A Trials of Shadow

***

That day the rain never stopped…

The courtroom doors creaked closed behind them, sealing the silence inside. The walls felt too tall. The air too cold. A solemn crowd sat hushed, listening for what could never be unheard.

Lily sat at the witness bench, her hand tightly held by the man beside her — her fiancé. His knuckles were white, jaw tight. On her other side stood the woman in black, ever silent, watching everything, guarding her like shadow.

At the front, her father sat tall and grave, cane across his lap. His eyes never left the man in chains.

Across from them sat the accused.

Dressed in cleaner prison garb, beard untrimmed, long hair pulled loosely back, the prisoner slouched in his chair as if bored — as if this courtroom was just another game.

The judge lifted the case file with a deep sigh.

“The State v. ___________ — on the charges of unlawful detainment, repeated sexual assault, physical injury, and psychological trauma inflicted upon the victim, Ms. Lily M—…”

He glanced at Lily, then back at the file, voice steady.

“The court will now hear the defendant’s plea and final statement.”

The courtroom stirred faintly as the prisoner leaned forward.

And then… he smiled.

“Final statement, huh?” he said, voice low and grinning.

“Well, I’m guilty. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“Every count? Yeah. I did it. More than once.”

“Why? Because I wanted to.”

Lily flinched. Her fiancé pulled her closer. The woman in black stiffened but remained quiet.

“You think this is justice?” the prisoner continued, voice rising slightly.

“You think some courtroom can wash what happened between us?”

“We both enjoyed it.”

He looked straight at Lily.

“She screamed, yeah… but not always in pain.”

The judge slammed his gavel.

“Enough! These statements are irrelevant, inappropriate, and intentionally harmful to the victim.”

“You are ordered to cease or be removed from the court.”

The prisoner ignored him completely.

“You don’t get it, do you, Judge?”

“This wasn’t just a crime. This was art. Control. Intimacy. Obsession.”

“She felt it. I know she did.”

Lily’s breathing grew shallow. Her eyes were glassy, frozen wide.

“I carved myself into her soul,” the prisoner muttered.

“And no law, no verdict, not even death will take that away.”

The judge stood.

“You are now held in contempt.”

“Let the record show the defendant displays no remorse, no acknowledgment of the gravity of his actions.”

“Mr. _______, you are guilty on all charges.

By the full authority of the court, and in accordance with penal code section 422-A, you are hereby sentenced to death.”

But the prisoner only laughed.

A dry, echoing, insane laugh that filled every shadow in the room.

“Good!” he shouted.

“Let it come. I’ll go smiling!”

Suddenly, Lily’s father stood, voice calm but commanding.

“That’s enough.”

The courtroom went dead quiet.

Even the prisoner paused.

He looked at the old man… and smirked.

But his smile faded slightly when his eyes shifted to the unnamed woman — still standing beside Lily, arms crossed.

She hadn’t spoken a single word the entire trial. But now… she looked at him.

Not with fear.

Not with hatred.

But with sadness.

A deep, heavy sadness… like she knew something no one else in the room understood.

And for the first time — just for a moment —

the prisoner’s grin faltered.

***

The door of the courthouse closed behind them with a deep, final click.

Lily didn’t speak. Her body moved only because someone gently guided her forward — her fiancé on one side, the woman on the other, silent and steady.

The rain had begun again, soft this time. A thin mist falling from a gray, swollen sky. It touched her skin like memory — light, cold, and unshakable.

The black car was waiting.

The driver stepped out and opened the door without a word. Lily’s father was already inside, staring blankly out the window as if he hadn’t spoken since the judge’s gavel fell.

Lily slipped into the seat beside him. The woman followed, sitting opposite, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded tightly. Her face held no expression — but her eyes never left Lily.

The door shut.

Silence.

The car pulled forward.

No one spoke.

The world outside blurred behind raindrops on the window, buildings turning to trees, concrete melting into pale green fields. But Lily didn’t look out. She stared ahead — at nothing. Not blinking. Not breathing deeply.

She could still hear him.

His voice. His laughter.

Those horrible words.

We both enjoyed it.

Her fingers twitched.

Her fiancé gently touched her hand again, but she didn’t squeeze back.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The car moved, but she stayed frozen.

Then, from the opposite seat, the woman finally spoke — her voice low and firm.

“He has no power over you now.”

Lily blinked. Once.

“His words are poison,” the woman said. “And poison only lasts if you swallow it.”

Still, Lily didn’t answer.

The car slowed as they approached the estate gates. The iron doors creaked open.

Before they reached the manor, her father finally spoke — his voice rough from long silence.

