Chaptern Thirteen: It Doesn't Matter

Spring – 2015

Getou Suguru was not a coward.

He stood outside the door to his home, hoping desperately that the girls were asleep, but he wasn't a coward. He was just taking a moment to breathe.

It wasn't the first time he had been out all night, but it would be the first time he'd left for dinner and not returned with it. He had been delayed a few times, (oddly enough those delays had also been because of Matsuda) but never this long. Nanako would be irritated, especially when she found out why, but she would be asleep by now and he could make it up to her later. Mimiko… they would need to talk about Matsuda, but that wasn't a conversation he felt they should have when he hadn't slept for twenty-four hours. If he could get inside and fall asleep before the girls woke up, they probably wouldn't wake him up. He could sleep, for a little while.

Suguru closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, the faint sound of the television from the living room drowning out the quiet click of the lock. He took off his shoes quietly in the entryway, grateful the lights were off before he walked carefully through the living room. It was not his proudest moment to sneak around his own home, but he was fairly certain the bundle of blankets on the couch was Mimiko. If he could just make it down the hall –

"Getou-sama?"

He turned on his heel, walking away from his bedroom door and back to the living room. Mimiko was sitting up, her dark eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She had probably been up half the night crying and worrying, afraid he would come home upset with her. As if he blamed anyone but Matsuda for this mess.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered.

Her eyes welled up dangerously, "I'm so sorry."

"Mimiko you didn't do anything wrong," he joined her on the couch, the house dark except for the glow from the television.

"I told her where you were," she rubbed at her eyes, sniffling quietly.

"That's not your fault," he assured. "She shouldn't have manipulated you into telling her."

Mimiko sat up straighter, "She didn't manipulate me."

Suguru let out a sigh, leaning his head on the back of the couch. He was so tired, too tired to have this conversation and he could still taste the acrid flavor of the cursed spirit. "I know that you… like Matsuda but she was wrong to involve you. She shouldn't have put you in that position."

"I don't think she wanted to," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Is she…" her voice dropped lower, "is she alive?"

"Yes, she is." Because of Satoru. Because of Mimiko. Not because she had risked her life for her niece. Not because she hadn't said anything to Satoru when she could have, when she should have.

'I didn't want to take you from them. I didn't think they deserved that.'

Nothing she said mattered, it was all irrelevant.

"What about her niece?" Mimiko whispered.

"Her niece is fine." He wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side while she stared fixated on the television.

She yawned and leaned into the half hug, "Natsumi said her niece is a sorcerer. Does that mean Natsumi is –"

When had Mimiko started calling her by her name? It had been Matsuda, sometimes Matsuda-san but not… when had it become Natsumi?

"Matsuda is a monkey," he said quickly. Matsuda was a monkey, that was an inescapable fact. He told himself the twisted feeling in his stomach was because of the curse he'd swallowed. "Her niece's mother was a sorcerer, supposedly."

"Oh… How does she know about you?"

Suguru rubbed his forehead, "I'm not entirely sure. She said something about a file, but she kept changing the subject."

"She rambles a lot."

"It seems that way," he said quietly. "I didn't realize how often you two talked until tonight. You've always been vague about it."

She sniffled, "I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Mimiko you're allowed to speak to whoever you want," he tried to keep his tone gentle, Mimiko had always been the more sensitive of the two. "I don't really understand the appeal of talking to Matsuda." She was mildly entertaining sure, but it wasn't as if he sought her out. He didn't go looking for her, she just showed up and it was more trouble to avoid her.

"I told you she reminds me of my… you know," she tugged at her fingers, pulling and cracking the knuckles. "Nanako… Nanako only thinks about the bad stuff but there was good stuff too," she whispered a few tears falling down her face. "She… she used to make us breakfast and play music and she…" Mimiko stopped tugging at her fingers long enough to rub her face with the sleeve of her sweater. The one Nanako had stolen and apparently given back in the time that he was gone.

"She wasn't perfect, I know that, and the end," she choked on the word, "the end was bad, but she used to read us stories and make silly voices and she told us all the time that she loved us… She loved us until she didn't anymore, but she was scared, and maybe… maybe she was right to be scared."

"No, she wasn't," he hugged her closer, rubbing soothing circles on her back, "there's nothing wrong with you. They were wrong, all of them." It would never happen again, he wouldn't let it, and eventually… eventually none of them would be a problem. There would be no monkeys and there would be no cursed spirits and it would be okay.

Mimiko cried into his shoulder, "Natsumi's known this whole time and she wasn't scared at all. I told her…" She took a gasping breath, her shoulders shaking. "I told her you wouldn't help her, and you would kill her, and she didn't care. She wanted to hear it from you herself."

"I'm not upset," he said gently, and he hoped she believed him, "but why did you tell her where I was?"

