World of the Living, Takeda Residence
In a room deep within the estate, the lights burned bright. Shadows swayed across the paper doors, and hurried, chaotic footsteps echoed through the halls. Takeda Suzuko lay on the birthing bed, her face as pale as paper, the hair on her forehead soaked with sweat and plastered to her skin in strands. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, as if she were saying something—or nothing at all.
The midwives crowded around the bed, their gestures hurried, their hushed exchanges filled with terms the others could not understand. Maids came and went carrying hot water and clean towels, their wooden sandals making soft, scattered sounds against the hallway floor.
Suzuko's husband knelt in the outer room with his head lowered, both hands clutching the fabric over his knees. Takeda Nobumoto stood at the far end of the corridor.
At some moment, Suzuko's consciousness left her body.
She looked down and saw herself lying there, her belly swollen high, her face deathly pale.
The midwives were still working, but their movements had slowed. Someone shook their head, very slightly, but Suzuko saw it. She heard crying, and her husband's voice, suppressed and forced out from deep in his throat.
Then came Takeda Nobumoto's voice from the end of the corridor, only two words: "Enough!"
The sounds in the room gradually faded. The midwives stopped their work, and the maids retreated to one side. Someone covered their mouth.
Suzuko watched it all and said, "I'm here."
But no one could hear her.
She looked down at her translucent body, faintly glowing. A thin chain extended from her soul's chest, its other end connected to the body lying on the birthing bed.
She heard her family calling her name—her husband's voice, the maids' voices, and...