“You never have to face that man again.”

He didn’t look at her. He didn’t need to.

Lily finally turned her head — just slightly — and whispered:

“He smiled.”

Her voice cracked.

“He smiled… like he still won.”

The woman leaned forward, her gaze darkening.

“Let him smile,” she said. “Let him laugh. Let him rot smiling in his cell.

Because his story ends there.”

She reached out and took Lily’s hand.

“But yours doesn’t.”

The rain began to fall harder, drumming softly against the glass as the car pulled up to the front steps of the estate.

Someone opened the door.

Lily didn’t move.

Then — slowly — she nodded.

Just once.

***

That day had passed.

But the weight of it still lingered..

The world was dim when Lily opened her eyes.

Gray light filtered through the tall curtains, soft and weightless, like fog lingering after rain. Her body felt sunken into the mattress, her limbs stiff and cold as if she'd slept for days and not a single hour.

She didn’t sit up.

She didn’t speak.

The silence was the kind that didn’t feel empty—it felt held.

Heavy. Like something was still watching, waiting in the corners of the room.

Her fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the blanket. That was all she could move at first.

Then the memory came, not in words, but in feeling—sharp, ugly, exposed.

The interview.

The lights.

The voices.

The host’s piercing tone like a knife under her skin, dragging up words Lily didn’t even know she had buried. The confusion. The crack in her breath. The tears she hadn’t meant to cry in front of all those cameras.

The press had seen her crumble.

She turned her face into the pillow, trying to breathe.

It still felt like shame.

Like being torn open in front of the world.

Knock knock.

A pause.

Then the door opened slowly.

The woman entered without waiting for permission—but her steps were slow, cautious, filled with quiet concern. She was dressed simply, her dark blouse slightly creased, her short hair tucked behind one ear, still damp from the early morning air.

Lily didn’t turn to look.

She didn’t need to.

The woman came closer, walked to the side of the bed, and sat carefully at the edge, her hands resting on her knees.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Only the soft ticking of the clock on the dresser broke the stillness.

Then, in a low voice:

“You’re awake.”

Lily blinked slowly, keeping her eyes on the ceiling. “Barely.”

“How are you feeling?”

A bitter breath escaped her lips.

“Like I never want to be seen again.”

The woman didn’t react with pity. Just presence.

“You don’t have to be. Not today.”

Lily closed her eyes. Her voice cracked.

“They ambushed me. I didn’t expect those questions. I didn’t even understand what I was feeling until I—until I said it out loud.”

The woman nodded gently. “That was never your fault. The host was told not to cross that line. She did it anyway.”

“Because she wanted to ruin me.”

Lily turned toward her finally, face pale and eyes still swollen from sleep. “And now the world saw me break.”

“No,” the woman said firmly. “They saw you survive.”

She reached out, brushing Lily’s hair back behind her ear.

“You were cornered. You were overwhelmed. And still… you held on.”

Lily swallowed hard, emotion rising again.

“Everyone was staring. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was so embarrassed, I—”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” the woman interrupted softly. “You should be angry. And I’m angry for you.”

Lily looked at her, really looked — for a long moment. “Did you tell them?”

The woman nodded.

“Your father knows. Your fiancé too. I told them exactly what happened. They’re furious. The press has already pulled the replays. The studio is in damage control. That woman won’t be hosting anything again.”

Lily’s lips parted in disbelief. “They… believed me?”

“Of course they did. You didn’t imagine it, Lily.”

Lily looked away again. Her throat was tight.

“Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost pieces of myself. Like I’m walking around half-finished.”

“But it doesn’t mean it’s gone forever.”

She leaned forward, voice quieter now.

“You were never weak Lily.”

That was the moment Lily started crying again.

Not the broken kind like before.

Just quiet.

Tears slipped down the side of her face as she lay still in her bed. She didn’t even try to stop them.

The woman didn’t speak. She just stayed, silent and steady beside her.

After a long time, Lily whispered:

“Will it always feel like this?”

“No,” the woman answered. “But healing doesn’t rush. You’ll have good days. Bad days. Days where the quiet hurts. Days where you’ll laugh and wonder why you ever forgot how.”

“And you’ll be there?” Lily asked, small, almost childish.

“Always.”

***

"Thank you for waiting! I'm currently updating my other story, Alfiria Saga, but Lily's story continues every [Monday/Tuesday/etc].I'm planning to publish 2 big chapters this week, I'm really thankful for the 2k views, I will try my best to write and build this story. I'm hoping you guys will read it until the end.

- GomiSekai🥲