京都市、6日目
"I am going to die."
"No, you're not," Shiori rolled her eyes at Kouta's theatrics. "You're being dramatic."
Kouta lifted his forearms up on the metal rod of the clothes rack through she was perusing. He laid his forehead down on his arm and sighed deeply, as if the weight of the skies had settled on his shoulders
"I don't think you understand. I can feel my soul leaving my body." He raised his head to look at her with puppy-dog eyes and pouted. Nodding at Shin he continued, "Even Shin can tell. Shin, Shin-kun, look at me honestly and tell her if you think I'm going to die."
Shin gave him a frigid look from the corner of his eye before turning back to idly inspecting the pair of sunglasses perched on the plastic nose of the mannequin he stood beside. "He's going to die. Slowly and painfully."
Shiori narrowed her eyes at Shin. "You're only saying that because you're his best friend, and you're obligated to agree with whatever he says as such." She retorted primly.
"I never agree with what you say." Pai pointed out, for no other reason than to annoy Shiori.
"Yes, that's true," Shiori retorted huffily, shooting her a disgruntled look. "And that's because you're a mean friend."
"That is because you rarely make a good point." She instantly corrected.
She mindlessly flicked aside the skirt hanging on the side of the racks Kouta stood on. Shin was directly opposite her, standing beside Shiori, with his hands tucked into the coat pockets of his knee-length trench coat as his eyes idly wandered over the aisles of clothes around them. His hair was messy, ruffled on his head as visible testament to the fact that Kouta had literally dragged him out of bed to come along on their shopping trip. Despite that, he looked rugged, and not at all that hard on the eyes.
Pai and Shiori were searching for a yukata to wear to the festival that evening – and the next day – and shopping for gifts to take back home, as well as other clothes Shiori insisted they absolutely had to get. Today was the first day of the festival, which would kick off that evening at six o'clock with fireworks. They were in Kyoto's large shopping district, and Shiori wanted to have the perfect yukata and purse to go with it for the festival.
Even though Pai was wary of being around Shiori when she went on a shopping frenzy, she didn't mind the outing so much. She didn't have a yukata even back home – the last one she'd had was before she disappeared when she was fifteen, and Shiori and Kouta told her that everything in her old home had been sold since everyone seemed to have entirely forgotten that the Momozono's ever existed in that house.
'They' were Kouta (dragged along because Shiori forced him to, citing his hefty wallet even though that was such a blatant excuse to turn this outing into a sort-of date), Pai (begged by Shiori to come because she also needed to get a yukata, considering Pai didn't own one), and Shin (Pai wasn't entirely sure why he'd been forced to tag along).
She had asked him why he was coming along, since he didn't strike her as the type to spend his free time yukata hunting and shopping for clothes and gifts. He said that he was just a glorified security guard with them because Kouta forced him to out of fear of boredom while the girls shopped. So far, he'd only bought one thing at the accessories store they'd stopped at one hour ago. She hadn't seen what it was, and her stomach turned uncomfortably whenever she tried to guess at who he might have bought something at a very obviously lady's accessories store for.
Who was he buying it for? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
That was a lie. She wanted to know.
She hadn't particularly wanted to go shopping. It was hard to walk on the streets knowing that the possibility of Midori doing the same, maybe even being just around the corner, was very real. The paranoia of it all was driving her crazy. All she wanted to do was lock herself in her room and cry endlessly because of what she dreamt last night – what she remembered.
Midori. Her sister. Wearing Agent's standard uniform, arguing with the boy in her memories that looked so like her, yet different at the same time.
But maybe the dream was just that; a dream. A horrible, devastating nightmare, but a dream. Conjured by the heaviness of the loss and grief and rejection she felt after seeing Midori in the streets, just a few feet ahead of her, and then losing her barely five seconds later. Maybe the dream had just been a dream, her mind's way of coping with the loss of it.
After all, it wasn't like her dreams were only memories. Sometimes she had regular, nonsensical dreams she didn't remember the next morning, or nightmares that's haunting claws stuck fast around her neck even if she didn't remember any details about them. Maybe she just projected her fear into her dreams, fear from the way Midori disappeared from the street the other day instead of saying anything to Pai.
The extent to which you go to deny something so clear and plain as day is astounding, Bibari. Kuniumi idly commented when Pai decided that she wouldn't jump to any unsound conclusions until she could remember every single detail of her time missing, until the gaping hole in her brain spilled over with memories.
How do I know you didn't just make me see that dream, like you made me see me punching you in the mirror but it didn't break?
Even as she'd demanded it, she knew that she was grasping at straws. She hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility, but she knew how unlikely it was. Not with how insistent Kuniumi was that she remember everything, and on her own. Kuniumi toyed with her senses – making her see, hear, and feel things that weren't real – but she never, ever did anything that could confuse Pai into thinking it was her memory if it was really just a delusion.
