Chapter 13

"So," Wakashika leaned on an elbow at their corner booth and muttered without enthusiasm, "three analysts walk into a bar … "

Habutae and Shiratake barely reacted to the lame attempt to break the tension as they stared down into their drinks in the deserted establishment. Usually a team trip to the bar would entail ordering something fun or interesting, especially Wakashika who seemed to enjoy mixed drinks. Today after the sun had set and they finally got clearance to leave Kura without the risk of getting blown up, they all kept it simple. The beer that was on tap. And all three nursed their pints.

At length Wakashika took a sip of his and set it down. "You think Momoki and Togo will join us?"

Shiratake cleaned his glasses for the eighteenth time. "He said something about finishing up and they'd be over. Apparently he needs to talk to us. To be honest, he's probably more spent than we are."

Habutae rubbed his knees beneath the table. "Why does the building have to have so many floors? I hadn't been to most of them before."

"Like the morgue?"

He shuddered at Shiratake's bland delivery. "Yeah. Did you know there was one?"

They both shook there heads.

"I mean, it makes sense and all, we are part of law enforcement, but still." Picking up his beer he tried to wash the memory of the taste from his mouth.

Wakashika turned his pint glass slowly, watching the foam. "Do you think that scent is present in the well dives? The dead body smell? I mean, Sakaido never seems to react to it."

"Probably used to it." Shiratake shrugged. "How many corpses has he come across by now?"

Habutae cocked his head. "Guys, remember Narihisago was a homicide detective alongside Momoki, they probably encountered it for real."

"Encountered what for real?" Momoki and Togo stood beside the booth, both as weary as the rest of the crew.

As they settled into the booth a waitress came and got their orders. The trend continued, they all kept it simple. Beer. Once she left, Habutae cleared his throat, "We were talking about the scent we encountered … in the morgue."

Wrinkling his nose, Momoki tensed for a moment. "Gah, you never do forget the rank of decomposition. Yeah, we had quite a few cases in the field where we came across an older crime scene. Some of which were rather grisly."

Wakashika leaned forward. "Did you get used to it?"

"Sort of. More or less learned to hold my breath." He cocked a slight grin. "Usually didn't have to get too close, though. Narihisago was typically the one who did that part."

They all blinked. Togo took his hand beneath the table.

The waitress delivered their beers and left them in their corner booth with an invitation to holler if they needed anything. After a gulp of his beer Momoki shook his head. "Those were very different days with more traditional methods and much slower results. Cases took weeks to months, and some went cold despite our determination. Not like now, where if we can get those cognition particles, in a matter of hours to a handful of days we inevitably stop them in their tracks. Sometimes before the next kill." The light in his eyes faded a bit. His finger tracing up and down the glass disturbing the condensation.

Shiratake tapped a hand on the table. "Sir, you said you had something important to tell us?"

He started for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Yeah … sorry, it's been a long day. I don't really know how to put this any other way. But … uhh, Kokufu and I deliberated long and hard about this. It's hard to even say this—we're benching Narihisago from diving for a while."

Stunned stares greeted him, even Togo whom he hadn't had the chance to tell yet. Her pulse quickened in his hand.

Wakashika sat bolt upright. "You can't do that! He's our main pilot! Sakaido's the one to get the job done. We can't just do this with anyone. We need him."

Momoki took a large gulp to steel his nerves, still haunted by the expression he had received when he'd told Narihisago. "We already arranged it, Hondomachi has stepped up. We'll be relying on her exclusively for the interim."

"Sir, not that she's bad or anything," Habutae added, "but the team is truly calibrated to Sakaido. The fact is, Narihisago is a full part of our team."

"Narihisago is in serious need of help." He couldn't even look up as he said it. "He will be quite busy with the medical team as they try to get to the bottom of his underlying condition that Kura has ignored for the benefit of solving crimes. Kokufu and I disagree with how Hayaseura handled things. For over a year now Narihisago has been working with an un-diagnosed psychosis, possibly more than one. You all witnessed today how unstable he is. Hayaseura was content to overlook that. We are not. Narihisago may be a convict, but he is still a human being. He should not be subjected to suffering from a condition that should be treated."

