and a mirror.

“Wakana?” Mai said, an odd feeling creeping up her spine.

It might have been possible for her roommate to fit into one of the closets, but only barely, and not without spilling clothes out onto the floor. And then there was the question: why? Besides, Mai could feel the emptiness of the room.

Wakana was gone.

Brow furrowing, Mai glanced at the door she had just come through. Wakana must have gone out, locking the door behind her, knowing Mai had a key. It was the only thing that made any sense.

She went to the window and leaned on the sill, looking out, head cocked and all of her senses wide open. Something wasn’t right. No, more than that. Many things were not right. Her heart began to beat a little faster and the skin prickled at the back of her neck. The sound she’d heard, that tiny yelp-she had not imagined it. Mai might persuade herself otherwise if she let herself, so she fixed it firmly in her memory, pinned it there, confirming for herself that it had been real. And now that she considered it, her nostrils flared as she detected the strangest aroma in the room and just outside the window. The smell was neither pleasant nor unpleasant-or, rather, it was a bit of both, like dying flowers or fruit just beginning to turn.

Mai peered out into the darkness behind the dorm, where a narrow lawn separated the building from the woods that marked the property boundary at the rear of the school grounds. The wind continued to gust, rustling leaves, but that scent remained unchanged, lingering like the spray from a skunk, though not nearly so offensive.

Somewhere far off, a bell began to ring, or perhaps had been ringing. She tried to keep count of its tolling but lost track while wondering where the sound originated. Had one of the local churches or temples gotten a new bell? She’d never heard it before.

She flinched, stepping back from the window. Down in the trees, had she seen something moving? A pale face, darting behind a tree? Her heart began to sprint, now, and Mai tried to calm down.

The clock read 10:48. Late. Too late for Wakana to have gone out. Maybe she only went to someone else’s room. That had to be it. Relief washed over Mai as she grasped at this simple solution. Chuckling at herself, she let her towel and robe drop and quickly stepped into underwear and pajama bottoms and a yellow T-shirt with a cute monkey on it. She went to the door, thinking she would take a stroll down the hall, and surely she would find Wakana.

As she opened the door, a hot, humid breeze caressed her, and she remembered the open window, and the humming air-conditioner. She ought to shut the window. When she turned back to do precisely that, however, her gaze fell on something she hadn’t seen before.

Wakana’s keys, on the little tea table next to her bed.

Mai’s throat went dry. She ran her tongue out to moisten her lips, thoughts slowing, mind a bit numb. The keys were on the inside, which meant Wakana had to have locked the door from within.

She hadn’t left through the door.

Mai stared at the open window, one hand fluttering up to halfway cover her mouth as she shook her head, and thought of Daisuke. Of the police calling him a runaway.

It seemed Monju-no-Chie school had a second “runaway.” Only this one had left through a second-story window.

Kara sat at her desk trying desperately to stay awake over her math homework. She spoke Japanese fluently, and could read and write it fairly well, but sometimes mentally translating the instructions on a section of calculus homework made her want to scream. It ought to have been the simplest thing, but the Japanese words describing certain formulas and mathematical theorems confused her, which led to frustration, which led-this late at night-to outrageous boredom.

It didn’t help that they had walked miles tonight, both before and after their dinner at the noodle place, before taking the train back to the station near Monju-no-Chie school. It was just down the street from Kara’s house, but she had not dragged herself over the threshold until nearly ten o’clock. Her father and Miss Aritomo were out later than she had expected them to be, but this, of course, was a stroke of good luck. Her father couldn’t very well give her a hard time for staying out so late when he, himself, had not yet come home.

All night, she had been distracted by the question of whether or not to tell her father about Kyuketsuki. She had been emphatic about not doing so when talking to her friends, but inside she had been torn. If he believed her, he would be angry with her for not having told him the truth originally, and he might well pull her out of the school and pack them both back off home to Boston on the next flight. If he believed her.

Much more likely was option B, in which he didn’t believe a word of it and was either offended or assumed she had lost her mind. In either case, he would have to do something.

Kara hated not being completely honest with her father. Their relationship had always been open, especially after her mother’s death. They had drawn strength from each other, and the truth was a big part of that. But if she told him the truth, one way or another, he would have to act on it.

No, she had decided while reading from her biology textbook, attempting to study. If anything truly weird or scary happened, or if she had reason to believe Daisuke’s disappearance had anything to do with the curse, she would tell him. Otherwise, there would be no point. All the truth would bring either one of them was stress, and unhappiness.

For what felt like the thousandth time, she tried to focus on the directions for the third section of her math homework. Her eyes felt itchy and dry and exhaustion caused her chin to start to dip toward her chest. Her lids fluttered as she struggled to stay awake.

Maybe she did actually fall asleep, just for a few minutes, before voices outside her window woke her. Kara inhaled sharply, blinking, and for a moment only sat there, reacquainting herself with the waking world. Only then did she realize what had caught her half-conscious attention, and zero in on the voices.

Her father and Miss Aritomo were back from their dinner date at last.

Once again, she found herself in conflict, with new thoughts only adding to the mental turmoil. If she told her father, and he believed her, who would he tell? Miss Aritomo? The principal, Mr. Yamato? The police? Even if Kara could persuade her father that she and her friends had not imagined the wild things she would be telling him, once he spoke of it to others he would be subject to ridicule. No one would believe him, any more than they would have believed Kara, Sakura, and Miho. Perhaps he could convince Miss Aritomo, but in the end, it would mean dishonor and humiliation for him, and for what purpose?

Kara took a deep breath and rubbed grit from the corners of her eyes. No. She’d been right the first time. Talking to her father about any of this had to be kept as a final option. Right now, they had only their own fears to report. For all they knew, they were in no danger.

Sitting up straight in the chair, she focused intently on the instructions for the final section of her math homework. Half a dozen problems and she could go to sleep. This time, for whatever reason, she managed to decipher the directions in fairly short order. That’s all? She smiled. This would take twenty minutes or less to complete.

But as she took up her pencil, she heard voices again and realized her father and Miss Aritomo were still outside. If they were saying good night, they were sure taking their time about it. God, she thought, they’re probably totally making out, right there, where anyone driving by could see them.

Perhaps they had been, but now they were talking. For the first time that day, she managed to calm her thoughts and just listen.

“-tell you how much it’s meant to me, spending this time with you,” her father was saying, his voice low. Didn’t he know she could hear him? Or maybe, since the only light on in her room was the little one on her desk, and she’d been so quiet… did he think she was asleep?

“It’s been a wonderful surprise for me, too,” Miss Aritomo replied sweetly.

“Ever since Annette died, I’ve worried almost every second. Was I doing the right thing for Kara? How could we start our lives over? Would coming to Japan make that easier, or more difficult? Always doubting myself. But whenever I’m with you, I feel such a sense of peace.”

Kara smiled sadly, there in the glow of her one little lamp. If her father had really been that anxious all the time, he rarely let it show. He’d done an amazing job of keeping their world steady, and the two of them had taken care of each other. If Miss Aritomo brought him peace of mind, how could she begrudge him that?

“I’m glad,” the art teacher said, voice dropping even lower. “I feel that peace, too.”

Вы читаете Spirits of the Noh
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