[Vol.2] Chapter 1: The Girl In Blue
A lone child roamed across the empty streets. Each corner she passed was steeped in thick shadows. Mice scurried into hiding as rats whispered from the dark. Voices told stories, gossip about a cursed girl, an evil child. One who murdered her own.
The girl continued to roam across the streets of the silent village, and each of her gentle steps sent ripples through the puddles below. She looked toward the dark sky as rain poured down. She needed shelter, an open door within the chaos.
A breath between screams
But there was none. And as she neared an open tent, her ears twitched. Whispers. âLook at it.â A voice, barely audible, cut through the sound of rain. âShh. Itâll hear us.â A sharper voice replied. No one wanted a monster in their home. Even if this monster was nothing more than a child.
Bags filled with old stuff, bottles, clothes, and food. She reached for one, placing several into a pile. She had made a nylon bed of sorts under the open tent. Home, she thought. Or at least, something close enough. And there, she sat on old bags of rubbish, her gaze darting across the small raindrops that fell before her. Her face bore no expression. Her clothes were too small. She had nothing. Nothing but the soft, silent, and comforting sound of inevitable rain.
Hours had passed as she lay on the nylon bags. Suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps appeared behind her. She opened her eyes, almost afraid to look at the source, and then closed them once more. She was too tired to care, too helpless to protect herself, and so she continued to lie on the bags, hoping whoever stood behind her would soon leave. Barely a few seconds had passed when the bags beneath her shifted, followed by the rustling of several more. Someone had sat beside her. She opened her eyes once more, still afraid to look at the figure now sitting beside her fragile frame.
âHere, Akari.â
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Huh? Akari jolted up. It had been several weeks since she had heard that name. Her own name. Before she could fully process what had just happened, a sweet smell caught her attention. Her gaze jumped to the place the figure should have been, as her cold hands instinctively followed. Instead, her trembling hands found onigiri. A rice ball, warm and soft, gently wrapped in seaweed. She looked at it for a moment, confused.
âFood?â Her soft voice echoed in the darkness. Then, she slowly stood and glanced around the empty street. Who⦠was that?
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Hours passed, and the morning sun illuminated the village in radiant light.
âHey, thief!â a voice shouted, thick with hatred. âShe stole my clothes!â A man in his early thirties stood several feet away, pointing, accusing. A crowd gathered. The village monster had committed another crime.
Akari stirred as the light spilt across her vision. The rain was gone, replaced by brightness too harsh for her heart. She rose, wiping garbage from her damp hair. It smells, she thought, and when she looked forward, her heart jumped. For a moment, it felt as though the world had paused, a horrible reminder of the nightmare she lived. The villagers seemed to hate her for merely existing.
Her gaze dropped to the cloth in her hands. Large, brown, soft, and warm to the touch. How did I get this? she wondered, bewildered by the gift.
Frantically, she stood, raising the cloth as she faced the man. âIâm sorry,â she said, eyes fixed on the ground. She didnât want trouble. She dropped to her knees, tears pouring freely. A child, helpless and afraid, surrounded by monsters. But they didnât care. All they saw was a demon. They didnât hate her because she alone survived. They didnât hate her because of superstition. They hated her because they were afraid.
Two months earlier
An elderly man, tall and hunched, noticed a crowd gathering around the Hinamata residence. Whispers drifted, sharp and curious. âA demon,â one voice said. âIs it really?â another replied.
A demon? he thought, pushing forward for a closer look. Beyond the crowd, the Hinamata home, once proud and once unshaken, was gone, reduced to its foundation. Villagers stared, some wide-eyed, others turning away in fear. The old man shuffled closer, weaving past shoulders and trembling frames, until he paused. His cane slipped from his hand and clattered against the earth, echoing into the silence. He gasped. There, just a few feet away, a small girl with dark blue hair lay still. Motionless, solemn, and alone in the rubble. The deep blue mist swirled around her body, shrouding her broken frame. Void surged through her inanimate limbs, closing wounds and knitting injuries. A curse, and a blessing. The villagers didnât understand what it meant, and for that, they feared her.
Akari Hinamata. The girl in blue.