She was burning.
"…does it hurt?"
The hand on her forehead was cool and comforting. She instinctively tried to get closer, but pain shot through her burning, lead-filled limbs. A small hiss escaped.
"You don't have to put on a brave face, you know." Rika sighed, tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "…you don't have to do this either."
She sucked in a shaky breath.
"I'm… fine." The shape of the words felt strange on her tongue. Her head was so muddled by pain she couldn't tell whether she was saying what she was thinking. "This is… I have to… ah."
"Shh." Rika put a finger on her lips. The sleeve of her miko dress brushed lightly on her face. "It's okay."
But it's not okay. She tried to speak, tried to tell Rika this was necessary, but as soon as she moved, another groan broke through.
"Hang on."
Rika, biting her lower lip, turned to the side where the sedative sat on the tray.
Satoko knew what she was going to do. She tried to stop her, but her arm would only go as far as Rika's knee. This got Rika's attention, but her mind was blank with pain.
Rika understood her anyway. She turned back to her without picking up the needle, and interlaced their fingers.
"…why do you have to be so stubborn?"
"Do you… hate me?"
A shadow came over her face. It was good enough for an answer.
"That's… good."
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Her entire body ached, but to her, physical pain was familiar the same way a bedtime story was. The irregularity in this picture was the soft hand and the tenderness.
She wished the world could stop at that moment.
"…Satoko?"
Rika's voice was small and tense. She opened her eyes and continued breathing. Let the clock tick. Every death brought her closer to redemption. At least she prayed it would.
She gathered herself enough to speak.
"Do it."
The request seemed to stun Rika. Satoko felt her let go, and it pained her more than the gush in her midriff. Her broken body tried to follow without success. Instead, another small wheeze escaped.
Rika noticed. She moved a little closer to wipe away the newly formed layer of sweat. Her hand seemed to quiver slightly.
Satoko wondered why she seemed desperate to make her feel comfortable. That's not what this was about.
Perhaps sensing her efforts were futile, Rika sunk back. Her expression was difficult to read, mostly because there were too many emotions.
"I don't want to." Her words trickled down to the floor. "I don't… I can't…"
Satoko felt the familiar pair of arms wrapping around her shoulders, gently lifting her off the floor. Now there could be no mistake, Rika was trembling. But why?
"What's the point of all this?" She demanded. "When will it stop?"
She was confused. When will what stop?
"Last time I had to watch you- you let them-"
Rika's arms tightened around her. She was too surprised and confused to be bothered by her open wound.
"What are you…?"
"Why did you go back?" Rika squeezed her accusingly. "You knew what the villagers would do. Why?"
Oh. Now she knew what Rika was talking about. The last death. It was one of the more bizarre worlds.
Something had caused the entire village to gradually descend into madness. She couldn't recall what exactly happened, but she remembered escaping with her friends from the secret passage in the Sonozaki dungeon.
She remembered waking up in the middle of the night and looking down from the mountain, to the village burning with flashlights and streetlamps. There was a small voice. You have to go back. It had said, stating a fact rather than making a suggestion. You have to stay.
She knew what it meant, and how idiotic it was given the situation. Still, the reason she was even there in the first place was the same as what the voice was saying. Nevermind she made that wish hundreds or thousands of loops ago. It changed nothing. She had to go back and accept the punishment before she could move on to the next one. She didn't know if they would ever end, but she had to try.
So she sneaked away from her sleeping friends and surrendered herself to one of the patrols.
The last memory she had of that loop was a scene straight from hell, which up to that point she had believed was just her dying hallucination. But maybe…
"You came back." She whispered, more of a statement to herself than a question to Rika.
"Of course we did!"
Only now did she realize Rika was sobbing. Her shoulder was drenched in her tears. It was like a reenactment of the hallucination, no, her previous death, minus the roar of the battle and the grief-stricken howls.
But how could Rika know about that? Wasn't Rika stuck in a parallel loop with her other self? Wait, no, she remembered being in the Sea of Fragment. Just the two of them. She remembered returning to the beginning, to the moment when she touched the horn. Life had gone as if nothing happened.
Well, life had gone on for everyone else, but the loops continued for Satoko at night, sometimes replays or revisions of the parallel loops she had been stuck in, sometimes completely new scenarios. Rika couldn't have known about them, which meant…
"This… this is a dream, isn't it?"
"…huh?"
Dream-Rika leaned back to look at her. Her face was messy with sorrow and confusion. Satoko couldn't help the small smile forming at the corner of her lips.
Poor, poor Rika. Luckily nobody would ever see her like this, crying like a baby.
"Guess I'm still selfish… even in my dream." Breathing had become a struggle. She was out of time. "Sorry, but I really… really am trying to… repent."
Dream-Rika stared at her, bewildered. Satoko could see her slowly processing what she said.
"…you think this is repentance?"
She was shaking like the lone leaf before winter.
"Sure. After all… ngh…" Sensations in these dreams always felt real and sharp. She dug into her palms to stop herself from crying out. "Watanagashi is the ceremony… to wash away the sins."
That must be why she conjured up Rika.
And it was poetic justice. She knew she had done this to Rika before. It was only fair that she was on the receiving end this time, even if this was only a dream.
Dream-Rika was frozen for a long time. She looked struck. Then, she laid Satoko back onto the floor and stood up, almost mechanically. She walked to the corner of the room, where the ceremonial hoe was leaned against the wall.
"If- if all the sins are gone," her sentence was interrupted by tiny sobs. "Will you- will you come back?"
She smiled. How very arrogant of her to conjure up a Rika who still cared.
But let her have this. In this dream at least, let her believe that there was a chance she could return to their sides.
Dream-Rika lifted the hoe. It looked oppressively heavy in her hands.
"Satoko… I…"
Weeping, the miko raised the staff of absolution.
"-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
She woke up gasping.
The phantom pain lingered on her stomach. Her hands trembled as they searched for an opening that didn't exist. Of course it wasn't there. It was just a…
A what? Nightmare?
The voice in her head sneered. She felt sick. She pressed her face into her palms, laughing at her own drenched shadow.
As if.
The clock by her bed gleamed blood red, stuck between too early and too late. There would be no more sleep tonight. No more tortue or rest. She stood with shaking knees, trying to calm her dead heart.
The late autumn chill crept past the defense of the old walls, clinging to her nightwear and seeping into her bones. She dragged herself into the shower, shivering while the sputtering shower slowly worked its way to lukewarm, then scorching heat. She stood into it before stripping down, praying it would wash off some of the blood on her head.
The vision was already beginning to fade. It was hard to tell sometimes which side was real. What felt like absolution in her dream only made her feel more dirty after she woke up, but she didn't want it to stop.
