Silent Inaba

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

Beta By:

A/N: LOL This turned a little different then what I was thinking about before.

/

The departure from Junes was anti-climatic. Yosuke merely went into the break room, hiding in the corner while he recovered. The corners of the building had a little more grime then he remembered, the lights a little less bright. But that could have just been his own exhaustion coupled with stress. Safe to say, being locked in an elevator at that moment had more of a sensation of a coffin being lowered into a grave then it had any right to.

Chie stood at the other side of the box, her hands in her pocket and rather relaxed save for the exhaustion she must have felt. He turned his attention towards her, both as a source of information and for the pleasure of it. She said that the sleep was a ritual, everyone was expected to sleep. But why? What was about the fog time that made people forcibly opt themselves to sleep? What came out during the fog time?

He wanted to ask her, inquire about this strange ritual, this even stranger place. Yet somehow he didn't feel she was the right person to ask. She gave in, went with the flow and accepted the status quo. He needed to breach that status, dig deeper if he was going to figure out what tried to kill him in the other world. The Other World itself. Oh and the voice in his head, because until that moment he had never had such a 'get me out of this thing' sensation overwhelm him as he did right at that moment.

Souji gripped the handrail in the elevator when there was a sudden sound about his head, a loud 'ding' as the elevator jerked to a stop on the ground floor. The fresh air made him momentarily forget he wanted to ask Chie some questions as he quick stepped his way out of the box. But he wasn't the only one out there, a few other boys from their school stood around, apparently waiting for the elevator themselves.

"Hey Chie-chan! You don't look so well," and the guys were apparently Chie's friends. Or male admirers. He stood to the side, his instinct to cut in and look after her was forcibly shut down as the guys were doing what he wanted to do. Worse yet, he didn't have the energy to contest them for that right. Chie looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes questioning him on his condition. At least she was thinking of him, despite being surrounded by guys who were in a better state then he was. Despite the annoyance it spurred in him, he nodded, letting her go with them. She apparently knew them well enough to go with them after all.

"? Thou art quick to be taken by a female."

"I'm not 'taken' by her. I just like her type," he grumbled as he pushed himself from the wall and unhooked the bag containing his umbrella from his side.

He felt an urge to ask questions, which was rather odd in and of itself. Asking questions that you know the answers to, then again this was probably a side effect of sharing his mind with whatever was inside him now. Souji felt what the stranger felt. "Who are you?"

The sense of a question, of his own mind pondering that question rose up and he began to wonder how much was the town's 'behavior'. How much was what Igor was talking about. Because they couldn't be connected, or Chie would have known about the man.

Leaving Souji alone in the rain heading towards a house that his uncle and cousin lived in. Stores that were closing up for the night were soulless eyes staring out of concrete faces that blurred behind rain drops. Eyes staring out at him from behind bushes, and tree limbs, whispers drowned out by the sound of rain fall. Puddles reflected light from street lamps and darkness above.

The sky was dark and between the darkness around him and his dark school uniform, he was soaked by more then a lone passing car. The dirt and blood on him felt like living tattoos, crawling on his body. The water was chilly, and he was going to have to draw himself a bath when he got back to the house. Though how was he going to avoid Nanako? The child didn't need to see the state Souji was in.

As Souji walked he tried to piece together Yosukes' story, comparing it to his own story. Yet Souji still had the voice from that night in his head talking, though rarely and Yosuke made no mention of verbal communication. Was it because of the music he was playing? Did that being speak to Yosuke? Or was it a being at all?

He dug into the jacket pocket, pulling out the key to the house that Dojima had given him. Closing the umbrella before slipping the key into the lock and letting himself into the house. The shoes were removed and put into their spot on the rack before he walked further into the house. Peering out of the entry way hoping that Nanako was absorbed in what she was watching. Souji was in luck, after their initial greetings she had gone back to watching a trivia show that was on.

Leaving him thankful as he quickly made his way up the stairs to get his things so he could take a bath. The clock on the wall showed it would soon be time for dinner and he wanted to be cleaned before his Uncle got home. 'If' he got home before dinner. But he couldn't escape from the Presence, not when stepping into the bath resulted in a surprised sensation.

It was as strange and different as it was normal and ritual. Every action, from reaching for the bottle of shampoo to rising off soap came with a wave of newness and curiosity. He had a desire to study everything he touched in the bright light of the bathroom. But then his attention was drawn to the water and all the grime being washed off him. Suddenly, what 'had' to be Nanako's rubber ducky, was more interesting. It was a bright yellow duck of sturdy rubber and wearing a little white ballerina outfit. It squeaked when he squeezed it and he almost put it in the water, until he saw the amount of grime around him.

Sighing, he quickly finished up the bath, he'd have to clean the tub out before dinner as well it seemed. Digging around the bathroom proved that for now, Dojima's reign still existed, there was only a box of girlish band-aids sitting around under the sink. In other words, mens' grooming supplies, bath room cleaning supplies and that one lone bright pink box of band aids, for life's owies.

Igor, that strange old man, had said that Souji had been forcibly redirected in his life's path. That was an interesting way to look at things. 'Redirected' rather then given an out right new one could imply several things, one being that this whole situation 'was' an option. But perhaps it was not originally an option with high probability of happening. Realistically speaking, if his parents had opted to stay in Inaba, he would have been raised here and probably have known about the fog. Removing him from the town took that option out, though he 'had' been here before, the fact that Uncle Dojima used to watch over him was proof of that.

