Spirits of the Noh

9

M ai had always loved the Toro Nagashi Festival, and today had been the perfect day for it, hot and breezy. The beach on Ama-no-Hashidate had come alive with people. Really, she thought, it was the people who had come alive. Even the normally sedate adults had seemed to laugh more, and swim more, and play more. She’d seen mothers and fathers tossing brightly colored beach balls to their toddlers and older couples splashing in the shallows. Faces that were usually buttoned up and serious had discovered their smiles, as if everyone over thirty had sipped one glass of wine too many before coming down to watch the fireworks. It should have made her happy to see them.

And perhaps it would have, if she had been able to stop thinking about Daisuke and Wakana, or if her soccer club friends had allowed their mouths to fall silent for just five minutes. Was it so much to ask? Mai had never been the most talkative among them, but it wasn’t just the talking that bothered her. They gossiped and complained, and when they weren’t doing either of those things, they talked about shopping and clothes and boys, and other things of little real consequence.

I miss you, Ume, she thought.

An elbow nudged her. Mai had been sitting on the sand, knees drawn up to her chest, watching the lanterns float out on the water. Seven o’clock had come and gone and the day had begun to slip away. Dusk spread its wings across the sky. The paper lanterns were beautiful in the twilight, the lights burning within them brighter and brighter as twilight deepened.

The nudge came again. She turned and looked at Emi, who sat beside her wearing a mischievous grin. The square glasses perched on her nose made her look far more intelligent than she had ever managed to be.

“Wouldn’t you like to trade places with her?” Emi said.

Beyond her, tall Kaori-probably the best soccer player in the club-snickered in agreement. The girls were focused on a twentyish couple who were chest deep in the water, wrapped around one another, kissing languorously. What had drawn their attention, no doubt, was the lean, muscular physique of the guy and the way he held his girlfriend or wife or whatever-crushed to him as though he could mold her like clay. And maybe he could. But that sort of guy had never appealed to her.

Mai smiled politely, but said nothing. Emi rolled her eyes and went back to whispering to Kaori. Mai didn’t mind at all. In fact, she felt relieved. When Ume had left Monju-no-Chie school, Mai had been confused and even a little glad. They had never been the best of friends, and even Ume readily admitted she was the queen bitch of the school. She’d aspired to become that very thing. But as the reality of her departure grew closer, Mai began to realize that she would really miss Ume. Whatever else she might have been, she had been smart and confident-someone who led instead of followed.

Not that Mai wanted to be anything like her. Ume, after all, had also murdered Akane Murakami. Mai had been there. She hadn’t laid a finger on Akane, but she had witnessed the whole thing and she had never spoken of it to anyone, not even the other girls who had taken part in the beating that had turned into a killing-girls like Emi and Kaori. The guilt from that night clung like a death shroud on Mai’s heart. If she had stepped in, she might have been able to save Akane, or she might have been beaten or killed herself, and her fear had stopped her.

And if all the things that Ume had told her were true-about Sakura and Kara and Miho and the demon thing they had faced-then Akane’s murder had been the trigger for everything that followed. Mai could have prevented it all.

She had to live with that stain on her soul for the rest of her life.

Part of her penance seemed to be listening to Emi and Kaori giggle about nonsense. As much as she wished she could just quit the soccer club and walk away from these shallow girls, she had chosen to become queen bitch in Ume’s place, partially to make sure they did not get further out of control, but mostly to protect herself. The only people they treated with more venom than students they deemed less than themselves were those who’d once been their friends but no longer were.

Now she wished she could take it all back. She cared more about her roommate and Daisuke than she did about any of these girls, but she had been nasty and aloof with them a lot of the time-especially Wakana. For a while, she had comforted herself with reassurances that they would be found, that they were together, even though she had known that night when she came back to her room still wet from the shower that Wakana had not gone out the second-story window by choice. Wakana was afraid of heights.

Stop it. Stop thinking about her in the past tense.

Emi and Kaori giggled again, and she wanted to slap them. All day they had been posing when boys walked by. Now the day had cooled enough that they had closed their umbrella and even pulled on shirts and sweatshirts, but that only meant they had to find other ways to draw attention to themselves.

Mai stood up.

“Where are you going?” Kaori asked, frowning, as if Mai needed permission.

“For a walk. It’s nice this time of day, and I like seeing the lanterns. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the fireworks.”

“We’ll come!” Emi volunteered, starting to rise.

“No,” Mai said quickly.

Emi blinked, obviously hurt, and she and Kaori settled back down. The other girls weren’t paying any attention, focused more on the lanterns and the people wading into the water.

“I’m sorry,” Mai said. “I just need a few minutes to myself.”

