Page 67 of The Gods Will Sing Our Song

“Well enough,” I say.

“Then you know these violations have happened before. Think about slavery in the Southern states. Think about President Jackson’s Indian Removal Act. Human nature is always itself, isn’t it?” She stops and glances at her wristwatch. “Anyways, it’s about time for dinner. Perhaps you’ll take your sketches to the press before supper?”

I nod. She pauses and then suddenly adds, “Always ask questions, Violet. Ask them of everyone. It’s a good thing to do.”

I stop by the warehouse before going to the newspaper office. Ren and Kai are just getting off. Sadness grips me when I see Ren; I haven’t seen him since we sat together on the stairs. His clothes are wrinkled, and new bluish-purple shadows form half circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in decades.

He notices me and for a moment he pauses, blinking furiously, as though he isn’t certain whether he’s awake.

“You look terrible,” I say gently. One thing I know about Ren Hamada is that he loathes pity.

“You look beautiful,” he responds without any guise at all, as though he’s too worn down to filter his speech. I’m not expecting it. He’s always so quick-tongued, but this rawness is new.

I can’t help it; I thrust the drawings at Kai and wrap my arms around Ren’s neck, resting my head against his chest. I feel him catch his breath and he hesitates. I think he might pull back, but then, as though nothing on earth could stop him, his arms enfold me, and he grips me tighter than he ever has before. I’m crushed against him, but I don’t care. If I could, I would hold him forever, just like this.

“Hey,” Kai interjects. I pull back from Ren and we both look at him. Forcefully, he holds up one of the drawings. “What’s this?”

“It’s an advertisement for a town hall.” I grab for the stack, but he pulls it out of my reach, inspecting it. I know Kai and his friends loathe the community councils, but I also don’t think Kai understands. I think about Mr. Nomura running the meetings while delicately working around Mr. Boser, and about Mrs. Hata saying wrong things can be made right. Everyone is trying, and there are more ways than one to do so.

“You support them?” Kai demands. His eyes flash in a dark, sleek luster. His hand tightens around the drawing, wrinkling it.

“It’s none of your business,” I snap. “Give it back to me.”

“Did you know this?” Kai turns to Ren. “She’s a traitor—”

He doesn’t get to finish the insult, because Ren pushes him against the side of the warehouse, his arm bent at the elbow and his forearm lengthwise across Kai’s neck. I’ve seen Ren in violent situations before, but I’ve never seen him respond with aggression of his own. He’s always just taken it. But now he’s shockingly swift, a coiled spring finally releasing.

“Don’t” is all he says to Kai, but the single word rings with emotion, falling between rage and something close to despair.

“What the hell, man!” Kai shakes free. Ren lets him.

They face each other. Kai’s eyes are full of spite and confusion, but Ren just stares at him. Then Ren says, “Give me Violet’s drawings.”

Kai looks down at the sheaf of sketches. He grips them so tightly that his hand shakes. I think he might tear them in half. Then, abruptly, he thrusts them at Ren, shoving them hard against his chest. “The council supports the administration. And the administration let Emi die, Ren. Remember that.”

I gasp. Ren’s face drains white. I think he might kill Kai. Or at the very least strike him.

Kai’s face is white, too. He breathes hard while Ren is so deadly still, you’d think he was a statue. The drawings flutter like white leaves to the dirt.

“Get out of here.” Ren speaks so low it’s practically a growl.

Kai wavers. Then he pushes by Ren and me, cutting briskly into the camp. Wordlessly, Ren bends down and gathers my sketches. He offers them to me. I take them but catch his hand with my other one. Tremors run up and down his arm and into his fingers. He shakes his head once, twice, and stares down at the dirt.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and I am. The last thing I want to do is drive them apart. Frustration comes over me. Kai and I want the same thing. We want to go home, and if that isn’t possible right now, we want our families to be safe until we can. But somehow we’ve found ourselves staring each other down from opposite sides.

“For what?” Ren’s tired stare shifts onto me.

“Kai is your friend. I’d never want you to fight on account of me.”

“Kai is an idiot,” he says.

“Emotions are running high.” I tighten my grip on his hand. “Don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’s upset with everything that’s happened.”

“Naw, he shouldn’t give you a hard time,” Ren replies. Wearily, he rubs his free hand over his face, brow so furrowed that he almost looks like he’s in pain.

“If he ever does, you know I’ll give him one back.” I try to sound lighthearted, anything to ease Ren’s tension. It works. He smiles, just the tiniest bit.

“He wouldn’t stand a chance against Manzanar’s featherweight champion.”