A solemn sunrise shined its faded, deep-orange light on the Senkumo base the next morning. It was so early, but most of the clan was already awake, tending to the bodies brought home from the battle against Yoshihisa. That included Tsukiakari, who sat outside on the steep steps of the storage building. The morning wind slowly lifted and released her majestically long, raven hair as she sat there, staring off into the orange-tipped horizon. She could hear the faint, melancholic melody of a koto below. Perhaps one of the troops decided to start playing, hoping to soothe the aching hearts of their comrades. The notes were drenched in nostalgic reminiscence, yet burned with a poignant bitterness. The song did nothing but echo through her empty, hollow self.
Suddenly, a ball of red yarn protruded into her peripheral vision, slowly rolling up to her thigh. Tsukiakari picked it up and looked around, but she didn't see anyone coming to reclaim the ball. The yarn was almost perfectly wound into a flawless, round shape, but Tsukiakari noticed that a few inches of the yarn had come loose. Her eyes remained fixated on this ball of yarn. She held it close to her as if it were a precious child, her vision growing wavy and blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
"Gekko? Is that you?" rang the voice of Ayadachi
Tsukiakari jumped up a bit, startled by Ayadachi's silent approach. "Ayadachi? I...I thought..."
Ayadachi's expression was hard to read with the blindfold covering her wounded eyes.
"You thought what?"
Tsukiakari nodded her head from side to side. "Nevermind. My head's just a mess, that's all. Is this yarn yours?"
"Ah, yes it is! My apologies, I dropped it just now and I couldn't find it."
"Don't worry about it. Here, open your hand."
Ayadachi did as she was asked. Tsukiakari gently plopped the ball of yarn back into her hand, but only for a moment. Ayadachi was suddenly pushed aside by a furious Chiharu, knocking the yarn back onto the ground. Tsukiakari's eyes followed Ayadachi as she lost her balance, struggling not to fall over. She didn't see the ceramic urn that Chiharu reached her hand inside of.
Chiharu furiously screamed at her lord. "It's your fault! You got them all killed! You! You did this!
She quickly pulled her hand out of the urn, throwing a fistful of ashes onto Tsukiakari. The ashes coated the front of her black robes, the ends of her raven hair, and even her face. Stunned, Tsukiakari's scuttled backwards, coughing up particles of ash that slipped into her mouth and nose. Several other young girls and a few nurses raced out of the storage building, crying for Chiharu to stop immediately. She paid no heed to their calls.
"They all entrusted their lives to you, and you still let them die!" Chiharu screamed.
Terrified, Ayadachi tried to intervene. "Chiharu, please calm down!"
Chiharu bombarded Tsukiakari with more screams. "I hate you! I hate you! It should've been you!"
Chiharu was suddenly and violently pulled aside by her hair. It was Taeko that reigned her in. Chiharu's anger then focused itself on Taeko, one of the strictest adults on base, who loomed over her like a great shadow.
"That's enough." Taeko calmly stated. "Take your friends and go spread the ashes. Don't wander far from base."
Chiharu angrily gnashed her teeth, her grip tightening around the urn. She let out a final scream and threw the urn against the ground, shattering it and releasing the ashes. Taeko remained unmoved by her behavior.
"You think they'll appreciate that? Having their ashes spread across the floor?" Taeko teased.
Seeing what she had done, Chiharu's anger wilted into a deep sadness. Tears fell from her eyes like rain drops upon the pile of ashes at her feet. Ayadachi slowly approached Chiharu, gently laying her hand on her shoulders. The other young girls crowded around her as she released her sobs. Taeko kept her eyes fixed on Chiharu as the girls hugged her. She made it a point to herself not to look away from her anguish. Tsukiakari saw the tears swell in Taeko's eyes as well, but she fought them back enough so they would not fall.
"That's it..." Taeko whispered. "Let it all out..."
