She would have to organize her thoughts, fill her mind with this new information, and engrain every detail in her memory—everything he had said needed to be considered, even how he said it. She replayed his words, expressions, and tone in her mind, acknowledging that everything could be crucial.
But she was exhausted; she'd been left sleepless for months on end for this very moment. Her victory was a massive step forward, yet it felt insignificant in comparison to everything that still had to be said and done. Though joy did glimmer within her, faintly flickering in the darkness of her shattered spirit.
Yet it was not enough to fuel her through another moment. She could rest, he was encaged, and there were immeasurable amounts of precautions to ensure he stayed there. The thought of her elaborate security measures provided a small sense of relief.
As she made her way up the steps of the eerie basement, moonlight shone on her. Exposing her neglected state, this had gone for too long. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were hallow from the lack of sleep. She was startled as she saw her reflection in a passing window; she hardly recognized herself; she'd become a different person in the pursuit of justice.
Once her body was close enough, she collapsed onto the torn burgundy sofa. The fabric was worn and frayed. Tomorrow she would figure out her plan; now she needed rest. She'd earned this rest, even if it was brief.
She fell into a deep sleep effortlessly, embracing the shadows that pulled her in deeper. Letting her lids hang heavy and her breaths shallow. Her body sank into the sofa, and her mind drifted.
As her mind finally rested, her body refused to follow suit. Just as she was deep into her sleep, her body rose. As if her body knew her work was not yet done. Mindlessly pacing around the house, searching for a pen and scraps of paper. She was driven by an invisible force that led her back to her old dinner table.
She sat at the table and began to frantically write. Her letter was incoherent at first, leaving sentences unfinished and placing words without any particular order. But the more she wrote, the clearer it got. Her thoughts began to align, and slowly the words found their place on the pages.
Going into impeccable detail towards the final pages, telling an intricate story with her words. Immersing the reader into her mind along with her.
The sound of the pen scratching at the pages beneath it, trying to keep up with her pace. Her eyes remained closed, but her thoughts spilled onto the page violently. A sense of urgency humming within was so great she felt it in her dream.
As she finished her mindless flow of consciousness, she placed the pen down. Observing the pages of writing before her but never opening her eyes. Satisfied, her body dropped onto the table. Allowing her full peace and rest.
—
Sunlight was peeking through the cracks of the house, illuminating her skin. It caressed her body with warmth ever so gently. The golden light filled her ash-colored hair with a newfound depth in color. It shimmered softly, restoring life into her.
Her body was still in the same position it placed itself in the night before, after writing the letters. Limp on the mahogany table that was covered with her frantic writing. Her arms hung off the sides of the table, leaving her head only to be supported by the table. Her hands, smudged with blue ink, slightly twitched involuntarily.
Everything else was so still and peaceful; the only sure sign she was alive was the faint rise and fall of her chest. The world around her was still, seemingly working to not disturb her rest. The quiet house, guarding her from the chaos of the outside world.
She'd needed one night of complete silence from the world that moved so quickly months ago. A world that turned her life completely upside down within seconds, pulling her into a relentless spiral that drained her physically and mentally.
Time passed around her, the sun slowly making its way higher into the sky and filling the dining room with light. The sun traced up her skin, from her fingertips to her collarbone, until meeting her eyes. Beaming gently signaling her senses that the day had now started. The warmth pulled her from her deep sleep.
She fluttered her eyes open, adjusting to the light pouring in her eyes, blinking away the haziness of her sleep. She picked her head up, momentarily confused as to what had happened hours ago. The previous night was hazy, leaving her unsure of when she'd gotten there and where these pages before her emerged from.
She took a better look at the pages, realizing that what had been written on them were the details of the previous night. Each line was an indication of her mind's attempt to capture the thoughts and emotions. As she read, she recognized the handwriting as her own, yet she had no recollection of writing it down. Her subconscious had taken over, recording fragments of her memories whilst she slept.
She took the pages and stacked them in a pile, the rustle of paper breaking the stillness around her. Her mind was a mix of confusion and admiration, understanding that even in her exhaustion, some part of her had the drive to write this all down.
Standing up, she stretched, feeling the stiffness in her muscles from the awkward position she'd slept in. Looking around the room, now fully bathed in sunlight, she took a deep breath. Today, she would delve into those pages and piece together the fragments of her memory to create a plan with the clarity that sleep had graciously given her.
With the pages clutched in her hand, she knew for the first time in months she felt ready to face the situation head-on. The letters were more than just a summary of events; they were a bridge to understanding her next steps. As she stood there, the sunlight enveloping her, she felt a sense of determination spark within her.
Asami retold herself the story of her memories countless times, keeping tabs in her memory of the small things he'd said and done. She was pacing around the room, trying to fully capture that information he had been willing to share and remembering what he hadn't been so generous to recount to her.
He had clarified that he was not the one who took her back to his place, but he also hadn't told her to leave. He'd simply left her there with a note. As much as he's denying not caring for her, he never made efforts to undo what was playing out in her favor. He didn't kick her out of his home, and he didn't try to escape the trap after he'd fallen in.
But he did constantly go through strenuous efforts to ensure her safety, even if it risked his own. Choso dove in the water for her; if he'd been attacked, he'd be vulnerable as his blood would not work in the water. He fought curses for her whenever she was in trouble, and clearly that had no limit to distance.
He'd also kept things from her; she had tried asking about his motives for everything recently, but he gave the same excuse of not wanting her to die just yet. Though that may be true, it wasn't the whole truth; he was holding something back, and she'd need to figure it out soon. But she didn't want to push her luck too far.
