Artisan
Chapter 4
.
.
It took a few days, but the painting was finally starting to come to life. He couldn't work on it for hours on end after all. His fingers got stiff holding the brushes or his head began to spin from the fumes. It was a pity, because what he loved about making art the most were the paints but the paints would clog his lungs and brain and kill him if he let them.
So more time was generally invested in sketching ideas on papers, filtering them, and transferring the final charcoaled sketches onto canvas. Or the preliminary work for even those: seeking inspiration, getting the fresh air his lungs ached for after being in the basement with the paints for so long (but the sunlight would ruin the tones, and so the dark and stuffy basement it was). And then the occasionally boring stuff he'd had no mind at all for until he'd married Aiko – he'd had hired help before that. Organising the paintings and galleries to exhibit them in, garnering interest, and actually making a living out of his hobby.
Aiko did about the same with her mystery novels, only it was with papers and pens and later a word processor, and she'd commission him to make the covers for her and really, the money was only exchanged in writing because they were married and the money went into the same home after all. Same went for her role as his agent or secretary or a mix of both of those things.
That was their work-life balance, and for the most part and quite a bit of luck, it worked.
.
Keiichi could finally stand without buckling in pain by Tuesday afternoon, so Ichiro found himself helping, then supervising, him around the living room. Not the stairs yet. Those would be dangerous with crutches and it was pretty painful on the knee still to try and crawl up them. But if he could manage the living room – and he did, though his remaining good leg had to keep on taking breaks and his armpits got sore pretty quickly – he could go outdoors for a bit.
He went on Thursday. By the following Monday, he was back in school and by then he was a little tired of his crutches, but grateful to be out of the house and moving about on his own.
He was still sleeping on the couch, because trying to get upstairs on crutches at night was still a very bad idea.
.
Rika was relieved to see a cheerful Keiichi enter the classroom, even if it was a cheerful Keiichi with crutches. Satoko scowled though – albeit it was the sort of scowl that said she hadn't realised he was coming back today (because the Maebaras hadn't mentioned anything to anyone except Rena who had his backpack slung over one shoulder) and she hadn't set up her usual traps for him.
Not that it would have been very fair, considering he couldn't dodge any of them. But that didn't stop her ranting about it, loud enough for the pair at the door to hear her and not stopping until Keiichi grinned, ruffled her hair, and commented on how nice it was to hear she missed him.
Which stopped that particular rant, but began a new one on how she most certainly did not miss an idiot like him. But knowing how Keiichi had quickly wormed his way into her heart, very close to the spot reserved for Satoshi, Rika just smiled. And Keiichi seemed aware of that fact as well - or aware enough. The non-biting words did not bite, and that was the important thing, in the end.
Since Keiichi's teasing had been misunderstood in at least one world and the catalyst to Shion's madness… But Shion wasn't here, not a player in this world and therefore safe, safe in her faraway all girl's school when the curse of Oyashiro plays out in this time's Watanagushi festival.
Though whatever happened to Shion in such worlds, she didn't know. Her entire family dead, except for her. A family she both loved and despised. Would she press on, taking the mantle of the head of the Sonozaki family and the Yazuka that her grandmother and father both left behind? Or would she run from that, discard those things and start a new life - or not.
And of all those who died in the Hinamizawa Disaster - for she had no doubt the disaster would take place as soon as (or even before) her death was discovered - how many of them would wander restlessly, aching for their regrets, their dreams, their still living family members and the questions that now no-one could provide an answer for? If any of her friends survived, one question would be the manner of her death, she was sure? Their games club would allow nothing less. Their friendship would allow nothing else as well -
But even if they did discover the truth in one timeline or the other, she was already cast out of that world and into a new one, into a new attempt. She could not gain that information. Could make no use of that information. It was unfair that the worlds went on without her and she was the one who could move between them, but also unfair how their deaths weren't set in stone but hers were… And unfair too, that there were other deaths than hers set in stone: the victims of Oyashiro's curse.
Keiichi moved in slowly, sitting in Mion's original place and Mion took Keiichi's. 'No excuse to not help with my homework today,' she grinned, and she had a point. Usually, it was Keiichi who turned his chair around to explain things. For the next few weeks, Mion (and perhaps Rena, taking turns) would turn their chairs instead.
That's Mion for you, Rika grinned. Finding a solution to everything.
