The alarm rang before dawn.
My eyes opened almost immediately.
Not because I had slept well.
Because sleeping in was a luxury I couldn't afford.
I slowly pushed the blanket aside and sat up.
The moment I did, a sharp pain shot through my ribs.
"..."
Right.
Last night.
I stayed still for a few seconds before lifting the edge of my shirt.
The bruises had become darker overnight.
Purple.
Blue.
Some were almost black.
Finger-shaped marks remained on my upper arm where my father had grabbed me.
A long bruise stretched across my side from where he'd kicked me after I fell.
"..Looks worse today…"
I didn't sound upset.
Just... observant.
I quietly got off the bed and walked toward the tiny first-aid box hidden beneath it.
It was old.
The corners were cracked.
Inside were only a few bandages, a nearly empty tube of ointment, and a bottle of antiseptic.
I opened the antiseptic first.
The smell was strong enough to make me wrinkle my nose.
I soaked a small piece of cotton before gently pressing it against one of the cuts.
"...Ah..."
The sting spread immediately.
My fingers instinctively pulled away.
I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to settle before trying again.
One by one...
I cleaned every scrape.
Every bruise.
Every little cut.
Each touch hurt.
But I never cried.
Not because I was strong.
Because nobody would come even if I did.
After covering the visible injuries with small bandages, I lowered my uniform shirt back into place.
The bruises disappeared beneath the fabric.
I buttoned my shirt carefully.
Straightened my collar.
Adjusted my ribbon.
Then stood in front of the mirror.
The girl looking back at me looked...
Normal.
At least from the neck up.
Only the faint dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed how tired she really was.
I practiced smiling.
It looked strange.
So I stopped.
"...Good enough."
***
I quietly walked downstairs.
The smell of breakfast drifted through the kitchen.
For just a second...
Hope appeared.
Maybe today would be different.
Maybe Mom had made enough food for all of us.
She stood in front of the stove, humming quietly while stirring something in a pan.
"...Good morning."
She didn't answer.
I waited.
"...Is breakfast ready?"
Without turning around, she opened a cabinet.
Reached inside.
Grabbed a tiny plastic container.
Then casually tossed it across the table.
It slid toward me before stopping.
"Natto."
That was all she said.
I looked at the container.
One tiny box.
No rice.
No soup.
No eggs.
Nothing else.
"...Thank you."
I quietly sat down anyway.
I peeled back the lid.
Mixed the natto with my chopsticks until the sticky strings formed.
Then slowly ate it.
One bite.
Two bites.
Three.
Gone.
I looked at the empty container.
My stomach growled immediately.
"..."
Still hungry.
Very hungry.
But asking for more wasn't worth it.
I quietly threw the container away.
"I'm leaving."
My mother finally spoke.
"Don't be late."
"...Okay."
Not "Have a good day."
Not "Be careful."
Just...
"Don't be late."
***
The walk to school was quiet.
The morning breeze brushed against my face.
Normally people would probably find it refreshing.
For me...
It only made the empty feeling in my stomach more noticeable.
Students were already arriving when I reached the school gates.
Groups laughed together.
Friends greeted one another.
Some shared snacks.
Others complained about homework.
I quietly walked past all of them.
Alone.
Like always.
***
First period.
Japanese.
Second period.
Science.
Everything remained unusually peaceful.
Almost peaceful enough to make me believe yesterday had been the worst of it.
I should've known better.
During third period, our math teacher finished explaining a problem before clapping his hands.
"Everyone, hand in yesterday's homework."
I immediately reached into my bag.
I had spent almost three hours finishing it.
Every answer checked.
Every line neat.
I carefully placed it onto the teacher's desk with everyone else's before returning to my seat.
The teacher began sorting through the stack.
One paper after another.
Then he frowned.
"...Naoko."
I stood immediately.
"...Yes?"
"Where's your homework?"
I blinked.
"...I handed it in."
"No."
He shook his head.
"You didn't."
"...I did."
The classroom grew quieter.
"I placed it on your desk."
The teacher searched through the pile again.
Nothing.
He sighed dramatically.
"Naoko."
His voice carried throughout the room.
"Lying won't solve anything."
"I'm not lying."
Several students snickered.
