Seven Deadly Shadows by Courtney Alameda and Valynne E. Maetani

Author:Courtney Alameda and Valynne E. Maetani
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2019-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Kōgakkan High School

Kyoto, Japan

Within days, the snows come for real.

I usually love the cold season, especially at the shrine’s high elevation, where snow hushes everything with a thick white blanket. In winter, the shrine’s eaves glitter with icicles, and the world smells pristine and pure.

But today, the fog creeping through the shrine fills me with a deep sense of foreboding. My anxieties shook me awake before my alarm, and I spent the morning worrying about everything from the upcoming Culture Day festivities to Shuten-doji to the scuff on my favorite shoes. Anxiety likes catching me alone and unawares. It’s been worse lately, especially as the second week comes to a close.

Shuten-doji has become an obsession; I fall asleep reading articles about him on my phone, and sometimes catch myself humming Kagome, Kagome in the shower.

I’ve never laid eyes on him, and yet I see him everywhere. Every time I spar with Roji, I sense Shuten-doji’s gaze on me. When I search for the missing shard with Shimada, Shuten-doji seems to inhabit every shadow. No matter what I do, he’s there. Watching. Waiting.

“You okay?” Shiro asks as we walk to school. “You’ve been quiet this morning.”

“I’m fine,” I say, shooting him a thin smile.

“Liar,” he says, and reaches out to take my hand. Normally, I’d try to pull away from this sort of gesture in public; for now, I crave the reassurance. I walk a little closer, letting our long coats hide our hands from sight. He squeezes my hand. I squeeze back.

The snows have hushed Kōgakkan’s grounds. Students hurry across the quad, tucked tight into their coats, heads down. Umbrellas dot the outdoor areas like winter flowers. Inside, students shake snow from their hair and brush the icy flakes off their shoulders. And everyone comments on the strange depth of the December cold.

Despite my sense of foreboding, the day feels unremarkable. One class drags its feet by, stumbling into the next. My teachers blare on. Students take dutiful notes around me. On days like this, it seems crazy that everyone around me remains so blissfully unaware of the dangers barreling toward us.

There are days I wish I was like them, and days I’m glad not to be.

After school, Shiro waits for me outside homeroom, where Hotohori-sensei asked me to stay behind to discuss my grades. Rather than lecture me while I remain in my seat, she and I lean against her desk, staring out at her empty classroom. While all my teachers are excellent, I sense that Hotohori-sensei really cares about me as a person.

I’m worried about you, she says.

You always seem tired these days, but today, the burden seems greater than usual.

I’m concerned your grades may slip if this continues much longer.

Is there something I can do to help you, Fujikawa-san?

I wish I could tell her what’s going on in my life, but honesty won’t help either of us. She’s right that I’m tired all the time: if I’m not at school, I have a sword in my hand. If I’m not training with Roji, I’m working on learning my mudras with Shiro or Goro.

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