A Winter of Ghosts

Chapter Six

Sakura lay in bed, tryingdesperately to fall back to sleep. After dinner, with Kara gone, she and Mihohad come back to their room and tried to read a while. Miho was about a hundredpages into the fattest novel she had ever seen, while Sakura had sought comfortin her favorite manga series, Cherry Blossoms. Both of them had fallenasleep reading, emotionally and physically drained, but Sakura had woken justafter one o'clock and had spent the better part of the last hour attempting todrift off again.

No such luck.

Frustrated, she turned over forwhat felt like the hundredth time, facing the windows. The night had anuncommon brightness, moonlight reflecting off of snow to create its ownillumination. Once upon a time she would have thought it magical, beautiful,but the experiences of the past year had changed her. Now what others mighthave seen as beauty struck her as eerie and unsettling. It seemed like theperfect weather for ghosts.

Sakura closed her eyes and letout a long breath, steadying herself. Her eyes burned and her head felt as ifit were stuffed with cotton; she needed to sleep. But her brain was notcooperating, her thoughts racing ahead, not prepared to shut down againtonight.

Had her friends really seenghosts? Whatever Hachiro had seen on the train, had it really been Jiro, orjust some phantom image of him left in the world like the lights she saw behindher eyes after a camera flashed. Kara and Miho — even Wakana — hadseen ghosts, too, and somehow Sakura felt cheated. But mostly she just wantedto know if they were truly the spirits of the dead, or just some. . echo.. of the time those people had spent in the world.

What were ghosts, really?

Sakura sighed and turned over,turning her back to the windows and burrowing deeper under her covers. Everysound seemed louder in the dark, even Miho's soft breathing. She could hearelectricity humming in the walls and the steady ticking noise of the heatingpipes in the old building. Instead of trying to shut the sounds out shewelcomed them, attempted to make them her lullaby.

Slowly, her awareness began toblur, all of the edges of the world growing soft. Sleep coalesced around herand as Sakura began to doze at last, she felt grateful for its gift.

But then she felt a burst ofwarmth against the back of her neck, her skin prickling as she stiffened. Hereyelids were heavy with sleep, now, but she forced them open. Something hadshifted in the room, the air itself changing and gaining a strange weight. Shefelt sure, suddenly, that someone was watching her, could feel the focus ofattention upon her like added gravity.

She listened intently, thinkingthat Miho had gotten out of bed and now stood behind her, staring in silence. Butshe could still hear the soft almost-snore coming from her roommate's bed onthe other side of the room.

Sakura turned over and sat up,eyes wide, heart pounding in her chest. Every detail in the room could bediscerned in the wash of winter moonlight, but nothing was there that did notbelong. Miho still slept. Everything remained in its place. The tatami mats onthe floor were undisturbed.

She shivered, looking around."Hello?" she whispered into the shadows.

But whatever she had felt therehad gone, if it had ever been there at all.

That did it. She had managed toget through the entire day without a cigarette, but now she had to have one. Sakuraknew it was an addiction, had never denied it, but had usually managed to keepherself from needing to smoke. Now she felt compelled as never before. Sheclimbed out of bed, pulled on the sweatshirt she'd worn earlier, and borrowedMiho's boots, since her own were still soaked through.

Slipping her coat on, pattingthe pockets to make sure her cigarettes were still there, she went out into thecorridor, closing the door as quietly as possible behind her. If any of theteachers caught her she would definitely be punished, unless it was a fellowsmoker who would take pity on her.

None of that mattered. Sheneeded to walk and smoke and think.

Sakura descended the stairs insilence. This was far from the first time she had encountered trouble sleepingand decided to walk the grounds, and she had learned that the small check-indesk in the foyer tended to be abandoned between midnight and six a.m. Theschool relied on their students' adherence to the rules of conduct, counting onthem not to want to bring dishonor to their families. Foolish, really. Sakurawas far from the only student who had parents she would not mind embarrassing.

