fled towards the aisle, heedless of the complaints as he pushed his way down the row. In the distance he heard the referee's whistle starting the second round, but refused to turn his head and watch.
It was all he could do not to sprint up the stairs and out of the arena. But his brain had already switched into survival autopilot, and years of training overruled his emotion. Running would attract attention; attention was dangerous. Instead, he let his body carry him to safety while his mind went into overdrive.
How? The question was caught in an endless loop, repeated over and over again in a hundred different iterations. How can they be here in Tokyo, of all places?
"Li, what -"
Hei didn't stop to acknowledge the detective heading down the stairs with his arms full of food. The doors to the main concourse were just ahead. Fifteen steps away. Ten.
Grandfather hates the Games, how could he let Jiang compete?
The arena doors swung shut behind him, closing off the sounds of the audiences' cheers and the announcer's commentary.
He still didn't stop, though in the relative quiet of the row of concession stands he felt his breathing ease a bit. But only a bit. There was more open space here, with high ceilings and metal framework towering over the wide concourse. A sniper's playground.
Scanning the periphery for anything and everything, though in his rational mind he knew there wasn't a threat, Hei made his way quickly but calmly towards one of the access points that he'd automatically noted on his arrival at the stadium.
Why are the Games in Tokyo this year? Eight different countries - why here?
After ten yards he reached a set of double doors labeled 'Employees Only'. There was no keypad or badge access. He pushed them open.
Walk straight down the middle like you know where you're going, his training told him. If someone makes eye contact, just smile and nod.
He passed a few stadium employees pushing cartloads of soda or carrying stacks of linen. Each one wore a red polo shirt with black pants. A couple glanced his way curiously, probably wondering at his lack of a polo; but he smiled, and nodded, and they continued on their way without a word.
On the left was a marked stairwell. Hei ducked inside. With no one to observe him here, he took the stairs three at a time, heading for the ground floor. If only he'd had his rappelling gear he could have dropped straight to the bottom.
Why why why did they have to come here?
Chilly evening air stung the sweat on his skin as he pushed through the door at the base of the stairs. Breathing deeply, he took stock of where he was.
Behind the stadium; thirty yards from a loading dock. Empty crates from previous deliveries waiting to be picked up again were stacked next to the door. Leaning up against them were four uniformed employees. One woman, three men.
The woman raised an eyebrow at his sudden appearance. "You lost?"
Hei noted the cigarette between her fingers, and smiled sheepishly. "Just came out for a quick smoke." He dug in his pockets. "Don't know where I left my pack, though. Can I bum one?"
His heart rate decreased an incremental amount when she shrugged and pulled a half-squashed pack out of her back pocket. She handed him a cigarette and lighter.
"Thanks."
The taste of cigarettes always made him want to gag, but he'd had to do this too many times before to let it affect him now. He lit up and tossed the lighter back to the woman, then casually stepped two paces away and leaned against the wall. Just a sports fan getting a quiet nicotine fix.
After two long minutes during which he faked a few puffs, the stadium employees finished their own cigarettes and headed back inside. Exhaling a heavy breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding, Hei slid down the wall to rest on his heels behind the crates. The cigarette dangled loosely in his fingers, the burning end trembling. He forced himself to breathe, in and out, focused on steadying that little speck of light.
You're fine, he told himself. No one is after you. No one knows you're here. Saitou and Kouno are inside. Misaki is safe in Osaka. You're fine.
He watched the cigarette. It was still trembling, belying his racing pulse.
A draft shifted the acrid smoke back towards him. Shit, he realized suddenly, and stubbed the cigarette out on the concrete. He did not want to have to explain to Misaki why his shirt smelled like cigarette smoke.
The thought of her sent a longing lancing through his heart. God but he wished she was here right now, instead of hours away at the retreat.
With a long sigh, he gazed up at the fake stars that were just glimmering into view as the sun dipped below the horizon. His was up there, somewhere. Xing's.
He'd never learned which one it was. During Heaven's War, he hadn't wanted to read his sister's death in the sky. After, he'd been too afraid to see it fall - and somehow still be standing himself.
"Hei? What's wrong?"
It wasn't until he heard Misaki's voice in his ear that he realized he'd even taken out his phone, let alone dialed.
"Hi," he said wearily. "Nothing's wrong, sorry. I didn't mean to call."
"Don't bullshit me!" Misaki snapped. "You don't call on purpose, let alone on accident - what's going on?"
Despite her words, there was nothing but worry in her tone and Hei felt a rush of guilt. "It can wait; you must be in a meeting. I'm fine, really."
"I was, yes, but I stepped out." She took an audible breath. "Where are you?"
"At the stadium. Outside."
"Okay. Are Saitou and Kouno there?"
"They're inside. Watching the matches. I - I had to leave." Because they're inside too. A few hundred feet - and twelve years - was all that was between Hei and his past.
