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vaseoflilies · 4 months

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Elysian Fields Chapter 3: Low Key

warning: there is an emotional breakdown, descriptions of injury and body after a coma, and references to torture an: please check this out on AO3 as i have more information regarding this story on there

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Jun began by telling you about herself.

She had a rather sad past, you thought. She had been an only child; her mother was unable to conceive another. This left her alone throughout her childhood. Her father, dissatisfied with not having a son, arranged for her to be married off at the tender age of fifteen to a high-ranking coworker of his.

Her husband was nothing short of abusive. A complete and utter waste of oxygen. Hearing that he was upset because she couldn’t conceive when she was only seventeen had your jaw clenching and your mind whirling with anger. How could someone do that to someone else? You didn’t understand.

She stopped talking about her past when she sensed your anger and decided to concentrate on what you were asking her.

“The Eternal Paradise Faith,” she began, shuffling through a few gray kimonos, “saved me in more ways than one, just like it saved you. I stumbled upon the building after running away from my husband a few years ago. Lord Douma saved me that winter night.”

You smiled softly. Both Dr. Isha and Jun held Lord Douma in high regard, which made you curious: who was he? “Tell me about Lord Douma,” you asked, allowing her to help you into the gray kimono. “He seems like a decent man. He did save me from a bear, after all.”

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you recalled what the other members were wearing. White. The cafeteria was mostly filled with white, like a flurry of snow. You remembered not liking waking up in such a dull color. Was gray any better? But still, did it really matter?

“He’s a man of action,” she chuckled, gathering various hygiene products. “He’s always on the move, leading worship, planning, and orchestrating activities. He’s also a great listener. If a God ever walked the earth, it would be him.”

Wow.

You raised your eyebrow. With those words, the name “Eternal Paradise Faith” became much clearer. You didn’t consider yourself particularly religious, but based on the subtle decorations and mostly plain outfits of the regular members, you assumed it was some sort of Buddhist or Shinto philosophy. You seemed to remember basic knowledge, at least.

As for your feelings about being here? You still felt a sense of unease, and fear continued to creep in, but it was significantly diminished. There was no doubt that you were grateful to be alive. When you saw the state of your leg without the bandage, your heart skipped a beat, and you could swear you felt the sharp sting of the initial wound. Whoever this Douma character was, you knew you needed to express your gratitude to him. After all, it wasn’t as if you planned to stay here indefinitely.

“I’ve been taking care of your hygiene regularly while you were unconscious, so if you need any assistance, please let me know and don’t feel embarrassed,” she said. Her words interrupted your train of thought. Just how much had she taken care of? The idea of her bathing you while you were unconscious made you feel somewhat guilty and uncomfortable, as it involved someone touching you in such a manner. “When you say maintaining hygiene, do you mean…”

“Yes.”

You purse your lips. No wonder she was so kind to you. She had been caring for you so intimately without really knowing whether you would live or die. “Thank you, Jun.”

She gazed at you, her eyes brimming with emotion, and she wrapped you in a gentle embrace. “I was terrified that you were going to die,” she confessed. You couldn’t help but admire her. The way she cared for someone was nothing short of brilliant.

You were indebted.

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After about an hour and a half of talking with Jun, eating a meal she brought, and getting more information about Paradise, you began to question if Lord Douma was ever arriving.

“If he’s not coming, I don’t see why I have to stay here,” you said, quickly eating the dango that she had sneakily fetched from a cart for you. “I could try walking or-”

“Please, be patient,” she interrupted, taking a piece of dango for herself and leaving you with a scowl. “Dr. Isha probably got busy. I’m sure he’ll arrive any second.”

During your conversation, you learned a lot about Paradise. It was home to more than 200 followers, with some outsiders also working on the property. Jun informed you that the majority of followers worked here and contributed to the community in some way. The property included over a dozen buildings and had an intriguing layout. At the center of it all was a lake teeming with a diverse array of plant and animal life. And even better, just a few hundred feet, was a large hot spring that was modernized.

It sounded so beautiful; it was almost too good to be true. There had to be some downside to all this.

