Chapter 26 - " Mizuki's Memories"

Memory One: The Girl Who Wasn’t Loved

“Why were you even born?”

Her mother’s voice echoed through the dim apartment.

Mizuki sat on the kitchen floor, clutching a cracked mug. She was eight. The air smelled of cigarettes and spilled beer.

> “You look just like him,” her mother spat.

“Mama—”

“Don’t call me that!”

The woman slammed the door. Mizuki flinched, then quietly gathered the broken pieces of the mug — the only one that still had a painted wisteria pattern on it.

Outside, the rain fell hard, and Mizuki whispered to no one:

> “If I become good, she’ll love me.”

But she never did.

---

Memory Two: The Man in the Hallway

He came when her mother wasn’t looking.

At first, he smiled — too kindly, too softly. Then the smiles became touches. The touches became something worse.

> “You’re pretty,” he said once, breath sour with alcohol. “Just like your mother used to be.”

Mizuki froze, trembling, trapped between fear and confusion.

When he kissed her — rough, unwanted — something inside her shattered.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t cry.

She just went still.

---

Memory Three: The Blood and the Kitchen Knife

It happened on a rainy night. The television was still on.

He reached for her again, saying her name like a prayer.

Mizuki’s hand found the kitchen knife.

There wasn’t much sound — only a gasp, and then the smell of iron and spilled soup.

When her mother found them, she didn’t ask what happened.

She slapped Mizuki across the face and screamed until her throat broke.

> “You killed him! You killed him because you wanted this family to fall apart!”

The police called it self-defense.

The neighbors called it madness.

Her mother called it shame.

---

Memory Four: The Doctor’s Office

The psychologist’s office smelled like antiseptic and mint tea.

Mizuki sat in the corner, knees drawn to her chest.

The doctor smiled gently.

> “Do you still have dreams about it?”

“No.”

“What do you dream about then?”

“Someone who’ll never leave me.”

The doctor paused.

> “And who is that?”

“I don’t know yet,” Mizuki said. “But I’ll find her.”

---

Memory Five: Saint Elora Academy

The sea wind, the laughter of girls, the scent of spring.

She transferred that year — her mother wanted her gone, far away from the whispers.

Mizuki promised she would start over, be normal, smile like the others.

Then she met Himari Akane.

A smile too bright. Eyes too warm. A voice that didn’t sound like the rest.

When Himari said, “You can trust me,” Mizuki felt the world stop.

She thought, This is it. The one who won’t leave.

And when Himari smiled back — gently, kindly — Mizuki mistook that warmth for salvation.

Love, she thought, would heal her.

But love only mirrored the same wound — the same hunger for control, for belonging, for pain.