The story so far:

Prolog – Mayumi Osaka finds herself in a horrific situation while on a pleasure ride aboard a multimillionaire's yacht.

Chapter I, Subpar – Serena resolves to win the love of someone she admires by altering herself.

Chapter II, Calamity – The wellbeing of Naru's mother, Mayumi, is called into question when her cruise vacation is cut short by a sudden epidemic aboard a luxury liner.

Chapter III, Tryst – Serena's unusual morning ends off with meeting a strange girl and a controversial item in her possession.

Chapter IV, Friction – An interesting item catches Serena's attention at a boutique, and later, she finds herself heatedly defending her contentious decision to take drastic means to change her appearance.

Chapter V, Outsider – Serena cuts class to satisfy a curiosity but instead finds herself wondering how she appears in the eyes of others.

Chapter VI, Reveiller – A disturbing wakeup call has Serena rushing to Naru's house at 3 AM, ending in unspeakable tragedy.

Chapter VII, Fragments – Serena is tormented by her actions and struggles to come to terms with her guilt.

MARIONETTES

Part I: Disingenuous

- VIII -

Encounter

Despite the late hour, the entire Tsukino family was on their way to Furukawabashi Hospital. Serena resented her brother's presence at the moment, whom she felt was not really not that close to Naru, but both parents insisted that he should be present for support. At the very least, Shingo was much further away from her now than he had ever been in the family's previous car - a cramped, uninteresting kei car with a typical yellow licence plate. It had been amongst the first things her dad had replaced after changing jobs. Serena was thankful that their new car, adorned with a white licence plate, was far prettier - and more importantly, roomier - than their previous one. There was always ample room between and her brother in the back seat now, though it never did seem like quite enough.

Distressed, Serena pressed her forehead against the cool window, no longer enraptured by the new vehicle's gray leather interior. Her concerns were much more unpleasant now. As the reflections of the streetlights raced past, each one as featureless as the faces that populated her distorted memories of the last two days, she wondered what she would even say at the hospital. Any happiness she might otherwise have felt over the relief that her friend had survived her battle against the wither was preemptively smothered by the lone act she had committed. It seemed inevitable that in a short while, she would be seeing Naru for the first time after having killed her mother. It was a sickening realization. She had tried to avoid becoming involved in this visit when her parents had come to wake her from her feigned sleep, yet even when overwhelmed by guilt, Serena knew she was obliged to play the role of a supportive friend - which up until a few days ago, she had always been. It would have been suspicious for her not to want to see Naru. Thus, despite her reluctance, she had gotten ready surprisingly quick - not just for herself, but for her mother, whose tender devotion to the sickly girl could likely confuse strangers into believing that she was Naru's actual mother.

In the light of her room, as she had stripped down once again, Serena had been appalled at the bruises that mottled her upper body. Her sides and back, along with her forearms, were a murky mess of blue and yellow, with purple and black thrown in for good measure. Had her mother truly not seem them when she had escorted her to her bed? Serena was immeasurably grateful to have thrown on a long sleeve shirt before passing out on the balcony. If Ikuko had noticed even but a single blemish, she would have thoroughly checked her body all over. However would she explain all the markings to her mother? Other questions would be asked of her, ones she would not be able to answer without incriminating herself. Thankfully, Mayumi had not made contact with Serena's face, which would have led to bruising she would not be able to hide. It was one of the few things Serena could actually be thankful for, given the circumstances. For now, her acts on that night remained a secret ... but would that end tonight?

There was so much Serena did not know, but part of her dreaded learning the answers to her burning questions. Had Naru heard the fight? Even though Naru had been completely unresponsive, Serena had heard of comatose patients and epileptics who were entirely aware of their surroundings, despite their apparent unconsciousness or seizure. After she decapitated Mayumi, when she had pried apart her friend's eyelids, had Naru seen her? If so, just how could Serena ever make the case to her best friend that she had somehow been justified in killing her mother?

I was scared.

Too many questions. Too fearful of the answers.

Every moment they got closer to the hospital, the stronger the urge to jump out the moving vehicle and avoid the situation altogether. A harsh tumble along the asphalt might even fool everyone else about the bruises on her body. Unfortunately, the child safety lock was engaged, altogether thwarting that escape route.