The teacher looked irritated.
"Then explain why your homework isn't here."
I couldn't.
Because I didn't know.
I looked around the classroom.
Then noticed the girl sitting two rows away.
She was whispering to her friend.
Trying very hard not to laugh.
Something white peeked out from beneath her notebook.
My homework.
She had hidden it.
I knew it.
She knew it.
Her friend knew it.
But nobody else cared enough to notice.
"...Someone..."
I whispered.
The teacher frowned.
"What?"
"...Nothing."
Because even if I told him...
Would he believe me?
No.
He'd probably call it another excuse.
"Stay after school."
My heart sank.
"And rewrite the entire assignment."
"...Yes, sir."
The classroom immediately filled with quiet laughter.
One boy leaned toward another.
"I told you she'd forget."
Another whispered loudly enough for me to hear.
"She's so dumb."
The girl who had taken my homework smiled.
A small smile.
Satisfied.
I quietly sat back down.
I didn't look at her again.
***
Lunch arrived.
Students rushed outside almost instantly.
The classroom became nearly empty.
I reached into my bag.
Nothing.
Of course.
There wasn't any lunch today.
I quietly pulled out my science textbook instead.
If I couldn't eat...
At least I could study.
Maybe someday...
It would matter.
I began copying notes into my notebook.
Carefully.
Neatly.
Word after word.
Then voices entered the classroom.
"...Seriously?"
I already recognized them.
The bullies.
One of them walked behind me and peeked over my shoulder.
"Eww."
"She's studying."
Another laughed.
"Who studies during lunch?"
"Maybe she thinks books will become her friends."
They all laughed.
I kept writing.
Ignoring them.
One girl suddenly reached over my shoulder.
Before I could react-
She slammed my notebook shut.
SMACK.
My pencil snapped beneath my hand.
"..."
She smiled brightly.
"Oops."
Her friends burst into laughter.
"Sorry."
She didn't sound sorry at all.
"You can keep studying now."
She walked away giggling.
Another girl picked up my broken pencil.
Turned it between her fingers.
"...You know..."
She smiled.
"If you spent half as much time making friends as you do studying..."
She snapped the pencil clean in half.
"...Maybe you wouldn't eat lunch alone."
The broken pieces landed on my desk.
The girls laughed as they walked away.
One of them looked back.
"Oh..."
She smiled sweetly.
"Don't forget. We're excited to see what happens tomorrow."
The classroom became quiet again.
I stared at the broken pencil.
Then quietly reached into my bag.
Pulled out another one.
And continued writing.
As if nothing had happened.
***
The final bell finally rang.
Students rushed out of the school building.
Some waved goodbye to friends.
Some made plans for the weekend.
Others complained about homework.
I quietly walked home.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
By the time I reached my house, the sun had already begun setting.
The warm orange light stretched across the front door.
I reached for the handle.
Then…
"...She's fourteen already."
My father's voice.
I froze.
My hand stopped inches from the doorknob.
"...We'll get a better price if we don't wait much longer," my mother replied.
My heart skipped.
"...Did you contact them?"
"They're interested."
Interested?
In... what?
"They asked for photos first."
My breathing became uneven.
"They'll come themselves if everything looks good."
"I don't want them changing their minds."
"They won't."
A short silence followed.
Then my father chuckled.
"It's not like we've ever wanted her anyway."
Both of them laughed.
My fingers slowly slipped away from the doorknob.
"...Should we tell her?"
My mother laughed this time.
"Tell her? As if she has a choice."
More laughter.
"If she cries, just lock her in the room until they arrive."
"She'll stop eventually."
"She always does."
Something inside me shattered.
No...
No...
They weren't talking about...
Me.
Were they?
My legs suddenly felt weak.
The bag hanging from my arm slowly slipped lower.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
I couldn't move.
They...were selling me.
Not sending me away.
Not putting me up for adoption.
Selling me.
Like furniture.
Like an old television.
Like I wasn't even human.
My own parents...
They were discussing my price…
I quickly covered my mouth before a sob escaped.
My entire body trembled uncontrollably.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted someone…
Anyone…
To tell me I had heard wrong.
But deep down...
I already knew.
Because for the first time...
Everything finally made sense.
Why they never looked at me with love.
