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Summary
Natsuno should be ash and dust. He should have burned with the rest of that village that was a grave. He should be pulverized flesh melting into dirt with a hundred other bodies.
Instead, he’s whole and awake. Natsuno sits up from his bed in his family’s house in Sotoba, which he hasn’t lain in since his death. His windows are closed and only thin streaks of morning light make it through the shutters. He feels his fangs in his mouth, in their unexpressed position, hidden behind the regular set of teeth.