Chapter 54 #3
“I tried to run, but there was this burning in my chest, as if I was being flooded by something invading my body. My limbs weren’t mine. I had no control over what my body was doing. And then my thoughts were not my own.”
Her eyes settle on a spot on the balcony, her hair billowing behind her as the wind whips at it and the darkness caresses her skin.
“Memories came to me—not my own, someone else’s. It felt like a movie playing in my head.” She glares at me, but it’s as if she isn’t seeing me, her eyes glassy, her face drawn as she tells me exactly what she saw in a haunting voice that barely resembles her own.
“I was in the master bedroom,” she says, voice flat, almost mechanical—not her words but the words of whatever had consumed her.
“It was evening. I remember shaking, hiding behind the en suite door because I knew he’d found out.
” Hayami’s hands tremble. “Barrett… he was hammering against the door and shouting. ‘Whore.’ ‘Bitch.’ ‘Cunt.’ He kept hitting the door until it splintered, and that was when I saw the tip of the axe. I was afraid, not for myself but for the baby.” Her hands drop protectively to her stomach.
“I deserved this. I’d been unfaithful in order to get pregnant, to give Barrett the only thing he ever wanted from me.
But my baby was innocent.” She snarls like a dog guarding its pup, then raises her hand.
“I smashed a mirror, grabbed a shard of glass, but—” She swallows hard, eyes flicking past me.
“It was too late. He was in the room, laughing like a fucking maniac, spitting insults at me, swinging the axe like a pendulum.”
All too clearly, I could picture Barrett Devall, lord of the manor, betrayed, mocked, and in a fucking frenzy.
“He told me about Kuchisake-Onna—the legend from my country about a concubine who was unfaithful to one of the samurai. And as punishment, he slashed her mouth from ear to ear whilst she was still alive.” Hayami’s arms drop, eyes glazing over as she stares at nothing, but I see the horror, the bloodless pallor of her skin.
Her hands move back to her stomach as if shielding an invisible child. Then she looks at me.
“He said I was a cheating whore. That he’d make me look like her. Then he grabbed the shard of glass from my hand.”
She touches her face like she can still feel the cut.
“It was like a hot poker slicing through meat, tearing the flesh from my cheeks.” She hesitates, a gargled sound coming from her before she continues.
“I stopped screaming when the blood gathered under my tongue, stopped breathing when it ran down the back of my throat and choked me until I couldn’t breathe. ”
She blinks slowly, one hand cupping her jaw as if she’s trying to hold it on, the other rubbing over her stomach as if trying to soothe the baby she felt was there.
Her voice fades, like she’s lost all power, all purpose, because she knows this is the end. “The last words I heard him say were that no one ever defied him and got away with it, not even me, his wife.”
Hayami stares at me, eyes awash with memories that are not her own.
“Noa Devall,” I confirm, placing this detail amongst the others, letting it settle into the picture as if placing the last piece of the jigsaw. “Your dad’s second wife.”
She nods. “I was told she died in childbirth. Always believed that was the case. But now I know. I saw it.” Her eyes widen, fixing on me as if daring me to challenge her, even though she knows I’m not the one who needs convincing about the spirit of someone plaguing this house.
Hayami has always been the sceptic, the one who reaches for an explanation, science, and facts.
I thought, along with Junko, that it was Kuchisake-Onna.
But no. It was never the legend that roamed this house.
It’s the ghost of Noa Devall haunting this place due to her barbaric murder that happened in this very room.
“I felt it.” Hayami gulps the freezing air.
“I felt it all, the glass on my mouth, ripping my skin as the shard cut through it. I tasted the blood, felt it pooling in the back of my throat, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, and all the while, I was looking into his eyes—the eyes of my father.
” A sadness swamps her as she carries not only her own hurt but that of everyone who Devall’s destroyed.
“After Noa left my body, I wondered why she’d done it, why she was here and trying to communicate with me.
