(A/N): Wow, this feels like a very short chapter...It wasn't very fun to write. It was pretty sad. By the way, Arianna Taniyama - you caught on really quickly! I read your review where you put "Yeah but this doesn't explain the brand, etc" And I thought, "Have I made it too obvious?" But well done :) I am currently writing the next chapter, so hopefully it won't take too long, but it's hard to tell with homework and school. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Morning came, and I woke up, still next to Itsuke's grave. For a blissful moment, I could not remember anything about the previous night and instead lay still, staring at the grave and wondering why I was there.

Then it all came crashing back.

I bolted up right. No one was there…why had I allowed myself to fall asleep? What if the colleague or Saburou had found me, and –

I refused to allow my mind to think of the consequences. No. I stood up, my legs aching, and looked around me. The grave yard was empty. A dim, morning light filtered through the forest, and the air was damp and cold. Shivering, I pulled my dirty jacket tighter around me. My throat felt dry. My head hurt. What would I do now…? What should I do?

Somehow, panic left me, and defeat filled its place. Nothing mattered anymore. There was no way out of this situation. Everyone who I thought was a friend had turned against me. The only person who might be able to help me was Sinead. My siblings had no idea what was happening, and would have no idea what to do if they found out. Sinead's location was completely unknown to me, although she had promised she was coming to Japan. By the time she found me, I would probably be dead.

I staggered forwards, away from the grave, and walked towards the gate. Only one thing was in my mind right now. I left the grave yard, and walked slowly to the main section of Shiroku. Not many people were up, apart from a few early risers who stopped and stared at me as I walked. They had good reason – although I had pulled the hood up again, my clothes were still stained with mud and moss. But I paid hem no heed. Maybe one of the colleague's associates was here. I didn't care. Not right now.

I was surprised to find that shops were still open, or opening, in the village centre. For a second, I realised too late that the place I was looking for might not be here. It was a dim concern that was short-lived; if there was a burial sire here, then the chances were, there would be a flower shop.

Luckily, my assumption was correct. A small flower shop had just opened. At once, I went inside and bought some white chrysanthemum. The shop owner eyed me curiously, but made no comment. I thanked him for the flowers, and left.

Returning to the grave yard, I placed the flowers carefully in front of the grave. For another peaceful minute, my mind was blank and I just sat there, not caring about anything. The shock of everything, the sheer disbelief, had left me feeling empty. But soon, the numbness shattered, and grief overwhelmed me. Grief, and guilt.

"I…I couldn't save her…" The promise I made to Itsuke, before he died…I had broken it. "I couldn't save S-Sayomi."

Sayomi was dead. I had failed her. I had failed Itsuke. "I'm so…sorry. I'm s-so sorry."

My body trembled with sorrow. I felt the tears running down my face. Poor, poor Sayomi. She did not deserve this. Itsuke did not deserve this. "I'm so sorry. I failed."

The sun rose up slowly as I sobbed in front of the grave. "I'm so sorry." I whispered. "You trusted the wrong person. I'm so useless. And now…now Sayomi's d-dead."

I was the promise breaker. Not Takigawa. I had failed my promise, and now Sayomi was dead. Itsuke was gone. Hayate was in hospital. Kazuki…Kazuki was gone, all because of me. Everything was my fault.

"I'm so, so sorry." Only silence answered me, as the dawn rose and my apology echoed across the grave yard. It was pointless. There was no hope. Whatever happened, I was not going to get out of this situation alive. Besides, what did it matter? I was completely alone. The taunt echoed in my head. Takigawa knew about my secret. Takigawa thought I was insane. Like the melody, it replayed over and over. He thought I was insane. He did not trust me. He thought I was insane. I was a useless, worthless, shameful failure. A disappointment. Unreliable. A burden. Nothing mattered anymore.

I might as well give up. There was no hope for me. I was going to die. There was no hope. No hope.

My head is spinning. I try to open my eyes. It's too much. I can't move. What's happening? What's going on?

Someone is shaking me gently. The spinning fades away, and I flicker open my eyes.

I'm lying on the floor. It's hard and cold. I struggle into an upright position. Where am I…? What happened…

"Hey." Someone is crouching next to me. "You awake?"

Stars dance across my eyesight for a moment. When they clear, I can see the person. It is a middle-aged man, probably a westerner. His hair is red and his eyes are ice blue. That's all I can take in for the moment, as everything begins spinning again.

"Woah. Careful." I almost collapse again, but the man grabs hold of me. "Try and stay awake."

I stay still for a little while, trying to control the sick feeling inside of me. "W-what…where…"

The man helps me to my feet. I sway perilously, but I do not fall this time. "Who-who are you?"

The man leads me forwards, and sits me down on a bed. A bed…I look around. I'm in a small room. The walls are grey, and the air has a sterilised smell to it. There are two hospital beds in the room. A single, metal door is in the wall, with a small flap in the middle. Where am I?

"Just sit for a moment. Try and get back your strength." The man tells me. "You've probably been out for a while. What's your name?"

