"Someone wants to talk,"Sakura sniffed. Her tough-girl mask had slipped during the blizzard, but now itreturned.
Kara pushed aside her sourfeelings toward the girls and left the path, trudging through the snow to jointhem. Miho and Sakura followed and the five of them faced one another beneaththe tall windows of the dormitory.
"You saw something,"Kara said, fixing Wakana with a hard look.
Wakana flinched, frowning."How did you know? Did you see him too?"
Kara glanced at Mai, whosearrogance had completely vanished. She looked frightened, just as she had whenthey had all faced the Hannya together, and that was good. They might not befriends, but in sharing the secrets they did, they had become allies, and Maitended to be far more ordinary and human when something had scared her.
"Him?" Miho replied."You mean Sora?"
Mai frowned. "Sora? No. She. ." and then she let the words trail off, glancing at her roommate."They didn't see it."
"'It' or 'him?'"Sakura asked. "Make up your mind."
"See what?" Karaprodded, her frustration growing. She wanted to be inside, to put on warm, dryclothes, to find out what had become of Hachiro and Ren. "If you'retalking about ghosts — "
"You did see him!" Wakana said.
Sakura and Miho started talkingat the same time, still trying to make sense of what Wakana was telling them. Maihad just said they hadn't seen Sora, and if they had encountered his ghost,their reaction would have been entirely different. So if not Sora. .
"Jiro?" she asked,thinking again of Hachiro's experience on the train.
"Are you just being cruel?" Mai snapped.
Wakana seemed to wonder the samething. She wore a hurt expression as she replied. "Not Jiro. Daisuke. Isaw Daisuke."
Kara stared around at theothers, mind whirling. Jiro, Daisuke, and then Sora. The ghosts of dead boys.
"What the hell is going onaround here?" she asked.
But nobody had an answer.
Kara followed Miho and Sakurainto their dorm room, grateful to be alone with her friends. Mai and Wakanamight be linked to them because of the unnatural events that had unfolded atMonju-no-Chie School over the past few seasons, but none of them were willingto pretend that their connection to each other was anything like friendship. Karahad no interest in joining forces with them to try to figure out what was goingon, and she knew the feeling was mutual.
When she and Miho and Sakurareached the dorm, the foyer had been full of students who were awaiting pickupby their parents, most of them discussing the missing boys. Those who knew Karaand Hachiro were dating had fallen silent and watched her curiously as shepassed, as though they expected her to break down or something. She hadexpected the stairs and corridors to be quieter, with most of the boardingstudents resting or getting warm, but instead they had walked through agauntlet similar to what they had faced downstairs. They were all buzzing withnervous energy and needed to talk.
When Miho closed the door,shutting the rest of the world out, Kara let out a long sigh. She knew that sheand her friends needed to talk, but she had no interest in discussing the day — or the fate of Hachiro and the other boys — with the girls talking behindtheir hands in the common area down the hall.
Once they'd all hung their jackets,Sakura stepped out of her sodden boots and stripped off her pants. Her legswere pale and dappled with white and red splotches and she rubbed themvigorously before peeling off the rest of her clothes. In seconds she stood inonly her underpants, entirely unself-conscious about her body.
"I am going directly topajamas," she said.
"What about dinner?" Miho asked, trying not to look at her.
"I can have dinner in mypajamas."
Miho gave the tiniest shake ofher head to show that she didn't approve. Sakura ignored her, pulling on along-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms covered with some kind ofschool symbol that Kara thought came from one of the manga that Sakura loved toread. She tugged a sweatshirt on over that comfortable ensemble and then turnedto Kara.
"What do you want to wear?"
"Anything soft and dry."
Sakura started tossing clothesat her — t-shirt, sweatshirt, pajama pants — and she laughed as shesnatched them out of the air. It was good to laugh, but immediately she feltguilty, knowing the guys were still out there on the mountain.
"Pajamas," Sakurasaid, arching an eyebrow at her roommate.
Miho rolled her eyes and turnedaway from them. She had been working on her shyness for months, but some thingsshe could not change. Modest to a fault, she kept her back turned as shedisrobed and quickly pulled on dark green pants and a beige sweater. Her hairhad been made wild by the storm but she brushed it out and put a clip into it.
