bed. And she was barefoot.
Kara checked the floor near the front door, but if Miss Aritomo had taken her shoes off upon entering, she’d tucked them away somewhere. Yeah, like under Dad’s bed.
The thought put ice in her veins. No. He wouldn’t do that. Not after the argument they had already had.
But a teapot sat on the table and it looked to have been there for some time. Their teacups were empty. Kara’s father sat up straighter, a hundred thoughts flashing behind his eyes, like he was trying to find a way to explain the cozy scenario.
“Good morning, Kara,” Miss Aritomo said.
Realizing he’d not responded, Kara’s father smiled sadly, apologetically. “Good morning, honey.”
“Bonsai,” she corrected. “It’s what some of the kids call me at school. You know this. I’ve told you.”
“Why would I call you that?” her father asked, frowning.
Miss Aritomo shifted awkwardly in her seat but continued to smile.
“It’s what I am,” Kara told him. She pulled out a chair and sat with them, reaching out for the teapot. A small amount of tea sloshed inside.
“Would you like me to make some more?” Miss Aritomo asked politely, beginning to rise.
“No!” Kara snapped.
Her father and her teacher stared at her. Miss Aritomo had actually flinched. Kara didn’t care. This was her house, and her father’s house, not the house of this woman. Wasn’t she Japanese? Didn’t she give a damn about propriety? Who the hell did she think she was, wanting to make tea in a place she didn’t belong?
“Kara-” her father began.
She sighed. “So last night, you said you thought school would be closed for a while. Any idea how long?”
Her father hesitated, as though he wanted to go back and address what had just happened, but then he let it go. “At least three days. A lot depends on what the police are able to find out about this boy Yasu.”
“About his murder, you mean?” Kara asked.
That broke Miss Aritomo’s composure and her sadness returned. She lowered her head and wiped at one eye. Kara’s father reached out and covered her hand with his own, and that was enough.
Kara stood up. She knew she was being a bitch, but couldn’t bring herself to care. Rob Harper was her father. He should have been comforting his daughter, not this woman they’d known for only six months. Kara had been there, on the beach, helping to search for Yasu. Where was her comforting hand?
“I guess the police will be working overtime now, huh?” Kara said as she rose from the table and turned to go back to her room. “After what happened in April, maybe they’ll need to do their jobs. With all the people who were at the festival, I don’t think anyone’s going to believe that ‘bear attack’ story again, do you?”
“What do you mean by that?” her father called after her. “Kara?”
She went into her room, closed the door, and crawled into her bed, hoping that she could fall back to sleep. Bad dreams be damned.
Shortly after one p.m., Kara walked up the street toward Monju-no-Chie school and under the archway that led onto the grounds. She had slept for several hours and woken to find the house empty. A note from her father on the kitchen table explained that the teachers were going to be at school all day, phoning parents and answering questions from the boarding students.
Her cell phone had been off while she slept, but she found two voice messages and half a dozen texts from her friends. Apparently grief counselors were coming the next day, Monday, but for this afternoon the teachers and principal would be available in their classrooms for any students who wanted to talk to them about Yasu’s death or the school closure. Sakura’s text messages were amusing in their fury-according to her, all outstanding assignments would be due on the first day that classes resumed. That meant Kara had to go over to the school to pick up some of her books.
Miho had left her a voice message telling her that Miss Aritomo had scheduled a special meeting of the Noh club and volunteers for 2:30 p.m., and suggested they all meet at her room in advance to discuss their next step.
Kara followed a stone path at first, then diverted from the path onto the grass. Instead of going up to the front steps of the school, where the doors were open and a uniformed security guard-a startling new addition to the campus-stood just inside, she stayed to the right of the building. Despite the sunshine and the August heat, she shivered at the thought that this was the same patch of grass-between school and parking lot-where the Hannya had come after Miho.
Picking up her pace, she crossed the field that separated the school from the dorm. On an ordinary Sunday, the field would have been full of students hanging out, studying in the sun, or playing baseball, but today there were only a handful. One or two were alone, listening to music on their headphones while they studied or read, but the rest were in small, anxious groups, like people gathered outside a funeral home, waiting to attend a wake.
At the door, she had to show her identification to a second security guard who had been posted at the dormitory entrance. The man seemed dubious, narrowing his gaze as he studied her and then her ID. Yes, I’m white and American! she wanted to shout, but managed to fight the temptation. Everyone connected to the school would be tense and frightened today, and these new security guys were no exception.
Still, the seconds ticked by. He didn’t ask any questions, almost as if she weren’t standing there. Just when Kara had started to think she ought to have been wearing her school uniform instead of blue jeans and a tank top, the guard handed her ID back and asked her to sign in.
Kara signed, then hurried up the stairs. She needed to see Hachiro. One of the voice messages on her cell had been from him. But Sakura and Miho were waiting for her, so she wanted to stop by their room first before they could hook up with the boys.
Several doors were open, as if to make some connection with the world outside of those rooms, but the girls inside were as quiet as they would have been studying in a library, glancing quickly at Kara as she passed in the corridor and then looking away. The building was so quiet, in fact, that the slap of her brown leather sandals on the floor made her cringe.
Miho and Sakura’s door was closed. Kara gave a short, quick knock, wanting to be out of the hall, away from the grim climate of the dorm.
“Who is it?” Miho asked from inside.
“Kara.”
The lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing Miho just within. As Kara entered, she blinked in surprise, staring at the two girls who stood by the windows. Of course she had expected Sakura-she lived there, after all-but of all the guests Kara might have expected Miho and Sakura to be entertaining, Mai wouldn’t even have been on the list.
“What’s she doing here?” Kara blurted, so stunned she couldn’t stop herself.
Sakura smiled, a bit of mischief in her eyes, and turned away from Mai, dropping down onto her bed. Overnight, she’d dyed a strip of her hair a yellow so bright that it looked like a bird’s feather hanging over her face. She wore a shirt with ruffles down the middle, like it ought to go with a tuxedo, and it somehow made her chest look much bigger than it actually was. Heavy eyeliner and a black, pleated skirt-dangerously short-completed the transformation. Whatever rebellion Sakura nurtured in her heart, she had obviously decided to let it all out. Kara thought maybe this was her way of hiding from her fear. If it worked, good for her.
“She wants to help,” Sakura said.
“It only makes sense,” Miho added as she closed the door behind Kara, shutting the four girls in the room together. “Other than Hachiro and Ren, Mai’s the only other person who knows what’s really going on. Plus, Wakana is her roommate, and Daisuke is her friend. Do you really want to turn her away?”
Kara stared at Miho, who had also made a sort of transition. If Sakura found comfort in rebellion-her own little bit of chaos-Miho sought solace in order. She’d pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, applied just a touch of makeup under her glasses, and put on pants so neat and crisp they looked new, paired with a white, ribbed top with navy blue piping that matched the color of her pants. The little gold chain around her neck only added to the impression that she had dressed for a job interview.
“What the hell?” Kara whispered in English.
She shook her head and looked at Mai. Weird as it was, the one girl in the room she couldn’t stand was the only one who didn’t seem to be completely freaking out. Mai looked the way she always did, uptight and arrogant, though now-as had been the case lately-with the weight of sadness in her eyes.
