The Seven Carriage Serpent
Theme: Teens
Prompt: Horror/Crime
Warnings: Blood, but not gore.
Note: This is for the AoGA House Cup 2013 Last Stand. (See profile for more details.) Please rate accordingly (see the footnote).
The only sound in the empty expressway was the sound of the forceful winds whistling through the pitch black tunnel. Small pieces of rubbish brushed along the cement of the station platform with the gales, but except for this slight movement, the station was absolutely lifeless. It severely lacked movement, progress, life.
It was only seven p.m.—a rather early time for the precise, workaholic Hotaru Imai. Seeing the expressway in such a still state was much more than rare. It was most likely a once in a lifetime sight, if it ever happened at all during the comparably short lives people lived.
As Hotaru stepped onto the platform, her light footstep sent an echo bouncing off the narrow walls of the tunnel. She was curious as to why the station was in such a state. It was impossible for the train station to be so eerily empty. However, she noticed that the lights on the train line maps were still glowing and the monitored timetables were still operating, notifying without fail that the next train was due to arrive in less than seven minutes.
The cold seeped through the thick fabric of her business jacket, and sent shivers down her arms and skin. She stood firmly on the ground as she waited, facing the darkness which was the grimy wall of the expressway's tunnel. Every time she coughed or cleared her throat, it would resound in the giant cylinder of space, only to fade away like the final breaths of a dying sparrow.
Hotaru could feel her nose tingle, but she did nothing to provide it with the warmth it needed for preventative measures. All she did was cross her arms while clinging to the sides of her sleeves as she waited patiently for the train's arrival.
After a few unnecessary minutes of waiting, she glanced at her small, opal-faced watch— it was two minutes past seven. For such a highly renowned railway system, a delay of two minutes should have corrupted the timetables to the extent that the whole system would break down for days on end. People should have started screaming at the traffic controllers and they in return would make futile attempts to calm the angry passengers down over the irreversible delay.
But of course, the station was completely empty. Hotaru felt suspicious about the strange sight of the clear expressway, and started to make her way back to the escalator—back to ground level. However, before she was able to take a step onto the rising stairs, she caught a glimpse of a woman.
She didn't recall seeing another passenger on the platform with her, but there was something which made the dark-haired woman weary.
The figure— that was barely lit by the tunnel lights—appeared the same age as her. All Hotaru could clearly make out was the long hair being messed up by the gales, and the way she looked down at her feet, as if she were to conduct something extraordinary.
Hotaru allowed the rubber escalator rails to trail underneath her fingertips as she kept a close watch on the strange woman. In the back of her mind, she could hear the oncoming sound of the train from the depths of the tunnel. As the train approached, the movements of the strange woman started to become unbalanced and to Hotaru's bewilderment, it seemed as if she was swaying on the balls of her feet on purpose.
Finally, Hotaru stepped back from the edge of the escalator and approached the unsuspecting woman. Her heels clicked against the concrete, but this time they couldn't be heard. It was impossible in competition with the whirring noise of the train slowly moving along the tracks.
Even though the delayed train had finally arrived at the station, Hotaru was less than concerned. She didn't know what drew her to the sight of the other female as she twirled around once in her bare feet—something which Hotaru noticed as she approached.
The woman was still unaware of Hotaru's presence behind her, even though she was standing only a few metres away.
"...Is this it?" She sighed breathily, but to Hotaru's confusion, her words didn't send a single echo off the tunnel walls. "I see the light. It's coming for me."
Before Hotaru could consider what the stranger was talking about, two yellow eyes emerged from the darkness right towards them.
"The light... the truth... the dream... I can see it."
The train had arrived, but she was still observing the stranger.
Eventually, she wished that she hadn't done so. She could only watch helplessly as the woman stretched her arms into the air and suddenly leaned over the edge of the platform in a free fall— only to vanish as soon as the front of the train came in contact with her body.
Hotaru froze. Her briefcase fell from her slack fingers, and she wasn't able to break her gaze away from the very spot where the woman had fallen.
She couldn't comprehend a thing. Hotaru didn't recall seeing a trace of blood or hearing the sound of her body against the head of the mechanical anaconda. For a moment she believed that the woman had turned into a purple puff of smoke a split second before she was 'hit'.
"The light... the truth... the dream... I can see it."
Her words continued to repeat in her mind, like a flawed VCR. Hotaru clenched her jaw as she struggled to retain her composure. Still, knowing that she was clueless as to what had happened slightly irked her. It was a minuscule matter compared to the trauma of watching someone attempt suicide right in front of her eyes.
The whirring of the train gates alerted her from her horrified reverie. She hastily picked up her suitcase from the ground and entered the train, too dazed to comprehend all the strange and terrifying things which had occurred in the very station she waited in. It wasn't very characteristic of her, but then it had been a long time since her days as the indifferent designer she once was. Hotaru had significantly changed ever since the day of the accident—the day that changed her life more than anything else could.
With stiff legs, she immediately entered the last carriage of the train and sat tensed in the green train seat. As Hotaru finally regained a steady breath, she glanced up at the train line diagram. According to the small LED lights embedded in the locations of each station, it was a non-stop, direct trip towards her intended destination passing seven other stations.
Hotaru forced herself to stare forward while her grip on her briefcase's handle tightened considerably.
"The light... the truth... the dream... I can see it."
The words of the woman continued to repeat in her mind, attacking it as if it were an axe splitting a log. Even when in a daze, it was obvious that something was really off about her surroundings—the empty station, the close to empty train, the woman on the platform.
However, as soon as Hotaru started to reconsider her decision to get on the train, the doors sonorously beeped thrice before sealing shut, not to be opened again until seventy minutes later.
The train moved in an excruciatingly slow pace. In one of her old moments of cynicism, Hotaru bitterly guessed that it was proceeding approximately ten centimetres every second.
Annoyed, she glanced at her watch.
Seven minutes past seven. Not one minute had passed since the train had arrived at her station. Hotaru arched an eyebrow at the unmoving face of her thin watch. She was completely sure that it had been more than five minutes since she had left in the train. She flicked the glass face of her watch with her fingernail in an attempt to make sure that there was nothing flawed with it but as expected nothing changed.
The second hand was frozen.
"Damn it," Hotaru muttered under her breath. She reached into her jacket pocket for her mobile phone.
However, after she pressed a button to unlock her smartphone, she didn't see the time that she was expecting to see. Instead, the space where the digital time would usually be displayed was completely blank. The screen flickered for a moment before it eventually blacked out.
