Crescent Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Sublunary ❯ Night Without Stars ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: See part one.

(Dark) mood music: These Dreams (Heart), Idea (Sudou Akira), Blue Light (Final Fantasy movie OST), Where Fishes Go (Live). The Thin Line (Queensryche) Sublunary 6: Night Without Stars

Mitsuru left her almost as soon as they'd both gotten through the door, not even lingering to sneer at her attempt to thank him like he usually did. Mahiru sighed and pulled off her shoes. She didn't have it in her today to tackle the tengu's weird moods.

On the way home, she'd pondered what to do about the class trip. She really wanted to go- -but if the others needed her here, she'd have to stay. What would it hurt to ask, though?

She found Katsura- -or Sion, as she thought of Katsura's male aspect- -in the club area, polishing the piano. Mahiru hesitated. Something about the way Sion tended the instrument made her feel like she was intruding on a private moment. Hastily, she took a quick step back and rapped lightly on the doorframe. Sion looked up.

"Please forgive the intrusion," Mahiru said, automatically giving the traditional polite response to being allowed into another's home. "I was wondering... is Master Oboro available? I don't want to disturb him if he's busy."

Sion smiled, folding the chamois cloth he was using to polish the already-gleaming instrument. "He always has time for you, Princess. He's up in the office. Would you like me to go with you?"

"Oh! Um, it's okay, thank you, I don't want to keep you from--from your work." Mahiru winced inwardly, listening to how her words fell over each other. Katsura was so much easier to deal with as a woman. Sion... made her feel strange, inside. Not the same kind of strange she felt around Nozomu, but enough to make her cautious.

"Oh, I almost forgot... Nozomu asked if you'd stop by his workroom when you had a moment."

Mahiru blinked. She'd learned they all had places under the Moonshine's roof that were considered private, even if it appeared they were public spaces. No one touched the piano except Katsura Sion. The kitchen was Akira's domain. Master Oboro's office was a place no-one entered without permission. Nozomu had a corner of the basement that he'd claimed for his own. She didn't know what places Misoka and Mitsuru considered "theirs," but she felt sure that if she ever trespassed into the tengu's space, he wouldn't hesitate to let her know. At maximum volume.

"Oh. Thank you. I'll do that." Mahiru bowed, as always wondering why some members of the Lunar Race elicited this kind of formal response in her while others didn't. She couldn't imagine such formalities with Akira, and Mitsuru's rudeness took the polish off of any gesture of social grace.

Sion responded in kind, holding the pose until she withdrew. It made Mahiru a little uncomfortable, a reminder of how little she understood just what they wanted from her. She climbed the winding stairs, still wondering how she was going to bring up the subject of the trip. It seemed like a silly request, now. Excuse me, sir, but would you mind putting off saving your people so I can go to Kyoto?

At the door, she hesitated. Should she ask, or should she just find an excuse to tell her friends why she was staying behind? Mahiru raised her hand and knocked before she could finish talking herself out of even trying.

"Yes?"

Mahiru peeked around the door. "Master Oboro? May I come in?"

"Of course, Princess."

Slipping inside the office, she closed the door. Seeing him seated behind that mammoth desk, dressed in the same kind of loose, comfortable clothing a retired man would wear, she wondered again just what kind of demon Oboro was. She had only ever seen his human face. She had no idea of his past, or his reasons for living in the human world instead of with his own people, or why he was directing the mission to reclaim the Teardrops. I guess they decided I didn't need to know any of that.

"I'm sorry for intruding," she began. Oboro just gave her a faint smile and gestured for her to come forward.

Mahiru complied, coming to the edge of the large desk. "I, that is, they made an announcement at school, today. About our yearly trip."

"Oh?"

This felt more and more like a stupid idea. "I-it's to Kyoto, this year. I was wondeing, I mean, if I need to stay, I should tell them, as soon as possible."

"Kyoto?' Master Oboro put aside his papers and clasped his hands together. "That may work out quite nicely."

Mahiru blinked. "...Sir?' Does this mean I can go?

"The old capital," Oboro murmured, a faint smile on his lips. "It has been quite a long time." His gaze turned distant, as if he were looking out not just across the room, but across time as well. "Yes, Princess, I think you should come to Kyoto with us."

Mahiru wondered if she'd blanked out part of the conversation. That happened, sometimes, when she got nervous. "'With you'? I don't understand, sir. Were you already planning to go?" And when was I going to hear about this?

Master Oboro focused on her again. "We had intended to travel there soon, at any rate. I had been wondering what arrangements needed to be made to see to your safety. Combining our business with your school excursion may prove the best option all around."

"Is there a Teardrop there?" she asked.

"Possibly. The old capital holds many secrets. The Moon Palace is hidden there as well, one more secret of the city."

"In Kyoto?" She thought of her grandmother's house again. Did the Lunar Race know how close the Princess's descendants had been to them?

"Yes," he smiled. "We spent a good month looking for you there, Princess."

She started, wondering if he'd somehow known what she was thinking. Misoka did that sometimes, but she could never tell if it was actual mind-reading or if she just was just that predictable.

"But I've lived in Tokyo all my life."

"So we learned." Oboro sobered. "We truly feared we would not find you in time, Princess."

Mahiru took a deep breath and seized the opening. "That's something I don't understand, sir, if I may say. You'd been recovering Teardrops before I met any of you. Wasn't the reason you wanted my help because the police had figured out to anticipate a... a robbery on the full moon?"

Oboro shook his head. "We've searched for you as long as we have actively sought the Teardrops, Princess. Longer, actually. Tracing a bloodline through its female descendants is not as easy as it once was. Adoption, marriage, so many things can tangle a family line. Your bloodline twines across centuries of time, Princess, almost disappearing during Japan's more turbulent periods. At times, even I believed the line had died out. That we found you when we most needed aid... was the first sign of real hope we have had in so very long."

Mahiru swallowed. It made her nervous when one of the Lunar Race spoke to her with that tone. So hopeful and desperate, and she still had no idea what they wanted from her. If it's not just my luck, what is it? What more do they want?

"But why?" she asked. "Why go to all that trouble? I know having my power around helps, but..."

Oboro raised a hand in a bid for silence. Mahiru swallowed the rest of her words.

"Princess... what you ask is reasonable. I regret that I must be unreasonable, and ask that you trust us a bit longer, and believe me when I say your value to us is beyond even the aid you've given in recovering our lost treasure."

Mahiru linked her hands together and gazed down at the floor. Trust. That one word held layers of meaning when it was applied to relations between the Lunar Race and humans. Trust, when one side felt, with some justice, betrayed. Trust, when the other felt, with some justice, deep fear and anger.

But I don't have any choice. I have to trust them. If no-one even tries, things will never get better. Mitsuru, with his vow of never trusting humans, was a living example of how far that road didn't take a person. But if she had no choice, was it really an act of trust or just bowing to necessity?

"I came here to help, sir, and I'll keep doing that. Can I tell my aunt, then, that I'll be going to Kyoto, so she needn't worry if I don't call her for a few days?"

She could feel Master Oboro's gaze on her. She fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny, hiding the small resentment as best she could. Patient. She had to be patient.

"Of course, Princess. I understand you don't wish to worry your kin."

A little late for that. She's already worried. All I can do is keep it from getting worse. Mahiru frowned down at the floor. She wished that last thought couldn't be applied as easily to her role with the Lunar Race and the humans.

"She'll want me to visit my grandmother's grave, oh, my mother's mother, I mean. Auntie, she's my father's sister, but we're the only ones left, now. And with the Shiraishi grave here in Tokyo, we don't get out to Kyoto very much." Mahiru hunched her shoulders. "Auntie pays someone to keep it clean and give flowers and incense on the proper days, but it's not the same. Family should take care of family."

"So little has changed in that regard," Oboro mused, his expression solemn. "If it can be done, Princess, it will. I see no reason for our business to interfere with your pilgrimage."

"Thank you so much, sir." She gave Oboro a polite bow, as deep as one she would give to a respected teacher. "If I may be excused, then?"

Oboro murmured a polite response. Mahiru slipped out of the elder demon's office, feeling as unsettled as when she'd entered. Why couldn't they just come out and tell her what they wanted? Was there some kind of rule preventing them? Then why not just tell her that, instead of leaving her to wonder if they were all just playing some kind of game with her head?

Maybe it wasn't trust she needed to develop, but faith. They'd saved her from so much--even though most of those calamities were things she'd never have been involved in without them. They've never abandoned me, even when I was at my most scared and useless. Faith, trust... she'd try a little of both and see how far they took her. It was worth a shot. She hugged herself briefly, then started for the basement.

She'd never tell anyone, but the basement of the Moonshine creeped her out. It wasn't just that it was dark, with spiderwebs, and smelled like a musty old sack. Her aunt would say it was due to kegare pooling beneath the building, and hire a kaso or maybe a feng shui practitioner to correct the imbalance. There might be something to that. Since moving here, since beginning to interact with the People of the Moon, she'd started developing a kind of awareness of things she couldn't see with her physical eyes. Like how she could now tell one of Mitsuru's summoned winds from a natural gust, even if she couldn't see the tengu, or how she felt something shift deep inside when the others sang. Plus, how I can see the Teardrops, even if I'm not in the same room or even nearby.

I feel it even more now, since... well, since the marina, she thought, taking the stairs down. I bet I could've found Nozomu even if Sion hadn't told me where to look. It was kind of like the children's game of "Hot and Cold." When she drew near the vampire, she could feel a slow warmth spreading out from her chest, where that first thread had taken root.

But is it my own feelings that cause this, or those threads? Are my feelings real, or something that come because of what we've done?

She didn't want to think that. Nozomu had always been kind and gentle with her, different from Akira's boisterous cheer, or Misoka's calm formality. He's a real charmer, she thought, pausing on the last step. She'd seen how the women who came to the Moonshine reacted to Nozomu, the playful way he responded. He hasn't acted like that around me since that time he transformed at the marina, she realized. Did that mean his later behavior was genuine?

He wasn't human, though he could pass as one. Maybe human interpretations would only steer her wrong in this case. 'We have both loved and hated the human race.' So... what did love mean to one of the Moon's People? A lot of girls got into trouble, thinking that because a guy was nice to them, it meant love, or that a high school love meant love for life. She didn't want to make that kind of mistake. Her aunt had put off her own marriage for Mahiru's sake. What kind of trouble would result if it turned out that the niece she'd raised got into that sort of mess?

