Day Seven
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, Distant Past
Takeshi, only four years old, crawled across the living room floor, afternoon light streaming through the windows. His parents were in the kitchen, their voices a distant murmur. The exposed cable behind the television had always been there, a hazard his father meant to fix but never did.
He reached his hand out to it, curious. When his small finger touched the copper wire, the electricity bounced from the wire to his fingertips. It didn't shock him the way it should have. Didn't make him cry or pull away. Instead it clung to his skin, dancing across his fingertip like it belonged there.
He brought his other hand up, index finger extended. When the fingers nearly touched, the electricity jumped between them, forming a tiny lightning bridge.
He grabbed the cable with his whole hand and the energy grew, spreading across his palm, crawling up his wrist. When he brought both hands together and held them facing each other, blue lightning coursed between them.
At that moment, Takeshi realized he could manipulate elements.
He decided to keep this information from the public.
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, Eleven Years Later
Takeshi was on his knees in his living room. A body lay on the floor a few feet in front of him, sprawled out, not moving. Blue electricity still warped through it, crackling in the chest, the limbs, the open eyes.
Takeshi looked at his hands. They were still sparking.
"How did this happen?" His voice cracked. "How could I let this happen?"
He stayed there on the floor. Crying. In shock. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat there, staring at what he'd done.
Police sirens grew closer.
Something started wrapping around his throat. A scarf. It sat there softly at first. Then it squeezed, pressing into his windpipe.
The door burst open. Riot shields. Guns. Six officers poured in.
"Surrender or we shoot!"
Takeshi was on his knees, both hands clawing at the scarf, tears still on his face. The officers slowed.
"Should we shoot? What's going on with him?"
"Doesn't matter. If you don't comply right now, we're gonna shoot!"
Takeshi could barely breathe. "Do it," he choked out. "I don't want this anymore."
They opened fire.
Rocks erupted from the floor and blocked every round. The scarf loosened.
Takeshi gasped, staring at the wall of stone he hadn't made.
"What?" He looked down at the scarf. "Who are you?"
"You need to kill them."
"I can't kill them."
"They just shot at a kid crying on the floor. You begged them to do it and they didn't even hesitate. How human does that make them?"
Takeshi didn't answer.
"Hold the wall. Rock element."
Takeshi pressed his hands against the stone. It held.
"Now your left hand. Focus."
Something cold gathered in his palm. Thick. Purple.
"Throw it."
He threw the venom over the wall. The sounds that followed lasted maybe four seconds. When he looked, there were six purple puddles where people used to be.
Takeshi's legs gave out. He hit the floor, knees first, then his hands. The rocks hovering around his right hand dropped, clattering against the ground. The venom on his left hand faded, absorbed back into his skin.
He stayed like that for a while. Breathing. Staring at the puddles.
Then he sat back on his heels, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
"I can use this."
His voice was quiet.
"This power finally gives me the edge. Something no one else has."
He raised his hands. Electricity crackled between his fingers.
"I will use this to finally cleanse the world."
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, Weeks Later
Takeshi sat cross-legged on the living room floor with the element book open in his lap. Kaito was draped around his shoulders.
"Water." He held out his hand. Water materialized above his palm.
"Venom." The water dissolved, replaced by thick purple liquid.
"Earth." A small block of stone appeared.
He went through them one by one.
"Ice. Wind. Sun. Electricity."
Each element appeared as he named it, cycling through his hand.
"Most people can only use one or two." He stared at his palm. "I got seven."
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, City Outskirts
He stood on a hill overlooking the city, wind whipping his hair.
The skyline spread out before him, buildings clustered together, lights blinking in the evening haze. One structure rose above the rest. The main government building, a massive skyscraper in the center of everything, its top floor glowing with the light of a hundred windows.
Takeshi raised his hand. Ice formed in his palm, elongating into a sharp point.
"Let's see how much better my aim has gotten."
He focused on the top floor. On the largest window. On the silhouette standing behind it.
He threw.
The icicle cut through the air, crossing the distance in seconds. It punched through the glass without slowing down.
In the boardroom, the man was mid-sentence. "We must get back to the business at—"
The icicle went straight through his head.
His body slumped forward onto the conference table.
On the hill, Takeshi lowered his hand.
"Perfect."
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, Six Months Later
First the child predators and rapists.