Emi nodded once, curtly. “Of course.”

Mai felt the urge to apologize again but ignored it. She wished she hadn’t apologized the first time. Instead, she turned and walked away, soft sand shifting under her bare feet.

She had always loved the Toro Nagashi Festival, but she feared that after today, she would never be able to truly enjoy it again. Still, she walked and watched the paper lanterns sway on the surface of the bay, red and blue, green and yellow, pink and purple and white, and she thought about their symbolism. People took solace in the sight, and she understood why. The ritual gave her a sort of peace, now that she was away from the other girls. She could let her sadness show without the fear of being judged.

Mai went around a group of people watching the lanterns, stepping into the surf, and she enjoyed the feeling of the tiny ripples washing over her feet and ankles. She went on that way for a few minutes, wishing she knew what had happened to Daisuke and Wakana and wondering what would happen next.

In the failing sunlight, as day gave way to the dark of night, she looked up ahead, and saw a blond-haired white girl standing hand in hand with a big Japanese guy, the two of them intimately close. There were other gaijins on the beach, mostly tourists but some who lived in Miyazu City, so with the girl turned partly away from her, it took Mai a moment to realize she was looking at Kara Harper.

Her hands balled into fists.

“Do the different colors mean anything?” Kara asked.

At first Hachiro did not reply, and she wondered if it was a stupid question or if he was trying to come up with an answer. He squeezed her hand and nodded toward the bay. Night had arrived in full at last and the paper lanterns were lovely and ethereal in their pale colors.

“The white ones,” Hachiro said. “I’m not sure about the others, but the white ones are supposed to represent those who have died within the past year, since the last festival.”

Kara gazed out at the lanterns spread across the bay. There hadn’t seemed a vast number of white ones in comparison to the others, but now that she knew their significance, there seemed far too many.

“Another thing to remind Sakura of her sister,” she said.

Hachiro looked down at her. “I don’t think she needs any reminders.”

“No. You’re right.” Kara leaned against him, comforted by his solid presence.

“The fireworks will start soon,” Hachiro said. “Do you want to head back and join the others?”

“Not really,” she said, tilting her chin back to look up at him. “Is that horrible?”

Hachiro smiled, and for once, his grin held no trace of its familiar silliness. “Not at all. I’m enjoying just being with you. I’m glad we wandered away for a little while.”

She searched his eyes. “We haven’t had a lot of time alone together, especially lately. There are a lot of things I’ve been wanting to say to you.”

He hesitated.

“We’re here right now, Hachiro,” she went on. “You’re here, and I’m here. Maybe when this school year is over, I’ll be going back to the U.S. But maybe not. With what’s going on at school, your parents could pull you out of Monju-no-Chie without any notice. Then what? I’ve got a curse on me. A curse. But I’m still here. Right now, I’m here, standing in front of you, and there isn’t anywhere else in the world I’d rather be. Can’t you let that be enough?”

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she felt its beat pulsing throughout her body. Her face felt hot as she studied his face and she tightened her grip on his fingers. Hachiro had never looked so serious to her.

“Come on,” she said, with a nervous smile. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

Hachiro reached out with his free hand, brushed her hair from her face, and then cupped the back of her head as he lowered his mouth to kiss her. Kara began to protest, wanting a reply, and then his lips touched hers and she understood that this was his reply. He had never kissed her like this before, tender and urgent at the same time, their bodies so close, and as he broke the kiss and pulled back, she felt unsteady on her feet.

They grinned at each other.

Which was when Mai appeared, practically between them, standing ankle deep in the rippling water on the shore.

“You two seem to be enjoying yourselves,” she said, her upper lip curling. Kara thought she looked like a shark on the prowl. “It’s a shame that Wakana and Daisuke can’t be here to watch the fireworks.”

Hachiro stepped closer to Kara, as if he feared Mai might try to hurt her. “You need to leave her alone, Mai,” he said.

Mai laughed humorlessly. “Of course I do. Everyone else does. Why upset the girl who knows exactly what’s going on, and might be able to do something about it?”

Kara shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. If I thought there was anything I could do to help, I’d do it without hesitation.”

“So American, bonsai,” Mai sneered. “You’d be a hero, if only you knew who to hit.”

“What do you want from me?” Kara demanded.

But Mai had already looked out across the bay, at the soft colors of the paper lanterns eddying in the currents.

“The white ones are the most beautiful,” Mai said. “I wonder which two are Daisuke and Wakana.”

“You don’t know they’re dead!” Hachiro said.

“No?” Mai said, whirling on them. “Then where are they?”