“Do people usually stay here?”

“Typically, yes. Unless they attain Eternal Paradise or are turned away,” Jun replied, absentmindedly playing with her empty dango stick. “No one really has the desire to leave. We’re safe here.”

Her words struck a chord with you. Why would anyone abandon such a sanctuary in the first place? No wonder no one wanted to leave. The basic necessities of life—food, clothing, and safety—were guaranteed here. But this place offered more than just the essentials. It promised salvation. It provided an environment to nurture a family. According to Jun, achieving Eternal Paradise was the pinnacle of achievement, and while members were chosen biweekly, it was the ultimate goal for everyone.

But what does it entail? What must you offer to remain in such a place? This was a cult, no doubt. Contemplating all of this, especially having just awakened from a coma, gives you a headache.

“May we come in?” You hear from the shoji doors, noticing two moving shadows. Fucking, finally ! “We have brought gifts!” Another voice chimes in, a rather smooth male one. “I’m so, so sorry that we’re late!”

Jun clasps her hands together, a smile gracing her face as she opens the doors for Dr. Isha and the man you assume to be Lord Douma.

Your jaw drops.

You’ve never seen anyone so peculiar yet so striking. His hair, as white as snow, seems to defy gravity with its wild disarray. Sharp, angled spikes rise from his head in a chaotic symphony, framing his pale, rather cold-looking face quite handsomely. The hair around his head flares to the side, curving backwards, and a single lock slants down to the right side of his face, falling between his eyes. On the top of his head was a pointed black hat with golden stitching. You’ve seen people with strikingly different appearances before, but never anyone this flamboyant.

His clothing tells a different story.

It’s clear that his kimono is expensive. It’s a traditional red robe made from silk, as smooth as the calmest imaginable lake. He also wears a thick, black cape with two tresses patterned in purple and black that reach to his knees. The robe is adorned with two large symbols, each on his upper chest. His height is also impressive, towering over Jun, who is bowing to him, and Dr. Isha, who is greeting both of you.

You’d never seen a Japanese man look even remotely similar to Douma.

No wonder Jun regards him as a God.

Douma greets Jun and moves closer to your hospital bed before settling into the small corner at the end. “I’m so sorry for the delay!” he exclaims, placing a basket brimming with various items beside him. He claps his hands together dramatically, his face adorned with a smile. “Please accept my apologies!”

You blink at him as he bows, his hands pressed together. This man is the leader? His behavior strikes you as rather childish. “It’s alright, I suppose,” you respond.

He ceases his bowing and straightens up. Your gaze drifts away from him, landing on the two women, who are sporting broad smiles. Dr. Isha’s face is flushed, and Jun appears no different. A twinge of annoyance prompts you to clench your jaw, and you shift your attention back to Douma.

His eyes capture your attention. This was the first time you’ve ever seen eyes quite like these and the longer you look at them, the more it feels like you’re swimming in a sea of rainbows. “Could we have some space, please?” he suddenly requests, his smile broadening as he addresses the two women. “I’d like to have a conversation with our guest, if that’s alright.”

Dr. Isha’s smile faded. The two women exchanged hesitant glances before sliding open the shoji door and exiting, closing it gently behind them.

He turned his gaze back to you, his smile giving way to a more sincere expression. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together in a display of deep sympathy. “I cannot simply imagine the emotions and struggles you must be confronting right now.” His words were so soft, they were barely above a whisper.

“I’m thankful to be alive, so thank you.”

His lips curled upward into a gentle smile. “Dr. Isha told me you’re having trouble with your memory.” He began to rummage through the basket on the bed before picking up a few items. “These are a few items from the attack. Let me know if they jog your memory, okay?”

You nodded, your gaze falling on the first item. It was your haori. You had one that matched your brother, though his face was still a fuzzy memory. “Can I hold it?” you asked, already reaching out to take it.

He handed it over to you, and you began to inspect it. The haori, patterned with sunflowers, was in a pitiful state. It was ripped and torn in several places, and the fabric that was once carefully stitched was now marred with dried blood stains and dirt.