"Because," she said through her tears, "she knows about all of it and instead of being afraid of her niece Natsumi was willing to die for her. I just wish," her voice cracked, "I just wish our mom had felt that way about us. I just wish that she had fought for us. I wish she loved us more than she was afraid of us."

'I came here knowing you would probably kill me, but I had to ask. I had to try.'

He didn't like the way Matsuda's voice was ringing in his head. Nothing she said mattered. She was still a monkey, and it didn't matter.

"Everything is going to be okay," he told her quietly because there were no other comforting words, he could offer her. They knew how their mother had felt about them at the end, she had been dead before he showed up that night. There was nothing he could say, no ambiguity left in their mother's final words to them. He couldn't say that their mother hadn't been afraid, that she had loved them to the end. What could he say that wasn't a lie?

"I love you, and I'm not going anywhere." It wasn't enough, but at least it was true.

"I know," Mimiko said, her voice still strained from crying, "I love you too."

She continued sniffling as her tears slowed and he patted her shoulder gently, "You should go to bed."

"Not tired."

She had been yawning not long ago and he doubted she'd been asleep for very long, she'd woken up too easily. Suguru glanced at her hands in her lap, she'd moved on from cracking her knuckles to picking at the skin around her nails. He lifted his hands to his hair, undoing the tie and moving to sit on the floor in front of her.

This wasn't the first time he had sat like this, cross-legged on the floor while the girls put small braids in his hair. Usually, it was Mimiko, she was fidgety when she was anxious, and she'd pick at her nails or her skin until she bled. It seemed the easiest way to shift her focus, and he was relieved that it still worked. He tried not to wince when she ran her fingers through a tangle, at least she was gentler than Nanako.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen as he felt her hands in his hair, parting it and tugging as she made a small braid. What was she even watching?

"Mimiko… are you watching Sailor Moon?" It hadn't been something he had watched, but it had been popular and he recognized the blonde with the long pigtails.

Her hands paused and she took a deep breath before she continued. "Yeah… Natsumi likes it so I… wanted to try it. It's pretty good."

That woman had infiltrated his life, and it was entirely unwelcome.

"What do you two talk about?"

"Um…" Mimiko trailed, "music mostly. She likes old stuff, but I recognize some of it and… I text her whenever Nanako's getting on my nerves."

Suguru had seen that, it had been the last text before Mimiko sent her the address. "Why?"

"I don't know, I just like talking to her," she explained as she finished a braid and moved on to the next. "She listens and she's funny sometimes… and she asks about Nanako or how I'm doing with my schoolwork. She'll ask what I've been listening to or watching, but… but she doesn't ask about you."

She didn't need to. She could ask Satoru anything she wanted to. It was a bitter and jealous thought, and he told himself that it had nothing to do with why he broke her phone.

"Would it bother you if she did?"

"A little," she admitted. "Everyone always asks about you. What you're doing and what you're planning and what you're thinking. It's so irritating." He could tell it was even without her saying it by the way she tugged at his hair. "It's like Nanako and I don't even exist sometimes. And… I know she likes you, but she doesn't ask about you. It's nice, it feels like… like she sees me. Like I'm a person. Like I matter too. I guess… if I had to pick a reason to talk to her… that would be it."

"Of course you matter, you don't need to seek validation from a monkey. You and Nanako are important. Matsuda is the one who doesn't matter."

'I'm not a shaman or a sorcerer or whatever you want to call it and I don't matter.'

Even she knew she didn't matter so then why… why did she matter to Satoru? To Mimiko?

"She's not like the rest of them," Mimiko said softly. "She said she knew before Christmas and she never treated me differently. She… she shopped with us and helped me pick out a sweater."

That day had been just a little too coincidental, what were the odds of running into the same monkey that often? When Matsuda blushed, he thought he was paranoid. Suguru was aware of the effect he had on people, but if she knew anything about him, she wouldn't be blushing. How could she? He'd decided then that she didn't know anything, that it really was just a coincidence.

Except she had known for months. She knew who he was and how dangerous he was, and she still blushed when he looked at her, and often. She was a ridiculous, reckless woman.

A ridiculous woman who was quite pretty when she blushed.

"She's known since the summer," he muttered, decidedly ignoring that last thought. "Matsuda knew before you called her."

He had come home and told Mimiko to call her if she wanted, having no idea that Matsuda would go home and find out the truth. She knew the truth and she still answered Mimiko's call. He had been cooking dinner when Mimiko had called her and had even been in the same room. Matsuda knew and she had answered.

It didn't mean anything. It didn't change anything.

He listened while Mimiko talked about Matsuda and could hear the confidence in her voice while she explained that Matsuda was different. Mimiko swore that she wasn't like the rest of them, that she was an exception. He couldn't remember closing his eyes or even falling asleep, but he could remember thinking he'd never heard Mimiko sound so sure of anything.


