Chapter Text
Sakura had driven around ridges and up steep slopes. Snow and ice hazard signs dotted the road, warnings of avalanches blazed across her eyes. ‘Comforting. One wrong move and you could fall right over the side,’ she thought after one particularly sharp hairpin turn lacking a much needed guardrail.
The invitation and information packet boasted the best view of the valley below and the peaks beyond. ‘At this altitude, I’d expect it.’ Besides which in one way or another she’d paid exorbitant price for the privilege.
An hour into the drive, snowflakes began to fall in a gentle cascade, melting on the asphalt. The signal on her phone stuttered in and out. Rock walls which had been chiseled and dynamited to carve the winding road, narrowed in on her as she branched off onto a long and steep gravel driveway surrounded by forest. Midway up a heavy iron gate with a keypad barred the way.
“They weren’t kidding when they said this place was private,” Sakura muttered, rolling down the window to punch in the number. The wind blasted across her face, a sharp reminder of how much colder it was than the parking lot she and Ino had strolled together hours earlier. The gates rolled back and closed behind her after she drove through. ‘There's nothing around here for miles,’ she thought.
The message was clear; If you weren’t invited you weren’t getting in.
Mount Hakuō rose behind the European-style lodge, every jagged peak like the hackles of the wolf it was said to resemble. Surrounded by rocks and evergreen trees the high pointed eaves and chimneys piping lazy wisps of smoke into the sky wouldn’t have looked out of place if it tumbled from the sky and landed somewhere in the Alps.
Beneath the porte-cochere, Sakura stepped out and stretched while attendants in spiffy uniform rushed out.
“Yamano Reiha greets you, honored guest. May I see your invitation?” a woman in a blazer and skirt asked, bowing low as she held out her hands. “Ah, Haruno-sama,” She said, eyes flicking up from the tablet she’d glanced at. “Welcome! I see you drove yourself—any trouble?” No one else had arrived without a driver and the few vehicles that were on the property belonged to staff.
Returning the greeting bow, Sakura handed her keys over.
“Not for me, but Yamanaka Ino won’t be attending—last-minute accident,” she said, retrieving her doctor’s bag. That alone she would not part with. ‘Let them do their jobs,’ she chided herself, tamping down the urge to collect her own belongings. “She’s alright, just a nasty fall.”
“Then I shall wish her a speedy recovery. This way, please…” Reiha gestured towards the doors. “Shūkaryō Lodge offers an unparalleled experience. Nestled away from bustling tourist hubs, you and your group will enjoy unmatched views. With the exception of Mito Academy’s other esteemed ladies, you won’t see another soul on our slopes. There is also our natural Onsen—it's one of a kind, I assure you.”
‘When she speaks its like hearing a travel brochure.’ But Sakura smiled in the polite, professional way she’d honed over the years. "It's a lovely place.” The ceiling of the reception hall and lounge was high, held aloft by great timber beams and stone. A fireplace, burning hot as it crackled dominated the far end of the room. Couches and armchairs half circled the fireside, plush fabric soaking up its warmth.
The pendulum of an ornate long clock swung, tick-tocking away. ‘Sasori would love this place—sans people.’ Sakura wished he was at her side. ‘It won’t be long.’ She savored the heat of the fire, contemplating the flames as her and Ino’s leftover bags were collected by the staff. “How long has this place been here?”
“This portion of the lodge was built in the 1900’s but the Onsen has been here much longer. We do our utmost to keep its old charm intact.”
Bronze statuary ringed the lounge—hunters of yore in their straw coats stood frozen, spears and bows aimed at a stag in mid-rear. Its antlers stretched wide and gnarled, throwing shadows across the floor. “It seems like a waste to close the whole place down for an entire week. There aren’t that many of us.” It might have been a different story if the reunion had included the entire academy. ‘That school was never like other places.’
“We’re very well compensated by our clientele and…well, up in these mountains you’ll find many are…superstitious. In short, most of the locals don’t have any particular fondness for this place, no matter how stunning it may be.” They wouldn’t set foot on what they considered defiled grounds. ‘The director has never bothered with outreach either.’ Sometimes Reiha thought the hotel existed in a realm all its own.
