Kara had mastered chopsticks at the age of five, but she and her father had agreed that in their own house, they would use forks. Night came on, with even cooler temperatures, and Kara appreciated having something warm in her belly.
After dinner they cleaned up together. Her father went into the room he kept as an office to prepare for the following day’s classes, and Kara retreated to her room to do her homework. The events of the day were still fresh in her mind. Now that most of the morning’s butterflies were gone from her stomach, she found herself excited all over again.
She’d been told to expect about two hours’ worth of homework a night, but since it was the first day, she finished in less than half that time. Her windows had been open a couple of inches to let in the breeze of the day, and she’d enjoyed the crisp air while she did her homework-it helped keep her awake. Now, though, she went and closed the one nearest her bed.
The window gave her a view of the school, and the bay shore. She could see lights across the water and a dark swath that could only be Ama-no-Hashidate. For a moment she admired the peaceful view.
Then she remembered what Sakura had said: her sister had been murdered at the water’s edge. Kara’s serene moment winked out, like a candle snuffed by an errant breeze. The place where Akane had died must be farther along the bay, on the school grounds, so Kara wouldn’t be able to see the spot from here.
The thought troubled and intrigued her in almost equal measure.
She shook it off. Tragic as Sakura’s loss might be, Kara couldn’t let it ruin her appreciation of the delightful place where they had chosen to live. Miyazu City had its charms, chief among them the view of the bay and of Ama-no-Hashidate, which was considered among the three most beautiful locations in Japan. If Kara let this get to her, it would be a very, very long year.
Determined, she pulled on a sweatshirt. Her guitar called to her from the corner of the room, but she could play later. Right now, she wanted to explore, and she wasn’t about to let the night, or tales of murder, make her afraid.
“Dad, I’m going for a walk,” she said, at the door to his office.
He looked up from his desk, brow furrowed in momentary concern. Then he nodded. “All right. Don’t go far.”
Kara assured him she wouldn’t and headed for the door. She stepped out into the night, burrowing a little deeper into her sweatshirt, and started walking, first thinking she might head to the Turning Bridge before her feet decided to stroll along the path toward the school. Maybe some of the boarding students would be outside. Could they go outside? The ones who went to cram school would probably just be getting back. If she became real friends with Miho or Sakura, or anybody else, she wondered what the rules were for socializing.
Still, the warm yellow lights in the distant windows of the school comforted her. As a little girl, she had been afraid of many things. Every noise outside her window might be a ghost, every creak of the house a thief who might try to steal her away. Her mother had stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, and always said the same words until they became a mantra.
“There’s nothing in the dark that isn’t there in the light.”
Most of the time, her mother managed to convince her. But only most of the time. At sixteen, Kara still felt afraid sometimes, but she had to recite the mantra herself, these days. Her mother’s death had stolen so many things from her, so many moments. Sometimes Kara missed her so much she couldn’t breathe.
There’s nothing in the dark that isn’t there in the light, she thought as she walked along the path, forcing herself to taste the spring night air, to relish the beauty of the bay and the lights of the city.
A squeaking noise made her jump, but it was only an old man riding by on a bicycle. She smiled at him, but he didn’t even seem to notice her.
Nothing in the dark.
A trio of boys marched up the path toward the front doors of Monju-no-Chie School like coal miners or factory workers headed home after a long day. Kara watched them approach, surprised to see them so serious outside of school. Boys were usually laughing about something; whether they were insulting one another for sport or talking about girls, they tended to amuse themselves. But not these guys. Kara didn’t know the rules for students who lived in the dorm, but she doubted they were allowed to stay late in the city on school nights unless they were at juku.
Once more she felt grateful not to have the pressure the other students did. She couldn’t imagine the stress of adding cram school-and that much more homework-to her current schedule. It had to be past nine o’clock, and these guys would have to do the homework from the regular school day plus whatever they had to do for juku. Once the teachers started piling on the work, that might be three hours or more a night, total.
“Excuse me?” Kara said.
The three boys had been so tired, or so focused on getting back to their rooms, that they hadn’t noticed her. One of them even let out a small grunt of surprise, startled. Kara stood in the shadows off to the left of the front steps, hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“What are you doing out here?” one of them snapped, angry or embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I would take a walk, but no one else is outside.”
“It’s late,” one of the other boys said.
“I know. I just wasn’t sure… I don’t really know the rules yet. Are the students who live here allowed to have visitors in the dormitory?”
The one who’d spoken first, a short, doughy-faced guy, leered at her and waggled his eyebrows. “Why? Did you want to visit one of us, bonsai?”
Kara frowned. The piggish behavior bothered her, but not as much as the nickname. “Why did you call me that?” she asked, thinking of the soccer girls, and Ume, who’d been so bitchy at first and then tried to be nice.
“Everyone’s calling you that,” muttered the one she’d startled. “Bonsai. I wouldn’t complain. It’s not nearly as bad as some of the things they could be calling you.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind. I’m sorry I bothered you,” Kara said, half-scowling. She started to walk away.
“Bonsai!” one of the boys called. When she didn’t turn, he tried again. “Kara.”
She froze. They all knew her, didn’t they? Everyone at the school, whether or not they’d ever even seen her face. She’d only spoken to a handful of her schoolmates, but every single one of them knew who she was. It creeped her out, more than a little.
“What?” she asked, turning to face the three boys again.
“No visitors are allowed in the dorm after eight o’clock, except for other non-resident students. That’s you. If you’re part of a club or study group, you can stay until ten, and sometimes, if you get special permission, they allow non-resident students to sleep over with friends on weekends. But you’d only be allowed in the girls’ wing. We have shared common areas, but you wouldn’t be allowed into the boys’ wing.”
I’m heartbroken, Kara thought. But the guy didn’t deserve sarcasm. His friend had been obnoxious, but this one had at least been polite.
“Thank you,” she said.
His friends had already started tentatively up the steps, looking back impatiently. They behaved like she wasn’t even there. Kara returned the favor, turning to stroll away from the school. She had gotten the answer she’d wanted. Living with her father would give her the best of both worlds. When all she desired was a quiet, safe place of her own in which to curl up, she’d find that at their little house. But if she made any real friends among the boarding students, they could hang out in the dorm as well.
She wasn’t sure how it would work with local kids who attended Monju-no-Chie School. Walking around downtown or hanging out by the bay might work on the weekends, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting a lot of invitations for movie night. Study groups might be the only social life available during the week.
Maybe Miho and Sakura would end up being her friends, or Hachiro, but it was only the first day. Anything could happen. For now, Kara was on her own.
Strolling across the grounds, she found herself walking once again along the path that led around the side of the school, near the woods. The dark, recessed doorway where Sakura had been hiding to smoke a cigarette before class seemed much darker now, and forbidding. But she’d come this way to take a look at the ancient prayer shrine at night.
She’d explored the area several times since they had moved to Japan, and she’d taken plenty of pictures. But
