これは。。。
Shiori is left staring into empty space in dumbfounded silence.
Her mind reels as she struggles to parse through everything the woman said. Her accusations of Shiori's selfishness, her claims of Pai's impending hatred towards her, blaming her for saving her life because she didn't want to be alone. Shiori – she can't bear the thought of Pai hating her. It's painful to even try imagining a world in which the two of them weren't friends anymore, a world in which Pai blamed her for grievances Shiori was responsible for.
But how could that be? Why would Pai hate her for saving her life? Pai – she – they're best friends.
She hears a sound.
It's a soft whimper, full of pain – it's Pai, making the same sound Shiori had heard a year ago, when she found Pai had almost died protecting Shiori only days after she'd been found at the bottom of the hill Ayashi House stands on.
×
Shiori was mad. She was fuming. She was so much more angry than she could remember being in a long time, her hands shaking from the overwhelming, conflicting emotions warring in her chest and tightening her ribs around her heart until she felt like she could barely breathe.
It was not like she didn't understand why Kouta was behaving like this. She did, she did. What infuriated her was that, even though he always looked like he was listening to her arguments, she knew he was not really actually listening to what she was saying. She knew that a big part of him was already making up his mind about this situation, and it hurt her to know that no matter what she was saying to him, he wasn't listening to her.
She hated it.
She hated this whole mess.
Shiori expelled a frustrated exhale through her gritted teeth as she stomped down the path, on her way down the hill and into town. If she ended up on a train and just getting somewhere away from Kouta and Ayashi House and everything, she wouldn't mind – but at the same time, even as she thought about it, she knew she wouldn't do that. She knew that Kouta was just trying to protect her, protect everyone, but she couldn't leave, not until she knew what Kouta's final decision would be.
She hated that shaky feeling in her gut, too, that told her she wouldn't just up and go on some random trip because no matter how much she trusted Kouta, no matter what she trusted him with...she didn't trust him with Pai.
The leaves crunching underfoot was the only sound she heard as she came to a slow stop, standing at the top of the hill, overlooking the edge of town. Her throat was thick with tears that burned her eyes as she stared at out, her pursed lips wobbling as she tried not to start crying. It was a mess. This whole situation was so frustrating and it was such a mess, and there was no one Shiori could even blame for any of it. There was always the people who took Pai to blame, but Pai didn't remember where she'd been the last three years or why her hair was stark white (and despite Kouta's misgivings, Shiori believed her), and despite being so angry with him about it, a part of Shiori understood why he was so wary to let Pai stay.
The other Clans were always looking for a way to undermine each other, and even though she had chosen to align herself with the Tengu, chosen to be Kouta's bride, there were still those that would try to change that. She saw the logic behind thinking that Pai was some kind of spy for one of the other Clans, but...she wasn't.
Pai wasn't a spy, and it was like Shiori was the only one who could see it. Granted, Pai was trying not to let it show, but Shiori could see how confused and ill at ease and cast adrift Pai was, to be waking up one day without any memory of the last three years. Shiori knew Pai best; if she was a spy, Shiori would know.
She just didn't know how to convince Kouta of that.
Shiori sighed explosively as she dropped to sit on her haunches, arms crossed over her knees and her chin propped up on her elbow as she stared gloomily out ahead of her. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what more she could do to convince Kouta to let Pai stay besides pulling the 'she's my best friend' card again, and she had already done that so much she may as well get a shirt with those words printed on it. Obaasan and Ryu had vouched for Pai, but they were all in the same boat either way, to Kouta; they knew the Pai of three years ago. They didn't know what kind of person she was now.
Shiori didn't know how to make Kouta see that Pai was still the same person. She could see it, so viscerally that it was like literally taking a peek into the past. While three years had passed for her, it had been no time at all for Pai. In the last week since Pai was found, Shiori could see that even though Pai seemed to have (barely) come to accept that she was eighteen now, that three years had passed (in the literal blink of an eye for her), she still behaved the same way she did before she went missing. She still had the same little tells and tics that Shiori couldn't believe were faked or forced
For Pai, it was still like she's fifteen years old. Physically she was eighteen now, but mentally, she was still the same girl she was when she disappeared. Shiori could see that, but how was she going to make Kouta see that too?
What could she do? Pai had nowhere else to go. She was back (she was back, she was back), but her parents and her sister were still missing. Shiori had no idea how Kouta could still distrust her after seeing the horrified, gutted look on Pai's face when she learned that her entire family was missing and no one knew anything. Pai didn't have any surviving grandparents she could live with, no aunts or uncles she could stay with.
Pai was on her own, and nothing Shiori was doing was changing that.
Shiori was abruptly ripped from her frustrated musings when a sudden flash of ice-cold washed over her entire body as warning before the leaves on the ground crunched behind her as something heavy and big dragged itself over them.
Towards her.
Shiori leaped to her feet and darted forward in a second, twisting on her heel to turn back to see what it was – her heart stuttered to a near-stop in her chest at the sight of the thing behind her.
