Warning

This content may contain sensitive material that could be triggering for some individuals. Please be aware of this before reading. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. If you need help, please contact your local support services or mental health professionals for assistance.

Meredith, or, Miru's ability to maintain composure and politeness, despite her circumstances, was uncommon.

"Hope" and the desire for a different life began to take root in Miru's mind when Watari discovered her in her first orphanage.

She noticed his hands extending towards her, and as she looked up, her eyes met the gaze of the stranger. The man, in his mid-fifties, had warm grey eyes that possessed depth, yet unlike her inscrutable nature, they instantly conveyed a sense of trust. They held a spark that seemed to illuminate the darkness that had consumed her for far too long, leaving her uncertain of how to react.

And then, Watari spoke in Japanese, with the gentlest tone she had ever heard in her life.

「お名前は何ですか?」(What is your name?)

「七海咲来です。」(Nanami Miru.)

The language was something she was so familiar with. In her current orphanage, no one could speak Japanese, but it didn't bother her much since she only spoke the language at home. However, encountering someone who could speak it created a sense of closeness within her. She gazed back at the man before her, wondering if he could be the person she could trust. It was something she had never encountered before, and it took time for her to process the sincerity reflected in Watari's gaze.

As Watari attended to the legal affairs of her past and gently held her hand, guiding her out of the court, it felt as if he had reassured her of safety and protection within his grip. With her hands tightly gripping Watari's in return, a deep longing for care and a glimmer of hope emerged, much like a sunbeam piercing through the clouds on a gloomy day.

In that moment, she vowed to herself that she would never look back.

But that alone couldn't disperse the impending storm. Her past loomed like an ominous cloud, saturating the air with an unsettling humidity. What Watari knew about her was merely the tip of the iceberg, with the depths of her experiences remaining hidden beneath the surface, known only to her.

Within the confines of that room, enveloped in the embrace of L's arms, the long-awaited rain finally arrived. The downpour washed away the mask of her reserved nature, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath. However, like the aftermath of a tempest, the sky wouldn't clear immediately.

Would there ever be a day when the skies would truly clear? Was shedding the mask the key to beginning the healing process? She wasn't certain. Yet, without it, she couldn't bear to confront herself.

Beneath the mask, she glimpsed only cowardice, emptiness, and ruthlessness.

March, 1988. Around one year before Meredith went to Wammy's House.

Sitting on the seashore, she allowed the sea breeze to gently caress her face and hair, while the waves relentlessly crashed onto the rocky coast, sending specks of spray flying in every direction. The air was chilly, but it did little to bother her. The overcast sky with heavy clouds looming low overhead gave no indication of the time of day, and the screeching sounds of seagulls were heard in the distance, but they seemed to know better than to come close to the demon standing beside her.

As she watched the waves, she could feel the prickling sensation of the rocky shoreline beneath her bare feet. However, the sense of numbness that engulfed her made her oblivious to her surroundings.

Her father stood beside her as Miru kept her gaze fixed on the sea, intentionally avoiding his profile. The silence between them was suffocating and disturbing, like sticky glue on your fingers that irritated and couldn't be wiped away without soap and water. The only sounds that punctuated the stillness were the crashing waves and the gentle whispers of the breeze.

The man seemed lost in his own contemplation, and when he finally broke the silence, his words brought no comfort to her. Instead, they pierced through her, causing her to flinch.

"Miru, you will forgive me for what happened last night, won't you?"

The sound of the waves had turned into a rumbling noise, and the screeching of seagulls seemed to be getting louder and louder, transforming into high-pitched, piercing screeches, drowning out any other thought or feeling. She felt dizzy from the noise in her head, causing her heart to intensify to the point of discomfort that would make one wish their heartbeat would just stop. By intentionally biting her lip, letting her teeth sink into her flesh, causing it to crack and taste the ooze of metallic blood to keep herself grounded with the pain. Determined, she chose to remain silent, hoping that her lack of response would convey her feelings.

He watched her with a hint of guilt on his face but remained silent. The salty sea breeze, with its sticky touch on the skin, and the vast expanse of water, painted in infinite blue, were meant to bring her peace and symbolize her love for the sea. However, her father had tainted this experience by attempting to make amends through this seaside visit. His efforts only backfired, leaving her feeling sick to her stomach. Having this man with her at the seaside felt sacrilegious, a betrayal to the place she cherished so deeply.