Well, maybe that was one of the questions she could get answered. She made her way past the utility rooms, noting how the laundry was piling up. She'd run a few loads through the machines that evening, make it a bit easier for the others.

Nozomu's workspace lay straight ahead, a kind of low-key machine shop. He kept all of his projects there, strange bits of machinery and electronics that seemed as esoteric to her as any of the magic the Lunar Race used. He'd set up a lighting system any artist or doctor would envy, turning that one corner as bright as day. The air carried the sharp scent of hot solder and heated plastic. Mahiru hesitated.

He'd traded in his layers for one of his more regular outfits: jeans and a t-shirt, its short sleeves scrunched up to leave his arms completely bare. It did weird things to her insides to see that much skin after he'd kept himself covered up for days. Not bad weird, but something that felt that good was a little scary.

Nozomu sat bent over some project, humming to himself. As she watched, he sat up straight, as if he'd heard something. Before she could say anything, he twisted around and smiled at her.

"Mahiru."

No one had ever said her name like that, before. It made her heart shiver, just to hear it She swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond. Koumori-san swooped down to perch on Mahiru's shoulder. She started, jolted back into a more normal mindset.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot your fruit," she said to the bat.

Nozomu laughed. "If you keep giving him treats, Mahiru-chan, he'll be too fat to fly!"

Picturing that, Mahiru burst into laughter. Affronted, Koumori-san launched himself into the air, heading for the cooler shadows above. Ignoring them both, the bat folded itself in its wings.

"Don't sulk," he called after the bat. "You know it's true."

"Oh, it's just some fruit I promised him,' Mahiru said. "It's not like I feed him every day!"

"Good," Nozomu replied. "Otherwise, I might end up feeling jealous of one of my own bats!"

"Uh...' She stared.

He waved a hand, glancing away. "Forget I said that."

The resulting silence felt awkward. Jealous of the bat? That was just ridiculous. What could Nozomu get jealous about? She edged closer, turning curious eyes to the items on his worktable. "It seems so strange to me,' she murmured, "to see you working on things like this. It's--"

"So human?" he finished for her.

"Oh! No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" She waved her hands, as if to scatter the words and feelings hanging in the air. "I mean, a vampire electrician -mechanic-inventor."

He propped his head on his hand, and grinned. "So, you thought vampires just lurked around in gloomy castles or flashy nightclubs?"

"Well, you do live and work in a nightclub," she said, a little defensive.

He laughed. "That I do. Things like these- - " he waved a hand over the items on his workbench, " - -are like riddles, the best kind. With regular riddle-games, tone of voice, body language, a hundred different things can give the answer away. Best of all, solving these riddles does more than entertain, they can do good in the world."

"Like the hydrogen engine you made for the van," Mahiru said.

"Right! There are so many good things that humans have made, but you didn't take it far enough or you didn't think it all through, or you just changed your minds."

Nozomu's expression turned brooding. "It's like the world is running on a binary system to you: it's either kill the planet, or go back to the Dark Ages when people suffered and died. Us, or them. It doesn't have to be that way, though. It can change. The only problem is, by then it might be too late to repair the damage."

"Do you think that? That it's too late, I mean?" Mahiru asked.

"I don't know,' he admitted, looking up at her. "Most of the time, I don't let myself think about it. If I think about it too much, it's too hard to hope. Then I can't do the job- -and then we will all die."

"No!" Without stopping to think, Mahiru took his hand in hers, sudden tears stinging her eyes. "It can't be too late!"

"Mahiru-chan--"

"I won't let it happen like that! I won't!"

"Shh, don't cry.' With his free hand, he wiped away the tears that had spilled over. "I hate seeing a pretty girl cry."

"I mean it, Nozomu!"

"I believe you." He cupped her chin in his hand. "So, please, don't cry anymore. Misoka will skin me if he thinks I've been doing things to make you cry."

Mahiru blinked hard, sucked in a shaky breath, and nodded. He hadn't let go of her hand, she noticed. Before she could say anything else, he tugged her close. She almost stumbled, catching herself by putting her hands on his shoulders.

"What--? Nozomu!"

His expression looked grim, now. "If you really mean to help us, you have to stop taking those crazy risks. You scared us badly by following us to that tent, Mahiru. Do you know what it did to us to know you were in danger and that we couldn't get to you?"

He didn't shake her, but she could feel the tension coiling in him, desperate for any sort of outlet.

"I-I'm sorry! But I couldn't just leave you there!"

"They would have killed you, Mahiru," he said, low-voiced and serious, "either believing you were one of us, or because you were helping us. You had the Teardrop, too. You should have run, no matter the cost to us, because losing you is a price we can't afford to pay!"

"Well, how much better do you think we'd do if it was just me and Mitsuru looking for the Teardrops?" she retorted. "We'd get nowhere a lot faster, but that wouldn't help."

"You can't risk yourself, Mahiru. If only to set our minds at ease, be more careful!"

"I can't just stand by and let my friends get hurt!"

"We've fought Dawn's Venus many times over the centuries, Mahiru, and escaped more than one 'certain death' trap. We're still alive, but we will die if--' He broke off, pressing his lips together.

She'd never heard him sound so grim, not even on that awful night when Mitsuru had died. "Is... this why you wanted to see me? To tell me to be more careful?" she asked, looking down.

"No, I wanted to see you because I wanted to see you."

"You see me every day," she pointed out.

"I wanted to see you without everyone else hanging over us." He reached up, brushed at her hair. "Will you be more careful, Mahiru? For our sake?"

There it was again, that odd spike in intensity. His expression didn't change, but Mahiru felt her heart jump. It felt like he was a lot closer now, maybe closer than a well-brought up girl should let a boy, at least not without certain promises. Some of her discomfort must have shown, for Nozomu's gaze turned shadowed and remote.

"Am I taking liberties, Mahiru? he asked softly.

She sensed his withdrawal and clutched at his shoulders. "No! No. That is, it just... surprised me, that's all. I'm... not used to stuff like this."

"Come on, a pretty girl like you?" He flashed her one of his stage smiles.

Mahiru's heart squeezed in a familiar, painful knot. "Don't make fun of me, Nozomu, please."

He touched his fingertips to her chin, making her look up. "I'd never do that, Mahiru-chan. Not like this." He gave her one of his considering looks. "You mean nobody at that school of yours ever... ?"

She shook her head, looking away. It was so embarrassing to talk about stuff like this! "I never got any letters or gifts, except by mistake. No-one ever asked to talk with me outside of class, or to walk home with me-oh, except my friends, of course. The times I got up the nerve to ask myself..." her voice trailed off. She hunched her shoulders, those horrible, awkward moments coming back to her with vivid intensity.

"They made you cry."

She'd never known a Kansai accent could sound so harsh. A little frightened by that, she hastened to reassure him.

"It's okay, really. It was really my fault. If I'd been paying attention, I'd have known they already had girlfriends, or weren't interested in girls like me. And besides, thinking about it, who'd have time for a boyfriend? All the homework, and cram school, and club stuff, and then- -"

"Mahiru!"

She broke off, aware that she'd been babbling. Nozomu rested a hand against her cheek.

"Mahiru-chan, you don't have to cry anymore. Not over that."

Mahiru's heart began to pound. By the sudden brightening in his eyes, she knew Nozomu felt it, too. Does... does he mean it the way it sounds? she wondered. Or is this another example of the difference between his race and mine?

"L-L-Look, Nozomu, I know you grew up in Osaka and your people are different and everything, but there are some things you just don't say to a girl unless- -"

"I mean it, Mahiru," he said. "Every word. Ask me to swear by the Moon, and I will."

'I made a promise to a demon boy.'

A promise... was too much right now. She knew he was serious, could feel it twining through her own anxiety and doubts, soothing them. She felt something else, too, an urgent craving that could only come from the vampire in front of her. She felt it in her own body, like the first hot pressure in her lungs, the signal to surface for air.

"Are you hungry?" she blurted out.

He started back, his grip loosening. "That's not why I- -"

"I believe you!" Mahiru said hastily. Oh, damn her luck that made such a mess of everything! "I believe you," she said more quietly, "but I still want to know: are you hungry?"

Because if he was, she had to be careful when he said things like that. He might say something he didn't really mean to get what he needed. And if he made her a promise, and regretted it... There were names for girls who trapped guys with promises, and she hated all of them.

When he looked at her again, glints of gold shone in his blue eyes. "For you, Mahiru?" He linked their hands together. "For you, I starve."

She gasped, feeling the raw intensity behind his words. The awareness hummed over her skin, as if she'd drawn too close to a static field. How could she ever refuse him? How?

"How do you stand it?" she burst out. "I can feel it, too, and it's- -"

"Shhh,' he soothed. "It's part of what I am. You're not afraid of my other face anymore. Don't be afraid of this."

He drew her closer and she went without resistance. Her hands, still clasped between his, rested against his chest. He looked too slender to be so strong. She remembered how he'd taken on a transformed Mitsuru in the park without once resorting to his own alter-form.

She relaxed. She felt safe with Nozomu 'He shall hide and protect me...' He'd saved her, comforted her, looked out for her, maybe even...? Whoa, Shiraishi! Don't jump before you know how deep the water is! Yet he'd offered to give her a promise, a promise to the descendant of the one so many believed had been false.

It wasn't like the declarations she'd seen in movies or read in books, but the very first time she'd fed Nozomu, she'd learned that books could be wrong. Maybe... maybe this was how it went in real life. A real life that included vampires and werewolves and worlds within clear water.

Gently, she freed her wrist- - the left one, this time- -and offered it to him.

"You're too generous," he said, even as he curled his fingers over her wrist. "You'll spoil me."

The side of his thumb rested against the pulse point, sliding along the veins visible beneath her skin. "Such a strong heart..."

He shifted so she could perch on his knee, his other arm firmly around her waist. "You're certain?" he asked. "This strengthens what's already between us."

"Yes." Mahiru noted with some pride that her voice didn't fade out or squeak with stress. For the first time, in her own ears, she sounded like a princess.