Togo gave his hand a hidden squeeze. "We can give him what he needs. If today was any indication it's past time for that."

"He … isn't pleased with this decision." Shoulders sagging, Momoki talked more into the beer foam than to his staff. "In fact, I would say he wants nothing to do with it. I feel like a traitor to him—again. Back then I didn't have the authority as I watched them give up leaving him a wreck. Now I have the authority, I can get him help and he's … he feels betrayed."

Shiratake held up a hand. "Today has been rather rough. It may have more to do with that. Perhaps on another day things would be different."

Habutae nodded. "To be honest, we all knew a bit about his past, and even the pushed suicides, but until today what I imagined about him ..." his eyes opened a bit wider, "that didn't match reality. Especially when the guy had a full on breakdown in front of us."

"Did you see what that guard did to him?" Wakashika leaned on one elbow. "Seriously not cool. I mean, if that happened to me repeatedly I don't think I would stay calm and just accept it. Fukuda was actually right, Narihisago saved our asses, and that guard actually left nail scratches on him."

"That will be handled. Kokufu knows the identity of the guard. He's going to be transferred with a reprimand. That was not acceptable, even though I know that Narihisago can be a handful. Today, he wasn't. Today he acted in our best interests at the risk of his own life. As I am the one the purposefully unlocked the cockpit chamber, I am taking full responsibility for his actions."

Wakashika folded his arms. "Hey, what was that about his parents not visiting? I mean, that's terrible."

Momoki stopped him with a slash of his hand through the air. "Don't, you have no idea about them."

"Dude, it's still cold as hell."

"They're old fashioned. Honor to the Narihisago name is very important in their prefecture. Trust me, they were actually doting parents. When Akihito plead guilty and was declared a felon they had no real choice but to cut ties with him. That cost of that was dear."

Habutae sat up straighter. "He said he had no brother … if he was an only child, that means they're not taken care of like traditional families rely on. That is a serious impact. Momoki, … have you spoken to them?"

"Not in years." He sighed. "The last time was when I called them with the news about his arrest and results of the trial."

Togo picked up on it. "Maybe it's time to give them an update. Let them know about what's going on."

The very idea set his nerves on edge. To let them know that he had killed not just once … but … and … he didn't even know where to begin.

"Not today." She lifted her glass. "Save it for after we get Kura settled a bit. For tonight, a toast is in order. I never thought I would say this, but let's raise a glass for those not here with us, Narihisago and …" her smile turned a bit wry, "Fukuda. Without them we might not be here right now."

"Here here!" They clinked their glasses.

In the cover of the chattering, Momoki whispered to Togo. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Giving me the idea."

~ID~

The quaint house dwelt in the midst of an old farmstead. A brewery, no less. Momoki had known about it from Narihisago's nostalgic comments over the years, but he'd never seen the place for himself. The whole property was well tended with rice paddies for the small batches of sake his father was known for. He waited beneath a wooden awning for the door to open from his unannounced visit. Now he wondered if this had been wise at all.

What if they didn't want to hear anything? Instead of driving all the way to Fukui prefecture, maybe he should have called, then all it would have been was a hang up. Almost losing his nerve, he took a step back to leave when the door opened.

A small but feisty woman, Akihito's mother stood in the doorway, shock in her eyes. Passing behind her, his father paused with an unreadable expression. She gained her voice, "Funetaro Momoki. It's been a long while, what brings you all the way here?"

"As you said, Mrs. Narihisago, it's been awhile. May I come in?"

"Of course." She opened the door wider.

Before entering, Momoki removed his shoes and traded them for a set of guest slippers. He followed Mrs. Narihisago into the living room. "Make yourself at home. I'll be right back with the tea. Do you still take it your usual way?"

