Haru smiled, but it was not the warm summer smile Jamie had grown used to. It was pondering, thoughtful in a melancholy way, as he leaned back against the stone side of the bath to gaze up at the night sky.
“Sayuri, Sayuri! Sharp as a knife,” he intoned, still staring at the sky as if he expected the stars to give him an answer to a question Jamie couldn’t hear. “She is like a little sister to me, and I want her to live well.”
Jamie had always felt that way about Ellie too. And that was exactly why he had to keep his distance, so he could do his job properly, whether she liked it or not. He felt better knowing that Haru felt the same, even if they went about it in a different way.
Then Haru said the worst possible thing. “If you weren’t a Partizan, what do you think you would want to do instead?”
The words were ice shards slicing through the warmth of the bath.
“I don’t,” Jamie replied at last, his tone as cold as his heart. “I don’t think about it.”
Jamie climbed out of the bath, grabbing his towel and making it clear he had no interest in continuing such a distasteful conversation, when he felt Haru’s fingers curl around his wrist.
The look in his eye had warped. The comforting chocolate brown had turned to the shade of oak, somber and wise, and his grip was so tight it felt like bruises must be flowering beneath the skin.
“You should think about it.” Haru’s voice was no longer a pillow, but a deep well filled with mystery. “I’ve heard you’re talented. Music, poetry . . . Why did you choose my class? You could have done theater, helped with the music or the writing. Why kendo?”
For the first time in his life Jamie felt something he’d never experienced before. He was lost for words. So instead of answering he did the next best thing.
“Get off me or I will break your arm.”
Haru let go, his easygoing demeanor returning so seamlessly it was like he’d never changed. A smile bloomed once more on his face, stretching wide. “I am deeply sorry to have offended you.” The new tone made Jamie feel foolish for reacting so harshly. Haru gave Jamie one more glimpse of his sunshine smile and added, “I hope we can still be friends.”
Lottie loved costume making. She loved it, loved it, loved it. It combined all her favorite things: painting, decorating, storytelling and fairy tales. And—oh!—she was learning so many new fairy tales, about Japanese ghosts and demons, yōkai and kami. There were good yōkai and bad yōkai, and often the most gruesome ones of all were the nicest. It was so different from the folklore she’d grown up with. She only wished she could understand Sayuri as well as she did these fairy tales.
“Kabocha-chan!” Miko mumbled, her mouth filled with pins. It was a pet name she’d invented after learning that Lottie answered to “Pumpkin.” Little did Miko know, it was, in fact, her real name. “What is that thing?”
It took a second for Lottie to realize what she was talking about, until Miko nodded in the direction of the tiara on top of the worktable. Even among all the wonderful horrors that were laid out, the twisting vines of the silver tiara glittered with their own magic, the crescent-moon opal at the center like rainbow milk.
“Oh, it’s a family heirloom. I was hoping to incorporate the design into one of the outfits.”
Scrunching up her nose, Miko took a sip of a fluorescent-blue drink that smelled like bubblegum. “No way! Its energy is distracting me.”
“Excuse me?” Lottie blinked, wondering if perhaps she’d actually met someone who could also feel the strange power of Liliana’s tiara.
“I said, put it away—we need to do a fitting today. Our maiden will be here soon.”
Nodding reluctantly, Lottie slowly placed the tiara in her bag under the table. Apologizing to it under her breath as if it were a person, she made a mental note to try to persuade Miko later.
It didn’t take long to become absorbed in her work again, turning back to the intricate stitching needed to create the cat fur of her design. It was a beautiful and terrible vampire-feline-maiden-monster. It seemed like a bizarre mix, but Miko assured her it would satisfy the story, although she had yet to tell it to her. The theater students were split into groups to enact different plays at the end of the summer. Each group had two costume/set designers, two musicians, two scriptwriters, and three performers. And maybe, if Lottie had been paying more attention to everything outside of her strange regalia, she wouldn’t have been so shocked to find out who would be wearing her vampire-feline-maiden-monster costume.
“Hello, Princess.”
Lottie looked up from her stitching to see a bright crop of red hair and an inordinate amount of facial piercings.
“How is my costume coming along?” asked Rio.
“Sorry, Rio,” Lottie began, “I don’t think we’re making your outfit. This is for the maiden.”
A smirk cracked Rio’s face and Miko rolled her eyes behind him.
“Oh, but Kabocha-chan . . .” Lottie bristled at the name, not liking when anyone other than Miko used it. “I am your maiden.” He gave a flamboyant twirl, moving with all the grace and fluidity of a geisha, before switching back to his regular cocky self.
“He’s an onnagata,” Miko interjected, saving Lottie. “A boy who plays a girl in theater. He’s good.”
“Good” was extremely high praise from Miko.
Rio smiled, tilting his head to the side with a decidedly feminine grace. “All appearance is performance, Lottie.”
“Well then.” Lottie finally found her voice, stepping up to Rio, already thinking about how he would complement her costume. “Let’s get you fitted.”
Stripped down and redressed in a thin black robe, Rio began to transform again into a new skin, mannerisms and expressions turning delicate and coy as if the robe itself had altered his soul.
Lottie and Miko began pinning their fabric over him with utmost
