Taiyo used to wonder why he dreamt of the garden with absolute clarity—why he could wake up and tell someone each and every detail about the cherry trees and the flowers that had been uprooted and rehomed at some point after Tsujihara Seiko’s death. Now, when he opened his eyes to the clear sight, he smiled and waved towards Tsujihara Seiko.
She offered a brief sad smile of her own, readjusting herself so some space remained on the bench for him, if he wanted to sit down too.
“Your mother was oddly accurate, using Teiyori’s name as inspiration for yours and your brother’s,” she mused. “You and Rei both look a lot like him. I even think of you as my children when we’re here.”
“I’m honored,” Taiyo said.
Tsujihara Seiko sighed and leaned back.
“...I don’t think you should be,” she admitted softly. “I’ve caused so much pain—I left behind a legacy of strife and nothing more.”
“You did anything but,” Taiyo firmly argued. He walked around so he stood a few steps away from her. “All of Gin looks up to you.”
“They shouldn’t. For better or worse, Asahi refused to let anyone speak ill of me.”
“I find it hard to believe you, of all people, had things to hide.”
Right after he said it, faint voices popped up in the back of his mind—murmurs and whispers from just outside the garden, but completely out of sight. Tsujihara Seiko winced; she must hear them, too.
“I wish it wouldn’t have come this far,” she said. She looked up at Taiyo, firm but caring, in a way that Kyoumi never quite managed to master. “Taiyo, please promise me that you’ll leave the palace as soon as you wake up tomorrow morning.”
“Why?” Taiyo asked. He tried not to sound like he was discrediting her, but he didn’t understand the intention either.
Tsujihara Seiko took a steadying breath and stood up, placing her hand on Taiyo’s shoulder.
“You and I are unlucky victims,” she said quietly. “We’re the ones chosen to carry out Lord Bekin’s promise for Gin.”
Her expression twisted into worry and she kept rambling instead of letting Taiyo ask questions. Her body alternated between lifelike and featureless; the dream was already crumbling. Taiyo tried to catch her attention, but she paced around without ever letting him touch her.
“Pain will stop the voices, albeit not for long—blood only excites them. Being near someone close to you dulls them, but it’s not foolproof and it can be risky if said person is who they want to kill. They will try to change you and force you to do what they want; the remnants of who they were only last for a few weeks before they’re taken over by the promise’s curse.”
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Taiyo managed to get to her and grabbed her hand. She completely froze.
“What are you talking about?” he murmured, a bit scared of the answer. Tsujihara Seiko never got this worked up over anything before; whatever it was, she faced it herself and she really didn’t want Taiyo to have to do it alone. By itself, that worried him.
She slowly faced him and her body lost all recognizable features for the last time, only her voice remaining.
“They will ask you to kill your brother, your mother, and most likely the Tsujihara line—anyone who can be identified as a member of the royal family of Gin, so that the bloodline ends and the nation’s history can go with it.”
…
Taiyo jolted awake, his breath hard to manage and his heart racing. It took him a second to remember.
Promise me.
Even as other voices in the back of his mind mocked him—you won’t escape, you’ll never escape, it’s impossible—he focused on the memory of Tsujihara Seiko’s warning. He couldn’t hear her now, but he still preferred to listen to her words rather than those of a hundred or more strangers seemingly whispering in his ear.
Taiyo looked around his room for a few seconds. Okay, so…Tsujihara Seiko wanted him to leave. Judging by the light from the window, it was still early—he could sneak out pretty easily.
But then what? Rei would have a hard time if he just…left. That didn’t even consider that Kyoumi would—arguably—take it even worse. Should he leave them a note? Pretend that he’ll come back? Maybe he could wait until the morning, hold off for a little bit longer until the Fujita family left and then pretend to go with them.
Or you could slit all their throats and leave, the unknown voices whispered. They’d never expect you… Put all the bodies together, and they would easily believe Kyoumi finally gave up and took her whole family with her…
Taiyo startled at the dark thought; his breath caught when the image perfectly showed up in his mind.
…No. He’d leave now. He didn’t want to kill them, even if the alternative meant they would be living in perpetual grief or fear or sadness. Rei had Maeko and Snowbell to keep him happy; Kyoumi had Sorai and dozens of books to keep her mind off things. They’d move past it eventually.
Maybe he could come back later if the voices went away—if Tsujihara Seiko was wrong, somehow—but for now, he didn’t want to take that chance. Whether or not he would regret this and the actions he would take in that case could come later, when he knew these strange voices were either completely imaginary or actually harmless. Tsujihara Seiko had a reason to be worried, and he wanted to respect that.
Taiyo got out of bed, grabbed a spare traveling bag he kept for Fujita family visits, and went around his room to gather a few essentials. Two or three days’ worth of clothes, whatever money he had lying around, a few pieces of paper and something to write with in case he thought of a good reason later.
He quickly changed into normal wear, picked up his now-full bag, and quietly snuck through the halls. All the while, the voices mumbled and murmured and muttered:
You will be the end. You only delay the inevitable, just as she did—but we won’t fail again. You will become the very monster that Seiko feared, the very being that will finally end this wretched existence and the history of this island.