Naru, like every other victim of the wither, had been under quarantine until proven that she was not a threat to public health - despite the little good that precaution had done for her mother. The first wave of people to catch the wither had died almost in their entirety. When the cruise that Mayumi Osaka had boarded was recovered, those people had been withered for days before they received any medical aid. When it finally came, there were too few resources to contend with so many victims in critical condition. The wither victims that had recently begun to appear throughout Tokyo had dramatically improved survival rates for those who were not already at risk due to age or prior health complications. Nevertheless, there was no shortage of nihilists and alarmists declaring this to be the birth of a new pandemic, with many neighbouring and distant countries already closing their doors to international flights from Japan. A smaller contingent of voices was vociferously adamant that this new illness was an engineered act of war. Serena did not care which of the two it was, all she wanted was for it to be eradicated before any more of her friends or family succumbed to it. For all she knew, Mayumi had already passed it on to her and it was incubating in her body, readying itself before attacking those around her. After all, both Naru and Mayumi Osaka had contracted the wither and she had made physical contact with both of them. Was she now a veritable time bomb? The very thought of this possibility made her chest itch. A perfunctory scratch served as her placebo, but it did little to exterminate the image of eggs incubating in her lungs.

As they neared their destination, Ikuko explained that Naru was now in general care and would probably be discharged soon, as space was limited in the wards. The fact that she had no relatives in the city or adjacent prefectures might allow her to stay for longer, if needed. Where she would go afterward, that was a different matter altogether, however.

The modest exterior of the five-story Furukawabashi Hospital was nothing like large hospitals in other parts of Tokyo. The beige walls of the unassuming edifice were drab. A short, unremarkable hedge bordered the west side of the building, which the Tsukinos drove past as Kenji wound around to the south side of the building to descend into the underground parking.

The darkness of the parking garage was a stark contrast to the intense brightness of the fluorescent lights in the interior of the hospital. The jump from one extreme to the other hurt Serena's eyes and she had to squint for some time before they adjusted to the intensity. This annoyance did little to change her perception of hospitals. She hated them. They all looked too... sterile, both from the outside and inside. This hospital was a prime culprit. Just as the building's exterior was unadorned, its interior seemed like nothing but bare teal walls marked only by numbered doors and hand sanitizer dispensers every few meters. It did nothing to shake Serena's perception that hospitals were dreary places for the old and sick. She wanted nothing to do with any of them.

It had been years since any of them had set foot in this hospital. Yet, Serena's desire to leave as quickly as possible was being realized by Ikuko, who wasted no time in traversing the hospital's labyrinthine corridors. She knew exactly where to go, and took the lead while the rest of the family fell behind her. For Serena, it was unusual to see her mother, the diminutive housewife, leading them around in public. It was odd, but given that both Tsukino siblings had been birthed at this very hospital and their mother had taken care of them on their first days in the hospital's maternity ward, it only made sense that she would know the way around.

As the family of four walked through the halls, the incredible silence that enveloped the hospital was apparent. The quietude was broken only by resounding footsteps on the hard vinyl floors, the occasional coughs from patients and those waiting to be seen, and the hushed chatter of nurses, paramedics and doctors.

While Ikuko and Kenji marched with undivided attention, both Tsukino children craned their heads as they walked by rooms with open doors - not that there was anything interesting to see; all the rooms were fitted with the same periwinkle cubicle curtains that reached half a meter off the floor and blocked any view of their interior. In the rare instances where the curtains were not closed for privacy, only the foot of the hospital beds were visible. One thing was certain, though - Ikuko had not exaggerated when she stated that there was little available room in the wards. No doubt, the hospital would be all too eager to discharge Naru.

Before long, after winding through a series of seemingly indistinguishable hallways with identically dressed staff, the family met up with the doctor in charge of Naru's care, who greeted them somberly. He was an elderly man, short and with a thin frame. His square glasses seemed too big for his head and the white coat he wore matched his thinning hair and faded eyebrows. Serena surmised that he had been the one to speak with her mom on the phone, as the two were very short on pleasantries and immediately dove into a detailed conversation about Naru's condition.

"We were surprised that she regained consciousness as quickly as she did," the doctor stated, the pace of his words matching that of his slow footsteps. "Some of the people who caught this illness on the cruise have not been so fortunate, you know."

"Yes, many have already died."

"That's all they talk about on the news," Kenji added.

"Yes, of course," the doctor nodded his head feebly. "But what few of them bother to mention is that of those who awaken after being inflicted with the illness, many are left brain-dead. Guess that bit of truth doesn't garner as high ratings as an increasing death toll. Yet the fact still remains that so far, no victims that we know of have recuperated from their vegetative state."

Her parents stopped walking immediately at the mention of those words. No doubt, they were thinking similar thoughts as she was. Naru... brain dead? The chilling possibility had not occurred to her. Her best friend, confined to be forever emotionless, thoughtless, and able to meet only the most basic functions? The thought of never sharing a joke or story with her friend terrified her. It seemed like an unimaginably cruel punishment.

