When Riaru wakes up in an abandoned apartment building a week later, it's with blood stained teeth and the overpowering taste of iron on her tongue. She wants so badly to be able to say it tastes disgusting, but it's the first thing in a long while that she doesn't want to throw up. She starts to wonder how it had gotten there, wondered if it was her own, wondered if—

"Rairu," Yū's voice drags her from her train of thought. The girl can tell the split is worried, can hear the undertone of desperation, "You've got to say with me. You've got to help keep him out."

Ah…

Back in their mind, the doorway that once stood to lock out their third split lays in crumbles. Riaru doesn't say anything for a moment, merely stares at the broken remains of the archway. "I saw it," the words are quiet, and Yū doesn't respond. "The reflection of myself. Of our eyes— my eyes, I saw that our gaze was that of a ghouls, and—" she chokes around the lump in her throat, struggling to continue for a moment. "I ran," the two words come out strangled. "I-I ran! Smashed through the barrier we created! Destroyed it! I…" Her voice drops to a whisper, "I didn't care who took over as long as it wasn't me." She brings her hands up to wrap around their arms in a comforting position, but the movement is awkward and she wonders just how long she's been gone.

Yū doesn't know what to say in response, and stays eerily quiet inside their head for a long moment. The split doesn't know how to comfort her in a situation like this. Riaru doesn't know what her body has done, doesn't know to the full extent what Nanashi has done with it.

Yū had seen the news reports, had looked up the video footage online, and yet, even she didn't know what all the split had done.

So she doesn't try to comfort the girl, doesn't try to pass off the taste of blood as something else, doesn't try to lie. "We need to repair the wall Riaru, that's our top priority. Everything else can come later."

She's right, Riaru knows this, so she hardens her resolve, buries any other questions or thoughts, and the two of them get to work.

Once they've repaired the wall as much as it could be, they rifle through the backpack that they'd been using as a pillow when she'd woken up.

It worries her that she doesn't recognize the bag.

There's a bunch of small, random things in the bag, a water bottle, a wallet... two wallets actually, there are a few pieces of jewelry that she doesn't remember owning, beneath it all there's another t-shirt. When she goes to pull it out she can feel something that's been wrapped inside it.

Yū goes deathly still in their head when she pulls the mask out, and— it's only an implication— only an idea— but the thought that crosses Riaru's mind makes her nauseous. She throws it back in the bag, scrambling towards the nearest corner before she throws up everything in her stomach until there's nothing but acid that comes out.

Yū refuses to say anything.

Riaru wipes at their mouth with the back of her hand, and washes their mouth out with the remaining water in the bottle they'd found before throwing it back into the bag trying not to think about what any of the things inside it means.

When they finally get outside it's a lot warmer than Riaru remembers, enough to only warrant a t-shirt to be comfortable. It takes a trashed newspaper to tell them that it's been six months. It's two months shy of the split's previous record and Riaru likes to think it's because she's gotten stronger.

Yū thinks about how much more damage the split was able to do despite that strength.

It starts raining on Kohaku on his way to his mother's house, he was surprised by just how much the weather reflected the thoughts inside his head. It'd only been a week since he'd last seen his mother, but she'd called him earlier about deciding on a PI to help track down Riaru and had wanted to meet with him before making any final decisions.

By the time he reaches the front door it's pouring and he has his briefcase held over his head, and the collar of his trench coach popped up. His mother is quick to open the door when the twenty-three year old knocks, ushering him inside as she goes to get a few towels to help him dry off. He's in the process of shrugging off his coat when there's another knock at the door, it's quiet, and he almost thinks he's imagining things until he hears it again, still just as quiet.

He finishes taking off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack before he makes his way back towards the door.

The knock sounds again.

He pulls open the door with a "how can I help you" that dies on his lips.

There's a girl there, her hair wet and tangled, her clothes soaked through and clinging to her skin. It takes only one heart stopping moment for him to recognize them.

"Riaru." It's a breathy statement, like the release of a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Her bangs are overgrown and just long enough to be tucked behind her ears. There's this far away look in the girl's eyes and he has to wonder if she even recognizes him. But then her arms are wrapping around his waist, holding him tight. He can feel the cold bite of rain water seeping through his clothes where she's hugging him, and he doesn't know what to do for a moment.

He thinks of asking her where she's been, why she left, what she's been doing for the last six months. But, he saves those questions for later, instead opting to hug the girl back. The corner of his eyes burn and he wants to think that it's not because he's crying, wants to pass off the tears as old rain water.

He can hear her heaving and choking on broken sobs that wrack through her. He can feel her shaking against his chest and he wraps his arms around her tighter, holds her closer. The sound of rain filters through the open door, barely loud enough to be heard over the girl's cries.

Mrs. Genji drops the towels on the floor when she returns, a cocktail of emotions boiling through her like the aftermath of a chemical explosion had taken place inside her head. She wanted to scream, to cry, to— to— She didn't know what she wanted to do, so she just stood there. Staring at her children hugging each other. She could hear Riaru (because that's who it was wasn't it?) sobbing. It was loud, louder than she's heard before, her chest was heaving, body convulsing with the force of it.

But still, the woman did not move, scared that if she did the illusion would shatter and her daughter would disappear again. Because this was all just an illusion wasn't it? She'd simply fallen asleep while waiting for Kohaku, hadn't she?

But then the nineteen-year-old was running towards her, stumbling slightly on the towels in the floor and crashing into her. Mei's arms go out automatically to catch her, and when the illusion doesn't shatter she holds her tighter, face pressing into the girl's wet hair with her own choked cry.

Riaru's sobs get louder, if at all possible, as she returned the embrace.

It takes a while, but after their reunion Mei remembers to call the detective and tell him of the girl's returns.

"Has she said where she was?"

Mrs. Genji chews her bottom lip as she glances over her shoulder to where Riaru sits on the couch. She's in a pair of dry clothes now, laying against her son's side, her still damp hair leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

"I haven't brought it up with her. She just got back and I didn't want to pressure her into anything. She… She seems okay, certainly happy to be home," she lowers her voice incase Riaru can hear her, "I don't want to bring up anything that could change that, not for now at least."

She hears a sigh come through the line. "I'll leave it to you then Mrs. Genji. Call back if there are any important updates you think I should know."

Mei hangs up with a, "Thank you detective" and sets her phone down on the counter before walking towards the back of the couch. "Is she still awake?"

"I don't think so," comes Kohaku's reply. Riaru's head has fallen to the side, resting on the boy's shoulder. Mei comes around the other side of the couch, sitting down on the girl's other side.

"It seems she's gained some weight back."

Kohaku hums in agreement, leaning his head against the back of the couch.

"I hate that her leaving like that is what it took for her to get it back though."

Riaru can feel it when her mother starts running a hand over the top of her head in a soothing manner.

I'm home.

She's home.

We're home, Yū thinks, But, at what cost?

Riaru dreams of demons that night.