Kuniumi wanted her to remember, and it was the truth she wanted, not a figment of illusion.
We don't hate for no reason, she'd replied glibly, like it was supposed to be so obvious. Midori is just another inconsequential human to us. If not for you, for what she did, we would not look her way.
Numbness met her. That was all she could really feel.
Numb, and cold, and so empty that it was like she could fill herself up with every colourful thought and feeling in the world, yet still remain like a vast desert of nothing stretched out inside her. The numbness spread over her with icy fingers that danced along the nerves of her skin, dulling her volatile emotions just enough that she didn't crumble beneath the weight and scream in madness.
She knew it had nothing to do with Kuniumi's influence – this apathy, the indifference; it was all her own doing. The fact that she was able to do such a thing without Kuniumi's help spoke to the deeply ingrained fear that she was slowly turning – or returning – back to that Pai, the horrible person she was before amnesia swept into her life.
She didn't know how to stop it. She didn't know if she wanted to. She remembered how much less things hurt, when she was fully entrenching in this freezing numbness. She remembered how horrible things could get and how little it hurt her when they did, and she didn't know if she wanted to stop the numbness from crawling over her again.
Pretending she wasn't returning to that was harder, though. She tried to, and it worked, to some extent. She was able to smile at the appropriate moments, make suitable passing comments to show she was paying attention to what was happening around her. She even laughed, though it sounded forced even to her own ears.
But despite her efforts, Shiori seemed to know that something was wrong with her. Pai's poker face was almost akin to Shin's own, but she knew that her best friend could peek through it. Shiori rushed her in and out of so many stores, up and down so many streets with Shin and Kouta barely able to keep up as she zipped around. She barely had the energy or time to dwell on her memory of Midori being the reason why she killed so many people...and the reason why she was trapped in the endless cycle of death in the first place.
"Meh." Shiori grumbled now. She stuck the hanger with of the pink blouse she'd been looking at back on the rack, crossed her arms, and turned to Shin. "Okay, how do you know Kouta's going to die?" she asked, her eyebrows lifted imperiously in a manner that suggested she clearly thought he wouldn't be able to come up with a viable answer.
Shin nodded down at Kouta's foot tapping in an incessant, rhythmic beat. "He only does that when his patience is about to snap and he's ready to run away, and I mean literally turn tail and run. A sad fact considering he's the Heir."
Pai blinked owlishly at the shirt she just pushed back into the racks. He made a joke.
Daichi did say he likes to prank people.
He looks more like the silent type...
You of all people should know never to judge people based on what they look like. You look like a prude yet you've had your fair share of salacious thoughts, haven't you?
At that moment she was intensely glad for her blank face – if not, she'd have turned into a roasted tomato at Kuniumi's remark.
If someone looks close enough, they'll see steam coming out of your ears.
Shut up!
Everyone's heads – except Shin's, of course – dropped down to stare at Kouta's foot, and he self-consciously stopped tapping it. Pushing himself off from leaning on the rack, he straightened and glared at Shin as Shiori giggled. "That's called being creepy, Shin-kun."
"That's called being aware, Kouta-kun."
"Traitor."
"Coward."
She could see how the two had stuck fast to their friendship for all these years. "Point," she said quickly.
Shiori let out an explosive breath indignantly. "I swear to god, you're on a vendetta with those points."
"Says the one mercilessly dragging her boyfriend around the entire city looking for a yukata made by gods."
Shiori frowned in confusion, looking at her like she thought Pai was senile. She didn't fail to notice the faint blush that reddened both Shiori and Kouta's cheeks. It was cute to watch the synchrony of it.
"I don't think something like that exists around here, Pai-chan."
She triumphantly raised her hands like a preacher beseeching supplicants of prayer. "Exactly."
"See?" Kouta said, hope colouring his words. "Even Pai-chan sympathizes with me. C'mon, we'll just take a break, maybe get some real food for lunch that will actually fill the stomach instead of a snack that only makes you more hungry, and then we can buy every shop you see. There's that Korean place we just passed with rabbokki that looked good. Sound like a deal?"
"Hmm..." Shiori pursed her lips as she put a finger to her chin and squinted up at the circular light overhead in an exaggerated show of thinking on his offer. Then she beamed at him, a teasing smile curling her lips. "Okay, fine. But I only want one shop."
"Thank god." Kouta sighed gratefully, sagging on the clothing rack like a limp rag. "I'm not joking, I legitimately think I may die."
"You mean like when you 'legitimately think you saw a unicorn when it was actually a horse with a party hat that time?" Shiori asked innocently.
When was this.