As Kara and Hachiro stared her down, a soft thup-thup-thup filled the air, followed by loud pops of the first three firework explosions. Multicolored flowers blossomed in the night sky, cascading down like falling angels. Several others banged in the air, loud enough that Kara felt them in her chest, and the lights played myriad hues across Mai’s face.

The crowd sighed and ooh ed in appreciation, and as a huge burst of blue and gold filled the heavens, Kara saw Mai’s expression falter. Her anger shattered and crumbled, leaving only desperation and sadness behind.

“Please just tell me what you know,” Mai pleaded.

Kara took a deep breath.

And then, in between fireworks booming thunder across the sky, she heard someone call her name. The three of them turned to see Sakura, Miho, and Ren hurrying toward them. Kara and Hachiro stepped out of the surf. Miho gave Mai a quick, curious glance, but otherwise they ignored her.

“What’s wrong?” Hachiro asked as they raced up. “What happened?”

Ren’s bronze hair reflected the lights of the fireworks like metal. He pushed his head between Miho and Sakura, somehow bringing them all closer together, so he could deliver his message with greater privacy.

“There’s another kid missing,” Ren said.

Kara’s eyes went wide. She glanced at Mai, then at Miho. “Someone from Noh club?”

“It’s Yasu,” Miho said.

They all went quiet. The fireworks seemed to explode all around them. They all knew Yasu, a charming guy, the epitome of boy-coolness, quiet when he wanted to be enigmatic, He wore his hair longer than some of the girls, yet never got in trouble with Mr. Yamato for dress code violations. He had the lead role of Anchin in Dojoji.

“What do we do?” Ren asked.

Her voice almost lost in the midst of crackling fireworks, Mai spoke up. “Can I help?”

Kara could not trust her. The girl was too unstable. She looked at the others. “He was here, at the festival? He vanished from the beach?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” Sakura said. “When it got dark.”

Kara nodded. “Good. The land is so narrow here, and there’s only one way to leave.” She started hurrying up the sand, cutting through the crowd, and they all followed, Mai included. “Split up. Get into the woods. Let’s try to stop it from getting him out of here.”

“It?” Mai said, tugging her arm. “What is it?”

Kara pulled her arm away, but she did look back, meeting Mai’s frightened gaze. “We’re pretty sure it’s the Hannya.”

“But that’s just a story,” Mai said.

“What if it’s not?” Kara asked, and then she ran to catch up with the others.

She could not be certain over the sound of the fireworks, their light splashing the white sand and black pines, but she thought she heard Mai start to pray.

I have seen many boys play Anchin, but you are more beautiful than any of them.

Yasu could not speak or breathe or move. His eyes bulged and his chest burned with the need for air as its voice- her voice? -wormed its way into his brain. Shadows gathered at the corners of his eyes, but he did not think this was the ordinary darkness of the night or the black pine woods around him. No, this was unconsciousness enveloping him, perhaps death drawing him down into an abyss of eternal nothing.

Air. Please.

She had been there in the crowd beside him, so beautiful and slender, her hair gleaming blacker than black, her eyes green. She wore a gossamer dress the same ebony as her hair, the moonlight hinting at delights beneath. When he had first caught sight of her, he had inhaled sharply at encountering so fine and delicate a girl. Only a few years older than himself, she had tilted her head back and thrust out her tongue as if tasting the night, and then she’d swiveled her head to return his stare, as though she’d been aware of his attention all along. When she smiled, he lost any sense of himself. In that moment, he would have been whatever kind of fool she wished.

“Come,” she’d whispered, lips brushing past his ear as she took his hand.

Yasu gave no thought to his friends, or the fireworks that were about to start. He had followed her through the crowd. Somewhere, he heard the low, sonorous bong of a bell, and then they had reached the part of Ama-no-Hashidate where the beach gave way to the thick tangle of black pines that ran down the center of the sandbar.

The first of the fireworks had exploded behind them, finally breaking whatever trance Yasu had been in. He turned to look up at the beauty of the colors shooting through the night sky, and behind him, he’d heard a hiss.

The hands that grabbed him could not have been her hands. One folded over his mouth and nose and one wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. But then something thick and cold and rough coiled around him, squeezing, and now he felt something crack inside of him, the darkness at the edges of his vision rushing in.

Someone came into the trees, calling his name. Other voices shouted for him as well. The fireworks popped and thundered, throwing multicolored ghost lights among the pines.

Half-conscious, he felt himself being carried. Branches scratched his face and arms, but suddenly he could breathe again. Air rushed into his lungs. Still, he felt barely aware of his surroundings. His body swayed from side to side, still clutched by cold flesh. The touch was cold and rough at the same time. It flexed and shifted, and as awareness filtered back into his brain along with oxygen, he tried to turn his head, to get a look at the thing that had grabbed him. A single glimpse showed him red scales and dreadful yellow eyes, small black horns, wisps of white hair, and jaws opened so wide that they seemed capable of swallowing him whole. And teeth. He saw its teeth.