Then the murderers.
Then the thieves.
In six months, Takeshi killed everyone he deemed harmful to society.
One remained.
The man was on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. "Please. I'll give you anything. Money. Power. Fame. Just ask and I'll give anything. I can even give you—"
Takeshi raised his hand. Electricity crackled between his fingers, building in intensity.
Then it fizzled out.
"Huh?" He tried again, and nothing came. "Why am I so…tired?"
Something was on his back. Right between his shoulder blades, heavy and warm, pressed flat against his skin. It felt like a giant roach had latched onto him and was sucking the energy right out of his body.
He reached behind him, but he couldn't get to it. Right in the center of his back where his hands couldn't reach no matter how he twisted his arms.
Behind him, a woman held a tube with both hands. Black suit, earpiece. The tube ran from a pad suctioned to the center of his back into a device on her hip, and a faint glow pulsed through it, traveling away from Takeshi. She wasn't looking at him. She was watching the device.
He could feel the drain getting worse. He focused on ice, trying to freeze whatever was flowing out of him, crystallize it inside the tube and clog the whole thing shut. The ice started forming, hardening, almost solid enough to block the flow.
It drained away before it could finish.
Takeshi collapsed. His legs just gave out under him and he dropped to the ground.
The man in front of him scuffled away across the pavement.
Voices closed in around him. More of them, all dressed the same as the woman. Someone grabbed his arm to pin him down, and Takeshi tried to burn them. He tried to focus enough heat into his hand to make them let go. A couple of sparks came out and died. The energy wouldn't concentrate long enough to form anything. He tried electricity, and nothing came out at all.
More hands on him now, pinning him against the pavement.
Then someone grabbed Kaito. A hand closed around the scarf and pulled.
Kaito's voice came right against Takeshi’s ear.
"Takeshi. Help. Please. They're hurting me."
Fire erupted from the scarf and swallowed the agent's hand. He screamed and let go, stumbling back, shaking his arm. The flames didn't go out. They would never go out. Immortal flames. That hand would burn for the rest of his life.
The fire traveled down Takeshi's back and into the pad. The device on the woman's hip cracked, then exploded in her hands. The tube melted. The technology couldn't handle it. They hadn't figured out how to siphon solar energy yet.
When Takeshi realized this, he stopped holding back.
He pushed himself up off the ground.
"Don't touch Kaito," Takeshi said, glaring at the woman with the siphon.
One of the agents rushed him. Takeshi held out his hand, and the man's body engulfed in flames. Normal fire though, the kind that could be put out. Once the others smothered it, nobody else stepped forward.
Takeshi turned around and started walking. The ground behind him split open, and rocks tore upward into a wall lined with spikes on the top. Tall enough that none of them could get past it. Short enough that they could still see him over the top.
The last target was still ahead of him, still on the ground, still trying to get away on all fours.
Takeshi didn't stop walking. He didn't look at the man. He just held his hand out to the side as he passed and shot an icicle through his head.
He kept walking. Kaito settled around his neck.
The Story of Kejiwara Takeshi, That Night
He went back to his house.
The same house where he'd discovered his powers at four years old. The same house where he'd killed his first person. The same house he'd always returned to, no matter how far he ran.
He stood in the doorway for a long moment, just looking at the room.
Then he took off the scarf and held it in his hands.
"Kaito."
"I know."
He went to the closet and pulled out an old box. Found a marker and wrote “STORAGE” on the side.
He opened the box and started placing things inside. The journal he'd been keeping. The crystal amalgamation he fused together. Everything he discovered about the cycles, the bearers, the truth.
"They're gonna take everything. Confiscate it all." He kept packing, his movements calm, deliberate. "But they won't care about a box labeled storage. They're too greedy. Too incompetent. All they care about is that I'm dead so they can keep stealing from the sun."
He kept talking out loud. Kaito listened silently.
"Some sun bearer down the line is gonna find this. They're gonna need what's in here."
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He paused, holding a book with blank pages.
"Please. Whoever you are. Learn from it."
He sealed the box and placed it on the floor next to the couch, on the side facing the door.
Then he sat down.
He could hear the sirens already. They'd found him. Of course they had. They always would have eventually.
He looked around the room. The afternoon light through the windows, same as when he was four. The floor where he'd knelt over his father's body.