You looked up.

Douma was observing you intently as you clenched the fabric in your hands. You didn’t remember much, not really. Looking at the dirt reminded you of mud, but oddly enough, you couldn’t discern whether what you remembered was a dream or an actual memory. Everything seemed more blurred the longer you pondered.

“I remember mud,” you told him, setting the ripped haori down. “Dream or not a dream?”

“Not a dream.” He shook his head, picking up the haori and examining it himself. “It was raining. I don’t know why you were in the forest, but I’m thankful I was there. There was a bear larger than a station wagon that grabbed you and threw you down the mountainside."

You let out a soft tsk. “I was afraid,” you confessed to him, your voice cracking and your hands trembling slightly as you spoke. “Every time I woke up, fear was there, like an unwelcome guest. It’s still with me, this fear, and I don’t understand why.”

Douma, still fixated on you, remained silent. You didn’t think he blinked even once during your interaction. “Well then, tell me about yourself,” he suggested, rising from the bed and moving towards the kettle that Jun had placed earlier. “How does that sound? Let’s see if it jogs your memory, shall we?”

You clicked your tongue, feeling a headache coming on and your emotions running high. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” you countered.

He whipped his head back, his long platinum hair swishing against his waist. “Me?” He chuckled softly under his breath as he plugged the kettle into the wall. You were so thankful that this place had electricity. “Well, isn’t that interesting?” he mused, seemingly intrigued.

You tilted your head, confused. “What’s interesting?”

He stands still for a moment, his interest piqued by the sound of the water heating up. “Hmm,” he murmurs, shifting his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. You can’t help but notice his discomfort, which in turn stirs a sense of nervousness within you. You wonder if your presence is causing him unease. Breaking the silence, he asks, “What is it that you wish to know?”

You shrugged. "Why do you help people the way you do?" You blurted out the question. You were not particularly good at talking to people, let alone asking them personal questions. But talking to Jun was different; it was simple. She preferred to do most of the talking. But now, talking to the man who saved you, you were extremely nervous. “It must be hard. How does that make you feel?” you added.

He let out a soft chuckle before finally turning to face you. Leaning against the wall, he responded, “I lead my people towards enlightenment.” He then crossed his arms, studying your reactions. “Knowing that my people are well-cared for and saved in this manner brings me great satisfaction.”

As the tea kettle began to boil, Douma shifted his attention towards it and poured a cup of tea for you. “Aren’t you going to have a cup?” you asked, observing the steam rising from the small porcelain cup he had placed by your bedside. “Jun brought it; it’s quite good.”

He walked over to the kettle and unplugged it before taking a seat at the edge of your bed. “Thank you, but I don’t eat or drink in front of others,” he said, crossing his legs with a slight hum.

You furrowed your eyebrows, finding him quite unusual. “Why?” you asked. Your love of food made the idea of not eating or drinking in front of others seem extremely strange to you. A part of you wanted to keep asking questions, but you could feel his unease. You felt indebted to him and figured the least you could do was avoid bothering him to the point of being asked to leave. “You don’t have to answer that,” you quickly added.

He sighed. “Don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head, dismissing your worry. “You’re so tense, it’s making me nervous just talking to you.”

You chuckled nervously, taking a sip of the tea and scalding your tongue in the process. “I’m sure you can understand why,” you managed to cough out, the hot liquid aggravating your already sore throat. “It’s not every day you wake up in a cult.”

“Is that what you think? That me and my people are a cult?”

Your eyes widened. Wasn’t his organization exactly that? In this era in Japan, cults weren’t necessarily a bad thing. Were they taboo? Yes. Did he seem to take it personally? Indeed, he did. You remained silent, only returning his gaze as your breathing quickened.

After a moment of intense staring, he broke the silence with a chuckle and a slap to his knee. “Relax!” He was now laughing heartily, his shoulders rising and falling with each burst of laughter. “I’m just surprised you came to that conclusion so quickly. You’re quite the sharp one, aren’t you?” He shook his head, and his face was rather serious. “But yes, we could be described as a cult. Nonetheless, my followers are happy to work towards Eternal Paradise.”

