#connan's posts

Notes:

This fic is a bit random tbh, it came from me thinking about how it’s wild that despite the fact Rika/Satoko is one of my favorite ships I’ve only written (1) story for them, and it was now… almost 6 years ago lmao. So I wanted to write something cute and fluffy about them and that’s how it ended up. The fact this came out during June was completely accidental; I wanted to finish it last month, actually, but hey! Happy Watanagashi and Pride month, I guess!

And happy birthday as well, Satoko!

They’re adults here though I haven’t decided a proper age exactly, so it can be anywhere from ~18-25, you choose lol. Obviously this takes place somewhere post-canon, but I don’t have any specific continuity in mind.

Content Warnings: Brief mentions of past child abuse and of child sexualization/grooming because of Satoko’s childhood, as well as child death because of Rika, but nothing explicit.

* * *

In retrospect, Satoko really should have seen that one coming.

The sky had been gray and peppered with big, heavy clouds when she first stepped outside — but she had thought, naively, that it wouldn’t rain until tonight so she would be safe.

Well, she’d been wrong.

She was in the forest testing out her newer traps; quite a few convoluted ones she was rather proud of and was quite excited to try out on Keiichi and Nii-nii. Occasionally she’d get some comments, with fondness from her friends and with annoyance from other villagers, about how she was too old to still pull this type of mischievous pranks — but Satoko never paid them any mind. Traps were too much fun to ever grow out of them; they were the best use of her intelligence, and they could, in fact, very much be more than useful. They’d helped them win against Takano and the Yamainu, after all! Still one of the best achievements of her life, to this day.

So yes, Satoko might be an adult now, but that wouldn't stop her from pursuing her favorite pastime. Whenever she had a free moment, heading to the mountains to test her skills remained one of her first reflexes.

She’d been at this for hours today, and just as she was about to wrap it up, a droplet crashed onto her cheek. Annoyed, she looked up and saw that the sky was indeed much darker and more threatening than before. A storm might be brewing; but since it was still early, she’d have plenty of time to get home before the rain.

No sooner had the thought left her head than a thunder ripped through the sky, making her jump. A torrential downpour descended upon her; so violent and heavy that the raindrops, tearing at leaves and branches, lashed her to the bone.

Her body reacted on instinct before her mind could catch up and she started running as fast as possible. The rain was so powerful that even deep in the forest, the trees were unable to protect her from it. She ran and ran and ran, stretching her muscles to their limit until the effort made her ache — but with how strong the rain was, the soil beneath her quickly became flabby and slithery. Her feet slipped and she collapsed on the ground with all her weight, face first.

She cursed under her breath while struggling to get back on her feet, but every time she managed to push herself up onto her hands and knees, the mud and rain got the better of her and she slipped again. She had to lean against a tree before she could stand upright; and by then, she was already covered in sludge, leaves, and branches, all of it splattered over her blond hair and face, soiling shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

With that weather, it took her at least an hour to reach the edge of the forest, falling back to the ground several times along the way; and when she finally caught sight of Hinamizawa's traditional houses and the roof of the Furude Temple, she almost wept with relief.

Satoko was not a crybaby anymore, though — not as much, at least — so she held back her tears and, exhausted, wobbled toward the little shack she’d shared with Rika as a home for about a decade now.

She didn’t get to enter their house that a familiar silhouette was already waiting for her — Rika herself, standing in front of the door. Her hair, cut off short years ago, floated above her shoulders and the casual summer dress she'd worn almost every day these past weeks. Arms crossed, she was tapping her foot rhythmically with a fake pleasant expression on her face; which meant she was as worried as she was irritated by Satoko's lateness.

Satoko grinned at her, raising a hand, feeling the mud caked on her face pull at the corners of her mouth and cheeks. “Hey,” she said in a tired voice.

Rika stared at her from head to toe, and while her smiling-mask didn’t slip, Satoko knew she must be boiling inside.

“You look great,” she said coolly.

“Thanks.”

“You better remove all of that in the entrance because I am not cleaning the house if you dirty anything inside.”

“I’m the one who’s of cleaning duty this week, am I not?”

Rika didn’t reply, only turning her back to head inside. Satoko sighed but did just as she was told. She removed her shoes first, then her shirt and shorts; and when Rika came back with a basket in her arms, Satoko was standing in her underwear, feeling cold and a little silly.

“Put your dirty clothes in there, and leave the shoes on the side,” Rika instructed, setting the basket on the floor. “I’ve run the bath already, it should be hot in a couple of minutes.”

Satoko nodded, thanked her, and listened to her like an obedient child. After stuffing all of her clothes into the container, she noticed Rika was still staring at her with narrowed eyes.

“All of your dirty clothes,” she added, and Satoko gaped at her.

“You want me to get butt-naked in the entrance? I can undress completely in the bathroom—”

“Your underwear are also full of mud. I don’t want that inside the house.”

And the worst part was, she was right. Somehow the mud did manage to soak through her clothes and stain her bra and panties, albeit to a lesser degree as the rest.

“I’m the one who’ll clean up!” Satoko protested.

“Then you should thank me I’m trying to make your job easier. What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s only the two of us here, and I see you naked all the time.”

“Ugh, you can’t just say that,” Satoko grumbled, “now you’re just trying to embarrass me!”

Rika’s face stayed unflinchingly neutral, but Satoko knew her well enough — better than anyone in the world, really — to recognize the teasing glint in her purple eyes and that she was trying really hard not to laugh.

She might be a little pissed at the whole thing, but it was clear she was having way too much fun with the idea of bossing Satoko around, when it was usually the opposite.

Well, it wasn’t like she was wrong. The two of them had been best friends since they were toddlers, and they’d taken baths together countless times. And as they grew older, they’d then gotten even more opportunities to see each other naked as well. There was nothing about Satoko that Rika didn’t know, her body included.

Still, it was about the principle — she just didn’t enjoy the idea of stripping in the middle of the entrance... However she also knew Rika wouldn’t budge on her opinion — so, glaring at her, Satoko slowly removed her panties. Then she reached for her bra, but struggled to unhook it — the mud, exhaustion, and cold had numbed her hands, making the task more difficult, so Rika gestured at her to turn around. She felt her slender fingers flutter at her skin, butterfly-touches barely palpable, as she silently worked on the clips.

Rika’s hands were cold. They always were, for some reason. As if her body remembered all the deaths she had experienced and it was stuck to her very being, like a second skin, like a curse.

Satoko shivered and pushed the morbid thoughts aside as the mud-stained pink bra was removed, her breasts slopping down. Rika muttered “All done,” from behind her, her voice soft and fond.

It reminded Satoko of the first time she had tried on a bra, when she was nearly thirteen. She’d hated the idea of wearing one; it made her feel too constricted, like a rope wrapped around her chest preventing her from breathing, tying her down to the inevitability of adulthood — but her breasts had grown too much by then, and as a girl who moved around a lot, it simply was too inconvenient to leave them be. Rika had felt envious about it, which Satoko hadn't been able to wrap her mind around. To her, not having to wear such an oppressive cloth was a benediction. Only once she was much older did she realize it had been part of Rika’s almost obsessive yearning to be seen as a mature woman and not a little girl anymore.

So Nee-nee had taken her and Rika on a shopping trip, made Satoko try on and buy at least a dozen of different underwear, and Satoko had pouted the entire time with how much the idea pissed her off. She’d shed frustrated tears as she tried to unfasten the bra from behind her back and couldn’t manage it, so Rika had helped her out. It had been just like now; her fingers gentle as they danced over her shoulder blades, the way it made Satoko shiver and crave for something more she couldn’t quite understand then, the endeared look on Rika’s face that made her wonder what must be going on in her head.

Since then, Satoko had learned to remove bras without help; but occasionally, Rika would just pass behind her and do it instinctively, long entrenched habits taking over, just like whenever she brushed Satoko’s hair away from her face or wiped her mouth after a meal.

Soft lips suddenly pressed on the back of Satoko’s nape. She yelped and jumped around to stare at Rika with shocked, wide eyes.

“R-Rika? What the hell? I’m covered in mud!”

Rika smiled, a touch mischievous. “I’m aware. C’mon, the bath must be hot now, mii!”

She turned around, short dark hair flowing behind her, and Satoko groaned in annoyance and followed. Walking in their home naked felt a little weird, and she couldn’t help but quicken her pace slightly once she reached a window, even though there was no way anyone could see her from here. Just like Rika had said, their old-fashioned wooden bath was already steaming; the whole room warm and filled with vapor, and Rika kneeled to gauge the water temperature.

Before Satoko could get in, however, Rika picked up the shower head — the one Satoko had fabricated herself a few years ago by using recycled pieces — and turned it on full blast. The water jet shot out with such force that it almost hurt Satoko when it hit her.

“Rika!” she yelped. “Couldn’t you have warned me?”

“What else do you think I was gonna do in the bathroom? You’re not getting into the tub like that.”

“It’s hot!”

“It’s tempered.”

Satoko let out a frustrated sigh but couldn’t argue as Rika aimed the water on her face, splashing away her hair along with the mud. Of course Rika was right, she couldn’t just jump into the bath in that state or it would just dirty the water and render the whole thing pointless. But still, Rika’s behavior was always so exasperating.

She felt like a kid again; nostalgia filling her mind as she reminisced the times she played outside all day during summer and ended up grimy from head to toe, so Nii-nii would clean her up by using a garden hose.

As soon as Rika finished aiming at her legs and chest and waist, she turned the jet off; then grabbed Satoko to help her step inside the basin, her legs feeling a little shaky with the strain of fatigue. She sank her full weight into the hot water, plunging up to her neck, her head resting on the edge. The bath wasn’t big enough for her to completely spread out her legs, but having to bend her knees didn’t bother her.

She closed her eyes; and for a few seconds, her mind blanked. The hot water engulfed her body, engrossed her whole being, the steam making her feel like she had just entered a dream. Instantly relaxed, she let her back hit the rim of the tub. She felt at ease; her muscles loose and skin flabby and hair soggy.

She could almost fall asleep, this way; the exhaustion of the day and of her mad run through the forest downing on her. She could still hear the rain outside, some flicker of thunders, but it seemed so far away now, unreachable in the safety of her home.

Satoko didn’t really like baths usually. She wasn’t sure why. Some fragmented memories, that might come from somewhere or nowhere at all, flashed through her mind whenever she dipped her toes into a bathtub — a large man towering over her and a gruff voice ordering her to stay into scalding water until she counted up to an unreasonable high number; her skin peeling off and her lungs suffocating and numbness spreading through each of her limbs.

It made her feel uncomfortable, so she generally took showers instead. It was quicker, anyway; Satoko always preferred practicality, and she didn’t entirely see the point to spend hours and hours in the bathroom like Rika or Nee-nee seemed to reveal in.

But at that precise moment, she wasn’t uncomfortable. Not when she felt, with extreme gentleness, hands in her short hair; fingers gliding through her damp blond strands, massaging her scalp back and forth, slowly and intensely. She mustered her strength to open her eyes and saw Rika, kneeled in front of the bathtub, her hair tied back in a short ponytail and her sleeves rolled up, soaping her head with such a focused expression, as if it was the most thing important she’d ever done in her life.

“Rika...?”

“Shh,” Rika said in a soft, tender voice that melted Satoko’s heart. “I’m taking care of everything; so just relax.”

Satoko was too tired to protest, so she closed her eyes again as Rika kept stroking her head. She felt a bit like an animal, or a little child. The thought would have annoyed her, usually — she’d tried so hard to become independent after Nii-nii’s disappearance that it would be insulting to regress like that. But in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care. The water was warm, Rika’s fingers were soothing, and her chest was full and loving and nothing in the world was wrong.

After a little while, Satoko felt Rika change her target; she went from her hair to to her neck, shoulders, clavicles, breasts. She lingered on her back, her hands expertly and softly rubbing the skin, her thumb putting a little more pressure on the shoulder blades.

She was very gentle. She always was, whenever she touched Satoko. Her fingertips felt like fleeting kisses; lingering on her skin like a bee on a flower, a cat's whiskers brushing against ankles, never remaining long enough to be invasive.

Satoko had never really liked being touched. Perhaps she did a long, long time ago, when she was so little she barely had any memories of it. She was fine with Nii-nii hugging her or Keiichi patting her head or Nee-nee kissing her cheek; but a stranger grabbing her arm made her stiffen; a handshake evoked nauseous feelings inside her stomach. Even being stared at for too long gave her the urge to flee.

She often felt like a frustrating, walking contradiction; she yearned for affection and physical warmth, but her body systematically rejected the slightest contact, her mind turning chary at the merest touch, blaring alerts from every pore; waiting for something, pain or harm or uneasiness, to befall her.

She hated the way her whole self seemed to have been rewired entirely to expect heavy blows to fall on her; to have vile eyes ogling at her body, at her breasts and waist and thighs, measuring which part of it could be useful to them one day, what pleasure they could derive from it, without Satoko getting to say a word about it.

In other people’s eyes and hands, Satoko hadn’t been a girl for a long time; she’d been a doll, to abuse and play with and mold to their whims — a child turned into a toy for an adult’s desire before she was even old enough to understand what it meant.

Even now, even fully grown and years and years after, the instincts and feelings persisted, no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

She’d never really told any of this to anyone — not exactly, not in words — but Rika seemed to understand nonetheless. She’d understood even when they were children. Satoko remembered being ten, being scarcely alive after her brother’s disappearance, spending the first night here with Rika. She was no more than a doll, then; as if she had resigned herself to becoming what all the adults around her had tried to make of her. Rika had grabbed her hand and undressed her and washed her into the tub just like this; had massaged her scalp and scrubbed her skin and washed her without a single sound, a single complaint, before carrying her to bed with the utmost tenderness.

Satoko had barely been present at that time, but afterwards it had become one of her warmest, most cherished memories.

Rika kept doing it; whenever she had to touch Satoko, whenever she helped her undress or washed her or made love to her, Rika always handled her the same.

Hot water slammed into Satoko's body from the shower head, washing away the soap residue, the thick white lather and the bubbles, and she giggled a little when Rika splashed her. She’d throw some water back at her if she hadn't been so exhausted.

Just as she was completely rinsed Rika turn off the water, and suddenly it was as if Satoko was a marionette whose strings had been cut; she staggered while trying to stand up in the tub, and Rika caught her, wrapping her arm around her naked body and pulling her flush against her chest. Satoko didn’t even try to resist. She let her face bury itself in the crook of her neck as Rika embraced a towel around her, almost enveloping them both.

“Rough day, huh?” Rika murmured into her ear, her lips warm against her lobe. “Told you you shouldn’t have gone out.”

“As if you knew it was going to rain,” Satoko mumbled.

“I absolutely knew. I’m Oyashiro’s priestess, remember? I can predict these things. Do you need me to carry you like a princess?”

Satoko snorted, and thought this didn't even deserve an answer. Usually she might have retorted, You’re the one who loves being treated like a princess, not me, but this time she was just content to snuggle against Rika. Honestly, she wouldn’t even have said no to being carried — but she doubted Rika was strong enough for it. Rika laughed, a tinkling and bright sound, as she kept rubbing Satoko’s hair and back, before finally pulling her out of the bathtub.

Satoko practically let her do all the work. She let her dry her, wiping her entire body; she let her grab her pajamas, yellow and white and stripped, and put on every single sleeve and pant leg one by one.

Rika did not carry her, but she wrapped Satoko’s arm around her shoulder and helped her walk outside the bathroom, heading directly for their futon that Rika had already prepped beforehand. She insisted for them to eat something quick despite Satoko not being hungry — which ended up being dorayaki and senbei with sweet bean paste — before she was able to settle under the comfort of her blanket. Rika pulled the cover over her, and Satoko might have fallen asleep instantly here and there, if not for the fact Rika rose up again.

Her arm moved almost reflexively, grabbing a pan of her dress. “Where are you going?” she muttered, her words slurred. At this point she had to fight to stay awake.

“I still have university work to do...”

Satoko stared at her blankly. A shiver ran through her.

Right. It was summer now, but once the holidays were over, Rika would leave again. She was used to it by now — or at least, she should be. But tonight, the weight of that prospect overwhelmed her, filling her with a strange feeling.

“Stay,” Satoko said, almost begging.

She knew she was being unfair. Rika was very busy with school. She didn’t want to be selfish — had tried so hard to stop being that person, all those years ago when her brother disappeared.

But she didn’t want to be alone right now. She wanted Rika’s hands on her, in her hair and around her waist; she wanted to feel her warmth and her heartbeat against her ear, just like when they were children and slept together because one of them had a nightmare.

Rika stared at her. She didn’t say anything, but as usual Rika didn’t need words.

“Well, I can take care of that tomorrow,” she concluded, before lying down and settling under the blanket in the futon, at Satoko’s side where she belonged.

Satoko wrapped herself around Rika right away, her arms embracing her waist and her head resting on her chest where she could hear her heart, beating and alive and still, forever defiant of fate.

“However,” Rika said softly, hand caressing her hair, “I have one condition.”

“Hm.”

“When I tell you not to go outside, you listen to me. Or else it’s the last time I’m taking care of you like this.”

Satoko didn’t answer, sleep already claiming her; but she thought there was no way Rika meant that.

She would absolutely end up doing it again, because she knew she loved taking care of Satoko almost as much as Satoko loved taking care of her.

* * *

Notes:

I know there used to be (maybe still is?) some debates within the fandom about whether or not Satoko was sexually abused by her uncle. Personally, I don’t believe she was — Ryukishi usually tend to stay away from sexual violence in his works, and if he wanted this to be part of Satoko’s trauma I think he would’ve made it explicitly clear. However, I do understand where it comes from because there IS some subtext about it — most notably, Teppei literally talking about grooming her in the VN, and the guy is a creep in general who keeps letting Satoko be around other creepy men, so I don’t think the idea is completely misplaced either (one of the many reasons why Irie irritates me but that’s for another topic). I’m saying all of this because while I don’t think Satoko was sexually abused, the fact she still spent a lot of time during her formative years around a man who at least on some level sexualized her (see, the grooming talk) must have definitely impacted how she sees herself and her body and sexuality especially as she grows up — and so that’s how I write her. Sorry, this is a bit of a heavy topic to bring up in what is a relatively lighthearted story, but I thought this might be relevant to clarify some of the paragraphs I wrote here lol

Notes: Believe it or not, I actually started writing this in 2018, and for some reason was never able to complete it lol. But I got so excited with the announcement of season 7 that I decided it was a good time to finish this, before we get to see those chapters get adapted.