"This was my home. Where I grew up. Where I killed my first person. Where I always came back to."
He looked at the scarf in his hands.
"Now it's really the end."
He wrapped the scarf around his own throat and started pulling both ends.
"Please—" Kaito's voice. "Stop— you're hurting me—"
"I'm sorry." Takeshi's voice came out strained. "I need to do this."
He pulled harder. His vision started to spot. "Just... please... whoever comes after me... continue this..."
He fell off the couch, hitting the floor. Still pulling. Still choking. His body writhed against the carpet.
Takeshi thought.
Takeshi thought
It was a bad plan. He knew that. But a small chance was better than no chance.
The door burst open.
Police. Flashlights. They saw him on the floor, choking himself with the scarf, writhing.
They looked at each other. The one in front turned away the second he saw Takeshi.
"What do we do?"
Takeshi kept pulling.
Flashback, Original World, ???
King Story kneels before a simple stone marker in the palace graveyard. Rain hits the stone and runs down the letters of his brother's name. Riku. Behind him, the memorial world project continues, workers building a perfect replica of what was lost.
Footsteps on gravel. Story doesn't turn.
"Why do you repeat the same transgression?" The voice is disappointed. "Two people you hold dear to you died the first time because of your hubris."
Story's hands clench. "Who—"
The figure steps in front of him. Era.
"You were the seal of perfection, Kuroro, until pride hollowed you out." Era circles the grave. "You want to fix the sun; not for the world, but for your own atonement. Thinking you could redeem yourself from your hubris, you set out on this worthless journey that you knew you could never complete."
"I don't know what you're—"
"Because to you, trying is more important than action. But you won't get any completion trophies, at least not in this life."
Story blinks. Era is gone. Only the grave remains, and the weight of words he doesn't understand yet.
But will. In another life, as another person, when the memory finally surfaces in an empty bathtub.
Niche’s Bathroom, Present
Niche's eyes snap open. The memory doesn't feel like his own.
"Maybe the reason Era put me through all of this, the reason he hasn't let me out yet, is because he's trying to teach me something." He sits up. "The same lesson, over and over, waiting for me to learn. But what lesson is that?"
Niche doesn't answer. He knows. He's always known. But admitting it means accepting that trying isn't enough, that all his efforts and all his suffering mean nothing if he can't actually succeed.
Huh? What am I saying? Who the hell is Era, and why am I talking to myself?
"Finally awake?" The voice came from somewhere in the room. From the sword, it sounded like.
"What the hell? Did that sword just—"
"We don't have time for this. You need to—"
"How are you ? Swords don't talk!"
"Down here."
Niche looks down. A cat sits on the bathroom mat, tail swishing.
"The cat is talking?"
"I'm both. It's complicated. Listen, you did something very stupid last night and—"
"Who you? What's happening?" Niche grabs his head. "Why can't I
anything?"
"Because you wiped your own memory, you fool. Now get up. We have work to do."
"Work? I don't even know who I am!"
"Your name is Niche. You're the sun bearer. And in a few hours, everyone dies unless you remember how to fix this."
"That's insane."
"Yes. Now get out of the tub."
Flashback, Day Six
Ryuga walks through the streets, searching for Niche. It's quiet for once. No shifters, no drama. Just him and the sound of his boots on pavement.
I need to find Niche, Ryuga thinks. I keep losing him. Need to focus on the mission of keeping him safe. His presence...I hear his footsteps up to the old district...
Then there's someone walking beside him.
Ryuga doesn't look over. He keeps walking.
The man is tall and well-dressed. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Hello, son," the man greets.
Something flickers in Ryuga's head. A face. A courtroom. A gun. Then it's gone.
"Neptune," Ryuga greets automatically. "Vestige Court. Biological father of previous consciousness."
Neptune's smile tightens. "That's one way to greet your old man."
"You're not my father."
"Your body disagrees." Neptune gestures vaguely at him. "Those are my genes. My eyes. Hell, you even stand like I used to."
Ryuga's hand shifts slightly. Not reaching for anything. Just ready.
Neptune notices. Laughs. "Easy. I'm not here to fight. Just wanted to talk. Father to son."
"We have nothing to discuss."
"No?" Neptune turns to face him. "I heard about what happened to you. The rewiring. The training. They really did a number on you, huh?"
