When Miho unlocked her door and pushed it open, they both saw Sakura sprawled, half-tangled in her sheets, unmoving. Kara gasped and from the visible jolt that went through Miho, she knew the other girl had made the same assumption.
But then Sakura moaned and stretched and rolled over. Her jagged, short hair stood up in tufts and wings. Bleary-eyed, she gave them a soft smile.
“Do you have to be so loud?”
“Sakura!” Miho said, hurrying toward her. “You scared me. For a second, I thought you were dead.”
The smile drained from Sakura’s face as she sat up, blanket around her waist. “That would be helpful. Then the police wouldn’t think I had Chouku’s blood on my hands.”
“Oh, no,” Miho said. “They don’t, really.”
Sakura nodded, rubbing her hands over her face. “Yeah. They do.”
“But they talked to everyone,” Kara said. “They asked me and Miho if you’d left the room during the night, and we told them no.”
“How do you know?” Sakura asked bitterly.
Kara blinked. “What do you-?”
“You were sleeping,” Sakura said. “You don’t know if I left or not.”
“We would’ve heard you,” Miho argued.
Sakura gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’m sure the police were totally convinced by that argument.”
She’d made a mess of the room, with dirty clothes strewn on the floor and piles of manga on Miho’s bed. Now she seemed to notice the condition of the place.
“Sorry about this. I couldn’t sleep, so I tried reading.”
But Kara had stopped listening, stopped paying attention to her. The window stood wide open and the temperature in the room was a good fifteen degrees colder than out in the hall. She went over and closed the window tightly, locking it.
“Why are you so quiet?” Sakura asked.
Kara looked at her. “We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You know what,” Kara said. She glanced at Miho, but the quieter girl only sat, waiting for her to speak. Miho and Sakura were best friends as well as roommates, but their dynamic had long since been established. Sakura was the wild one, the bold, outgoing one, and though Miho seemed more talkative with Kara, around Sakura she chose to play the part of modest mouse.
“Fine,” Kara went on, sitting down on the edge of Miho’s bed, locking eyes with Sakura. “You think Akane’s come back, that she’s giving us these dreams, that she’s the one who killed Chouku and Jiro, and made Hana jump off the roof, because they were all involved in her murder. Maybe they were. And maybe you’re right and Ume really did have something to do with it, too.”
Sakura’s nostrils flared, her expression cold. “And you think I’m crazy.”
Kara and Miho exchanged a look.
“Not entirely,” Kara said. Her heart raced and she felt her face flush. God, it’s so hard to say this stuff out loud, she thought. “Okay, a lot of people would think the whole thing was nuts. Ghosts? Spirits of murdered girls back from the dead? That’s pretty crazy. But Miho and I… we’ve been talking about it. What’s going on here isn’t normal. There’s something awful at this school. I feel like a total idiot using the word ‘evil,’ but I know what I feel.”
This last bit felt to Kara like a plea, and emotion welled up in her. Fear and desperation made her voice quaver.
“You’re talking about vampires again, aren’t you?” Sakura said, crossing her arms almost petulantly.
“Not exactly,” Kara said.
Miho took a breath before speaking. “You know the legend of the ketsuki?”
Sakura rolled her eyes, but instead of humor, a grim anger emanated from her. “Seriously? That’s so much easier to believe? I’ve seen the looks between the two of you, I know what you think. I’m losing my mind. I miss Akane so much that I’m wishing for this to be true. But I don’t wish it! I wish she was still alive, not a thing, not a spirit killing people! But she was my sister, and if she can’t rest because the police are such fools they don’t know how to make her killers pay, then she should rise! She should make them pay!”
Kara nodded. “Maybe she should. But I don’t think it’s Akane.”
Sakura threw up her hands, then turned away, wiping tears from her eyes. “How insane is this whole conversation? They’ll lock us all up if they hear us talking like this.”
Miho went to sit beside her, pulled her into an embrace. For a while, Sakura wept into the soft fabric of Miho’s sweatshirt. At last she steadied her breath and pulled away, looking up first at Miho and then at Kara.
“What makes you so sure it’s a ketsuki?”
Kara hesitated, running her tongue over dry lips.
Miho answered for her. “It came for Kara last night.”
Sakura’s eyes widened. “What?”
Kara nodded. “If Miho hadn’t woken my father, I’d probably be.. .”
She couldn’t say dead, but she did not need to. Miho and Sakura both knew what word she had left out.
Sakura sat a moment, taking that in, and then she shook her head.
“No. It’s Akane.”
“Sakura?” Miho said in surprise.
“You imagined it,” Sakura said, simmering with anger. “Akane’s back. I know it. I can feel her when she’s near. She wants justice. The police wouldn’t give it to her, so she’s taking it in blood, the way the old spirits always did.”
“You’re wrong,” Kara said, shaking her head, trying to get through to her friend. “I saw it. And even if I hadn’t, why would she come after me? I never even knew her.”
“Maybe she was there to frighten you because you don’t believe,” Sakura said, lips curling into cruelty now. “Or maybe she just doesn’t like you.”
“That’s not fair,” Miho said, reaching for her hand.
Sakura pushed her away. As they stared at her, she stood and pulled on pants and a sweater, slipped into shoes, and went to the door.
“Wait, Sakura,” Miho pleaded. “Don’t go.”
She didn’t even hesitate, slamming the door as she went out.
Miho turned to Kara, eyes pleading. “What are we going to do?”
Kara gnawed on her lower lip. “She’s having the dreams, too. If the ketsuki comes for her, she’ll go willingly, thinking it’s Akane. We can’t let her be here by herself anymore.”
Miho stared at the closed door. “We’re going to have to stop it, aren’t we?”
“Someone has to.”
“How?” Miho asked.
Kara shrugged, troubled but no longer confused. She felt strangely awake now. “I’m not sure. Nobody else will believe us. You’re leaving in a couple of days. But we have to… Wait a second.” Kara turned to Miho, mind racing, forcing herself not to succumb to the powerful temptation to pretend none of it was real. They both knew it was real. Denying it might cost Sakura her life. “You said there was a Noh play about the ketsuki. We should ask Miss Aritomo about it.”
Miho thought about that a moment, then nodded. “She might be busy dealing with parents, like your father, but let’s see if we can find her.”
A ripple of anticipation went through Kara. They might be crazy, but it felt good to be taking some kind of action.
“I should go tell my father I might be a while,” she said.
“Okay. I want to take a shower anyway. I’ll meet you on the school steps in half an hour?” Miho suggested.
Kara stood up. “See you there.”
The new school term had barely started, really, and already it was coming to a close. Boxes and suitcases and trunks were being carried out of the dorm. In a way, that seemed fitting to Kara. It felt like many weeks had
