A passionate young woman burst through a wooden door and twirled in the middle of an empty inn. Bursting with glee, she danced around the empty and shoddy wooden tables and stroked her hand over the bar before slapping her hands down on it and leaning over it. The confidence that poured from her eyes inspired a gentle and more reserved man with a round belly and a balding head, wearing plain clothes that wouldn't set him apart from a local farmer to smile too.
"Isn't she a beaut?" the perky woman winked at the man with a warm smile. "We've got her all to ourselves too. This will be an amazing start to something new, I know it!"
"I've… I've never managed an inn before," the chubby man admitted, nearly swallowing his whole hand in anxiety.
"Neither have I. Every inn manager had their first, there's a first time for everything, after all," the woman replied with a faux "know-it-all" look on her face before breaking into cackling and feeling the moist, chilly, and unwelcome bar. "We'll polish this baby, wipe the grime clean off. Then we'll lacquer it so that the ocean weather doesn't get to it again. This place is gonna be sprawling with tourists and people taking a holiday tour through the islands."
"Hmm…" the balding man delved deep into his thoughts, pressing his index finger to his lip. "All that stuff sounds like man's work, but… I've done nothing like that. The water doesn't work… I haven't done any plumbing in my life either. There's no electricity, I've never fixed electricity or laid any power lines either."
"That's okay, you'll learn all that stuff. We'll work it out through trial and error. We've got no expectations to fail but those of our own!" the lively young woman rested her cheek on her bent hand, admiring her partner and the den they would start their newlywed life in. "Isn't it exciting? We'll be doing everything by ourselves. It will feel so gratifying when we make this work!" the confident young wife shrieked out in excitement before bursting with joy and continuing to twirl around in her flowery, frilly dress.
The far less confident in his own skill husband rested in the doorway with a lean. He hadn't taken initiative in his entire life, but seeing his wife this excited about this entire inn-keeping thing reminded him a lot of his upbringing with the cult. The higher priests and wizards made all the decisions, and they looked similarly entranced by his wife. While initially, the separation from his upbringing sounded depressing, almost as if his entire life as he knew it had collapsed, seeing his wife take control like this while seeming to care to tend to his genuine best interests was a refreshing experience.
Enough so for Kita Esatoko to nod and smile with a stretch of his plump lips across his round face and walk deeper into the inn. Catching the contagious excitement of his wife, Kita dragged his hand across the cold and moist tables and, despite feeling as repulsed by their dampness as one could be, he chuckled like a baby being handed a lollipop with a clap of his hands.
"You should have seen White Pine. He was over the moon, completely changed. He was laughing and clapping and he behaves and he interacts with the other orderlies that come to our inn disguised as clients. It may sound sudden, but I don't see him as White Pine, the nameless boy with the only identity provided to him by the Cult of the Motherless anymore. He truly has become Kita Esatoko and has begun to define the identity of Kita Esatoko. He is becoming a man of his own," the enthusiastic "wife" of Kita Esatoko, now wearing round glasses and a lab coat relayed the results of her unique treatment of the Fair Valley Island Sanitarium.
Her superior, a short and slender man in the second half of his lifespan with crudely cut black hair, sat behind his desk with his finger weaved and his face covered by his hands. His look was solemn, but being a man of no-nonsense, he would have long since cut his employee off from her tangent if he thought she was talking hogwash.
"Indeed, the orderlies that have visited White Pine in the makeshift inn you have opened up on the island's premises have reported being stunned by the progress. They said that White Pine was well-behaved and, had they not had decades of experience under their belts, they'd have thought him to be wrongfully committed to the Sanitarium. However, I wonder if you, someone without said decades of experience of practical work treating patients, can make these calls, Kengona-san," the eyes of the director of the Fair Valley Island Sanitarium squinted with focus. "Not to mention, I can't help but persist with my worries about you devoting both your working and off-work hours to a patient. You are living with him and treating him without protection. Were it not for the orderlies visiting your little pretend inn and watching White Pine, I would have never agreed to the massive headache of such a security risk."
"But director, Kita is so kind, polite, and well-spoken. Why I believe he wouldn't hurt a fly," Kengona Forbi, a distinguished in her field young psychologist who had the choice of working in any hospital in any country or village after graduation, given her credentials, yet chose a backwater dump like the Fair Valley Island Sanitarium holding inside the most unstable men and women in the whole of Land of Water. By far the most understaffed and underappreciated facility, which the Water Lord and the Mizukage would have preferred to fail and fall apart so that its unstable patients could be executed in peace.
