Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

All three girls froze. Kara feltall of the blood draining from her face and the winter chill that she thoughtshe had dispelled returned. Her pulse quickened and she jumped up from thefuton and went to open the door.

One look in Miss Aritomo's eyesand she knew that the teacher brought only pain.

"Yuuka?" Karawhispered.

Miss Aritomo glanced over hershoulder and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Then she facedthe girls.

"The search has been calledoff until morning," Miss Aritomo said. "It is too dark in the woods,now. If the boys are not conscious, the searchers could walk right by them andnot know. At first light, they will begin again, with as many as four hundredpeople combing the mountain for any sign of Hachiro and Ren."

Kara noticed immediately whatthe woman had not said.

"And Sora?"

Miss Aritomo lowered her gaze amoment, then looked back up at them, eyes damp. "They found Sora a shorttime ago. It seems he wandered off the path and deeper into the woods duringthe height of the storm."

"He's dead," Mihosaid.

It was not a question, but MissAritomo nodded to confirm it.

"He froze to death thatquickly?" Kara asked, grief and confusion whirling inside of her. "Howcan that happen?"

"That is the question weare all asking," Miss Aritomo said. "And it's why I have come tospeak with you three, though the rest of the students will not learn the newsuntil morning. There will be no school tomorrow. Most of the teachers will beout helping with the search. But Mr. Yamato wishes to speak with you threefirst thing in the morning."

Kara glanced at her friends andthen nodded. "Of course."

"He will visit your house,Kara, to be sure that our conversation is private," Miss Aritomo said."Miho? Sakura? You are to be at the Harpers' home by nine o'clock. We willspeak of curses and of ghosts, and if this is connected to the troubles we allhad last year, we will find a way to stop it before anyone else dies."

Kara had a great deal of respectfor Yuuka, and she had grown very fond of the woman.

She only wished she couldbelieve her.

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.