Spirits of the Noh (12 page)

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.

“You really want to help?” Kara asked.

Mai crossed her arms. “I want answers. I want to know what happened to my friends. Of course I want to help.”

The corners of her mouth were pinched as if in anger, but her eyes told a different story, and Kara couldn’t deny the real pain she saw there. Mai was sincere.

Kara nodded. “Fine. We needed a sixth person anyway.”

“That was easier than I expected,” Sakura said.

Kara glanced at Miho, then looked down at her. “If we’re going to try to watch over the rest of the kids working on the Noh play, we’ll have to split up. But no way is anyone going to be alone at anytime. With Mai, there are six of us; that means three teams of two.”

“And how do we decide who goes with whom?” Mai asked.

“You don’t,” Kara said. “We do. I’m with Hachiro. Miho and Ren. You’ll be with Sakura.”

Sakura protested loudly. “I don’t want her with me. Let her go with Hachiro. You don’t necessarily have to be with your boyfriend, right? I mean, if you guys are kissing or whatever, you’re not going to be able to pay much attention to the people you’re supposed to be looking after.”

Mai stared at Sakura. “To hell with you. I came to help.” She started toward the door.

Kara held up a hand to stop her. “If you want to help, then help. Don’t be a diva. You didn’t really expect to show up here and have us all like you, did you? Of course not. Get over it.”

Then she turned to Sakura. “You’re with Mai for two reasons. First, the Hannya might be going after the kids in the Noh club for now. Maybe they disrespected it somehow, or maybe it just preys on them because they were the ones who summoned it. But you and me and Miho—we’re the ones with the curse on us. If the curse has anything to do with the Hannya being here, then we’re targets, too. Maybe the Noh club, the actors and stuff, they’re just the appetizers. If that’s true, then the three of us shouldn’t be together. We partner up with someone who isn’t cursed.”

Mai stared at her, eyes wide. “You admit you’re cursed? That this whole thing is happening because of you?”

Sakura got up off the bed, hands clenched into fists. “Don’t even say that again. Yes, we have a curse on us, and maybe that’s what brought the Hannya here. But it all started with your friend Ume murdering my sister. The less you remind me of that, the less often I’ll have to struggle with the urge to hurt you.”

“That’s the other reason I want you with Mai,” Kara said, keeping her gaze fixed on Mai. “If she does anything that could put us in more danger, you’re the only one who won’t hesitate to beat the crap out of her.”

Mai lifted her chin. “It might not be as easy as you imagine.”

Sakura grinned, shrugging. “Hopefully we’ll never know. Friends aren’t supposed to fight.”

“We’re not friends,” Mai quickly corrected.

“No,” Miho agreed. “But for now, we’ll have to be.”

Kara nodded. “All right. Let’s go get the boys. We don’t want to be late for Aritomo-sensei’s meeting.”

11

I
am still committed to bringing Noh theater to life at Monju-no-Chie school,” Miss Aritomo said, standing at the head of the classroom. “But I am certain that you will all understand why, for now, it is best to suspend any further preparations or rehearsals for
Dojoji
.”

Kara shifted awkwardly in her seat. Several times while she was speaking, Miss Aritomo had focused on her, as though speaking directly to her. Kara wished she wouldn’t do that. All morning she had been trying to erase from her mind the image of the woman sitting at the breakfast table with her father, hair unkempt, sipping tea, as though she belonged there. As though she’d woken up there.

You’re not family
, Kara thought now, trying to communicate the message through her gaze. Yet when Miss Aritomo did glance at her again, Kara looked away.

Muttered whispers went through the room. Normally the Noh club would have been far more orderly and respectful, but the situation unnerved it. With members of the club as well as volunteers present, the room buzzed with voices and bulged with too many warm bodies. People stood in the back and along the side walls.

A girl at the front raised her hand. “How long before rehearsals begin again?”

Everyone had wanted to ask the same thing. Miss Aritomo smiled politely as always, and inclined her head.

“All preparations are canceled until further notice,” the teacher said. “This is a time of great sadness for all of us, and of questions and cautions. We should all be reflecting upon the loss of our friend, and yet remain aware of our surroundings. Whoever killed Yasu did so on Ama-no-Hashidate, far from school. There is no reason to believe a threat exists here, but this is a reminder to us all that we must take care of ourselves and one another.”

Silence fell upon the room. In the seat next to Kara, Miho fidgeted. Sakura cleared her throat a little, glancing around expectantly. Ren hadn’t come in—he was upstairs with Hachiro and Mai—but if he’d been there, Kara imagined that Miss Aritomo’s tone would have erased even his ever-present smile.

“Are you saying we’re in danger?” one guy at the front of the room asked.

Miss Aritomo cocked her head, hesitant, as though they’d caught her saying something she hadn’t meant to.

“No,” she said, the lie sounding hollow. “There is no reason to think that. As I said, the attack on Yasu took place during the festival, nowhere near the school. The police are investigating, of course, but no one has suggested—”

A girl from Hachiro’s homeroom raised her hand, but did not wait to be called on.

