CHAPTER 48: DIRECTION: NAGANO

The gentle rays of the morning sun glimmer over the dried tear streaks on Miori’s face as she sleeps on a bench in a public park on the southern outskirts of Sakari, a town on the border with Ueda.

After running away from home, she wandered aimlessly for almost an hour. Exhaustion finally caught up with her around four-thirty in the morning, and she collapsed onto the bench.

At her feet lies her phone, smashed to pieces after she stomped on it repeatedly — a precaution to keep anyone from tracking her through the GPS in case Kagura decided to report her disappearance. But rather than alert anyone, Miori is certain her mother is sleeping peacefully, relieved that she finally left the house for good.

It’s around nine in the morning when the shouts and laughter of the first children brought to the park by their parents drag Miori out of her sleep, her mind still foggy and weighed down by the brutal fight the night before.

She cracks her eyes open, still red and burning from all the crying.

«Mom, why is that lady sleeping in the park?» a curious little boy asks, taking a few steps toward her.

«What are you doing? Get away from there!» his mother hisses, pulling him back by the arm.

«But Mom, I wanna sleep in the park tonight too!» the child whines.

«If you don’t study, you’ll end up spending your life sleeping in parks! Don’t you dare grow up and end up like that girl!» the woman scolds, shooting Miori a look that’s half disdain, half concern — to her, Miori is probably just another drunk homeless girl using park benches as a bed.

«Young lady, this is a park for children, not a homeless shelter! You’re scaring the kids — leave now or I’m calling the authorities!» the woman snaps at Miori.

«Oh, shut up, bitch, or I’ll buy your house and stick you under a bridge,» Miori mutters, still half-asleep and groggy from barely getting any rest.

Who am I kidding...? By now my cards are probably already frozen.

Good thing I’ve still got enough cash on me for one last proper meal at Cordesol Meat and finally try their Wagyu Tataki Fusion — it looks insanely good. I went there four times last month and somehow forgot to order it every single time.

«Mom, what does ’bitch’ mean?» the child asks with total innocence.

«It means that girl is extremely rude — and I’m calling the police right now!» the mother snaps, rummaging through her purse for her phone.

«Stop making such a scene — I’m leaving,» Miori mutters, slowly pushing herself up from the bench with her bag under her arm, stumbling a bit as she heads toward the park’s exit.

The woman covers her son’s eyes to spare him from the "indecent sight" of a drunk girl at nine in the morning — or at least, that’s how she sees it.

Taking public transportation to Nagano would be the smartest choice — but also the option most likely to get me spotted by the police in the unlikely event my mother actually filed a report. And honestly, it’s not like I’m in a huge rush to get there anyway — Cordesol Meat doesn’t open until eight tonight.

Besides, I’ve never walked from Ueda to Nagano before — I guess it’s one of those things everyone should try at least once, right? No. Definitely not. Anyway, it should take six or seven hours at a normal pace — nine if I include breaks and grabbing something to eat along the way.

I’d get there right at eight — perfect timing for dinner. Good enough.

●Two hours later●

It’s just past ten in the morning when, after two hours of walking under the increasingly scorching June sun, Miori reaches the industrial district of Chikuma. There isn’t a soul in sight — the factories are closed, and the whole area is dead silent.

That silence is broken only by a faint tapping behind her — growing clearer, unmistakably the approach of a large dog. Instinctively, she spins around and braces herself, afraid it might be a stray defending its territory.

And she’s right — it’s clearly a stray.

The animal, a two-year-old golden retriever, has no collar, looks underfed, and its hazelnut fur is dirty and patchy in places. But its intentions are anything but hostile: it trots toward her with its tail wagging, limping on its right hind leg.

«Looks like you’re homeless too, huh?» Miori murmurs, crouching in front of the dog as it licks her left hand while she gently strokes its muzzle with the right.

But the sweet, almost compassionate look in Miori’s eyes suddenly sharpens, turning into something colder... darker... and a sadistic grin stretches across her face.