He wasn't ready.
"Hei, just tell me what it is," Misaki said softly. "Please."
He squeezed his eyes shut. "My cousin's competing," he said at last. "Uncle and - and Grandfather are here too. I saw them."
"Oh. Oh, wow. Hei… Are you okay?"
"I'm - I'm dealing with it." He pressed two fingers to his neck. His pulse had lowered a bit since he'd started talking with Misaki, but that edge of panic was still hovering close. "I just needed to get some air."
"Okay. Good. Are you…going to go see them?"
He tilted his head back against the hard concrete wall. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I don't know. I can't - I can't think right now."
"It's okay," Misaki told him gently. "You don't have to think about it tonight. If they're here for the competition, then they'll be here for a few days, right? You can decide later."
That was true. His anxiety eased a tiny bit. "Yeah."
"Do you want me to come home? There might be a late flight I can -"
"No," Hei interrupted, though his heart was begging her to come home now. She shouldn't have to drop her responsibilities just because he couldn't manage his own emotions. "You don't need to. I'll be fine. Like I said, I just needed some air."
"Okay," Misaki said, though she didn't sound convinced. "Have you talked to Haruko?"
"No. Not yet."
"I think you should give her a call. I'm sure she can help you work through this better than I can." Muffled voices sounded in the background, and Misaki gave a frustrated sigh. "I need to get back inside. Are you sure you don't want me to -"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm sorry for interrupting your -"
"Stop. You didn't interrupt anything. Promise me you'll talk to Haruko? Tonight?"
"Yeah. I promise." He suppressed a sigh, not ready to lose the sound of her voice. "I love you."
"I love you too. Hei - you'll be okay. I'll see you in a couple days. Call you later, okay?"
He ended the call, gazing at the phone in his hand for a long moment. Missing her, and wanting to avoid thinking about the choices that he was going to have to make all too soon.
Then - because he'd promised - he sent a quick text to his therapist to see if she was free to talk.
She'd given him her cell number months ago, in case he ever needed someone to talk things through with in between their weekly sessions. So far he'd only taken advantage of that once - after Misaki had said yes, and he hadn't been able to wait until their next session to share the good news. He'd neglected to mention the exact circumstances surrounding his proposal, though; when he'd shown up in her office with his head and hands bandaged he'd had some explaining to do.
He was beginning to think that he might exasperate his therapist. Just a little bit.
But true to her word as always, she called him right back.
"It's certainly unexpected," Haruko said thoughtfully after he'd made it through an explanation. "How does this change what we've been talking about for the past couple of months?"
"Change? It changes everything, doesn't it? They're here. Grandfather -"
"Hei, you've always known where your family was. You still know their address, you remember their phone number. The choice to reach out to them has always been yours, right?"
"Yeah, I guess; but…"
"So what does their being here in Tokyo, now, change?"
Haruko's questions always had a way of forcing him to look at angles he'd never considered before. Hei rested his forehead in his hand and thought. "I guess…they still don't know that I'm alive. Or that I'm here. I can go talk to them, but…I don't have to. I can still wait until I feel ready. So, that's the same as it's always been."
"Good. What else?"
He could picture the warm, encouraging smile that Haruko always gave him when he was on the right track towards whatever realization she was trying to guide him to. What else?
"Grandfather," he said after a long moment. "I was - I was worried that he'd passed away, and I'd never get the chance to talk to him again. Now I know. I haven't missed it."
It felt as if a huge weight had lifted from his chest, and he could breathe a little easier. That had only been one of his fears, though. "I still don't know how talk to him. What to say. How do I even start? What do I tell him about my sister?"
The visualization exercise that Haruko had asked him to do - imagining picking up the phone and calling home - was still difficult. Thinking about it in the abstract wasn't too bad anymore, but when it came down to the actual words and how Grandfather would react, he was at a total loss.
"You start with hello," Haruko told him, not for the first time. "And remember, it's your choice what to say about your past. It's okay to set your own boundaries, to say I don't want to talk about that right now."
"But they'll want to know."
"Yes, they probably will. That's okay too. It's going to be a process, for everyone. Whether you go talk to your grandfather tonight or in five years, you can't expect everything to just fall into place without putting in some work.
"You've changed in the past twelve years - of course you have. But remember, they went through a traumatic event too. Something like that changes people; it can change whole family dynamics. Your grandfather lost his daughter and son-in-law, and his granddaughter. And he lost you. Things haven't been normal for them either."
Hei knew that, of course, but he'd never really thought about it before. In his head everything back in Xi'an was exactly the way it had been before he'd left, just with a hole where his immediate family had been.
"Check in with me - what are you thinking right now?"
He ran a hand through his hair again. "I think…that makes sense. I've been so afraid of how they'll react if they find out the truth about me that I didn't really think how things might have changed for them too. I just - it's still so hard to think about. But…talking in person might be easier than on the phone."