Confused, Hotaru double tapped the button but still, there was no sign of her phone switching on as normal. Even after removing and reinserting her phone battery, the phone still remained dysfunctional. Usually, Hotaru would have thought rationally about the reason—that it was merely a small technical problem with the communication device. But under these circumstances, she knew that it wasn't possible.
Exasperated, she shoved her phone in her pocket and by habit glanced at her watch again, only to see that the hands of her watch had disappeared. The opal face stared up at her, without the small ticking arms obstructing the full view.
Hotaru couldn't believe her eyes. Her grip around the edge of the plastic seat tightened and the rough edges started to scratch her pale skin. She glanced around her surroundings. Something that caught her eye was the LED train map. The lights which were supposed to blink were frozen and the train was still moving at a snail-like pace.
"Ugh, what time is it?" she muttered in irritation as she stared out the window. The dirty stone walls of the tunnel passed by. It proved to be the only indication on how much time was passing. As soon as she asked herself the question, the train lights started to flicker—just like the screen of her phone before it mysteriously went dead.
What time is it, Mister Wolf?
She could hear a demonic voice whisper in her head as the carriage lights flickered from brightest light to darkest night.
"Who are you?" Hotaru forced out. Her back was stiff as a board as she remained in her seat.
You don't recognise my voice? You're the same as ever, the voice sneered with a tone that sent shivers down her thin spine.
Oh, you're shivering? the voice gasped sadistically. Maybe I was wrong, you have changed. You're no longer the stone cold girl you once were.
"Who the hell are you?!" Hotaru spat out. Her fingers started to tremble and her grip on the chair grew even tighter. The only reply she received was a haunting laughter that was suddenly accompanied by the resonant ticking of a giant clock.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Hotaru suddenly felt conscious about the leather strap around her wrist. Knowing why all of her sources of time had disappeared, only to be replaced by the sonorous tick of an imaginary second hand in her mind was beyond her rational knowledge and common sense.
As she finally glanced up from the blank, unreadable face of her watch, the sight of a monstrous clock confronted her eyes.
Hotaru couldn't believe what she was seeing. Embedded in the wall of the train was a black and white analogue clock that was missing its numbers and markings. Its second hand was not ticking and the minute hand would always tick backwards instead of forward.
Despite this, it ticked.
Unable to take the absurdity, Hotaru immediately stood, paying no attention to her suitcase that slid along the flop of the train. She spun on her heel, only to be greeted by the sight of more clocks.
Analogue, digital, sand timers and sun dials adorned the walls, floor, ceiling and doors of the train carriage. Hotaru saw white, green, brown, red, black— every colour ever to exist on the face of a time teller. But she noticed one crucial thing which made all of the clocks the same.
They were all wrong.
Things were missing. Not one of the clocks could tell her the exact time.
How does it feel, Hotaru? To not know how much time you have left? Because I never did, the mysterious voice reappeared in her mind, as if it was planning to torment her back into insanity. You probably don't feel any different because you never had time for me or for anyone in the first place.
Hotaru searched for anything—a person, a mouth, a button, an exit. She roamed the space of the carriage, urgently pressing any button she could find and attempting to force open the sealed doors but it was to no avail. She was willing to do anything to escape the familiar voice that used to haunt her dreams every night.
"What the hell do you want?!" Hotaru growled after she failed to break the window. "What do you want with me?"
...What do I want? the voice snarled at Hotaru's desperate question. You should know what I want—you should know why I'm here!
Suddenly, the clocks around her exploded into shards of metal and glass. Hotaru instantly ducked and shielded her face as the shards sliced her bare skin and the fabric of her suit. Red second hands collected themselves on the floor of the carriage and the hour hands turned into daggers. It pierced the walls and the glass with tremendous speed. The sound of shattering glass and the voice's hysterical cackling almost forced Hotaru to scream out loud.
I'm here because I want you to suffer what I suffered— seven fold!
The largest clock finally imploded. The ticking hands sliced the air and pierced the plastic chairs of the train. The glass split and embedded themselves into the ground. One shard scathed her forearm, slicing open the thick fabric of her blazer and exposing her cut skin.
"But why?!" Hotaru shrieked— no sign of her former self in both expression and tone— as she forced herself to stand up with trembling legs, with a hand-sized piece of glass clenched in her hand. "You wouldn't do this! It's impossible!"
Impossible?! the voice boomed on cue while the back door of the train swung open with tremendous force. Didn't you say before that you didn't know the meaning of impossible?!
Hotaru started to back away from the end of the carriage. Her hand frantically searched for the button that would lead her to the next carriage. As she struggled with trembling hands, a pure white rabbit in a blue vest crept into the cabin from the back door.
What time is it, Hotaru Imai?
The rabbit hopped towards her in a hurry as she briefly broke her eyes away to find that there was smoke emerging from her watch. In a panic, she hurriedly undid the buckle and tossed it towards the rabbit without a second glance. Her other hand finally found the small button.
It's dinner time!
Hotaru pressed the button and forced the door open, but she remained in the carriage long enough to see a wolf dive in and clench the rabbit in its mouth.
The carriage doors slid open behind her, and she shuffled back— away from the terrible scene of the wolf attacking the rabbit.
"We are now arriving at Ginza station." She could hear the electronic voice of the train announcer from the back of her head, not expecting the voice which was to follow as soon as the doors finally separated her and the wolf.
This train will not stop at this station! The same mystery voice cackled from the speakers.
Hotaru spun on her heel to see that the sixth carriage wasn't empty. A man dressed in a crimson frock coat and a silken top hat bowed down to her respectfully—similar to a butler and his master. She didn't have the time to feel thankful that another human was with her on the train. She already knew who he was, and she was certain that he wasn't supposed to be there. Also, he appeared too questionable for her to feel safe in his presence. She was confused at the sight of the crystal embedded cane in his gloved hand, and the plastic duck bill attached over his mouth.
"What are you doing here, Koko?" she asked as she kept her back pressed against the door, preventing herself from looking back.
Hotaru had since calmed down but she was still shaken. Her expression was calm in front of another human, but her white knuckles were more proof than anything about how she was really feeling. She herself was surprised that she managed to stay composed after seeing Koko, of all people, in front of her. The said brunette chuckled as he rose from his bow and casually swung his cane in the air.
"You sound disappointed. You don't want to see me, after all these years?" Koko sighed in mock disappointment as he tapped his chin.
