Fukusha Model Eight – Chapter 14

The catching up will have to wait.

Back up in the main house, Kazuo awaits us with a smile and a hug.

“You’re looking scruffy,” Kazuo says, patting Rin on the back. “But in good spirits.”

“I am now.” Rin settles his arm around my waist. I try not to blush as I run through the maybe two or three times in my head Rin has ever shown me affection in public. It’s not his thing. He’s a serious, hardworking man with a reputation to uphold. When he danced with me on the butsu, Kazuo wasn’t around to witness. When he threw his arm over my shoulders in the market, no one there knew him. When he danced with me in the nightclub, we were in a sea of nobodies.

This… I don’t know what to think about this.

But maybe he’s always been like this?

Shit. I can’t remember.

An icepick of pain pierces my head from temple to temple, and I wince. My migraines used to crawl up the back of my head, over the top, and seize my brain from above, like a skull-sucking monster. It bothers me that they’ve changed so much since I’ve been here.

And I’m about to have another one.

“I’d like to brief the Nomuras on where we can go from here.” Kazuo turns off his tablet and stows it under his arm. “I don’t think our relationship needs to end.”

“No. Neither do I. It’s just the beginning.” Rin’s eyes are bright with happiness. Why is he acting like this after being held captive by them? Curiosity grows like a weed in my stomach, urging on the pain in my head. “Daito and Miho will have dinner with us, I’m sure. Let’s talk then.”

He’s on a first name basis with them?

“I’m sure, though, that Atsumi wants us to check in,” Kazuo says, glancing at me.

“We’ll check in soon. Thanks for handling her and this trip.” Rin and Kazuo bow to each other. “Come,” he says to me. “We should talk in private.” Rin turns to address the man in the hallway. “Juto, what room is Yumi in?”

My mouth drops open. He’s on a first name basis with even the guards?

Now, I’m really curious. There’s a story here that I want to investigate. Rin’s been making friends and allies even though he’s been held hostage. My lips quirk in an involuntary smile, knowing he used his charm and know-how to make progress with our overall mission. But as I turn my head to look in the direction Juto is indicating, the hallway fuzzes and softens.

“Nicest one on the estate.” Juto bows. “We moved your belongings there too.”

“Let’s go.” He tugs me along, and I glance over my shoulder at Kazuo. He’s returned to his tablet with no worries. My brain is seriously unhappy, and I want to warn him I’m about to have another migraine, but I’m too far away when my mouth catches up with my thoughts.

We wind through the length of the estate, through hallways and down corridors. He knows the place by heart, and I know this is Rin. The scars on his arms and hands are the same ones I memorized before we were separated. But is there an alternate mission or objective here I’m unaware of? Or am I? Have I been told and just forgotten? No. He must have new knowledge of Shiroi Nami and doesn’t want to tell me in public.

Right?

Good God. What if I’m forgetting even the most basic things?

My face flushes, and my upper lip sweats as I try to access parts of my brain that throb like an open wound. I want to turn and run back to Kazuo. I don’t want another migraine to tarnish my reunion with Rin. Unfortunately, I pushed myself too hard to get moving after my last one; I can feel it. Rin helped me through many migraines when we were together, but they were never as bad as the ones I’ve had here on the Southern Continent.

Suddenly, I’m desperate for him to not see me like this. Our reunion will be ruined.

We end up outside the last room on the floor, and my knees shake as Rin opens the door. My heart beats wildly, my stress response off the charts due the weeks of broken sleep and nervousness I’ve battled.

Ninjin’s collar jingles as he sits up on the bed, his ears at attention. I flash back to him attacking the Fake-Rin, and my mind zips into a blur.

That did happen. I had forgotten most of the details during my last migraine, and now they surface with sharpened intensity. My brain reels, practically turning in my skull.

“Oh. I wonder how a dog got in here.” Rin pats his leg and whistles lightly. “Come here, boy. We’ll go find your owner.”

“No,” I whisper. I snap my hand out to the wall as my vision tunnels.

Too fast. Too fast.

I crash to my knees, drawing in air to stop the pain and clutching at my head. “No. No!”