You visibly cringed.

Joining a cult was not on your bucket list.

However, if joining a cult meant being fed, staying alive, and remaining safe until you could find a way back home (or remember where it even was), you were willing to make that compromise. As you set the tea back on the bedside table, survival was the only thing on your mind. Jun had assured you it was a safe place, and even though you hadn’t known her for long, you decided to trust her. The sight of people in the cafeteria, well-fed and clothed, some even with children, gave you some reassurance.

“Well, our conversation seems to have become rather tense,” he observed, rising from the bed to his full height. “Why don’t you try standing? I think a tour is in order.” He walked over to a closet in the corner of the room and pulled out two crutches. “Ah, these might come in handy, don’t you think?”

“What about the rest of the items?” You asked, glancing at the basket placed on the other side of the bed.

“I’m sure your nurse will be more than willing to assist you,” he said, moving closer to you on the bed and extending his free hand. “Here, let me help you.”

You studied his hand.

It was even paler than his face, adorned with short, bluish nails that had a slight sheen. He was already pale, but his nails were so blue that you wondered if he was sick. With some hesitation, you accepted his hand, only to be taken aback by its icy touch.

You gasped, both at the chill of his hand and the realization that you were now standing. As you wobbled slightly, your heart pounded in your chest. Instinctively, you reached up to touch his face, pressing your hands against his cheek and forehead and getting a grasp on how cold he really was.

“My God!” you exclaimed, unaware of the loudness of your voice. You let go of his hand, took a step back, picked up your hot teacup, and then took his hand again, pressing it against the cup. “You’re absolutely freezing! You really should drink some of this,” you insisted.

Douma’s eyes widened as you held his hand firmly against the warm cup. Could his pale skin and hair be signs of illness? “I think I remember something else,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought, “Yes, I knew a few people who were ill as well.”

“Yes…” he trailed off, allowing you to touch his face with your warm hands. His gaze shifted slightly, avoiding direct eye contact. “I have a condition. A rather terrible disease. Not enough blood, you see?” His voice, unusually deep, faltered just a bit, adding an eeriness to the already tense atmosphere.

“Please, accept my apologies,” you murmured, your hands falling from his face as you shook your head, taking a step back. The past few hours have been a surreal experience for you. “Despite your own struggles, you saved me,” you began, your body bending in a deep bow, a symbol of your unwavering gratitude for the life he had saved. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Douma’s lips curled into a wide grin, a stark contrast to the somber mood, as he returned the cup to you. “Think nothing of it, Sunshine!” His voice was cheerful, a sudden shift that left you slightly unsettled. “Now, about that tour. If you’ll excuse me…”

He quickly walked over to the shoji doors, his feet making soft sounds on the floor. Upon opening them, he found Jun and Dr. Isha with their ears pressed against the door, clearly eavesdropping on your conversation. “Well, what a surprise!” he exclaimed, chuckling as he watched them stumble in surprise. “I must be going now. I trust you both will treat our guest with kindness, yes?”

“Please forgive us, Lord Douma,” Jun bowed, with Dr. Isha following suit. “We were just curious, that’s all.”

As Douma made his exit, he paused to whisper something in Dr. Isha’s ear. Then, he continued on his way, leaving you all in a state of surprise at his abrupt departure.

Then, the women entered the room.

Jun quickly moved to your side, gripping your upper arm to help you maintain balance as you stood. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face as you took tentative steps. “Isn’t she amazing? Even after an injury.”

Dr. Isha’s expression was hard to read, but a hint of anger was evident in her furrowed brows, causing wrinkles to form. “You must know something, girl,” she said, coming closer and supporting your other arm as you navigated the room. You paused when her grip tightened. “You seem too comfortable with the Lord Founder. What did you say to him? What made him leave the room so abruptly?” Her voice was almost a growl, her knuckles turning white as she held onto you.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” You hissed, rolling your shoulder in an attempt to get her off of you. “We just talked, that’s all.”

