seishinmuroi

Takeshi Mutou had been an outsider. It hardly mattered that he’d held a job at the Ozaki clinic (a managerial position for the office), that he’d resided in Sotoba for approximately eight years, that he participated in all of the rituals, that he was a member of the mourning crew, and that he knew just about everyone in the village. (Almost everyone had passed through the clinic at one point or other. And if patients were too ill to pick up their medication, it was typically Takeshi who went out on his bicycle to deliver it. [Their family did own a car but usually it was either his wife or one of his children who drove it. Takeshi was fine with that. He’d never had far to travel.])

That was why he supposed no one had been overly surprised or upset when he’d insisted he was leaving the village after that memorable Kagura festival, one he truly wished he could forget. Like his friend Yuuki (an outsider far newer than himself, one who’d only moved to the village around a year ago at the time), he hadn’t participated in the hurling of stones at the mistress of Kanaemasa. But Toshio, another friend, had been correct. When Yuuki had been adamant he hadn’t taken part in the butchery, Toshio had pointed out that just idly watching made him complicit. It had been the same for Takeshi. As horrified and stunned as he’d been, he hadn’t endeavored to intercede, to save that pitiful creature for more than a moment.

He’d harbored suspicions, nursed them in his heart, long before that fateful night. “What would you do if I told you the cause of all these deaths were corpse demons?” Toshio had asked him shortly after Ritchan’s passing with a perfectly straight face. Takeshi’s stomach had dropped. He could discern his heart hammering in his throat. Even as his dry lips moved to assert that it must have been a joke, even as he forced out a terribly unnatural sounding laugh, he couldn’t dismiss the query in his mind.

And he’d been there, working at the clinic when Ikumi-san had barged in shrieking about okiagari. It hadn’t seemed ludicrous then. (He’d been the one to rush in to inform Toshio although he hadn’t exactly been unaware. “I can hear it, loud as she’s being.”) And although Toshio had rebuked her, the sarcasm had been gentle, not biting which wasn’t like him. (Typically, frustration with Ikumi-san lead to scathingly derisive comments. [Toshio did get fed up with all the unnecessary house calls where he was forced to listen to her prattle about omens and supernatural forces.]) Furthermore, Toshio had seemed to intentionally rile her up, agitate her rather than calm her. He’d practically cajoled her into storming Kanaemasa and calling upon him should she need someone to check the residents' pulses. (Toshio had later been contacted although not specifically by Ikumi-san.)

At some point, Okiagari had no longer been confined to fables. So..no one was utterly shocked when Kirishiki-san’s nature was revealed. But..even if she’d been the cause of his son’s demise, Takeshi had not enjoyed watching her destruction. She’d screamed and wept, been as terrified as any human when confronted with their death. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Shimizu-san was confident it was her who’d murdered his daughter so it wasn’t as though Takeshi couldn’t understand his resentment, his acts of violence. Takeshi had attended Megumi-chan’s funeral and given the parents the condolence money from Toshio since he’d been unable to attend (much to his relief since the Shimizus clearly blamed him for Megumi-chan’s death). To lose a child was a terrible thing, a grief no one but a parent could appreciate. But all the same...the villagers had struck him as inhuman with their brutality.

Takeshi hadn’t smelled any perfume in his eldest son’s room. So perhaps the difference had been a matter of sureness rather than anything more substantial. He didn’t know who’d taken his son to the grave. It might have been Kirishiki-san or it might have been someone else. But..she’d just looked so wretched and pathetic. He wished he’d averted his gaze but..some force had compelled him to play observer. Initially, he’d tried to hold Toshio back, but he’d desisted soon enough, and several villagers had helped Toshio (including Shimizu-san) hammer a stake into her heart.

The villagers spoke of plans, hunting the shiki. But Takeshi knelt there on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t participate. He saw them as humans. And since his son had been killed by them, it was possible he’d risen. Even if he learned his son had murdered someone else, he couldn’t imagine it, driving a stake through his heart.

It wasn’t that Takeshi had blamed any of the villagers. The shiki were natural enemies of people. He’d said so directly. But he simply couldn't motivate himself to suppress his feelings, exterminate them. He’d decided he’d go to a land where people didn’t have natural enemies. He’d already sent his family to Mizobe to protect them. The idea was that he would join them there. He really didn’t want to see what would become of the village.