Her body went on autopilot while her mind struggled to keep afloat. The next time she became aware, she was standing in front of her apartment window, her alarm clock blaring cruelly. She closed the window before turning away to grab her keys and wallet.
The trip to work was by no means short, but she wasn't in any rush. Shadows and yesterday's newspaper flitted past her on the predawn street, playing hide-and-seek. She looked past them, pretending to think about what the day ahead had to offer.
Tackle a moving truck. Wipe her neck with the kitchen knife. Taste some lead and powder.
Oh, she must have confused it with the program at night.
She was still musing at her inside joke when she arrived at work. Nobody looked at her or tried to strike up a conversation. Most of her fellow staff were courteous and distant, which suited her just fine. The students, who were mostly older and stronger than she was, looked down on her. They considered her trap training as dirty tricks, something below their status as elite soldiers. Funny how half of them failed more than three times.
She knew what they said about her. About how she sold her body to get the job, about how she was wrong in the head, or how they would "show her".
It would have been easy to hurt them. Take out limbs, organs, even lives. Accidents happen. They all signed the waiver.
Except, she couldn't be selfish. Irie put his reputation on the line to give her this chance of a life. She owed it to him to keep on the down low. Besides, who cared what anyone thought of her? The only ones whose opinions mattered…
"Yo, Houjo! You look as shitty as yesterday."
"…good morning, Amakusa." She gave a brief nod to her boisterous colleague. "Aren't you late for training?"
"Cancelled last minute." Amakusa shrugged with exaggerated disappointment. "I could have slept til noon."
"Mm." She opened her locker. It was empty aside from her uniforms. She took one pair out. "Great way to finally get fired."
"Heh. Thought you'd say that."
As usual, Amakusa started rambling. Meaningless stuff like supermarket sales and rumors about the budget cut in the coming months. She never really paid attention and Amakusa wasn't looking for a conversation anyway. Their dynamic was similar to a loveless affair, except there was nothing physical, emotional, or sexual about it. Satoko could have been replaced by a mirror and Amakusa could have been replaced by air, and nothing would have changed.
Normally, once he was done ranting, Amakusa would bounce off somewhere else, leaving Satoko to her thoughts.
But today, when she closed the locker door, he was still there. Smirking.
She blinked.
"Sorry. Budget's tight this month."
She was telling the truth. Despite working at a training facility for soldiers and mercenaries, she could barely pay her bills. Besides, with winter fast approaching, she had to prepare her apartment as well as the Houjo house.
"What kind of loser do you take me for?" Amakusa feigned being wounded for a moment, before he started smirking again. "No, no. My dear friend. It's not about me."
She didn't like the implication of that.
"What?"
"What else? You've got an admirer outside!"
Of course. Her heart sank into her stomach.
Who was it this time? Keiichi? Rena? Mion? Or maybe Shion?
"You know the rules." She was trying very hard not to let her heart leap out of her throat. "No visitors. We don't exist, as far as the public is concerned."
"Pffft. It's the school that doesn't exist. Not me." He gave a lazy wave. "Anyway. You sure you don't want to meet your cute friend?"
She gave him a humorless look.
"Fine, fine." He sighed and turned, mumbling just loud enough to be obnoxious. "What a waste. I wish I was this popular…"
She could feel a headache developing.
The thought of her former friends inevitably reminded her of her sins. Guilt's long, wrinkly tendrils crawled across her skin. Her left hand grabbed onto her neck subconsciously.
They should forget her. Should have abandoned her. But they didn't understand. Of course not. Maybe someone suspected something, but they would have chucked it up to dreams anyway. Their trust was a scar she would carry for the rest of her life.
The small sting on her throat pulled her back to the present. Her left hand froze, fingers curled in an ugly claw. Her right hand shot up to pull it away by the wristband.
Not here. Not like this.
Amakusa returned just after she pulled herself together. She positioned her body so he wouldn't see the scratch mark. He was laughing to himself.
"Houjo, I think you messed up."
She knew that.
"Shut up and give me the note."
"Ha. Sorry to tell you. There's nothing today." He turned his palms front and back like a magician trying to convince the audience there was no trickery involved. "Told ya. You messed up. Big time."
It was a struggle to maintain the neutral expression. Harder than she would have thought.
"Then we're done here."
It's equally possible the hollowness in her chest came from relief or sorrow. She didn't allow herself to dwell on it. Chin up, eyes forward.
Amakusa was still making a nuisance of himself, loudly complaining about how cruel it was that the cute girl denied him her number. She tried to distract herself with something, anything, but her thoughts still drifted to the past. To the happiness that was farther than the moon.
This is for the best. She reminded herself. Like uncle said, just pass the days, and die in a way that won't inconvenience anybody else.
The locker door clicked shut.
Ri-ri-ring-
It was about a month after she moved into the apartment when the phone calls started. Everyone called - well, almost everyone - and they were all trying to piece together what happened.
With each passing day, the answers became more exasperated, the rings got sharper and louder, and the receiver grew heavier. Towards the end of week one, she would simply stare at the phone while trying to crush her ears, praying either would just spontaneously explode already.
No luck on either front, and she would drag herself away from the corner to answer.
By the third month, she had mastered the art of not breaking down after the call
By the half year mark, she was able to pick up the receiver without trembling too horribly.
"'ello? Satoko-chan?"
"Hello, Mion-san. It's been a while."
"Haha. It's definitely been a while, hasn't it?" A pause. "Well, are you free this weekend? I'm planning for a get-together."
The same question had been repeated to her for the past two months. It appeared it's Mion's turn.
"I am sorry." She lied effortlessly. "Work is busy."
"Ah. What about next weekend?"
"I am sorry."
"…oh."
She felt like a broken record.
"I am really sorry."
There was an audible sigh on the other end. Then Mion, trying to mask her worries and failing.
"Aren't you working a bit too hard?"
"It cannot be helped."
"Well… if you say so." Another pause. "Are you sure- are you sure you don't want to go back to school?"
"Mm."
"I mean, I asked around. Withdrawing from St. Lucia really isn't that big of a deal. Shion said so too!"
The train was picking up speed, desperately holding on to the momentum.
"Besides, it's just a one-year difference. I'm sure most of the schools won't mind. Worst comes worst, we can figure something out. And we'll all be there if you ever need any help-"
Mion stopped abruptly.
Satoko listened, counting her own breathings. Several seconds passed before she found her voice.
"I really appreciate you putting in so much effort, and I am very sorry for having worried you. But it's okay. Really."
Mion stayed silent for a bit longer, as if trying to decide what to say next.
"…Satoko-chan."
"Mm."
"Won't you call Rika-chan?"
The cheap plastic of the receiver gave a small crack. She swallowed her heart back.