"She gave me purpose."
"They gave you a ." Neptune's voice hardens. "You were supposed to be better than this. Stronger. Instead, you're their attack dog with a stupid design on your shirt."
The air gets heavier, a frequency humming faintly between them, barely audible. A second later, it’s gone.
Neptune raises his hands, grin returning. "Whoa, hey. Relax. I'm just saying I raised you better than this. Well, would have raised you better, if things had gone differently."
"You murdered your daughter."
Neptune's expression doesn't change, but something cold flashes in his eyes. "So you do remember. Good. Makes this easier."
"Makes what easier?"
"My apology." He sighs. "Look, I came here because I fucked up. With you. With Yui. With everything." He spreads his hands. "My new family? They're nothing. Pathetic. I hate looking at them."
Ryuga just watches him.
"I'm saying I miss what I had. My real family." Neptune steps closer. "You're still my blood, even if they scrambled your brain. So I'm here to make it right. Ask for forgiveness. Fresh start. What do you say?"
Silence.
Then Ryuga speaks, and his voice is different. Still flat, but there's something underneath it now.
"You're my father. Supposedly."
"That's what I've been—"
"Let me ask you something." A hum starts. Barely audible. "There's a murderer. He's caught. Sentenced to death. Execution by torture. Slow, painful. And as they prepare him, as they lead him to die..." Ryuga's eyes haven't blinked. "He cries. Begs. Says he's sorry."
Neptune's smile fades. He doesn’t speak.
"Does that man get absolved?" Ryuga asks.
The hum grows. The ground starts to vibrate.
"Do his tears erase what he did?" Ryuga’s pace slows as he turns to look into Neptune’s eyes.
These aren't my words, Ryuga thinks. These are thoughts from someone who asked this question a thousand times. Engraved so deep they just flow out.
Neptune tries to interject. "Son, listen—"
"No."
The air pressure drops. The hum becomes something felt in bones. Neptune can’t even form words anymore.
"He. Would. Not."
Neptune's eyes explode first.
Blood and fluid spray as he screams, hands flying to his face. His eardrums burst. Blood pours from both ears. Then his skin cracks, splitting and peeling.
His internal organs liquefy. Bones fragment. He collapses into a pile of meat and twitching limbs.
For three seconds, nothing moves.
Then one hand, still mostly intact, starts to grow. Flesh builds from the fingertips up. Bones reconstruct. Muscles weave. The hand reaches out, grasping, pulling, as the rest regenerates from it.
Thirty seconds later, Neptune stands again. Whole. Gasping. Already backing away.
"Wow, son." He lets out an awkward chuckle. "I see how you feel."
Ryuga's face fades back to normal. The hum stops. His expression returns to its usual blankness.
"I accept your apology, Father." His voice is calm. "But I don't accept it on behalf of Yui." He pauses. "Your punishment's still coming."
Neptune doesn't respond. He just keeps backing away slowly, the way prey does when they think the predator will pounce if they turn around. He backs up until the fog swallows him whole, a fog that seemed to come from nowhere.
Ryuga stands there for a moment, then keeps walking.
His chest feels heavier than usual, like another consciousness is fighting over his body. Fighting to finish off the job it started before the opportunity gets away.
Government Interrogation Room, Present
"How did you get this burn?" The interrogator points at Maruka's bandaged hand.
"I..." Maruka stares at the red marks visible through the gauze. "I was at the beach. Someone grabbed me. They were burning hot, like they had a fever."
"Who grabbed you?"
"I don't—" Her voice catches. Something wells up in her chest. "I don't know."
"You don't know who burned you?"
"No, I—" Tears start falling. She wipes them, confused.
Maruka thinks.
Interrogator exchanges glances with his partner. "Miss, are you protecting someone?"
"I'm not! I genuinely don't..." The tears come harder now. Her heart aches for someone she can’t remember. "I don't understand why I'm so sad."
Residential District Streets, Present
Niche sees Arius walking toward him from ahead. Something's off about the way he's moving.
"Hey, Raizen,” Niche whispers, watching Arius get closer, “that guy looks kind of... why does he look so mad? I don't wanna be in that dude's way when he—"
The knife catches Niche across the face before he can finish. Blood runs down his cheek for about a second before the skin pulls itself shut.
