The continuous jolts atop the caravans alarmed all the passengers. A persistent trembling shook the structure, making objects clink and fabric curtains sway.
One by one, the travelers exchanged worried glances and moved toward the driver's cabin in search of answers.
Meanwhile, Yume remained seated, clutching the edge of her robe with trembling hands. A sense of unease tightened around her chest, like a dark omen that made it hard to breathe deeply.
Kaito... damn it, go away! she thought, gritting her teeth. Why can't you understand that Shirogane is capable of—
She abruptly stopped. A shiver ran down her spine as a distant memory resurfaced, vivid as if it had happened just the day before.
In a small town in the heart of the Land of Kairen, one of the four known regions of the world, a gentle breeze swept through the brick houses. The alleys buzzed with life: merchants called out to customers, children ran among the fruit and spice stalls, and groups of men sat at the tables of old bars, their faces flushed from too much alcohol.
In the middle of that hustle and bustle, a little girl ran carefreely along the bank of a stream that divided the city into north and south.
She wore a patched kimono with sleeves far too long for her frail little body. Her messy hair framed her lively face, and in her violet eyes gleamed the curiosity of someone who still saw the world as a place full of wonder.
Barefoot, she skipped over stones near the water, giggling to herself as she chased a small leaf carried by the current.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the city streets.
"Yume, it's dinner time!"
The little girl stopped abruptly. She turned around, looking toward the houses and noticing the sky tinged with orange. The sun was setting, and shadows stretched through the alleys.
A smile lit up her face.
"Coming, Mom!" she shouted, running home.
Waiting for her was a woman with long dark hair tied up carefully. She wore a simple dress with a white apron over it. Despite the slight dark circles under her eyes and her weary air, she smiled gently at her daughter.
"Did you have fun today?" she asked, placing a hand on Yume's head.
Yume nodded enthusiastically, grabbing her hand.
About half an hour later, mother and daughter sat down for dinner.
Their house was modest, with walls aged by time. The ground floor consisted of an entrance and a small kitchen with a worn wooden table, an almost empty pantry, and a cast iron stove. Upstairs, there was only one bedroom with a bed, an old dresser, and a few rickety pieces of furniture.
Dinner was meager: a piece of stale bread and some water.
"Mom, are we eating just this again today?" Yume asked, lowering her gaze.
Miyuki stared at her for a moment. Her eyes, for a brief instant, were clouded with sadness. Then she approached and embraced her warmly.
"I'm sorry, Yume… we have to make do."
The girl looked at her for a moment, then smiled gently.
"It's okay, Mom! It tastes better when we're together!"
Miyuki's eyes widened, then she smiled with a hint of bitterness.
Dinner passed with laughter and light chatter, until they both retired for the night.
The Next Day
Yume was still sleeping, her breath slow and peaceful, while Miyuki woke up early.
She got up quietly, prepared breakfast with what little they had—a bit of milk and some crumbled biscuits—and then got ready.
She stood in front of a cracked mirror, staring at her reflection.
She sighed, then put on an elegant but low-cut dress, applied lipstick, and carefully fixed her hair.
After grabbing her bag, she left the house and headed toward the most luxurious hotel in the city.
Though the building was made of wood, by local standards it was a refined place: couches lined the sides of the hall, tables were neatly set, and the reception was always busy.
As soon as she stepped inside, a few men noticed her immediately. One of them approached with a smug grin.
"Hey, Miyuki. Ready? Let's have some fun today too."
The woman lowered her gaze. Her hands trembled.
"Let's go to the room," she finally replied, with a smile that wasn't hers.
Two hours passed.
The men left, leaving the room in disarray.
Miyuki remained lying on the bed, her face covered by her arm. The sheet barely covered her naked body, while inside she felt only unbearable disgust.
Meanwhile, at home, Yume had spent the day drawing.
When she heard the door open, she ran to her mother with a smile.
"Hi, Mom!"
Miyuki gave her a tired smile, but suddenly dropped to her knees.
"Mom! What's wrong?"
Yume knelt beside her, worried.
Miyuki clenched her fists. The pain choked her.
"I-I'm sorry, Yume…" she murmured through her tears.
After a few minutes, she felt her daughter move. When she looked up, she saw her return with a sheet of paper.
"Here, Mom. I made this for you!"
On it was a colorful message: To the best mom ever!
Miyuki stood still. Then, all of a sudden, she broke into tears and hugged her daughter tightly.
"I love you, Yume."
Their worries, at least for that night, vanished into nothing.
Nine Years Later
Yume was now fourteen years old and worked at an inn to earn a little money. Miyuki did what she could too.
The owner was a young man in his thirties, neatly dressed with slicked-back hair.
"You've done a great job again today, Yume," he said.
The girl turned toward him. "Thank you, I'm trying my best."
After leaving the bar, Yume was exhausted. She decided to take a shortcut through the city alleys.
Despite her fatigue, she was satisfied to have earned a tip of around fifty brish.
As she neared home, she saw her mother standing in front of an old man's doorstep. She looked pensive, with a hint of sadness.
"Here, this brish is for you."
Miyuki opened the envelope and noticed some money was missing.
"This isn't the amount we agreed on…"
The man shrugged.
"Not my problem if you can't satisfy your clients."
Miyuki went pale, shocked, unable to reply. The door slammed shut in her face.
Around the corner, Yume had heard everything. And in that moment, she understood the truth about her mother.