Page 91 of The Girl with a Thousand Faces
He misses his home in Kotohira. It has actual seasons which vary and cycle. He misses the winter snow and the spring blossoms. He misses not being at war, too, though he’s wise enough to never voice that sentiment aloud.
Still, the long night shift is nearly over, and he can snatch a few hours’ sleep soon. Perhaps he will dream of home. That always improves his mood. He checks his uniform, his gun, with a quick once-over. The lieutenant is strict about appearance, and tidiness.
He straightens and is about to go inside when he hears a distinctive splashing sound, as if something heavy has fallen in the water.
Odd.
After a hesitant moment, Goro shoulders the gun and walks round the corner of the deck’s curve. He surveys to the left and right, scanning for any sign of disturbance. No one is there, nothing is wrong. Still, the skin on the back of his neck prickles. Uneasy, he turns around.
Private First-Class Toshiro is standing right behind him, dripping with water.
“Hhhah!” he gasps. “Where did you come from? Why are you soaked?”
“Splashed by a wave.” Toshiro speaks with a flat tone, not quite an accent, but unusual-sounding. His dark eyes stare slightly past Goro. “I need to change.”
“Splashed by a wave?” Goro echoes, incredulous. The sea is choppy enough to unsettle his stomach at mealtimes, but not so bad that water is rolling over the ship. “What wave?”
He glances down. A trail of watery footsteps leads from Toshiro to the railing. As if his friend has crawled out of the sea.
“You fell in, didn’t you,” he says, accusingly. “Clumsy idiot! Were you drinking again?”
“No! No, I…” Toshiro hesitates.
“What? Spit it out!”
“I saw something in the water,” he says, not meeting Goro’s gaze. “A girl, drowning. But when I reached for her, a wave splashed me. Then she was gone.”
Goro stares. “Where was this? When?” The ship is ghost-warded, or should be, but he never feels entirely safe with that. There are simply so many ghosts, these days. Some very powerful.
“Over here.” Toshiro gestures, leading him to a particular spot along the railing. “She was in the water, just there.” He adds, glumly, “It was a spirit, wasn’t it? I’ve been a fool.”
“It certainly wasn’t a living woman, floating out in the harbor,” Goro says sharply, then leans over the railing, gun gripped tight. The water is dark and gloomy, with no sign of ghosts. Not that he expects there to be. Whatever apparition his friend saw is likely long gone. “Nothing there now, but we will report it. Did you touch her, or just reach for her?”
“Oh, he reached for me alright,” Toshiro murmurs, and slides his arms around Goro’s chest.
Goro has one confused moment to panic before they both go over the railing, and down into the dark sea below.
A brief silence settles over the ship.
Two minutes later, a dripping wet Goro climbs back up the emergency ladder, and over the railing of the military vessel. He blows water out of his nose, rolls his shoulders as if trying to get comfortable.
“Idiot,” he says aloud, in perfect Cantonese. Then he goes to raise the alarm.
Men come running. Steps, guns, restless hands and anxious eyes.
Something in the water…
… she grabbed Toshiro…
… tried to save him.
Toshiro’s floating corpse is plain enough to see. The other sailors begin reeling in the body, shouting and swearing, bringing out wards, hanging extra ones on railings. It’s a good distraction, exactly the kind of thing to get many hands on deck.
Goro watches impassively. He even helps hang a ward or two. Why not, it doesn’t hurt him. Talismans only work on ghosts without a body.
“Get belowdecks, and get dry,” says one of the officers.
Goro throws a salute, and does as he’s told.
