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Palms tightened against the handle of the shovel, calluses raw from the ever repetitive motion. Strike, push, lift, throw. The deeper the dirt the heavier it felt. Hiruko gritted her teeth through the pain, the silence between her and Takumi filled with the sound of grave desecration.
The night air was cold and stagnant. Loose dirt in the air made it difficult to breathe and see. They couldn't afford to slow down or take a break, not when the stakes were this high.
"We have to do this. She fought valiantly to protect all of us in this timeline."
She couldn't stop the quiver in her voice. Darumi would forgive them. They were only doing this so she could be saved in another timeline. There was no saving this Darumi. That's what it came to, didn't it? This version, that version. Every instance of Darumi was a part of her; and Hiruko loved every moment of her.
Her gaze was met with empty sockets, a void that would swallow her up if she allowed it to. She wanted to look away. To look anywhere but at the mummified remains of the girl she loved. Her once soft skin was now shriveled and rotten. The only trace left behind of the smile she would draw on was her own bare teeth, the flesh of her cheek having degraded away. It was almost perfect, in its own morbid way.
Darumi could always appreciate the morose and disturbing. Where most would find discomfort, she was endeared towards gorey depictions in video games and other stories she played. She loved watching her favorite characters be tortured. Hiruko didn't understand it, though she empathized with it. Darumi looked at peace. She brushed her knuckles against her rotten cheek.
Poor Takumi looked sick in the face. His fear was written all over his body; his knees were clacking, hands gripping the shovel, and gaze jumping everywhere except for Darumi.
"Her body is the embodiment of all the nobility and sacredness of her protection. It would be rude for us to look away," Hiruko declared. Takumi nodded and looked down at Darumi.
"R-right," he said awkwardly. She shouldn't be too hard on him. It was hard the first time Hiruko regained her memories too. He just wasn't used to all of the bloodshed and death. Hiruko wished she wasn't. To be numb to the ones she loved dying countless times was to lose a part of herself. Loving Darumi meant feeling this pain in her chest every time she lost her. She feared the day it would dry up, and she would be nothing more than another casualty.
That's why they had to survive. They had to find the Livor Mortis codes so they could all live on.
"We're doing this so you can live on elsewhere… So please, forgive us." Hiruko squeezed Darumi's fragile hand. She was so delicate.
How many times had she watched Darumi die? How many times had she been unable to do anything to prevent it… How many times had she sacrificed her life so Darumi could live on? Fate played a cruel trick on them. Either she or Darumi had to give up their life so the other may live.
But what of her Darumi, the Darumi she left back in the Steady Fundamental timeline? Abandoned was a more appropriate word; her Darumi hardly knew her. She certainly wasn't aware of how much Hiruko loved her. There wasn't any time to involve her, not when the stakes were this high. Once she was saved—they were all saved—then Hiruko could finally breathe and let the chaos settle down around her. She could open up to Darumi and court her slowly. (though she knew her well enough to jump right into everything; they only had a few days with each other in most routes). This time, they could take it slow and ease into everything naturally.
If Darumi wanted to, of course. The irony poisoned Hiruko's lips, a bitter reminder that her quest to save all of them would end with her own emotional sacrifice. It wasn't only Darumi that didn't know her. Apart from Takumi, none of them did.
The reality of it all, was that there was a chance Darumi wouldn't want her at all. That they would be strangers exchanging glances from afar, one of confusion and the other of longing. Darumi had every right not to care; she didn't know Hiruko. Her heart felt heavy, aching, sorrowfully swallowing her.
She rested her hand on her lover's waist.
"I'm sorry, Darumi. I'm going to have to move you," Hiruko whispered softly. She wanted to embrace her, to hold her in her arms, but she couldn't. This Darumi would feel none of her love; it was purely selfish to desire. Any excess movement could destroy her body. It was better to stay safe.
Hiruko traced over the digit, just to be sure that she was making out the correct marks. It was dark outside. The faint glow of the satellite wasn't enough to see clearly.
"Does it say five?" Takumi asked.
"Seems so," Hiruko replied. Her fingertips continued to rest upon Darumi's cold corpse. She had been taken too soon. Hiruko maneuvered her back into her resting position. She shoveled dirt on top of her gently like a blanket of earth. Takumi followed suit, not daring to break the silence. There was nothing to say.
Hiruko sat down on the solid ground. Her breaths were quick and light from the digging. She pressed her cheek against the grave stone as if this would let her get closer to Darumi.
"Would you love me if I were a rock?"
"What a peculiar question," Hiruko responded. She gently held Darumi's hair near her scalp so the brush wouldn't tug too hard on the knots near the ends. Darumi always swore she could take it. Her pain tolerance was rather high, something she had built up out of necessity. Hiruko didn't want to do anything that would cause her pain. She already suffered enough. Any moment of softness she could grant her, she would give.
