Shion leaned against the railing outside the onsen, arms crossed, eyes on the horizon, her bicycle parked beside of her.
I could see the sun beginning to rise over the forest, hills, and Crescent Moon Academy to the east of Shin'yume.
"It's weird seeing a vampire watching the sun rise," I said.
Shion turned to me with a smirk.
"You always believe everything you read?" she asked.
I shrugged.
"You're the one who always goes on about rules."
She rolled her eyes.
Then she looked up at me from under her slick, black locks. She took a breath.
"You're right, you know."
That was a first.
"About what?" I asked.
"I shouldn't be able to see the sun rise. That's why I was watching it."
She turned back towards where the sky was turning from bright red to soft pink and blue.
"It's beautiful. Seeing it, with my own eyes, means so much more than just seeing it in my memories."
"I wonder why she can see it here," said Yuki.
Yeah. I wondered that myself, since Shion was such a stickler for the rules.
"Hey, Shion," I said.
She didn't turn towards me. She just sighed.
Which I thought was strange because she didn't need to sigh.
"You're making a mistake, you know," she said.
I blinked. "What?"
"With the ghost."
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
"You can see her?" I asked.
I'd told Shion about Yuki, but Shion shrugged it off yesterday.
She never mentioned Yuki at all.
Just like everyone else.
Then Shion's dead eyes flicked to mine.
"Do you really think holding on will help her?" she asked.
She almost sounded bored.
I swallowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She turned back towards the sunrise.
"We'd better start walking to school. I'll explain along the way."
We hadn't gotten far, just to the outskirts of the town, when I turned to Shion.
She was pushing her bike. We were coming up to a convenience store, or a konbini, when I turned towards her.
"You know she can hear everything you say about her," I said.
Shion waved one hand dismissively.
"Listen, this is important – "
"Yeah, I can tell," she said. "Wait a second. Come with me."
I followed her as she pushed her bike behind the konbini.
She put the kickstand down and set the bike next to the dumpster.
"What the hell are we doing here?" I asked. "I feel like we're about to light a spliff or something."
"Right? Shady as hell."
Then she looked at me.
"I'm hungry."
Damn it.
"Again?"
"He's more than just your juice box, Shion," Yuki said.
"I'm sorry, Ryu. The wind was blowing just now, and we don't have a lot of time. Hurry up, I'm hungry."
I was choking back my anger at Shion right then.
How the hell could she be so cruel?
I tried to tell myself that she hadn't spent as much time with Yuki.
Then I realized that Shion never even looked at Yuki.
Not once the entire time.
"I'll explain after I eat, okay?" Shion said.
I rolled up my sleeve.
"Here. Just make it fast."
She smirked as her cold hands clamped around my wrist.
"My hero."
Everything about it sucked.
The way it felt like Shion was taking something from me more personal than my own blood.
Like it was leaving a cold, empty shell.
Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, and my stomach was twisting itself into knots she let go.
"There," she said like it was the easiest thing in the world. "All better now."
I rubbed the cold spot on my wrist, but the bite marks had already healed.
"Tell me why it's a mistake to talk to Yuki," I said.
Shion quickly rolled her eyes.
"You're calling it by its name… It's just going to be harder for you in the end."
"What end?" I spat. "I'm starting to get really pissed off because I just want to know why it's so bad to talk to Yuki!"
"Because Yuki's dead! She passed on, Ryu," said Shion as if it were plain as day.
"So what?" I said. "You did too."
"Oh, don't you even dare!" Shion yelled.
Shion stomped her foot down. Hard.
"Don't you dare even go there with me! I'm still here, Ryu!"
Shion pointed a finger at Yuki.
"Don't you compare me to – to that… shadow over there! I'm nothing like Yuki! I died, but I came back. Yuki, or, whatever… she never even left. She didn't go anywhere."
I tried to follow what Shion was saying.
"Okay… when you died… you came back and inhabited your body. But… when Yuki died… she just stayed here. Why didn't she return to her body?"