Even as the thought crossed hermind, however, she hesitated. Her mother and father had been very differentover the winter break. They had first astonished her by seeming glad to see herwhen she arrived home. Her mother had actually embraced her, and that nightwhen she had gone to bed, her father had kissed the top of her head. Oninstinct she had nearly cracked a joke about aliens replacing her real parents,but for once she had bitten her tongue. Cynical as she might be, she had notwanted to drive them away again.

They had been distant even whenAkane was alive, but after her murder they had seemed intent upon forgettingthey even had a second daughter, and frustrated when she did anything to remindthem. Now that seemed to have changed. All three of them still grieved the lossof Akane, but she thought they might be able to do it together from now on.

Sakura found the foyer as darkand abandoned as she had expected. The school seriously needed a securityupgrade, but she hoped they did not figure that out until she had graduated. Sometimesshe needed to get out of there.

Patting her pockets to make sureshe had keys, cigarettes, and her lighter, she slipped out, making sure thedoor locked behind her. The last of the storm had long since passed and, thoughit was quite cold, the wind had died completely. The night was crisp and cold,but so very still. Her footfalls upon the moonlit snow were the only sounds sheheard as she crossed the field between the dorm and the school.

On the east side of the school,perhaps thirty feet separated the building from the tree line, and the nightusually transformed it into a tunnel of darkness. Tonight, however, themoonlight shining off of the fresh snow illuminated even that dark alleyway. Shepassed the ancient prayer shrine tucked against the trees. On the left was arecessed doorway, long since painted over and forgotten, that had become herfavorite smoking spot. But she surprised herself by walking right past it andaround the front of the building.

Monju-no-Chie school stood on aslight hill which sloped downward to the shore of Miyazu Bay. Sakura stuckclose to the line of trees at the edge of the school's property as she walkeddown to the water, passing the place where — more than a year before — students had made a different kind of shrine to remember her sister.

Akane had been murdered righthere on the shore. Sakura could not walk down to the bay — or even glanceat this spot — without picturing the savage beating that the police saidher sister had received. Akane had been forced under the water, drowned righthere. And yet it had never occurred to Sakura's parents the torment to whichthey consigned her, leaving her at this school, where she would run thishideous scenario through her mind every single day.

Not that she would have wishedto go elsewhere. Sakura felt at home here, and loved her friends. But Akane'smurder always felt fresh to her, no matter how much time had passed. She hadlet go of the rage toward her sister's killer, helped by the fact that Ume wasno longer at Monju-no-Chie school, but she had not forgiven the girl, and neverwould. And her sorrow remained.

Yet she alone, among all of herfriends, had not seen a ghost.

Sakura took out a cigarette andlit it. The tip flared a bright orange and then dimmed to an ember's glow. Shedrew smoke into her lungs and then exhaled, smoke mixing with the mist of herwarm breath in the cold air.

"Are you there?" shesaid, speaking softly in the dark.

The only answer came from thelapping of the bay upon the shore. No ghosts revealed themselves to her.

It didn't seem fair.

Hachiro had never been so cold.

He huddled on the ground withhis knees drawn up beneath him, his back against a thick tree trunk. Twiceduring the long afternoon he had found the strength to force himself to hisfeet and he had tried to run, but both times she had caught him. Her touch hadbeen as light as a breeze, but it froze him rigid, as though ice had formed onhis bones. In his mind he could picture ice floes forming on the surface of ariver, the water slowing and then ceasing altogether, and he knew that shecould have done the same to his blood.

Winter had such beauty, and yetit could be fierce. Winter could kill so easily.

The Woman in White had a touchof winter, but her gaze was far worse. It had drained his will, turned him intolittle more than a puppet, a marionette held up by icicle strings. Twice he hadmanaged to summon enough willpower to break those strings, to attempt escape,but now he had used the last vestiges of that will, and the last of his hope.

The tree against his back wasthe only thing he trusted, now. The only thing that did not seem intent uponmaking him suffer. The rest of the world was winter. Moonlight streamed throughthe bare branches above, making long finger-shadows that seemed to reach forhim across the snow. His body felt stiff and if he shifted even an inch, hisbones ached so much he feared the marrow had frozen. Hachiro felt brittle, asthough a fall or a blow might shatter him.

Safer, then, to stay right here.

