For what felt like hours, Jiro lay in the dark dreading Misha’s return. With each passing second, he knew the saliva trail he left would dry further. It was only a matter of time until it disappeared altogether.

He tried not to think about Misha. She was no longer who she once was. Desire and regret had warped her into a monstrous caricature of the sweet girl he once loved. It pained him to think about it. She was deluded. There would be no restart. Only suffering and torture. Misha was living in a nightmare. And she wanted to make Jiro a part of it.

His only hope was that Kaori or one of the kaiju would find their way to the bathhouse and discover his saliva trail. But how? Kaori and Sumire were stuck at the shrine without transportation. Sheena and Tae were likely still in Koko Town, with no clue to the trouble Jiro was in.

If the others would not come, his only choice was to fight back alone. Perhaps he could find a way to get to Yui. To make an opening for her to wrench back control from Misha. But he had already tried that and failed. Misha had said so herself: she was too powerful.

Jiro twitched in surprise when the door slid open. When the lights flickered on, he saw Misha standing in the doorway. Yui’s short hair was now braided, and she was dressed in a baggy t-shirt and shorts. Misha twirled around. “What do you think Jiro? You always liked it when I dressed like a boy.”

“…”

Misha took a step toward him. “Because of your allergies, there were all sorts of things that we weren’t able to do when I was alive. Kiss, fondle, make love. Maybe that’s what went wrong with us, Jiro.” Misha knelt down beside Jiro and put a hand on his chest. “Now we can make things right.”

“Yui, can you hear me? Stop this,” Jiro said. “Don’t let Misha control you! Take back your body!”

“It’s no use, Jiro. She can’t even hear your voice. Now hush. You’re ruining the fun. You can complain all you want …” Misha looked below his waist. “But your body is more honest. You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

Jiro shook his head frantically.

“I think we’ll skip the introductions and start the main act right away.” Misha slipped her fingers around Jiro’s waistband and began to pull. Jiro tried to roll away, but Misha pinned him down with her leg and continued to undress him.

What can I do? Is there anything?

When Jiro’s pants were halfway down his waist, Misha suddenly froze. Confused, Jiro craned his neck to look at her. Something was happening. Misha’s face had twisted up into a strange expression. It was almost as if there were two faces in one.

“Yui is that you? Keep fighting! Don’t give up!”

The hands on Jiro’s waistband twitched and wriggled. One hand tried to pull his pants down; the other jerked and pulled the waistband back up.

“That’s right! Fight her! You’re just as strong as she is!”

Suddenly, Misha stood up. She charged toward the wall behind Jiro and slammed Yui’s forehead into the wall several times. There was a cracking sound, like the snapping of firewood. When she turned, Jiro saw a trail of dark blood running from her hairline to her chin.

Misha took a deep breath, wiping the blood with the back of her hand. “Oops, that was close. She was a lot stronger than I thought. Tricky, tricky girl. She was waiting for a moment of weakness. Waiting for me to let down my guard.” Misha licked the blood off her wrist. “But even then I was too powerful for her. And now Jiro …” She knelt down beside him and began to tug on his waistband again. “There’s nobody to stop me from my reward.”

Jiro closed his eyes. So this is the end.

There was a sudden explosion in the doorway. The sliding paper door flew across the room, nearly striking Jiro in the head. Two blurred figures rushed into the room, knocking Misha off Jiro and pinning her to the floor.

“Tae! Sheena!”

More movement in the doorway. Swishes of red and white. It was Kaori and Sumire, both dressed in their priestess robes. Sumire had her staff held out in front of her. Her eyes were closed and she was muttering something under her breath. Misha began to thrash and scream.

Kaori rushed over to Jiro and untied his bonds.

“Kaori … how?”

“No time Jiro, we’re going to exorcise the spirit. Mother and I are going to chant. When I give you the signal, I want you to kiss Yui. Can you do that?”

Jiro sat up … and promptly fell back to the floor. His arms and legs were numb from being bound. Kaori pulled Jiro up and smacked him in the face.

“Jiro, answer me! Can you do it?”

“Y-yes, I can.”

Kaori nodded. She went to her mother. Then, facing Misha with her hands clasped together, she too began to mutter and chant. The two voices joined into one, filling the room like a powerful heatwave.

Next to Jiro, Misha’s thrashing grew stronger. Several times, she lifted Tae, who was pinning down her legs, into the air with her feet and slammed her into the tatami. With her head, already covered in blood, she tried to headbutt Sheena and rip at her face with her teeth. The air was thick with torn straw, hair, and the smell of blood. The superhuman strength of two kaiju was barely enough to keep Misha under control.

“Jiro now!” shouted Kaori.

With all his remaining energy, Jiro fell forward and began to crawl on his elbows and knees toward Yui, forcing his numb and tingling limbs to move. He crawled past Tae and Sheena, who were pushing down on Yui with all their might. Veins bulged on their arms and legs.

When Jiro’s eyes met Misha’s, he paused. These were no eyes filled with vengeance or anger. They were filled with fear.

“Jiro please don’t do this!” Misha said. “If you do t-this we’ll never be together again. I’ll die for real.”

“I’m sorry …” He leaned forward to kiss her.

“Murderer. You will murder me again!”

Jiro stopped.

Misha began to laugh hysterically. “Th-that’s right. You heard me. You killed me the first time, and now you’re going to kill me again. That’s all you are, a foul, life-destroying, cowardly, pathetic murderer!”

Jiro looked down at Misha wriggling on the floor. Nobody spoke. He could feel the others watching him. Jiro shook his head. “You’re wrong. For too long I’ve let you hold that over my conscience, Misha. No, for too long I’ve held that over my own conscience. But now I know. I didn’t kill you. You killed yourself. The consequences—and the choice—were yours. And with this kiss, we can both be free.”

“Jiro no wha—mhmh”

He tasted blood as Misha bit down on his tongue. His whole body tensed from the pain but he resisted to the urge to pull back. Misha bucked and thrashed. Then, without warning, Misha froze with her chest arched into the air.

Silence, then a piercing scream. A tremendous force exploded out of Yui’s lungs. She snapped like a bow, throwing Jiro, Tae, and Sheena off of Yui’s body and against the far wall. Her entire body began to tremor and shake. There was a rush of hot air. Then, Yui’s body lay still.

Jiro sat up with great effort. It felt like he had been slugged by a giant fist. Next to him, unfazed by the blast, Sumire and Kaori were still chanting and murmuring. Above Yui’s body, he saw the air was shimmering, like the desert sky on a hot day.

Suddenly a voice, barely a whisper, filled his ears. “Jiro, please! Save me!”

He did not answer.

Then the shimmering air, as if by vacuum, was pulled into the staff Sumire’s held raised in the air. Misha screamed one last time. The paper dangling on the staff twitched and blackened. Then, as if lit by a sudden flame, it disappeared in a flash of light and a puff of smoke.

She was gone.