"I couldn't," said Yuki.
"I don't know, Ryu. I'm not an expert. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe she couldn't for whatever reason. Maybe she didn't know what was happening and she was just a scared girl who got into a horrible accident."
I heard Yuki make a small gasp.
"But the point is, she didn't go anywhere. She messed up. And now you're helping her double down on her stupid decision."
I frowned.
That was what didn't make any sense to me.
If that's what happened to Yuki, then why was everyone ignoring her.
"They want me to go, Ryu," I heard Yuki say.
And when I spun around to talk to her, I saw her standing by the end of the dumpster.
"Come on. We need to go or we'll be late for our first day of class," Shion said.
She walked forward – straight through Yuki.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even hesitate.
Just for a second, I thought I saw Yuki flinch.
Then –
"Whoops. My bad."
I didn't move.
Not yet.
Shion was already walking away, wheeling her bike along, humming some song I didn't recognize.
Yuki was standing near the dumpster, looking small.
Quiet.
Like she wasn't sure if she should still be here.
I clenched my fists.
Yuki looked up at me.
I could barely make her out.
A chalk outline of a person existing in the world.
"Shion," I called out.
She didn't stop, but I saw her shoulders shift slightly. Like she'd expected me to follow without question.
I took a step forward. "You're wrong about her."
"Ryu," I heard Yuki say. "You were looking at me."
I looked in Yuki's direction.
"You can see me?"
Shion exhaled sharply—one of those long, theatrical sighs she did when she thought I was being especially stupid.
The fact that Shion didn't even have to breath made it worse.
Then she turned, arms crossed.
"I knew you were gonna do this," she muttered.
"Do what?"
"This whole dramatic thing," she said, rolling her eyes. "Oh no, my poor, precious ghost girl. If I don't save her, she'll be so lonely forever. What a tragedy."
Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
I bristled. "That's not what I—"
"Ryu."
She said my name flatly, cutting me off. Then she pointed at Yuki, who hadn't moved.
"Tell me how you help her," she said.
I swallowed. "I don't know."
"Exactly."
"Ryu's already helping me," Yuki said. "I just want someone to talk to."
Shion stepped closer, and her dead, glassy eyes locked onto mine.
"But I do," she continued. "You think ghosts are just sad little echoes waiting for a friend? That's now how this ends, Ryu. It never is, and it doesn't matter what your intentions are. You've got two options."
She held up a hand and ticked off fingers.
"Please, it's not like that," pleaded Yuki.
"Option one," Shion said. "You actually help her move on. Congratulations, genius. She's gone. Forever. Enjoy crying into your pillow."
"Stop, please!"
I flinched.
"Option two," she went on. "You fail to help her. Now you've got a ghost hanging around you, forever, getting in your head, never moving forward, never changing, never really being a person again. That's not life, Ryu. That's a prison."
Her fingers curled into a fist.
"Why are you so mean, Shion?" asked Yuki.
Something cold settled in my chest.
Shion smirked.
"It is tough love," she said. "You think you're the first guy to fall for a ghost's sob story?"
My stomach twisted.
Shion shook her head, laughing under her breath. "Man, this is just embarrassing."
I turned to Yuki.
She was standing right there. Listening.
But she didn't say anything.
She didn't tell Shion she was wrong.
I felt my breath catch.
"Yuki?" I whispered.
She didn't meet my eyes.
I saw the faint outline of her face looking away.
She just folded her hands together, like she was holding something fragile.
"I don't want you think I'm using you, Ryu," she said softly. "I'm not like her."
My throat tightened.
I didn't know what to say to that.
I turned back to Shion, my chest tight with something I couldn't name.
She was watching me, waiting for my reaction.
Waiting for me to get it.
"Come on," she said. "You can walk with me, or you can stand around playing ghost whisperer until you forget how to live."
Then she turned.
Started walking again.
And this time—
I didn't call her back.