Hives broke out over her skin, something deeply ingrained in her curling up in simultaneous disgust and fear – she hated snakes. She hated them more than she could say; she couldn't even stand to look at pictures of them. She knew how irrational she was about it as well; she'd never had any bad encounters with snakes at all, and had only seen them once from across thick glass windows when her family and Pai's family went on a joined trip to Gunma and stopped by the snake centre in Ota.
Shiori, and Pai to a lesser extent, were freaked out enough that the visit was cut short. Neither of them told their parents it was because they'd caught the eye of one of the caretakers they'd seen tending to some of the larger snakes in the enclosures had turned to look at them as they walked past.
The man had snake eyes; irises that looked made from pale red skin, pupils contracted in thin slits that flared to black holes when the man spotted Shiori. Even Pai, generally the better of the two at hiding knee-jerk reactions to Ayakashi, was disturbed enough that she was the one who climbed into Shiori's bed that night and let Shiori quake and shiver beside her in fitful sleep until morning.
The only thing that comforted her about snakes was that they were not supposed to attack unless you strike out at them first.
This one clearly didn't subscribe to that thought.
The creature rising up to flare its hood at her now could only be described as a towering, fat snake, its middle engorged like it had already just swallowed some large animal and was being greedy as it fixed its hungry slitted eyes on her from an abnormally round face. It looked like some horrific cross between a cobra and a rattlesnake, and though it was large enough to stand at the height of a six-foot tall man, it didn't look like its body was particularly long like most snakes.
That did nothing to make it look less menacing, in no small part thanks to the double row of small, sharp spikes lining along its back. At the end of its tail was a large, blade-like spike that looked sharp enough to decapitate a human. Even though it was not very long, Shiori had no problem imagining, in a split second, all kinds of horrific scenarios with it wrapping itself around her and squeezing her to death.
Shiori had no idea how she didn't realize this thing was right behind her, was so close, this whole time. It was large, large enough that it would have made some kind of sounds as it followed her, but she heard nothing. Its skin was made of dappled greens and browns, blending perfectly into the background even as it rose up right in front of her, almost like Shiori's eyes were losing track of it despite it being right there.
She had the instinctual urge to turn her face away, to close her eyes, anything to get the snake – the Tsuchinoko, because that was what it was, she knew that was what it was – out of her sight, but she knew it would be a death sentence for her.
She did the only thing her stunned, panicked brain could think of; she rapidly started backing away, keeping her eyes on it, and screamed like a madwoman being murdered.
In the same instant, the snake jumped – jumped, as if it was about to take flight – and lunged for her.
She didn't know what she was screaming as she ducked around a tree and started sprinting uphill for the house. She was sure she was calling for help, maybe calling Kouta's name, all while cursing herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings, for going on this walk without telling anyone where she was going. She was almost seventeen, what was she thinking, just going off on her own without letting anyone else know that she was leaving the house?
The back of her neck prickled, and she ducked, dodging to the side and knocking into a tree hard enough that it felt like all her organs jumped from the force of it. Slightly dazed, she looked up again just in time to see the body of the snake sail forward in a jump that would have caught her around her neck if she hadn't moved in time.
The Tsuchinoko landed heavily on the leaf-covered ground several feet ahead of her, testament to how powerful a leap it had taken. It curled up on itself, winding its body around as it shook its head and made a chirping sound that almost sounded like a bird, before turning to glare at Shiori with eyes that glowed, its sclera a baleful red, the edges of the slit black pupil lined in yellow.
The distance gave Shiori enough time to backtrack and sprint in a looping circle towards the boundary wall, but – she walked too far, she could see the wall but it was still far away, enough that when she glanced back to see where the Tsuchinoko is, she saw it had already almost closed in on her, the distance between them more than halved enough that she knew she wouldn't make it to the boundary if she kept going in a clear circle.
She started zigzagging, running as fast as her aching lungs and burning legs would let her as she ran in a meandering path to the boundary wall that was taking too long but keeping the Tsuchinoko from taking another flying leap at her, one she knew would reach her where the other had fallen short.
The Tsuchinoko was giving chase, and despite its weird, bulky body, it didn't look like it was going to let up any time soon.
If she could just get to the boundary, it would be okay. She walked far enough that the protective energy of the boundary wall couldn't reach her, but as soon as she got close enough, she would be safe. The Tsuchinoko wouldn't be able to follow her there. It was still only a Yori Chiisai, no matter how frightening to a human it was. It could never compete against Hengen; it served Hengen.
If she could just get to the wall...
Everything that happened next whizzed by her so quickly that it was like she merely blinked and it all already happened, even as every moment seemed to take a century to pass.
Shiori tried to run around a tree with a wide girth, but she didn't see its upraised roots partially hidden by dozens of fallen leaves. Shooting pain lanced up her arm as she tried to catch her fall and landed wrong on her wrist, a pained yelp escaping her before she could stop it.
Adrenaline still pumping thickly through her, she flipped on her back and immediately started scrambling backwards, trying to put distance between her and the Tsuchinoko before pushing herself to her feet with her uninjured hand braced on the tree, and backing away. The Tsuchinoko reared up, almost to full height as it balanced on the strength of its powerful tail.