Finally, she released you, her expression still stern. “Do you want to know what he told me, Jun?” Her laughter was bitter, filled with sarcasm. “He said her room is in the Lotus Wing. What a joke!”

Your gaze shifted to Jun, whose eyes had widened in surprise. “The Lotus Wing?” She let out a disbelieving scoff, clearly taken aback. “That��s quite prestigious. You must have left a significant impression on Lord Douma.”

Confusion washed over you as you glanced between the two women. “…What is the Lotus Wing?”

Without acknowledging your question, Dr. Isha continued. “She’s been given the all-clear,” she declared, her hand waving dismissively in the air. “Jun, I’m entrusting her care to you. Ensure her needs are met, I’m sure it’ll be a rollercoaster. Good evening to both of you.” With that, she opened the doors and exited the room, leaving behind a resounding slam that echoed in the silence.

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Neither you nor Jun said anything as she tidied up the hospital room.

It wasn’t that you didn’t have anything to say, but rather, you were quite upset. Dr. Isha didn’t seem to like you at all, and you were starting to understand why.

You didn’t know the exact reason, but you guessed that her demotion from advisor was because of you. That’s why she didn’t like you. Maybe you were too casual with Lord Douma! Touching his face like that, what were you thinking? You had just met him, so why did it matter if he was cold? You should have just let him be and asked if he was alright.

You had a bad habit of getting involved with things you shouldn’t.

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Jun packed everything into a larger basket, leaving you to hold the smaller one that Douma had brought for you. You noticed she had brought a lot of soap, an oddly large amount. You decided to ask her about it later.

You were utterly ecstatic to finally leave the room you’d been confined in. With shaky hands, you slid open the doors, only to be met with another door. They certainly made it difficult to leave. You wondered just how much trouble you had caused. Upon opening the last door, you were greeted with the sounds of crickets and a beautiful garden.

“Wow,” you muttered, utterly astonished at the beauty of this place. “You weren’t kidding.”

Jun paused, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moon. She inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp night air filled with the subtle scent of flowering bushes that dotted the garden. ““This isn’t even the main part,” she chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watched your reaction. “You’ll enjoy the Lotus Wing. It circles a private pond.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, intrigued. The idea of a private pond tucked away in the forest piqued your interest. You followed her as she started to walk at a leisurely pace, allowing you to fully absorb the surroundings. You looked up, noticing the towering trees adorned with blossoms. “Tell me more,” you requested.

She nodded, descending a small set of stairs. Extending her hand to you, you accepted it, and together you began to traverse a path on a hill. “Firstly, this is more of a private hospital wing. There are a few other facilities in that building,” she gestured in front of her. “See how the path diverges?”

You nodded, observing how the pea gravel path forked into two. One trail ascended while the other descended. “One leads to the main buildings, where the main lake is,” she said downhill, where a veil of mist obscured most of the landscape. “Up there, are the hot springs. That’s where the Lotus Wing is, along with a few other structures. The Lotus Wing is the most luxurious place to reside. I’ve only been there a few times, so I’m quite excited to be serving someone who lives there.”

You both began walking uphill, which quickly started to strain your leg. “How does Lord Douma manage this?” you asked, panting. Your coma had really taken a toll on you. “With his condition and all?”

Jun took the basket you were holding and placed it on top of hers. Balancing her basket on her hip, she linked arms with you to help you walk. “His condition?” She turned her head towards you, looking rather confused. “Ah, that. His Worship often rests. He isn’t typically seen during the day, and even then, we’ve all grown accustomed to his nocturnal schedule. The Gods have blessed him so much that it must be nature’s course to burden him with illness. Isn’t that sad?”

…Right. You thought back to how cold his hands were and how odd he seemed. He must be quite sick, you decided. “Anyway, how many people live in the Lotus Wing?”

She clicked her tongue as she thought about it. “Either eight or nine now that Dr. Isha got demoted.” You guys then reached a set of wooden stairs. “As nice as it is up the hill, it sure is a workout.”

“No kidding,” you gasped, placing your hands on your knees. “Eight or nine, huh? Are they more advisors? Doctors? Engineers?”