Eager to get more answers, she made her way to the steps leading into the basement. She suppressed her emotions, trying to look serious and determined. She pushed forward, taking confident strides. Her steps are quiet and undetectable.
She was at the end of the steps looking toward the man in the glass prison; he was asleep. His body was on the floor, laying flat on his back. While his hands rested on his chest, rising and falling with every breath he took. She got closer, opening a small compartment on the cage and placing food inside that she prepared amidst her pacing earlier when organizing her thoughts.
The smell traveled quickly in his confinement as he soon woke up to what she assumed was due to the aroma. His head perked up, and the rest of his body followed. He was now resting his back on the glass and looking in between her and the food.
"I brought it so you could eat, not stare. I need you alive just as you needed me," she said in a mocking tone as she motioned toward the food.
He didn't hesitate at the invitation and walked forward, picking it off the compartment and taking it back with him to the floor.
"When you found me in your cabin, why didn't you kick me out?" The curiosity for more answers was eating away at her.
His eyes were focused on the food in front of him, carefully picking at the plate. His eyes stayed looking down as he answered. "I didn't see a reason to; it was less work for me to know you were away from danger."
"Then why leave the note and make it sound like you'd done me a favor and brought me there yourself?" His unclear answers started to irritate her.
His eyes met hers finally, cold and collected. "The note had no sentiment; really, I'd only done it to mess with your head. I know how organized you like to be with your details." A mischievous smirk tugged at his features. "I have a question for you." Curiosity lingered in his tone.
She fought the urge to show a look of disgust. "You don't get to ask questions; you merely answer them. or did you forget what's on the line?" Her voice was harsh, making it clear she didn't have much patience for this.
"Fine; then I'm done for the day. I did agree to answer all your questions, but never did I say when I'd answer them. and I don't feel like talking anymore today." A sense of amusement in his tone rang in her ears. Making her ever more irritable than before.
She'd wondered how even now, as he had high stakes against him and no way to defend them, he still had the nerve to challenge her authority.
"What makes you think you can set up your little boundaries in this situation? You can't hold anything over me."
He focused his attention back at a green grape he held. Rolling it between his pointer and middle finger. His face was emotionless, yet she could feel his excitement behind his features as he spoke again.
"I know how desperately you want to know about the incident with your sister. I also know you're too scared to ask because you're afraid of what I might say."
He raised an eyebrow, averting his gaze only slightly back to her. Challenging her reserve.
Her spine ran cold, but her blood boiled. Why would he bring this up now? How could something like him know anything about her?
As much as she wanted to kill him right then and there. She pushed her feelings as far back as she could. Finding a corner for them in her mind. Because curiosity had piqued her interest now. "What's your question?"
"Why did it take you this long to put any real effort into capturing me? I'm aware that you never gave me your all. You're a smart little dove. I knew you were capable of more. But you always held back." He met her eyes, looking through his lashes. In such a seductive manner, she wondered if there was more to that question that he said. "You never gave me the pleasure of a true fight." His tone was confident and sultry.
She felt briefly fluttered by this change in demeanor. The way he talked was something new, and that look he was giving her was—she shook herself back to the real world.
This had been the second time he'd done this to her. Was it to get her to accidentally open up more? Regardless, she fixed her composure before speaking again. "I wasn't ready; I needed more time to complete everything." This wasn't a lie, just not the full truth.
"Back to my questions. How do you always appear when I'm in danger?" She slowly made her way around the glass cage. Her footsteps echoing behind her.
"I just have a feeling that you're doing something you shouldn't be." His eyes followed her steps.
She found herself behind the wall of where he sat. "But you appear at the perfect time. No matter the distance clearly."
"Coincidence that our travel schedules lined up. Japan isn't hard to navigate either; it's easy to find you in time."
She couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or if he was bluffing. Trying to make his actions seem less heroic.
She lowered herself to his height on the ground. "Why didn't you put more effort into avoiding my trap earlier? I also know you're very smart; staying alive 150 years isn't easy. A curse like you isn't easily fooled by a trap like that." Her words sounded breathier and warmer than she'd wanted.
He choked on his words, her voice surprising him. "I was caught off guard; I figured you were in danger, not that you had some scheme in the bigger picture of this attack." He tried playing off an annoyed demeanor.
Asami was now slightly aware of the power her voice held over him. This time, she purposefully made her voice low and smokey. "I find that hard to believe. Even if you were aware of it before, you would have been fast enough to divert your body's trajectory from the hole to solid ground."
He finally turned his body to face hers, holding her glare with sultry eyes. Trying to seem unaffected by her sudden actions.
"I was busy ensuring the curse wouldn't kill you; I didn't think to look around for hidden traps." Choso's voice was silk; the way he talked was filled with sarcasm. Yet it felt real, vulnerable.
"If it was this easy to get you here, I would have done it a while ago. But you're not easy to come around, much less trap and keep around." She stood back up, looking down at him.
This dynamic felt strange for both of them. It was uncomfortable; it needed to stop. "You can believe me or not. I'm not going to argue about this topic any longer. I'm tired of the back and forth."
Asami knew he was trying to get out of this situation, but frankly so was she. What was she doing? "Fine, we'll talk again after you've slept more." She looked him up and down; a clear sense of disgust spread across her face. "Clearly you need it." She turned around and walked off once more.
She made her way up the stairs, almost running as she got out of Choso's line of view. She was gasping for air as she reached the top. Unsure if it was the running or that situation that'd made her lungs feel like they'd been set ablaze.