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Previous fragments were bygone dreams. As such, an average person typically forgot them within moments of waking up. For Satoko, it was a half-truth. She discarded old Hinamizawas in search of her perfect world, but remembered the precise details, as if writing a continuous outline. Depending on the circumstances, and knowing each Hinamizawa was different, they still followed a relatively simple pattern to understand and manipulate, such as Ooishi stringing along Keiichi or Rena.
In this Hinamizawa, it was Rena in that air-conditioned patrol car, and the dominoes were falling toward a fiery demise. As Rena listened, and Satoko observed from behind the school, Satoko sensed the conversation. More likely than not, he was informing her about the transgressions of the Sonozaki family. They weren’t at a point where Keiichi’s prior crimes were relevant, yet.
She straightened, patting her fanny pack. The syringe and vial were stored safely on her person at all times. The two whom she deliberated injecting needed to be separated before she administered the dosage. She was tempted to prick Ooishi’s neck, watching his smug expression twist in wrath as he demanded the truth, only to sigh.
Satoko was called a witch, and thus, she was affiliated with the ailment that slew witches.
At least, Eua insisted as such, but she believed her boredom stemmed from frustration.
Her clues and hints were almost too on the nose. She laid her soul bare, delivering to her opponent the truth on an olive branch. But Rika looked everywhere else except in Satoko’s eyes. She flitted from right to left, as if there was an invisible roadblock, without ever realizing it was Satoko. The words she uttered, the offers she gave, Rika was just not listening when Satoko tried guiding her on the proactive path.
It was as if Rika preferred the tragedy, instead of stopping to reflect.
But Oyashiro-sama pursed her lips. Simmering in resentment was not going to reward her. Her peaceful days were not going to be earned by simply rolling the die. Rika may have trusted her throwing hand, but Satoko enforced the die to abide by her will. As the deity who controlled the curse, Satoko felt she needed to hold Rika’s hand, guiding her poor, misguided miko to understand the depths of her condemnation and sin.
More indicators were required. The goal of the game was to ensure Rika understood that their peaceful days in Hinamizawa were necessary. Looking beyond what nature granted them, seeking more than what Rika’s heart desired, was an affront to Oyashiro-sama, who wept alone, who endured the burden of Rika’s dream while Rika soared.
As the doors opened, creaking against the cries of the cicadas, she idly maneuvered toward the school’s outhouse. She slipped inside, waited with the door cracked, and watched Ooishi drive off. Rena waved, and then, she trudged away from the school, swinging her bag.
Stepping out, Satoko yawned into her palm. Right now, Rena was on the road home. Once there, she was going to start making dinner for her father. All of the housework was given to Rena, while he sat on their wealth and smiled.
Her incisor caught on the inside of her cheek. At least, in this world, her uncle hadn’t returned. Pretending to enjoy his company was like living in squalor, constantly checking to ensure she was not in his crosshairs. Even in a world where he was not going to invade her quiet life, her body shivered as if she was defending her brother’s room, bearing the brunt of his brutality.
She pinched her nails into her palms, biting her skin. The strain in her tendons grounded her, and she smelled the fresh, earthy scents of the neighboring woods. Closing the door behind her, she brushed down her dress shirt, her heart increasing its tepid rhythm as her beloved finally retreated from the school.
Rika trotted with her chin tucked to her chest. She nearly collided with Satoko, who quickly caught her bicep. As Rika gasped, Satoko plastered on a concerned look, knowing the details.
Rika’s shock swapping for saccharine cheer couldn’t conceal her pallid complexion.
“Mii! Sorry to keep you waiting, Satoko. My conversation with Chie took longer than expected.”
“Hm? About what? You look-” She cocked her head. “-perturbed.”
Shifting her gaze to the trees, Rika wouldn’t have noticed the way Satoko’s brows knitted together.
“Well, Rena has acted strangely,” Rika said, her chosen words beguiling for all else but Satoko, “so I wanted to ask Chie why Ooishi had taken Rena out of class.”
“Really? I suppose it was rather strange. They were talking for the rest of the day. Why, they were still here when I was wrapping up my cleaning duty.”
They trekked on, basking in the setting sun. Scarlet and violet streaks enmeshed across the sky, welcoming dusk. Silence stretched through the rice paddy fields. Rika’s hands dropped, and her fingers ghosted against Satoko’s knuckles. They retreated, as if she caressed a hot stove, and Satoko grasped her limp hand, gently squeezing the twitching digits.
“Say, Rika, you’re clearly distressed. Is what you talked about with Chie upsetting you, or are you worried for Rena-san?” She softened her voice, a tone only for Rika. “Whatever is troubling you, you can talk to me.”
She swallowed, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s something that sounds unbelievable.”
“Yes? What is it?”
Rika drew in a breath, holding it in her chest. The sun was a crown behind her head, casting her face in shadows. Satoko’s lungs compressed, awed by such a holy sight, but Rika shook her head.
“Can we make dinner first? I’ll tell you while we eat.”
Rika tugged away. Her fingers traced down Satoko’s palm, her touch featherlight. Satoko watched as Rika walked onward, and her own fingers curved into white-knuckled fists.
Although Rika will break another promise, eating their homecooked stew with a warm, unconvincing smile, Satoko matches her joy when Rika once again reaches for her hand underneath the table.