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The pain that wracked his lungs was multi-fold as it was familiar. It was a pain of disease, assuredly, though in truth it also spoke of despair. Of a quiet loneliness that festered, the same rot that had tailed his footsteps ever since he’d arrived in this godforsaken town.
He spoke, of course, of Yharnam itself.
Shinsou Hitoshi was not raised of superstitious ilk, but even he had to admit at some turn that there was a strangeness to the place that belied the Healing Church’s desperate assurances. The beasts that stalked the city streets were alone proof enough, as well as the common insanity that had taken hold of the general populace.
They weren’t fond of outsiders, Shinsou had learned soon after his arrival. Nevertheless, he’d hoped against hope their magical blood could heal him. As the days passed into weeks that last frail hope had failed him, too, as his condition deteriorated to the point where he was bound to the temporary quarters he’d acquired for use throughout his treatment, scarcely able to lift a finger before devolving into a coughing fit.
He was going to die, but that was neither here nor there. A dignified end would be fitting enough.
At present, he found himself spending most of his time sitting by the barred window of his room. The fresh air coupled with the sharp odor of burning incense tended to calm his tremors, to lend him some clarity of thought. Shinsou had grown accustomed to the typical Yharnam stench, as it were, which was perhaps the only reason he was able to catch the subtle difference at all, when it came.
Moon-scent.
He froze in his chair on reflex, before releasing a tired huff. Who cared if it was a hunter? He was dying anyway; there was little else left to fear.
On the opposite side of the window, the ominous frame of the hunter loomed. Through the bars, Shinsou thought he could make out the telltale stain of blood and viscera.
He fixed his gaze elsewhere before the sight could further turn his uneasy stomach, and opted for polite conversation. “Oh, you must be a hunter, and not one from around here either. I’m Shinsou Hitoshi, a fellow outsider.”
Shinsou heard the fine shifting of metal and leathers, and the hunter outside took notice of his presence. Likely unused to decent human interaction, the poor sod, but it was no matter. Shinsou was bored, and dying, and anyone would do.
It seemed to take an eternity for the hunter to respond. Shinsou didn’t hold it against him; any time spent in the service of the Healing Church was bound to sap anyone’s brains. “… Kaminari.”
Shinsou leaned forward eagerly. He’d half-expected not to garner a reaction, at all. “Kaminari? You must have had a fine time of it. Yharnam has a special way of treating guests.”
Further movement from outside, as the hunter came so close to the window Shinsou could almost make out his face, were it not for the heavy smoke of his incense. For a moment, Shinsou despised the precaution, even if he wasn’t fool enough to believe he’d survive the night of the hunt without it.
But Kaminari was already speaking, so quickly Shinsou’s disease-addled mind could only scarcely keep up, and he had better things to pay attention to. The hunter’s voice betrayed his youth, and the tension evident within his tone, his fear.
“What is wrong with this place? The people… they’ve attacked me on sight. And there was this beast… “
At that, the hunter trailed off, and Shinsou cursed the Healing Church for true. It was low even for them to send one out who was so young, so inexperienced.
He opened his mouth before he thought better of it. “I don’t think I can stand if I wanted to, but I’m willing to help, if there’s anything that can be done. This town is cursed. Whatever your reasons might be for coming here, you should plan a swift exit.”
They were dangerous words to utter, especially within the presence of someone in the Church’s service. But something made him want to trust this hunter, whether it be as a mere passerby or a final confidant.
More coughs wracked his frame, and he tasted copper on the back of his tongue.
It was a stupid, selfish wish, Shinsou knew. He shouldn’t have sought to rest the burden of his companionship on some chance encounter, and later, he would blame the boredom. Or mayhap the dying. As it stood, he scrambled for reasons to stretch the conversation, and was pleased enough when the hunter gave him one.
“—and perhaps I would have, but I am suffering from these horrible dreams, so I find myself trapped,” Kaminari was saying, disjointed in a way that made Shinsou suspect he’d missed an earlier portion of the sentence. “I know only that I have to seek the Paleblood.”
“Paleblood, you say?” Shinsou choked back another cough as he thought. “Never heard of it. But if it’s blood you’re interested in, you should try the Healing Church. They control all knowledge on blood ministration.”
The hunter proceeded to ask for directions. Shinsou had no idea why, as shouldn’t someone employed by the Church know well its location? And yet, he described the path to Cathedral Ward dutifully enough, making mention of the old grand cathedral, where he’d heard tell the special healing blood was first derived.
He also took particular care to direct Kaminari away from the old broken-down bridge. The townsfolk that passed his small window into the world had heard tell that hunters hadn’t been returning from there, recently. He didn’t wish such a young one to encounter whatever horrors surely awaited.
When Shinsou had divulged all he knew, he was somewhat surprised when the hunter did not immediately turn from his window. Instead, Kaminari lingered, so close Shinsou could make out the fog of his exhale against the glass.
The question, when it came, was soft—as if the hunter were still somehow unsure of his welcome. “Will you be alright here alone, Hitoshi? The beasts are numerous.”
Shinsou didn’t bother hiding his rueful smile. The other couldn’t see it, anyway. “I won’t go out looking for trouble if that’s what you mean. And I’ll keep my incense burning.”
“I wasn’t—” Kaminari started, before cutting himself off. Shinsou heard the delicate sound of a step backward, a booted heel striking cobblestone. “Very well. And thank you.”
Quicker than Shinsou could formulate a reply, the hunter’s footsteps retreated, his form fading from sight. One for action, it seemed, more so than talk.
Shinsou would try not to be too disappointed if Kaminari never returned. He sighed, offering up the same silent prayer he'd let sail past deafened ears one too many times.
...
May the good blood guide your way, hunter.