He tightened his grip on her wrist so the veins plumped up from the increased pressure. "Blessed by the Moon that lights our path," he murmured, raising her wrist to his lips.

Then his fangs broke through her skin, and all rational thought swirled away. A bite should hurt, but Nozomu's fangs pierced like a freshly sharpened knife. The pain only registered later.

She clung to him, one arm draped around his neck. The last time, she hadn't been able to see just what he did. Now, she had a better view. Nozomu had his eyes closed, his lips pressed tightly over the small wound on her wrist. She could hear him drawing blood from the tiny punctures. It should have repulsed her, but she felt only a deep contentment, a satisfaction that she could be of real help.

She threaded the fingers of her free hand through his thick blond hair. He wore it long, past his collar. Any teacher at her school would send him home for violating the dress code, but she liked it like this. Not too short, not too long...

The fingertips of her left hand grew cool as Nozomu's eager feeding drew blood away. How much was too much? she wondered. How much could he really get from such tiny punctures? Not worth worrying about, she decided. Nozomu wouldn't hurt her.

With a soft, wet popping sound, Nozomu broke the seal his lips made over the wound. Pressing his thumb over the neat punctures, he turned his face from her, licking his lips. Mahiru, her head now resting against his shoulder, murmured,

"You did that last time, too."

"Mm.' His speech slurred, sounding as if he'd raided the Moonshine's liquor supply. One hand pressed firmly against the small of her back, keeping her close. "'S good manners. Only th' pe'vrse show the blood tey-they feed on."

The eyes that met hers were wholly blue again. Mahiru closed her eyes. She could feel a curious warmth spreading through her, a languorous sweetness like the heady state she entered after doing lap after perfect lap in the pool, only more gentle.

"This is... almost like my dream,' Mahiru murmured.

"Hmm?' With his fingers, he combed her hair back from her face.

"Sometimes," she said, her eyes still closed, "he holds her like this."

She could almost see them, on the stage of her mind. Her ancestors, whose story she learned a little more of whenever she closed her eyes. Once, she'd asked herself why she was the only one who could see things in the water. Now, she wondered if she was the only one who knew, who could give a true account of the Yume-hime and the demon who'd loved her.

"But do you...?" she whispered, resting a hand against the vampire's chest.

"Do I what?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing." She shook her head. "It's nothing."

I wish it could always be like this, she thought. No fear, no worries, no secrets.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open.

"Hey, Fangs, you down here? Master Oboro wants to see all of us, including the girl if we can find her."

Nozomu muttered something under his breath, then called back, "She's down here. We'll be up in a minute."

Mitsuru made a disgusted sound and shut the door. Mahiru opened her eyes. Nozomu held her by the shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking into her face. "I think it's a little too soon to move around, but Master is calling."

"I'll be okay," she assured him, standing straighter in an attempt to look stronger. Her vision slid, doubled, then snapped back into focus. "We should go... I think I know what he wants to talk about, anyway."

"Wait a sec," Nozomu cautioned. He rummaged in a cooler set by his workbench. He fished out one of those energy drinks, the kind with a bizarre name, stranger colors, and awful taste. "Drink this, first. You need it."

Mahiru made a face, but opened the small bottle and drank it down. Nozomu grinned.

"I know, tastes like steeped maple leaves smell, but it's good for you. I drink the stuff myself."

Mahiru studied the bottle's label. It promised to restore vitality, ward off fatigue, and rejuvenate the spirit. So far as she could tell, it had the same amount of water, herb mixtures, and flavorings as half a dozen other drinks. "You can live off this stuff?" she asked skeptically. It tasted more like corn syrup and cough medicine, but it did steady her.

"I can. Wouldn't recommend it for humans, though. Gets boring, and I'm not all that crazy about cold stuff." He took the bottle and put it in a nearby recycling bin.

They all did that, Mahiru realized. The People of the Moon who lived here acted like it was a kind of omairi. Which, she supposed, made sense. If they were so close to nature that pollutants made them sick, they'd just do what was right to take care of the land they lived on.

When he turned back, he wore a serious expression. "Mahiru... I'm grateful for your generosity, but you shouldn't offer so often. I can go quite a while without blood."

"Oh! I didn't mean to do anything wrong! You were, I mean, I felt- -"

"I'm saying this for your benefit, Mahiru. I- -" he swallowed hard. Without another word, he reached out and pulled her to him.

Mahiru tensed, but he didn't hold her like he was drawing power for a transformation. just wrapped his arms around her, one hand at the back of her neck, the other just above her waistline.

"You risk too much," he murmured into her hair. "Whenever we do this, we're tied closer together. Even if you're prepared for where that might take us, outsiders won't understand. All they'll see is an obsessed mixed-blood, and the bruises on your body. I can't- -I don't want to risk them taking you away from me!"

Them? Outsiders? Mahiru wondered. Somehow, somewhen, a line had been crossed. Nozomu, it seemed, no longer saw her as just a human. If he ever did, she thought. She could feel a fine tremor shivering through his body. Was he trying not to transform, or were his feelings that intense?

"I think I understand," she murmured. "I shouldn't have--"

"Not so often," he corrected. "At least, let the bruising fade away before you think about offering. Too much, too often, can make you sick. I don't want to hurt you, Mahiru-chan."

He sounded so serious, so worried, that she found herself nodding, just to put him at ease. "I promise."

"All right, then. So," Nozomu said, putting his arm around her waist as they headed for the stairs, "what do you think Master wants to see us for?"

"I think we're going to Kyoto."

He almost stumbled on the bottom step, but caught himself. "Already? But we're not- -"

He cut himself off. "Let's go find out instead of guessing."

He kept his arm around her waist as they climbed the stairs, only drawing away when they reached the top. His hand trailed down her arm, fingertips lingering at the edge of her wrist. Mahiru blushed for no reason she could name.

The others had gathered in the main club area, in chairs dragged away from the tables. Misoka turned his head, watching them approach. He stood as they drew nearer.

"Princess," he said, his tone almost expressionless, "please, have a seat."

She couldn't demur, not while pinned under the gaze of those narrow eyes. Mahiru stepped away from Nozomu, feeling only a faint twinge as she did so. With an effort, she kept her hands at her sides, no matter how much she wanted to cup them over her heart. "This strengthens what's between us." And these were only two of the threads he'd mentioned. What would the rest feel like? She returned Misoka's bow of greeting and slipped into the vacated seat.

Akira sat at her left, chair tilted back, arms behind his head, chewing what seemed like an enormous wad of gum. He winked at her, then went back to staring into space. Misoka remained standing. Nozomu took a seat just out of her direct line of sight. Mitsuru, she saw, straddled a chair at the far edge of their rough circle, looking at no-one.

Moments later, Oboro came down from his office, with Sion trailing behind him. The elder demon's gaze swept over all of them. Mahiru folded her hands and waited. Oboro seated himself, with Sion and Misoka taking up positions on either side of him. It looked like something from an old movie, the daimyo holding court in his castle.

Most samurai guards didn't wear jeans and t-shirts, though. She ducked her a bit, smothering her smile.

"We have only a little time before we open, so I'll be brief." Master Oboro rested his clasped hands on his knee. "Our schedule is being moved up. We leave for Kyoto in-" he paused, cocked his head to the side. "A week, is it, Princess?"

She nodded. Mitsuru shoved himself up from his chair.

"What, she's making those decisions, now?"

"Mahiru's school trip coincides nicely with the time we need to be in Kyoto," Oboro said calmly. "It works out well all around."

"Oh, yeah, we don't want to inconvenience 'her highness.' Wouldn't want her to give up her stupid trip because there's work to be done," Mitsuru sneered. "I suppose we're gonna have to drag her around with us, too."

"Ow, c'mon, Mitsuru,' Akira said. "Don't be like that. Most of us never got to go to schools here. A trip sounds like fun."

"Yeah, well you didn't miss anything." Mitsuru folded his arms.

"Just to clarify," Master Oboro said, his voice light but brooking no argument, "the Princess will be the one 'dragging you around,' as you put it. While Misoka, Katsura, and I make our reports to the Emperor, the rest of you will act as her bodyguards."

"Wait a minute-" Mitsuru began.

"Um, Master Oboro... sir... that could be a problem," Mahiru finished. "The class is divided up into preselected groups, and they're not mixed. The only person who could be around and not stand out is Katsura-and not even right now."

"By the time we leave, I'll look like a woman again, Princess," Sion assured her with a smile.

Mahiru blinked. She'll *look* like a woman? Wait, Master Oboro said Katsura changed completely twice a month. Does that mean-oh, I don't want to go there!

"We've watched over you in this way before, Princess," Misoka added. "We can do so again."

Mahiru remembered the days following the disastrous dinner cruise. She'd caught glimpses of the others or one of Nozomu's bats everywhere she went, not to mention all the times she'd found Nozomu perched on the roof outside her window. That was soooo creepy, then, she thought. I didn't know what else they wanted from me. I still don't, not really.

"Why does she need a bodyguard in Kyoto?" Mitsuru wanted to know.

Sion and Oboro glanced at each other, hesitating.

"Because the Moon Palace is there," Mahiru said, filling the silence. "And there are people like you there, who might do something."

"Princes..." Misoka began in a pained voice.

"People like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mitsuru demanded.

Mahiru lifted her head and locked gazes with the tengu. She remembered the park, the vicious choke hold he'd clamped around her throat, the attack by the swings Akira had intercepted before she could be more than frightened. The time he'd tried to summon lightning while she stood past her waist in water. Other times, every push and shove, times when her skin had been pinched, twisted, and bruised during his rough handling. The blast of wind, like a bulldozer, sending her toppling over the edge of the roof, the tiny whirlwinds he'd summoned in this very room, hurling every loose object at her head. Every vicious word, every cruel put-down.

She let all that spin through her mind as she stared at him. He didn't look away, but began to pale, as he had when she'd challenged him the day they'd invited her to move in with them. The tension thickened, making breathing difficult. Any second now, she expected to see sparks of static electricity dance over all the metal objects in the room.

"We cannot assume the two we fought at the WPF are the sole members of Dawn's Venus." Misoka's voice sliced through the tension, leaving it to collapse in on itself.