She nodded, patting your back as you caught your breath. “Something along those lines, yeah.” She then glanced around, as if checking if anyone was watching. “They’re not as harsh as Dr. Isha. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You chuckled. “Your secrets are safe with me, no worries.” The moonlight cast a beautiful glow on her blue kimono. “I’m assuming Douma also lives in the Lotus Wing?”

She winced at your words. “No. A bit past that,” she said, shaking her head. “However, you should address him more formally.”

“Why am I living there? Why did he put me there? I’m no advisor, I can’t even remember my hobbies or my own brother's face.”

“Hey,” she said in a soothing voice, rubbing your back once more. “It’s alright. He saved you personally, remember? I’m sure it’ll work out.”

You sighed. No choice but to push forward. “Alright.” You nodded, continuing your walk on the stairs.

After clearing the stairs, you found a short path leading to what looked like an enormous shrine. Bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, meticulously manicured Zen gardens flanked either side of the path, right where the rest of the stairs ended. Stone lanterns dotted the landscape, their orangish glow challenging the moonlight.

The shrine itself appeared ancient, with sweeping roofs and ornate carvings. It was quiet at the moment, but soft murmurs filled the air, along with the scent of incense. Without a doubt, you knew this was sacred ground.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered, aware of the people in the Zen Garden and the few praying to a rather large statue of Douma. Freaky, you thought. “The Lotus Wing is past the shrine, but there are a lot of members right now, so be mindful.”

You nodded hesitantly as you followed Jun. The white-clad wearers watched you in silence as you ascended the stairs and passed the shrine building. On another gravel path, Jun stopped right under a large tree. Pointing, she murmured, “There it is. Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Pretty” was an understatement. You could only see the entrance to the building, but even then, the pink hue of the building, along with its white slanted tile roof, was breathtaking. Moving forward, you and Jun finally entered.

The floor was made of dark wood, but like the exterior of the house, it held a subtle pink hue, as if reflecting the blush of a lotus blossom.

The furniture was a different story. Each piece, crafted from the same dark wood, was meticulously carved for its purpose. The furniture pieces, whether they were tables, chairs, or cabinets, all shared a small crest of a lotus itched in the middle.

Following Jun down the hallway, you noticed doors spaced generously apart, each illuminated by the warm glow of a yellow lantern. The light from the lanterns cast long, dancing shadows on the wooden floor as you walked and shone beautifully along the white walls.

Upon reaching the end of the hallway, a shoji door crested with a lotus, along with a neatly arranged place to remove and store your shoes. “This was Dr. Isha’s old room,” Jun said, slipping off her shoes with practiced ease. You followed suit, feeling the cool wood beneath your feet. “I assume this is where you’ll be staying,” she added, sliding the door open with gentle hands.

Your eyes widened with surprise.

Douma seemed to prefer Western-style beds, as evidenced by the ones in your room and at the hospital. Your bed had a large headboard made of intricately carved dark wood. A lotus crest was carved into the wood, its design the same throughout the Lotus Wing. A layer of bamboo on the same wall added a touch of nature, as did two nightstands placed near your bed.

The room was floored with traditional tatami mats, their subtle fragrance filling the space. Despite the high ceilings, part of the room dipped into a cozy area furnished with a table and a few chairs. It looked like a small tearoom, complete with a small fire pit in the center. A long wire hung from the ceiling, holding an iron pot in the pit below. Beyond the tearoom, you could see closed shoji doors that certainly opened to reveal another space.

Never in your life have you seen a room this luxurious.

With a sense of urgency and a flicker of excitement, you rushed to the shoji doors and slid them open. Your intuition was right. As the doors parted, you took in the imposing size of the walls separating each room. On either side of you, two large, dark walls shielded you from the view of the other rooms while also granting you a generous portion of the private pond that Jun had mentioned.

If you hadn’t been raised with manners, you might have stripped off your clothes and plunged straight into the inviting water. But then Jun’s sympathetic smile pulled you back to the harsh reality of your situation.

That’s right, you reminded yourself.

