The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

so unusual, you know.”

When Masako heard that, it made her not want to go into Bunichi’s room.

“Bunichi?” she said. “That scary thing… is it still there?”

“Yeah, sure it is. Come up and see,” he replied with a smirk on his face.

“No way!”

“Okay, then you wait here. I’ll go ahead and put it away.”

“Do you remember what it was?” Masako turned to Bunichi’s mother, who was now pouring tea for them.

“Well,” said Bunichi’s mother, looking a little unsure. “I didn’t really pay so much attention to what it was that scared you. My main concern was that you had fainted. I do recall that it was actually something quite silly, though.”

“Masako!” called out Bunichi. “You can come in now.”

“Are you sure you’ve put it away?” asked Masako as she anxiously approached the door.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You can come in now.”

Slowly and cautiously, Masako stepped into Bunichi’s room. And as soon as she did, out jumped Bunichi from behind the door with a mask on his face! It was a “Prajna” mask from one of the stories Bunichi liked, with hollow eyes, a gaping bright-red mouth and an expression so fierce it could only belong to a creature from another world.

THE PRAJNA MASK

Masako let out a scream, pushed Bunichi out of her way and ran right past his mother and out of the front door — without even stopping to put on her shoes. She felt as if her heart might jump out of her mouth at any moment, and she didn’t stop until she was a good ten metres away from the house, where she squatted down on the pavement and tried to catch her breath. Now she remembered all too well. That was the same stupid mask that had terrified her the last time! And how nasty was it of Bunichi to scare her like that! Perhaps he thought it was funny. Well, it most certainly was not! He should know how frightened she was of that mask!

“That’s it,” said Mariko to herself as her eyes became red, more from anger than fear. “I don’t need his help with my homework any more. I’m never going to hang out with him ever again.”

Mariko stood up and looked around. The street was completely empty, except for a single black cat that was sitting next to the mailbox. She wished she could just go home. But first she needed her shoes, so reluctantly she went back to Bunichi’s house, and as she entered she heard Bunichi being scolded by his mother.

“What were you thinking!? Masako is a girl! That was way out of line, young man!”

“But…” Bunichi stammered. “I didn’t think it would scare her so much. I mean, she’s not a kid any more. If anything, I thought I would get a laugh out of her…”

Bunichi sounded genuinely confused and concerned.

“Stop making excuses and go look for her. Now!” his mother shouted.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” said Masako, feeling a little sorry for him.

Both Bunichi and his mother hurried towards her, apologizing profusely as they came, and Masako started to feel a little embarrassed for making such a big deal over a small thing. As an apology, Bunichi offered to break his piggy bank and use the proceeds to take her to a movie on Sunday. Masako was happy and ready to accept his apology, but she thought she’d better stay in a sulk for just a little while longer. After all, if she went back to her usual mood too quickly, then Bunichi might tease her about the whole thing.

Several days had passed since the incident with the Prajna mask at Bunichi’s house, but Masako couldn’t stop thinking about it. The mask was certainly scary, no question about it. But it was just a mask after all. So Masako couldn’t quite understand why she’d reacted in such an extreme manner. What’s so scary about a stupid mask? she thought to herself. Surely there must be a reason. Or could it be that I’m just more easily scared than others?

As she mulled these thoughts over in her head, Masako remembered that Bunichi was afraid of something too. Spiders. Masako, on the other hand, had no problem with them. I guess… she pondered, different people are just scared of different things. But still, there was something about the incident with the mask that continued to bother her.

Thinking back to her first year of secondary school, Masako remembered a time when she’d had to draw a Prajna mask for art class. When she’d first seen the mask, she’d felt a shiver go down her spine, but she’d soon got used to it. So it seemed it was only scary to her now when it suddenly appeared in front of her. Perhaps it wouldn’t be scary any more if she were to look at it for long enough. It also occurred to her, for the first time, that maybe the reason she didn’t like art class was the fact that the walls of the art room were decorated with Prajna masks. She’d loved art class in primary school, after all. But in secondary school, she hadn’t even bothered to join the art club. Instead, she’d decided to join the volleyball club, even though she wasn’t any good at it. Perhaps there was something more to her feelings about the Prajna mask. Could it be that she’d had some terrible experience with a Prajna mask some time ago? An experience she could no longer remember?

THE WOMAN WITH SCISSORS

When it came to being easily scared, nobody was more easily scared than Masako’s younger brother, Yoshio. He was almost five years old, but still he kept wetting his bed because he couldn’t go to the toilet on his own at night — no matter how many times his parents told him off for it. Masako felt sorry for him, not only because he was always being told off by their parents, but also because his classmates had started to tease him and call him “bed-wetter”. If only there was something she could do to help him stop wetting the bed! Several months earlier she had even asked Yoshio about it.

“Hey, Yoshio,” she’d said. “Why is it you’re so scared of going to the toilet?”

“Because it’s so far from where I sleep,” Yoshio had replied.

Yoshio did have a point. After all, they lived in a relatively large house, and the hallway leading to the bathroom was really quite long.

“And it’s dark,” Yoshio had added. “And there’s something there too.”

“What do you mean ‘something’? Do you mean a ghost?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“What then?”

“Something scary.”

“Is it a person?”

“Yeah.”

“A spirit of some kind?”

“No, not a spirit. It’s a woman.”

“Why would a woman scare you?”

“Because her hair is all messy and her face is pale and scary.”

“It must be a spirit of some kind then.”

“It’s not.”

“Well how do you know it’s not a spirit?”

“I don’t know how I know! I just know that it isn’t.”

“And this woman is in the hallway?”

“No, she’s inside the bathroom. When I open the bathroom door, she’s always standing there with a pair of