Ink Stained

51: who is at fault?*

誰が間違っていますか？

 wake up...Wake up...WAKE UP!

Her eyes snapped open as she jerked awake on the bed she lay on.

She regretted moving so suddenly when the cavern in her stomach doubled, a headache pounding relentlessly at the base of her skull, like a horse's hooves stomping on her head. She squeezed her eyes shut on the nausea rolling through her, wheezing as she breathed slowly through her nose and waited it out.

Why did you do that...?

We're bored. You could sleep for weeks if we let you. We didn't think the illusion of pain would affect you so.

In an instant, she recalled everything that had happened. As she lay on the bed, images played out into a memory behind her closed eyes; going to the third year's classrooms, watching Kurebayashi's left eyebrow lift slightly as he told her the time, the way the light of the mid-afternoon sun reflected off the tall glass buildings in the distance. Then the exhaustion swept over her, accompanied by a terrible pain that she now knew Kuniumi had only made her think she was feeling.

She was tired. Still so, so tired. Her body lay heavy on the bed. She wondered if she could make herself move, or if she was stuck to the bed, weighed down by the guilt and frustration that gnawed on her like rats.

Why don't you let me, then?

Because you'll die.

She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the blades of the still fan in the ceiling, tracing the veins of rust spreading from the outer edges to the inside. She imagined something similar to the rust building inside of her, weaving together like a spider's web that was cast over her, trapping her. It rendered her incapable of moving forward like everyone else seemed to be doing.

But then again, nobody else had been in the bathroom with her and Shiharu and Teke Teke. It was just her, and she had done nothing.

You should let me.

Die?

Yes.

Why?

Because I deserve it.

Kuniumi snorted derisively. Do not let people make you sad. They will all die.

That might be true. But there were times allotted to people. They had lives to live in those times; sorrows to wallow and crawl out from, joys to leap and bound through. People shouldn't die before they were supposed to, yet she had stolen the sands of time from so many.

Maybe she'd been doing it to protect someone, but who was there to protect now? She had no memories of her life for the three years she'd been missing. She'd let Shiharu's time be stolen from her when she could have done something to stop it.

Don't be like Shiori, like Hiyori, like Manami. They are selfish. They keep you when you want to go.

Selfish? She echoed. How am I being selfish?

Those who crave death do so because they want a reprieve from their endless troubles. You want death so that this guilt stalking you will no longer be. An end to one's life like that shows one to be weak. Kuniumi's voice was hard and unyielding. You are not weak. We will not let you be weak.