They all heard it.

Sara was sure of it. Still, everyone was acting like the thud was just a tree branch scraping against the side of the house, or maybe Ned tripping down the stairs as he sometimes did.

Except there were no trees around their urban home, and Ned was under the dining table, nibbling Sara’s feet.

“What was that?” Sara asked, nudging the corgi away with her big toe.

Across the table, Mother was too busy yelling into a cellphone and going over Sara’s schoolwork to answer. On top of all that, she was rubbing disinfectant all over Sara’s cheek.

Sara looked to the living area instead. Her dad was enraptured with a show on television, even though a closer look revealed there was a commercial going on right now.

Okay… not his problem. Noted.

Sara tried to turn her focus onto her own task, which was to drink the glass of green slush on the table. She was pretty sure it was radioactive slime masquerading as healthy food, but it was Friday evening and god be damned, she wasn’t going to turn down her only dessert for the week just because it looked gross.

She took a sip.

Ugh. It tasted worse than it looked.

Mother snapped the last notebook shut and stacked it in the pile beside her. “I don’t care if they counter sue,” she told the poor sod on the other end of the line. “They’re lucky I’m not wanting a jail sentence. Do you know how damaging this is to my daughter’s image? She has a shoot tomorrow at six. Tomorrow, Michael. The bruise isn’t even going to lighten.”

“They can just Photoshop it,” Sara said softly, flinching when Mother slapped gauze over the cut. “Their editors are all like, descendants of wizards.”

Mother was quiet as she listened to the lawyer’s response. “Fine. But if Sara loses out on a modeling job because of this injury, don’t expect me to show any more compassion.”

She hung up. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she told Sara, “I’m going to talk to your coach tomorrow.”

Sara nearly choked on her slime.

“We need to find out which kid did this to you and get them taken off the team.”

“God, Mother,” said Sara, coughing. “You’re making a big deal over nothing.”

Mother turned to the living room. “Jeff?”

“Yea, honey?”

“Pick up some soba from the supermarket tomorrow on your way home, please.”

From the couch, Sara’s dad stuck out a thumbs up.

Sara got up from the table. “Can I take this upstairs?” she asked, holding up the glass of fruit sludge.

“You know,” Mother said, “it’s likely those kids are jealous you’re so much more accomplished than they all are.”

Sara fought the urge to sigh.

Upstairs, Ned was pacing along the hallway, looking adorably nervous. When Sara approached, he gave a tiny bark and raised a paw at Yuzuru’s closed door.

Sara gave the pooch a quick scratch before getting up to knock. She started light, then knocked louder when her brother didn’t answer.

Ned whined.

“Yuzuru?” Sara eyed the gap in the doorframe, trying to see inside but other than darkness there was more darkness.

“Mom made you fruit juice.”

Still nothing.

“It tastes delicious.”

Silence. Not even a snore. Sara reached for the doorknob but stopped herself. This was idiotic. Yuzuru was fine. He had to be, staying in his room all the time. If it turned out he was okay, she’d look like a fool.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

And she couldn’t waste any time. She still had her cue cards to find.

Sara took her drink down the hall to her own room. Didn’t matter. She’d catch him tomorrow.

She didn’t see him on Saturday. Well, it was accurate to say she didn’t see him during the twenty minutes between her waking up and rushing out of the house for her photo shoot.

Now, eight hours later and in kendo practice, she still hadn’t seen nor heard anything.

Would it kill him to message her? Tell her he’s still alive and looking for her cue cards?

“Stupid brother.”

Perched on the gymnasium bench next to her, Yuri pulled her head from her phone screen long enough to ask, “Who?”

“Nothing,” Sara said, turning back to the kendo match that was going on. It was between two upperclassmen, both competing for a spot on the school team. She was invested in the match, even though it really had nothing to do with her or Yuri. The second years were done an hour ago.

“Can we go?” Yuri asked.

“Don’t you want to see who wins?” Sara asked back.

Across the floor, one fighter lunged at the other with an overhead swing. His opponent raised his stick in defense, the clash ringing through the gym.

Yuri stood and slung her bag over one shoulder. “I know what I want. A hamburger.”

Sara leaned forward. The upperclassmen were a lot stronger than her physically. She could hear the power behind their blows. But they were slow, their strikes too calculated, stances too rigid to be very devastating.

