CHAPTER :17.4 The Promise that Bound Our Souls

Haru had already returned home. Veronica sat quietly at her desk, completing her homework. The room was heavier than it normally was, the air suffocating her. She opened her notebook—when suddenly, she thought it.

A gentle warmth caressed her cheek.

She spun about. Elizabeth stood there.

Her lips still rested where they had just kissed Veronica's skin, crimson eyes softly glowing in the dim light.

"E-Eliz…" Veronica stuttered.

Elizabeth just smiled, swishing back a lock of hair behind Veronica's ear. Her voice was husky, close to being tender.

"Do you remember… then?"

The words cut deep. Veronica stilled. Then.

Her chest constricted as memories flashed—the starting point of everything.

Veronica was just five years old.

"Mama, look! A doll!" she shrieked, pointing toward the trash bin.

A figure half-hidden amidst the rubbish: a doll with broken glass eyes and matted green hair.

"Oh, sweetheart… It's dirty. Someone threw it away," said her mother softly.

But Veronica's big eyes stared with excitement. She pulled at her mother's hand.

"Please, Mama! Can I keep it? Please, please?"

Her mother sighed, then grinned. "Alright, darling. If it makes you happy."

Veronica squealed and hugged the doll hard. For an instant, she could have sworn its green eyes glistened in the sun.

At home, her mother filled the bathtub with a warm bath. She stripped off Veronica's clothes, putting her into the tub, and put the doll down beside her.

"Let's wash you both," her mother said softly.

"Mama, wash her clothes too! She doesn't like being dirty," Veronica demanded.

Her mother laughed and gently removed the doll's tiny dress. Naked porcelain glowed faintly in the steam, oddly human under the light.

Veronica put her forehead to the doll's.

Don't worry," she whispered. "Mama will pretty you up again. You'll be mine forever."

Her mother smiled fondly. "Chatting with your new friend already?"

"Yes, Mama," Veronica said gravely. "She said she doesn't want to be alone anymore."

Her mother hesitated, looking at the doll. For a moment, it almost appeared to regard her daughter.

That evening, after the bath, her mother put Veronica to bed with the doll.

"Mama, won't you sleep with me?" Veronica said softly.

Her mother kissed Veronica's forehead. "Not tonight, sweetie. Your doll will keep you safe now. She'll be right here beside you."

"Mama… I'm afraid," Veronica whispered.

"Don't be. She's with you." Her mother switched off the light and closed the door.

The room grew quiet. Veronica held the doll close under the blankets.

Then, arms wrapped around her unexpectedly.

"Mama?" she whispered, turning her head.

But it was not her mother. A girl lay next to her, her eyes an unnatural green.

"Who are you?" Veronica whispered.

"I'm your doll," the girl whispered. "I'll keep you safe. But don't tell Mama or Papa about me. Promise."

Veronica hesitated, then nodded. "Okay… I promise." She hugged the girl tightly.

The girl's voice was soft, almost calming. "I'll always protect you."

The girl was gone when morning came. Only the doll remained beside her, its glass eyes wide. Veronica clutched it tight.

"Mama!" she shouted, racing down the stairs. "Will Haru-kun be at school today?"

Her mother smiled warmly. "Yes, sweetie. It's your first day of school, and he'll be there."

"Mama, may I bring my doll? She'll protect me," Veronica asked.

Her mother hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, sweetheart.”

At school, every eye turned to Veronica as she entered, clutching the doll. But Haru wasn’t there.

“Sensei! Where is Haru? He promised to be here!” she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

The teacher knelt, trying to calm her. “He’ll come later. Sit here for now.”

But the other children giggled.

“Baby, baby! You’re a baby for bringing a doll!”

Veronica’s face burned red. “I-I’m not a baby!”

One girl snatched at the doll. “You are!” She yanked hard, and with a sickening crack, the doll’s arm broke.

“Nooo!” Veronica cried. She clutched the broken doll to her chest, sobbing.