Hotaru suspiciously glanced around the new carriage. Sans Koko and herself, the carriage was just as empty as the last one. But she wasn't pleased. The silence was too tense for her to feel relieved and she refused to seat herself on one of the chairs. His presence alone was suspicious. He wouldn't have reappeared in her life— in his fancy get-up, nonetheless— for a petty reason such as 'seeing his friend again'.
If she had been in his position, she wouldn't have even bothered to come back to Tokyo.
"I asked you once Koko," Hotaru hissed as she sent a glare at the rich conglomerate, "What are you doing here? And I know it isn't because you're here to see me."
Koko laughed at her accusation."You got me," he admitted, as he adjusted the spectacles balancing on the crook of his nose. "There is another reason why I'm here to see you."
"Well, hurry up and get to the point." Hotaru snapped, but she couldn't help letting her eyes wander over his attire. She had never in her life expected to see Koko in such a state, where his cane was worth much more than what her life ever would be.
Koko sighed in exasperation as he dug his gloved hand into the pocket of his frock coat, and pulled out a gold coin.
"Just a little gift as thanks for my success," he explained before lazily tossing the coin onto the ground, letting it roll on its edge. The coin stopped near Hotaru's feet.
The woman could only scoff at his choice of a gift.
"...Do you think I'm that greedy, Koko? Is this the type of person you see me as?" she angrily challenged him, keeping her eyes diverted from the polished gold circle.
"You can take it or leave it, Hotaru. It's your choice."
She wanted to retain whatever pride she still had but the lustre of the coin's surface called out to her. Hotaru felt like she was losing all sense of rationality as her desire to take what was offered grew within her.
Giving up her fight for pride—since she felt she had lost all after the accident—the woman crouched down and attempted to pick up the coin. However, six other coins suddenly flung out of it as soon as she laid a finger on its engraved surface. Her extended hand immediately flinched back and her head snapped up to send him a glower. Koko smirked sadistically in return—an expression which she didn't expect to see from him.
I knew that you would reach for it, he whispered, but the voice which emerged from his mouth wasn't his real voice. The demonic sneers of the mystery being had followed her into the carriage as Koko's face distorted into a deranged grin.
Suddenly, she felt the train start to speed up in its tracks. The whirring started to proceed and the carriage started to shake and bump as they progressed further. Hotaru gulped as she forced herself to look behind her, through the window of the carriage's back door.
Her first sight was the wolf from before. It pounced forward upon noticing her presence and clawed the window with its bloody paws. The doors of the carriage shook and screeched from the immense strength of the beast.
Hotaru immediately took hasty steps away from the closed door, only for her feet to bump into the gold coins on the floor. The small circles exploded into more and more coins. She tried to jump away from the growing pile. She shivered at the cackling guffaw of the being as the number of coins by her feet started to increase rapidly. As one coin touched another, they would burst into another seven and after a few minutes the floor of the carriage was flooded with gold.
Hotaru cringed at the feeling of the uncontrollable coins turning into missiles as they shot themselves at her bare legs. She shuffled back, away from the distorted face of Koko then lost balance as the coins underneath her foot shifted. It was only a matter of time until she felt herself falling and eventually her back crashed into the solid pieces of metal underneath her.
How does it feel, Hotaru? To not be able to keep what you have under control? To not be able to survive in this sea of gold? The being mocked her with Koko as its medium. It condescendingly stared down at Hotaru who could feel the coins multiplying beneath her.
She tried to push herself up from the coin layer but Koko pressed his foot onto her stomach, thus keeping her helpless. His eyes were crazed and twitchy. As he leaned closer, he licked his lips with the long tongue of a beast.
The long tongue of a monster.
Saliva dripped from his lips onto her face, as she relentlessly struggled against his restraint. She felt herself being carried up towards the ceiling of the carriage by the collecting gold beneath her. It was only a matter of time when the life in her would be squeezed out, both by the coins and her overwhelming panic.
It's hopeless, Hotaru! the being roared in pleasure at the sight of her. Now tell me, how does it feel to not get what you want?!
"Goddamnit, Koko—"
Hotaru's voice caught in her throat as she watched Koko's hand decompose into even more coins. Then his arms followed. Eventually the foot planted on her stomach crumbled into hard pieces of gold. His body disintegrated but the beast still smiled his demonic grin even when his head exploded into metal.
As soon as her body was free, she saw a glimpse of white at the corner of her eye. Hotaru clawed through the rising layer in a desperate attempt to follow it. She was moving closer to the doors of the carriage—albeit slowly.
While she pushed herself against the gold, she could hear three voices echo in her mind: the sadistic tone of the being, the horrific growls of the hungry wolf next door, and his voice.
It was the latter that rang clear in her head as she carried on.
"This isn't the end, Hotaru. Just make sure you push on."
She felt the skin on her fingertips break as she clawed herself through the falsely glorious sea of gold. When she was only a metre away from the door to the next carriage, it suddenly slid open, causing the sea of coins to collapse and disintegrate into small flames as soon as they passed the threshold.
Hotaru tumbled into the carriage along with the coins and as the distance between her body and the ceiling increased, she noticed the rabbit from before at the corner of her eye.
She felt the coins beneath her burst into tiny, harmless flames. They barely scorched the edges of her blazer, and the small flames crawled along her skin, leaving invisible marks of heat along her pale skin.
Hotaru felt paralysed. She couldn't feel anything but the flames against her skin because of the coins that were pressed against her whole body. She couldn't bring herself to stand up from the cold ground, despite the growing ring of fire around her. Her fingers twitched as her nails dug into the floor of the train while she pondered over what had just happened.
This was now the seventh carriage. Of course, she had no clue about how many minutes had passed. In truth, she didn't want to even think about it. She just wanted it to be over.
All of a sudden, the strong scent of the sea tickled her nostrils. In contrast to the small fires around her outstretched body, she— like many times that night— couldn't come up with a logical reason. A moment later it fused with the smell of bubbling oil and the train started to shake almost uncontrollably. Hotaru could feel the ground shift from underneath her but she felt too exhausted and lethargic to push herself up.
We are now arriving at Kasumigaseki station.
She wondered if someone would find her in the state she was in— weak, bruised, lying on the ground of a battered and destroyed train. Her thoughts ranged from the possibilities that the police would believe her story that she wasn't the culprit of this vandalism caused by madness and madness alone, to her re-admittance into the mental institution that she had called 'home' for seven years.