"You look ready to go on adate," Sakura said.
"And we look ready for anap," Kara added, as she tugged on the borrowed pajama pants.
Sakura flopped onto her bed."I would love a nap, almost as much as I would a cigarette."
The dorm rooms were all small. Twobeds, tatami mats, two tiny desks, a small futon, built in closets and amirror. Kara folded up her cold, damp clothes and put them in a pile underSakura's desk and then settled onto the futon.
Miho slid into the chair at herdesk. "So, are we going to talk about this?"
Sakura lay on her side, legspulled up beneath her. "Nap first, talk later?"
Kara frowned at her. "Sakura,how can you joke? They're still up there! Sora is — "
"You don't know that."
Miho crossed her arms, almosthugging herself. "What else are we supposed to think? Hachiro saw Jiro'sghost, Wakana saw Daisuke, and on the mountain, Kara and I both saw. . wesaw him, but he wasn't there."
A knock came at the door andthey all looked up, but for several seconds, no one made a move to answer it. Whenthe visitor knocked again and they heard a girl call "hello" from theother side of the door, Miho rose and opened it to find Reiko, from thecalligraphy club, standing in the hall.
"What's wrong?" Mihoasked.
"Nothing," Reiko said."Miss Kaneda asked me to let all of the third floor residents know thatdinner is going to be served an hour early tonight. They want to get somethinghot into us, she said."
Kara had thought she wouldn't behungry at all — a cup of tea to warm her, perhaps — but at theprospect of imminent dinner her stomach started to growl.
"Excellent," Mihoreplied. "I'm sure a meal will do us all good."
"Thank you," Karasaid.
"Some people are alreadydownstairs," Reiko added. "I'll see you all down there."
When she left, Miho closed thedoor and leaned against it, looking at Kara and Sakura. "Don't think we'rehurrying down to the cafeteria. We need to talk about this."
"I agree," Kara said.
Sakura had not moved from herfetal position on the bed. She lay there with her eyes open, but did not lookat them when she spoke.
"What are we supposed totalk about?" she asked. "Okay, there are ghosts in Miyazu City. Maybeit has something to do with Kyuketsuki's curse and maybe it doesn't. How doesthat help the boys?"
A note of despair filled Sakura'swords. Emotion she had been holding back spilled forth and she sat up, lookingfrom Miho to Kara and back again, eyes pleading. "How do we help them?"
There came yet another knock onthe door.
Sakura glared at it. "Goaway!"
"Sakura? Miho? It's MissAritomo. Is Kara there with you?"
All three girls froze. Kara feltall of the blood draining from her face and the winter chill that she thoughtshe had dispelled returned. Her pulse quickened and she jumped up from thefuton and went to open the door.
One look in Miss Aritomo's eyesand she knew that the teacher brought only pain.
"Yuuka?" Karawhispered.
Miss Aritomo glanced over hershoulder and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Then she facedthe girls.
"The search has been calledoff until morning," Miss Aritomo said. "It is too dark in the woods,now. If the boys are not conscious, the searchers could walk right by them andnot know. At first light, they will begin again, with as many as four hundredpeople combing the mountain for any sign of Hachiro and Ren."
Kara noticed immediately whatthe woman had
not
said.
"And Sora?"
Miss Aritomo lowered her gaze amoment, then looked back up at them, eyes damp. "They found Sora a shorttime ago. It seems he wandered off the path and deeper into the woods duringthe height of the storm."
"He's dead," Mihosaid.
It was not a question, but MissAritomo nodded to confirm it.
"He froze to death thatquickly?" Kara asked, grief and confusion whirling inside of her. "Howcan that happen?"
"That is the question weare all asking," Miss Aritomo said. "And it's why I have come tospeak with you three, though the rest of the students will not learn the newsuntil morning. There will be no school tomorrow. Most of the teachers will beout helping with the search. But Mr. Yamato wishes to speak with you threefirst thing in the morning."
Kara glanced at her friends andthen nodded. "Of course."
