Chapter 37

In her dreams, she lay at home where she would wake wrapped in the bedsheets Naegi's parents had insisted on buying them; in a house whose smell and sounds were familiar. The morning sunlight that poured through her window was pure and not hampered by angry clouds. She yawned, opened her eyes and when Naegi wasn't next to her, that merely meant there would be coffee waiting for her downstairs.

But then consciousness caught up with her and she remembered enough to realize that was a dream – she remembered enough to be afraid. She told herself it was nothing. Naegi was getting breakfast or, as much as she hated to admit it, hanging out with Yonaga or Kamukura. She told herself that, but as the minutes passed, she couldn't wait anymore. She leapt out of bed –

She gasped as hot pain ran up her shin and she wobbled. A couple of days ago, she surely would have been on her knees, but the days had done her well. Although her ankle was throbbing again and tender, she could stagger to the door without much delay.

"Makoto?" She looked up and down the hall, finding it empty. The bathroom. She hadn't considered that. Yet when she tested the bathroom door, it opened for her.

"What's got your panties in a knot?"

Enoshima. Kirigiri wheeled around, but not before regaining control over her emotions. She told Enoshima, "I am looking for Makoto."

"Hmm, Makoto? Short little guy who's too tense and has an antenna sticking out of his head? Yeah, he's with Izuru."

She scowled. "Was that your idea?"

Enoshima shrugged. "It's nice to see the kids get along, right?"

. . . Goddammit! She didn't trust Kamukura and she certainly didn't trust Enoshima. On reflex, she checked her phone, even though she knew Naegi couldn't have texted her because the goddamn signal . . .

Was strong.

Enoshima waved as Kirigiri staggered off, and that must have meant she didn't know what Kirigiri did. Kirigiri punched in the number and fought the urge to nibble on her nails as the dial tone rang. And someone picked up.

By the time she collected herself enough to speak properly, the taxi company was on the verge of hanging up. She spoke just in time, feeling detached from her body as she arranged for a cab to retrieve them. She hung up with that same sense of unreal detachment. They were finally going home.

She returned to the bedroom, packed hers and Naegi's belongings, and then brought the bags downstairs. She dropped them at the bottom of the staircase as her gaze drifted across the calm, empty church. Her eyes settled on the door to the garden. She had to check. She had to be sure this was real.

Sunlight did not greet her when she opened that door, but that was okay because it wasn't raining. Water squelched out of the ground where her weight settled, but she ignored it. She limped to the gate and looked at the misty trees.

"Kirigiri."

That wasn't Naegi. But it wasn't anyone from the church either. She looked left. Standing there at the corner of the garden wall, locking eyes with her, was someone she had never expected to see here:

Owada Mondo.

"What are you doing?" she asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"Looking for you." There was no emotion or inflection in his voice. That was unusual coming from the normally loud and hot-tempered officer. "Thought I'd find you here when you didn't come home. Where's Naegi?"

"Not here." Normally, she would be upset that Owada hadn't come across her missing boyfriend either; in this situation, however, she was relieved. Kirigiri had encountered dangerous people before; she worked among dangerous people like Oogami Sakura and . . . Owada Mondo. She had learned that there were certain tells when those people were prepared to get really dangerous.

Owada was displaying all of those tells.

"Good," Owada said. "This is about you and me anyways. I thought I was being stupid at first when I couldn't find the fucking book in your house, then I figured out that if I were covering up a murder, I'd keep the evidence on me, too."

"You were in my house?" she said sharply. "Do you realize that's breaking and entering?"

"So, what? It's against the law. Is that your fucking problem? Well, y'know what else is against the law: being a shitty detective and hiding evidence of a murder!" He stepped forward. He seemed to move softly, yet she felt the vibration of his footfall through the ground. "You should rot in prison like the rest of those bastards."

A growl seeped into his words. She wasn't going to be able to reason with him – not about this. This had festered for too long, had grown roots that hooked into too many parts of his brain. Normally, she would be moderately concerned; Owada was aggressive and strong, but her brains and training exceeded his. However, fighting someone like Owada required speed and steady footing, categories in which her ankle crippled her. And Owada had already locked onto her like a cat stalking a bird.

"Owada-kun," she tried to speak calmly yet also inject authority into her voice, "this is going too far."

Owada stopped moving. His shoulders shook. He laughed – tried to laugh – but what left his mouth was more of a barking cough. "They murdered one of my best friends. How the fuck am I the one going too far?"

She sized up the distances: even though she was closer to the door back inside, Owada would undoubtedly hop the wall if she tried to run.