Then I realised she was warning me, showing me the kind of man my father is, what he’s capable of and what he’ll do when he’s betrayed—just as she tried to do with my mother, although Mum never figured out who she was or what she was trying to tell her before leaving this house. ”
Hayami looks out over the mountainside, and something in me crumbles, because she’s right.
This is what will happen to her. I don’t care what happens to me; I’ve been on the brink of death, felt the lick of the flames, felt the heat of hell.
But Hayami… I can’t let Devall find her.
I can’t let him do this to her. I won’t.
But how do I protect her from a man with eyes everywhere?
A man who will tear the world apart to get what he wants?
She’s right. Her sensible scientific brain has worked it out, has come up with the only solution to the problem. The only answer that’ll ensure that he doesn’t get what he wants, doesn’t find her, and doesn’t win this war.
It’s why the dark shadow stalks her aura. It knows her time is almost up. Death’s so close now. There’s no escaping it.
My heart sinks as I look into her eyes. “You’re right,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen. It’s not the response she expected.
“This is the only way to stop him.” I take a step towards her, and she clings to the balcony.
“What are you doing?” she asks, watching me warily.
“I’m doing what we both need to do—the only thing we can do—because you’re right: Your father will find us and kill us. I don’t care what he does to me; I’ll probably take great pleasure in the pain he dishes out, because I deserve it. I’ve failed you, just like I failed my sister.”
Hayami opens her mouth, but I cut her off. “We don’t have time for you to argue with me. This might be the last chance I get to speak to you, so you’re going to listen to me, Hayami.”
She purses her lips.
“My sister was innocent. You’re innocent.
Victims of this fucked-up world of gangs and guns.
I’ve killed, done heinous things that can’t be forgiven.
But you? You’ve done nothing—just like her—and yet you’ll die at the hands of a man who never deserved you, never deserved a wife or child.
And you’re right: Taking your life is the only way you’ll defeat him, the only way to fuck him over for the final time.
But it kills me, Hayami, to know that it has come to this, that this is the only way to be free of him.
I swore to protect you with everything I have, with every fibre of my being.
I’ll keep that promise. I won’t let you die alone.
Without you, there’s nothing left for me. Without you, I don’t exist.”
* * *
HAYAMI
My knees are weak, my legs shaking against the railing, my hands numb from gripping the cold stone for so long.
He’s close now, close enough to take my hand. And I give it to him freely, because I know he understands, sees things the way I do, because there’s no other way. There’s only death, and I’ll be damned if my father gets to dish mine out.
If I am to die, it will be my way, my choice, my demise.
Heart-wrenching loss splinters my chest as Fenrir wraps his arm around my waist and places his head against my forehead.
“All I ask is one thing,” he says. I pull back and stare at him.
“I’ve already thrown myself from one balcony when I jumped out of my burning home cradling my sister.
I can’t do it again. I can’t leave this world that way, Hayami.
There are other ways. Quick. Painless. We will die together.
And we’ll remain in this house together forever.
” He swallows hard as agony rips through my body.
I’m about to argue. He doesn’t need to die too. He doesn’t need to do this with me. But then I think about what my father will do to him. Fenrir isn’t stupid.
It’s the only way.
And I want to tell him that I wish things could have been different.
I wish I’d met him in some other place, some other time, some other body, but there’s no point in making wishes that are never going to come true.
Instead, I haul my leg over the balustrade, Fenrir tightening his grip as I regain my balance.
Taking my hand, he leads me back into the bedroom, where we stop and hold each other.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He places his thumb under my chin, tipping my head back. “What for?”
“For everything,” I begin. “For showing me what pleasure is, for making me feel things I only thought possible in books, for listening to me, for saving me.” I stroke the side of his face, my fingers tracing his scars.
“It’s been my duty, my honour, and my pleasure, Hayami Devall.”
He lowers his head and kisses me. Softly, gently. But I need more. This is going to be the last time I feel his mouth on mine, the last time I taste him, so I need to make it last. I pull him closer, press my body against his, and thrust my tongue into his mouth.
Why does this feel so right—like I belong here, like this is the place I’m meant to be?
