The original six started to intone the words. Ryuichi couldn’t believe it. “Isn’t that from a sake song for good weather?”

Taka smacked him on the arm. “Just do it. Focus on telling the demon to leave her and go into the jar.”

Sure. Why not? Made as much sense as anything else so far. As much sense as his life. Why should he question anything, no matter how ridiculous, at this point?

So, closing his eyes, he joined them in what had to be the strangest demon-fighting chant of all time.

Teru-teru bozu, teru bozu

Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure. Do make tomorrow a sunny day.

Itsuka no yume no sora no yo ni. Like the sky in a dream sometime.

Haretara kin no suzu ageyo. If it’s sunny, I’ll give you a golden bell.

Teru-teru bozu, teru bozu

Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure. Do make tomorrow a sunny day.

Watashi no negai wo kiita nara. If you make my wish come true.

Amai o-sake wo tanto nomasho. We’ll drink lots of sweet sake.

Teru-teru bozu, teru bozu

Ashita tenki ni shite o-kure. Do make tomorrow a sunny day.

Sore de mo kumotte naitetara. But if it’s cloudy and I find you crying

Sonata no kubi wo chon to kiru zo. Then I shall cut off your head.

They all opened their eyes and looked at the old woman.

Big surprise—it hadn’t worked.

“Crap. We forgot the offering.” Ichiro ripped off a piece of his kimono and quickly twisted it into a small doll, which he placed in the jar.

They began chanting again.

Feeling ridiculous, Ryuichi once again followed the others. He occasionally opened an eye to sneak a peek out of curiosity, because he really didn’t think anything would happen.

The others, however, didn’t look once. They believed emphatically in what they were doing.

Focused and intense, their voices became one. The chant flowed in a single, eerie rhythm that resonated through him. He could feel it all the way to his bones. As if a part of him wanted to follow them to the jar. Time seemed to slow down.

Then, ever so slowly, he saw the blackness on the woman’s skin begin to shift. Like a cobra mesmerized by a flute. It lifted from her skin to form a shadowy figure beside her. One that danced and writhed to their chant.

Separate, yet similar, it danced around each one of them as if it were sizing them up. Its bright yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.

Until it reached Ryuichi.

There it stayed, swaying back and forth in time with the chanting, eyeing him in a way that was unnerving . . . yet somehow inviting.

Ryuichi-chan . . .

It sounded like Masaru, and yet it didn’t.

My dear, dear boy . . .

That sent a chill down his spine. “Who are you?”

It didn’t answer his question. Embrace your fears. Let them consume you. Control you.