"We're finally home, Ai!"
"I should be the one saying that, not the other way around. Sigh," Ai replied, shooting her an annoyed glance. "Why did you choose to stay at my place anyway?"
"How many times will I say it, Ai-chan. To compensate for what I did earlier, I'll be staying the night with you."
"Won't your parents be worried about your sudden disappearance?"
"That won't be a problem. I already talked to mother—she said it's fine. As long as I check in with her every hour, everything's okay."
Ai let out an exasperated sigh before walking ahead, leaving Lilac still chattering to herself on the sidewalk. She pulled the key out of her bag, slid it into the lock, and turned it before gently pushing the door open.
The familiar scent of lavender and old paper wafted out to greet them—a calming, nostalgic blend that always made Ai's chest tighten with something unspoken.
Lilac stepped in behind her, glancing around curiously. "Still smells like you haven't changed a single thing since our first year."
"I haven't had a reason to," Ai replied flatly, slipping off her shoes and setting them neatly by the door.
Lilac followed suit. "It's kind of comforting, honestly."
Ai said nothing, just walked toward her grandmother's room.
Lilac lingered at the entrance. "Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"
Ai paused, then gave a faint nod. "Just don't touch anything that has nothing to do with you. I'll check in with Grandma for a second."
Lilac made her way into the living room. The dim ceiling lamp above the chabudai cast soft soft shadows on the walls. Slowly, she made her way over to it, gently lowering herself onto the tatami mat and sitting back on her legs.
Everything was exactly where she remembered it—Ai's books stacked neatly on the shelves, a small maneki-neko doll resting on the table, and a wind chime hung just above the hallway entrance.
"Hey, Ai," Lilac called out from the living room. "Want me to chief up one of your favourite dishes?"
"Are you serious, Lilac? We just ate at the café."
"That doesn't count!" she yelled back, slamming her hands on the table. "That was... um... like an appetiser, you know?"
"Sure. Anything you say," Ai replied dryly.
"I'm serious. Weren't you planning on eating something for dinner?"
Peeping out from the room, Ai had an unimpressed expression on her face. "Sigh I was gonna order carryout after I finished my chores, but since you volunteered to co—"
"N-No," Lilac cut in, stammering, "Carryout it is!"
She quickly sprang to her feet, stretching her limbs with youthful flair. "I'll be ordering tonkatsu—and you're paying."
Ai didn't even glance at her as she stepped into the room and sat across from her. "You can take the futon in my closet, by the way. I'll set it up for you if you need me to."
"Thanks... And Ai? I meant what I said earlier. I truly—"
"I heard you the first time, Lilac. And I believe you. You've never lied to me since our first year. Well, technically, you didn't lie about earlier either, so I won't be on your case for that. Still... you're a friend I know I can't do without."
Lilac nodded slowly, though guilt still stirred in her chest. Then, after a brief, awkward pause, Ai spoke again, her tone quieter.
"There are some things I wish I was able to tell you... but I can't..."
"Don't push yourself," Lilac said gently. "When the time presented itself, the truth will come out."
"No!" Ai shouted suddenly, tears rushing to her eyes. "You don't understand. There... There is this... thing that's been following me since I returned here."
Lilac moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Ai. There is no need to get so worked up. I'm here."
But Ai didn't listen. Instead, her sobs grew louder.
"I... smell... the scent of death on me regularly," she cried. "Like it's been attached to me—like it wants something from me..."
«Δεν μπορείς να το δεις ακόμα».
Closing the distance further, Lilac gently wrapped her arms around Ai, pulling her into a deep hug.
"Like I said, you don't need to force it out right now. I know you're dealing with a lot—and I probably won't understand any of it right now. But I'm here for you anyway. Vent to me if you need to. It's the least I could do."
Ai froze.
What she had said—what she'd begged someone to believe—once again fell on deaf ears.
No matter how many times she tried to explain it—that she had returned two years in the past—no one believed her. Or rather, no one seemed to even remember any of it.
Was it because death she claimed was following her? Or was it simply her own paranoia—the past that kept resurfacing to torment her?
Her tears didn't stop. They only grew louder the more it sank in.
Then—just as if the world outside mirrored her heartache—the soft patter of rain began against the windows. It started gentle, but grew steadily, each droplet tapping like the ticking of time she never had slipping through her fingers.
「眠りは死の従兄弟である.」