"She's not dead. Oh Gods… I thought she was dead."

"Katsuko – you could have been killed."

"I wasn't, though." I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. "I'm done."

I didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Wait. Don't. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. "I can't keep watching you chase death."

Toshiie? Where are we?

Is this how she felt? Is this what my mother had lived with every day? The unrelenting greyness that muffled all sound, blinded sight, reached inside and amplified everything dark, muffled everything bright? Had it been like this before? Too long had passed since my last journey through the wormhole. It was familiar, and yet not. No. This was not what I remembered. I could see nothing but grey. The fog invaded my eyes, my lungs, my throat. It was… My fingers were getting numb… I couldn't feel my toes. I couldn't feel. I could sense nothing. How could I escape from a place that appeared to be part of me? I was as one with the fog. There wasn't a step I could take, a direction I could move that would separate me from the grey. Someone looking at me would only see a fading shadow, perhaps darker in some places, and translucent in others. The darkness would fade last.

"Kaya. Open your eyes." The voice was insistent enough that I tried and-

Ow. No. Hurt.

…Me against the mountain. The bright snow and crisp wind, sailing on the board, trusting my balance, my mastery, my freedom. At the top of the pipe, I twisted and… crap! Over rotated, misjudged the run... and I tumbled into the hard packed snow in the bowl of the half pipe.

The few other early season boarders let out an 'ooh' of sympathy. Yeah, that's going to leave a mark. A headache began at the base of my skull and slush slid down my back.

Time to pack it in for the day.

Happy Birthday to me. It wasn't literally my birth date. That had been, six weeks ago. Toshiie and I had had a small dinner at home, with only our mother as a guest, though I knew that Toshiie had celebrated the night before with his boyfriend. Mom lasted through three bites of the cheesecake I'd made for the three of us, then retreated to her room, leaving Toshiie and me to pretend that was had been planned after all. After a few moments of awkwardly staring at her closed bedroom door, we gave up and instead found a movie to stream.

But that was six weeks ago. I was over it. Today I had been determined to have a belated celebration just for myself, the way I liked to spend my time, testing myself against the sky ... although my plan hadn't included wiping out on the half pipe.

Oh well. First snow of the season. Always takes a couple of runs to get the kinks out.

While waiting for the bus to take me back to town, I remembered to turn my phone back on, only to see a stack of increasingly frantic texts from my brother. Shit. Guess they'd found out I wasn't at the library studying.

I considered ignoring the messages (new phone who dis), but it would only be postponing the inevitable. I braced myself and called him back.

"Where are you?" Weird. Toshiie never skipped the greeting. That was my gig.

"Mount Kosha. Waiting for the bus." With about one hundred other people. Hopefully, I would get a seat. My headache had become impossible to ignore.

His sigh of disgust sent the pain ricocheting around my skull. "I'm sending a taxi to you. Take it."

"What? Why?'' My words went in to the void; he'd already hung 'd sounded on the edge of crying, though and my stomach began to twist in anxiety, especially when my attempts to call him back went unanswered. Still. Toshiie sometimes went from zero to full catastrophe in seconds. It could be something simple. Maybe… maybe he broke up with his boyfriend?

I peeled away from the bus stop and migrated to the taxi lot, put on my airpods and tried to push away my worry with a bit of music. My normal k-pop playlist increased my headache, so I poked around the satellite radio networks and found a "Music for Yoga" station. Maybe a dose of New Age flute would clear away the pain.

The lilting tune did little to ease my headache, but as the cab took me back to Nagano, I found the music hypnotic. Relaxing. It was as if it was pulling me somewhere else, calling me to come…

… home?

But home was little more than a slightly shabby nondescript apartment building, parallel to an equally non-descript building. In between the two structures was a small playground with rusty slide and swing set. We'd never played on those though … when we moved here we were already too old for playgrounds. So I was surprised to see Toshiie sitting on one of the swings when I arrived. His head was down, and he kicked his feet in the dirt.

As soon as I got out of the cab, he rushed over, yanked me into a fierce hug, and buried his face on my shoulder. Behind him, the swing he'd hastily abandoned was still moving, back and forth, and side to side, as if propelled by an invisible cyclone. "She's dead."

I didn't process what he said at first. Instead, I watched that abandoned swing rotating wildly, as his words whirled inside my head, pinging back and forth against my aching skull. What? Who?

Then, I knew. Mom. Of course mom. "Did... Um... were you the one who found her?" Had she been dead even before I'd crept out of the house at an early hour? I should have checked on her – usually I do before I leave. But usually, I'm not sneaking out to snowboard.

I should have been the one to find her. It wouldn't have come as a surprise to me, but Tosh... Tosh always thought she was going to snap out of it when her dark days came. Me. I knew she wouldn't.

"Yes – I tried CPR, but it was already too late." His voice was muffled in my shoulder. "I should have checked on her earlier."

It wouldn't have mattered. It would never have mattered. She was always going to do this. But I couldn't say any of that, so I hung on to the hug, patting his back, trying to ignore the feeling of release. At least now, the wondering was over.

