Chapter Thirty-Nine: Memories

The next morning.

When Mio Ito pushed open her bedroom door and stepped out, the woman's room was tightly shut; she was likely still asleep.

That was expected. Ever since the sole man in their home—Mio Ito's father, the woman's husband—had died in the line of duty a decade ago, the woman rarely rose early anymore.

—The man's name had been Hiroshi Ito.

He died ten years ago, a policeman.

Mio Ito never learned the details of his death. She only remembered coming home one day to find several men in black suits sitting solemnly at the table, their heads bowed. The woman, then still able to play the role of a gentle mother, sat behind them, looking bewildered and fearful.

When Mio Ito entered, the woman clung to her like a lifeline, hurriedly asking:

"Hey... They say Hiroshi died 'in the line of duty.' What does that mean? Is it something about editing? A place to live? What is it, really..."

Her face was full of confusion and panic, desperate to escape reality.

Mio Ito froze, halfway through retrieving her slippers from the cabinet, and stared at the men in black suits.

"Father... died in the line of duty?"

The men in suits remained grave, their eyes fixed downward.

In that instant, Mio Ito felt as though the air she breathed rose from the depths of the earth, scorching with sulfur and molten heat, burning her throat, leaving her breathless.

All other memories from that day had faded, but she recalled how, from that moment on, their home began to swell and warp like a malignant tumor.

The woman, who had only a high school diploma, had lived as a housewife since marriage, possessing little ability to work. After Hiroshi Ito's death, she lived off the not insignificant but far from ample compensation, and at the crossroads of life, she veered off course. Drawn in by visiting missionaries, she joined a peculiar religion, sinking deeper into decadence—a life crumbling like a sandcastle.

She sold their original house, offered most of the proceeds and the compensation to the cult leader in exchange for "happiness in the next life."

She let herself be manipulated by others, drinking heavily, overeating, drowning in cigarettes and other numbing substances. Her once attractive face and figure deteriorated day by day.

As for Mio Ito herself, the birthmark on her face was like a brand she’d been born with.

Even in childhood, facing others always meant encountering furrowed brows or burning, hostile gazes.

With each passing year, as her education advanced, her classmates grew no more polite.

Quite the opposite—bullying only intensified.

Punches, kicks, cigarette burns, dunking her head in buckets of water, carving marks into her arms with knives...

That ugly birthmark served as a boundary between friend and foe. From late elementary school through junior high and high school, Mio Ito was always the easiest target for bullying in her class.

Malicious darkness poured down on her, wrapping her in its suffocating embrace.

Only rarely did a hint of kindness reach her—from that child called Mana Mizuhara, for instance.

...Or perhaps the manager of that bookstore?

Mio Ito recalled these things as she silently finished her morning wash.

To prevent further damage to the memorial portrait, she hid the frame beneath her blanket.

She gently pushed open her door, closed it again, and with the familiar creak, began descending the iron stairs, heading toward Jingtai Academy.

Though she still bore many wounds, and fresh bloodstains marked her forehead from last night's scrape, surprisingly, none of them hurt anymore.

Moreover—Mio Ito touched her chest, feeling the warmth that emanated from her pendant, vibrant and alive, keeping her from shivering in the cold.

This strange warmth made her think again of the person who had gifted her the pendant.

"...Everything is but a fleeting dream, even life and death are illusions to us."

The words of that man from last night still echoed in her mind. Perhaps there was a certain emptiness in his tone, some wisdom worth pondering, but for Mio Ito, what mattered most was—

"...Did he see through what I was thinking?"

Mio Ito walked with her head bowed in the morning breeze, lost in thought.

The question of whether Shiguya had seen into her deepest heart slowly fermented within her chest. Perhaps, to outsiders, her bullied circumstances would appear pitiable—but to Mio Ito, that wasn't what mattered most.

Because within her, there was something older, more solid.

It was her experience from her early elementary years.

At that time, the class's jointly raised rabbit was found dead in its cage, and its death was especially tragic.

The next day, the prettiest girl in the class cried in fright at the sight, and the boys were left aghast.

Only a classmate, someone who knew where the rabbit lived and could seize the opportunity, could have done it.

Thus, Mio Ito, who rarely interacted with others and bore a frightening birthmark on her face, was unanimously accused by her classmates.

Even the teacher tacitly accepted this—perhaps she had long found the ugly girl who sat at the back of the classroom every day an eyesore.

As for the woman, then still a gentle mother, she merely apologized, agreed with the teacher's judgment, and even consented to transfer Mio Ito to another school. She instinctively saw Mio Ito as her "shame," and though she would play the role of a good mother because of her husband's presence, even before Hiroshi Ito died, she occasionally cast strange glances Mio Ito's way.

Only Hiroshi Ito—only he brought Mio Ito to school, and spoke out loudly before teachers and classmates:

"I believe my daughter would never do such a thing. I trust that my child has a strong sense of morality and would never harm innocent life. And your prejudice—prejudice toward a student's appearance—is what I see as truly wrong. Why not judge by facts? I, Hiroshi Ito, as a policeman, will investigate this incident thoroughly until I find the real culprit and clear my daughter's name."

The image of that man, swearing to fight for his daughter, was hammered deep into Mio Ito's heart like a wedge. His back was upright as a flagpole, standing tall and unwavering before her, like a clock tower in her line of sight.

Seven days later, Hiroshi Ito, through careful evidence gathering and on-site investigation, successfully apprehended the true culprit behind the rabbit's death.

The evidence was irrefutable. The child received cold stares from classmates and transferred out, while, perhaps out of guilt for the "wrongly accused," Mio Ito was for the first time approached with friendliness by her peers. Yet the warmth was fleeting, soon returning to the original coldness.

But—whether classmates were friendly or distant, Mio Ito didn't care in the slightest.

What shook her was only that man who burst into the classroom, standing above the teacher's podium, passionately declaring his unconditional trust in her before the stunned teacher and students.

Hiroshi Ito.

Only him...

Lost in memories, her body suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground.

Mio Ito lay on her back, eyes wide open, gazing up at a familiar figure looming above.

—it was the delinquent with the golden hair.

She held a cigarette between her fingers, her brows furrowed in annoyance, high boots pressed hard against Mio Ito's chest, while her entourage laughed and surrounded them.

"Why are you alone? Where's that brazen girl with glasses from last night?"

She glanced around, and, not seeing the person she wanted, a shadow crossed her face.

She withdrew her gaze and looked back at Mio Ito, the golden-haired delinquent spat, snorted from her nose.

"…Tch, whatever. I can have fun with just you. Let's start."

What would happen next was already clear.

Mio Ito said nothing, calmly awaiting her fate.

Then, fists began to rain down.