But in the end...he couldn’t leave. He supposed it wasn’t true that he was an outsider. Even if he had no family ties...He had been accepted into the village, participated in all the rituals. He’d made friends, raised a family there. He’d loved his job. And if Tohru still resided there, it seemed wrong to leave without confirming it for himself.

Takeshi had found Tohru with Ritchan, his precious colleague. And he’d been the one to murder them. It hadn’t been his intention. It was the last thing in the world he wanted. But neither his son nor his co-worker wished to hurt anyone. Tohru had implored him for acceptance, love and forgiveness for his sins, confessing that he had fed on countless villagers, that he’d been the one to kill his best friend, Natsuno. Ritchan had refused to feed, had yet to drink from anyone. She was starving and all she wished was to die without claiming any lives. They were in such pain...and they were resolved.

He’d spoken to his son in private for as much time as they could spare, holding him close, ruffling his hair, never flinching away even though his eyes were strange and his body temperature ice cold. This was his son, his beloved child. He’d assured Tohru of his unconditional love, reminded him that Tohru hadn’t asked for any of this, that he was placed in such a ridiculously unfair situation. Of course he didn’t blame him. Of course he never would.

Takeshi had tried to persuade his son to run away with him. He could donate his blood and he was sure his wife Shizuka would as well and Tohru’s siblings, Aoi-chan, and Tamotsu-kun. But Tohru was so weary..so frightened of harming anyone else. So fervently did he implore his father to kill him. Both Ritchan and Tohru would prefer it was someone they knew, someone they cared for who ended their second lives. Surely, that person would be more gentle. Surely that person wouldn’t gaze at them with contempt.

He’d wept but he’d done it. And then he’d fled before the mob arrived, unable to bear the thought of their enraged countenances. He doubted they’d be capable of perceiving his deed as a tragic. And still Takeshi hadn’t left the village.

The fire had broken out and he’d used his car to help evacuate women and children. He was one of the last people to leave for good and one of the first to return. When he heard the clinic was being rebuilt, he’d asked his family how they’d feel about moving back in. Their sentiments mirrored his own. They felt they belonged in Sotoba and that was where Tohru rested.

Takeshi had met with Toshio, asked for his job back in person. For some reason Toshio felt he was entitled to a raise. They were still friends. At least Takeshi wished to believe that. But there was unquestionably a heaviness between them. He didn’t like it. He so fiercely wanted to bridge the gap. Toshio had always been someone Takeshi admired, ever since he’d inherited the clinic. He much preferred him to his father. And their friendship was part of what made his time in Sotoba so enjoyable. He didn’t want to lose that too. So one day after work when it was just the two of them, Takeshi approached him.

“I know..things have been awkward between us. But I don’t blame you. Truly, I have no right to. With these hands..” And they began to shake even as he stared at them. He could feel it, the weight of those phantom stakes.

“I killed Tohru and Ritchan myself. It doesn’t matter that that’s what they wanted. I’m the same as you. I’ve killed in this village. I’ve watched its destruction and now I’m watching its rebirth. Maybe it’s impossible to return to the relationship we had before. But even if we can’t..I’d at least like us to talk a little more. Few people share our experiences. I can’t..even discuss any of this with my wife. Thankfully, I’d convinced Shizuka, Aoi, and Tamatsu to move to Mizobe before the Kagura festival. They know something strange happened. They likely guess the cause but no one discusses it. So they are spared definitive proof. There was an epidemic and a fire but those hard times are behind them now.” He wouldn’t take that from them. He’d spare them the nightmares.

It was Louis’ birthday! It was her birthday too! How wonderful was it that she shared a birthday with one of her favorite people in the whole wide world?! She’d known Louis her whole life since he was in fact one year older than her. One year exactly even what with them sharing a birthday like this! He’d always been bold while she was timid, confident while she was insecure. She really couldn’t imagine a world without him. Sometimes, it really was torture waiting for their monthly visits even if they could sense one another.

Now, she had another precious person, someone else to love, Noe. But poor Noe didn’t know when his birthday was! Humans had found him crying in the snow when he was little. It didn’t seem like they’d settled on a birthday to celebrate so it was up to Domi to fix that! Her, Louis, and Noe were together as much as possible! It only seemed right for them to grow up together.