The unease between them lingered, and she longed for this uncomfortable moment to end.

But uncomfortable moments with her father never ceased from then on.

Nanami Seto (七海瀨人，七海せと) was a Japanese businessman full of ambition, always striving to make a mark in the world.

"A man," he indicated, "should have an ambitious heart that encompasses the world."
It was his personal philosophy that he upheld in all aspects of his life.

In his relentless pursuit of his goals, Seto employed not only diligence but also cunning and, at times, a cruel demeanor. Outsmarting and deceiving his business rivals became a normal strategy, but his aim extended beyond mere victory—it was to utterly destroy and dominate his competitors without any trace of retreat. He never prioritized cooperation with weak companies. Instead, if they sought his aid, he would either brush them off or, if deemed necessary, execute unfair merger conditions to eliminate them completely. This ruthless approach earned him a villainous reputation, yet paradoxically, it only heightened his desirability in the industry, leading to a flood of job offers.

However, he was not content with being merely an employee and instead harbored a strong desire for power and control. With this in mind, he established his own business and experienced great success both domestically and internationally, with a particular focus on Japan and England.

Despite his ruthless demeanor in business, Seto Nanami remained respected and admired for his strategic brilliance and unwavering determination. His business mail was inundated with a flood of letters, presents, and personal contacts, as countless individuals sought the opportunity to work under him and learn from his exceptional leadership. He derived great pleasure from the worship of his followers, and the adoration and reverence they showered upon him were like sweet nectar, fueling his hunger for dominance and solidifying his position of influence.

In spite of his impressive accomplishments, Seto remained reserved due to the cultural norms in Japan that emphasize the importance of men having a wife as a symbol of stability. While women were undoubtedly drawn to him wherever he went, seeking to capture his attention and affection, Seto knew that his interests lay elsewhere. The company owners, impressed by his success and status, often extended marriage proposals for their daughters, hoping to align their families with this rising star. However, Seto understood that entering into a marriage solely for the purpose of a union would introduce risks to his business if not managed properly. His primary focus was on expanding his business, and he was determined to prioritize that above all else.

With deliberate intention, Seto Nanami made a strategic decision to marry a glamorous woman whose background had no connection to his industry, ensuring there would be no betrayal or conflicts of interest. Both parties were fully aware that their marriage was transactional in nature, driven by mutual benefits. Seto promised to provide her with the material wealth and extravagant lifestyle she desired, while his wife possessed undeniable beauty and a charming eloquence that incited envy among those who compared her to their own partners. Her exceptional social skills effortlessly attracted numerous offers and opportunities, surpassing even those of Seto's competitors. She became a living testament to his achievements, serving as a symbol of his success and power.

Given the absence of affection in their relationship, it came as no surprise to Seto when he discovered his wife's infidelity after their marriage. It happened on a random night when he noticed her absence from home, and he assumed she was out partying and would return late. True to his expectations, she did return late, accompanied by another man who drove her home. It wasn't unusual for her to be driven home by someone else, and Seto saw nothing out of the ordinary in that. He stood behind the curtains, silently observing her.

Then came the goodbye kiss at the driver's window, followed by her wave of farewell to the man. Seto watched the entire scene with a cold demeanor. He didn't care about what she was doing as long as she continued to fulfill his request of accompanying him to important social events, which he deemed crucial for his own accomplishments. Instead of confronting the situation, he withdrew his hands from the curtains, turned away, and accepted the reality, as long as their respective needs were still being satisfied.

And then, Miru came into the world.

When the servant called to inform Seto, he abruptly hung up without uttering a word, unable to hide his letdown. His fervent desire had been for a son who would continue his legacy, and the arrival of a daughter shattered those aspirations. A seed of doubt began to sprout in his mind, fueled by his wife's infidelity, leading him to question the true parentage of the child.

This disappointment also manifested in Seto's procrastination to name his daughter, which raised eyebrows among his senior associates in the business circle. Oblivious to the underlying reasons behind Seto's delay, one of the seniors inquired curiously, "You haven't decided on a name yet?"