By the time noon came, the base was swamped with an unbearable heat. Most of the bodies had already been cremated, and the medical team spent their time cleaning the floors of the storage building. They mopped it down, scrubbed it spotless, and washed it with buckets of hot water. The remaining members of the deceased's teams were given their ashes, free to keep or dispose of them as they wished. Taeko and Mayumi worked tirelessly to make the whole operation run as fast and smoothly as possible. The wounded from the battle were treated in the medical ward. Dozens of patients were still in critical condition, unsure if they'd live long enough to recover from their wounds. Nurses frantically ran about, carrying clean cloths, scalpels, alcohol, and other tools through the halls. Tsukiakari still hadn't washed the ashes off of her face.
Mayumi found time to take a small break after distributing supplies to surgeons in need. She found Tsukiakari sitting by her lonesome in the entrance hall, her head hung low.
"Gekko? Are you alright?"
Tsukiakari raised her head, revealing her ash-covered face. Mayumi immediately took her hand rag and wiped her face off for her.
"I heard what happened." Mayumi said, clearing the ashes from Tsukiakari's eyes. "Her teammates wanted us to let you know they're sorry. She was just...really upset. Everyone is right now. I had to let one of our nurses take a break after one of the patient's died on her watch. She was torn up about it."
"They have nothing to be sorry for. No one does. It's all on me." Tsukiakari mumbled with clouded eyes.
"Gekko, listen to me. What happened...it...it wasn't your fault, okay? The Ashikaga are a powerful enemy to have. The battle was destined to end in heavy casualties for both sides."
"Do you actually believe that, Mayumi? Do you?"
Mayumi hesitated. "I..."
"Mayumi!" A nurse called from down the hall. "We need you in here!"
"Ahh! I'm on my way!" she responded. "Sorry, Gekko. I have to go. We'll talk later."
Tsukiakari silently waved goodbye as Mayumi ran off. She continued to sit in silence, stuck in her clouded, guilty thoughts. She felt imprisoned, trapped in her own flesh. She wished she could've just separated from her body and flown off somewhere as a detached spirit, free from physical sensations of every kind. She's be free to wander, to disappear into the deep, blue sky and simply vanish. No matter how many times she would die, she would only reincarnate. Over and over. Over and over again, stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of birth, rebirth. Birth, rebirth. Birth, rebirth.
She felt a sudden nudge at her foot. Looking down, she saw Ayadachi's red ball of yarn again. She picked it up and looked around, seeing nobody was there. She took a closer look at the yarn, noticing even more of it had come undone. She sighed, trying to wind the loose thread of yarn back into the ball. No matter how much she tried, it just seemed...out of place. The loose thread just couldn't rejoin the ball in a way that seemed natural. It couldn't be wound tightly enough, so it ruined the ball's otherwise flat surface.
"Oh darn...where did I drop it now?" Ayadachi said, walking down the hall towards Tsukiakari.
"Looking for this?" Tsukiakari asked, holding up the yarn.
Ayadachi blushed. "Gekko? Oh, do you have my yarn again? I'm sorry! I keep dropping it lately."
Ayadachi gently dragged her fingertips against the walls in order to feel her way around. This made up for her blindness, somewhat, allowing her to navigate the base at a slow pace.
"Here, let me help you." Tsukiakari insisted. She took Ayadachi's hand and slowly guided her onto one of the chairs.
"Ahhh, it feels nice to sit down again. Thanks, Gekko."
Tsukiakari plopped the ball of yarn into her hand. "No problem. What are you doing with this yarn anyway? Are you making something with it?"
"Gekko..." Ayadachi giggled. "Don't be silly. I can't see anything, so what could I possibly make?"
"Oh...I'm sorry..."
"That was a trick question!" Ayadachi cheered. "I'm making Cat's Cradle!"
Tsukiakari's eyes widened in realization. "Oh! I suppose you don't really need to see anything to make Cat's Cradle. You're comfortable enough just feeling your way around?"
"Mhmm!" she exclaimed with a nod. "Well...as you can see, I haven't actually made any progress. It's kind of difficult to make Cat's Cradle with one arm, you see. I was asking my teammates to help me earlier but they're all giving me the cold shoulder."