"Agh, what the fuck? What the fuck did you just do?" Niche steps back, hand going to his cheek. Nothing there. "You missed, dummy.”
"Oh, playing dumb. Playing dumb." Arius flails his arms, the knife still in his hand. "What the fuck did you do with my girl?"
"What? Your girl? Who?"
"Don't try to make me seem like I'm the dummy here."
"What are you talking about? Who's your girl? Do I know her?"
"Shima!"
"Shima? Did you introduce me to her?" Niche looks genuinely confused.
"Well—"
"Okay, let me get this straight. You're saying I did with your girl. How do you know?"
"I heard you guys having a conversation about a hookup."
"What? I would never even talk about that even if it happened. What exactly did you hear?"
"Something about a secret you guys had together." Arius rolls his eyes.
“Oh, you're upset about a little secret?” Niche's whole demeanor shifts. The tension drops out of his shoulders and he smiles, patting Arius on the head like he's a little kid. “Don't worry buddy. We all have secrets.”
Niche starts walking away.
"Hey! I still need to talk to you. We're gonna have a word later."
"Yeah, yeah buddy. Keep it moving. Talk to me when you can actually land a hit." Once they're far enough away, Niche turns to Raizen. "Who the hell was that?"
"I don't know. Probably some druggie or homeless guy."
"Do people just do that here? Attack you for no reason?"
"This place is definitely strange. Apparently, some people are so mentally unstable they can't even control their own form. I wouldn't worry about it…” Raizen is quiet for a moment. "Anyways, we need to focus. There's a book you should read."
"A book?"
"Check your pocket."
Niche reaches into his coat pocket. His fingers touch something. He pulls out a small book.
"This?"
"Yeah. That should help you remember. And you'll learn to control elements too. Start with this one: shadow manipulation. That's what you used to call me as a cat, right? Shadow?"
"I called a cat Shadow? That's kind of edgy."
"Focus. Read the book."
Niche opens it. The pages are blank.
"There's... nothing in here."
"Heat the pages."
"Heat?"
"Yeah. Just... pretend you're a heater. Go. Warm it up."
"Huh?"
Raizen sighs. "You know how to do it already. Just imagine it."
“Imagine I’m a heater?”
“Yes.”
Niche holds the book between his hands and visualizes heat building up. The pages warm under his palms, lines filling in like they'd always been there.
“Shadow manipulation,” Niche reads out loud. “Instructions: User outlines a circular shape in the air with their dominant hand. If compatible, placing their hand on the center of the circle and gripping the circle firmly will allow them to move it freely. User bends the edges of the circle with their nondominant hand to conform it to the size and shape of the user's shadow. The user then releases the circle, which will attach to the user's shadow and create a passage."
He traces a circle in the air with his finger. A faint outline appears. He places his hand in the center and grips. It holds. He bends the edges down toward his shadow, shaping it to match. Then he releases.
The circle drops onto his shadow. His shadow becomes a portal. Niche sticks his hand in, then pulls it back out. The portal flattens into a shadow again.
"How did I—"
Footsteps behind him. Niche turns around, scrambling to his feet.
Two shifters are dragging a girl between them. She's pulling against their grip, twisting her arms, trying to dig her feet into the ground, but they keep dragging her forward. Her wrists are bound. Another shifter walks in front of them, chin up, chest out.
The more she struggles, the brighter Niche's eyes burn. His body is already reacting to something his brain hasn't caught up to yet.
Oh come on.
"You there," the lead shifter calls out. "You have something we need."
Niche looks down, then back up. "Huh?"
"The sword for the girl."
Really? We're doing a hostage exchange thing right now?
The girl looks at him with hope, like she expects him to save her.
"I don't even know her," Niche says.
Something flashes in the girl's eyes. Hurt.
Why does she look hurt? Was there a script I was supposed to follow?
"Take me instead," Niche says calmly. "Let her go, and you can have my life."
The shifters freeze and exchange nervous glances.
Why did I just say that? That's such a cliche hero line. I don't even know this girl.
"We... we can't do that. We have orders. Bring the sword back."
"Orders from who?"
"From... from..." The shifters exchange glances, struggling. "We've always had orders."
"You don't even know?" Niche laughs. "Following orders from someone you can't remember? That's not suspicious at all."
