One after another, the travelers exchanged worried glances and moved toward the pilot’s cabin in search of an explanation.

Meanwhile, Yume remained seated, clutching the edge of her robe with trembling hands. A sense of unease tightened around her chest.

—Kaito... damn it, go away!— she thought, clenching her teeth. —Don’t you understand that Shirogane is capable of...—

She cut herself off suddenly. A chill ran down her spine as a distant memory resurfaced in her mind, vivid as if it had happened the day before.

In a small town in the heart of the Land of Kairen, one of the four regions of the known world, the wind blew gently between the brick houses.

The alleys teemed with life: merchants called out to customers, children ran between stalls of fruit and spices, and groups of men sat at the tables of old taverns, faces reddened from too much drink.

In the midst of that bustle, a little girl ran carefree along the bank of a stream that divided the town between north and south.

She wore a patched kimono, the sleeves too large for her thin frame. Her messy hair framed a lively face, and curiosity sparkled in her violet eyes as if the world were still full of wonder.

She hopped from stone to stone near the water, laughing to herself while chasing a small leaf carried by the current.

Suddenly a voice echoed through the streets.

«Yume, it’s time for dinner!»

The little girl stopped dead. She turned, looking toward the houses and noticing the sky tinged orange. The sun was setting, and shadows lengthened through the alleys.

A smile lit her face.

«I’m coming, Mum!» she called, running toward home.

Waiting for her was a woman with long dark hair, neatly tied back. She wore a simple dress with a white apron over it. Despite faint dark circles and a weary air, she smiled gently at her daughter.

«Did you have fun today?» she asked, placing a hand on her head.

Yume nodded enthusiastically, squeezing her hand.

After about half an hour, mother and daughter sat down at the table.

Their house was modest, its walls aged by time. The lower floor held an entrance and a tiny kitchen with a worn wooden table, a nearly empty pantry, and an iron stove. Upstairs there was only one bedroom with a bed, an old dresser, and a few battered pieces of furniture.

Dinner was meager: a piece of bread and some water.

«Mum, are we going to eat only this again?» Yume asked, lowering her gaze.

Miyuki looked at her for a moment. Her eyes clouded with sadness for an instant. Then she moved closer and hugged her warmly.

«I’m sorry, Yume... we’ll have to make do.»

The little girl watched her for a moment, then smiled sweetly.

«It’s okay, Mum! It’s better together!»

Miyuki’s eyes widened, then she returned the smile with a touch of bitterness.

The meal passed with laughter and light chatter until both of them went to bed.

The next day

Yume still slept, breathing slowly and peacefully, while Miyuki woke early.

She rose without making a sound, prepared breakfast from the little they had—a bit of milk and some crumbled biscuits—and then got ready.

She stood before a cracked mirror and studied her reflection.

She sighed, then put on an elegant but low-cut dress, applied lipstick, and tidied her hair.

After taking her bag, she left the house and headed to the town’s most luxurious inn.

Although the building was wooden, by local standards it was refined: settees flanked the room, tables were well laid, and the reception was always crowded.

As soon as she stepped inside, several men noticed her. One of them approached with a smug grin.

«Hello, Miyuki. Ready? Are we going to have fun today?»

The woman lowered her gaze. Her hands trembled.

«Let’s go to the room,» she finally replied, forcing a smile that did not belong to her.

Two hours passed.

The men left, leaving the room in disarray.

Miyuki lay on the bed, her face buried in her arm. The sheet barely covered her body.

Meanwhile, at home, Yume had spent the day drawing.

When she heard the door open, she ran to meet her mother with a smile.

«Hi Mum!»

Miyuki returned a tired smile, then suddenly collapsed to her knees.

«Mum! Mum, what’s wrong?»

Yume knelt beside her, worried.

Miyuki clenched her fists. Pain squeezed the life from her.

«S-sorry, Yume...» she murmured through tears.

After a few minutes, the little girl moved. When Miyuki looked up, she saw Yume coming back with a sheet of paper in her hand.

«Here, Mum. I made this for you!»

On it was a colorful inscription: To the best mum ever!

Miyuki froze. Then, all at once, she broke down and hugged her daughter tightly.

«I love you, Yume.»

For that night at least, their worries melted away.

Nine years later

Yume was now fourteen and worked at an inn to scrape together some money. Miyuki tried to do the same.

The owner was a man in his thirties, neatly dressed with pomaded hair slicked back.

«You did a great job again today, Yume.»

The girl turned to him. «Thank you, I’m trying my best.»

Leaving the bar, Yume was exhausted and decided to cut through the alleys to shorten the trip home.

Despite the fatigue, she felt satisfied to have earned a tip of about fifty brish.

As she walked, she saw her mother standing in front of an old man’s door. Miyuki looked troubled, a shadow of sadness on her face.

«Here, this brish is for you.»

Miyuki opened the envelope and noticed some money was missing.

«It’s not the amount we agreed on...»

The man shrugged.

«It’s not my problem if you can’t satisfy the customers. You used to give me more pleasure.»

Miyuki went pale, stunned, unable to respond.

The door closed in her face.

Yume had heard the whole conversation. She brought her hands to her mouth: it felt as if the world had fallen in on her.