Volume Zero: Before the Beginning

The woman sat upright in her hospital bed, frail yet dignified, her hands resting gently against her lap. Across from her stood a man, his shoulders trembling as if the weight of the world was collapsing in on him. His eyes wavered, desperate, but powerless.

Sayuka smiled at him—soft, sorrowful, yet resolute.
“I can’t,” she said, voice tender but unwavering. “No matter how many times you ask me, my answer won’t change. Perhaps I could live a few more years if I gave up this child… but that doesn’t change the truth. My end is already near. I would rather give this child a life by trading away my own.”

Her lips curved into a helpless smile, though her eyes shimmered with grief.
“I know it’s selfish. My body is frail… there’s every chance I might lose the baby before it’s even born. But instead of waiting quietly for the inevitable, I want to try. I want to do my best. A part of me simply longs to leave something behind—proof that I existed beside you, Itsuto. That I was your wife.”

Her voice faltered, but she pressed on, even as her throat tightened.
“I know this wish of mine hurts you more than anyone. I’ve done nothing but exploit your love. And still, I… I can’t let go of it.”

Itsuto’s chest rose with a trembling breath. He didn’t answer. If he spoke, the dam would burst. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the room, his fists clenched at his sides, his face a mask stretched thin to contain the flood within.

As he left, an elderly woman in traditional clothes entered, calling after him.
“Itsuto?”

But her son did not hear her. His footsteps faded down the corridor, heavy with unshed grief.

Sayuka bowed her head in greeting. “Mother.”

The old woman clicked her tongue. “That stupid son of mine. He should stop being so selfish and simply listen to you.”

Sayuka shook her head. “No, Mother. It’s me who has always dragged him along with my selfish wishes.”

“Nonsense,” the old woman said sharply. “It is a husband’s duty to humour his wife’s whims. What does he think he’s doing—sulking like a five-year-old? Hmph.”

She sighed and stepped closer, her tone softening.
“So… this is your final decision, Sayuka?”

Sayuka’s smile flickered like a fading candle. “I know my choice wounds Itsuto most of all. And I know my time is short, no matter what I do.”

“Sayuka…” the old lady murmured, her voice full of worry.

Sayuka shook her head gently, tears beginning to spill.
“I can’t bring myself to ask him to move on from me. It feels like I’d be mocking his love, his affection, all the time he’s given me—turning it into a cruel joke. But at the same time… I’m terrified of becoming his shackles forever. And yet… I don’t want to be left behind as just a fading memory of the past, either.”

Her tears slipped free, falling quietly, as fragile and inevitable as petals falling from a wilted flower.

“I want to be with him in the future. To care for him as his wife, to raise our child as a mother. But I… I wasn’t given that future. Still, I was blessed—with love, with time, with people I treasure…”

Her words dissolved into sobs. The old woman gathered her into her arms, holding her tightly as if trying to shield her from fate itself.

“Let’s not dwell on what’s uncertain,” she whispered. “Even if Itsuto is obsessed with you now, he will pour the same devotion into the child you give him. And who can say what will come? Perhaps you’ll still be here, smiling with them both. Hope, Sayuka. Don’t let go of hope.”

The old woman pressed her lips together, hiding her own trembling thoughts. ‘Why do the kindest souls always face the cruellest burdens? If I could, I would give her the rest of my years, take her death as my own…’

Time moved as it always does, indifferent to their prayers. Sayuka gave birth to a boy with hair as white as snow and skin as pale as a pearl. It was said that she looked upon him once—only once—her face filled with peace as she took her final breath.

At her funeral, Itsuto did not shed a tear. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on her lifeless body; his expression was blank. He didn’t even glance at the child. Not a single word escaped him. His silence unsettled everyone, but no one dared disturb him until the end.