He chuckled. "I've actually become more of a coffee drinker. But I will gladly take it however you would prefer to make it. Don't put yourself out on account of an unexpected visit." That she had actually recalled such details after the few times they had come over to Tokyo, it was amazing. And truly, it sprang to mind that this must be where Akihito got his memory from … well, the functional memory, before the trauma tainted it.

The home was lovely and far more cozy than the one Momoki had grown up in. The rigidly traditional style of his family's property, in the more public parts, was cold and uninviting in his opinion. But it wasn't something he had the power to change. Expectations, the burden of being born to a family of stature. This place … though devoid of anything that spoke of their son, he could picture a young Akihito curled up in the corner by the packed bookcase reading from dawn until dusk having to be reminded repeatedly about mealtimes. Through the window he spied the old tree Akihito mentioned climbing to watch the birds hatch in the spring. There was even the tree house he and his father had built, though that was falling apart from neglect. So many memories shared with him back in the stabler days. When life was simpler and they were both on the same side of the law.

Where did he stand now? Where was it really? From day to day, moment to moment that remained questionable.

Mr. Narihisago followed her out of the kitchen and joined them to kneel at the table. She set out the tea with a soft smile. "We so rarely get company. And my dear, Funetaro, it's been ages."

"Three years."

"That qualifies as ages to a woman of my years."

He took the offered tea cup with a slight bow. "I do apologize. Only recently did it come to my attention that I haven't stopped by." Taking a sip he nodded. "This is as delightful as I remembered it."

"Locally grown." She sipped her own.

Mr. Narihisago had never been much of a talker. He lived by the rule that one spoke when there was reason, and not without it. Quietly he partook the tea, but his eyes watched Momoki with the intensity of a hawk, waiting to strike. It was almost like he anticipated Momoki was going to open an old wound.

Now or never. Placing the cup in the saucer to keep from spilling it, Momoki folded his hands in front of him. "I have come to speak with you about your son."

Mr. Narihisago set his cup down a bit too sharply. "Who?"

That was the reaction I was afraid of.

Mrs. Narihisago's hand hovered just above her chest. She darted a nervous glance toward her husband, who continued. "I have no son."

"Please, let me say what I have to say about Akihito. Then, I promise I will go my way and if you wish to hear no more, I will honor your wish."

His eyes hardened.

But she leaned forward before he could say another word. "Is he alright?"

Momoki heaved a sigh of relief. He had hoped the use of his name might break through. It had been a gamble. "That is a complicated answer." Turning his attention to her, he summoned up all the practiced speeches he had run through on the drive here. And they all dissolved before they could reach his tongue. Forced to wing it he blurted out, "Akihito works with me at a special police unit where we use some amazing technology to catch serial killers. He's proven to be very skilled at it."

"Well of course." She smiled. "That's my bright boy for you. You know that was his passion, being a detective. And he's back to being one. How wonderful, he must be so happy to be out of prison."

That statement caught his breath in his throat, he looked at his hands. "No. He's … he's still incarcerated. I'm just his handler … his supervisor."

The joy fell from her eyes. "Oh … I see."

Mr. Narihisago only gave a little grunt before sipping his tea.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but in the light of recent events I think it's unlikely that status will ever change." It haunted him, how convinced Akihito was that he couldn't be salvaged.

"Because of what he did."

"No." Momoki steeled himself for the hard part. "Because of his condition."

She inhaled sharply covering her mouth. "Is he sick?"

"Sadly, yes. And getting worse. His duty is high pressure. Recently Akihito suffered a mental breakdown. Not the most serious I have ever seen in my life, but alarming, none-the-less." He took a deep breath, knowing what he had to bring up. "After Muku and Ayako's deaths left him traumatized something happened to him. He changed … irreversibly. We have learned that someone influenced him to do what he did."