"That's not surprising. I doubt they're in the mood for yarn games during a time like this."
"Ohh...I guess you're right." Ayadachi agreed with a saddened tone.
She felt around the ball of yarn with the tips of her fingers, momentarily hypnotized by its texture. It was oddly stimulating. Or perhaps, it wasn't so odd at all. Robbed of her sight, she had to rely on her other senses, valuing touch above the rest.
"You're right, Gekko. Maybe I should stop bothering them about it. I just...I guess I just don't want them to be so sad that they forget me, you know?"
"Time heals all wounds. Let them have their space for now, and they'll eventually agree to make Cat's Cradle with you."
"I hope you're right."
A pair of thundering footsteps from up the hall startled the two. Tsukiakari stood up to see who it was, coming face to face with the Otonougi twins.
"Yachi? Chiya?" Tsukiakari asked, surprised to see them in a rush.
Yachi, out of breath, presented a sealed letter to her lord. "We just received this from our courier. It's got an Ashikaga seal on it."
"It's supposedly from Tomiko." Chiya added.
"Tomiko?" Ayadachi curiously questioned from her seat.
Tsukiakari immediately broke the seal and opened the letter. Yachi and Chiya crowded around her as she read it aloud. Some of the nurses nearby also heard her read the letter from down the hall.
"To the Wretched Tsukiakari Senkumo. My son, Yoshihisa, has returned to me. In a box. Do you feel good now? Do you feel like a true goddess, forcing a mother to bury her child? I will not see my baby boy silenced by your blade. I will tell the whole world what you did, and that you failed to hide it. I'll tell the people of this country that your society is the kind that brings death and misery upon the innocent. I shall never forgive your lowly kind. From one demon to another, I'll see you in hell."
"It's to be expected." Yachi said. "Forgive me for saying this, Gekko, but...we are the ones that wronged them first."
"What should we do?" Chiya asked.
Tsukiakari crumbled the letter. "Consider the Ashikaga our permanent enemies. If we have any trade or message routes still cutting through their territory, alter them accordingly. Any Ashikaga soldiers you see within our province is to be engaged on sight."
"If that's your choice, we're with you." Yachi proclaimed. "Let's go, Sis. We should inform the appropriate units."
"Right." Chiya agreed.
Ayadachi watched with concerned eyes as Tsukiakari stood there, paralyzed. A once amicable friend and valuable asset was now her sworn enemy. Tsukiakari sat there the whole day, even when Ayadachi got up to leave. The afternoon came and went like a flash of lightning. The dying light of sunset crept through the medical ward's windows, streaking across her face. The medical ward had quieted down and became less frantic. The resulting quietude left Tsukiakari room to lose herself in a cloud of vague, draining thoughts. She sat there on the same seat she'd been at the whole day, as still a corpse.
Taeko emerged from her office and marched down the halls. Seeing Tsukiakari in the entrance hall, she stopped and sat down with her. The two remained silent for quite a while.
"I've assigned some of the nurses on counseling positions. At least one of our patients is going to need psychological assistance. She's going through some...odd symptoms." Taeko explained.
"What do you mean?"
"Her surviving teammates informed the nurse that her recollection of events during the battle are inconsistent. She either remembers things that didn't happen as if they did, or she doesn't remember things that actually did occur. She's also shown very few signs of emotional distress or grief."
Tsukiakari turned her head towards Taeko. "After everything she went through?"
"Yeah. Apparently, the teammates brought up the names of some of the deceased during their conversation. But...the patient recalls them as being alive. She insists they survived the battle, despite what everyone else is telling her. The nurses ultimately decided not to press the issue too much. The situation was too stressful for her teammates. They left her mementos from their late comrades in hopes they would jog her memory, but no luck yet."
"Do we know what's happening to her? Is she just in denial?"
