CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MORNING VIEW

I stepped out of my room—and she was there.

 Standing at the end of the hallway.

 Still. Silent. Watching. 

 Her golden eyes caught the morning light in that unnatural way, pupils narrowing into thin slits before widening again—like she was adjusting to the sight of me.

 And for a split second, I had the overwhelming, gut-deep certainty that she wasn't looking at a person.

 She was looking at a puzzle.

 At something she didn't quite understand.

 And that was unsettling as hell.

 "Ryu," Yuki murmured. "It's just Natsumi."

 Nekomata.

 I'd already met one vampire. A ghost. A tanuki. And now? A cat girl. Two-tailed. Mischievous. Probably dangerous.

 I'd read enough manga to know that nekomata weren't just cute girls with ears and tails. They were predators.

 And this one?

 She was sizing me up.

 "Natsumi?" I said.

 Her ears twitched slightly.

 "You're not going to tell Natsume good morning?" she asked.

 She wasn't talking to me.

 "Oh! I'm sorry. Good morning, Natsume! I've been helping Ryu-san get used to thing around the onsen."

 Natsumi barely moved.

 One of her eyebrows twitched, slightly.

 Barely even noticeable.

 "Hmph. Good morning, Yuki," she finally said.

 Then her eyes moved to me.

 "You. Be ready for tonight. You work with Natsumi. Don't be late. Nya."

 With that, she turned on her heels and walked back upstairs.

 The way she moved – her bones seemed to float under her skin – made my own skin want to crawl.

 It was more than that, though.

 Her voice possessed an inhuman, feline whine, just below the surface.

 It gave everything she said an undercurrent that grated on my nerves, making my spine shiver with every word.

 "Looks like Natsumi's skipping school today," said Yuki.

 "Yeah, lucky her," I said.

 I walked down the stairs for breakfast.

 You work with Natsumi. Don't be late.

 I had a fight with an orc coming up: I'd be lucky if I made it back at all.

 I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

 "You work with Natsumi. Don't be late."

 The words crawled up my spine, sticking there like a threat.

 I turned to Yuki. "…Did she just assign me a job?"

 Yuki hesitated. "Well… she does work here. You do too, to help pay for your room."

 "Yeah, I know. That's not the part that bothers me."

 "Oh. Yeah. She does that to people."

 I sighed. Of course she did.

 The scent of grilled fish and miso soup hung in the air, wrapping around me like an edible hug as I stepped into the common dinning area.

 A few guests were already seated, lazily eating breakfast under the soft glow of the morning landers.

 Overhead, the wooden beams creaked as the wind shifted outside, a slow, rhythmic groan that made the onsen feel ancient.

 I rubbed my eyes. I hadn't slept well.

 Then, it hit me.

 My back didn't hurt at all.

 Neither did my knees.

 I hadn't even realized until breakfast.

 Yuki hadn't said much after our talk last night, but I knew she was still there, still watching.

 Even now, I could feel her presence like a patch of cold air brushing against the back of my neck. And yet… I couldn't deny that knowing she was there was comforting in a world that held precious few.

 I scanned the room.

 A couple of older men slurped their miso soup in silence.

 A younger guy, probably a traveler, sat hunched over a bowl of rice, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

 And then – Ohhh?

 Sitting near the far side of the room was a girl I hadn't seen before.

 Tall.

 Really tall, especially for a Japanese girl.

 She had long, curly brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders in thick waves, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and a figure that my fifteen-year-old body wanted to keep staring at.

 But what really caught my eye – the scar.

 A jagged line, about three inches long, ran diagonally across her forehead, just above her eyebrows, half-hidden by her bangs. It wasn't ugly – if anything, it made her look tough.

 But it was out of place.

 A battle wound on a face that should've been untouched.

 And then – she noticed me too.

 More than a glance.

 She was studying me.

 Something about the way she looked at me made my stomach twist, and I didn't know why.

 Before I could figure it out –

 "Ugh. You're here?"

 Hibana's voice snapped me out of it.