She needed to go. She needed to run. She needed to –
"Shiori!"
Shiori's heart climbed up her throat at breakneck speed as she jerked her head at the call of her name. All in the space of half a second, her stomach exploded in light flurries, relief filling her to the brim, thinking that someone heard her screaming, Kouta was here, someone was here, it was going to be okay.
Streaming, stark white hair zipped by her so fast, the sight of it so jarring a shock that Shiori's neck hurt from how quickly she snapped her head to stare in wide-eyed awe as Pai – Pai, Pai, where did she even come from – ran past her –
Straight for the Tsuchinoko.
With a heaving yell, hoarse from how quiet and withdrawn she had been since waking up less than a week ago, Pai brought up the hefty branch in her hands, little cuts scattered all over her hands from how hard she was gripping the branch, and swung it with all the force of the momentum that sped her down the hill.
She smashed the branch right into the Tsuchinoko's equally startled, hideous face, snake eyes wide, jaw hanging open in a warning, chirping hiss.
The heavy branch caught the Tsuchinoko right in its eyes, splintered pieces of wood scattering as the branch shattered on impact, sending a raining hale of wood over the creature's head. The Tsuchinoko screamed in pain as pieces of sharp wood enter its eye, and it writhed in aggravated agony.
Shiori saw what was going to happen a second before it did, and by then it was too late.
The monster immediately curled in on itself, body winding down but thrashing wildly in pain, in total disregard for anything outside of itself. Pai was too close, not having the chance to back up after striking the Tsuchinoko, everything happening too fast, faster than either of them could move.
Shiori could only stare in bated dread as the bladed end of the tail whipped out in a vicious slash, slicing through Pai's stomach with a tear of cloth and the sickening sound of flesh being cut into, thick drops of blood splattering the leaf-covered ground.
×
Shiori will never forget that moment. Pai, facing her with the writhing Tsuchinoko separating them. Shiori, staring in dawning horror as the blade sliced at Pai, the sound that left her high-pitched and shocked, scared, pained. Staring, as blood quickly stained the white dress Pai was wearing, staring at the look of almost comical disbelief on Pai's face, a look that quickly devolved into overwhelming pain as she stumbled and fell to her knees, hunching over as her hands stained red and pressed into her bleeding stomach.
The Daitengu came then, alerted by her screaming. They swiftly took care of the Tsuchinoko, hacking it to pieces to prevent it from healing itself and dealing more damage, as Shiori ran for Pai. She'd pressed on the gaping wound in her stomach because that's what she thought she was supposed to do, and crying as she watched the blood ooze around her fingers and dye the green grass around them.
She hated what Pai said to her as Shiori cried. 'It's okay, Shii-chan, it's okay, stop crying, it's okay.' She kept saying it over and over again, even as her breath hitched with pain and her eyes shut tight, verging on unconsciousness and still saying that like everything was okay when it wasn't.
Shiori remembers how pathetic and useless she felt, crying when it was Pai who was bleeding. She remembers that terrible feeling in her chest, that fear that she would lose Pai again just when she'd gotten her back. She still remembers the heat of Pai's blood on her hands, and how polar that warmth felt when Shiori touched a hand to Pai's cheek and found her skin cold as ice.
Pai would have bled out if Daichi hadn't arrived and taken her, flying back to Ayashi House to bring her to Kanou to get treated. As Daichi had lifted her in his arms, Pai made that sound, that little whimper of trying to suppress the urge to cry out in pain.
As she watched Pai and Daichi disappear through the mist that almost permanently hangs over the hill their home stands on, Shiori remembers wondering how Pai had been able to see the Tsuchinoko through its camouflage. Even as she'd run from it, Shiori had often lost sight of it as it was moving, so good was its ability to hide itself in the surroundings even while in motion.
Shiori turns from staring into the fog where the woman disappeared, and looks at Pai. She doesn't immediately see her, and for a moment her heart pounds with the fear that she's lost her, she had been so close to Pai and now she's lost her and all this was for nothing.
Then the sound comes again. There's movement up ahead, and Shiori finally spies a head of dark hair a little ways in front of her.
She glances down at the cloud-ground. She can't see what it is that she's standing on, nor can she see where the holes are to know where to step. Shiori carefully goes down on her knees and feels around in front of her with her hands as she begins to crawl over the cloud-ground, heading straight in the direction where she saw Pai. She keeps her eyes peeled open, fingers scrabbling against what feels like a smoothly paved path under her.
"Pai?" she calls shakily.
No answer.
"Pai if you can hear me, say something."
There's no sound.
Shiori continues to inch her way towards the spot where she saw Pai. The edge of her fingers curls around one of the holes. She jerks her hand back, heart thudding in her chest so hard that she's sure it's visible. She turns a little and continue on, past the hole from which she can feel a rush of wind drift up.
Shiori draws in a shuddering breath as she crawls, at an even slower and more cautious pace than before. A few seconds later, she can make out the vague outline of someone sitting a metre in front of her. Shiori blows at the clouds, and they clear enough for her to see Pai, sitting on the ground with her knees drawn up to her chest and her back hunched over.
