Author's note: This fic will be a series of shorts from 'Siren'/'Forbidden Siren' based on one of the four paper fortunes that you can find in the Mizuhiruko Shrine during (Professor) Tamon Takeuchi's 'kill shibito brain' mission.　This piece will be largely from Takeuchi's point of view, but I am also planning to branch out to some of the other characters in the coming parts of the stories.

…

He whom you await heeds not your call.

….

After the earthquake, he used to leave his house from time to time whenever he felt restless. The woman taking care of him had tried to stop him—so had the neighbors, but nothing had worked. He never turned back until he had at least reached the bridge in the middle of the Janokubi valley, even if it was very late at night.

He liked to watch the silver backs of fish through the dark water as they made their way silently under the bridge. He liked to check for his name, which he had carved into the railing. If it was still there, he knew that this was the same bridge, the same valley, the same world, even though his parents were gone.

The river twisted like a snake below him, and sometimes, he wished he could jump down from the bridge and ride it to wherever it was going. He had often wondered about the world outside this valley. He had seen pictures and maps of Japan; of five small islands in the middle of a vast ocean, but it was difficult to believe in islands when one lived under the shadow of mountains, clustered together as though conspiring to keep people inside.

He often thought, at times like these, that he could hear them whispering, but as soon as he'd begun to listen, the sound disappeared as if the mountains had turned away.

Tonight was different. This time, the whispering had transformed into the sound of shuffling footsteps, slow, like somebody trudging through water. His heart had skipped a beat as his eyes pulled a shape from the darkness—a man, his back bent and sagging, his body swaying as though he had lost the desire to control it. He was carrying a rifle.

"Mr. Shimura?"

There was no answer from below. The figure simply pressed forward as the river rose up around him, carrying his gun carefully above the water. Tamon wondered at first if he was hunting for something on the other side.

But when he reached the bank, he stood up and pointed the gun at himself.

Tamon ran.

--

He pounded down the stone steps, ignoring the water that had already soaked through his clothes and that was still pouring from the sky. Yoriko was leaning against the base of the bridge, but he shouldn't have known that yet. He couldn't see as far as the base.

He was seeing through her eyes without needing to concentrate at all.

He wished instantly that he wasn't. She was looking up in his direction, but she couldn't see him yet. Her sight was blurred and dimming, with rain and tears and death. He could see himself approaching her, a dark shadow in the center of her vision, and he was so confused by what he saw that he began to fear himself.

God, why had he let her come with him?

"Yoriko," he called out suddenly and softly, as much to comfort himself as to comfort her. Finally, he could see her with his own eyes, sitting in the mud with the water rushing over her as if she had always been there. She was gray: all the color seemed to have run out of her through the red stain on her chest. Her glasses were missing, her hair dark and heavy on her shoulders. She looked like a statue, he thought, until he got close to her and then he could see the way her chest was heaving.

"Professor." He felt his lungs shriveling as her eyes rested on him languidly, out of focus. He dropped to his knees, reaching out for her with some latent instinct. He could feel her breath hitch in surprise even through her disorientation.

"I'm going to find him right now, Yoriko, and then we'll get help." Even as he said it, he knew it was impossible—there would be too much blood, and not enough time—he didn't have the car, and there was no way they would be able to get to the hospital without a car—

But he found himself willingly lying to comfort someone for the first time in his life.

"You'll be all right?"

She nodded as vehemently as she could, another lie, as he pressed her to his heart—god, she was so young. He had done something terrible in bringing her here. He could feel her breath, faint against his neck as he drew away.

This time, he ran toward Akira Shimura.