"Need I remind you of the facility you are working in, Kengona-san?" the director tilted his head and his eyebrows, looking a tad taken aback by how persistent and aggressive his subordinate and employee has become. It was as if she was the one being treated and becoming accustomed to her role of a young wife of a mindless puppet controlled by a cult of misogynist serial killers who, just like they've done to young White Pine, adopted toddlers into their ranks after murdering their mothers and peeling their newborns from their cold and bloody hands. "Something you've been dancing around during this entire little pet project of yours is something I can no longer tolerate not having answers to. It's your choice to adopt the role of White Pine's wife. I would like some clarification about the responsibilities this role entails. Surely you aren't getting intimate with your patient…"
"Don't worry, director. I am well aware that you only signed on to this project because it might be revolutionary for the entire world of psychology. You seek the attention and the fame that this project will bring and the acclaim that will surely result in great funding that will help us treat more and direr cases. I may lack practical experience, but I am still at the top of the field of psychology in terms of my educational background. I wouldn't sabotage such a project with ethical violations as grievous as those you've brought up," Kengona crossed her arms. The young psychologist looked genuinely disgusted because the director even brought this up.
"You're dancing around the subject again, Kengona-san. I need a direct answer. And so will anyone researching your paper," the director stood up. "How have you circumvented that problem?"
"Kita has absolutely no sexual experience or even basic understanding of human sexuality. The Cult of the Motherless has utterly repressed any sexual education and that entire side of the human experience. Lust is considered a sin, grisly enough to be murdered over just for acknowledging its existence. Only the cultists meting out executions and the arch-wizards of the highest order of the cult were allowed knowledge of lust as a concept without losing their heads. Kita has no idea that there is something wrong with a sexless marriage," Kengona explained.
"I see… It is indeed fortunate that the threat of the Cult of the Motherless is in the past. Grim as their fate was, it was a necessary evil to weed out a far greater den of atrocities. I've never doubted the merit in your thesis that the apostles of the Cult of the Motherless were victims rather than dangerous maniacs the society sees them as, I merely am worried about your safety," the director rested back in his chair and sighed. "We have never arranged a similar treatment method in the past. It is rare for us to devote an entire region of the island to a single patient. If it weren't for the funding, we will get after your paper is published…"
"You needn't worry, director," Kengona politely bowed her head with a gentle expression. "That is why we have settled on an inn, remember? So that orderlies can be present on-site 24/7. Let us not forget that in five months of Fair Valley Inn being open, the undercover orderlies didn't need to intervene and break their cover once."
"If they had, I would have ended this little experiment the same day. You are relieved. Continue your treatment, but I would like that paper to be finished sooner rather than later," the director insisted with a firm prod of his index finger at his fancy wooden table.
'With all due respect, director. You cannot accelerate something like this. My research may end up overturning the entire field of psychiatric treatment as we know it. Gone will be the days of treating patients as no better than hardened criminals, executing them, or confining them to fortified sanitariums for the rest of their days. If all goes well, the field of psychiatry will stop being a joke on par with astrology. The work we do in Fair Valley Inn will change the world for the better, I truly believe that," Kengona Forbi replied.
"I hope it is so, Kengona-san, I hope it is so… You are relieved," the director sighed and closed his eyes. The man drifted away and began fighting the demons that were dragging out worries and accelerating his heartbeat by a handful of paces as more and more ways this entire thing could have blown up in their faces sifted through the complex filter that was the man's mind.
Even though Kengona was working toward completing her research for almost two whole years, being there, on the day of its completion, was a source of an entire modicum of different emotions. Not all of them felt good. Obviously, there was a deserved sense of accomplishment. The satisfaction of having completed something revolutionary, something that would change the very field that Kengona specialized in and would help countless ill people instead of locking them up far away from society and throwing away the key or doing away with them without a shred of consciousness about it.
Though there was also anxiety. Kengona would need Kita to participate in at least a part of the hearing, which would mean that she would need to explain everything to him. It had to be her. Kengona was no fool. While Kita has shown remarkable progress, having caused not a single incident or having provided no signs of any mental conditions whatsoever throughout the whole experiment despite being an utterly ruined husk of a man before the experiment started, Kengona knew far too well that this perfection was fragile.
If Kita's world was to fall apart that day, she would need to be there to cushion it for him as much as possible. Even though she would reveal her own treachery and breach of trust between a doctor and a patient, Kengona still counted on her voice and face being a calming presence for Kita and hoped that, despite the shock to his system, he would maintain the stability and sense of normalcy that he thrived in these past two years without breaking it even once.
Kengona's step was noticeably slower as she approached the inn through the beaten track from the sanitarium. To reduce the shock and to disperse it, she wore her hair the way always had them instead, she also wore her glasses and a white coat covered her shoulders. All of this would be shocking to see to Kita at first, but it would be much easier for Kengona and for Kita if she somewhat cushioned the fall from this idyllic family life instead of admitting everything in her wife and innkeeper persona.