Hachiro's teeth chattered andhis whole body shook from the cold. When he closed his eyes, the lids andeyelashes stuck together, threatening to freeze. His hair was frosted with ice,his pants covered with a coating of snow that clung to the fabric, almost asthough the winter hoped to consume him, draw him down into the snow and makehim a part of it forever.

The night seemed to go onforever.

He thought of his parents andwondered if he would ever see them again. In his heart, he knew the answer, andit filled him with grief, as much for them as for himself. He thought of Karaand knew that she must be terrified for him. Hachiro would have given anythingto have been able to hold her, to touch her hair and whisper softly to her, totell her it would be all right.

But it wouldn't be.

Even now, he could hear Rencrying, begging to be set free. Hachiro hated himself because he could not makehis legs work, could not make himself stand and fight, could not save Ren fromthe Woman in White.

She did not want Hachiro towatch. It had been she who placed him here, against this tree, facing into thewoods and the cross-hatching of moonshadows that spread across the snow.

Ren called his name.

Hachiro closed his eyes, wishinghe could close his ears as well, and his heart. Instead he forced himself totry again to move, and was surprised to find that he had the power to turn hishead. A spark of hope rose within him and he took a moment to muster hisstrength and his courage before twisting around to see, to help. But as hetried to get his feet beneath him, his body would not obey him. The Woman inWhite had sapped his will and the cold had sapped his strength. He realizedthat he could no longer feel his feet, or his lower legs. His hands were likeclubs, no longer even connected to his body.

He lay on his side in the snow,unable to move even to lift himself into a sitting position again. He managedto twist his head to keep his face out of the snow, and there in the moonlightand winter shadows, he saw the Woman in White. Her beauty stole his breathaway.

She stood just a few feet awayfrom Ren, who floated above the ground, tossed to and fro by the winds that shecontrolled. Snow whipped at him, turning him round and round, toying with him. Hachirohad thought of himself as a marionette, but the Woman in White had turned Reninto a real puppet, and now she made him dance even as she caressed him withthe wind and the snow at her command.

"Beautiful,"she whispered. "So beautiful."

Hachiro closed his eyes and theicy grip of winter carried him down into the darkness.

On Tuesday morning, Kara woke tothe sound of the doorbell. She squinted against the sunshine that floodedthrough her window as she dragged herself out of bed, and when she lookedoutside and saw the lovely, gauzy blue sky, a terrible guilt descended uponher. How could she have slept so soundly, so well, when Hachiro might be dead? Hemight be frozen, like Sora, still lost upon that mountain, and she had manageda wonderful, restorative sleep without a single nightmare.

She leaned her forehead againstthe window, staring out at the bay across the street, and the cold glass numbedher skin. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her. She could so easily crawl backinto bed and succumbed to her fear for Hachiro and her guilt at leaving himbehind.

But he would still be lost.

No, something had to be done. Aglance at the clock told her it was just after eight o'clock. Searchers wouldalready be starting up the mountain, spreading out, looking behind every treeand in every hollow. The urge to be among them, to be up on that mountainlooking for him herself, was powerful. But if she believed there was somethingother than nature at work here — and she could not deny it seemedprobable — then the best way for her to help him was to figure out what,exactly, that might be, and figure out how to combat it.

When impossible things had firstbegun to happen to her — terrifying, supernatural things — she hadfelt more alone than she ever had before. But slowly others began to getinvolved, to learn the truth, and now Kara did not have to face this byherself.

Pulling on a robe, she left herbedroom. In the kitchen she found her father and Miss Aritomo embracing, Yuuka'scheek pressed against his chest as if she were listening to his heartbeat. Karafroze, hating to disturb their intimacy, but as she began to take a stepbackward a creaking floorboard gave her away and her father looked up.

"Good morning, sweetheart,"he said, as he and Miss Aritomo broke their embrace.

"Sorry to interrupt,"Kara said sheepishly.

"You're not interrupting,"Yuuka said, smiling. "You live here, remember?"