"W-where am I?" I ask. The man does not answer my question. Instead, he asks,

"You don't look Japanese. Are you foreign?"

I nod. "Where are you from?"

"Australia."

The man smiles. Now, he speaks in English. "That's good. I'm from the US. I was afraid you were going to be German or something. What's your name?"

"Where am I?"

"Shh." He smiles sadly. "Everything is going to be fine. What's your name?"

"John Brown. Who are you?"

"I'm Matthew Forcit."That name. Matthew Forcit. It was the name from the archives.

"Where are we?" I look around again. "Where is this?"

Matthew swallows. "Look, you don't look very well. How about you lie down for a minute?"

I shake my head. It makes me feel worse. "Where are we?"

A noise comes from outside the door. It sounds as if something is being unlocked. I hear a voice.

"It's time for your session." An indifferent voice speaks.

"No…I-I…I'm not mad…" Now another voice speaks. It's Japanese. "I'm not m-mad."

Then the second voice cries out. "I'm not mad! Let me go! I'm not mad! Please!"

The screaming fades away, and the door is locked again.

Suddenly, I am shaking. No. I am…no. What happened…someone came into my apartment and must have drugged me…and now I was…

"No." I speak up. My forceful tone surprises the American. "No. I can't…No. No." I look down at myself for the first time. I am wearing a blue shirt and trousers. The material is scratchy and uncomfortable. They have these at the hospital. I look at Matthew. He is wearing the same.

"…What do you mean?" He speaks very quietly. He knows I have figured it out.

"…Where am I?" I ask one last time, although I already know the answer.

"…Mattaku Psychiatric Ward."

The blood drains form my face. "No."

He nods grimly. "You've been…diagnosed."

"But I'm not mad."

"That doesn't matter. I'm not mentally ill. Neither are you. A lot of people here aren't mad."

Dread fills up inside of me. "What…exactly is this place? This isn't a real psychiatric ward, is it?"

"It was once, I hear. But then its purpose was…altered."

"What do you mean?"

He cannot answer me when there is another sound outside the door. Now, it is our door that is being unlocked. While I do not know what is going to happen, Matthew puts an arm protectively around me. His unease makes me anxious.

The door opens. A woman, wearing a white lab coat and carrying a clip board, walks into the room.

"Patient 11 9 14 4." She speaks with a nonchalant voice. "You need to come with me."

"He's only been here one day." When Matthew argues, I realise that patient 11 9 14 4 is me. "It's too early for any treatment."

"This is not a session." The woman writes something on her clip board, not making eye contact. "It is merely some procedures."

Matthew nods slowly, then turns to me. "It's ok. You can go with her. It'll be fine." He reassures me.

Uncertainly, I stand up and follow the woman out of the room. I don't really have a choice. I look back at Matthew, and he nods reassuringly at me again. Then the door closes.

I am lead down a long corridor. To either side, there are doors in the walls. As we pass, I hear someone muttering to themselves in one. Someone is crying in another.

I am taken to a room. It is plain and bare, aside from a single desk and two chairs, facing opposite each other.

"Sit down." The woman instructs. I do as she says. Then she sits down behind the desk.

"Patient 11 9 14 4." She flicks to a different sheet on her clip board. "John Brown. Aged 20. Male. Australian. Correct?"

"Y-yes."

She writes more down. I speak up.

"Where am I?"

"Mattaku Psychiatric Ward." The woman does not look up.

"Why am I here?"

"You are suffering from Paranoid Schizophrenia."

"No, I-I…I'm not…"

"You will have one session with a doctor every three days. Every day, you will be fed twice, during which you can socialise with other patients. If you are believed to be too unstable or violent towards other patients, you will be forcefully removed to solitary isolation."

"No…I'm not ill."

"There will be a chance to shower once a day. Otherwise, you will stay only in your room with your room mate. Any violent or inappropriate behaviour means you will be forcefully removed to solitary isolation."

"I'm not mentally ill."

"There will be a roll call every morning at 09:00. You will be asked to line up outside with other patients. If you are believed to be too unstable –"

"I'm not insane!"

"If you continue to persist with this, patient 11 9 14 4, then you will be removed to solitary isolation." The woman's voice suddenly takes a sharp, firm tone to it. "Understood?"

I nod mutely.

Soon, I am taken back to the room. Matthew is still there, and as the door locks shut behind me, he rushes forwards and grabs me.

"Are you ok? What happened?" He asks, concerned.

"I-I'm ok…she just…told me some things…" How is this real? I'm in a psychiatric ward. How did it come to this? It feels so different from any normal psychiatric ward…and no psychiatric ward would admit a person who wasn't mentally ill. That's not how they work. Nobody is just…kidnapped and taken away without any warning. There are so many procedures, so many experts that need to be consulted…it doesn't work this way, and I know enough about mental illnesses to understand the way psychiatric wards work. This isn't how it should work.

