Reincarnated Into A Dead Woman's Body In Another World-Chapter 360: Arc 5, - 54: Recoup Part I

’We told everything we could to Kazuo Namora that same night once we returned. He had no quarrel giving Tiffany the spare room to stay in while he rushed out of the house past midnight.

Kineko was fast asleep and with the image of yet another crucified body fresh in our minds, we were all forced into uneasy sleep. There’s no doubt, no doubt at all that something new would be waiting for us when we awoke.

But... when we awoke, it was just the start of another morning. Kazuo Namora hadn’t returned home and Kineko was the only one questioning his whereabouts; a simple answer as ’work’ did the trick—not like that was a lie.

It’s around, eleven a.m. right now. I can’t help it. Why? What’s the true purpose of the cult? Collect souls—then what? They’re anarchists in every sense of the word, but is that all there is to it?

That man last night... Laughing like a hyena as he ran... Are they all just mad? Or was it just a coincidence? Hmph. To offer themselves to be nailed up on a board and bleed to death so that their soul is reaped; would I call someone that does that sane?

I don’t know. Would I call myself sane? I suppose there’s different depths of insanity, I may be just skirting the line in between. Ugh, why do I make everything sound overdramatic-’

"Aunty?"

"Huh?" Jotou broke out of it. Looking down at the table, she saw the outline of a lizard-like head. Well, almost lizard-like. "Sorry, I was just lost in thought."

"What was aunty thinking about?" Kineko peered up. She sat on the carpet and had a pencil in hand that she tapped against the coffee table.

"Adventure-y things silly, what else?" Jotou giggled and leaned forward from the sofa. "Uhm, you have the shape right, but the head’s a bit too bumpy."

"It’s okay, he has a vewry lumpy head! Can I paint him now?" she was already grabbing the paintbrush.

"You sure you wanna keep what looks like an egg on its head? You can just erase the top bit-"

"I want to paint!" she whined and kicked her feet against the coffee table.

’...Sigh. Kids.’ "Oh fine, but don’t complain if it looks weird," she shrugged and prepared some colours on a small plastic palette. "You wanna know how you can make this look more fantastic?"

Kineko nodded in glee and paid attention.

Jotou picked up red, green and gold colour pencils and arranged them below the paper. She took the red pencil, "You can add a few lines that add a little flair. Sometimes, dragons have these noodle moustaches.

You can also add some pencil colouring to make the lines harder and easier to paint. Better yet, if you paint over the lines, you can make this cool solid slash translucent effect on it.

This is the base of the dragon, so you’re like, building a dragon with other parts. Depending on the style of dragon, you can be very flowy or very strict. The one I’m teaching you’s more flowy—you don’t even have to colour inside the lines~"

Jotou drew a few streaks of red, yellow and gold together, making a long wavy line across the top lip of the head—one side short and the other side longer. It looked foreign on the base drawing.

"Woah..." Kineko stared at it. "I don’t even need to colouwr inside the lines?"

"Depends on the style, but for this case, no," Jotou set the pencils down. "You can draw the eyes with a pen after you painted them. That’ll make it more striking." She passed the paper to Kineko.

Kineko immediately took the paintbrush, dipped it in red paint and began painting over the piece.

"Wait, no, that’s too, mh..."

Kineko was happily painting away despite Jotou’s protests.

"You need more solid lines to decorate it first and the paint’s too thick, you have to mix it with much more water for that translucent effect..." Jotou exhaled out.

"It’s okay! It’ll be extwra colourful!" she just kept going at it, soaking the paper in paint.

Jotou sat back up with a hand over her eyes. ’And you wanted me to teach you... Oh whatever, as long as she likes it in the end. I have other things to worry about.

What am I even on about? It’s not like I’m gonna be able to figure out everything about the cult by tomorrow. We know a lot about the murders, the victims, the hows, the souls—but as for the cult itself.

We’re lacking evidence... so much of it. Are we really gonna be the ones who take the cult down? Hm. I guess time’ll tell. Until then, I’m trusting a lot to you detective.’

Jotou picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in a dot of yellow. "Boop~!" she put a yellow dot of paint onto Kineko’s cheek and giggled.

Kineko gasped and immediately smeared it against her own cheek. She turned around to Jotou and aimed her paintbrush dipped in too much red paint...

Meanwhile, upstairs; Fumeko sat at her vanity and watched the mirror. She had not checked on Tiffany since she went into the spare room last night.

And of course, in spite of the events of last night’s pursuit, her memory went back to that kiss they shared. She growled and shook her head, "Can you seriously not think about that, right now?" she said to herself.

She moved strands of dark brown hair away from her face and leaned in closer to the mirror. She gave a groan at what seemed to be a small bump of acne to the side of her face, usually covered by hair.

Ignoring it, she simply ran her hands through her- through her—"Ow,"—hair. Opting not to use a comb, she parted it the best she could with several strands pulled out along the way as usual.