"Dawn's Venus draws its warriors from cultivated families, all of whom have been indoctrinated to hate and seek the destruction of the Lunar Race," Misoka explained, sounding as distant as the Moon itself. "Those who do not fight still serve as watchers and information gatherers. The families spread their nets wide, and lurk under many names. By now, word of our quest will have reached every Venusian from Yokohama to Nagasaki. Their watchers may have limited, or even no powers, but they blend in perfectly with the general populace. Cell phones and the Internet can relay information about our whereabouts in minutes. The snare can close before we even realize one has been set."

Like at the WPF, Mahiru thought, twisting her hands together.

"The Princess must be protected," Master Oboro said. "We will do our assigned tasks, and if the Seven Lucky Gods are kind, we will be successful."

Oboro stood effectively ending the conversation. Mahiru shivered. Was it really that dangerous? She'd snapped out that comment to Mitsuru because she was tired of being his target. Demons hate me. Nozomu says the Venusians will hate me, maybe kill me, for helping the Lunar Race. I'm a seventeen year old high school klutz... and I need bodyguards!

A hot flash of bitter resentment seared through her. It's not fair! I didn't do anything! All the people who started this are dead. What gives them the right to take it out on me?

That very same thought, she realized, could be echoing in the heart of every member of the Lunar Race. Some of them had done terrible things, she was sure, just like humans did terrible things. It made no sense to hate everyone for what a few did. Hating never made anything better.

"Princess?" Misoka stood a little closer to her chair. "Are you-"

"I'm sorry!" Mahiru jumped up. "I need to call my aunt now. I won't have time once we start getting ready to open, and we're always busy on a night like this. Please excuse me!" She darted for the stairs.

"Mahiru!"

"Let her go, Akira," Nozomu sounded tired. "We need to get ready, too."

321 miles didn't pass quickly, especially on a chartered buss with the required rest stops, gassing up, and meal breaks. Every time they stopped, they had to be counted by the teacher in charge, their names checked off the list the teacher carried. Mahiru felt sure she'd be hearing those numbers in her sleep for days to come.

The scenery skimmed past the bus window, not fast enough to be a blur, but not slow enough for her to see any real details. A school outing should have felt like a welcome return to 'normal.' And she was having fun with Junko and the others--though her friends weren't too happy that Keiko Himura had somehow ended up in their group.

Since moving in with the Moonlight Bandits, she'd had precious little time for socializing. Catching up, teasing Junko about Hashiguchi-san, all those little things that had made up her life Before, things she hadn't realized she'd missed until now. She couldn't remember when she'd met up with the others for coffee, or stopped for ice cream after a particularly grueling review session. Her world had changed, and she wasn't sure how much of the old world she could carry into the new, or even if she would be allowed into the new or just left to drift in the space between.

Nozomu said she could always turn her back on them, and maybe Misoka could make her forget all that she'd learned. But the dreams, the warnings from the ancient princess... she'd had those long before she'd met the others. Just leaving wouldn't insure her easy sleep.

Keiko Himura had a seat just ahead and to the left of Mahiru's . She didn't envy Keiko Himura-san's seatmate. The girl rebuffed all efforts to draw her out, just staring out the window, looking bored. Who knew? Maybe Himura-san just didn't like buses, or traveling. Everything she'd seen about Himura-san indicated the girl liked quiet.

Mahiru watched her from the corner of her eye. She hadn't yet returned Himura-san's book. If the loan of the book had been a roundabout way of trying to reach out, what kind of message was Mahiru sending by taking so long to return it? She made a firm mental note to try and talk to the girl at a later time.

Mahiru looked back out the window, resting her fingertips against the glass. She didn't see the Moonshine's van anywhere on the road, but she knew the others were close by. At least, Nozomu was.

"Hey, Duckie, are you all right? Junko leaned over the seat, peering down at Mahiru.

She realized she'd been rubbing the spot above her heart again. "Oh, yeah. I think I just pulled a muscle during drills or something."

She never used to lie, hated lies as much as she hated jokes about death. Falsehood came more easily now, a gloss she spread over the truth. What else about me is going to change? she wondered. Will I even recognize myself when it's over?

Junko tapped her on the head. "A sign you should stay on dry land for a while. That's where the boys are, after all!"

"Hmph.' Mahiru crossed her arms. "And their girlfriends."

"You give up too easily," Junko scolded.

Mahiru sat up. "On, no! No. You're not fixing me up with your cousin, or his roommate, or whoever he is. I told you that."

"Ow, he's a nice guy! I even have a picture of him." Her tone turned wheedling. "Wanna see?"

"Leave it alone, Junko, please?" she pleaded "I don't like talking about this stuff."

Her dark-haired friend sighed and dropped back into her seat. "Your loss."

It had to be her luck, Mahiru mused. Junior high, high school... every crush she'd had turned out to be one-sided. Now, when she couldn't afford an outsider getting close, everyone had a guy they wanted to introduce her to. She could, in all honesty, say there was a guy at work--but then they'd want to meet him.

They didn't arrive at their inn until late afternoon, too late to do any sightseeing, so the teachers just herded them into their rooms. The attendants, all smiling women dressed in colorful kimonos, handed out bedding, and the students spread out their futons in neat rows through the long room.

"I can't believe that Himura witch is in the same room as ours," Junko complained, spreading out her duvet. "Why couldn't she at least be on the other side of the screen?"

"Well, she is, technically," one of the others pointed out.

"She still has to come through here to get there," Junko sniffed. "And with little Miss Ice Princess around, it's going to get really chilly in here."

"Junko, take it easy,' Mahiru protested. "It's not her fault. We're put where the lists set us. It's not her fault, and she's not going out of her way to be nasty."

"Not trying to be nice, either," Junko retorted.

Mahiru shook her head. She really didn't understand why Junko hated Himura-san so much. So far as she knew, the two hadn't even spoken. Sure, Himura-san was pretty, but was Junko. Mahiru's eyes widened, and she grabbed her bag, pretending to dig through it to hide her expression.

Junko really, really liked Higurachi-san. What if Higurachi-san like Himura-san? Oh, that could be a real mess, and it wasn't something a person could ask about, not unless you knew all three parties, and someone asked for your help.

Well, there's not much I can do about it. I mean, I kinda like Himura-san, but Junko is my friend. The others don't like her much either, and I can't speak out against them, it'd be disloyal. The best I can do is keep quiet while they talk about her, and not add anything to it.

She sighed and set a drawstring bag near her pillow. It looked similar to the bags the other girls used to carry toiletries in, but Mahiru's case, this bag held a sleeping bat. Poor Koumori-chan It must be awful to be stuck in there all day. She'd snuck him out at every rest stop, but there'd been no chance to let him fly. I'll let him out when we all go change for bed, she decided. Nobody will be paying attention then, and I won't need him 'keeping watch' while I'm in a room full of my classmates!

With that decided, Mahiru cheerfully trooped down to the washroom when it was her turn, carrying the bag, her pajamas--and her real toiletries bag folded in her pajama top. She accepted a towel from an attendant, thanking her.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth, wishing she had time for a real wash in the shower, but some of the earlier groups had dawdled, and it was getting close to bed-check and lights out. Making sure she was alone, she edged over to a small window and eased it open.

"There you go, Koumori-san," she whispered, watching the bat launching itself into the night. From here, she could see tree limbs from one of the inn's gardens, making black streaks against the dark blue sky. So many stars, and the Moon was nearing full.

I wonder where the others are, she thought. At that 'Moon Palace', or did they somehow follow me here, like at school?

Well no use puzzling that one out. She'd hear from them when they needed her, and if she needed them, she had the bat. Humming to herself, she made her way back to the room assigned to her group. She hurried back in, well aware the teachers had every intention of waking them early. They had a full day ahead of them, tomorrow!

Inside, she found a number of the girls frowning and whispering, casting worried looks towards the dividing screen where the other girls were getting ready for sleep.

"What's wrong?" Mahiru asked, putting her bag down by her futon.

Junko grimaced. "That Himura. Her stupid cell phone went off--I mean, couldn't she have the courtesy to turn it off? Who does she have to talk to at this time of night? She went off with the stupid thing, and hasn't been back, yet."

"Bed-check is in seven minutes," Asako fretted. "If she's not back--"

"That is so typical of her," Junko sniffed, thumping her pillow. "Selfish little beauty queen only thinks of herself."

"Take it easy,' Mahiru soothed. "It was probably an important call, and she lost track of time. I'll go look for her, okay?"

When no-one volunteered to go with her, Mahiru stifled a sigh, and slipped out of the room. No sign of her in the hallway, so Mahiru started to walk. She reached the lobby and found it dim and quiet, not even a guest up late reading. This could be bad, Mahiru thought. Where could she be? Would she go outside, to one of the gardens, maybe?

In her pajamas? Come on! scoffed a practical corner of her mind. She passed one of the glass entrance ways, the one that stood at the apex of the curving drive. Spotting a car with its headlights on, Mahiru ducked back behind a potted plant, embarrassed that a stranger might see her wandering around in her pajamas.

Awfully late to be checking in, though. And that car--it's kind of flashy for a businessman. She frowned, peering through one of the narrow windows that allowed light for the plant.

She saw a figure in a familiar school uniform, standing beside the driver's side. Huh? Himura-san? What is-

She could make out another figure in the car, a man, maybe. The one who called her? Maybe something happened to her family, and they sent someone for her? She stood up on tiptoe to get a better view.

A dark-sleeved arm shot out the driver's window and grabbed Himura-san, dragging her forward. Mahiru hesitated just long enough to see her classmate struggling against the other's grip before she dashed out the sliding door entrance.

She ran straight into the sweep of the car's headlights.

An old fear gripped her. Can't see the car, the road, anything! A bad time to be blinded, while in the path of a car, even if it seemed to be standing still. She could hear the low rumble of its engine, smell the sour stench of drifting exhaust fumes.

"Shiraishi-san!"

The other girl stumbled back away from the car. Mahiru suddenly felt certain she'd read this all wrong, that she'd not only seen something she wasn't supposed to, but interrupted as well. She opened her mouth to stammer out an apology.

The car door opened, and someone stepped out.

"I told you, Keiko. The girl with the beasts at the WPF wore the same uniform as you. I saw enough of her face to know. This is the one."

