"Why did this photo fall out? Was it not placed properly before, or was it intentionally tucked inside?"
Curious, Arisu Sakayanagi reached out and picked up the old photograph. Since it had fallen from the photo album mainly filled with pictures of Kotomi, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of scene this aged photo had captured—and why it had been hidden there.
Turning it over to look at the front, Arisu froze.
It was a black-and-white photograph. Not only was the back yellowed with age, but even the front bore patches of discoloration—traces of time etched deeply across its surface.
Fortunately, the image itself was still somewhat clear. The photo depicted two young girls in kimono, sitting together for a portrait.
"This is…"
Arisu's eyes widened as she leaned closer. In the picture, one short-haired girl with white hair sat on a chair, holding a dark, round object in her arms—like a child clutching a toy ball during a photo shoot. Dressed neatly in a formal kimono, she looked almost like a delicate porcelain doll on display.
Beside her stood another girl with long, black hair. Though still very young, her beauty was striking—a face as pure as moonlight reflected on still water, delicate as a watercolor flower blooming upon a tranquil lake. Her hair shimmered, smooth and flowing like strands of silk spun from moonbeams.
Every word that could describe beauty seemed to suit the black-haired girl in the photo.
Yet, a subtle sense of unease crept up from within Arisu's heart. Though she had never met the girl and had no idea who she was, something about the black hair felt wrong—as if that color didn't belong to her. There was another color that would suit her far better—
"Pink…" Arisu murmured unconsciously.
Yes—pink!
If she could, she wanted to dye that black-haired girl's hair pink. Somehow, she knew it would be perfect for her.
It was as though the photo possessed a strange power, compelling anyone who looked at it to imagine the girl with pink hair.
In the old monochrome photograph, only those two kimono-clad girls appeared. Behind them stood what seemed to be an ancient village.
"The girl with short white hair sitting on the chair… she looks so much like Kotomi. And that black egg she's holding—what is it supposed to be? An Easter egg? No, that can't be right. There's no such thing as a pitch-black Easter egg."
Could the short-haired girl in the photo really be Kotomi Izumi?
That question flickered through Arisu's mind—but when she noticed the faintly written date in the lower right corner of the photo, her doubt quickly vanished.
—December 5, 1931. Lunar age 13.4 — Waxing moon.
It was a photograph from the Shōwa era.
Even if the white-haired girl resembled Kotomi, it was impossible. Those two little girls from 1931 would have long since passed away.
Perhaps because of the photo's black-and-white color and the blurring from age, the girl resembled Kotomi yet also didn't.
Still, what puzzled Arisu most was why such an old photo from the Shōwa period would be in Kotomi Izumi's bedroom—and hidden within her childhood photo album.
Though the girls looked adorable, something about the picture felt… off. Maybe it was just the faded quality of the photograph, but staring at it for too long made Arisu feel light-headed. The black-haired girl, in particular, exuded an inexplicable eeriness.
Knock, knock, knock.
Just then—
Someone knocked on the door.
"Little Arisu, are you getting ready for bed?"
It was Harumari Izumi's voice from outside.
Hearing it, Arisu instinctively exhaled in relief. She quickly set the old photo aside and replied, "Grandmother Izumi, I'm not asleep yet. The door's unlocked."
Harumari Izumi opened the door and entered, carrying a cup of warm milk.
"You must be tired after getting off the plane and immediately coming all the way here by car," she said kindly. "So I made you some hot milk. Drink it while it's warm—it'll help you sleep better. I added a few sugar cubes, just the way Kotomi likes it. She says it tastes sweeter that way."
Smiling warmly, Harumari handed the milk to Arisu Sakayanagi.
Arisu accepted it with both hands. The first thing she noticed was that the temperature was perfect. Even though the milk was served in a glass, it wasn't too hot to touch—only pleasantly warm. She could even take a sip without fear of burning her tongue.
"Thank you, Grandmother Izumi."
"It's nothing," Harumari said, her gaze falling on the open album. "Ah… were you looking through the photo album? That album is filled with pictures of Kotomi when she was little. She was such a cute child, and now she's grown into such a beautiful young lady. You know, when you get older, looking at your grandchildren's childhood photos always makes you realize how fast time passes."
"Yes, I was thinking the same thing. I almost want to take this album home and keep it as my own collection."
"Haha, that won't do," Harumari chuckled. "A grandchild's album is a treasure to us grandparents. No amount of money could buy it. Whenever we miss the children, we just take out the album and look at their pictures. But if you ever want to see it, you're always welcome to. From now on, just think of this place as your home."
"I'll definitely come often," Arisu replied. "Next time, I hope I can come together with Kotomi."
"Listening to you say that makes me feel like I might actually live long enough to attend your wedding—and hold my great-grandchildren."
