“What the hell?” Kara muttered in English.
She kept ringing her bell and the others did the same as they moved closer to it. But the iron had gone suddenly cold in her hand and the thing on the floor showed no signs of its horns. All that remained of the Hannya were the head and body of a small garden snake.
“Kara!” her father snapped.
She turned to see the cloth bag containing the final Noh mask burning up. Flames rippled across the fabric, which quickly blackened. Her father raced to it and stomped on the bag until all that remained were tattered, scorched bits of cloth. Of the mask inside-the face of the Hannya-nothing remained but a coppery-hued dust.
The bells fell silent.
Sakura and Ren pulled off their masks and ran to Miho’s side. Wakana knelt by Mai, speaking softly to her. Hachiro stomped on the snake to make sure it was dead.
Kara removed her own mask and looked up into her father’s eyes, surprised to find fear there. At first she didn’t understand, and then she realized what she saw was his fear of losing her.
“Dad…”
“Quiet,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head over and over. He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I should have believed you.”
Kara shook her head. “No. You shouldn’t have. How could you?”
But he wouldn’t accept her forgiveness. “I’m your father. That’s how.”
Again he kissed the top of her head, and then he turned toward Miss Aritomo. The teacher had begun to stir. Kara’s father went to her, crouched down and slid the mask of Anchin off her face, revealing once more the beauty beneath. Kara watched the way her father looked at Miss Aritomo, the gentle way he brushed the hair from her eyes, and though she wished she could have pretended otherwise, it still hurt her, even after all they had been through. She missed her mother.
But she found now that she could find room in her heart for both the sorrow of her mother’s absence and the happiness of her father’s new hope for the future. The two emotions would not sit easily together, but for now, it would be enough.
In the distance, police sirens wailed.
Otherwise, Miss Aritomo’s house had fallen silent.
EPILOGUE
They met, strangely enough, at Kara’s house. She thought that perhaps Mr. Yamato had decided he didn’t want to talk about demon spirits in his own home, and he certainly couldn’t have held the gathering at his office without people asking questions he would be unwilling to answer.
The house proved a better choice anyway. Miss Aritomo obviously felt more comfortable there, which was no small thing, considering how traumatized she was. The woman sat primly on the love seat beside Kara’s father, and he held both of her small, birdlike hands in his own. She didn’t look up often, and had spoken not a word from the moment Mr. Yamato had arrived. Kara’s father had told her that Miss Aritomo had spoken to the police, but that otherwise she had said little in the days since the horror that had unfolded in her living room.
It hurt her heart to look at Miss Aritomo, and to think of how hard she had made it for her father to fall in love with someone who wasn’t her mother. Kara regretted all of that now. Miss Aritomo had always been kind to her, and now the woman had gone through a terrible ordeal, her body violated by something awful. Something… evil. Kara felt awkward even thinking the word, but there could be no denying the Hannya’s nature.
Miss Aritomo needed someone to hold her now, and Kara found herself glad that her father could be that person. It would still be hard to share him, but she knew that she and her father would get through it all together. They needed to have their own lives, but they had to support each other, too. If they didn’t, who would?
“You can’t be serious!” Mai snapped, staring at Mr. Yamato.
The principal’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed a tight little line. “You are upset, girl, so I will forgive your insolence.”
But Mai only shook her head in amazement and turned to Wakana. The roommates stood with their arms linked together not far from the door, as though they might flee the house at any moment. Wakana still looked drawn and pale, though her bruises and scratches were fading. Mai, on the other hand, had a long recovery ahead of her. Doctors had put a cast on her broken arm and she wore it now in a sling. Of greater concern was the long gash on her right cheek, which had been stitched closed as deftly as her surgeon could manage. Even with plastic surgery, the scar would be significant.
“I don’t want your forgiveness, nor do I need it,” Mai said, turning back toward the principal. “We are not in school, Yamato-sensei-”
Mr. Yamato’s eyes blazed with quiet fury. “But you are still a student of Monju-no-Chie school, girl. For the moment.”
Kara knew she had to step in. She took a deep breath, glancing around the room at her friends who had gathered there. Sakura sat with a bandaged and bruised Miho on the floor. Ren had pulled a chair over from the dining table and taken a seat, while Hachiro stood behind him, hands on the back of the chair. The way he stood, he seemed almost to expect trouble. He kept glancing at Kara, checking over and over again to make sure she was all right. She liked the way those protective glances made her feel, and discovered that the instinct had become mutual. Later, when the meeting had broken up, they would go for a walk together and talk about what the future held for them. She had a feeling there would be lots of walks for them, many places they would wander together. But not by the bay. The time had come to make a new path, together. They would ramble in the hills and mountains around the city, explore the other beauties that Miyazu had to offer.
Soon. It was a promise she had made to herself.
“Please, stop,” Kara said, holding up her hands.
They all looked at her. Even Miss Aritomo lifted her sad gaze to see what Kara had to say. Mr. Yamato turned to her with the same glare he’d given Mai.
Kara gave the principal a small, informal bow. “Yamato-sensei, you must realize that it is not for our own sake that we argue. If you go along with the story the police have concocted-the latest in a series of ridiculous lies-no one will ever know what really happened.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Kara, honey, that’s the point. That’s what we want.”
She shook her head. “No, Dad, it isn’t.” Again she glanced around at her friends. Hachiro and Miho both nodded to urge her on. “People need to know so they can be on guard.”
“On guard against what?” Mr. Yamato shouted. “It’s over!”
Miss Aritomo flinched and shifted closer to Kara’s father, the loud noise troubling her.
“But what if it isn’t?” Ren asked quietly.
“’What if?’” Sakura said, throwing up her hands. “We know it isn’t over!”
“You don’t know that,” Kara’s father said. Mr. Yamato started to speak up, but Rob Harper raised a hand to forestall any interruption and kept talking. “I know, I know. The curse. But you’ve said yourselves that Kyuketsuki told you there were few… what, demons? Ancient spirits? Old gods? Whatever they are. You said there weren’t many left in the world. How do we know any others will ever make their way here? It took the Hannya months, and even then, it might never have found the entry point it needed if Miss Aritomo had not had that mask on her wall. She-”
“Sssssshhhh,” the art teacher said, putting a finger to his lips. “Please. Don’t.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face and then Kara’s father fell silent. Miss Aritomo didn’t like to talk about the Hannya. Kara couldn’t blame her.
Mr. Yamato cleared his throat. “Months. Harper-sensei is correct. There is no way to predict what might happen. It is possible no other
… entity will ever trouble you again.”