A/N- Thanks for reviews, guys! )

Chapter Nine

"Justification"

A crane...

It didn't take long for Akemi to put two and two together. The key that Natsuki had dropped belonged to the locked room just down the hall. It seemed an eternity ago, really...

The walk back to the locked room was blissfully uneventful. At one point, a strange breeze graced the hallway, stirring papers and dust. Akemi had stood ready for almost a full minute, but when nothing else happened, she moved on.

The crane lock was just as well-maintained as the door that it guarded, giving as easily as though it had been crafted and oiled that very day. The room itself was actually fairly unimpressive. It was just a small, cramped study, a writing desk just barely squeezing in the room and surrounded by shelves of books and scrolls. A rusty lamp lay not far away, broken in several places.

The desk itself was probably quite clean at one point. Now, an old writing brush lie snapped in half, and a bottle of ink had been spilled long ago, staining the wood. In the center of the desk, a worn, old brown book sat on top of a ragged square of paper.

Curiosity prodded the teenager, and she slipped the old parchment out from under the book. The handwriting was quite clean, and Akemi started to wonder if anyone around here dare let themselves write a bit sloppily.


There is some misunderstanding about the Ripping Ritual and its namesake.

The "ripping" that the ritual is so named for is not of the body, but of the mind. The child that survives is forever torn from the rest of society and the hopes of a normal life. This makes their eventual passing from this world all the more easier, both for the Maiden or Man in question and ourselves.

It's unfortunate that two of the three children must die in the Ripping Ritual, but sacrifice is what keeps the unseen darkness at bay.


The note didn't make sense at first, but as Akemi reread the old characters a few times, things began to link together.

Some of Natsuki's days... were they her last?... had been spent in terror and panic, brought about by being chosen for this ritual... and Kaori, a different girl entirely, had written about having to spend the day with two other children around her age.

Natsuki, Chiyo, and Kaori... Two had died, one had lived... But who?

And where was Noriko? What did any of this have to do with her?

As she pondered, a telltale prickle started to settle on the back of Akemi's neck. She first thought it meant she was being watched, but as the prickle became heavier and clearer, she realized it was something strange and different.

"Leave this place."

Suddenly and without sound, everything was changed.

The desk in front of her was suddenly pristine, shining in the flickering light of a nearby lantern. The writing brush, once broken and dusty, was suddenly one of the finest available, as was the small bottle of dark ink it lie next to.

And the study was suddenly a lot more crowded. Looking down, Akemi saw two bobbing seas of black, and hurried backwards, pressing herself against some bookcase. For a few split seconds, she thought that some new ghost had come to try and tear her limb from limb... but as soft, quiet whispers touched her ears, she realized that it was nothing but two little girls, both dressed in little kimonos.

"Leave this place." Repeated the stern, aging voice. Turning at the same time and with the same speed as the young girls, Akemi saw the voice's source, and felt a shock of familiarity. It was the icy, powerful ghost she'd seen at the top of the staircase. Even in life, he held that same strong aura, and wore the robes of a priest. The robes weren't fancy or ornamental as, say, the garb of a wealthy man or a king; the robes of a religious man were meant to show humility and willingness to decline material, mortal wealth. Yet, these robes in particular were a tad more decorated than most. A sign of status or rank, perhaps?

Akemi watched as the elder priest's gaze shifted, and she followed his line of sight. His eyes had fallen on the book that the girls had gotten their small hands on, and the teenager turned just in time to see a flicker of surprise in the man's eyes before it was suppressed.

Akemi turned back to the girls. They had long turned their own heads to see the priest, and though she didn't have a perfect view, Akemi could note a few facial features of the girls. They had large, beautiful eyes... though they were full of pleading at the moment... long eyelashes, and small, cute mouths currently coiled into an expression of fear. Given time, they would have grown up to be rather pretty.

But what struck Akemi more than the unborn beauty of the girls was how similar they were. Without a doubt, the two were closely related, probably sisters.

"Kaori and Chiyo, is it?" The voice, both in its harshness and the sound of familiar names, jerked Akemi out of her thoughts.

The sisters shifted uncomfortably, and nodded.

"Yes, sir." Answered the taller girl on Akemi's left, voice shivering slightly with nervousness.

"Put the book back where you found it, and leave. I'll be having a word with your father, later." The priest said coldly, stepping aside to allow the girls to leave.

Trembling slightly, the younger sister set the book in the center of the desk and straightened it. The older sister took her sister's hand and, after exchanging wide-eyed glances, scurried out of the room. As the sisters left the room, Akemi's vision of the past started to fade, and by the time the elder priest had set foot in the room, everything had returned to its dark, messy state.


Akemi continued to press against the bookcase for a few more seconds afterward, and only after she felt sure the silence had returned in full, allowed herself to relax. Her faith in the silence was soon destroyed, however, as voices rang clearly just outside of the room.

"With all due respect, I'm beginning to doubt this decision, Master. Siblings are so rarely used, and perhaps there is a reason for that. Even if it is nothing but an old superstition, young Hideaki and young Sachiko are perfectly suited for the ritual... They were chosen at birth." The voice, younger and with far less authority behind it, added as an afterthought.

"Kaori and Chiyo are far too dangerous. It is inquisitive, nosy minds like theirs that will damn the entire family once again. Minds that must be silenced or humbled. Minds a little like yours, in fact..." The elder priest responded, a subtle threat stirring in his choice of words.

There was a silence before the younger man spoke again. "I understand, Master."

"As I thought. Now go." The elder commanded.

Afterwards, there was a profound silence, and Akemi decided that the voices from the past had ceased, at least for the moment. As she closed her eyes for a moment, processing what she had just heard, things started to make sense...

"Leave this place."

The teen's eyes snapped open, and a steady heartbeat came into being, throbbing in her mind and the Camera Obscura.

"Damned..." The voice hissed from somewhere to Akemi's right, and she turned.

The priest's ghost hovered there, smoky non-body divided abruptly in half by the bookcase. His gaze was full of cold hate and malice, not dulled in the slightest by his death. That strange wave of power and hate that flowed from him was incredibly overwhelming in this small space, and every part of the teenager's mind screamed the same message; out!

Akemi whipped around and slammed the door open, forgetting how well-maintained the mechanics of the thing were. Just as she set foot out of the cramped space, the heartbeat in her brain doubled in strength, and she let out a small groan.

She turned just in time to see the elder priest's image fade, only to reappear in the space between the open door she'd just come through, and the one that lead to the hallway. Her chest starting to ache from the buzz of the camera, Akemi realized the only way to go was down.

She moved down the stairs in a blur, not letting her eyes close or the claustrophobic illusion threaten her again. With a grunt, she half-slammed into the door before opening it in a rush, turning around and closing it with just as much speed and desperation.

And, like a candle going out, the heartbeat and presence was gone.

Akemi stood there in disbelief for a moment, leaning against the door and straining every sense for the slightest sign of a spirit. When nothing came, she took a few wary steps away from the door, which suddenly seemed dangerous and looming in the dark. What strange boundaries did these spirits hold?

A small, soft ripple grazed Akemi's new sixth sense, and she blinked in confusion.

Almost patiently, the ripple came once more, and the teenager glanced around. The strange sensation came a third time, and Akemi let her gaze travel up the flimsy stairs of the fireplace room and onto the platform, finally resting on the two doors that awaited her there.