You weren’t here on vacation or to celebrate some brazen achievement. You were here because you came dangerously close to meeting the reaper. The weight of that realization began to settle in, casting a pall over the beauty of your surroundings.

The luxurious room, the private pond, the exquisite craftsmanship—all seemed to mock your predicament, serving as a somber reminder of the grim reason for your visit. Slowly but surely, the initial awe and excitement gave way to a creeping sense of despair.

You lost a part of yourself.

A part of what made you, you. You would never be sure if you would remember what had happened to you or the important details of your life. You walked over to the bed and noticed that it was bare, but you still sat on the mattress. Your throat began to sting as your lip quivered with emotion.

You tried to take deep breaths, but all that came out were quick, shallow ones. Swiftly, Jun came to your side. “Deep breaths,” she advised. You focused on the sound of her voice as you began rolling up your kimono. Thank God, you thought, relieved that you hadn’t injured yourself walking here. “Why don’t we try making your bed, huh?”

You nodded, deciding to stand up and move to the tearoom. Tears began flowing freely, your chest heaving with sobs as your mind kept replaying the blurry faces of your loved ones. You were so unbelievably frustrated.

“I want to go home,” you cried, gripping the fabric of your kimono tightly. “I want to see my brother.”

Jun nodded empathetically, allowing you to voice your frustrations while she looked for sheets. “But I don’t even know where to begin looking,” you confessed. Pathetic whimpers escaped your lips as you stared at the clear water outside. The room grew rather cold. “My brother, he must be so scared. He was my twin, you know?”

Your face was blotchy red as she spread the pale pink sheets on the bed. You found yourself liking the pink theme. It was unique. “My brother was a difficult child, you see?” You hiccupped, and your crying subsided slightly as you began to recall faint memories of your childhood. “He was a horrible kid. Really. I was calm in comparison to him but..."

The sobs started again and grew louder. “He was too much. My parents sent him off to live with the village leader, but he refused to go because my parents didn’t want to send me.” This happened years ago; why did the pain feel so fresh? “So they abandoned both of us.”

Your crying became uncontrollable as you curled up on the tatami mat. “Shhhh.” Jun dropped the sheets and sat down next to you. “What you’re going through is extremely traumatic. Difficult, emotionally pressing memories will always take priority over more joyful ones.”

That didn’t comfort you. Were you going to be stuck living the rest of your life like this? Is your trauma resurfacing because of your injury? You couldn’t help but wonder. “Why don’t I go get another doctor?”

You nodded.

If they knew something, anything, that could relieve the extreme distress you suddenly found yourself in, you would be grateful. You stood up, watching as Jun hurriedly made your bed before tucking you in.

You fell asleep rather quickly.

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You awoke sometime later, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows as it peeked in through your now closed outdoor shoji. You felt surprisingly well-rested, your body rejuvenated from the deep sleep. Stretching slightly, you took a moment to take in your surroundings. A meal had been quietly brought inside and laid upon the table in the tearoom, the dishes neatly arranged and waiting for you.

Just how long have you slept? The question lingered in your mind as you tried to piece together the events of the past day. The last thing you remembered was having an emotional outburst and Jun saying she was going to get the doctor. But now, Jun was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, you got up, your leg slightly sore from the unfamiliar bedding, only to jump back at the sight of a man sitting on a chair directly next to you.

“Jesus!” You yelled, your hand instinctively flying to your chest as your heart pounded against your ribcage. “Who are you?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he began flapping his hands around, almost like he was trying to explain himself without talking. You watched him, confusion etched on your face, as he began to make noises.

“I, I, I-” His words were garbled, more like random noises than coherent speech. But you managed to catch the repeated ‘I’.

“I?” You echoed, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Why are you here?”

He shook his head, frustration evident in his features. Then, he opened his mouth and pointed at what little was left of his tongue. You gasped and instinctively moved closer to the man. “My goodness, your tongue!” You exclaimed, taken aback by the sight. His tongue had large chunks missing, but despite his condition, he seemed desperate to get you to understand him.