These guys are NPCs. Actual NPCs.
They look uncomfortable but raise their weapons. None of them look like they actually want to use them.
"Fight or she dies," Raizen says from the sword.
"Fight? I don't know how to fight."
"Yes you do. I just taught you. Concentrate your heat."
"What are you talking about?”
“You’re a sun bearer. You’re literally a walking furnace. Just focus. Do what you did before."
Niche looks at the shifters. The shifters look at Niche. Nobody moves.
Then his body starts getting warm. Not gradually, all at once, like a fever hitting out of nowhere.
Why am I so hot?
The shifters charge. His body doesn’t move, but the heat keeps building.
It's like there's something inside trying to get out—
One shifter gets too close. Niche throws his hand up reflexively and flames explode from his palm. The shifter screams, stumbling back ablaze.
What the hell?
Another attacker. This one doesn’t even get close. Niche's body pivots, another burst of fire. It's messy, uncontrolled, but effective.
This heat... when I focus it outward, it becomes fire? Why does this feel so natural?
The last shifter tries to run. Niche's hand extends almost automatically, flames chasing them down.
They die quickly. Niche stares at his hands, still glowing with residual heat.
The girl stumbles free and runs to him. Before he can react, she's too close, hands on his face, pulling him in.
She kisses him.
Niche's brain goes blank.
"I know it's you, Niche,” Maruka whispers against his mouth. “Even if you look like you've aged years, like you've been tortured for lifetimes, like you've killed millions of people and you're still carrying every single one of them." She pulls back just enough to look at him, his eyes hopeless, desperate, and completely given up. "Your eyes blind me every time I try to look at them, but I don't need to see your face to know who you are. You're the same boy I held in my arms the whole night while he cried on my shoulder. You probably don't remember that, and I don't either, but I know it happened. And I know it was you, this boy standing in front of me who doesn't even recognize me."
Raizen is unnervingly quiet.
Niche pulls back, confused. "I don't—"
"I know." She lets go of his face, tears in her eyes. "Just... promise you'll come back to me. When you remember."
I have no idea what she's talking about.
"I don't understand—"
"Promise."
He looks at her. She's crying. She clearly knows him. And something in his chest aches even though he doesn't know why.
"I... I promise."
She touches his face once more, then turns and runs. He watches her go.
Why does my chest hurt? I don't even know her… do I?
"We need to keep moving," Raizen says. "Read more of the book. You need to remember before noon."
Niche walks away, still tasting the kiss. Voices ahead snap him back.
"Check the alley. The sun bearer was spotted—"
His hands light up before he can think about it, flames already there, ready to blitz them when they come into sight. He's about to when he sees himself in a window.
Is this me? Just killing everyone in my way?
He looks at his hands. The flames are still going.
If this is who I am, I don't want it to be.
The footsteps are getting closer. He looks down at his shadow on the ground. His left hand grabs at the air while his right pulls. The shadow opens up beneath him.
Fuck it.
He drops straight down, sinking into the blackness.
Sutori Residence, Present
Mrs. Sutori unlocks the front door, rolling her suitcase behind her. Six months felt longer than she expected, but it was worth it. She steps inside.
"Niche? I'm back!" Mrs. Sutori calls out, grinning.
Nothing.
The house is quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Nobody's-been-here quiet.
She pulls out her phone and opens her messages to her husband.
The last one reads, “Hey, just landed. Heading home now. Is Niche there?”
Delivered. One hour ago.
She scrolls up.
“Delays, won't be back until Sunday.”
Delivered.
“How's Niche doing? He hasn't been responding to my texts lately.”
Delivered.
“Call me when you get a chance.”
Read.
“I’m sorry honey, I gotta stay longer. There’s this competition they just told us about. Really high paying, but a pretty competitive position for a surgeon. If I qualify, I’ll be out for a few months. Take care of Niche until I get back, please. This is really important. Love you!”
Read.
She stares at the screen for a moment, then closes the app.
He's always bad at checking his phone, Mrs. Sutori thinks. I'll just call him tonight.
She moves to text Niche, pulling up his contact, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
Then she stops.
She puts the phone face-down on the counter, smiling to herself.
No. I'll surprise him, Mrs. Sutori thinks. He'll walk through that door, and I'll just be sitting here. It'll be nice.
She starts unpacking.