Why they never cared if I came home crying.
Why every bruise...
Every insult...
Every beating...
Had never made them feel guilty.
To them...
I had never been their daughter.
I had only ever been something they could get rid of.
And now...
They had finally found a buyer.
My body moved before my mind could.
The front door burst open.
"B-Please...!"
Both of them looked toward me.
For a brief second...
Neither of them said anything.
I stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold onto my school bag.
"...P-please don't sell m-me…"
Silence.
"...Mom..."
I looked at her first.
"I-I'll be good."
Then at my father.
"…I-I'll listen to everything you say…"
My voice cracked.
"…I won't complain anymore…!"
My knees slowly gave out.
I dropped onto the floor.
"…I'll clean the house…cook… study harder….I'll stop being a burden…I'll…I'll do anything...!"
My forehead nearly touched the floor as tears began falling uncontrollably.
"So..."
I couldn't even finish the sentence.
"...Please d-don't sell me."
For a few seconds...
The house was completely silent.
Then…
"...Pfft."
A laugh.
Then another.
Then both of them burst into laughter.
Loud.
Uncontrollable.
As if I had just told the funniest joke in the world.
My father held his stomach.
"Hahaha! Did you hear that?!"
My mother wiped a fake tear from her eye.
"'Please don't sell me!'"
She copied my trembling voice perfectly.
Then laughed even harder.
"Oh my God..."
My father looked at me with a grin.
"You actually believed us."
I stared at them.
"..."
"You've got quite the imagination."
"But..."
"You thought we were serious?" my mother asked between laughs.
I slowly nodded.
"...I..."
They laughed again.
Harder this time.
My father's smile slowly disappeared.
His face became cold.
"You know what your problem is?"
I flinched.
"You're an embarrassment. You come home crying, wasting our money. You can't even buy groceries properly. And now..."
He stepped closer.
"...You're spying on us."
"I-I wasn't spying...I just came home..."
"You interrupted our conversation."
"I didn't mean to..."
My mother crossed her arms.
"You're always causing trouble."
"I'm sorry..."
"Sorry?"
She scoffed.
"That's the only word you know."
I quickly wiped my tears away.
"I-I can change."
"Oh?"
My father tilted his head.
"How?"
"I..."
I desperately searched for something.
"May...Maybe if you teach me..."
The sentence slipped out before I could think.
"I'll become someone you'll be proud of."
Silence.
I looked at both of them.
"...Please…I just... I want you to love me."
The words escaped on their own.
I hadn't planned to say them.
I didn't even realize I'd been thinking them.
The room fell quiet.
For one tiny moment...
Nobody moved.
Then my father's expression changed.
He smiled.
A gentle smile.
One I hadn't seen in years.
He slowly walked toward me.
"...Naoko."
His voice softened.
It sounded...
Warm.
I looked up.
"...Y-Yes?"
He crouched in front of me.
"...You're such a silly girl."
My eyes widened.
"...D-dad?"
He placed one hand gently on my shoulder.
"It's okay."
My breathing stopped.
"We were only joking."
Everything around me became quiet.
"...H-Huh?"
He nodded.
"Of course… We're your parents."
My eyes slowly filled with tears again.
Not from fear.
From relief.
"...R-Really?"
A small laugh escaped me.
"...I thought...I thought you really hated me..."
He smiled.
For just a second...
I actually believed him.
Maybe...
Maybe everything was okay.
Maybe...
I still had a family.
Then-
His hand suddenly grabbed the front of my uniform.
Hard.
Before I could react—
I was lifted completely off the floor.
"W-What—?!"
His smile vanished instantly.
His face twisted with rage.
"AS IF I'D EVER SAY THAT!"
His scream shook the entire house.
I gasped as he yanked me closer.
"You actually believed me?!"
The next second…
He threw me.
My back slammed violently into the wall.
CRASH
Pain exploded through my entire body.
The air was knocked from my lungs.
"...Agh...!"
I collapsed onto the floor, coughing desperately as tears streamed down my face.
Everything hurt.
My back.
My ribs.
My shoulder.
Even breathing felt painful.
Above me was…
Laughter.
My father laughed.
My mother joined him.
The same laughter.
The same mocking voices.