Just like the woman and herself, Pai isn't wearing anything. She looks ill, thinner than she should be, with the knobs of her spine pressing up against her skin in sharp relief. Her shoulders tremble so much that she looks like she could just shake apart and disappear.
She looks like she's in pain.
"Pai?" she calls out again, in a hushed whisper.
She crawls to kneel in front of Pai, and sits back on her heels as she waves her hands carefully around at the fog so that she can get a better look at Pai. Her heart thumps painfully in her chest. She can feel every pulse of her heartbeat hammering through her body.
She freezes when she sees the look on Pai's face.
Pai's eyes are wide, pupils dilated to massive black holes surrounded by the thin light brown of her irises, red-rimmed from tears that silently flow down her face in a never-ending cascade. The fringe of her black hair falls over her eyes with dark circles like bruises nestled beneath them. Her nose is pink from crying, her cheeks pale and sallow.
Her breath shoots out in harsh gasps as a whimper escapes her trembling lips, a low sound that is unlike any Shiori has ever heard Pai make. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, and her fingernails scratch at her forearms; the skin there is torn and bleeding a rusty red, like she's been tearing at it for a while now.
Shiori's hand trembles as she raises it and waves in front of Pai's face, then clicks, waves again, clicks, as she tries to catch Pai's attention. But whatever it is she's watching, the grip of the sight is too powerful to let her go. Shiori reaches forward to touch Pai's shoulder, to try to shake her awake.
Her stomach takes a sickening lurch when her fingers brush the cold skin of Pai's shoulder. She closes her eyes against the nauseating rolling of her stomach, pressing her hand to it. She leans forward and groans. Her whole world tilts, as if she's on a boat that's flipping on its head.
A scream has her jerking back up again, so fast she stumbles back on the heels of her feet and falls on her bottom to a suddenly wet floor beneath her. She blinks. Shiori and Pai are no longer surrounded by grey-brown clouds that hide what the ground is.
Now they're both sitting on the cold, wet floor of a room that is entirely, blindingly white.
It isn't a very large room, perhaps just the size of one of the bedrooms at Ayashi House. There is a pipe in the top left corner of the room that leaks, dripping water sluggishly down the white walls, staining the otherwise pristine cleanliness. The pipe is oddly out of place against the backdrop of the untainted white walls and floor and ceiling.
There are no windows. Shiori glances back; there's only one door with no handle, and it's closed. There is a metal flap near the bottom of the door.
This place looks like a prison cell.
The room is empty except for two people, a chair, and a suitcase that holds a varied assortment of instruments made from steel. They look like they better belong in the dark dungeon of some medieval European castle that has just been captured in a bloody and brutal battle. It makes Shiori's stomach turn nauseatingly again when she sees them.
One of the two in the room is a man. He isn't very tall, maybe an inch or two taller than Shiori, and far shorter than Kouta he'd look like a dwarf next to the shortest Daitengu, Yuu. The man has in his hands what looks to be a gleaming pair of pliers. They are wet.
He's wearing blue jeans and a dark bomber jacket over a dark green shirt. He has short black hair styled in a close-cropped haircut, and a grizzly beard that covers up much of his face. Coils of smoke wind up as the man tilts his head back and blows out the smoke from the cigarette dangling between his reed-thin lips.
The second person in the room is Pai. Another Pai – a memory.
Her hair is matted with blood. She wears a pair of trousers that stop at mid-length from her calves and a baggy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The clothes are beyond dirty, so filthy that whatever colour they once were is totally indiscernible and now look grey. Shiori thinks they might have been white, once.
Pai looks thinner than she has ever been before, as if she's been starved for ages and ages, only given just barely enough to keep her breathing. Her long hair falls in clumps around her thin, dirty shoulders. It's still black – but no completely. It's shot through with strands of white that Shiori knows will soon encroach over all her hair. Pai's head is bent forward, concealing her face, but Shiori can hear the painful rasp of her breath, loud like a shotgun fired in the dead of night.
Pai sits limp in the white metal chair in front of the man, her wrists strapped in manacles that's chains are attached to a steel plates nailed to the ground on either side of Pai. Her wrists are covered in bleeding cuts and dark bruises, tied down to the metal arms of the chair. Pai's right hand is clenched into a loose fist, as if she's trying to protect it. Her left dangles loosely over the edge of the arm of the chair. The fingers on that hand are torn and dripping thick splatters of blood on the slowly growing pool at her feet.
Her fingernails – and her toenails – have been torn off. The edges of her bleeding fingers are lined with a black, oozing liquid that turns Shiori's stomach inside out. Her throat is thick as she lowers her eyes to the pliers in the man's hands, realizing in dawning horror that the congealing wetness that coats their length...is Pai's blood.
"Pai..." she whispers in a broken voice. She looks to her left, where the Pai of her subconscious sits, lips trembling as she stares ahead.
