The soft morning light filtered through the beige curtains, gently striping Yuki Ayano's bedroom walls. Yuki rose up quietly and brushed the sleep from her eyes, sitting up carefully on her bed. Waiting on the chair behind her desk, her school uniform was navy blue cloth with sharp white stripes across the sleeves and a brilliant red ribbon meticulously knotted at the front.
Dressing attentively, she ironed every crease with her hands to ensure perfection. Her beautiful blonde hair hung freely over her shoulders. She sighed quietly while gazing into the mirror.
"This will not work," she said quietly, shaking her head.
Padding along the corridor, she sensed the calm stillness of the mansion around her. All was quiet and clean. Wearing a lovely grin, she quietly entered the kitchen.
Yuki greeted, "Morning, Papa."
At the kitchen table, her father sat peacefully with his newspaper spread out before him. His spectacles sat low on his nose, and his gray hair was adequately groomed. He murmured without looking up.
"Yuki, anything unique today?"
Smiling at her mother's back, she looked to the sink. Humming a gentle tune, her mother stood softly at the sink washing dishes.
"Good morning, Mama."
"Good morning, dear," her mother murmured gently and quietly.
Yuki remarked, reaching inside the fridge, "My math assignment is due today." I wish to succeed.
Her parents spoke in unison, their voices harmonizing exactly. You will be fantastic. After all, you are our perfect girl.
Yuki chuckled softly and reddened slightly. Thanks. I'll quickly fix my hair and go.
In the bathroom, she combed her hair carefully into a high ponytail. Smiling with delight, she examined her reflection from all angles.
She told herself with confidence, "Today will be great."
Before leaving, she picked up the lavender spray from the bathroom counter and softly misted every room—the bedroom, hallway, kitchen, and living room. She stopped as she passed the clock in the living room.
"Goodness! It's nearly eight. I should rush!"
She quickly grabbed her purse and slid into her shoes by the front entrance.
Yuki called gently, "Mom? Dad?"
Her parents stood peacefully at the front window of the living room, waving gently, their grins serene and pleasant. They remained silent and only waved softly.
Yuki grinned and opened the door, hoping not to bother them. She thought they were waving at the neighbors who had moved in yesterday.
"Mom and Dad, I'll see you later."
She went outside into the morning sun's soothing warmth. Confidently walking into school, her hair swung softly, and she was confident in her heart that it would be a great day.
The hallways were filled with students anxiously rushing past with their papers in hand, lockers banging, and school halls buzzing with conversation. Amidst the chaos, Yuki quietly and gracefully navigated among them.
A loud moan erupted behind her, followed by heavy footsteps. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were swollen. Riko fell forward.
Riko lamented theatrically, "Did you even glance at last night's math assignment? My brain's fried! I was awake until two in the morning."
Yuki chuckled. "Was it that difficult?"
Riko dramatically fell against a locker. "It was impossible! You are not the least bit concerned."
Looking at her tidy notes, Yuki smiled softly. I believe I got it correct, but I'm not sure.
Shaking her head, Riko moaned heavily. "It's not fair how simple everything is for you, I promise."
Yuki just shrugged off and maintained her courteous grin. If only Riko knew, she mused, clutching her books more tightly.
Everyone within the classroom was buzzing nervously, exchanging notes and stressing over their tasks. Near the back, a group of females leaned near and spoke violently.
"Look at her," one snarled, staring at Yuki. "I bet she's going to get a perfect score again."
"Ugh, I know," said another quietly back angrily. "It's as if she was born flawless or something. It's just not fair."
"She should be locked up just for being that pretty," the first girl grumbled.
A group of lads across the room laughed loudly and playfully shoved one another.
One said, "Hey, does Miss Perfect even have a boyfriend?"
Confidently stood a thin lad with spectacles, slumped shoulders, and acne. Guys, I'm going to ask her out.
His buddies instantly seemed appalled.
One spoke loudly, clutching his arm violently, "Kenji, are you insane?" You go blind before you even approach her!
Kenji dismissed their cautions with overblown confidence. "Amateurs, step aside. Allow me to demonstrate how a pro manages things."
Nervously, Kenji walked towards Yuki's desk, his buddies parting. As he approached, Yuki looked in his direction; her beaming grin brightened her face.
"Morning, Igaguri Kenji!" she joyfully welcomed him.
Her flawless white teeth appeared to shine forth, blinding Kenji. He abruptly halted and dramatically covered his eyes.
"No! She's too bright! I-I can't see!" he said humorously, tripping backward and almost toppling down.
His pals found him chuckling and shaking their heads.
One yelled, "We told you, man!"
Rubbing his eyes, Kenji whined jokingly, "Sorry, fellas." Her grin was incredible. She must be some angel.
Riko stretched and yawned as she walked up to Yuki desk, looking exhausted.