 She sat at one of the low wooden tables, arms crossed, one foot tapping against the floor in irritation. Her long ponytail hung over her shoulder, still damp.

 Impeccable uniform, of course.

 I wouldn't have been surprised if Hibana had been up all night starching her skirt until it was as unbending and unyielding as herself.

 I blinked. "Uh…yeah? You brought me dinner last night afraid that I was going to starve to death. I thought I could at least show up here and prove I knew where the dining area was."

 She rolled her eyes. "I bet your ghost guide had to show you. You're an idiot you know. Messing with Yuki like that."

 I frowned. "Messing with her? What are you even talking about?"

 Hibana's lips parted like she was going to say something else—something softer. But instead, she shut her mouth, exhaled sharply, and shook her head.

 Hibana narrowed her eyes. "She deserves better than to anchor herself on to you."

 I shook my head, confused. "I seriously have no idea –"

 "Ugh! I'm NOT your mother here to explain everything to you!" she snapped. "I'm not going to let some baka like you make me late on the first day of classes."

 She took three steps before stopping and turned around to point a finger at me.

 "And don't let me catch you following me!"

 I blinked a few times. "Why the hell would I follow you?"

 "You're clueless. You'll get lost. Whatever. Ask your ghost girlfriend for help. See if I care," Hibana said.

 "Don't let her get to you," Yuki said softly.

 Hibana spun around once more. "You're an idiot for bothering her!"

 She hesitated.

 Just for a second.

 Then, with a sharp exhale, she turned and stormed off.

 Outside, I felt the cool spring air, scented with salt from the sea.

 The cool spring air hit me as soon as I stepped out, tinged with the scent of salt from the sea.

 I had to figure out how to deal with the orc, but Hibana's words still bothered me.

 "Yuki," I said. "What did Hibana mean?"

 I didn't have to see Yuki's face to know she didn't like that question.

 The air around me felt colder than normal.

 Drier.

 Uncomfortable.

 "…Right. That doesn't make me feel any better if you ignore my question."

 I felt her sigh—a whisper of cold air brushing against my skin.

 "Hibana's an exorcist, Ryu. It's her job to get rid of troublesome spirits and youkai…"

 I nodded slowly.

 Okay, so I was finally getting somewhere.

 "The people of Shin'yume—the town—they rely on Hibana and the Asuka clan to protect them," Yuki continued. "They have for generations. Wouldn't you sleep better, Ryu, knowing that a group of shinobi were standing by to protect you from a school of monsters? Of vampires?"

 I ignored the dig at Shion.

 "So how many people can actually see you?" I asked, steering the conversation back.

 Yuki hesitated.

 Then—

 "…Just because people can see me doesn't mean they want to."

 The words hit me harder than I expected.

 She exhaled slowly. "Most people ignore me. Even if they know I'm here. They pretend I don't exist. They want me to be gone."

 "You mean exorcists like Hibana?"

 "…She offered to help me pass on."

 I blinked. "And you said no?"

 Yuki nodded. "And ever since then… she's ignored me."

 I remembered the way Hibana barely acknowledged Yuki's presence, even when she was right there.

 That wasn't just ignoring.

 That was deliberate.

 "…and it's not just her," she said softly. "It's everyone."

 "Why?"

 "…that's what you're supposed to do with ghosts, Ryu."

 I blinked. "What?"

 "You're not supposed to talk to us. Not supposed to look at us. You pretend we're not there."

 A pause.

 "Because we're not supposed to be."

 Yuki continued, her voice quieter. "Natsumi knows I'm unnatural. She doesn't say it, but she knows. Cats can tell when something isn't supposed to be here."

 I felt a cold weight settle in my gut.

 "So… what are you saying?" I asked.

 "…I don't belong here, Ryu."

 Sad.

 Like someone who had already accepted a truth they didn't want to.

 And for the first time since meeting her—I realized something deeply unsettling.

 I had no idea what would happen if she ever did pass on.

 And worse—neither did she.

 "…I don't think I could do that." I said.

 Yuki's voice was tired, but happy. "I know."