"Shouldn't we tell them?"
Abi sat crouched beside the well, conveniently near a small spring of water. Her back faced it as Hiten washed up behind her, feeling relief, like the tension was washing away from his body with the sweat and dirt. Maybe he would have offered her to clean up first, she seemed like a high maintenance woman, but it didn't cross his mind. When he saw it, he actually smiled; water. Water, drinkable (he hoped) water. Water he could bathe himself in, something that would allow him to survive. It was a little cold but still refreshing.
Behind him, he heard the young woman, Abi, continue to question him. So concerned for the others who he knew were being selfish with their findings. They could hold out a few days without them and water. If he could find food on his own, Hiten would probably stay by himself. Abi would run off in a few days to check on them and he could easily avoid her. It could be his little escape from the world. He grinned, and then frowned. What if they escaped without him? What would happen to Souten?
"It's already getting dark…" She whispered and he eased himself up and pulled on his boxers and jeans. She had her knees to her chest, staring at the sky as if it'd give her answers. He sighed and sat beside her.
"Go wash up before it's too dark, and then we'll find shelter." He stretched and she got up quietly and did so. He heard her strip before slipping into the water. It was like this was all set up for them, like they were caged animals with only what they needed. The water made trickling sounds with her body movements, but he made sure not to look. She was already freaked out enough.
"Why don't you want to go back? I thought that was the agreement." She asked with her back still faced to him. He shrugged, assuming she was watching him, and began braiding his hair. "They could have information or something and we're just-"
"I could really use a cigarette…" He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. She returned his response with one of her own, focusing on washing her thick hair without any real soap; disgusting.
"It's bad for you…smoking." Her tone sounded motherly, almost soothing to his ears. He lay back on the dirt and folded his hands behind his head. He rolled his eyes and her nagging seemed to cease.
"You got a picture of your daughter?" He looked up to her, seeing her hair flow down her backside. He realized how long it was now that it was wet; it went below her ass. Maybe that's why she didn't care he was looking, or maybe she didn't realize he was even watching.
"No…why?" There was a glint of hope in her voice and he felt just a little bad for bothering to ask her. He sighed and looked away when she peered over her shoulder in his direction.
"Just curious…" He started out, but curiosity couldn't keep its mouth shut. "I have one of my sister, and I have custody of her so I was just wondering…I mean, that's the only possession that I had on me. Wish they would've had the decency for one cigarette, too. Who'd that hurt?"
"You." He listened contently as she walked out of the water that didn't go beyond her waist, his thighs. She wrung out her hair and he wondered how she would bother drying, he didn't really require it. He figured she'd continue the conversation after a few moments, but she didn't. He got up and she crossed her arms over her chest, he didn't see why; she had a bra on already. He held out his tank top to her.
"Dry up…you'll complain if you don't." He reminded and she nodded hesitantly in thanks. "How old is she?" Still, Abi remained quiet a while, drying while pondering it.
"Four." She looked up as she pulled her shirt over her head. He would go on about Souten but it wasn't her business really. He wasn't ready to confide how worried he was, anyway. His only family was in Hawaii, he yearned to know where she was. Maybe it was similar to how Abi felt, maybe not.
"You're married?" He pressed on as he put his boots back on. She glared and he sighed, realizing he crossed the line. She sat across from him, leaning forward as though to let him know he had her full attention.
"You ask me all these questions, yet you never tell me anything about yourself." She pointed out. Her voice was a lot stronger than it had been the first night he found her. She was confident, at least around him. Now, he wished she was back to being quiet and to herself. He didn't tell her his life story because he didn't want to. Still, he managed to think of one thing he could tell her he hadn't told the others. Maybe it'd keep her satisfied for a little while.
"My name is Hiten." He stated in a flat voice. She stared at him quizzically and he went from proud to confused; shouldn't she be smiling or something? Wasn't this a sign he at least trusted her with his name (which wasn't much, really).
"Well…I knew that." He blinked.
"Boring…boring….boring." Jakotsu droned as he threw the documents on the desk behind him, crumpling each one in a tight ball before doing so. He sighed and carelessly pushed the rest of the papers off the old desk. Kagura scoffed with a smirk, sorting through the cluttered, dusty furniture.
"Did you even look twice?" She asked without facing him. He sighed dramatically and threw himself on the couch she had just barely pushed out of the way; that made her twitch.
"I don't need to, so what if it does even say this place's history? How will that help us? We need new stuff, to find out why someone just put us here." He slumped and Kagura thought it over before sitting on the arm, it was too gross for her to actually sit with him. Either way, he had a point. She questioned if they were even supposed to be here, what if this place was coincidence? She was sure she'd sound crazy if she asked aloud. "Banks is just uptight with doing something wrong; I guess our father scarred him that way, being a perfectionist." He rambled.
"Ah…" Kagura sighed and tapped her index finger on her chin. She was ready to leave this place, it gave her the chills and it was already getting dark outside.
"Speaking of him…I couldn't help but overhear you two talking?" He smirked and she groaned, getting to her feet without second thought. He made a 'tsk' sound with his lips and pulled her back by the wrist. "So, what's the deal? What happened?"
"Nothing." She spat through a tightly clenched jaw. Instead of intimidating him, it seemed to egg Jakotsu on. She subconsciously hissed and yanked her wrist from his hold.
