"Uncle… what's happening?" Emiko's voice was small, barely a whisper.
Riku smiled, that same smooth, tender smile that had always fooled her. "This is Douma. He's the bodhisattva who will save you."
"Save me? From what?"
He bent down, tracing her chin with his finger — a gesture that once felt affectionate, now ice-cold. "From your pain, dear. You've been far too alone for too long."
Emiko's consciousness was returning now, piece by piece. She looked between Riku and Douma — those rainbow-colored eyes, that towering, inhuman figure. Her stomach turned.
"But… I'm not alone," she said, grasping for something solid. "I have you. I have Mother."
Riku laughed. It was a terrible sound — wrong, fractured. "You certainly have me, Emiko. But your mother?" He tilted his head, almost pitying. "Let's just say Douma can… replace that role."
Emiko shot to her feet, terror flooding her veins. "Replace?! Uncle, what the hell are you talking about?! Where's Mother? And this man — he's not human! What's happening?!"
Riku raised a hand. Douma's power pinned her to the wall before she could take a single step.
"Ascend your niece to heaven," Douma commanded, his voice like silk over stone. "Now, Riku."
Riku's eyes turned red — but oddly, tearfully so. He approached her, smiling through what almost looked like grief.
"You know, dear… for so many years, I saw you as my daughter." His voice cracked. "As close as you think you are to your mother, you don't realize she's the one stopping you from ascending to the heavens. She's the reason for your loneliness. I see it — the way she makes you cry." He reached out, cupping her face. "So please, my dear niece… if you let me… Douma can save us. He can take us to the heavenly realm."
Emiko sobbed, pressing herself against the wall. "No. Get away from me. I want my mother."
Riku's eye twitched — a flicker of rage — but he forced the smile back. "I want your mother too," he whispered. "But first… drink."
He raised a vial of blood to her lips.
Emiko screamed.
---
And then — silence.
A clean, absolute silence.
Douma was gone. Vanished as if he had never been there.
And Riku's head hit the floor with a heavy, final thud.
No blood. No markings. No trace of the finishing move.
Emiko collapsed to her knees, gasping, trembling — and looked up.
There, standing in the shadows where Douma had been moments before, was her mother.
The axe hung loose in her hand. Her eyes were calm, but burning.
"Mom…?"