But what ran through her mind most significantly was why she felt so indifferent about both her near-death experiences by the most impossible means. Even when she was experiencing fear beyond anything else as she made her almost feeble escapes, she felt like a cicada shell— dead, with no reaction to the world around her. The only thing countering this thought was the unrelenting drumming of her heart.
Always the calm one even after having your life endangered, aren't you?
Hotaru opened her mouth slightly to murmur in reply, "...Just go ahead. Kill me. Get your revenge, god damn it. I don't even care anymore."
The voice broke into a demonic laugh, echoing throughout the whole empty carriage. She glanced around her surroundings and remembered that the last two carriages had looked just the same before being annihilated by the being.
Kill you?! Hah! I don't want your life! Death is nothing compared to what I want to put you through! the voice roared. Hotaru bit her tongue hard to the extent that she could taste the blood in her mouth.
Suddenly, she felt a drop of moisture on her cheek as she lay on the ground.
Then another.
And a few more soaked into her clothing and dripped down her legs.
Hotaru slowly raised a hand to wipe the drops on her face away with a finger. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what it was.
Fresh, rust-scented blood.
It trickled down her finger and created a trail along her upright hand. As soon as Hotaru's eyes strayed from her bloody finger, she noticed more of the crimson liquid drip down the walls. It collected into puddles on the floor. In a matter of time, the whole carriage was stained red. Blood trailed along the glass of the windows, dripped from the once pristine ceiling then started to douse the small flames and flood the carriage.
It was absolute fear which forced Hotaru to sit up despite the numbness of her back. She shuffled towards the middle of the carriage where the dripping life force hadn't reached the ground yet. She finally stood up when the blood reached her feet, and even when she was standing the blood continued to flow out of the carriage's cracks.
How does it feel, Hotaru? I know all of your weaknesses, no matter how hard you strive to hold that front of yours, the voice asked. Even though it was no longer screaming, its tone was mocking her pain. How does it feel, to not have enough strength to bear your greatest fears? To immediately transform into a helpless mouse when confronted by the greatest hardships?
The blood had risen to her ankles, and Hotaru trembled in her spot as she could feel the liquid rise up her bare legs.
How does it feel, Hotaru? Answer me. Because I know that you feel like dying inside— that's how I felt!
"Stop it," Hotaru bit out as the flood reached her knees. "You win. Don't go on."
I don't want to win, Hotaru. I know I can't win against you. It's something I've understood for these past seven years! the being screeched and the blood under her knees started to ripple.
The overwhelming scent of corrosion made Hotaru nauseous. The drips from the ceiling grew faster as they fell into her scalp and hair. A single drop trailed down the side of her forehead and along her angular chin. However, it wasn't the mass amount of blood she was scared of. She was forced to admit that the being did know her well.
Hotaru was scared of the flood.
"Stop it!" she finally screeched, but she couldn't bring herself to move towards the door. Hotaru feared the idea of leaving her solid position on the floor and, even more, the idea of falling in.
The dripping of blood had turned into small waterfalls. The edges of her skirt were soaked with red. The deeper the sea of blood, the more conscious and edgy she felt. The higher the blood level rose, the more she wanted to leave— but she couldn't. Not when her only company was there to torture her for the sake of sadistic pleasure.
Hotaru grabbed one of the hanging handles above her with a shaky, red hand. She instinctively cringed inwards, away from the hot liquid that stained her clothing and her face.
"This isn't the Hotaru I know," a voice spoke in her head. It wasn't the demonic being. It was his voice again.
She opened her mouth to reply, but not a single sound came out. Hotaru could only stand still as the blood reached her mid-thigh.
"Yes, definitely not the one I know. The Hotaru I know would be at the door by now."
She moved one foot forward followed by the other. Keeping her tight grip on the upholstered handles, Hotaru gradually moved forward. Not one ounce of her fear had been erased. She was still terrified of the blood creating waves around her waist and his words didn't give her any confidence. However, she still managed to move forward because of one reason.
If she was able to reach the door, she would receive the one thing which she wanted the most in the world.
Hotaru grasped the door as she began to hyperventilate. Her shaky hand trailed towards to the button and she managed to press it with a weak force.
"I don't think I can forgive you for this," she seethed with a trembling voice as the doors slid open. The blood level immediately fell to her feet.
The train started to move even faster than before. The handles hanging from the ceiling started to rock back and forth from the train's direction change, and the small trails of blood also followed the movement as they created unique paths of moisture along the chairs.
Hotaru felt herself fall backwards towards the back wall. She grabbed one of the handles for support. The powerful inertia was keeping her back against the bloody wall and she was barely able to maintain her balance against the powerful force.
So you survived even that! the demonic voice scoffed among it all. Are you that determined to get out?
"I didn't do it for you," Hotaru hissed under her breath as she tried to control her shaky legs. The image of the carriage behind her was still ingrained in her mind.
Then why? Why did you escape, Hotaru Imai, when things could be so much easier if you had just given up?
"You put me through this. It's none of your business!" she growled, as her grip on the handle considerably tightened. "You have no right to ask me that!"
The voice did not reply.
Hotaru looked down at herself as the train sped on. She was covered in dry blood mid-thigh down and it had soaked into the fabric of her business skirt. Her high heels were also bloodstained and on the verge of tearing apart.
Suddenly, the blood started to gleam as the dark red stains crept up her skirt reaching her shirt. The dried liquid on her hands mysteriously grew and created intricate trails around her arms and wrists. The blood on the floor trickled along the length of the carriage as it gave the grey ground a red tint and created musical-esque designs on the wall space around the doors and windows.
She heard the scratching sound of a record player from the carriage's speakers before it immediately switched into slow jazz music. An unknown, overly-peppy voice spoke up during the song's opening, as if the train had travelled back into the seventies.
Now playing as we arrive at Kokkai station is 'Why Don't You Do Right' by the one and only Jessica Rabbit!
The floor turned into reflective tiles, and a single yellow spotlight shone in the middle of the carriage. Before Hotaru knew it, the carriage had suddenly transformed into a dance floor from the seventies. One of the cartoon character's famed songs played via the carriage's speakers.
Hotaru felt something brush her bare leg and she immediately froze in her place. She feared what the now silent being had planned for her next. She wasn't pleased about the eventual outcome, good or bad. However, as she glanced down without moving her head, she realised that it was the white bunny from before, snuggling into her leg.