Well, at least she won't snitch.

Immediately, Serena was aghast that she had even uttered that phrase, even if it was only in her mind. Had she not made Naru's life bad enough that she also selfishly rooted for her to be a vegetable too?

"Is there anything less dignified than a combined, permanent cognitive and physical impairment?" Shingo wondered out loud, never shy to show off his vocabulary, particularly around adults. He had made it a habit to outshine his sister publicly and Serena hated him for it. She was glad when none of the adults had even bothered to acknowledge his comment.

"What're you saying, doctor?" Ikuko asked, her voice noticeably shaken. She was worried. It seemed this information had not been presented to her over the phone.

"... is she ...?" Kenji hinted at the question that was on all of their minds. The gravity of the question and its impending response were difficult to stomach.

The doctor paused to raise his hand as if to swat away any concerns. "Do not worry. She's lucid, it seems," the physician smiled. "She's a very lucky girl, she is," he declared. "Most others, well... they've just died or woken up only to have their families wish that they had."

"Please, doctor," Ikuko waved her hand, signaling that she did not want to hear of any more tragedy. Mayumi was dead and that was already one death too many for her to handle.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you," the old man apologized. "I only wanted to underscore how fortunate Naru has been. It could have been on account of her genes - that's where the science of it lies. Yet, some people believe in luck. Others, divine intervention. Whatever the case, she is fortunate," he reiterated, his caveat meant to assuage any affront to whatever they chose to believe.

Serena felt a deep sense of disgust brewing in her stomach. Divine intervention? Was the doctor a macabre comedian? Her hands were the bloody hands of a murderer, not those of an anointed saint. There's nothing 'fortunate' about what I've done to Naru, Serena rebutted the doctor's assertion.

The adults all resumed their walk down the hall in unison and the children followed suit, before coming to a stop in front of Room 106. The solid wood door was closed, but all of them knew what awaited them inside. Serena wished the door never to open. It was cowardly, but she did not care.

The elderly physician put his wrinkled, liver-spotted hand on the doorknob and leaned in toward the family before opening the door. "Just so you know," he stated softly, "the police have also been notified that Naru has awakened. We were asked to notify them if young Ms. Osaka regained consciousness, you see. The... circumstances surrounding her mother's death are carefully being looked into. No doubt that they have many questions for her."

"It's a terrible thing that happened," Kenji lamented. "For her to lose her mother like that…"

A surprised look gave the doctor's otherwise equanimous face some liveliness. "Oh... so you know about the investigation then?" the doctor asked earnestly. "I didn't know that the homicide detectives had already spoken to you."

"Homicide?" Ikuko repeated, as though she were unsure if she had heard correctly. The look on Kenji's and Shingo's faces revealed a similar look of disbelief.

Her father eyed the doctor with befuddlement. "I was commenting on the inadequate quarantine that led to Mayumi's condition going undetec-"

"-what do you mean, 'homicide'?" Ikuko reiterated, cutting off her husband. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. "She was... murdered?!" she asked, her voice no longer a whisper but a brash expression of shock instead.

Serena panicked. A sharp dagger of fear burned into her chest. Or was it the sting of a shard of glass? If the doctor knew, then the police were definitely well on their way in constructing a case for murder. Were they already onto her?

"Oh, dear. I'm... I'm terribly sorry," the doctor apologized. "I... thought you already knew," his stammering betraying his hitherto stoic composure.

"Homicide? Are you certain?" Kenji inquired, evidently still trying to come to terms with the declaration that their close friend had been murdered in her own house, while her daughter had been present.

The doctor waved his hand downward, as if trying to silence a child. Clearly, he wanted to contain this bit of information he had carelessly let out. "Yes. But, please, I've already said too much," he defensively drew up his hands, indicating a reluctance to share any more information. "You may speak to the police about it when they arrive, if you so wish. The detectives are already on their way."

The expression on her parent's faces indicated that neither of them were pleased with the obfuscation of details regarding a police investigation. They had already been in contact with the authorities several times since Mayumi's passing, and their silence over the investigation felt dishonest. It suddenly made sense why the authorities had decided to hold onto the body of the deceased.

Shingo and Serena observed their parents, whose dissatisfaction was apparent. The doctor sensed the parents' discontent and felt troubled over having obscured the truth. "I apologize for not mentioning this on the phone earlier. However, I'm sure you will agree that their investigation is of utmost importance. It needed to be kept secret so as to not jeopardize its integrity."

