Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

Mai had feared the worst. Fortunately,Wakana would be all right, but the same could not be said of Sora, or of thefour students who had died last night. In her walk to the bathroom to shower,Mai had heard weeping coming from behind many doors. She would have gone overto the hospital already this morning to be with Wakana, except that she waswaiting.

She dug her cell phone out ofher pocket and checked the time. Her anger, which had been simmering allmorning, began to rise. Waiting didn't suit her, but there was nothing shecould do about it.

Twenty minutes later, just asher patience was about to reach its end, a knock came upon the door. Mai jumpedup and ran to open it, swung the door inward, and there she was, standing inthe corridor, awaiting an invitation like some movie vampire.

"Ume," Mai said,unsmiling.

The girl had lost none of herpoise. She was tall and slender, her long hair perfect, her face like that of aporcelain doll. With a toss of her hair, she lifted her chin with her typicalsuperior air, and smiled as falsely as ever.

"Did you miss me?" Umeasked.

Mai laughed. The reactionstemmed from disbelief rather than amusement, but Ume was too shallow andself-serving to notice, for she stepped into the room and gave Mai aperfunctory hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"You managed to persuadeyour parents to let you take the car, I see," Mai said as she closed thedoor.

"It was not easy," Umereplied, glancing around the room. "But Mr. Yamato did not leave me muchchoice."

The girl — once queen ofthe soccer bitches and as imperious as ever — sat down on Wakana's bedand looked up expectantly.

"All right," Ume said,"here's what you're going to say."

"No," Mai said curtly.

Ume laughed, though she seemed abit unsure now. "I have not even told you, yet."

"You don't tell meanything. You don't go to this school anymore. I will not follow your lead andit shames me to know that I ever did. You were always cruel and small andpetty, but you are a murderer, as well. I have nothing but contempt for you."

Ume flinched. Her nostrilsflared and her eyes narrowed in fury.

"I didn't kill anyone,"she lied, rising from the bed. "And for someone who needs my help, youhave a strange way of showing it."

Ume started toward the door butMai blocked her way. Ume reached out as though to push her, and Mai slapped heracross the face. The sound echoed in the small room. Ume blinked in shock.

"My roommate. . myfriend, Wakana, is in the hospital. Sakura may not survive her injuries. Hachiroand Ren are missing. Sora is dead. Daisuke. . do you remember him? Probablynot, because he was quiet and not handsome and he was kind. Daisuke is dead,because of you. All of them, because of what you started. Jiro, who you claimto have loved, is dead because of you."

Ume's face reddened, and notonly where Mai had slapped her. Her gaze shifted around as though she soughtsome escape. Her lip quivered and she shook her head in adamant refusal of thetruth.

"That is ridiculous."

So Mai laid it all for her,everything that had happened, and what Kubo thought might be able to be done tobreak the curse.

"You may not have beencursed by Kyuketsuki," Mai said, "but you share the blame for all ofthis death. It's as if you planted some seed and evil grew from it. Youmurdered Akane Murakami, and you need to atone for that. You should confess,Ume. For the sake of your own soul.

"Everyone knows you'reguilty. I would wager that even your parents know, deep inside, that you killedAkane. You set it all in motion, and now it is time for you to do something — a very small thing — to help stop it."

Ume looked as though she mightcontinue to argue, but then she sagged backward, all the fight leaving her. Shetook several deep breaths, and then she stood a little straighter.

"I'll help. If it meansbreaking the curse and preventing others from dying, and this Master Kubo needsme at his ritual because I was there when Kyuketsuki was defeated, I will help.

"But I admit nothing."

Kara had expected Sakura to bein intensive care. Years of watching American television had prepared her forbreathing tubes and blinking machines, so she was surprised to find very littleof that apparatus when she entered Sakura's room.

"She's been like this sincelast night," Miho said, stepping up beside Kara.

They stood there a long moment,staring at their friend's unmoving form. An IV dripped fluid into Sakura's armand a single monitor beeped along with her heartbeat. Another — like asmall television screen — seemed to be measuring her body temperaturealong with her pulse. Her left arm was in a cast and where her pale bluehospital top had ridden up, bandages showed from underneath. The left side ofher face was bruised and swollen, but there were no stitches. Only the bruisesand bandages hinted at the trauma beneath. To someone who didn't know better,she looked as though she might wake up — in quite a bit of pain — anymoment. Kara wondered what her parents would do if she died. After Akane'smurder, Sakura had been all they had left and they had ignored her for a year. Noone should have to lose a child, but to have them both die. .

Miho took her hand and Kara heldon tight, squeezing.

"Kara?" Miss Aritomobegan. She knew the teacher was about to ask if she was okay, and she was verymuch not okay. But the time for thinking about herself had passed.

Kara stood up straighter,ignoring the aches and stiffness and the lingering chill in her bones. Shereached up with both hands — bandaged and not — and pushed her hairback out of her face. The hospital gown she wore gaped at the back and she wasgrateful for the robe, but she still felt exposed and vulnerable. She ignoredthe feeling, narrowing her focus down to only the tasks that were ahead ofthem.

"There's nothing we can dofor her here," she said, and let go of Miho's hand.

"But — " Mihobegan.

Kara turned to her. "She'sin the doctor's hands. The only thing we can do for is get Hachiro and Renback, get Ume here, and make sure Kubo lifts the curse, so when Sakura wakes upshe can have a normal life again."

Miho fixed her with a hard look.She wasn't ready to leave.

"I talked to her, lastnight," Miho said. "And this morning. And I talked to you as well."

Kara frowned. "What do youmean? I don't remember — "

"I wasn't sure if you weregoing to wake up," Miho said, her voice firm, despite the sorrow in hereyes. "The doctor said you would be all right, but I couldn't be sure. SoI talked to you. And to her."

Miho nodded at Sakura. Karalooked at the unconscious figure on the bed, saw her chest rising and falling witheach breath, and for a moment all of her defenses were stripped away. She hadbarely acknowledged that this was Sakura, a girl who had become more than afriend to her, almost a sister. The harsh cut of her hair had been softened bydisarray. All of her rebelliousness, her spirit, was gone.

She could die. Kara took thatin, brought it close to her heart as though holding it in her fists. Her motherhad died and the loss remained with her, hurting her every single day. Thehardest part of dealing with such loss was in looking to the future and knowingthat she would never see her mother again, never hear her voice or herinfectious laugh, never have another hug or do a weird, goofy little dance inthe kitchen the way they often had when some silly television commercial jinglegot stuck in their heads.

Sakura could be gone.

Kara did not dare sit on theedge of the bed, unsure how delicate her friend's condition might be. She knelton the floor and took Sakura's hand in hers.

"It's me, Kara," shesaid, voice softly, feeling faintly ridiculous and grateful that only Mihocould hear her. "I just. . I want you to know. ."

She hesitated. In an apparenteffort to give Kara privacy, Miho walked across the room and stood looking outthe window.