She was bewildered. She could clearly recall the very same rabbit being torn to pieces by the wolf in the first carriage and the blood stains on its white fur were evident proof that it had in fact experienced it all. The rabbit— for some odd reason which she couldn't explain with logic, just like all the other happenings that night— wasn't something she wanted to fear. Instead, she was compelled to reach for it. Its white fur shone even in the indirect light of the spotlight and its blue vest preserved the clean fur underneath.
However, as she leaned forward with her hand outstretched in order to stroke it, the rabbit hopped towards the spotlight. As soon as it reached the edge of the circle of light on the floor, it frantically jumped back. The lit spot of the floor burst into a ring of flames.
The fire rose up and the rabbit scampered underneath one of the bloody chairs. The orange flames curled up into an intricate twist in the middle of the spotlight and shaped itself into the curvaceous figure of a woman. The flaming woman stepped out of the ring of fire. Once the fire was extinguished it revealed another appearance— one which she knew all too well.
"Sumire."
Hotaru couldn't bring herself to sound surprised at the beautiful woman's appearance because of the incident with faux-Koko earlier. The said woman was leaning on one leg as she donned a glittery rouge dress that exposed too much skin. Hotaru knew what to expect from this Sumire— not only because of the medium use of the demonic being, of whom she was sure still lurked in the carriage.
"Hotaru? What are you doing here?" Sumire asked her, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her tone.
Hotaru—despite the tense atmosphere—clicked her tongue in irritation. "Isn't it obvious?"
Her question immediately wiped the grin off Sumire's face. She clicked her fingers once. Immediately, at the sound of the click, the flames around the spotlight rapidly spread to the edges of the carriage and before Hotaru could comprehend, she was surrounded. She could feel the flames nibbling at the back of her jacket. She felt herself being forced forward. Backing away, she caught a glimpse of the rabbit from before as it pushed itself through the flames, unhesitant.
Her steps backwards started to increase in speed and width. She ended up moving against a cold metal bar placed by her feet. It caused her to lose her balance completely and fall face down on the mirror tiled dance floor as the flames continued to rage.
Hotaru could see her reflection—bloody, messy, exhausted, and terrified.
"How does it feel, Hotaru?" Sumire taunted as she roughly pressed the metal microphone stand against her back, keeping the former planted on to the ground. "To know that you scare others away? To know that no one finds you beautiful in any way?"
Hotaru wanted to keep her eyes clamped shut, but an unknown force was preventing her from completely closing them. She had no choice but to see herself in the mirror.
Sumire broke into maniacal laughter. Her voice distorted into the being's— just like how Koko's had. She snapped her head in Hotaru's direction and the black-haired female could only widen her eyes at the sight of seven elliptical eyes that had taken up the space on Sumire's face. She wore a mad smile and it was reflected on the mirrored floors.
"How does it feel?! To only see a beast in the mirror?!"
Hotaru remained silent but she had her answer all figured out as hot tears emerged from her eyes while she continued to stare.
...I'm hideous. I'm a monster. I'm a heartless devil.
Suddenly, the incoming flames shot towards the middle of the room where Sumire stood. They curled around her arms, her waist, her legs, her neck.
The woman screamed as the flames started to scorch her skin, and her body started to crumble into ashes. At the same time, Hotaru felt the weight planted upon her back lift and saw Sumire's body start to fade away in the mirror tiles' reflection.
She jumped away from her reflection as if it was a monstrous spider. As the flames started to douse themselves, she shuffled back towards the door while still on the ground. She raised a trembling hand and pressed the button on the wall. The doors of the carriage slid open.
Hotaru staggered out of the sea of flames into the next carriage. She started to hyperventilate. The panic that had been strangely absent for the past hour finally caught up with her. She was clinging to the rooted metal bar with both hands as her legs lost the strength to go on.
A montage of her past experiences flashed in her mind like a camera reel— the shattering clocks, the paralysing sea of gold, the rising flood of red, the burning mirrors and the grey wolf. She could still feel the sharp clock hands slice her skin, the gold coins jabbing into her back, the warm liquid crawling up her legs. She could still imagine as clear as crystal the glass shattering all around her and the wolf with the bloody teeth pouncing at the window. She could still remember how she looked in the surface of the clock faces, the sea of blood, the shiny coins, and the mirrored tiles.
Hotaru looked truly pathetic- something she had never been classified as prior to the accident.
Her eyes flickered left and right, scanning the dim carriage. The only sounds present were her panicked breathing and the train travelling along the tracks, having slowed down. The edge of the seat dug into her back, but she did not remove herself. True fear had long overcome her and all she wanted to do was remain as far as possible from the empty carriage space.
Hotaru felt as if she was being driven into a corner— in fact, she was.
There was nothing in which she could injure herself with. The carriage was completely clear except for the poorly cushioned chairs and the smooth metal handlebars. All she could do was softly bang her forehead on the handlebar she gripped and sob quietly.
There was a heavy presence somewhere in the room, and Hotaru—sensing it easily—glared at thin air.
"I bet you're having the time of your life," she forced out between trembling breaths, "Seeing me like this. Are you happy now?! You're free to laugh, for all I care!"
And just as Hotaru cynically sneered, the being did laugh. A shrill cackle overpowered the sound of the train before it replied with a tone full of sadistic delight.
Oh, I am! I'm having a ball! This feels better than I expected!
"Enlighten me, would you then?! You're not only doing this to—"
Blah, blah, I'm not doing this just to torture you, I get it! Cut the dramatics out, will you? the voice sounded exasperated to Hotaru's slight surprise.
Her jaw was set. She was determined to know, so she could somehow understand why she was being tortured. She wanted to know.
"Just spit it out," Hotaru muttered under her voice, her tone full of utter malice.
Hah! You think a threat like that would faze me! How does it feel, to not know what you should be able to know? To not be able to let yourself out, to be restricted?!
"You—"
Hotaru paused in her speech as she saw the white rabbit once again. Its fur was bloody and slightly burnt, but nothing seemed to affect its ability to jump properly.
Recalling the white flash she had seen near the door while she was being paralysed in the sea of gold, Hotaru came to a conclusion.
"You saved me, didn't you?" She sighed as she weakly raised an arm to pat it. "Or are you another one of the demon's goons, like Koko and Sumire?"
Hotaru was still bitter— not that she wasn't during the entirety of the whole train experience. All she hoped for was some sort of peaceful connection with the only other source of life in the otherwise empty train, even if it was in the form of a rabbit. The rabbit hopped forward and snuggled against her leg. Its Brady eyes looked up at her with an emotion which she strangely read as human.