Yasu’s first instinct was to fight, but even as he bucked his body, trying to get loose, his gaze caught on a half-dead pine tree. He thrust his arms out and grabbed hold of a branch, gouging his left wrist but adrenaline overcoming all pain. His fingers closed tightly and he tore free of the creature’s grasp.

Breathing in ragged gasps, heart drumming hard, he snapped a branch off the dead pine and spun to face the thing with the yellow eyes. The woods were empty. Nothing moved. He scanned from shadow to shadow, strange colors still filtering through the branches from the fireworks high above. That single glimpse of the creature flashed in his mind and he twitched, whipped around, thought he’d seen it just out of the corner of his eye.

“Help!” he screamed. “I’m here! Help me! Anyone!”

Two seconds passed, maybe three, before he heard shouts in reply. People were looking for him. His friends, and others. After the other kids had vanished, everyone was on guard, paying extra attention. He would be-

The hiss came from his left. He twisted, wielding the branch. Soft and low, as if just beside him, he heard the slow bong of an old bell; a church bell, a funeral bell. Something darted across his field of vision, darkness against darkness, low to the ground, and the hiss came again, to his right.

The voices were coming closer, from either side now, surrounding him. They would find him. But too late.

It rose up behind him and he felt the chill of its breath like the cold of the grave, and then its rough tongue against the back of his neck.

Yasu screamed.

Fool, it said.

Kara glanced through the trees back at the beach. Many people had come up near the tree line now, peering in from the sand, wondering what the hell was going on, or knowing, but without any idea what they could do to help. Others truly had no clue, and weren’t about to be distracted from enjoying the Toro Nagashi Festival by the scrambling panic of a bunch of high school students and various adults who were lending a hand. They kept their backs turned to the trees, their eyes glued to the lanterns or the spectacle of the fireworks, and they grinned with childlike pleasure or sighed with solemn appreciation of the ritual of the lanterns.

In the woods, shouts of “Yasu!” drifted here and there, drowned out by the boom of fireworks, people yelling to be heard over one another’s voices. Kara and her friends had split up. She and Hachiro picked their way among the trees, forced too many times to back up and find a new path when the pines grew thick enough to create an obstacle. Ren and Mai were a little ways off. At first she’d heard the soccer queen wincing and complaining about the scratches, but she’d quieted down quickly, and now joined the chorus of anxious searchers calling Yasu’s name. Miho and Sakura were near enough that Kara could make out their voices from time to time, but she couldn’t see them. There were so many people picking their way through the pines that she felt sure if Yasu was still there to be found, they would find him.

Yet Kara couldn’t shake the feeling that they would find nothing, that Yasu had vanished as completely as the others. If this was the Hannya, or a Hannya, whatever serpentine spirit had been summoned up by their attempt to perform Dojoji, it left no trace of its victims. Either it abducted them and took them somewhere else, like a spider binding its prey to eat later, or it consumed them all without leaving a drop of blood behind.

She stopped yelling his name. Hachiro, caught up in the moment, didn’t seem to notice, but Kara gave up on Yasu. She kept moving through the pines, kept searching the shadows, but she did not believe they had any hope of finding him.

And then she heard the shouting from up ahead.

“What?” she said, pushing through a scrabble of pine branches that raked her skin in order to reach Hachiro. “What was that?”

Even as he reached for her hand, he picked up the pace, pulling her behind him as they weaved among the pines.

“Someone heard him. He’s calling out up ahead, or something,” Hachiro said.

Kara listened carefully and thought that she could actually hear a voice crying out for help. But by then the frantic shouts for Yasu had increased to a fervent cacophony that drowned out everything but the staccato explosions of fireworks.

They ran, dodging trees, whipping through the pines, and then there were many others around them, the circle closing. She saw Mai and Ren, and behind them Sakura and Miho, and others on her left side as well.

A scream tore through the pines, rising up, louder even than the fireworks’ finale, so close must they have been to its origin. They all went faster, harder, rushing, snapping branches, calling to one another now, trying to pinpoint Yasu’s location.

Kara’s steps faltered and she slowed. Ahead, a dozen or more searchers had come to a complete stop, forming a strange kind of half circle. An audience.

She let go of Hachiro’s hand and padded forward, finding a narrow gap between two others who had participated in the search. In between them, she had a view of a small clearing in the pine woods, and of the twisted, broken, bleeding human wreckage that had been left there, a rag doll cast aside by some giant, monstrous child.

She’d been wrong, after all. They had found Yasu.

And now she wished they had not.