"Kaya, wake up." Two Mitsuhides were floating over my head. The pain was… no I couldn't focus without it hurting. I closed my eyes to the pain. "Who?"

New phone who dis?

Later, I don't know how much later, I felt something cool touch my cheek. Ok yes, that's good. I blinked open for a sec, and it was Sho, washing my face. "Kaya! Thank you for saving Hiko!" There was a smothering hug, and a stab of pain, and... Why does she keep calling me Kaya? I hate that name.

I'm just going to sleep again.

It was dark for a while. The soft strains of a flute reached out, around, a cloud bank of music. Nice. I must have found that Music for Yoga station again.

"Katsuko." The room was still dark, but I knew Mitsuhide's voice.

"Nooo. Let me sleep." I batted his hand away.

"I will. Be patient, Brat. The strange doctor Shojumaru found said I should wake you up periodically." He mumbled something else under his breath, but I was in too much pain to concentrate on that.

Ugh. My entire life savings for aspirin.

"If you are able to drink it, I have some willow bark tea for the pain." I felt a hand under my back, lifting me slightly, cradling my weight, while a slight bitterness dripped onto my lips.

My turn to have willow bark. I used to be the one forcing it on people.

"There's no way to make this into a tea, so you're going to have to chew on this for a little while."

"What… does it taste like?" Even half out of breath, there was deep suspicion in his voice.

"Katsuko. Wake up." Who was that talking? I only saw a blur with white hair.

"Go away ghost." I tried to turn over to avoid the light, and a wave of pain swept through me, instantly receding on a rush of nausea. No. I couldn't throw up in my own bed. "Let me sleep," I begged the ghost.

There was a soft touch untangling my hair, and a cool gel of some kind on my cheek.

With a gentle touch, he lightly massaged the ointment onto my cheekbone. The warmth of his finger combined with the cool of the salve – the sensation was not unpleasant at all. It felt little like a butterfly was dancing on my skin, and I involuntarily shivered as his touch reverberated through me.

"Did I hurt you?" Mitsunari's voice was in my ear; he sounded concerned.

"No." I hurried to reassure him. "It tickled, actually." Tickled wasn't quite what I meant, but there didn't seem to be an adequate word in my vocabulary for the feeling his tenderness had evoked.

He continued the treatment, smoothing another layer across, and I squashed a rogue desire to lean into his hand as if I were Kitty. "There. Done."

I opened my eyes to see Mitsunari's serious gaze right in front of me. His palm was still pressed to my cheek. Then he jerked his hand away, as if he'd been shocked. Quickly, he lurched backward and jumped to his feet.

"Katsuko. Time to wake up again, Brat." Mitsuhide had returned. This time there was only one of him. An improvement, I guess.

"Where did your friend go?"

"The healer?" He frowned. "Do you think you can sit up long enough to drink this?" He held a cup out to me. "It's gone cold, but Sho would happily brew up an entire vat if I asked."

"Cold is fine." Willow bark. Fume used to make me strip acres of it for her own medicinal stock. Mitsuhide helped me sit up enough to sip the cup. The room tilted, then spun when I moved and I closed my eyes. The nausea arrived with the pain, but the tea would help. Hopefully. "Where did you find willow bark?"

"Shojumaru brought it." Mitsuhide sounded slightly surprised by that. Huh. For that matter, so was I. "Do you recall what happened?"

For a moment we were all quiet. I lined up another shot, my attention fully on the sound of the air and the rustle of the leaves, and it was quiet enough to hear something else – the twang of another bow string in the distance.

I didn't need to look to know there would be an arrow heading for us, and I was yelling a warning even before I turned to see Yoshimoto move faster than I had ever seen him move, grab Mai's arm and dive left, covering her with his body, while I somersaulted to the right, landing hard on a rock, as –

The arrow thudded into the ground right past Mai had been standing. If Yoshimoto hadn't pulled her out of its path, it would have buried itself in her heart.

"Arrow." No. Wait. Where were all these strange visions coming from? "Runaway cart. Is Hiko all right?" The scene blurred in my mind. I could see the ox, but the moment before that was blank.

"He is fine. Apparently Shojumaru is sufficiently attached to the boy to be grateful." I couldn't tell whether or not Mitsuhide found that information helpful due to the procurement of medical supplies or if he planned to make use of that gratitude. In another situation, I might have asked, but at the moment, I simply wanted to go to sleep again.

So I did.

The next time I surfaced, it was daylight again. This time I had awakened without anyone prompting me. My head still ached when I tried to focus my vision on anything in particular, but I had the sense that-

!

Yes, that was Mitsuhide next to me on the bed. He was lying on his side, with his head propped up on his arm. He stared down at me wordlessly, and brushed my hair out of my face, his touch as gentle as-

"Feathers." Since it still hurt too much to do anything else, I curled into him and went back to sleep.