The man makes a sound, a grunt, as he fists his hand in Pai's hair and jerks her head back. Pai doesn't even make a sound. Her face is covered in cuts, swollen, a black bruise blossoming along her jawline. Her lip is torn, and blood is splattered across the side of her face from a freely bleeding gash across her temple. Her eyes, with blue-purple shadows beneath them, are shut. Her eyelashes are stuck together, clumped with dried blood. Shiori can't tell if Pai is awake or unconscious.
The man lifts his right hand to the side and drops the pliers into the open suitcase by his side. They make a wet squelching sound as they clatter into the case. His hand is slick with blood.
Slowly, he reaches over with the same hand and slaps Pai's face gently while holding her head up, leaving a smear of his bloody hand-print on her face. Pai flinches and a soft gasp escapes her. She has a small frown on her face, as if she's struggling to breathe.
"Hey," the man's voice is gruff from years of smoking as he taps Pai's face again. "Open your fucking eyes."
She doesn't.
The man sighs in obvious irritation, his fat bottom lip curling contemptuously. He takes his cigarette out, inspecting the glowing orange end. He blows on it so it brightens. Then he jabs it into Pai's cheek.
She screams.
It's the worst sound Shiori has ever heard in her entire life. The voice that breaks out of Pai is inhuman, animalistic with desperation to be away from the pain, to not hurt so much anymore. It's like a knife slicing Shiori's heart in half as she watches Pai jerk back from the man and his cigarette.
The chair clatters as Pai jerks in it, but otherwise doesn't move, bolted as it is to the ground with iron nails. Pai's eyes fly open and Shiori bites back a horrified gasp when she sees that half of her left eyeball is cut, bleeding and making her look, for one split second, like the woman in her subconscious clothed in Shiori's mother's body, crying at the betrayal of her beloved.
But more than that, the sheer fear and pain in Pai's eyes has Shiori feeling like she's just been struck by a volley of ten-thousand arrows.
The man steps back, dropping his cigarette on the ground and crushing it beneath his heavy boot as he gazes impassively at Pai.
"Now look what you made me do. You made me waste a cig. You know how fucking expensive this shit is getting?" he says in a curiously flat voice. "Damn."
The man runs a hand through his short, buzzed hair before dropping down to a squat before Pai. He doesn't seem to care that he has blood on his hands. Pai pushes herself back in her seat, feebly trying to put as much distance between herself and her torturer as she can. He merely watches her for a few seconds before he taps Pai's knee. Even though Shiori can see he did it lightly, Pai still winces.
"Oh, sorry," the man says again, this time a lick of brightness entering his eyes, as if he's just rediscovered something he used to love. "Yoshiro broke your leg a couple days ago, huh. How's it healing? Should be going good, eh?"
Pai says nothing, just staring at the man with a curious look on her face, like she's scared but resigned to simply waiting for him to continue hurting her.
"You know why you're here." He tells her. "You're training to be one of us and do what we tell you, not get the skills to kill us."
Pai still says nothing as her eyes waver, like her attention is slipping. The man reaches forward and grips her face in his one large hand, fingers pressing mercilessly on her cut-up cheeks. Pai whimpers as she tries to move away, but she's simply too weak. In her only way to retaliate, she keeps her eyes turned from him, focusing over his shoulder in a way Shiori recognizes, the way she's long since noticed Pai does when she doesn't want to look someone in the eye but still has to listen to them.
Shiori feels as if that Pai, the one so bruised and broken, is staring right at her.
"Why did you do it?" he asks. "Why'd you kill Akira?"
Shioir's eyes widen in shock, even as Pai's shoot up to stare at the man. Her bruised and cut lips move soundlessly. He lets go of her. Her lips shake a word, a name. Then, finally, a broken sound that doesn't seem at all like the voice of the Pai she knows.
"Ki – kill?"
The man nods. "He was gonna do that, and yeah, that's not allowed, but hell, you didn't need to rip his fucking head off. And the gun? Why'd you do that when he was already dead, huh? You're not like the others, those fucking maniacs. You don't like killing, do you?"
Pai doesn't say anything, staring at the man with a glassy look in her eye that makes Shiori wonder if she's even listening to the man as he prattles on.
"You lost it, didn't ye?" he shakes his head, almost sorrowfully. "Finally got tired of pretending you're good, huh. You lost it, and you emptied a whole magazine into him, as if taking his head off wasn't enough." He gives her an odd look and says, "You killed him."
Pai snaps.
It is sudden, vicious, and savage. Her face twists in a sneer and, shockingly, a spark of electricity wreathed in black smoke fizzes up the matted length of her hair. The man jerks back and just manages to avoid the little dancing light of electric shock from jumping to his jacket. Her light brown eyes darken to black holes, and Shiori is afraid of how much Pai suddenly looks like the woman in her subconscious, in a mere second.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry." She speaks in a slow, taunting voice that sends a shiver down Shiori's spine for how similar it is to the woman's. the voice that comes from Pai's throat is two in one, crackling with an unspeakable and horrific power that has the hairs on Shiori's arms standing on end.
Pai jerks her manacled wrists with a sudden, sickening crack. White bone filament soaked in blood tears through the paper thin skin, but the Pai in front of her doesn't seem to even notice that she's just broken her own wrists.
