“She seemed insane to me.”  Haruka shoved his free hand deeper into his coat pocket and lifted the umbrella he was holding with the other a little higher, causing a cascade of water to fall on Kantarou.  The shorter man mumbled unhappily at his misfortune and moved closer to Haruka’s side.

  “You’re supposed to keep the rain off me with that, Haruka, not pour it on my head.”  Kantarou pulled his jacket tighter around his body in an attempt to stave off the cold, wet wind.  He was beginning to wish he had never taken this job.  Then he could have stayed at home where it was significantly drier.  Maybe even gone to bed, if Youko had gone out somewhere.  There he would be warm and cozy and he wouldn’t have to think about article deadlines or money shortages or walking to the other side of Tokyo in a downpour with water running through his socks and an indifferent tengu shaking water onto his head with every step.  Kantarou cursed the rain and he cursed the trains for not running.  He cursed his sandals for not being waterproof, his clothes for being wet and his head for throbbing so painfully. 

  “Kantarou?” Haruka’s voice cut through Kantarou’s gloomy thoughts.  He looked up at the taller man.  If Kantarou didn’t know better he would have thought the tengu looked worried.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he said, most unsympathetically Kantarou noted.

  “Nothing,” Kantarou grumbled, looking back at his feet as they walked on up the muddy street.

  “You haven’t said anything.  You’re too quiet,” Haruka went on.  Kantarou shrugged.

  “It’s the weather,” he replied shortly.  Haruka was silent for a while, but Kantarou could tell he was still looking at him.   

  “It was your idea to go to that woman’s house,” Haruka eventually spoke. 

  “I thought the trains would be running,” Kantarou replied defensively.  “How was I to know the train depot was flooded?”  Haruka thought for a moment.

  “I could fly us there,” he suggested.

  “We’ll get wet,” Kantarou answered.

  “We’re wet already,” Haruka pointed out.  Kantarou frowned.

  “Only because you keep shaking the umbrella…” Kantarou sighed heavily.  “We’re nearly there anyway.” 

  They trekked on through the rain in silence, the houses about them growing larger and the street becoming better paved as they went.  Eventually they came to the gate they were looking for, a plaque bearing the name “Suzuki” beautifully engraved and painted hanging beside it.  Kantarou knocked loudly and was received by a young servant.

  “Ah.  You must be Ichinomiya-sensei.  Suzuki-sama called ahead to tell me you were coming.  Please come in.”  The girl spoke politely and quickly showed them into the entrance. 

  “My! You’re soaked! I’ll bring some towels,” she exclaimed, looking at the pair dripping water all over the entrance hall floor.  She ran off leaving Kantarou and Haruka alone.  Kantarou sneezed loudly and felt himself shiver.  The sound reverberated eerily around the large entrance hall and the long, dark corridor leading from it.

  “This house is empty,” Haruka commented, his eyes taking in the area around them.  Kantarou nodded.

  “It doesn’t feel like anyone lives here.”  Kantarou listened for a moment.  “It’s so quiet.”  He wondered if the chill in his spine was really just caused by the feel of soaked cloth against his skin.  Then a soft but hurried padding could be heard coming towards them from the black corridor.  Haruka and Kantarou turned to face the source of the sound and were relieved when the young servant girl appeared from the shadows holding two thick towels. 

  “Here,” she offered.  “I’ll take your coats and hang them in the kitchen.  Come over to the hearth and dry off a little.”  Kantarou gratefully removed his jacket and, rubbing his hair with the towel, stepped up into the house and followed the girl to the hearth room. 

  The room was little better than the entrance had been; large, dark and cold.  Only by sitting right next to the fire could Kantarou feel any warmth.  Haruka stood looking suspiciously around the room.  There were few windows and even those were small and let in little natural light so a gas lamp had been lit to see by.  The hearth also gave off something of a yellow glow.  But even with this the corners of the room were hidden in thick shadows, as if they devoured what light managed to reach them.  The dark wood of the walls and what little furniture there was only served to increase the effect.  

  “I don’t like this house,” he said, then sat down tensely beside Kantarou.

  “Don’t be rude, Haruka,” the novelist whispered, though he couldn’t help but agree.  What he had seen of the house so far made him feel uneasy and unwelcome, even if he sensed no ghostly auras.  He was glad Haruka was beside him.  He knew the tengu felt the same unease or he would not have sat so close.  Kantarou wondered if maybe this feeling was just the rain.  Or his mood.  Or the way he couldn’t seem to stop shivering slightly.  In any case, it didn’t bode well. 

  “I brought you tea, Sensei,” the girl said cheerfully when she returned to the room.  Kantarou couldn’t imagine what she had to be so cheerful about.

  “Is there anyone else here?” Haruka asked.  He was watching the servant girl closely as though she were an enemy who might attack at any moment.  Kantarou elbowed Haruka and frowned at him.  The girl, not seeming to notice, put her tray down beside the men and began pouring the tea as she answered more soberly.

  “Just Sudo-san.  He is… was the master’s business partner.  He’s working in the office in the back.  There is a lot of work to be done with the master gone…”

  “The old woman and her son don’t live here?” Haruka asked rudely.

  “Haruka!” he chastised.  Kantarou turned to the girl and apologized.  She giggled softly.

  “It’s all right.”  She handed a teacup to Kantarou.  “Suzuki-sama refuses to come back here.  After she had that second dream she sent Daiki...”

  “Her son?” Kantarou asked.  She nodded, offering a cup to Haruka.

  “She sent him to stay in a shrine.  She wouldn’t tell anyone where.” 

  “And where is Suzuki-san staying?” Kantarou asked.

  “With her brother.”  Haruka sat drinking his tea.  He seemed to have lost interest in the conversation.

  “You are here alone then?  Have you seen anything?” Kantarou continued his questioning.  The girl shook her head.

  “I like this house so I don’t mind being here alone, and I haven’t seen anything like demons if that’s what you mean.  Now I must get on with my chores.  Suzuki-sama said to let you look around so please do.”  She excused herself then, leaving Kantarou and Haruka alone again.  Kantarou thoughtfully watched the tea leaves swirling in his cup.  Outside the rain continued to fall, the sound again beginning to lull Kantarou towards sleep.  He felt his grip on the teacup in his hands slacken.

“Kantarou!”  Haruka’s voice, precise and purposeful, so different from the soft patter of rain, awoke Kantarou with a start.  His eyes met the tengu’s.  There was concern there, and impatience.  “I don’t like this place,” Haruka reiterated.  He set his cup down.  “Let’s get this over with.”