“Noe!!!!!!!!! Noe!!!!!!!!!” she hollered in pure delight, rushing into his room, still wearing the silk pajamas with the pretty red ribbons she adored. Louis, hearing the racket, decided to investigate the cause of the ruckus.

“Noe, have you heard about how you decide on a teddy bear’s birthday?!” she gushed. When he shook his head she continued without any further prompting. “See, most people don’t know when their stuffed animals were made so it wouldn’t make any sense to make their birthday the day of their creation. They say that when you wrap a ribbon around your bear and give it a name, that’s when it becomes its birthday!”

Without wasting any time, she plucked one of the bows from her pajamas, although she had to struggle harder than she’d imagined to pry it loose. But the bow wasn’t enough to tie around him. Next, she ripped the bottom of her lacy pajamas and wrapped it around the bow. Finally she delicately tied it around his neck.

“I know you already have a name, Noe Archiviste but that shall no longer be your complete name! You’re one of us, Noe! From this day forth I do declare that you are Noe Archiviste de Sade!” she ejaculated, enthusiastically clasping his hands, spinning the two of them in a giddy circle.

When they ceased their twirling she whirled around to beam at her big brother. “Isn’t this wonderful, Louis?! Now Noe can share a birthday with us! He can get his own presents and request foods for Grandfather’s feast! Oh it will be so much fun! We’ll stay together forever and ever and ever! Nothing shall ever come between the three of us!” she vowed, finally dropping Noe’s hand but only so she could sprint into her room and retrieve two presents.

“I put a lot of thought into them and saved up so much money!” she panted, rather proudly, eyes gleaming with mirth and merriment. Noe’s package was wrapped in red, tied with a yellow bow while Louis’ was blue adorned with a silver ribbon.

“Go ahead! Open them!” she exclaimed, thrusting a box in each of their faces, bouncing on the balls of her heels eagerly anticipating the moment Noe’s hat and Louis’ carving knife would be revealed.

Her heart was empty. Her heart was full. Anguish threatened to consume her and yet...a hollowness had taken root. She was no longer remotely capable of discerning her own thoughts and emotions. The world had gone mad. Before...she'd believed she'd had troubles, that she'd even suffered but she hadn't known the meaning of the word, not really. Her lessons were harsh and her siblings often cruel, bitter disappointment invoking harsh criticism, callous remarks dogging her everywhere even in the rural village of Averoigne.

To her, Averoigne had been a safe haven, a respite from a world she felt rejected her. She wasn't as talented as her elder siblings. Nor did she consider herself particularly clever. As a member of the revered house de Sade, much was expected of her. And yet..regardless of her best efforts, she always managed to fall short of her family's ambitions. She wished to please them. She truly did. But..perhaps somewhere in the womb something had gone wrong. She was certain her siblings' potential far exceeded her own. Antoine's and Veronica's mastery of cryokinesis was something spectacular, the display both violent and ethereal. Both were hallowed members of society, Anotione being an honored member of the senate. What had Dominique accomplished? Nothing beyond causing her twin's death.

There was no doubt in her mind that this debacle was entirely her fault. She was the one who'd sprinted into the room, unannounced tears glistening in violet oculi, stammering about how she'd overheard the maids talking about Mina's execution. Louis was convinced that nothing could be done that once you were a cursebearer death was the only fate which awaited you. Neither Noe nor Dominique could accept a destiny so preposterous and barbarous. They'd played with her just the other day, eagerly kicking the ball between them while Louis watched from his perch up on the tree.

Mina was their friend. Losing her..it had been inconceivable. Noe and Dominique had been bound and determined to save her. Dominique had suggested they ask Fred and the others to help get her away from the village. But when they'd reached her side..what they'd witnessed was a scene beyond their wildest imagination. Mina, drenched in black and crimson, was feasting upon Fred. If Louis hadn't interfered, swiftly decapitated Mina like he had then in all likelihood Noe and Dominique would have perished too.

But Louis, her beloved brother, her twin in fact, had gone beserk. He slayed Silles and Fanny with his claws, groaning about how he craved warm blood. And then...he'd cried out to them, shrieking first Domi's name, ordering her to run and then calling for Noe, desperately urging them to hurry.

