Part XVI: Afraid
"T-there's nowhere for me to go… Anymore…" Chapped lips were left ajar, as if hanging on a last thread. The tone itself could have been misplaced for an unconcerned breeze, still Tohru could not let go of those fragile words. They kept spinning inside his head.
The shouts and grunts, echoing all around Yamairi, signified an upcoming end, whereas Ritsuko's drained voice gave a scent of calmness, hope for the better, even if that better was short-lived.
They sat motionless inside the shed. Tohru listened, to how a rumbling of an engine gradually cleared, peeling away from all the unnecessary noise. A shiver ran down the male's spine. Careless to that, Ritsuko muttered, leaning her head on Tohru's shoulder.
"Morning will come soon."
"You think we could run away before then?" He bit on his lower lip straight after. Ritsuko shook her head. Tohru felt his shoulders relax at that response, though he wasn't aware, that he had been tense. Why did he have a need to ask in the first place? He knew the answer beforehand. Still, the blonde could not keep the irrational phrase a bay.
"I'm afraid…"
"There's… nothing to fear…. We should rest, Tohru-kun."
"Uhm…"
He felt the grip on his hand tighten for a short moment, it was probably as far as Ritsuko's fading strength allowed. He saw, how her eyelids fell shut, leaving the horrid blemishes to stare out instead. None of them knew, what awaited after, nevertheless Ritsuko all so easily reserved herself to fate. He couldn't… He had too much left unsaid, undone…
Even if Tohru already breached that barrier, death remained frightening.
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Part XVII: Younger brother
You hate me, don't you, brother of mine?
That guilt will stay rooted along with my crime,
You'll haunt me in both appearance and psyche.
Torment - you used to view as unsightly…
However all changed because of my lie,
I'm a sinner, a flaw in front of your eye.
You're a ghost, shiki - a disease, I created,
I fear, I ripped your mind, thus you won't be satiated…
And for decades we drown in this ludicrous grief,
Perhaps my dying day will bring you relief.
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Part XVIII: A dream
She found herself standing on the thin gravel road. It slithered upwards the mountain. Invasive weeds, nestled near the crooked firs, tickled her long dress according to the chill's orders. The colder air came timidly, as if somebody beckoned it here with sweet promises. Itou Ikumi thought this sudden change of weather to be odd. After all, the sky was cloudless and the afternoon sun sat high above, tentatively following her journey to Yamairi.
She trekked forward, her mood disheveled accordingly with the ruffled weeds and swaying branches. She braced herself, even though this action was purely whimsical and held no difference to the chill, seeping in below her old, faded dress…
The tips of the darkish, wooden houses cleared soon after. Ikumi could see their mossy, hunched outlines, huddling next to each other, perhaps trying to catch warmth and gain guidance for the upcoming Winter months. Those old beings were on the verge of crumbling. Obviously, not all of them were in such dire condition. The ones that did, perfectly resembled the apathy and carelessness of its residents. Ikumi's fingers unknowingly entwined together, halting the miniature waves made to the dress.
She felt the need to appreciate it, this view, this weakness, afraid to touch any, unless the constructions and the villagers' precious belongings would dissolve and fly away like an irked feather, caught by the reckless wind…
There was peace here nonetheless…
Even when the high-pitched sough intensified and hideous creaks emerged like wails of deceased from the pits of the sheltered windows.
Disrupted…
Fear rose her trachea…
Black clouds overtook a side of the sky, looming over Yamairi. They were spreading like a plague and Ikumi stood witness to it all, afraid to confirm the insanity before her. The grimy sky mocked the woman for that treasured ignorance.
The clouds remained as the final thing, Ikumi saw before waking up. Even if she was surrounded by the calm rustling outside and the symphony of the early birds, her heart struck like a hammer in fright and she took a trembling inhale. The dream's revelation circulated in her head.
Yamairi was doomed.
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Part XIX: Hair
"Kaori!" Akira's voice echoed from the next room over. Mechanically, her fingers pulled the ribbon away from her hair – no use. Soon after the bedroom's door was pushed open, behind it Akira stood with a puffed-out chest and a readied argument, no doubt. Alas Kaori whirled around quicker than his words could fly out.
"Uhm, could you learn, how to knock."
"You'd just pray me out, if I'd did." Akira answered, crossing his arms, carelessly. "I chose a quicker way… Come on we have to go!"