“Superstitious? It's not ghosts, is it?” Sakura cringed and clutched her bag tighter. She could handle overgrown bullies from hell. Interlopers from the afterlife were another matter. ‘This better not be a haunted hotel...’ She could handle anything life threw at her. ‘Ghosts aren’t living therefore they are the exception.’
Some people liked a good scare, but from body language alone, Reiha could tell this guest wasn’t one of them. “No, but equally nonsensical; the locals claim this lodge is an affront to the mountain god. There was an old shrine up here long ago but it fell into ruin when the land was developed. It was not looked upon kindly.”
Given its isolated, rugged location people did have a tendency to go missing. ‘or getting eaten by the wildlife.’ But only when they ventured too far from the grounds. Still, those were things Reiha would never tell a guest.
“Ah.” The tension in Sakura’s shoulders eased. ‘One less thing to worry about.’ She looked at the snow falling outside the window and saw that the road had begun to disappear beneath a blanket of white. “I noticed I don’t have a signal up here…” She wasn’t sure when it’d gone out, but all her bars had disappeared.
“The service can be quite spotty but rather than an inconvenience, consider it as a way to decompress and focus on the moment.” Reiha saw the familiar look of dissatisfaction that nearly every guest held for such a claim. ‘Phone addicts.’ She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“The internet is provided by satellite, sometimes the weather can interfere.” The location alone made up for all the inconveniences. “Not to worry, if you can’t find a signal we have a landline for your convenience—and not that anyone should have need of it there is an emergency radio in the manager’s office.”
Sakura watched the older woman's practiced smile, noting the tightness around her eyes—the kind that came from repeating the same rehearsed lines to unappreciative guests. ‘I wonder if that’s what I look like when talking to patients and their families.’ She hoped not.
“Now, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a tour? Or would you prefer to go straight up to your room?” In her hand Reiha held the antique barrel key, the #7 dangling from its flourished, decorative head. “The rest of your group arrived some time ago and hit the slopes.” The handsome guide had even charmed the less athletically inclined of the group to go along. ‘Takahiro-san will make himself a small fortune in tips before the day is through. How fortunate of him.’
“Actually, I’d love that.”
The ground floor held the reception area, a ballroom with a full bar, a dining hall and the main kitchen where the chefs toiled. ‘Of course there’s an indoor pool.’ A breezeway led outside, one path ended at the glass garden and the other ascended up the mountain in a series of steep steps. ‘The guest rooms don’t even start until the second floor.’
“And here we have the secondary kitchen. It's stocked full of the staples but if you have need for something particular, we’ll be happy to accommodate.” Although Reiha very much doubted the majority could accomplish more than a scrambled egg on toast. “Dinner is at five, shortly after that the staff vacate the premises until the next morning.” It was policy, one she strictly adhered to. “Breakfast is served at eight, and lunch is at your convenience from 12 onward.”
The second floor had a sizable library and one glance through its windows gave Sakura a clearer view of the more familiar, traditional irimoya roofs, the slopes peeking over the white dusted pines. “Isn’t it a bit strange to leave guests up here alone? They could get into all kinds of trouble.”
Sakura’s eyes slid across the room where a beverage cart with glittering crystal glasses sat close at hand, the decanters full of amber and honey-toned liquid. ‘There’s enough liquor in this place to keep Tsunade pickled all through winter.’ Sakura wouldn’t touch a drop of it though. ‘Not with the company I’ll be keeping.’
“Our patrons are a mature, well mannered lot.”
Sakura almost laughed. “And by that you mean rich enough to make nearly any problem go away…What happens if that,” She nodded out towards the window. “Goes on and gets worse in the night?”
“In that unlikely event we arrive by snowmobile—snowcat in the worst case. Nothing short of hell freezing over could prevent us.” None of the others had asked so many questions. ‘Well, she is that man’s wife.’ Reiha had done her research on all the guests.