"…would you excuse me? I think I heard the doorbell."
"Huh? Oh… well, next time then? We will be waiting!"
"…thank you, and goodbye."
She stood up and went into the bathroom.
Maybe if she had hung up a little slower, a little calmer, everything would have been different.
The house was dying.
Even after months of cleaning and repair, as well as subsequent monthly maintenance, there was no denying the fact - the house was dying.
What did it matter if she had wiped away the layers of dust? What did it matter if she carefully replaced each missing and cracked tile? Whenever it rained, the house still smelled of rust - or maybe it was blood.
Only faded memories lived here now, and they too were dying. She could barely hear the echoes of her dead mother's sobs or the angry accusations of her aunt. The gentle smile of her brother had long faded, and even the tearful promises from her reformed uncle had withered away.
The house was cursed. Everything and everyone was either dead or dying. There was no escape. She had been waiting for her turn.
Ding-
She looked up to the clock.
It was still an hour before her appointment with the village carpenter. That's strange. Did he arrive early?
Ding-ding-
"One moment, please." She called out as she put the bucket and rag aside. Her knees were a little wobbly from kneeling too long.
The house may be dying, but she couldn't watch it happen without trying something.
At the very least, if it were to crumble like her other home - her real home - did a few winters ago, she would very much like to be here when it happens. It would be a fitting end, letting the snow bury a house that wasn't lived in and a person who wasn't living.
Of course, that was just a nice thought. The village carpenter took his job very seriously. Besides, it's not like she was actively trying to die…
She was almost by the door now. The late autumn sun cast the vague outline of her visitor on the thin screen. A light breeze picked up, and like actors on the stage, the shadows of branches and leaves danced and jumped in anticipation.
She opened the door.
"…long time no see, Satoko."
Standing in the sun, a hand delicately tucking long, flowing locks behind her ears, stood Rika.
Worlds without Rika were rare, and extremely painful to live in.
The first time she looped to such a reality, she lasted less than a week.
Being the last surviving member of the village enemy, of course there was not a single soul in Hinamizawa who would come and help her.
And because Rika didn't exist, neither Takano nor Irie ever came to Hinamizawa.
How did I survive til now?
She had wondered countless times in that loop. And when finally, she was too weak and hungry to even lift a finger, it dawned upon her.
Because my life was borrowed.
Twice. Three times. Ten. Fifty.
A month. A day. There was even one time when she lasted until the Watanagashi Festival. That was probably, physically, the most unpleasant experience.
All her friends were the worst versions of themselves. The villagers were keeping her alive for a specific purpose. She had suspected as much, but it wasn't confirmed until she was laid out on the altar with the entire village watching, waiting with bated breath.
It didn't matter there was no miko. The villagers had their way to perform the ritual.
It hurt about the same as when Shion tortured her to death. She didn't make a noise that time either.
The only other Rika-less loop that could have measured up to that experience was different in nearly all respects. It was a peaceful world. Sure, the villagers still ignored her, and her brother still disappeared, but overall, there was nothing too horrible about it.
The reason she went to Furude Shrine that day was to break into the Saiguden and steal Onigari-no-Ryuo. She figured it was as good a time as any to end the loops. She had forgotten when was the last loop she saw Rika, and thus concluded the force-that-be was hinting at something.
But instead of successfully sneaking into Saiguden, she bumped into Rika's parents. The kind Mr. and Mrs. Furude invited her in for dinner.
She should have declined and tried again another night, but the temptation to be just a little closer to Rika was too strong. She wanted to know what Rika's past was like, even if she was never born in that world.
It was the happiest she had felt in a long while. The food was warm and delicious. Calm words flowed quietly around the table. For a moment, she almost forgot about the Saiguden. Forgot about Onigari-no-Ryuo.
Then, everything changed.
"Satoko-chan." Mrs. Furude began, bright-eyed and nervous. "Would you… would you like to move in with us?"
Satoko froze.
"Oh! I don't mean for you to abandon your home." Mrs. Furude added quickly. "But, see, I was thinking… as you know, I can't carry children, and… well, this house really is too big for two people."
Mr. Furude put his larger hand over his wife, smiling reassuringly at both of them.
"What we mean is, maybe you can come visit us more often. We will both be very happy and grateful."
Honestly, it was not a bad idea. If she just kept her mouth shut and nodded, things could work out great for all of them. She would have a home, and they would have a child.
The thought horrified her.
She stuttered out various renditions of "I need time", which fell through the cracks of apologetic smiles. The remainder of the dinner was seasoned with awkward attempts of conversation. Her thanks for their kindness tasted like counterfeit work of art. She ran without leaving the ground.
The question kept repeating itself in her head, until the voice changed from a woman to that of a girl. The two voices overlapped, separated, grew into a thousand more, and splattered all around her. She dug at her eyes, trying to get the smile away. Trying to protect it. It was useless. The image was branded into her head. She had desecrated it.
Rika wasn't here.
It was her fault.
And oh god for a moment she had forgotten.
It was her fault Rika wasn't here.
She was wrong. The punishment didn't end. Couldn't. Rika wasn't here and it was her fault.
her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault her fault-
She threw herself into the swamp that night.
It would be a long while before she saw Onigari-no-Ryuo.
"…here."
"Thank you."
Her hand was trembling so terribly she nearly dropped the teacup when she tried to set it down. The blue-haired girl simply smiled.
Opposite to the twitching Satoko, Rika's demeanor was the very definition of calm. She raised her cup, paused to absorb the scent of the old tealeaf, and took a polite sip. She acted so natural it was as if she was merely enjoying a regular tea party.
…which was probably what this was, to Rika. A cheap imitation of the St. Lucia tea parties.
She scolded herself for not figuring it out quicker.
Stop hoping for things you have no right to.
The painful beating in her chest relented. She circled to the other side and sat down with her own cup.
"It's so clean." Rika observed, and despite her turning head, Satoko had the distinct feeling she was being watched. "Have you been living here?"
The question puzzled her.
"No. Just visiting."
"That so?"
Satoko thought it was a rhetorical question at first, but Rika didn't continue. Instead, she turned fully towards her, eyes bright and demanding. Satoko looked down, nodding quietly.
Whatever it was Rika was looking for, that seemed enough. She proceeded.
"So where are you living now?"
Her mind wandered to the phone. The cracked receiver. The sigh of disappointment. The corner she kept returning to. Something began to boil in her stomach.
"Elsewhere. I rented an apartment."
"Where exactly? Okinomiya? Some other city?"
Something invisible crawled across her skin. It multiplied up to her spine and spread to her arms, her elbows, her wrists. She grabbed onto the wristband, trying not to suffocate.