"He will visit your house,Kara, to be sure that our conversation is private," Miss Aritomo said."Miho? Sakura? You are to be at the Harpers' home by nine o'clock. We willspeak of curses and of ghosts, and if this is connected to the troubles we allhad last year, we will find a way to stop it before anyone else dies."
Kara had a great deal of respectfor Yuuka, and she had grown very fond of the woman.
She only wished she couldbelieve her.
S
akura lay in bed, tryingdesperately to fall back to sleep. After dinner, with Kara gone, she and Mihohad come back to their room and tried to read a while. Miho was about a hundredpages into the fattest novel she had ever seen, while Sakura had sought comfortin her favorite manga series,
Cherry Blossoms
. Both of them had fallenasleep reading, emotionally and physically drained, but Sakura had woken justafter one o'clock and had spent the better part of the last hour attempting todrift off again.
No such luck.
Frustrated, she turned over forwhat felt like the hundredth time, facing the windows. The night had anuncommon brightness, moonlight reflecting off of snow to create its ownillumination. Once upon a time she would have thought it magical, beautiful,but the experiences of the past year had changed her. Now what others mighthave seen as beauty struck her as eerie and unsettling. It seemed like theperfect weather for ghosts.
Sakura closed her eyes and letout a long breath, steadying herself. Her eyes burned and her head felt as ifit were stuffed with cotton; she needed to sleep. But her brain was notcooperating, her thoughts racing ahead, not prepared to shut down againtonight.
Had her friends really seenghosts? Whatever Hachiro had seen on the train, had it really been Jiro, orjust some phantom image of him left in the world like the lights she saw behindher eyes after a camera flashed. Kara and Miho — even Wakana — hadseen ghosts, too, and somehow Sakura felt cheated. But mostly she just wantedto know if they were truly the spirits of the dead, or just some. . echo.. of the time those people had spent in the world.
What were ghosts, really?
Sakura sighed and turned over,turning her back to the windows and burrowing deeper under her covers. Everysound seemed louder in the dark, even Miho's soft breathing. She could hearelectricity humming in the walls and the steady ticking noise of the heatingpipes in the old building. Instead of trying to shut the sounds out shewelcomed them, attempted to make them her lullaby.
Slowly, her awareness began toblur, all of the edges of the world growing soft. Sleep coalesced around herand as Sakura began to doze at last, she felt grateful for its gift.
But then she felt a burst ofwarmth against the back of her neck, her skin prickling as she stiffened. Hereyelids were heavy with sleep, now, but she forced them open. Something hadshifted in the room, the air itself changing and gaining a strange weight. Shefelt sure, suddenly, that someone was watching her, could feel the focus ofattention upon her like added gravity.
She listened intently, thinkingthat Miho had gotten out of bed and now stood behind her, staring in silence. Butshe could still hear the soft almost-snore coming from her roommate's bed onthe other side of the room.
Sakura turned over and sat up,eyes wide, heart pounding in her chest. Every detail in the room could bediscerned in the wash of winter moonlight, but nothing was there that did notbelong. Miho still slept. Everything remained in its place. The tatami mats onthe floor were undisturbed.
She shivered, looking around."Hello?" she whispered into the shadows.
But whatever she had felt therehad gone, if it had ever been there at all.
That did it. She had managed toget through the entire day without a cigarette, but now she had to have one. Sakuraknew it was an addiction, had never denied it, but had usually managed to keepherself from
needing
to smoke. Now she felt compelled as never before. Sheclimbed out of bed, pulled on the sweatshirt she'd worn earlier, and borrowedMiho's boots, since her own were still soaked through.
Slipping her coat on, pattingthe pockets to make sure her cigarettes were still there, she went out into thecorridor, closing the door as quietly as possible behind her. If any of theteachers caught her she would definitely be punished, unless it was a fellowsmoker who would take pity on her.
None of that mattered. Sheneeded to walk and smoke and think.
Sakura descended the stairs insilence. This was far from the first time she had encountered trouble sleepingand decided to walk the grounds, and she had learned that the small check-indesk in the foyer tended to be abandoned between midnight and six a.m. Theschool relied on their students' adherence to the rules of conduct, counting onthem not to want to bring dishonor to their families. Foolish, really. Sakurawas far from the only student who had parents she would not mind embarrassing.