He'd never liked using phones anyway - you couldn't read the other person's body language, you never knew if they had someone else listening in over their shoulder; there were too many unknowns for Hei to ever really feel comfortable. He always felt more in charge of the conversation - and the situation - in person.
"And," he continued hesitantly, "how much will I regret it if let him leave without telling him that I'm here?" And that I miss him…and I'm sorry.
The thought still sent a spike of panic through his blood; he inhaled deeply, trying to regain his calm.
"Let's reframe the situation," Haruko said suddenly. "If you wanted to, say, rob a bank - how would you go about doing it?"
"A bank?" Hei blinked at the strange shift in topic. "I mean, it would depend on the bank, and how much time I had to plan…"
"Say you have exactly the amount of time that you need. Step by step, how would you do it?"
He took a moment to glance around the area. He hadn't heard anyone in the vicinity, but the last thing he wanted was to be overheard planning a bank heist on the phone; even a hypothetical one. It was all clear, yet he lowered his voice anyway.
"First I would gather as much information as I could without setting foot in the bank. Specs on the vault, what kind of security is in place, who the managers are. Then I'd spend a few days watching the employees' daily routines from a position outside. Once I got a feel for what the busy and slow hours are like, I'd visit once or twice to get a feel for the layout and pick up on any important details I'd missed; with all that I could make a plan. Once I have a plan, all I have to do is follow it."
"What if, during one of your observations, a security guard sees you and gets suspicious?"
"I play it off," he answered, wondering where she was going with this. "Wait an extra day or two and come back under a different alias, or when a different guard is on duty."
"What if you finish your plan and are ready to do the job, but something goes wrong at the last minute?"
"It depends on what goes wrong. I'll have planned for as much contingency as possible, so that I can adjust on the fly as necessary."
"If you can't adjust?"
Hei shrugged. "Abort the mission."
He could almost see Haruko tapping her pen on her yellow legal pad. "And at some point during your planning, you identify a time when you have to be completely committed - where it's too late to abort?"
"The point of no return. Yeah." Just about every mission had a moment where he would need to take a moment to pause and make that go/no-go decision; where either you went all in or you pulled the plug and watched all your careful planning go straight down the drain. But abandoning the mission was better than the alternative.
"So. What's your plan here? Break it down for me."
He paused. If it was a bank job… "First, I'd find out where they're staying. It must be a hotel nearby; maybe the one across the pedestrian bridge. It shouldn't be too hard to get a room number. Once I have that, I could call from the hotel lobby. I wouldn't have to tell them I was here."
His mind started clicking, automatically running through a list of possible contingency plans. "Or maybe I could talk to Jiang first. He - he might be angry with me for leaving, but I don't think he'll be disappointed in me. Not like Grandfather might be. And he can tell me if anyone else is here, so I'm prepared." He hadn't seen Grandmother, Aunt, or Jiao-tu in the stands, but that didn't mean they hadn't come to Tokyo as well. The thought of facing everyone all at once… "Yeah, maybe Jiang first. Then I can decide what to do from there."
"That sounds like a reasonable plan. There are plenty of places where you can abort the mission before you commit, if it starts to feel too overwhelming."
"But I still don't know what to say. What -"
"Hei," Haruko interrupted gently, "Remember how long you spent planning on how to propose to Misaki - when to do it, and what to say?"
"Yeah." That topic had dominated their sessions for a full month.
"And what happened?"
He smiled in spite of himself. "That right moment came when I wasn't expecting it."
"You adjusted on the fly, you mean. Did you have a perfect speech ready?"
"No. Actually, she didn't even let me finish before she said yes."
"You see? Words are less important than you think. Once you get past your fear of meeting your family again, you'll figure out what to say."
He rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "And if I don't? If they want nothing to do with me anymore?"
"You tell me."
Hei forced himself to think long and hard before answering. "I still have Misaki," he said at last. "She loves me even though she knows everything that I've done. And my friends at work accept me too. Whatever happens I still have the life that I'm building here."
"Yes," Haruko said. "And you'll have opened the door for future dialogue. This isn't a do or die situation, is it? Maybe now isn't the right time for you or your family, but maybe next month is. Or next year. You'll never know until you take this first step - and it's completely your choice when you take that step."
That was what Misaki kept telling him. And Haruko was right; if the mission failed, he could always try again, from a new approach. It didn't have to a flawless plan that succeeded on the first attempt. He could do this.
"Hei? How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," he said. "The panic's gone, now." It was, he realized. Heart rate normal, no more cold sweats or trembling in his fingers.
"I'm glad to hear it," Haruko said, the relief clear in her voice. "What are you going to do after we hang up?"
"Go back inside and watch the rest of the competitions." He took a deep breath. "Then I'll figure out how to go talk to Jiang."