CHAPTER 37 — THE MISSING CURE
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Kyoichiiro sat leaning against the cold stone wall, his eyes empty, staring ahead. His hands were still trembling—a trembling he couldn't control, spreading from his fingertips throughout his body. He didn't know how long he had sat there. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe more. Time felt different when your mind was trapped in an endless cycle of death.
Kyoichiiro: (Whispering, his voice hoarse, barely audible) "How many more times will this repeat...?"
He turned toward Amura and Aetheria, still sitting beside him. They looked at him with worried expressions—Amura with narrowed eyes, Aetheria with glistening eyes. They didn't understand what was happening to him. They couldn't understand. How could they understand something he himself couldn't comprehend?
Amura: (His voice soft, careful) "What's wrong, Kyoichiiro? Has something happened? You look like... like you're seeing something we can't see."
Kyoichiiro didn't answer. He just stared at Amura, his light blue eyes—usually sharp, usually calculating—now empty, hollow, as if something had died within them.
What should I do? he thought, and his mind spun like a wheel that couldn't stop. I've already tried stopping the girl. I've already tried covering her mouth. I've tried everything I could think of. But I still died. I still came back here. What should I do?
He remembered the doll. The old cloth doll, with a smile too wide, with bleeding eyes. The doll that appeared in that room, that waved at him as they left, that might be the cause of all this.
Maybe the doll is the cause, he thought, and for a moment, he felt something strange in his chest—not fear, not anger, but hope. A small hope, but real. If I can find that doll, maybe I can stop this. Maybe I can save that girl. Maybe I can escape this cycle.
But then, he remembered the girl. The little girl with tangled long hair, with torn clothes, with a face full of fear. The girl who died in front of him four times. The girl who might still be trapped somewhere, waiting for someone to save her.
But what about that girl's fate if I look for the doll? he thought, and his mind began to grow chaotic. If I leave her, will she keep dying? Will she keep being trapped in this cycle? Or will she—
He couldn't finish his thought. Too many questions. Too many possibilities. Too many things he couldn't answer.
Kyoichiiro: (Lifting his head, looking at Amura with eyes beginning to focus) "We need to find that doll."
Amura: (Startled) "The doll? The one in that room? The one with bleeding eyes?"
Kyoichiiro: (Nodding) "Yes. We need to find it. No matter what."
Amura: (Still confused, but beginning to stand) "Why? We already left that place, didn't we? We already left that room. Why would we go back there?"
Kyoichiiro: (Standing, his voice firm) "We don't have time. Hurry."
Amura: (Exhaling—a long breath, a breath that felt like releasing a burden he didn't ask for) "Alright. If there's something I can help with, just say it. I'm here."
Aetheria: (Also standing, her face still anxious) "Me too... I'll help too."
Kyoichiiro nodded. He reached out his hands—his left hand toward Amura, his right hand toward Aetheria. They grasped his hands, and for a moment, he felt warmth in his palms—warmth that reminded him he was still alive, that he was still here, that he could still try.
Kyoichiiro: (To himself) Let's go. This time, it has to work.
They began to run—back through the corridors they had passed, back to the three-way intersection, back to the room where the doll had been. Aetheria activated her wind magic, giving an extra speed boost to their feet, making their steps lighter and faster.
Amura: (While running, his voice breathless) "Kyoichiiro, what makes you so sure the doll is the key?"
Kyoichiiro: (Not turning) "I'm not sure. But I don't have any other choice."
They turned left, passing through corridors growing darker, colder, damper. And at the end of the corridor, the door was still there—the old wooden door with rusted iron hinges, slightly open, as if waiting for them.
Kyoichiiro: (Stopping before the door, his eyes narrowing) "Here it is."
He pushed the door—the door that opened with a long creak, a sound they had come to recognize, a sound they had heard many times. The room inside was still the same—rotting wooden tables, rusted iron shelves full of glass bottles, a wooden chair with ropes hanging from it, and sharp tools hanging on the walls.
But the doll was gone.
Kyoichiiro: (His eyes moving quickly, searching every shelf, every corner) "Where's the doll?!"
Amura: (Also searching, opening glass bottles, checking under tables) "I don't see it!"
Aetheria: (Also searching, her trembling hands touching dusty shelves) "I don't see it either!"
Kyoichiiro kept searching—opening cabinets, checking behind shelves, even looking at the ceiling. Nothing. The doll was gone. Vanished. As if it had never been there.
Kyoichiiro: (Standing in the middle of the room, his breath ragged, his eyes empty) "How...?"
He looked around the room, his eyes moving from one place to another, searching for anything that could tell him where the doll had gone.
How could this happen? he thought, and his mind began to spin again. When I was looking for the doll, it disappeared. But when I wasn't looking for it, it suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Is this some kind of game? Is this some kind of test?
He bit his lip—hard, until it hurt, until blood flowed on his tongue. The pain was real. The pain couldn't be faked.
Amura: (Approaching, his voice soft) "Kyoichiiro... the doll might have moved. It might be somewhere else."
Kyoichiiro: (Not answering. He just stood there, with empty eyes, with a spinning mind)
What should I do? he thought. What should I do now?
He turned toward Amura and Aetheria—Amura still looking at him with concern, Aetheria still trembling. They were waiting for him. Waiting for his decision. Waiting to know what to do next.
Kyoichiiro didn't know. For the first time in a long time, he didn't know.