"I did some of the math assignment," she sighed, "but I'm nowhere near done. I'm so screwed."
Yuki gently laughed and gave her notes.
"Here, please make use of my own. After all, we are besties."
Riko fell to her knees. "Yuki Ayano, you angel! I don't know what I'd do without you!"
The classroom door opened violently before she could grab the notes. Their instructor entered, gaze piercing and harsh.
Everyone sits down. Now, let's gather your math homework.
Riko's optimistic look changed immediately to sadness, and tears began to form in her eyes.
Yuki chuckled softly, "Good luck."
Riko looked at her in feigned betrayal. Dramatically whispering, "I hate you," she thudded her head upon the desk.
When Miss Nishimura stood at the front of the class clutching the amended math papers, one hour had gone. Names were called out one by one. As students gathered their papers, quiet cheers and sad sighs permeated the classroom.
Seeing her paper, Riko fell forward and gripped it hard as though it might bite her.
"Twenty percent? I'm so doomed," Riko said dejectedly.
Then Yuki Ayano's name appeared. The room immediately became silent as everyone observed Yuki rising quietly from her chair. Politely taking the paper, she moved elegantly to Miss Nishimura.
Miss Nishimura remarked gently, seeming somewhat worried, "Another flawless score, Yuki Ayano. Well done.
Whispers started to travel fast around the class. Some girls grumbled angrily, rolling their eyes.
"Naturally, Miss Perfect once more," one girl spat.
Another grumbled, her voice laced with envy, "She believes she is superior to all others."
"She's such a show-off," another person said quietly so Yuki could hear.
Holding her courteous grin, Yuki did her best to disregard the comments. She bowed a little.
"Thanks, Miss Nishimura."
Miss Nishimura softly touched Yuki's shoulder as she returned to her seat.
The instructor said quietly, "Could you remain behind for a moment after class?"
Yuki suddenly felt the lesson, looking at her even more strongly. From across the room, she noticed Riko's inquisitive look and gently nodded.
Yuki said softly, "Of course," maintaining her composure as she sat back down.
The classroom rapidly cleared when the departure bell rang, full of laughing, conversation, and relieved sighs. Yuki sat calmly at her desk, pretending to concentrate on the tidy lines of her notepad. Her pulse started to race a little.
Miss Nishimura carefully approached her, arms folded softly, with a gentle yet reflective look. The instructor was a young lady who always conducted herself boldly. Her matching black trousers and no tie were crisp black outfits. Her rectangular spectacles fit exactly on her nose, giving her an authoritative appearance, as if she controlled the area. Her shape was apparent and usually made the class females silently envious.
Speaking gently, Miss Nishimura paused next to Yuki's desk.
"Yuki, everything is outstanding—your grades, your conduct. You amaze me."
Yuki raised her gaze to say thank you quietly.
"But," Miss Nishimura said softly, still selecting her words, "I haven't had the opportunity to meet your parents. They haven't gone to any school events or meetings." Are they good?
Yuki's fingers clutched the desk's edge as she felt an unexpected tightness in her chest. Maintaining a calm and courteous tone, she quickly gathered herself.
"They're busy. Our timetables don't fit well."
Miss Nishimura stopped, perhaps considering Yuki's reaction. Her look became softer, and her eyes filled with mild worry.
"I get it. But Yuki, my door is always open if you ever need assistance—anything at all."
Yuki rose slowly, her movement elegant yet restrained. She bowed politely and slightly.
"Thank you, Miss Nishimura. I value it."
Hoping no more inquiries would follow her, she swiftly turned and exited the classroom.
When Yuki Ayano walked home, the sun was low, and the sky was orange. Her heart warmed at the familiar view, so every footstep felt lighter as she was near her home. Calm, friendly grins, her parents waved warmly from the front window. Her pout soon gave way to joy.
Rushing towards the home, she shouted, "Mom! Dad! I'm coming!"
But behind her, Miss Nishimura remained at a distance, quietly following out of worry. Her eyes opened as she approached, and a flood of anxiety swept over her. The home was not how Yuki appeared to view it. Instead, it was dirty, with greasy marks on the walls and ceiling and heavy muck. Ugly graffiti written on it yelled terrible words—cruel profanities flashing out in the fading sunshine.
Stepping closer and climbing gently over the fence to gain a good glimpse, Miss Nishimura's breath raced. What she saw in the glass caused her to pause in shock. Propped up within the window, two dolls' arms lifted rigidly as if permanently waving: one clothed as a man in a suit, the other as a woman in an apron.
Her heart thumped in her ears.
"Did Yuki refer to these dolls as Mom and Dad?"
Yuki entered, yelling again, "Mom, Dad, I'm home!" through the door.
A firm tap on the door caught her off guard and made her heart race. Eyes wide and wary, she turned.