She gripped her tea cup, it rattled against the saucer. "You mean when he killed that awful man that took my granddaughter and daughter-in-law."

Momoki nodded. So far she was taking this rather well, and his father? Well, he remained a morose mask. But at least he hadn't left the room. "Unfortunately, even clearing his name with this new evidence would do no good."

"And why not?"

"Because, Akihito's been left seriously mentally ill in the wake. Recent events have brought things to a head. Aware of his instability it cannot be overlooked that he would be a danger to society."

His father grunted into his tea cup.

"Good heavens, why?"

Momoki rubbed his temple before he replied to her. "The truth is … " he had to take a deep breath to loosen the tension growing in his chest, " … he is criminally insane. He has some very problematic tendencies I would rather not get into … but his inability to control these urges make him a threat. And right now, with his breakdown we're worried about what the past year has done to compound his illness."

The edges of her eyes watered. "What's wrong with him?"

"We don't fully know. We're going to find out and get him the help he needs. I assure you, so at the very least instead of sitting idle in a prison cell, he can once more do what he always loved, solve mysteries."

"And help innocent people." She nodded curtly but couldn't suppress the sniffle. "That's my boy."

He wasn't expecting that, and his voice cracked in his throat. "Yeah. I … wanna see that again too. It's going to be a tough time. But I thought you should know what's happening."

"May we see him? Where he is now, can we visit?"

Slowly he shook his head. "At the moment his past is part of the problem, I wouldn't recommend a visit. However, once things settle out I can see what I can do to get you a visit with him. He might really appreciate it." He glanced to his father. "From both of you."

He looked away, out of the window.

So much for that.

She came around the table and embraced Momoki. "Please, take care of my son. I miss him so much." The weighted glance she stole at her husband told the entire tale. Somehow it didn't surprise Momoki that his father appeared to have banned any discussion of him. This explained why he hadn't heard or seen them.

"I'm trying, but this is a daunting task. He used to be so talkative. That has changed making it harder to gauge when he is struggling."

She held up a finger. "Akihito is strong. He will be fine. And the moment he is I want a visit. You promise me that. As soon as possible, got it young man?"

Momoki grasped her hand and forced a warm smile. "I promise. Now … if you will forgive me, I should be getting back to Tokyo."

"You came such a long way." She refused to let go of his hand. "Such a dedicated man, you haven't changed a bit. Take care, you have bags under your eyes, poor dear."

With a bow, he turned to leave, switching back to his shoes at the front door before walking toward his vehicle. A reflection in the car window coming toward him stopped him from opening his door.

He turned to find Akihito's father, hawk-stare and all. He inhaled and exhaled, shaking with each breath. "Tell me, is he truly contributing? Catching murderers?"

Momoki nodded stiffly. "He was. In our department he is responsible for cracking the case of every single one we have in custody over the past year. That's why we're taking his declining condition so seriously."

Placing a gnarled hand on each shoulder, Mr. Narihisago declared, "Take care of my son."

Had he heard that right? Momoki stammered for a moment before offering a hasty bow. When he rose he stared at Akihito's father's departing back. Momoki had never expected to hear that from him now. He knew the power it took for those words to leave his lips.

Maybe there was a chance … if Akihito got it together enough … he would see his parents again for a long overdue visit.

~ID~

Narihisago had long since had enough of this bullshit. The day had begun when he'd been fetched from his cell practically as the lights had gone on, cuffed as always. Since then it had been a barrage of tests: scans of various types, repetitive forms with hundreds of ridiculous questions, poking and prodding as they shuffled him from room to room around Kura's medical ward. He hardly caught the names of those running the tests. They addressed him, briefly, addressing most of their commentary to Kokufu and Momoki, who had also been in attendance the whole day.

Hours into this fracas, Narihisago now lay thoroughly strapped down the bed of a machine staring back at the large tunnel he was lined up for. This was one he hadn't been in yet today. There were so many damn initials being yammered about he wasn't sure which one it even was. MRI, CAT, PET? They stood for something, and it wasn't animals.

