Chapter Text
An open window wasn’t a strange sight. The humid air inside was stagnant, and trying to sleep with the window closed had Satoko squirming all night long. It wasn’t that the outside air was any cooler, but it at least turned up the lingering dust and aired out the smell of mold.
The insects were unusually quiet that night; she might have found it peaceful if she’d been awake to notice. On the other hand, too deep a silence could have enabled rumination. In that sense, at least she drifted into sleep quicker. Her methods for obtaining a restful sleep had improved considerably. She’d even be proud of herself if it were just a month earlier.
An open window wasn’t a strange sight, in fact it could be useful. No resident of Hinamizawa would think twice about it; that’s how rural life was. Even in less pastoral and forested areas, a swift shadow engulfing the light from the flickering bulbs scattered around the residence wouldn’t cause a stir. The sound of grass rustling wasn’t perplexing. It could have been a grasshopper or a stray gust of wind. A creak of the windowsill? It’s an old house, falling apart by the seams; it’d be odd if there were no signs of wear or tear. It wasn’t a strange sight at all. There was nothing to worry about. Satoko had been through more than enough stress, a good night’s sleep was more than deserved.
Satoko knew very well how her mind enjoyed taunting her, as much when asleep as it did when awake. Monochrome dreams of trying to run with stiff, paralyzed legs and trying to scream with ripped vocal cords greeted her routinely. To prevent waking up in a cold sweat, vision blurred with tears, she learned to expect them and her subconscious self adjusted accordingly. The sound of footsteps crept closer to her physical body, but she remained unfazed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard them before; a simple trick of the mind. Realities swayed towards each other then receded like disoriented waves on a shoreline. This surreal ballroom dance of her states of consciousness was only blending truths together to unnerve her.
Just the sight of Satoko’s peaceful sleeping state could fill one with ease. She snored like a kitten, sprawled across her futon with her blanket covering only a third of her body. Plump, flushed skin was exposed through the popped buttons on the pajama top she had begun to outgrow. Her soft belly poking through was really more of a cause for concern than her bare neck, angled towards the moonlight peeking through the window. Catching a cold was much more likely than any horrific scenario she could come up with in an anxious state. And yet, her senses took note of the shuffling of fabric on her collarbone. But any warning was futile.
First, a chill. Like pressing cold metal to warm skin. Blindingly bright white lightning stabbed an icy sensation through the darkness of her headspace. Then, a prickle. Like the acupuncture treatments her mother would get. The strike of lightning exploded into hundreds of miniscule spikes in a variety of colors, like confetti made of needles. Finally, a deep, piercing, agonizing pain.
The needles stretched to impossible distances and widened, flashing lights and colors in a dizzying array of torment.
It infiltrated her, consumed her, overtook her. Excruciating pain shot up into her skull. She squirmed in place, paralyzed in both mind and body as if prey of a parasitic wasp.
And, as swiftly as it began, it was over. The needles shrank back and their flashing colors dulled into muted tones. Her pain was similar to that of a somewhat sharp cramp. An image of a dusky, clouded moon appeared in her dreamscape.
Dead silence. Numbed senses and a steady heart. The insects seemed to have started their nightly chorus back up. Slow and relaxed breathing in, out, in, and out again.
Heavy, mismatched footsteps. A soft thump. A foreboding creak.
A loud, LOUD crash.
Clanging and clattering.
Suddenly, Satoko shot wide awake, sweat dripping down her neck.
“Who’s there?!” she shouted, voice cracking midway. No response. Up on her feet, she cautiously scampered over to the direction of the noise: the window.
Even Satoko could admit her traps weren’t always perfectly designed. She could have accidentally caught some sort of animal. It had never happened before, but it surely could…
She peered through the rather high first-story window. Everything further out was pitch black. Trees obscured the gentle light from the moon. With shaking fingers placed on the windowsill, she inhaled and leaned over.