Summer – 2015

Suguru was being punished. He wasn't sure which crime he was being punished for or when he had died, but he was in Hell. It was the only explanation.

A week after the hospital, he saw Matsuda. He had followed after her to ask… well he hadn't really figured that part out when he felt Satoru's cursed energy. Suguru had been horrified when he realized he had almost followed her to her home (had to be her's, because it wasn't flashy enough to be Satoru's). He couldn't even understand why he had been about to follow her. For what? To talk to her? To ask her… something? She was messing with his head. He would just have to work harder to avoid her.

For a month after he avoided going anywhere that wasn't strictly necessary, and he had managed to go that long without seeing her. Maybe that made him careless because with a vengeance he saw her the first time he left his home, he'd just wanted to take a walk, to get a break from the girls arguing (puberty was hell and he couldn't wait until it was over). He hid from her inside some cafe as soon as he saw her. It was crowded and the stench of monkeys permeated the air. It made his skin crawl, but he hid because… he wasn't sure why.

After that, a week was the longest he went without seeing her because he refused to be shackled to his home and the temple grounds over this insignificant woman. He started looking for any reason to leave the house, out of pure spite because he would not hide from her. Suguru was not a coward. He repeated these words to himself even while he hid from her in stores and alleyways (it was not pathetic). Though… he did learn things because, well, if he was going to be stuck hiding in a store (or an alleyway, or a restaurant, or a coffee shop) he may as well watch her through the window. He had to didn't he? To make sure she was gone so he could continue on his way.

Matsuda wore her hair up when it was hot.

Matsuda always had one headphone in, never both.

Matsuda had no problem yelling at someone in public.

Matsuda took every opportunity to stand between men and young girls.

Matsuda liked the color green, it was the color she wore most often besides black.

Matsuda did not like being hit on and she was not afraid to make that known to the men who tried.

None of it mattered, they were just observations he made until she was out of sight. Just things he noticed to pass the time. They had no bearing on anything, it didn't change his opinion of her.

Mimiko thought Matsuda was different, but she was a child and children were often wrong. Just like he had been wrong when he thought the weak were worth protecting, back when he thought that was his purpose in life. He wasn't even sure why he was avoiding her anymore, it wasn't as if she could do anything to him and if she was going to tell Satoru then she would have done it already. He doubted she would want to speak to him after everything that had transpired that night (not that he wanted to) and there really wasn't anything left to say.

He had been standing under an awning outside the restaurant, waiting for the food Nanako had asked for when he heard her screaming in the street. It was dark enough that she would have to pass right by him to see him so he didn't bother hiding (it was getting a little difficult to convince himself he wasn't a coward). This wasn't her usual yelling at strange men, she was laughing and leaning on a short woman. Her purse was half falling off her shoulder and Matsuda was drunk, she had to be the way she was swaying on her feet. He did not notice her exposed legs or the unusually short skirt she wore, because it really wasn't relevant at all.

Just as the two got their bearings, a man outside the bar across the street called for her, interrupting the giggling of the two women. He watched with surprise when Matsuda stopped in her tracks, trying to pull the shorter woman to her other side, almost knocking her over in the process. He could only barely catch what they were saying. The shorter one said something about leaving, or maybe not leaving?

When he had edged closer to the edge of the sidewalk to hear them better, there was no way to interpret that as anything other than eavesdropping, even to himself.

A man sauntered up to her, throwing his arm around Matsuda's shoulders and it was the first time he had ever seen her cower. The first time he had seen her look afraid of someone. He had listened to the story of when she'd met the twins more times than he cared to, and he'd seen her yell at people in the street and watched her tell men to 'go fuck themselves'. She never flinched, never seemed to hesitate.

Matsuda knew who he was and had never cowered. Maybe she had looked at him a little alarmed at times, maybe looking back she'd been more careful with how she spoke after she knew, but… she'd never seemed afraid of him. Not even when he… He didn't care to think about that.

Suguru especially didn't care for the way he wondered what his father would have said if he was still alive. Nothing good, nothing he would want to hear.

The man was all over her, whispering one moment and speaking loudly the next. Matsuda said something he couldn't catch and the man laughed at her. If he didn't know any better he would think they were lovers. Maybe they were.

Then why was she shaking? Why was she shouting?

Maybe this monkey was her boyfriend or lover and it wasn't any of his business. Except she looked afraid, and she mattered to Satoru and he couldn't just watch while something happened to her. The monkey started talking about drugs, loudly and without shame, putting his hand under Matsuda's shirt. She closed her eyes, looking every bit like a woman who had given up.

It didn't suit her.

Maybe he shouldn't interfere, but he was going to. He called to her because she might not matter to him, but she mattered to Satoru, to Mimiko. It would hurt them if anything happened to her. Her head turned and her eyes locked on him the moment she heard his voice, she was on the verge of tears. He had only seen her cry for her niece and there was something about her crying, drunk in the street that just struck him as very wrong.