The same people who were supposed to protect me.
"You should've seen your face!"
My father wiped tears from his own eyes.
"She really believed me!"
My mother laughed so hard she had to hold onto the table.
"'I thought you loved me!'"
She mimicked my voice cruelly.
Both of them burst into another fit of laughter.
I curled into myself.
Trying to make myself smaller.
Trying to disappear.
"...Please..."
My voice was barely audible.
"I don't want to be sold..."
"Oh, enough already."
My mother sighed in annoyance.
"She's still crying."
"She's giving me a headache," my father muttered.
He walked toward me again.
I instinctively crawled backward.
"N-No..."
"Stand up."
I shook my head.
"...No."
"I said stand up."
"...I don't want to..."
His eyebrow twitched.
"...What?"
"I..."
I hugged myself tightly.
"...I'm not going."
Silence.
Then…
"You little brat."
He grabbed my wrist so hard it felt like it might snap.
"Ow...!"
He ignored my cry completely.
"No!"
I struggled desperately.
"Please! I-I don't want to…!"
"I said MOVE!"
He dragged me across the floor.
My socks scraped helplessly against it.
I grabbed the edge of a table.
He pulled harder.
My fingers slipped.
"No! Mom! Please help me!"
She didn't even look up from washing the dishes.
"Stop making so much noise."
My father's grip tightened even more.
He dragged me up the stairs while I cried and begged.
Every step hurt.
Every attempt to pull away only made him squeeze harder.
When we reached my bedroom, he threw the door open.
"Get inside."
I shook my head violently.
"No..."
"I said GET IN."
"I don't want to! I don't want them to take me!"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he shoved me forward.
I stumbled into the room and fell onto the floor.
Before I could get back up—
SLAM
The bedroom door shut.
Click.
The lock turned.
I immediately scrambled to the door.
"Dad!"
I pounded on it desperately.
"Please! I'll be good! I promise! I'll do anything! ...Please don't lock me in here!"
No answer.
I kept pounding.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until my fists started hurting.
"...Please..."
My voice became smaller.
"...Please don't sell me..."
Only silence answered.
On the other side of the door...
I could hear them laughing again.
***
I don't know how long I stayed there.
Minutes.
Maybe hours.
Time didn't feel real anymore.
I slowly lowered myself onto the floor, my back resting against the bedroom door.
The floor was cold.
I pulled my knees toward my chest and wrapped both arms around them.
The room was completely silent.
Except for me.
I could still hear my own shaky breathing.
"..."
They were really going to do it.
They weren't joking.
They weren't trying to scare me.
They were actually going to sell me.
The thought replayed in my head over and over until it stopped feeling like a thought at all.
It simply became reality.
I buried my face into my knees.
"...Why...?"
My voice came out as nothing more than a whisper.
"..What did I do wrong...?"
No answer.
There never was.
The sunlight outside my window slowly faded.
The room grew darker.
Eventually...
I stopped crying.
Not because I felt better.
Because I didn't have any tears left.
I just sat there.
Curled into the smallest ball I could make.
Almost wishing I'd disappear if I stayed quiet enough.
Then…
Voices.
I froze.
They weren't my parents'.
There were more of them.
Deep voices.
Adult men.
They were downstairs.
Talking.
Laughing.
The blood drained from my face.
No...
No...
They were here.
I quickly crawled backward until my back hit the wall.
My breathing became uneven again.
"...Please..."
Footsteps.
Heavy footsteps.
They climbed the stairs one step at a time.
Each sound made my heart pound harder.
Then they stopped outside my door.
The lock clicked.
My entire body stiffened.
The door slowly opened.
My father stood there.
"...Come on."
His voice was flat.
Like he was telling me dinner was ready.
I didn't move.
"...No."
He sighed.
"Don't make this difficult."
I shook my head violently.
"No... I don't want to go…"
He stepped into the room.
"I said come."
"I DON'T WANT TO…!"
For the first time in a long while...
I shouted.
Not because I was brave.
Because I was terrified.
He frowned.
"...Fine."
He grabbed my wrist.
Hard.
"Ow-!"
I tried pulling away.
"Kicking and screaming won't change anything."
"It hurts!"
"I don't care."
He dragged me out of the room anyway.
