The Name That Must Not Be Spoken

Aika spent the next three days in a state of heightened tension, flinching at every sound, watching every shadow. She carefully avoided the places where Himeko might be waiting. But avoidance had its limits in a school setting, and eventually, she ran into Himeko by the lockers on a quiet Thursday afternoon.

Aika swallowed hard. "What did you do to Mei ?"

"Mei ?" Himeko tilted her head slightly, a look of genuine confusion on her face.

"The girl on the carousel! The one who was crying! You took her into the haunted house and she… she… she’s — "

Himeko’s face lit up with sudden recognition, as if remembering something she’d forgotten. "Ah, the heartbroken girl. I helped her."

"Helped her ?" Aika’s voice rose, cracking with panic. "She’s dead! They found her in the park without her head!"

Himeko stepped closer, her footsteps silent against the polished floor. "Death is just a word. It’s not an end. It’s a lie the living tell themselves so they don’t have to face the beauty of what comes after."

That night, Aika couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in bed, clutching Himeko’s red scarf against her chest despite her fear. Around three in the morning, unable to stand it any longer, she got dressed and slipped quietly out of the house.

Yume Park lay deserted beneath the pale glow of a waxing moon. Aika entered the now-familiar, decayed version of the park. Her footsteps echoed strangely along the cracked walkways.

She found Himeko sitting on the bench facing the haunted house, as though she had been waiting all along. In the moonlight, her beauty looked almost supernatural — too flawless, too perfect to belong to anything human.

"What do you want from me ?" Aika asked, her voice trembling in the cold night air.

"Come," Himeko said simply, rising to her feet. "I want to show you my secret garden."

They entered the haunted house through a side passage Aika had never noticed before. The rails stretched ahead into darkness, but their path was lit by a strange phosphorescence that seemed to emanate from the tunnel walls themselves.

As they walked deeper, Aika began to make out shelves carved into the stone, like in an ancient catacomb. And on these shelves...

Dozens of exquisitely ornate boxes, each unique, each beautiful in its own way. Some were inlaid with mother-of-pearl, others carved with delicate floral motifs. A few were studded with gemstones that caught the faint light and refracted it in dazzling colors.

"My collection," Himeko murmured, her voice filled with infinite tenderness.

She stepped up to one of the boxes and opened it gently. Inside, perfectly preserved, was the head of a young girl. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved into a serene smile, as if she were simply sleeping. Her skin was pale like porcelain, with an almost luminous sheen, yet it carried the softness of something still alive.

"Her name is Yuki," Himeko said, stroking the girl's cheek with a maternal caress. "Her fiancé left her three days before their wedding. She wanted to die when I met her."

The eyes of the head suddenly opened and stared at Aika with an expression of pure bliss. Her lips moved silently, forming the words: "Thank you… thank you…"

Aika stumbled back in horror, but Himeko continued speaking as if everything were perfectly normal.

"And this is Akane. Abused by her father, cast aside by her friends. Over here is Tomoko. Her first love mocked her confession in front of the entire school."

One by one, Himeko opened more boxes. Each head was distinct, yet all shared the same expression of utter peace, a serenity that surpassed all understanding. And each one, when they opened their eyes, looked at Himeko with boundless adoration.

"Human love is flawed," Himeko said softly. "It betrays. It wounds. It fades with time. But my love… my love is eternal. I love them all, every one of them, forever. No more betrayal, no more bodies to feel pain, no more hearts left to break."

Aika looked around, overwhelmed. The heads in their jeweled coffins seemed… happy. Their smiles weren’t forced or frozen. They radiated a strange kind of relief, as if they'd finally been freed from a burden too heavy to carry.

"They look..." Aika whispered, not daring to finish the thought.

"Happy ?" Himeko completed with a gentle smile. "They are. No more bodies to suffer. No more tormented souls. Just pure, eternal love — the kind I give them without end."

She turned to Aika, her eyes gleaming with an affection that no longer felt human — more like a hunger disguised as love.

With deliberate slowness, she untied the red scarf she always wore around her neck. Beneath it was a thin, scarlet line encircling her throat — like an ancient wound that had never healed.

"You’re a Dul — " Aika began, but her voice caught.

"Shhh," Himeko hushed gently, pressing a finger to Aika’s trembling lips.

"You could stay with me. Forever. Join my family. No more betrayal. No more tears. Just you and me, bound together in a love that will never end."

Aika backed toward the tunnel exit, her legs shaking beneath her. Horror and fascination wrestled within her. Part of her was repulsed by what she’d seen, but another part — the part that still ached from her boyfriend’s betrayal, the part that felt so achingly alone — found something disturbingly seductive in Himeko’s words.

"I… I can’t…" she whispered, her voice cracking with fear and something else she couldn’t name.

Himeko made no move to stop her. Her smile remained soft, understanding.

"I know," she said simply. "It’s not your time yet. But I’ll be here when you’re ready, Aika. I’ll always be here."

Aika ran, fleeing the tunnel and its terrifying secrets. But the images followed her: those peaceful faces, those blissful smiles, that promise of a love untouched by pain or decay.

And somewhere deep inside her, despite everything, a small voice whispered that maybe — just maybe — Himeko was right.
That perhaps perfect love could only be found in total surrender, of body and soul.