Barely lifting her eyes from the book, Maiko took attendance.
When she got to Kara’s name, she paused and looked up. Again, she seemed about to speak, but then shook her head and returned to her task. Kara had no idea what the girl had on her mind, but something was troubling Maiko deeply.
For the rest of the day, Kara tried her best to focus. By early afternoon, she had to accept that her best would not be good enough. Even the breaks between classes, when she could get up and chat with Miho and get a breath of fresh air by an open window, didn’t seem to help. Half of what she’d heard today had gone in one ear and out the other. Her notes were a mess. Between the distracting thoughts that kept popping up in her mind and the way her whole body seemed to just hang wrongly on her bones, exhaustion dragging her down, she felt that if she had to spend one more minute sitting on the hard wooden chair, she would scream.
When her father came in to teach his class, Kara wanted to run up and hug him. But he was Harper-sensei in the classroom, not her dad. Still, he smiled at her, and a few times he gave her looks of parental concern, obviously noticing that something was wrong. That alone was enough to restore her spirits a little. Besides, just because she was American didn’t mean she would automatically pass American Studies.
As the clock ticked away the afternoon-the end of the school day still seemed far away-she glanced out the window. An old cypress tree grew near the school, thriving and alive. The wintry cast to the sky had receded and now only pure blue remained.
Her father was discussing the three branches of American government, and she forced herself to pay attention. But as she pulled her gaze away from the window, she saw that Maiko had her head down. Exhausted as she was, Kara’s first reaction was envy. The thought made no sense. The moment her father saw that the girl had fallen asleep on her desk, she would be in big-time trouble. He had explained to Kara that the code of conduct at the school was very strict. At home, he might have let something like that slide, but he would have no choice but to punish her in some way. Harper-sensei would give her an extra assignment rather than make her sit on her knees in the hallway as some teachers would do.
At her desk, Maiko began to shiver, as though she was cold. Still asleep, head on her arms, she gave a tiny gasp, then a low murmur. Kara narrowed her eyes, staring at the girl. Then Maiko began to whimper in her sleep, and she understood.
Maiko was having a nightmare, right there in class.
Kara trembled, skin prickling with goose flesh. Just the thought of her own nightmares made her pulse quicken.
Most of the class was looking at Maiko now. Kara’s father had ignored her as long as he could, but now, at last, he started walking toward the sleeping girl’s desk. All Kara could think about was that whimpering-what was Maiko dreaming about to cause her to make that sound?
Her father tried to shake the girl awake. Kara couldn’t watch. She looked away, glancing toward the door to the hall.
A cat stood poised just beyond the open door.
Kara jumped in her seat, heart racing, staring at the feline. For a second, she feared she might be dreaming, that if she turned and looked at her classmates again, the girls would have no faces. The cat had red and copper fur, and she had seen it before… had seen it fall to the ground amid the remembrances left at the shrine for Akane, down by the water. It had collapsed as though struck by lightning, and she’d been sure it was dead before it had gotten up and darted off into the woods.
For several seconds, Kara and the cat just stared at each other.
It opened its jaws in a silent hiss, back arching. Kara froze rigid, breath catching in her throat.
Maiko gave a yell as she woke. Several kids in the class laughed, though most remained silent, fearing some punishment themselves. Kara turned to look at Maiko, saw the confused look on the girl’s face, and the relief-she might be in trouble, but at least she was no longer trapped in that dream.
Or maybe she is. Maybe we all are, Kara thought, turning back toward the door.
The cat was gone.
It undid her. Kara took a long, shuddering breath and brought both hands up to cover her face, rubbing at her tired eyes. She opened her hands as though playing peekaboo, and still the cat was nowhere to be seen.
She half rose, ready to rush from the room, to search out the cat, to find out who it belonged to and what the hell it was doing here, and why it haunted her dreams. But then she saw her father staring at her, brow furrowed in consternation and concern, and she sat back down.
The class dragged on forever. Kara fidgeted in her chair, not hearing a word, not able to focus at all. She watched Maiko in case she fell asleep again, studied her classmates to see if any of them looked tired, and every minute or so her gaze strayed nervously to the doorway. The frisson of fear that had prickled her skin had not receded at all.
When her father finally slid the door closed, trying to get her attention back, that only made it worse. Without being able to see into the corridor, she could easily imagine the cat still there. She knew all of this was paranoia and sleep deprivation, but knowing didn’t help. She needed to get out of school, to go home and get some rest while the sun was still up. It would be worse after dark.
When at last the class ended, her father beckoned for her to follow him out into the corridor. Today he’d worn a dark jacket and black tie, and Kara flashed to her mother’s funeral, to a vision of her father standing beside her grave in grim funeral clothes. He wore something similar every day to teach at Monju-no-Chie School, but the comparison had never occurred to her before. Now she’d never be able to erase it from her mind.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked in English. They’d agreed on no English in school, but there was less chance of being overheard this way.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“ Kara.” His tone said it all-she wasn’t fooling either of them. “You looked like a deer in headlights in there. You’re either scared of something or you’re on drugs, and it damn well better not be the latter.”
She looked at him, forced herself to focus on his eyes, and then she took a deep, shuddery breath and let it out in a long sigh. Her back and shoulders and neck were knotted up with tension, and she felt the muscles relax.
“I haven’t been sleeping well. I think… I don’t think I’m the only one. I was getting freaked out in there, but I’m all right.”
He looked dubious. Kara took his hands in hers and squeezed.
“Really, Dad. I’ll be okay. I think everyone’s on edge ’cause of what happened to Jiro. The weirdness is like a cloud around here. It’ll blow over.”
He had to get to his next class, but it was obvious he was reluctant to go. Finally he nodded.
“Okay. But you really need sleep, kiddo. I’ve got some Ambien. I know you don’t like to take that stuff-”
“Are you kidding?” Kara said quickly. “I’ll make an exception.”
Her dad smiled. “All right. I’ll see you later. If you start getting really antsy, just tell the teacher you’re sick and come find me.”
Kara would never do that. They had to fit into the culture of the school, and Japanese students at Monju-no-Chie School weren’t about to beg off class unless they were throwing up or too weak to get out of bed. Their parents weren’t going to coddle them, either. Her father would lose some of the respect of his peers if she behaved that way, and more if he seemed to condone it. She wouldn’t do that to him.
“Sure,” she lied.
Her father headed off to teach his next class and she went back into the room, glancing around first to make sure there was no sign of the cat. It made her feel a little better to know she would be able to sleep that night.
But not much. Whatever the weirdness was, it was just as contagious as the dreams. The more people had trouble sleeping, the more irritable they got. That was only natural. But that didn’t explain the cat-the same creature that she’d dreamt about-showing up just as Maiko had been having her nightmare, almost like the cat knew. Or as though it had brought the nightmares to her itself.