Miho the Killer
Chapter 70: Return

Chapter 70: Return

I couldn’t sleep well.

I haven’t been able to. For a while now.

And when I did, I woke up easily to the softest noise. A rustle of leaves in the wind outside, a caw of a crow at night - they don’t normally do, so why are they doing this to me? -, Miho’s occasional outburst of screams during her sleep, at which point I get out of my bed, climb up the ladders, and try to comfort the girl who’s still sound asleep anyway and often shifts to silly giggles. Whatever this girl’s dreaming, I’d never know.

But tonight, I woke up to the sound of the piano. I’m not sure what time it was, but considering that I tend to fall asleep between one and two in the morning, this was certainly very late - and also considering that there were only Miho and I in the room - obviously -, it could only be that somehow Miho thought it was a good idea to play piano in the middle of the night - probably close to 3 AM.

"Are you OK?"

I got off the bed, rubbed my eyes, and put on my slippers.

Miho did not answer, but she continued to play.

It was a rather fast and clumsy rendition of Moonlight Sonata First Movement, which I demonstrated to Miho a few days ago as she told me she really wanted to learn it after I played it for her once.

I was impressed enough she could already play it, albeit with a lot of mistakes along the way, but something felt off.

I approached her from behind and called out her name once again, but she still did not respond.

When I stood next to her and looked at her, I noticed that she was playing with her eyes closed. Not that she could see the keys clearly enough in the darkness anyway, but it made me wonder if she was kind of sleepwalking or something, which I hadn’t seen her do before.

I quietly sat next to her on the piano chair. It was cramped, but I managed.

Miho, as if she was in a trance, continued to play and I hummed along, trying to guide her to the correct rhythm. It was of no use though, but I didn’t mind - until she abruptly changed the tune and started to play Hanon Exercise 1.

"Hey, Miho. Are you alright?"

I lifted my head up from leaning on her shoulder, brought my face close to hers, and realized that there were tears seeping through her closed eyes.

"Sh... it’s alright."

I wrapped my arm around her to offer comfort, and she slowed her hand movement up and down the scale and drifted back to a slower - and broken - rendition of the Moonlight Sonata again.

There was something odd. I knew she was awake. Yet she refused to acknowledge and continued to play, erratically speeding up and slowly down, almost coming to a halt only to restart again. Never progressing, just repeating the same opening arpeggios and melodies over and over with chaotic phrasings.

I didn’t know what was happening, but as she continued to hammer away, I felt incredibly emotional too. There were sadness, despair, and catharsis all rolled into one in her most amateurish playing.

Then it turned into something that was no longer musical. Miho started to bang on the keys with her palms like a little child throwing tantrum, but accompanied by primal scream of fear and loathing, brooding growl and heartbreaking roar.

And she cried.

And I cried together with her.

After a few minutes of manic destruction of herself, Miho stopped.

And we both stopped crying.

"I’m terrible, aren’t I?"

Miho finally spoke, her voice trembling.

"No, you are not."

"Don’t lie."

Perhaps I shouldn’t.

Not anymore.

"A little. Maybe. I’m sorry." I acknowledged.

"I’m sorry about your friend."

My heart felt like a small, pulsating pea.

There was no more strength in me to relive the emotions that I had once felt about Minji’s death or what I’d done to Kwon.

"The scary woman."

But even my pea-sized heart was still capable of being torn apart.

"Say no more, Miho."

"How could you accept someone like her?"

"Because that’s also you. You are who you are. And I accepted you as all of you."

"You are horrible."

"I know."

"And too kind."

"Maybe."

I leaned my head on her right shoulder and she leaned her head on mine. We were two horrible women who had nowhere else to go except for the path that lay in front of us that could only lead to hell. Things we have done cannot be undone. For the lives we had taken, we had to live with the scars. Small price to pay compared to those who suffered in our hands.

But how many scars can a heart carry - and would these wounds ever heal if two hearts can combine?

As the blood gushed out from the deep cuts in our hearts, the only thing we could do was press each other harder. These cuts would never mend, but as long as our hearts were together perhaps we could stop the bleeding.

"Shall we run away?"

I suggested. Knowing the answer. Not even hoping for a miracle.

Yet I wanted to find solace in dreaming about the impossible.

"Yes, let’s do that."

Miho felt the same.

"Where would you like to live? By the sea? In a mountain? Or some glitzy city in another country?"

"I’d like to live in a small village by the sea. Maybe an island."

"What kind of house shall we live in?"

"Maybe we build our own. With bricks, of course. Otherwise, it’d get blown away when the big bad wolf comes."

"Do you think the big bad wolf would come even if we lived in a small village on a remote island?"

"It will. And I’ll kill it when it comes."

"And then?"

"Another one will come, and I’ll kill it too."

"And then?"

"I will kill every single one of them until there’s no more of them left."

"You are such a romantic, Miho."

Miho said nothing, lifted her head again, and kissed me on my crown.

Miho is back.

There will be blood.

And I love her.

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