What worried him the most was the IV they'd stuck in his arm about an hour ago. That wasn't just saline. A tech had injected something and now they waited for some reason no one was explaining. Through the window of the booth he caught snippets of the conversation. None of it was reassuring as he tested the full restraints.

And these were indeed thorough. Padded leather straps firm across his chest, stomach, ankles, upper and lower arms. If this was like the other scan, right before they did it, they would trap his head between two boards, more or less so he couldn't move at all.

Good thing I'm not claustrophobic or this truly would be hell.

He sighed once more keying into the conversation catching Momoki's reply as he pointed at the screen. "Yes. That should do the trick."

The tech replied, "Ok, just about ready to proceed. Once I get the baseline scan, we run that video and do a comparative scan."

"So this will give us an answer?"

"Can't promise anything for certain. But at least we'll be able to see what areas activate when he's triggered."

Narihisago stiffened. Triggered? Wait … what are they doing? Shit no … no!

He twisted his wrists feeling the tight rub of the straps. It held firm with no appreciable give. He couldn't help but remark, "I hope these straps hold."

Momoki shot a glance his way, meeting his eyes. "They will."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes. This scan technology has improved recently. We need to witness what's going on inside your head to understand what happens to you."

Narihisago narrowed his eyes at him warily. "You know what happens. You've seen it. Triggering me is a bad plan. People get hurt."

"This is the last test today." Pointing to the IV, he attempted to be reassuring, "We're prepped to sedate you."

Shutting his eyes tight, he clenched his hands into fists. "You do know that sedation makes me worse, right? What if I rip the IV out?"

Momoki didn't miss a beat. "I'll tackle you."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Just relax."

Narihisago stared up at the blank screen above his head. "Easy for you say. You're not the one about to lose it."

Another tech came forward and carefully wedged his head into a padded little box that clamped into place, holding his head in the perfect alignment for the scanner. After a double check, she gave the thumbs up. "Good to go. Let's clear the room."

Now, Narihisago couldn't see anything but the overhead screen. He heard the door clicking shut. Shifting in the restraints the minute amount he could, he wished dearly he could get up out of this damn thing. The needle in his arm brought a promise of dread.

He did not want to do this.

"Easy, Narihisago. Just calm down. We need a good base scan for this to work."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "Seriously don't want to do this. Momoki, I'm begging you to reconsider."

"I'm sorry." His stern reply came over the speaker. "I promise, this will be as quick as we can make it."

Normies! Fukuda's word stuck in his head. There's nothing quick about this. Nothing at all. Do they find this fun to just poke at it to see what happens? They know what happens. He's seen it, held me down against it, and he wants to just 'see what happens'?

The machine fired up, whirring and sending vibrations through him as the bed he was attached to slid headfirst into the machine, pausing once his head was fully inside. Peaceful landscapes plastered the screen. Beaches, fields, mountain streams. More reminders of the world he was denied access to. Narihisago breathed as slow as he could wanting them to get whatever the hell they were after if only so he didn't have to repeat this again.

The bed shifted directions, extracting his head from the machine to reset.

That wasn't so bad.

But he had an idea of what was coming.

A minute passed before the main tech's voice came muffled through the glass, "That's a good baseline."

Kokufu asked, "How does it look?"

"Ehhh, well, I probably should let the doctor do the interpretation … that's kinda protocol."

"It's not normal, is it."

"Hey guys?" Narihisago called out, "A reminder that I can hear you over here."

Their voices just went a bit quieter, now unintelligible mumbling as Narihisago lay there, his heart pounding in his chest in anticipation. Maybe if he closed his eyes it wouldn't happen. Why the hell were they doing this to him?

"Momoki, I'm begging you. Don't do this. Please." Desperation entered his voice to the point that even he could hear it as he stared at the black screen. "The cost isn't worth it. Don't show me what I think you're going to."