She couldn't see, but she knew that voice. That voice, which had done so much harm to her friends, that had tried to... Banish? Exorcise? She didn't know--but she knew his name: Hokuto Koudokui, of Dawn's Venus. Her heart began to trip over itself, one beat beginning before another had finished. Something knotted in her chest.

Were Nozomu and the others really nearby? Even if she had the bat, even if she tried to call for help, might Koudokui stop her? She didn't understand the mysterious powers he'd used against the Lunar Race. What could he do to a human? Could help even get to her in time?

"What do you want?" She tried to make her voice sound strong and steady, like Misoka's, but it quavered up and down, a discordant scale.

"Only to talk, Shiraishi-san. Nothing more."

Yeah, right. She squinted. She could just make out the figure of Keiko Himura, standing a little more than arm's length from Koudokui. Why is she just standing there? Does she know him?

"We've sought the beasts,as well as the one who aided them, ever since the WPF," Koudokui continued. He wore a light suit jacket and dark shirt over dark trousers. "And when we found no trace of them, we sought you."

And it would've been easy, Mahiru realized in misery. Her appearance at the WPF, the stupid 'good-luck charm' story that everyone at school seemed to know. Was the meeting at the library an accident? Did they know about me even before the WPF? Was she trying to warn me the day she gave me that book?

"You said you wanted to talk."

"Not here. Come with us, please, Shiraishi-san. There are things about your... friends... " Koudokui said the word like it tasted bad, "that you don't know."

"I know who caused the fire," Mahiru snapped. "I know who came and picked a stupid fight where other people could've gotten hurt!"

Himura-san murmured something. Mahiru thought it sounded like 'got you there.'

"They are an ancient evil, Shiraishi-san, a threat to all our kind."

It sounded more like something he'd memorized and recited for a class than a real opinion. That gave Mahiru a flicker of hope. Maybe she could still turn this back, if she got the right opening. He continued on, as if he couldn't see Mahiru meant to speak.

"There are many people here, Shiraishi-san, including the beasts. People who could get hurt, if we carried out our mandate here. You expressed such concern about the people at the festival... what about your friends? Your schoolmates? I can't promise they won't get hurt if another fight occurs."

The hope fizzled to ash. He was threatening her friends? All of them? The others are here, too? Why didn't they tell me? She knew Akira, Nozomu, and Misoka wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose, but if other humans saw their alter-forms, they'd panic and run. People could get hurt. They weren't just in Kyoto to keep an eye on her, they had work to do. A 'monster panic' could make that work impossible.

And what about Mitsuru? He wasn't anywhere near as careful with his power as he should be. What should I do? She'd literally tossed her one lifeline out the window. Maybe, if she bolted for the door, she could get inside the inn. Even if Koudokui followed her, she could start screaming, and that would bring-

"Come with us, Shiraishi-san, just to talk. I'll have Mutsura leave them alone... for tonight." His right hand shifted, and she caught a glimpse of the lit panel of an open cellphone.

Was there a line open? Was this Mutsura listening to the whole thing? The implied menace sent an icy chill through her. Mutsura--was he the one with the bow? The one who'd hurt Akira? The one who'd come hunting her in the shadow of the black tent? "So you wanna be my target practice, huh?" He'd fired that weird arrow without even knowing if his target was of the Lunar Race or another human. Maybe he didn't care. Could she take the chance of someone like that being around her friends?

What could she do? She wasn't strong, like Akira. Her power didn't work like Mitsuru's or even Misoka's. She was alone. Even if she ran, help might not come in time. One word over that cell phone, just as Misoka had warned...

She'd have to buy time, then. If she didn't get back to the others by lights out, the teachers would start looking for her. Someone would look for her.

"All right. But just to talk, like you said."

"You have my word, Shiraishi-san. Only talk." He stepped aside, and gestured her forward, "Then if you will please come this way, Shiraishi-san."

Hesitantly, she started forward, wondering if they meant to use one of the inn's other entrances. Maybe out into the gardens, even. Koudokui took her arm in a near-painful grip. Mahiru balked.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"Somewhere the beasts won't interfere."

With that, Koudokui literally threw her into the back seat of the dark car.

"Hey!"

She skidded over the smooth leather upholstery, almost hitting her head on the armrest of the opposite door. The car dipped and shook as the other two got in the front and closed the doors. Even as Mahiru reached for the door handle, the locks snapped down.

"Let me out! I said I was willing to talk, not to go off someplace with you! Are you listening to me?"

Ignoring her protests, Koudokui put the car in gear and began to drive away. Himura-san sat in the passenger seat, still silent. Mahiru couldn't see all of the other's girl's face, just her profile, painted in the eerie green light from the dashboard.

"Himura-san, you're part of this?"

The other girl raised her head a fraction. "You're asking my question."

"I asked it first."

"Then, yes. Koudokui is my fiancee. I am the seer for Dawn's Venus," she said with stiff formality. "I am their eyes in time."

"Our compass and guiding star of war," Koudokui said with considerable satisfaction.

Mahiru, watching the other girl's face, didn't think she considered that a compliment.

Why, oh, *why* didn't I keep the bat with me?

When it became clear that nothing she said was going to convince Koudokui to stop or turn the car around, Mahiru fell silent. They drove for less than twenty minutes, judging by the dashboard clock. From the outside, it looked like another of Kyoto's traditional inns. Koudokui cut the engine.

"Just a little farther now, Shiraishi-san."

Mahiru glowered at him.

Outside, they made her walk between them, Koudokui keeping a death-grip on her arm. They went to the top floor, passing a number of closed rooms before stopping before the last door. Koudokui slid back the door and gestured for them to precede him. Inside, Himura-san broke away and went to stand by the wall furthest from the door, ignoring both Koudokui and Mahiru.

"There's no reason to make this uncivilized," Koudokui said. "Would you care for some tea while we talk?"

"No." Mahiru knew she was being rude, but didn't care. Taking her away by force hadn't been part of the agreement.

Koudokui shrugged and turned away from the door. "Very well, then. Since you seem to prefer the direct approach, let me ask you this: are you a willing servant of those beasts?"

"I'm not a servant." Just don't ask me what my role *is*, because I don't know.

"They are the enemies of all humanity, Shiraishi-san. Once, they ruled vast stretches of this land, through trickery and deceit. They posed as gods, and demanded the worship, adulation, and obedience that is owed to the true kami alone."

"Humans have done that, too," Mahiru pointed out.

A choking sound came from Himura-san's corner. Koudokui glared. Himura-san just kept her back to them, but something about her posture told Mahiru the other girl might be... laughing? Judging from Koudokui's expression, he felt it was at him.

"Chosen humans, Shiraishi-san, humans who earned that distinction."

Mahiru didn't even try to hide her skepticism. "That's an opinion, not a fact."

"Perhaps. What cannot be disputed is that these beasts have no regard for human life. They will not be content unless we are returned to what they believe is our proper place: servants, toys, and food."

Mahiru winced. Koudokui's words painted a bleak, cruel picture of the Lunar Race. But he hasn't seen what I've seen. He's never heard them sing, or seen them dance. The only time he's ever seen them was during a fight, and how can anybody say that tells you everything about a person?

"Their outsides might be different," she protested, "but they feel pain and sorrow and happiness, just like we do!"

"Not like we do!" Koudokui shot back. "What gives them pleasure is human suffering and debasement, misery and death. Those cursed powers of theirs serve no-one but themselves. They know nothing of honor or respect for life."

"Where do you get this stuff? It's all crazy hate-talk. I mean, you've said a lot of words, but you haven't said anything that supports them. It's... it's like you're just passing on nasty gossip you heard somewhere."

Himura-san, now facing them, had her hand clapped over her mouth. She looked pale and tense, and... intrigued?

"So you want proof, Shiraishi-san? Hard evidence that you've made the greatest mistake in your life by aiding these monsters?" Koudokui crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not the first human girl to be pursued by a beast of the Moon. It's happened before, over the years. Some we managed to rescue. Others... we found too late. The horror of their ordeal drove them to take their own lives. Many of those girls had families who tried to protect them, only to die in the attempt."

"I don't believe you."

"No?" He glanced back at her, over his shoulder. "So you really believe your parents' deaths were an accident?"

All the air seemed sucked out of the room. Mahiru pressed both hands to her stomach, as if she'd been punched. She remembered the smell of the incense, the weight of the framed picture of her mother, almost too much for her child-hands. The chanting of the priests, her aunt's struggle to hold back her own tears. How does he know about my parents?

Her gaze fell on Himura-san. Keiko Himura, who sat just a few rows away from her in class. Who must have heard her talking with her friends, who had heard the rumors at school. *You* told him, she realized. Whether it was something she'd Seen or overheard, Himura-san knew about Mahiru's parents, and had given that information to Koudokui.

"Y-You-" she choked out, not sure if she meant Koudokui or his fiancee.

Koudokui turned around to face her. "You little idiot. It's a game to them. The one I saw you with, the tengu. Do you know what they do to humans? Let me tell you." He leaned in, until he filled her entire field of vision.

"They kidnap humans to amuse themselves. If their toys break... well, there are always more. Their idea of an evening's entertainment is to set fire to an occupied house. The screams of the dying serve as inspiration for poetry. Who really set that fire at the festival, Shiraishi-san?"

Unbidden, she recalled the flashes of lightning, Mitsuru's white-hot fury made manifest. The lightning had saved the others, including Mahiru herself. Yet the fire...

"Tengu are the foulest kind. They are cruel because it gives them pleasure. It's their art, their joy. They like shiny things," Koudokui continued, his tone lighter now. "Gold and silver jewelry, precious stones, even things like mirrors... or the sheet-metal of a freshly polished car."

Almost against her will, Mahiru remembered the posters in Mitsuru's room. She'd thought they were significant to him because they meant speed and wind. What if Koudokui was right, though? What if... ?

No... no, it's impossible. Mahiru went to her knees, doubling over. Mitsuru's the same age as me! Master Oboro said he wasn't an adult yet. The image of the small tengu-boy playing with a ball flashed through her mind. The boy, she remembered, hadn't looked much older than Mahiru had been when the accident happened. The boy whose parents had mysteriously disappeared at that time.

A coincidence--if it's not a flat-out lie. These guys hate the Lunar Race. They want me to hate them, too.