Find out Reiko and Souko’s story still makes me cry even 5 years later, and I can’t wait to bawl about them once they’re animated!

* * *

People were always surprised when Souko told them she didn’t like the color blue.

It wasn’t like she hated it, but she just wasn’t very fond of it.

She liked green, yellow, purple, red — vivacious pigments that felt alive, cheery; hues that a child would love to use to paint one of his drawings.

Blue was just sad.

The watery tint of the deep sea, the cold tint of winter.

Souko loved assigning colors to people. She saw her father as a vibrant red, and her mother — from the little she remembered of her — as a soft purple. Her uncle was golden, her aunt orange, her grandmother green.

So although she didn’t hate it, a part of her always felt disappointed ‘blue’ was the color people associated with her the most — simply because it was what she’d been named after.

Sometimes, Souko thought it was a funny twist of fate, for her to bear the name of a color she only connected to sadness; a warped prediction of what her life would look like after she fell ill.

No one who met her after she got sick would believe it, but she actually used to be a very energetic child. Back then, she could spend the entire day running around and climbing to trees and playing all sorts of games outside with other kids, giving her father a hundred of panic attacks.

All of that crumbled away when her heart started to malfunction two years ago, and suddenly her whole body began to fall apart without her control.

It had been gradual. Slow and excruciating.

She barely noticed the first signs; the shaking in her hands, her frequent headaches, her legs incapable of walking or running for very long. One day on her way to school, she passed out — and just like that, she spent the following year practically unable to get out of bed.

Her life then withered away.

She couldn’t do any of the things she liked anymore, couldn’t go to school anymore, couldn’t see anyone but her family.

She stopped running and playing outside, and she stopped gardening, and she stopped cooking.

She didn’t really had any friends, as the shy girl she’d always been, but she’d still managed to have some decent relationships with some kids at school, at least.

Now she didn’t even had that anymore.

She withered, drowning away in a bottomless cerulean sea, and for a long, long time, nothing seemed to really matter anymore.

During those endless days, there was only two things she could do: read, which she took the habit of doing since then, and stare at her window. Her bedroom was in front of their garden, so she had a direct sight on the many colorful flowers her mother had planted there long ago, and that Souko had continued to take care of since then. But most of the times, it wasn’t the rainbow of flowers she would stare at, but the blue of the sky — getting lost in its infinity, her heart heavy with anguish and anger at her own life.

Dad had told her, once, that the reason why they named her ‘Souko’ was because she’d been born during a day with a completely clear blue sky. No clouds, no shade of gray, no sun; only blue and blue and blue, as far as the eye could see.

But as Souko kept staring at that same sky, the only thing she could think about was how profoundly empty that blue looked.

* * *

With the help of medications and reeducation, she slowly started to get better — but the doctors were unequivocal on the fact that she would never be able to move like she used to.

She had to limit her gestures, her outings, her breathing; she couldn’t run anymore, or barely so. She was getting better, but she still felt like she was imprisoned within her own body; a bird unable to get out of a cage of its own making.

But the worst wasn’t really any of this. It all weighted heavily on her, of course; but she could bear that. She didn’t really have a choice. The burden her illness had taken on her family, however, was another thing entirely.

The Morinaga household was constituted of only Souko and her father since her mother’s death when she was little, but her uncle and aunt lived nearby and were practically part of their home since as long as she could remember. Dad was very close to his brother, and so her uncle was almost like a third parent to Souko, always having been deeply involved in her life.

Thus her illness had repercussions not only on her father, but on her uncle, her aunt and the whole family. Everyone was always so tense whenever they came to see her, obvious tight smiles and stiff shoulders as they looked at her; and through the months she’d heard hundreds of arguments between her father and grandmother, between the two brothers, between most of her relatives, all about the same topics. What to do with her condition, with her treatment’s cost, with everything else.

Even Dad stopped looking at her like he used to, and instead a pained expression spread across his face every time his eyes met hers. She felt more like a poor little wounded animal he pitied than like his daughter.

That was the hardest part. The idea that not only her body was getting torn apart, but her family did as well — and that it was all her fault.

She couldn’t stand it. It made her want to run away.

Find a place far away; cut from all of her problems, where she wouldn’t have to worry about anything, and where she wouldn’t worry anyone.

A place to be all alone.

And then one night after dinner, Dad approached her with an awkward smile and addressed her in a gentle, careful voice:

"The other day the doctor made me an offer... I thought about it and it could be a good opportunity. He said that… to help with your convalescence, we could move to the countryside.”

At first, Souko wasn’t sure what to think of it.

Truthfully, she didn’t want to move.

She knew nothing at all about the small town where her dad wanted to go, and going there would mean losing all of the landmarks she’d known her whole life. It meant leaving their house where she grew up. Uncle and Auntie. Mom’s grave from a few meters away in the cemetery. Her school.

Souko might not have had any friends here, she still didn’t want to lose the relationships she had with the people of her hometown — and she didn’t want to have to make the effort to form new bonds with strangers.

The very idea made her stomach twist with anxiety. But she couldn’t turn Dad down; not when she knew he also probably didn’t want to move either, and that he only proposed that for her sake.

So against all of her better instincts, Souko agreed.

* * *

She couldn’t manage to assign any color to the forest girl.

No matter how hard she tried to, none of the choices — none of the different tints and shades and hues — seemed to fit her.

Or, rather, all of them fitted her.

The girl — her match companion, the teenager she’d met hidden within the deepest parts of the woods, like a rare, delicate diamond — was the most beautiful and fascinating person Souko had ever seen; ephemeral like a ghost, flippant like a cat and fluttering like a butterfly.

Her long silver hair seemed to change color with the sunlight; turning white or golden or purple contingent on the sky’s whims.

Souko blurted that out, once, without thinking much about it beforehand; and then regretted it right away, because of how childish it sounded.

The girl just laughed.

“Purple?” She repeated, and Souko felt herself blush. “Really?”

“B-Because, look… Your hair is so light, so it take on the dusk’s color. And when dusk turns orange, or pink, then your hair also…”

“Is that so.”

The girl looked over at the horizon, which was indeed starting to take on a mauve tint. For a moment, her companion seemed contemplative; then finally, she turned towards her again and grinned.

“Well, what do you think? Is purple my color?”

Souko felt the scarlet of her cheeks deepens even more, but she was able to muster the courage to actually reply truthfully: “I think every color is your color. You look pretty in everything.”

And that was true, too.

Souko could imagine her in red, pink, purple, orange, black and white — and that girl, her mysterious nameless acquaintance of the forest, would be just as wonderful and breathtaking as ever.

She would look beautiful and full of life even in blue.

Souko had never seen a person like that before, so radiant and mesmerizing that her eyes couldn’t stop staring at her, that her mind couldn’t help but think of her almost all the time.

For a very brief moment, the girl looked slightly taken aback; but she quickly seemed to get over it and simply smiled back at her.

The girl was always smiling.

It was a little disconcerting, sometimes — and it wasn’t that Souko didn’t like seeing her smile, but she just wished that smile looked actually genuine.

Once I’ll win, she swore to herself.

Once I’ll win, I’ll make her give me her name. I’ll make her become my friend — and then I’ll be able to make her smile for real.

* * *

“Oh, the candy’s blue.”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah. Like the blue of Souko.”

Her voice resounded in her mind even long after the two of them parted way.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the manner she’d said her name. Softly, fleetingly, lost in the wind, like no one but the girl herself had been supposed to hear it.

The blue of Souko.

Souko had never been fond of her name. She’d never really liked the color blue.

And now, after all she’d been through, the only thing it managed to evoke to her was the emptiness of the sky as she looked through her room’s window stuck in her bed.

That was all the blue of Souko was to her.

But when the girl spoke it… When she said her name so softly, so longingly, Souko couldn’t help but love it.

The girl was a little like a fairy, Souko thought; an otherworldly being who seemed to be able to transform every bad aspects of her life into something magical.

Her name sounded beautiful when she said it. That town in the countryside seemed so fun now that she started spending time with her. Her new home, her tense family, her unfamiliar school and classmates — everything seemed bearable now that she had that girl by her side.

Even the color blue would surely feel warm and vivacious, if her secret companion started wearing some of it.

Before meeting the forest girl, Souko had simply not been able to feel at home anywhere in that town.

It wasn’t like people here weren’t welcoming — at the contrary, everyone was quite nice to her, but Souko still hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that she simply didn’t belong. She’d always been a timid girl, but suddenly moving here while cutting all ties to her old life, added to the months she’d spent completely isolated from the world because of her illness, made her feel like she’d lost all of her social skills. She could barely handle normal conversations with the other kids, or with the townsfolk — always feeling like people were staring at her, judging her, monitoring her every moves. And even when she was alone, she couldn’t stand to be at her house either, in that unfamiliar place.

That was why coming in the middle of that forest, away from any form of life, away from her family and other people, was the only time that had finally made her feel a little comfortable — and that despite the fact this place had a strange ominous aura and sometimes gave her headaches.

And then she met the girl. The time she spent by her side, chatting idly and having silly matches and laughing together about nothing made her the happiest and most free she’d felt in months. Not since she fell ill.

The girl wasn’t always nice; she could be quite prickly and cold, and it wasn’t like Souko didn’t think that girl was... strange. Truthfully, she could be a little unsettling, or even scary sometimes. Occasionnally, she would just say weird things out of nowhere, or stared past Souko’s shoulder as if she was seeing someone behind her, or dragged her away from a place as if she was trying to run from something.

Something Souko couldn’t see.

(And, sometimes, Souko almost had the impression there really was something else with them, and that it wasn’t just the two of them in the middle of these woods.)

But even so, despite all of this, Souko still didn’t think she could, or wanted to, stop seeing the girl.

At least, she treated Souko like a normal person. She never walked on eggshells around her, even after she’d learned she was sick. And even with all her prickliness, Souko could tell that she had a kind heart, buried behind her sharp gaze and barbed comments. She wouldn’t have let Souko stay by her side otherwise.

The girl and those meetings were so odd, so detached from everything in her life — that sometimes Souko almost felt like she was hallucinating them. Like she was doing some forbidden rituals with a witch, and not just playing childish games.

There was only ever the two of them in that forest, after all — no one else here to confirm the real from the surreal.

Her rendez-vous with the forest girl was the most exciting part of her day, and she spent the whole time thinking about what new games they would play next.

Wishing that today would finally be the day she win — would be the day she finally earn her name.

Earn the right to be her friend.

“Are you going out again?”

Her father stopped her just as she was about to leave the house, and Souko startled. “Ah, yes…”

A worried look crossed his face. “Souko… I’m glad you seem to be so happy, lately — really, but… You need to be more careful. Your body is still…”

“I know,” Souko said, maybe a little more forcefully than she intended. Of course she knew her body was still frail. It was her body, after all — she understood the consequences of its weakened state better than anyone. “I’m careful, Dad, I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

But of course, that was probably a meaningless thing to say. Her father would always worry regardless of what she said.

“…Is that a friend that you see like that every day?” He asked. “I know you said you’ve been getting along better with your classmates lately…”

Souko opened her mouth, then hesitated a little.

She still hadn’t said anything to her father about the forest girl. She hadn’t said anything about her to anyone, period.

She wasn’t really sure why.

She’d told Dad about the classmates she’d started to talk to — they weren’t really friends yet, but they were nice, and Souko would like to become closer.

That, too, was thanks to the forest girl, in a way. It wasn’t like she had encouraged to talk to others or anything, but being able to have normal conversations with someone her age after having been isolated for so long had managed to cheer Souko up and make her feel braver.

The girl always looked so strong and confident, after all; solid as a rock, standing tall among the trees. Souko always felt like nothing could ever hurt or reach her.

So she’d thought that if she wanted to be worthy of befriending the forest girl, then she should try to befriend the more approachable kids at her school first.

But her classmates were different from the girl, and so Souko felt that she couldn’t simply tell Dad about her like she would with a normal classmate. Maybe she wanted to become friends with her for real before telling him — or maybe… maybe she just wanted to keep her as a secret. For now.

Something only Souko knew about.

Her father had still noticed the changes, though, and he looked simultaneously happy and worried about them. He’d already been very concerned from the start, when Souko went back to school, and then about the fact he could tell his daughter had clearly struggled to fit in at their new place. And now he clearly wasn’t happy about her escapades after school; didn’t like her going outside to play around in the forest. Souko sympathized with his feelings, knew that he was only worried for her; but it had been the best she’d felt in such a long time, and she wasn’t about to let that go.

Dad said nothing for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at Souko — and only when she noticed his suspicious look did she realizes that she was blushing.

“…Is that person you’re seeing a boy?”

“Wha— N-No! I-It’s not like that… we’re just…”

Her father laughed a little, and waved his hand. “Sorry, that’s none of my business. But you don’t need to be embarrassed about it, you know. It’s normal, at your age.”

“I-It’s really not like that…”

And it’s not a boy.

But Dad didn’t seem he would believe her no matter what she could say, so Souko felt it would be pointless to argue further. Instead, she went to her rendez-vous spot with the forest girl, and as usual they played together, Souko lost, and then they talked for a while. At some point, the girl took her hand and dragged her somewhere else. Her hand was rugged, and her skin sturdy — but it felt warm.

Souko wished she could keep holding her hand forever.

Maybe Dad isn’t entirely wrong, she thought then, looking at the girl’s pretty long hair flowing in the wind, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

If she were a boy, maybe I would fall in love with her.

It would be so easy to fall for her. She was so beautiful and strong and fun. Souko was certain most boys at her school must be crushing on her.

(She’d inadvertently said this, one day, and to her utter surprise the girl bursts out laughing ; so hard she had to hold her stomach, and Souko had never seen her laugh so loudly and for so long before.

“No way!” She’d exclaimed after calming down. “Boys don’t like me, at all.”

“H-Huh?” Souko let out. She didn’t think she would lie about this, but she heavily doubted that was true. Maybe no one ever confessed to her, but there was just no way not a single person had at least some feelings for someone as charming as her.

The girl grinned, her green eyes boring straight into Souko’s. “I scare them. Well, to be honest, I don’t really like boys either.”

Souko didn’t know why, but at these words her cheeks flushed and she felt a small warmth of hope bloom in her chest.)

Late in the evening, when Souko came home, the first thing she did was going out in the garden, just as twilight was starting to set.

The place was still barren. Back at their old home, they used to have a garden with a lot of colorful flowers — hibiscus, daisies, orchids, tulips, marigolds… Her mother’s flowers, that Souko loved to take care of; the first thing she would see upon waking up, a rainbow of delicate, shiny petals. In their new house, a lot of things were different, but Dad had made a point to get her a bedroom where she could see the garden too, just because he knew how much Souko had liked it before.

She finally wanted to start feeling at home here, too. So maybe she could start by planting some flowers. Dad would probably like that as well — he’d loved their flowers too.

One day — after she’ll finally be able to learn the forest girl’s name and become her friend, Souko will invite her to her home and introduce her father to her.

Show her her flower garden.

But in the meantime, the forest girl would stay her little secret — something that was hers and hers only.

* * *

One of Souko’s new favorite things was when she was able to surprise the girl.

She always thought a lot about the types of games she could propose to her — even asked her uncle and dad to give her some new ideas. And every day, it felt like the girl was surprised to still find her here in the forest with a new challenge. Almost like she expected her to suddenly stop coming any time now.

How silly, Souko thought. There’s no way I’ll ever stop coming to see you, even if I wanted to.

But even so, she’d never seen the girl as shocked as when she decided to show up one day with lunch boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She asked in a bewildered tone, her pale green eyes pinned on Souko like a cat’s.

“Lunch.”

“I can see that,” the girl snapped back sharply, but by now Souko was used to her curtness. She could be a little mean sometimes in her way of speaking, but Souko had come to learn it wasn’t necessarily because she was annoyed. “I was asking why you brought this here— and why you brought two of these.”

Souko flushed a little, but still didn’t let go of the girl’s eyes.

“Well, I… I was just thinking, that you often seems hungry when we meet, and also, how you’re very thin, and so— I just thought that maybe you should just eat a little more. There’s meat in there, and…”

The girl narrowed her eyes at her. “Who do you think you are? My mom?”

Souko blushed even further, and looked away. That did seems a little silly and pretentious to bring that girl a lunch out of the blue, when she put it into words like that. But she couldn’t help it, and— truthfully, Souko had started to get quite worried about her.

It was often that the girl’s belly would suddenly start gurgling in the middle of one their matches, and Souko had noticed how she seemed much lighter than a girl her age should be (absolutely not because Souko was staring her at a little too much, of course; that had nothing to do with this). She’d once asked her if she was eating enough — and then the girl had snorted, rolling her eyes. But she hadn’t replied. So Souko thought, that she could…

But maybe it had been rude of her to do. Just as she was about to apologize though, the girl suddenly grabbed her lunch box and chopsticks, and Souko barely had the time to turns her head towards her that she saw her open the box and starts digging in.

“What?” The girl shot back, catching her staring. “You did say it was for me, right?”

Souko smiled, and nodded enthusiastically. “Y-Yes, of course!”

And so she quietly watched her eat away the whole meal with a smile she couldn’t quite manage to hide. She didn’t even left a single crumb — which on the one hand, Souko was happy about, but on the other it definitely had her more concerned, because that seemed to confirm the fact she truly didn’t get enough to eat at her house.

Souko could never brings herself to ask, but she has the distinct feeling that things were… not great at home, for the girl.

To start with, it was strange for a teenager to hang out in a forest so far away like this. The girl always seemed to be all alone, too; and she was spending so much time here… it didn’t seem like she had any other friends. Much like Souko. But much more worrisome was the fact that she was often hurt. Souko frequently caught glimpse of scratches, bandages, and bruises covering her body. Some of them might be because of her playing around in the woods — and Souko had absolutely seen her doing a lot of reckless things that would get her injured — but…

Others must have been made by someone, Souko was pretty sure.

She tried to ask her a couple of times about her family, but the girl always brushed her asides and changed the topic when she did. Even Souko talked to her sometimes about her father and her uncle and her family, but the girl would never say anything back about herself. She clearly didn’t want to talk about her life at home. So Souko respected that — even if she didn’t like it.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusion about things she couldn’t possibly know either, but… she still worried.

“H-How was it?” Souko decided to ask, trying to stop thinking about such morose things.