Silence for a few heartbeats. Then, "I'm sorry. We have no choice."

"Momoki!" Narihisago clenched his teeth.

The dang bed started a relentless slide backward into the machine. Overhead sprang to life filling his eyes with the screen capture, time stamp and all, from the dive into the Gravedigger's well the underside of the perpetually falling house.

There he stood.

The reaction was instantaneous. "John Walker!" The name tore from his throat so fiercely he tasted copper from his own blood. His vision narrowed to a tunnel focused on that one thing. An object that wrenched all the wrath in him mercilessly to the surface. He thrashed against the tight restraints, unable to gain any purchase, the fury only overflowed as he frothed at the mouth, screaming his frustration. It physically hurt he bucked so hard, unable to turn his head, unable to look away. Even if he was able to, he knew now caught up in the frenzy he wouldn't. There was only one thing on his mind.

Kill! Kill! KILL!

Within him the impulse became a runaway train on full throttle pulverizing all reason. Only one thing would stop it.

Kill! Kill! KILL!

But he couldn't … John Walker—Hayaseura was already dead.

Hot tears ran from his eyes even as his demented screaming filled his ears. There was no stop to this hell!

The fingers crawled beneath his skin, a strange numbing through his veins. It seeped in, like rain drops into parched soil, gradually penetrating the knife edge shredding his sanity. His muscles lost the agonizing tension. His eyes lost the focus on the screen that had been blank for some time now. His breathing gradually eased into slow gasps.

The light was fading … but that was all. Closing him off from sensation.

They didn't know what they had done … no one ever listened.

~ID~

This morning only one thought had been on Momoki's mind as he arrived at Kura, they were going to discover what was wrong and Narihisago was going to be able to see his parents again. Now, in the PET scanner's control booth Momoki stood bolt upright watching in horror. Kokufu's hand on his arm the only that kept him from tearing through the door. Narihisago's deranged cries filled the air. A camera feed recorded his facial expression, he was clearly out of his mind. His body strained and twisted in the restraints the fraction they would allow. Momoki fretted he would break his wrists as he thrashed.

This was a full on fit. Nothing anyone said was reaching him.

The tech's eyes widened as the scan played out in real time. "Holy fuckin' shit! I—I've never seen anything like this!" Quickly he shuffled through a couple other marked 'abnormal' comparative scans.

Even at a glance Momoki could tell Narihisago's scan was wrong. The real time waves of color blazed in various areas.

"Tsh!" The tech glanced between the screens. "If I wasn't seeing this I'd think someone was playing a prank. The doctor will have to give you an official interpretation. But that shit ain't right. See how this one here? It's from a guy in the midst of an addictive drug fix. It's active on the same pathways as him, but his are far more intense. Seriously intense. And overlay this one here, this is a brain in the midst of a panic attack, fight or flight. Check off those pathways as well."

Momoki pounded a hand on the counter, barely drowning out the screaming. "Do you have enough? For God sake, sedate him!"

"Yeah, yeah. I do." The flustered tech hit a button and another monitor responded.

It took a full two minutes as the sedative dragged him down. At last, Narihisago lay completely slack on the scanner's bed. Even from here Momoki could see where the straps, padded or not, had rubbed him raw, bruises already forming. Fortunately, the IV had remained in him, wrapped enough that it hadn't popped from the vein. If that had happened he had no idea what they would have done.

He stared at the scans, remembering the dread in Narihisago's voice before this began. Now he truly wondered about the wisdom of this path they had forced him to take.

The tech blinked at the screen. Narihisago's head in the machine's scanner was still giving read outs. They were active. Far more active than his baseline. "Is he actually out?" The tech glanced at the vital read out. "Yeah, he's sedated. Damn! That's way too much activity. What the hell is going on here?"

Momoki buried his face in his hand. Undeniable evidence of what Narihisago had been telling him all this time. All he could do was repeat it, "My God, he'd always said sedation made it worse. Tell me this doesn't mean what I think it does."

