Blossoms of the Dark

CXCIV Shouto: Chamomile

Trigger Warning:

- PTSD nightmare

- self-harm

- hints of depression

- implied sexual assault

- mention of rape

- panic attack

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It has been just over a week since I spoke to Sasaki-san.

Within that time, I have juggled my work-study, two exams, visits with Mom, and evidence collection.

I'm burnt out.

On a happy note, I did well on my exams.

On a troubling note, Selene's health is deteriorating, which snatches all the joy.

Every Saturday evening a car comes to pick her up; every Sunday evening she is dropped off. Within those twenty-four hours, I have no clue what happens to her inside the Hanada manor. During those twenty-four hours, I function restlessly.

My intention was to keep her away from Hanada-shi as much as possible. But if we are going to amass proof, there is no choice but for her to return there every weekend. It is a necessary sacrifice to achieve the goal, but it bothers me every time I have to let her go.

Hence in spite of my exhaustion, I am unable to sleep this Friday night.

Selene and I lie in her bed. The crescent moon peeps from beyond the slight gap in the curtains, filtered further by the white mosquito net, illuminating the room partially. The light dances across Selene's features, mesmerizing me in their movements.

Her chest rises and falls steadily. The braid has come undone. I watch her eyes flutter in the dreamscape her mind has drifted to. She looks at peace. That brings me some consolation. I release her hands and push back some stray strands of hair that tickle her nose. "Your dream must be beautiful," I murmur. "I wish I could join you."

After she had come back that Sunday evening, I explained the situation to her. She agreed to play her role and gave me Ahearn-san's contact information. But something had caught my attention. Selene appeared ... how should I put it ... deader. There is no such thing as being more dead, but it was the best way I could describe it. Her movements were more slow and sluggish than usual, and her eyes lost some of their luster. As soon as I finished talking, her attention drifted elsewhere. Somewhere deep inside herself. It took me two minutes to bring her back to reality. She apologized, claiming that it was the first time she had been so unfocused. I knew better, though. She may not have realized it, but since the implementation of the dormitory system last summer, her mental stability slowly began to waver.

Every week she spends a day and night at the mansion. I know nothing of the events there, but I see their consequences. Every week she returns, having devolved into the chasm of insanity a little more.

She smiles at me and brushes off the pain for my sake. Yet I cannot appreciate it when I understand that evasion does not erase the problem. It is a constant reminder that there is no time to spare. The longer it takes to gather evidence, the more Selene's mental health will spiral out of control. The more I risk losing her.

So as I watch her sleep, I contemplate my next moves to keep her safe.

Tomorrow, I should call Ahearn-san. London time runs eight hours behind Tokyo time, so if I call during the late evening, it should be early afternoon there. That means I must reach out to her when Selene is not here. In that case, telling Selene to carry a recording device on her persona might be a good start. If she catches anything incriminating, we can make a backup file for that.