"Can't you see, I can't?"
"What's that about?" Akira blinked and Kaori faintly motioned at her messed-up hair. "Bed hair, huh?" A smirk. "Then go without the ribbons, no one's gonna mind there."
Kaori's eye twitched at that response and she turned away with a mumble.
"Easy for you to say, Akira…"
"Nah, I'm serious. Just go with your hair loose. I don't want to miss out Kagura just because of your stubbornness."
"I'm not stubborn…"
"Yeah, if only you'd see yourself in the mirror."
"Don't remind me…" Kaori's shoulders sulked and she grabbed her brush off her desk. Akira waved his hands in the air.
"Hey, I did not mean it in a bad way. You can braid your hair on the way."
"Are you kidding me?!"
"Why's that such a bad thing?" Akira grumbled, before something struck him. "I'd understand, if you want to impress someone, but still…"
A flash of red traveled to color her cheeks.
"That's it!" Kaori stood up suddenly, marching towards her brother. He yelped as she pushed him out of the room, "Get out!" A pair of clenched dark ribbons swayed by her shins.
"What?! Really?! What's gotten into you?" Akira's flustered response could be heard, muffled from the closed shouji. Kaori was actually wondering the same thing with her hands resting on the wooden surface. Akira added after a moment. "Kaori, I'm sorry, okay? You'll catch up, right?.." Quiet… Shuffling was notable on the other end and then something she honestly did not wish to hear. "Uhm. Now that I think about it, why did you have Megumi's ribbons?"
Kaori inhaled stiffly, before her feet shakily moved away from the shouji. A bright flush was on her cheeks. If only she had the strength to answer that as well… Tonight was not the night for such thoughts however… This was for her…
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Part XX: Letters
As the days towards Obon approached, the Muroi family became overcrowded with preparations. This happened every single year in Sotoba… There was very little peace during these weeks. That day Muroi Miwako excused herself from the parishioners, who were gathered in the front of the temple, and went back to the house. It was cooler indoors, the tiny gusts of wind penetrated the abode, whilst the sun was partially out of reach. Regardless, her invasive beams like greedy nails scratched at the floorings, bright walls and shoujis. Miwako stopped in a room, that neither member of this family dared to name. This small, secluded entity had no windows and no doors, connecting to the outside world. It basked in the shadows and hid a myriad of shelves, senile books from generations untold. A few boxes were dropped in a corner as well.
She kneeled in front of one. Her finger gingerly opened it, pulled out a stack of yellowed letters, bound together with a thread. Even if the ink was fading, the words: 'dear daughter' stood visible, despite these years. Miwako involuntarily bit on her bottom lip, when the long nestled pain threatened to open up and burn her eyes, constrict the throat like all those years ago, when her mother had died… That unfortunate Spring… So many years from now… She had not seen her hometown ever since then. The memories were too painful - no, not the case - It would be wiser to say, she had no time... As the wife of the head priest she had a myriad of duties to uphold, preparations to Bon for instance, where they will pray for the ancestors of Sotoba's temple. Again… She had no time. This belated mourning should be unbefitting…
"Miwako-san!" Mitsuo's voice echoed. Miwako straightened. Her eyes landed on the first line of the letter: 'how are you?'
"I'm fine, mom…" A whisper and a soft, yet melancholic smile graced her lips. She ran a thumb through her only memento, before returning the letters to the box.
Even if it stang deep inside, she could not cling and cry to her mother anymore. Miwako had grown up. She had to play her part, for Sotoba, for Shinmei…
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Part XXI: I'm sorry
'I'm sorry…'
How many times had Tohru uttered that phrase? Shouldn't it be getting redundant by now?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…
There was no meaning to it anymore. That was a wasted breath, a mumble for the nocturnal wind to decipher. Yet Tohru's teeth clicked together deliriously without end: crying and praying, cursing and regretting…
He could see an innocent face, staring down from the window. A child peered at him curiously with half-lidded eyes. Her hands were clammy, set against the glass, while fallen-in cheeks outlined the girl's tiny face… Apparently, she was waiting. The girl had no idea, why was she in so much pain, why was her body so cold, so feverish, why were her bones aching and burning, seemingly wishing to tear away from her in revolt. Why was her ribcage strangulated, threatening to claw out of her skin?.. Was she hoping, that clinging to an assailant could bring answers?.. A part of Tohru wished he could tell her to run. Run as fast as she could… But that was only for an instant, a demented instant, he could have easily dreamed up.