“Excuse me, Aritomo-sensei,” she said, “but what about Daisuke and Wakana? I know the police say they ran away to be together, but what if they didn’t? They were also in Noh club. I’m … I’m frightened that something might have happened to them, too. Doesn’t it seem a huge coincidence that these things are happening only to students in the Noh club?”

When Miss Aritomo smiled now, her expression seemed brittle and her face had gone pale.

“I understand, Chiyoko, but it really is a coincidence. As much as we may worry about our missing friends, and grieve for Yasu—and Mr. Yamato has suspended school for these few days so that we can properly grieve—no one has suggested any connection among these cases.”

Her attempts at reassuring the class were having the opposite effect, Kara thought. Miss Aritomo spoke with no conviction at all, and it was obvious that she feared the very same things, but refused to speak about them. A silence spread among the students as they recognized her fear, and Kara could see in the art teacher’s eyes that she knew they had seen through her.

“For my part,” she said, forging ahead, “I still look forward to working with all of you to bring
Dojoji
to life in the grand Noh tradition. To honor Yasu, and to reflect, we will simply cease work for a time, and when we resume our work, we will dedicate our efforts in his honor as well.”

Kara stared at her, fascination overcoming any lingering awkwardness from the morning. Miss Aritomo had been shattered by Yasu’s murder and by her fears about what might have become of her other missing students. If anything, she was more afraid than the club members about what might come next. Kara didn’t think that Miss Aritomo had any inkling about what was really going on—that there was a hideous reality to her dream of bringing
Dojoji
to life—but the events of the past week obviously weighed horribly upon her.

When she dismissed the students, Miss Aritomo glanced over, but Kara pretended not to notice, standing and shuffling out of the room with Sakura and Miho. Whatever her father’s girlfriend—for that’s what she was now, wasn’t she?—wanted to say to her, it could wait.

“What do you think?” Miho whispered to Kara and Sakura as they moved with the other students toward the stairs.

“I think she’s falling apart,” Sakura muttered.

They started up the stairs. Hachiro, Ren, and Mai would be waiting for them outside the front door.

“That’s not what I meant,” Miho said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I mean, if the production is canceled, do you think it will stop now? Do we still need to follow through with the plan?”

Kara frowned. “You think it’s just going to go away?”

“Well, if there isn’t going to be a play—”

A ripple of unease went through Kara. She moved nearer to Miho, whispered in her ear, knowing her tone was harsh but not at all sorry.

“Have you already forgotten that thing that chased you in the dark? Or the glimpse we got of Yasu’s body in the woods? Hannya or not, whatever it is, it’s on the hunt now. As long as it has prey, it isn’t going anywhere.”

Had it not been for Ren’s presence by her side, Miho would never have stayed out after dark. Even with Ren there for company, she glanced nervously at the darker shadows they passed, wary for any sign of the Hannya, or even the sense that they were being followed.

For her part, the girl, Chiyoko, seemed to have no sixth sense at all when it came to being pursued. Miho and Ren had followed her from the dorm, across the grounds of the school—keeping a reasonable distance—and down the street past Kara’s house and the train station, to arrive at a tiny sweet shop called Cherry Blossoms. The aromas of the candy coming through the door made Miho hungry, but she and Ren remained outside, across the road, while Chiyoko and a female friend they didn’t recognize browsed inside the sweet shop.

“You do know this is hopeless, right?” Ren said, his voice low.

Miho flinched and looked at him, wondering for a moment if he meant the task at hand or the crush she’d been nurturing for him. She assumed the former, only because in the past couple of days, the awkwardness between them had begun to dissipate. In fact, now that she’d made a fool of herself by basically asking him out, only to learn that he didn’t like girls, their friendship had grown much stronger. They had originally gotten to know each other because both were friends of Sakura, but now Miho and Ren had forged their own bond, thanks to her embarrassment and his kindness.

“You think we’re wasting our time?” she asked.

They stood in the shadows under a tree, across the street from Cherry Blossoms. Chiyoko and her friend had been in there awhile.

Ren shrugged, still staring at the shop. Little slices of moonlight cut through the branches of the tree and made his bronze hair gleam. Miho forced herself not to think about it; he was a friend, and a friend he would stay.

“There aren’t enough of us,” Ren replied. He glanced at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. “Six of us to watch out for dozens of other students? It isn’t enough. We are very lucky tonight, but what about tomorrow?”

Miho took a deep breath and nodded. What could she say? They had all known the limitations of their plan from the beginning. Now that they had started to implement it, the hugeness of the task only confirmed what they had feared. Tonight, Sakura and Mai were in the lobby of the dormitory, watching out for any Noh club students who might leave the building, though most of them were too anxious to go anywhere after dark. Yasu’s death had thrown a grim shroud over all of them.