I stumbled across the hallway, barely able to keep my balance.
When we reached the stairs, I looked down.
Two men stood in the entrance.
Both looked old enough to be my grandfather.
One was tall and painfully thin.
The other was shorter, heavyset, and wore a smile that immediately made my skin crawl.
They looked at me.
Not like a person.
Like...
They were inspecting something.
The larger man chuckled.
"So that's the girl?"
My father nodded casually.
"Mhm."
"She's smaller than I expected."
"She's fourteen."
The skinny man smiled.
"Perfect."
I felt sick.
"...Dad...!"
He ignored me.
The heavier man stepped forward.
"I'll take her."
"No!"
I immediately hid behind my father without thinking.
"Dad, please! I'll do anything! J-just please don't let them take me!"
He looked down at me.
His expression never changed.
"...You're embarrassing."
Then he shoved me toward the two men.
They grabbed both of my arms before I could run.
"Let go!"
I struggled desperately.
"Please!"
"Mom!"
I looked toward the living room.
My mother sat at the table.
Stacks of money lay in front of her.
She quietly counted each bill one by one.
"...One... two... three..."
As if nothing else existed.
"...Mom!"
She didn't look up.
"Please! I'm scared!...Mom...Please look at me!"
Nothing.
Not even once.
She continued counting.
"...Thirty-eight... thirty-nine..."
I stopped struggling for just a second.
She...
She wasn't even watching me leave.
To her...
I was already gone.
The men dragged me outside.
"No!"
I kicked wildly.
"Please! I don't want to go!"
One of them clicked his tongue.
"Kid."
He tightened his grip.
"Be quiet."
"I won't!"
"I said be quiet."
"I SAID LET GO!"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Then I froze.
...
Before I could think any further, they opened the back door of a black van.
One of them shoved me inside.
I stumbled forward—
"...!"
There was someone else.
A girl.
She looked older than me.
Maybe sixteen.
Maybe seventeen.
Long brown hair.
Tired eyes.
Her wrists had faint bruises.
She quietly looked at me.
Then gave me a small smile.
One that looked forced.
The two men climbed into the front seats.
The engine started.
The van slowly pulled away.
I immediately rushed toward the window.
"...Mom...!"
The house grew smaller.
Smaller.
Then disappeared completely.
I never even got a goodbye.
The tears returned almost immediately.
"Please..."
I whispered.
"I don't want this..."
I covered my face with both hands.
"...Please..."
The older girl quietly watched me.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then...
I felt something warm.
A hand.
She had gently taken mine.
I looked up.
She smiled again.
This time...
It looked a little more genuine.
"...It's okay, kid."
Her voice was soft.
"I'm here with you."
I stared at her.
"..."
She squeezed my hand gently.
"You don't have to be alone."
"...W-who..."
"My name doesn't matter."
She looked toward the passing trees outside.
"Just stay close to me."
"...O-Okay..."
I didn't know why.
But...
Her hand made me feel a little less afraid.
The drive continued in silence.
Buildings slowly disappeared.
Roads became narrower.
Streetlights vanished.
Eventually...
All I could see outside were trees.
An endless forest.
The sunlight barely reached the ground beneath them.
Everything felt... isolated.
The van continued deeper and deeper until I completely lost track of where we were.
Finally...
It slowed.
The tires crunched over gravel before coming to a stop.
The doors opened.
The cold forest air rushed inside.
One of the men stepped out first before opening the back door.
"...Alright."
He grinned.
"Out."
The older girl slowly stood.
I followed.
The moment my feet touched the ground, I looked up.
A huge old mansion stood in front of us.
Its paint had almost completely peeled away.
Most of the windows were boarded shut.
The iron gate surrounding the property was rusted.
The entire place looked abandoned.
Yet...
Someone clearly lived there.
The heavier man whistled as he looked at us.
"...These girls are pretty."
The skinny man laughed.
"They'll make someone very happy."
The older girl's hand tightened around mine.
I looked at her.
Her smile was gone.
Completely.
Slowly...
She shook her head.
Just once.
My heart dropped.
I finally understood.
They weren't taking us somewhere.
They were delivering us.
And whatever waited beyond those doors...
Neither of us wanted to find out.