She stares at the camera like she’s looking right at me, and it makes me wonder what she sees.A hideous beast?A monster?
Or a man who’ll stop at nothing to protect her?
SEVENTEEN
FENRIR
PRESENT
Five daysof the same walls.
Five days of the mountain view outside.
Five days of nothingness.
Only five days and I already feel like I’m losing my mind.
Other than what Hayami has had for breakfast, how much work she’s done for her university course, what book she’s currently reading, and how long she spends in the shower, there’s been nothing to report.
She’s been calm.There’ve been no attempts on her life, no hint of intruders or the house being watched, and there’s been no strange activity.Nothing that explains why half the Devall staff hate this place and why Junko visited once and never wanted to return.I’ve even convinced myself that the hysteria surrounding this place must be due to its remoteness and the fact that you’re cut off from the real world, so you start to think it doesn’t exist anymore.
I’ve kept Markus informed, although there’s been little to share with him.I’ve asked for an update on the Castros, but Markus is remaining tight-lipped.
Willa has been on watch during the day, reporting to me on our handover that Hayami has completed her university work, listened to some lectures, and made pasta for lunch.She tends to sleep in the afternoon after watching something on Netflix and hasn’t yet complained about her incarceration.
Willa has completed a full book of sudoku, and Hayami has persuaded her to read one of the books she found in the library.I take over around eight o’clock, with Hayami either watching TV or reading until she goes to bed around eleven.I’ve been keeping to the security room as much as possible, as I’m not sure how to be around her when Willa isn’t here.I’m no saint, and having her so close with no one else to interrupt us is too much temptation.
There’ve been no tantrums.No explosions from Hayami.Willa even suggested that this break has done her some good, given her time away from her father.Willa said she seems relaxed here, which is more than can be said for us.Willa is either on her phone—keeping tabs on Marta—or shivering at the quiet of this place.
I’m not sure how I feel in this house.I try to sleep during the day, but it’s difficult.My mind is plagued with too much for it to ever rest, so I’ve been working out in my room—doing squats, planks, sit-ups, push-ups, anything to keep my thoughts from straying to Hayami, of fires, of how fucking quiet it is up here.At night, I’m focused on the screens, watching a sleeping Hayami, wondering what dreams she’s having and whether they will ever come true.
Tonight is no different.Hayami’s reading in bed with the covers pulled up under her chin.The tiny lamp blares on the side.I note the jerk of her head, the dip of the book.It wouldn’t be the first time she’s fallen asleep whilst reading, and I’ve gone in and gently removed the book from her hands and tucked her in.But tonight, she gives in to sleep, puts the book on the bedside table, and pulls the covers back.
She’s wearing T-shirt and shorts similar to the pair she wore on the first night.After swinging her legs out of bed, she makes her way to the en suite.Even in the dim light, I can make out the shape of her legs, the beauty of her frame, and it makes the walls of this room feel smaller than they are.
The en suite door closes behind her.
The time is eleven sixteen.
Over the last few nights, I’ve worked out that it takes her eight minutes in the en suite before she goes to bed.She must be brushing her teeth, flossing, using mouthwash, and maybe a last-minute application of face cream, but whatever she does in there takes her eight minutes.
If she goes a second over, I’ll break the fucking door down.
The time is eleven nineteen.
I swivel the chair slightly, trying not to watch the clock but pay attention to the screen.
Eleven twenty-two.
A weather warning flashes up on my phone.Torrential rain for the next twelve hours.Nothing new.All it seems to do up here is rain.
Eleven twenty-three.
My hand brushes over my Glock resting on the desk.I’ve been itching to go to the firing range and wondering if there’s anywhere out here I can set up a makeshift target.I hate the thought of getting rusty.
Eleven twenty-four.
Pushing the chair back, I ready myself to run, but as I palm my gun, the en suite door opens and Hayami emerges.I imagine the minty freshness of her breath and her glowing skin as she makes her way over to her bed.