O/O/O/O/OO/O/O/O Chapter 14: Horror and Relief OmGoMgOmGoMg

We're going to die, Hiroshi thought as the oni gazed at him through the crack.

It had been standing there for far too long; Hiroshi expected to be killed any minute. Its eyes were a hazy orange and it's mouth was slack, revealing its yellowed fangs. Hiroshi found his sanity slipping; he had started imagining how he'd look when its fangs found him and ripped him apart. Blood, blood, blood, guts and blood. It was all he could see. It covered his eyes like a screen and he knew not even his wit could save him at this point.

I'm going to die and I can't do a damn thing about it.

Absently he clenched a lock of Nikoru's hair. She stared at his cheek, knowing full well what was to come. She had always thought she'd be ready for death when it came, but sitting there in that tight fitted cabinet with Hiroshi so close and an oni peering in hungrily made her realize there might not be an escape this time. She realized she really wasn't ready for death.

Hiroshi's mother had died several years back. Hiroshi had crumbled before her eyes. At first he insisted he was fine, that death was a natural thing, that it would come to everyone and he might as well wish his mother well.

It was a shitty Tuesday. Hiroshi hadn't shown up at school and Takuro and Nikoru became worried. They called him several times, but he never answered. Finally, Takuro set his cell down and sighed.

"I know where he is," he said.

Nikoru paled and raked her nails through her hair distressingly. "Yeah, I know, too."

They found Hiroshi at the funeral home. He sat silently in the back room, the embalming room, and sat next to his mother's corpse on a small wooden stool. His back was turned but he knew when Takuro and Nikoru had stepped inside.

"It's all right," he said absently. "I'm perfectly fine."

But his friends knew better. They hovered closely by his chair but feared to touch him if he should suddenly crumble like a cookie. Hiroshi laughed. It was so grim and dark, as if he had played a joke on them. Maybe he was amused with their hesitance or maybe he was simply lost, unsure how to save himself without asking for help.

"Maybe you two would rather throw a party for her now that's she's gone, but I can't." He laughed again. It was so quiet and so distant. So sorrowful. It sounded hollow, like he hadn't meant to laugh but cry. It was a placeholder, a substitute to protect his dignity. "I don't know how to feel. I'm so confused. My head is spinning…Death is a natural way of life, yet I can't…It's just not…fair."

"Oh, Hiroshi." Nikoru sighed, swallowing a love confession. He was so vulnerable. She stepped around the chair and embraced him. Without a word he closed his eyes and numbly began to cry. "I'm gonna be right here, okay? Don't be sad, HiroshiPEN. You'll make Takuro cry."

Takuro simply grinned in return and stood beside Hiroshi without denying what Nikoru had said. He rested a hand on Hiroshi's shoulder and rubbed soothingly. "I'm sorry, bro," he murmured. "Just know we're here for you. Hang in there, HiroshiPEN."

Hiroshi cried on Nikoru's shoulder for a long while. Then, when he had calmed himself, Takuro began joking and goofing around mercilessly. He shoved a pencil up his nose and told a story about the day Ben Franklin felt up his sister's cousin's mother's uncle's brother's chimpanzee (I'll tell you one thing: That Chimpanzee sure as hell got what he wanted!), Nikoru told some blonde jokes (So two blondes are driving past a cornfield when they notice another blonde in a rowboat. One blonde scowls and says, 'It's blondes like that that give us a bad name.' 'Yeah,' the other blonde says, 'If I could swim, I'd go out there and drown her!') and she and Takuro played Leap Frog around the room. Hiroshi didn't laugh, but he smiled and murmured political jokes.

She wondered if Hiroshi would cry like that for her. She wondered if, possibly, he'd murmur sweet things to her as she died. She wondered if he would build a monument for her once he was rich and famous and had the money. Maybe he'd even build a museum for her.

Hiroshi swallowed and gazed back at the one visible eye. It watched him intently and a dribble of saliva spilled over its jaw. Hiroshi did not flinch. He took a deep, stilling breath, and waited.

And just like that, the oni turned and left. It melted through the door and disappeared. Stranger, it didn't return. Hiroshi's breath caught and his heart stilled, hope lifting his heart. He waited a while, stumbling through confusing possibilities. Was it going to wait for them to come out? Was it really gone? It was a freaking predator! Of course it couldn't have left just like that! Like on a whim!

Hesitantly, he pushed the wardrobe door open. It creaked and Hiroshi's heart stopped, alarmed the oni would rush back in and take him. But there was nothing. Nothing but a deadly silence. Hiroshi sighed a shuddering breath and carefully stepped out. Then he turned and extended an arm for Nikoru to take. She sniffed and shuddered, but took his arm and allowed him to help her out.

"HiroshiPEN…" She whispered. "Oh, God, that was creepy shit! It was right outside."

Hiroshi nodded. "It was. But we can't let it stop us—"

"I wasn't gonna let it!" Nikoru exclaimed. "I was just saying—that was close! But if it knew we were in here…" She trailed off, knowing Hiroshi was wondering the same thing. His face darkened and he shivered. Then she realized how close they were, how open his neck seemed. "Hey, hey, Hiroshi…"

He sighed; he was beautiful when his tight face relaxed. "Yes?"

"Where'd your scarf go?"

Hiroshi scowled, about to retort when the door opened. They both jumped, taken off guard and suspicious of the oni. Lured into a fake sense of security, Hiroshi thought foolishly.

He didn't feel as bad when he realized it was Takuro. The red head was standing in the door frame like a lost child. His eyes were wide and dilated; his skin was pale, and that was easy to notice because he was always so darkly tanned; his fingers gripped the door like a child would his mother's hem. For a quick second, Nikoru wondered if it was his ghost.

Realizing they weren't illusions, Takuro stepped fully inside the room and started towards them. "You guys," he said. "You—you guys are all right."

Nikoru met him in the middle of the room. She ruffled his hair, hesitant, as if he would disappear. "You're really here. Ahhh, shit, are you all right? Did it hurt you?"

Takuro grinned and shook his head. The color returned to his face. "No, that bastard had nothin' on me. He didn't get anywhere close to catching me!" He ruffled Nikoru's hair right back as Hiroshi joined their circle. Well, it was more of a triangle now. You're right, doesn't matter. "HiroshiPEN! You're all right, bro!"

Takuro grabbed Hiroshi in a bone crushing hug and gave him a noogie. "Enough!" Hiroshi exclaimed, flustered. "Enough of that!" Takuro simply laughed, hauled him into the air, and swung him around. "Takuro! What—"

Nikoru laughed and skipped around Takuro as he spun. Then, as he set Hiroshi back onto his feet, she caught him in between her chest and Takuro's in another crushing hug. "Huston, we've got hope!" She cried, struggling with tears of relief. "We've got hope!"

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