We kiss for longer than we should, but it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters anymore other than the feel of his arms around me and his mouth upon mine.
The wind blows through the open doors, the chill sprinkling the room in an eerie cold, yet all I feel is the warmth of Fenrir’s body, the heat from his mouth, and the pressure of his hold.
As he holds me, he says, “Hayami, before we do this, I need you to know that everything I’ve given you, everything I’ve shown you, has been real.
You might think that I took you because I thought I was helping you, but it wasn’t just that.
It was because I wanted you. I’ve wanted you from the moment I pulled you from that swimming pool.
I’m not sure if you feel the same, but I’ll tell myself that you do.
I want to be the only thing you think about, the only thing you breathe for, the only thing you live for, and the only thing you’re willing to die for, because you, Hayami, are already all of those things for me.
I’m yours, Hayami. Always will be. Always have been. Now and even in death. You are my all.”
I bite my lip, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. I can’t let him die not knowing. I can’t die without telling him.
“I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what it feels like. But if wanting to die in your arms is love, then please, hold me.”
My heart aches as his grip tightens around my waist. He tips my head back, wipes my tears with his thumb, and then places his hand around his back and produces the gun that’s been tucked into his waistband.
I pull back because I know what this means.
It’s time.
His eyes well with tears.
“I want to kiss you again,” I blurt. “I want to taste you as I die. I want my last breath to be yours.”
He stares at me before he speaks. “I’m not sure if I can pull the trigger, Hayami. I can kill myself, that isn’t a problem, but I can’t shoot you. I won’t be able to.” He passes me the gun.
“I can’t.” My voice wobbles as I shake my head, realising what he’s asking me to do.
“I only have one gun, Hayami. One of us has to go first.”
I thought he’d shoot me, then himself. It never occurred to me how impossible that would be for him. Because if it were the other way around, I wouldn’t survive it either—not the sight of him falling, not the sound of his last exhale. I can’t take a breath in this world without him.
“I can’t do it,” I tell him. “I can’t watch you die. I can’t be in this world without you—not even for a heartbeat.”
And still—beneath the panic, beneath the grief—there’s the truth I can’t ignore: I don’t want to die. I don’t want to put that gun to my head. I want to live. I want to grow. I want to experience the world the way that I choose. And I choose him, because I don’t know how to live without him.
He nods as if understanding.
“Then we do it together.” He lets go of me, and I’m bereft at the loss of his touch. He disappears from the room. My heart thumps furiously inside my chest, reminding me it’s here, and it wants to beat, but only for him.
When he returns, he’s holding another gun.
He presses it into my hand. It feels cold, brutal, yet necessary.
Tears stream down my face as he strokes the side of my cheek and raises his gun to his head.
“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I’m ready to die for you, Hayami. Ready to give my life for you, because you’re the only thing worth living for.” The barrel pushes up against his temple, his finger tracing the trigger.
Something swirls in my stomach. It isn’t fear. I’ve been ready to end my life for so long, I’m not afraid of it. And I’ve felt fear, smelled it, tasted it when I saw what happened to Noa Devall at the hands of my father. I welcome death if that pain is the alternative.
What I feel is loss.
The loss of a life I could have had—the sadness at not being able to spend more time with the one man who’s shown me what living is, who’s taught me more than any of my college lectures, has shown me who I can be, who I want to be.
I just never got the chance to live that life.
“I love you,” I tell Fenrir, and he nods, a tear rolling down his cheek. I catch it with my thumb as I raise the gun to the side of my head and press it against my temple.
“Kiss me,” I tell him.
He lowers his head as my finger finds the trigger. His lips meet mine and I savour him, devour him.
The last thing I’ll feel, the last thing I’ll experience, the only place I want to be as my finger tightens on the trigger is with him. I need to fire my gun first. I can’t be a second behind. My last feeling can’t be of his dead body in my arms.
I look into his eyes. His beautiful eyes.
The only man I’ve ever loved.
The only man I will ever love.
My first and my last.