Kara and Hachiro were over at the school building. A handful of Noh club kids had gone there to pack up materials they’d already completed for the stage and background. Along with the costumes, some finished and others works-in-progress, they would be carefully stored until work on the production resumed. That meant that Kara and Hachiro could watch over four of the Hannya’s potential targets at one time, even as nearly all of the others were inside their dorms for the night.

Those who lived at home had departed in the afternoon, as soon as Miss Aritomo had finished briefing them. But several of the boarding students had gone out to shop or eat or on other Sunday errands, and Miho and Ren had been left with choosing who they would follow. Chiyoko had been cast to portray the Hannya itself in
Dojoji,
and so when she and her friend had left the dorm, the decision had been instant. No matter that it might leave others unwatched and therefore more vulnerable—they could only be in one place at a time.

“We had to choose,” she said to Ren.

“That’s my point,” he replied. “What if we chose wrong? Then this is all for nothing. We can’t possibly watch them all. This is wrong. We’ve got to tell people now, before it’s too late.”

Miho took a deep breath. She knew he was right. “When we get back to the dorm tonight, we’ll talk to the others. Kara may argue—mainly because she doesn’t want to embarrass her father—but I agree with you.”

Ren gave a short nod, fixing a kind of contract between them, but then he returned his attention to the sweet shop. Chiyoko really did seem to have been in the shop a long time. Several more seconds ticked by before he took a step out from under the tree.

“Do you think we should go in?” he asked.

Just then the door of the shop clicked open and Chiyoko and her friend emerged, as though summoned by the question. Ren retreated to Miho’s side and the two faced each other, smiling and muttering bits of nothing in low voices, pretending not to notice Chiyoko at all. Miho felt silly, and not at all convincing in this ruse. Even if Ren had been her boyfriend she would not have flirted so openly and completely as she now pretended to. But Chiyoko and her friend chatted happily, thrusting their hands into a shared bag of some sort of sugary candy, and walked on by, in the general direction of the school.

“All set?” Ren asked.

Miho smiled, blushing a bit. “Feeling very silly, but yes. Let’s go.”

They turned, hand in hand, and followed Chiyoko and her friend. The girls meandered a bit, but as they crossed the street and passed in front of a small shoe store, Miho realized their trajectory would not lead them to the school at all. Instead, the two girls went up a small staircase into the train station.

“What now?” Ren muttered.

“Shush,” Miho said, squeezing his hand.

They waited a few seconds before they followed, walking into the station as though it truly was their destination. Miho didn’t understand. Chiyoko should have been scared. Nearly everyone she had spoken to had seemed at least unnerved by Yasu’s death, and wanted to be cautious. But perhaps to Chiyoko, caution just meant not being out in the dark alone.

Her mind raced. Chiyoko had to be going into Miyazu City. Maybe she and her friend were meeting boys from a different school, or had some special shop to visit. Perhaps her friend didn’t live in the dorm and they were going to her house for the night. That made more sense than anything, considering it was a Sunday night. They had no school tomorrow, but the rest of Miyazu City hadn’t changed its schedule. Most of the shops would be closed by now, or closing soon. The city slowed down on Sunday night—there just wasn’t a lot to do.

Eight other people stood on the platform, waiting for the train. Miho and Ren held back, lingering near the entrance to the platform. They could see Chiyoko fine from where they stood. Nothing could possibly happen to her there, with other train riders around. Yet something troubled Miho, making her pulse quicken. The small hairs on the back of her neck bristled and she peered around her at every narrow corner and closed-off exit. The lights on the platform were dim and flickering, and only served to make the dark places darker. Something didn’t feel right.

“We should go. It would be too obvious if we followed them onto the train. They would want to know why we were stalking them. And since we don’t have any idea where they’re going … we really should just go back,” Ren said, and backed up a step, looking to her to follow.

Miho grabbed his wrist. “Wait until the train comes.”

“Why—”

“Please, let’s just wait.” She glanced around again, nudging Ren into the dome of light thrown by a wanly gleaming bulb above. Beyond the edges of that circle of light, the dark seemed to insinuate itself, moving nearer, closing in around her like the inexorable creep of the tide coming in.

The shriek of the train’s brakes, so much like a scream, made her flinch. Her heart pounded. Somehow she hadn’t heard the train coming.

“Are you all right?” Ren asked, squeezing her hand.

She smiled to give him a reassurance she did not feel. “Yes. I’m sorry. The tension is terrible, that’s all.”

As they watched, the people waiting on the platform all boarded the train, including Chiyoko and her friend. For just an instant before she vanished into the train’s interior, Chiyoko glanced back and caught Miho’s eyes. A flicker of recognition sparked there, and curiosity.

Chiyoko gave a little wave.

Miho waved back.

Then the train doors closed with an irritating
pinging
noise, and started to pull out of the station, airflow gusting around it. She and Ren waited until the train had departed, and then Miho felt him exhale beside her.

“That’s all we can do tonight, I guess.”

When Miho spoke, it came as a surprise to her. She hadn’t even been aware of intending to do so until she heard her own voice.

“Ren,” she said.