"You're not trying to kill me, are you?" she breathed as she looked down and tapped its twitching nose.
Hotaru heard the being sigh in exasperation. Boring! It's just a rabbit, not your goddamn saviour! I'm not going to wait for this touching moment to end.
And stop waiting it did. A ghostly grey hand appeared out of the wall and reached for one thing in the room: the rabbit.
"No!" Hotaru unconsciously screamed as she immediately took the rabbit into her arms. The woman felt a sudden boost of will within her as she held the rabbit close, and— while still on the floor— immediately evaded the carbon arm's first swing.
Oh? What's with this newfound strength? the demonic being taunted. A little late if you ask me.
Hotaru remained indifferent to its taunts. She had decided that she refused to be a victim any longer. She reached the back wall and used its support to push herself up. The rabbit was still in her arms. She stood in full view of the being.
But even though she had declared herself as someone who would fight back with genuine earnest, and she despised the being for torturing her the way it did, she couldn't bring herself to kill it— if she was ever able to. Hotaru couldn't stop but cringe every time it spoke— not of disgust, but of hurt. As she evaded the impacting grey arm swinging and wrecking even the metal handlebars, feelings of conflict swirled through her mind.
The hand reached out towards her, and she was fast enough to duck out of its way, leading to the hand clawing the wall of the train. It made a tense fist, and suddenly tore the metal wall apart. A metal hole gaped in the carriage.
Hotaru took this opportunity and sprinted towards the door. She had a sincere feeling that she would be saved if she reached the frontal carriage of the train. However, as she mashed the button of the door with her finger repeatedly, it didn't budge. She only had a second to comprehend this before spinning on her heel to find the grey hand reaching for her once again.
This time, she couldn't duck. A sudden force around her waist tightened and pushed her against the very door she had tried to open.
You're not escaping this time! The all too familiar voice growled, as smaller hands started to form and grow out of the big one restraining her. They stretched and distorted. Some forced her legs still as others made loops around her arms and neck. The more she struggled, the tighter the hands' grip on her became. They were made out of pure gas, but they were more than strong enough to restrain a solid human.
Now this is more like it! How does it feel to not be able to move?! To have the doorway pressed against you, when you cannot go through it?!
The hands forced her arms apart and she was pressed to the wall along with the rest of her body. She felt the rabbit hop out of her arms in the last moment and she bitterly thought to herself that it was going to escape without her. It was expected. But she felt shattered, nonetheless.
One smaller hand extended high and in an instant wrapped around her neck. The hand moved up and clasped over her mouth tightly.
Hotaru struggled even more when she realised that this in fact was the end. As soon as she had gained the determination to escape, it was going to stop her—permanently.
How does it feel experiencing your last few minutes before the end?
Hotaru could only shiver in the cold grips of the multiple hands. All she wanted to do was throw away all the pride she had left so that someone would save her. Names immediately flitted through her head— Natsume, Nonoko, Yuu, Anna, Kitsu. She sincerely hoped for the appearance of anyone— even him.
And for once, Lady Luck blessed her wishes that night.
As she felt her own body weaken, she saw the rabbit in her peripheral vision with something red in its mouth. It sped away from her towards the centre of the carriage. Hotaru's sight was starting to become blurry. The rabbit halted for a moment before leaping forward in the direction where she stood. As it miraculously passed through the gas arms of the being, it shot like a bullet towards the glass of the door. In the split second before the rabbit and the door collided, she noticed that what the rabbit held in its mouth was an emergency glass hammer.
All of a sudden, the glass door behind her shattered, and Hotaru was released from the hands' grip. She felt herself fall backwards against the shards of glass.
We are now arriving at Shinjuku station. All passengers must exit the train at this platform.
Hotaru made a feeble attempt to calm her ragged breathing as she rested herself on one of the plastic chairs. She had lost all energy to move from the struggle, and the sound of the electronic voice was music to her ears. She could finally escape the haunted train— but she knew she wouldn't be leaving without scars.
Her eyes flitted around her surroundings. The train was moving at a regular pace, and all windows, except the shattered door, were fully intact. Neither the shadowed arms nor the white rabbit was in sight. She was now seated in the frontal carriage of the train.
A glimmer from the dark corner of the carriage caught her eye. The surface of the object had briefly reflected the lights of the tunnel. Hotaru's breath hitched as she stared at the item with pure bewilderment.
It was her wristwatch, the exact same wristwatch which she had discarded out of fear during her traumatic experiences in the furthest carriage. It was battered in blood stains and burns— beyond repair— but she couldn't bring up the confidence to move closer. The memories continued to pound her mind like a battering ram and she felt her grip on herself weaken despite the being's ceasefire.
Because awaiting the unexpected dangers was far more frightening than experiencing them in quick succession, to the point where nothing could really be comprehended. She squinted at the watch, analysing it from where she sat. Hotaru immediately noticed that this watch wasn't exactly the same as the opal-faced one which she had received years ago.
The face of the watch wasn't of opal, it was a rich gold. The brown leather of the straps was stained with black powder and blood and the edges were burnt. But how it appeared wasn't what astounded Hotaru the most. It was its mere presence in the frontal carriage that left her speechless.
She refused to think back as to what happened during the first carriage—it was a torturous feeling to even have a brief thought about the experience, and she wasn't able to recall what happened to her watch.
We have now arrived at Shinjuku station. Please take caution as you depart this train.
Hotaru turned her head expectantly towards the doors but they did not budge open. She forced herself to stand up and she walked towards the door with trembling knees. The barely lit platform of the intended station was strangely appealing from the other side of the door. After the doors remained closed for more than a minute, she angrily pounded on the window with her clenched fists. The longer the doors stayed shut, the stronger her hits and the louder her screams became.
"I've had enough of this! Just let me out! Let me out!" she screeched as she shook the doors urgently to no avail. She was desperate to reach the peace on the other side. "Stop kidding around!"
How does it feel, to be constrained? To lack the ability to escape, to not have the power to do what you want? the voice finally appeared for the final conversation of the night, but it did not echo in the empty carriage nor did it show a tone of unnerving malice. Instead, the voice itself trembled, heavy with an unexpected sense of uncertainty.
Hotaru shook her head as she leaned her forehead on the door on the verge of tears. She was certain that it was not guilt.
"Fine, I'll answer your question. It feels terrible," she forced out, still refusing to turn around, "Worse than anything I could ever imagine. Even worse than the seven years I— no, I'm not saying it. You should know."