Louis had lunged himself at Domi but brave and gallant Noe had acted as her shield, pushed her aside while digging in his feet, endeavoring to ward Louis off, pleading with him to snap out of it, apologizing for not listening earlier, insisting that everything was his fault even though it was Domi's, only hers. She'd brought the news to Noe's sensitive ears. She'd been the one who couldn't stomach the thought of letting their cherished friend meet the bourreaus' blade. She'd rushed to Noe's side because she knew he'd understand her fervent wish and that he'd reciprocate it. Together they could save her...Only they couldn't. It was too late. And perhaps the stress was what had triggered her brother's deterioration, his transformation.

Her brother had implored Noe to kill him. "Please Noe. I can't go back...to normal anymore. The bourreaus will cut off my head soon....Noe listen...if I'm gong to die anyway..I'd really rather you were the one...to kill me." Those were the last words her brother spoke. They would haunt her all her life.

Why Noe? Did even Louis consider Domi too weak to be of service? Was it that Noe was more precious to him than her after the countless hours the pair had spent together when she was laboring in the city? Was it because he'd never forgiven her for those careless words uttered in ignorance, when she'd professed him lucky? Or was it that he'd wished to spare her a terrible burden because he loved her so?

In truth, she'd never felt entirely alone. No, she hadn't realized Louis was her twin before Veronic had deemed Domi a fool, relaying the situation plainly. (Although Veronica had long since acknowledged her younger sister's incompetence.) But...no one could deny they'd shared a fierce bond. She'd always felt his voice reverberating inside her. Before she could write and they could exchange letters...she could swear he knew her intimate thoughts and emotions, her heart. Now...had she lost all of that?

Would she lose Noe too? He'd collapsed after she'd bequeath Louis' final gift, a chest filled to bursting with stakes, 66 to be precise. She'd counted them as she'd gathered them after Noe had been ferried away to bed. She just...hadn't known what else to do with herself. And..regardless of how painful the stakes were now...it seemed wrong to dispose of Louis' final present. And he'd entrusted Domi with the responsibility of delivering them. She..she had to care for them.

She'd locked them up in the trunk and hidden them out of sight. If Noe should make inquiries, she'd let him know where the article was but now...she didn't find that especially likely.

When he'd regained consciousness, he'd clung to her, breathing in her scent, calling her Louis, ejaculating his relief that it had all been a dream. But it hadn't been. Louis was dead, decapitated by her grandfather and their teacher as they watched in helpless agony, utterly powerless. He'd never return. Never again would they be graced with his gentle smile, greeted with his tender teasing. And she was to blame for all of it. It should have been her. She should have been the one to die. Noe felt it too.

Although Veronica had expressed a complete lack of interest in fathoming a life where Louis was the one Father had favored while Domi grew up cloistered in the country, with a sadistic smile she had wondered if perhaps Louis wouldn't have served the family's interests better, lived up to their expectations even a trifle more than her. Domi...was abominable...an unwanted creature of little worth, a mistake as well as a misfortune.

She'd cut her hair...determined to emulate Louis to the best of her ability, be better like him. Domi wasn't sure if it would please Noe or not...She hoped it would. But they had to talk. Veronica had come to retrieve her and she wasn't known for her patience. Likely in a few hours time, Domi would depart so...she absolutely had to speak with Noe.

With trembling fingers, she timidly knocked on his door, this time awaiting a proper invitation. "Noe?" she called out softly, voice barely above a whisper. "May I come in?"

This was stupid. It was almost like Natsuno was torturing himself, coming this close to the home of his only friends in Sotoba. He and Toshio had already agreed on a war of attrition. They would do remarkably little, practically speaking nothing, until the shiki were assured of their victory. They’d wait until the last moment to turn the tables. As painful as it was to sit back, that was precisely what they intended to do. They would watch more and more villagers die. But..all the same..Natsuno couldn’t stomach the thought that one of those villagers might be the Mutous.

Surely...Tohru would do anything in his power to protect his family. There really was no point in coming here at all but really...How well did Natsuno even know this Tohru, the one who would kill his best friend despite his own anguish? Those were tears Natsuno had felt on his cheek, cold as ice when Tohru had come to him that last time. It would seem that okiagari could still cry...just like humans.

