The forest was as quiet as a grave.
At six in the morning, the first light of day had only just begun slipping between the trees, spreading across the forest floor in thin, pale streaks that caught on the frost and silvered the spiderwebs hanging between the branches.
The air was bitterly cold, and every breath they took escaped in soft white clouds before dissolving into the morning mist.
Haruki ran several steps ahead, maintaining an effortless, steady pace as though the cold and uneven ground were nothing worth noticing. Barely any sound escaped from his feet.
Hori, on the other hand, was already beginning to feel the weight of every step. Her sneakers struck the dirt in a rhythmic thud as she pumped her arms, her short hair bouncing lightly around her face with each movement.
Neither of them spoke.
The forest was filled only with the faint sounds of birds beginning to wake, the occasional crack of a twig beneath their shoes, and Hori's increasingly audible breathing whenever the path tilted upward.
She endured it for as long as she could before finally breaking the silence.
"I've never gone jogging before..." she admitted between breaths, her voice slightly strained. "Do we just... keep running? How long are we supposed to do this?"
Haruki didn't answer.
Hori glanced at him from behind.
His long, sleek hair swayed rhythmically with every stride, occasionally catching the pale morning light between the trees. Usually, Haruki couldn't remain quiet for more than a few minutes without making some ridiculous comment, teasing her about something, or simply talking for the sake of hearing himself speak.
This morning, however, there was none of that familiar playfulness.
He was quiet.
Too quiet.
His expression was distant, his eyes fixed somewhere ahead of them as though his attention wasn't entirely on the road.
Hori studied him for another few seconds, wondering what could possibly be occupying his mind so early in the morning.
Before she could ask, the trees began to thin.
The forest gradually gave way to the open countryside, and the narrow dirt path carrying them away from the inn stretched farther north toward the main road.
Beyond the trees, Fukui was still half-asleep beneath a pale blue sky, the first sunlight spilling quietly over distant rooftops and treetops while a thin layer of mist clung stubbornly to the ground.
The scent of wet grass and cedar followed them out of the forest.
A long stretch of gravel separated the path from the main road, cutting between quiet rice paddies that seemed almost frozen beneath the morning air.
Hori's pace finally faltered.
She slowed until she was running several feet behind Haruki, then stopped altogether and bent forward, placing both hands against her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.
Her legs already felt strangely heavy.
Apparently, becoming a priest was going to require considerably more physical preparation than she had anticipated.
Haruki continued for several steps before finally noticing that she was no longer beside him. He glanced over his shoulder, his expression still carrying that same distant quality from earlier.
"Ehh...?" he murmured, genuinely surprised. "You're already tired? We just left the forest."
Hori lifted her head, staring at him in disbelief.
Just left the forest?
She had been running long enough to question several of her life choices.
Haruki turned back toward the road without waiting for an answer.
"Come on."
And just like that, he started running again.
Hori stared after him for a moment before releasing a tired sigh. She straightened herself, adjusted her breathing, and hurried after him, her sneakers kicking small stones across the gravel as the morning sunlight caught the edges of her newly shortened hair.
Behind them, the forest disappeared into the mist.
Ahead of them, the road stretched toward Katsuyama.
Large gates emerged.
White concrete, trimmed hedges, and a small brass plate by the entrance: -SHO Medical Foundation. Katsuyama-
They'd jogged for 25 minutes and ended up here.
Haruki stopped at the bike rack. No warning. No cool-down.
His breathing wasn't fast at all, sparse strands of hair stuck to the back of his neck from all the running, but that was it.
Hori didn't stop that clean.
She stumbled two steps past him and bent over, hands braced on her thighs. Her chest heaved. It felt like someone was sitting on her lungs.
Sweat ran down her spine, cold now in the countryside air. Her legs were jelly. A dull burn had settled deep in her calves and wouldn't let go.
Every breath tasted like metal.
"It hurts..." she managed, between gasps. "I can't breathe...!"
Haruki wasn't looking at her when he spoke. "it hasn't even been half an hour. We're gonna be doing much more after today."
Hori gulped at his words.
Haruki was looking at the sliding doors. His shoulders had gone still. The easy runner's rhythm was gone, replaced by something tight and quiet. The same quiet from the forest.
