The night was milder than most, and I let myself out to wander through the garden, both for exercise and to say a final goodbye to the place where I had spent the better part of the past eight years. In the morning, I would go with Madame Sato to the country house she had leased for me, and never see Madame Ozawa’s house or grounds again.

I lingered late into the night by the abalone shell mosaic. On impulse, I dropped my robe and waded into the water. My breath hissed through my teeth as the frigid water lapped my navel, but I dropped deeper into the spring. I wanted to feel this alone—the cold enveloping me, blunting sensation, and eclipsing memories. When numbness overwhelmed me, I withdrew and pulled my woolen robe around me without a shiver. Then I froze—paralyzed by what I saw, or imagined I saw.

Ansei stood by the garden wall, silent and still.

There was a time not long before, when I would have run to him, but at that moment, uncertainty bound me motionless behind the conifer tree.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

In a short space of time, everything had changed. I had altered. Watched people die. Had killed myself. My mind had yielded to a new and powerful influence I could neither understand, nor predict.

I wanted to speak to him and for one moment, I imagined the force of my desire alone could project us both far away to safety. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t unhinge my jaw to speak a voluntary word. And when I reached within and found strength, I discovered this strength was motivated by fear.

I ran like I hadn’t since childhood, straight out of the garden gate, down a public street, and up an abandoned mountain road. My feet bare of protection, pounding the cold earth and numbing to senselessness.

My lungs heaved for breath, but not for rest. Nervous energy propelled me upward, and I couldn’t think—couldn’t even see through the blur of wind and tears, nor hear through the rumination clattering between my ears.

Several shaku from town, I collapsed over an abandoned grave, marked with a half-buried stone stele. There I retreated into the recesses of my frenzied mind, mingling with the spirits beneath me for the duration of the night.

By noon the following day, I was lucid again, filthy and ragged, but I could walk. By early afternoon, I had returned again to Madame’s garden, where Madame Sato had waited for me.