It really was unfair, how much this shiki Tohru resembled his living and breathing best friend, the first person to take a genuine interest in Natsuno. Yes, Tohru had been filled with regret, had absolutely loathed himself for his actions. He’d never desired Natsuno’s death, never wished to hurt him. His family had been threatened. Natsuno knew too much. And..Tohru hadn’t been brave enough to run away with Natsuno, reveal himself to his family so they could flee too, remain safe and help feed him. But..Natsuno didn’t know what had led Tohru to that point.

What had the shiki done to him when he rose? Natsuno was in a unique position. Tatsumi (who loved the sound of his voice far too much) had been all too keen on explaining just why jinrou were special. (And no he hadn’t appreciated Natsuno’s apparent lack of interest.) Normal shiki took a couple of days to rise up. Jinrou were transformed at the brink of death and hence were mobile fairly quickly after their lives as humans had come to a close.

The timing had worked in his favor. He’d died shortly after sunrise. Toshio had been summoned quickly enough to confirm his passing. But almost as soon as he’d left, Natsuno had...recovered wasn’t the right word. He’d risen. He’d gleaned the details from his father (who had not been handling the situation especially well). Then he'd convinced his father to inform people that he'd been cremated. (People were busy. And really, who would care to double check?)

Given his atypical circumstances, the shiki hadn’t been able to intervene, indoctrinate him. But what about Tohru? Everyone had known where he was buried. Had they dug him up before he’d been reanimated? What had they done to him to convince him that it was natural for the shiki to kill when if they would only vary their meals everyone could recover? Had they tortured him? Brainwashed him?

Natsuno didn’t have a clue. But he didn’t trust Tatsumi and didn’t want to be lumped in together with the other shiki. He wasn’t on their side. He really wished he’d just stayed dead. But he was in limbo, stuck in between life and death and...he couldn’t forsake this chance he’d been given. Kaori, Akira, and the Mutous needed him as did the only other person who seemed to be aware of the nature of this crisis, Toshio.

What Natsuno did understand was that he couldn’t perfectly predict Tohru’s behavior any longer. Tohru didn’t want his family to die; but, that didn’t mean he’d prevent the shiki from attacking them if said course of action would lead to his own destruction. And maybe...a part of him hoped they would rise up like him so he wouldn’t feel so lonely, isolated.

And so here Natsuno was...surveying their home once more. Although he wasn’t certain what he would even do if another shiki showed up. He didn’t know if that tiny bit of blood he’d drank from Toshio would enhance his strength enough to defeat them. And even if he was capable of beating them into submission, his newfound physical prowess would reveal his position, notify the shiki that he was in fact consuming sanguine liquid. The element of surprise was the only thing Toshio and himself had working in their favor. If the shiki should suspect they were collaborating...things would end rather poorly to put it mildly.

Well..there was no point in worrying about that now. He would check. He needn't concern himself with being spotted in the dark especially since now almost all of the residents of Sotoba were wary of the night even if they refused to admit it. Almost no one wandered around outside after the sun set. And really..if Tamotsu or Aoi espied his countenance it would be better for them. Likely, they’d just rationalize it away, convince themselves it had been a trick of the light. But in their subconscious at least, the suspicion would take root. One day perhaps that doubt would save them.

Natsuno couldn't help but scowl as he hid in the bushes, an unpleasant image of Megumi bubbling up in his mind. He wasn't like her. He wasn't trying to invade the Mutous' privacy. He was endeavoring to protect them. If he had to play the role of stalker to achieve that end so be it.

Yasuyo had phoned surprisingly early. All the same, Rit-chan had been anticipating her call although she'd hoped it would come from Toshio himself. During work hours of course she referred to him as Dr. Ozaki because she was a professional and he was her boss. No matter how much time they'd spent together as children, no matter how close they were, it wouldn't do to sound too casual or informal when she was on the clock.

She always felt a little different when she donned her nurse unifrom. Yes, her basic personality remained consistent. She was cheerful and outgoing, perhaps a touch nosy as all of the villagers were. (Although in her case, it genuinely stemmed from a place of caring.) But there was a subtle shift in demeanor. Part of that alteration involved speech patterns. When they were in private, Toshio teased her mercilessly about it since he simply called her Rit-chan regardless of the setting. It didn't bother her. It was proof of his affection for her. And he was never the sort to mind his tongue to begin with. Although these days...she knew that wasn't the case.