She called back to him, sounding desperate and defeated, which wasn't like her, not at all. Matsuda was loud and angry and fought back and he couldn't understand why she was tolerating this man. Not until he crossed the street and the monkey bragged about violating her when she was a teenager.

Suguru felt sick in a way that reminded him of swallowing cursed spirits, an overwhelming nausea that had bile rising in the back of his throat. This monkey was proud. He had to be in his thirties and Matsuda wouldn't be too far off in age from Satoru so she had been significantly younger than him. It was revolting.

He had changed from that ignorant boy who thought the weak were worth protecting, but he still knew that there were lines that should never be crossed. It was unfathomable that someone would ever want to cross those lines.

'If I can do that for other little girls, then I will, because someone should have done that for me.'

This was the reason she behaved the way she did. This monkey was the reason for all those things Matsuda said when he first met her. It was the reason she made it a point to do something, to watch out for the twins when she saw them. The reason she'd been glad that he killed the man who harassed the girls. The reason she stood between girls and men in public. She had been hurt and she was trying not to watch it happen to others.

'I want to say that I did what I could, that I said something, that I asked, that I didn't look the other way.'

It was admirable, even if he didn't want it to be.

Matsuda looked at the man horrified, and it was the first time that night he heard any anger in her voice. Even still, it was a shadow of the anger he'd seen her have toward strange men. More than anything she was afraid of this monkey. She looked more afraid of this man than she did of Suguru, and he didn't understand how that was possible.

The monkey kept talking, running his mouth endlessly as he tried to shame her, and it was working. Matsuda wouldn't even look his way anymore, and it was enough. He had enough of listening to this man be so disgusting and so proud of what he'd done. Matsuda was a ridiculous, reckless woman, but she was also brave (what else could he call it, when she'd run up to him prepared to die). This fear and shame did not suit her. Matsuda might be a –

Whatever she was, she did not deserve to be treated like this.

The cursed spirit crawled out of that familiar black void, and he was used to the smell by now, knew to take careful breaths. The cold had stopped bothering him a long time ago, he'd devoured so many that the chill sat in his skin. It wasn't a particularly powerful spirit, but it didn't need to be as it draped itself around the monkey, not all too different from the way he'd draped himself around Matsuda. There was a certain irony about it that he enjoyed as the thing slithered along him. It was all gnashing teeth and too many eyes and too many mouths. He started gagging and the short woman who had become more of a spectator to the event was shaking.

Matsuda asked for his life.

Not in so many words, not with other people present and the monkeys outside the bar looking at them. He'd tuned it out for the most part but they were talking excitedly, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

He couldn't fathom any reason why she would want this man alive. Out of anyone she should want him dead the most. Hadn't she made a point of telling him she was glad that he'd killed the predator who harassed the twins? What was so different about this?

Did she care about him?

It wasn't his concern if she did. Suguru shouldn't have been interfering in the first place, this wasn't his business. He'd only done so because… because Satoru cared about her. This was her problem and if she wanted him to leave it alone then he would.

The monkey took his hands off Matsuda just as the cursed spirit retreated into the void. He looked on in disgust as the man vomited on the sidewalk, and when the short woman finally acted, he was… relieved was the best way to describe it. It was well timed, the way she grabbed hold of Matsuda and dragged her away. Suguru listened for their retreating steps, caught between going about his business and following them. He should… he should check on her, for Satoru, and make sure she was… okay. Matsuda seemed to have a knack for finding trouble and as drunk as she seemed, he doubted she would be able to get herself out of it. He'd leave if she asked him.

He had only just turned around to walk away when that monkey opened his mouth.

"She's not worth it."

If the monkey knew what was good for him, he would stay quiet.

"Don't get me wrong, she's a fun time," he really should stop talking, "but Natsu's probably fucked half of Tokyo by now. Hell, she's drunk enough she'd probably fuck us both, not like she hasn't done it before."

Suguru didn't remember deciding to turn back, but all the same, he found himself grabbing the monkey by the collar of his shirt.

"Shit, I was just joking, it's not that fucking serious!" The monkey held his hands up in defense, eyes wide as he tried to pull away. "I was just saying you don't have to work so hard to get her in bed."

He pulled his fist back and brought it forward, the familiar crunch of bone underneath his fist, cutting off whatever vile thing he would say next. Blood rushed down the monkey's face as he howled in pain, holding his hands over his nose. It was probably broken, and it should have been enough.

So then why did he keep hitting him?

This wasn't training or fighting an equal. This wasn't killing a monkey because they served no purpose. This was beating a man with his bare hands in the street because… because of the way he'd talked about Matsuda.