"No, I don't think so. The doctors are certain she's not faking it or putting on an act. There's no signs she suffered any serious head injuries either. She's genuinely separated herself from her own experience. We're not entirely sure what to make of it yet. Her memories are all fragmented and altered, as if she's trying to protect herself from what she really went through."
Tsukiakari held her forehead in her hand. "Do we have any cases similar to this?"
"Nothing yet, but I'm certain plenty of the troops will need some sort of counseling, especially the younger ones. I'll have all the reports ready within a few days."
"Thank you, Taeko."
Taeko got up from her seat, standing with her hands on her hip.
"Listen, Gekko..." she said, unable to look Tsukiakari in the eyes. "It's not your fault, okay?"
"I wished I believed that." Tsukiakari sighed.
Taeko turned around, patting Tsukiakari on the shoulder. "I'll be in our room. Don't stay here too long."
Taeko walked off, leaving Tsukiakari alone once more. For a moment, she almost wished she could switch places with the patient Taeko described. How nice it would've been, to be relieved of the burden of memory, to not have to confront or accept those horrors. It wasn't so easy for Tsukiakari to forget. There was nothing to protect her from her own experience, her own guilt.
The fading light of dusk was stolen by the darkness. A full moon shined in the night sky, looming above the Senkumo base with unrelenting brightness. Still, Tsukiakari stayed right where she was, right in that same seat. As she sat there, a red ball of yarn protruded through her peripheral vision. It rolled on the ground and into her center view, leaving a trail of thread until it almost unraveled completely. Tsukiakari stood up, looking around for Ayadachi. The halls were steeped in shadow, broken up only by the hanging lanterns mounted on the walls. Their flickering, amber glow were like small spotlights in the darkness. With no sign of Ayadachi around, Tsukiakari chose to follow the trail of yarn down the hall.
The faint sounds of anguished groans grew louder the further she walked down the hall. Eventually, the trail led her through an opened door leading into one of the patients' rooms. Ayadachi lied on the bed, writing and groaning in pain. She held her hand to her temple, as if the pain was coming from her head. A black-haired nurse wearing a white surgical mask stood at her bedside, gently stroking Ayadachi's cheeks to comfort her. Ayadachi's black robes lied at her bedside, neatly folded. She appeared to have stripped down to her white jinbei set, as her top was rolled up to her breasts, revealing her sweat-drenched torso.
"What's going on?" Tsukiakari asked, startling the nurse
She quickly responded in surprise "Gekko!"
Ayadachi's groans intensified. She flailed her legs around in pain, prompting Tsukiakari to rush by her side and aid the nurse in holding her down.
"Just hold her down!" the nurse urged. "I already gave her medicine."
Tsukiakari's heart raced with worry watching Aydachi suffer so much. The medicine seemed to have settled in after a few minutes, however. She slowly calmed down, her groans quieting into soft, breathy whimpers. Tsukiakari's hand felt as though it was enwreathed in fire as she continued to hold her down by her stomach. Even her breath was hot and visible under the light of her bedside lantern. A few minutes later, Ayadachi slipped into a peaceful slumber, her pain subsiding. The nurse sighed a breath of relief.
"What happened?" Tsukiakari asked. "She was fine a few hours ago."
"Honestly, I'm not sure. She started complaining about headaches at first, so she came here to lie down. When I came back to check on her, she was already writhing in pain. She couldn't talk much, but she said it was her eyes bothering her the most."
"Her eyes? You mean the phantom eye syndrome Taeko warned about?"
"Yeah, I think so. She was mumbling too, as if she were having a nightmare. Odd thing is, she wasn't asleep."
Tsukiakari turned her sympathetic gaze towards the sleeping Ayadachi. "Nightmares without sleeping?"
"Taeko did mention she'd be likely to experience hallucinations along with phantom pain in her missing eyes. It seemed like she was seeing things concerning the battle."
"The battle? But she couldn't have seen anything from the battle in the first place."
