Chapter 1 - Happy Birthday

I remember the smell of strawberries.

Not the cheap artificial kind you find in vending machine candies — but the thick, juicy sweetness of fresh ones, folded into soft cream and sponge, hand-picked by Yukari from that little bakery near Kichijōji. That cake was our daughter’s favorite. Fifteen candles for fifteen years — no, that can’t be right. That’s how long I’ve been here. Sorry. Seven. She turned seven that day.

Aiko.

Even saying her name now is like dragging a nail across the chalkboard inside my skull. Every syllable cuts deeper. It was her birthday. My little sunshine.

We had balloons — pink and white, her choice — and Yukari had decorated the living room with ridiculous little cartoon animals because Aiko was still in that phase. She had this annoying obsession with penguins wearing sunglasses. It made no sense. But she laughed. Loud and pure. I think if God ever spoke through human mouths, it would sound like Aiko laughing.

I remember all of it.

I wish I didn’t.

---

Yukari teased me for being too serious, as always. I’d come home an hour early, took off the detective’s coat, and put on the apron — literally. Aiko made me wear the pink one with "No. 1 Papa" scrawled in glitter. I was supposed to flip pancakes shaped like hearts. She gave me a 3/10.

We played Uno. I cheated. She caught me. Laughed again.

I hugged her so hard she squeaked.

"You're squishing me, Daddy!"

But it was okay. It was perfect.

And then the sun died.

---

21:12

I remember the clock because I always notice the small things. It’s a curse.

The lock clicked.

Not the usual metallic rattle — but too smooth, too practiced.

Yukari was in the kitchen cleaning. Aiko was curled up on the couch watching something dumb and colorful. I stood up. My instincts were already screaming. You don’t work homicide for eleven years and ignore the whispers in your blood.

There were three of them.

The first man came in like mist. Silent. Black boots, rubber soles — tactical. His gloves were military-grade, maybe Israeli. No fingerprints, no sweat. I noticed the stitching on the back of his hand — red thread. Custom made. Expensive.

The second was larger. He hesitated at the door.

That’s when I knew — he wasn’t a killer. Not yet. His legs twitched. He didn’t meet my eyes.

The third moved behind me like a shadow. I barely registered the whisper of cloth before the pain bloomed in my neck.

Chloroform.

But not just that. Something else. Sweet. Synthetic. A hybrid?

I reached for the knife on the kitchen counter, but the second man — the hesitant one — tackled me down. We crashed into the table. The cake smeared across my shoulder. I remember the sick irony. Blood and frosting. Red and white.

Yukari screamed.

I saw Aiko’s eyes — wide, confused.

The room became a blender of motion. One man grabbed Aiko. The other shoved Yukari to the ground. I don’t remember which.

I fought. God, I fought. Elbows. Knees. My own teeth, if I could.

But I was drowning. The drug crept in. My muscles stopped listening. My vision swam.

And then... I saw it.

A pendant.

Crimson. Teardrop-shaped. Hanging from the second man’s neck.

He’d bent down to cuff my wrist, and it slipped from under his shirt. For a second — just a second — I saw the strange carving etched into its surface.

A snake, coiled inside a circle.

I don’t know why, but I felt like it was watching me.

---

"It’s done."

The voice didn’t come from them.

It came from me.

I heard it, clear as sunlight — my voice, speaking those words in a tone I’ve never used.

It wasn’t the drug. It wasn’t the panic.

It was me.

Like I was already two people. Like some part of me had planned this.

"No…"

My lips moved, but I couldn’t even hear myself anymore. The world dimmed. Like someone was turning the brightness dial in my brain, slowly and mercilessly.

I saw Yukari’s mouth move, but it was just shapes.

I saw Aiko struggle, arms flailing as they lifted her.

Static flooded my ears. A television losing signal.

Then came the snap — a bone? A chair? My sanity?

And then… nothing.

---

Fifteen years have passed.

Fifteen years since that night. Since my last birthday with Aiko. Since the cake. Since the pendant.

I tell myself I’ll forget. But I never do. I’m still there, every time I close my eyes.

I don’t know who they were.

I don’t know why they took my family.

I don’t even know if they’re alive.

But I know that pendant. I see it every night in my dreams.

It gleams.

And it whispers.

“It’s done.”

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