The monkey crumpled to the ground as soon as Suguru let him go, half-conscious and groaning in pain. Looking down at Kazumi's swollen and bloody face, he wanted to kill him, he should kill him, because what purpose did he serve? There was no reason to leave him alive, except… Matsuda had asked him not to.

Maybe, at this point, he'd have to admit that the things she said did matter.

Suguru turned away and left the man there, could vaguely hear panic from some of the onlookers outside the bar but he paid no attention to it. Another cursed spirit crawled out of the void, this one would kill him slowly, drawing the life out of him. She might have asked for his life, but he couldn't just let this man walk around with no consequences. He'd die a slow death and it was more than he deserved.

He wiped the blood from the back of his hand on his pants, they were dark enough that it should hide the stain. At least, he hoped it would hide the stain because he still had to check on Matsuda and he didn't want her to see it.

He wasn't sure what that meant.

It didn't take long to find them, all he had to do was walk in the general direction and listen for her voice. She was crying, blaming herself for what happened, and he was quite sure this man, whatever he'd done, was why she told the twins never to blame themselves. Matsuda blamed herself for whatever that man had done to her. He followed a short distance away, not wanting to draw their attention or intrude. When they sat on the front steps of an apartment complex, he decided he would wait until they were inside and then leave. Nanako was still waiting on him and he'd left them alone (they were old enough but it still made him nervous), and so as soon as they –

They were talking about him.

"He's not my friend."

Of course, they weren't friends, they couldn't be friends for a very long list of reasons. They weren't friends… but he'd thought maybe she believed they were.

"I'm hurt you don't think we're friends, Matsuda. After all the favors I've done for you." He wasn't sure what possessed him to say anything at all.

"I… don't think we are," her eyes flitted to her friend as she spoke.

Her friend didn't know who he was, which was probably for the best. He answered her question of how they knew each other as vaguely as he could, though not technically a lie. Even if Satoru never spoke to him again, even if they were nothing else, they would always be friends. Though, apparently everyone thought Satoru was much more than Matsuda's friend.

He might have been jealous if she didn't look offended at the mere mention of Satoru as being anything more to her than her niece's teacher. That was a reaction he'd never seen on someone other than Shouko and Utahime. She'd been much more passive at the hospital, was she being defensive because it was true? Or was she truly offended? At the very least she was family to Satoru, there was no way she wasn't after all those photos and texts between them. The way his arm had been slung around her in a few of those photos, begged the question if they were more than that.

Would it matter if they were?

"I need to talk to Getou-san, alone."

He raised a brow at her and watched the two go back and forth, debating whether or not Matsuda should stay with her friend or go home. She didn't seem as… drunk as she had before, her eyes were a bit more focused, but she was in no state to drive or wander around on her own.

"Hana, I can't. I just… I want to go home," her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. Matsuda wiped her eyes on her arm, trying to rid herself of the tears and smearing her makeup. It should have made her ugly, those dark smudges under her eyes and the wet lashes from crying. It didn't. But just like everything else, the fact that Matsuda was beautiful, even when she cried, did not matter.

"I'll take her home."

For Satoru. For Mimiko.

The short woman whispered in Matsuda's ear, but she kept her eyes on him. "Yeah, I trust him."

Maybe she was stupid because how could she possibly trust him? He had told her he wouldn't kill her at the hospital but that was months ago. That wasn't something she should rely on, even if he knew he wouldn't hurt her, she shouldn't be so trusting. When her friend said goodnight and the door to the apartment complex closed, Matsuda looked relieved. Maybe she didn't trust him, maybe it was a lie to get her friend out of the way.

He asked her if it was because maybe, just a little bit, he wanted her to trust him. Only to make his life a little easier, since avoiding her clearly wouldn't work.

"It's not a lie and… I know enough."

He was sure she thought she did. "Oh? What do you think you know about me?"

Matsuda sat straighter, shoulders pulled back as she stared at him critically. "I'll tell you if you promise you won't choke me again."

His stomach twisted and he couldn't help but take a step back, as if he could escape what he'd done. She didn't trust him, and she was right not to. There were lines that shouldn't be crossed. He might kill a monkey because it needed to be done but that didn't mean he walked around choking them first. Wrapping his hand around a woman's throat was never a line he'd crossed before. It wasn't a line he ever wanted to cross again. There wasn't much point in explaining. It wasn't as if she would believe him, and she shouldn't believe him.

Suguru tried to explain anyway.

Matsuda offered him a cigarette, seeming to accept his word for it. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't let it go so easily, she shouldn't be offering him cigarettes. Reckless and foolish.

He took the cigarette from her and sat with her, what would be the harm at this point? It wasn't as if he hadn't smoked with her before. All those times he'd talked and smoked with her… She'd known, all that time, and she'd never treated him any differently than she had when she met him. Matsuda had teased him and laughed at him and offered him cigarettes. She knew the whole time that he hated her. She knew why he hated her.