Sotoba was changing. This was no longer the same village she'd grown up in and adored with all her heart. People were dying left and right. People were quitting jobs they'd cherished their whole lives. People were moving out in the middle of the night without so much as a word of goodbye. Neighbors would rise, stunned to find that another person they'd associated with for years if not decades had suddenly vanished. There'd usually be someone who saw them leave. (Sotoba was that sort of place after all.) There'd be some gossip about how they were moving in with extended family or in cases where they had no connections outside of Sotoba, how they were going to marry someone in the city. But it was all so strange. Rit-chan didn't like it.

There was no question in her mind that Toshio knew far more than he was willing to disclose. It wasn't that him spending countless hours with Seishin was suspicious in and of itself. The two were quite close, friends since childhood. Once they'd been practically inseparable. Then they'd been estranged when they were high school students before their senior year entrance exams. (Rit-chan felt during that span of time that it was quite possible she'd been a more frequent companion of Toshio's than Seishin.)

During Toshio's and Seishin's university days, they hadn't had much contact. But then when Toshio's father passed away he'd returned to Sotoba to inherit the clinic, their friendship had more or less resumed right where it had left off. Of course there had been some growing pains as they'd become adults. But the awkwardness had faded soon enough.

Rit-chan had already been working in the clinic for around four years by that point. A nursing degree was obtained much more quickly than a doctor's license after all. Since Toshio and her already shared a bond, she'd helped him integrate himself with the other staff members who were initially a bit put off by his sharp tongue and brusque demeanor. And well..in Sotoba, most people were rigid, set in their ways, not overly fond of change of any sort. The late Dr. Ozaki had run a tight ship, one incredibly different than Toshio's. The late Dr. Ozaki had commanded everyone's respect for years and when Toshio demolished his office to clear some room for imporant machinary, some had felt it was done in poor taste.

"It was too soon," they'd whispered (even though he'd waited two years and had taken out a loan to accomplish said feat) but loudly enough that Toshio was certain to overhear. And they'd complained about how there wasn't a need for such fancy technology in the first place when anyone in critical condition was sent to the hospital in Mizobe or the university hospital.

Rit-chan had been a vocal advocate for Toshio, insisting that surely patient health should be prioritized over an office that was really needlessly large to begin with. It was certainly better to err on the side of caution. A C.T. scanner machine could help them realize that a patient's condition was more serious than they'd believed that much sooner. Then they could be sent to a bigger hospital with better equipment straight away, receive the best help. It could save lives. And yes, Toshio wasn't exactly the most polite human being on the planet but he was sincere which was more important. He was rather awful at articulating his emotions (especially gratitude) but he'd never deceive anyone. When you asked a question, he'd either refuse to discuss it or you'd receive a genuine answer.

In time, Toshio had won over every member of his staff. They saw what Rit-chan had seen in him from day one, a dependable man who would do anything for his clinic, someone who would never shirk his responsibilities. Once you walked into this clinic, Toshio would do everything in his power to ascertain your health. And even though he'd always grumble about house calls, he rose early and went home late if patients were reluctant or unable to travel to the clinic for any reason. (Although in some cases, he wouldn't especially rush. Ikumi had been the village hypochondriac much like Megumi-chan. Although Megumi-chan had always approached the clinic herself. [Toshio had inevitably sighed when a nurse announced her name.])

But yes, Toshio was nursing secrets. Even though several nurses had offered to help with Setsuko-san's treatment, he refused to let anyone share the night shift with him. No one besides Seishin, who had no medical training, entered the clinic after it was closed for the day. Seishin had imparted a dubious tale to Yasuyo about how his latest novel involved a doctor and Toshio was kind enough to answer his questions so he was keeping him company at night.

First of all, Seishin was more of a book researcher than anything. Rather than make direct inquiries with someone well versed in a relevant field of interest, if there was any opportunity to tease the answers from a book, he would immerse himself in the world of literature. He didn't seem to like discussing his novels with anyone, not even after they were published. Toshio and Rit-chan purchased every magazine which published his essays and of course they bought his books as well. Toshio displayed his magazines in the waiting room, much to Seishin's annoyance. But yes, Rit-chan had learned it was best to just state that she'd enjoyed his work rather than provide any queries or specific insights.

