Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
"That's terrifying."
"That's love too. They'd die for each other without hesitation. And they'd kill for each other even faster."
I sat with that for a moment. "What happens if they get separated in a battle?"
Hiro's expression darkened. "They don't.”
“Never?”
“Never. The one time someone tried to split them up in a fight. . .Aki thought Yuki was dead. He burned everything down trying to get to him. Three city blocks. Gone."
"And Yuki?"
"Walked out of the ashes carrying two severed heads." Hiro chuckled. "The men who'd tried to separate them."
My pencil hovered over the page, and then it came to me.
"I know exactly what their drinks need to be." I flipped to a fresh page. "This one's going to be different."
"How so?"
"It has to be two drinks that you enjoy at the same moment. One for each of them. But they have to go together somehow." I tapped my pencil against the paper.
“Interesting.”
"You know, I've always wanted to ask—how did you and the twins even meet?"
Hiro was quiet for a moment, and then he spoke, “There was a fire."
"A fire?"
"When they were eight. I was ten." His jaw tightened. "Their mother had passed out drunk. Lit cigarette fell. Their whole shitty apartment went up."
My chest constricted.
"I heard the screaming from outside. I was just a kid—didn't know what I was doing, didn't think about it. I just ran in." Hiro's hand moved unconsciously to his forearm—to a patch of skin I now realized was slightly darker than the rest.
It looked like a burn scar, old and faded.
Hiro continued, "I found Yuki trapped under a beam. Aki was trying to lift it off him, burning his hands, screaming for help. So, I helped him lift it. Dragged them both out."
"You saved them."
"I pulled them out of a burning building. That's all."
"That's everything, Hiro."
He shrugged, but I saw the emotion he was trying to hide. "Their mom survived too and they moved to another shitty apartment in the same neighborhood. But from that day on. . ." A ghost of a smile. "Those two followed me everywhere. Like little shadows. Wherever I went, they went. Whatever I did, they watched. It was annoying at first, and then I just. . ."
“What?”
“I couldn’t live without them.”
I looked down at the blank page and thought. "Fire and ash."
"What?"
"That's what the drinks should be called. Fire and Ash." I started sketching two glasses side by side—mirror images of each other. "One drink is warm. Amber. Like fire. The other is cool. Grey. Like ash."
"Two halves. . ."
"Exactly. And here's the thing—" I looked up at him, excited now. "You can't drink them separately. You have to mix them together first. Pour them into one glass, combine them, and then drink."
"Because one without the other is incomplete."
"Yes!" I grabbed an amber pencil and started coloring the first glass. "After they mix the drinks together, they light it on fire and watch it burn."
Hiro was staring at me. "Nyomi."
"What?"
“This will be dangerous.”
“Why?”
"They're going to cry."
"Good crying or bad crying?"
"The best kind."
“I’m just glad that they’ll love it.” I finished coloring the first glass and moved to the second making sure I added cool grey, silver tones. "What do they like to drink?"
"Whiskey for Aki. Vodka for Yuki."
"Perfect. So the fire drink is whiskey-based—cinnamon, orange bitters, flamed orange peel. Warm and spicy." I wrote it down. "And the ash drink is vodka-based—activated charcoal for the grey color, elderflower for softness."
"And they mix them together."
"And set it on fire." I finished the sketch—two glasses, mirror images, a line of fire connecting them where they would be poured together.
“Fire and Ash.”
“Yep. That’s the name.” I winked. “We’re done.”
He frowned. “No. We’re not.”
“Yes. We are.”
“What about the most important Claw?”
“Who the fuck is that?” I started to close the sketchpad, but Hiro's hand stopped me.
“Me. I’m the most important Claw.”
“Hiro. Really?” I flipped to the front and showed him the page. “You really think I wouldn’t know what to do for you? It’s so obvious, and yes. . .you’re so important, I sketched yours first.”
He looked down and parted his lips.
On the page was a sketch I'd done earlier that morning—a tall glass with red liquid, a white swirl through the center, and a lollipop balanced on the rim.
At the top, in careful letters, it read, “The Lollipop.”
Hiro stared at it. Then slowly, a smile spread across his face. "You know me well."
“I do.” I watched his face as he took in the sketch. "Why do you like lollipops so much anyway? I've always wondered."
He shrugged, but I saw the memory surface behind his eyes. "I've always been kind of addicted to sugar. It soothes me."
“That’s not all.”
"From a very young age. . .anytime something horrible happened, my mom would just hand me a lollipop. As if it would all be okay after that."
My heart clenched.