She always did.
“Now, the third floor is merely guest rooms and more storage. I'd say the views up there are quite spectacular, but here—every window has its charm and every room is a suite.” Reiha said as they came to a stop outside room #7. “And if you’ve no further need of me, this is where I shall leave you.” She handed over the key.
The door unlocked easily, the hinges didn’t creak. ‘Everything in this place is pristine.’ Sakura dropped her bag on the marble topped table and let loose a sigh, head tipped back towards the ceiling. “Alright, time to get to work.” The luggage that had arrived before her sat at the wayside, waiting to be unpacked.
Away went her boots and heels and walking shoes.
A demure cocktail dress comprised of black silk and lace was hung next to another in red—A dangerous thing, one that was made to bare the back and arms, its skirt split high. A leather jacket hung at the end, looking out of place among its more refined company.
“Take both,” Sasori had breathed against her neck, having watched her fret over the matter for entirely too long. “But know that red is the one you should choose.” His nose nuzzled against her nape, insistent.
Even now, in the quietness of her empty room and the cloth of them sliding through her fingers, Sakura wasn’t sure which she would choose.
Instead she tucked away the sweaters Sasori had packed, each crease uniform in its sharp fold. Pants and socks, and all the rest were shoved into drawers. Lately her appetite had been nonexistent—perhaps worryingly so, but she skipped lunch all the same and finished flinging the rest of her things into their temporary places.
When she finally saw fit to leave her room, Sakura wandered the halls, trying to find the magic pocket where cell service existed. ‘No luck.’ From a passing window the winding mountain path caught her eye. ‘What better time is there than now?’
The ascent up to the Onsen was a brisk, fifteen minutes. The covered path was clear of snow but bore the marks of a recent salting. ‘Wouldn’t want anyone to slip and fall…again.’ A sudden chorus of chimes went off in her pocket.
Sakura pulled out her phone watching missed messages pop and disperse across the screen. “Oh, come on! This random spot?” Dead in the middle of the path, She spent a few moments sending out messages to the people that mattered and proceeded the rest of the way.
‘Must be the elevation.’ It was higher than the lodge itself and while the signal was low, it held—right up until she’d stripped off her boots and slid open the paper doors of the bathing station.
The scent met her first: not the pungent sulfuric minerals of the spring behind the second set of doors, but the wood.
Old and warm, meticulously cared for. The scent of beams that had been sanded and oiled many times over. they’d absorbed decades of steam and sun and cold air, leaving behind a smell that was deep, and full of stories. ‘It’s not the same.’ Familiar only in the vaguest, off-kilter way, but enough to make something in her chest tighten.
Not for a place, a person. ‘I really can’t go anywhere without him.’ If there was a quota for sighing she was likely to exceed it before the day was through.
It was cool inside but Sakura would be hard pressed to call it warm as she undressed and tucked her things into an empty alcove. Complimentary toiletries, towels, and a neatly folded yukata were arranged for use, everything tidy and intentional.
Humming, she filled the wash bucket and scoured her body. The water from the tap was warm but it cooled moments after hitting her body, leaving her shivering in its wake.
With her teeth clamped tight, Sakura was well and fully free of suds. She tied her hair off high and slid open the second set of doors. There, the air was choked with steam and even the wet stones that met her feet beneath the veranda were warm.
The water filling the rocky gorge was a milky white, so hot her first step in made her flinch. Her skin turned bright pink but she forged on until she hit the deepest point where the water hugged at her shoulders.
The falling snow prickled at her skin, melting away nearly as soon as they grazed her. They gathering at the crown of her head before succumbing to to the haze of heat rising around her. Sakura leaned her elbows against an outcropping and turned her eyes towards the sky.
A pair of northern shrikes flittered through skeletal branches, quick and sharp. Their identities only obvious to her because birds were among the few safe subjects Sasori, Deidara and Sai could yammer about.
“You call these owls? They are no more than mishappen blobs—no definition at all.”
“Well yours look too stiff, too perfect, un!