"I will go pay," Pai said, walking around Kouta to get to Shiori and take her cart piled high with clothes, in addition to the oversized sweater Pai had carefully folded over her left arm that she was going to buy for herself. She pointed at Shiori with a plastic hanger. "You make sure he does not die."
"Mhm, 'kay." Shiori agreed. She turned a sweet smile on Kouta that was obvious in its sinister nature. "You don't get to die, or I will haunt you for the rest of your eternal afterlife."
"Isn't it supposed to be the other way round?" he protested, eyes wide with incredulity despite the little smile toying about his lips.
"Not with me it isn't." Shiori returned, and then looked over. "We'll be at that Korean place around the corner, the one we passed before coming here. You know it?"
"Uh..." she squinted, trying to remember what restaurant Shiori might be talking about. They had passed so restaurants that it was dizzying just trying to remember them all. "Yes...I remember."
She was lying, but she didn't want to let Shiori knew she had no idea what restaurant she was talking about. Her mind had been so clogged up with rebounding thoughts of Midori and the strange brown-eyed boy in her dreams that she'd been mindlessly following the group the whole time, not paying any attention whatsoever to her surroundings. She didn't want Shiori to know that she'd been so preoccupied she'd barely seen where they were going.
But she lied, too, because she wanted to be alone for just a few minutes, to check that her emotions were staying as she wanted them – dead, buried so deep she'd have to dig for days to bring them back up.
But she didn't take Shin into consideration.
"I'll go with you," he offered, giving her an shrewd look as he took a step to join her. "I know which one she's talking about."
She couldn't say she was that surprised that Shin saw through her act. He had a disturbing knack for easily sensing when she was lying, or if something was wrong. She couldn't decide if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.
"Okay," Shiori nodded. "We meet in what, five or ten minutes or something, yeah?"
"You guys just go on ahead making arrangements and plans without the Heir, no problem at all." Kouta grumbled sarcastically as Shiori laughed and took the arm he offered out to her as they started to turn to go. "I'm not feeling like an unwanted and lonely old man here."
"Big baby," Shiori teased.
"I thought I was a dying old man?"
"Who's a dying old man? I see none."
"Now, now," Kouta said, deepening his voice and making it crack just enough to sound like an actual old man. He shook his head like a disappointed grandfather. "Is that any way to be treating the elderly? You should be ashamed of yourself young lady, truly ashamed, how rude."
Shiori's answering laughter rippled to the background as Pai turned and started walking in the general direction of the counter to pay for their purchases. Shin fell into step beside her, his long legs easily keeping up with her fast-paced but shorter strides.
She tried not to notice all the sidelong glances and ogling from women that was aimed in Shin's direction. She tried not to conjure up imaginings, as she stared fixedly down at the shiny white floor. Still, she couldn't help wonder if those same women were looking at her in confusion, wondering why such a plain girl was walking beside tall, darkly handsome Shin.
Maybe their thoughts were, He could do so much better, or, Maybe she's clinging to him and he pities her. Or maybe they were even contemplating ways to accidentally bump into him and start up a flirtatious conversation despite the fact that she was right there.
She hated herself for thinking like that. She didn't own Shin. There was no leash around his neck to which she had control over, no collar with her name on it. He could talk to whoever he wanted. He could give lady's accessories as gifts to anyone he so wished to. She didn't have to know about everything he did. It was none of her business.
That was a lie; she wanted to know.
"You really are very good with your words," he idly commented, breaking her self-loathingly jealous train of thought.
A moment passed before she realized he was talking about how she easily manoeuvred Shiori's moods around with her words.
"Years of practise on Shii-chan have made me good." She replied, trying to force an smile on her face as she ignored the decidedly envious and attempted inconspicuous glances from two women they walked past.
Instead of answering back about her peculiar talent, Shin smoothly slid in front of her, cutting her short. The moved forced her to come to an abrupt halt as she jerked her head up to look at him in surprise.
"Shin-san? What – "
"You're faking." He declared impassively.
She couldn't glean even a bare hint of what he felt or thought of his observation from his eyes. The only thing she could tell was that he didn't look particularly pleased, from the grim set of his jaw.
She blinked at him. "What?"
"You're pretending to have a good time, but you're not." He said, tilting his head to the side.
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"There's something...off, with you." He straightened, giving her his full and undivided attention with the added highlight of a tight smile on his face when he saw her surprised expression that he would notice that about her. "Did something happen?"
Did something happen? Why, yes, I'd say something did happen, and I wish it didn't, and
"I had a dream." The words were out so quick as she spoke without thought. She'd thought she was opening her mouth to lie and say I'm fine, but what came out instead wasn't what she intended. She slapped her hand up to cover her mouth. "Sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" he asked. He reached over and took hold of the basket with Shiori's numerous purchases and Kouta's fewer ones, turned, and walked to the group of lavishly dressed mannequins propped up beside a tall, plain white wall to their left. "Come on."