Ikuko recomposed herself, knowing that she had to set a strong, stoic example for her children. "If what you've just told us is indeed true, then I sure hope they catch the scoundrel who's responsible," Ikuko stated with conviction, without any remorse for the perpetrator. The words cut right into Serena. She had angered her mother countless times before with lousy test scores and report cards, but this was different. There was something about the scorn from her mother that hurt profoundly. The intense guilt Serena had barely been able to dam suddenly rushed to the surface in a deluge of disgrace. She felt hot and was sure she was reddening. All she could do to hide her remorse was to stare at the floor and wish becoming invisible. The mixture of guilt and shame were already becoming too much to bear and she was not even in the same room as Naru yet.

"We'd like to see Naru now," Kenji stated with dry, paternal authority.

"Yes, of course," the doctor bowed and complied obsequiously. "Poor little girl has no one to care for her now," he lamented, turning the doorknob slowly. "She will be glad to see you, for sure."

It was true, Serena realized. Naru's parents were both dead and she had her best friend to thank for half of that loss.

"I know it is a difficult time for all of you, but do remember that although things seem bleak now, even grave matters such as these do work themselves out," the doctor consoled them halfheartedly. His bedside manner was cliche at best, but at least he was trying. "The best we can all do now is co-operate with the police. Please do not be surprised if you have to cut your visitation short upon their arrival."

Ikuko had been particularly set on coddling Naru until she was asked to leave by the hospital staff, but now it seemed that would have to wait. Despite the disruption it would cause in their plans, every Tsukino except Serena, who remained unmoving, nodded in acceptance. With that common understanding, the doctor gently opened the door and waved them in. "Last one on the right."

Serena nervously followed behind her brother and parents, already fearing that Naru would call her out for her crime.

Better fess up to your horrible crime now, murderer.

The criticism was sharp and scathing, but Serena shut out the unpleasant voice, intent on keeping it locked away internally. She had no time for criticism amongst the plethora of questions that raced through her mind with each passing step. Although she had done her best to ignore them, as she neared her friend, it was impossible to quell the madness they wreaked in her mind. How much would Naru remember? How much had she seen and heard? That blood-curdling howl Mayumi had made before collapsing on the floor had surely even awoken neighbours with its terrifying sound. If the death scream had been able to penetrate walls, no doubt Naru would have a recollection of it. Serena dreaded the thought that these could very well be her last moments of freedom before being handcuffed and shamefully carried out of the hospital and into the back of a police car.

At least you won't have to worry about your diet in jail. There was that hateful voice again, taunting her. Where were these sick thoughts coming from? Prison food, now there's something that will hasten your weight loss. The voice had a point. But would Motoki visit her there? She highly doubted it.

Serena situated herself back into the moment, the drab room only marginally more palatable than a bizarre conversation with herself. The room was dimly lit and was covered in varying hues of blue and green, which were said to help with convalescence. It was identical in every way to the countless ones they had passed on their way to this one. Just like those other ones, it was shared between four patients, each of their respective beds sectioned off in a private quadrant by cubicle curtains. The family walked down the common aisle between the quadrants, and hushed step by hushed step, approached the infirm girl.

There was no way out of this situation. The best Serena could do was walk into the room as unassumingly as possible with her head down, hoping it would be enough to conceal her guilt and convey grievance in its stead. 'I can't bear to see her like this,' she could say. It might actually work... Characteristically indecisive and uncommitted, Serena was slow to act and the opportunity for her pretense passed. Her parents and Shingo had already peeled back the curtain and joined the bereaved girl on the other side. For a moment, she stood alone in the aisle, the echo of her mother's merciless judgment still reverberating in her mind above all other concerns. They all hate me, she thought. They want me imprisoned.

Serena was paralyzed with self-loathing. It was numbing. She would have contently stayed out there by herself, but the last thing she needed was for one of her family members to have to retrieve her. Despite her strong disinclination, she took the final steps needed to reach her friend and with a weak grip, pulled back the curtain.

Due to her unwillingness to enter first, as a good friend ought to have done, Serena found herself in a no-win situation; she had hoped to be able to hide behind her parents, but this was not a viable possibility in the cramped quarters. If only all that equipment wasn't next to her, I'd be able to squeeze next to Dad... Her parents occupied the little space on the left side of the hospital bed, and at its right were Shingo and a stand with a hospital tray where the mostly-untouched remnants of a paltry hospital meal remained. The only available space was at the foot of the bed, facing Naru head on. Serena had no choice but to reluctantly take the spot and look upon the deplorable condition of her friend.

