You awoke, but not where you had fallen asleep. Looking across the floor, you could see drag marks in the heavy dust from where you must have been dragged here by Kyoki.
Why was it so blurry?
Is this what insanity felt like?
No– your glasses had been knocked off in your sleep.
Sitting up, you wiped your tired eyes, groping around for your glasses. You would blow the dust off of them before carefully adjusting them on your nose.
It was strange, the quiet. Sure, there was the creaking of the floorboards, but there were no footsteps in the dust
Where was Kyoki?
By now, you knew that Ryuzen was gone, you could see it in his eyes.
Light shone in through the window, dawn had passed long ago, and the sky was bright outside.
Had he decided to not kill you?
Was it time to leave?
You crawled pathetically to the door, you found it hard to stand.
Why weren't your legs working?
Your brain tried to find an answer, but all it found were fragmented memories, the past the present, what did it all mean?
Who were they?
Ryuzen
Miyuki
Kazuki
Kyoki
You?
Searching through was painful, the memories stung like sharp glass knives. You remembered– that was something.
But what was it?
Yes, your legs. You glanced back at them.
No
No
NO
That hadn't been a good idea.
Your legs–
They were–
Bloodied in such a manner you couldn't even see them.
Kyoki.
That's who he was.
He had done this to you.
But why?
Trying to think through insanity does strange things.
He did it so you couldn't leave.
It hit you, cut deeper than any of your shattered memories.
Then, that meant it wasn't time for you to leave.
Your breathing felt heavy, labored, but you would not look back to see how much blood you had lost.
It was strange, it didn't hurt.
Was that from your insanity, your splintered mind?
Or, was this natural—
The not feeling?
Shuffling— you could hear it coming from somewhere behind you.
"Eiko, it's nice to see you."
It was him— that boy — that hurt, shattered boy.
Kyoki.
But why was he like that? You reached out, towards the memories swirling around you. It hurt, it hurt so bad to do such a thing, but you grabbed at a few, the few where you could see his face. But, now you could remember,
And you, you had done that to him.
As quickly as you remembered, you forgot.
Grasping out, it left, left you.
No.
No.
NO.
You wanted to keep the memory, not forget it. But you couldn't.
Everything was going as quickly as it came, but reaching out for the memories, it cut you so deep that you stopped trying, let yourself fall down into the abyss of insanity.
Kyoki? Was that his name?
Yes. It was.
You clung on to that.
That was your last connection back to reality, the last piece that would keep you from going fully into the darkness of insanity. Even as it cut you, trying to escape, it was the last glimmer of light, and you were constantly, constantly falling.
Kyoki laughed—
laughed.
"Seeing you like this, it gives me such joy."
You couldn't respond. You couldn't think, all of your mind, everything, it was so, so wrong, how did it come to this?
"If you had never gone the easy route— never chosen to forget, this wouldn't be happening."
You looked up at Kyoki.
He didn't even know that he was your last piece to hold on to.
I did. That's what made it all the better, all the sweeter. It was me, me you clung onto in your last moments.
You would lay there, helpless, wanting to apologize, to have the right to say your last words, but you didn't deserve it, you didn't deserve to have such a thing.
And there— there he was, Kyoki. He was standing over you, looming, ready to destroy you. But you didn't want to be destroyed, you wanted to be whole.
There was that voice, far, far above you, where you couldn't reach.
It was him, not Kyoki, but Ryuzen, his sweet childish voice calling out to you.
"Mom, I'll always love you."
But would he?
No, he wouldn't.
But if not?
That splintered fragment of Kyoki fought, fought harder to be free.
"I am not yours," it screamed.
But you were trying, trying so hard for him to be yours.
It would cut through your arms, slicing through.
You looked down, but your arms were whole.
Had you been hallucinating?
Yes, you had to have been, such a thing couldn't happen. Memories don't cut, they only cut metaphorically.
Then, was your son really about to kill you?
Had he really cut your legs?
You fought to separate fact from fiction, but you couldn't. Your imagination muddled with the present, mixing into one swirling sea.
Ryuzen approached you, coming closer, closer.
With your last effort, you shoved your arm into the side pocket of your bag, searching, searching for your final apology.
This, this you had to do, even how much it hurt.
You had dug yourself a hole too deep, you knew he would never accept it, even Irina hadn't.
But, you had to, even if it was the last thing you do.
Your fingers grazed the cold metal, the delicate charm.
This too once had belonged to somebody, somebody dear— but you could not remember who. It had once meant something to somebody, that's all that mattered.
Your fingers clutched on, and you jeopardized your grip on the memory of Kyoki, that too, you had now lost.
Nothing was left inside you.
You were empty.
Empty.
Empty.
EMPTY.
You searched, searched inside you as far as you could, but all the fragments, they had ascended into that bright sky, the one you would never reach, and your vision of it closed, blackness blanketing you. You would never find them, never reach them again. Not like you had much time to try.
Pulling out your hand, you let it fall onto the floor, your fist unfurling to reveal the shining shell necklace that meant so much.
He, that stranger, his breath hitched.
"Mom?"
Were you his mom?
But, immediately after he said that, you could see his eyes rage, as if an internal war was ripping him apart from the inside.
"Not mom, Eiko."
You didn't know why, but your heart ached as he corrected himself.
Something was lost now, so far lost.
But wasn't everything lost?
What were you without memories, without emotions, without pain?
You were not living.
You were just existing.
Not for long though.
The boy, the hurt, ruined boy, took the necklace from your palm, his cold, bony fingers brushing yours.
He cried, he cried for what the necklace meant.
You would never know what it meant.
And it hurt, it hurt you so deep, that you couldn't even know, that your life had all escaped you, all your memories, you didn't even know why he was about to kill you.
Then, he stood tall, straightened his shoulders, and stopped his tears. He could not cry, why?— you did not know.
He took out a knife, and he loomed over you.
But, you did not panic. You did not know why, but you didn't struggle.
There was something inside of you, in that shattered, empty void, that screamed, that you had done something to deserve this.
It felt so, so empty, so alone.
The boy, you could see him hesitate as he held up the knife, you could see a light flicker in his eyes.
You had to get him to be confident in his actions, "Don't be scared."
Speaking was hard, but you had done it, pushed through.
And then, the knife.
You wanted to close your eyes, your resolve lost, but as you tried to force your eyelids shut they remained, as if held by some unseen chains. The glint of the knife in the dark was so painful, almost blinding, and to your horror, your eyes tracked each movement.
As you watched it hover over your chest, your throat contracted, you could feel your muscles tensing to scream but nothing came out.
And then you could hear the ear splitting crack as the knife split your bone, rupturing your heart.
The blood—
There was so much, gushing across the floor, filling your mouth, your nose.
You tried to swallow—
Gurgling in your own blood you tried to think, but your mind was growing foggier.
And that drum— the pulsing drum that had accompanied you all your life, where had it gone?
If the beat of a song ends— is it over?
Was your life over too?
Yes, yes it was, you could feel yourself leaving your body.
The very moment your soul lifted, it was so light.
It felt so, so right.
You looked down, and you saw him.
The broken boy.
Kyoki, that was his name.
You could remember all of their names.
Ryuzen
Miyuki
Kazuki
And yours.
Your name.
It was Eiko.
Eiko Yamashita.
So ironic, only in death could you remember.
You remembered everything, what you had done to the children, how they had both died, one in body, one in mind. How you had isolated yourself, and this you had tried to remember, but couldn't.
For the first time, in a long, long time, you could see your life in clarity.
And you thanked him, you thanked Kyoki.
In killing you, he had allowed you to see.
"Thank you, thank you Kyoki."
You hoped he could hear you.