Chapter Text
Que veut-on que je recommence ?
Je ne demande désormais
A la création immense
Qu'un peu de silence et de paix !
( Wherefore now bid me recommence ?
To hope, to work, alike I cease ;
Of all creation's wealth immense,
Silence alone I ask, and peace. )
— Victor Hugo, “Three Years After”
Both of them would return to the memory over and over at night, searching for any trace, any clue that could have explained or even hinted at what followed. Eyes staring at nothing, they would unroll the events in order again, from the tense atmosphere in the car to the snowy storm outside, the house’s key between Satoshi’s fingers, the resonating silence in the dead hall… They would try to remember their conversation in detail, and curse how their hostile focus on each other prevented them from catching any sign. Divergent hearts would unknowingly unite in regret and confusion. What was the key? How had any of this happened? If only, if only…
But what they refused to call a miracle happened. One moment, Kei was facing Satoshi, responding to his anger with cruel glee; the next, something caught their attention, distracting them entirely from the matter at hand. They both glanced at a nearby door at the same moment, freezing, words lost in sudden indifference. This was the most confusing, in their memory. What had drawn them? Instinct, one thought? Magic, wondered the other? Had someone called? Had she called?
When they pushed the door open – Kei did, to be exact – she was already here. Pale, but alive. Unconscious, but alive. Seemingly in pain, but alive. Alive…
He grabbed her wrist, looking for a pulse, didn’t notice Satoshi briefly squinting at the sight. When the boy kneeled next to him, Kei looked as puzzled as he did. Not as lost, however, as he immediately took matters in his own hands.
“We can’t let her here.”
The cold that had spread in Satoshi’s body refused to leave, however, when he touched her arm, his fingers still felt warmer than her skin. There was absolutely no way they could pretend to not have seen her and leave her on the floor, but where to bring her? She did not exist anymore.
“Find something to cover her.”
The boy complied, snatching one of the sheets that preserved the abandoned pieces of furniture from dust. The woman’s naked body disappeared under the white drape, making him regret his choice instantly. Way too reminiscent of a shroud…
Kei wouldn’t give them time to think: sliding his arms under the frail figure, he lifted her and, in heavy, cautious steps, made his way back. The point of their visit long forgotten, eyes constantly glancing at her immobile face, unable to find a word worth anything in this situation, they returned to the car, placed her on the backseats and drove. If Satoshi wondered about their destination, even worried for a second that it would be the police station, it soon became clear that his adoptive father’s objective was different. Not the police, not Satoshi’s place, obviously not the Hikari residence…
Kei’s apartment. His safe place, his domain… a place Satoshi didn’t know, didn’t want to know. Yet he followed, head made foggy by the unreal events and settings unfolding around him. He couldn’t think properly but, when Hikari Rio’s living body was laid to rest in a bed, when he stayed with her alone, Hiwatari gone god-knows-where to do god-knows-what – perhaps discarding the white sheet, perhaps washing his hands, whatever people did when a deceased person suddenly came back to life – he sat next to her on the bed.
Her lashes remained still, as unmoving as a corpse’s, but her chest said otherwise.
Alive…