“Shaman clan?” I echoed. “Is that some kind of joke? I’m not from anyclan.”
Raiden rolled his eyes. “Everyone of Japanese descent is from some kind of clan. What’s your name?” A suspicious glint entered his eyes. “You look familiar for somereason.”
“Aika Fujiwara.”You look familiar too,I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. Frowning, I mulled over his words. Sure, maybe back hundreds of years ago Fujiwara had been a clan, but I didn’t know much about my family history. As far as I knew, I’d been born and raised here inAmerica.
My father had died when I was little, and my mother had never remarried, so she’d raised me on her own. An unexpected pang of sadness hit me as I remembered how, when I was little, my mom had always stared at the picture of the two of them she’d kept by her bed before she turned in for thenight.
She prayed for his soul every night, hoping that he had found peace in the afterlife. And I could tell from the look in her eyes whenever she talked about him that she was still deeply in love with him. She often said that if the cancer did take her, at least she would get to see himagain.
“Are you all right?” Raiden asked, as my eyes began to sting. His gaze softened with concern, ruining my preconceived notion about him being an overbearingasshole.
“I’m fine.” Embarrassed, I tried to blink the tears back, but one slipped down my cheek. Angry, I swiped at it. “Why are you asking me about my family anyway?” And why was I getting so emotional? Was the recent incident with my mother bringing all these feelings back to the surfaceagain?
“Because I wanted to know if you were from a shaman clan, since it’s obvious you can see spirits,” Raiden said matter-of-factly, as if crazy talk weren’t spewing out of his mouth. He leaned against the back of a steel refrigerator, studying me with eyes so dark they were nearly black. “I’m not familiar with the Fujiwara name, but it’s possible you could be from some obscure shaman clan that died outsomewhere.”
My skin went ice-cold. “Spirits?” I echoed. “You’re trying to tell me that thing was aghost?”
Raiden nodded. “TheKuchisake-onna,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see her around here, but I guess she migrated over somehow. I had hoped to capture her, but you screwed it up by screaming your head off when she took off themask.”
I glared, about to protest, when suddenly the memory that had been niggling me earlier burst forward. I’d read about theKuchisake-onnain a Japanese fairy tale book my mother had given me when I was ten—far too young, to be honest, because some of the tales were prettygruesome.
TheKuchisake-onnawas a woman whose face had been slashed open by her husband after he found out that she’d cheated on him, and she’d returned as a vengeful spirit to torment him. She carried akatana, and always either wore a mask over her face or covered it with a fan or scarf. The tale went that when she came across a man, she would ask him whether or not she was pretty. If the man said yes, she would take off her mask and ask him again. If he answered no, or screamed, she’d slash him from ear to ear so that he’d resemble her. If he said yes, she’d walk away…only to follow her victim home and brutally murder him that samenight.
A win-winsituation.
“How exactly were you planning on subduing her?” I asked. “Since theKuchisake-onnakills regardless of youranswer?”
“Ah, so you are familiar with the tale.” Raiden’s eyes glinted with something like approval. “There are ways to get around it by giving confusing answers that are either yes or no. The plan was to catch her off guard and use one of my own spirits to help subdue her. But I hadn’t gotten to that part yet.” His lips thinned. “She’ll probably kill someone elsetonight.”
Guilt swamped me at the idea that the crazy, sword-wielding woman was still out there because of something I had done. “I just don’t understand how she can be a ghost,” I protested. “Aren’t ghosts non-corporeal?”
Raiden shrugged. “Some of them are, which is why shamans have to join with them in order to use their powers. But a ghost with a grudge is a powerful thing. Killing her own husband didn’t bring theKuchisake-onnapeace—it only corrupted her heart further, which is why she can’t pass on. It is the duty of a shaman to purify these souls so they can move on to theafterlife.”
I pressed the heel of my hand against one of my throbbing temples. So many questions were swirling through my head, questions I could spend all night asking. But foremost in my mind was the desire to shut myself in my room, crawl under the covers, and pretend like this had never happened. I had no room in my life for ghosts. I might be areikipractitioner, but I was pragmatic. I didn’t believe inghosts.
“Look, I’m sorry I screwed up your…purification ritual…or whatever it was you were trying to do,” I said. “But I don’t really have time for all this. I have to get home to mymother.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never seen a ghost before today?” Raiden’s eyeswidened.
I shook my head. “Nope. And I don’t plan on seeing one ever again.” I pushed myself upright, then made to move past him. “Nice meeting you,Raiden.”
Raiden slapped a hand against the opposite wall, nearly clotheslining me. “Oww!” I complained as my chest slammed into his rock-hard forearm. He had some serious muscles hiding underneath that shirt and jacket. “What is yourproblem?”
“You can’t just walk away from this,” he said. “Once you gain the Sight, you have it for life, Aika. It’s not something you can wishaway.”
I scowled. “Well I’m damn well going to try,” I snapped, shoving at his arm. Unfortunately, my attempts to move it were about as effective as shoving at a brick wall. “Are you going to let me go? You can’t hold me hostage in a restaurant all night. Fifty bucks can only buy you so much time.” I slid my gaze sideways, toward the chef, who was watching us again. I knew that if things got violent he would step in—it wasn’t in his best interests to have a fight break out in hiskitchen.
Raiden sighed. “At least let me take you home,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon, and you’ve lost yourbike.”
I cursed. “I have to go back and get it,” I said, ducking under his arm. “It’s my only mode oftransportation!”
Raiden snagged my wrist, pulling me to a stop yet again. An electric current shot through the veins in my inner arm at the skin-on-skin contact, and I jerked, startled. His eyes flashed, as if he’d felt the same thing, and suddenly there wasn’t enough air in my lungs. He was way tooclose.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly, to my surprise. “I’ll pay for you to replace it. It’s not safe for you to be wandering around, especially now that you can see the ghosts. They don’t like knowing that others can see them for who they really are, and if you don’t know how to defend yourself you can getkilled.”
An icy chill rippled down my spine at the dire note in his voice. As much as I didn’t want to believe Raiden, I also didn’t want to get myself killed by my closed-mindedness. Better to be safe than sorry,right?
“Fine,” I said. “I live in the Richmonddistrict.”