The psychiatrist's hand lingered on the door. The big reveal was well planned out. There were plenty of orderlies that "checked in" into their inn yesterday and were having their breakfast in the main hall. That way, if the worst truly comes to pass and Kita collapses and, for whatever reason, turns violent, despite not having had a violent bone in his body his whole life, Kengona would have some broad-shouldered backup. Exhaling a warm breath and feeling the quivering in her lungs, Kengona pushed the door open and walked in.
"Welcome to the Fair Valley Island Inn. I'm Kita Esatoko, an owner and keeper of this inn," Kita waved at Kengona and bowed his head a few times. It was just like him to frantically avoid eye contact but Kengona still was taken aback by how he had absolutely no clue that before him stood the woman he thought of as his own wife for two whole years, just dressed in drabber clothes and having her hair done differently. "Um… Say… This is an unusual time to check into an inn. I'm sorry, but all our rooms are booked right now and… Well… It doesn't look like we have any free tables, but if you find one or if someone lets you sit by theirs, I'll be with you in a second and assist you, ma'am."
Even if he was still stuttering and working through a lot of social anxiety and shyness, feelings of inadequacy of having missed out on almost twenty years of social interactions and normal life because of the nightmarish practices of the Cult of the Motherless, Kita was still making strides in presenting himself as an ordinary business owner and an innkeeper. Even though she would bring about a complete collapse of this idyllic "family" life, Kengona still couldn't tuck down the feelings of pride in her "husband" and the progress he's made in the last couple of years.
"Kita-san, I would like to speak to you eye-to-eye, please," Kengona approached the bar and sat on one of the chairs. The balding and short chubby man became visibly agitated by the aggressive approach of this woman whom he pretended was completely unfamiliar to him, but his psyche was still miles away from cracking.
"Umm… Well… Very well, the bar will do, but it's a bit too early to be drinking, isn't it? It's our policy to not serve food at the bar…. Sorry, ma'am… Drinks we can clean with one swipe of the rag, food is a lot tougher to clean, and this bar is polished and varnished…" Kita backed up into the stacked bar of drinks, wobbling a few bottles and stressing out over how close they were to toppling over and crashing on the floor. Scrambling, the patient maintained order on the bar before turning back to the woman in a lab coat.
"Okay, let's play it this way then, Kita, I'm not sure how you haven't put this together but… This is me, Kita. Look me in the eye," Kengona gently grabbed hold of the chubby cheeks of her fake husband and pressed his forehead to hers over the bar. After a few seconds of peering into each other's eyes, Kita jumped back as if scalded with boiling water and made a handful of bottles crash from the bar onto the floor.
"Oh, jeez…!" Kita grabbed his head, whining out in frustration over the busted bottles as opposed to the woman he believed for two years to be his wife, revealing herself to be someone else entirely. "Oh, God… This is bad… You look so much like my wife, ma'am… My wife… Oh, boy… She'll be so mad at me! My wife is also the owner and a keeper of the inn."
"Kita, wake up!" Kengona grumbled in frustration, gently taking hold of her patient's hand and guiding him to the second floor.
"M… Ma'am! Please! Wait… What are you doing? Only paying customers are allowed on the second floor… My wife is going to be so mad! What will she think, seeing me with another lady? One that looks… So much like her, no less…" Kita began nervously rubbing his cheeks and scratching the side of his head. These were warning signs of his world about to come down, but Kengona was both too close to finally being over all this and curious about how he could have missed the obvious nature of her revealing herself like this.
"Kita, for Pete's sake, look!" Kengona huffed and puffed, almost forcefully dragging her round-bellied husband to the door where she was supposed to be sleeping.
"N-No, please! This is our room! My wife is still sleeping in there!" Kita shook his head and cried out, shedding actual, pebble-sized tears from his eyes that rolled down and dripped with an audible tick on the renovated wooden floor.
"There is no wife, that's what I'm trying to tell you, look!" feeling unable to both overpower her husband and drag him to the door and push the door open, Kengona let go of Kita before slamming her heel at the door and dragging the door open. Kita cradled his terrified head while shaking his entire body and staring at an empty room with a red and yellow flowery dress neatly bent over the chair by the bed. "That's what I was trying to tell you, you've got no wi…"
Before Kengona could finish the sentence, something hard and chunky shut her up. Confused by the crushing pressure by her throat, Kengona tried speaking up but she only coughed a few droplets of blood out. Twitching, she looked down to see a table leg sticking out from her neck. It was when she saw the cause of her own inevitable death that her legs caved in and she collapsed on the ground.
Tears ran down the corners of Kengona's eyes. She had to warn everyone. Where did this come from? Not even when he was part of the Cult of the Motherless and with the only identity he had being that of the White Pine, the identity given to him by the cult, did Kita show any signs of being violent. Kengona's shaking hands reached for the large and long, splintered piece of wood sticking out of her neck and tried pushing it or pulling it, but only painful resonances that made her wheeze and aggravated the process of her drowning in her own blood came out of it.