Matthew nods. "Ok. Well, I'm going to tell you a few things myself about around here." He sits back down on the bed. "…I've been here for two years. I know a lot about the place. Before I came here, I used to work for the FBI. Your name is John Brown. Are you related to Sinead Brown, by any chance?"

I nod. "Y-yeah, how-how did you…?"

"I've worked with her. The last time I saw her must have been…three years ago, I think. She mentioned you. And that gives us a little bit of hope."

"What?"
"She's a…liaison officer or something, right? As soon as she realises you're missing, she'll investigate. I'm sure they won't be able to throw her off."

"What do you mean?"

He sighs. "This place…I was investigating this place, after one of my witnesses got 'transferred' here. I heard about this place from a German reporter."

"Friedrich Howe."

"You read it?"

I nod. "Yeah. He died in an accident."

"Well, I was getting too close. They took me, and they've decided I've got bipolar disorder or something. The thing is, a lot of people here aren't mad. There are some mentally unstable people, but there are people like you and me. We got too close to discovering the secrets behind this place, and now look."

"How did you find out about this place?"

"Two years ago, a witness of mine was transferred here before a very important trial. I tried to contact him, but I couldn't, so I tried to find out why. It turns out there have been quite a few people who have been transferred here, but the records were very hard to find. A lot of people who were transferred here were witnesses for trials, or involved with criminal cases in some way. I think their enemies pay for them to be sent here."

The words shock me. "D-do you think that's what happened to…"

"Williams? I think so. Anyway, I came to Japan with my partner, and we began to investigate this place. We found the location, too – we're near a village called Shiroku. But then…"He shakes his head sadly.

"Look, if you want to last long enough for your cousin to find us, then there are certain things you have to do. Ok?"

I nod. "What sort of things?"

"Whatever happens, do not let them put you in solitary isolation."

"Why?"

"It's not a nice place to end up." He shivers and closes his eyes briefly, as if remembering an unpleasant memory. "You see, there are certain types of doctors and orderlies around here. Some seem to be decent people, but they're so terrified and scared of what will happen to them if they speak out, they just don't say anything. They pretend that this is just a normal hospital, and they turn a blind eye to what goes on behind the scenes."

"Behind the scenes?"

"Yes. There…are a few people here – doctors and orderlies, even other patients who are desperate to survive and be on the doctor's good sides – and these people will go out of their way to hurt you. They are the ones in charge of solitary isolation. Do not give them a reason to punish you. Be passive. Don't argue against people. Keep to yourself. During socialisation, stay with me. Got it?

"O-ok."

"Most importantly…" He smiles weakly. "They'll tell you you're mad. Repeatedly. Don't argue against it, but don't let them trick you. You are not insane. No matter what they tell you, do not believe them. They are lying. It's what they want you to think."

Again, I nod. Then something occurs to me.

"Matthew…Is there a young woman here called Sayomi Watanabe?"

Matthew exhales and shakes his head.

"Was. There was a woman called Sayomi Watanabe."

The words fill me with guilt and dread. "No…" I whisper, horrified.

He nods. "She wasn't mentally stable. I hear she had paranoia. It got to her. She…" He trails off. Somehow, I know the ending.

"But," He grabs my shoulders, "but, you can't give up. Your cousin will find us. The moment you give up hope, there's no point. Do not give up hope."

My eyes opened. The sun was overhead, bright in the midday sky. I was still at the grave. I was still here. The colleague hadn't taken me away. He had not found me yet. For the moment, I was still safe.

I pushed myself up; the grave yard was completely empty. How long had I been asleep? A good few hours, it seemed…

As I stood up, the memories flashed in my head once more. They filled me with sick revelation. I had been 'transferred' to Mattaku Psychiatric Ward, just like Sayomi. And that FBI agent – Matthew Forcit – he had been transferred, like me.

The flash back answered a lot of questions, but there were still more to be discovered. How did Saburou and Kazuki link into this? Had the Ward really burnt down, like Saburou had told me? What happened to all the 'patients' inside? I was getting closer to the truth. Was the ward really a disposal location, a place where unwanted witnesses and other rivals were paid to be sent, like Matthew had suspected? Where was Matthew now?

Only one thing was clear. I was not insane. Ever since last night, I had been doubting my own sanity. But now, I knew. I wasn't insane. It was just what Saburou wanted me to think. No. I couldn't give up now. I could not give up hope. And I wasn't alone. Maybe I had lost some people…Takigawa no longer trusted me, and the chances were, none of my friends or co-workers in Japan did. But, just like Matthew had said, there was still one more player to enter the game: Sinead. I remembered her message on the phone from the day I got out of hospital.

"Sinead here. You know what? I'm coming to Japan, I've booked the plane tickets. I'll see you over there."

Something had delayed her. But I knew that it would not stop her. I had to believe it. I had no other choice. I could not give up hope now. Hope was the only thing I had left to keep me going. All those months ago, it was me who had said it.

"When you give up that hope, you're as good as dead."

I did not want to die. I did not want the colleague to take me away. And I wasn't just going to sit here and wait for him to come and get me. I had moped about for long enough. Now, it was time to act.