Silence.

...........

 Then—darkness.

..........

 Endless, suffocating, unyielding.

....... 

It was all that existed. In the middle of that void stood a small girl, no older than ten, her figure illuminated by an unseen, cold light.

Then they appeared.

 One by one, they emerged from the shadows—men, women, children, some her age, others older. They surrounded her like ghosts, eyes sharp with judgment, their expressions twisted with scorn and rejection.

 All of them stared directly at her. Like she didn’t belong. Like she was the mistake.

 “Look, it’s that girl.”

 “It’s her again.”

“The cursed freak.”

“I heard that her mother died two years ago because of her. And now her older sister is in the hospital.”

 “Must be really tough to be her.”

“Shh! She’s looking this way.”

“Why’re you staring at us?”

“Go away, freak!”

“Why are you even alive?” The voices echoed—men, women, classmates, teachers, strangers. All blurred faces, but all familiar.

“It’s your fault your mother died. It’s your fault she’s dead.” The voices echo, faceless and cold. A woman’s sneer cuts through the fog.

“Because of you, your sister’s in that hospital. You bring misfortune wherever you go.”

“She’s cursed. I heard her own stepmother said so.” Their words crashed over her like waves, suffocating.

“She should’ve never been born.” Her stepmother’s voice, sharp and venomous, rang in her ears.

“Everything you touch falls apart.” Her stepsister’s mocking laughter boomed with spite. “You’re cursed, Aoi. A black mark on our perfect family.”

Aoi stood alone in the void, fists clenched, her breath heavy. She wanted to scream. To fight back.

A fractured image of her thirteen-year-old self, emerged from the shadows—bruised, bloodied, and barely holding herself together. Her torn school uniform hung limply on her frame, dust and dried blood staining the fabric. With her head bowed in silent shame, she stood before the imposing figure of her father, the weight of his judgment pressing down on her like a storm she couldn’t outrun. The moment the words reached his ears—that she had gotten into a fight at school—his expression hardened. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t care to understand.

“How long will you keep dragging this family’s name through the mud?!!” He only shouted, as if her actions had confirmed everything he already believed about her, his face carved in stone, his voice colder than the winter wind.

“You disgraced this family, fighting like a thug. What kind of daughter are you? You’re no daughter of mine.” His voice, the one that once held warmth, now sharp like glass.

“I tell you, she’s even crazier than she looks.” Her stepsister sneered as Aoi's hands trembled, her heart pounding with guilt. She hears a girl’s laughter turn into cries. Her older sister cries as she sat on a hospital bed, her back facing Aoi.

“It’s all your fault. Look what you've done. Look at the situation you’ve put me through. It’s all your fault.” She taunted with tears rolling down her cheeks, her hands covered in blood as she stared at her sister.

 Aoi screamed, but no sound came out. The shadows pressed in. Her chest tightened. She screamed again, but her voice was gone, lost somewhere in the years of silence, of bruises hidden beneath sleeves and heartbreak buried deep. Darkness enveloped her as she tumbled back, dragged under by a cold, unseen current—lost to the world without a trace.

Maybe… they’re right. Perhaps I am the storm they all fear, she mused as she sank further, her eyes slowly closing. It’s so cold… it hurts… it hurts…

………….

In a cramped apartment on the edge of town, the sharp bark of a dog echoed through the fading evening light. Shadows danced along the walls as Aoi lay still on her futon, the amber hues of dusk filtering through the curtains. Her subtle lavender eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. A quiet hum escaped her lips as she slowly sat up, her gaze locked on the floor. Another dream, she thought, brushing a hand through her bangs as the strands of dark blue hair slipped over her eyes. A dry scoff followed. Minutes later, cool water cascaded over her skin, trailing down as she stood silently beneath the showerhead. Eyes closed; the lingering fragments of her dream tugged at her mind. Whatever. She shut the water off and stepped out, steam swirling around her. She was dressed in a black undershirt layered beneath a white hoodie with lavender accents—two sleek lavender stripes lining the sleeves and hem—and paired it with short black shorts, thigh-high socks, and black sneakers trimmed with violet. Pulling the hood over her head, she slipped her hands into her pockets. It was time for a walk.

……………………

Sokyoshi wasn’t much—just a worn-down town crumbling under the weight of crime and silence. A place people forgot, or chose to ignore. Aoi walked along the cracked pavement, her hands buried in her hoodie pockets, shoulders hunched against the chill. A perfect fit for someone like me, she thought, eyes scanning the dimly lit streets. A cursed existence. Something that shouldn’t even be here. She exhaled, watching her breath disappear into the evening air. I’ve been alone for so long… and maybe that’s for the best. Better to walk alone than drag someone else into the dark with me.

The neon lights of a small convenience store buzzed faintly as she walked past the shop, oblivious of the theft going on in there. A group of four young men dressed in cheap tracksuits in the shop, their presence thick with arrogance. One had a scar running down his cheek, another kept tossing a switchblade between his fingers. The leader, a tall, lanky guy with a cocky grin, leaned against the counter and slammed down a baseball bat.

“Yo, old man,” he sneered. “How about a donation?” The store owner, a young middle-aged man with tousled brown hair, cast them a disinterested glance, his cold blue eyes gleaming with indifference.

“Seriously. You boys again, huh? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He countered.

“Enough with the theatrics, old man. Just give us the money.” The one with the scar ordered.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have extra money to give.” He sneered, his eyebrows furrowing.

