Written for the Beyond the Camera's Lens Christmas Exchange.


The pain isn't the worst thing. The pain is hardly the beginning.

Mio feels her sister die. Part of herself she always took for granted is ripped away, and the emptiness and cold are unbearable. They never go away, but when she's asleep, at least she doesn't have to lie.

In her dreams she returns to Minakami Village, but it's not the same. She knows it's too late, and there's nothing to be done. She walks the deserted streets, remembering things she has no right to know, searching for people Mio never met. The houses she has known from childhood are half ruined, grey and sad and empty. It's as if the village has lost half of itself, just as she has.

She explores freely. There are places in the village even she's never been before, but all the doors are unlocked, and there's nobody to stop her.

But I was here, Mio thinks, in a part of the Kiryu House she's certain she's seeing for the first time. I remember.

With that odd doubling in her memory, that strange deja-vu, she wanders to the Storehouse, and is scarcely surprised to find Itsuki standing there at the window, just as before. He still calls her Yae, and she understands. She has Yae's memories as well as her own; she is Mio trapped in the village that nearly killed her, but she is also Yae, come home too late.

There is nobody to save, no reason to rush. This is the village of the Remaining, the ones left behind. She's here with the one person who tried to help her, and Yae is reunited with Itsuki at last.

In her waking hours, she craves that feeling. The village is still the saddest place she's ever seen, but there's nobody in the real world who can understand how she feels. Itsuki may be a ghost, or a memory, or just a phantom of her traumatised imagination, and he may only know her as Yae, but there's nobody else she can talk to honestly.

Her uncle says he's worried about how much she's sleeping. "If it seemed to be helping, that would be one thing," he says hesitantly, "but I don't know if it's doing you any good."

Mio doesn't answer. It is helping her, but she doesn't expect him to understand. Sometimes in her dreams she talks as herself, and sometimes she talks as Yae, and Itsuki accepts her either way. She talks about Mayu and her guilt over the ritual, but as time goes on, she talks more often about Sae, and things about the village that only Yae could know, and memories she shared with Itsuki. Now they have more time, she gets to know him as she never could before, and when she wakes up, all she can think about is going back. She imagines she never escaped at all; she and Mayu both died in the village. It's a strangely attractive idea.

Then, during her ever-shorter waking hours, she sees that the dam is complete, and the valley is flooded. There's no reason it should make a difference to her dreams, but she feels as if a bubble's burst in her brain, and the shelter of lies she's made for herself has collapsed.

The next time she falls asleep, the village is gone. She wanders a maze of forest paths, calling out for Itsuki, for Mayu, for Sae. Now she really is alone. Everyone has left her behind. She walks alone, night after night, until the summer freezes and snow begins to fall.

Then one night, after what feels like years, she sees a torii gate, and light between the trees, and hears singing. It's not Misono Hill, but it's close enough. She knows that somewhere nearby, everyone who went ahead without her is waiting. She can ask Mayu's forgiveness, and tell Itsuki how she feels, and she won't be alone any more. She won't be alone.

With a lightening heart, she starts to run.