A large, white pillow supported Naru, who sat reclined in her drab hospital gown. She was hard to look upon, for what laid there before the Tsukinos was nothing like the girl they had previously known. Naru Osaka, like her mother, had always been cheerful and vivacious. Instead of the sunny girl they all knew, a pallid, unmoving husk stared back at them. Naru's hair, haphazardly spread out on her pillow, seemed dry and listless. It hid her pale, emaciated face, which reflected her sudden loss of weight. Her cheeks, once radiant, round and alight with life, were now dull, sunken and devoid of any vibrance. Evidently, the IV catheter attached to her arm had provided only the most basic nourishment to her nutrition-deprived body.

Stirred by the shuffling about her, Naru awakened from the catnap she had fallen into since coming to. As best she could, Naru greeted all of them with a weak smile, barely raising her head off the pillow. Although her eyes remained half-shut, even through the narrow slits they could all see that the luster had disappeared from them.

Everyone was silent.

"Hey," Serena spoke softly, breaking the uncomfortable stillness. "How're you holding up?" She felt stupid for asking such a question; her atrophied friend had tubes attached not just to her arms, but her nostrils as well. The ventilator that had been her support during critical care had accompanied her here. Despite the apparentness of the answer to her question, Serena knew nothing else to say. The silence was incredibly uncomfortable, almost as much as looking at her sickly friend, who had hitherto always been comely in appearance.

"Been better," Naru replied with a hoarse, raspy whisper.

"Well, the doctors say you're very lucky - not many people have recovered from this illness."

"There's... nothing 'lucky' about this," Naru objected, struggling to make herself heard. "They... told me about my mom. Wouldn't tell me at first, but I kept asking."

"Don't stress yourself, dear," Ikuko tried to assuage Naru's discontent. She placed a soft hand on the weary girl's forehead, gently easing her head back into the plush pillow behind her.

"I've got no one left," Naru said with dismay. There was nothing anyone could say to the contrary. They all knew it to be true - she had no immediate family left. It was the reason why Ikuko and Kenji had taken on the responsibility for arranging the wake in the first place. Another awkward silence fell over them before the bereaved teen spoke again. "I should've just died."

"Don't say such wicked things!" Ikuko admonished her. "Your mom was not one to let things get her down. She wouldn't want you to be like this."

Naru sobbed lightly, tears robbing her body of whatever liquids were still left in it. "Mama's gone," she stated flatly. Her unwillingness to idealize was difficult to contend with. It made comforting words hard to find. "After daddy died, it was just us two. She said she'd never leave me."

She didn't leave entirely. Your mom left a lot of marks for me to remember her by. Serena thought about the bruises that still covered her body and the aches that accompanied her every movement.

"I have... no one."

Serena's father gently placed his hand on Naru's and spoke softly to soothe her. "You've got us."

Serena silently scoffed at the very suggestion. If only they knew... As she contemplated her dark secret, it dawned on her that Naru had not outed her as her mother's killer. She hasn't said anything about me... Could it be that she didn't see me? Or hear me? Does she really not remember? There was a perverse excitement that came with relishing in that possibility. The nefarious deed might have been done, but perhaps she would be able to get away with it after all. She might be able to move on beyond it...

...but Naru never will.

As Serena shook away the unpleasant voice that reminded her of the situation she had put her friend into, Ikuko dabbed at the tears that made their way down Naru's sunken face.

Please, don't stop crying and please don't stop dabbing, Serena urged them both. So long as the orphan was distracted, the need to talk was abated. That's what I've made of her. An orphan. It was such an ugly word. No pleasantness was ever attached to it. Across the world orphans struggled to move beyond the loss of their parents, often finding nothing but roadblocks and dead ends. Japanese foster care institutions were no exception. Of the little Serena knew of them, nothing was charming. There was no shortage of stories of abuse and neglect in those facilities. Would Serena doubly condemn her friend and doom her to live there until she came of age?

"When's the funeral?" Naru spoke from beneath the tissue, bringing Serena back into the present moment. The Tsukino parents glanced at one another uncomfortably, suddenly asked to respond to a question neither of them wanted to answer. Naru looked on, attempting to decipher the glance between Kenji and Ikuko. "What? Did it already go by?" she asked with fear.

It was selfish, but Serena found a shred of relief knowing that she was not the only one struggling with emotions at this moment. What little comfort she found in that, there was no escaping that it had been her actions that had led to this situation. It's all because of me... and that liar.

"No, darling. You haven't missed it. My husband and I have made all the plans for it."

"When is it?"

Again, the Tsukinos parents shared a silent, uncomfortable glance.

"Tell me!" Naru was suddenly hysterical. It was not like her to raise her voice, even less so with adults. It was a surprising show of energy for someone in her state.