"You guys find anything?" They jumped as Bankotsu came in the room. Both glanced at each other before shaking their heads; something itched at Kagura to tell them possibilities, but why do that now when it was highly unlikely to begin with? If she had leads, she'd come clean.
"Oh…me neither, but I found out some stuff on this place. Guess there was a disease years ago that either wiped you out or made you run off. It's general but it took me a while to read it." He shrugged. Jakotsu sighed.
"Can we head back now?"
"Yeah we should…it's getting late out." He agreed and held his hand up over the window. Kagura got up and dusted her clothes off, she felt old just being in the building.
"No…we should stay because it's getting late. It's dark and there's no street lights." She huffed and crossed her arms. Bankotsu arched a brow at her, trying to get an understanding. He figured she'd be the first to want to get away from him.
"Scared of the dark?" Jakotsu waggled his fingers and she cast him a glare that at least caused him to stop. He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "Whatever, you losers have fun I'll be exploring."
"So…are you?"
"Huh?" She looked back to Bankotsu, who was already focusing on her.
"Afraid of the dark." He reminded and she scoffed and looked away; what an idiot he was. A clueless forgetful idiot; the kind that seemed to be able to erase all the bad things. A little part of Kagura envied that. "Never mind…there's only one room here. You can have it." He offered and she bit her bottom lip.
Never having been good with words, Kagura extended her hand to grab his. She couldn't tell if he was thrown off because she turned too quickly to lead him out of the room. She wandered aimlessly until he gripped her hand and took her in the direction of the spare room. In the doorway, he pulled away and she looked to him.
"You don't owe me anything….so it's better nothing happens between us right now. At least not until this is all resolved." He brushed his lips against her forehead and she covered her mouth with her hand.
Why couldn't be so persistent when he was the same Bankotsu she remembered?
"So…when did you start taking care of yourself?" Ryura asked tiredly as he watched her cook. Yura had been quiet as she usually was, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. She didn't even argue with him, which made him feel like he had no purpose if he wasn't upsetting her.
"What do you mean?" She looked up; she assumed the boys would eat the most so she had been trying to prepare a good amount of food while being able to save some. It was preservatives anyway, nothing great. Starting a fire seemed like the bigger hassle, but she had to make sure she was making it right. This was the only thing she'd really done for anyone here; Bankotsu and the other guy that found her always seemed to take charge.
"You don't seem dependant on people, so I'm assuming that in real life you aren't." He sprawled on the chair and she looked to him curiously.
"In real life? Is this pretend to you?" Her voice was stern and he chuckled under his breath.
"I just prefer to look at it as a bad dream." He winked and she shook her head and became more attentive to the food. He sighed; he always seemed to be around people when they were in a shitty mood, just his luck.
"Well it's not….I was around fifteen or sixteen when I lived by myself." She changed the subject, not in the mood to be insulted during an argument or be questioned repeatedly just because he felt he was getting to her.
"Why so young? Bet you had bad parents, that's usually the case." He went on amusing himself. She let him ramble and somehow blocked his voice out.
"Just…things happened." She muttered, not sure if he heard her.
"You should dress up more." Her grandmother chided, exhaling the smoke from her umpteenth cigarette of the day. The scent made Yura scrunch her nose; it stunk up the room and even the clothes in the house. She had been staying here for three weeks now and still wasn't used to it. "This is your mother's funeral, you know." She reminded, as if Yura had forgotten why she was expected to dress in black today.
"I know…" She mumbled instead of speaking her mind, her thoughts on the situation. Good, one less drunken whore left walking the streets or beating her children – child. Yura was an only child now.
"'I know'." The elder woman mocked as she put her cigarette out and blew it aside, adjusting her black veil; Yura was grateful she wasn't expected to wear something like that. Then suddenly she wanted to, to shield her eyes and the emotions they possessed. "You kids these days think you know everything."
"Oh." She looked to her feet. They only had a half hour to get to the cemetery; she was hoping they could leave early and avoid conversation.
"Such a shame, dying so young like that. I mean, I knew she was mixed in with some bad people, but being stabbed to death? Nobody deserves that." Yura almost laughed, this woman and her mother did. Well, maybe not this woman, but her daughter certainly. She knew what she was doing, almost a year ago. She knew what she was doing to her baby boy.
"Yeah." She nodded meekly. She knew the reference of blood staining your hands when you killed, would it forever haunt her in a non-metaphorical way? Would she start to feel grief and regret for what she had done? She doubted it.
"Well, I'll give you a few minutes. Don't want you going all emotional on me, y'know? I'll be in the car when you're ready." Yura watched her walk out of the room. 'Run, runaway from problems', she thought. Avoid the emotional attachment of others and worry about yourself, avoid dealing with anything.
The idea struck her, not having to deal with anything. That could mean emotion-wise or even being caught; it could mean both. She turned the lock on her door, or the door to the room she had been given three weeks ago, and began stuffing her things in a duffle bag. Clothes, make-up, soap, a toothbrush, as many things as she could stuff in. She slipped off the black heels that had once belonged to her mother, exchanging them for a pair of her own flip flops. She took one last look at the door and thought it over. She chose the decision that would help her – she may as well be selfish now.
Yura slipped out the window and pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. She would never look back to what she had done or the life she had hated so.