"Do you want to hear what the wolf-demons do?" Koudokui said, his voice cool. "Or the kitsune? No matter how pretty their false faces, they are still beasts at heart."

"They're not evil," Mahiru gasped out, "Just not like us."

"Neither are viruses, but we don't let them run wild through the populace."

Beasts, viruses. It seemed the members of Dawn's Venus saw room for only one intelligent species on the planet. She looked up and found Himura-san staring at her. Koudokui glanced from Mahiru to his fiancee, then frowned.

"What is it?"

Himura-san looked away. "Nothing."

"You Saw something, didn't you, Keiko?" He seized her by the arm. "Something about her? Are the beasts coming for her?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." Himura-san tugged against his grip.

Mahiru's heart began to pound so hard she thought it might bruise against her ribs. How could she protect her secrets from a Seer? What could Himura-san learn from her, without Mahiru ever knowing she was revealing?

"Then what? I know that look, Keiko. What did you See?"

"Blood,' Himura-san said, her voice sounding oddly distant. "Her blood, the bat-spirit that guards her, an endless night, never to awaken to day..."

Koudokui let her go. "A bat... There was a vampire among them, wasn't there?"

Mahiru stifled a gasp. Nozomu... Koudokui strode towards Mahiru, his expression grim.

"Keiko's Sight has never failed us." He reached down to grab Mahiru's arm. "An endless night? What are these beasts plan-" He broke off, staring.

His grip on her arm had tugged back the cuff of the sleeve of her pajama top. The old bruise from the last time she'd fed Nozomu stood out against her pale skin. In the center of the green-blue splotch were two distinctive red marks.

"You fed them," he accused.

Mahiru stared up at him, unable to find a response. He released her arm, looked at the hand that had touched her, and grimaced. "They use you for food, and still you defend them."

"Hokuto, you don't know--" Himura-san began, clutching at his arm.

"It doesn't matter." The leader of Dawn's Venus looked down at her with icy eyes. "She's been feeding the beasts, keeping them alive. That makes her a collaborator in their crimes, a traitor to her own kind."

"That's not true!" Mahiru protested.

He ignored her. "Mutsura!" he called.

The door slid open, and the young man she remembered with the bow stood at the threshold. He looked like the kind of guy who went to a bad school and hung out with a gang. Wait, isn't he supposed to be back at the inn? Or did Koudokui make that up, to scare me into going along with them? Why hadn't it occurred to her before now that Koudokui might lie? She'd seen for herself the lengths Dawn's Venus would go to wage their secret war. I'm so stupid!

Did that mean he'd also lied about the others being at the inn? Was she really, truly alone?

"Yeah?" Mutsura looked from his fellow Venusians to Mahiru, then back.

"We have a reluctant guest, tonight. Please see that she goes nowhere without my approval."

Mutsura grinned, and Mahiru shrank back. If sharks walked on two legs, they'd have a smile like that.

"Hokuto, would you just--" Himura-san began.

Koudokui barely spared her a glance. With one hand, he pushed Himura-san out of the room, closing the door on her protests.

"No-one comes in, either," Koudokui told Mutsura. "We won't be needing a seer's gifts for tonight's work."

Mutsura raised his brows in silent question.

"She aids the beasts," Koudokui explained. "Even after seeing their true faces, she aids them against her own kind." He broke off, looking away, as if whatever feelings inside him couldn't be made to fit into words.

"A traitor... can still be redeemed," he finished.

Redeemed? That was usually a good word, but the way Koudokui said it, it sounded like a threat. Mahiru stood up.

"You said you just wanted to talk. You gave your word."

He looked back at her, his expression strange. "And I've kept it. Talking is all I will do. Mutsura!'

He started towards her, apparently knowing just what Koudokui wanted. Mahiru backed up a couple of steps. She couldn't let him touch her, couldn't afford to let these people get her luck. Her power, in the hands of those sworn to exterminate the Lunar Race. I am in really big trouble.

The room was small. She had no place to go. Still, she tried, darting around Mutsura, trying to make it to the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed, shifting enough to throw her off-balance and send her crashing to the floor.

"Owww!"

Someone beat on the doorframe. "Hokuto!"

"Let go of me!" Mahiru tried to twist out of his grip, but he just dug his fingers in. A whimper escaped her, rising as much from fear as pain. In her whole life, no-one had raised a hand to her, or deliberately tried to hurt her physically. Except for Mitsuru.

Right now, she'd be glad to see even him, so glad she'd let him call her names and push her around for a week, if he wanted. Just so long as she was away from these people. How could you do this, Himura-san? We're classmates. I never said anything bad about you, never joined in when the others did. How can you stand out there and let them do this?

The banging on the doorframe didn't let up. "Hokuto!"

The leader of Dawn's Venus swore under his breath. Sliding back another door, he disappeared into an adjoining room. He came back moments later with a bag he tossed to Mutsura.

"Make sure she stays put. I'll go calm Keiko down."

The bag proved to contain some kind of thin rope. Mahiru shuddered. What kind of people traveled with stuff like that? Mutsura knew what to do with that rope, too. No matter how she twisted and struggled, he managed to get her hands behind her back, winding the rope tight around her wrists. By the time he finished tying her ankles, Mahiru was soaked with sweat, shaking with anger and fear.

At the door, Koudokui and Himura-san were carrying on a low-voiced argument.

"You promised me you wouldn't start trouble!' Himura-san hissed.

"That was before we knew what she was. The beasts have managed to stay alive this long because fools like her help them. No refuge, Keiko. Remember that. They must have no refuge, anywhere, from anyone!"

"You've finally lost your mind! They're going to notice she's gone!" Himura-san gestured at Mahiru. "And I mean the teachers, the people you can't influence or 'make arrangements' with! What are you going to do, Hokuto? No matter what, this is kidnapping."

Reaching out, Himura-san gripped the lapels of Koudokui's jacket. "You antagonized the Tokyo police last time. Are you trying to add the Kyoto police to the list as well? That inspector is just waiting for an excuse to arrest you after that fire! You can't do these things!"

Koudokui broke her grip easily, holding the girl by the wrists. "I can, because I must. They must be stopped. I'm through arguing, Keiko. The less time I have to work in, the worse it will be. If you're that concerned about your classmate, let me do what I can to save her from the spell the beasts put on her. Keiko..." Koudokui's voice softened. "We're so close. It's almost over. We've already won. This is just the cleanup. Let me do what needs to be done."

"Hokuto, please! We've never crossed that line. Don't do it now!"

"She is the one who crossed the line, Keiko. No refuge, no mercy, no forgiveness. You know that as well as I. Since you object so much, I won't make you part of this, if you leave now. Stay on, and... "

Mahiru wondered what fit in that odd silence. Please, Himura-san, don't leave. Don't leave me with these people.

The sound of the shoji closing signaled the end of her last hope. She ducked her head, squeezing her eyes shut. And they call me the traitor?

"Finish that up,' Hokuto said to Mutsura. "I'll get ready"

Finish? She was already tied up, what was there to finish?

She got her answer when Mutsura ran another length of cord from the bindings on her wrists to loop once around her throat, and back down. If she moved, the loop around her neck would tighten, choking her. He smirked at her expression.

"Just keep still, and you'll have no trouble. In fact, if you're smart, you'll do whatever Hokuto tells you, and this'll all be over."

She kept silent. He shrugged, as if to say, 'I tried,' and went to stand by the door. Koudokui returned a few moments later, dressed in the dark hakama and gi he'd worn at the WPF. Nodding once to Mutsura, he began laying out what looked like fat sticks of sidewalk chalk in various colors.

Moving in a precise rhythm, he began drawing a pentagram around himself and Mahiru. They were just lines of chalk, but Mahiru felt as if a heavy door had slammed shut each time a point was made. Koudokui began to inscribe what looked like mere squiggles and lines in four of the points. She'd seen a pattern like this before, like the one that had swallowed Akira, and imprisoned the others. This pattern looked different, though. The air began to feel close, as if the room had been shut up tight for months. Stale, dead air. Her ears popped in response to the change in air pressure.

What's happening? she wondered. She was sweating again, the cold prickle of fear spreading over her skin. What is he going to do to me?

Koudokui, stern-faced and alien as an ancient warrior from a painting, turned to face her. He stood in the only empty point. He raised a hand, holding up two fingers as if he were a university lecturer giving a speech.

"I will ask you this only once, Shiraishi-san. Will you, of your own will, cease aiding the foul beasts of the Moon?"

She glared at him. Let him figure it out.

His face settled into stony lines. "So be it. The wrong-headed must be restrained when their actions endanger others. Whatever fancy they've woven to seduce you from your own people, tonight, you will learn the truth."

So why does it sound like you're trying to convince yourself? She'd opened her mouth to answer when Koudokui pointed at her.

"Repent."

The word shivered through the air, like sound-waves that kept pouring out after all in hearing range were deafened. Pressure began to built in her head, as if she'd dived too deeply into dark water.

"Repent."

Mahiru shuddered, feeling the word sinking into her. The way he said it, the word had hooks and claws, catching on her thoughts, gouging at her memories. It dug in, scraping away at her resistance. With her hands tied, she couldn't cover her ears, and with the rope around her neck, she couldn't move to escape it, either.

It's like... it's like Misoka's power! she realized. Like the time he asked me my name, and I had to answer. Except she'd complied with Misoka without even thinking about it. Koudokui's power hit like a bag full of bricks, making her want to run away, not comply.

Gasping, Mahiru braced herself as best she could, eyes squeezed shut. The pressure eased a bit, and she felt something trickle over her lips. Nosebleed, she realized numbly. The powers of the Venusians were meant to hurt, even to kill. Even other humans.

"You're the beast!' she choked out, tasting blood. "The real monster!"

"You blind, ignorant little--"

She cried out as he caught a handful of her hair, dragging her head up. She saw the fury in his eyes, the way his other hand shook, as if he'd like nothing better than to hit her. She tried not to flinch. Yume-hime, if I ever needed strength...

He pressed his lips together in a tight, angry grimace. He let go of her, shaking the hand that'd touched her as if the contact had contaminated him. He raised his hand in the same gesture he'd used before.