She grins, and her smile drips red.
"Want her to say sorry? Break us from these chains and you will see how sorry we are."
×
The vision fades as a gust of wind blows it away in smokey whorls, the horrible image before the two girls evaporating.
Shiori blinks when she sees the large expanse of the strange cloud-ground before her again, having almost forgotten where she really is. The cold wind on her face makes her realize that the stiffness on her cheeks is from drying tears.
Slowly, she turns to Pai, who still sits in much the same position she'd been in when Shiori fell into the very same memory she was looking at. Pai is staring into empty space. Unblinking. Unmoving. Shiori, hesitantly, reaches forward and lightly taps Pai's shoulder, bracing herself to be plunged into yet another memory.
But no. Instead, Pai shudders at the contact and draws further into herself, curling her body up even tighter as she turns to Shiori. Pai stops moving abruptly and stares wide-eyed when she sees Shiori.
Shiori's heart goes into overdrive as she nods eagerly and shuffles closer, kneeling in front of Pai. She stops when Pai flinches. She has to work the words out of her throat as she says quietly, "Yeah, it's...it's me, Pai-chan. I'm here."
Pai lifts her hand, and it's trembling as she brings it close to Shiori. Pai freezes just an inch from touching Shiori's cheek and drops her hand to her side. She blinks tiredly, and her lips twitch as she shakes her head, closing her eyes and turning her face away.
It breaks Shiori's heart.
"No you're not. You're another memory." Pai swallows, the curtain of her eyelashes quavering. "You're another trick they're using."
Shiori vehemently shakes her head, then softens her movements so as not to scare Pai, even if she's not looking. If Shiori was shaken by what she just saw – Pai, shackled to a chair with her nails torn off and her hair clumped with her own blood as a man accused her of killing someone – she can't imagine what it must be like for Pai herself.
Shiori almost can't believe it. Can't believe that something like that is what Pai lived through in those missing three years. How had she survived? How did she scape? How is she coping with such a heavy burden on her mind? And how did she wind up in a place like that to begin with?
She did it by forgetting, Shiori realizes as she looks at Pai's hair now, and remembers the white of it that she's gotten used to. She pushed the memories away.
"Pai," Shiori says. "Open your eyes. Look at me. It's me. I'm here to take you home."
Pai keeps her eyes closed. A tear falls down her sunken cheek. "There's no home. There's only pain."
How many has she already seen? Shiori thinks frantically. Pai refuses to cry in front of others; since they were children, Shiori was always the one wailing about this and that, while even if scraped knee after a fall would only bring a sheen of tears to Pai's eyes that never fell. Does she really think that if she wakes up, it'll be to that?
Shiori speaks gently, as coaxingly as she can, "No, Pai, home is home. There's no pain there. You just have to wake up."
"You're lying," Pai whispers. "You're just another vision she's giving me."
Shiori wonders if Pai is talking about the strange woman. Does she know who the woman is, why she's here?
"No, I'm – I'm real, Pai-chan. Look at me. Look at me." Pai turns at the resolute firmness in Shiori's eyes, almost unwillingly. Her eyes are dark and empty. Shiori lifts her hand, fighting to keep them from trembling. "Touch my hand. I'm real, Pai. I'm here."
Pai looks into her eyes. She's struck by how timeless the look is, how old and tired Pai's eyes seem as they search her own. For a brief second, it feels like Shiori is staring down into some bottomless well, staring at that ageless look in Pai's eyes that makes her feel as if Pai has seen all there is to ever see from the world, and there's nothing left in it that can surprise her anymore.
Pai's gaze shifts to her hand, unwavering as Shiori holds it between them. The moment is lost.
Pai's hand comes up, slowly. Shiori holds her breath as she waits for Pai's fingers to touch her own, to prove to Pai that she's real and that she can wake up and come home, that the memories she's spent who knows how long watching aren't the reality she will be waking up to.
A wounded expression twists Pai's features and a whimper breaks out as she snatches her hand back. She cradles it to her chest as she shuffles back from Shiori. She's crying as she closes her eyes and brings her shaking hands up to the sides of her head, pulling at her hair and sniffling. The silver tracks on her face shine like streams of glittering diamonds as the tears fall down her cheeks.
"Please," she sobs. "Please stop it, just stop it. Don't use her like this, please."
Shiori is helpless. Her hand drops to her side as she raises herself up to her knees, wanting to hold Pai's crying form in her arms, to tell her that everything is going to be all right. But she's afraid that she'll only scare Pai away if she suddenly touches her – it makes sense to think that, after seeing all those horrible things that have been done to her.
And it was just one memory. Pai was missing for three years.
It's only now, after seeing it, that Shiori can understand Pai's newly developed aversion to being touched by other people. She couldn't really understand before why Pai ducks and weaves around Pai when they're in the crowded hallways of school or at around the stores at Sapporo Station or out on the streets; she does everything she can to avoid being touched by other people.
Now Shiori can understand – she does.
