Artisan
Chapter 3

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Though he was now on the train back to Hinamizawa, the fog in Ichiro's head was still present. It seemed to creep into his fingers as well, and the canvas he had leaning on the seat in front of him. Aiko and Keiichi would probably have been holding an end each if they'd come, but now it was spread across their empty seats. He'd called them before he'd left the city at least, to let them know he was coming back and that his mother had packed extra cookies for her incapacitated grandson.

Now he was toying with his charcoal, watching flakes dust the seats and the picture form under his fingertips. It wasn't quite what he had envisioned earlier, but there were no boldly marring lines staring back at him so he kept at it. Art was like that, after all. Never a perfect replication of what was in his mind at the time. And often it told him more than he would have realised on his other merits.

Like that self-decrepitating image he'd been painting in their last days in the city, while talking with the police and counsellors and real estate agents…

He shook his head. That was perhaps the single, most macabre painting of his career. It had sold for a good price, but the circumstances that had led to its formation should never have happened in the first place. And the blame was largely on them, occupied by superficial matters: his paintings, Aiko's stories, Keiichi's studies – they hadn't realised that Keiichi never wanted to spend his entire life studying so hard, never realised how firmly that pressure was crushing him, or how he was letting out, never even thought…

In a way, the sudden improvement of Keiichi's marks had thrown wool over their eyes. Their worries were gone, that Keiichi would eternally struggle with academics and be forced into the same cutthroat world of his parents. And he'd never expressed interest in doing so, either. Enjoyed reading his mother's books well enough – and her inspiration material, but was on the whole too down to earth to believe in curses and mystical fate-controlling forces that tended to creep their way into Aiko's books.

It was a surprising stroke of luck that they met Nurse Takano at the clinic when getting Keiichi's knee sorted out. Nurse Takano was very interested in the occult, and Aiko had found herself a new friend.

Now there was a nicer topic to think about as he sketched…

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Keiichi's Sunday had been a little less entertaining than Saturday. The others had come by in the morning with reading material, a few puzzles and more snacks before heading out to the baseball court. Rena had come by afterwards with a bunch of broken figurines to clean and repair, and Keiichi would have helped a bit with that even if he hadn't had a broken kneecap.

They chatted while they cleaned, and enjoyed the leftover snacks from that morning (because Keiichi couldn't in good consciousness eat all of that when he wasn't even mobile to burn it off). Chatted about Rena and her father, about Aiko and her latest mystery novel –

And then Rena's expression darkened when Keiichi mentioned his mother's interest in the old demon folklore in Hinamizawa. 'Trying to make another one of those occult mysteries,' he explained. 'She says it'll probably feel even more authentic, now that she's living in small country town with deep roots to –'

'Who told you?' Rena interrupted. She sounded surprisingly un-Rena like.

Keiichi blinked. 'Takano-san – the nurse from the clinic – has been telling 'kaa-san all about it. She told me a bit at lunchtime.'

Rena simply frowned. 'Takano-san is an outsider,' she said. 'She doesn't understand that the curse of Oyashiro is real.'

'Curse of Oyashiro?' Keiichi explained blankly.

Rena's expression cleared. 'Oh, she hasn't gotten to that part yet?'

Keiichi shrugged, bemused. 'Maybe, but 'kaa-san didn't mention it.'

'Well then,' and she smiled at him, reaching for a still grimy figurine. 'Remember that Oyashiro's curse is real.'

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It was dark by the time the farmer's cart had dropped him off in front of his home, and with it came a sense of inexplicable relief. Still, there was an itch of something still. Something uncomfortable, just like in the city. As though he was caught between his old life and the new – but why? Why now when they'd been in Hinamizawa for a few months and his wife and son had so seamlessly fit in?

Why had he bothered to go at all? Sure, family was family but his immediate family was his wife and son and when they were grounded, forced to stay, he should have stayed as well. Perhaps it was just that guilt that itched at him. Or a restlessness to add paints and colours to the sketch he'd completed on his way and back. Or maybe he'd gotten addicted to the fresh country air and the city smog had been clogging his lungs without him even noting it.

