Aya’s Makami by Pauline Yates

Aya, the transfer student, acts nonchalant, but beneath her straight fringe, her enormous eyes glisten with new-school nerves, and she clutches a diary to her flat chest like a life support. Fool. That diary begs to be read. Especially by me.

I snatch the diary from her matchstick fingers. Flipping it open, I stare into the eyes of Makami. The divine protector looks into my heart, then gives a guttural roar and swallows me whole.

I’m not alone. Another bully hunkers in the beast’s belly, her round face whiter than a tsuki moon. Somewhere above us, savage teeth snap shut.