“Hm? Oh, good. It was really good.”

Souko beamed. “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Hehe, that’s true. Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.”

The girl actually stared at her and lifted an eyebrow at her words. “‘Thank you”?”

“Ah… I’m the one who made that.”

She had woken up earlier this morning specifically to prepare it, following her mother’s old recipe. Dad had been so surprised to see her in the kitchen — it had been the first time she cooked anything since she got sick. Until now, he’d been the one taking care of most of the cooking — or sometimes it was her aunt, when she was home.

Souko had forgotten how much fun cooking actually was.

She used to do it quite frequently back then, but then stopped after she got sick, just like most of her hobbies — and even now that she was recovering, she hadn't gone back to them. Even though now she could easily try them again without endangering her health. Gardening was the same, too. She wondered if she’d have as much fun gardening, if she did it again now.

It’d be nice if I could do those things with her, too, she had thought this morning while cutting off vegetables. The only things she did with the girl was playing games and talking, but she was sure they’d have fun doing other type of activities together as well. I wonder if she loves cooking and gardening…

The idea made her so happy that she had decided to creates the prettiest lunch box for the girl — as colorful as her old flower garden used to be — putting shades of red and green and pink all over, carving orange carrots in little flowers, putting the yellow egg yolk in the form of a sunflower.

Each color so vivid and lovely, each of them suiting the forest girl.

The memories of this morning made Souko smile, and she was only brought back to the present moment thanks to a strong wind blowing through her short dark hair. She turned her head towards the girl, about to apologize for her absentmindedness, but then stopped.

To her surprise, the girl actually seemed really taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. Was she truly that shocked by the fact Souko could cook?

(Or was it because she’d cooked for her, specifically?)

“O-Oh,” the girl stuttered — and for a bewildering, fascinating moment, Souko saw her cheeks reddens slightly.

Is she… blushing?

The moment disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Souko almost thought she’d made it up, a conjured illusion of her mind. But the scarlet on her otherwise white cheeks, and her embarrassed expression, was engraved inside Souko's heart, and she couldn’t help the wide grin that then spreads on her lips.

Of course, scarlet was just as pretty as any other colors on the girl’s face.

She looked just like a flower herself, in all her silver and green and white and red.

Souko wished she was brave enough to kiss her just then.

Instead, she quietly promised to do everything in her power to see that expression on her face once again.

* * *

She couldn’t even remember how she managed to get home, that evening.

Her head wouldn’t stop pounding, so much that she was unable to think. Her body was so heavy that every step felt like torture. Her heart seemed like a dead weight inside her chest; a burden pulling her down and down.

She felt just like that day she’d collapsed for the first time, two years ago; the day that marked the start of the end of her normal life. The only lucid thing she could register was her voice, echoing inside her skull again and again and again.

“Reiko. My name is Reiko Natsume.”

“Go away.”

“You look pale. It’s starting to rain, so you should go home.”

“You should go home.”

Souko knew she should never have gone home the moment she turned around. She knew she should have stayed; that she should have kept talking to her — her forest girl, her ghost of an acquaintance; the lovely, strange, colorful person she fell in love with.

But her voice had been so cold, when she told her to go away.

Her eyes were blank and sharp at the same time, so different from the way she usually looked at her, and Souko couldn’t stand to see that.

And she just hadn’t… she had never even expected that she could be…

It made sense, if she really thought about it; what other teenage girl would spend all her time alone in the forest, but the rumored weird delinquent from the neighboring town?

But Souko had never thought of her like that until now; both seemed so unrelated in her mind, and she felt so shocked she hadn’t been able to properly process it.

And now her duel partner had already vanished, like a mirage of the woods, like she’d never existed at all.

Souko had taken her name, and then nothing of the girl was left.

Now she was all alone in the rain, and the blue of the sky had faded away, replaced with nothing but a foggy, looming gray.

Souko’s steps vacillated, and her head still hammering, she fell on the ground.

She’d finally won, after training for so long — she finally knew her name — and yet she still wasn’t… still couldn’t be her friend.

She needed to go back, she needed to apologize, she needed to talk to her—

But the sound of the rain and the coldness of Reiko Natsume’s voice were the only thing she could hear before her consciousness slipped away.

* * *

The following days were spent in a blur.

Souko barely even registered her father’s voice or her uncle’s hands or the doctor’s visits. She felt like she was in another dimension, far away from this house, this town, this country.

She felt like she was still stuck in that forest, alone with Reiko, the rest of the world non-existent.

In her dreams, Reiko was here, by her side; pretty in all colors of the rainbow, and she smiled, and laughed, and talked. They played games together, they cooked, they gardened.

In her dreams, Souko apologized. She told her she hadn’t meant to leave, she told her she didn’t care about the rumors about her. She told her that to Souko, she wasn’t a violent scary girl, but a fun, and beautiful, and kind person.

She told her she loved her.

In her dreams, Souko was brave enough to finally kiss her.

But then she opened her eyes, and she was all alone in her bed, and there was only the blue of the sky from her bedroom’s window.

One night, she had a different dream, though.

She felt like she heard someone crying, and then Reiko was there, blue petals falling over her hair and uniform.

As she woke up, Souko couldn’t remember what the dream had been about.

* * *

It took her three whole days before she was able to stand again.

Dad and Uncle were relieved, but Souko couldn’t share any of their enthusiasm. She still felt sick, but insisted nevertheless to go back to school. She couldn’t really bring herself to talk to anyone there though, even as her classmates fussed about her health; her mind focused on only one single person — and as soon as the day ended, she ran towards the forest, towards their usual rendez-vous spot.

(She knew she shouldn’t run, she was still coughing, she still felt so weak — but she couldn’t help it.

She had to see Reiko again, as quickly as possible.)

“Reiko?” She exclaimed upon arriving, but there was no one else.

There's no one yet, Souko reminded herself, trying to stay positive. I’m still early. She could come later.

“Reiko!”

She repeated her name for a while — and couldn’t help but think that if only the circumstances were different, she would feel so proud over it.

To have finally been able to learn her name, to be able to call it out like that.

But that didn’t matter much if no one was there to respond to it. To call Souko back.

I don’t even know how it’s written, she thought.

She tried to think of all the combinations of characters to write ‘Reiko’ that could fit her the most, but just like with colors, she couldn’t decide upon a single one. All of them could suit her.

She would have to ask her about it, next time she saw her.

At least she felt pretty certain on how to spell ‘Natsume.’

All-seeing eyes of the summer, the season of ghosts and spirits.

Souko sat at their usual place.

She waited.

She kept staring left and right, attentive to every sound; trying to catch the slightest glimpse of a silver thread.

But by the time dusk came, there was still no one.

She was still all alone.

* * *

Souko stopped talking to her classmates.

A few days after her last encounter with Reiko, she’d asked the girl from her class who’d first told her about the violent high schooler from next town if she knew anything else — but she’d ended up getting into an argument with her. Her classmates had always been very nice up until now, but as soon as she started asking about Reiko Natsume, they completely changed tune and started spewing all those terrible things about her — that she was a violent delinquent, that she was crazy, that she hurt people.

Souko couldn’t help but defend her. Her classmates had never even met Reiko — what did they know about her? But everyone refused to listen to her. They almost all had a specific creepy or terrible anecdote about Reiko Natsume; she hit my cousin, she talked to trees, she burned down a shop — I tell you, that Natsume girl is bad news! C’mon, Morinaga, why do you even want to associate with someone like that? — and so Souko stopped talking to them.

She didn’t mind. She had no intention to keep hanging around such judgmental people who spoke badly of someone purely because of some rumors they’d heard.

She herself felt so ashamed, to have simply believed those hearsay and repeated them thoughtlessly. She had believed she was doing the right thing by warning Reiko about a potentially dangerous person, because she cared about her and didn’t want anything to happen to her — but she couldn’t even imagine how Reiko must have felt hearing this. How badly Souko must have hurt her. And then, when she’d learned her name, Souko had just run away…

She wouldn’t be surprised if Reiko never wanted to see her again.

But even so, she couldn’t just leave things like that. She had to apologize, at least — she had to tell her that she… she didn’t think any of that, about her.

So she tried to ask around about Reiko, tried to find out if anyone knew where she could live, what school she went to — but whenever she did, she only received vague, uncertain answers. Reiko Natsume was a weird orphan who kept being passed around among families like an unwanted stray, so it was hard to keep track of where she was.

Nobody wanted her, and nobody tried to know anything about her.

She's just a poor crazy girl, was the kindest thing one could hear on her behalf.

The more Souko learned about Reiko Natsume, the less it made sense.

This weird, insane, violent girl was nothing at all like the girl she’d gotten to know. Her Reiko could be a little cold, and a little too blunt, but she was nice, and fun, and amazing. It was like two entirely different people sharing the same name. Souko couldn’t even begin to comprehend how anyone would say such awful things about her.

In the end, she wasn’t able to find anything more about her, and so she had no other choice but to go back to the forest, and wait. Which she did, day after day, even against her family’s protests, even when it rained, even when her health kept deteriorating.

She continued waiting alone.

But sometimes, just sometimes, she felt like she could feel another presence.

Like a ghost sitting by her side, waiting with her, sharing in her lost love and her sadness.

Souko thought back to the legends she’d heard about the forest from her classmates; the strange things Reiko would do sometimes — the stares behind her shoulder, dragging her away forcefully just because a branch had snapped, the way she’d gotten startled during their last match, as if she had been distracted by something…

Maybe Souko wasn’t so alone, after all.

Maybe there truly was someone else by her side, someone she couldn’t see.

Maybe if Reiko had seemed so radiant and vibrant, that was because she actually was able to see another world: a world full of new colors, invisible to others.

Souko found comfort at the idea; that she truly had a companion to share her feelings — her pain — with, even if only a little.

* * *

It was during a day with a completely clear blue sky when she had that dream again.

Souko had stopped being able to go to school a while ago, and thus at the same time she stopped being able to go to the forest as well — the first one she didn’t care about anymore, but the second was more troubling.

She didn’t really think Reiko would come back by now — but she still kept coming there, just in case, like a last prayer.

She wondered if her companion she couldn’t see would feel lonely now that she wouldn’t be there anymore. She wondered if they would miss her.

Where could Reiko be now? Was she still sleeping in a forest, talking to creatures only she could sees?

Was she still all alone?

Souko wished wherever she was, it was far, far away from all those people who spoke and treated her so badly. She wished she was able to find a friend, someone who would love her for the person she truly was and would stand by her side no matter what — even if that person couldn’t be Souko.

Her father was in the living room now, sleeping. He had spent the whole night crying, no matter how much Souko had tried to comfort him.

She wished she could find the right words for him — tell him that she was fine, that her life had still been full of wonders and happiness despite all the suffering, that he’d been a wonderful father — but they both knew there was nothing she could do that would soothe his pain. She wished she could apologize to him, for leaving him all alone just like Mom did, but she didn’t even have the energy to do so anymore. The rest of the family — her uncle and aunt and grandmother — should arrive tonight, and Souko hoped they’ll be able to do a better job than her at comforting him.

She looked up from her bed, at the window in front of her.

The large sky spread wide before her, and it was so deep and blue, and Souko wondered if this was how it looked the day she was born — the day her parents decided to name her after the saddest of all colors.

Although Souko had stopped finding blue as sad as she used to. Now when she thought of blue, she thought of the way Reiko used to say her name so gently, of the blue candy in her palm, of the blue flowers she saw in a dream that she couldn’t remember.

The blue of Souko.

From here, she could also see the barren garden — in the end, she hadn’t been able to plant anything there. She closed her eyes, slowly, and tried to picture the colorful flowers she would’ve liked to put there, the ones she wished she could’ve shown to Reiko.

As her mind drifted away, she heard someone crying.

A gentle voice, from a gentle presence.

Souko smiled, because she knew that presence; it was the same person — the same creature — that had kept her company all this time, while she was waiting for a girl she loved that would never come.

Like with her father, she wished she could comfort them, but nothing came to her mind.

However, as she kept straying farther and farther away from reality, a sight suddenly opened up to her eyes.

She’s in a meadow.

A flower field with blue, blue, blue petals everywhere — fluttering, dancing, as far as the eye can see.

And here, in the middle of the blue flowers, all alone, is her forest girl.

Tears wells up in Souko’s eyes, but she smiles, big and wide — and do the one thing she wishes she could’ve done months ago: she calls out her name.

“Reiko.”

The girl she loves turns around, and as her green eyes melt upon recognition, she has the most beautiful and genuine smile Souko has ever seen.

All the colors of the sky, of the forest and of the meadow gets reflected in her long silver hair, and blue has never looked so joyful.

* * *

Note: The first time I read those chapters, I didn’t even realize that Soranome implied Souko died at the end until someone pointed it out, and I can’t stop thinking about how terribly sad it is. I suppose one could argue maybe Souko just moved at the end and that’s why she stopped coming, but it doesn’t seem likely with the way Soranome phrased it. At least with Reiko, there’s a chance she was loved and happy for a while with the grandfather and then with her daughter afterwards, even if she still ended up losing them at the end. But Souko never got that chance. I only take comfort with the idea she had a loving family who took care of her. (And yes, if anyone’s wondering, I decided she was raised by a single father as a parallel to Tanuma.) But it’s also terrible there seems to be some implications that if Reiko had stayed then Souko wouldn’t have died, given it seemed to be the youkai of the forest that amplified her illness (much like how Tanuma has gotten healthier since meeting Natsume).

I went back and forth about the idea of Souko cutting ties with her classmates in the aftermath of her losing Reiko, because that also felt a little mean to her, but I honestly think she wouldn’t have tolerated anyone speaking badly of Reiko and would feel guilty for listening to the rumors.

Notes: Happy 20th year anniversary, Higurashi!

So that future fic was meant to be published this summer to celebrate the anniversary, but I obviously got very late so you only get it now, but I think it’s still valid if I’m able to publish this before the end of 2022 :) (What do you mean it’s not 2022 anymore nope I’m not listening hahaha—)

So, a few clarifications: I originally didn’t want to confirm or mention any ships here because I wanted it to be primarily focused on the platonic relationships. However, I then decided I wanted to include child characters — that’d only makes sense given they’re all in their thirties by now, and that becoming a parent is one of the most obvious biggest change of adulthood — so as a result, well, there are still some pretty big hints about who’s dating who here, even if I tried to stay as vague and gen as possible, so you can still make your own assumptions. Those child characters are also kind of based on the ones from the Higurashi Reiwa manga, but as you’ll notice quickly the two who are present are still very different from the ones depicted in canon, because they’re more interesting that way to me.

Also, Natsumi makes a cameo in this, even if I absolutely admit that she serves zero purpose in that fic lol. She’s just here cause I think she’s really the representative of the Higurashi side-arcs and because she’s cute so yeah.

Anyway, this takes place post-Matsuribayashi (and… post-Saikoroshi too, I suppose). I didn’t really take Gou/Sotsu/Meguri into consideration while writing this so it’s not referenced at all, but you’re welcome to interpret it happened as well if you want to!

______________________________________________________________

  That's because

  I’m going to become much, much more happy from now on.

  I’m not going to compromise with just this.

  We are going to take back all of our happiness that we lost.

  For me, that is about a hundred year’s worth.

  For you, a thousand year’s worth.

  -Frederica Bernkastel

______________________________________________________________

Early summer of the 15th year of the Heisei era

______________________________________________________________

She felt like someone was apologizing continuously.

A repeating, pitiful noise resonating in her ears — an ominous familiarity making her heart ache with nostalgia.

This was like an obtuse, unwelcome breeze from the past, a repeated sorry she should’ve stopped hearing years and years ago.

It still pop up in her head, however, from time to time; when she is not careful enough, when her mind drift away in her dreams or thoughts.

A feeling of overwhelming sadness and loneliness crushed her, then; as it always did whenever she heard that same soft, sweet voice that had accompanied her since birth and even before then.

Her name was on the tip of her lips, and she would’ve spoken it if it had not been for a sudden shake that brusquely brought her back to reality.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing that welcomed her was the coldness of the window her head was leaned against.

“—five minutes. We will be arriving at Okinomiya Station. Please, makes sure to not forget any—”

She blinked a few times — chasing away the wetness that had pooled and clung to her eyelashes — then heard the faint sound of something rolling and falling on the ground. Looking down, she realized it was a pen; the one she’d been holding before she fell asleep, using it to write down in what was a small notebook. Her travel poem book, the one she brought along everywhere.

She gracefully put back some blue locks behind her ear — now short, barely sweeping her nape and shoulders, since that day she decided to cut it off twenty years ago — and scooped the pen back. When she straightened up, the white page of the notebook in front of her seemed to be burying straight into her eyes. She’d been trying to find the inspiration for what to note in there for a long time, but nothing seemed to come up. Her mind was completely dry.

She sighed, then closed off the book before putting it back into her handbag.

She didn’t have the time to write anymore, anyway.

Soon, she’d be back home — back to Hinamizawa.

By the time the train came to a stop, the nostalgic, apologetic voice in her head had entirely disappeared.

______________________________________________________________

As she stepped outside the train on the platform, she instantly put down her big luggage next to her, readjusted her pretty, big hat on her head, and stretched her arms. She felt like her whole body was cramped, as if she’d just run a marathon. Well, she did spent five hours in a train, but even so, that was something she should be used to by now. Another sigh escaped her, which was then met by a giggle from her left.

“Wow, that was a pretty big sigh. Rough trip, big sis Rika?”

Rika turned her head in surprise, and a few meters away was standing a young woman in casual slacks and blouse; short brown hair, mid-twenties, round face. The same charming smile as her father, and the same gentle amethyst eyes as her mother. When she caught her gaze, the woman waved at her, and Rika returned her smile.

“Hello, Miyuki.”

“Hi! Is that all of your luggages?”

“It is,” Rika confirmed, then stepped forward and hugged Miyuki tightly.

It had been more than a year now since she’d last seen her in person; almost two, even. Of course, they called each other from time to time, and Rika made sure to send her postal cards from wherever she was at the time, but it certainly wasn’t the same thing. She’d considered Miyuki like a little sister since that infamous Watanagashi twenty years ago and they used to meet pretty regularly until Rika went to high school, so sometimes the distance was hard to bear.