Of course, kendo wasn’t about doing damage. It was about proper stances and technique and… other things Sara never cared for.

The pair ended their match. They bowed, then left the mat for the next fighters.

Sara looked around. She was alone on the benches. Too late, she realized her mistake.

The coach, who was standing off to the side, started making his way over.

“You fought well,” he said. “Better than all the other second years.” He nodded towards the new set of fighters. “Better than most of them, too.”

Sara tensed, keeping her gaze fixed straight forward. “Are you really allowed to say that?”

The coach sat, sinking the bench a little. He used the corner of his clipboard to scratch his chin.

“Today is not a school day,” he said.

Sara started to get up but stopped when a hand found its way to her shoulder.

“Which means today, I’m just a man.” The coach smiled. “A man who just happens to be in charge of picking out this year’s teams.”

The hand moved lower, from Sara’s shoulder to her back, then lower still.

“Your mother invited me over tonight.” The coach edged a little closer. His breath smelled like garlic mixed with stale coffee. “What should I expect?”

Sara said nothing. She stayed absolutely still and waited only until the coach left before getting up, gathering her things and ducking out the doors of the gymnasium.

Ned was sleeping in front of Yuzuru’s door and didn’t wake up until Sara was stepping over him. The dog gave a small yap and weaved between her ankles.

Sara was exhausted. Her muscles ached from tryouts and photo shoots and not enough food, but she spent the extra minute scratching Ned’s fluffy belly. No one was home, so she felt comfortable making cooing noises.

“Who’s a good boy? You are the bestest-westest boy!”

Sara giggled as she watched Ned’s tongue loll and his fuzzy nose twitch. Then, remembering last night, her laughter bubbled away.

She straightened to face Yuzuru’s door.

She knocked.

There was no answer.

Sara felt her temper rising. She knocked again, then jiggled the doorknob.

“I thought you said you didn’t lock your door anymore,” she said. By her feet, Ned was running around in circles. Sara had never seen him do that before. He didn’t have much of a tail to chase, after all.

“I’m giving you the count of three.”

She stood back, waited, then when there was still no answer slipped off her gym bag and took out her kendo stick. Unwrapping it, she held the stick firm in both hands and took up the proper stance.

Ned cowered by the stairs.

“One. Two…”

Sara took in a breath.

“Three!”

She smashed at the doorknob and it flew off with a crack. Ned fled, keening. Sara dropped her stick, surprised that the door hadn’t opened before she hit it. She really thought Yuzuru would’ve given in first. He always did before.

Something was wrong.

Sara peered into the room. Darkness greeted her. Nothing moved except the doorknob rolling across the floorboards.

She stepped in.

The smell was damp, spiced with the sweetness of instant noodles and canned coffee, and layered with a familiar waft of Sara’s memories.

A rectangle of orange light came from the hallway, marking a path into the room.

Yuzuru’s computer was turned off. It didn’t stand out as being unusual, but Sara was far from convinced that nothing had happened. She inched further in, using her stick to poke at the shapes hidden in the outskirts of the light.

Yuzuru wasn’t here. And by the time Sara had reached the desk and touched his cold computer, she knew he hadn’t been here for some time.

She felt a wave of unease wash over. She turned on the computer, wanting a little light. As the monitor whirled to life, spilling blue through the room, something caught her eye. Over by the end of the desk were her cue cards, crumbled and with clear indents that couldn't be anything else but bite marks.

She picked them up, and a low growl made her jump. She whipped around, sword ready.

Ned was by the doorway, his body held low to the ground.

“What is it?”

Ned bared his teeth at something that was on the ground.

Sara stepped over to get a better look. Her eyes had gotten used to the dark now, and with the help of the monitor’s glow, she could see that there was a cube on the floor. It was a little bigger than a dice and jet black. She looked at Ned. “It’s just some weird board game thing.”

Ned backed up out of the room.

“You’re scaring me, Ned,” Sara said. “It’s nothing, see?” She bent down and plucked up the cube. It was heavier than it looked, the sides ice cold. She held it out to show Ned, but then the downstairs door opened and it almost scared both of them senseless.

“Wait for me!” Sara hissed after the pooch as he fled the scene. She slipped the cube in her skirt pocket and followed, thinking of how she should break the news to her parents that their son might’ve just gone missing too.