Chapter Thirty-Six: The Journey Home

Mana Mizuhara walked quietly down the street veiled in darkness. It was already nearing ten o’clock at night—a deep hour when even the moon was absent and only scattered starlight and the glow of streetlamps lingered. The road home was dim.

Once, perhaps, Mana would have felt frightened and anxious in such gloom. Yet, for reasons she could not explain, the wooden pendant hanging at her chest pressed warmly against her skin, its subtle heat soothing her fears.

“…Why does it feel so warm?” The question rose in the girl’s heart.

“Could it really be as the shopkeeper said… possessing some inexplicable, mysterious power?” Mana entertained the idea, but quickly dismissed it, like a skeptic afraid of dragons, denying her own suspicion.

“…Oh, how could that possibly be.” Mana couldn’t help but laugh at herself.

At the same time, a far more plausible notion surfaced in her mind—

“According to the principle of ‘projection’ in psychology, one can transfer emotions toward a person onto related objects… I feel the pendant is warm—could it be because I have feelings for the shopkeeper…?”

Mana’s breath tightened suddenly. Though no one was near, her cheeks burned.

“Ah…”

As a young girl, Mana was hardly immune to emotion. She found handsome boys striking, was drawn to beauty and brilliance, and would daydream about enigmatic men from tales of the supernatural. Yet until today, she had never felt anything close to genuine affection for any male.

But now… Could it be that she finally liked someone?

The warmth from her chest flowed steadily, wrapping around her heart, and Mana’s pulse began to race. The shopkeeper’s mysterious, ethereal face flashed in her mind, and her palms grew damp with sweat.

“It’s not like that!” Mana nearly jumped, but immediately realized her outburst and clamped a hand over her mouth, hurrying to leave the street and head home. Just then, several voices, laughing and jeering, drifted to her ears.

——

Her heart clenched, Mana glanced about and found the source. In the faint light of a streetlamp, she saw several girls smoking by the wall stacked with garbage bins.

“That’s…” Mana covered her mouth, breath growing tight.

She noticed the girls wore the same uniform as hers—from Shingtai Academy.

——Bullying.

The words flooded her mind, and Mana understood at once.

Raised in a near-greenhouse environment, sheltered from hardship, Mana’s back broke out in a sweat. From elementary school to now, she had been mocked for her interests and personality but never faced anything as direct as school violence.

“What’s happening…” Mana swallowed. She recalled rumors about Shingtai Academy—like many high schools across Japan, it was said to have groups of delinquents who bullied classmates for amusement.

Until tonight, Mana had dismissed such rumors. If she didn’t see it, she pretended it didn’t exist—a habit as human as breathing.

But now…

——

“Should I run?” Mana trembled, feeling the urge to flee. It had nothing to do with her; she could avoid being caught up in it, act as though she hadn’t seen, and continue her peaceful life.

That was how she thought. Once, she might have turned away in fear.

However much she yearned for the strange worlds of mystery and the supernatural, reality was harsh.

Yet the warmth at her chest transformed into courage, supporting her spirit.

Without thinking, Mana gripped her phone and approached the group from behind.

——“Um…”

Her habitual phrase, spoken with trembling, addressed the delinquent girls:

“…What are you doing!”

Their laughter cut off abruptly. They turned as one, faces twisted in anger.

The leader had golden hair, wore knee-high boots, and her tanned skin looked deliberately sun-baked. She wore the Shingtai Academy uniform, but had cut it into a miniskirt.

The blonde delinquent fixed Mana with a sharp gaze, saw her uniform, and lifted her chin.

“You’re from Shingtai Academy too? Want to play hero?”

“Hey, what grade are you?”

“Looking for trouble?”

“We’ll smash you, send you to the bathhouse!”

The girls jeered and laughed, closing in on Mana with malicious intent.

“How interesting. I was bored of this disgusting birthmark girl, and now someone’s come looking for fun.”

“Want to save the birthmark girl? Let’s throw them both in the garbage bin, haha!”

As their laughter grew, Mana’s trembling increased. Yet the warmth of the pendant steadied her nerves. She raised her phone, showing them the screen with the police call interface.

“Hey—I’ve already called the police!”

Mana’s words stopped the girls in their tracks.

They exchanged glances; the blonde leader scowled, eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Mana’s phone. The police number was clearly displayed.

“Damn, what bad luck!” She spat on the ground and waved her followers over.

“Forget it, we’ve run into a psycho tonight. Let’s go home.”

Before leaving, she shot Mana a vicious glare.

“…Hey, I’ll remember you—since you’re from my school, I’ll find you soon.”

Mana met her gaze, unwavering.

The blonde spat again, twisted smile on her face, and led her gang away.

Watching their figures disappear at the end of the street, Mana finally exhaled, her heart pounding with fear.

“…Lucky the blonde didn’t grab my phone—if she realized the call screen was just a screenshot, who knows what would’ve happened…”

She jogged to the garbage bins. The victim of their bullying was still lying against the wall.

“Hey… are you alright?”

Mana crouched, looking at the girl—long black hair, like a life-sized Japanese doll.

Her tone betrayed her astonishment.

——

As Mana crouched and saw the girl’s face, she understood why the delinquents had called her “birthmark girl,” “ugly.”

Because—on both cheeks, vivid reddish-brown birthmarks sprawled, impossible to hide even with her long hair.

Without the birthmarks, her delicate features might have made her a beauty; but their presence cut off any chance of that, leaving only a figure to be shunned.

Like a monster, the girl stared unwaveringly at Mana, showing no discomfort at her astonished gaze.

She smiled quietly, as calm as ice floating on water.

“You… saved me?”

It was a question, but her tone was certain.

“Um, well…” Mana’s eyes dropped, noticing the girl’s exposed skin—neck, arms, legs—all covered in large, swollen welts.

Beneath the swelling, scars crisscrossed. Some wounds were fresh, some old; they marked her body, forming scars and bleeding cuts.

“These injuries…”

Mana could not hide her distress.

Yet, despite her wounds, the girl did not share Mana’s pained expression. She smiled serenely, as if the injuries did not exist.

“Thank you.”

Then she looked up at the sky.

“…Tonight, there’s no moon.”

Why, at a moment like this, did she care about the moon above? Mana could not comprehend.

The girl’s gaze seemed detached from the world.

The only thing Mana understood was that this girl was hurt; she needed help.

“Should I call an ambulance? But I don’t have money… or the police, but they might take a long time…”

Mana wondered.

At that moment, the face of a young man surfaced in her chaotic mind.

She took a deep breath.

“Hey, can you stand?” She supported the girl, helping her up against the wall. The girl tilted her head, puzzled.

“I know a place—maybe they can help us. Let’s ask for help, okay?”

Mana hoisted the girl’s arm, walking step by step, and asked her opinion.

“Ask for help…”

It wasn’t affirmation or denial; the girl’s smile held an inexplicable quality.

“What’s your name?”

“Me? I’m Mana Mizuhara…”

“Thank you, Mana. I’m Mio Ito.”

“…Eh?”

“—That’s my name.”

“Ah… Oh, um. Alright, Mio.”