Once she let the younger woman go, her gaze wandered around, searching for further silhouettes besides Miyuki. “Um…”

“Oh, I’m sorry to tell you but I’m alone. Big sis Satoko and the others wanted to come, but they’re pretty busy with the festival preps, and Dad suddenly got a call from work which he couldn’t ignore, so…”

Rika could see Miyuki roll her eyes at that, which communicated perfectly what she thought about her father’s attitude when it came to prioritizing his work over anything else. Something she’d inherited from Yukie, no doubt. Rika smiled wryly.

“It’s okay. I’m glad to see Akasaka is still up there saving the world.”

“Oh, that he is! Mom can’t wait for him to retire. Which, unfortunately for her, he probably never will. I’m sure even beyond the grave he’ll find a way to get his job done, somehow.”

Rika laughed, and Miyuki quickly joined her as she took her luggage and they started to leave the train station. It had been quite a few years now since Akasaka had left his job as a policeman and instead started a career as a politician in Tokyo, where he thought he could do the most good. It seemed that this job was taking even more of his time than the former one, however, so Rika could not tell if it was much of an improvement for his family.

Miyuki’s car was still the same as Rika remembered; a small blue Jeep that had been a combined present from her father, Ooishi and a few others friends for when she graduated college four years ago. Truthfully, Rika thought it was kind of an ugly one and genuinely thought they could’ve done better, but Miyuki was really attached to it and she didn’t think she’d be willing to change it unless she had no other choice.

They climbed in and started chatting contentedly, quickly catching up with each other; Rika told her all about her last travel in the Netherlands, while Miyuki told her the last news at her job — and because they were both working in the same sector as journalists, they always had a lot to share (though Miyuki kept complaining about how annoying one of the guys there was— what was his name again? Ryuunosuke Arakawa or something?), before Miyuki finally kept on about how life was going with her boyfriend back in Tokyo. They’d been dating for two years now and it seemed quite serious as they’d just moved in together a few months ago, although Rika had only met him twice so she didn’t have much opinion on him. He’d gotten Akasaka’s approval though, so she supposed he must be decent guy at least.

When the conversation deviated towards the village and the festival preparations, Rika could already see the familiar landscape change as well as hear the gravel noise under the car’s wheels that marked the end of Okinomiya’s vicinity and the start of the mountains’ road.

“—and god, I also got to see little Kihiro for the first time!” Miyuki exclaimed. “Can’t believe how adorable she is.”

Rika grinned at her. “Right. You hadn’t met her yet, huh?”

“You know I haven’t been able to come last winter… But big sis Rena let me babysit her for a whole day and night last week when we first came! I’d never seen a baby so calm until now.”

Rika chuckled, but she nodded in agreement nonetheless. Of course, according to the parents, it wasn’t always the case, but when she’d come back to Hinamizawa last year for the birth, she’d definitely thought there was not a single soul who would argue on the point that Kihiro was an extremely quiet and well-behaved newborn. Rika hated babies and small children — not even Shion and Satoshi’s daughter had been an exception — but this one she actually could tolerate. Mostly.

Rena’s daughter was now already six months old. Baby Kihiro actually ended up being born later than the due date, almost two weeks later (which had worried everyone, especially Rika who hadn’t meant to stay so long), and Rika had never seen Keiichi in such a stressful state before, but in the end the child had come into this world without any complications. The poor man had probably cried a lot more than he had in his entire life the moment he held the tiny, blotchy girl in his arms.

Rika was surprised to find herself in a hurry to see that baby again, curious to how much she must’ve changed since then. Of course Rena would send pictures pretty frequently, but it wasn’t the same thing.

She was in a hurry to see everyone again.

“That’s right, how long do you intend to stay this time?” Miyuki asked, glancing at her from the corner of her eyes while holding the wheel tightly. She knew the road almost by heart by now, but she’d always been a very diligent driver, as you might expect from the daughter of an ex-policeman.

“Not long,” Rika admitted with some sadness. “Just long enough to be able to do the traditional dance, as usual. Oh and I’ll stay for Satoko’s birthday as well, of course.”

Miyuki hummed pensively, nodding briefly without leaving her gaze from the path ahead.

“You never stay long around Watanagashi’s period, huh. Sometimes it almost feel like you’re running away.”

She’d said it in a joking manner, but Rika’s shoulders tensed up instinctively, as if it was an accusation.

It was true. There was some periods where she would stay one or two months at the village, more rarely maybe even three or four, but never in June.

During the summer, she’d just assured herself to not miss Watanagashi, but stayed for only a week or two at most before quickly taking off again.

She wasn’t running away. It was just a habit she’d taken. There was no deeper meaning to this, really.

As she tried to pry those thoughts away from her mind, the scenery caught her gaze again, and she looked through the window.

Her childhood village was starting to draw itself far away, slowly coming into shapes in front of her eyes.

Her beloved hometown, the one that had been her prison for a hundred years.

They were still not there yet. They’ll have to be riding the car in the mountains for a while again.

And as they went through the deep forest…

She’d finally arrived here at their home, Hinamizawa.

______________________________________________________________

To Rika’s surprise, Miyuki parked her car right in front of the school’s grounds.

This was unusual. Ever since the past two decades, the Akasaka family had always housed in the Furude main residence, the one Rika had left ever since her parents died. This had been at Rika’s insistence, of course, disliking the idea of them sleeping at a hotel; and ever since it had basically became like the Akasakas’ secondary home. They didn’t live in the village, but Akasaka himself loved Hinamizawa and visited as often as he could with his family, even when Rika wasn’t here.

Rika loved this. She hadn’t been able to set foot inside her old house ever since her parents’ passing, but now it felt like the Akasakas had given it a new life, and she’d even taken pleasure in visiting it again whenever they were here.

So, usually, Miyuki would’ve parked her car around the house or the temple, certainly not at the school.

The young woman probably guessed her question, as she smirked at her while her eyes sparkled mischievously, and Rika frowned. Whenever Miyuki would do that ever since she was a child, it usually meant she was about to prank her. Thankfully it didn’t seem it was the case right now.

“Apparently Watanagashi is going to be particularly crowded this year,” Miyuki explained instead, her voice sounding amused. “So we decided to park our cars away from the temple to not hinder the place. Also… there are some people who wanted to see you here.”

Rika arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t get to ask anything as Miyuki then quickly unplugged her belt and jumped out of the car. Rika shook her head, sighed briefly and then imitated her.

Outside, she set her two heels on the ground, herbs gently brushing the naked skin not covered by her sandals, as if Hinamizawa’s earth was welcoming her back — but she didn’t get the time to feel nostalgic about the familiar scenery of her former school that suddenly she heard a gasp from behind her, and felt something grabbing her.

A pair of sturdy but soft arms had wrapped around her, hugging her tightly with so much love and strength that it felt almost suffocating.

“Rika! Rika, it’s you, you’re back! Hauu, you’re even cuter than last time! Even cuter! I wanna take you home!”

Her attacker was talking very quickly and excitedly, so much that anyone less familiar with her would’ve struggled to make out her words, but Rika knew her so well that she’d guessed what she would say before the sounds even left her lips.

She mildly fought to get out of the grasp, knowing prefectly that of course no one could ever get out of Rena Ryuuguu’s embrace unless she wanted it.

“Big sis Rena, I think you’re going to kill her if you keep doing this,” Miyuki, her saviour, finally intervened, and this seemed to snap Rena back to reality, as her grip ultimately released.

Rika let out a sigh, before trying to rearrange her hair, hat and dress back as it used to be.

“I’m sorry, Rika! But you’re just so kyute, I can’t help it…”

There was something a little offensive at being called ‘cute’ at the age of thirty-one years old — Rika could accept ‘beautiful’ and ‘pretty’ and ‘elegant,’ but ‘cute’ just seemed to bring her back to her eleven-years-old self, and she’d spent way too many years stuck as a child for that already, thank you very much — so she couldn’t help but puff her cheeks in a pout at this (which, she was sure, didn’t help her case on not wanting to not be called that, but that was stronger than her). However, she was just too happy to be able to see Rena again that she certainly didn’t feel like pointing any of that out.

“I’m glad to see you again, Rena,” she said, beaming at her. “You look good.”

At this, Rena’s eyes shined, and she giggled. “I do? I feel pretty tired, personally. Can’t be helped with a baby at home, I suppose.”

Upon looking closer, she did look tired. Her skin looked a little pale, her orange hair, that now fell on her shoulder, were slightly dishevelled, and some brief dark circles could be seen under her big blue eyes. But her entire being seemed to shine so much that it seemed very minimal compared to this.

“You do,” Rika said. “You look beautiful.”

And because it had been six whole months since she’d last seen her friend, she reached for her again, putting her chin on her shoulder, letting the citrus scent of her hair tickles her nostrils and wrapping her hands around her back.

Rena’s warmth was always a constant; it had been then, it was now, and Rika had no doubt that it would be in the future as well.

“Hey, hey, hey— what’d I just say, huh?! No running! No running when you’re still on school grounds!”

A shrill, masculine voice pierced the school yard; and instantly after children’s screams and laughters resonated throughout the place. Kids ranging from six to twelve years old in appearances rushed out from the building and started peppering the surrounding; some Rika recognized, like Mrs. Harada’s granddaugther or Tomita’s son or Takashima’s nephews; other were some new faces, that she guessed probably belonged to residents who recently moved in that she hadn’t gotten to meet yet.

A while ago, Hinamizawa had faced some depopulation issues, but thanks to the combined effort of the three families, Keiichi’s connections, and of course of all the villagers, they’d managed to bring in new residents even as younger generations were generally more interested in the city. It didn’t mean they were still not facing some problems about it, but at least as of now the population was stable, and with every Watanagashi seemed to grow even bigger and bigger.

“Hey! What did I just say?! You brats really only listen what you want!” The voice started again, and then the silhouette of a man surfaced out the school building, trying to calm down the group of excited children around.

Some of them stopped and looked at him apologetically, but most were perfectly fine completely ignoring him and the poor guy couldn’t rein them in as he wanted because his arms were actually full — tucked against his neck and resting on his right arm was the tiny body of a months-old baby, whose only distinguishing feature from afar was a tuft of auburn hair.

“S-Sorry, Mr. Maebara…”

“It’s not me! Suzu’s the one who screamed!”

“I didn’t, I didn’t! It was—”

“Ah! Look over there! It’s Lady Rika!”

One little girl that Rika recognized as the daughter of the village’s main grocery shopkeeper pointed a finger in her direction, and as soon as she did everyone’s looks turned towards her. By reflex, Rika smiled back, feeling instantly in her element; years of being Hinamizawa’s little queen had used her to this, and some of the kids squealed in response. Each started gasping at her presence and whispering excitedly — ‘You’re right! It’s Lady Rika!’ ‘Mom said she’d come back only in a few days!’ ‘Do you think she’d gave me a blessing if I asked her?’ — however, their enthusiasm at her presence was nothing when it came to Keiichi’s, whose face instantly beamed like the sun as soon as he saw her.

As if the children around him had completely vanished, he rushed towards Rika as fast as he could. She barely had the time to register what was happening that she heard Rena gasp and Miyuki let out a ‘oh boy’ before Keiichi’s face was right here, clearly ready to jump on her while the baby in his arms was throwing panicked and confused looks left and right.

“Keiichi!” Rena hissed like an angry cat, her voice vacillating between concerned and offended. “Kihiro! Be careful with Kihiro!”

“Wha— ahh, ah, right!”

As soon as he realized what he had done, Keiichi adjusted his grip on the child while the poor thing looked to be about to burst in tears. Rena grumbled something frustratedly, and Rika could see she was trying her best to not actively strangle him right here and now.

“C’mon— it’s fine, Rena! I wasn’t gonna let her fall, I’m not that irresponsible!”

“Then maybe don’t make it look like that next time!”

“I just wasn’t expecting to— y’know,” he turned his gaze to Rika, “—I thought you’d come later?”

Rika smiled again. “Guess my train was early, and so was Miyuki.”

“Ooh. Cool.” For a moment Keiichi appeared pensive, and then his usual, smug homey grin split his face. “Hug?”

He opened his free left arm, still making sure to tightly hold Kihiro with the other under Rena’s threatening gaze, and then Rika chuckled and instantly fell into his arms, letting herself melt in his embrace. He hugged her a little too roughly, like he always did, but it was in a manner that felt safe and warm and she would never have it any other way, trying to return it with almost as much strength.

When she stepped away, she noticed two wide, big purple eyes blinked back at hers from Keiichi’s arms. The child’s round face was looking at her questionably, as if asking who was this stranger trying to take her father away from her.

“C’mon, Kihiro,” Rena said gently. “It’s big sis Rika. You’ve met her six months ago, remember?”

“‘Course she wouldn’t remember, her lil’ head’s still too small for that,” Keiichi replied playfully while tapping the top of the baby’s skull, as if making a point.

And he wasn’t wrong, Rika supposed. She hadn’t even spent a lot of time with the newborn back in December, and left four days after the birth, so that only made sense. She took a step forward and leaned towards the little girl.

“Hello. I’m big sis Rika. Nice to meet you again, Kihiro.”

The small thing seemed to analyse her words slowly, and then let out some little chirping noise. Keiichi grinned again, then extended his arms with the child in them towards Rika. Her smile dropped from her face immediately and she frowned.

“No,” she said, firmly.

“C’mon, look at her,” the man argued, pressing the little baby almost to her face. “Isn’t she absolutely so kyute? She’s your niece too, Aunt Rika, so you get to hold her once in a while!”

“You know that I hate— Ah, Keiichi!”

Her friend didn’t let her finish her sentence that he pushed his daughter into her arms, and Rika struggled to quickly grab the girl awkwardly — she hated holding babies, but she wasn’t an absolutely monster who’d let her fall on the ground either. (Even if it was tempting and that Keiichi would totally deserve it if she did.)

“Damn it, I swear—” She started, but then she caught Rena’s disapproving gaze at her use of language and quickly bit her tongue, giving up and trying to hold the tiny child as best as she could. They hadn’t done this to her since Shion’s daughter had been a baby years ago.

“You need to be more careful with the head, Rika,” Rena then said gently as she fixed Rika’s hold on her daughter. “See, just like that! Haauu, you two are so kyute like that! Miyuki, Miyuki, do you have your phone? Take a photo!”

“Oh… right, right, just a minute!”

“Wh— No, don’t! Hey! Ugh…”

Rika sighed as Miyuki whipped out her phone and Keiichi and Rena laughed with their whole chests. Kihiro, meanwhile, appeared a little upset at leaving her dad’s side, but ultimately quickly made herself comfortable on Rika’s chest. Damn all of them.

She’d always found babies and young children annoying. They were too noisy, too energetic, didn’t make sense; Rika never knew how to interact properly with them and honestly preferred avoiding them as much as possible. She could make exceptions for her nieces, sure , but it generally extended to smiling at them and giving them presents  sometimes ; she’d never be caught alive willingly playing with them or hugging them. Unfortunately, it seemed the rest of the club members had not taken the memo and instead were having a lot of fun at her expense by often putting her into situations where she got stuck with the kids.

“That’s cool you got here early, but sadly I still have some stuff I need to wrap up at the school,” Keiichi said after his laughters calmed down. “Ms. Chie’s really counting on me for this. And afterwards I still have work to do at the temple for the festival preps.”

“I only came here with Kihiro to bring him some stuff,” Rena explained. “I was going to go at the temple afterwards to help out. Mii and Shii are still there talking about this year’s Watanagashi’s organization.”

“I bet they are. I’m surprised you were able to not go, Keiichi. Trying to skip some of your mayor duties, hmm?”

Rika smirked at him teasingly, and Keiichi winced.

“C’mon, gimme a break! Mion was already mad at me for not coming, but I’m a teacher too, so I can’t be everywhere at all times!”

She laughed, while Keiichi grumpily murmured under his breath about how hard it was to be so popular.

“What about you, Rika? Wanna come with me? Wanna come?” Rena then questioned.

Rika readjusted the baby in her arms, then shook her head.

“I need to drop off my luggages at home first… Is anyone there currently?”

“I know Big sis Satoko had to go there at some point, so she should be here by now already,” Miyuki replied.

Satoko’s name instinctively put a smile on Rika’s face. It was close to noon, so she imagined she must be cooking by now.

It had been a long time since she’d last tasted Satoko’s cooking.

“Then I’ll go home now. I’ll probably come at the temple to see Mii and Shii after that.”

“It’d be great!” Rena exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Oh, right! Rika, we’d planned to all go eat dinner at the Maebaras’ place tonight! To celebrate being all together again.”

“…That sounds nice. But won’t it bother Aiko and Ichirou?”

“Nope! Mom told me they’ll go out to eat at a restaurant in Okinomiya, so we have the house all to ourselves,” Keiichi added, then grinned at everyone as if to confirm all of them were in, at which he was greeted by an enthusiastic nod.

“Maebara! Are you there?” A woman’s voice resonated from inside the school. “I need you right now!”

“Ah… Coming right away, Ms. Chie!” Keiichi yelled back. “Sorry guys, duty’s callin’. See ya later, yeah?”

Rika acquiesced, and she was she was about to add something when a woman suddenly got out of the school’s building. She seemed to stop in surprise at seeing their little group, before quickly snapping back to reality and rejoining them.

“My, Miss Furude! That’s nice to see you.”

“Her train got here earlier than planned!” Rena explained helpfully.

“Oh, I see…”

Chie then smiled with fondness at Rika; that kind of expression that she only reserved to her old students. Rumiko Chie had practically not changed at all; she barely had a wrinkle, her short blue hair was still the exact same, and even her clothes kept being very similar to what she’d always worn. It was like she was frozen in time, and the only big difference in her status was that since Kaieda had retired she’d became the new director of the school, although unlike him she still teaches some classes here and there. And, according to Keiichi who now worked under her, she was a surprisingly strict boss.

Although Rika was never able to get used to it. To her, Ms. Chie would always be Ms. Chie, Hinamizawa’s primary school teacher.

“I’m very sorry to bother you when you’re with your friends, Maebara, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Ms. Chie. Work’s work.” Keiichi leaned towards Rika, ruffled her hair and then kissed his daughter on the head, before finally starting to leave along with Chie all while waving at them. “Bye, bye, guys! Be good!”

“…We should go too,” Rika then added once the two of them disappeared inside the school. “Miyuki?”