"Yeah, I know. I'm no expert like Taeko or Mayumi, but I can take a guess. I think her brain is building visual scenes of the battle, using other sensory information she received during that time as building blocks. She's probably seeing it via her hallucinations, as if they're real. Also, there's something else you should know, Gekko."
"What is it?"
"In her hallucinations...she seemed to think she was part of the reinforcements that arrived after you died in the field."
"What? No, she was instructing the medical staff in the camp behind our lines. She wasn't far off from the fighting at all."
"So I've heard." the nurse sighed. "I don't know what to think about it. It could just be her hallucinations, but she seemed to be remembering key details of the battle all wrong. Where she was, when she arrived, what she felt. It's almost like she thought she was an entirely different person. Whatever was going on in her head, she felt incredibly guilty about it. I'm not sure what it is or why."
"I guess we won't know for sure until she wakes up."
"Yeah, you're right. We still have our late-night staff here. I'll have them keep an eye on her. As for now, she's fast asleep."
The nurse stood up, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She tied her hair into a ponytail and took her small tray of herbal medicine with her on the way out. She stopped at the door, unable to look at Tsukiakari directly.
"Gekko..."
"Yes?"
"It's not your fault."
The raven-haired nurse then disappeared into the darkness of the hall, leaving Tsukiakari with Ayadachi. She cleared the loose strands of her away from her sleeping face, careful to make her touch as gentle as possible. She couldn't dare wake the poor girl. It was late, about the time Tsukiakari would retire for bed. She just couldn't leave Ayadachi. She felt it was her duty to stand by her side until she was better. So, gently holding Ayadachi's hand, Tsukiakari lied her head at her bedside, deciding she would fall asleep.
"Don't let go...Gekko..." Ayadachi whispered.
Tsukiakari shot her head up, gazing at Ayadachi's pained expression as she slept.
"I'm scared...Don't let go...Don't let go of me..."
"Ayadachi..." Tsukiakari muttered, tears swelling in her bloodshot eyes. "I'm right here, okay? I won't let go of you. I won't."
Tsukiakari spent the next hour keeping a close watch on Ayadachi, her eyes mostly focused on her sleeping face. Before she knew it, Tsukiakari joined her in a deep slumber. She couldn't remember at what point she fell asleep, nor could she remember closing her eyes at all. It just happened as fast as one could blink. That deep sleep was her only respite from the pain burning like a fire in her chest. As if she had reached nirvana, the deep dark of her slumber comforted her. There was no more sadness or anger, no guilt or joy. For just those few hours, she knew blissful rest.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZeomtLGCbcTsukiakari's silent rest gently crumbled away. The soft sound of yarn being spun and woven woke her up. Ayadachi had already gotten up and brought her unraveled ball of yarn back to bed with her.
"Ayadachi?" Tsukiakari asked, still too tired to open her eyes.
"Gekko? Is that you? Is that really you?" Ayadachi asked, frightened by the sudden voice.
"Of course it is. You...you didn't sense me here?"
"Oh, I guess not! My apologies. I'm not feeling too well right now. My senses feel dulled. Even this yarn doesn't quite feel the same against my fingertips."
"The yarn..." Tsukiakari muttered, turning her eyes towards the red mess in Ayadachi's hand. "It's completely unraveled."
"Yeah, it felt like that was the case. Maybe I should just give up on the Cat's Cradle, huh?"
Tsukiakari smiled. "Of course not, silly. Give it here. We'll do it together."
Ayadachi held up her hand, letting Tsukiakari wound the yarn around her fingers. Tsukiakari then used her own hand to complete the Cat's Cradle, making identical loops around her own finger.
"Okay, ready?" Tsukiakari joyfully questioned.
"I think so! What shape are we going for?"
"Who knows? Who even cares? Let's just make something!"
The two awkwardly maneuvered their fingers about, laughing all the while.
"Gekko, I think we're pretty bad at this." Ayadachi chuckled.
"Not at all, it's just you. I'm the Cat's Cradle master around here."
"That's a lie, isn't it?"