“Sakura said mine look like Rorschach blots…”
“…Fair.”
‘At least until it all descends into chaos…’ Tiny stalactites of ice shuddered in the wake of their flight. It was a mistake, but Sakura became too comfortable and began to doze only to be jolted awake by the raucous laughter. The sound of it was horrid, familiar in a way she wished she’d forgotten.
Turning, she saw the same doors she’d walked through slide open with a sharp clack.
There was a beat of silence as she was scrutinized by eyes that stayed the same, even as the faces surrounding them had changed through the years.
“Well, if it isn’t Sakura! My, my—your face is as pink as a snow monkey’s backside.” Ami’s laugh was a sharp, twittering thing.
“Monkey? More like the swine she used to trail after.” Kin scoffed. “Beasts usually flock together. Did she get tired of you?” Her dark eyes glinted.
“Now now.” Time had striped her once black hair with white but Suzume-sensei was still as condescending in her peacemaking as she had ever been. “Isn’t it so lovely that we’re all together again? Having so many successful pupils has been the highlight of my career.” Right along with all the bribes she’d taken under the table.
Sakura walked to the shallow end. “I don’t mean to sound pretentious, but try Dr. Sakura next time. I worked hard for the title.” She’d had to sacrifice so much to them to gain it. “As for Ino…well, she had a slip on the way up and couldn’t make it.”
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.” Ami would never forget the feeling of slimy vase water being forced down her throat. The way Ino’s perfectly manicured fingers gripped her jaw, sweetly convincing her it was poisoned. ‘Its all her fault.’ She glared at Sakura from across the pond.
“Clumsy bitch,” Tayuya grunted, an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth.
“Oh, you'd better not light that! This weather is already making me cough.” Umehara Tsukiyo’s complaints were punctuated by said coughs. “The two of you were practically sewn together, I’m surprised you came without her.” She said, pale eyes turning on Sakura. “Its been an age! What have you been up to?” She lived for juicy gossip. To hear it, to tell it to the right ear.
‘I told her something once.’ And for her stupidity, Sakura had burned.
“If I had a lighter you moon faced cunt,” Tayuya drawled, “I’d have smoked this whole damn place out.” Her gaze slid over Sakura from shoulders to toes, slow and derisive. “Look at that—you grew up…” Her lip curled. “ But you still look like someone I’d push into a locker.”
A few of the women exchanged glances, uneasy, but like always, they let Tayuya’s barbs pass unchallenged. She’d never been someone to cross.
Maeda Sayo hung her towel at a hook. “I hope you’re taking care of yourself, Sakura-san. A person in your profession should know best of all that you can’t take care of anyone if you can’t even account for yourself.” Then she turned to Kin. “About that contract—let’s finalize it before dinner.”
“Only for one of those Courtesans you’re toting around.” She wasn’t nearly the smoker Tayuya was, but Kin was more competitive and spiteful than anyone. ‘And even if I didn’t partake, for a 100,000 Ryo cigar I’d sure as hell start.’
“All work and no play…” Tsukiyo mumbled just before a hand gave her a shove. She tumbled into the onsen with a shriek. “Hot! Hot—!”
The splash sent a wave over Sakura, soaking her tied hair.
Kasumi snorted at the sight. She’d straight permed the puffball mass of hair that had made her so envious of Sakura. “Goodness. You look like a drowned cat.” Her tone carried the same saccharine cruelty as when she used to hide Sakura’s notebooks or scrawling cruel epitaphs across her desk.
“You should get your eyes checked” Fuki crossed her arms, the muscles in them still thick. “A cat has claws.” Blunt, unimpressed. She'd held Sakura down more times than Sakura could count, and she still carried herself with the same flat certainty she’d always had: Sakura was a thing meant to be pressed down.
Michiru dipped one toe into the water and wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, can we stop bickering already?” she sighed, voice feather-light and false. “We’re here to relax—take a trip down memory lane.” She said it the same way she’d once said; we’re all friends, right? Just do me one little favor before handing Sakura forged notes and letting her hang for them.
