Something had slithered in the grass. Soft hissing began, mixed with hitching breaths that might have been quiet laughter. She’d frozen and turned, her eyes struggling to adjust to the night. Against the wall of the school she could barely make out a patch of darkness deeper than night. At first she thought it was a person, a woman maybe, from the hair, but then it moved ever so slowly, inching nearer, and turned its head, and she saw the monstrous silhouette of its face, ridged and smooth, jaws opening wide, the tiniest glint of moonlight catching on the wet, black spikes of its teeth. It wanted her. She felt that very keenly.
The hissing noise issued from its open mouth, and Miho screamed. Letting out a stream of swears and pleas, she had run, careening out of control along the side of the school, just above the parking lot, and then emerged into the golden glow of the moon and collided into Hachiro.
And what if he hadn’t been there? she thought now, alone in bed. What if Kara and Hachiro had not been around? Where would you be now?
Her eyes opened and she stared over at Sakura, who slept so soundly in her bed. Miho clenched her jaw tight, unwilling to say her roommate’s name, though she longed for company, for someone to talk to. It confused and frustrated her that she felt so grateful to her friends, when the curse that nearly claimed her tonight had been Sakura’s fault to begin with. If not for her…
That’s not fair, she thought, stopping herself, biting her lip, fighting tears. She turned her back on Sakura’s sleeping form. Miho loved Kara, and Sakura was her best friend in the world. It had been friendship and loyalty that led to her being cursed-to the curse upon them all-and how could she blame Sakura, when it had really all begun with Akane’s murder?
With a sigh, Miho shifted her legs, trying to find a comfortable position, and closed her eyes again. She wished for her mother, and the very wishing filled her with a deep melancholy. In the spring, she had faced evil. Real, true evil. But she had been with her friends at the time, and they had survived. Never during that experience had she wished for her mother. But tonight she had been alone out there, and the thing had been chasing her.
Not that her mother would bother coming to visit. Miho hated to complain about her parents, since Sakura’s were so much worse. They actively disliked her, and didn’t want anything to do with her. The Murakamis had sent Akane and Sakura off to boarding school to be rid of them, and cared so little that when Akane had been murdered, they had left Sakura there. Miho knew that her own parents didn’t hate her, or want to be rid of her, necessarily. They hadn’t put that much thought into it.
No, her mother wouldn’t be coming. Until morning, at least, the only thing keeping her safe was Sakura’s presence and the little light burning at the end of her bed. As these thoughts settled deeply into her mind, Miho wondered what might have happened to her, and where Daisuke and Wakana were now. They had all discussed it-she and Sakura, Kara and Hachiro-and they all hoped the two had really run away like young lovers in some teen romance manga story.
But the connections were there.
Daisuke and Wakana were part of the Noh club. They had been involved in the upcoming production of Dojoji, and so was Miho. Whatever had been out there in the dark, it had chosen the Noh club as its prey. But what the hell was it? Kyuketsuki had laid the curse upon them with carefully chosen words, summoning whatever remained of the supernatural in Japan to plague them. It could be anything, but then why focus on the Noh club?
Again she closed her eyes, and the hissing remained with her, like a snake.
With a sharp intake of breath, she opened her eyes. Her fingers could still remember the shape of each of the masks she had been working on for Dojoji, including the demon spirit who took such horrid vengeance on several of the major characters.
The serpent-woman, Hannya.
In the glow of that small light, Miho prayed.
The Hannya, Kara thought, standing in the kitchen with a glass of pineapple juice in her hand. The small window over the sink gave her a view into the street and she stared out at the house across from theirs. A quiet night. All of Miyazu City would be sleeping perfectly well tonight, except for Daisuke’s parents, Kara and her father, and Miho, of course.
By now, Miho would have figured it out.
She took a sip of juice, relishing its sweetness, and listened to the darkened kitchen for sounds that didn’t belong there. The hum of electricity. The creak of old wood, shifting in the wind. Nothing out of place at all. But Kara felt like a jolt of electricity had shot through her and was racing around inside her veins on some endless loop.
The Hannya. Really, it made a weird kind of sense. Unintended ritual had summoned Kyuketsuki, beginning with the murder of Akane, followed by Sakura’s rage and grief and Ume’s guilt. Then the curse of Kyuketsuki had called out to the lingering remnants of ancient evil in Japan and focused its attention on her, Sakura, and Miho. The curse had made them a kind of magnet. The Hannya would likely come for her and Sakura eventually, but for the moment it seemed to be following its own instincts, which was to prey upon those who’d summoned it-the Noh club. Miho met both criteria, so she was doubly in danger.
Kara set her glass down on the counter, frowning. Those who’d summoned it. Miss Aritomo had chosen the play to begin with. She would be in danger as well.
Something had to be done. The trouble was that they had no proof of anything-no evidence that Daisuke and Wakana had not run away, or that the Hannya existed. The only reason that Kara even knew the story was because Miss Aritomo had chosen Dojoji for her first Noh production at the school. Even then, Kara probably never would have read the play itself except that she and Sakura had thought it would make a good manga and had started to do the research to prepare.
No one would believe them. But in Sakura and Miho’s room-with Hachiro watching for her father’s car down in the lobby-Kara and the girls had agreed on a course of action. Ever since, she had been trying to think of another plan, but they weren’t characters in a manga-schoolgirls turned demon hunters or something. The Hannya was real, and none of them wanted to meet it face-to-face.
Just do it, she thought. Follow the plan.
With a sigh, she rinsed her glass and left it in the sink, crossing the darkened kitchen and living room.
Step one.
As Kara entered his room, her father looked up from making notes on a pad. He seemed surprised to see her there, and that made her sad and frustrated with him all over again.
“What is it, honey?” he asked in Japanese.
“Something happened tonight,” she replied.
His eyes widened as he sat up, and she knew all sorts of unpleasant things must be rushing through his head. Had Hachiro done something to her? Had she and the girls gotten into trouble?
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Kara smiled. Whatever else she might be feeling toward her father, she knew he loved her.
“Home safe and sound, as you can see,” she said. Then she grew serious. “But Miho almost didn’t make it home. After she came here looking for me, someone followed her, Dad. Somebody chased her. If Hachiro and I hadn’t been out in front of the dorm, whoever it was might have gotten her.”
For several seconds, his expression was immobile. Granite. Then he slid out of bed, came over to her, kissed her forehead, and held her close. Kara wanted to pull away-the two of them still had things to work out-but now wasn’t the time.
“That’s why you needed a ride home?”
She nodded.
“Did Miho get a look at the person chasing her?”
“Not a good one,” Kara replied.
Her father took a deep breath and went to his window. From there he could see the pagoda shape of the school in the distance.
“Miho’s in the Noh club,” she went on. “So were Daisuke and Wakana.”