It takes me a few days to notice, but it seems that Ryuji Haruta has disappeared. He doesn’t answer my texts. He doesn’t write in the notebook. Still, I check every morning, leaving little notes, hoping that he sees. My stomach twists, worry clinging to the back of my mind. I hope something didn’t happen and that he’s alright.
Was it something I said? Did I offend him in some way when we spoke at the park? I think through the night over and over, picking it apart, looking at it from all angles, but the only I can think of is how Mom tore my story apart. Is he afraid of something happening to him if he associates with me any longer? But I would never invite him over for that particular reason. The last thing I want is Mom around him. If she saw his muse, knew what he did…
I shake the thoughts from my mind. It could be something completely unrelated. Not everything’s about you, Keelin. I give up on sending messages after the third day. I’ll let him be. Maybe I’m just being too annoying and he’s busy.
The days tick by and before I know it, it’s the new year, and we’re back at school after a short break. I search for him every day in the halls, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s almost eerie, the lack of his loud voice shouting at me from across the school halls.
I see his teacher and call out to her. She pauses in the hallway and looks up at me, eyes a little glazed over, as if trying to remember if I’m one of her students or not.
“Um,” I say, my voice stuck in my throat. She’s shorter than me, but the elf woman has an air of authority that makes me tremble in my sneakers. “Do you know where Ryuji Haruta is? He hasn’t shown up to school in a while.”
Clarity enters her gaze, and she gives me a pitying smile. “All I can tell you is his father called to say he’s out sick. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Don’t worry too much.” She pats my elbow, then walks away.
My heart skips a beat at that. What if he’s cursed too? What if my curse passed to him? I shake my head at my own questions. There’s no way my curse could have spread to him. Curses aren’t contagious. It’s something you have to get from the curse-caster themselves.
But there was the rumor of the boy who was cursed…
Stop it, Keelin! There’s no point worrying.
Still, there’s something off about all of this. I need to find Aarushi.
I find her in our classroom, the first one there before school starts. Sliding into my seat, I prop my elbow on the seat back.
“Hey,” I say to catch her attention.
She looks up from drawing something in her notebook. Her eyes light up when she sees me. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Have you seen Ryuji around?” I try to say it as casually as possible.
Aarushi shakes her head. “No, not really. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him since before winter break. Weird. You’d think someone that loud would have caught my attention at least once.” She tilts her head. “Why? Something going on?”
I shake my head. “No, not really.” At least, I hope not.
Turning around in my seat, I rest my elbows on my desk. It’s weird. He’s never done something like this before. And the teacher said he was sick. What if…? No. I can’t let myself go down that rabbit hole again.
Still, it would be nice if he would let me know he’s okay. The urge to go to his house strikes, but I push it down. The last thing I should do is coming knocking on his door. He’d probably think I’m some creepy stalker.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. I’ll just wait it out.
Even as I think those thoughts, my stomach churns with worry.
This time I head to the hospital by myself. The nurses smile and wave at me as I walk by, and I smile back, though it feels stiff. When I reach the ward for curse patients, my heartrate spikes. I squeeze the bundle of azaleas clutched in my fists. If Mom ever found out, this would become my new permanent home until I died.
Stop it! I’m not here to think about myself. I’m here for my brother and my friend.
I reach Anwell’s room and step inside. The flowers Mom left are still fresh, but I brought my own anyway. When Anwell was younger, he loved Mom’s flowerbeds. I want to surround him with flowers so when he wakes up, when he’s all better, he can feel like he’s in a field of flowers. Safe and alive and whole.
I search the room for something to put them in, but the only vases are already occupied. I’ll have to ask someone at the front desk for one. Turning, I head for the door. Then pause as voices echo through the hallway.
“Hey,” a female voice says. “How’d your shift go? You look awful.”
Another, lower-pitched female voice answers with an empty laugh. “Yeah, last night was terrible. One of my patients died.”
All the blood rushes from my head. My heart pounds in my ears as I listen.
“Oh, no. Which one?”
“It was that sweet little banshee girl. She’d been here for seven years and she—” The woman sighs and shifts. “She didn’t deserve that curse. Whoever did that to her is a monster.”
“I know. And this new curse…” A sigh. “It’s been cropping up so many odd places and people. It just doesn’t make sense. What is the curse caster thinking? Lately, they’ve even been saying it’s contagious.”