How much time had passed since morning? It was impossible to tell. Sho had brought me some soup and insisted I take it, saying that I needed to eat. I likely would have refused, but her statement was backed up by Mitsuhide's implacable stare.

Bad decision. After I sat up and swallowed a small amount, the liquid boiled in my stomach. "Oh hell. I'm going to-"

With a shriek, she rushed for a bucket, and thrust it in front of me while Mitsuhide kept my hair out of the way and gently rubbed my back. The soup left me faster than it entered. I felt helpless, prisoner to the constant ache in my skull and the convulsions in my stomach. This was worse than any flu or food poisoning I'd ever had. At least with the flu, there was the knowledge that eventually, it would run its course.

When the wave finally subsided, I felt spent and exhausted. Mitsuhide held me against him while he helped me take a couple sips of cold tea, and then I lay back down, completely out of energy, and yet not able this time to go back to sleep. If I kept myself very very still, maybe everything would stop hurting.

"Thank you." I heard Sho's soft footsteps padding away, leaving me alone with Mitsuhide. "How long has it been?" Time had been blurred, I felt like I'd been both thrown into the past and at the same time futures that didn't exist.

"Since you picked a fight with a runaway cart? Three days. Some of your bruises all already fading." His fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. "I imagine your head will feel better soon as well."

I hoped so. Concussion… that's probably what I had, but of course there was no word for that in this time.

"Do you think a strong scent will make you feel sick?" Mitsuhide's voice came from further away and I heard a bit of a clanking. It sounded like a ceramic jar, maybe, but I wasn't willing to test opening my eyes again.

"Maybe." There had been a bit of a fishy smell to the soup. But the scent of the herbal tea hadn't been triggering.

I heard a rustle, then the side of the futon dipped slightly. Very briefly, the scent of something minty wafted past. "What about this scent?"

"So far it seems tolerable," The scent came closer, stronger.

"And now?" I felt his breath across my ear.

"Still fine. As long as I don't move or open my eyes. Why?" The question was automatic, although I suspected what he had planned.

"This oil may help with the pain, but if I put it on you, I don't want it to make you ill again." The scent was closer still, right under my nose, fresh and sharp, and I realized something was missing. He no longer had that scent of incense clinging to him. He must have bathed and laundered his clothing. "May I?"

"Yes." If it would stop the men with spears from hurling them back and forth in my skull, it would be lovely.

Very gently, almost imperceptibly, one finger traced small circles at my temple, drawing a line from there to a spot behind my ear. The mint oil left a trail of coolness, soothing the angry nerve endings. The pain didn't go away, but it subsided enough to help me relax. "That's nice."

He lightly applied more oil to the side of my neck, the top of my shoulders, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Interesting. That response makes me curious to see what would happen if we employed this oil in other situations." That teasing note was finally back in his voice. He wouldn't tease me if he thought I was in any serious danger, which was a relief. I mean it wasn't like I thought I was going to die either. If this head injury was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?

It was only belatedly that I realized what exactly he was teasing me about, "Great. Let me know how it turns out." Not my usual, but hey give me credit for any snark at all when I have a concussion.

"You would know long before that," At least that's possibly what he said. I was already halfway into sleep again.

I wish I could say that recovery from that concussion was as easy as recovery from a cold. Though the constant headache and nausea receded within a week, it came back whenever I tried to do anything strenuous. Reading. Reading was strenuous. Though I had never been much of a reader, being stuck in bed was boring, and reading material would have helped distract me from my thoughts.

Even worse than the boredom was the feeling that I was always on the verge of crying or losing my temper. The third time I tried to read and the text blurred in front of me had brought me to tears. Luckily neither Sho nor Mitsuhide had been in the room at the time. Maybe it was illogical, but I couldn't get past the conviction that all the things I used to be able to do were gone and would never return.

That fear, and a fear that I was holding up Mitsuhide's investigation, propelled me out of bed.

As it had been practice and repetition that had given me all those skills to start with, well, then, I only needed to practice and work hard to make sure they were retained. With that in mind, I made my way back to the room that had been mine when I first moved in, before Mitsuhide banned me from window access.

I'd been able to eat the past few days, so the effort of walking down that hideous red and black corridor didn't even have me out of breath. (Not much anyway). I only wanted to look out the window, to visualize what it would be like to climb out and make my way through the city across the rooftops. To remember what it had felt like to be powerful and free. To test myself against the sky.

But even the act of looking down inspired such a feeling of vertigo, that the room spun around me and-

"What do you think you're doing over there?" Mitsuhide's voice was sharp with disapproval.

Before the words were out of his mouth, he had crossed the room and scooped me up in his arms. "It's been barely a week since your head injury. Even someone as reckless as you would not think of climbing out the window."

"I wasn't." I slumped against his shoulder as he hauled me back to my room, all previous energy having vanished in the dizziness. "I only wanted to know if… to see if..." I couldn't figure out how to explain it, and then to my complete horror, I burst into tears as he put me back down on the bed. "Just leave me alone."

Crying was bad enough. Crying in front of Mitsuhide? Kill. Me. Now.