...You're right. I do know. The voice agreed. But your night is not quite over yet.
"Not over yet?! What could be worse than this?! Enlighten me, would you?!" she burst out in a moment of sarcasm. She would later recall this use of sarcasm as one which she would regret her whole life.
...Fine. That was my plan all along, Hotaru. To have you suffer what I've suffered my whole life. While you've lost what you once coveted, I never even had them in the first place! AND THAT'S WHY I'M NOT GOING TO STOP UNTIL IT'S OVER!
Hotaru immediately clenched her eyes shut, expecting the worst pain ever imaginable to slice through her body. She waited for the end of everything—her life, her empty dreams, and her terror. She was sure that she was no longer in a state of living. It had been seven years since the existence of the cold, clever, capable and coveted Hotaru Imai, all because of one unfortunate incident.
She eased her eyes open, only to meet gazes with an all too familiar pair of eyes to match the familiar voice of the demonic being. In terror, Hotaru pushed herself away from the door and staggered back. The impossibility before her was simply incomprehensible. She shook her head in denial at what she saw, but the person continued to blankly stare at her from the other side of the train door.
"No... This isn't you. You're supposed to be in the hospital!"
The being spoke up, but the mouth of the person did not move. You're right. This isn't me... yet. It will be, Hotaru Imai.
As the voice spoke, the person sent her a sad smile. As the voice and the body didn't match at all, Hotaru couldn't bring herself to be mad. The woman in front of her was the same woman Hotaru had seen before she had boarded the train. This woman was not the same person who had tortured Hotaru through the night. They had the same identity, but they were completely different versions of the same person.
As the woman turned around and walked away— shoulders slouched— Hotaru sped towards the door once again and banged repeatedly in desperation.
"Wait! Please! Don't do it! Let me out, damn it! Let me out!" she screamed and attacked the door as the woman in the white dress approached the edge of the platform.
This is the future me, Hotaru. How does it feel, to not be capable of saving the one you treasure most in this world? Because I never had the capability to survive!
"But you had me!" Hotaru finally exploded into tears as she turned around, glancing around the carriage for some sort of presence. There was none. "Wasn't I there for you?!"
Not to reign in my childishness! I admit it, I'm immature! No one besides you actually liked me! I wanted everything! And now, the present me has probably lost her best friend! Because of jealousy... Her voice started to grow quiet and at the same time Hotaru felt her vulnerability hit her. That's why this is the best decision for both of us, Hotaru. It's best... that I leave this world, and that you know about it. You're my best friend, so you should know at least some of my plans... right?
"It's not worth it, Mikan—"
Yes, it is! Besides... it's too late now. Now all I want you to do is to experience what I experienced during my whole life... because best friends understand each other, right? Even if one of them is being selfish about it all?
The far sound of an incoming train started to ring in her ears, and Hotaru immediately spun on her heel and pressed her hands on the door's window.
"No, no, no, no, no..." She muttered underneath her breath as she attempted to force the door open again by all means. She clawed at the seams, shook it from its frame, and banged at the glass, but she was unable to escape the cell that had imprisoned her.
The apparition of Mikan had finally reached the edge of the platform. She turned around and smiled at Hotaru. Her eyes were full of regret and sorrow and it clawed at the ebony haired girl's chest. The brunette raised a small hand and waved shyly, ignoring the frantic pleas of her best friend.
"God damn it, Mikan! Get back here! Don't do this! Don't you dare leave me here on my own!" Hotaru screeched as the tears spilled out of her eyes.
She didn't care about the possibly bad feelings her best friend had. Mikan Sakura was someone who gave her what she had never lost, even after the accident. As cheesy as it was, it was something she would never sacrifice for anything else.
And even though Mikan herself didn't know, she had it too— but in the end, it was too late.
The whirring of the train was amplifying in sound. Its headlights illuminated the tunnel as it approached. Mikan spun around in circles, like she had done seven stations away, and sent Hotaru a sad, but reassuring smile before letting go of herself. The smile didn't reassure Hotaru at all. Instead, she screamed maniacally as she watched Mikan fall and collide with the train—only to evaporate into thin air once again.
Hotaru felt herself crumple onto the ground, with one hand pinching the glass surface of the mirror weakly.
"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real..." she repeated between ragged breaths as she violently shook her head in denial. "She's not Mikan. Mikan's still alive."
But no matter how many times she tried to calm herself, it was to no avail. She pounded on the metal doors which stopped her from screaming sense into the apparition of her best friend.
How does it feel, to not be able to save the ones you love?
This time, the voice didn't echo through the carriage. It was merely in her head.
Hotaru saw no point in answering, when she herself already knew the answer. However, the main reason why she lost all sanity as she sat near the door was because of one thing the voice— her voice—had said.
This is the future Mikan.
MARUNOUCHI LINE TRAIN HIJACKING CAUSES A MISUNDERSTANDING?
On Sunday the 7th of July, the Marunouchi line train due to arrive at Shinjuku at 8:17 p.m. was reportedly hijacked by a group of rogues. Reportedly, there were no notable casualties in this incident, nor was there any damage made to the train. All of the men involved in the hijacking, as well as the many passengers on the train during peak hour traffic were escorted off the train at Tokyo station by police soon after the hijacking had been reported.
However, the ring leader of this group of rogues had remained in the driver's quarters of the train all the way to Shinjuku station, where he found out about the absence of his colleagues.
The only other reported person on the train was a woman in her late twenties. She had boarded the train at Ginza station without the knowledge of the hijacking, despite the sudden evacuation of all stations connected to the Marunouchi line.
No reports of her current state have been publicised as of yet.
The rogues have been sentenced to a six-month good behaviour bond. The aforementioned unknowing passenger has remained silent on the incident and has not yet explained her side of the story to the media.
Hotaru did not bother changing into different clothes or taking a shower. There was a heated argument commencing in her mind— the dominant side emphasising that nothing was in fact real.
As soon as she had been escorted off the train by the police who had arrived at the scene soon after the final apparition, she had realised that someone had been driving the train all along. She could clearly remember screaming at him as her body trembled in an uncontrollable rage to open the doors of the carriage, and the hijacker was intimidated enough to comply without a single argument and allow himself to be arrested by the police.
The driver's quarters were the seventh carriage—that was something which she had realised just before screaming her way out.