Or perhaps he was just tired from a long travel and a funeral – both physically and emotionally draining, that – and he needed a good night's sleep or two. And maybe some coffee in the morning.

And a kiss on the cheek from Aiko who opened the door for him when he called, and a "welcome home 'tou-san" from Keiichi, still on the couch. Though he waved a hand – which, from the entrance hall, was all Ichirou could see from the top of the couch.

It made for a comical picture. Ichiro turned his laugh into a cough before replying.

'Are you sick?' There was shuffling and a bit of scrunching (had Aiko or one of his friends slipped him a bag of potato chips – or a few bags, by the sounds of it) before Keiichi's brown hair inched up one arm-rest.

Ichiro came around to save his son the struggle of wriggling up the couch. 'Nah,' he said, 'just tired. You known this old man to get sick?'

'Sure, 'tou-san,' replied Keiichi sceptically. 'Mostly from breathing in all those paint fumes.'

Ichiro ruffled his son's hair. It was a little matted and coarse from his immobile weekend, but he'd only been doing that since they'd moved here. Not since Keiichi was a little kid running all over the place and causing trouble, anyway. Hinamizawa had sort of sent him back to the kid stage, in that aspect. School wasn't too tough and everyone mixed together and were friends. And they walked together and laughed and were comfortable in completely ridiculing themselves at the end of their games. Had startled them the first few times, but Keiichi looked so carefree even with his face beetroot with embarrassment. Carefree and unrestrained in a way he'd lost all too quickly in the city.

''tou-san?' Keiichi asked.

Ichiro realised that he'd allowed the melancholy of his thoughts to slip onto his face. 'You're getting mouthy.' And he ruffled the hair again. But he made sure the relief and pride were both strong in his tone, so Keiichi couldn't misinterpret them. Better to be mouthy than closed off and let things stew as they had, after all.

And Keiichi grinned up at him. 'It's this place.' Of course it was. 'I'm glad we moved here.'

And that was all that mattered, right? He liked it here too. Just needed to find his own little niche was all.

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The night was long. Ichiro tossed and turned beside his wife for a long time before falling asleep, and usually it was the other way. Aiko had her soft bedside lamp and a mystery novel or notes from something or other – notes, this time, by the looks of the worn notebook-like appearance – and she was often reading till late in the night and he'd fall asleep in the faint glow. But she'd turned off the lamp and settled down and he was still tossing and turning and staring into the complete darkness.

And when he did fall asleep, he dreamed. And at first, he hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep. Everything was dark, and there was no moon that night to slip through their curtains and illuminate his wife's splayed hair in bed. Just utter blackness so powerful he could see nothing else at all, and his breathing: harsh, heavy panting –

And footsteps, far away.

Normally, he would have wondered if it was Keiichi getting up to use the bathroom or for a glass of water, but Keiichi was downstairs on the couch and immobile. He had the crutches in reach in case of an emergency, but those were loud and with an entirely different sound than human feet, and Keiichi was still clumsy with them. So it couldn't be Keiichi, and Aiko was still asleep next to him…wasn't she?

He reached out to feel and she wasn't there. And the footsteps came closer.

He realised it was a dream when he managed to tear his eyes open and found sleep still clinging to them, and Aiko mumbling under his touch in the dark bedroom. Because she couldn't have crept back into bed without opening the door, and they'd left a lamp on downstairs for Keiichi and the light would have flittered through.

So a dream. Though it had been unnerving, hearing footsteps without a hint of as to who they belonged to.

He tried to settled down for the rest of the night. If he heard any more footsteps wandering about the house, he ignored them.