Nothing about her made any sense at all.

She brought up Shouko and before he could even stop to wonder how involved she was with people from his life (the old one, the one he'd abandoned), she was talking about Satoru. Matsuda mentioned him so casually and if he let her continue, she would end up getting sidetracked, the way Mimiko said she tended to do. The way he'd seen her do before.

When he finally got her to answer he wasn't prepared for it. He'd thought she would list out his crimes, or the things he'd told Satoru when he left but not… She said he was Nanako and Mimiko's father. It wasn't… he didn't call himself that. They didn't call him that. Was that something she'd decided? Was that how she saw him? The man who saved her niece? A father to the twins? Important to Satoru? They weren't the things he wanted to know, it wasn't what he was asking. Her observations about him didn't matter, he just wanted to know what she knew, but he should have let it be. She knew about his parents and he didn't realize he'd been hoping she didn't.

He didn't want her to know just like he'd wanted to hide the blood from her.

Before he could wonder too much about what it meant, she shifted again, talking about Satoru. They were close, and it was something he knew but it was different to hear from her lips how they had spent the next several days together. Satoru had leaned on her and confided in her, and it was… Satoru didn't confide in anyone, not even Shouko, but that was before. Before he left. Before he had changed. Before he had stopped answering Satoru's calls.

When he pressed her for details, her voice was soft as she asked him if he was sure. Suguru laughed, was she trying to spare his feelings? She thought he killed his parents, and she was speaking so gently to him. Satoru had told her far more than he should have, and she should know better than to sit here with him. She shouldn't be looking at him the way that she was, sympathy in those brown eyes.

He shouldn't be thinking about how pretty her eyes were. He definitely shouldn't be telling her that something else happened. Somehow, he was doing both and it felt like he'd left his sense at home. She wanted to know why he let her live when he hated her so much.

Did he hate her?

He had, he remembered hating her. He remembered wanting to kill her, stopping short because she was entertaining, and Mimiko liked her. At the time it seemed harmless to leave her be and let her amuse him but at some point, that hate had turned to tolerance. It didn't feel so harmless anymore because he could tell himself that checking on her and intervening had been for Satoru and Mimiko, he could believe that.

There was no way he could believe that beating a monkey in the street and then leaving him alive had been about anyone else but her. He'd only left him alive because she asked and… and it didn't make any sense. It didn't make sense how she could be glad one man was dead and then asked for this one to be left alive. There had to be a reason, something that explained it.

The softness in her eyes turned to anger when he asked, but he'd much rather see her angry with him than ever see her shrink in fear. Her tone was aggressive, and he interrupted her before she could go on a tirade like she had the day in the mall. Back when she really hadn't known anything. Back when he had hated her for existing.

"I'm… I'm like him though. I'm not a sorcerer either."

Matsuda was nothing like that monkey. Nothing at all and she wasn't… Mimiko had said she wasn't like the rest of them, and maybe, just a bit, she might be right. Because even in his thoughts, he had stopped calling her one. He couldn't even bring himself to say it in front of her, even if it wasn't to her. Just like he didn't want her to see the blood, just like he didn't want her to know about his parents, he didn't want her to hear him say it.

Did she even know it? Did she know what it meant?

He hoped that she didn't.

This time, he was the one who brought up Satoru and he regretted it immediately. He'd been trying to… he wasn't sure what he was trying to do. She'd closed her eyes, a small wrinkle forming between her brows and when she opened her eyes, he could see the guilt there as she talked about Satoru. She knew enough about them to know how much their interactions would hurt him. He didn't want to hear how this would hurt Satoru; he already knew that it would. For that reason alone, he should tell her to go inside with her friend and then walk away from this entire situation.

He didn't even try to move.

Matsuda told him she didn't want him to hate her more than he did. He couldn't find it in himself to blame her when she didn't find his explanation of why he didn't hate her comforting. It wasn't exactly a compliment to be called entertaining but what else could he say? It was easier to explain that he wouldn't kill her, because he could make that about Satoru and Mimiko and it wouldn't raise any questions from her. Or it shouldn't.

"I would never hurt Mimiko."

He believed her. Even if Matsuda hadn't called her, it was hard to hold it against her when he was the one who broke her phone. Conveniently, he hadn't mentioned that to Mimiko but surely Matsuda had a new phone by now.

She did, because Satoru had bought it for her.

Of course, he had. That was just like him, hadn't he done the same thing for Haibara once? Satoru had told him it was an old one he didn't use anymore so that Haibara would take it. Did Matsuda know that about him? That Satoru, for as insufferable as he could be at times, was also generous and considerate when he wanted to be. When it mattered.

