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Miyo Takano had an ironclad will.
That was what she told herself, and that was what she had thought, all the way back, ever since this all began. She said it over and over again in her mind. Takano Miyo has an ironclad will. By the power of that will, her dreams will be made real. By her own hand… Something wished for by somebody with such fervor is something certain. Something that cannot be changed, prevented, or knocked off course. So she thought and so she said, over and over again, but it wasn’t that simple at all.
Of course it couldn’t be as simple… As ‘I desire it, and I will make it so’. If it were that simple, then her grandfather surely would have already been remembered. He desired, and had the will to make it so, yet he could not. His ironclad will was shot through once, twice, so many times, long after he was dead. But Miyo took up the mantle and she placed her own behind it and it had, despite every obstacle, held sturdy up to now. So why was it, exactly…
This, now, all of this, she hesitated, why did she hesitate? To what end did her iron will bend? To what purpose were these feelings, this perception, this everything, this Hell that her heart felt as if it were traipsing through with every single thought that passed her soul. Jiro Tomitake. Jiro, he was a lynchpin in her plan. An outsider who was a feature, each and every year. Who walked through the cotton-drifting festival with her and who she supposedly trusted. Who was a reasonable assumption…
To join her in breaking the rules of the ritual tool shrine, and from there, to be eradicated with Oyashiro-sama’s curse. She had other options- not other options of how to carry out her plan, but who to enact it against. She was of course, the one who was spirited away. This was how she always intended to fulfill that part of the ‘curse’, but the one who died along with her… Some part of her wished it didn’t need to be Jiro, but he was the most plausible, the one whose death would solidify this idea which was years in the making. If Kyosuke were to be killed by the curse, it should have been in an earlier year. The idea that he would be punished for flouting science against the curse…
Would have come about at the time when she had instead decided that the Furudes should be killed. It would have been them, or Kyosuke at that time. And for that matter, if she were to inject Kyosuke… He had the capacity to recognize the symptoms and seek a solution for himself, to save his own life, she couldn’t really have that. So it was that the pounding in heart would need to be silenced. She reached for the cabinet, tearing it open.
The benefit of the clinic… Well, no, that wasn’t fair. The clinic had many, many benefits, that was why she was so torn to bits by the idea that… The fact that it was going to be shut down. The act which set this plan truly into motion. But what was the benefit of her standing here, right here and right now? She snatched one of the bottles and peered at the label- yes, yes, this would do just fine. She glanced at the dosage, then doubled it, then another quarter for good measure. She was aware of medicine enough to know this wouldn’t kill her. It was unhealthy in the long term, but unnecessary, really, to think hard about. She only needed to silence this pounding once, for one night, for one unsavory act.
She grabbed a glass of water and downed the handful. The only thing which could quiet her heart and silence her mind and reinforce her iron will such that Jiro, the man she had laid with so many times, who she loved, who loved her, who she knew would still care for her even if he knew what she was about to do to him… But who would not agree if he knew, and she was ready. She had the ampule and the syringe. She ought to prepare it ahead of time. Methodically, step by step…
She unwrapped the 3 ml syringe.
She unwrapped the 18 gauge needle.
She unwrapped the 23 gauge needle.
She connected the 18 gauge needle to the 3 ml syringe.
She removed the cap from the 18 gauge needle.
She drew up the medication, and did not bother to tap out the air bubbles.
An embolism? This was killing him anyway, much more quickly. So that didn’t matter.
She capped the needle.
She discarded the needle.
She connected the 23 gauge needle to the 3 ml syringe.
She placed the loaded syringe, capped, into her pocket.
She would only need to uncap the syringe and drive it into Jiro’s skin, depress the plunger. It would be over. He would be inflicted with Hinamizawa Syndrome, and he would claw at his own throat until he died. She would need to run away. She would need to get away from there quickly, because he might become violent towards her once he was inflicted. Run away, Takano Miyo.
Run.
Away.
Tanashi Miyoko.
Never stop running.