“Ah… well, actually, I have to go with big sis Rena. I promised that I’d help for the preparations too, so…”

“…I see. How dutiful for someone who’s not even a villager,” Rika said teasingly, but trustfully by this point the Akasakas had pretty much became secondary Hinamizawans. Then she looked down at the baby girl who was still resting on her shoulder. “Looks like I have to give you back to your mother. I’ll see you later as well.”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep before then,” Rena added as she reached out to gather her daughter back in her arms.

Rika chuckled, then booped Kihiro’s little nose.

The child scrunched her face, and  fine  , maybe, just  maybe  she could agree she was cute. Just a little bit.

______________________________________________________________

It felt almost like the herbs were getting thicker and longer.

That was her first sensation as she was getting closer to her house; the little shack right next to the Furude family’s main residence.

That seemed odd even to her ears, because surely there was no reason for the herbs to get thicker over time — longer was a possibility though, but she knew usually the Kimiyoshis made a point to take care of it and cut them off so that it never get too out of control.

Although, to be honest, none of them truly adventured too far away from the main residence like over here — that place had always been her and Satoko’s sanctuary, and probably always would be.

Nostalgia overwhelmed her as she kept walking, her big luggage trailing behind her, and for a moment, if she closed her eyes, she could even feel like a little girl again; wearing her dark suspender and pleated skirt uniform, long blue hair flying behind her back and her best friend’s hand grasped tightly in hers on their way to school.

The road had never changed since then, but it still felt incredibly different at the same time, which gave the place some sort of extreme uncanny feeling that started to eat away at her.

She shook away the thought as she finally reached the shack’s entrance, and reached out to the door — which was open.

“Satoko? Are you there?”

As soon as she set foot inside, a sweet flavour tickled her nose; something simple, like a mix of salmon and rice and soy sauce, but that was delicate and warm and cosy; a flavour that would always feel like home and like Satoko, and Rika smiled, because that was it.

She was finally home; her real home.

“Satoko! I’m back!” She exclaimed as she dropped off her luggage in a corner of the room and headed towards the kitchen.

As she’d expected, a soft humming greeted her before any person; and there, amidst the frizzing of the pan and the smell of the food, she saw a woman’s silhouette, blond hair, and a back wearing a green blouse and jeans.

Manifestly, she hadn’t heard her.

A mischievous grin stretched Rika’s lips; and all while being as quiet as a cat, she slowly stepped towards her friend. She stopped right behind Satoko, the other woman continuing to hum without a care in the world, and with a precise hit that spoke of years of experience, Rika reached out and pinched each of her childhood friend’s flanks.

A high-pitched shriek resonated throughout their small kitchen, followed by a spoon clattering on the ground with a thud, and then glaring, angry magenta eyes pierced her, full of anger.

“R-Rika!” Satoko hissed, her voice still trapped between fury and shock.

Rika simply smiled back at her innocently.

“Mii! Hello, Satoko. Nice to see you! It smells absolutely de-li-cious!”

She leaned towards the frizzing pan to check out and smell its content as Satoko appeared to do everything in her power to try not to murder her with her own two hands right on the spot.

“Do you realize I could’ve burned myself?! Or completely fail my dish?!”

“Sheesh, of course you wouldn’t have! You’re too skilled of a cook for that now.”

“Being skilled doesn’t matter when someone mess with you on purpos— Hey! Stop! Don’t put your fingers in there, and don’t eat this before it’s time!”

Rika laughed heartily, then swiftly avoided Satoko’s hand trying to grab her as she started to lick the cream she’d just scooped up from the bowl on the table off of her finger. Before her friend got to scold her for her childish and bad manners, she jumped at her, wrapping her arms around her neck tightly.

Citrus, salmon, oil swept her nostrils, and a small, strong heart beat against her own; all of them grounding and all of them belonging to Satoko only.

“C’mon, don’t be mad,” she whispered warmly in her ear. “You know I just cannot resist your charms, you’re simply way too cute!”

And then she kissed her cheek, and jumped away before the other woman got the time to say anything. She didn’t need to see her face to know how red it must be, as it always was whenever Rika did something like that, and satisfied with herself, she simply hopped away towards the living room. She heard Satoko grumbles something like ‘you’re unbelievable’ behind her back, but the fondness in her voice was unmistakable and it made Rika’s smile widen. She stopped curiously when she reached the table however, noticing that it was already all set up; three porcelain plates, chopsticks and glasses resting properly aligned on the wooden surface.

“Oh? Were you expecting guests?”

“Nii-nii and Saki should come eat here any minutes now,” came Satoko’s explanation as she entered the room, her hands full of side dishes. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to eat with us.”

“My train was early,” Rika replied as she sat a the table. “But it’s okay, don’t worry. Although…”

She lifted her head as Satoko took place in front of her and threw her a confusing gaze.

“I am a little sad to not have Satoko aaall to myself when we haven’t seen each other for so long, mii!”

As expected, Satoko instantly flushed red and threw a towel in retaliation, which only managed to makes Rika laughs loudly. “D-Don’t be ridiculous, Rika!”

I’m not, Rika almost argued. She’d been joking, sure, but there was in fact a genuine part of her who was a little disappointed to not get a moment with Satoko alone. She couldn’t exactly admit it out loud without ending up being the one being teased about it, though.

Satoko sighed, shook her head exasperatedly, then finally let a real, adorable smile brighten her face.

She was so pretty, looking at her that way. Rika had truly missed her.

“Well, I am glad to see you again despite this. How are you? How was your trip?”

“Boring. You know I can’t manage to focus on anything during travels by train, not even reading. I did try to write a little, but…”

Her voice trailed, and she looked away. She could feel more than see Satoko’s eyes narrow at her, filling with suspicion.

“But?”

“Nothing. It’s not important,” Rika waved away, and before Satoko could argue or press her any further, she added: “What about you, then? Everything’s okay at work?”

Satoko clearly seemed to hesitate, but finally decided to go Rika’s way and nodded. “Like usual. Things have been a bit busy since I’ve started helping that transport engineering project with Keiichi and Mion, though. You know? The one I’ve told you about?”

Rika hummed in agreement, but admittedly she still didn’t know much about this ‘project’ of them. She’d only heard the vague outline; something about wanting to improve the transportation in the region, specifically around the more isolated villages, and thanks to Keiichi with his newfound work in the community’s politics and Satoko’s mechanical engineering degree, both of them had enthusiastically started to help out. Satoko’s specialization was mechatronics, but she was surprisingly very skilled and knowledgeable in vehicle and structural engineering (and had even just starting studying computer engineering as well), so it felt only natural that she’d be the most competent person around to take part in this plan even alongside her main freelance job.

Maybe Rika stayed quiet for a little too long, because then Satoko started to give her that look again; the one she had whenever she got worried about her and suspected she was hiding something and tried to extirpate it from her head — which was stupid, because Rika was not hiding anything from her currently.

It’d been two decades now since Rika had made actual efforts not to hide important things or any problems from Satoko and the rest of the club, and, most of the time, she was pretty successful at it.

Most of the time.

“Rika—”

“Sooo, what have you cooked for lunch? I haven’t eaten your cooking for a while, so I’m really looking forward to it!”

“I haven’t cooked anything for you!” Satoko replied curtly, and the glint in her gaze told Rika she hadn’t missed the way she’d abruptly changed the topic. “As I said, I wasn’t expecting you this early. Be grateful if there’s even enough to fill your plate at all.”

“How mean,” Rika whimpered in a false-hurt voice. “Ah, by the way, I’ve learnt a new recipe that I absolutely need to teach you.”

“Oh?”

“Something from my new Dutch friend I told you about — you know, Annika?”

“The boat girl,” Satoko recognized before nodding.

“The very one. Well, she showed me this dish with potatoes and salmon and cream — it’s absolutely delicious! I’m sure you’ll love it, I have to—”

“Aunt Rika?!”

Rika startled in surprise, and turning her head she finally caught sight of a little girl with blonde pigtails, of a lighter colour than Satoko’s, staring at her with shocked, clear green eyes. The shock faded away quickly, though, and then morphed into a glare as she crossed her arms in a way that probably was meant to come across as annoyed, but because of how small she was it only looked cute. Rena would be disappointed to know she missed this.

“Why’s Aunt Rika here?” The child whined in an irritated tone, and Rika had to repeat to herself She’s barely six, don’t get mad, you’re the adult here in her mind before replying.

“Just as cute as her ever, Saki. And don’t call me ‘aunt,’ it’s ‘big sis’ or nothing.”

“I thought Aunt Rika wouldn’t come until later!”

“Sakiko,” Satoko said firmly. “That’s enough. You don’t talk to adults with that tone and you know it. That’s rude.”

Rika sighed, looking at her friend getting into Mom Mode and scolding her niece as if she was her own; which instantly worked, as the girl was never able to argue back when Satoko was the one reprimanding her.

Sakiko was a good kid, but she could have a bit of a bad character at times and for some reason tended to be a bit prickly towards Rika. Maybe because she loved Satoko like a second mother and didn’t like when she didn’t have her full attention. Which was also probably the reason behind her acerb mood at the moment.

Well, Satoko was mine first, so I won’t apologize to borrow her now, Rika almost said pettily before reminding herself that picking a fight with a kid who hadn’t even started 1rst grade was, in fact, a bit ridiculous.

“Saki!” A gentle but firm masculine voice suddenly came from behind her. “Come on, Saki. What did I told you about running away ahead of me like that without warning?”

“You were too slow, Daddy!” The girl immediately argued as her father finally came into view, dishevelled blond hair falling into his face and tired eyes of the same colour as his sister’s scanning the room.

He didn’t look as exhausted as Rena, but it still seemed close. Though Rika couldn’t tell if it was because of his energetic daughter or because it had been a busy morning at the café that he and Shion owned in Okinomiya.

“Ah… Hello, Rika,” the man said when he realized her presence, which took him way too much time, and he smiled at her. “It’s nice to see you. You’re early, aren’t you?”

Rika nodded, smiling back but too lazy to have to explain yet again why she was here at least too hours before what had been planned. “I would have missed Satoko’s cooking for nothing in the world! Nipah!”

“You keep missing it ‘cause you’re always away,” Sakiko replied, and Satoko seemed to be about to scold her again when Rika simply grinned and crossed her arms.

“Harsh words for a kid who don’t seem to have grown up at all in six months.”

Sakiko flushed red. “I’ve grown up! I’m five… uhh… six…”

“34.5’’,” her Satoshi helped, patting Rika’s head as a sign of greeting just like he did so often since they were kids while sitting at the table next to his sister.

“Well in any case, that’s what I said; you haven’t grown up in the slightest. Actually, haven’t you shrunk?”

Sakiko’s face crumpled at her remark. Ever since she’d learned she was smaller than most kids her age it had became a sour spot for her, and Rika couldn’t help but laugh (and, alright, maybe she wasn’t very good at being the mature one, but who would blame her?). Until she felt a small fist colliding with her stomach.

“Hey, Saki!” Satoshi instantly exclaimed, distraught. “You can’t hit people!”

“Aunt Rika was being mean!”

“It’s fine, it was barely a hit at all,” Rika intervened. “You should hit harder, kid, or you’ll go nowhere in life.”

“Right, let her be, Nii-nii. Rika deserved that one.”

“See?” Sakiko exclaimed proudly. “Mama Satoko agrees with me!”

“You two, please don’t encourage her…”

Sakiko pulled her tongue out at Rika, then immediately ran off towards Satoko, sitting on her lap and hiding her head into her chest like a small animal, which only made Rika grin. Satoko smiled in turn and kissed the top of Sakiko’s head while rubbing circles into her back tenderly.

Somehow, it reminded Rika of how Satoko used to run off and hide behind her big brother’s back whenever she felt upset as a child — or behind her, for that matter, after Satoshi disappeared. Satoko and Sakiko had very different personalities, and the latter generally tended to take after Shion’s fierce character, but they suddenly felt very similar, looking at it this way. Except for the fact Satoko would have cried her eyes out like the crybaby she used to be, while Sakiko was only glaring at Rika like she was about to jump on her and claw her eyes out. It was cute.

“So where is your mommy, Saki?” Rika ended up asking, without being able to prevent her voice taking on a teasing edge.

“Not tellin’!” The child mumbled, her face still pressed into her aunt’s chest, and Satoshi rolled his eyes.

“She was still arguing with Mion and Akane, last I checked,” he replied instead, which only made Rika laugh again.

“Guess some things never change,” she let out before thinking her words, but then it made her pause.

Because that wasn’t really true.

Even the things that seemed like they hadn’t ‘changed’ were still widely disparate from how they used to be.

Everything was different now; every day trickled forward mercilessly, bearing no similarity the to the precedent — and with them, bringing a new wrinkle to each inch of Rika’s skin.

Everything kept on evolving ever since that day twenty years ago where Rika broke free of her endless cursed summer of death, and with it came along a desperately hopeful and dreadful feeling that overwhelmed her each time the sun rose up.

______________________________________________________________

It was pretty incredible how much the festival preparations were already bustling so early on.

Back when Rika was a child, or even only ten years ago, they would just only be starting to prepare for it at this time; but now most of the booths were already set up and people were running left and right, arguing back and forth. Watanagashi had come to be a huge deal nowadays, especially with the village beginning to become such an attractive tourist place, and it made her feel a bit dizzy.

Sometimes, she missed when Hinamizawa wasn’t as busy and popular. When it was just her and her handful of friends playing around amidst the paddy fields and the forest’s trees without bumping into anyone, even less so into strangers who only came here to appreciate the landscape.

“Ooh, Lady Rika! You’re back!”

As she entered the temple’s grounds, she was stopped in her walk by at least the tenth person since she’d came here, and this time it was by a man she hadn’t seen since almost a year. Satoko, Satoshi and Sakiko all stopped as well, nodding as a sign of greeting to the man — Kiichirou Kimiyoshi’s first son, Hiromune.

It would be nine years now since the old Kimiyoshi had unfortunately passed away, and although Keiichi had been the new mayor for quite some years, the Kimiyoshis still held a lot of influence in the region so he had preserved a pretty important place within the village’s hierarchy.

Although, truthfully, most people considered that the village’s old hierarchy had completely died along with Hinamizawa’s empress, Oryou, who despite her bad health had clung to life until six years ago. Irie had said it had practically been a miracle she stayed with them so long all while being mostly lucid.

Rika could still remember the funerals pretty vividly, as it had been the first she’d been to one where she actually felt like crying.

She had complicated feelings for the old woman because of all the harm she’d done to the Houjous, but she still had been a part of her life since her birth and had been like a grandmother to her.

She still hadn’t cried, though.

“It’s so nice to have you back! You’re as beautiful as ever,” the man continued, and Rika smiled back at him gratefully.

“Thank you. That’s good to see you too, Hiromune. Are the rest of the family well?”

“Of course!” He laughed. “Kisaku’s just starting his own business, and my niece Kazuho just graduated college. Things are looking pretty well for them.”

“Are Shion and Mion here?” Satoshi asked, smiled softly as the rest of the Houjous stood behind him, Sakiko’s arms firmly wrapped around Satoko’s neck while she held her.

Hiromune nodded, then pointed at the temple as he explained “they were still arguing in there,” and Satoshi thanked him.

Sometimes, an old form of wariness wormed its way into Rika’s guts when she watched the older villagers like Hiromune interact with the Houjous. The discrimination their family had suffered were non-existent at present, especially since their generation were now well into adulthood, but Rika had never let go of her grudges easily and it was hard to forget how those people had treated children like Satoko and Satoshi.

She didn’t think she was the only one either, because for as much as the Houjou siblings had good relationships with most everyone in the village now, she could still sometimes discern Satoko’s shoulders tense in expectation or see Satoshi’s features stretch with anxiety by instinct.

She’d caught little Sakiko glares at the elders for no reason from times to times, too. No one had ever said a word at the little girl about what had happened or about Oyashiro’s curse, but it seemed she could just feel there was an ugly history hidden behind.

A hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, and when she looked up Satoko smiled at her, as if she’d just read her thoughts and tried to reassures her. Which was silly, because there was nothing to reassure Rika from — and usually, it was her job to do so.

Her feelings eased up as soon as Hiromune turned away, and the four of them finally headed towards the temple. A dozen of people were inside, for what had probably been a meeting at first but now looked to be more of an intense verbal fight between the two most iconic twins of the entire region.

“I told you this would not work! See — you never listen to me, Sis, and now look what happened!”

“You can’t know without trying! And we still don’t have all the results—”

“What more do you need?! For the festival to be a complete failure with all of our stocks being insufficient?!”

As the two sisters were hurling insults at each other, both standing on each side of the long table, Rika noticed Akane sat in the background with the most exhausted expression she’d ever seen, while she heard a ‘oh dear’ escape Satoko from behind her.

The only one completely unbothered by the situation seemed to be Sakiko, who sneaked away from her aunt’s arms and ran right into the middle of the fight.

“Mommy!” She exclaimed, and instantly, almost in a comical way, both Shion and Mion snapped out of the argument and looked down towards the tiny child who trotted over and jumped into her mother’s arms without any warnings, almost making her fall over.

“Whoa! Hey there, Saki— Hey!”

As Shion struggled to reception her daughter, both Akane and Mion seemed to notice the rest of the group, and particularly Rika; upon Mion’s face brightened, all tension disappearing right away as if it had never existed.

“Hey, lookit who’s here! The biggest star of the village finally makes her entrance!” She said before immediately closing the distance and wrapping her arms around Rika.

While Rika never refused her friends’ physical affection, she had to admit the most annoying part of coming back to Hinamizawa after awhile was all the embraces she had to go through each times; but of course she couldn’t actually complain about this without coming across as a jerk, so she simply hugged back her oldest friend quietly.

“I’m glad to see you back,” Akane declared, and it seemed there was an implicit ‘Thank you for saving us from this’ hidden somewhere in her words.

Rika nodded in a sympathetic way, and then suddenly it really hit her just how tired and old Akane looked.

The Demon Princess of Shishibone was usually known of her implacable force of character, but here only a couple of hours of meeting and a fight between her daughters seemed to have tired her to the bone. Of course, Rika was well-aware that Akane was now almost in her sixties, but it still was an odd thing to wrap her mind around, and an odd feeling twisted her stomach.

“Ohh, so you’re finally here!” Rika heard another voice from behind her, and Rena then showed up along with Miyuki who was holding Kihiro in her arms.

“Rena! You’ve been here since a while? Where’s Kei?! I told him I wanted him to be here!” Mion instantly fulminated, a frown back on her face.

Rena smiled at her in an apologetic way, clapping her hands together.