“That’s the spirit!” Suzume-sensei clapped her hands together, brittle and thin with age. “This is supposed to be a reunion! Isn’t it wonderful we’re all together again? My brightest, most accomplished class.” She was on the cusp of retiring and looked forward to eeking just a little more money out of them. ‘I only want my fair share.’
‘Accomplished at what?’ Sakura thought. ‘Cruelty? Climbing the ever precarious latter of fame and fortune?’ Rising from the water the steam curled around her body like a veil. “Oh, I am certainly taking a trip down that lane.” It would be better if they were Sakura’s nightmares and not her lived experiences. “Can’t say I’m enjoying it.”
Hyuuga Hiyori, already waist-deep in the water, let out an airy laugh. “Stress can cause wrinkles.” Her eyes skimmed Sakura with idle disinterest, the same look she used to give when pretending not to hear insults being whispered behind Sakura’s back. “And I’m not sure you could afford many of those.”
Truthfully, Sakura looked better at the end of her twenties then she ever had. Self-consciously, Hiyori rubbed her pinkies at the corner of her eyes, ever so careful not to pull or drag the skin. It had been her idea, years ago, to hide Sakura’s backpack on the school roof during typhoon season just to see what she’d do. ‘She was stuck up there for half the day.’ Her over plumped lips twitched.
“Given the amount of Botox you’ve had pumped into your face, I don’t think that’s a concern you can express. Literally.” Sakura replied as she climbed the steps out. The outraged gasp sent a giddy feeling straight through her. Gone were the days where she sniveled and cowered, fervently hoping for small acts of kindness.
“Old grudges…” Uchiha Yumeha tsked from where she was draped across a stone ledge. “Some people should let go of the past. It’s unbecoming.” The words were gentle, but the implication was scalding. Whatever Sakura got, it was because she deserved it.
Michiru nodded ever so primly. “It seems decorum is of a bygone era.”
Tsukiyo tapped a finger against her rounded cheek. “...Hmm didn’t you get married recently?” She was sure she’d heard it somewhere. “A foreign man…” An important man. It just wouldn’t come to her. “Ah, the air up here is just too thin to think.” That was the problem with her. She never really thought about anything until it was too late. “You know you’ve got like no social media presence? That’s almost like not existing.”
Sayo spared a chuckle at her expense. “If you can’t remember then its probably not important.” In her estimations Sakura was as consequential as the snow that fell. It was there but barely noticeable. “You could always try checking those cards of yours. Maybe they’ll give you a clue.” Tsukiyo was a terrible cartomancer.
Sakura took a good long look at them, the collection of faces she’d once feared, once struggled to endure—and just like time and pressure would turn coal into a diamond, something in her hardened.
‘The red it is.’ The tension that had bound her up for months or maybe even years finally began to unknot. One step and then another the water ran down her spine.
Kin’s voice sliced through the steam like a fallen bell. “…Those marks on your back.” A soft click of her tongue followed, disdain curling around every word. “With how high you’ve risen, I’d have thought you’d pay to get that ugly mess fixed up.” She was glad she hadn’t though. Of course she would admire it—her handiwork.
Kin’s hands had held the iron. Her hands had knotted in Sakura’s hair, coaxing out those muffled shrieks years ago.
A few women paused—hungry, horrified, fascinated in that peculiar way the callous always were. As long as they weren’t the target, they would happily feast on suffering.
Sakura didn’t look back. She didn’t give them the flicker of hurt they once fed on like starving beasts.
Instead, she reached for her towel and neatly folded yukata, her voice soft but deadly steady. “They’re only as ugly as the hands that made them.”
One arm slid into a sleeve, then the other.
With a quiet shrug Sakura settled the robe against her damp skin and tied it at her waist. “Its nice to see that some things never change.” That was Sasori’s favorite thing about people; predictability. ‘And I’m finally starting to appreciate it.’
The silence she left in her wake felt like a blade laid on the rim of the bath.