Her right hand clamps around the dog’s muzzle, locking it in an iron grip. With her left hand she grabs its tail, lifting the animal off the ground and leaving it dangling helplessly.

The dog thrashes, kicking its legs, the air filling with its muffled whimpers of pain — strangled by Miori’s grip — but every attempt to break free is useless. Small and weak, it stands no chance against her overwhelming strength.

Miori clenches her teeth, breathing hard and slow, her sapphire eyes burning with a deranged, senseless murderous frenzy. Her grip tightens further, bones starting to crack under the pressure; the animal gasps for air as it suffocates.

She’s seconds away from killing it — just a few more moments and the poor creature would die in agony under Miori’s thrilled, satisfied stare.

But suddenly — with the same abrupt, unpredictable snap — she releases both the tail and the muzzle, letting the dog drop to the ground.

She freezes, eyes wide, as if struck by a sudden moment of clarity, while the dog bolts away, whining and limping even worse than before.

Miori collapses to her knees, crushed by guilt and horror at what she had almost done to that defenseless creature — her eyes fixed on the retreating dog until it becomes nothing more than a tiny dot in the distance.

Heavy tears splash onto the blistering asphalt.

«W-Why... WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! WHY?! I hate myself... I hate myself so much!» Miori cries out, slamming her fists against the pavement in a desperate breakdown.

«I... I’ll never let anyone suffer because of me ever again! I swear — never again!»

●Eleven hours later●

«So, starting today, you’re officially a year older than me. Hard to believe you’re twenty, though. If I didn’t know better, I’d say sixteen, maybe seventeen, tops,» Aoshi says with a playful grin, sitting beside Ayane on the bus from Ueda to Nagano.

«You’ve been saying that every single year on my birthday since we met — repeating it every year isn’t going to magically change my birthday,» Ayane grumbles, her knees pressed together and her arms folded tightly to avoid any accidental contact with Aoshi.

Not that she’d mind touching him — but she’d die of embarrassment if Aoshi pulled away and apologized. She wants to avoid that at all costs.

«And besides, it’s not nice to tell a twenty-year-old she looks like a high schooler...» she adds, shooting him a deadly glare.

«B-But I meant it as a compliment!» he panics. «These days women are terrified of aging and often get cosmetic treatments to look younger — and you’re lucky enough not to need any of that.»

«You’re not improving your situation, Aoshi,» Ayane hisses.

«You know that red-haired woman who lives in my apāto? She spent a fortune on treatments just to look a few years younger — she’d probably sell her soul to have your luck. I-I really didn’t mean it as an insult, I swear...» Aoshi mutters, mortified.

«Of course, that woman must be over sixty!» Ayane snaps back. «Old hags do everything they can to look younger, while young girls do everything they can to look older. Why do you think we wear makeup and dress like grown women even when we’re still really young? Oh, Aoshi... when it comes to women, you really are a hopeless case...»

«I-I never really thought about that...» he mumbles.

He sneaks a quick sideways glance at Ayane — only to snap his gaze forward the instant his eyes catch the faint glimpse of her cleavage, her small curves clearly visible from his height, nearly thirty centimeters above tiny Ayane.

«B-By the way, Ayane... don’t you think you dressed a bit too fancy? I mean, we’re just going to a fast food place,» Aoshi asks hesitantly.

Ayane’s outfit is an ankle-length red dress with an openly wide slit along her right thigh. It’s low-cut in the front and open in the back, paired with matching high heels.

Meanwhile, Aoshi is just wearing a hoodie and jeans.

«It’s my birthday, and you invited me out — just the two of us... It’s normal to dress nicely no matter where you’re going, isn’t it?»

«Y-Yeah, I guess so...» he murmurs, gazing out the window.

They’ve just passed Nagano’s massive water park, which means they’re almost there — and indeed, a few minutes later, the bus stops right next to the fast food place, directly across from Cordesol Meat, the restaurant where he and Eliss celebrated their one-month anniversary.