The healer said he was fine.
"No broken bones. No wounds. No fever," she said, brushing dust from her sleeves. "His body's whole.
His mind…"
She paused.
Then offered us tea.
Tatsuya lay on a futon in the far corner of the room, his face pale, his eyes distant. He blinked, drank when we helped him. Answered when we spoke. But his words were slow, like someone remembering how to form them.
"Where did you go?" I asked him quietly, once we were alone.
But he never answered.
***
Rin stayed closest to him. She didn't speak much. Just kept her small charm beside her while she sat.
Watching him. Guarding him.
Sayo sat by the window, legs crossed, staring at the sky like it might shift again. Her hair had fallen over her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice.
"He's still not all here," she said softly.
"What do you mean?"
She glanced at me. "I can feel his thread. But it's tangled. Like he's only… partially awake."
I looked back toward Tatsuya. He didn't move.
"We need to take him back," I said. "To Shuji."
Rin nodded. "He'll know what to do."
I wasn't sure of that.
But I didn't say it aloud.
***
That night, the four of us stayed in the same room.Rin slept near the wall, her hand loosely curled around Tatsuya's sleeve. Sayo drifted off near the hearth, still sitting upright. I sat awake the longest, staring at the ceiling, listening to the wind against the shutters.
Then I heard the clock.
Tick.
Tick.
Soft. Distant.
I turned—but there was no clock in the room.
Only Tatsuya.
His lips were moving.
And though I couldn't hear the words, I knew what he was saying.
He was reciting a memory.
But not one from his life.