Chapter 1 – White Light
"My emotions sank... I tried to smile."
I woke up, not knowing how long I had been asleep. Around me stretched an endless darkness—silent and all-encompassing. I tried to move, but my body seemed to float in nothingness, never touching the ground.
Then, a faint white light appeared from somewhere far away—dim at first, then gradually brighter. In front of me, a girl appeared. Her figure was hazy, like a shadow caught between dream and reality. Her voice echoed softly, long and lingering, like the toll of a bell through the mist:
— "There you are... I've been looking for you for so long…"
Memories surged back—time, pain, faces—all flooding my mind at once. The pain became unbearable, forcing me to gasp for breath. I wanted to scream, but only silence escaped my lips. I didn't resist; I simply let it happen—each fragment of memory returning, heavy with sorrow and loneliness.
The white light flickered around the girl, making her figure tremble, as if she had just stepped out of a distant dream. I could feel her presence—both familiar and foreign, warm yet cold—and in that instant, I understood... this wasn't just a dream.
Now I remember everything.Humochio. That's my name.
I was orphaned at a young age and grew up in an orphanage. Life there passed quietly; I had lived there for five years and was well-liked for being gentle and obedient.
One day, a woman came to adopt me. I was terrified. She didn't seem cruel or harsh, but there was something strange about her—a sense of unease that gripped me from the first glance.
When she smiled and took my hand, leading me away, I turned to look at the people who had raised me, hoping for one last comforting look, or even a goodbye smile. But no—they turned away, busy with the other children, indifferent.
I turned back, quickened my steps, and left the damp, crumbling orphanage behind.
I sat in her car seat. A strange, unpleasant smell hit my nose—it was the first time I truly understood what carsickness felt like. People often said riding in a car was fun, even exciting, but to me, it was suffocating and nauseating—nothing like the faint musty smell of the bed I used to sleep in.
When we arrived at her home, she showed me a framed family photo. I froze the moment I realized why she had adopted me.
The picture showed three people. She told me she had two daughters. Everything seemed normal... if not for the older daughter in the photo.
She looked almost identical to me—eight parts out of ten. And she had died in an accident. My eyes wandered around the living room until they rested on a small altar, where her photo sat quietly above an incense burner.
My emotions sank... I tried to smile.
I used to dream of having a mother and siblings, of going to school, having friends, being loved. But that was just a foolish dream.
My foster sister openly despised me. She did everything she could to make my life miserable. I didn't fight back, didn't cry, and never told our foster mother. Because if I cried or resisted, her cruelty would only get worse. So, I stayed silent.
At the orphanage, I had been bullied many times before, so I already knew how things would go. I once saw a child tell the caretaker about being bullied—and all they received in return was cold indifference.
Eventually, my foster mother discovered her daughter's behavior. At first, she protected me. But later, she turned a blind eye and let her daughter do as she pleased.
When I was sixteen, during one of her fits of rage, my sister tried to cut my hair with scissors. I tried to stop her, and she accidentally got hurt. Furious, she stabbed the scissors straight into my right eye.
Pain struck, and the world before me went black.
When I opened my eyes again... I was somewhere I didn't recognize.
I stared at the girl's blurry figure. After confirming that I had regained my memories, she spoke again—the same echoing, resonant voice:
"We are both Humochio. It's just a name. What do you think about starting a new life?"
I was silent. The dull ache in my right eye pulsed softly. I didn't think anything at all.All I wanted now... was to sleep. Forever. I didn't want to think anymore.
"I'm already dead," the girl said gently."I want you to take my place—to live my life. You'll have a family, go to school... just as you've always wished."
"Take your place?" I muttered, my voice distant and hollow."Are you mocking me? I don't even know who your family is. Whoever they are, it doesn't concern me.You're selfish... you just want your life to feel complete."
"I want this to be good for both of us," she persisted. "I'm already dead—I can't feel life anymore. I just want you to know what it means to be loved."
"We're not the same," I said, my voice trembling, on the verge of tears."We're different—in how we think, in how we feel. Let me live the way I want. Please... just let me be. We're two different souls. Why me? Couldn't you ask someone else?"
"No!" she shouted. "What do you know about me? We're the same, you and I!"
"The same?" I whispered."I died because I was hated. No one cared. You had a family—people who loved you. The only thing we share... is that we both died young."
We stared at each other. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered,"Do whatever you want... I'm tired."
The moment those words left my lips, the white light flared, flooding the endless darkness around us.
Then—I opened my eyes.
I was lying on a bed, the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air. Suddenly, a scream shattered the silence:
"Sister!"