Rika waited, watching.
The kitchen tap kept time for their silence. Outside, some villagers were stopping to chat. Their words bounced helplessly off the walls and windows. From deep within the house rose faint sobs and angry accusations and the sound of baseball bat hitting something wet and soft. Rika didn't seem to notice.
She lowered her head further and held on to her teacup for dear life. It was burning her palm, burning away precious oxygen. She could feel Rika's gaze, sharp like ten thousand redhot needles.
Ding-
She almost broke her neck stumbling to answer the door.
Outside, the cheerful smile of the village carpenter greeted her.
As far as people were concerned, Satoko kept Satoshi's room in good condition so he may one day return to something familiar. As far as people were concerned, Satoko was still waiting for Satoshi's return. Therefore, as far as people were concerned, Satoko was a good sister.
And Satoko would inform them, regretfully, that their conclusion was wrong.
If anyone asked, she would be the first to admit her obsession with preserving her brother's room had morphed into something else over time. She cleaned Satoshi's room almost ritualistically now, because it was one of the few things that kept her guilt from taking over, and she was ashamed of herself for it.
Nobody would ask, though, because nobody remembered, or at least wanted to talk about, the source of her guilt. In fact, aside from Irie, there was virtually nobody she talked to for more than five minutes. She couldn't bear it.
So it was, at least she imagined, somewhat of a shock when she declined to visit Satoshi when he woke up, approximately two months ago.
"It's alright, Satoko-chan." Irie, completely misunderstanding her silence, had tried to comfort her over the phone. "I know you have a lot on your mind. There is no need to rush. Take your time, and I mean both you and Satoshi-kun."
"Did Nee- I mean, has Shion-san got the chance to…?"
"She is on her way as we speak." Irie chuckled. "Would you like her to wait? I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
"No. Please, don't."
She couldn't possibly do that to Shion.
The next time Irie called, he gave a thorough report of Satoshi's rehabilitation progress and described the reunion.
Satoko drank up every detail. The scene played out in her mind, like a beloved bedtime story. She could see every teardrop, every soft touch, every small piece of joy. She didn't realize she was smiling until Irie interrupted his retelling.
"Oh, that reminds me."
And just like that, the peacefulness was gone. She froze up, dizzy from the sudden rush of reality.
"Shion-san said hi." His voice was soft, tinged with confusion that had gone stale. "She really missed you, Satoko-chan."
It was not the first time he relayed similar messages for one of her former friends, but this time it caught her off guard. The truth bubbled up from her, burning like acid in her throat.
Irie didn't know. He was the only person she never sinned against. The only person she could still face without overwhelming shame and guilt. She didn't know what she would do if Irie turned his back to her. That's why she never mentioned a word, even during her stay at the clinic.
Was it selfish? Of course. Was it cowardly? There was no doubt about that. Even after thousands of loops, she was still afraid she would end up alone.
She said a quiet thank you and hung up.
Most people never realized this, but Rika could be shrewd if she wanted to.
"Ah. Rika-sama, had I known you'd be returning, I'd have brought some pickled vegetables over." Said the village carpenter, a broad-shouldered man in his fifties.
His smile was bright enough to compete with the afternoon sun, which was now streaming through the open door. Without any context, one would have thought this was a man trying to extend his time with his married-off daughter.
"Thank you. The thought itself was enough."
From her position, Satoko couldn't really see much, but she knew exactly what kind of smile was plastered on Rika's face. Proper, graceful, and charming.
"Rika-sama is being too formal." The man chuckled good-naturedly. "Did you get that from Satoko? She said the same thing to Akiyama-san last time."
Rika stiffened, almost imperceptibly.
"Nyahaha, Satoko is never good with this sort of stuff."
As if looking for confirmation, she glanced back at her. But Satoko knew better. The smile was flawless. The exact kind she had seen when they played poker back in the club days. Something was brewing beneath.
She shifted uncomfortably, mumbling something even she couldn't decipher.
The man chuckled again, oblivious.
"Well. I should go." He put on his hat and strolled outside, adding. "Satoko, call me up if you need anything else looked at or fixed."
Not wanting to appear ungrateful, she quickly bowed, masterfully avoiding Rika's pointed look in the process.
Almost immediately after the door was pulled close, Rika took a step towards her.
"You came back often?"
She ventured to look up. The flawless smile was gone, replaced by something between indignation and confusion. It was perplexing. Even without the mental fatigue from earlier on, she would not be able to deduce the correct answer. Hesitantly, she settled with a slow shrug.
Rika simply stared. Whether she wanted to say something, to confirm something, or to make Satoko squirm was anyone's guess.
Then, she blurted out: "I'm staying at Hinamizawa for a few days."
Satoko's skin began itching again. Her fingers twitched toward her wristband. Rika's eyes followed the motion. It reminded her of the rigid training school and she automatically snapped to attention, hands on her side, blinking at the ground.
Rika moved a little closer. The step was softer, more deliberate.
"…can I stay here?"
Satoko expected the request as soon as Rika announced her intention, but it did nothing to prepare her.
She knew the house they once shared was no longer an option, but why here? Maybe Rika didn't want to return to the empty Furude Shrine. She could understand that. Still, there was the Sonozaki house. As the current leader, Mion would surely be able to provide more than adequate accommodation for Rika.
Maybe Rika did ask and the answer was no. The Sonozaki could be meeting with politicians from out of town, in which case it would be inappropriate to have Rika as a guest. Satoko refrained from knowing this sort of thing out of habit, so she couldn't discount the possibility. Even so, there was a piece missing. Literally anyone in the village would welcome Rika into their home. There must be some other she chose here specifically.
Without meaning to, their gaze met.
Rika's eyes were calm, clearer than the river they used to play in. Satoko saw her reflection, ashamed, startled, hopeful.
So that was why.
"…as you wish."
She turned away so she didn't have to face the humiliation. This was retribution. How dare she forget. Her canine teeth dug into her lower lip, drawing blood.
Rika was quick to react. Two steps closer, and a quiet, rehearsed question: "Where are you going?"
"Finish cleaning."
"No." Rika took another step. They were close enough Satoko began to suspect Rika could hear the ringing in her ears. "Where are you going?"
What did it matter? She needed a place to stay, and now she got one. Was that not good enough? The house was a bit decrepit, sure, but the ghosts would only disturb the dying. Rika should have no problem with them. What more could Satoko possibly offer?
Her head was pounding. Her skin felt simultaneously hot and cold. There was nowhere to run. She couldn't think. Finally, she took the truth out of her pocket and laid it down.
"The bus station."
Rika said nothing for a while. Her silence shackled Satoko to the spot. Then, with measured serenity, she delivered the sentence.
"I didn't ask you to leave."
