Keiichi goes over his feelings for Mion before awaking to a sharp feeling in his right arm. A stand alone story focusing on the climax of Mion and Keiichi's relationship.
Well, after finishing Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni, I decided I wanted to do a dark fic based on pure torture. It's been a while for me and I hope things turn out alright. I really love these types of disjointed thought pieces where the character makes observations of their surroundings. It leads to very interesting results. I'm also writing this for the severe lack of good torture fics out there and for the evil killer bunny in all of us. I know you love this sort of thing…you just don't want to admit it. And my final reason…because Keiichi's death at Shion/Mion's hand (depends on the arc) was highly disappointing in my opinion, or maybe I'm just sick.
Points of interest:
I have not had a chance to watch the entirety of Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni KAI, so anything from that season will not be included here. Just consider this an alternative to Keiichi's torture scene at the hands of Shion/Mion and also, the things he should have said to her as well as what he could have possibly been thinking at the time.
P.S. If you're expecting a happy ending, go read another fiction.
P.P.S. I got the idea for this torture for the Japanese Cult Horror flick "The Appointment".
Disclaimer: This document is intended for public viewing and is solely for personal enjoyment. It should neither be considered an authoritative source nor an official publication of the creators and their affiliates.
Yay! I took up half a page with technical crap! How awesome am I? dances
I always liked Mion. She had a laugh that seemed to fill a room and her boyishness was endearing. I made a lot of mistakes treating her the way I had, pushing her into the realm of 'just a friend', turning down all her advances by pretending I didn't know they were there. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her like that, it was just…something didn't feel right about it. I kept thinking that if I responded to her how she wanted, if I gave in and admitted to her that I thought she was pretty and that I didn't mind her brusque way of treating me, that I didn't mind that she couldn't cook quite like Rena or how her cheating wasn't really that irritating; if I told her all of that, then things might turn for the worse.
I can't quite surmise why I thought that way. Logically, it would seem that I had been scared by the threat of Oyashiro-sama's curse, or the rumor that the Shinozaki family were former Yakuza. But, to be honest, none of this bothered me. It wasn't a reason I could easily pin down, nor
something that could be scratched onto paper as though it were a recipe. No, it was something deeper, harder to describe, like trying to define a word that had no real meaning, but you knew it was there, and you knew what it represented. There was just something that kept me from telling her what she wanted to hear.
It wasn't until that night, the night Shion and I broke into the storage room and saw all the devices the former residents of our village used during the Watanagashi festival, that I began to question Mion. As the days passed it almost seemed like she was disjointed, accusing me one moment and acting as though nothing happened the next. And Shion…she was so scared, crying on the phone, begging me to help her. I've never been so scared and angry in my life.
I suppose I should start from the beginning in case this confuses the police when they find my body somewhere. No, that's too morbid. I will survive as best I can. Mion and Shion, it's hard to tell them apart sometimes. They're perfectly identical twins but with starkly different personalities. If they wanted to, they could switch places and no one would know…
This is to the police, if I am ever found dead. Shion and I ended up in the festival storage room, more out of curiosity than anything, and I guess things have really gone down hill since then. It seems like Mion has been hounding after me with questions, and people keep disappearing…
Oyashiro-sama's curse…two people have already died. That means two have to disappear. Does that mean that Shion and I...? Are we going to die because we broke the rules? It wasn't that big of a deal! I didn't even want to go in, I was just a little curious! That's not something that deserves death, right? Shion doesn't deserve to die either! Mion, why is she acting this way? I don't understand…
Where is Shion?
Where is Mion?
Why do I feel like someone is standing over me when I sleep?
Mion, I always wanted to tell you…that I…
…there's a sharp pain in my left arm that I'm only vaguely aware of. The throbbing in my head feels worse than anything, even the new sensation of stinging that makes me cringe. I open my
eyes with difficulty – there's something sticky over my right eye making the action somewhat painful.
What is on my eye? Is it blood? I vaguely remember…did I get hit with something? Shion…no – Mion? She seemed so angry with me. Humming, I hear humming. I finally manage to open my eyes – there she is, fiddling with something, her back turned to me.
I call to her, my own voice cracking in fear, or was it uncertainty? She stops for a few seconds, chooses to ignore me and resumes her work. I hear the clink of metal on metal, sharp metal, but the thought doesn't quite sit in my brain long enough for that to seem bad.
My feet feel funny – so do my hands. They won't move.
Why can't I move?!
Oh God! Mion, why can't I move!?
She laughs. I hate that laugh – it scares me. My eyes grow wide, filled with questions, assertations; these are silenced when they rest on something small and thin protruding from my left forearm.
A needle. Thin. Sharp. Jagged. And it's sticking out of my arm.
M-Mion…Why? What did I do that made you so angry? Can I fix it?
I smile desperately, on the verge of begging like a whimpering child. She pulls out two more needles, and I see the barbs more closely this time. There seem to be thousands of them, sharp, upturned, like hooks designed to catch and tear the flesh they are stuck into. My heart's pounding so hard, I think it might burst from my chest.
I hear her ask me something. Do you know why you're here?
What? How would I know that? Why am I here, Mion? Is it about the storage incident? I didn't want to! I didn't know it was such a bad thing to do that! I'm sorry, please, just let me go!
Shion. My mind races. Shion is in the cell, right? She was so scared when I saw her last. Mion, please, let her go. She did nothing wrong.
Mion…she has a cold grin on her face. She tells me that Shion will die, no matter how much I beg. How did this happen?
She takes a needle staring at it, like it were her own child, before plunging it into my left palm.