I can't take much more of this. Blood still trickled from her nose, as if he had hit her. She needed something to hold him off, at least until morning. The others would miss her, would come looking for her. A sliver of memory floated up. The first time she'd seen Nozomu and the others perform, when Oboro had explained their calling. 'Humans were once the same. They sang songs of prayers to the gods... They worshiped the Sun, as we do the Moon.'

'If you're not singing, you're not living.'

'Think of your body as an instrument.'

When a person prayed, they did so in silence-- but that didn't mean that they couldn't be singing inside. A swirling clash of images crashed through her mind: symbols of the sun, of the moon, the wrinkled surface of the sea. Upside down, inside out.

When she'd helped to sing Mitsuru out of his rage, Nozomu had said they needed to focus on a single message to send with the song. She needed something to focus on, to set her song.

Raising his hand, Koudokui traced another symbol in the air. For a moment, it seemed to Mahiru that a glimmer of light trailed in the wake of the young man's fingers.

"Repent."

The word crashed through her skull, smashing against her defenses, a tidal wave of bitter contempt. What a feeble little girl. What a gullible, stupid girl.

Just like something Mitsuru would say. She knew where to stand against someone who said things like that. Some of her panic and dread receded, letting her think more clearly. She needed a message, a focus for her prayer-song. She chose the simplest one, the one cried out to all protective kami since time began.

Help me!

Now, she needed a song. A simple one that she knew well, one that had some kind of connection to her prayer. Something she could concentrate on, no matter what.

There was one song--it had been popular at school, its verses a help in memorizing geological ages for science class. It had one verse that almost sounded like a chant. A chant that called to powers higher than her own, powers that touched her dreams and might be moved to answer. Mahiru summoned the memory of the song, not just the words, but the music as well. The memory of music beat inside her skull, rolling like angry waves. Each cresting wave carried the words, the core of her prayer, higher.

* Rose of the sea, lily of the sea, apple of the sea, flower-bud of the sea *

The sea that she'd loved all her life. The sea that opened itself to her whenever she looked into water, embracing her like a long-missed child. The air inside the space marked by the pentagram began to feel heavy, like on the worst humid day of the year. Thick, like it wasn't just air anymore. Ancient. She thought she smelled saltwater.

"Repent. Return to your own."

No! She wasn't coming out of this place she'd made inside herself. Not for all his hammering and shouting. Her own... She was the Descendant of the Princess, not a Venusian. She had no people here. Again, she saw the faces of her friends from school, the shifting, yet now so familiar, faces of the four members of the Lunar Race she called her friends.

*Angel of the sea, mirror of the sea, door to the sea, mayfly of the sea*

"Know the truth, repent your crime!"

Another cascade of images, distorted and frightening. The last seconds of the last car ride with her parents, before it went wrong. Shadows she never remembered before, reaching out, pulling... A clear day, a clear road... no reason for a crash. Screech of rubber on asphalt, her father cursing as he fought the wheel. A loud boom! as the right tire blew. Her mother, lunging into the back seat. 'Mahiru! Mahiru, don't look!'

She'd always believed her mother hadn't wanted her to see her father die. What if... what if there'd been something outside the car, something her mother, also of the Princess's blood, hadn't wanted her to see?

Mahiru shook her head violently to scatter the thoughts, the images. The rope burned against her throat. I won't listen... he can make me hear, but he can't make me listen! So hard to breathe... so long since she'd heard the song. Focusing past the moment, Mahiru pulled the words from her memory, stacking them like bricks to make a wall between herself and the Venusian.

* You are the sea. I am the sea *

She opened her eyes a crack. The sigils and lines of the pentagram smeared together, forming a bright blur. Just like light on water, she thought. Door to the sea... She crossed worlds in the water. Maybe, just maybe, if she could find that door, she could send herself someplace else, at least inside her own head, someplace Koudokui couldn't follow.

* Like a whale, like a dolphin, like a sea-lion, I travel down into the depths of the great sea. *

She let the words carry her deeper, further down into the underwater world than she'd ever gone outside actual water. Koudokui couldn't find her there. He wouldn't even know where to look. The light turned blue, a pale, shimmering radiance. Ripples, the shadows of fish, sea-fronds, the curious eyes of the deep-sea creatures.

*Down through history, into the depths of the sea, where I find myself.*

She could feel the tug of the ropes binding her, holding her body. Her body was her instrument, one Koudokui didn't know how to silence. She threw her whole self into the silent song, and felt the dry world slip away.

She could still hear Koudokui, his voice muffled and distorted as if she were really underwater. Just noise, now, even though the shocks of his strange magic still shook her.

* In the deep sea, where I can be myself. *

After a time, even the nonsense noise went away.

Mahiru floated in a soft, multi-layered darkness. She could feel the shivering reverberations of dolphin clicks and squeals, the sonorous plain-chant of whales. The world in the water, the world in her dreams, the world she lived in. Finally, she'd woven them together. If waking up meant returning to a world that had people like Koudokui in it, she'd much rather stay here.

'How far does the moonlight reach? And how far the sea?' Distant sea... Nozomu. Did they know she was gone yet? Were they looking for her? Or had they thought she'd run away, abandoned them? Maybe they'd decided they didn't need her anymore. Well, maybe it really didn't matter, so long as she could stay here.

As from a great distance, she heard the door slide back along its track, slowly, as though whoever opened it was trying to avoid making noise. She heard the light, quick pad of bare feet. Mahiru tried not to tense up, to let whoever was in the room know she was awake. Bit by bit, the sea she'd fought so hard to call was fading away. No! she thought in despair. She didn't have the strength to call it back again.

She heard a rustle of cloth, felt someone leaning over her. Wait... was that perfume she smelled? Something cold pressed against her wrists, a sharp tug against the ropes, and the bindings fell away. Next went the bindings against her throat, her ankles.

"I know you're awake."

Mahiru's eyes snapped open. Himura-san?! She could just make out the pale blur of the other girl's face. She wore pale blue pajamas, her hair bound back for sleeping.

"The seal is broken, you'll be able to move." Himura-san said, her voice so soft Mahiru had to strain to hear it. "The others are asleep. Go. Now. Follow the road, keep this place at your back. You'll get back to the inn where the others are."

Mahiru tried to move, but she'd lain in one position for so long, her arms and legs felt numb, heavy and useless. She braced herself on all fours. The rush of returning blood made an agonizing dance under her skin. Pins and needles? This feels more like broken glass!

"Why?" Her own voice barely carried past her own lips.

Himura-san hesitated, then drew back. "Dawn's Venus is supposed to protect humans." She began to back away. "You're on your own, now. Take the ropes with you. If I have nothing of yours, I can't See you."

Himura-san left, as silent as she'd came, leaving her wondering if it had actually been Himura-san or something else. Mahiru remained hunched over in the pentagram, trying to will her muscles to move. Her prayer, it seemed, had been answered. She'd been helped, but not rescued. She'd have to make her own escape from this place.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself up into a crouch. The ropes, cut through, lay like dead snakes on the floor. Mustering all of her concentration, she made her right hand reach out, pick up the severed cords. She still couldn't feel anything besides the pain of returning circulation. This is good, she decided. Pain like this, she could handle. Pain that Koudokui dealt out was another matter. One by one, she closed her fingers over the ropes.

From the crouch, she rose, tottering, to her feet. She concentrated on lifting one foot, putting it down. She still couldn't feel the floor under her feet, but she could feel the change as she stepped over the lines of the pentagram. Her ankles and wrists began to burn, raw flesh exposed to the air.

Himura-san had left the door open just wide enough for Mahiru to squeeze through, if she held her breath. Not a problem for her. Mahiru listened carefully before she eased herself out into the hall. Outside of the pentagram, the numbing fog began to lift from her mind. In its wake came the beginnings of the worst headache of her life.

Mahiru winced, pressing a hand to her temple. They'd hurt Nozomu like this. Protectors of the human race? Who asked them for help? How does hurting other people protect anyone?

A sudden burst of light bloomed behind her eyes, pushing the headache into full, painful force. Mahiru bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. A Teardrop? Here? Impossible!

But only a Teardrop glowed like that. She hesitated, weaving on her feet. Himura-san had told her to leave. By the time she got back to the inn and told the others, the Venusians would realize she was gone and disappear themselves, taking the Teardrop with them. If, indeed, the Venusians had the jewel, and not, say, another guest at the inn.

My luck isn't that good, Mahiru thought glumly. If I'm here, alone, and there's a Teardrop, it has to be in their hands. Because that would be rotten luck, and that's the only kind I have.

She found herself standing before a darkened door. Darkened to her physical eyes, maybe, but her other eyes saw the Teardrop, shining like a star. It seemed it had made her mind up for her. Mahiru put her hand out and began to slide the door back in tiny increments. The sound of her own heartbeat filled her head, so loud she wasn't sure she'd hear any warning sounds before it was too late.

Have to get the Teardrop. If I get it, the others won't have to come here. There won't be another fight. No-one will get hurt.

At last the door stood open enough to let her pass. The room beyond was dark. Holding her breath, Mahiru leaned in. Her physical eyes strained to compensate for moving from the lit hallway to the shadowy room. To her relief, she didn't see any futons or sleeping figures. Instead, she saw what looked like hiker's backpacks piled around some boxes against the back wall.

The Teardrop was in one of those boxes. This close to the room Koudokui had used, these things could only belong to the Venusians. Moving further into the room, she saw a dull gleam of silver from one of the strange arrowheads the bowman used. Somehow, the shapes etched into that arrowhead hurt the Lunar Race. She wished she had the time to break, or better yet, burn them all. Get the Teardrop. Get out. Get away.

Strange colors began to dance at the edges of her vision, the pain in her head increasing to something almost intolerable. Please, she thought, not knowing what she was really asking for, or who to ask it from. The Teardrop's light was making the headache worse. She sank to her knees, hoping she'd be able to get up again. Moving with care- -she didn't want to bump against anything that would clink or clatter- -she reached out. Could she touch the Teardrop without lighting up herself?

She didn't know where the Venusians were sleeping, but they had to be nearby. In an inn like this, the rooms opened in on each other. One could make one big space or lots of smaller ones, just by moving the shoji. If she made noise, or lit up like a giant firefly, it would take no time at all for them to recapture her.

Not without a fight, this time, she thought grimly. She'd scream the place down if she had to, there had to be other people here. With the ropes she had, the marks on her skin, Mahiru felt sure she could get help from strangers just by asking.