He was starved.
Tatsumi made sure of that fact…
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Part XXII: Far
There was an unmistakable breeze heading into the clinic ward, a chill, if she could add. Soon enough that gust was replaced with smoke. That loathsome entity began to cloud her vision, twirled around her, like one of those drunks, frequenting Ohkawa's liquor store. It had become overwhelming and that caused a scurry on Setsuko's back. There was no clearance. None. The blurry twin lights might have been the only way for guidance, however they mocked her from a distance. She reached out, but to no avail – too far, it had remained unreachable… She needed to go there, her child was waiting far, far away. She wanted to grasp her hand, console, tell her everything will be okay in the end… This reassuring would have brought thw most relief to Setsuko. The old woman knew that… And in fact, she was no child. But things never changed, just like that heartwrenching sob.
"Don't catch me, when I fall."
"Good morning, Setsuko-san." Toshio's voice intermitted the older woman's drowse. "How are you feeling today?"
Setsuko tardily looked around herself from her laying position, yet to fully awaken. Pupils scoured every ivory corner, meticulously. Toshio cocked an eyebrow. The woman turned to him, her eyes widened and scared, then a frail hand went up and clutched at her own chest, perhaps desperately.
"Uhm… Doctor, I… I could have sworn, I heard Nao-san..."
There was a deep inhale on Toshio's end, but other than that he stood rigid. His lips gently curved upwards, whilst Setsuko pinched hers in despair and humiliation.
"Please get some rest." - was his order and Setsuko closed her eyes, rolling her tongue between the very few teeth she had left - they served as proof in a sense… She did not have much time either way… What she worried about was her family and of course poor Nao-san…
Ah… There it came again: the tunnel, blinding smoke, and that wailing voice, plaguing Setsuko with guilt…
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Part XXIII: Predictions
Tatsumi parted the door and his lips pursed in defeat at the sight. Sunako was already asleep inside one of the windowless rooms of the mansion. Yoshie sat beside the luxurious double bed. It had green covers, laced with golden dyed spirals, they were currently tucked in by the jinrou. Tatsumi knit his brows.
"I see, I'm too late. I'll report later then."
"Sunako just managed to close her eyes." Yoshie answered without looking up from her tedious task.
"Well, it's about time."
"Haa…" So she did not catch his mocking tone, good. "Still, when you think Chizuru's really dead…" Yoshie exhaled, whilst her fingers clutched the silken cover. "I just hope, there won't be anymore sacrifices… I want her to be happy… Finally..."
Sacrifices…
Tatsumi reached for the doorknob. This was enough. he deemed.
"I'll be going now."
"Sure." Yoshie gave an absent-minded nod. Tatsumi disappeared in the corridor. A sly smirk errupted, as he walked away… How humorous! He wished some ungodly fate could open their eyes someday… How foolish all of them were, how egoistical, blind. For a long time now Tatsumi knew, that this war had been meaningless. Neither humans nor the shiki were justifiable in these primal acts. And with a held breath he waited until Sunako would break down with 'you were right.' Both sides were fighting an eye for an eye and Tatsumi found that marvelous. Chaos would be a blessed spectacle.
But in the end, who was he to make predictions…
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Part XXIV: When?
"When can I die?
A question, never listened even once… And so out of curiosity Seishin opened the flesh by himself… Yet such foolishness left him empty all the same. He was still alive and the murkiness, ugliness kept running…
When can I be free?
Something Kaori asked inside her head repeatedly, but not for herself as much as her friend, whose body was about to be lowered. The brown-haired girl shuffled around a single pebble, while mutters contaminated the mountainous firs. Kaori wished to run away, but she stayed with reddened eyes and a clammed nose. There was a dry sound, once, twice… A chorus bloomed. They clapped, when she died... Dear Megumi… Maybe now they will forgive you…
When will I know?"
He wished not to talk. No excuses curled under Tohru's tongue. He was such a child inside and now this immaturity trapped him. He felt, as if he was washed ashore, then pinned with a rotten stake, so his body could not escape. So he could rot and repent for these sins, for his ignorance… Clearly, what a clueless child…