"Tomorrow," Kenji informed the weakened child, tenderly clenching her small hand in his.

Naru tried to raise herself up. "I'm coming then," Naru said with resounding conviction. She looked as though she was ready to rip off the catheter and nasal tubes in order to start getting ready for the services.

"You can't!" Serena objected immediately in a knee-jerk type reaction, almost as if she had been waiting for Naru to say as much. Suddenly, all eyes were on her, demanding an explanation. "I mean, you're not in a condition to leave the hospital," she corrected herself.

Naru's eyes had widened and squinted just enough for Serena to know that her friend was glaring at her. "D'you really expect me to miss own mother's funeral?" she asked bitterly, indignant at the very suggestion. She did not need a response from her friend. The rhetorical question had made her point sufficiently clear that she could let her guard down a bit. "It's bad enough I can't remember my dad's," she confessed. "I don't want the same to happen with my mom's."

Serena thought about how tragic that would be. Conducting the ceremony without her present would be a further punishment to Naru, one which they all felt the bereaved girl did not deserve. "The doctors say I can go home whenever I want. I just need an adult to sign for me."

"I will take care of that," Kenji excused himself, slowly inching his way out toward the aisle. There was no telling how complicated the matter might be, now that Naru was an orphan.

"Don't you worry about a thing, dear. He will make sure everything is filled out so you can come to the service."

A wan, bittersweet smile spread across Naru's face. It would be the last time she would ever see her mother. Clearly, she was glad she had awakened from her coma in time not to miss it. How would she had taken it if she had missed it…? How would she have coped?

The feeble smile that had appeared on Naru's dry, cracked lips soon began to curl. Her sudden burst of heavy sobbing took the Tsukinos by surprise. No words had precipitated the crying, leaving them all to derive at their own conclusion about its origins.

"What's wrong, honey?" Shingo and Serena just looked on passively as their mother calmed down Naru, whose tears were difficult to wipe away without dislodging all those delicate tubes connected to her. "You can tell me." Ikuko's voice was gentle and warm. There was a sweet compassion in it that Serena was unaccustomed to hearing. It was not the voice of the mother who yelled in the mornings to wake her daughter out of bed or for her son to stop playing video games and take a shower at night. Ikuko was genuinely and lovingly reaching out to the girl who was her second daughter.

A daughter who actually studies, gets good grades and would make a mother proud.

"I... I don't... don't want to go to an orphanage!" Naru finally wailed from under her arm, which she had been using to keep anyone from looking upon her face. No doubt, the brief glimpse of life Naru had pictured beyond the funeral frightened her. None of them could fault her for it.

Ikuko sat on the edge of the bed and soothed Naru's distress. "Shhh, sweet thing. There's no need to worry. You won't be going to an orphanage."

"They won't let me stay here forever," Naru's muffled voice rebutted.

"We know. But even if they would let you, we wouldn't."

Naru looked up, confused and curious, still partially covering her face. Her eyes were blood red from tears of anxiety and anguish.

"You'll be coming to live with us," Ikuko stated warmly. The news was a boon for Naru, who immediately perked up her head fully, her burden suddenly lighter; it was a bombshell for Serena, who felt infinitely heavier and sicker. A few days ago, having her best friend share a room with her would have sounded like a fantastic idea. Now, her stomach writhed at the very notion of living under the same roof as Naru.

"But you just moved. Your house... you have no spare rooms."

"We'll make all the changes we need to have you living with us."

"Yeah, don't worry. I will sleep on the couch if I have to," Shingo spoke up for the first time with an admirable willingness to inconvenience himself for the comfort of his sister's friend.

"You'd really do that for me?"

"Of course. You're part of our family," Ikuko reassured her. "You and Serena have always been just like sisters, anyway," she said, embracing Naru in a loving hug. "Serena is probably already thinking of sharing her room with you - if you don't mind the mess, that is. Wouldn't you enjoy that?" she turned to her daughter, whom she noticed had remained quiet throughout the majority of the visit.

Go on, tell the truth. Wouldn't you just love that?

"Yes... I would."

More lies.

Naru's parched lips cracked a timid smile. Shingo and Ikuko relished the moment of brief optimism. Although nothing had actually yet been done, it felt like something important had been accomplished. Despite the situation, there was a smile on everyone's face - even Serena had managed to force one to fit in. They all sat in a silence for some time before the curtain moved again. However, it was not Kenji who had returned from making arrangements for Naru's departure. Instead, it was two gentlemen in grey suits. They introduced themselves as the detectives assigned to the case of Mayumi Osaka, Toshio Wakagi and his partner. Serena did not catch the latter's name, as she was too busy noting the resemblance Toshio had with Motoki. He's a lot like him, actually... He was the younger of the two detectives, perhaps in his late twenties, Serena reasoned. The detective was tall, handsome and spoke softly, like her muse, but whereas Motoki had a cool, messy hairdo, Toshio's was more tamed and professional. It was faded on the sides and long on the top, gently brushed up and styled to the side.