Chuckling softly, Seto responded, "I haven't come up with a suitable name yet."

"If you don't mind, please suggest a name for her," he offered, attempting to please the senior by granting him the power of naming the child, although he himself didn't truly care.

The senior carefully examined the baby that was held in Seto's wife's arms, "Such a beautiful girl," he remarked, "She seems to have inherited her mother's appearance. She will grow up to be as stunning as her."

In that moment, the baby smiled with unparalleled purity, captivating the senior.
"Like the blooming Sakura blossoms in spring in Japan," he mused.
"咲来 (Saku), with a different pronunciation to make it unique. Miru would be a fitting name for this baby girl, with such a sweet and comforting smile. Neh? Miru-chan."

It was so decided, as if it mirrored her life, she never received blessings from her parents.

Seto soon realized that regardless of gender, any child had the potential to symbolize his success. This realization became even more apparent when he saw other partners' sons, who lacked the ability to represent their parents' achievements in their respective fields. He understood that as long as he could shape and mold a child into a reflection of his own accomplishments, that child would serve as a testament to his overall achievements.

Therefore, he arranged numerous lessons for his daughter from a young age, and music lessons were particularly important as he believed that a girl should learn music and cultivate her character to showcase their family's excellent education to the outside world. He requested the tutors to train her play the piano and violin to enhance her elegance and contribute to the image he wanted to project.

Over time, Seto's relentless pursuit of success fueled an insatiable hunger for control. With each achievement, his obsession with perfection grew stronger, leaving no room for tolerance in the face of his wife's infidelity. The absence of genuine affection between them amplified Seto's internal struggle as he longed for a flawless relationship that he could shape and regulate. However, he couldn't prevent his wife from pursuing her desires due to the fear of her divulging confidential business secrets. Resorting to violence was also not an option, as he relied on her flawless appearance for public events. This double bind heightened his inner turmoil, adding complexity to his already volatile emotions.

In his struggle, Seto grappled with conflicting desires—to exert absolute control over his wife and maintain the illusion of a harmonious partnership. This internal battle eroded his sense of self and compelled him to seek alternative ways to vent his frustration and uphold his carefully constructed image, leading him to direct his misplaced anger and controlling tendencies towards his daughter.

The first time it happened, Miru was in a drowsy state, barely registering the faint creak of her bedroom door. Soft light seeped into the room, casting delicate shadows on the walls. Footsteps echoed in the silence, accompanied by the subtle rustling of clothing as the intruder approached. She could sense his presence at the end of her bed.

It was rare for her father to venture into her room.

She did not have a close relationship with either of her parents, as they were both busy, whether immersed in work or partying. Most of the time, it was her nanny who took care of her, but they tended not to stay long, as her parents form new contracts each year with the dispatch work agency, resulting in a constant change in her caretakers. She learned to take care of herself from an early age, perhaps as soon as she could understand adults, way before she developed communication skills. Seeing her father's rare presence, it prompted her to feign sleep and silently observe the unfolding situation.

Then came the distinct sound of his belt being unbuckled, breaking the stillness, followed by the hushed rustle of fabric as he removed his suit pants.

She froze. It was after that day that she began pondering the alternate outcomes that might have transpired had she made a different choice that night. Could it have prevented the tragic result? Or would it have led to her being suffocated, leaving no chance for her to endure the pain? Perhaps that could have been a better ending, to be instantly relieved from the suffering, she thought. However, she soon realized that nothing could change what had already happened, and all these thoughts remained purely hypothetical.

The atmosphere in the room became stifling as his muffled moans and grunts merged with his desperate movements. The intensity of his actions reverberated through the darkness, saturating every corner of the space. Despite their faintness, the sounds filled the room, persistently echoing with a haunting presence.

Stunned and paralyzed by fear, she found herself unable to utter a single word. As time stretched on, it was as if her consciousness detached from her body, and she observed the scene from above, watching her own trembling form and her father's imposing figure. She desperately wished for him to relent and leave her alone, silently pleading for the torment to come to an end.

The situation continued to escalate, his actions growing increasingly reckless. Then came the unwanted touches, his groping hands violating the sanctity of her sheets. And on another occasion, he removed her pajamas, eliciting a deep sense of disgust as he satisfied himself at the foot of her bed.