"Let's go in," he said.
Hori ran her right hand through her hair.
Her heart was still hammering, but the ache had moved from her legs to her stomach.
"Okay" she said. Her voice came out rough. Not quite sure what they were doing at a hospital.
Haruki nodded once and they walked in. The doors hissed shut behind them.
The adrenaline was fading, and now all she could feel was the throb in her legs, the sweat cooling on her skin, and the fact that whatever was waiting inside was bad enough to make Haruki go quiet.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic.
Not the sharp, clinical smell Hori had expected, but something warmer and more unpleasant-the combined scent of disinfectant, medicine, damp clothing, and too many people breathing in the same enclosed space.
The SHO hospital's main corridor was crowded.
Hataki, the cleaners from before, moved quietly between beds and wheelchairs, some carrying clipboards, others carrying trays of medicine.
Several patients sat wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the building, their faces tired and distant. A few had gauze covering parts of their arms or shoulders. Others simply stared at the ceiling, saying nothing.
The hallway TV was mounted too high, angled down.
White text scrolling over red.
-SIN OF ARSON CLAIMS MULTIPLE LIVES. LOCAL PRIEST; ICHIRO NAKAMURA DIES AT AGE 72-
Hori stopped walking.
Just... stopped.
One foot still forward. The other didn't follow.
Her eyes didn't blink.
The words burned in and didn't move.
The kanji for Arson displayed boldly on the screen 放火.
Her chest felt tight. The hospital AC was cold on the back of her neck but her face was hot.
Footsteps kept going beside her, then didn't.
Haruki noticed immediately.
"What is it?" He asked.
It took her a second to hear him.
She turned toward him. Slow. Like her neck was rusted. "Huh?"
"You've been staring at the TV for a while."
She blinked. Once. Twice.
The screen was still there, showing the short luchador-inspired Priest without his mask.
He looked like any other old man.
"Well... Nakamura-san saved me when I woke up here. But he was killed in front me by that monster." She admitted, trying her best to remember without vomiting.
How his smashed entrails were slathered all over her like butter.
Of course he was dead, but Hori only seemed to truly acknowledge the fact that very moment.
"I'm fine." She added not to worry him.
Haruki didn't argue.
He just watched her for one beat too long. Then his expression smoothed back to nothing.
They continued down the corridor.
But Hori's steps were half a second behind.
And the name 'Ichiro Nakamura' kept scrolling behind her eyes even though the TV had moved on
The farther they went, the quieter it became. The emergency ward was separated from the rest of the hospital by a set of glass doors, and through them Hori could see rows of beds occupied by survivors from the fire.
She slowed again.
A young boy sat on one of the beds with his mother beside him. The woman spoke softly, trying to make him laugh.
A middle-aged man sat with his arms folded, staring blankly at the floor.
An elderly woman slept beneath a blanket while a Hataki checked the chart hanging at the foot of her bed.
Nobody looked particularly dramatic.
That was what unsettled Hori. There were no screaming patients. No chaos. No cinematic spectacle.
Just ordinary people sitting in silence, trying to recover from something that had happened to them.
Hori swallowed. "So many..." She too would've been amongst them. If only Haruki hadn't saved and miraculously healed her wounds.
A feat she would eventually have to question him about.
They reached the reception desk.
A tired-looking nurse sat behind it, sorting several patient files. She looked up when they approached.
"Can I help you?" She immediately asked.
Haruki stepped forward.
"Yeah. We're looking for some people."
The nurse waited.
"Matsumoto. It's their household name."
The nurse's fingers stopped moving.
It was subtle.
So subtle that Hori almost missed it.
But she didn't.
The nurse looked between them.
"Do you know their first names?"
Haruki hesitated. "Amane Matsumoto and his mother Eguchi Matsumoto."
Her expression changed.
There was simply a quiet heaviness that hadn't been there a moment earlier.
"I'm sorry."
Hori's eyebrows drew together.
"Sorry?"
The nurse glanced toward the files.
"no one with that name was brought in here."
Silence.
"I see..." Haruki said.
"Let me know if you need anything else," she said, already flipping through folders. Polite, but her attention clearly shifted back to work.
