Chapter Three

She tilted her head slightly, eyes fixed on a framed photograph hanging on the wall behind him.

“Do you… also have a mom and a younger sister?” she asked quietly, still observing the picture, curiosity mixing with something deeper in her voice—something like longing.

Mochida followed her gaze to the photo on the wall and smiled—softly, sadly—as a shadow passed behind his eyes.

“No,” he said gently.

“The woman in the picture is my wife, Hana. And the little girl beside her… that’s my daughter, Sakura.”

Akane’s crimson eyes widened with surprise, blinking in disbelief. He looked so young—it was hard to imagine him as a father, and even harder to picture the elegant woman in the photo, who appeared a few years older than him, as his wife.

“Wow, really?” she asked, her voice laced with innocent curiosity.

“Where are they?”

Mochida removed his glasses, wiping at the tears quietly building in his eyes. A deep breath trembled from his chest as he slid the glasses back on.

“They’re not here anymore,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They… they passed away in an accident. It happened when they went out shopping. I… I was at work during those hours.”

Akane let out a quiet, sorrowful hum before speaking, her voice as soft as a sigh, “So that’s why your eyes have lost their shine… because you died on the inside.”

Mochida blinked, startled by the unexpected truth laid so bare before him. Her words struck deeper than he anticipated.

“You can tell?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“How? Is it… because you’re different?”

But Akane shook her head slowly, her expression calm yet filled with a sadness far older than her years. “No,” she said. “It’s not because I’m different. I don’t know if you’ve noticed… or if my strange eye color has hidden it well, but I… I’ve lost the shine in my eyes, too. Just like you.”

A silence fell between them, heavy and fragile.

And as her words sank in, Mochida drew in a breath, one laced with quiet pain.

Akane was full of quiet revelations—each one heavier than the last. And though Mochida listened and believed her, a part of his heart refused to fully accept it. Because if what he suspected was true, he couldn’t fathom how this young girl was still standing, still breathing, still holding herself together.

His voice came hesitantly and uncertainly.

“What do you mean?”

Akane took a breath, shallow and trembling, before her voice—faint and wavering—carried the weight of her truth.

“Back in the alley… the body you stumbled over… it was my mom.”

Mochida gasped—his shock mingled with a deep, aching pain—but Akane wasn’t finished. Her voice remained steady, though a shadow trembled beneath every word.

“My mom died while protecting me,” she continued softly. “And in the other corner of the alley… my younger twin sister was lying there too. She was already gone. Her limbs—her head—had been torn apart by the enemies.”

She paused only briefly before clarifying, her eyes darkening.

“And by enemies… I mean the other hybrid chupacabras. The ones who managed to escape the government lab. They’d gone out searching for a new home, but some of them… they’d already lost themselves. Some to rage, others to fear, and a few… a few just had their minds broken from the failed experiments.”

She inhaled shakily and kept going, her tone matter-of-fact, yet bleeding with sorrow.

“One of the government officials had sent a team to confirm whether the failed samples had been eliminated. They thought I was dead, too. I stopped breathing and pretended to be a corpse. That’s the only reason I survived. They had just left… not even ten minutes before you arrived.”

Her eyes lowered, her voice quieter.

“They left to get the cleanup team to dispose of the bodies—and to hunt the rest of the escaped hybrids.”

Mochida’s chest tightened as if her every word was a stone pressed against his ribs. He struggled to breathe beneath the weight of it—the sheer horror of what she had lived through, what she had seen. And yet, this was only a sliver, a glimpse, of the monstrous world hidden behind the veil of normalcy.

He reached for the nearest glass, his hand trembling, and drank water in small gulps, trying to steady himself, to keep his heart from shattering.

Then, after a brief silence, he sniffled and asked in a broken voice, “Akane… what about your father?”

Akane had long since shut off a part of her emotions—an involuntary defense forged by the abrupt and unnatural changes her body had endured. The transformation had not only reshaped her physically, but it had also altered her mind. Her abilities, strange and evolving, seemed to have granted her a resilience no ordinary child could possess. It was that very resilience that allowed her to speak of horrors, of torture, of death, with a quiet strength—one that would have shattered anyone else.

She let out a long, weary sigh before answering softly, “My dad… he passed away during the experiment. It happened just a week ago.”

Mochida felt the weight of the night pressing down on them both, heavy and unrelenting. The pain was too fresh, too raw. And though he wanted to offer her more comfort, he knew they both needed rest. Tomorrow, they could rise again, wash away what little they could, share a warm breakfast, and decide where to go from here.

With that thought, he stood up and extended his hand toward her.

Akane looked at it for a moment, then reached out and took it without hesitation.

In that brief exchange, Mochida felt it clearly—this girl had no one else in the world now.

Just him.

And in some quiet, undeniable way, he realized… he only had her, too.

After dinner, Mochida gently suggested that Akane freshen up so they could head to bed soon—they had an early morning ahead, with several matters to take care of. While she made her way to the bathroom, he busied himself clearing the table, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen. Once everything was in order, he changed into his pajamas and quietly typed a message into the work group chat, informing them that he was feeling unwell and wouldn’t be able to make it in the next day. When the approval came through, he powered off his phone and made his way to the bedroom.

Earlier, he had shown Akane to a room of her own—simple, warm, and quiet—but the moment he lay down on his bed, the door creaked open.

He sat up, surprised, and found Akane standing in the doorway. Her expression was small, uncertain, her voice barely audible as she said, “I’m… I’m afraid to be alone. I want to sleep with you.”

Her words were soft, but they pierced straight through him.

Mochida’s heart ached at the sound of her fragile, wavering voice, and he immediately responded, his tone tender. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie… I should’ve noticed. Come on up here. You can sleep wherever you like.”

As soon as Akane climbed into bed, a bright smile lit up her face. Without hesitation, she turned and curled herself into Mochida’s side. He responded with a soft chuckle and affectionately ruffled her hair before reaching over to switch off the lamp. Darkness settled gently around them as he wrapped his arms around the small girl, pulling the fluffy duvet over them both. She was nestled securely in his hold, and together, they drifted into sleep, peaceful and undisturbed.

The night passed quietly, and the weight of their sorrows momentarily lifted. But sometime in the deep stillness of the early hours, Akane stirred. Her crimson eyes fluttered open, and she tilted her head to look up at Mochida’s sleeping face, calm, serene, unguarded.

A flicker of light sparked in her eyes.

She snuggled closer to him, nuzzling her cheek gently against his chest. A soft smile graced her lips as she closed her eyes again.

She was warm.

She felt safe.

She trusted him.

For the first time in her life… she felt at home.