Kara returned her smile. Onceshe had thought of Miss Aritomo as an intruder, but now she liked it when shewas with them. Kara knew she would never be able to think of Yuuka as hermother, even if her father ended up marrying her, but she felt a certaincomfort when the three of them were together. It felt like family.

They had breakfast together andKara helped them clean up afterward. By the time she had showered, dressed, anddried her hair, Mr. Yamato had arrived and Miho and Sakura were both there,helping to set out cups for tea. In the eyes of her friends she saw her ownfears reflected back at her. They were all suffering from frayed nerves, and sothere was little of the usual polite chatter as they waited for the finalattendee to arrive for the meeting Mr. Yamato had called.

After the events the past springthat had led up to Kara and her friends being cursed by Kyuketsuki, she hadbeen astounded by the utter incompetence of the Miyazu police. They seemed tohave an absurd explanation for every inexplicable thing and to willfully ignoreany information that would have cast those explanations in doubt. Only after theirencounter with the Hannya in the early fall did she realize that the policewere not stupid, they were simply deceitful.

The Miyazu police had understoodthat supernatural forces were at work in their city, and they had worked tocover it up as completely as possible, swearing to secrecy everyone involvedwith Monju-no-Chie school who knew anything about it. And Mr. Yamato hadsupported those efforts completely. They police did not want to terrify thepeople unnecessarily, or to lose face by publicly acknowledging something thatmany would never believe, and for which they would be mocked without mercy. Mr.Yamato merely wanted to make sure the parents of his students did not panic andwithdraw their children from the school.

As long as there was no danger,they demanded silence and secrecy.

But now Sora was dead, and Mr.Yamato was no fool. The boy had been frozen solid in the middle of a freaksnowstorm, and there had been talk of ghosts, which must have gotten back tohim as well. Kara assumed her father had told the principal about the ghosts. Theyhad all vowed to inform him and the police if they encountered anythingremotely supernatural, anything that might indicate that Kyuketsuki's curse haddrawn yet another evil entity to Miyazu City.

And now. . ghosts.

At half past nine, on the dot,the doorbell rang. Her father answered the door and led the policeman into thedining room to join them. Tea had not yet been served; they had been waitingupon this grim man. They had all met Captain Nobunaga before, but he did notgreet them as friends. The policeman gave them a small, formal bow and waitedto be invited to sit. His uniform was crisp, his graying hair clipped short,and his lips seemed eternally pursed in an expression of disapproval. He andhis colleagues in the Miyazu City police department did not enjoy having anyopen discussion of such things as ghosts and curses, which was likely why themeeting was being held here, in the Harper home, and why the captain had comealone.

Over tea, the girls told thestory of the previous day's storm. Kara told Captain Nobunaga what Hachiro hadtold her about seeing Jiro's ghost, and about the apparition of Sora that sheand Miho had seen on the mountain the day before, and how she had been certainthat the boy was dead, even then. Though she felt embarrassed at showing thedepth of her feelings for Hachiro in front of the principal and the policeman,she revealed her belief that Hachiro and Ren were alive. If they were dead, shesuspected that their ghosts would have appeared as well.

Miho related the news thatWakana believed she had seen Daisuke's ghost on the mountain, just before thestorm. Sakura remained strangely quiet during all of this storytelling, butwhen Kara shot questioning glances in her direction, she only nodded for themto continue.

When all of the tales had beentold, that shifting, nervous silence returned to the house. No one seemed towant to begin to dissect what they had learned or to be the first to suggestexplanations. Captain Nobunaga glanced around at each of them in turn, lettinghis gaze linger on Kara for a moment, and then he turned to Mr. Yamato.

"Has anything happened todirectly link these 'ghosts' — if that is what they were — to thecurse of Kyuketsuki?" the policeman asked, his words clipped and sharp.

Mr. Yamato gave a single shakeof his head. "No."

"Not yet," MissAritomo added, her voice firm.

Kara loved her for that. Thepolice were so used to denying things they did not want to have to deal with,but Yuuka had no intention of letting the captain explain this all away.

"With all due respect,Captain," her father added, "you asked us to keep you informedwhenever anything. . unnatural. . occurred."