"That's all, thanks for your time.' Haruki appreciated.
The hospital suddenly seemed much quieter.
Even the television in the distance seemed to disappear.
Hori didn't move at first. She looked at Haruki's back, then gave the nurse a small bow and fell into step behind him.
The distance to the exit felt shorter.
The hospital doors closed behind them with a soft pneumatic hiss.
And for the rest of the walk, Hori had that quiet expression Haruki had that morning.
---
Haruki slouched, hands buried in his pockets, eyes fixed on the clouds above.
"Y'know... the Matsumotos are probably dead." He said out of nowhere.
Hori flinched from his sudden remark, but slowly nodded in agreement. "Yes, the nurse said they were never admitted...they must've been pronounced dead at the scene."
Haruki sighed, more irritated than anything.
"Everyone I get close to dies. It's happened 6 times now."
He laughed, but there was nothing in it.
Haruki let the words fall out of him before he could stop them.
"How the hell am I supposed to make friends... if this is how it ends every time?"
His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles going white. Not from sadness. From frustration. From being tired of the loop.
Hori startled at the anger in his voice. She scrambled for some way to intervene.
She brought her hands together in front of her chest, bowing her head slightly. "May their souls rest in perfect peace."
But the gesture didn't feel right. Like she'd pulled it from nowhere.
Haruki didn't respond right away.
He stared for 3 seconds.
Then he turned his head slowly, eyes landing on her to his left.
"I don't really believe in the afterlife."
His voice was flat when it came out.
"R-really?"
The words came out too fast. Hori couldn't hide it. His bluntness felt cruel, uncalled for.
"Well," Haruki shrugged, like they were talking about the weather. "I just think humans are animals. Like Dogs, Cats, Mice. When they die, they die. That's it."
Hori let out a laugh inside her head. Bitter.
"You're talking like you're not one of us... 'Mr. Sin'." She jested to ease the atmosphere.
The nickname stuck from his joke days back. After the unsettling memory of him devouring a Sinner.
Haruki glanced at her, then looked away again.
"I'll be honest," he said, voice even. "My job involves un-aliving people. So when I watch them bleed out, it feels the same as slaughtering cattle. No light. No soul leaving the body. Nothing like that ever occurs to me, y'know?"
Hori froze mid-breath.
Cold ran down her arms. 'A-an assassin? Haruki-san is an assassin...!' she panicked.
"Huh?"
Haruki's voice cut through it. He gave her a look, as if reading her mind.
Then flicked his wrist as if the thought were an insect.
"Relax. I'm a mercenary. Assassin makes it sound like I'm some edgy one-trick pony."
Hori still didn't respond, sweat rolling down her brows. Haruki noticed.
"So what about you? You believe in the after life don't you?" He asked the buffering Hori.
She stammered in her response.
"I don't... actually think it matters...?" Her opinion was strange however.
"Explain." Haruki asked as they walked.
"Even if heaven, hell, reincarnation. The whole lot...if any of them are real... does it really matter?" She tried clarifying. Haruki raised a brow.
"M-my point is...we can't talk to the ghosts of the dead, and they can't talk to us. Neither of us benefit. So why spend your life believing a forever after exists when you gain nothing from it." Her pitch increased.
"And if you argue that the concept of hell instills fear and discipline...then needing eternal punishment in a pit of fire as a warrant for bad deeds doesn't really make you a good person to begin with... Does that make any sense?"
Haruki stared. "Hmm... never thought about it like that...."
His voice sounded almost appraising.
Eyes slightly shocked from Hori's opinion.
"I guess we aren't that different huh." Hori admitted, their trek from the hospital nearly over as the forest grew closer and closer.
Hori's voice dropped.
"But evil is punished here too. Even before death."
She shuddered, the thought turning her stomach.
"Sinners. They were human once. Every single one."
Haruki folded his arms.
"Well, maybe that's the whole point. No afterlife. So they get punished here instead. Because there's no hell waiting for them."
Hori forced a smile.
"I... highly doubt that, Haruki-san."
He chuckled.
"You've got a weird way of talking. For someone who's 14."
"S-so I've been told," she said quietly, twisting her fingers together.
The path ended there.
The forest was right in front of them at last.