If Satoko didn't know better, she might have thought Rika wanted her to stay.
"I- uh, I didn't bring anything with me." Her voice softened in the usual way precluding an unrefusable request. Like the fly trap they used to make in summer, with an air of pleasant sweetness. "It would be a hassle to get them by myself… Won't you help?"
There was never any option. Now she really had to fight the urge to scratch.
She reminded herself what this was. Mistakes had consequences, but the rules never indicated they couldn't come from others. Rika, as both the victim and the victor of the competition, could do anything she wanted, and she would have no right to complain.
Carefully, she uncurled her fists and turned around.
"What do you need?"
Rika beamed, eyes twinkling with the familiar childish delight.
"Let's make dinner first. I'm starving."
Satoko was staring at the pot of boiling rice, imagining what it would feel like to reach in, when Rika peeked into the kitchen.
"Are you sure you don't want a hand?"
The unintentional joke was not lost on her, but it would be inconvenient to laugh, because then she would have to explain. She shook her head and gestured vaguely to the table.
There were only two plates. One contained lightly sauced cold tofu, and the other held mixed vegetables. Treating a guest with such a pitiful meal may be offensive, but with the time given, it really was the best she could do.
"Only the rice left." She informed her somewhat apologetically. "You can take a seat now."
Instead, Rika walked to the fridge and peered inside, exposing the near empty interior. A small sigh escaped.
"Please tell me your apartment is better stocked."
Satoko stared harder at the pot, pretending not to hear her over the quiet bubbling.
Rika let go of the door. It drifted quietly. She stood next to Satoko, voice light.
"We should get some groceries tomorrow. How long will you be staying?"
Too long already. She shrugged.
"Well." Rika breathed in, shoulder brushing against hers. "I want to look around. Will you come with me?"
She resisted the urge to look over.
"Now?"
"Tomorrow." It was said like a promise. "Although… the sun will be down soon."
That was strange. Shouldn't it be "tomorrow, because the sun will be down soon"? But Rika showed no hint that she had misspoken. Perhaps she chose not to, or simply forgot, to include a vital piece of her reasoning. It would not be the first time. One of her bad habits was assuming people could understand her without explaining herself.
"Well, it'll depend on how much stuff you need to buy." She looked at the clock. "The rice should be ready."
Rika perked up.
"I'll set the table." She turned cheerfully to the cupboard, then paused. She had to. This was not the home she was familiar with. "Uh…"
"Don't worry about it. It's all done." Satoko offered belatedly. Her mind wandered to their old shack.
In truth, she had considered rebuilding the place several times. But where would she get the materials? Who was going to pay for it? It's not like she had much to spare in the ways of money or time. And even if she went through with the project, who would want to live in it?
Not her, that's for sure. Visiting Hinamizawa was always oppressively bittersweet. She would not be able to stand living here again, alone, with the weight of tainted happiness bearing down at her.
No Rika, either. Before today, Satoko was convinced Rika would never return to Hinamizawa - why would she. This was not home to her. It was a cage she desperately needed to escape from. It had baffled Satoko how a place she herself so loved could be so despised by Rika, and by the time she understood she had sunk too deep in the quagmire.
"Satoko?" Rika tilted her head in slight confusion. "There's only one set."
She opened the lid of the pot, the steam rushing upwards and burning her arm briefly. "What about it?"
Rika watched her picking up and filling the empty bowl on the table, frowning.
"Aren't you eating?"
She grabbed her cup of water and circled to the other side, leaving Rika pouting before her seat. "I'm not hungry."
"Even so… it's not good for your health."
Before she caught herself, the lie spilled out. "Actually, I already ate."
Likely annoyed with her insincerity, Rika glared, as if saying "do you really think I believe that".
She had nothing helpful to say, but she changed her excuse again, putting her hands up.
"Fine, I'm trying to lose weight."
Rika pursed her lips, still displeased, but her annoyance mellowed somewhat. She mumbled: "You should look in the mirror some time."
The suggestion was so absurd she almost scoffed. There was a mirror in virtually all bathrooms, how could she not look into one?
"For what? Not much to see." She deadpanned, tilting the chair back slightly.
Rika was trying to tell her something without words. She could feel it from the intensity of her gaze, and it reminded her of the unpleasant sensation of looking at her own evil self. It was suffocating. Her hand went to her neck automatically, and she pulled at the collar with some difficulty.
Somehow, that triggered the explosion.
"Did you really look? Did you not see how-"
Rika took a deep breath and dropped the chopsticks. They clanged noisily against the surface of the table, rolled slowly away from one another, then stopped completely. Rika closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths.
Satoko quietly dropped the chair back to the ground. She stood, careful not to make a single sound. She made it to the hallway before Rika spoke, barely a whisper.
"Satoko…"
She dared not turn. Disappointment, anger, contempt, pity - no matter what it was, she didn't want to see it.
"…I'm sorry."
How many times had she repeated this phrase? It had turned stale on her tongue long ago. She couldn't be sure if it still meant anything. Maybe it never did, not in the way she wished it could. After all, how do you condense a hundred years' worth of regret and anguish into three words?
"It's my fault. Just… I'm going to take a walk."
"Satoko? Wai-"
Before Rika could finish the sentence, Satoko was out of the door. Her name echoed on the empty street, but she gave them no chance to catch up.
The first place that appeared in her mind was the ruined home.
Out.
The demolished school. Out. The godless shrine. Out. Whatever building or path, if there was even the slightest chance she could hear the reverberation from the past, out.
Part of her thought it was stupid of her to worry about being caught, but another part of her expected Rika to come looking anyway. Both claims fought to be the only truth. They sent out battalions after battalions of memories, each aiming to utterly annihilate the opposition. Whatever they touched went up in agonizing flames of shame.
The war raged on endlessly in her head. They dug up trenches in even the most peaceful times, leaving jagged scars that were unlikely to heal, exposing dark bloody rivers underneath. Her mind was in ruin. She begged for them to stop.
And they did, quite suddenly.
Belatedly, she recognized her legs had also stopped moving forward. Her subconscious mind - or something external - must have processed her surroundings and took control of her limbs. She blinked, and realized she was maybe two steps away from plunging into the Onigafuchi Swamp.
How ironic.
If she could just continue to zone out for a few seconds more, things could have been simple. Her death would have been an accident. There would be no blame. No responsibility. Accidents happen. It couldn't be helped.
But that's cheating. She was not allowed the luxury of not choosing. A simple action became a choice once you recognized the broader situation. A choice became a responsibility once you recognized the consequences. The rule was set so she would always have to face the consequences sooner or later.
"…or if I could stop being a coward."
She dropped onto her back, hands on face.