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Keiichi wasn't at school on Monday. They were all aware of why, including Chie-sensei who simply gave a few worksheets to Rena to drop off on her way home. And school was remarkably quiet without Keiichi. Chie-sensei spent the most time with the younger students, as usual, though she did explain a few things to Mion and Rena – and Mion looked lost without Keiichi to re-explain things for them. Rena tried, but her explanations were far too abstract to make sense to straight-forward Mion – though Rika found herself thinking she wouldn't mind so much if Rena was the one helping her in her homework when even younger students would join the class (however many years that took). Though it might have been wistful thinking in more than one way. She had to live through June of Showa 58 first, and even if she did, a small village like theirs meant few babies were ever born. It had been four or five years, if she recalled correctly, since any babies had been born in Hinamizawa at all. Rena only had a couple more years of schooling left. And Keiichi and Mion too…

At least Mion, as the heir to the Sonozaki family, would remain in Hinamizawa in preparation for that role. But what would Rena do? She'd stay, after her scare last year, but stay to do what? And Keiichi? Keiichi who wouldn't have spent very long by the time his schooling was done. Would he go to university to study something? Take up an internship at the clinic because he was oh so strangely good with kids (not that Doctor Irie really needed any help). Where would the children growing into adults fit in? Where would the outsiders fit in? Keiichi's parents had brought their professions with them, after all, and that was the only reason why they managed. Openings in remote places like theirs only came with deaths. Keiichi had fit in so seamlessly here, but where would he be in two years?

And he hadn't fit in that seamlessly, she remembered. Those other times where he'd taken Satoshi's bat, even Satoshi's manner of ruffling Satoko's hair… He'd taken Satoshi's place. And maybe that was where he was meant to fit in. Where Satoshi had been. And wouldn't that be a problem in adulthood? The Hojous were the ones who'd advocated for change and they'd been shunned by the village for it.

The day went with her thoughts meandering carelessly.

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After school was club activities…normally. Since Saturday though, they'd been relocating said activities to Keiichi's house. Rena had the stack of homework. Mion had stuff she wanted him to explain as well. Satoko had cooked again and Rika helped her carry them. They weren't bringing a game that day. Mion figured it would be more fun to play with Keiichi's crutches – even though, with his knee still in pain, he was probably going to lose each and every try.

It was all in good fun though. And if it helped get him mobile as well, then why not?

Because you're the reason he's immobile in the first place, her conscience reminded her.

It'll be worth it, the rest of her argued back. If none of her friends succumb to Hinamizawa Syndrome this time, then she'll have proved she can save them all and then all she'll have to prove is that she can save herself as well. And if it turns out she can't, at least they'll have a peaceful life, and a peaceful death.

'It won't go that way,' said Hanyu, as they neared the house. 'It didn't work, Rika.'

She couldn't ask what Hanyu meant out loud in company, but she shot the spirit a questioning glance anyway.

'Don't you see it?' Hanyu asked. 'Look. The madness is already stirring in that house.'

But Rika saw nothing at all, even hyper-alert as Hanyu's warning had made her. Keicihi was still grinning and laughing and being rather grumpy when he lost every game they played with his crutches and pouted adorably as she reached out to pat him on the head. Saw nothing at all as Aiko came in with cookies she said Keiichi's grandparents had sent for him, and some tea. Saw nothing at all as Ichiro came in smelling of paints and grinned at them all before snatching some cookies and a cup of tea and wandering off again.

Where is it? Where is it?

'You're not looking, Rika,' said Hanyu again.

I am! Dammit, I am!

But she could see nothing. Keiichi and Mion arguing about something or other before Keiichi sighed, offered the last cookie to Rena who passed it on to Rika who halved it and gave the other half to Satoko, before opening a textbook and reading the pages they'd presumably covered that day. Not normal, of course, but that was because Keiichi hadn't been bedridden in the couple of months he'd been in Hinamizawa so far. It was the first day since the Maebaras had arrived and settled in that Keiichi had not been at school with them.

There were always signs before level five. Always. And Hanyu said she could see them, so why couldn't Rika?

And why couldn't Hanyu just tell her.

'It's already too late,' said Hanyu behind her.

Of course. She sighed, more than a little irritated as well by that point. Then forced a smile and cute expression on her face when Rena looked over at them. 'Rena's bored,' she said. 'Can Rena help Rika and Satoko with their homework?'

'Sure,' said Satoko brightly, and she dragged up both their books. 'Of course, we can't have this idiot – ' She poked Keiichi in the elbow, and the boy stuck his tongue out in return. Rika and Rena both giggled at the immaturity, and Rika felt her heart lighten.

Maybe Hanyu was just overly suspicious, just mistaken. Maybe there was nothing to see after all.