Kara’s mind raced. “That can’t be coincidence. The Hannya’s hiding inside her, we know that, but it’s obviously controlling her actions, too. At least some of the time.”
“Yes, but is it just influencing her,” Ren asked, “or does it take over in there? When we’re talking to Aritomo-sensei, is she answering, or is the Hannya?”
“That’s crazy,” Mai said.
“Also the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Hachiro said. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“But how did it possess her in the first place, and why her?” Sakura asked.
“The story is about jealousy,” Mai said. “Who is Aritomo-sensei jealous of?”
Hachiro and Sakura looked at Kara, who immediately understood their suspicion. It made sense, in a bizarre sort of way. Miss Aritomo had taken an interest in her father, maybe wanted to get closer to him, but his first love and loyalty belonged to his daughter. It would be natural for the woman to be a little jealous of their closeness. Envious.
Would it have been enough to give the Hannya a way in? An invitation? Maybe. And they would probably never know.
Kara threw up her hands. “Look, there’s no point in debating this. How it got inside her isn’t nearly as important as finding a way to get it out.”
“Agreed,” Ren said.
Hachiro reached out and touched Kara’s shoulder. She turned to see a gleam of epiphany in his eyes.
“Bells,” he said.
Kara got it instantly. There were bells everywhere in the school and the dorm. Japanese culture was full of them. Students hung them on backpacks and key chains and doorknobs, though most were tiny, what they called pocket bells.
“I don’t know if little ones would be enough,” Sakura said.
But Kara had begun to nod. She felt the smile before it touched her lips. “Kaneda-sensei looks after the old Shinto shrine beside the school. In June she did that re-creation of an old prayer ritual, remember?”
“She does it every year,” Ren said.
“And the bells she uses… they’re on a shelf in her classroom,” Kara went on. “Aren’t they, Hachiro?”
Hachiro clapped his hands together. “Yes. I’ve dusted them a dozen times in o-soji.”
“Wait!” Mai said. “If you’re right about the bells… and maybe you are, since she didn’t include them in the play… We can’t just burn our art teacher!”
They’d almost forgotten Mr. Yamato was there. Now he slapped a hand on the arm of his chair, the sound snapping them all to attention.
“You will do nothing,” he said, frowning deeply.
Kara stared at him. “But you said-”
“Yes, I believe you,” he interrupted. “But if all you surmise is correct, Kara, your father is in no danger. He is not one of the cursed, nor is he a part of the play Aritomo-sensei wanted to stage. No, you will all stay here with me. I will phone the police. When they arrive, you will relate everything to them, just as you have to me, and I will support you.”
“What?” Hachiro said, standing. “Sensei, they won’t believe a word of it.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Yamato said. “But the men I have dealt with know that they have not been able to unravel the mysteries that have plagued us this year. This explanation is only slightly less plausible than the wild bear story they told the newspapers in the spring. If they don’t want me to make my own calls to the newspapers, they will listen to you, and then they will go to Aritomo-sensei and question her, and search her home. It may be that the missing students are there, if they are still alive-”
“Miho,” Sakura said softly.
“But the police must be the ones to deal with this. I cannot allow any of you to put yourselves in further danger.”
For several seconds, no one spoke. Hachiro shifted awkwardly on his feet. Sakura whispered Kara’s name, a question, and then all of them were looking at her.
Kara stood, shaking her head. “No. I’m sorry, Yamato-sensei. That will take too long. We’ll go to her house ourselves. If the others are there, we’ll rescue them. And if Aritomo-sensei is there… we’ll have the answers we’re looking for. I only hope you’re right about my father.”
She and Hachiro turned to leave and the others started to rise to follow them. Kara’s thoughts were already running ahead, wondering how quickly they could gather the bells they would need, and thinking also about the story of Dojoji, about the monks, and the role that masks played in Noh theater.
“Stop!” Mr. Yamato barked. “I forbid you to leave. You will wait for the police.”
Kara held the door open for the others. As they filed out, she turned to the principal. “I’m sorry, sensei. This is ancient evil. We don’t have time to wait for the modern world to believe in it.”
Miss Aritomo lived a mile or so from the Harpers, in a house that had been built long before World War II. Once upon a time it had been one of a handful of larger homes beyond the outskirts of the city, but Miyazu had grown over the years and sprawled outward around it. There were offices nearby, as well as a handful of shops, a sushi bar, and a laundry, but the neighborhood had gone downhill of late. The doctor’s office next door had been abandoned, a realtor’s sign in the window.
“It must have been beautiful once,” Mai said, studying the front of the house.
Sakura frowned. As far as she was concerned, the art teacher’s house had not lost any of its beauty. If anything, the ugliness of its surroundings only enhanced its elegance, though she understood why some people wouldn’t see it that way.
She and Mai stood in a small alley beside the laundry. Its windows were dark and the building silent, but the streetlights were bright and they did not want to be seen if anyone should look out the window of Miss Aritomo’s house.
Kara, Ren, and Hachiro had gone to the school. It would be locked up, but they had passed the point where locks would stop them. The police would be on their way to Mr. Yamato’s house by now, but by the time the principal explained to them what he thought was going on-or some version of the truth, at least-it might be hours before they did anything about it. Sakura thought Hachiro and Ren might balk at breaking a window to get into the school, but she knew Kara wouldn’t hesitate. Not now. But she knew that if they did that, alarms would go off, summoning the police, and those explanations would also take too long.
Fortunately, they wouldn’t have to break any windows. Sakura spent some time every day in the shadowy recessed doorway on the east side of the school. It was her quiet spot-her smoking spot. She contemplated life during those cigarette breaks, thought about the past and about the future, about her sister and their hollow, loveless parents, and the hopes and dreams she never dared discuss in detail, even with her closest friends.
She also worked to pry the lock open on the door.
It had been forgotten, that door. Locked for years, it had been painted over and ignored, an emergency exit from a time before the renovations to the school created new ones at the rear of the school and out through the gym. In fiddling with it one day, Sakura had found out that the school’s present alarm system was not wired to that door, that any wires were antiquated, and connected to nothing. All they’d need to get in was a fork or knife, anything to pry the lock.
That was the easy part.
“How long do you think it will take them?” Mai asked.
Sakura glanced at her, biting back a snippy retort. “I don’t know. If they get lucky, they’ll find enough bells right away. If not…”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Mai sighed and nodded, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
“I can’t stand just waiting here,” Mai said.
“Patience has never been one of my virtues,” Sakura replied. “But what other choice do we have? If we have any hope of stopping the Hannya-or even just getting our friends back-we need some kind of advantage.”
Mai scowled. “And you think bells will give us that advantage?”
Sakura shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. But so far, the old stories have proven to have truth in them. We can only hope that this is one of the true parts. And besides, you said yourself it didn’t seem like coincidence that Aritomo-sensei left the bells out of the play.”