His partner, who was at least two decades older, was still a relatively handsome man with salt and pepper hair, with a touch of wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Judging on their mannerisms, it seemed Toshio was the leader of the two, which was somewhat strange, given that he was the younger one.

"We're sorry to intrude. Truly. We know it's a difficult time."

"No, no. Your presence is most welcome, detectives," Ikuko stated.

"We have some questions we'd like to ask Mayumi's daughter," Toshio stated plainly. He said the words so matter-of-factly, Serena could only wonder how many times he said them during his day.

"Yes, but of course. We'll wrap up quickly, if you'll give us a moment," Ikuko replied. The two men nodded and left momentarily so the family could say goodbye in privacy. Serena's mother turned back to Naru and placed her thumb on the girl's bony cheek, the rest of her hand caressing the side of her face. "There will be a final viewing for your mother tomorrow afternoon, before the burial. We will pick you up early so you can be there for both."

"Thank you," Naru took comfort in those words. Knowing that she would not miss either ceremony allowed her to relax, if only a little.

"Now, these men are here to ask you some important questions," Ikuko said as though she were speaking to a very young child. "You need to be honest with them." Serena's mother could not bear to mention the words 'murder' or 'homicide,' fearing that the news had not yet been broken to the bereaved teenager. She did not have the heart to be the one to make the revelation. "Tell them everything you can."

Serena had long considered herself a coward. She was afraid of spiders, the dark, scary movies, and roller coasters, among a hundred other things. She had been afraid countless times throughout her life, but no utterance had ever scared her as much as any of those things. Until now. 'Tell them everything you can.' Tonight, it would not be Mayumi and her damning eyes haunting her dreams, it would be those five words that threatened to reveal her secret.

Ikuko kissed Naru on the forehead and hugged her one final time before leaving. Shingo hugged Naru as well, muttering something softly in her ear before exiting. Serena was last, knowing that she had been suspiciously quiet around her best friend. "I'm really sorry for what you're going through," she said earnestly. They were the most honest words she had spoken in the last two days, although they could just as easily have used them to express condolences for herself and her own situation.

Naru remained silent and it troubled Serena. Did she recall Serena's presence that night or their phone conversation? Had she waited until they were alone to confront her? Had she been waiting all along for the perfect moment to announce that she would now ruin her life, as she had hers?

"Thank you... for... being a good friend," Naru spoke with difficulty. "Mama would be… happy to know you're looking after me like this."

Serena forced a meager smile, fully knowing that Mayumi Osaka's final goal in life had been to kill her, rather than to compliment her. "Yeah," she replied instead, the false pretenses corroding her conscience. She did not know if she would be able to hold off the truth from Naru forever; she felt an overwhelming force pushing outward, yearning to tear her apart at the seams. Was that how guilt felt? If so, the burden of a guilty conscience was a tortuous existence that she did not know she could withstand.

One of the officers cleared their throats from behind the curtain. "Miss," he interrupted. Evidently, he was eager to begin the interview.

"I've... I've got to go," Serena motioned in feigned helplessness, glad to have an excuse to depart. Naru feebly raised the fingers on one hand while her palm remained flat on the bed. It was the weakest goodbye wave Serena had ever seen. "Bye," Serena excused herself, not making any actual physical contact with her friend. It must have seemed awkward, but there was no second take. She just continued on, brushing past the two detectives in the narrow aisle. Before leaving the room, Serena glanced back a final time. As the two men disappeared behind the curtain, she feared the effect Naru's words would have on her freedom. Although Naru seemed unaware about her actions on the night she became hospitalized, there was no telling what memories the detective's questioning would unearth. A phrase, a word, a sound, even a smell, could trigger a cascade of unwanted, forgotten or repressed memories to come bursting forth. Naru's seeming obliviousness brought Serena no comfort. Tonight could very well be her last night sleeping on her own bed.