"You think you can seduce my husband, is that it?" Kita's voice, noticeably higher in pitch, distracted Kengona from wallowing in her own self-pity and impending demise and made her look at Kita glaring at her writhing body from the doorway leading into the room where the two of them lived a serene family life for two whole years. "If you're looking for some wood, I've got more wood for you than you can handle, hussy."
Kita, wearing the red and yellow flowery dress that Kengona liked to wear when she pretended to be his wife, swung the remnants of the table that he pulled the leg from, smashing it straight into Kengona's head and making her whole body jerk up in reaction to the tremendous force that caved her head in. Even though only sparks of nervous impulses remained of Kengona's consciousness at this point, failing to react to the death of her body in time, her body still twitched in reaction to their ceaseless hurry to complete the final handful of circulations across the nervous system before going cold forever.
With a ghastly swing of his wandering, mad body, Kita approached the drawer and yanked it open. From the cluttered drawer, Kita pulled out a large pair of scissors and approached the pale body of his psychiatrist laying in a sizable pool of blood that had become to trickle down the staircase into the first floor. With a brutal combination of slashing and clipping, Kita removed what remained of Kengona's scalp and pressed it alongside bloodied chestnut hair to his chest.
"What were those noises?" a broad-shouldered orderly finishing up his eggs wondered, turning to the door that led to the staircase to the second floor.
"Probably just the guy throwing a fit. Cut him some slack, his hot wife just admitted to him she's a shrink treating his sick and oppressed cultist brain…" his partner shrugged after finishing chewing a string of bacon that had the consistency of a tire. "Wanna check it out?"
"I don't know, I mean… Both of those two were pretty insistent that the only reason to go through that door was to get to your room…" The disguised orderly shrugged, putting the plate with his food down and pushing it further.
"Alright, come on. I mean, the good doctor's busting the walls down, isn't she? It's about time we stop pretending too. This whole island is Sanitarium's property, meaning this whole inn too…" The second orderly cleaned his greasy face and stood up, but before either of them could turn to the door, it burst open.
"What the…?" a handful of orderlies gasped at once while some of them barfed immediately into their plates despite trying to control themselves and filter the vomit through their hands.
Kita Esatoko stood in the doorway dressed in a bloodied flowery dress, wearing Kengona's scalp stapled a few times on his head with the best attempt of an imitation of how his wife would do her hair. In his shaking hand, he clutched a pair of scissors that had blood dripping from them, with more blood dripping from the ceiling and running down the staircase.
"Bandits coming here to violate me, huh? I won't let anyone ruin the peaceful life that I and my husband have made here. I am the owner of this inn and I'm telling all of you to leave, now!" Kita hissed with an impression of his wife's voice, seeped with aggression and spite. Not quite the colors that the voice was usually dyed with.
"He killed the psychiatrist, gloves are off! Take him dead or alive!" someone bellowed, and a rowdy fistfight ensued. At first, the orderlies tried holding the rampant madman down. When a few of them fell to the ground utterly eviscerated and holding their own bloody guts, all the restraints came off, but by that time the oppressed cultist with a broken mind had gotten himself going and had become fully immersed in his berserker rage.
Silver streaks signaled mad slashes that were so strong they carved bulky men like sheets of paper and mangled any limbs that the scissors went into. The rowdy and grisly brawl knocked off the lanterns hanging over the head that provided some semblance of light in the early hours of the morning on the gloomy island since the inn lacked the volume of windows to fully illuminate it even during the hours of the day.
When all was said and done, the inn door came down from a strong kick of a bare foot with a short and chubby man soaked in blood and viscera and still clinging to the scalp of a woman he just murdered stumbled out of the fiery inferno of the burning inn. The dress held itself together on a few strings, torn and soaked in crimson as more than a few orderlies tried wrestling Kita down by it while being butchered. The dress slipped off Kita's shoulders while he stumbled off further and collapsed on his feet.
While the inn blazed behind him, Kita wept into his hands, staring at the severed and mushed scalp with unrecognizable, bloody, and torn hair and the ragged remains of the dress he remembered his wife in.
"Why!?" Kita cried out. "Why did they take you away from me!? What am I going to do now? I'm not smart like you, I can't get things done without you! I'm not like you… You didn't deserve this… I don't deserve to be alone…" Kita butted his head into the cold and moist floor and rubbed it all into the shit and dirt of the saggy soil while crying his eyes out.
It didn't take too long for the boards to give in and for the burning inn to collapse behind Kita. The shaken man stared at the ruins of his serene and happy life, failing to even imagine what he would do next and how on Earth could he move on from the life that was ruined by some bandits that murdered his beloved wife and burnt down their inn.