"Yuki?" Miss Nishimura, her instructor, remarked softly yet firmly. "Please open the door."
Yuki took a deep breath and opened the door carefully, pushing a pleasant grin on her face. "Miss Nishimura, oh! It's you."
Miss Nishimura smiled nervously, obviously attempting to be casual. "I was just passing by and saw you go into your house, so I thought I'd stop to say hello. If it's all right, I could also say hello to your parents to see how they are."
Yuki's grin faded a little as her voice became softer. "They're resting now. I don't know whether they are free.
With her eyes brimming with calm worry, Miss Nishimura slowly leaned forward. If possible, just for a moment."
Miss Nishimura steadily walked closer, gaze roving the room, before Yuki could object anymore. The worn-out wallpaper, the low flickering lights, and the pungent smell flooded her senses. Her eyes fell on the garbage bag leaning in the corner, black liquid oozing over the floor. Her face grew more concerned.
Yuki's voice was soft and unsure, and she managed a little, weak grin. "Miss Nishimura, I'll show you where they are now, Miss Nishimura."
Miss Nishimura gulped, her heart racing with worry. Nervously, her gaze flitted over the house's condition: the peeling wallpaper, the filthy walls, and the odd, disturbing mood.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice strained with concern.
They walked along the dark corridor. Every footfall reverberated softly, accentuating the developing thick quiet between them. The corridor is divided into two bedrooms. Yuki gently opened the door to the right-hand room.
Her voice was unexpectedly cheerful but shaky as she entered. "Mom, Dad, my instructor asked for you. She wanted to see how you two were doing."
Standing at the entrance, Miss Nishimura's heart sank as she couldn't believe her eyes. The stuffy, dense air had a sharp odor that turned her stomach. Surrounded by rubbish and shattered glass, two pallid bodies lay still under torn and discolored blankets. From their lifeless arms, medical tubes ran to devices flickering quietly, creating an unsettling buzz throughout the room. Though open, their eyes were empty, lost far away.
The absolute terror, however, was Yuki herself.
Ignoring the ailing bodies, she advanced toward two porcelain dolls pushed next to the bedside table. Smiling softly, the dolls' arms bent in a quiet wave. With shaking fingers, Yuki stretched out and gently touched them.
Nervously chuckling, she said, "Mama, Papa... stop joking around. Miss Nishimura is not here to inform you that my math project was unsuccessful."
Watching Miss Nishimura's thoughts race frantically, unable to move, her breath seized abruptly. While her parents lay neglected and decaying in a bed strewn with trash, Yuki was talking to the dolls as though they were alive. Struggling to control the need to puke, the instructor put her palm to her lips.
Yuki went on softly, her voice quivering, "They wave to me every morning." They're constantly right there in the window. They appear cheerful. I wanted things to remain the same, Miss Nishimura. Merely a little longer.
Miss Nishimura gently replied, her voice shaking passionately, "You don't have to keep doing this."
Yuki said, her voice protective but weak, "I'm not doing anything wrong."
They are not—
Yuki's voice broke a little. "I spray the lavender. I open the curtains. I clean. They wave me farewell as I depart." "It's… normal."
"It's not," Miss Nishimura said gently but firmly.
"I didn't want anyone to know," Yuki whispered, her voice barely audible.
"You don't have to carry this alone."
"I wasn't going to tell anyone."
A long, tense pause stretched between them, filled only by the rhythmic, mechanical breaths of the machines.
"But you let me in, didn't you?" Miss Nishimura said softly.
"I didn't mean to." Yuki's voice trembled heavily.
"But you did."
"I thought if I could keep it going… if I smiled enough… if I just tried harder…" Yuki's voice finally broke, tears spilling down her cheeks. "They needed me."
"And you need someone too."
"They can't walk. They can't speak. But they're still my family. I'm-I'm a horrible daughter, aren't I?" Yuki choked, her voice thick with grief.
"No, don't say that."
"I didn't want you to see all this."
"I know."
"I didn't want you to look at me like I'm broken."
"I don't."
"You will."
"I'm still here, aren't I?" Miss Nishimura whispered, taking a careful step closer.
Silence wrapped around the room heavily, offering no comfort, only a suffocating weight. The machines continued their slow, mechanical breathing. The dolls kept smiling, oblivious and unchanged.
Then Yuki broke.
Her emotions burst forth uncontrollably. She clung desperately to Miss Nishimura's sleeve, sobbing openly, eyes blurred with unstoppable tears.
"I just wanted to be perfect," she whispered brokenly through her tears.
Miss Nishimura said nothing, gently placing a comforting hand on Yuki's shoulder. She didn't move away or pull back.
In that quiet moment, she knew the perfect girl was gone.
But standing before her was someone honest, someone who desperately needed help and was finally ready to receive it.