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“Houjou-san isn’t returning?”
Rika resents the hint of a smile lifting at the corners of her companions’ lips. They surround her in the courtyard, the looming shadow of St. Lucia Academy spreading across neatly trimmed grass and the neighboring, sprawling forest. As prim and proper girls enter the main building, Rika keeps her head high, and avoids the awed, eager expressions of her entourage.
“That’s right. Satoko has decided to attend a different school from here on out.”
“Ah, is that so? I find that to be a shame, Furude-san, especially after she caused you such strife.”
“After all those attempts you offered to assist her in studying, she refused each and every time. I wish she had been able to understand how hard you worked to provide for her.”
“I agree, too. Her grades slipped, and you earnestly tried to bring her back to our esteemed program. It’s ill-mannered to speak about people who aren’t here, and yet, I can’t believe her behavior.”
Rika’s grip tightens on her bag, and the leather handle wrinkles against her palms. Past loops have proven their assertions. Studying has never been Satoko’s strong suit, but for a girl who matches Rika’s abilities, the dutiful task has become like an allergen. It will make her break into red, raw hives, as dreadful as a severe case of Hinamizawa Syndrome. The decades spent learning the material to attend, then fail must have accumulated into such agonizing stress like welts upon Satoko’s brain.
I helped her study. She seemed fine when it was just us two, but adding the girls into the equation…
She permits her thought to end without a conclusion. Rika steps through the welcoming doors, gazing at the grand foyer. The chandelier glimmers, shining with the luminosity and viscosity of fresh blood. Its weight slams upon her, crumpling Rika into a sordid pretzel, and crunching her bones between thin skin. Their bodies are mangled.
She remembers the spot where Satoko and she had perished. It’s directly in the middle of the room, turning the foyer into a stage. They had been observed by girls no doubt scarred in another world. As Rika’s death had been instantaneous, she ponders how shrill they had screeched, or if their volume shattered the windows.
But their deaths carried a purpose no one present would have comprehended. Even now, they cannot fathom the lengths of Satoko’s determination. She had studied, even if the material eluded her, even if she had swatted aside Rika’s hand, even if Satoko sank into deeper despair while the princess in her high castle remained utterly ignorant. Rika, after all, treasured the opinions and adulations of her courtiers.
With girls like them crowding her, the natural question forms in the lingering bloodstains. They never had a genuinely kind word about Satoko. Their attention was and currently is focused on Rika. They value her above all else, placing Rika on a pedestal. They can be likened to the senile seniors of Hinamizawa, praising her without sparing a passing glance to the girl whom they inflicted such brutality.
It is a quiet isolation. It is a separation that Satoko had never wanted, but Rika permitted.
And as she furrows her brow, the slight showing of distress worries her friends.
“Furude-san?”
She plasters on a grin, small and assured. “Don’t mind me. I will miss Satoko, but it’s good for us to have our distance.”
They nod, accepting her words as wise. They try to move forward, but Rika hesitates, unwilling to cross underneath the chandelier. Other girls begin to stare, their whispers not rising to a level where she can understand.
It’s required for loopers. We can’t allow ourselves to become resentful,she thinks, and with a quick exhale through nostrils she hadn’t realized were flared, she paces herself. Otherwise, we won’t be able to meet again. I’ll have to move in a separate direction, and she'll have no choice but to give chase.
Soft, yet callused fingers press against hers. Satoko’s final caress fills her hand entirely. Their vow echoes in the back of Rika’s mind, for although they are eternal, they had been together for eons.
Even so, this is the first time I’ve been away from Satoko. It’s necessary, but in the first place, it was my wish. I wanted Satoko to attend with me and our dreams to be shared without consideration. To not have Satoko by my side-
Click!
-eh?
“Fu-Furude-san! Look out!”
As her heel presses down on the carpet, the floorboard slightly shifts lower. A staggered cry rips Rika away from her contemplation and confusion. A circular shadow crosses her, growing by the second, as if she is once again in the Hinamizawa School. Nostalgia races through her, faster than the incoming attack. Like a gazelle, she leaps, pivoting upon her landing as the wash pan slams where she once stood.
Such a trap is suitable for Keiichi, but Rika has loved Satoko longer than anyone.
While her friends hasten to her side, one demanding to know who tried to harm her, Rika crouches. She plucks the card tied down with a stone and string. With a flick of her finger, the bow comes undone, and holding the plain, unobtrusive gift away from her face, she slowly peels it wide open.
A single, teasing sentence rewards Rika for her dexterity.
Enjoy the rest of the school year, my beloved Rika!
She blinks, re-reading the statement. It almost doesn’t register in her brain, but when it does, she cannot help herself. A giggle escapes Rika, low and crooning. Her friends and fellow students twitch, catching a side of her held private for another.
“What a lovely gift. She knows me so well. I’ll have to thank her.”
And as her courtiers mumble their concerns, Rika rewards them with an appealing smile, which she knows would have made Satoko’s stomach churn.
In the end, the old saying is true. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and her adoration for Satoko soars.