"Pai," Shiori tries again, struggling not to let her voice waver. "Pai, please, this isn't a dream. I'm real – I came here to help you –"
"No!" Pai yells. Shiori flinches. Pai's eyes are still squeezed shut as she rocks back and forth. "Leave her alone! Leave Shiori alone, leave me alone! I don't want to, I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to! Make it stop, make it stop, please."
Shiori does the only perceivable thing she can think of. If she can't get Pai to physically touch her and affirm that she isn't an illusion, she'll need to force Pai to remember all those she cares about, all those who are waiting and hoping for her to wake up. All those who don't want to see Pai die. Even if she doesn't know whether or not some of them are alive, Shiori has to try.
She can't let Pai stay here and kill herself.
"Shiori!" she shouts. "I'm – I'm Shiori, and I need you to wake up. Ryu, my little brother, Obaasan, Kouta, Kanou, Shin, Haru, Kaede, Shouta, Jirou, Daichi, the kids, Yukiji and Mizutani. Your family, your parents. We're all real and we're all waiting for you to wake up, Pai. We all want you to come back home."
Pai is staring at her. Her lips move silently. Her breath hiccups as she whispers a name to herself. Shiori can't hear whose name it is. The tears on her face glisten like rivers of crystals on her cheeks. She draws in a shuddering breath as she slowly, shakily, sits up on her knees, watching Shiori intently. It's like she thinks that if she looks away, Shiori will disappear.
Shiori's unused to having such an intense look focused solely on her, but she doesn't waver as she repeats, "We all want you to come back home, Pai."
"Shiori," Pai murmurs, her voice thin and reedy. Shiori nods enthusiastically as Pai waveringly continues, "Ryu, Kouta, Obaasan, Kanou Shi – Shin, Haru..."
"Kaede, Jirou, Shouta, Daichi, Yukiji and Mizutani," Shiori finishes for her when Pai trails off with a confused frown, her eyes dropping from Shiori's to look down at her fingers resting on her lap. "They're our friends, Pai. They're your friends. We all care about you, and we want you to come home. Your parents, Midori-chan, we're all waiting."
Pai's head jerks up, and she bares her teeth at her. The look Pai gives her, the pure loathing in her eyes but not entirely directed at Shiori, is terrifying – and something in Shiori makes her wonder if its even wholly human.
Her eyes darken until not a trace of the light brown can be seen, and she snaps, "Do not speak her name. Not in our presence."
Just as quickly as it comes, the hatred vanishes and Pai's face crumples again as her hands come up to cradle her head, pulling at her hair as if she's trying to tear it off. "Make her stop, tell her to leave me alone, please, I don't want to anymore!"
"You can make it stop," Shiori says quickly, despite how unsettled she is. That voice...it wasn't Pai's. "You just – you just need to wake up, and it will stop."
"I don't want to," she whimpers. "I don't wanna wake up. If I do, they'll hurt me." Pai looks up at Shiori, and her heart breaks to see her best friend in such pain. "I don't want to hurt anymore."
Shiori shakes her head. "Those are memories." She says quietly, in as convincing a manner as she can. She hiccups as she says, "I know – I know it hurts, I know it hurts, Pai, but they're the past. You've gone past it. You're not there anymore. You're with me, with friends, at home."
In the blink of an eye, Pai's entire demeanour abruptly changes, as if Shiori's words have set her off yet again. The crumpled expression of pain and hesitance on her face smooths away into a blank slate. She sits up from her curled position, legs folded on either side of her, spine straight as a soldier's as she stares at Shiori without saying a word. Something flickers in her eyes – it looks like faint wisps of colour, of red, dart through the darkness before disappearing.
Shiori finds herself more ill at ease at this blankness than the crying, the pain, the child-like confusion, even that strange woman's voice coming from Pai's mouth.
"What do you know." She says. Her voice is curiously flat. Even so, the way she's looking at Shiori makes her think that Pai – or whatever this is – is looking down on her, judging her. "What do you know of pain."
Her eyes are large but entirely devoid of emotion. It's like staring into a pair of black holes that Shiori can't look away from, even as her gut twists with something scared that's warning her of danger.
But danger from who? Pai?
"I..." Shiori trails off, leaning back a little from this strange turn Pai's suddenly taken. "I just..."
She doesn't know how to respond. She feels dirty, like a hypocrite trying to act like she knows more than she does, if she says that she knows. Because she doesn't – she really doesn't. After seeing that memory, after seeing what Pai had to live through, what her own mind pushed away for how strong the effects of it had on Pai...what right does Shiori have to say 'she knows'?
And why...why is Pai acting like this? Why is she acting like she has different personalities? Shiori's never seen her like this before. She doesn't know how to react, what to say not to set Pai off again, what to do.
She doesn't know what's she's doing here.
Pai regards her wordless floundering with complete apathy, like she doesn't even care what Shiori's response might be. The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile that would look coy if not for how expressionless the rest of her face is. She starts to say something – and another ripple passes over her face, her eyes scrunching shut as she groans and folds in on herself again, reverting into that defensive, curled position from before.