The conversation lightened, she teased and spoke to him so casually. It felt like before. Before the hospital, before he had known that she knew Satoru, back when she was just some woman who talked to him. He teased her back and couldn't help thinking that he had missed talking to her casually, just a little. She was interesting.

He'd only been teasing when he asked for an apology, but it bothered her, setting her off on a rant. Aggressively putting out her cigarette and blaming him for the lies she'd had to tell but it wasn't as if he enjoyed lying to Satoru. It had to be done and if anything, she should be glad, the lie had benefited her. She was quick to point out that the lie had nothing to do with her. He told her that it had been about Satoru, that nothing had changed, and if Satoru knew the truth he would have hoped that something had changed. It was the only way to spare him the pain of hoping for something that wouldn't happen.

He couldn't help feeling like something had changed.

Suguru had let a monkey live because she'd asked. He was sitting much closer to her than he ever had, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Something had changed, he just wasn't sure what changed. Or how he'd let it.

Matsuda talked about pain as if she understood and he was angry with more than just her. He shouldn't be sitting here with her and Satoru shouldn't have told her and she had no idea. No idea what they'd been through. He didn't leave because he'd wanted to hurt him, it was just the way things had to be. It hurt to leave him, but Satoru could have come with him and he didn't, and that hurt too.

She yelled at him again and maybe this was his fault, the way she spoke to him, because he'd allowed it. Suguru needed to end whatever this was, he couldn't kill her and if he was honest, he didn't want to kill her. The situation was getting precarious and he needed to leave and never speak to her again.

"I do understand what he's feeling, at least a little bit."

Matsuda wouldn't look at him while she talked, her voice kept breaking and he was paralyzed by it. She sounded so broken, not so different from how she'd sounded when that monkey had been touching her. Not so different from when she said it was her fault. Not so different from when she'd talked about wanting to die. The one person, that meant more than anyone else, had left her and it had broken her.

She misunderstood his question from before, he wanted to know why she'd asked for his life not… not why she had let that man in her life. As if she could be blamed for that, she was just a girl, a teenager. He didn't have it in him to clarify, to push because she wasn't angry with him, she was angry for Satoru. Matsuda didn't want to see him hurt and maybe she did understand Satoru, just a little.

Maybe Suguru understood her too because the person who meant the most to her had died, and she lost a part of herself. About nine years ago a part of him died too and even though he had found Satoru, even though he had been alive, the part of him that died had stayed dead.

"Does it ever stop hurting?"

He didn't think he could ever kill Satoru. He knew what it felt like to spend almost a day believing he was dead. Hadn't he run around Tokyo looking for his body? No, he couldn't kill Satoru, but one day he'd cross a line and he'd force Satoru's hand. He wouldn't lay down and die, but if it came down between a choice of living at the cost of killing Satoru… It was a price he wasn't willing to pay. Maybe Matsuda would be there for Satoru if the day ever came. He still hoped it wouldn't, that maybe Satoru would see his side, that maybe Satoru would be just as unwilling to kill him even if Suguru did cross that line (even if hope was something that none of them should have).

Matsuda didn't give him the answer he wanted, and worse she brought up that monkey again. He still couldn't fathom why she had interfered.

"Why didn't you let me kill him?"

He regretted asking because one moment, he was trying to assure her he wouldn't hurt her and the next she was asking him about his parents. It wasn't the question itself it was… it was the tone she used, the sudden shift in conversation. Not long ago she'd been speaking so softly, asking him if he was sure he wanted to know, and now her words cut through and there was an accusation there. She was confusing, and it didn't help make things any clearer for him when he looked at her. The blush spread across her face as she tried to backtrack, to say that she should never have asked in the first place.

It gave him whiplash.

What would she say, if she knew the truth? It would be… risky to tell her the truth, she could tell Satoru and if she did it would complicate things. Satoru might do something stupid like confront him, and that couldn't happen before it was time. If he told her and she said anything to Mimiko, it would hurt her. It would set her back, so far and she may never trust him again. But Matsuda was an odd woman, and if she didn't react badly, it might help Mimiko in the long term.

"Keys."

"What?"

"I told your friend that I would take you home. I will… I will tell you on the way there." If he was honest, a part of him just wanted to know what she would say because without fail Matsuda always said something interesting.

She passed him the keys without complaint, without even questioning him, her fingers accidentally brushing against his palm as she did. Her cheeks were still tinged pink as she gathered up her purse, and he found himself helping her stand. He shouldn't want to touch her, and he told himself he didn't, was trying to come up with every excuse so that he didn't face the reality of it. Surely it wouldn't kill him to help her walk to her car. Besides if she tripped, he'd have to help her up anyway… and she was warm and soft as she leaned into him, her hand pressed against his back.

There weren't a lot of ways he could explain away enjoying her touch.