However, the fact that someone else was in the train with her the whole time wasn't her greatest concern— it was nowhere close. Thinking to herself that she had suffered enough absurd and irrational horrors that night, she left the train— only to find that the blood which should have dried on her pale legs as well as stained along the edges of her skirt was nowhere to be found.
Hotaru was clean. She could no longer feel the numbing sensations of the coins on her back or the scorching embers nipping at her skin. One thing remained with her.
The memory of it all.
True or false, she knew that the night of July 7th wasn't going to be a night easily forgotten.
As soon as the sun rose the next day, Hotaru forced herself to get out of the comforts of her own bed—not because the blankets themselves were comfortable, but because she feared the encounter she was planning to make at the hospital. She couldn't stop her body from trembling as she went on in her daily routine—brushing her teeth with a clumsy hand, treating her already worn clothes as an animal of which should be delicately treated, passing the doorway with a ragged sigh of relief.
After struggling to go through everyday life as if nothing significant happened the previous night, she finally reached her intended destination— the hospital. Hotaru took a deep breath before straightening her back and taking long strides along the overly white hallways which she tried to ignore. They were a sight too haunting for her to handle, in the psychological mess she was in already. Even the floor reminded her of what had happened seven years ago.
She could only imagine the muddy footprints and the drops of blood as she kept her eyes glued on the ground. She could remember the bloody dagger of the man who intended to murder her in order to gain what she had. Hotaru could only think bitterly that even when he failed, and had stabbed her best friend instead, she had already lost everything.
But did she want it back? Not when she would have to suffer a fate worse than the happenings of the previous night— where even her best friend wanted what she had, even when she didn't even have them anymore, and would do anything to make her feel what she chose not to feel.
The near-stabbing incident had somehow shaken both Hotaru's sense and sanity. She eventually realised that it was not worth having the money, the beauty, the unlimited time, the strength, or the freedom if she were to be stalked by a queue of coveters her whole life. She felt like going mad when the delusions had made her weep about the fact that she didn't have one thing which she truly wanted—capability.
Hotaru felt like it was her Doom's Day, when all would be confirmed—the seven carriages, the wish to covet, and the future of both her and Mikan Sakura.
Eventually, she had arrived at the doorway of the hospital room in a cold sweat. All Hotaru could think about at that moment was how the patient would react to her arrival. Would she be normal or would she be the same evil being from the previous night? Would she be the Mikan Sakura Hotaru thought she knew for the past decade, or would Mikan be the one holding the resentment completely uncharacteristic of her 'cheerful' character—or was it a persona?
Hotaru couldn't help but ask herself one question.
Who is Mikan Sakura?
Hotaru eventually entered the hospital room to see Mikan smiling as she fiddled around with a video game. The ebony haired female could see the pure joy in the brunette's eyes as she pressed the circular buttons at a rapid speed and unconsciously turned the small machine to the left in order to 'help' the car turn. The electronic sounds of tyres screeching and cars bumping against each other could be heard where Hotaru stood.
Suddenly, Mikan raised her hands in the air and squealed in sheer happiness. "I won! I finally won!"
"…Mikan." She finally forced herself to call out, and the brunette's head perked up at the sound of her best friend's voice.
"Hotaru! You came to visit!" She rejoiced as she tossed the game console away without a second thought. She was only attentive to Hotaru's presence in her hospital room.
The tired woman tried her hardest to smile, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. All she could see in her best friend was the Mikan who had fallen off the platform edge the previous night, only to evaporate into thin air; the Mikan who expressed her hatred through the medium of her voice and others' bodies in a series of incidents too bewildering to be true. Hotaru couldn't even choose between believing and disbelieving the happenings.
She sighed for the umpteenth time that day, before walking forward and taking a seat in the hard visitor's chair. It was merely a plastic chair, yet it sent shivers through her whole body.
"Hotaru? What's the matter?" she heard Mikan ask, but Hotaru could not answer. Instead, she clenched the sides of her chair as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"I'm fine. It's cramps," Hotaru eventually managed to answer while carefully leaning back in the seat and facing Mikan directly.
The brunette was puzzled. "Do you want to go and see a doctor, then? We're in a hospital right now—"
"No."
"But, Hotaru—"
"I said no, Mikan." Hotaru hissed unintentionally as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"…Oh, okay. Sorry, Hotaru." Mikan apologised with a slightly remorseful grin, as she looked down at her empty hands.
Hotaru hadn't meant to use such a tone when Mikan was worried about her. The emotions from the previous night started to bubble up again and she could feel herself lose her composure once more. But not even that could make her want what she had once owned— a stone-cold composure. Nothing could deter her from staying away from it all.
"Mikan, please be honest with me. Have you ever…"
"Ever what…?"
Hotaru swallowed, unable to bring herself to ask the question at hand.
"What is it, Hotaru?"
"…Have you ever wanted to covet what I used to have? Around seven years ago, before I was placed in the mental hospital?" she finally forced out then she gripped her knees in anticipation.
Mikan grew silent. The curiosity in her eyes had dulled away immediately, and the sides of her lips curled down in discontentment. However, the suddenly solemn expression disappeared as soon as it came, as she answered with an overly bright tone.
"Well, you had all those cool inventions before, and you never let me have them! Does that count?"
Yes, it does.
"…I see."
The answer was soon followed by a long silence. Hotaru was staring blankly at her hands, and Mikan had turned her head away.
…Could it all be real?
"Um… Hotaru?" Mikan spoke up once again, this time with a worried tone.
"What's the matter?"
"I… I want to go somewhere, Hotaru. With you," she explained hesitantly, but her facial expression appeared anything but hesitant.
This piece of information snapped Hotaru from her partial reverie. While mentally clearing the dreaded thoughts from her head, she looked back at Mikan directly.
"Where do you want to go?"
The brunette's expression suddenly morphed into a dim one. All traces of the previously happy Mikan went out of sight as she muttered her answer.
"…The train station, Hotaru."
Hotaru froze, as she stared at Mikan with an expression of terror, which she was unable to conceal. She watched the determined brunette for what seemed to be for hours on end, before only one thing managed to catch her eye—a white flash from the window of the hospital room.
It was the rabbit.
Credits and Acknowledgements:
The White Rabbit is a character from Alice in Wonderland, of which the themes of the Carriage of Time and this story's rabbit have been borrowed from.
Scrooge Duck and his trademarks have been borrowed for Koko and the Carriage of Fortune.
Jessica Rabbit and her trademarks have been borrowed for Sumire and the Carriage of Beauty.
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