“Sorry, Mii! He got very busy at school— but he said he’ll do his best to wrap up everything as quickly as he could.”

Mion groaned. “How comes he always does this?! He’s the mayor ! He can’t just go around skipping meetings about his village!”

“Don’t be mad, Mii,” Rika said nonchalantly. “Keiichi always does his best by the village even when he skips meetings.”

“I know that, but that still doesn’t make this okay.”

“That’s also rich to hear this from you, Rika,” Shion added as she rejoined the group, daughter in arms. “You’re always skipping meetings to run around the world, and you’re one of the heads of the three families.”

Rika smiled smugly. “Hinamizawa doesn’t need the three families anymore. It functions perfectly well without them.”

That was something she genuinely believed in, too. After Miyo Takano’s defeat, all of them had worked hard together with the villagers to make Hinamizawa a more open, modern place, and that had included getting rid of some of its outdated heritage like the village’s hierarchy and the three families. At some point as an adult, Mion had revoked her rights as the head of the Sonozakis and put into place a way that didn’t make the village as dependant on that system anymore, ultimately leading her to take back her uncle’s job as the owner of Okinomiya’s toys shop.

So of course, all of this was perfect for Rika as she now had very little responsibility towards the village as a Furude, but Hinamizawa slowly detaching itself from too old traditional staples that had stopped being relevant long ago was great for everyone in the end. Now even someone who was originally an outsider like Keiichi could take important decisions within the community, newcomers and tourists alike came more and more every year, and the village kept developing and evolving in positive manners.

A couple years ago, Rika had even started to accept teaching young girls about the traditional dance of Watanagashi as well as the customs of the Oyashiro priestesses; so that maybe one of them would succeed her eventually, even though up until now it had only been something reserved to the Furude women.

She was sure that Oyashiro — that Hanyuu was proud.

“Still sounds like an excuse to skip out to me,” Shion added, arching an eyebrow, and Rika grinned at her.

“Always a critic. I’m glad to see you missed me too, Shii.”

“Now, now, let’s not fight any more for tonight guys, shall we?” Satoko intervened, clapping her hands in an authoritative manner.

“Right! We still have a lot of work to help out with the festival prep,” Rena agreed. “And now that you’re here, Rika, you’ll help out too, right?”

“Uh… well, that is to said—”

“Of course she’ll help out,” Mion said, grinning viciously as she put both of her hands on Rika’s shoulders. “She can’t escape this. You don’t even have any training for the dance planned today.”

Rika sighed. “That’s mean. Even though I only just arrived after a long trip in train…”

“Pssh. You’ve had plenty time to recuperate, Rika! Stop being lazy! You’re setting up a bad example for the kids.”

Rika groaned, knowing that if even Satoko was getting on her case she truly wouldn’t be able to escape this, which made a few club members giggles.

It was still only the start of the afternoon, the sun peeking out in the sky warmly, but Rika knew it would be a long one.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s very nice of you, but we actually have things planned already tonight. Plus, I think it’d be better to leave you all together, right? Even Mr. and Mrs. Maebara left you the house specifically for that.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Rika couldn’t continue as Miyuki opened the door of the main Furude residence, and they stepped inside together. Just like every time she would came here, a big wave of nostalgia overwhelmed her and she took a deep breath.

The house was still the same as when she was a child. The walls, the rooms, some of the furniture. She could still remember pretty vividly the way she used to run around in the corridor, how she would cook with her mom in the kitchen or pester her dad on the porch to let her drink his wine.

It felt like an eternity ago, and at the same time, so close in time; a family life lost and meddled within thousands of thousands of different loops and memories.

When she entered the living room, however, instead of her parents sitting at the table was the Akasaka couple — Mamoru was just about to fill Yukie’s glass with water as their daughter enthusiastically waved at them.

“Hey! Dad, Mom, big sis Rika’s finally here!”

Both of them lifted their heads towards the newcomers, and as everyone before them, their faces brightened upon recognizing Rika. In Akasaka’s case, however, something warmer, softer stretched his features; a gentle smile and a fondness unique to him coloured his eyes as he fixed his eyes to her.

“Rika,” he greeted, his voice as deep and smooth as usual when he spoke to her. “You look good.”

It was a much simpler welcome compared to all those that she’d received up until now, but it somehow managed to make her heart fill with warmth a lot more than any of the others. Without even thinking about it, she headed in his direction, wrapped her arms around him and melted into his embrace. His strong arms enveloped her body and strongly hugged her in return, kissing the top of her head as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Her friends’ arms had always been home, but she had never felt as safe as when she was in Akasaka and Hanyuu’s embrace; as if nothing in the world could touch her as long as they were here, protecting her from everything.

An odd feeling of grief tightened her throat a little as she was briefly reminded of her own father’s hugs; and it made her feel odd, that even after all these years, she was still able to get that familiar ache in her chest.

She used to think she had become completely desensitized to those kinds of emotions after her decades of decay within the loops.

Maybe those past years of normal life had managed to get her back some of her humanity.

With some reluctance, she finally let go of Akasaka and pulled away, smiling back at him.

“We’re so glad to finally see you again,” Yukie then said with her innate motherly tone.

“For once, I didn’t even had to wait!” Miyuki added cheerfully as she took place at the table.

“Come on, Miyuki, don’t be rude. And you could at least make the effort to serve some tea to the guest.”

“Technically, we’re the guests, as this is her house,” her daughter pointed out. “Also, I’ve spent the entire afternoon running around. She’ll survive.”

Rika gently elbowed her in the sides, frowning, but Miyuki only chuckled and her mother sighed in fond exasperation.

“I was just proposing to Miyuki that you should come over to eat dinner with us at Keiichi’s house. But I guess it might be better for some of you to not come, after all, huh,” Rika said, side-eyeing Miyuki.

“Oh, right. I’ve heard from Rena about this,” Akasaka replied. “Sadly, we already have plans tonight. Ooishi is meant to come over to eat with us.”

“Oh? First I hear about this. I didn’t even know he was in town.”

“He is. It’s been twenty years since the curse’s case has been resolved, so he thought he’d like to come as… a way to commemorate this, I suppose.”

Yukie sighed. “Honestly, I kept telling him it would be best for him to stay in Sapporo. He’s not young anymore, and moving around like that is not good for his health.”

“Don’t worry, Yukie. He wouldn’t have come if this truly was too much for him,” her husband responded levelly.

“True!” Miyuki interjected. “Uncle Kura is as tenacious as a cockroach, no way a little trip’s gonna beat him.”

Ooishi had moved to Sapporo with his mother shortly after they’d solved the case about Oyashiro’s curse. Having received closure regarding his old friend’s death, there was nothing that tied him to the village anymore so he had finally decided to retire. Rika rarely got the occasion to see him afterwards, and most of the news she heard were thanks to Akasaka, but apparently it seemed he was living a peaceful, fulfilling life. She had thought that after everything that had happened he would’ve rather cut all ties with Hinamizawa, but sometimes every few years he dropped by at the village, and according to Akasaka he always asked about ‘the kids’ here whenever they talked to each other. Even though Rika and the others hadn’t been ‘kids’ in a long time.

Still, just like Akane, he had gotten quite old now as well. Even for how much of a ‘cockroach’ he was, it wouldn’t be surprising if in a handful of years he were to leave them.

Just like Kiichirou and Oryou had.

Just like Akane eventually would in a couple of decades, too.

In the corner of her eyes, Rika caught sight of an altar with her parents’ photo resting on top of it. It was something Yukie had made for her years ago when she had told her once that she’d never done this for them, and ever since she would always keep it well-maintened every time she’d came.

Her mother and father’s eyes from the frozen picture seemed scathingly burning all of a sudden, and Rika felt heavy, like the weight of the world and of the past twenty years had just fell upon her shoulders.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she almost felt like she was starting to suffocate— until a large, warm hand settled on her arm, and she lifted her eyes to meet Akasaka’s concerned eyes.

“Is everything all right?” He asked gently, and Rika smiled, not wanting to worry him.

And she was all right. Really.

She was home, with her family, for the first time in months; Watanagashi was just around the corner; everyone was well and alive and were leading fulfilling, promising lives filled with hope.

There was nothing bad about any of this. This was good — great, even.

Everyone has a right to pursue a happy life.

The difficult part is to be given that right—

“I’m okay,” Rika said, attempting to widen her smile.

Hoping it felt more genuine that she felt.

Akasaka didn’t seem to believe her entirely, just like Miyuki and Yukie probably, but she didn’t feel like looking at them right now so she wouldn’t.

“I’m glad to be there with you,” she then added, and it was true. It was. “I missed you.”

Akasaka smiled. “I missed you too. I…” He seemed to hesitate. “I’m sure you know that by now, but, I’m always here for you if you need it. Even if it’s just to talk. You’re like a daughter to me, so please don’t hesitate to come to me for help. To us,” he added pointedly, looking at his wife and daughter, whom Rika could see nodding right away at his words.

She smiled, stared at Miyuki, then Yukie, then finally the man who had became her second father in the last twenty, twenty-five, one hundred twenty-five last years.

“I know.”

______________________________________________________________

The Maebara house, or Maebara Mansion as most everyone in the village still called it, had known a few different works throughout the years — Ichirou had made some big new layouts in his workshop, Aiko had redecorated the kitchen and living room at least twice — but even so the feeling of cosiness and warmness that Rika had always associated with it persisted, and she loved coming back to it almost as much as to her and Satoko’s place.

“And here it is! Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon! The most unique and tasty that you’ll ever eat in the entirety of Japan! There is no one who can cook deep-fried pork cutlet, eggs or vegetables the way Miss Ryuuguu does!”

All while finishing his speech very theatrically, Keiichi disposed the plates on the table as everyone were awed at the dish’s presentation and mouth-watering odour that filled the room. Only Rena appeared flustered about the over-the-top praises and threw him a reprimanding look.

“K-Keiichi, I told you to stop doing things like that! It’s not anything special… I wanted to actually cook something more complicated, but…”

“Gah, don’t be silly, Rena!” Mion interrupted. “Kei’s right, absolutely no one can cook like you, even your simplest dishes are delicious! Not even Grandma rivalled you.”

“That’s very true,” Satoshi added. “Stop putting you down.”

“Being modest is not cute at all anymore,” his sister agreed, and poor Rena could only melt in her seat, completely red and defeated.

“So, as I was saying!” Keiichi resumed. “This is Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon, cooked with love by delicate fingers and accompanied with tonkatsu sauce—”

“Who cares!” The youngest of the table, Sakiko, suddenly cut off her uncle with a grumpy face. “I’m hungry! Let’s eat!”

Truthfully, the poor girl had been waiting more than an hour before they actually started digging into the dinner, so Rika couldn’t blame her eagerness. At least Kihiro had gotten baby privilege, eating early on and then now sleeping peacefully in her room; but Sakiko and her five years of age had to wait at the table like the adults.

“Saki!” Satoko exclaimed, using her best Angry Mom Voice. “Don’t interrupt your uncle like that. Apologize.”

“It’s fine, Satoko,” Shion intervened. “It’s just Kei, and Saki’s right; we should start eating instead of monologuing!”

“N-Nee-nee! You can’t say that, you need to set the example for her—”

“Geez! It’s a party tonight, no need to be so serious!” Shion grabbed Satoko’s cheek and pulled on it, while Satoshi simply shook his head, but he looked more amused than anything.

“No, no, you’re very right, young lady,” Keiichi added finally, winking at Sakiko, whose bad mood seemed to be wiped out instantly and giggled at the man’s antics. “It’s a lot ruder to simply stare at all this marvellous food and not touch it!”

“Well spoken, Soldier Maebara!” Mion exclaimed in turn, raising from her seat and clicking her chopsticks on her glass. “All Club Members! No one are allowed to even leave one crumb of Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon! Am I being clear?!”

A thundering ‘Yeaaah!’ resonated throughout the Maebara Mansion’s living room, and the club’s game president smiled smugly.

“All right! In that case, let’s dig in in one… two… three!”

“Fight, on!” Rika added.

And everyone did as they were told; although Sakiko actually started eating before Mion finished the countdown, ignoring Satoko’s reprobating look.

Of course, Rena’s katsudon was absolutely delicious. Everyone devoured all of it, as well as the sweets that had came from the neighbourhood’s ladies, and by the time Sakiko started to get grumpy because of the fatigue and her father had to bring her to bed Mion had already brought out a Jenga game to begin their first proper club game tournament in a long time.

This was the same type of intense challenge Rika was used to — has been used to for decades and decades — and she smiled and laughed and teased as much as the others, played at heart’s content, enjoyed every single minute of the adrenaline the rush of the club’s events always procured.

It was as it always was, as it always should be — similar, but still never the same as what she’d been used to in her century-trapped loop.

But then, in a way, it also felt… a bit off.

And Rika started to get that odd feeling of disconnection she felt, from times to times, when the world kept on turning but she alone seemed stuck in a small bubble of time separated from the rest.

Just like when she used to be held captive in a hundred years chessboard game while everyone around her was blissfully unaware.

The world kept turning, her loved ones kept laughing, but only she was detached, floating around, untethered.

As Rena, Shion and Mion were starting the final round, Rika discretely rose from her seat.

With all the grace of a feline and a glass of wine in hand, she went outside the house and closed the door behind her. The summer night was cold, a frail breeze brushing her face and hair, and she took a long breath.

It felt nice, like a way to ground her back in the present. She raised her eyes towards the sky, then took a sip of wine. It was one element to their club activities that had gotten naturally added after all of them turned twenty-one — alcohol. Of course some of them, most notably Satoko and Rena, had not been fond of the concept and actively discouraged the idea to use it in games, but it was still something that ended up being put in to spice things up, especially when it came to late-night games like now.

Although of course, whenever it came to alcohol games, no one could ever beat Rika to it.

It had become a little more awkward to talk about why that was — and Satoko always got angry at her whenever she drunk too much, as her maybe-alcoholism had been a point of contention between them for a while.

She was probably right, too; but Rika didn’t think she could ever stop drinking, as it had become one of her last means of true comfort.

Or it should be, at least, but it seemed tonight, even wine was pretty ineffective to ease her feelings of anxiety and dissociation.

It was in those types of moments she really missed Hanyuu.

She’d be annoying, no doubt, but at least she’d here, with her, like she always used to be — and at least she would talk to her, and whisper to her, and sing to her, like when she used to be a child. At least she’d be—

“Thought I’d seen someone get out earlier… so it was you.”

The voice almost made her jump; she swirled around, and Keiichi was here, standing next to her, grinning — but not in his usual way, more softer.

“Yo, Rika. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I was just taking some fresh air.”

“Some fresh air, huh?”

Keiichi eyed her glass suspiciously as she said so. Satoko hadn’t been the only one of her friends to have some misgivings regarding her drinking habits — Rena, especially, had taken her aside on the topic more than once — but surprisingly, Keiichi had also been one of the most disapproving on the topic.

She groaned. “I haven’t drunk that much. It’s only my… fifth glass… Probably?”

“Rika…”

“It’s not a lot for me, I swear. And either way, that’s none of your business. I’m not driving tonight anyway, so.”

Keiichi sighed, and it was too dark to see if he was rolling his eyes but she was pretty sure he did.

“Okay, okay. I’m not here to fight with you. Satoko won’t be happy about this, though.”

“What Satoko doesn’t know can’t hurt her,” she replied, finishing the glass.

“What, you’re lying to her now?”

“I’m not… Keiichi, are you here for something or do you just want to lecture me?”

“No, I was just… Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

He sighed, then crouched down. Rika stared at him for a moment, then finally let herself sat on the ground next to him. Her head fell on his shoulder casually.

“Rika, is everything good?”

“Hmm hm.”

“Cause you, like, don’t look all that good. I mean, you’re good, but… I dunno. You seem a big spacey? Did something happen in one of your trips, before you came back?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Nothing happened. Or rather… yeah, things happened. Some bad, some good, but that has nothing to do with this… It’s just…”

She felt Keiichi tilt his head slightly, a few brown strands falling in her eyes. She could sense his concern from here; but he didn’t rush her, just waited for her to speak on her own.

It was something Keiichi had learned and became good at as he got older; how to listen, how to be patient. He matured, grown into such a good, reliable man. She was proud of him.

Rika wasn’t sure she could say the same of her.

“I don’t feel bad,” she finally said. “I don’t. I’m glad to be here. I’m glad to be back home, in Hinamizawa, to see all of you; I really missed you…”

“I know you did.”

“But… It’s not the same.”

Keiichi seemed to consider her words for a moment.

“It’s not,” he repeated, and Rika wasn’t certain if it was a question or simply an agreement.

“It’s similar, but everything’s different. Everyone’s different. Hinamizawa has changed so much; is still changing so much.”

“And it’s bad?”

“No, that’s the thing. It’s good. But I just… Maybe.” She inhaled. Eyes rived on the stars, shining, blinding, hurting. “Maybe I just feel a little bit left behind.”

Far, far away, somewhere in the woods, or in the fields, cicadas were singing.

But even their chirping had stopped feeling familiar to Rika.

Keiichi suddenly moved a little, and she felt as if he was about to say something; but then the door opened, making both of them jump.

“Oh, so you were there!” Rena exclaimed happily. “Shii won! And god, she keeps grinning while thinking about the punishment, and—”

She stopped, blinked, looked at each of her friends. “Am I… interrupting?”

Rika and Keiichi exchanged a gaze, then shook their heads.

“Nah, we were just musing,” the man explained. “About… change, and stuff.”

“Change,” Rena repeated.

She eyed Keiichi, then her gaze landed on Rika; which instinctively, made the younger woman look away. As always, it was just impossible to sustain Rena’s piercing gaze when it felt like she could read anyone like a book.

“Change’s complicated,” she added, and somehow, despite how ridiculously simple her statement was, it felt strangely validating of Rika’s feelings. “It’s scary, but not unsurmountable. Not if we have guidance and people rely on.”

Keiichi laughed, full throat on, and nodded heartily. “Rena’s always got the best encouragement, even when she doesn’t know what we’re talking about!”

Rika smiled briefly, but then Keiichi turned towards Rika, and abruptly gripped her shoulder; firmly, reassuringly.

“Rika, you might feel that way, but you’re not left behind, y’know. We’ll… never really be able to get what you’ve been through, but we’ll always be here, as tightly knit as always, whenever you need it. And you just have to make a phone call, even if you’re on the other side of the planet, and we’ll come running for you right away. Always.” He turned towards Rena, something on his face seeming to ask her silently if he’d said the right words. “Right?”