The four members of the Tsukino family headed toward the underground parking as briskly as they had walked in from it. As they traversed the long corridors, Kenji explained that although Naru's medical condition was stable, she would have to be weaned off the respirator overnight and have blood work done to ensure her oxygen levels were normal once she was breathing on her own. Apparently, the doctors were quite confident that she would return to normal. Yet, even with a full recovery, Naru's life as she knew it had ended; it disappeared on the night her joie de vivre was ripped from her, leaving nothing but a shell of a girl. Although the four Tsukinos knew that while Naru had indeed been lucky to survive the wither, conflating her medical stability with a return to normalcy in her life was foolhardy. None of them mentioned it; they would have to keep positive if they wanted to lift up the spirit of the bereaved girl.

Orphan.

Serena had not thought of the word before tonight, yet it now occupied all of her thoughts - if it were not for her family in front of her, whom she followed blindly down the maze of sterile corridors, she would have been lost. Not even the strong smell of antiseptic wafting about in the halls could snap her out of her daze. For anyone looking on, she was sure to seem like a sheep mindlessly following the rest of its herd. Shingo kindly held the elevator door open for her, as she trailed around the corner. Serena was the last to enter and also the last to leave after its descent. She wondered why there was no button labelled 'hell,' which was where people who did bad things like her were said to go. She had never given the idea much credence before, but if it were true, then why delay the inevitable?

Better to skip the agony in the middle and just get it all over with...

"Woah!" Shingo broke the solemn silence unexpectedly, excitedly jumping ahead of the family as they walked down the rows of parked cars. "Check out that sweet car!" He pointed out an immaculate, red luxury sports car, which was hard to miss in between all of the other vehicles, and made them seem infinitely more pedestrian in its posh presence. The Ferrari had been freshly waxed and polished, highlighting its sleek curves of its cherry red finish. The bends and dips of its seductive body transformed the unforgiving glare of the fluorescent lights above into a magnificent aura. They could all effortlessly see into the vehicle's grey leather interior, as the suspension on the car was extremely low. The undercarriage of the car practically kissed the pavement below.

Not one to be normally interested in fancy automobiles, even Kenji was impressed by the classic Ferrari Testarossa 512 TR which stood in front of him. "I always wanted a fancy car," he rued, unfulfilled.

"Can't you buy one now?"

Their father chuckled. "No, I don't make that kind of money... yet. One day, perhaps," he fantasized. Serena paused for a moment to think of Kenji as someone other than her dad. It was difficult to conceive, but surely he had been like her once - young and with a vision for his future. Whatever those dreams had been, life in one the world's most expensive cities with a wife and two kids had clearly left him short of reaching many of his goals of conspicuous consumption that he had set out for himself as a young man, before the thinning hair and extra pounds around his waist. Serena observed that although decades had probably passed since the conception of those dreams, they still maintained a timeless allure for him.

"Well, I'm going to own a car just like this when I grow up," Shingo replied, eyeing his own reflection on the hood of the Ferrari.

"If you work hard enough, sure. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to. Just make sure to start saving up early."

Despite the hopeful conversation spurred on by the luxury vehicle, Serena did not turn her head to even as much as glance at the Ferrari beyond what she had initially seen of it out of the corner of her eye when she walked past it. She just did her best to keep pace with her mother, who paid no attention to the males of the family as they continued to talk about future plans for expensive items, while she walked toward their humble family car.

Serena did not want to think about what was happening in Room 106, but despite her best efforts, she was too anxiously preoccupied with whether the detective's questioning would lead to her incrimination. That was a worrisome thought that trumped anything and everything else. The tightness in her chest constricted her airways; it felt as though her entire thorax was caught in a vice. She had to work hard to mask the sound of her constrained breathing with the fall of her footsteps, lest she wanted her mother to ask why she was wheezing all of a sudden. Hiding her short, spastic, shallow breaths became even harder once inside the confined space of their vehicle's interior. The light purr of the hybrid engine was no accomplice, as it scarcely made a sound.

While the Tsukino men daydreamed all the way home about leading lavish lifestyles, all Serena could do was stifle an onset of hyperventilation as she contended with the dreaded possibility that by questioning her friend, those detectives would have Naru stumble on something that would implicate her. After all, she did have a late night conversation with Naru, shortly before Mayumi Osaka had been brutally decapitated in her own home. Police had access to phone records… The more she thought about it, the more she realized that it was only a matter of time before their attention would turn to her.

Did you hear Shingo make plans for his future? He can do that because unlike you, he won't be locked up. You'll be in jail. There'll be no need for plans.

The wormy tendrils of uncertainty coiled around Serena's chest and squeezed tighter. She was not sure if she was even breathing anymore at this point.

Naru's telling the officers everything.

Right.

Now.

A.N. – Loved it? Hated it? Doesn't matter! Please leave a comment! (It goes a long way to keep me motivated!) Thanks! ^_^

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