Aeration

“Can you tell me what happened on that night?”

Ginseng didn’t expect a reply. He wasn’t the only creature to come and ask questions today. All of them had left disappointed so far.

Still, he was paid to at least try.

“How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”

He already knew the answer, of course. But, there was still no reply.

Ginseng sighed and tapped his claw on his beak. Clearly, she wasn’t going to answer him. He really needed some, though. It was bad enough such a gruesome discovery shocked the nation, but no one had any idea what had happened. Tapioca was the only surviving witness, and she hadn’t spoke once since the incident.

Ginseng looked around the hospital room. Many of her friends and family had written cards, but they were clearly set up for display by the staff. The blinds were closed. A small plant was sitting on the windowsill, getting no light.

Ginseng got up and walked over to the window. Picking up on the plant, he turned back to Tapioca. “This is a pretty plant. Did someone send this to you?”

No answer. Tapioca watched him this time, though. It was a slight improvement.

“Have you watered it recently?”

Tapioca kept watching him.

“How about I water it for today?”

Ginseng didn’t wait for her lack of an answer. He grabbed the bottle of water he got from the vending machine earlier and emptied some onto the soil.

Placing it back onto the windowsill, Ginseng eyes the blinds. Besides the plant definitely needing some sun, maybe the sunlight would brighten up the place enough to get Tapioca to talk some.

Ginseng let the light in. The view was gorgeous; he could see the Canterlot mountain in the distance gleaming in the day. Few clouds were in the sky, and pegasi and birds flew overhead. “It’s a pretty day outside, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ginseng turned around to gauge her expression.

Tapioca wasn’t looking outside, though. She was eyeing the bathroom door. Ginseng peered over to it as well.

It was nothing special from what he could see. The darkness inside didn’t allow him to see too much, though.

Regardless, he strode over to it anyways to look inside. Did she see something, perhaps?

Ginseng opened the door even more and turned on the lights.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Hmm.

Ginseng turned off the lights and closed the door. He sighed quietly again. Maybe she just wasn’t fit to talk anymore.

Thump.

Ginseng whirled around.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Tapioca was standing in front of the window. They said she hadn’t moved for days!

“Tapioca?”

The thin filly ignored him. She instead brushed a hoof on the plant Ginseng had watered earlier.

Ginseng slowly walked up beside her, careful not to startle her. “Tapioca? Is something wrong?” He hoped watering her plant didn’t upset her, or opening the blinds made her nervous.

“You can’t talk without the lights on.”

Ginseng almost didn’t believe she was actually speaking. No one had gotten her to utter a word since they recovered her. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

“He likes the dark.”

Ginseng turned around again and scanned the room. Between the lights overhead, and the sunlight pouring in, there was hardly a shadow in the room.

But he had more pressing matters. “He? Who likes the dark, Tapioca?”

“The red thing.”

“The red thing? What—I mean, who is that?”

“He’s the one who sucked Mocha up.”

Ginseng recognized that name. That was Tapioca’s brother’s name. His seemingly dried out husk was found at the scene along with… other disturbing things. Ginseng couldn’t let this go, not when no one had any idea what happened to him. “He sucked up Mocha? What do you mean?”

Tapioca didn’t answer at first. She had started letting the plant very gently with her left hoof. “I don’t know.”

Well, it was something, at least. “Did you see it happen? Can you describe who you saw?”

Tapioca had let her head fall slightly to the left. Her eyes never left the same spot on the window. “He said he’s coming back.”

Ginseng’s heart was beating fast. “Coming back where? Surely not here?”

Tapioca shook her head slightly. “Home.”

She started back towards the bed.

Home. Clearly that meant her home. He knew the address by heart now after hearing it so much in the headlines. Why would whoever did it go back there? The guards were said to be watching the area surrounding like hawks.

It was still a lead. Though, Ginseng wasn’t sure how much of one, since it was said the house was already picked apart thoroughly. But, it wouldn’t hurt to look again. He would have to go high up the chain to get permission though.

Ginseng turned back to Tapioca. She was getting back in bed and readjusting her blanket over her. He slowly walked over to her. “Can you tell me when he’s coming back?”

Tapioca didn’t say anything. She settled back into a rough sitting position before grabbing the water next to her. She took a long sip before answering. “One hundred and twelve hours.” She was staring at something on the wall.

Ginseng looked over to where she was locked on. It was the wall clock. It had just turned one o’clock in the afternoon. Her answer was oddly specific, and coupling it with the perfect timing of the hour change, it concerned him. He brushed a claw through the feathers on his head. “Do you know why?” It was a long shot.

“He’s not finished.” Tapioca had already returned the water and was laying down again. “Can you tell them to leave the lights on? He can’t hear in the light.”

Ginseng knew he wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. “Sure, I can tell them.” He picked up his belongings and hat near the door and opened it. He looked behind him. “Sleep well, Tapioca. I promise, we’ll catch whoever did this.”

He wasn’t sure, but he swore he heard her mumble something. Whatever she said, it was unintelligible. He closed the door quietly.

“We heard you talking in there.”

Ginseng looked over towards the voice. One of the nurses was looking at him solemnly. “Yes, well, I was sent out here for answers. It seems like I’ve found more than anyone so far. I have little time. I may be back in,” he checked his watch. “Roughly one hundred and twenty four hours.” He bowed his head to hear and walked past her.

The nurse looked confused. She turned to the patient's room.

“Oh, by the way.” The nurse snapped back to the corner of the hall, where Ginseng’s head was peeking out. “She wants the lights to be left on. Don’t ask why.”

The nurse nodded. Ginseng’s head disappeared. Once he was gone, she snuck a look into the room.

Tapioca was staring intently at the clock from beneath the blankets.