The chambers fill with foreign noise, a noise I don't recognize until I realize that the hoarse feeling in my throat must mean it was mine. It was my scream, so full of pain that I didn't even recognize it. My back is arched as much as it can be. Mion…God…please…stop…
She twists it, giggling. I can hear the tendons that connect my fingers snapping apart violently, like rubber bands unceremoniously cut from a rolled up newspaper. Warm liquid spills over my hand dripping onto the wooden cross-plank I've been shackled to.
My arm twitches like something has possessed it. My hand curls in pain as the bones grind against each other, spinning unrestrained around the needle.
Mion leans over, wiping the blood and spit from the corner of my mouth, before kissing it gently. I hear her whisper my name. Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun…
She grabs another needle, shifting her weight so she can reach my right forearm. Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun, Keiichi-kun!
The needle stabs mercilessly into the sensitive flesh, ripping the muscle, tearing it like paper. She twists it again, this time mixing sobs with her laughter. I don't scream – I can't – there's nothing left. I can only. Shake. Twitch. Convulse. Spasm. My breathing is raspy as the blood pools in my mouth. I sputter, spitting some of it up. There might be vomit mixed with it – I can't tell anymore. She grips the instrument and plunges it, over and over and over and over into the open wound, cutting, slicing, ripping until there's nothing but a gaping, bleeding hole with pieces of flesh spilling out the top.
Mion? It's weak, barely audible, but I manage to whisper her name. She hears me, turning her head slowly. M-Mion…I have her full attention. Here eyes are wide, curiosity etched across her face as she leans in to hear me better.
She looks at me for a few seconds as though weighing my request. She looks at the needle, playing with the barbs.
My mouth fills with blood as she jams it into my cheek, pushing it across my mouth and through the other side. I can no longer speak, and must now endure the rest of what Mion has planned for me. I can barely keep from choking on my own blood and saliva, spilling tears every time I try to spit it out so I can breathe. The upturned spikes dig into the soft flesh, renewing the pain each time I move.
Before, my thoughts had been on escape, but now I could only think of death. I just wanted to die – please let me die – please let me die!
I vaguely hear Mion shuffle through her box where she had drawn the needles from. She stops after a few moments, seeming to have found what she was looking for. I feel a wooden handle slide under my left leg, then a wire, rough and textured. I can't lift my head – I can't see what she is doing – I can't guess until she grabs the handles and rubs quickly…
…back and forth; back and forth; back and forth; back and forth; back and forth…
The wire cuts through the flesh, slicing cleanly until it hits the bone. Then I feel a deep pressure throughout my entire body as the scraping sound fills the room. She saws faster, faster, faster, faster, faster until I smell something foul, like burning fingernails or hair. The feeling spreads throughout my entire body, shooting up my leg and reverberating through every muscle and bone.
Finally, I hear a strange plink sound, followed by her laughter. I strain as much as I can to see why. She is holding the wire over her head, blood dripping from it.
She is panting heavily, glancing wildly around her. She stands up, a smile plastered on her face, before wrenching the needles in my hand, arm and mouth free. Time for Keiichi-kun to go for a walk – her voice is dripping with insanity. I can feel the metal pinning me to the wood coming undone. Mion stares at me when she is finished before kicking me to the ground.
If you want to see Mion, then do it now. Say goodbye.
I can hardly move; the blood is streaming down my body, thick and musty. I'm covered in it. She seems to grow tired of waiting because I feel her grab at my left ankle, which I now realize is no longer there. There is only a stump – she grips it, and drags me into the cell area where I first saw Shion locked away. When we get there she drops me, just in time for poor Shion to scream in horror.
What did you do!? She's crying – I can't see her, but her voice is broken, waving in and out.
The reply is definite, final, undeterred.
I gave him what he deserved. For meddling – for reminding me…of…Satoshi-kun. She clenches her fists, real tears now streaming down her face. That's why, that's why this is happening, Keiichi-kun. If you had just given her the doll…if you had just told Mion, how you felt, I wouldn't be here. My demon wouldn't awaken.
She pauses, stifling the tears. I get up, reaching desperately, blindly for her pure, white kimono. M-Mion…
A hard slap – she pushes me to the ground. Idiot!
My mind is hazy, full of questions, pleas, desperation. I can't think – God – someone, tell me what to do.
Mion, I shouldn't have refused you. I…really like you. I really do. I miss you as our club president. I miss the penalty games. I miss your laughter. I always wanted to hold your hand, walk down the road to my house with you. I was too stupid, too naïve to realize the weight of my actions.
I'm staring into Shion's cell. Her eyes fill to the brim with tears as her body is racked with sobs she desperately tries to hold back. Her thin arm reaches through the bars stretching as far as it possibly can, until even her shoulder is sticking through. I feel her hand resting on mine.
I forgive you, Keiichi-kun.
Ending Note: Sorry if it's confusing. I wanted it to be something that had to be read different ways. One way, is to get the gist of what's going on, and the other is to try and decipher the meaning behind the events. Keiichi's thoughts become more sporadic as time goes by, mostly due to panic, pain and eventual death. How he actually dies, yes he's dead, is up to you, the reader.
One nice thing about these types of stories is that you really get to play with grammar. You get to break it over your knee like cheap balsa wood! I really don't do first person stories, unless they're like this one, because of the whole thought process of human beings.
Anyway, yea it was graphic, yea it was confusing, but I hope it was good. This is how I would have ended the Shion/Mion arc, but that's just cuz' I'm a sick romantic. If you have questions, leave a review!
Final notes: I didn't use quotations, because I wanted you, the reader, to decide what is being said out loud, internally, and by whom. Of course, there are clues to help with this. If you're still confused about who said what, then just ask me, and I'll be happy to answer.
P.S. First part is a letter to the police, second part is rambling thoughts.
Bye-bye for now!