Christopher Golden - A Winter of Ghosts

People streamed away, reunitingwith family and friends and lovers and then vanishing from the platform. Onlystragglers were left when the train hissed loudly and the doors closed and itbegan to glide away.

Jiro stood just inside thedoors, staring out at Hachiro as the train pulled away. He hadn't been there amoment before. The ghost watched him with sad eyes, and as the train rattledout of the station he faded from view.

Gone again.

Hachiro stared along the tracksfor a long time after the train had gone, frightened and glad all at the sametime, and he wondered if, perhaps, he should never have come back to MiyazuCity. To Monju-no-Chie school.

To Kara.

Kara knew there had to have beena time in her life when she had been more bored, but she couldn't think of one.Her father had gone into school to make final preparations in his classroom andoffice for the new term, which started tomorrow. His lesson plans were done,but the principal, Mr. Yamato, wanted all of the teachers to organize their ownmaterials so that all was in order when classes began. They were also takingturns overseeing the return of the boarding students to the dormitory behindthe school. Kara had wanted to go along — she couldn't wait to see herfriends — but her father had discouraged it. Mr. Yamato would havefrowned upon it.

So she waited, and the wait wastorture. She fiddled with her guitar for a little while, but found it impossibleto focus long enough to play any song all the way through. Television in Japanusually bored or appalled her, depending on what was on, and she didn't havetime for a movie. . she hoped.

Finally, she logged on to hercomputer and started to upload her favorites among the most recent batch ofphotos she had taken in and around Miyazu City. Her friends back home inMedford loved when she posted them on her Facebook page.

As she studied the pictures onher computer screen, she shivered. December had been chilly, but now thatJanuary had arrived, it really felt like winter. The shirt she had on had beenfine this morning, yet for some reason she felt colder now. A glance at herwindow showed her that the day had turned gray, as though threatening snow. Theforecast hadn't called for any of the white stuff, but with the sun gone, itcertainly was cold enough.

Kara jumped up from her chairand pulled a green, V-neck sweater from a drawer, tugging it on over her head.

Tea , she thought. Niceand hot .

The photos temporarilyforgotten, she went out into the kitchen, and as she reached for the teapot, asoft knock came upon the door. She glanced up, smiling, and hurried to answerit.

Kara opened the door to discoverSakura and Miho on the stoop wearing matching grins. For once the two girls,polar opposites in so many ways, looked almost exactly the same in their graywool coats and winter hats.

The three girls let out a chorusof squees and threw themselves into each other's arms as though they had beenseparated for months instead of weeks. They all began speaking at once, talkinginstead of listening, and then laughing at the absurdity of it. Somehow in themidst of this Kara managed to usher them inside and close the door, and thenthey were taking off their boots and jackets and hats, and suddenly they werethe Miho and Sakura she knew. Sakura was tall, with eyes the color of brass andspiky hair. Miho was a couple of inches shorter and had a shy, bookish demeanorthat was punctuated by her glasses and her long hair, clipped up on one side tokeep it from hiding her pretty face. The two girls had become her closestfriends in the nine months since school had begun.

"Okay, okay, let's allbreathe," Kara said. "Come in and sit down. I was about to make tea. Doesanyone else want some?"

Miho raised her handimmediately, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear.

"Me, too," Sakuraagreed. "It's cold out there. I think winter should be over on New Year'sDay."

"It's just starting,"Miho said, frowning at the impracticality of the statement.

"I know. I'd just like itto end now."

"No way," Kara said asshe put water in the teapot. "I look forward to snowball fights andsnowmen. And there will be tubing."

Miho and Sakura shared a dubiousglance. Kara pointed at them with the teapot, water sloshing inside.

"There will betubing!"

The girls laughed, raising theirhands in surrender, and another giddy wave went through Kara. She was sograteful to have them back. As the girls chatted to her about their New Year'sEve activities — they had all updated each other about Christmas already — she put on the teapot and then joined them at the table.

"My father and I got up tosee the sunrise on New Year's Day," Sakura said. "It's good luck."

Kara blinked in surprise. "Youdidn't tell me that. Was it your idea or his?"

Sakura gave her a tiny, sheepishshrug. "His. I know. It is strange."

"Not strange at all. It'samazing that he actually noticed you were there," Kara said.

"Actually, Sakura had agood time with them," Miho said.

Kara looked at her, then atSakura. Her hair had been freshly cut but she had not altered the style. Shortin the back, but longer in the front, it framed her face in two slashes ofblack hair, highlighted by dyed streaks of bright red. Yet she wore a black andwhite checked sweater, and her face had an uncharacteristic softness about it,a lightness that took some of the edge away from her rebellious image.

"That's huge," Karasaid. "That's great!"

Sakura nodded. "I suppose. Idon't want to make too much of it. I'm back, now, and it will be easy for themto forget me again."

Even before her sister, Akane,had been murdered, Sakura's parents had not paid their children much attention.And with Akane's death it had only become worse. Kara had spoken to her fatherabout it once and he had suggested that their grief might have made theMurakamis afraid to love Sakura. But Kara refused to let them off the hook. Theyhad lost a daughter, but they had one still alive and they barely acknowledgedher existence, traveling on business or on holiday, leaving her at boardingschool even when she was on break, hardly ever coming to visit. Their neglecthad reached a level where Kara had been genuinely surprised when Sakura hadtold her she was going home for the holidays. And now to hear that her fatherhad made an effort to spend time with his daughter came as an even greatersurprise, but a welcome one.

"I don't think they'llforget you again," Kara said. "If they're trying to. ." Shecouldn't think of the Japanese words for 'amends.'

"It's a start, at least,"Miho said.

"It's great," Karasaid, but she could see that the conversation had begun to make Sakurauncomfortable, so she changed the subject. "Anyway, I have something Iwanted to talk to you both about."

Flashes of worry flickered inthe girls' eyes and Kara realized they had misunderstood her.

"No, no," she saidquickly. "No demons, no curses. Nothing bad. Something good, I hope."

"Don't scare us like that,"Sakura said, her tough-girl core resurfacing.

"Sorry."

Miho smiled. "It's not yourfault. We're all trying not to think about the curse, but it is always in theback of our minds. I guess it always will be, even if nothing happens foryears."

An awkward, dreadful quietdescended upon the house. It lasted only a few, nervous seconds before Kararose and went to get them tea cups.

"A new year, a newbeginning," she said. "We can't live with that shadow over us all thetime. And nothing's happened for months."

"I know," Mihoreplied. "It is just difficult to put it out of my mind."

Miho was right. Kara had to workat forgetting. It took an effort not to be afraid of the dark, to be able to goout at night or feel safe being home alone. It helped that they weren't theonly ones who knew about the events of the spring and fall. Her father and MissAritomo had been involved, and Mr. Yamato, the principal, knew. So did theMiyazu City police, who had instructed them all to report anything unusualimmediately, but otherwise not to discuss it with anyone. Officially, those thingsthey had experienced had never happened. The deaths of the students andteachers who had been killed in both instances were attributed to human causes.Human killers.