"Naegi in there?" Hearing Naegi's name immediately made her head snap around. "Is that why you're staring at that fucking church?"

She said nothing.

"He doesn't need to get involved," Owada muttered to himself. "Fucker's too small. Get himself killed too . . . Kirigiri, you ain't gonna be happy if Naegi walks in on us, huh? Let's go out back where he can't see us."

Into the woods where nobody can see us, was what she heard.

Owada wasn't armed, but in her current state, he may have well been. She raised her arms in surrender, taking slow, careful steps into the forest, trying not to betray how big of an advantage he had over her. The ground squelched under their boots, as if sucking them in. The great haunting spectres of wind-battered trees blocked out the light and surrounded them.

"So, Kirigiri," there was a sneer in Owada's voice that suggested he was mocking Togami, "got anything to report?"

"No, but I do have a question. What does Ishimaru-kun think of your conduct?"

"Don't -! Fuck! You bitch! He ain't getting involved with this shit!" A fleck of spit danced at the corner of his lip.

Her intention had been to shame him, to hope that a reminder of his straight-laced Bro would shake him back to his senses. Instead, Owada reacted as if she had suggested taking a cleaver to his neck.

"Is that why you brought Naegi here?" Owada demanded. "To burn 'im at the stake with those crazy bastards?"

Anger would not help her here. Owada was nuts; she couldn't take what he said seriously.

"Owada-kun, what do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want."

Yes, she did. It was too dangerous to give it to him though, but she didn't know how to fend him off until. . .

"You want this book?" She reached into her purse and pulled out her detective notebook instead. She tilted the cover away from him, ensuring he couldn't read it. "Very well. Fetch."

Her ankle was weak, but not her arms. She reached over her head, and then flung her notepad as far as she could. A shout, and then Owada was gone, having pursued the false lead. She turned back toward the church and moved as fast as she could. He hadn't taken her too far in; if she kept up a steady pace, she could be back inside before he realized it was a trick. Water soaked into her socks and boots. She was going to have to remove them afterwards, borrow clothes again. It was just like the other time she and Naegi had stumbled into the swamp, and . . .

She was in the swamp.

How? It wasn't this close to the church –

Big people like Owada shouldn't be able to move stealthily. Yet there was no warning before the sudden hand on her braid and the yank. It created an odd pain, like a numb area that had been hit with a cold hammer; a strong, heavy hammer though. It made her gasp and fall back into Owada's chest.

"Bitch!" he hissed.

"Owada-kun!"

She did manage to tear away from him, but she wasn't fast enough to get away from him. He reached for her, grabbing her upper arm even as her hand snapped around his wrist. Her elbow dropped, her hips twisted, and she wrenched his wrist down and around. His face contorted in pain and she saw those muscles stiffen and freeze, as if she had zapped him with electricity –

And she lost her grip as she narrowly dodged the swing from his free hand.

She took a step back. "You don't hit girls."

"I don't," he agreed. "But those guys ain't human so if you're siding with them, you ain't a fucking lady either."

And he charged.

On another, better day, she could have bore it. She could have defeated him. But with her ankle the way it was, she couldn't get her footing. Owada's shoulder rammed into her chest, ripping off her feet. The water exploded around her as she fell, painting her with the muddy slurry.

"Where's the scripture?!"

"What do you expect to do with it?" Kirigiri said, struggling to free a boot that had caught in the muck. "If your theory is right, then if you read it, you'll end up like him."

"Shut up!"

His weight slammed into her, driving her further into the mud as he straddled her waist. His hunched form blocked out the sky, though she still saw stars as his hands wrapped around her throat and squeezed. With every moment of struggle, she sunk further and further into the mud, like a corpse being lowered into the ground.

Suddenly, their foreheads smashed together as Owada lost his balance and fell forward. He lay there, stunned. He regained himself slowly, rising as he did, their eyes locking as they both panted for breath –

He lurched forward again. But before their skulls collided this time, he slid backward somehow. Not a little, but enough to tear him off Kirigiri completely. She renewed her efforts to get up, fighting both her own weakness and the mud sucking at her body.

She didn't see Owada right away. On her knees, she looked around. Where. . .?

No wonder she hadn't seen him. Owada's brown hair wasn't normally as brown as mud, but it certainly was when it was covered in the damn stuff. He was mere feet away, submerged up to his chest in the swamp, struggling to find a foothold so he could climb to safer ground.

"Get me out of here!"