She wanted to see neither the sky nor the leaves nor the exit. If every path leads to pain, then just don't choose. That's not against the rule, right?
That word again. The sly smile she tried hard not to think about reemerged.
"Aren't you bored yet?"
There was no answer. Maybe nobody was listening. Even if the goddess was still watching, and even if she was able to give her some sign, there was no reason to. She much preferred tales involving copious amounts of conflict and agony. She knew that first-hand.
"If you're going to take away the option for me to live the rest of my life in obscurity, then I'm not going to choose." The threat was as empty as her stomach. "You don't like that kind of story, do you? Well, in that case, why not just let it end already? Make it tragic or ironic or funny. I don't care."
A breeze passed through. It might have been a sigh or a chuckle.
Or maybe it was nothing.
Her hands fell to the ground. A hazy sense of calm washed over with the realization. Most likely, there was no malicious intent specifically aimed at her. She was just too used to blaming her misfortunes on some external force. If there was an enemy, all she needed to do was fight relentlessly until she defeated whoever was standing in her way, and move forward.
But that's not how it worked most of the time. Everything was more complicated the more she looked. She couldn't exactly use the same strategy as winning a game or answering a test question. Sometimes not making a choice is a choice in itself.
Like now, even as she lied here, the only freedom she had was when she would return to face Rika. Everything she had was at the Houjo house. Even if she could leave, where would she go anyway?
Laughters exploded in the quiet woods. She couldn't stop even if she wanted to. She got it now. Her life really was a great show.
And so she kept on laughing, until every single muscle burned with effort, until tears streamed down her cheeks, until she could no longer tell whether it was sorrow or madness that consumed her heart.
Another dream. Another punishment.
She didn't try to dodge the fist. Didn't make a sound. She let the violence rain down. Welcomed it. All part of the package. It shouldn't take long.
The beating paused. She looked up to her uncle. He seemed a little worn out from the exertion.
"There's no money." She informed him.
The pain from opening her mouth was sharp. Perhaps he had broken her jaw, or maybe it came from her swollen cheeks. The details didn't matter.
She was telling the truth. The simple, honest truth. Not just because she wanted to preserve her brother's room. That's part of the reason, yes, but more importantly, she told the truth because she had nothing but the truth left.
Because she was tired. So tired.
"...Nii-Nii spent it all on my birthday present."
"Liar!"
The smell of cheap beer and burnt cigarettes blew into her face. The mixture was nauseating. She frowned.
"Drinking is bad for your health, uncle."
"Shut your trap, brat!" A slap. He flung her to the side. "Now fuck off!"
She should be used to it by now, but the sensation of weightlessness still caught her off guard. For the briefest moment before her body hit the wall, there was the barest hint of liberation tumbling in her stomach. It almost made her happy.
But as suddenly as it began, it ended with blinding pain to the back of her head.
She must have passed out for a second there. When she opened her eyes, it was as if the entire world was flickering. She tasted blood and bile. The injury was probably serious.
That's good.
She pushed herself up and away from the wall, stumbling towards the man who's too drunk to figure out how doors worked.
In all honesty, Satoshi might never wake up. Even if he did, he likely wouldn't care what happened to his room. That wasn't the point. It mattered to her. Protecting this piece of the past was one thing she had yet to fail.
"I wasn't… lying."
She put a hand on his arm, gently, comfortingly.
"All that's inside is memory… you don't need." And which she no longer deserved.
"You lying little shit! Do you think I'm stupid? Huh?"
The kick to her stomach was par of the course. Even still, the impact stunted her enough that she reflexively bent down heaving. And because she didn't let go, some of the bile splashed onto his socks.
"Fucking hell! You little-"
Alcohol can impair a person's judgement by inhibiting the executive decision-making process in the brain. She thought, watching herself being lifted up by the neck. I wonder where I heard that from.
Her gaze fell on him. Somehow - maybe it was hallucination due to lack of oxygen, she wasn't sure - the face looking back wasn't that of the savage, drunk man choking her. It belonged to a man who swore to repent his past transgressions, who vowed to protect her from the collective malice of the village, who died believing they could live a happy life as family.
Enough.
Please. Enough.
"Stop fucking crying!" The man screamed with each pinch and slap. "Shut up. Shut up! Shut up!"
She didn't mean to cry. She wasn't supposed to cry. Crying was reserved for those who were wronged. Her weakness must be punished.
"What the fuck are you looking at! I said stop crying!"
The gentle smile was gone. She can't breathe. She can't see. The screaming was fading.
"If you were never born-"
She had heard that a long time ago, in between broken sobs and hateful looks from her mother. She didn't understand back then, but she did now and it was true and what a happy world it would have been and-
Satoko?
She saw one of the many summers of Showa 58. The club activity that day had to do with river and swimwears and beach ball. Everyone was laughing. Their voices accompanied by thousands of cicadas singing their last song of life.
She stood on the shore alone, watching. They were so close. They were right there, waiting.
Satoko.
Rika. Gentle, clueless Rika. Smiling at her, holding out a hand.
Aren't you coming?
She wanted to reach back. She wanted to break apart. She wanted to step into the sun.
But before she had the chance, the vision vanished… no, that's not it. She destroyed it. The happiness was in her hands, and she crushed it again, and again, and again.
She opened her mouth to scream. To breathe. Nothing. Even though air filled her mouth and nostril, none of it could get to her lungs, because she was being choked. Because the hands choking her were really her own.
Of course.
She wanted to laugh. This was retribution. What was she thinking remembering such nice things?
"Un-cle…"
With the last of her strength, she gave a slight pat to the hands that had once held her protectively.
She knew this wasn't the same Teppei. She knew this gesture served nothing other than making herself feel better.
Still… even someone like him was capable of kindness. Having experienced it firsthand, she was certain he was just as lost as she was. Blame it on Hinamisawa syndrome. Blame it on the dam war. Blame it on her.
She didn't dare to hope she could get him back, but at least, at least…
"I'm… so-"
Snap.
"Wake up."
It was quite a rude awakening. She didn't even have time to remember the pain from her latest dream. As soon as she regained consciousness, she noticed three things: first, the familiar and comforting scent; second, the soft warmth that was acting as her pillow; then finally, the tenderness on Rika's upside-down face.
"…morning."
"Don't you mean good evening? The sun's about to set."
She was right. It was getting dark. How long had she been asleep? An hour? Less?
"How was dinner?"
Rika glared at her, then sighed.
"I swear, sometimes…" She didn't finish the sentence.
Satoko tried to sit up, but Rika had a firm grip on her shoulders. There was nothing she could do.
The end of her hair almost brushed against her cheeks. They looked longer than she remembered. But somehow, despite breaking out of the cage of Hinamizawa, despite growing up to be adults, Rika still had that same look Satoko sometimes saw when they were kids.