Darumi's hair was so pretty when it was down, such a bright and vibrant blue. It was long enough to rest on the sheets sitting down on Hiruko's bed. Hiruko pushed it away from her neck, and pressed a kiss on the bone which stuck out.
"You said you'd love me if I was a worm, and you'd keep me in a tank until I die. But what if I were just a rock?" asked Darumi.
"Are we assuming you have been turned into a rock, or you were a rock the entire time?" Hiruko pressed.
"Is your answer different?!" Darumi exclaimed, startled. She whipped her head around, hair spinning around her in a sweeping motion.
The hypotheticals were always strange. But there was always some sort of deeper meaning to them that could be uncovered. If she could think about it from that perspective, the answers suddenly became easy.
"If you were a rock, I could keep you in my pocket all day. I wouldn't have to worry about crushing you, like if you were a worm. You could go with me everywhere. I could even polish you and wear you as a statement piece to show off," said Hiruko. She took Darumi's arm and kissed her inner wrist. She still smelled like the lotion she put on earlier.
"A statement piece?! Mistress Hiruko would really show me off?" asked Darumi, confused eyebrows pressed together.
"Why wouldn't I? I'd want to show them that you're mine."
Darumi kicked her feet and hid her face in her hands. She wasn't very good at keeping her emotions to herself. It only made her more endearing. Hiruko smiled fondly at her.
Hiruko bit down on her cheek. There was no reason to sit around; they'd miss the window to jump. She couldn't afford to waste time fixating on the past. If she stopped to mourn, she'd be here until the flames razed the planet. Her heart wept regardless. She envied the others who knew nothing of the deaths of their friends. They didn't have to watch the ones they loved die countless times. The memories would stick with her forever.
She loved Darumi. She needed her, needed something to hold on to. Her fingers plunged into the dirt where she sat. She pulled up a small stone, a bit lumpy and peculiar. She squeezed it into her palm, until it left divots in the flesh.
It was silly; she hadn't really been turned into a rock. Not into the gravestone, nor the one in Hiruko's hand. The Darumi from her timeline was still alive, and the one who lay here deceased wasn't the one who prompted that silly conversation. Every version was starting to blend together. Hiruko's sentimentality was nothing but a moment of weakness. If she wasn't careful, she'd let her emotions swallow her whole.
She pocketed the rock.
Best not to fight it. She already sacrificed so much. It meant something to her, even if no one else understood it. Darumi would, and that's all that mattered.
"Thanks, Darumi," said Takumi softly.
"Rest in peace," Hiruko added. She rubbed her palm against the gravestone once more, before departing.
Hiruko was up before the sun was, but morning was never her target. The hallways were dark at this hour, and still she roamed around until she found what dwelled in the night.
Only a few days left… She couldn't help herself. She had to talk to her.
"Whoa! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Darumi exclaimed. She clutched her chest and rocked her head back and forth before sticking her tongue out. "We should put a bell on you so you can't sneak up on us!"
Such a casual tone, no hint of affection, or care, or anything else she had come to associate with her Darumi. Hiruko crossed her arms. This was a mistake.
"You'd be mistaken if you think you could collar me," she said jaded. Darumi twirled herself in a circle.
"Yeah, you don't seem like the type to get owned. You're too busy being broody and mysterious. But you gotta watch out, 'cuz those characters usually die in the killing games!"
Her comment made Hiruko smile a little. At least Darumi had an opinion of her, even if it was silly.
"Oh? As if I'd let that happen," Hiruko scoffed playfully. It had happened, in fact. Too many times for her to be this cocky about it. But Darumi didn't need to know that.
"It wouldn't be in your control," said Darumi. "Sometimes stuff happens and you just can't narratively stop it, no matter how hard you try. Man versus fate, or whatever. It makes a good story."
And such was her fate, to have saved her beloved but at the cost of her memory. She had to get going; she couldn't spend too long here.
Darumi also meant to take leave, and ran past her, bumping into her slightly. Her rock fell from her pocket before Hiruko could even react. The noise alerted Darumi. She bent over and picked it up.
"Hiruko, what's this?" Darumi asked.
"It's nothing," lied Hiruko, nothing more. They were no more than acquaintances.
"Can I keep it then?" asked Darumi. "It looks kinda cool."
"If it makes you happy, you may have it," said Hiruko. Darumi looked at the rock, then back at Hiruko. She handed it back to her.
"Why?"
Darumi shrugged.
"I feel like you need it more than I do," she said. Darumi yawned. "It can be your pet."
"My pet?"
"Something to take care of, like a tamagotchi except it's really easy because it doesn't need anything."
Hiruko reached out to pat the top of Darumi's hair, then stopped. They weren't close like that, not here.
Darumi could tell she was lonely. Hiruko squeezed the rock in her hand.
"I think… I will."