She tied it into her usual twin-tails, but the more she looked at it in the mirror, the more flaws she could point out. She took them out and did it again, then again and for the final time.

No matter what, her hair had grown much longer than she had last cut it. Some of the uneven strands—the extra volume made it look fuzzy and unkept. What a nuisance. It looked fine just a few days ago, but now... "Ghh!"

"Fumeko?"

Fumeko turned to the voice outside the door.

"Are you okay?" Hotaru’s voice it was.

"Yeah, I’m fine wolfy, come in."

Hotaru entered the room, with her fresh morning face and well-mannered demeanour.

"Hey, you have long hair, how do you keep it?" Fumeko inquired immediately.

"Hm? Well, comb it every morning evenly, fluff out the bangs a little and cut a few strands every now and again. Having trouble?" the wolf-girl approached.

"You make it sound so easy... How does my hair look? Crappy isn’t it?" Fumeko turned to the mirror again.

Hotaru’s ears flickered, "They look, like they usually do? Not crappy, just usual Fumeko."

"You need your eyes checked then," Fumeko scowled. "This is not usual."

"Looks fine to me," Hotaru stood behind her. "If you want me to trim it a little, I don’t mind. But it’s about proper grooming, not just the cut."

"What, you’re saying I’m not good at that?" she glared to her in the mirror.

"Yes, I thought that was clear," Hotaru tightened her lips. "Honestly, lately you’ve cared more and more about how you look. You hardly ever cared before, why the change? The City of Fashion and Flare getting to you?"

"No," the brunette left it at that.

"...Would you like me to comb your hair a little?" she blinked a few times.

"Sure."

Hotaru pulled over the chair from the desk and sat behind her. She undid the hair and spoke, "You always picked something cool or something ’awesome’. The charm of normal beauty standards never really applied to you."

"Why d’you come in here wolfy?"

"To check up on you. You’ve been having a crisis for a while now."

"Well duh, there’s homicide cases and a cult mystery to solve—or at least expose."

"Aside from that," Hotaru took a comb and began running it down the dark brown locks. "You’ve been acting off lately. I’m just worried about you. We’re all dealing with the case you know.

We’ve all been stressed, but you’re hiding it the most—and I can see you slowly unravelling."

"Well wolfy, since you’ve been so perceptive, I’m sure you know the answer," Fumeko’s eyes rolled.

"I can take a few guesses. But why assume when I can just ask?"

"..."

Hotaru scoffed, knowing she was simply going to have to guess. "I assume it’s about your dad and being a good detective. Is the pressure building up on you?"

"That should be obvious."

Her crimson ears bristled, "You need to cut it out with the attitude young lady, it’s not helping anyone, including you," she snapped.

"..." The brunette’s shoulders shrunk and her head lolled forward.

"Is it about last night?" Hotaru moved on.

"Kinda..."

"You did the best you could. You arguably did the best out of all of us there. Why do you keep looking down on yourself? You’ve done great things Fumeko."

"...Sorry." It was so silent—so frail. A butterfly’s wings could flap louder.

...

Hotaru continued combing her hair and parted it to her usual look—all with a look of pity.

"I don’t know what you need to hear, but I’ll just say what’s on my mind. You may be arrogant, smart, snappy and cute in your own way, but I don’t think you like yourself."

Fumeko furrowed her eyebrows, tense.

"I’ve seen a sincere and kind Fumeko Namora plenty of times before. And that girl seemed much more happy with herself—much more hopeful."

"You’re wrong," she retorted within a second. She stared daggers at the mirror, "You think I hate myself? Seriously? How d’you come to that bright conclusion?"

...

...

"I never said hate," Hotaru tied the base of the twin-tails and let the hair go. She got up silent and sombrely while Fumeko stared at the mirror with somewhat widened eyes.

She kept staring as Hotaru walked away, "I’ll be around if you wanna talk..." the redhead shut the door and left.

... 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Her hair had been done, but it still looked the same as before. The tense brows only created more wrinkles along her face. Did she? The question rolled around her mind like a marble in a teacup.

"I, don’t like myself...?" she watched the lips of the reflection ask. In that moment, her eyes trailed down, all the way to her vanity and with it, all her arrogance fell—thrown aside like a wet sponge.

No; this was a question she had answered long ago. When she had met her first true friend in Kria. How she acted, how she behaved, who she was—she did not like it one bit.

She didn’t like herself, ever since she got to interact with other people on a regular basis, other than her dad.

The answer was right there for so long and yet only when the question was posed did she acknowledge it. So why? Why did this shell of a personality remain? It’s not as if she hadn’t tried to change. Even Hotaru had spelled it out, another Fumeko does in fact exist.

She stared and stared intently at the mirror in silent contemplation. It seemed, the detective had another case to solve...