Matsuda expressed a vague concern about stalking. It was probably not the best time to explain he'd seen her so many times over the last months that he'd lost track (not that he'd ever counted to begin with). She seemed to enjoy teasing him for his accidental stalking rather than showing any real concern for it.

He waited until they fell into a comfortable silence, a relaxed smile on her face and the small dimple in her cheek showing. There wasn't ever going to be a good time to explain what happened and he kept it vague, the short version of it all.

Suguru wasn't ready to tell her that even though Mimiko did it, it was still his fault. It was a bad judgment call but he had just needed an hour, or two, to be alone. He could still hear their screams after what he had done and he just needed time, to sit with it, to accept what he had done. To accept what it meant going forward, to accept that Satoru would never forgive it, and even if he did no one else would. Nothing would ever be the same.

He should have known better than to leave two traumatized five-year-old girls alone with strangers. Nanako had asked him not to go and he should have listened, should have noticed the way they had clung to him the whole way back to Tokyo. He should have noticed the fear in their eyes and the way Nanako jumped at every sound.

When he got back to his parents' house the first thing he saw was his parents on the floor, strangled to death. The girls had been huddled together, clinging to each other while Mimiko cried, clutching at the doll he'd found her with. It had taken days to get the whole story out of them.

His mother had been trying to comfort them while his father had been making them something to eat. His father had always been clumsy, bumping into things and dropping things. It was just an accident, a simple thing and if Suguru had been there maybe it would have been fine. His father had dropped something, and the sound had scared them. Nanako screamed and Mimiko reacted and… and his parents were dead.

He'd covered it up as much as he could, grabbed the girls, and never looked back. They were dead and it was his fault, the details didn't matter.

Suguru gave Matsuda the short version, it was almost no information at all, but she'd decided it was an accident without him ever explaining. She wanted to know if Mimiko was okay, and she was so sure that Mimiko would never hurt someone for the sake of it. She thought Mimiko was like him.

It was interesting, the way she saw him, and the distinctions and lines she drew. Her morals were… odd. It was fine that he killed people because she didn't think he enjoyed it. It was fine if he killed that monkey, she just didn't want her friend to see it.

Matsuda was as interesting as she was odd.

When they reached her home, he walked around the car to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. There was no good excuse for helping her up the steps (she didn't seem like she needed it anymore) and he stopped trying to look for one. She was blushing again as they stood outside her home, her eyes flitting down to his lips. He couldn't stop himself from doing the same, her lips were full and they looked soft and – They were suddenly very, very close.

Matsuda was going to kiss him.

He should stop her, he should leave. He shouldn't be there, with her, he shouldn't have been touching her. Her lips were soft and warm as she kissed him, if you could call it that. She was barely touching her lips to his and he shouldn't be letting her kiss him. She was still a – She was a – She was –

She was Matsuda, and maybe that was all that mattered.

Suguru was chasing her lips with his own as she pulled away, he couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to. That flicker of doubt reared its ugly head because he should not be here. Her hands on his chest and her fingers in his hair made it so easy to ignore that thought. He wanted more of her, her softness and her warmth, to feel her touch him. He could taste the liquor and the cigarettes on her tongue but there was a sweetness there, something that was all her.

Would it be so wrong if he let himself drown in it? To drown in her warmth and her taste? His heart raced when her fingertips dragged across his scalp and how could he deny her when she pulled him closer?

He could feel her heart beating in her chest as he pressed himself against her. She touched him as if it didn't even occur to her that she shouldn't, her hands sliding under his shirt. He kissed along her jaw and opened his eyes just a bit, just enough to see her flushed face and parted lips. She was beautiful and he should have kissed her sooner.

Her fingers trailed the edge of his scar and he could smell the blood and the gunpowder. He could hear the gunshot and that monkey's voice. It was all he could hear, the way he bragged about killing Riko, killing Satoru, how they had all lost to a monkey.

He was touching a monkey. He was touching her and kissing her and –

Matsuda wasn't a monkey. She wasn't. She wasn't. She wasn't.

Her hands were still pressed against him, but they hadn't moved, she was afraid, and she should be. He refused to look at her face as he pulled away, didn't want to see the fear he knew was there. He needed to put as much distance between them as possible. All the distance in the world didn't matter when her voice cracked as she said goodnight. It was so tempting to stay, to turn back, and to, at the very least, explain what was happening.

How could he explain what was happening when he didn't know himself?

The door shut and he rubbed his chest, trying to soothe the ache that he knew wasn't real. Shouko had healed it beautifully, the scar might be there but there was no lasting damage. He knew it didn't really hurt but sometimes, when he thought about it too hard, when he heard that monkey's laughter while he watched Riko die in his dreams again and again and again – It didn't matter if the pain wasn't real. It felt real enough. The part of him that knew it wasn't, also knew that he might hurt Matsuda if he didn't leave.

Suguru didn't want to hurt her, and it had nothing to do with anyone else.