…
It took a second for her eyes to fully register the scene she was looking at. Not because of any sort of obfuscated view; it was near the house so she could see it perfectly in the yellow-tinted light of the hanging outside lamps. It was rather that the scene was so strange that her brain couldn’t accept it.
It was… a girl. A girl that seemed about her age with long, silky hair and petite features. And she was laying face-down on the grass in a nightgown, captured in the intruder trap Satoko had set up around the house.
With no hesitation, Satoko hoisted herself through the window and fell onto the rough, dirt ground. She took a second to recover, then scrambled to her feet and grabbed the girl’s shoulder.
“H-Hello, are you all right?” she said in a quivering voice.
The girl groaned ever so slightly, as if she was waking up from a nap. Satoko turned her around and began frantically wiping dirt off her peaceful-seeming face. The contrast of the soft skin of her cheek and the dirt she’d caked it in stunned Satoko. Even in this filthy state, this girl was like an angel.
It hit Satoko that if there were a girl as striking as this living in even Okinomiya then she definitely would have run into her at some point. But as the girl’s eyes slowly opened, staring at Satoko with a shining violet gaze, it was as if she’d found an alien that had crash landed on Earth.
“...Meep…” the alien girl squeaked.
Satoko blinked. “M…Meep?” That was all she had to say?
“...Meep,” she said again. Her eyes were big, unblinking, staring right at Satoko. A tiny hand slowly found its way onto a lock of blond hair. Its fingers waded gently through the strands before it tightened its grip and tugged, like a baby practicing fine motor skills.
Satoko blinked rapidly, mouth ajar and jaw trembling. “I-I… Um… Who– are you?” she managed.
The girl’s hand dropped from her hair and landed on her neck. Satoko flinched as she gently caressed two fresh red marks. The girl opened her mouth to say something before her eyes went wide.
“...Oh. It… seems that I’ve done this. Oh, no… it’s been a while,” she muttered, slurring her words. Her fingers continued to rub back and forth as Satoko winced.
The girl slowly moved her gaze up to Satoko’s face and her fingers stopped. She was shaking, eyes closed, cheeks a feverish red, chest rising and falling at the pace of a rabbit’s kicks. She was a young prey animal, curious and mystified enough to investigate up close but not so inexperienced that she’d let her guard down. But, she didn’t run away.
The girl backed away from Satoko, hair a mess across her face and shoulders. She looked at her feet. Knotted ropes bound both of her ankles. She looked to her right. Pots and pans and washbasins were scattered along the ground. Those must have given her quite the shock.
“O-Oh, here, allow me to help you,” Satoko said, quickly moving to untie the ropes. “I’m terribly sorry, this wasn’t meant to trap any passersby. Are you hurt?” The girl didn’t say anything, she just stared at Satoko’s hands as she worked.
With the initial shock worn off, a subtle uneasiness began to fill Satoko, amplified by the sudden stinging pain in her neck. She had only ever trapped her “family” before, even Satoshi once, but never had anyone else been close enough to the side of the house to be ensnared– all that was on that side was the forest. Why would this mysterious girl come so near? Was she lost? Who was she?
She wasn’t able to ponder these questions much further as her mind was overwhelmed by the harsh throbbing on the side of her throat, only deciding to make itself clear after being irritated. But she had definitely felt this before, when her consciousness took a break. The thin bursts of spinning and flashing colors invaded her vision once again. Where did this wound come from? When did everything suddenly become so strange?
Satoko, dazed, had finally freed the girl from her rope shackles. She wobbled to her feet, like how Satoko would try to move after spinning in exactly one hundred circles to impress her brother.
Satoko cleared her throat as the girl surveyed her surroundings, now at a higher level.
“Excuse me, I don’t know what’s going on, but… could you at least tell me your name?” Satoko said gently.
The girl looked her dead in the eyes and paused. “...It’s Rika.”
Satoko’s eyebrows furrowed. Rika? Isn’t that…
“...Can I stay for the night?” Rika took a slow, teetering step forward. “I’m sorry I drank your blood.”