Captain Nobunaga nodded. "Yes,Harper-san. But other than these 'ghost sightings,' there is no indication thatanything supernatural is at work here. The young man, Hachiro, saw a boy wholooked like his dead friend on the train. He was apparently half-asleep at thetime."

"But Kara and Miho both saw-" Sakura started, angrily.

Mr. Yamato shot her a hard lookthat silenced her. Her rudeness reflected poorly on him as her schoolprincipal, whether the captain had earned it or not.

"They were and exhaustedand already had the suggestion of ghosts in their minds from the story Hachirohad told them," the policeman said. Then he waved a hand in the air asthough erasing the words. "I assure you, I am not entirely discounting thepossibility of a supernatural explanation for all of this. I simply think wecannot assume one exists without further exploration."

"What of the storm?" Professor Harper asked. "I know that violent changes in weather and freakstorms are not unheard of, but those of us who were on the mountain yesterday feltsomething."

Kara shot her father a look. Thiswas new information. He must have talked to Mr. Yamato and Miss Aritomo aboutit, but had not mentioned it to her. Protecting me, she thought, bothloving him for it and frustrated with him at the same time.

"A feeling is not evidence,Harper-san," Captain Nobunaga said. "And even if the girls did seeghosts, that does not mean that what happened on the mountain is supernatural. Theboys were lost in a blizzard. The one you have found, Sora, is already thesecond to die in such a fashion this winter."

Kara realized he was talkingabout the woman who had frozen to death in the first storm of the season. Sheglanced at Miho and Sakura and saw that they had both reacted to the captain'swords.

"Could her death berelated?" Kara asked.

"How do you mean?" thepoliceman said.

Mr. Yamato quietly cleared histhroat. "Captain, it does seem a bit unusual. I have lived in Miyazu Cityfor a quarter century and have never heard of anyone freezing to death in asnowstorm, on a mountain or otherwise."

The principal glanced at MissAritomo. "Some of us have encountered demons before. That is why we arehere together now, after all. And there are winter demons, are there not? Spiritsof ice and snow?"

Miss Aritomo began to nod, andthen her eyes widened.

"What is it, Yuuka?" Kara'sfather asked worriedly.

The woman's gaze dropped. "Ican't believe it didn't occur to me before," she said, and then looked upat Mr. Yamato. "But you've already guessed, haven't you?"

The principal cocked his head,studying her. "There are many different legends, stories about variousspirits. But I was thinking of one in particular, yes. These boys have gonemissing in a snowstorm. How could I not think of the childhood stories I readabout Yuki-Onna?"

Kara frowned. She had neverheard the name before. But it seemed obvious to her that Sakura and Miho knewit well. They looked confused and then almost amused.

"Yuki-Onna is only a story,"Sakura said.

"So was the Hannya,"Mr. Yamato replied.

Kara thought they all shudderedat that.

"What is Yuki-Onna?" she asked. "I don't. . can one of you tell me, please?"

To her surprise, it was herfather who spoke. "I've read the story, or one version of it, at least. Yuki-Onnais the Lady of the Snows. She's sometimes referred to as a witch or a demon — "

"Like in The Snow Queen,"Kara said.

"She is a popular figure inJapanese stories," Miss Aritomo said, her eyes haunted, her face pale, asthough she might be sick at any moment. "But my favorite version of hertale is one of the rarest, an ancient story in which a woman is killed by thewinter's first snow — "

Kara gasped. "Oh my God."

Miss Aritomo nodded and went on." — and the spirit of winter joins its essence with the ghost of thedead woman, inhabiting her corpse and transforming it from within to become Yuki-Onna,the Lady of the Snows. The Woman in White."

They were all staring at her asif entranced, and Kara realized that none of them had known this variation onthe legend.

The policeman broke the trance,rising quickly to his feet. He pulled out his cell phone and hit a singlebutton, speed-dialing.

"This is Captain Nobunaga. Sendsomeone to the family grave of Etsoku Reizei immediately," he said intothe phone, turning to regard the others in the room. Kara thought even thecaptain's eyes look haunted.

"Why?" he said. "Tellhim I want to know if the urn containing her ashes is still there."