"Okay, yeah. I suck at this. Oh wait! I think we're making a shape!"
"R-Really?! Is it a star? Maybe a double diamond?!" Ayadachi excitedly guessed.
"Here, let me just adjust your thumb..." Tsukiakari insisted.
She slipped Ayadachi's thumb out of the section of yarn around it, gently guiding it into a new section.
"Okay, now you should be able to move your thumb to complete the shape."
"Gekko, you're actually not very bad at this at all!" Ayadachi cheered with a giggle.
For all the elation Ayadachi was receiving, Tsukiakari's eyes lowered in despair. In reality, the two weren't making a shape at all. Their Cat's Cradle was a sloppy, incomplete mess. No one could help Ayadachi make a shape, and the yarn couldn't be rewound into the perfect ball it once was either. She fought hard to keep her tears and self-hatred bottled up, her suppressed sobs beating on the inside of her chest. All she could do was give Ayadachi that hallow, phantom joy to counteract the excruciating phantom pain.
"We made a star, Ayadachi..."
"We did? Ah, finally! We at least managed one shape! I can't wait to play this with my teammates! Oh...I mean, when they're feeling better, of course."
"Yeah..."
Ayadachi could sense Tsukiakari's waning mood. "Gekko? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just a little bit tired, is all."
Ayadachi nodded and set aside the yarn. "My apologies. Let's go back to sleep, okay? We shouldn't be up at odd hours playing Cat's Cradle. It was fun though, right?"
"Yeah. It was."
The two set aside their games and returned to their slumbers. This time, it was much less peaceful for Tsukiakari. The bliss was gone, and only the deep dark remained. She couldn't help but wonder why it all had to be this way. Why was she, a goddess, so powerless to stop all of the suffering around her? Perhaps some of the soldiers were wondering the same thing. Why, when you entrust someone with your life, do they always let you down in the end? Why does it always end this way?
A violent jolt in the earth rattled Tsukiakari awake. The ground shook violently, knocking the flower vases off the nightstand at Ayadachi's bedside. The walls shook and creaked all around, waking Ayadachi as well.
"An earthquake?!" Tsukiakari cried, trying to make sense of her crumbling surroundings.
Ayadachi let out a terrorized scream as she held her hand over her head, shielding herself from falling debris.
Tsukiakari threw herself over Ayadachi, protecting her with her own body. "Ayadachi! Stay calm!"
"Don't let go! Don't let go! Please don't let go! Don't let me go!" Ayadachi cried, over and over.
"I won't let go! I won't!"
Tsukiakari caught the reflection of a raven-haired nurse in the rattling hand mirror mounted on the wall. She turned her head, intending to ask for her help in protecting Ayadachi. But when she turned, the nurse wasn't there. No one was there. The thunderous cracking of rock and snapping of wood outside turned her attention to the window, where she caught view of a great oak tree falling towards the building. In that moment, she held onto Ayadachi more tightly than ever, as if she'd disappear at any moment. She closed her eyes, part of her praying, part of her remembering.
She had seen this all play out before, back during the battle against Yoshihisa. She remembered being in the Senkumo camp two days after the battle began. Wounded Senkumo men and women were rushed back to the camp almost every hour. She remembered flashes of the nurses frantically trying to keep their patients stable. She remembered doctors and surgeons covered in blood. She remembered she violent shaking and earth-shattering jolts that rocked the camp and filled their tent with screams of the frightened. Those were no earthquakes. Ashikaga trebuchets were bombarding their position from afar. Her reckless assault against the Ashikaga left a crucial opening in their lines, allowing a siege detachment to slip past them and attack their camp.
The flashes felt so real, so familiar. And yet, Tsukiakari couldn't reconcile this clear conflict. If she was on the front lines, leading the assault, just what was she doing back at camp?
Just like the ball of yarn, everything came undone. Everything unraveled.
Everything.