So the notion that Seishin had willingly, without any prompting or prodding, conversed about his latest project (something he seemed to regard with all the reverence of an infant growing in the womb from her perspective) struck her as bizarre to begin with. Then him seeming indebted to Toshio because he took the time to answer some questions when they met so frequently was just as strange especially since there was no doubt in Ritsuko's mind that he was assisting Toshio with the investigation of the pandemic. (Seishin was prying into the affairs of the parishioners much more than he normally would have.) And finally, even if Seishin had chosen to keep Toshio company of his own volition, Toshio would have accepted the aid of one of his nurses for the night shift if there was nothing to conceal because in an emergency one of the nurses could immediately provide treatment if they were the one on watch. Seishin could do nothing but rouse Toshio.

Then...Toshio had prevented all of the staff from interacting with Kyouko-san since she was moved to the clinic. Yasuyo had transported her to her room and hadn't seen her once since. Everyone else, (Yasuyo included) found it romantic that Toshio wished to tend to his wife by himself but...no one else seemed to realize just how unlike Toshio that was. Yes, he definitely had an affection for Kyouko-san. But they weren't that close. The relationship wasn't romantic. (There was a reason that Ritsuko had been the one to make a sandwich for Toshio during his night shift and not Kyouko-san although she never had managed to deliver it.) And...Toshio wasn't that type of possessive. Even if he'd loved Kyouko-san passionately, he wouldn't have insisted on doing everything himself. He'd simply want her to get the best care and that would mean relying on others so he could sleep, function at full efficiency.

Something was going on. Ritsuko hadn't been able to shake the image of Nao-chan wandering the hills that night Ritsuko had attempted to deliver a late night snack to Toshio and Seishin. Okiagari weren't real. They were bedtime stories meant to scare children. But..Kyouko-san had alread died. She'd known that. She'd been certain even if no one else had. Five days ago..She'd just known like she always did. She hadn't breathed a word to anyone. They'd just laugh at her and insist she get more sleep, take better care of herself. Toshio was the only one who'd ever taken much stock in her intuition. Although, in general Ritsuko tended to hide it. It wasn't a very charitable thought but..she really didn't wish for people to view her in the same light as Ikumi (who had also disappeared under mysterious circumstances after marching upon Kanemasa and accusing its residents of being okiagari).

But Kyouko-san had died five days ago. And just a little bit ago...some time after Yasuyo's phone call, she'd died again. And..there'd been those recurring nightmares starting six days ago. At first Kyouko-san's body, surrounded by packets of ice, lay perfectly still. Brain waves were detected. The early stages of rigor mortis (which had never progressed much) had been reversed. The sun caused her skin to blister and burn. She was moved to the operation room where Toshio taped her mouth shut so no one could discern her screams. None of the drugs worked. He couldn't euthanize her or even dull the pain. Brutal experiments were conducted. And finally, it all ended when he hammered a stake through her heart.

Ritsuko had always woken up gasping, drenched in sweat. Fortunately, both her mother and Midori-chan were heavy sleepers. And gasping was not screaming. The sound was muted and muffled and so the only one in pain was Ritsuko.

She had to go. Toshio needed her. And if the dream was true...(as ridiculous a notion as that was), he could certainly use some help. As she approached the clinic, she very nearly literally ran into Seishin. They managed to avoid a collision at the last possible second but both of them had very clearly been lost in their own thoughts, distressing ones.

"Junior monk, are you alright?" she'd asked with concern. (This close to the clinic she was very nearly in nurse mode so he was "junior monk" rather than Seishin.)

He mumbled his apologizes, babbled something about needing to oversee some temple business, and then fled. Icy fingers had gripped her heart. Rather than be surprised by his abnormal behavior, what she felt was dread. If he'd viewed the same scene she had witnessed in her dreams..then his reaction was far too natural.

She let herself into the clinic and hurriedly collected a bundle of gauze before hesitantly knocking on the operation room doors. Since the clinic was officially closed, after a moment of deliberation, she'd for some reason decided against donning her nurse uniform. She'd chosen to come as Ritsuko first and foremost.

"Toshio, I have some gauze for Kyouko-san. Would you like some help?" she asked softly, tenderly. It was the first time she'd ever called him Toshio in the clinic.