“Right.”

And Rika felt like she probably should say something, thank them maybe, but her throat was all clogged up and she didn’t think she’d be able to pronounce a single word without her voice cracking; so instead she simply nodded, hoping the silent gratefulness showed enough on her face.

Her friends seemed to get it, as they exchanged a smile, but right as they were about to retreat back inside, words brusquely fell out from Rika’s mouth.

“I miss Hanyuu, too.”

She hadn’t actually planned to say this, and it even shocked herself to hear her own voice articulate this peculiar, intimate feeling. It wasn’t like it was a secret, to her or to anyone, but it still was something she generally kept to herself and everyone respected that. Keiichi and Rena looked at her in surprise, before their expression softened and instead his expression settled on awkward, at a loss for words, while hers was more neutral.

“Sorry,” Rika quickly added, and really, her throat shouldn’t feel as dry as this — she would not cry over this, not right now, she just wouldn’t— “I-I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s okay,” Rena said. Both her face and her voice were very gentle, and she took a few steps before softly hugging Rika in her arms. “I miss her too.”

And because it was Rena, who was maybe the only other club member with a particular bond to Hinamizawa’s god, Rika believed her, and let herself feel supported, and loved, and understood.

“Heeyy! Kei, Rena, Rika!” Mion’s voice suddenly resounded from inside, making Rika pull away from Rena before their friend’s silhouette actually burst out outside.

She threw her arms around Rena and Keiichi’s shoulders, apparently too high and excited from the game’s liveliness to notice the mood.

“What’re ya guys doin’?! Trying to run away?”

“No way, I won’t allow it!” Shion’s voice added from behind. “I finally decided upon the punishment, and you’re not going to avoid it!”

Keiichi winced and Rena shuddered, but Rika only laughed — and when they finally all went back inside, she grabbed both of her friends’ hands, letting their warmth being the thing to ground her this time instead of some glass of wine.

______________________________________________________________

She tapped the tip of her pen on the paper.

Her notebook’s page was still blank. Not a trace of ink, of pencil, of gum marks tainted the white of the paper. Not a single hint of inspiration spiralled inside her empty mind. Frustrated, she took yet again the bottle of wine to her side, and emptied it in one gulp.

“Rika, that’s enough now. You’ve drink enough for the evening, don’t you think?”

Satoko headed to her side — Rika had barely sensed her presence, which was unusual — then took the bottle from her hand. Rika glared at her, but she knew if she started to argue it would end up in a fight, and she didn’t want to fight with Satoko right now; so she just let it go, closed her notebook and descended from the window sill on which she’d been perched since they’d come back from Keiichi’s house.

Surprisingly, they hadn’t left all that late. The Sonozaki twins — who were the two biggest drinkers of their group after Rika — had been too drunk to walk anywhere, so they decided to sleep at the Maebaras’; but all the others went home shortly after midnight, Satoko and Rika included. Well, Rika might not have been too drunk to go back to their place without problems, but now she certainly was, as she almost felt her head spinning just by standing.

“Come now, go to sleep, Rika,” Satoko said, kneeling next to their futon. “You have training for the dance tomorrow, don’t you? You need to be in good shape.”

She did. Even if admittedly, she really wasn’t looking forward to doing any of these things right now.

Rika looked through the window for a moment, staring at the full moon shining in the sky, then instinctively turned around to stare at their calendar; almost the same model they’d used for years — the one where out of the two of them who woke up first had the privilege to turn the page each new mornings. The one Rika had stared at longingly for so many, many identical days, endlessly repeating. It displayed today’s date — ‘Sunday, June 8, 2003’   — in a vivid red colour right now.

Rika shook her head, then finally let herself crawl under the blanket of the futon next to Satoko — burying herself under the sheets, as if hoping to disappear through them.

She heard a long-suffering sigh, then the body next to hers moved. Slowly, fingers gently touched hers, and when they weren’t met by rejection they entangled themselves with her own.

“Rika, what’s going on? I know you talked with Keiichi and Rena earlier. Won’t you talk to me too?”

“It’s stupid,” Rika whispered, voice muffled from under the sheets.

“Obviously it’s not, if it makes you act like a capricious child.”

Rika lifted her head, and was met with a pair of magenta jewels glimmering brilliantly under the moonlight.

Satoko’s eyes always shined so brightly, just like the rest of her.

“I’m not,” she mumbled childishly while glaring at her friend, which certainly didn’t help her case.

“Then speak to me. Come on, Rika. You should know that by now. Speak to me.” She paused. “Don’t hide things. At least not to me.”

She did know that, of course.

Talk. Don’t bottle things up. She’d learnt that lesson already, years and years back.

“…I can’t write.”

Satoko blinked at her, confusion written all over her face. “What?”

“I… you know, I write. Sometimes. A couple of sentences, here and there. Poems.”

Satoko nodded. She did know, since Rika had told her herself. She’d never shown anyone her very first notebooks, her very first poems — the ones she’d wrote all by herself, in the darkness, when she felt like everything was so hopeless she’d be better off to stay dead and never come back again.

She’d never shown anyone those poems, not even to Hanyuu.

They were hers, and only hers — painful secrets and ugly thoughts and wretched prayers that had to stay just between herself and the old, deranged witch Bernkastel.

It was her wishes and her despair and her hopes all channelled into flowery words and papers and she could never stand it for anyone to poise their hands on it, tearing apart her heart at its most vulnerable.

That’s why she’d burnt all of them after writing the last one once she made it past that summer twenty years ago.

But while she couldn’t show them, she had… spoken about them. To Satoko.

She’d let Satoko read some of her newer poems, the ones who weren’t as raw as those written in the loops.

“I write… about all sorts of things. My feelings. My travels. My experiences. The years going by…” She swallowed. “But those last few months, it seems I cannot write anything at all anymore.”

Satoko frowned. “Writer’s block?”

“I thought I’d be able to find more inspirations by finally coming back home, but instead…”

Instead, it was if it had been worse. Now even just looking at the paper made her stomach twist and let her mind wander into its worst thoughts.

“I told Keiichi,” she continued, voice soft, almost a whisper. “That I… that things changed. You know. They’re the same, but they’re different. And that’s a good thing, I do believe so, but it feels like I’m… I don’t know, like I’m the only one who doesn’t change. Like I’m the only one who’s… stuck. Like I…”

She stopped. She couldn’t look at Satoko in the eyes anymore, even though she could still feel the other woman’s gaze fixed on her, listening to her intensely.

“Like I’m still stuck in that loop.”

Rika didn’t need to explain what she meant by that, she knew Satoko knew.

The grip on her hand didn’t lessen, but she felt a thumb gently caress her skin, brushing over old cutting scars on her wrist.

“You’re scared of change.”

“No, that’s not… not really. It’s too… I don’t know. The years pass on, and back then— back then, when I was still stuck, I knew what to expect. I knew what would happen every single day, every single hour; everything was scripted, and I just knew. And it was all so unbearably… boring, but at least— at least I knew.” She sighed. “I don’t know anymore. Nothing’s scripted anymore. I can never tell what’s going to happen. And it’s good, but also… Not good. I guess.”

She let go of Satoko’s hand so that she could rub her face and her eyes, and suddenly she felt all of her one hundred thirty-one years weight on her, pulling her down, and she felt so tired.

“I told Keiichi I felt left behind, sort of. But like— that’s stupid. I’m glad to be here, I’m glad things are changing, and— god, it’s been twenty goddamn years, and I should be used to all this by now. I should be— I should be fine. I’m fine.”

Satoko kept silent for a moment, as Rika tried to regulate her breathing and not have some stupid panic attack or something because it would’ve been even more unbearably embarrassing.

Fuck, she wished Hanyuu was here so damn badly. At least with Hanyuu she never felt like an idiot when stuff like this happened.

“You’ve changed too, Rika.”

Rika removed her hands from her face, and turned to stare at Satoko oddly. But her friend wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at her hands under the blanket instead, frowning slightly.

“You’ve changed. You’re not stuck. You might not have realized it, but you did. You’ve grown up. You’ve matured. You speak, you share your burdens, you keep writing. And even when you feel bad, like right now, you keep speaking.” Satoko breathed in, then looked at Rika again. “You know, I really miss you, a whole damn lot. Almost every day, when you’re away travelling the world and whatnot, I wish you were still right here with me, by my side; but at the end of the day, I’m okay with it, because I know you’re out there doing what you love, and in the end you’ll always came back home, come back to me. And every time you do, you look even more beautiful and changed than the last time. And I’m— I’m proud of you, for that.”

Satoko smiles, and there’s something truly unique about this moment with the fact she’s able to say all of this without getting embarrassed.

“And you know, even if I can’t understand what you went through exactly, I can still relate to this. Feeling left behind. Feeling like… I don’t know, the world move too fast, and that one day Saki’s going to be a grown woman and I’ll be an old lady and it won’t makes sense.”

She reached out towards Rika, running her hand in her short blue hair, putting back some of her strands behind her ear in a tender movement.

“But as long as we— keep talking. About this. Then it’ll be all right, I think. It’ll makes sense. We’ll be okay.”

Rika stares at her, straight into her eyes, and Satoko smiles at her, and then she believes it.

Yes, they’ll be okay.

Hanyuu’s not here, and people die and grow up too fast and her village move on and the world keep turning and Rika still feel too disconnected from it all like she’ll never be truly able to fit in and adapt to normal life, but maybe it’ll be all right.

Maybe they’ll be okay.

As she held Satoko’s hand yet again, and close her eyes to fall asleep, her heart feel a little more at ease for the first time since she came back to Hinamizawa.

______________________________________________________________

Watanagashi’s colours and lightning felt so blinding this year.

Well, Rika didn’t know if it was actually any more or less than the other years, but at least it seemed to feel like that for sure. Maybe it was the effect of knowing it was the twentieth year since the end of the curse.

A week had passed since she’d first came, and as the last Sunday of June had finally arrived, the festival was now living at its fullest; villagers and tourists alike trotting both in casual clothes and kimono, children playing and running, music and screams and laughters roaring all around. Rika was watching all of this from afar in her shrine priestess garb while chewing on yakitori, making sure not to dirty the traditional robes. Although she had years of experience of this by now, so it was pretty easy; but this was the last souvenir of Oryou that she had — one she’d sew for her twentieth birthday when at the time she could barely get out of bed anymore — so she still wanted to be extremely careful with it.

She and the rest of the club had just started their big annual club activity — the Fight of the Seven Demons (with, maybe sometimes, Eight Demons because of Sakiko, but the girl usually got quickly tired of this and wanted to go home) — however, at some point there had been tensions between two booth owners and Keiichi, as the mayor, had to go intervene so that it doesn’t degenerate. And on the way back he’d been intercepted by his old pal, famous baseball player Yukikazu Kameda, and they’d been catching up ever since. She heard Satoko let out a sigh as she leaned onto her shoulder, a small horse plushie that Satoshi (well, technically Shion because Satoshi hadn’t been able to win it) had gotten for her at one of the booth as a present.

“Really can’t believe he actually left us for this guy,” she grumbled. “Soon it’ll be time for Rika’s performance and we won’t know who won the Seven Demons’ Fight!”

“Hauu, but look at them, they’re so kyute! I wanna take ‘em home!”

“Don’t worry, Satoko,” Mion added. “Even if we don’t make it in time before the performance, we can finish it after. We don’t have a curfew anymore, after all!”

Rika nodded and was about to add something, when another voice came from behind her.

“You might not have a curfew anymore, but some of you has kids you have to look after now, don’t you?”

Irie appeared in their vision field along with Satoshi and Shion, who had just left briefly to get Sakiko to quiet down as she’d started to throw a tantrum in the middle of the festivities. Rika didn’t know what they’d done, but manifestly she’d calmed down now, resting in her mother’s arms in utter silence.

“Oh, Manager!” Mion exclaimed. “We hadn't seen you all night, so we were wondering if something had happened.”

“There was some work to do at the clinic, but nothing urgent.”

Rika knew that if Irie said that had been nothing urgent then he probably meant it, but the sentence made her tense by instinct. Hinamizawa syndrome hadn’t been an issue in years, and now Irie Clinic was just a normal clinic; once in a while, Rika would still drop by and run some tests, as well as the ones who’d been heavily affected by the syndrome like Satoko and Satoshi, but so far there had not been any new problems and Hifumi Takano or his granddaughter’s researches had not been mentioned in a long time. And even if it was the case, Rika was certain that Irie would instantly come to her about it.

But she still tensed. Maybe it was a natural reaction when it came to the syndrome that had been too deeply embedded in her since she was a child, but she just couldn’t help it.

She didn’t know if Irie actually noticed it, but he still threw an odd sympathetic look at her, which she guessed was meant to be reassuring — and that was surprisingly effective these days. With his caramel hair a bit longer and tied in a low ponytail and his features older, he actually did now have the posture of a respected older doctor, although he was still prompt to throw around his silly jokes.

“We don’t have to worry about the kids, actually,” Rena said. “Aiko and Ichirou are the ones looking after Kihiro right now, and they’ll go home right after Rika’s dance. And Mii and Shii’s uncle Yoshirou said he’ll take care of Saki for the night if need to be.”

“Ohh, I see you’ve already taken care of everything then. What responsible adults you’ve all become.”

“Are you going to have fun at the festival now, then?” Satoko asked. “You work too much, Manager. It’s not good for your health now that your so old.”

“Oh dear, Satoko, you should careful to how you talk to your elders like that.”

Irie laughed heartily, before rubbing Satoko’s head roughly and attempting to pinch her sides in retaliation — although he didn’t look offended at all.

“I wanna play baseball again, Uncle Manager,” Sakiko interjected softly from Shion’s arms.

The girl was still too young to officially rejoins Irie’s baseball team, that had since then became mixed, but with the three most important adults in her life being pretty involved in the sport, she’d quickly got initiated as well — Satoko always boasted about how good she was at it already. Irie smiled at the child, then while checking the authorisation from Shion, he took her in his arms while grinning.

“Of course. I’ll make sure to organize a game just for you at school next month, Saki. What do you say?”

Sakiko’s eyes brightened. “Really?!”

“But in exchange you’ll have to listen to everything your parents says without arguing for a whole year.”

And then her face crumpled, and everyone laughed upon seeing her clearly weighting the pros and the cons in her head.

“Hey, sorry to make you all wait, I’m back now and I’m so fired up!” Keiichi suddenly jumped in from the crowd within their circle, showing off his biceps. “Are you ready to lose?!”

“We’re the ones who should be asking that!” Mion replied, elbowing him in the sides. “Who abandoned us to go hang out with your boyfriend, huh?! You traitor!”

“Ow! Hey, Mion! I already told you to stop it with the accusations, Kameda’s not—”

Mion caught his head in a playful headlock while Rena fussed over them, and after some time spent messing around their big fight finally started again. They jumped from booth to booth, both the games and food ones, as usual without interruption all while making as much noise as possible; something, it seemed, that not even their departure of their teenage years had changed, but also something everyone in Hinamizawa had become quite used to by now.

It was upon arriving at Tomita’s tofu booth that they ultimately decided on their final round, Okamura accepting to play the role of their arbiter; and after a frank debate between the two old best friends, they settled upon Rika being the official winner, with Keiichi arriving last. (Whether or not Okamura’s old crush from their childhood years played into this choice, like Shion accused, was up for debate — but Rika managed to play off all suspicions by reminding them of the fact that both Okamura and Tomita were now married to completely different women than her and Satoko.)

Everything felt so pleasantly familiar as Rika let herself laugh with the others that she’d almost completely forgot her stupid unease she’d had when she’d first arrived here a week ago.

But then, out of nowhere, she promptly heard the click of a camera behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat as a wave of nostalgia swallowed her, and she spun around. She was almost expecting to find in front of her the face of a brown-haired man with glasses and an awkward smile, a big yellow camera in his hands, but instead there was no one; it seemed the click had come from a family a few steps away.

She felt like she was starting to get paranoid now. Honestly, what had been that reaction?

“So?” Mion interject. “What punishment should Keiichi get?”

Rika snapped back to reality, and felt almost ashamed to admit she didn’t consider it. They hadn’t decided to plan it in advance, so the winner had to be the one to decide — but, while usually she’d have a lot of choices, right now she couldn’t think of anything. Keiichi was staring at her suspiciously, and she only smiled apologetically at him.

“I’ll come up with one after the performance,” she explained finally.

“What? You cannot do that, that’s boring,” Shion protested, but her sister only shrugged.

“That’ll do it, I guess— Oh?”

Mion’s eyes suddenly stopped with surprise right in front of her; and, as such, everyone in the club followed her gaze. They seemed to be fixated on the silhouette of a woman a few meters away — probably in her thirties, she had long green hair, darker than Mion’s, tied into a single braid and a lost look on her face as she looked right and left, as if searching for someone. Rika had no idea who this was, but Mion’s face brightened into a smile, so she seemed to be an acquaintance of her.

“Natsumi!” She finally exclaimed, and the woman turned around. When she noticed Mion waving at her, she smiled back and quickly trotted towards them.

“Mion,” she said, softly. “It’s… nice to see you.”

“You too! Glad you could make it. According to your mom, it wasn’t certain you would, huh?”

“Um,” Rena interrupted. “Mii?”

Mion blinked back at Rena, then finally realized that the rest of the group looked at her with confused faces. She scratched her head.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve met Natsumi already, didn’t you? She’s a distant relative from the Kimiyoshis. Used to live in Okinomiya back when we were kids, but she moved about a long time ago. She still dropped by here a few times before?”

“Ah!” Shion exclaimed. “Right, right, of course. My apologies, Kimiyoshi, my memories can be pretty bad.”

Natsumi, it seemed, didn’t seem offended in the slightest, and simply smiled.

“It’s all right. And I’m Natsumi Toudou now.”

“Oh that’s right! Don’t think I’ve ever met your husband before. Is he here?”

“He is,” she confirmed, and her face cleared with adoration right away. “Akira and I came here with some friends too. Although, it wouldn’t have been possible if not for Detective Ooishi.”

“Ooishi?” Keiichi repeated. “You know that old fart too?”

Natsumi appeared surprised by his vulgarity and stared at him with wide eyes, as Rena shushed him right away with a ‘Be more polite!’