Even as the thought crossed hermind, however, she hesitated. Her mother and father had been very differentover the winter break. They had first astonished her by seeming glad to see herwhen she arrived home. Her mother had actually embraced her, and that nightwhen she had gone to bed, her father had kissed the top of her head. Oninstinct she had nearly cracked a joke about aliens replacing her real parents,but for once she had bitten her tongue. Cynical as she might be, she had notwanted to drive them away again.
They had been distant even whenAkane was alive, but after her murder they had seemed intent upon forgettingthey even had a second daughter, and frustrated when she did anything to remindthem. Now that seemed to have changed. All three of them still grieved the lossof Akane, but she thought they might be able to do it together from now on.
Sakura found the foyer as darkand abandoned as she had expected. The school seriously needed a securityupgrade, but she hoped they did not figure that out until she had graduated. Sometimesshe needed to get out of there.
Patting her pockets to make sureshe had keys, cigarettes, and her lighter, she slipped out, making sure thedoor locked behind her. The last of the storm had long since passed and, thoughit was quite cold, the wind had died completely. The night was crisp and cold,but so very still. Her footfalls upon the moonlit snow were the only sounds sheheard as she crossed the field between the dorm and the school.
On the east side of the school,perhaps thirty feet separated the building from the tree line, and the nightusually transformed it into a tunnel of darkness. Tonight, however, themoonlight shining off of the fresh snow illuminated even that dark alleyway. Shepassed the ancient prayer shrine tucked against the trees. On the left was arecessed doorway, long since painted over and forgotten, that had become herfavorite smoking spot. But she surprised herself by walking right past it andaround the front of the building.
Monju-no-Chie school stood on aslight hill which sloped downward to the shore of Miyazu Bay. Sakura stuckclose to the line of trees at the edge of the school's property as she walkeddown to the water, passing the place where — more than a year before — students had made a different kind of shrine to remember her sister.
Akane had been murdered righthere on the shore. Sakura could not walk down to the bay — or even glanceat this spot — without picturing the savage beating that the police saidher sister had received. Akane had been forced under the water, drowned righthere. And yet it had never occurred to Sakura's parents the torment to whichthey consigned her, leaving her at this school, where she would run thishideous scenario through her mind every single day.
Not that she would have wishedto go elsewhere. Sakura felt at home here, and loved her friends. But Akane'smurder always felt fresh to her, no matter how much time had passed. She hadlet go of the rage toward her sister's killer, helped by the fact that Ume wasno longer at Monju-no-Chie school, but she had not forgiven the girl, and neverwould. And her sorrow remained.
Yet she alone, among all of herfriends, had not seen a ghost.
Sakura took out a cigarette andlit it. The tip flared a bright orange and then dimmed to an ember's glow. Shedrew smoke into her lungs and then exhaled, smoke mixing with the mist of herwarm breath in the cold air.
"Are you there?" shesaid, speaking softly in the dark.
The only answer came from thelapping of the bay upon the shore. No ghosts revealed themselves to her.
It didn't seem fair.
Hachiro had never been so cold.
He huddled on the ground withhis knees drawn up beneath him, his back against a thick tree trunk. Twiceduring the long afternoon he had found the strength to force himself to hisfeet and he had tried to run, but both times she had caught him. Her touch hadbeen as light as a breeze, but it froze him rigid, as though ice had formed onhis bones. In his mind he could picture ice floes forming on the surface of ariver, the water slowing and then ceasing altogether, and he knew that shecould have done the same to his blood.
Winter had such beauty, and yetit could be fierce. Winter could kill so easily.
The Woman in White had a touchof winter, but her gaze was far worse. It had drained his will, turned him intolittle more than a puppet, a marionette held up by icicle strings. Twice he hadmanaged to summon enough willpower to break those strings, to attempt escape,but now he had used the last vestiges of that will, and the last of his hope.
The tree against his back wasthe only thing he trusted, now. The only thing that did not seem intent uponmaking him suffer. The rest of the world was winter. Moonlight streamed throughthe bare branches above, making long finger-shadows that seemed to reach forhim across the snow. His body felt stiff and if he shifted even an inch, hisbones ached so much he feared the marrow had frozen. Hachiro felt brittle, asthough a fall or a blow might shatter him.