'But not this,' was Hanyu's reply, though neither she nor Rika had ever asked that of their friends. 'Not if you can't find the answer with all these worlds, all these reincarnations…'
And Hanyu had a point there. Rika was the one with the advantage, the one who had more information at her disposal than even the unseen enemy she fought. For there was an enemy, and that enemy was a human because only the human will could create such an absolute outcome as inescapable fate.
And yet she still hadn't found the mastermind, or even the way to save her life.
She had, at least, learnt a great deal more about the Hinamizawa Syndrome than she had in her original life. Then, she'd naively allowed samples to be taken from her body without seeking the results. Allowed that until the third world where she realised her parents death was directly after they refused to allow her to be a sample for Irie Institute any longer - and she stayed their specimen afterwards, because Satoko had been sinking even then, and of all her friends, Satoko was the one who was always at risk, who she always had to watch.
But that should be okay, because Satoko diligently took her shots even if she didn't know the truth of them and those shots had kept her at level three even as the world descended into madness around her. But not when something close to her strikes. Her death, perhaps, but she was never around to see that. Keiichi did it once, in his own parasite-induced haze when he'd killed her uncle in front of her. Made her scream and scream and scream until she'd run like a mad-child into the forest. Rika had never seen her again in that world, but she'd have probably died there alone, tumbled down a cliff or mauled by a wild animal or scratched out her own vessels until she bled out.
She couldn't get many spares of those anyway, not without stealing them and she couldn't possibly break into Irie Institute. Their security was so complicated, partially because they came from Tokyo and partially because such sensitive things were kept on the site. She still didn't know nearly enough about that place. And the absent needles would surely raise suspicion It would be easier to prevent the activation of that syndrome entirely - or get them to Irie Clinic somehow if that proved impossible so they could start a regimen. Assuming Doctor Irie recognised the symptoms early enough. He consistently missed them with Satoshi and she doubted it was on purpose, considering.
He either loved the two Hojou children very much, or he was unnaturally cruel and a good actor to hide his apathy again and again - but no, she couldn't think like that. Doctor irie and Nurse Takano were people she had to trust because they were the ones with the vaccine and her only hope of suppressing the Syndrome. But they needed more time. She knew that. They knew that. So the objective for now was for both she and Nurse Takano to survive the June of Showa 58, so they could eliminate the curse once and for all.
But Nurse Takano was so...troublesome. Things tended to go about the same with her. She'd come up with all sorts of theories about the truth to the curse of Oyashiro for fun - because, as a scientist and nurse at Irie Institute, she already knew the truth few others did - and spread them. And someone - or several someones - would begin believing them. People like Satoshi who were sinking into the depths of the parasite in their mind. And each of her friends had fallen for it at least once as well and it wasn't even always one of them. And in the world where she'd tried to tell the truth, a riot not dissimilar to the dam wars had broken out.
And she was not her father. She could not placate them, calm them. Not even the people's love for the priestess and reincarnation of Oyashiro had been enough to calm the madness. She assumed that, in that world at least, that mass hysteria was directly responsible for her death.
She didn't try that again. She tried Doctor Irie and Nurse Takano… and Tomitake Jiro as well. They were non-negotiable. Losing all of them meant she'd lose the game even if she survived Showa 58 because what bard could keep the parasites in their minds asleep for eternity?
Not for the first time, she wondered what would happen if she did survive in such a June of Showa 58.
But it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot. There may be nothing now to trigger any of them, or nothing she knew, but the Hinamizawa Syndrome was not one person's will and so it was malleable, and it would be far too naive to think another opportunity wouldn't come to trigger at least one of them. She had no way of finding out whether that woman or man or both of them had been caught by the Yazuka, or would return to Hinamizawa to prey on either Rena or Satoko or both of them. Troublesome people, that man and woman. Triggers to the parasite in four of her friends - Rena and Satoko directly, Keiichi and Shion indirectly. Four worlds that man and woman had caused tragedy in. For worlds out of the four in which they appeared in Showa 58 and she would watch for them. Watch very carefully indeed.
And watch for Shion and Keiichi as well, because her other trigger had been him. But there was no preventing Shion's leaving Hinamizawa. That happened far too long ago; she never went back that far. And did Shion's impromptu visits help or hinder her? Who could really say. It was the same with Rena. Too late to stop her mother from going to Ibaraki. Too late to stop those windows at the school from shattering, or the bones in those boys. Too late to stop the nails and knives, both like sharp sharp claws, cutting her arms and almost killing her, until her father whisked her back to Hinamizawa where the parasite sensed the queen in Rika's mind and slumbered once more.