He then pointed at himself and gave a thumbs up, as if to reassure you that he was okay. You felt yourself relax. “I’m guessing Jun went to sleep?” He nodded in response. Then, you took notice of his attire. Just like Jun, the man was dressed in blue. Could he be a nurse, perhaps? “Why don’t we find some paper so you can write?”

He nodded, his long hair shaking with each vigorous nod. “Very well.” You got out of bed and began making it, but he dismissed you with a wave of his hand and took over the task himself. “I don’t think there’s any paper in this room, so why don’t we check the common room?”

He nodded in agreement as you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom. As you shut the door behind you, you were finally alone with your thoughts and your reflection. The bathroom was equipped with a closet, and a rather long mirror stretched across one wall, reflecting back an image of someone who seemed almost unrecognizable.

You were skinny.

Your mind flashed with a brief, haunting image of how you used to look, and a wave of nausea washed over you. You remembered a time when your body was strong and muscular, but now all that remained were frail arms that seemed pitifully weak. As you stripped out of your kimono, a gasp escaped your lips.

Scars, like a constellation of past battles, dotted your body. Some were fresh, while others were old and faded, their stories long forgotten. But what caught your attention the most were your hands. You remembered how they used to be—tough, calloused, bearing the evidence of hours and hours of hard labor. But for what? What kind of work had you done that had left your body scarred and your hands hardened?

Thinking about it was pointless.

It was just going to upset you.

So, you rummaged through the closet, dressed into a silken gray kimono that you were sure that Jun left behind, and got ready for the day. Meeting the man back in your room, he greeted you with a pithy smile and a bow.

“There’s no need to be so formal, sir,” you said, your hand cutting through the air in a dismissive gesture. His stiffness seemed out of place in the relaxed atmosphere of the room. “Shall we proceed?”

He turned his attention to the tea table, where a meal had been carefully arranged. Despite the enticing aroma wafting from the dishes, you didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry. At least, not yet. “Let’s find some paper for you and take a little walk, shall we?”

In response, he extended his arm towards you, making a silent offer of support. You accepted gratefully, your thoughts turning sour at the prospect of navigating those damn stairs. With a courteous nod, he opened the door for both of you, and you made your way towards the common area.

You began thinking about Douma as you opened the various cabinets and desks. Was he the one who sent you this man? What had happened to his mouth in the first place? It was rather unsettling.

Finding a sheet of parchment and a rather fancy fountain pen, you handed them to the man. “Why don’t you tell me your name?” He began writing. My name is Haji.

You smiled at him. “Hello, Haji.” You quickly told him your name.

Jun and I will be taking turns, watching over you in shifts. Day and night, one of us will always be there,

Your condition, your situation, it’s been relayed to the doctors. They’re aware. Our leader, too, has been informed.

That was rather unsettling, you thought. You gave him a kind smile disregardless. He stilled for a moment, looking around, before he started writing again.

I was there with you that night.

His writing sent a chill down your spine. He was there? A flurry of questions swirled in your mind, each one more pressing than the last. How was he there? What did he see? What did he know?

“How?”

The sudden opening of the building’s doors seemed to startle him. In a swift, almost reflexive motion, he crumbled up the paper. It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that you blinked in surprise. Before you could even react, he shoved the crumpled paper into his mouth, swallowing it as if it were nothing more than a piece of candy. The action was so bizarre and out of place that for a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming.

Two men, both clad in red, approached you and Haji. “Ah, our guest!” They bowed to you in unison, their faces lighting up with a warm welcome. Their gaze then shifted to Haji, their enthusiasm dimming noticeably. “And Haji.”

Haji gave you a silent, pleading look as you began conversing with the two men. You decided to keep his secret. What he had confided in you would remain confidential until you died. You couldn’t help but think that he might be more useful in uncovering the full extent of what had transpired compared to Douma.

You learned that the two men were also twins, fraternal ones, just like you and your brother. Their names were Kuro and Hachiro, and they were the architects who had designed the cult. However, their stay was brief, and they departed as quickly as they had arrived.

“There’s more to this place, isn’t there?”

He nodded.

Shit.

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