When she awoke, she was alone on the bed, her face soaked in tears. She lied there on her back, clutching the unraveled yarn tightly to her chest. The earthquake had made a mess of the room, but the medical ward received no serious damage whatsoever. The walls were intact, and only a few pieces of furniture and decorations were damaged or knocked over.
"Hey! Is someone in there?!" Taeko shouted from behind the door.
Still dazed by the quake, she could only lie there and watch as Taeko, Mayumi, and a few of the nurses barged through the sliding door. Taeko was the first to enter, and the first to rush to her side.
"Hey, are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" Taeko asked.
Mayumi followed right behind. "It looks like she's okay! Thank goodness!
Her vision cleared as the nurses also flooded into the room. Finally, the final person to enter the room...was Tsukiakari. The war goddess knelt by her side, gazing into her eyes with tears of relief flowing down her cheeks.
"You're alright, sweetheart. We're lucky that tree didn't fall through."
"Everyone's accounted for, Gekko. Doesn't look like anyone was hurt, nor have we sustained any great damage. Just one hell of an earthquake." Taeko said.
"Excellent. Girls, go get the rooms cleaned up and the patients situated again." Tsukiakari commanded. "Mayumi, you mind expecting the exterior for any damage?"
"On it." Mayumi responded.
"I'll go help the nurses out. Take care of this one." Taeko urged.
This one? She looked down at her clothes, seeing she was in the standard nurse's white robes. She had trouble remembering her name, who she was, or where she was. Her recent memories were all scattered and fragmented, as if to protect her. However, she could clearly remember just one thing. Ayadachi.
Tsukiakari sighed. "Okay, time to get up, Inori. If you're not hurt, we've got a of work to do."
Inori. That was her name. Apparently, she was a nurse in the Senkumo clan, though she could've sworn she was exactly who she was looking at just a few hours ago.
"Where...where's Ayadachi?"
Tsukiakari snapped her head, locking her puzzled eyes with Inori's. "Ayadachi? I..."
Inori stood herself up, still holding the unraveled yarn at her foot. She looked around, seeing no sign of Ayadachi.
"Did she wander off again?" Inori asked.
Tsukiakari stepped forth, laying her hand on Inori's shoulder. "So that's why you were asked to take a break."
"What do you mean?"
"Inori...Ayadachi...died. She died back at camp."
Inori stood there, confused and petrified. "No, I...I saw her...I..."
Tsukiakari moved her hand from Inori's shoulder to her cheek. "There was nothing you could've done. It was my fault. All of the blame is on me. Come on. We have to help out. I'll be outside when you're ready."
As Tsukiakari left the room, Inori began to finally make sense of it all. Ayadachi never made it home alive. Despite shielding her during the attack on their camp, Ayadachi still died. She couldn't protect her. She wondered how much of what she experienced in the past day was real or imagined. For all she knew, she could've even been remembering everything out of order. All she knew was that the pain of being unable to save someone who so desperately wanted to live still lingered. The unraveled yarn she held close to her only made it feel all the more fresh and recent. Ayadachi may have died days ago, but she was only now coming to terms with it. Only now accepting it.
The next day, the Senkumo would make a small trip, on foot, to the Katsura river, to spread the ashes of their fallen. Inori watched from afar as Ayadachi's surviving teammates tearfully said their goodbyes, letting her ashes become one with the glimmering, summer waters of the river. She didn't know Ayadachi that well. She had only seen her a couple time and made small-talk here and there. Such was the plight of nurses like her, and even more so for surgeons. She was there for people in their greatest time of need. She gave them food, water, touch, and comfort. It was her duty to fill her patients with hope, so they'd keep fighting, keep living. Even if it was brief, that bond formed on the fork road of life and death was one of great intensity.
Ayadachi didn't want to die. She was scared to leave this world. For Inori, she had to accept that she had done everything she possibly could that day.
And so, watching Ayadachi's ashes flow down the river, she found some peace knowing that her soul would be making its great journey into the next life. Just how a Senkumo nurse must make her journey into the next day, accepting all that is, was, and ever will be.