A breath shudders out past Pai's lips. When she looks up again, somehow, Shiori can tell that the...the before Pai, the one she knows, her friend, is with her again. She has a look of such intense longing in her eyes that Shiori's chest squeezes tight. "Home?"
It's like this last switch, or whatever it was, hasn't registered with Pai – she doesn't remember it.
Shiori follows along, because she's getting desperate now; she has no idea how much time she has left to get Pai to wake up.
Shiori nods, shakily, then again, more firm, eagerly. "Home." She stretched out a hand to her, palm up, keeping it steady in the air between them. "Touch my hand. I'm not an illusion; I'm real. I came to take you home." Shiori's lip trembles as she fights back the blurriness of the tears building up in her eyes. "Let's go home, Pai."
Pai hiccups as she tentatively, slowly reaches out. Her hand is shaking so much, it's like she's in an arctic cold. Shiori struggles not to move closer, instead waiting for Pai to be the one to make the first move. She doesn't want to inadvertently do more harm when she thinks she's doing right by forcing Pai to realize that she's not an illusion. Pai needs to come to terms with it on her own.
Slowly, ever so slowly that it feels like time could speed up and it'll never happen, the tip of Pai's finger touches Shiori's open palm. It's like a bolt of electricity shoots through her body. She almost pulls back from the shock of it. Instead, Shiori grinds her teeth together in determination, and keeps her hand right where it is.
"You're...here?" Pai says as she traces the life-line on Shiori's palm with the tip of her forefinger. Her eyes are filled with hope that Shiori is indeed real, that she isn't some illusion, and fear that she is. Those eyes that Shiori recognizes – now, an insidious part of her whispers as she remembers the strange woman and then that emotionless expression on Pai's face – shoot up to Shiori's in sudden alarm. "Why? Why are you here? You can't be here."
What?
"I – I came to bring you back home," Shiori stammers. "Those memories – they're not your life now. You can wake up; you don't need to be afraid anymore."
Pai shakes her head fervidly, and Shiori thinks it's because she's still unconvinced.
Her next words prove Shiori wrong.
"She'll kill you," Pai whispers, her voice warbling. "She wants me to stay here. You need to go – you need to go!"
"I'm not going anywhere without you." Shiori insists. She did not come all this way just to turn around and walk right back without Pai alongside her. "I won't let you die. If you wake up, then I'll go."
But Pai is shaking her head, deaf to Shiori's please. She scrambles up to her feet. Shiori quickly stands with her as Pai paces around, seemingly uncaring for the holes littering the ground. Shiori remains rooted to the spot for fear she'll fall through one.
"You don't understand!" Pai shouts, coming to a stop in front of her. "You can't be here!"
"Why?" Shiori asks, beyond confused, and tired as well. She's struck by how bone-tired she is, how heavy her limbs are as she takes a step towards Pai. "This is your subconscious. It's your choice who is here."
Pai backs away from Shiori, arms raised as if Shiori's holding a gun pointed at her. She shakes her head. Her lips are pressed tight together as she stops backing away, and focuses on Shiori with a look that makes her seem like she's just come to a decision.
"This isn't it. This isn't – it's not it. Not really."
Shiori frowns. "Then what is this place? Why are you here?"
A faraway, glazed look steals across Pai's face as her eyes shift away from Shiori. "This is her home. She controls everything here. She's been alone for so long..."
Who?! Shiori screams in her head.
The strange look disappears from Pai's eyes in a snap, and she looks at Shiori again.
"Shii-chan, go back."
Shiori shakes her head firmly. "No. I'm not going until you come with me."
The façade of forced calm on Pai's face melts into a panicked frenzy as she wrings her hands in front of her. "Why don't you listen?" she groans. "Why don't you ever listen? You need to go or you'll die, you need to go, you need to go, you need to go!"
Out of nowhere, arcs of electricity, little bolts of power fizzing over her body, crackle down the length of Pai's long hair, up and down her shaking arms. It's the same as that single flare that had been in her hair in the memory the two girls just emerged from. Instinctively, Shiori takes a step back, even though she knows Pai would never hurt her.
"Shiori," she whispers, and Shiori's eyes widen at the sound of her voice, the pronounced tones of two voices using one throat to speak. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
Forgive – what?
Pai does something so wholly unexpected that Shiori doesn't even think to make a move to protect herself against it; Pai lurches forward, arms outstretched, and shoves her.
Shiori stumbles back from the force of the push, away from Pai and the freezing cold that crawls over her shoulders when Pai touches her skin. Her right foot lands on the stone beneath the cloud, safe.
Her left misses it. It dislodges her; she only feels her toes curling over the edge of the ground before her foot twists.
Shiori falls back, tumbling down past the hole.
She screams – as much in shock and dismay as fear – as Pai's form speeds away from her. She's free-falling, further and further from Pai, down to the wailing, angry black sea that waits to swallow her whole, and all the nightmarish creatures within its cold depths.
Splashing into the freezing cold water is like slamming into asphalt. As ice crawls through her veins and her vision blinks out, Shiori hears Pai's voice, in her head, like she's right beside her.
"Let me forget. I don't want to remember. Please."
^^ Art by BelitAm^^