I sat on the bed, my knees drawn up to my chest and my chin leaning against my knees. I was looking out the only window in the bedroom, and I couldn't help but sigh. The world was damp, gray, gloomy, and it seemed like I couldn't remember what sunshine felt like.

In reality, it had only been raining since I came to stay with my grandmother three days ago. However, the weather was making it a little impossible to do anything but spend time with her. Not that it was a bad thing, I was just too shy to speak and spend time with her freely.

At least it was summer, and at least I only had to be here for about twelve more days, until my father and new stepmother got back from their Honeymoon in New York. When the weather cleared up, and I hoped it would, I would be able to spend time outside.

"Suzu, breakfast is ready!"

That was my grandmother, and I yelled back a quick 'coming', before stampeding down the stairs.

"Good morning Suzu," Grandma greeted, as we entered the dining room at almost the same time. She brought out two plates of food from the kitchen, putting one in front of me, and taking the other to her place at the table. "How was your night?"

I shrugged, not wanting to complain about anything that couldn't be helped. "I wish the rain would stop, the roof keeps me up." I admitted.

What I hadn't admitted was that there was another very specific noise that was also keeping me awake at night. It sounded like there were a bunch of dogs that sat right under my window when I tried to sleep, barking and howling. Each night, I got up out of bed to look out and see if I couldn't shoo them away.

However, the sound would stop as soon as I moved the curtains, and there were no dogs, under my window or anywhere else on the street below.

"I think your Aunt Kagome might have liked hearing the rain on the roof at night." Grandma said as she started eating her breakfast. "It must have soothed her."

I have never met Aunt Kagome before, as Dad said she lived 'far away'. He never specified where 'far away' was, and I found it odd that she had never came to see anyone in our family in my fifteen years of life. However, Dad, and now I saw it in my grandmother, would speak of her highly and in a very enduring way.

To me, it sounded like she was dead.

Grandma and I soon finished our breakfast, in silence, more or less, as I couldn't make up any small talk, and Grandma seemed content in the silence.

As we were taking our dishes in to be washed, I finally summoned up the courage to ask, "Grandma, do you have neighbors that have a lot of dogs, or is there a kennel around here?"

Grandma paused, tapping her finger to her lips in thought. "I don't think so Suzu. Why do you ask?"

"I just hear dogs barking all the time at night." I said, rinsing my orange juice glass. "I'd say there is at least a pack of ten of them."

Grandma shook her head. "I don't hear anything, normally."

I wrinkled my face. I couldn't have been imagining it, but I let it go.

Almost at the same moment that I had that thought, I heard howling. Grandma and I both jumped, and my glass broke when I dropped it in the sink.

"You see?" I asked. "You don't hear that at night?"

"Suzu," my grandmother said, setting her breakfast dishes on the counter. "Those aren't dogs. They're wolves."

My first reaction was denial. This was Tokyo, there weren't any wolves around.

But now, there was something odd happening. The howls seemed to be giving way to voices. I almost shrugged, thinking maybe that the voices belonged to the owners of these dogs, but the conversation didn't make sense.

"Why do we have to be here?"

"She's not going to come out."

"Why is she so important?"

"Guys, shut up, we have to get her attention. Keep howling."

That was not any kind of conversation I had expected to hear. Why were there people outside of my grandmother's house, talking about getting someone to come out?

"Stay here Suzu," Grandma said. "It has to be some kind of prank."

She left the kitchen, I suppose expecting me to stay there while she checked out the voices coming from outside of the house.

"You can't go by yourself!" Was my objection, and I met her by the door.

She sighed, hand on the doorknob. "Fine, but you need to listen to me. Be careful, use your head."

My forehead scrunched. "They're just pranksters Grandma."

"Let's hope so," was her reply before opening the door.

There were a couple of odd entries and exits in this house. There were the typical front and back doors, and then there were ones like this one, which lead right to the old shrine.

The shrine was old when my father was young, supposedly, but I didn't doubt it. The structure was still mostly strong, granted there was probably some broken beams or termites or something. But it reeked of old, and just because I played in the building when I was young, didn't mean that I wanted anything to do with it now.

Grandma had paused for the briefest second in the doorway before letting me follow behind her.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

There were three men in front of the shrine, all dressed oddly, in furs and loin cloths. Then, each of them had tails, and I couldn't figure out how they were attached, or why.

"Suzu, get back into the house," Grandma ordered. Before I could reject the idea, she turned to the men and asked. "How did you get through the well? How did you break the seals?"

None of the men answered, they just looked blankly from my grandmother to me, and when their gaze held on me, I couldn't help but feel a blush creep up my face.

I shifted my weight, and my grandmother glanced back at me. "Suzu, I'm warning you, get inside-"

"Are you Wakahisa Sachi?" One of the men asked.

My eyebrows came together. "No, she was my mother."

"Was? You mean this Sachi lady is dead?"

I gasped. How could he speak of my mother so disrespectfully?

"Enough!" My grandma shouted. "Leave! Go back!"

"Go back where?" I couldn't help but try to ask my grandma. What were these people?

"We're not leaving without her," the spokesman of the group of weirdos said, pointing. He was pointing at me.