However, she remained motionless, as if the mechanism had already been set. Once again, she observed herself from above, witnessing her father committing an act that she knew was undoubtedly a crime.

His fixation eventually shifted. Instead of keeping his distance, he now loomed over her, choosing to kneel on top of her. In that moment, she was no longer watching from above; instead, she met his gaze, her eyes wide with fear. The cacophony of rumbling sounds and screeches echoed relentlessly in her mind, serving as a constant reminder of each occurrence. It was too late for her to protest against her abuser, and he knew she wouldn't scream, proceeding without any restraint. He no longer cared about waking her up; he would only stop when his desires were fulfilled.

He never dared to venture further than that, but the possibility loomed, a haunting uncertainty waiting for its inevitable moment.

Miru was well aware of what was happening.

The obscenity she had witnessed in the past, her mother with various lovers, now became a part of her own experience. The first time was surreal, and she couldn't believe her mother would be unfaithful to her father. But as it continued to happen regularly, she grew accustomed to her mother bringing different lovers home to indulge in. She learned to retreat to her own room, escaping into the world of music, drowning out the sounds of laughter and moaning from the room across.

However, when it happened to her, everything changed. The effects were devastating. After each incident, the smell of her father's desire lingered in her senses, and she would rush to the bathroom in her room, emptying whatever remained inside her—dinner, snacks, fruit—but more often than not, it was just bile and dry heaving.

She learned to keep a calendar in her drawer where she marked the expected date of her father's return. As the day drew near, the fear of the abuse heightened her anxiety, causing her to suffer from nightmares. She didn't want the nightmares to invade her sleep, as they were already a painful reminder of her father's actions. This led to her experiencing insomnia. Despite the lack of sleep, she believed that it was a small price to pay, considering it prevented additional pain and anxiety from plaguing her.

Each time her father returned home, Miru would experience a loss of appetite for a week before and after his departure. The mere thought of what might happen during the night disgusted her, making it difficult for her to swallow a normal portion of food.

She knew deep down that whatever she managed to eat would only be vomited out anyway.

The loss of appetite affected her figure, and she remained slim throughout her childhood. While some may have noticed that she was too thin, it truly pained her to hear others reduce her figure to a single, simple word: "Genetics," especially considering that her parents were also slender.

It wasn't until Miru entered Wammy's House under the care of Watari that her figure started to improve, and she was able to maintain a slightly more normal body weight. However, in the long term, she remained the same figure in her later adulthood.

She was obsessive about her hygiene, to the point of appearing almost manic, as if she hoped to wash away everything her father had touched or done to her. It was one way for her to diminish the impact of her father's presence on her, aside from the influence of his genes and parenting. This resulted in her skin often being red from the scrubbing she did in the shower. Additionally, her skin was always dehydrated, and she had to apply body lotion to prevent itchiness.

To outsiders, she seemed like a girl who simply prioritized cleanliness, as she carried the lingering scent of her moisturizer wherever she went, leaving a subtle fragrance in the air.

In an attempt to escape her father's suffocating behavior, Miru sought solace in the nearby seaside the following day. She would take walks along the shore, observing the waves crashing onto the shore. Removing her shoes, she would feel the rocky coastline beneath her feet and immerse herself in the cold water, reminding herself that she was still alive and capable of feeling.

She couldn't quite recall why she loved the sea, but she could only piece together that one of her nannies would bring her to the seaside and play with the fine sand. She couldn't even remember which nanny it was. However, since their house was located near the seaside, it was not unlikely that multiple nannies had taken her there. These were memories from a time before she could remember anything or form words, perhaps tracing back to when she needed to be held to travel anywhere. The feeling of being held closely, connected with the sea, and only the lingering sensation of those experiences remained.

Standing at the shore, Miru gazed out at the infinite expanse of gray before her. Picking up a pebble, she threw it into the ocean, watching as it disappeared into the water, leaving no trace behind.

I wish I was that pebble. To be embraced by the same infinite grayness.

She longed for the dark waters to wash away her suffering, to find solace in their depths.

However, as she observed the relentless crashing of the waves onto the shore, a realization gradually settled within her. In comparison to the vastness of the ocean, her troubles seemed small and insignificant.