"You definitely will, Grandmother. You and Grandfather are both blessed with long lives."
"You little charmer," Harumari laughed softly. In the family, she had always been known for her warm and cheerful disposition.
"It's getting late. After you finish your milk, get some rest. I won't keep you any longer."
As Harumari stood up, her eyes drifted to the black-and-white photograph lying beside the album. Her expression didn't change, and her tone remained gentle as she asked:
"This photo…"
"Oh, this one?" Arisu said, picking it up. "It just fell out of the album earlier. Strange, isn't it? I didn't expect there to be an old photo from the Shōwa period inside."
She handed the picture to Harumari as she spoke.
Harumari took it, pausing briefly before replying, "Ah, yes… this photo is quite old. It must have accidentally gotten mixed into the wrong album the last time I was sorting through them. Are you done looking at it? If so, I'll take it. I like to organize photos by the era they were taken. I'll just return this one to the proper album."
"Oh, of course, please take it," Arisu said with a nod.
"Good. Then get some sleep soon, dear. Try to be in bed before midnight—young people need proper rest too," Harumari said kindly.
"Goodnight, Grandmother."
Harumari left the room with the photo in hand.
She returned to the living room, where Yakken Izumi was standing quietly in the courtyard, smoking a cigarette.
"What are you thinking about, dear?" Harumari asked as she stepped into the courtyard.
When Yakken saw her, he immediately stubbed out the cigarette and draped his warm cotton haori over her shoulders, his tone carrying both concern and gentle reproach.
"It's not summer anymore—it's nearly winter. Don't come out here at night; you'll catch a chill. You know your health hasn't been as good this year."
Though he scolded her, his voice was full of care.
"Hahaha, don't worry, I'm not that fragile yet," Harumari said with a light laugh. "At the very least, I'll live long enough to see both our granddaughters married—and help take care of our great-grandchildren."
Yakken sighed softly, shaking his head with a faint smile. Taking her hand, he led her gently back inside the house.
"I still need to review a few contracts later. You should head to bed first—don't wait up for me."
"Alright. I'll make you a cup of tea before I go."
"Thank you. Hm? That photo in your hand…" Yakken Izumi noticed the picture Harumari was holding.
"This one?" Harumari said softly. "Yes, it's quite old—the one taken of the two of them back in 1931. It had been tucked away in Kotomi's bedroom album all this time. Earlier, when little Arisu was looking through it, the photo must've fallen out."
As she spoke, Harumari handed the black-and-white photograph to Yakken.
After glancing at it, his expression shifted slightly, followed by a quiet sigh.
"So it's that one…"
"Seeing this photo really does stir up memories," Harumari murmured. "The daughter of the Kushibana family…" She stopped mid-sentence, the sorrow in her eyes melting into a wistful sigh.
"Not long ago," Yakken began, "when I visited the Metropolitan Police Department to speak with the officer in charge of the serial murder cases involving Shikama Shika and Yuuha Isshiki, that same officer asked me about the incident that began in 1931. It seems they're planning to reopen the investigation."
"After all these years, they're going to investigate it again?" Harumari asked quietly.
"Even though it was determined that the mastermind behind the incidents involving Sengetsu Girls' Academy and Prison Doll Village was the Kushibana family head, there were still many unresolved questions. It always felt like that case never truly ended—as if it might start again at any moment. That officer, Yukki Takashi, intends to keep investigating."
"The case… might continue?" Harumari's voice trembled slightly, her eyes showing unease.
"Don't worry," Yakken said reassuringly. "I'll protect you and everyone else. As for the investigation, let the police handle it. Hopefully, they'll uncover the full truth soon—or perhaps sever the tangled thread of obsession that began with the 'Black Egg of the Abyss' and wove its way toward the 'Heavenly Punishment.'"
His calm voice carried a steady strength. After another glance at the old photograph, he said quietly:
"Keep that photo somewhere safe."
"I will," Harumari replied softly.
...
"Kotomi… Kotomi… Kotomi…"
A familiar voice, one she longed for day and night, echoed faintly in her ears.
Kotomi Izumi stirred from her sleep, her heavy eyelids slowly fluttering open. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped. Through the haze of half-dream, she saw a faint pink silhouette sitting atop her.
Bathed in the pale moonlight that seeped through the curtains, the figure before her was half illuminated, half shadow. Threads of soft pink hair shimmered faintly in the light.
Between those delicate locks was a youthful, beautiful face—one Kotomi knew all too well.
"Kazumi…!"
Seeing the girl sitting on top of her—the very same Kazumi who had fallen into slumber before—Kotomi gasped in disbelief. She tried to sound annoyed as she called her name, but the moment she spoke, her voice broke with emotion.
Tears had already begun streaming down her cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath her head.
—
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