Misunderstanding

The trio stood in the small room, still reeling from Yume’s sharp question. The air was thick with confusion. Asahi and Haruto exchanged uncertain glances. Yume’s reaction had been unexpected. But there was a hint of hear in her gaze. She had almost recognized them.

Haruto stepped forward and said with a calm voice. “We’re not here to hurt you or anything. We’re not with Yukawa. We’re just travelers.”

Yume stood still. She studied them for a long moment, her eyes lingering on Haruto. It was clear she was weighing her options, searching for any signs of deception. Her gaze flicked to Ren, who stood silently.

Ren’s presence seemed to comfort her a little. But his silent and calculating nature was like a presence of its own. Yume’s attention finally softened.

Haruto didn’t push, sensing she needing space to process. It was then that Ren made a subtle movement, stepping closer. He didn’t speak, didn’t gesture in any way. Just a simple act of presence.

Yume’s eyes lingered on him for a long moment before she let out a breath. “You… you really aren’t with Yukawa?”

Haruto shook his head slowly with a soft voice. “No, we’re not. We’ve been running from him. We just need to get to a place where we can stop.”

Yume hesitated and in that moment, Haruto saw a shift in her eyes. Something flickered.

Ren, still silent, stepped back slightly. He let out a small breath as his expression softened. Something seemed to settle in Yume’s mind. She stepped back toward the kitchen, pushing the tea tray to the side and clearing the table.

“Alright,” Yume said finally with a cautious voice. “Sit here. I’ll be right back. Then maybe, we can talk.”

Just as she began to turn, a loud thud echoed though the house. It was a series of heavy footsteps. Then came the voice of several people rushing towards the door. Haruto could hear the rising shouts of the villagers and the anger in their voices.

Without warning, the door slammed open and a group of villagers poured into the room. The men were broad-shouldered, their eyes filled with distrust. Some held makeshift weapons. They stood in a semi-circle, trying to cut off any potential escape.

“What’s this?” one of them barked. “Who are they? We won’t let you take her away!”

Yume’s body tensed as she stepped between the trio and the villagers and raised her hands. “Wait. Please. Everyone. Calm down. They are not from Yukawa’s camp. They’re not here to take me.”

“They’re lying!” a woman’s voice shouted from the back. “They’ve come for you! They are taking advantage of your naiveness, Yume!”

The group muttered in agreement. Their eyes narrowed as their suspicion turned into hostility. Haruto could feel the rising pressure in the air. He could sense the villagers’ fear and protectiveness they felt towards Yume. She was a piece of their collective family.

However, a gruff-looking man muttered to his neighbor: “Serves her right. Always thought her past would catch up to her.”

Yume held up both of her hands. “Please, listen. They’re not with him, “ she said. “I know them, and they’re not here to hurt me.”

“You… you’ve brought trouble to our door.”

A woman with tightly crossed arms said in a low but sharp voice. “Karma’s a slow beast. This is the result of her choices, mark my words.”

“Please – “ Asahi started, but was cut off as the villagers started shouting again.

Haruto stepped forward. “Listen to me. We aren’t with Yukawa. We don’t wan to hurt her. We just need help.”

But the villagers weren’t listening. They were determined.

Then, a woman of quite an old age stepped forward.

“Enough.” The word was quiet but carried authority. “They won’t take her. I’ve already spoken with them.”

The villagers stood frozen for a moment as they backed off just enough to give her space.

“I know you’re scared and concerned for her,” she said quietly. “But they’re here for something else. For help.”

The villagers exchanged uneasy glances.

“Come,” she said. “We’ll talk.”

The villagers filed out of the room one-by-one with concerned faces, some still casting warm glances at Yume.

Once the room had settled down, the old woman approached them, introducing herself as Yume’s mother. She sat beside Yume as she spoke.

“So… I know you have a lot of questions. About Yume’s connection to Yukawa. The villagers’ overprotectiveness…”

Yume’s fingers trembled as she stirred her tea, her eyes lost in memories. “I used to be a scientist. A long time ago… I worked under a brilliant man. Director Naomi. He was… kind. He mentored me, trained me, and for a while, I thought maybe he loved me. But it wasn’t love, not the way I thought. He wanted me… to stay with him. To stay loyal to his work. But there was something else. Another scientist. He was different… he smelled like cherry vanilla, and used this strange cologne, Blue Vertigo. I fell in love with him and we got married. We had a daughter. But then…” Her voice faltered.

“One day… I found out he’d been seeing someone else. It broke me. I left him, took our daughter, and came here. That’s why I’ve been living here.”

Haruto, who had been listening intently, asked immediately. “And your daughter?”

Yume flinched slightly at the question, but only for a moment. “She’s gone for a few days… visiting her father.”

There was a slight hesitation in her words. Haruto’s suspicion grew. Something about her story didn’t sit right.

The conversation turned quiet after that. Yume got up and headed to the kitchen to prepare the dinner.

Haruto stood up slowly, stretching as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. Yume’s mother rose to her feet, smoothing her dress. “I’ll help Yume out. The dinner will be ready soon. Till then… please make yourselves comfortable.”

“Haruto,” Yume said, looking down from the kitchen. “If you need time to rest, feel free. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, though his voice was full of uncertainty.

After dinner, the house was quiet. Yume and her mother had retired to their respective rooms. Haruto stepped outside. Asahi and Ren had also fallen asleep. He needed a moment alone, to clear his mind.

But then he noticed something. A photograph, which was partially slipped underneath a table. He bent down to pick it up. His eyes scanned the faces in the picture. A small girl with a familiar face.

The picture was old, but the image was unmistakable.

His breath caught in his throat. “Emi…”