The leader clicked his tongue. “Tsk. That’s not what I wanna hear.” He grabbed the cash register, trying to pry it open as he took out large bundles of money, shoving them into his sack.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” The man shouted, hands curling into fists—only to be restrained by two of the robbers, each locking down an arm as the third brought a gleaming switchblade to his neck.

“Stand still, grandpa, or else I’ll slit your throat.” The guy threatened with a low chuckle, the other two mirroring it.

“What’d you say?! Let go of me, dammit!” Once the leader was done, he tied the mouth of the sack with a rope.

“Come on!” He shouted the command before dashing out of the store, the others releasing the man and scrambling after him. The group burst through the door and bolted down the street, the store owner hot on their heels until he came to a stop just beyond his shop.

“Stop! Thieves!” His voice rang out in desperation, trying to alert those nearby. Gasps filled the air as few onlookers watched the four men dash away. Aoi turned, her gaze locking on the approaching figures—and behind them was the store owner, in a plain T-shirt, comfortable trousers underneath a warm ochre coloured apron, running hard to keep up.

“Those are the allowances I kept for my daughters! Give them back!” He said, his face etched with worry. Aoi sighed; she wasn’t a hero. She already had enough problems of her own. But there was something about what the man said that shook her, how he clutched his fists like it was his last line of defense. And just when I was trying to stay out of trouble, a quiet breath escaped her as she ran a hand through her fringe, stepping directly into the path of the charging men. Her hood dipped low, hiding the glint in her eyes beneath its shadow.

“Hey! Get out of the way!!” The leader barked out, but Aoi merely opened her eyes, her gaze still veiled in shadow. As he closed in, she raised her leg in one swift motion, slamming her foot into his face. He spun midair, the stolen bag flying loose as his body hit the ground with a heavy thud, face-first. Without sparing him a glance, Aoi caught the bag midair with ease.

“Boss!” The other three called, running over to help him sit up. With blood smeared on his nose, he glared at her.

“Who the hell are you?!” He snarled, the other three scowling at her.

“Hah? What’s this, a little high school girl trying to be tough?” The one with scar mocked.

Aoi stared at them, unimpressed. “If you’re gonna rob a place, at least be quick about it. You’re embarrassing yourselves.”

The leader’s face twisted. “The hell did you just say?”

Aoi tilted her head, tossing the bag a few steps behind her. “Did I stutter?” He stood up, charging at her, his arm reeling backward.

“Nobody gets to talk to us like that! You’re just a little girl, you freak! Hand over the bag and stay out of our way!” He roared, throwing a wild punch toward her face. But Aoi moved like water, sidestepping with ease. Her hood slipped back, revealing a cascade of dark blue hair flowing with the motion. She clenched her right fist and drove it straight into his face, the impact echoing like a crack of thunder.

“Ghh—!” The air left his lungs as he doubled over, choking with a slide backwards. The others froze, their eyes and mouths wide open in shock.

Aoi adjusted her hoodie sleeve, her eyes cold as she looked at them. “Leave. Or I break something.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?!!” Scarface lunged at her, swinging his baseball bat. Aoi twisted sideways, grabbed his wrist, and snapped his balance, sending him crashing into the ground. The third guy swung a punch—she caught it midair and drove her knee into his gut. The last man hesitated, but he charged in anyway. He threw a punch, but she slipped past it with ease—her knee shooting up and connecting hard with his chin. As he reeled back, she spun midair, delivering a flying kick to the back of his head. He soared forward, crashing into his unconscious crew like a wrecking ball. Gasps filled the street as the store owner and onlookers stared, jaws slack, while Aoi stepped toward the heap of bodies, hands confidently resting on her hips.

“That should shut you up,” she muttered, crouching down and grabbing the man by his collar, anger simmering in her grip. “You must be out of your mind thinking you could get away with stealing something important. Spoiler alert—you can’t. You better never try to steal ever again, you morons.” Her tone was cold, edged with venom.

She let go of him, letting his head hit the pavement with a dull thud, then stood tall. Blood trickled from the noses of the unconscious thieves, but she didn’t flinch. Slipping her hands back into her hoodie pockets, Aoi walked over to the fallen bag, picked it up, and made her way to the store owner, whose eyes followed her with stunned curiosity. He gasped softly as she stopped in front of him and held the bag out.

“Here. This is yours,” she said flatly. As he reached out and took it, she turned slightly, her profile cast in the dim light, eyes closed, one hand already back in her pocket.

“Thank you… Thank you so much! You don’t know how much this means to me! I really appreciate the save.” He appreciated with grateful eyes, his smile huge with warmth. Aoi offered a subtle nod before pulling the hood over her head.

“Later.” She said, turning to walk away with her hands in her pockets.

The man blinked. “W-Wait!” With a hand outstretched, he fell into step behind her, matching her pace as she walked on. “Won’t you need a repayment?” He asked, strolling behind her.

“Don’t need it. I just offered to help, that’s all. Can’t stay around people for long.” She answered, her voice soft but firm.

“But, can I at least know your name?” She halted mid-step at his question, turning just enough to look back, her expression unreadable save for the flicker of doubt in her sidelong glance.

“It’s… Aoi Saku—” Her voice faltered when a loud growl escaped her stomach, and heat rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment. The man let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes crinkling with amusement, before he opened them again, his smile gentle, only making her blush deepen.

“Why don’t you come to my restaurant and let’s get you sorted out, yeah?” He offered, earning a skeptical look from Aoi.