Safer, then, to stay right here.
Hachiro's teeth chattered andhis whole body shook from the cold. When he closed his eyes, the lids andeyelashes stuck together, threatening to freeze. His hair was frosted with ice,his pants covered with a coating of snow that clung to the fabric, almost asthough the winter hoped to consume him, draw him down into the snow and makehim a part of it forever.
The night seemed to go onforever.
He thought of his parents andwondered if he would ever see them again. In his heart, he knew the answer, andit filled him with grief, as much for them as for himself. He thought of Karaand knew that she must be terrified for him. Hachiro would have given anythingto have been able to hold her, to touch her hair and whisper softly to her, totell her it would be all right.
But it wouldn't be.
Even now, he could hear Rencrying, begging to be set free. Hachiro hated himself because he could not makehis legs work, could not make himself stand and fight, could not save Ren fromthe Woman in White.
She did not want Hachiro towatch. It had been she who placed him here, against this tree, facing into thewoods and the cross-hatching of moonshadows that spread across the snow.
Ren called his name.
Hachiro closed his eyes, wishinghe could close his ears as well, and his heart. Instead he forced himself totry again to move, and was surprised to find that he had the power to turn hishead. A spark of hope rose within him and he took a moment to muster hisstrength and his courage before twisting around to see, to help. But as hetried to get his feet beneath him, his body would not obey him. The Woman inWhite had sapped his will and the cold had sapped his strength. He realizedthat he could no longer feel his feet, or his lower legs. His hands were likeclubs, no longer even connected to his body.
He lay on his side in the snow,unable to move even to lift himself into a sitting position again. He managedto twist his head to keep his face out of the snow, and there in the moonlightand winter shadows, he saw the Woman in White. Her beauty stole his breathaway.
She stood just a few feet awayfrom Ren, who floated above the ground, tossed to and fro by the winds that shecontrolled. Snow whipped at him, turning him round and round, toying with him. Hachirohad thought of himself as a marionette, but the Woman in White had turned Reninto a real puppet, and now she made him dance even as she caressed him withthe wind and the snow at her command.
"
Beautiful
,"she whispered. "
So beautiful
."
Hachiro closed his eyes and theicy grip of winter carried him down into the darkness.
On Tuesday morning, Kara woke tothe sound of the doorbell. She squinted against the sunshine that floodedthrough her window as she dragged herself out of bed, and when she lookedoutside and saw the lovely, gauzy blue sky, a terrible guilt descended uponher. How could she have slept so soundly, so well, when Hachiro might be dead? Hemight be frozen, like Sora, still lost upon that mountain, and she had manageda wonderful, restorative sleep without a single nightmare.
She leaned her forehead againstthe window, staring out at the bay across the street, and the cold glass numbedher skin. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her. She could so easily crawl backinto bed and succumbed to her fear for Hachiro and her guilt at leaving himbehind.
But he would still be lost.
No, something had to be done. Aglance at the clock told her it was just after eight o'clock. Searchers wouldalready be starting up the mountain, spreading out, looking behind every treeand in every hollow. The urge to be among them, to be up on that mountainlooking for him herself, was powerful. But if she believed there was somethingother than nature at work here — and she could not deny it seemedprobable — then the best way for her to help him was to figure out what,exactly, that might be, and figure out how to combat it.
When impossible things had firstbegun to happen to her — terrifying, supernatural things — she hadfelt more alone than she ever had before. But slowly others began to getinvolved, to learn the truth, and now Kara did not have to face this byherself.
Pulling on a robe, she left herbedroom. In the kitchen she found her father and Miss Aritomo embracing, Yuuka'scheek pressed against his chest as if she were listening to his heartbeat. Karafroze, hating to disturb their intimacy, but as she began to take a stepbackward a creaking floorboard gave her away and her father looked up.
"Good morning, sweetheart,"he said, as he and Miss Aritomo broke their embrace.
"Sorry to interrupt,"Kara said sheepishly.
"You're not interrupting,"Yuuka said, smiling. "You live here, remember?"