He reached for her. Part of her wanted to leave him there for her own protection, but the sight of the water lapping at his chin was disturbingly familiar. She grabbed a stick – she didn't trust him enough to offer a hand. He grabbed the end when she offered it to him. She dug in her heels as he pulled, but the swamp's grasp was strong and wasn't letting go. Owada stopped suddenly and Kirigiri saw his eyes widen in utter terror –

There was a massive pull in the wrong direction. Her wet gloves couldn't maintain the friction; the stick slipped out between her fingers as Owada's mouth opened in a silent scream. Then he was below the water, only his hand breaching the surface before that, too, disappeared.

"Owada-kun?" She limped over to the edge of the pool he had disappeared in, expecting him to surface. But he did not. The water was still; not a ripple or a bubble disturbed its glassy surface.

She thrust her arm into the water, reaching, groping, prepared to spring shut around any hint of hair or fabric. But the only thing she caught were slimy weeds again and again and again. What she had witnessed, that hadn't been right. It had been. . . it was . . .

A large bubble broke the surface and popped. More followed – an entire cloud of them. Something was coming, and she already knew what she would see.

Owada's limp body rolled back up to the surface. She pressed her fingers against his pulse point.

Nothing.

She . . . He had . . . She needed to get him back to the church so she could alert someone to call for help, then begin CPR. If she could get his blood flowing and get air into his lungs, he may be okay.

More bubbles rose from underneath. Then, he slipped away again, plunging downward with a splash that hit her in the face. This time, he didn't resurface.

She didn't reach after him. She didn't dare stick her hand under the surface again. To disappear like that meant something was here with her. She grabbed a large stick, used that to leverage herself to her feet. Stay too long, and she may end up being its next victim.

Her clothes dripped thick globs onto mud onto the church doors. She didn't walk inside so much as she fell inside, exhaustion from her foray into the woods finally reaching her. She leaned against a wall, panting, the cold of the water seeping into her weary bones.

"Kirigiri-san, are you okay?" Shinguji asked, approaching her slowly.

She ignored him and pushed off the wall, aiming for the nearest washroom.

"Don't strain yourself," Shinguji said. "Humans are quite fragile beings."

She ignored him again. Yonaga crawled out of whatever hidey-hole she had been in and murmured to Shinguji. Shinguji lay a comforting hand on the small woman's shoulder, and the two of them watched Kirigiri stumble away together.

"Wow, you had a number done on you," Enoshima said. She was lounging just outside the washroom, as if knowing Kirigiri would come there. "Even Mukuro's okay with mucking around in the swamp, but it doesn't work with suit you at all."

Kirigiri ignored her and walked inside.

Brown, muddy water ran through her fingers and into the drain, nearly clogging it. Once her hands were presentable, she grabbed her phone. Water had gotten in her purse, but her cellphone still turned on. She immediately called Togami and . . . he didn't answer. That bastard! She tossed the phone at the wall in frustration before belatedly picking it up. Part of her was whispering that she should just let this be; that it wouldn't matter if she told anyone about Owada or not.

Someone knocked on the door. "Kirigiri-san? I wanted to check whether you were okay."

"I'm fine," she bit out at Komaeda.

"If you say so. Remember: you don't need to lie to me. I have only your best interests at heart. Kamukura-kun and Naegi-kun are here, by the way."

Why didn't he say so earlier? She was about to exit when she saw herself in the mirror. Had she lost weight? Mud had caked under her cheekbones. There were similar stains within the folds of her clothes, along her collarbone and tangled with her hair. Naegi was going to throw a fit.

She braced herself and stepped outside.

Sure enough, once he saw her, Naegi teleported to her side. He was so upset that he couldn't speak; his hands flapped uselessly as he struggled between an instinct to touch her and make sure she was safe, and the instinct to not touch her and avoid aggravating any injuries. She made the decision for him: grabbing him and holding him close. He didn't say a word about the mud.

"What happened?" he said.

". . . Owada-kun," she choked out.

"Owada-kun? What was he doing here? Did he attack you?"

She nodded.

"What did he want?" Kamukura asked.

"This has nothing to do with you," she said. Naegi made shooing gestures at the other man.

"Kyoko?" Naegi prompted.

"He wanted the scripture. When I refused to give it to him, he tried to take it by force. Something in the swamp pulled him underwater."

"He . . . Is he okay?"

She exhaled. "He's dead."

Naegi stiffened. He forced himself to breathe, and his breath rattled.

"He attacked you because he wanted a scripture?" Kamukura repeated.

"What did I say before?" Kirigiri said.

Kamukura took a step back. "Sorry, we're just trying to figure out what happened here."

"We need to tell Togami-kun," Naegi said. "He'll organize a search party and figure out what happened."

He could try, but Kirigiri knew it would be hopeless. They would find nothing.