Title: Hands
Prompt: March 11 / but you can't touch my shaking hands
Fandom: Corpse Party
Character/Pairing: Naomi, Seiko, Satoshi, hints of Naomi/Seiko, Satoshi/Naomi
A/N: Ahh, I really need to write a Yorshiki/Ayumi fic. D
Summary: How can you miss someone who never existed?
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Her hands reach out across the bed. There is nothing beside her, the vacant space empty and cold. Not even Seiko's heat lingers there, as it does in Naomi's memories.
But that makes sense. Seiko doesn't exist.
She never did.
-x-
Her mom thinks she' going mad. She doesn't say as much, but watches her with wide, panicked eyes.
Naomi doesn't know what to say against it. Maybe she is. Maybe she already did, back at that school. When they left, left Seiko behind, maybe her mind stayed with her.
"Ready for school?" Her mom's voice is quiet, nervous.
No, she wants to say. But staying in her room doesn't help. There is too little of Seiko here and too much of her everywhere else.
"Yes," she lies and leaves for the station for her train. When it gets to her stop, she stays on and rides it all day instead. Switches it and rides another one after a while.
Rides it everywhere. Nowhere. She shouldn't miss a person so much. She shouldn't miss someone who never existed.
Not with her memories that never happened.
The next day, Satoshi picks her up and she knows she can't skip anymore.
-x-
"We're worried about you." His voice is quiet, low. Not scared like her mothers, just worried.
She wonders how Satoshi can go to school every day. How he can handle the memories there. Naomi can't even handle one girl and there are three other friends she has to yet to mourn.
"I'm sorry." The words taste like ash. She tries to remember a feeling other than sorrow and despair.
Like love. She loves Satoshi. Loved? She doesn't know anymore. He's walking her to school daily now, his hand close enough to grab, to touch. The bleak horizon drowns out the flip flops of her heart.
"I don't know what to do, how to act," she confesses, scared. For herself. Of herself.
All around her, there is darkness. The shadows are creeping up her spine and she's afraid they'll engulf her entirely.
Naomi was never the strong one—that was Seiko.
"Me too." His smile is fragile here and she is reminded once more that he lost as much as she did. If only a little less.
But it's too soon and she makes no move to bridge the gap.
Her hand hangs limply next to her instead and she can hear Seiko's voice scolding her.
-x-
In her empty room, Naomi can remember it.
No, remember would be better. Worse. She can just imagine what happened, her hands slipping the rope over Seiko's neck.
A voice screams at her to stop, the words coming from a movie that repeats over and over in her head.
And, and—nothing else, nothing more.
The black takes her and she drowns in her sleep.
-x-
"Are you feeling better?" Ayumi asks, her own eyes dark from a lack of sleep.
Yorshiki hovers nearby and Naomi wishes she could be as strong as him. Or Satoshi. Or even Ayumi—she's trying at least. Which is more than Naomi is.
All she can do is try not to cry at the empty seat behind her, the extra desk that no one has claimed.
"No," she says. The truth leaves a sharp taste and she wants to cut someone with it.
But that changes nothing. She had yelled at her mother so many times and all that left her was a home she hardly stepped in.
"It's hard to go on," Naomi clarifies.
"Yeah. If only everyone else remembered."
"That's the worst." A final indignity.
"I…" Ayumi purses her lips, her eyes shimmering with tears. "I wish I could do something about it."
Yorshiki lays a hand on Ayumi's shoulder, concern written on his face. Satoshi looks at Naomi like that too, sometimes.
And sometimes, she wants to answer.
-x-
The infirmary is dark and quiet. Only the metal edges of the bed are visible from the candle. Seiko leans against her and Naomi listens to her breathe.
"I love you, you know," Seiko says. It reminds Naomi of a dream she had, in this infirmary, the room flooded with light. A brief touch of lips, a soft summer kiss, and that was the end of it.
"I love you too," Naomi answers, the words coming clearly now unlike before. She might never get another chance to say this.
"I know."
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to kill you—I didn't want to hurt you." The words flood out of her. "I didn't mean to leave you alone."
"I know."
"I don't want you to die. I don't want you to be dead. Please come back, please come back to me."
Seiko remains as she is, her weight solid and familiar against Naomi. Her lips part, a soft intake of air, and she twines their hands. "I can't."
"Why? I can't survive without you. I can't. Please, I need you. I miss you."
Seiko shifts, leaning even more on her friend. "I'm already dead, Naomi."
"But—"
"You can survive, Naomi. You have to."
"Not alone, I can't—"
"You're not alone. Satoshi's there. Ayumi's there." Seiko turns to face her, a smile on her lips. "I'm always there."
Her body fades, her warmth fades, and Naomi desperately holds on tighter to nothing. "No, don't go. Please don't. Don't leave me don't leave me don't—"
She wakes up, drenched in sweat.
The space next to her is still empty, the memory of a slumber party that will never happen again.
"Why?"
She tastes the salt of her tears, the blood in her mouth, and remembers. Seiko is dead.
And she's still alive.
-x-
It's sunset when she finally admits her fear. "I'm forgetting what she looks like."
Her secret. Her shame.
She killed Seiko once and now her memory is doing the same.
"Me too," Satoshi replies, looking over at her.
"I don't remember the exact shade of her hair, the sound of her laugh." Naomi's voice cracks. "She was slightly shorter or taller than me."
Satoshi says nothing, just moves next to her. It'd be so easy to lean against him and cry.
"I can't even remember her smile."
"But…you do remember something else." Satoshi's voice is calm and she had forgotten how reliable he could be at times. "You aren't forgetting what's important."
Her kindness. Her silliness. The way she used to make Naomi so angry and just as easily so happy.
"Maybe not." She looks at the gap between them, the space between love and solitude, help and self-reliance.
She's still not ready to cross the gap. But she can make an attempt.
Her fingers brush against his and she almost smiles when she feels warmth.