"What about Shii-chan and Kouta-sama?" she asked as she hurried to pick up her pace against his lengthy stride. "They are waiting for us."
"I'm sure they won't mind if we don't show up for another ten minutes," he replied easily, giving her a knowing look.
He was probably right. They would never say so aloud, but both Kouta and Shiori actively sought and relished in any actual 'alone time' they could get. That was even more likely now considering how busy Kouta had been the last few days with the signing of the Territory Treaties.
People were staring at the two as they walked quickly, but it didn't look like Shin noticed it. Or maybe he did, but was just ignoring everyone else in a way he was adept at, a way she didn't know how to. They walked on in silence, and she wondered if the awkwardness she felt was only on her end.
After what he told her of the reason why he – Shinigami – killed the Nue, of Seiran's death, they hadn't mentioned it again. He'd flown her back to the Palace, and it was like some unspoken decision passed between them to simply return to being the way they used to be together, before he told her of his past.
Still, that didn't mean she wasn't nervous. It wasn't like she could totally ignore the hurt she'd heard in his voice, though she heeded Shin's need to simply not talk about it again. She knew he needed to let go of the guilt eating him up over what happened to Seiran, but she didn't know how to tell him that.
Her heart thumped wildly as they reached the mannequins. Shin stopped, placed the basket of purchases at the leather-booted foot of one of the impossibly tall plastic models (she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully at the shoe. Shiori would like a pair, she thought), and leaned back on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
He started to speak, but she cut him off, talking before he could. The black, horrible thing in her chest was growing to be so strong that she knew she needed to let it out, somehow. Shin was the only person she could think to do it with. He knew more about what was going on with her than anyone – except for Kuniumi, and she wasn't here right now.
She trusted Shin. Maybe not quite enough to tell him everything, but something...something was better than living along with this black hole of secrets buried in her chest. She trusted him.
"I – I had a dream. It was a memory, I think, and...Mitti – Midori – she was there."
Shin's eyebrows smoothed out from the concerned frown they were fixed in as he slowly nodded. "I see."
"Yeah." Her voice trembled as she went on. She started to pace from side to side as she talked, unable to keep still, wringing her hands repeatedly. "I am trying really, really hard to enjoy today with – with you, and Shii-chan and Kouta-sama, because I know that what happened was in the past and that is not who I am now and I know that I need to focus on the present, but it is so hard. It is so hard that I feel like I cannot breathe because I am trying not to pay attention to it so much. Does – does any of this make sense?"
Finally lifting her gaze from being fixed to the ground, she looked up at him. She couldn't read anything from his perfect poker face, but she knew he was listening to her. She hadn't meant to say all that – she'd meant to say nothing, except that she'd had a dream, maybe vaguely mention that Midori was in it...but perhaps the deadened emotions she'd killed weren't buried quite as deep as she thought.
"It does, actually," he finally replied in a low voice, watching her intently, as if taking note of every move she made.
She sighed in relief, surprised to realize that she'd been holding her breath for his answer. "The worst part of all this is that they are coming so slow. Sometimes I go for weeks without having a single dream, and then it just suddenly comes out of nowhere and hits me, like a sledgehammer." She gestured with quivering hands at her head as she started up her pacing again without even noticing it. "My memories are coming so slowly, and I cannot make anything of them because if I try I do not know if I am right, and it kills me not to know."
A strange look passed over Shin's face then. He pushed himself off the wall and walked to where she had paced over to the left. He took hold of her shoulders firmly, effectively stopping her stressed pacing, and bent his knees slightly so that he was at eye-level with her. She had the thought to move away so that she could think properly, but her body defiantly ignored her brain's logical command.
Stay, her body seemed to say. Stay near him.
I need to think, her mind shot back.
Stay.
"I'm going to tell you something important right now." He said, drawing her out of her spiralling thoughts. He wondered if she knew just how much of an open window into her mind her eyes could be sometimes, for how easily she could shut everyone out. "I need you to listen carefully, okay?"
Blinking owlishly at the tiny brown flecks in the blue, she nodded. "Okay."
"In your mind, there's a lock on your subconscious, where your memories are." His eyebrows furrowed slightly as if he was trying to figure out a better way to explain it. "Or more like it's a wall. Is that how it is for you?"
For you.
What did he mean by that? She nodded, wondering how he knew exactly what it was like. She wondered where this was going.
He paused momentarily. "You know what my Ability is, right?" he asked.
"Invisibility?"
"Yes. But there's something else about it, more like a quirk. Are you following?"