In the corner, she saw something chilling.

The girl, the same one from last night, stood there, watching. One of her arms hung limp and bleeding, exactly where the doll’s arm had broken.

Anger consumed Veronica. She pushed the bully with such force that the girl fell and hit the floor, blood running from her nose. The class erupted in pandemonium.

The teacher came rushing back into the room. "What happened?!"

"She pushed her!" a child yelled.

Veronica continued to sob, clutching her doll. "She broke her… she broke my doll's arm!"

The instructor frowned but remained silent. Later, during home economics, the teacher quietly reattached the arm of the doll. But as she did, she saw something strange—the cloth healed itself, like living tissue.

Her hands shook. She said nothing.

And from that day forward, Veronica was never truly alone. The memory deepened, stretching through the years like threads Veronica had never dared untangle.

On her sixth birthday, Veronica sat on the floor of her bedroom, her doll on her lap. Balloons remained stuck to the walls, ribbons hanging like strings of light.

"Why are you with me all the time?" Veronica whispered, smoothing the doll's knotted green hair.

The girl reappeared, sitting next to her. Her voice was quiet, almost conspiratorial.

"You'll know one day. Not now."

On her seventh birthday, the connection became more bizarre.

Veronica blew out her candles, silently wishing. Later, holding the doll, she whispered, "Why do I feel you inside me?"

The girl's eyes sparkled.

"Because I'm connected to you. Through your doll. That's how we're together.

On Veronica's eighth birthday, she got ill. Fever scorched her body, and she thrashed in bed. The doll never left her bedside. Once, when her vision blurred, she saw the girl on her knees beside her bed.

"I won't go away," she whispered. "Though your body is weak, I won't leave."

And so her word was true, Veronica never felt deserted even during the fogginess of fever.

On her ninth birthday, Haru was present.

The two of them sat in the garden, and laughter filled the air. Haru smiled and gave her a little ribbon as a gift.

"Veronica… when we grow up, I'll marry you. Promise."

Her face became red, but she enthusiastically nodded. "Then I'll marry you too!"

In the corner, the girl stood silently, regarding with unreadable eyes. She did not speak, but her body was heavy, a shadow over the party.

On her tenth birthday, Veronica attempted again.

"Please," she pleaded, hugging the doll tightly. "Tell me your name. Tell me how you are connected to me."

But the girl just smiled weakly, shaking her head.

"Not yet. You'll understand when the time is right. Not before your twelfth birthday.

Veronica scowled, annoyed, but remained silent as promised.

When the girl was eleven, her promise intensified.

"How are we connected?" Veronica whispered.

The girl's eyes shone, just as they had shone on the night Veronica discovered her.

"Remember when our eyes met? That was it. Our souls are connected. Through that, I can give you some of my strength."

"But how?" Veronica insisted.

The girl only shook her head again. “Someday you’ll understand. For now, know—I will always protect you.”

Finally, on her twelfth birthday, everything changed.

That year, another presence entered her life—Elizabeth’s brother. His arrival triggered something dormant inside the doll. As Veronica held it, a surge of warmth coursed through her chest. The girl appeared before her again, clearer than ever, her form solid, her eyes bright with power.

And for the first time… Veronica comprehended.

The girl—Elizabeth—had not merely given her her soul but had already started sharing shreds of her strength. Theirs was not a bond of love. It was ownership, safeguarding, and inescapability.

                                                         Back to the Present

The recollections broke into shards like a piece of glass. Veronica opened her eyes, and she found herself back in her bedroom, Elizabeth's hand still grazing her cheek.

Her red eyes gleamed dimly as she whispered, "You see now, don't you? Ever since you picked up that doll… You were mine. Always mine."

Veronica's chest constricted. Her heart thundered, suspended between terror and something else—something she could not name.

"Elizabeth…" she breathed, unable to avert her gaze.

The girl's smile grew wider, both beautiful and frightening.

“Our story began long before you understood it. And it’s far from over.”