“Contagious? Really? That’s unheard of.”
“I know. But how else do we explain…”
The rest of their conversation fades as I whirl toward Anwell. I trace the curse lines across his face, on his hands. I can’t tell if they’ve grown. What if it has? What if it’s centimeters away from reaching his heart? What if—
The flowers fall from my limp hands, and I stumble across the room to his side. My knees buckle and I grip the railing with shaking fists. Anwell has been here for six years. Six long, agonizing years. That girl, she died after seven years. Did that mean Anwell only had a year left?
“No,” the whisper is strangled in my throat. Tears sting my eyes. Gently, I take his hand in my own just to feel the warmth of him. To remind myself that he’s alive, that his heart is still beating.
“Please,” I beg him. “Please, Anwell, don’t die on me. Not yet. Please, not yet.”
The rest of the nurses’ conversation comes back to mind. A new curse. A new, random curse. Contagious. I suck in a breath and yank my hand from Anwell’s. I slap my hands to my mouth as horror grips me.
Oh no. What have I done? What if I’ve spread the new curse to him? And wait, Ryuji’s touched me before. On the roof of that building in Watercolor Square. What if he got sick after that? And Elsha—
My breaths come in short, hollow gasps. The thoughts swirl through my mind, screaming, clawing. Images flash before my eyes. Elsha, lying in a hospital bed like Anwell’s eyes closed, the black curse slowly taking over her body. Ryuji, his body wrapped in black creeping vines, dead.
No, no, no, no! I grip my hair and pull to hold back a scream.
It can’t be true. It’s just gossip. It’s not true. It’s not true!
I raise my head and look at Anwell’s hand. It’s clear of black, but who knows for how long. I shoot to my feet. I need to get out of here. I need to leave and never come back to keep him safe.
Backing away, I bolt for the door. My feet fly down the hallway before my mind can catch up. As I near the end, my vision swims. Before I know it, I’m falling. My knees slam into the tiled floor. Sharp pain shoots through my legs. I grip my arm, right over the curse mark as I take in several deep breaths. I grit my teeth. This stupid curse. Why did it have to be me? Why?
Why is it I always have the things I love taken from me?
Warm laughter trickles through the cracked door next to me. I look up to see a patient sitting up in bed, gripping his stomach, shaking with laughter. He looks human, though from this distance I can’t be sure. But what I am sure of is the curse that’s blackened his arm—branches shoot off from the edges across his otherwise brown skin.
He has the same curse as me. And yet, he laughs so warmly. The boy rocks forward in his laughter and looks to someone beside him.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” he asks.
“That’s up for you to decide,” his visitor answers, and I jerk upright at the voice.
Ryuji?
Scrambling to my feet, I move to the side so I can see who’s with the patient. Messy, black and white hair, tawny skin, large, feathered wings.
I was right. It is Ryuji. He looks happy, perched on a stool, elbows resting on his knees, that goofy grin on his face. And healthy. Nothing about him says he’s sick. He isn’t even in a hospital robe. Instead, he seems to be copying my style, wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans.
The tension in my body eases and I lean against the wall, releasing a sigh. I didn’t curse him. I was right. It was just rumor. There’s nothing contagious about my curse. Still, I dig my nails into my arm through my sleeve. This curse has been causing me way too much stress.
I peek in at them again, my eyes lingering on the patient and his curse. It looks to be a little worse than mine. His whole hand is black, and it’s gone past his elbow. He doesn’t have long. I’ll more than likely outlive him. Guilt twists my stomach.
This must have been why Ryuji was out. Maybe he had found out his friend was cursed and stayed out of school to help him get adjusted at the hospital. The worry must be eating him up inside. He must not have had time to message me back, which I completely understand. I was the same way when I found out about Anwell’s curse. And yet he looks like nothing in the world could ever bother him, his expression cheerful as always. Just how many emotions hide beneath those eyes?
Regardless, my fear is eased as I watch the cursed boy lock his arm around Ryuji’s neck as they both laugh. Whatever new curse they were talking about, it wasn’t ours. And Ryuji isn’t among the new patients.
For now, I can breathe easy. I look back at Anwell’s room. I guess I can stay just a little longer. I need to apologize to him for leaving so quickly. But first, I need to find a vase.
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