"I..." she barely could. He was so close, the stir of his apple-scented breath on her cheeks, the warmth of his hands on her shoulders muddling her senses yet lighting the nerves under her skin on fire. "Um..."
"Imagine this – all the memories you can't see are all gathered in one place, and there's a wall surrounding them all, keeping them in, hiding them." He gestured in the small space between them, his hand curving around a make-believe wall between them. "When I touch it, I can make that wall invisible. When that happens, through the wall, you can see those memories."
Disjointed, disconnected, his words wove together and she understood what he was trying to say. It was slow-going but eventually it got through to her.
She went preternaturally still. Her mouth fell open in shock as the implications of what he was saying settled. "Are you saying you can make me remember?"
"Ye – no," he shook his head. "I can't 'make' you remember. But I can make the wall around your memories weak enough to see something, a little."
"Are you serious?" she asked disbelievingly. At his nod, she asked, "Why are you telling me this now? Why not before?"
"I've only done this with someone once before, and all I could do was get them to remember up to three days before the wall came back and pushed me out. It was only possible because I had an emotional connection with that person, and they were Ayakashi. I had no idea what would happen if I tried it with you. I still don't know what could happen."
"You could have at least said something," she pushed, trying to quell the rising tide of anger building up inside her. She didn't know if the anger was directed at Shin, or at herself, or Midori, for running away. "You could have – you could have just told me, so at least I would know."
His gaze hardened. "Pai, whatever happened to you, it traumatized you. I could see that when you first got to Ayashi House, and I can still see that now. I didn't know what it could do to you because you are human, and I still don't know now. I didn't want to give you false hope. And," he let go of her shoulders to move back and lean on the wall. "I didn't say anything because you're a very private person."
Ice water sloshed over the anger burning in her, and it hissed to quietude.
"What?" she said, even though she herself knew the truth of his last words. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You keep things in. You don't want to let anyone know about the battles you fight inside, all by yourself. This part of my Ability, when I use it – it means that I see it. Every thought, every memory, every emotion. I see it all, and I don't know how to make it so that I don't."
"Every emotion?" she squeaked, even as her heart plummeted at the way Shin described her. It was like she was an ice woman, or something like it. Hard to approach, impossible to get to know well.
She didn't want Shin to see her like that. She wanted to tell him that he was the only one who had gotten so close to her, but she didn't know how to.
So she didn't. She was good at that – doing nothing. It was easy.
"In those three days." He clarified, a puzzled frown pulling at his face at her shrilled tone.
"Then – "
He raised a hand quickly to stop her when she opened her mouth to speak. "I know what you're going to say. But before you ask me to, I need you to think about it. Really think about it. You haven't told anyone about what you've started to remember for a reason, be it because you're scared, or you don't trust anyone enough to know. If you do this – if we do this, you won't have those secrets anymore. I'll know about them even if I try not to. And I can't guarantee that how much I can get you to see will be enough to tell you a clear story of what happened while you were missing. I don't know what dangers there are for you."
"I want to do it. I trust you, Shin-san," she said, and even though those words were so seemingly simple, she couldn't help feel like she'd just handed him the key to her...what? To her heart? No, it couldn't be that. "Please. I need this."
"It will only be three days." He hesitated. "It won't be the whole picture, and it might end up being worse than now."
She knew what he meant. The pieces he could give her might not be any better than the pieces she was getting from her agonizingly slowly returning memories.
"But at least I will be able to live with myself knowing that I tried everything I could to get my memories back." She insisted. "Even if it is only three days. That is more than I have had for the last year. It is better than sitting and waiting and agonizing over it like I am now."
Shin looked at her intensely for a long moment. He was debating with himself, she could tell. She wondered if a part of him regretted telling her about what else his Ability could do, but she was immensely glad that he did. It would only be three days, but that was a more tangible thing than the flimsy excuse of hazy dreams that told her next to nothing and only sent her spiralling into depression and anxiety and endless paranoia.
He sighed, tipping his head back on the wall as he looked up at the circular lights set firmly up in the white ceiling. "What memory?"
She blinked in surprise. She had genuinely expected him to object, tell her she was crazy for even thinking of taking such a risk. But then what was he for telling her he could give her the chance of risking it?
"You will do it?" she asked.
He nodded. "You understand the part about the fact that I've never done this on a human before, right? I have no idea what will happen."
She laughed softly at what could only be nervousness in his voice. It was a surprising change from the norm of Shin seeming to always know everything in his usual indifferent manner. "I understand. I trust you."
He ran his tongue over his upper teeth before pressing his lips in a tight line, a frown etched on his face. "When do you want to remember?"
She blanked.
She had never imagined herself in such a position where she was given the chance to remember something of her past, but only a very limited chance. Now that it was upon her, she found herself...scared. She could finally remember something of what happened to her, but she was terrified to.