But what if this is a... a hideout for the Venusians, or something like that? Then she'd get no help at all. So she'd better be quiet. I know my luck is terrible, but this isn't for me, it's for them. Please, just once, let it work right. I don't care what happens after. Let me get this back to them!

She didn't have to search for the right box. She could see the Teardrop, as if it were in the open, not shut up in a box. Mahiru lifted the lid. Inside, she saw the brilliant shape of the Teardrop, covered with a filmy gauze. She almost cried in relief. The Teardrop was wrapped in something, probably silk. She could pick it up, carry it without reflecting it.

Tears of pain and relief blurred her vision. Her hands seemed to break the surface of a clear pond as she reached in for the Teardrop. Ripples around her wrists, shimmering, like the ones that closed over the first princess and her demon after they fell. I could really step out of this world if I used this, she realized. She could vanish from this inn, leaving no trace for the Venusians to follow.

But I don't know what's on the other side of the water. If I go, I might not be able to come back.

She closed her hands around the Teardrop, lifting it from the box. The ripples smoothed out, until even she couldn't see the water anymore. Got it. Now get up. Get out. Get away.

Clutching her prize against her chest with one hand, she pushed herself up with the other- -and almost fell over onto the stacked bundles. She caught herself, her face inches away from the arrowheads. I can't do this, she thought desperately. I'm just an ordinary girl. This power uses me, I don't use it.

She felt the ghost of a touch, Nozomu's hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, Mahiru. Remember, this is only the beginning of things." Only the beginning of the story. She wanted to know how it ended, wanted to make it a better ending than the ones she'd read. She wanted to see her friends again.

She'd escaped from gun fire on a cruise ship in Tokyo Bay. She'd dived into the Sanzu and returned. She'd run for her life in the middle of a spreading fire. Maybe I can do this.

Mahiru opened her eyes, focusing on her surroundings. Still dark. Still quiet. Just in time, she remembered the severed ropes as well, winding them around the Teardrop to form one lumpy bundle. Pausing at the door, she tried to listen for any sign that she'd woken anyone, drawn anyone's attention.

Her head hurt so much, she felt sick. Her own heartbeat sounded too loud. She'd just have to risk it.

Darting out into the hall, she retraced her steps. For once, luck seemed to be with her: she found another exit, one where she wouldn't have to pass through the main entrance and possibly be seen and remembered. She had no idea what time it was, how close it might be to sunrise. Daylight was her enemy now, the cover of night the only real hope she had to make her escape.

"Keep this place at your back. Follow the road."

I don't know why you decided to help me, Himura-san-san, but I won't forget! Mahiru swore silently. Outside, she instinctively looked around. A gravel path curved away from the inn, leading towards the road. Mahiru winced at the thought of walking on that with bare feet. Hugging the Teardrop tighter, she started out, keeping to the grass for as long as possible.

Eventually, she had to take the path. The small stones felt cold, jabbing at her feet. She found herself wishing for the numbness of before. At least the air helps my head a bit. By the time the gravel path ran out against a paved road, she was starting to limp. This isn't good, she thought in a slow-rising panic. Not good at all. A twenty-minute car trip could be an hour or more on foot, longer, if she got slowed down. The more time she spent in the open, the greater the chance the Venusians would wake up and find both her and the Teardrop missing.

Mahiru took a moment to orient herself, turning her back on the inn where the Venusians slept. She stood shivering on the side of the road. Everything hurt, now, and she was cold. She looked down the road, and had serious doubts as to whether she could make it.

If I don't, if I don't at least try, the Venusians get the Teardrop and me. And it will be even worse than if I hadn't helped the others at all.

Well, then, she'd just have to ignore the pain as best she could. And every step she put between herself and this place was one step closer to where she belonged. They'll look for me, she thought, taking the first painful step. I'll bet they're looking for me now. I probably won't have to go the whole way alone.

She started walking, hoping she remembered enough of the trip in to make it back. With the chunk of Teardrop she was carrying she couldn't afford to take help from anyone else, someone who might call the police. So walk.

The paved road didn't hurt as much as the gravel, but it didn't ease the damage from walking on all those jagged stones. She began humming under her breath, a tuneless scrap of sound to keep herself from noticing the pain.

The shadows seemed to shift around her as she walked. She shuddered, remembering the shadows outside her parents' car, just before they'd hit the guard rail. Seeing things... It was daytime, there couldn't have been any shadows. Clear day, clear road. There shouldn't have been an accident, either. Was it me? Did I make it happen?

She tried to walk faster, to get away from the thought. She could outwalk the words, but not the images. Koudokui's strange power had acted like a stick in a dirty fish tank, stirring up all kinds of things in her mind. No room for darkness, Koudokui had said at the WPF. No room, because the darkness was already there, just like the other world was already there, on the other side of the water.

That darkness inside her head, inside her heart. She could feel it gnawing at her. When the others sang, she felt the softening of shadows, the promise of a light in the darkness. That promise felt empty, now. Just moonshine. She almost laughed at the thought, stumbling onward.

The pain in her head wouldn't let up. It made her surroundings blur and streak together, a nightmare viewed through rain. No light, no shadow. No sun, no moon, no stars. A yawning void that devoured everything. Right after the car had hit the guard rail, the bright day had vanished in a red-spangled cloying darkness. After that, the sun had never seemed as bright, except when it reflected off the water.

The Moon... didn't care about her. She wasn't one of the Lunar Race. She didn't belong anywhere except in a between-place. Not a sun-child, moon-child, star-child.

A nothing-child. A midnight-child, existing only for a moment.

Why hadn't someone found her, yet? How long had she been walking? Just thinking about the passage of time thinned the strange trance she was in, let a little more pain seep in. She tightened her grip on the Teardrop, forced herself to keep walking. Don't stumble. Don't fall. If she fell, she might drop the Teardrop. She giggled to herself. That sounded funny. But if she dropped it, it might break, and then she'd have to find all the pieces, and then she'd get caught because that would take time.

She stole a peek at the bundle in her arms, wincing at the way the light increased the pounding in her head. In the center of the light, she saw other hands, a woman's hands, closing around a sparkling gem the size of a baby's head. Its weight dragged at her, threatened to pull her down before she could complete her task. They have taken his life, they will not take this!

No! Mahiru wanted to shout. Don't do it! You'll make it worse!

But she had no voice in this place, only eyes. All she could do was watch as the other hands lifted the gem as high as possible--then hurl it down with desperate strength.

She felt the gem shatter, the force of impact spreading out along fracture lines, the gem exploding into pieces.

Mahiru groaned, and tore her gaze away from the light inside the Teardrop. She'd stopped moving while the vision had played out. Pearly light stretched upwards from the eastern horizon. Her heart jumped in anxiety. How long had she been standing still? How much time had she lost? She tried to walk faster, but had to slow down again when the pain made her stumble. I hurt, I hurt, I hurt... everywhere.

She was humming again, the folk song, now. 'Princess, Princess, why do you laugh?' Well, because crying hurt too much right now. 'The Minister says that he will hide and protect me.'

"We promise to protect you, Mahiru, so don't you worry about that."

Well, aren't you doing a bang-up job on that! Mahiru winced again. Maybe she shouldn't have thought 'bang' so loudly.

'Princess, Princess, why are you scared?' Who wouldn't be scared? The others weren't coming for her. She was alone. And it was her own fault. She should have screamed. She should have fought harder. She should have done something.

The gem shattered.

It was her fault.

Familiar figures lying under white sheets. Hands pulling her away. Hands reaching up out of the Sanzu.

All her fault.

The darkness was full of moving shapes, shadows that flitted and swirled, hulked and brooded. The darkness was full of brilliant, hungry eyes, watching, waiting. "I say we give this human woman a taste of her own people's medicine."

Shadows, like outside the car. Like inside her head. Maybe it was better, like this. She saw too much, whether from the light in the Teardrop, or the lights in the sky. She didn't belong under any of those lights. No refuge.

A building hove up into view. She stumbled to a halt and blinked at it. It looked so familiar. No, it felt familiar, too. She put her hand over her heart, where the first thread had taken such tenuous root. Opportunity. Hunger. You're just a tool. They just take what they want and leave.

She'd come all this way. It seemed stupid to quit now. She pointed herself at the building and took the first step. Mahiru heard a soft, whimpering sound, realized it came from herself. She should stop that, she thought. Someone might hear her, try to stop her. If she stopped one more time, she knew she'd never be able to move again.

"Mahiru! Mahiru, where have you been?"

She recognized Junko's voice, and those of her other friends. Not their voices, though. They weren't here. They hadn't even known she was gone. She looked down, saw she was standing on a thin carpet. She didn't remember walking inside, but she must have, must have forced herself past those limits.

"You were gone all night, Mahiru. You're in deep trouble, girlie. We're all in trouble!"

Her fault. Again.

A hand tugged on her shoulder. Obediently, she swung around, but didn't try to lift her head any higher. It really hurt too much.

"Oh, my God."

"Somebody get a teacher!"

Her fault.

Lights out.

-tbc-

Asako: In the Afterword of vol. 1 (my copy, at least), this is given as a human name, but by vol. 4, hasn't been matched up with anyone. I decided to use if for Mahiru's light-haired friend with the short spiky hair.

kegare: In reality, pollution, defilement, or waning of life energy. Roughly corresponds with shi or sha chi in feng shui. Something I expect you'd find in the dwelling place of a dying people! Used here as a kind of 'bad vibe' that one might feel in a house where there was death or sickness or violence.

kaso: practice similar to Chinese geomancy, determines auspicious and inauspicious directions, earth energies, and other forces that can effect the safety and security of a building and the humans within it.

omairi: In reality, this is an act of veneration or worship performed by a visitor entering a Shinto shrine to pray and/or pay respects to the kami. With deep respect for those who do practice this religion, I've used this word to reflect how the Lunar Race integrates everyday, mundane things like recycling or designing energy-efficient machinery into their veneration for Nature while living in the human world.

The interpretations and artistic license I've taken with these words are my own, and should not be considered 100 percent accurate translations/transliterations.

Quoted Songs: (in order)
Paleozoic of the Flesh (J.A. Seazer)
Getsumei Fuuei; Illusion of a Shadowed Moon, Mika Arisaka