The walk back to her room was utterly frigid, Sakura’s teeth chattered noisily the whole way.
When it came time for dinner, Sakura was the last to arrive, clad in a deep red that clung to all she was. Hair not quite long enough to cover the mottled splotches beneath her shoulder blades.
“Bit much isn’t it? I mean its just dinner with old friends.” Kasumi let loose a stilted laugh. ‘I knew I should have done that CoolSculpting before coming here.’ Lately everything she put in her mouth turned to fat. “And I don’t say this to be gauche but…well, red is a bit bold for you—consider your coloring.”
"I'll take that as a compliment," Sakura’s eyes curved shut, her painted lips stretching in an unmistakably false smile. “After all, I’ve had to be bold to come this far.”
Kin’s own smile was like a hacksaw—crude but cutting all the same. ‘Just who the hell does she think she is? This just won’t do.’ From the moment she’d left them at the hot spring, everyone had been whispering about how confident Sakura had become. "I saved you a seat," she said sweetly.
It was the only one left at the table.
"Just like old times." Sakura said, allowing the attendant to pull out the chair. She sat, stiff backed, shoulders level.
‘She’s as tight as a strung bow.’ Tsukiyo cringed to see it.
The lodge staff moved silently around them, placing steaming plates of appetizers before each guest. Sakura noted the precision of their movements, the way they seemed to fade into the background despite their presence.
“I heard you transferred over to Suna a few years back. That must have been a struggle for you—to go from Konoha’s premier hospital to that sandpit.” Suzume studied her silverware meticulously, looking for so much as a spot to complain about. ‘I bet they think I’m just like them.’ Her eyes darted at the servers suspiciously. ‘That I don’t belong at this table, but I’m the reason they all came so far.’ She’d been the one to organize their get together too. ‘I got such a discount!’
The rest of it went straight into her bank account.
“It was a good opportunity for me.” They saw it as a fall from grace, but for Sakura it’d been a triumphant conquest.
“The GDP there has gone up in the last decade. It’s had a major economic boom since the revolution…” Sayo intoned passing the promised cigar across the table.
From across the table, Tayuya and Kin locked eyes; Orochimaru, the head of Hebi conglomerate had warned them to be careful when messing around in Kaze no Kuni.
“The times have changed. That place will eat you alive—but try if you dare, it’ll be entertaining.”
“A wise snake knows not to hunt prey it cannot swallow.” Yakushi’s glasses caught the glare of the lights.
Nothing had been explicitly forbade but thus far it was ground Kin had yet to break. ‘Still…’ Kin had made great strides since then, her influence had gown. ‘That cagey bitch Temari keeps refusing my calls. But if Sakura could survive there, I could take it by storm.’ It was a new market, plenty of profit to be made. ‘And if I can undercut Tayuya, all the better for me.’ She could tell at a glance, that her associate had the same thoughts. ‘There are no friends in business.’
The soup steamed. Conversation hummed. Knives glinted beside porcelain. Wine was poured.
Sakura stirred her soup once, twice—watching the liquid. She lifted the spoon to her mouth to let the heat brush her lips and then down it went back into the bowl. Nothing gained, nothing lost. The wine was treated no differently.
No matter how pretty or succulent the dish was, Sakura could only push it around her plate and pretend she was pleased.
Michiru nodded along to something Yumeha whispered to her, cutting her way through her lamb with more force than she needed.
‘I’d rather be at home. Sasori makes the best lamb stew.’ And Sakura hated lamb.
“I heard Ino married some nobody..” Ami sniped, glaring at the floral arrangement. “Isn’t that fitting? She always did gravitate to the riffraff.” Her eyes slid towards Sakura.
“You seem to think about her a lot.” Sakura said, arching a brow. “Funny—and I only say that because she doesn’t even remember your name.” Ino was lucky that way.
“Ha!” Hiyori’s barked a laugh. The meal itself could be timed by the way her glass was emptied and topped and emptied again.
The courses came and went until finally, they were on to dessert.
