“Kaori,” Jiro said, still almost shouting. “You can’t possibly be on Yui’s side?! She threw a flaming log at me! What kind of education did her parents give her?”

“It was a branch, not a log.” Kaori took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Jiro … You shouldn’t have said that about her parents.”

“Why?! I know I’m right about this. That’s no way to behave.”

“She … Yui is an orphan.”

He stopped. “What?”

“Her parents died in an accident when she was two. She doesn’t even remember what they look like.”

“Oh …” He looked over in the direction where Yui had disappeared. In the moonlight, he could just make out the faint outline of her silhouette near the cliff’s edge. She seemed to be hugging her knees and looking out at the ocean.

“Yui doesn’t like for people to know this, but …” Kaori shrugged. “None of her relatives wanted her. They said she was creepy, cold, dark. So Ichizo took her in, saved her from the orphanage. He raised her like his own granddaughter. That’s why the bathhouse means everything to her. It’s the only family she knows.”

Gramps? That pervy old man did that? Jiro sat down by the fire and held his head. Now he didn’t know whether to feel like a victim or a victimizer.

“I feel bad for Yui, but that’s not entirely fair to Jiro,” Aya said. “He didn’t know that about her. And she did throw a flaming branch at him, without warning.”

Kaori stretched out her legs, putting her bare feet toward the fire. She wriggled her toes. “Yui is like that. She’s a quiet girl but quick to anger. She’ll be alright after some time. As for what angered her … Yui is very sensitive to certain kinds of”—Kaori glanced at Aya and hesitated—“certain kinds of insinuations.”

Aya cocked her head. “Insinuations? But all Jiro said was that she was eating for two people … Wait … You can’t possibly mean she’s pregnant?”

Kaori laughed. “No, no. Of course not. But never mind that,” she said, clearly trying to change the subject. “Let’s finish eating. Don’t worry about Yui. She’ll come back when she calms down.”

Kaori was right. Sometime after they finished eating, Yui shuffled back to the fire and sat down next to Kaori. Not once did she meet Jiro’s eyes or even look in his direction. To escape the awkward silence, Jiro took his empty bento container to the campsite’s sink area and began to wash out the plastic packaging.

A few minutes later, Kaori came up in front of him and leaned over the sink. Her windbreaker was unzipped slightly, revealing her cleavage under the tube top.

“What?” said Jiro grumpily. “Are you here to tease me or to make me feel even more guilty?”

Kaori shook her head. “There’s something else I wanted you to know about Yui … I didn’t want to say it in front of Aya.”

Jiro tried to hide his curiosity by scrubbing harder.

“There’s another reason why Yui was so hurt by your comment,” said Kaori. “It’s her blood.”

Jiro paused, sponge in hand. “Her blood?”

“Remember when I said each member of the bathhouse staff has some kind of spiritual blood? Well so does Yui. And having spirit blood isn’t just about seeing kaiju or other monsters. It also gives us various … attributes.”

“Attributes?”

“I guess you could call them abilities. In Yui’s case, I think she would prefer to call it a curse.”

“That’s new to me. So you have an ability? And I have one?” He snorted. “I hope you’re not going to tell me my allergies are a kind of magic power.”

“You’ll learn about your abilities in time I’m sure,” said Kaori, dodging the question. “As for Yui … I don’t want to say too much without her consent, but let’s just say it’s a big part of why she is the way she is.”

“You mean why she’s angry and rude and acts like she’s eight instead of eighteen?”

Kaori sighed. “Now you’re just keeping a grudge. But do try to understand.”

“It’s hard to understand when you haven’t really given me any information.”

Kaori shrugged. “I probably told you too much already. Yui will tell you if she decides to.” She turned to go in a swish of brown hair and a whiff of lavender. “Just be careful, okay? A random comment can be more hurtful than you imagine.”

#

Some hours later, after the girls had gone to sleep, Jiro went out to the cliff’s edge and sat staring out at the sea. A cold wind was blowing, and he could hear waves crashing on the rocks below. He sighed. Kaori and Yui were asleep in the tent naked, and now he wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.

He felt bad about Yui and wanted to apologize, but he also felt like a victim. It wasn’t his fault that Yui never spoke a word. Or that nobody at the bathhouse had told him a thing about her history. Now he felt like a trapped animal again.

He dangled his feet over the cliff edge and peered down at the rocks below. It would be so easy just to slip off … let it end here, he thought, playing with the idea. But he pushed that thought away. Ever since what had happened to Misha, Jiro had learned to hate the idea of suicide. It reminded him too much of her. “Besides,” he said out loud, “This isn’t really a big deal. Just a silly little argument. We’ll forget about it all by tomorrow.” He stood up and patted the grass and gravel off his shorts.

Jiro paused. He could hear a strange sound behind him, coming from the direction of the tent. A low, desperate moan, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the ocean wind.

“Hiroto … Hiroto …”

Jiro turned slowly to face the voice. And froze. There, striding slowly toward him over the grass, was Yui. She held a blanket around her slender torso, hiding her shoulders and breasts, but her legs and tiny feet were completely bare. In the moonlight, she looked even more like a porcelain doll.

“Yui …” Jiro whispered. “What are you …”

“Hiroto …My dear Hiroto …” The words were coming from Yui’s throat. But something was off … It was not Yui’s voice. Too deep and hoarse: it was the voice of an older woman. And the way her lips moved … Was it Jiro’s imagination, or did her lips move out of sync with the words?

“Hiroto?” said Jiro, very conscious of the cliff edge behind him. “Who is that? Are you okay, Yui?”

Yui padded closer over the grass, taking slow steps. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She was looking straight at Jiro, but somehow, he felt like she was seeing someone else.

When they were almost close enough to touch, Yui stopped. “Hiroto …” said the voice from her mouth. “I waited, and waited … so long …” Slowly, Yui’s slender fingers unfurled, releasing the blanket around her shoulders. It fluttered away in the wind.

Now she was naked from head to toe. Jiro swallowed. He could clearly see the small mounds of her breasts, the tiny pink nipples, the cleft between her legs. Her skin was smooth, pale. There was not a single hair anywhere. And in the moonlight, she almost seemed to glow. From somewhere on her body came a sweet scent, like chestnuts roasting on a fire.

Jiro swallowed and forced himself not to step back. A single misstep was all that separated him from a sheer drop to the rocks below.

“Yui … are you okay? If you’re angry about what I said … we c-can talk about it …”

Yui took another step. “Finally, finally … Hiroto my love … We can be together again …” Jiro shuddered. The irises in Yui’s eyes had faded away, leaving only jet-black pupils. Her hair floated and weaved in its own way, ignoring the wind.

“Yui … are you sleepwalking?” said Jiro. “Is that it? I don’t know anyone named Hiroto. Come on, it’s dangerous here. Let’s head back to the tent …” He took a step forward.

And that was when she pounced.