She was scared that her last night's dream might turn out to not have been a dream at all. That Midori really was an Agent, and that it was her fault Pai was in So Fu, and killed and killed and killed so much that her hands slipped on white cell floors from the blood coating them.
What if it was real? What if it wasn't? What would she do with either?
She didn't know what she would see if Shin revealed a repressed memory that Midori was in. She was scared of what she would see if her sister really was there. She still held out on the tiny, increasingly unlikely possibility that sometimes her dreams were just that – dreams. Or if they were memories, then maybe they were at least memories mixed in with dreams, and not completely, horribly true.
But what if Shin was right and it only made things worse? Was it better for her to just leave it, to just rely on her dreams rather than to push it?
Then she thought of one thing, one memory, that wasn't her fault for forgetting – and the one person who was responsible for her forgetting it in the first place was adamant that she wouldn't let Pai see it, not until the time was right, and who knew when that would be.
"The Torimaku." She mumbled thoughtfully.
His only reaction was a twitch of his brow. "The Torimaku."
She quickly added, "It is not that I do not want you to see what – what happened while I was missing, it is just...I am scared. I want to remember, but I am scared to. I would rather go with something...closer." She ended honestly. "It will be one less hole in my head, at least."
What she didn't say was that she wanted to know why Kuniumi was blocking her memory of what happened in the Torimaku with Shinigami. Kuniumi said it was because Shinigami told her something she wasn't supposed to know, but she didn't add on anything more to explain her convoluted reasoning. It was like she was scared of how Pai would react to finding out.
It took a while for her to realize, but once she did, she found that it all clicked. Shinigami said something important enough that Kuniumi was scared of her finding out about it before Kuniumi thought she was ready to know. Maybe he'd been able to sense Kuniumi's presence? Maybe he'd inadvertently told her how she could get rid of Kuniumi?
Pai had to ignore the twisting in her gut at the thought of no longer hearing Kuniumi's voice in her head.
But almost more than that, she wanted to know what Shinigami was like. From what Haru told her after she woke up, she'd been in the Torimaku, alone, with Shinigami, for at least fifteen minutes before it all ended, maybe more. Curiosity drove her to wonder what Shinigami was like. Was he like Shin? In what way was he different?
She wanted to know, find out, as much as she could. Hearing what Shin told her about the reason behind why Shinigami killed the Nue on the mountain all those months ago only made her more curious to know Shinigami, in as limited a way as she could manage.
Pushing himself off the wall, Shin nodded as he picked up the basket and walked to her, tucking his free hand in his jacket pocket. "Are you sure?"
She hummed an affirmative, turning to follow him as he started back to the cashier. People continued to stare, but she was so focused on Shin, on what he said to her, that she hardly noticed.
"Maybe for the first time in a really, really long time," she said, smiling a little despite her nervousness. "I am absolutely sure about something."
×
"You're going do what with Shin?"
She gave Shiori's reflection in the mirror an entirely unimpressed look as she fixed her hair up into the perfect bun at the crown of her head. Shiori's hair was now just long enough for it, sweeping her shoulders, so it could be styled in different ways without the hindrance of stray hairs sticking out at odd ends. She was a long way off from Pai's two-inches-above-her-hips hair, though, now pulled back in a ponytail with the ends dangling just past her waist.
The two girls were in Shiori's bedroom, which was an obvious upgrade to Pai's room. Not surprising, considering she was just a handmaiden, while Shiori was the future of the Tengu Clan.
For one, it had a window overlooking one of the many beautiful gardens in the Palace, allowing a constant stream of the fresh, cool wind from the mountainside into the room. Shiori also had a full body-length mirror propped up on one end of her bedroom wall, gilded in elaborate designs along the frames. Her bedroom was like Pai's only in the red of the walls, and the somewhat similar stories told as paintings on the walls.
An unexpected addition to the room was Sato.
The cat had taken a liking to Pai, and started following her around everywhere she went since she returned from the city earlier that day. Lunch was the only time she didn't see him, but as soon as she left the massively crowded dining hall, Sato walked around a pillar to follow her wherever she went.
He even managed to sneak into her room, and curled up at her side when she took a short nap later in the afternoon. Now he was on Shiori's window sill, paws stretched out and body positioned so that he looked like a dark Sphinx watching the two girls with a distinct lack of interest.
Shiori was surprised to see the black cat strut into her room at Pai's heels, but she hadn't been particularly bothered. She didn't mind cats as much as she was slightly scared of dogs. Though Sato had become fixed to Pai's side, only going off once on his own, he didn't seem to have grown quite as fond of Shiori as he had Pai. He only gave her vaguely threatening narrow-eyed cat glares when she petted him. Pai had a feeling that it was because Shiori called him a 'cute little ball of fluff' as soon as she saw him. Pai wasn't entirely sure how much Sato understood of what was said around him, but considering he had two tails, she was willing to bet it was far more than she thought.
