groaned and rolled over, squashing my face into my pillow. My eyes felt like someone had poured sand into them. Last night the Dream had left me alone for the first time in weeks – but only because I couldn’t sleep. How could anyone sleep after what I’d seen last night?
It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be. None of it. Could it?
I didn’t know what was going on. Maybe Jack was right and someone had spiked my drink. Or maybe… Maybe there really was something uncanny about Ojiichan’s sword. Either way, I knew I should try again this morning to put the katana back. I knew I should. I couldn’t get away with hiding an ancient deadly weapon under my bed for ever. What would happen when Mum went to hoover under there? If I put it away, all this would stop. Everything would go back to the way it was before.
Right?
The memory of the agony I’d experienced in the attic last night made me shiver. I curled up into a ball as icy sweat prickled up on the back of my neck.
The quiet knock on the door had me jolting upright, my hand shooting down over the side of the bed to where I’d stashed the katana.
“Mio? Are you awake?”
I sagged back against the pillows. “Yeah. Come in.”
Rachel pushed the door open, a mug of tea in her hand. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
“All right,” I said warily. “Why? What’d Jack tell you?”
Rachel put the mug down on the nightstand and immediately started nosing through the contents of my bookcase, taking the haphazardly piled paperbacks off the shelves, whacking the dust off against her jeans and then putting them back neatly, spine out. “Just that you came over a bit funny at the party and had to come home early. She said you might need a doctor’s appointment.”
“No!” I heard the echo of my own voice and swallowed as Rachel turned to me in surprise. “I mean, I don’t need to see a doctor. Honest. It was just really hot and I’d been dancing and maybe Jack should have let me eat dinner—”
“Hey,” Rachel said. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit feverish.”
I glanced away from her, shamed by the concern on her face – and realized that the torn-up, dirty remains of my kendogi costume were lying half out from under the bed. In a burst of adrenaline, I leapt up and dropped my duvet over the telltale swatch of tattered black fabric.
“Look,” I said, doing a little spin on the rug. “I’m totally fine. If I go to the doctor you’ll need to tell Mum and Dad, and I really don’t want to worry them on their holiday. They deserve some time off.”
Rachel’s face softened. I could read the words
She’s such a considerate little thing
scrolling through her brain. There are times when looking puny and defenceless can work for you. The bunny rabbits on my pyjama bottoms probably helped, too.
“There’s no need to do cartwheels – I’m convinced,” she said. “But I think Jack feels guilty. Since it’s an alien emotion for her, she doesn’t know how to deal with it. The moping is getting on my nerves. Drink your tea and come cheer her up.”
“Right-oh. Will do. Thanks,” I said, herding her swiftly towards the door.
When it had shut behind her, I yanked the duvet up and stared at my kendo uniform. It was in tatters. That was proof
something
had happened. Some parts of what I remembered had to be real.
But which parts?
I knelt down next to the bed and dragged the katana out into the light, holding the saya in both hands. As soon as I touched it, a familiar warm, tingling sensation started in my palms.
“Is this really all about you?” I whispered. The tingling turned into a sharp buzz under my fingers – almost like an electric shock. I flinched, dropping the sword onto the bed. He lay there on the white sheet, the glossy black lacquer and golden flowers gleaming in the morning light. He was beautiful, but he was just a sword.
It
was just a sword. A
thing
.
I picked him – it – up again.
The saya and hilt pulsed
It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be. None of it. Could it?
I didn’t know what was going on. Maybe Jack was right and someone had spiked my drink. Or maybe… Maybe there really was something uncanny about Ojiichan’s sword. Either way, I knew I should try again this morning to put the katana back. I knew I should. I couldn’t get away with hiding an ancient deadly weapon under my bed for ever. What would happen when Mum went to hoover under there? If I put it away, all this would stop. Everything would go back to the way it was before.
Right?
The memory of the agony I’d experienced in the attic last night made me shiver. I curled up into a ball as icy sweat prickled up on the back of my neck.
The quiet knock on the door had me jolting upright, my hand shooting down over the side of the bed to where I’d stashed the katana.
“Mio? Are you awake?”
I sagged back against the pillows. “Yeah. Come in.”
Rachel pushed the door open, a mug of tea in her hand. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
“All right,” I said warily. “Why? What’d Jack tell you?”
Rachel put the mug down on the nightstand and immediately started nosing through the contents of my bookcase, taking the haphazardly piled paperbacks off the shelves, whacking the dust off against her jeans and then putting them back neatly, spine out. “Just that you came over a bit funny at the party and had to come home early. She said you might need a doctor’s appointment.”
“No!” I heard the echo of my own voice and swallowed as Rachel turned to me in surprise. “I mean, I don’t need to see a doctor. Honest. It was just really hot and I’d been dancing and maybe Jack should have let me eat dinner—”
“Hey,” Rachel said. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit feverish.”
I glanced away from her, shamed by the concern on her face – and realized that the torn-up, dirty remains of my kendogi costume were lying half out from under the bed. In a burst of adrenaline, I leapt up and dropped my duvet over the telltale swatch of tattered black fabric.
“Look,” I said, doing a little spin on the rug. “I’m totally fine. If I go to the doctor you’ll need to tell Mum and Dad, and I really don’t want to worry them on their holiday. They deserve some time off.”
Rachel’s face softened. I could read the words
She’s such a considerate little thing
scrolling through her brain. There are times when looking puny and defenceless can work for you. The bunny rabbits on my pyjama bottoms probably helped, too.
“There’s no need to do cartwheels – I’m convinced,” she said. “But I think Jack feels guilty. Since it’s an alien emotion for her, she doesn’t know how to deal with it. The moping is getting on my nerves. Drink your tea and come cheer her up.”
“Right-oh. Will do. Thanks,” I said, herding her swiftly towards the door.
When it had shut behind her, I yanked the duvet up and stared at my kendo uniform. It was in tatters. That was proof
something
had happened. Some parts of what I remembered had to be real.
But which parts?
I knelt down next to the bed and dragged the katana out into the light, holding the saya in both hands. As soon as I touched it, a familiar warm, tingling sensation started in my palms.
“Is this really all about you?” I whispered. The tingling turned into a sharp buzz under my fingers – almost like an electric shock. I flinched, dropping the sword onto the bed. He lay there on the white sheet, the glossy black lacquer and golden flowers gleaming in the morning light. He was beautiful, but he was just a sword.
It
was just a sword. A
thing
.
I picked him – it – up again.
The saya and hilt pulsed
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