Thomas Randall - Spirits of the Noh

“You think we’re wasting our time?” she asked.

They stood in the shadows under a tree, across the street from Cherry Blossoms. Chiyoko and her friend had been in there awhile.

Ren shrugged, still staring at the shop. Little slices of moonlight cut through the branches of the tree and made his bronze hair gleam. Miho forced herself not to think about it; he was a friend, and a friend he would stay.

“There aren’t enough of us,” Ren replied. He glanced at her, and she could see the worry in his eyes. “Six of us to watch out for dozens of other students? It isn’t enough. We are very lucky tonight, but what about tomorrow?”

Miho took a deep breath and nodded. What could she say? They had all known the limitations of their plan from the beginning. Now that they had started to implement it, the hugeness of the task only confirmed what they had feared. Tonight, Sakura and Mai were in the lobby of the dormitory, watching out for any Noh club students who might leave the building, though most of them were too anxious to go anywhere after dark. Yasu’s death had thrown a grim shroud over all of them.

Kara and Hachiro were over at the school building. A handful of Noh club kids had gone there to pack up materials they’d already completed for the stage and background. Along with the costumes, some finished and others works-in-progress, they would be carefully stored until work on the production resumed. That meant that Kara and Hachiro could watch over four of the Hannya’s potential targets at one time, even as nearly all of the others were inside their dorms for the night.

Those who lived at home had departed in the afternoon, as soon as Miss Aritomo had finished briefing them. But several of the boarding students had gone out to shop or eat or on other Sunday errands, and Miho and Ren had been left with choosing who they would follow. Chiyoko had been cast to portray the Hannya itself in Dojoji, and so when she and her friend had left the dorm, the decision had been instant. No matter that it might leave others unwatched and therefore more vulnerable-they could only be in one place at a time.

“We had to choose,” she said to Ren.

“That’s my point,” he replied. “What if we chose wrong? Then this is all for nothing. We can’t possibly watch them all. This is wrong. We’ve got to tell people now, before it’s too late.”

Miho took a deep breath. She knew he was right. “When we get back to the dorm tonight, we’ll talk to the others. Kara may argue-mainly because she doesn’t want to embarrass her father-but I agree with you.”

Ren gave a short nod, fixing a kind of contract between them, but then he returned his attention to the sweet shop. Chiyoko really did seem to have been in the shop a long time. Several more seconds ticked by before he took a step out from under the tree.

“Do you think we should go in?” he asked.

Just then the door of the shop clicked open and Chiyoko and her friend emerged, as though summoned by the question. Ren retreated to Miho’s side and the two faced each other, smiling and muttering bits of nothing in low voices, pretending not to notice Chiyoko at all. Miho felt silly, and not at all convincing in this ruse. Even if Ren had been her boyfriend she would not have flirted so openly and completely as she now pretended to. But Chiyoko and her friend chatted happily, thrusting their hands into a shared bag of some sort of sugary candy, and walked on by, in the general direction of the school.

“All set?” Ren asked.

Miho smiled, blushing a bit. “Feeling very silly, but yes. Let’s go.”

They turned, hand in hand, and followed Chiyoko and her friend. The girls meandered a bit, but as they crossed the street and passed in front of a small shoe store, Miho realized their trajectory would not lead them to the school at all. Instead, the two girls went up a small staircase into the train station.

“What now?” Ren muttered.

“Shush,” Miho said, squeezing his hand.

They waited a few seconds before they followed, walking into the station as though it truly was their destination. Miho didn’t understand. Chiyoko should have been scared. Nearly everyone she had spoken to had seemed at least unnerved by Yasu’s death, and wanted to be cautious. But perhaps to Chiyoko, caution just meant not being out in the dark alone.

Her mind raced. Chiyoko had to be going into Miyazu City. Maybe she and her friend were meeting boys from a different school, or had some special shop to visit. Perhaps her friend didn’t live in the dorm and they were going to her house for the night. That made more sense than anything, considering it was a Sunday night. They had no school tomorrow, but the rest of Miyazu City hadn’t changed its schedule. Most of the shops would be closed by now, or closing soon. The city slowed down on Sunday night-there just wasn’t a lot to do.

Eight other people stood on the platform, waiting for the train. Miho and Ren held back, lingering near the entrance to the platform. They could see Chiyoko fine from where they stood. Nothing could possibly happen to her there, with other train riders around. Yet something troubled Miho, making her pulse quicken. The small hairs on the back of her neck bristled and she peered around her at every narrow corner and closed-off exit. The lights on the platform were dim and flickering, and only served to make the dark places darker. Something didn’t feel right.

“We should go. It would be too obvious if we followed them onto the train. They would want to know why we were stalking them. And since we don’t have any idea where they’re going… we really should just go back,” Ren said, and backed up a step, looking to her to follow.

Miho grabbed his wrist. “Wait until the train comes.”

“Why-”

“Please, let’s just wait.” She glanced around again, nudging Ren into the dome of light thrown by a wanly gleaming bulb above. Beyond the edges of that circle of light, the dark seemed to insinuate itself, moving nearer, closing in around her like the inexorable creep of the tide coming in.

The shriek of the train’s brakes, so much like a scream, made her flinch. Her heart pounded. Somehow she hadn’t heard the train coming.

“Are you all right?” Ren asked, squeezing her hand.

She smiled to give him a reassurance she did not feel. “Yes. I’m sorry. The tension is terrible, that’s all.”

As they watched, the people waiting on the platform all boarded the train, including Chiyoko and her friend. For just an instant before she vanished into the train’s interior, Chiyoko glanced back and caught Miho’s eyes. A flicker of recognition sparked there, and curiosity.

Chiyoko gave a little wave.

Miho waved back.

Then the train doors closed with an irritating pinging noise, and started to pull out of the station, airflow gusting around it. She and Ren waited until the train had departed, and then Miho felt him exhale beside her.

“That’s all we can do tonight, I guess.”

When Miho spoke, it came as a surprise to her. She hadn’t even been aware of intending to do so until she heard her own voice.

“Ren,” she said.

Something in her tone alarmed him and he turned, stepping in close, holding her shoulders and studying her face. “What’s wrong?”

Miho could not reply. She stared past him, at the broad, open space where the train had just passed. Down on the tracks, something stirred, perhaps nothing more than discarded newspapers eddying on the breeze. Yet the sound whispered up to her, insinuating itself in her mind, and it seemed so much like a hiss.

With the train gone, and the station now empty, the sense of presence ought to have departed as well. But it hadn’t. Miho could feel something else there with them, and just as this thought began to form into a coherent belief, and her fear started to crystallize, she saw the shadows bunch and gather in the space between platforms, down on the tracks.