"No matter how I look at it," she declared. "The way you phrase that sounds...indecent." She ended, for lack of a better word. "You did it on purpose, right?"
She picked up the small tortoise-shell comb at her side to brush back a few loose strands she hadn't caught. The two Tengu girls from before had done Shiori's make-up – aiming for a natural look – but Shiori had insisted Pai fix her hair. Despite Shiori being so averse to anything to do with the Koki Sakura Hime, Pai noticed that she subconsciously gravitated to things close to it.
The yukata she bought for today's and tomorrow's festival was red fabric stitched in with blooming gold flowers, and soft pink cherry blossoms scattered around the hem. Shiori's favourite colours were anything between crimson red and garden pink. The hair pin Kouta bought her the other day, which Pai knew she considered her most cherished possession and was now fixed in her hair, was moulded in the shape of silver cherry blossoms.
Shiori snickered at her from the mirror. "I can be good with words too."
"Rarely."
"I still can though." She retorted mulishly. "Now please repeat what you just said before I bludgeon you to death."
Pai regretted saying anything at all. "Nothing. Never mind. It does not matter."
"Each and every one of those are conflicting statements." Shiori announced, leaning forward and waddling around on her knees until she was facing Pai full-on. "You don't say 'I can't go to the festival with you because Shin-san's going to help me remember what happened in the Torimaku you both might have died in with his Ability' and expect me to say, 'oh, sure, that's totally cool, go right-a-damn-head'." She shot out in a falsetto voice.
"I do not talk like that. And to be fair," she corrected, clasping the tortoise-shell comb in her hand. "I did not say anything about us dying."
Shiori dead-fish eyed her. "Moving on. It's unfair that you're missing the fireworks for the festival today, but I can understand that. I can also torture you relentlessly tomorrow by beating you at every game we play, because you are coming to the festival tomorrow, whether you want to or not. But are you sure about this?"
"Of course I am."
"Didn't he say that he's never done that...that thingy-majig thing with a human before?"
"He did."
"And is that completely flying over your head, or are you doing that thing where you ignore some little detail that's maybe not so little and might do way more harm than good?"
Pai tilted her head to the side. "Why are you freaking out more than I am?"
"Child, you're not freaking out at all." Shiori lifted a supercilious eyebrow. "And excuse me, you just dropped a bomb on me. First of all, I didn't know what his Ability is, though it explains a lot since he can go invisible. Then, of all memories you decide you want to see, it's the Torimaku where you met his bloodthirsty alter-ego. Then, you say that he told you to meet him in his room?" she ended on a shrill note. "Do you see why I might be hyperventilating and/or fangirling here?"
"Fangirling?" Pai echoed. "Why would you be doing that?"
Shiori rolled her eyes. "Never mind, we can talk about your total emotional obliviousness at a later date. But anyway Pai-chan, please tell me you thought this through and it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. He said he's never done this with a human, which means he doesn't know what might happen. It could all go wrong."
"You think I do not know all that?" she asked. Her voice was steady, her emotions still flat enough that her own genuine, and very real, fright at the risk she was taking didn't seep into her face or voice. "Shii-chan, it is all I have been thinking about. I know that he has not done this with a human, and I know something bad might happen because of it."
"At least you do," Shiori mumbled.
"I need to do this, Shii-chan. I am tired of living with a big hole in my head where my memories are supposed to be. I have a chance to do something about it, and I am going to take it. I know," she hastened to add. "I know it will not be easy, nothing ever is, but I still need to do this."
She stopped herself as soon as she realized that she had gone into a ramble. That was not what she needed right now. She didn't want to look like she was scared of her own decision, even though she was. She held her breath as she watched Shiori sit back on her heels, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she inspected Pai.
"Okay, okay." She said soothingly, flapping her hands in reassurance. "I'm not trying to talk you out of this. I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting yourself into."
A relieved sigh breezed out of her. Her lips kicked up in a small smile as she looked at Shiori slyly and remarked, "You do not know what it is to get into, either."
Shiori rolled her eyes. "Don't push your luck. I'm still going to be worried, and you know I go cross-eyed when I'm worried. But you have to make me a promise before you go."
Pai narrowed her eyes suspiciously, lips twitching to the side. "It depends on what it is."
Shiori laughed , the natural light-brown and gold highlights in her hair playing out as the rays of the sun streamed in from her open window.
Sato's tail twitched lazily at the sound of Shiori's voice rippling through the air, but he otherwise remained unmoving, eyes slit half-open in a way that made her unsure of whether or not he was watching them, or sleeping. She guessed it was a bit of both.