Ninjin’s nails scrape across the hardwood floors, trying to gain purchase in his desperate scramble to get to me. He barrels through Rin standing over me, his mouth open and eyes wide. Ninjin forces his body under my head so I don’t bang my forehead on the floor. I’ve done that before as I attempted to stop the pain, and he’s kept me from harming myself on a few occasions. Whimpering a million times a minute, Ninjin turns his head so he can lick my neck.

I groan, nauseated and embarrassed. “Go away!” I yell at my migraine, Rin, anyone who will hear me.

“What the…?” Rin acts fast. He pulls open the door and screams down the hall for help.

I fade in and out of black, feeling someone lift me to the bed and Ninjin lying down next to me.

A long moment of silence precedes a cool washcloth on my forehead.

“It might have been too early to get her on her feet after her last spill.”

Kazuo. His fingers brush away my hair. “See? She needs to see a neurologist. She’s losing her short-term memories, and the migraines have weakened her natural responses to fear and stress.” His cool hand squeezes my forearm. “I’m very concerned. They come on quicker than she’s used to. They’re more powerful and painful than they were a few months ago. She becomes incoherent and rambling and then doesn’t remember anything she said. If we were home, her mother and father would have her in to see the best doctors on the planet.”

“She begged me not to hurt her.” Rin’s voice cracks, and the sound pierces my heart. “Why?”

When did I say that?

I force my eyes open. “Hey,” I squeak out, feeling more tired than I have in months. Everything in eyesight has a thick halo around it, and the room swirls. I think I’m going to be sick.

Kazuo and Rin sit on the bed with Ninjin and me. Miho hovers in the doorway, her hands worrying the fabric of her yukata.

“Hey, kako,” Kazuo whispers, breathing out a sigh of relief. “You had us worried there for a moment.”

I reach across Ninjin’s body to grab Rin’s arm, pulling him closer. I rotate his wrist side to side, tracing the scars I know.

“See? You’re real. No need to panic.”

“Of course I’m real. Fucking hell. What is wrong with her?”

“Yumi was attacked in Kitakyushu by an android that… well.” Kazuo swallows. “He looked like you.”

“What?” Rin jumps up from the bed. Miho takes two steps closer.

“I tracked it for several days and just barely stopped the thing from killing her. It was” — he shakes his head — “an almost exact copy.”

“They missed the scars.” I reach up and pull the washcloth down over my face, pressing it to my aching eyes. “I’m going to be sick.”

Miho grabs the trashcan next to the desk and passes it to Kazuo. I lean to the side and puke up very little. I ate none of the food the Nomuras had given us.

“Does she need a doctor?” Miho asks, her voice thick with worry.

“No,” I say at the same time Kazuo says, “Yes.”

Rin crosses the room to the window and pulls the curtains shut.

“I’ll go fetch someone right away.” Miho bows and hurries out the door.

The door clicks closed, and Kazuo leaves the bed to pace back and forth in the room. “I told you this was a bad idea from the start.”

“You’re right. Absolutely. One hundred percent,” Rin says, coming around to take the trashcan away. “I’ll handle this.”

I can’t even hold my head up, so I cock my chin to the side and blink at Rin. “No. Leave me. Don’t stay for this.” I push on his chest, and he stumbles backwards, his face wide with shock.

Then his eyes zero in on my body, for real this time.

“Yumi,” he whispers, edging forward to touch my shirt. It’s one I purchased in my Shinsaibashi shopping spree when I first arrived on Hikari. It used to fit me, and now it’s two sizes too big. “Why are you so skinny?”

He stands up and steps away from the bed, his eyes full of hurt. I look at him and imagine him without all the hair, and he is exactly the same. He hasn’t been starved here, and he’s in good shape too. I’m much different.

I slide out of the bed like a boneless snake and wrap myself around the trashcan. Ninjin jumps down next to me.

“Go. I’m… I’m sorry that my idiocy got you kidnapped.” Pain slices through my brain, cutting it in half. I moan and throw my arm over my eyes.

“What’s this now?” Rin sighs but I have no idea what else he does.

“Help me get her into the bed again.” Kazuo’s warm hands on the back of my neck cause me to shiver. “And prepare for this to last at least three days.”

“I’ll go find out about the doctor,” Rin says, and the door opens and closes again.

“Thank you,” I whisper at Kazuo, keeping my eyes closed.

He sighs. “Don’t push him away, Yumi. Just don’t.”