Yuki didn't sleep.
She just lay there, eyes wide open, waiting for the sun to come up.
Everything was quiet now. Too quiet.
She blinked once, twice, then sat up. The bed felt cold. The floor was colder.
Miss Nishimura had called the police last night. The paramedics came with their stretcher. They didn't say much. Just nodded at Yuki and went to take her parents out of the house.
Her parents didn't speak. But they were breathing.
That was supposed to mean they were alive, at least that's what she thought.
The paramedics briefly spoke to Yuki about her parents condition and how she should keep her hopes up.
I can't believe this, I'm being told my parents are in a coma and they don't even know when they will wake up from it, she thought while covering her face.
Now Yuki was alone.
The house smelled awful.
It was still there. That same thick, sour smell she'd been pretending wasn't real.
The trash bags near the hallway were ripped open. One had leaked something dark.
She walked past it without making any reaction.
She stood outside her parents' bedroom, as she contemplated with herself.
"No, I shouldn't go in," Yuki said.
However, after a few minutes circling the area, she ended up going in anyways.
The bed was bare now. Just a plain mattress with a dip in the middle where her parents used to lay.
Two dolls were sitting on the nightstand. One in a grey suit and one in a blue dress.
Her fingers hovered before she picked them up.
"What do I do with you two?" Yuki whispered.
She then made her way to the kitchen.
Two teacups were still on the table from last night.
She saw the male doll with the grey hair on the chair with a newspaper in front of his face.
Another one of the dolls was also near the sink, next to a dead plant. She picked both of the dolls up and made her way to the living room.
Yuki walked straight to the window.
Two dolls were there, sitting together near the window. They looked like they were watching the outside world. Like they were waiting for someone.
Her hand shook as she reached out.
Yuki gathered the last two dolls and walked back to the living room couch.
She placed all six dolls in a row.
Then she sat on the floor in front of them, legs crossed.
Yuki just stared at them.
She sat there for a long time.
Legs crossed, back hunched, arms resting in her lap. Eyes stuck on the dolls.
However, the dolls didn't move.
But something felt wrong.
And then suddenly, one of them tilted their head.
Just a little. A soft tilt, like it had nodded at her.
Yuki froze in place. She could not believe her eyes.
Did the doll just move? Yuki thought.
Her chest tightened. She rubbed her eyes and stared again. It hadn't changed.
Same spot. Same pose. Like it had never moved at all.
I must be imagining things, she thought.
She reached out to grab the doll but right before her finger touched it, her phone buzzed. The sound made her flinch. She quickly pulled her hand back.
The phone kept buzzing.
Buzz.Buzz.Buzz.
She got up and picked up the phone. It was Miss Nishimura.
"...Hello?"
"Oh, thank God," Miss Nishimura breathed on the other end. "I was really worried."
Yuki didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything.
"I know last night was... I mean, it was a lot," Miss Nishimura said.
Yuki stayed quiet.
"I called someone for you. A therapist. Someone I saw when I was younger," Miss Nishimura said.
Yuki looked confused.
A therapist. Of course. That makes sense. If anything could help me at this moment, it's therapy, right? Yuki thought sarcastically.
Still, her mouth didn't work. She couldn't even think of anything to say back.
"He really did help. However, he's not... normal."
Yuki raised an eyebrow.
"Not normal how...?"
There was a little pause on the other end, like Miss Nishimura was choosing her words.
"He opens his therapy clinic at five in the morning," she said. "And closes at seven-thirty. That's it. No afternoons. No weekends. Nothing."
"...That's weird," Yuki muttered.
"Yeah. And he wears all black, every single time I've seen him. Looks like he belongs in a horror movie."
Yuki looked back at the dolls. They still hadn't moved.
"He has this receptionist too. Doesn't talk at all. I don't know if she can't, or just doesn't want to."
Yuki almost smiled, but it didn't quite reach her mouth.
Miss Nishimura's voice got a little softer.
"But if you can get past all that... he helped me through something when I was a mess. He told me things no one else did. Saw through me like glass. It was scary at first, but... it worked."
Yuki leaned against the wall and looked at the clock. It was 4:50 a.m.
Uhm... I guess I can see him and still make it to school on time, she thought.
However, she didn't feel like talking or moving.
But something about the way Miss Nishimura said it—like she really meant it—like she really believed it could help—got stuck in Yuki's head.
"You don't have to go if you're not ready... but I'll send you his contact for whenever you are. He's the kind of person who knows how to listen," Miss Nishimura said.
"...What's his name?" Yuki asked.
"Sasaki," Miss Nishimura said. "Sasaki Shin."