Stunned, the tech looked over his shoulder. "That all we've done is taken his ability to react. He's still experiencing the fit behind closed eyes. I … I've never seen this before."

"Kokufu … what have we done?"

~ID~

He opened his eyes, thrashing in the shallow pool. He gasped each breath in a chest so tight it felt like he wasn't getting any air in. Trembling violently, he was unable to begin the coordination to stand.

Warm, gentle hands touched his back. Blindly, he groped toward their source, finding a body kneeling beside him waiting to embrace him as he pulled himself toward her lap. Kiki stroked his shoulders. "I have you, Akihito. Take a deep breath, you're safe now."

Tears blinded him as he collapsed against her. His sobs echoed in his ears. Not even in the real world anymore and it still tore at him in a raging current.

"How could they?" His throat was raw. "I begged them not to! They wouldn't listen." He tried to rein it in, but the cycle fed into itself. Shuddering, he clung to her like a drowning man in a flood.

Her fingers combed through his hair. Steady even strokes. "Just keep breathing, this will pass."

His head rocked back and forth. "Until they trigger me again to satisfy their curiosity. Shit! I know I said I couldn't stay here. I've changed my mind. I don't want to go back. Please! For pity sake, let me stay here!"

"You're distraught, not thinking right. Don't make decisions now" Her voice was calm, soothing as her repeated motions against his scalp leeched his frantic energy. "Open your eyes, Akihito. Look to the sky."

At first he couldn't. His efforts to even lift his head took too much effort against the imprint of the raging storm. The whole of existence attacked him. Forcing his gasped breathing to ease, at last he lifted his face, tears drenched his cheeks. Bright light pierced the blurred vision. Scrubbing his hand across his eyes, he opened them to a glorious sunset spilling on the horizon. The colors melding from one to the next. Where the light bathed him, warmth soaked into his skin. It felt so … real. He wanted to believe it was real. Like the well within a well when he embraced the delusion. Make this a reality. Stay. Where they couldn't reach him. Couldn't trigger him.

"Just watch and breathe."

Clinging to her like a boat to an anchor, Akihito observed the beautiful sight. His fingers released his grip on her, reaching out into the light, bathed in the colors as the light source sank. By the time the sun flashed out on the horizon and stars began to sparkle in the sky he breathed normally, rubbing his swollen eyelids with the back of his hand. "I needed that. Thank you."

"You miss the sunlight as dearly as I." She leaned over him, smiling somberly. "You were right earlier. You cannot stay here. They need you on the other side." She took his hand, interlacing their fingers.

"I don't want to go back … please, Kiki." He squeezed her hand. "They pulled from diving. I have no purpose, no reason … I can't go back to just existing locked in a tiny cell for years on end without change. This is my only way to escape the hell of my life now."

"By entering the hell that is mine. How ironic." The fingers of her free hand traced circles in his temple. "You are ill, Akihito."

"Why is everyone obsessing over that?"

"Because, you are getting worse. The cuts have worn deeper. They worry about you. They care." She leaned closer. "I care, and that's why I can't let you stay."

"But … "

"A brief respite. I will spare you from the aftermath until the sedative wears off. Then you must go back. You are needed."

His eyes shifted to the starlit sky complete with accurate constellations. "What's wrong with me?"

Her eyes creased, she looked up to the stars. "I don't know the proper terms. But, things are not working right here." Her hand cupped his head. "I can't fix the dark cascade that has formed. This is something you must do. And soon, before it shatters you beyond reason."

The stars winked above them in a surprisingly realistic way. He gazed up past her chin, the strands of her hair brushed against his cheeks. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was lie here motionless. There was nothing for him back in that cell. Here she held his hand, their pulses beat against one another.

But … this wasn't the real world. Their pulses weren't even real here … nothing was. He had to go back.

He had no choice, it was time to face the truth.