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Authors: Mizuki Nomura
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occupation field said, “I’m a high school girl at the S Music Academy,” and the comments field said, “I want to be an opera singer. I’m looking for a nice old man who’ll hold me tenderly.”
Sweat broke out, soaking the hand that gripped the mouse. Was this really Mito?
There was no denying it—this was an illegal dating service. Had Mito been soliciting men for an underage escort service here? Had she made money by meeting with anonymous hordes of men?
I followed the words on the screen even farther, hunched over the computer intently.
Hobbies: Listening to classical music, shopping
Favorite food: Strawberries
Favorite place to go on a date: Theme park
Favorite author: Miu Inoue
Miu Inoue?!
I felt as if I’d been punched in the head.
Thrust suddenly upon my spirit, which was already strained to its breaking point, the name gave me a shock that bore exponentially more force than usual.
I grew feverish, as if my entire body was engulfed in a blazing fire, and my thoughts came to a complete halt.
Her favorite author was Miu Inoue.
Her name was Camellia.
It had never ended. I was still lying in the alley and had never woken up. What was this nightmare?
It’s not true! It’s not!
Dad! Mom! Satoshi! Why?! Why did you do that?!
It isn’t true, is it? We talked on the phone about me going home for New Year’s and spending the time together! You said you were both working hard, so I shouldn’t push myself, that I should cut back on my job since the recital was coming up and I should take care of my throat so I didn’t get sick. You said you’d send me the dried persimmons I like so much. That you wanted to see me soon, that it would be wonderful to live together as a family again. That it would be all right definitely someday. You both laughed! You said Satoshi had made friends at his new school and was having fun. That I should keep working on my singing.
So then why?! Satoshi was still in middle school!
I worked so hard so that we could live together.
The first time I met a customer, they told me all I had to do was eat dinner and talk a little, but then they took me to a hotel and did that to me, and I was mortified, scared, hurt; it was awful.
It was like I’d been stained black, and I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes anymore, and whenever I thought of how I would have to keep living in fear, keeping this a secret, it made my head spin, and I wished I could die.
I threw up in the bathroom so many times. I scrubbed at my body with soap and a towel until my skin was raw, but the memory that I did that never faded.
Even so, I’d gotten money. I thought that with that money, Dad wouldn’t have to get beaten up by those loan collectors or have to grovel to them, that we could pay for Satoshi’s school, too.
That was the only thing I could do. I thought it would be okay if I stopped being normal, as long as we could all live together and be happy like before.
There were a lot of gross customers after that, too, and I was really miserable and nauseated, and every day it was like a little sliver was carved away from the edges of myself, and foul-smelling black muck gradually piled up on my body, and I thought I was going to be buried in it, that eventually I would be exposed, and all I could do was flinch.
When there was a story on the news about the arrest of police officers who had engaged underage escorts, Nanase told me, “I can’t believe those girls, either. They’re just sixteen! I’d never be able to do that with someone I didn’t care about.” I thought my heart would stop.
When he held me, it hurt me and I felt guilty, and I accidentally pushed him away and made him sad.
But whenever I think about how I’m doing it for you guys, I can tell myself it’s still okay.
And besides, there was an angel with me. I got to meet an angel.
So even if it was torture, it was fine. I could bear it.
I can’t sing hymns anymore, either!
I can’t believe in
Sweat broke out, soaking the hand that gripped the mouse. Was this really Mito?
There was no denying it—this was an illegal dating service. Had Mito been soliciting men for an underage escort service here? Had she made money by meeting with anonymous hordes of men?
I followed the words on the screen even farther, hunched over the computer intently.
Hobbies: Listening to classical music, shopping
Favorite food: Strawberries
Favorite place to go on a date: Theme park
Favorite author: Miu Inoue
Miu Inoue?!
I felt as if I’d been punched in the head.
Thrust suddenly upon my spirit, which was already strained to its breaking point, the name gave me a shock that bore exponentially more force than usual.
I grew feverish, as if my entire body was engulfed in a blazing fire, and my thoughts came to a complete halt.
Her favorite author was Miu Inoue.
Her name was Camellia.
It had never ended. I was still lying in the alley and had never woken up. What was this nightmare?
It’s not true! It’s not!
Dad! Mom! Satoshi! Why?! Why did you do that?!
It isn’t true, is it? We talked on the phone about me going home for New Year’s and spending the time together! You said you were both working hard, so I shouldn’t push myself, that I should cut back on my job since the recital was coming up and I should take care of my throat so I didn’t get sick. You said you’d send me the dried persimmons I like so much. That you wanted to see me soon, that it would be wonderful to live together as a family again. That it would be all right definitely someday. You both laughed! You said Satoshi had made friends at his new school and was having fun. That I should keep working on my singing.
So then why?! Satoshi was still in middle school!
I worked so hard so that we could live together.
The first time I met a customer, they told me all I had to do was eat dinner and talk a little, but then they took me to a hotel and did that to me, and I was mortified, scared, hurt; it was awful.
It was like I’d been stained black, and I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes anymore, and whenever I thought of how I would have to keep living in fear, keeping this a secret, it made my head spin, and I wished I could die.
I threw up in the bathroom so many times. I scrubbed at my body with soap and a towel until my skin was raw, but the memory that I did that never faded.
Even so, I’d gotten money. I thought that with that money, Dad wouldn’t have to get beaten up by those loan collectors or have to grovel to them, that we could pay for Satoshi’s school, too.
That was the only thing I could do. I thought it would be okay if I stopped being normal, as long as we could all live together and be happy like before.
There were a lot of gross customers after that, too, and I was really miserable and nauseated, and every day it was like a little sliver was carved away from the edges of myself, and foul-smelling black muck gradually piled up on my body, and I thought I was going to be buried in it, that eventually I would be exposed, and all I could do was flinch.
When there was a story on the news about the arrest of police officers who had engaged underage escorts, Nanase told me, “I can’t believe those girls, either. They’re just sixteen! I’d never be able to do that with someone I didn’t care about.” I thought my heart would stop.
When he held me, it hurt me and I felt guilty, and I accidentally pushed him away and made him sad.
But whenever I think about how I’m doing it for you guys, I can tell myself it’s still okay.
And besides, there was an angel with me. I got to meet an angel.
So even if it was torture, it was fine. I could bear it.
I can’t sing hymns anymore, either!
I can’t believe in
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