Chapter 3: Oilpaper Umbrellas
Mamoru walked upstairs quietly as he could, wincing at every minute squeak his shoes made. He had worked another long day, and then spent hours at his favorite bar. Even he admitted he was avoiding Rei, leaving his new wife alone in their house every single day. But what could he do? He couldn't risk…that…happening ever again. He left before she woke and came back only when she was in bed. It was best this way.
He had stopped going to the therapist; it didn't help anyway. He knew he wasn't crazy. That had been Usako on his wedding night. He was sure of it. And other things too; a steady drip in the night even though all faucets were tightly off, the sickening stench of her sickbed when he opened the closet door.
He wasn't crazy, he was haunted.
And there was no one around him who would understand that. He had no really close friends; anyone he told was also part of his wife's social circle and news would get back to her somehow. He just had to be…very careful.
He stripped off his tie and fell into bed without undressing. These long days were taking a toll on him, too. He had stopped shaving two days ago and his hair was greasily slicked back. He just couldn't bring himself to step into the shower cubicle and sit under all that water, exposed. No pools, no dishes, he would stay far away from wells.
Rei sighed in her sleep and rolled over slightly. A pang of regret struck his heart. If only he hadn't involved her in this, she was so innocent…
But she was, after all, the motive…
Another day, another box of takeout. This was a special day, Usako's doctor had recommended a different medicine, one perhaps more likely to help than harm. It was carefully wrapped in his handkerchief, plastic seal still in place.
"Darling, I'm home!" He called.
She half-lay by the window, propped up by the laundry he still hadn't gotten around to doing. A new father with a full-time job didn't always have time for domestic chores. But she forgave him. She always did.
She was so happy to see him, face cracking into a smile. She always acted as if he had been away for so long, starvingly clutching him to her even when they first dated. He smiled and set the takeout down, presenting the medicine with a little flourish. She giggled dryly, throat rasping. He went to the kitchen to get a spoon. As he shuffled through the drawers, there was a knock on the door.
The young woman sat upright in her chair, as if posture was an ongoing contest and she had her eyes on that gold metal. She held her glasses in one hand and tapped them idly on her desktop, eyes on the ceiling. She was absorbed in thought, trying to remember how it had sounded in her head so long ago…
Ami Mizuno, M.D., was a longtime friend of Usako's. They had known each other since kindergarten and continued to be friends even with their drastically different career choices. Ami was also her doctor.
She stepped carefully around a pile of clothes, nose wrinkling slightly. He didn't mind. It took some time to get used to the smell; after that you didn't notice it at all. She extended her hand to Mamoru, and warmly hugged Usako. She tickled little Usa's feet, cooing in an Auntly manner. Mamoru waited patiently until she finished with the formalities, and then smiled politely when she asked to see Usako's medicine.
"…they seemed happy enough, I'm sure, and there was no apparent reason for him to do it. Hey, there was more cause for him to stage it as an accident, prevent further damage to his reputation, but he didn't. He insisted it wasn't an accident, berated himself for not paying attention to her emotional state. It is very easy to believe that she could not stand what was happening to her and her child any longer, that she could not suffer anymore. The Usako I know would not want to put such a heavy burden on anyone she loved, no matter how painful the alternative was."
Ami Mizuno had calculated down to the gram how much medicine would be gone from the bottle had Usagi taken her medicine regularly and in full. She was barely off.
She sniffed around the lid and inside the bottle, taking a small sample on a cotton swatch to analyze in the lab. Mamoru sat in the living room through it all, unconcerned, playing with his small daughter. It was only when Ami stepped back in the living room, smiling tightly, announcing she had to go but would be back soon, that he looked up. His face was completely guileless, and he wished her a good night sincerely.
God, she hoped that was a good sign. She hoped the medicine tested negative. She didn't want Mamoru to be the one responsible, she only wanted a straw man to blame and hide the fact that she felt helpless to do anything about her dying friend. She needed justification, that was all. He couldn't be the one. If Mamoru was responsible…
Ami leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers.
"However, if that is the case, one thing puzzles me. How does a young woman, weakened by illness, lift such a heavy cover off a well? By herself?"
She sighed and rested her head in her hand.
"Anyway, it's no use speculating at this point; the case is over and done with and little evidence remains. No one could prove he was anywhere near the house at the time, he claimed to be out buying dinner. I'd like to believe that."
She didn't want to meet the man who could smile so innocently as he killed his wife.
Ami glanced up at her visitor, tsking at his unkempt beard and matted hair.
"And in any case, what could you do about it at this late stage? Kill him?"
He shifted in his seat and scratched his beard.
Mamoru shut the door gently after Ami left; Usa had fallen asleep in her mother's arms. Usako smiled down at her little daughter, a rare moment of peace when the pain didn't matter so much anymore. He tiptoed to the kitchen.
Once inside, he peeled off the shrink wrap and gingerly uncapped it. An acrid, sour smell reached his nostrils and they wrinkled. He had always hated how medicine was, from since he was a little boy. He hated how something so good for you had to taste so bad, and things that were bad for you had to be so tempting.
Mamoru shifted in his sleep, arm reaching out to encircle Rei.
He took the measuring spoons from the drawer and carefully poured the right amount, then threw it into the sink with a practiced flip of his wrist. He put the bottle away and took out Usako's real medicine, a plain brown bottle he had gotten in Chinatown. The stuff she had been taking all this time but had yet to do its job. Usagi withered away while he felt the clock tick. He wished it were quicker, he hated seeing Usagi suffer; but if it was too quick it would throw suspicion on him. He measured out medicine again and stashed the bottle quickly, walking out to Usako with a tray balanced on one hand and the spoon in the other. She put on a brave little smile, like she always did, and swallowed the medicine without shuddering. She did make a face though.
"So strange. It tastes just like the old medicine."
Was it him, or was Rei damp?
He set the tray in her lap.
"They make all medicine out of the same materials that they used when I was a boy. Boot polish and old fish."
She laughed weakly and he smiled indulgently, putting his arm around her.
Author's note: C'mon, you had to've guessed by now. If not, I'll reveal in the last chapter. See you then!