A lighter like a torch went off, burning the end of the cigar as she rolled it. One puff and then another, Kin took a long, drawn suck, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth until the end of her cigar smoldered a brilliant red, and held it precariously between her fingers.
It was so close to Sakura that the smoke drifted beneath her nose, the heat of it drawing a blossoming pink spot against her jaw.
The table seemed to hold its collective breath at the sight.
Tayuya smirked from across the way. “This really is a fucking blast to the past.”
“You should be careful.” Sakura turned her head, cheek dipping closer to the heated, red point. A loose lock of her hair began to curl and smolder. “Too many of those things and you might die a slow and painful death.” Unflinchingly, she stared straight into the dark pits of Kin’s eyes. “But that’s just some friendly advice from a doctor.” The smell made her stomach turn. ‘Maybe its the burnt hair.’ Sasori frequently came home smelling of smoke and she’d never been so bothered.
Kin’s lips twisted into a snarl, her grip on the bundle of tobacco tightened. ‘When did she change?’ Oh in that last year she’d gotten mouthy, she’d square her shoulders and dare a glance in her direction but only when her blonde shield was close at hand. ‘Lets see how tough you are.’ She tapped a finger and sent a hot crumble of embers mixed with ash plopping onto Sakura’s arm.
Sakura dropped her spoon and the sharp clink it made against her sorbet dish rang through the room.
‘So what if there are eyes everywhere.’ It would be their word against hers just like it had always been and Kin would make damn sure they stuck to her story. ‘Her husband? Probably some middling civil servant the likes of her would gravitate to.’
A dish was dropped, a server hastily bent to clean up the mess they’d made, apologizing.
“You big oaf.” Hiyori slurred, eyes drooping. “If you were one of my workers, you’d be fired.” Her finger wavered in the air, unsteadily taking aim at Sakura. “I’ve told you before, the lower class really ‘as no grace.”
'“For someone of such an esteemed family, you’re a terrible drunk.” Yumeha scoffed.
“You shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses.” Hiyori tapped a finger against one of her nostrils and gave a derisive sniff. “I’ve seen the way you party.”
Sakura’s shoulders flinched, napkin crushed in her fist. Her chair scraped the floor as she stood without warning. “I think I’ll turn in.” she dusted her arm off with her napkin and then threw it onto the table. On her way out of the dining room she seemed to list to the side, leaning heavily against the door frame.
Kin watched as the column of Sakura’s spine seemed to shiver beneath her skin. ‘That dress is like a perfect frame.’ Everyone could see the knots of silver scar tissue laced across her back. “Awfully timid for someone in medicine!” She exploded into laughter.
The room clamored to life once more, a round of stilted laughter and murmuring echoed through the hall as Sakura rounded the corner. The acrid smell of smoke and burnt hair walking with her.
A passing maid glanced at her pale face in concern but said nothing. ‘We observe and we serve.’ Those were the rules.
The hands of the great clock turned ever on, the guests dispersed through the lodge. Some carried on through the night with company, others spent it in solitude.
In time the staff finished clearing down and exited for the night, whispering amongst themselves. “Is it really ok to leave? I heard over the radio that the coming storm is going to get worse than they thought.” The driveway had been shoveled all through the day but the snow had begun to creep up on them again.
“…And you saw how they were at dinner!” Kouta had seen plenty of rich people behaving badly but nothing like that. ‘Booze, drugs, prostitutes and a bunch of other weird occult shit but nothing that intense.’
“I saw Haruno-sama in the hall, she didn’t look well at all.” Junko glanced towards the lodge, face stinging as the wind blew snow in her face. “And you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I heard.” The maids had all heard things. Things that had passed, things that had yet to pass.
“Whatever it was you’d best keep it to yourselves. ” Reiha replied, climbing into her vehicle. “Would any of you like to stay the night with them?”
No one looked her in the eye, grimaces stretching over their faces.
“Precisely my point.” The door clipped closed, ending any further debate. “We’ve endured storms before—this will be no different than all the rest.” Reiha told herself, the distant lights of the lodge shining in her rearview mirror.