Rika's finger trailed along her jawline.
"Why here?"
It was the same look she had at night, sitting on the windowsill, thinking Satoko was already asleep.
"…would you believe me if I said I got lost?"
The finger stopped at her chin.
"Can I believe it?"
She looked so fragile. Satoko extended her left hand and gently poked at her cheek, trying to mess up the expression.
"What's with that face? I'm not lying or trying to be mean."
Rika relaxed her grips and closed her eyes. She seemed to be enjoying the touch, but she was quiet. Suddenly, she reached for Satoko's hand and pulled down the wristband.
"I'm not convinced."
The scar felt hot under her touch. How did she know? When? She never mentioned this to anyone, but then again she never was the type to wear accessories. What did it matter, anyway? She couldn't very well try to hide it or explain it right now. Besides, what she really wanted was-
"I'm sorry."
Even with her wrist seized, she could still move her fingers. Fortunately, they were close enough to touch Rika's face.
"I'm really, really sorry. So please, don't cry."
"Then admit it." Rika said. Her tears fell on Satoko's lips. "Admit you are being mean."
That was not the only thing she wanted her to admit. Satoko knew that, but she wasn't sure what else Rika was asking for. There wasn't much left in her. She couldn't give something she didn't have. So she stayed silent and watched the tears fall, helpless.
"You promised." Rika continued. Her fingers wrapped around the scar, as if afraid it would suddenly burst open. "If you don't want your life, then let me have it."
The meaning behind it was too heavy. It would only become a burden. She was fairly certain Rika had spoken out of some misguided sense of duty, and she was not about to take advantage of that. Not anymore.
"Nobody said anything like that." She used her free hand to poke at Rika's forehead. It startled her just enough to loosen her grip on her. Satoko stood up quickly and reached out a hand. "Com'on. It's really getting dark."
The plan was to let Rika stay in her bedroom while she slept in the living room.
But just as she was gathering up the materials for a makeshift bed, she was attacked from behind with a hug. Rika, who had been quiet the entire way home, seemed to have made up her mind about something. It was impossible to get out of the hug without potentially injuring either of them.
"What's the matter?"
No response.
"Um."
Still no response, but Rika was nuzzling her like a kitten.
"Could you… let go?"
Silence, followed by a quiet but firm "no".
If the situation wasn't so awkward, Satoko might have laughed.
"Why not?"
"…mii."
That's not an answer at all. Rika was hugging her too tight and it was difficult to breathe. She still didn't understand what was going on.
"Isn't that unbecoming for a lady?"
"…you are being mean again."
The arms wrapped tighter. She could feel her heartbeat pick up in response to the lack of oxygen.
"I'm just- whatever. Aren't you tired?"
"Hmm?"
A small sigh. She was doing this on purpose. It was unfair.
"You came all the way back." She tried to separate her own mixed feelings from the fact, but surely Rika was so close to her. Surely she heard the turmoil within. She wanted to get away. "You should be tired."
Rika seemed to think about that. Or maybe she was trying to drag this on for as long as possible. Who knows.
"It's easy when you can see both the path and the destination." She said finally. "It's more tiring to not come back for so long."
Her words tickled Satoko's back. It felt as if she was on the cusp of realizing something. Something dangerous. Something important. The possibility paralyzed her with fear.
"…you really do like talking about philosophy."
She made a feeble attempt at a joke. It came out like an accusation. Rika drew back temporarily, only to pull in closer the next moment. She was stubborn like that.
"Ne, Satoko."
Rika had always complained about the differences in their growth. In the distant past, she would pout a little when she had to tilt her head to meet Satoko's eyes. But now her height was an advantage. She easily rested her chin on her shoulder, and it was impossible for Satoko to ignore what she said.
"When will you come back?"
She knew that question. It had come from Rika too, but in a dream. Was it just a coincidence? Was she still dreaming? She wondered which would be more tragic.
I'm here. She wanted to say. I've been stuck here. But the words were pale and distant.
Her fingers twitched towards Rika's. She wanted to feel them intertwine with hers again. Winter was coming.
"Is that why you came back? To ask weird questions?"
She longed to touch her. To hold her. Her arms were leaden with broken memories. If she moved, they would surely shatter to nothing.
"…do you really not know?"
No. She wanted to say. I always got it wrong. I always get it wrong and I am out of mistakes.
Rika was waiting for her response, but she had nothing helpful to add. A hint of anger leaked out of her usually sweet voice.
"I'll remind you again, I haven't forgiven you."
"I know that already."
"Liar."
She wished she was lying. If she forgot everything, it might be easier to breathe. If she could forget everything, she would have left this cursed place and this cursed life.
"I'm not lying. I remember everything."
"That just proves you have deceived even yourself."
Were they even talking about the same thing anymore? She wanted to get away. She wanted to look at her and tell her all that she had done to repent. She knew better than anyone else the sins she had committed and the kind of punishments reserved just for her. Even Rika couldn't deny that.
"You are being unreasonable."
"Am I?" Rika unwrapped herself from her and spun her around. Despite being shorter in stature, she seemed to tower over Satoko. "Prove me wrong then. Say my name."
…huh?
The sudden movement and challenge dazed her. She instinctively tried to rise up to the dare, tried to speak, then she saw her reflection in Rika's eyes. And she couldn't do it.
It made no sense. Why not? Maybe it was the intensity burning within the depth of her eyes. Maybe it was just this particular moment. It didn't matter. She had said Rika's name a thousand times before. It was as natural and as effortless as blinking. She bet she had even said her name out of habit that afternoon.
…hadn't she?
"I-" she tried to back away, but Rika followed. She had to make a stand. "You are making a big deal out of nothing. It's just the two of us now, there's no need-"
"What now? You haven't said my name in years!"
She hadn't? No. No, that can't be right. She rummaged through her memories, trying to pick up even one moment. Their meeting this afternoon was tense, sure, but the past couple years…
She hadn't talked to Rika the past couple years. She hadn't even seen Rika since that night.
"I said I'd wait for you. You promised you'd come!" Her eyes burned with misty, irrepressible fury, but she refused to cry. She grabbed Satoko's collar, forcing their eyes to meet. "Why didn't you come? Why did you break your promise? Why did you disappear?"
How many loops ago was that?
"I've had enough." Her hands shook. "I tried… I tried to wait. I tried to get through the loneliness. I hated watching you destroy yourself in the guise of repentance, but I let you do it. I watched you die over and over and over… and for what?"
Satoko was too stunned to answer. She was still trying to process it all.
"Didn't you promise you'd come back? Why do you still try to die? Do you honestly think I'll be happy watching you torture yourself like that?"