His mother knew about this town, the town knew about what was going on in the area, but whatever 'it' was. The town didn't seem to see a reason to evacuate. It was that little fact that bothered Souji so much. If this town was so dangerous when the fog rolled in, then why didn't people leave town? It wasn't a situation that the world knew about so not only was it being kept a tight secret. But it was being tolerated. If that was the case, why? What was causing people to opt staying in a town that was considered dangerous?

People went crazy? Weird things happened? These were things that television thrived on, if that was going on in this town, then why not have it on air? Why didn't anyone post this on a media network? If the grown ups didn't the teenagers sure as hell would. How could there 'not' be a group born of the desire to air whatever madness happened in Inaba on national television? After all they were airing the affair for the world to see. They were letting the reporters in like it didn't matter. Then again, they could also have been drugging all those people, the same way they tried to drug him.

"Dinner is almost ready," the soft knock that accompanied the soft voice distracted Souji into turning his attention towards the door. Nodding uselessly before he found his own voice.

"Ok, thank you Nanako-chan," he called in answer, his silvery eyes focusing on the door roughly where he figured she would be standing at. Wondering at the same time where she ordered out and concerning himself with finishing up.

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She hadn't ordered out. Rather she made the meal herself, nothing that involved the stove or oven, a cold meal if anything. Yet, it bothered him to think of her cooking meals by herself, it resonated too strongly with himself and his upbringing. Was it a family thing? Leaving the child to fend for themselves? Despite his own fatigue he couldn't just sit at the table while she washed the dishes, the child so small that she was using a chair to reach the sink properly.

"Nanako-chan? Here, let me help you," he walked up behind her, watching her start in surprise and turn to look at him. Her eyes were hooded with nervousness as he took up a spot beside her, before looking down at the plate in her hand. "Do you want me to wash or dry?"

She was quiet for a moment, the room was painfully quiet of living inhabitants, the tv making up for the silence by providing the noise behind them. Dojima wasn't home, his uncle was still at the station working due to the murder. "I'll wash."

Her voice was so soft, so tiny it could have been overlooked had Souji not been waiting for an answer right at her side. But he nodded, taking up the towel she pointed out and beginning to dry off the plates themselves. With her guidance he was able to put the plates up in their proper locations, some which would have required Nanako moving that chair around a great deal.

"You know, I do this by myself when I'm living with my parents, I've been doing this since I was your age in fact."

She looked at him in surprise, her eyes showing a question she apparently didn't feel brave enough to ask. Instead she lowered her eyes and nodded before climbing down the chair and pushing it back to the kitchen table. Granted he wasn't a vocal person by choice, but her discreet to wallflower demure nature was enough to make him wonder. He didn't have his parents around and didn't end up this way, why was Nanako so shy?

He watched her leave, she still had time to watch the television since Souji had helped with the dishes. Where as he was exhausted from his trip through the Other World. The whole ritual of brushing his teeth felt as though it was brand new to him, a strange sensation to be sure. The usually generic mint had a stronger tang then he was used to. Waking him up as his muzzy brain pointed out how it was almost as though he was in a brand new body. The conversation from the night before took root in his brain again. He didn't have voices in his head before his arrival, and the voice implied that they were one and the same with a goal to 'open the door'.

He finally turned his gaze towards the mirror and stopped brushing his teeth. His eyes had always been a type of silvery color, unusual but accepted after some time. Now they were a sharp shade of gold, a color he never expected. Had his eyes been this color when he took the bath? Souji felt something waking up and stretching in the core of his chest. Something that was slipping through his blood stream like quicksilver taking over everything.

He should have been scared, fell away and run out of the bathroom, yet after today he couldn't find the energy to be afraid. In the back of his mind he could still see Yamano crying out for help as she was consumed by those spirits. Despite all that, he couldn't find the energy to move away. No matter how he felt, he was rooted to that spot in the bathroom. "Who are you?"

"Thou art I. I art thou. Must there be more?"

"Ah in a word? Yes." There was a feeling of chill on both his shoulders, as though someone had pushed 'away' from Souji and the chill that had been consuming his body now had a spot on both shoulders. As though someone stepped out of his body in fact, as the sensation of warmth slowly returned to him.

"I art thou, I know not of anything more," the words were oddly spoken. Not just in the old Japanese that he shouldn't have known, and yet did. The words themselves sounded as though someone was speaking into his ear, but was so faded it sounded like whispers.

"Is this hell?" Souji asked, a whimsical question that he had to ask for no greater purpose then to hear his own voice.

"He-ll?"

He could figure out the second question, the stranger didn't know of the word itself, nor knew of what it referred to. So whoever or whatever 'this' was, was not someone who knew about Christianity. Shinto's version of hell was Yomi, the land of the Dead. Though dead, it wasn't technically 'evil' just a place where everything rotted away. The cold began to sink into his back, the sense of a presence making Souji realize that whoever this being was, they were returning to him.

When the spirit had stepped out nothing had happened, but the moment the spirit returned he stole all Souji's warmth, causing goosebumps to race up his legs his spine to the back of his neck, down his arms, turning his vision gray. Like a puppet his hand snapped out catching himself before he hit the side of the sink on his way down. From there the puppet continued.

Eerily he was pulled up to his feet, a glance in the mirror proved his eyes to be pure gold now, before he was walked up the stairs. There were no words between them, Souji could barely see the world around him as he was moved along. Left foot, right foot, left foot over and over again up the stairs with a flailing attempt at grabbing the door knob. His mental questions were left unanswered as he walked into his room, so the spirit knew to a degree what was what. The futon was pulled out in a clumsy manner, with Souji being placed in it.

The last thing Souji saw before he closed his eyes was a box on the coffee table in his room. Glowing a rich royal blue. The kind of blue that made him think of the Velvet Room and the last messages he received from that place.

'U R in Hell.'