Kantarou awoke with a start, the voice from his nightmare still ringing in his ears, malicious and scathing.  It was the voice of a demon.  His chest felt tight and there was pain there, as though the demon had followed him into the waking world.  He was breathing hard still and covered in sweat, making him feel dizzy and cold.  Kantarou shivered and pulled the blankets around himself, closing his eyes tightly against the memory of the dream and concentrating on regaining some composure.  But in the darkness behind his eyelids the images only became clearer and more focused.  Kantarou rubbed his eyes and sat up.  He looked around the room; his room, and the familiarity of it made his feel better. Even in the dullness of a cold, rainy afternoon it felt comfortable.  And safe. 

Kantarou felt a sudden desire to seek out Haruka.  He wondered whether it was because he always felt stronger and less afraid in the presence of his tengu.  Or whether it was because he believed the dream, and really did not have long to live.  The thought sent a chill down his spine and he wrapped the blankets even tighter around himself in an attempt to stave off the world, and his fear, which lay like tar in his lungs.  He did not really know how he felt about his own mortality, but he did know he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of dying any time soon.  Particularly not now that he had found Haruka.

Through the cold quiet of his room and his thoughts, Kantarou heard raised voices downstairs.  Someone was crying.  Haruka’s voice, deep and calm, cut through the noise.  Then there was shuffling and the sound of a door being slid gently closed.  He listened closely for a time, trying to discern who the visitor might be and what they were talking about, but the voices were too quiet now.  Still, he had the feeling he should hear the conversation going on downstairs, so Kantarou got up and pulled a thick hapi over his yukata before making his way carefully down the stairs, noting with amusement how paranoid he had become about staircases lately. 

Approaching the closed room Kantarou could hear the sound of sobbing again.  And there was a man’s voice that he did not recognize.  He was saying something about Daiki.  Kantarou stood before the door, wondering why Haruka or Youko had not called him down.  It certainly sounded like the visitors had brought important news.  He frowned.  It was probably Youko.  She could be so over-protective at times.  As soon as she heard what had happened at the Suzuki house, she had sent Kantarou straight off to bed to rest.  And he wasn’t even sure why he had let her.  He put a hand to his head.  No fever.  He was fine.  But it was really starting to get to him how... weak he had been lately; collapsing all over the place like some timid damsel in distress.  It just wasn’t like him.  He should have been able to exorcise that demonic ghost without so much melodrama.  Kantarou smiled despite himself; maybe he had just grown to like Haruka carrying him around all the time.  Still, whatever was wrong and however imminent his death might be, this was his house and his business.  Making his decision, he gently pushed the door aside.

“Good Afternoon...” he began in greeting, immediately recognizing Suzuki-san.  A man he did not recognize sat stiffly next to her.  Suzuki-san looked at him in utter horror.

“Oh, Ichinomiya-sensei!” she cried and threw herself at his legs, tightly gripping the material of his yukata and wailing loudly.  Kantarou looked to Haruka for some indication of what was going on, but the tengu just looked back at him in mild surprise and shrugged.

“Um... Suzuki-san...” Youko said, laying her hands soothingly on the distraught woman’s shoulders, gently trying to pry her away from Kantarou.  The woman’s sobs subsided slightly, but she seemed resolved to not let go.

“Oh, Ichinomiya-sensei!  I’m so sorry I got you involved...” she cried miserably.

“Let go of the man, Kuumi.”  The stranger spoke, his voice deep and confident.  Suzuki-san whimpered slightly but released Kantarou’s legs and mumbled an apology.  Youko continued to pat her comfortingly. 

“Kan-chan, this is Suzuki-san’s brother,” she explained.  The man nodded in greeting.

“Ishi Touya.  You have been investigating for Kuumi?”  Kantarou bowed and went to sit down beside Haruka, as far from Suzuki-san as he could without being rude.

“Yes,” Kantarou replied, unsure what to say.  He was almost certain now he knew the cause of the deaths, but was loathed to bring it up.     

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Ishi Touya stated, eyeing Kantarou suspiciously.  “But from the look on your face I would wager you do.”  Suzuki-san’s sobs stopped abruptly and she gasped.

“You...you know?” she stammered.  Kantarou nodded slowly.

“You should not have hired me if you did not want me to find out,” he said.  The woman sagged visibly.

“So it’s her then.  I thought it might be.  Maybe we deserve it after all.”  Kantarou shook his head.

“But why did you send Daiki to her shrine if you thought it was her?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” she replied miserably. 

“What is going on?” Ishi Touya demanded, folding his arms in annoyance. 

“It’s Kirara.  We killed her and now she wants our lives,” Suzuki-san sobbed.  Ishi Touya’s eyes widened in shock.

“The demon... it killed her, not you!” he insisted.  His eyes momentarily flashed towards Kantarou.  “But then why...?”  Suzuki-san shook her head.

“No.  We did.  We thought it best...”  She broke down into pitiful sobs, burying her face in her hands.

“I saw it,” Kantarou said.  “The black paint covers what they did.”

“They murdered... their daughter?”  Haruka spoke for the first time.

“They could not exorcise the demon because she lived in it.  It was the room, and the house, and they didn’t know it.  So they killed her and now the demon and her ghost are one.  And much more powerful than before.”  Kantarou closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the demon’s touch, burning bloodlust filled with the daughter’s need for revenge.  But there was something else.  Something hidden.  It felt like control... like purpose.

“Kantarou?”  Haruka was looking at him oddly.  Kantarou looked over at Suzuki-san.

“There is something else,” he said.  She stared at him, eyes red and inflamed from crying. 

“There is...”  She choked.  “You know?  You’ve seen it?”  Kantarou frowned, feeling an oddly familiar fear creeping into his stomach. 

“I think it’s...”  He trailed off, not knowing what he meant to say.

“I don’t understand why,” Suzuki-san was saying, her eyes filled with despair.  There was pity there too, and sorrow, forcing him to realize what he already knew.

“Enough with all the riddles!”  Haruka threw up his arms in frustration and looked between Kantarou and Suzuki-san.  “What is it?!”

“The reason we came,” Ishi Touya said, his tone mournful.  “Kuumi had another dream.”  Youko gasped.

“Someone else is going to die?” she asked, her voice quivering.  Suzuki-san nodded.

“That demon,” she spat.  “So soon after Daiki...”  Haruka narrowed his eyes, realizing where this was going.

“It won’t happen,” he said simply. 

“Haruka...”  Kantarou smiled sadly.  “I saw it too.”  The tengu turned indignantly to face his master.

“It won’t happen!” he declared, looking at Kantarou as though he were an idiot to even think such a thing.  “You will not die.  I won’t let you.” 

“Haruka...”  Kantarou didn’t really know how to respond, just gaped at the tengu in astonishment.

“Wait.”  Youko moved over to sit closer to Kantarou, distress visible on her face.  “The dreams... Suzuki-san had another one and in it you... you died.”  She grasped Kantarou’s sleeve.  “That can’t be.  Why?  If it wants revenge then why you?”

“Youko.”  Kantarou put his hand over Youko’s, trying to appear calm even though he felt sick at the memory of the dream.  But there was no denying it.  “I don’t know.  But I’m sure Suzuki-san and I saw the same dream.  And I suspect it’s because the house... it possesses me now too.”