The Twelve Kingdoms: Shadow of the Moon

know anything about this Kyokai. I don't know what kingdom the Kingdom of Kou is. I don't know anything about this world! What is going on?"
    The old lady had no answer except a troubled sigh.
    "Tell me how to get back home."
    "Can't be done."
    The abrupt answer made Youko wring her hands together. "It can't?"
    "No human being can cross the Kyokai. No matter how they somehow arrive here, there's no going back."
    This explanation did not satisfy her in the least. "No going back? That's just stupid."
    "It's impossible."
    "But . . . I . . . . " Tears welled up in her eyes. "But what about my mom and dad? I didn't go home last night. I missed school today. I have to go to school. Everybody's going to be worried."
    It was an awkward moment. The old lady averted her gaze. She stood up and began arranging the things on the table. She said, "Probably better you get used to things being the way they are."
    "But coming here wasn't my idea! I had nothing to do with it!"
    "That's what all kaikyaku say."
    "My whole life is there. I didn't bring anything with me. Why can't I go home? I . . . "
    No more words came. She burst into loud sobs. The old lady paid her no mind. She left the room. Everything she brought with her she took with her, even the candle, leaving Youko alone in the pitch black cell. The sound of the locking bolts echoed in the dark.
    Youko screamed, "I want to go home!"
    But it was too hard to carry on in such distress. She curled up on the bed and wept. She finally cried herself to exhaustion.
    And slept without dreams.

Chapter 13
    " G et up."
    Youko was roused from sleep. Her eyelids were heavy from weeping. Hard sunlight stung her eyes. Fatigue and hunger left her drained but she still had no desire to eat.
    The men woke her up then bound her--not too tightly--with a length of rope and led her outside. When they emerged from the building there was a wagon waiting in the plaza, harnessed to a team of two horses.
    She was hoisted onto the horse cart. From this vantage point she could see around the plaza. Here and there and on the street corners crowds of people had gathered and were staring at her.
    Where, she wondered, had all these people been hiding? Yesterday the place had looked like nothing more than the deserted ruins of a town.
    They appeared Oriental, though the color of their hair was markedly different. With so many of them together it made for quite the human kaleidoscope. Every person wore a mixed expression of curiosity and hatred. They really did see her as a criminal getting shipped off in a paddy wagon.
    In the fleeting moment in time between when she had opened her eyes until she had truly woken up, she had prayed from the heart to make it all a dream. The dream was shattered by those men dragging her out of the cell.
    They hadn't given her any time to tend to her dress or appearance. Her school uniform was still drenched with the stench of the ocean from when they had plunged into the whirlpool in the sea.
    Another man climbed into the wagon next to her. The driver loosened the reins. Sizing up the two of them, Youko's only thought was, God, she was dying for a bath, dying to immerse her body in the steaming water, wash herself with sweet-smelling soap, dress in fresh pajamas and go to sleep in her own bed. And wake up and eat the food her mother made, go to school, meet her friends, and talk about all the dumb stuff that didn't matter to anybody.
    It occurred to her that she hadn't finished her chemistry homework. A book she'd borrowed from the library was overdue. Her favorite TV show, that she'd been watching forever, was on last night and she'd missed it. She hoped her mother remembered to tape it for her.
    Dwelling on it now it was all so pointless. The tears welled up again. Youko hastily hung her head. She wanted to bury her head in her hands, but with her hands bound . . . .
    Better you get used to things being the way they are.
    No, she couldn't accept that. Keiki never said she couldn't go back home. It couldn't go on like this. It couldn't. Not being able to wash or put on clean clothes. Tied up like a criminal, hauled along in the back of this filthy wagon. She knew she was no saint, but she didn't deserve to be treated like this!
    Glancing back at the gate receding behind them, she hunched her bound arms and wiped her cheek on her shoulder.
    The man next to her--she guessed he was in his thirties--clutched a sack to his chest and gazed blankly at the passing scene. "Um . . . "