Though maybe it would have been better if she was like Satoko and dependent on the injections. But even that wasn't a permanent fix. Wouldn't be. That one world, with Satoko's uncle returning and Keiichi succumbing to the parasite, had proven it. They needed the cure. The cure that wouldn't appear in Showa 58, not nearly soon enough to eliminate the myths of Oyashiro's curse.
And if someone - or multiple someones - continued to take advantage of Oyashiro's curse, even a cure wouldn't be enough. But at least it would prevent the prophesied disaster: the widespread madness that would descend with the queen carrier's death, when every parasite awoke as a level five organism and devoured its host's brain and reasoning. Mass insanity the likes of which she could not imagine and would never see unless she lived long enough to have a female child and passed on her status as queen carrier to her. And maybe not even then. So many things could happen. Death when not by the will of someone else was such a fickle thing.
'Rika.' Hanyu.
She was thinking too much again. One thing at a time. Keiichi was safe for now. All her friends were safe for now. She had to keep an eye on them, yes, but now it was time to move on to phase two: preventing Oyashiro's curse from striking in the upcoming Watanagushi Festival - and that meant saving Nurse Takano and Tomitake Jiro.
.
Things had settled back into their normal rhythm...almost. Keiichi had gone back to school that day, but on crutches and Ichirio had carried him part of the way. And picked him up as well. But aside from that, things went as normal. Husband and wife chatted over the breakfast table, with Aiko telling him all about the nurse she'd made friends with and the stories about Hinamizawa she'd told about.
Frightening tales, honestly, but Aiko was a mystery writer and often that coincided with horror or the supernatural or both of them. Her books, at least, and he'd never needed to look for a book without that trait. But being bound to a village, unable to escape? That took country loyalty to a whole new level.
And, of course, those stories were inspiring his next series of sketches. Inevitable, really. And oddly appropriate, though he was sure they would be shallow and superficial in the face of those people who'd grown up on those tales. Perhaps he should ask around - or ask an opinion later. Perhaps he shouldn't paint a curse after all. Would that be disrespectful to the gods the Hinamizawa folk worshipped?
The basement was dark, with the swinging light bulb giving only as much light as he needed and preserving the colours otherwise. He didn't need the colours that day, sketching on paper as he was, but he needed the darkness, the atmosphere. But there was something too concrete about his sketches. Too...ordinary, too basic, too plain.
He stood up and switched off the lights. The basement descended into complete darkness and he felt around for his pad and charcoal and began to sketch again.
Sound was amplified like that: his breathing, the hollowness of wind moving outside the walls, the grating of charcoal on paper and the slight rustle as his sleeves brushed against it and the wood of his desk. And, after a while and when the symphony had settled into a monotone, footsteps above his head.
Probably Aiko, he told himself, and why wouldn't it be Aiko? She was home, cleaning the house and especially the living room, now that Keiichi had given it a well-deserved break. And yet his pulse quickened anyway, irrationally. He gritted his teeth and ignored the sound, and the charcoal dug into his fingertips.
.
That night, the footsteps came again. Aiko slept soundly beside him. Keiichi was downstairs and on crutches. His sleep-clogged eyes caught the lamp light under the door when he sat up and nothing else. The curtains were closed tight against the shallow of the crescent moon.
And the footsteps were still there. Wandering somewhere. Upstairs? Downstairs? He slipped from his bed and out the door as quietly as he could to avoid waking Aiko, and then down the stairs when the upper level was clear. Nothing in the kitchen except shadows from the light outside (and one day they'd remember to get some material to make curtains for there as well), and the lamp in the living room.
And something shifting. He froze in the doorway. Froze until Keiichi's head popped up, hair tousled and voice heavy with sleep. ''Tou-san?'
'Go back to sleep.' Ichiro could have hit himself. How silly he was, jumping when he as the one who'd probably woken his son up. There were no footsteps now. Nothing except his son settling back onto the couch. 'Just got up for a glass of water…'
''Kay,' and Keiichi yawned. 'Night 'tou-san.'
'Good night.' And then he madea truth out of his lie and got his glass of water and gulped it down (and was glad Keiichi hadn't been awake enough to question why he simply hadn't used the upstairs bathroom instead) before creeping back upstairs.
The footsteps followed. He froze on the landing. There was no-one behind him - but when he got to his door, Aiko was awake as well, blinking owlishly at him as he settled back down.
'Gomen,' he murmured. 'Didn't mean to wake you.'
For some reason, her answering smile made his skin crawl, before she turned and settled back into sleep.
It took a lot longer for him.