She didn't blame herself for her father's actions, but rather for her perceived inability to protect herself and confront her father.

Why couldn't I run away? Do something to stop him. Do something to save yourself. Do anything.

But as a 5-year-old child, she couldn't survive without her parents.

Well, it's not happening every day.

As long as I can keep track of the dates, the days will be ordinary.

Except on the days when…

And whom should she ask for help? What if her parents find out? What if no one takes her seriously if she speaks up about the abuse?

Her parents were exceptional actors, adept at portraying their family as the most perfect one could imagine. With a successful master, a glamorous and charming mistress, and a well-educated and well-behaved child, they only drew envy from others when compared to their own partners and children. No reasonable person would question the harmony of the family.

But Miru knew well that her parents were lying monsters, and she considered herself to be no exception.

With that thought, Miru turned and walked away from the endless blue. But this was never the last time she returned to the seaside to find solace.

She returned again, and again, and again.

But no one noticed, and those who knew did not care.

Despite the turmoil she experienced, Miru managed to maintain the outward appearance of a normal, well-behaved child. Her clothes were clean and elegant, and she neatly arranged her own hair. Harsh words never escaped her lips, instead, she spoke with politeness, displayed mature manners and thoughtful behavior, often considered admirable for someone her age. There were no tantrums or complaint seen from her. To others, she appeared polite and well-mannered, completely unaware of the internal struggles she endured. This facade of normalcy was primarily a result of her father's belief that refined behavior reflected successful parenting.

Seto, who was an expert at concealing his intentions. His strategic approach involved creating an environment where others felt comfortable sharing while he remained guarded, and he took great care to ensure that Miru's tutors instilled these values in her. Miru adopted a similar mindset, keeping her true thoughts hidden and preventing herself from fully trusting others. She became skilled at allowing others to express themselves while revealing only surface-level information about herself. This defense mechanism served to protect her from potential harm and maintain a sense of control over her vulnerability.

With her parents frequently consumed by work or social engagements, Miru found herself spending the majority of her time with tutors who managed her packed schedule of lessons. Whether they were instructing her on manners, music, or academic subjects, these tutors would regularly provide progress reports and commend her achievements to her parents. Seto would wear a satisfied grin upon hearing these reports, deriving pleasure from his daughter's accomplishments. Meanwhile, her mother would take a drag of her cigarette and avert her gaze, seemingly disinterested.

However, for Miru, these praises held no significance and did not indicate any genuine kindness from the tutors. They were well aware of the family dynamics but chose not to acknowledge the parental neglect, considering it beyond their responsibility to address such matters.

The tutors were accomplices to her parents' actions.

Miru remained cautious, refraining from placing complete trust in them, and avoiding relying too heavily on the tutors for emotional support.

Mixed emotions were felt towards the lessons. She resented her abusive father for arranging these lessons; however, she hoped to gain her mother's attention and praise through her academic achievements, as her refined behavior and elegant appearance were not enough to capture her mother's interest. She was determined to excel in her studies.

But most of the time, her efforts were in vain. No matter how determined she was, her parents never truly saw her as an individual. This feeling intensified when she observed the neighboring children happily engaging with their affectionate parents. A potent mixture of envy and skepticism tugged at Miru's heart, leaving her to wonder if their seemingly perfect family dynamics concealed hidden flaws, much like her own.

"I play the violin, too, and my mommy thinks I play very well, and she's always so proud," the neighbor's child happily shared with Miru, unaware of the mixed emotions it stirred within her.

They were in the nearby park, with other children roaming beside them. Miru had just mentioned that she took music lessons, but she kept most of her progress to herself and chose to listen to what the girl wanted to say.

"Really?"

"Yes! My mommy always asks me to play for her. She says I'm AMAZING!" The girl's face beamed with pride at her musical skill and the praise she received from her mother, heightening her tone with the term "amazing."

It clearly annoyed Miru.

She maintained her smile towards the girl but soon averted her gaze, momentarily clouded with envy.

Amazing, huh?

The girl's less-than-stellar violin playing was often seen as a nuisance in the neighborhood. Miru had witnessed her mother calling the police to complain about the neighbor's child playing the violin. In contrast, Miru's own playing had always brought astonishment to her father's business partners whenever he brought them home to discuss business matters or have a drink. Her progress had already reached a distinction in her ABRSM Grade 8 exam.