The dam had broken.
"You are such a stupid idiot!"
The exclamation more or less shocked Satoko into action. She was still trying to piece together everything Rika had said, but that could wait a bit longer. Hesitantly, she put a hand on Rika's head.
"I am sorry."
"Don't… don't just say it. And don't… don't just stand there." Rika mumbled through her sobs. "Don't you know how… how to comfort people?"
…sometimes she really could be childish.
"Really," she put her arms around Rika and held her as gently as possible. Rika was as soft and warm as she remembered. She tried not to stiffen too much. "I'm sorry."
Rika nestled into the hug. "If- if you really feel sorry, then stop- stop being mean."
"I never-"
"And stop interrupting." Rika pinched her, hard enough for her to hiss. She took several breaths to calm herself, and began, "as the only other looper, only I can understand and judge you for your sins.
"I should have been the one to decide your punishment in the first place. Not you. You will stop being a stubborn fool and listen to me.
"First, you will stop avoiding everyone. They were all worried about you. They didn't understand why you suddenly shut them out, and I'm not going to let you keep hurting them."
Guilt and fear crept up her spine in the familiar way whenever she thought about them. She knew Rika was right, but she didn't know what else to do. How could she still look at them after everything she had put them through? They didn't remember. They didn't even have the option to break ties with her. Shouldn't she do it for them?
As if sensing her hesitation, Rika sighed.
"We've spent too many days and nights worrying about you, Satoko." She mumbled. "Keiichi, Rena, Mii, Shii… everyone had been worried they might wake up one day and find out that you are gone forever. For a long time, I convinced myself you wouldn't do that to us. To me. But…"
Her grip tightened slightly.
"Iried called. He told me how much your health was deteriorating. I was so scared. I thought those deaths at night would be enough for you, and that one day… maybe one day you'd realize that we need you. That I need you. I even… even…"
…she supposed the dream wasn't just a dream, after all.
"I had to be sure. I had been waiting for so long. That's why I came back. I thought you'd smile at me and tell me everything's okay. Instead I found you like this! And then you ran away like you were never coming back! Do you know how afraid I was? I searched everywhere! I was so lost. I don't want to be in tragedies anymore. When I found you next to the swamp, I thought I was too late. I thought you were-"
Rika didn't finish, but she didn't have to. She had said more than enough to make Satoko understand.
She could feel the weight of every word, unbearably heavy, threatening to crush her. But she had Rika in her arms, she couldn't let it destroy both of them.
It would remain a mystery why Rika even bothered. If she just gave up on Satoko, she wouldn't have to carry so much burden. So much worry.
Then again, she knew how stubborn Rika could be. Even if Satoko told her to give up, she would just refuse.
She waited long enough to be sure Rika had let everything out before she whispered in her ears.
"…sorry."
Rika's arms snaked around the back of her neck.
"I'll say it again. If you don't want your life, let me have it."
Satoko wasn't sure if she could do that, but she didn't gather the strength to say no.
"I'll think about it."
"That's good enough for now."
Rika pulled away slightly. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her face was messy with tear stains again. But her lips curled to the most beautiful smile Satoko had ever seen.
"Promise me, okay? Stop looking at those faraway places. Stop thinking about the past. Stop trying to leave me behind."
-and call my name again.
That night, Satoko saw the end where it all began.
In the endless Sea of Fragments, only the two of them remained. Rika was in rough shape, but she was the only one, the only thing, not covered in blood. Blood that Satoko had drawn.
She had given up. No matter what she did, she couldn't get the blood off.
"I can't-" She whispered. Her voice rang through the hollow space. Somehow, that gave her courage. She had been weak and foolish, but now was her change. "I won't hurt anyone anymore."
She reached for the end. The last fragment of Onigari-no-Ryuo.
But Rika was faster.
She blinked, for a moment not understanding why. Mechanically, her head tilted upwards, trailing Rika's body until it stopped at her face, which was shadowed by the light that came from the end of the world.
Shock gave way to relief. She opened herself up, offering every vulnerability she could expose.
"End this." She begged. "Please, just end it."
She used to think back to this moment with bittersweet irony. She had rationalized to herself that there was nothing but hatred on RIka's face, even though realistically she couldn't be sure.
It made the most sense. She had lost long before the "game" started. What she dragged Rika through was nothing but a detour. The world would return to its original state. She would be despised, forgotten, and abandoned, with the added bonus that maybe she would have never existed in the new world.
She could only imagine how nice it would be. Without her, Mother and Stepdad wouldn't die. Her brother Satoshi would never get to L5. Even if the Houjo would still draw the ire of the village, one day, with the help of the club members, all might be forgiven.
The chain of tragedies surrounding the Houjo would break.
That's her justification. That's why she thought Rika's gaze must be cold.
But now she finally saw the truth.
"Don't be a fool"
With the flick of her wrist, the shard fell into the void.
"I won't kill you."
The light from the edge of the world shone bright and warm, illuminating not only Rika's tears, but also the smile of finding something she thought she had lost. What she had interpreted as burying the shard into her back was in fact a loving embrace.
And the last thing she heard before the world dissolved, what she had clung to like driftwood, the verdict that sent her on the quest for redemption…
"This is not the end. This is just a new beginning."
It was her absolution.
Satoko slowly blinked awake.
The first thing she saw was Rika, lying next to her, hair pooled on the pillow. She was writing something into her palm with her finger.
"…did you just call me 'baka' again?"
"Did I?"
Rika laughed, her voice quiet like starlights. Satoko couldn't get annoyed with that smile. Besides, it was nice to feel her close again after such a long time. She wrapped her fingers around Rika's.
The childlike laughter morphed into something else. Something a little unfamiliar, yet honest in a way that made her feel alive.
She blinked, and Rika's hand was brushing her hair to the side, accompanied by a whisper.
"What's on your mind?"
What else?
She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say. She still felt too conscious, too guilty, too much of a fool. She rested her palm on the back of her hand, appreciating the weight.
"Nothing important."
"Really?"
"Mm." She moved their hands to the middle, so that neither of them would wake up tomorrow morning with cramps. "Go back to sleep."
Tomorrow. She marveled at the thought of the word. It had been a long time since she looked forward to the next sunrise.
Rika pouted. "But I don't wanna."
"You are the one who suggested grocery shopping." She deadpanned. Something warm spread from within her chest. "Just close your eyes."
"Hmph." Rika made some noise of protest, but she did as she was told.
Satoko hesitated for a moment, watching her, but she remembered the light. She remembered the shard falling from those fingers. She remembered the smile.
So she said, "good night, Rika."
"Good night," Rika didn't open her eyes, but she was smiling. "Satoko."