“Natsumi is friend with a cop lady who’s an old buddy of Ooishi, apparently,” Mion explained for her. “Or, er, something like that, I think?”

“Detective Minai, yes. So, Mr. Ooishi is the one who guided us here…”

“How generous of him,” Mion snorted, not trying to disguise the thorns in her voice. Even after all this time, she still wasn’t fond of the man. “Always ready to help the ones in need, huh, that old guy.”

“Of course I am. What kind of person would I be to abandon a charming young lady in need like Mrs. Toudou?”

Each member of the group jumped and turned around; and sure enough, the said old fart was here — almost the same sleazy gaze and appearance he always had, too, even if the last few years had clearly taken a toll on him, and that he now had to use a cane to help him move around. Right behind him stood Akasaka, who seemed to be carefully observing his friend as though he was afraid of him tumbling down at some point — but he still managed to sparse a soft smile to Rika, who responded in kind.

“Oh, Detective!” Natsumi exclaimed. “I was wondering where you were…”

“Oh, worried for me, Mrs. Toudou? Nahaha, I’m flattered, but unfortunately I am not interested in married women; they’re too much troubles.”

“Wha—” The woman turned bright red. “Th-That’s not what— I mean—”

“He’s only messing with you, do not mind him,” Akasaka helped, throwing a glare at Ooishi who chuckled. “You should stop teasing her like that, or else I’m going to report it to Ms. Minai.”

“Ohh, scary, scary! You’re right, I apologize then.”

“We’ve just came across Mr. Toudou and two of your friends, I believe. They seemed to be looking for you, so I think you should go back to them.”

“O-Oh, right, I should do that! Thank you!”

Natsumi seemed to be about to run off, but right before then she stopped, and turned towards Mion again.

“We’ll stay here for a few days, but I just wanted to say… I’m really grateful to be able to be here for this festival right now. My grandmother loved Watanagashi and Hinamizawa very much, and she was right — this really is a beautiful place.”

Mion grinned, but it was Keiichi who answered for her this time, voice full of pride: “You’re right! Drop by anytime, Hinamizawa’s open to all!”

She smiled, and then allowed one glance at Rika this time.

“I’ll be sure to watch your performance as well. Thank you for welcoming me here.”

Rika nodded a little confusedly, and then with one last good bye to Mion, Natsumi finally ran off. She wasn’t sure why she’d taken the pain to specifically say this to Rika; but maybe her status as the priestess of Oyashiro tended to have this effect on people, even those who weren’t all that familiar with the region’s customs.

“Seems like you did a lot of good work this year again,” Ooishi mused, looking around pensively. “Last time I came it was… six years ago? And even then, there wasn’t as many tourists. You’ll easily beat Tokyo’s festivals if you keep on like this.”

“If that’s a challenge, Detective, then I’ll accept it!” Keiichi exclaimed, and Ooishi chuckled.

“I haven’t been a ‘detective’ in decades, so maybe it’ll be time for you kids to stop calling me that.”

“You’ll always be Detective to us,” Rena replied. “You’ll be one to me, at least.”

“Aw, would you see that. Always the one with the sweetest words, Ms. Ryuuguu. Right, speakin’ of, is your small enterprise going well in Okinomiya? Heard from Kuma that you’re doing quite some competition to the police; people prefer coming to you rather than the cops to solve problems and cases.”

Rena flushed a little, rolling one strand of orange hair around her finger. “That’s not true… I’m just doing some detective work here and there, but that’s not much.”

“And always as modest as ever, huh.”

It wasn’t as much modesty as it was the truth; technically speaking, Rena was only the editor and publisher of a small town independent magazine, but somehow one thing leading to another she’d also ended up doing quite some detective work at her lost hours. Some even called her a private detective here and there, even if that wasn’t how she marketed herself.

“Ah… by the way, aren’t Miyuki and Yukie with you?” Rika asked then, noticing only the presence of the two men around.

“They decided to make a round of the festival just the two of them,” Akasaka replied. “But don’t worry, they won’t miss your performance. Miyuki bought a specific camera for it, even.”

Rika smiled back at him. “I have no doubt about it.”

Behind him, Ooishi seemed to have fallen into an unusual silence; his wrinkled eyes surveying the area, the people having fun, with a melancholic look.

Rika wondered what must be going on in his mind at this moment, as he observed yet again the festival after not having seen it for years now.

She wondered if he felt like he was back twenty years before then, still investigating the curse, on the lookout for the slightest suspicious person or event.

She wondered if he thought back to his friend, the construction manager that had been killed and dismembered.

But she didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking when suddenly his face relaxed and he looked over them — their group of kids who were not kids anymore — because his gaze communicated his thoughts as clearly as the day.

 Thank god that this year, no murder and disappearance will happen.

______________________________________________________________

When Rika descended from the stage at the end of her dance, she was struggling to breathe and her limbs were trembling.

It felt almost strange how exhausted she felt. Back when she was a child, she was never this tired after a performance or training, even when she had troubles to even just lift the hoe. She’d say that she was getting old, but she was only thirty-one, so she refused to admit this to herself.

Some villagers rushed to her side to help her out as well as two of the girls she was mentoring; newcomers of the village, one had who moved in four years ago and the other only last year. They were good at it, too, and seemed very fascinated by Oyashiro and Hinamizawa’s traditions, so Rika was glad to see there were genuine interest in these old customs from a new generation, even non-native.

After drinking some water, she decided she wanted to stay away from the crowd for a little while before she get back to her friends; to breath some fresh air and rest her body a little more, and so she ended up trotting all the way back to the ritual storehouse, which was the only place she knew she’d find time alone.

When she arrived there, she let out a sigh and sat on the rock that stood in front of the shed, contemplating the small, familiar building, with only company the muffled sounds of the cicadas escaping from the forest.

She used to spend so much time in there, alone with Oyashiro’s status, all those rusty torture implements and, occasionally, Hanyuu.

Everyone had always been horrified by such an ominous place, even her own parents despite being part of the Furude family, but it had never been the case for Rika.

To her, it had always been Hanyuu’s home before anything else, and even the bloody instruments scattered around had never been able to taint that sense of comfort she felt in it.

Her reminiscences were cut shorts when she heard a rustling sound from behind.

She jumped back; all of her muscles getting tense and her senses sharply vivid as her eyes narrowed and surveyed the surroundings. For a moment, she contemplated the idea of just running away, maybe screaming for help if needed — until a voice stopped her.

“Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to startle you, Rika Furude.”

The shadows in front of her started moving; and then a figure emerged. A woman — older than Rika, most likely, with long, fair hair, wearing skinny pants and high heels and a long hat. It should be completely impossible to tell her identity in the dark like that, not when Rika couldn’t even tell the colour of her hair, but somehow she still recognized her immediately.

She knew that voice, that way of talking, of moving. She wasn’t a person she was intimate with, but despite this she was pretty sure she’d be able to tell her apart anywhere.

“Takano?”

The name escaped her before she could really register what that person being there truly meant, and when she did, her blood froze in her veins and her breath got stuck in her throat.

“The one and only,” the woman said, and if there were any doubts about her identity before, that very specific cheeky and seducing tone she’d always employed confirmed it. “Although I just go by Miyoko now. It’s been a long time.”

Rika was simply so stunned that she couldn’t respond anything to this. How was she even supposed to react to that?

She hadn’t seen Miyo Takano ever since that infamous day where they defeated her and she left in Jirou Tomitake’s care. The man had come to them a few days afterwards, giving them a vague update about her situation being ‘stabilized’; that he was now ‘in charge of her’ and that they didn’t need to worry about her anymore. And then both of them had promptly disappeared from Rika’s life.

Even though Irie had said he had cut all ties with their organization, she always had some suspicions that the doctor might’ve still been sporadically in contact with Tomitake — but she had never asked, and he never told her, so it was more of an unspoken secret between them than something actually concrete.

And as far as Rika was concerned, it was perfectly fine by her to not know, too.

Miyo Takano was the person directly responsible for her hundred years of suffering.

She’d tortured her and her friends and forced her to experience so many horrific things that she still suffered nightmares from even now. She’d mercilessly massacred an entire village in countless other fragments. She’d killed both of Rika’s parents.

She was her murderer.

Rika had let her go twenty years ago, wasn’t interested in making her pay for that or taking revenge. As long as she could live her happy, peaceful life with her loved ones, the rest didn’t matter. But she certainly wasn’t interested in playing nice or having any contact with her, either.

Of course, she was aware that this Miyo Takano — or Miyoko — in front of her was technically not responsible for most of those things.

This fragment’s Miyo Takano had not killed or tortured her, she had not massacred the entirety of Hinamizawa. But that didn’t mean Rika was just fine with her, she’d always tended to be a pretty grudgeful person.

Oyashiro forgave that woman because she was a god, but her priestess was only human and had no intention to.

With all of this, an anger she’d thought asleep for decades suddenly resurfaced — and she felt lost, confused, and frustrated.

Why was this woman dared to show up here, right now, in front of her? Who did she think she was?

“I know what you must be thinking,” Takano started again. “‘What nerves does this old lady has to come to me after all that happened’, right?”

Somehow, the fact she seemed very aware of how surreal and out of place her impromptu visit was made it all the way worse, and Rika’s irritation completely overridden her shock.

“You’re fucking right I am,” she spat out. “How the hell did you think I’d react? Welcoming you with arms wide open? I let you go back then, but that doesn’t mean—”

“I know that,” Takano replied, voice firm, confident; just like she always used to speak back then. “I wasn’t expecting you to. I wasn’t—”

“Then what? What are you doing here, exactly? I swear, if you don’t answer quickly I’m going to yell and make sure to bring everyone here to kick your ass.”

She’d expect such a menace would take effect, but instead it seemed to completely shut down Takano. She got silent, and Rika thought she was staring at her; but it was hard to tell in the dark.

“She came because she wanted to see you.”

Another, masculine voice resonated from behind Takano. The woman didn’t startle at this, but she turned around a little jerkily, as if she’d known the other presence’s but hadn’t expected them to intervene.

“Wait, I told you—”

“You leave me no choice if you refuses to explains yourself to her properly, Miyoko.”

And then, right at the woman’s side, a man appeared in turn; and for a moment Rika felt herself going back in time — because the man she used to know as ‘Jirou Tomitake’ has almost not changed at all in those two decades. Of course, he did look a bit older; a few more wrinkles here and there, hair starting to turn grey (as much as she could see of them, anyway); and his camera and casual photographer clothes were nowhere to be seen. His soft, friendly smile, however, was just the same as Rika remembered.

“Hello, Rika. You’ve grown up to become quite a beautiful woman.” He sounded smoother than he used to be. More confident. Less awkward. Maybe it was an effect of old age, or maybe it was thanks to whatever must’ve happened to him and Takano after they left the village. Who knows.

“And you’ve become old,” Rika retorted, still on edge, angry. “What are you doing here? ‘Wanting to see me’ is not an answer. It honestly doesn’t makes sense. Why would you come all the way here after so many years just to ‘see’ me?”

She heard Takano sighing, and the couple exchanged a glance — are they still a couple? Hard to say like that. Tomitake seemed to throw at her an encouraging look, and Takano stepped forward, pulling some of her blonde strands behind her ears. Rika took a step back instinctively.

“I… Listen, I know you’re suspicious, and that makes sense,” she said. “You have every right to be—”

“You’ve tried to kill me and my friends and this entire village.” Rika took a shaky breath, then added, in a softer voice: “You’ve killed my parents.”

This is strange that even in this darkness, Rika was able to clearly see the flash of guilt and regret across the woman’s face. It somehow managed to anger her even further.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to apologize or some bullshit like that,” she snapped, her voice cold. “Because I won’t hear it. You don’t get to—”

“I won’t,” Takano stated, and Rika closed her mouth.

There was something in the way she just said it that made her freeze.

“I’m not… I didn’t come to apologize to you, or to anyone,” she continued. “Not because you don’t deserve it, or because I don’t feel sorry, but because— I’m aware any apologies I could make would only ring hollow. It would mean nothing to you and fix nothing. I know.”

Rika stayed quiet, because yes, she was absolutely right. Takano’s regrets or apologies would hold no meaning to hundred years of suffering, to her parents’ death. She had no need for it.

“It is… simply like what he said. I just… wanted to see you. See Hinamizawa, once more. I just—”

She swallowed, and then her gaze looked around, through the forest.

“It is pretty amazing, how everything stayed the same and changed so much at the same time. I spent so much time studying this village and analysing every bit of it… and yet, I feel like this is the first time I’ve really been able to see it. As it truly is.”

She sounded so contemplating, so… serene, that weirdly enough, despite the anger, Rika let her speak.

“I’ve heard… that Irie managed to canalize the syndrome. And that… you’ve emptied the ritual storehouse, too. Got rid of all the torture instruments.”

“…Yes. Some have been stored in a museum of a neighbouring city. Only Oyashiro’s status and the proper equipment we use for Watanagashi remains in there. We decided it was… time to leave this dark history of Hinamizawa in the past.”

It happened a few years after Rika ended the loops, when she’d just started college. It had created quite the fuss, especially amongst the elderly. Some had fought them on the topic, but in the end, it was decided this wasn’t something that should be kept hidden like that, and that it was harmful for the future of the village.

It didn’t mean they just wanted to erase Hinamizawa’s history, even the more bloody one — they only wanted to put this particularly page of their history in the past. Let bygones be bygones. Let this trauma of the past where it belongs to finally moves on properly.

“And I’ve… also heard that you’ve been travelling around the world.”

“Yes…”

Takano breathed in once again, and Tomitake reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. Rika didn’t know if that gesture was meant to be one of comfort or something else.

“That’s good,” Takano finally concluded. “That’s… how it all should be.”

“…It is.”

Takano nodded, then once again stared at the ritual storehouse behind Rika. She didn’t know if it was the moon or Takano’s feelings, but something wistful seemed to shine in her eyes.

“She must be proud, too. That god.”

______________________________________________________________

In the end, she never really understood what Takano had wanted to do by coming here, but maybe it didn’t matter much.

It seemed important to her, but to Rika, it was only one slight incident in the big parcour that was her life. She hadn’t even tried to see if Takano and Tomitake had stayed around afterwards, of if they’d left immediately — but, somehow, she had the feeling that they wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore after that.

Whatever life this woman Miyoko had built for herself in the last decades, it was far away from here and her sins, and it was likely for the best.

Rika shook away her thoughts as she tried to discretely entangles herself from Satoko’s arms and get away from Keiichi’s foot.

After leaving Takano and Tomitake, she’d rejoined the group and they’d decided to yet again start another new game. Sakiko had fell asleep already and been left in the care of her uncle as planned, meanwhile their game had quickly devolved into an alcoholic one and, as most of them ended up completely drunk, they’d just decided to crash at Rika and Satoko’s place until the morning.

Their little home was a bit cramped with all seven of them sleeping in there, but at least none of them were guaranteed to get cold during the night — and it wasn’t the first time they’d done this anyway.

As Rika stepped outside the room, she couldn’t help but smile fondly while watching them all sleeping soundly; Satoshi, Shion and Satoko were all bundled up together, Rena was using Keiichi’s stomach as a pillow while being spooned from behind by Mion. She closed the door softly behind her, walking like a cat.

It felt oddly cold tonight, and she almost regretted not bringing a sweater with her. Even she didn’t turn back and kept walking determinedly in front of her, not disturbed in the least by the complete darkness surrounding her except for the moonlight.

Finally after about ten minutes, she arrived at her favourite place; the one overlooking the entirety of the village with the most beautiful view of the landscape. She could still remember being six years old and dragging Akasaka up here, prophetizing her own death to him.

Hanyuu had been the one to show her this place.

She leaned on the railing as a gust of wind made her blue hair and her pink nightgown flutter in the air. Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out the scenery even amongst the darkness, spotting all the little lights in the middle of the night’s blackness that were still turned on.

Her home, her prison, her graveyard — Hinamizawa, Onigafuchi, the village of demons.

Takano’s words from earlier still echoed in her mind, each one filled with grief and melancholy.

“…Hello, Hanyuu. How have you been? Sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while.”

Except for the dead silence of the night and the cry of the cicadas, there was no answer — but Rika didn’t let this bother and continued to speak, her voice barely a whisper.

Even if there had been someone, they wouldn’t have been able to hear her unless they’d been right besides her.

“Things changed a lot since… you’ve been gone, but somehow, they also haven’t. It’s all very odd. I’ve seen all kinds of marvellous and incredible things all over the world, and all of us have grown up, and it feels like nothing will ever be the same and at the same time that nothing will change.”

She took a deep, shaky breath.

“…It’s a little confusing, sometimes. A little lonely and frightening. Sometimes… I wonder if you might’ve been right. About no trying harder to get past that summer. It was easier in a way, to be stuck in that loop and know everything that was going to happen in advance. I don’t have that chance anymore. But… that’s how it should be. And I’m strong, and I’m not all alone, so I’m doing fine, all things considered. So… in the end, I’m still certain I was right, Hanyuu. The future past that eternal summer of Shouwa 53… is wonderful. I’m glad to be there…”

She leaned onto the railing; her fingers tightening around the old, decrepit wood.

“But I miss you too, sometimes.” She looked up at the moon. “She’s right though, isn’t she? You have to be proud… Of us, of the village, of… me.”

There was still no reply, of course. Hanyuu hadn’t been there for her in years; she hadn’t heard he voice in decades.

But she felt like she was right in believing so; felt as if a little voice was nodding along with her.

She thought back to Akasaka and his family and their quiet support, she thought back to Rena and Keiichi’s encouragement, about the other club members’ strength, about Satoko’s love.

Oyashiro wasn’t here anymore, Hinamizawa was moving on from the past, and everything was evolving — but she would be fine. They would be fine.

This is what she’d always desired since she got murdered for the first time all those years ago at the age of eleven, and she would trade it for nothing in the world.

Her fingers were cold, but she slowly took out her notebook she’d hidden in her dress with a pen and opened it under the light of the moon, resplendent against the white paper.

The pages were still blank for now; she hadn’t been able to fill them up even in the whole week she’d been here.

But she felt a bit more inspired now. Maybe it was Watanagashi’s magic.

She couldn’t help but remember the last poem she’d penned right after breaking the curse, the words still ingrained in her head even though she’d burnt the whole thing immediately after.

For me, that is about a hundred year’s worth.

For you, a thousand year’s worth.

She still hadn’t earned back her hundred year’s worth of happiness, but she felt she was on the good path for it.