The Haunted
Part 10. The Music Box – 554 words
The music box, ever the catalyst that returns them to sanity, plays on. The effect the song has on them is peculiar. It always pulled them out of their madness and thrust their actions into the glaring light of reason. Once, Narumi had wished to no longer be dependent on that box. He left her and the music box disappeared with him. That had been the end for Yuka.
Yuka and Narumi pause. Both look rational and calm for the first time in a long while. She reaches out to hold the box. Narumi hands it to her willingly. Instead of her hands passing through, she is able to touch it and hold it up so that they could listen to the melody together. For a moment, Yuka looks entirely corporeal.
"Lucid as we ever will be," Narumi begins as he feels a burning in his chest. "Tell me the truth, Yuka. Why have you haunted me all this time?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You stab yourself. You torch your own room. You kill Subaru. Don't these things require an explanation?"
"I don't have to explain," she repeats. "You should understand. You left me, Narumi. I was lonely and angry."
"I left to get well," he whispers. "Are you so hard of heart that you couldn't see that?"
For the first time, Yuka looks pained. "Yes, that's the truth of it. That's the love I know, Narumi. It's selfish. It's absolute. It's mine to give or take."
"And with your selfish love, you'd have damned us all," Narumi answers. He feels his wit return to him completely. He can see the past and his dreams with clarity. He shoots a look at Misaki before returning his attention to Yuka.
"It's time we end this," he says. "You and I love very differently."
"What do you mean?"
Narumi steps towards her. "I loved you and in the depths of my soul, I know I still do. If it will give us peace, reach for me. Put your hands around me and squeeze the life out of me."
There had not even been a pause to let his words sink in. Yuka, tearful, regretful, yet unforgiving all at once, steps forward to embrace Narumi. Her hands slide up his chest then wrap around his throat.
"Narumi, no!" Misaki shouts.
But he only smiles and envelopes Yuka in his arms until they both expire.
Misaki watches in horror as Narumi falls to the ground, lifeless. With this, Yuka vanishes at last. The room settles and a quiet pervades the entire room.
Light filters through the window as dawn finally breaks. Misaki stands in the middle of the room, his eyes as lifeless as the two corpses surrounding him. Yet, what he feels sharply is the absence of Yuka, that vengeful spirit that had wrought so much havoc on the living. He falls to the floor then belatedly starts to weep. For Narumi and Subaru. For Yuka and for himself. For everything that happens when people live half in dreams and half in contrition.
Somewhere in the room, the music box is still playing and the lyrics echo in his head.
Somewhere faraway, there was music.
And the music never grew faint.
Somewhere faraway, there was Death.
And it claimed everyone in its way.