"Don't worry; it's nothing illegal or anything. Although, technically, you're legal anyway, but that's beside the point." She shook herself as she dragged her wayward attention back to the matter at hand. "Just promise me that we'll go to the festival together tomorrow. It's a really great festival, and it's fun, and you'll love it."
Pai made a show of putting a hand up to her chest like her heart had been just about ready to stop beating. "That I can promise. I am sorry I cannot go with you today."
Shiori waved her apology away, lifting her hand and dropping down one finger for every point she said. "One, you've compensated for it by fixing my hair for me. Two, Kouta's going to be there with me, so it'll be fine...except for everyone staring. And whispering, maybe talking loud enough that they know I can hear. And Misao-san said she'd find me during the festival. That's going be great. But it'll be fine." She gulping, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else.
"Yes, it will be fine." Pai said, trying to sound encouraging, though her killed emotions had her voice coming out flat and more sarcastic than anything else.
She rolled her eyes and continued. "And three, this is important to you. But be careful, and don't do anything stupid."
Unperturbed, she replied impassively, "When do I ever do anything stupid? That is your job. I'm the parent in this relationship."
Shiori glared, pointing a finger threateningly. "I am so going to beat you at every. Single. Game. And um..." her mock scowl faded away as she smoothed her hands down the front of her yukata. "Besides his thingymajig thing, are you okay? I mean, you seem kind of...off."
Pai listed her head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You're pretty quiet to begin with, but ever since the day before yesterday you've basically turned into a monk, and not like the cool big bro from Brave 10."
"Why are you mentioning Miyoshi?" she replied, naming the said monk from one of the many, many anime Shiori had binged before her basketball games.
Kuniumi found it endlessly ironic that Pai could so easily recall the names of characters from the most obscure anime she'd watched with Shiori, yet couldn't remember anything of her own past without help from someone else. Whenever Kuniumi brought that up Pai would fit in her earphones and play annoying music even she hated, just to irritate Kuniumi.
There were ups and downs to employing this tactic to get Kuniumi to shut up.
"He's the closest example of a cool monk I could think of off the top of my head." Shiori deadpanned. "Why are you avoiding the question?"
Pai just managed to stop herself from clicking her tongue in annoyance at herself. She thought that she had succeeded in keeping her dampened mood from showing itself on her face, but it looked like Shiori had known she was in depressingly low spirits the whole time.
I don't give her enough credit.
You do...and you don't.
What's that supposed to mean?
Everything and nothing. Interesting, isn't it? How she can be so totally oblivious to the most obvious things, like how you have bled for her, yet deceivingly perceptive about that which you wish to hide from her.
"Pai?"
Her gaze snapped up to Shiori, having strayed to stare at the silken red fabric of her yukata. "Mm?"
"You were going to tell me what's wrong with you? What happened to make you feel so down?" Shiori said, eyebrows raised sky-high in expectation. "Before my beautiful yukata distracted you, of course."
"No I was not," she said automatically, the lie coming so easily to her that it worried her. "Because there is nothing wrong with me."
"Lie."
"Not."
"Definitely lie."
"Shii-chan, I am fine. I am just a little nervous about...the thingymajig thing," she insisted, using Shiori's rather apt term for the quirk in Shin's Ability. She didn't know what else to call it.
Why don't you let anyone in? Kuniumi murmured in curiosity as Pai scrambled for any excuse to avoid telling Shiori that she'd been so out of it the last few days because of Midori.
Because she'd seen Midori in the streets of Kyoto, only a few metres in front of her, and lost her – and her own sister had run away from her.
Because she'd had a nightmarish dream that might be a reality where her sister was the reason why she killed so many people.
It doesn't matter.
What are you so afraid of? That you'll be a bother to those around you? That you're a nuisance? Why is your first instinct to shut everyone out? You're not like Bibari and Touka. They knew when to let people in.
"Little?" Shiori scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd be so nervous I wouldn't be able to even walk out the room."
Pai gestured with a self-explanatory hand, ignoring Kuniumi. "See? There you go. What you see as me being 'off' is actually me being so nervous I do not want to walk out the room."
Shiori narrowed her eyes. "Right."
Shiori was giving up on pushing her, but she didn't think that Shiori believed her. Pai's lips twitched in an empty smile in response, even as her stomach curled tight at the words echoing in her head.
You need to let someone in, Bibari. Touka had her lover and best friend to confide in. Kuniumi whispered, dangerous warning lining the edges of her every word.
Shut up.
You are shutting everyone out. Keep this up and you will be alone, where even Shin can't reach you no matter how he tries.
Stop it. Leave me alone.
Alone is the worst place for us to be. Alone is where insanity lurks with teeth of blood and iron.