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swayed with the ship’s tipping movements, but Asaka’s firm grip kept him from falling.
    Steering him toward the ladder, Asaka held on to his arm until he’d started to descend. Feeling a little steadier when he reached the main deck, the boy didn’t wait to be led but quickly stumbled his way to the door. He opened it and tripped inside as his stomach began knotting up on him again. Moaning softly in despair at what might come upon him once more, he shivered, feeling the cold radiating from the walls, assaulting his exposed skin from every angle.
    Hurrying to his assigned room, he careened toward the wall as the ship abruptly tilted to the left. A steady hand kept him from smacking into it, making him glance behind him in surprise. It was the samurai.
    With Asaka’s firm grip back on his arm, he was led the rest of the way to his room.
    His prison’s blank, glowing walls glared silently at him as he entered. His sickness washed over him. A dead certainty arose then; and though the unearthly cold of the ship was mercilessly flowing into him, he didn’t run for his blanket when he was released. Instead, he turned around to face the departing samurai.
    “Asaka-sama, please. I beg you!” He sank to his knees, his hands palm down against the floor and his eyes closed in supplication. “Release me. Take me home. I can be of no use to you. Please, I don’t belong here!” His voice got caught in his throat. “Please, Lord, I beg you!”
    “ Worm .”
    He pressed his forehead against the floor’s glowing planks, shooting cold passing through it as it was already doing through his knees and hands. He shut his eyes tighter with a prayer, his heart quickening as he heard the sound most dreaded by his people everywhere. His acrid breath hung still in his raw throat as the soft click of a katana being slightly drawn from its sheath reverberated in the room’s silence. He waited for the end.
    “I will ignore your statement this once. I expect it never to be repeated.” Asaka’s voice was cold.
    He heard the katana click back into place.
    “The only release you will find if you do is that of your flesh,” the samurai told him. “I will have you, one way or another. If I must kill you and then trap your spirit from rising to its next plane, then so be it. It would mean nothing to me to have you join the ship’s crew permanently and find myself one who has the courage to endure what you do not.” Asaka left, slamming the door behind him.
    Horror and shame poured through him, though he couldn’t explain the reason for the latter. Tears ran freely from his closed eyes to fall on the glowing floor as his mind’s eye cruelly provided him with a picture of himself as a fleshless, moving corpse.

Chapter 4
    Toshi heard a soft knock at the door, but he ignored it. After a moment, he heard the door open behind him and the soft rustling of silk as someone came in. With his back pressed against the corner of the wall, he curled up tighter in his blanket.
    “Toshi-san?” It was Miko’s voice.
    “Go away.”
    He heard the geisha step farther into the room and set a tray on the table. He hoped with that done she would go. Instead, he heard the gentle rustle of her silk kimono move in his direction.
    “I want to be alone,” he said. “Please go away, Miko-san.”
    He knew she had ignored him as he heard her kneel down at his side. He gripped his blanket with both hands in case she tried to pull it from him.
    “What’s wrong, Toshi-kun? Have I somehow offended you?”
    He heard the worry in her voice. Demons weren’t supposed to worry over mortals; demons weren’t supposed to be kind. He also noticed how the honorific at the end of his name had changed to a slightly more personal one.
    “I’ve brought you more food.”
    He groaned as his stomach revolted at the mere mention of the word. The swaying of the ship hadn’t ceased since Asaka had left him.
    “Toshi, what’s wrong?” she asked, her worry more apparent.