There were times when she tried to please her mother with her music, showcasing everything she had learned in her lessons. But most of the time, her mother ignored her efforts or responded perfunctorily, preoccupied with her own tasks.

While she maintained a calm exterior, Miru's fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of her dress, causing her knuckles to turn white. Her eyes momentarily flickered with hidden longing, an intense desire for her own mother to notice her musical progress and achievements, or perhaps, anything related to her at all.

All she wanted was to be seen.

Miru loosened her grip and replied, "That's nice."

Upon hearing the girl's experience, a glimmer of hope surged within Miru.

Perhaps Mother would be pleased by my playing this time.

With that in mind, she mustered the courage before dinnertime to retrieve her violin from its case. She handled the instrument with delicate care, tuning each string with precision and ensuring her bow had enough rosin. Once everything was prepared, she took a deep breath and made her way to her mother's bedroom.

"Mother, I've been practicing this new violin piece, and I thought you might like to hear it," she said softly, clutching her instrument in her hands.

Dressed in a stunning black gown that exposed her shoulders and featured a high slit, Miru's mother emanated an aura of confidence and allure. The attire highlighted her exquisitely rounded bosom, capturing attention with its innate elegance. With her hair left flowing freely, her long and glossy black locks cascaded down her back, gleaming under the room's gentle illumination. As her fair-toned, sleek legs gracefully extended from beneath the dress, their sculpted contours appeared almost ethereal, resembling a masterpiece.

She meticulously sorted through her opulent purse, completely engrossed in the task at hand. Her eyes, resembling Miru's, possessed a captivating expressiveness accentuated by skillfully applied mascara. With every fluttering blink, the mascara intensified the allure of her gaze, leaving an unforgettable impression on anyone fortunate enough to meet her eyes. Crystal-embellished multi-drop earrings adorned her ears, adding a touch of elegance to her every gesture as she continued her organization, gathering her belongings, and stuffing them into her crocodile-skin Birkin, completely ignoring her daughter's presence.

"Mother—" she tried again, her voice filled with hope.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Her mother snapped, hastily pulling out a bold red lipstick from her bag and applying it with hurried strokes. There was a stark contrast between her elegant appearance and the way she spoke to her daughter.

"I'm already running late for my party. Seriously! And now you're just standing in my way."

Miru stood still, her eyes locked on the woman standing in front of her. It was her mother, who noticed her daughter's unwavering posture and paused her actions while applying lipstick.

A sly smile curled at the corners of her mother's lips.

After a final glance at herself in the mirror, she carefully placed the lipstick on the makeup desk and stood up from her seat.

She leaned down, positioning herself at the same eye level as the little girl, a smile gracing her lips as her eyes locked onto Miru's. It seemed as though she was preparing to offer words of tenderness and care.

But to Miru's dismay, what came out of her mother's lips was pure venom.

"I. Don't. Care. About what you do, what you say, what you want," she uttered. The intimidating tone in her voice echoed like a hissing snake. The beauty of her appearance, tainted by false warmth, cast a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate Miru's very soul.

"I never wanted a baby. If it weren't for the life I desired, I wouldn't have married Seto Nanami. I never liked him. Having sex with him felt like rape to me. And you, you're the result of that violation," she coldly smirked, showing no remorse for her cruel words.

"The moment you emerged from between my legs, I knew it—nothing but a burden, stretching me physically and emotionally. So, if you please, stay away from my sight."

Her mother swiftly rose, grabbed her bag, and made her way towards the waiting limousine outside. The luxurious vehicle was driven by one of her many lovers, and without a second glance or a word, they drove off, leaving Miru standing alone in her mother's opulent room.

Although she had anticipated her mother's unwillingness to sit down and listen to her performance, her mother's words still felt like a lump in her throat, rendering her unable to swallow anything.

That day, she chose to skip dinner, retreating to her dimly lit bedroom. Overwhelmed by her father's relentless pursuit of success, the lessons he arranged, the abuse he directed towards her, and deeply disappointed by her mother's neglect, she felt a wave of repulsion washing over her.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall at her mother's hurtful words. She had come to expect that her mother would never say anything kind or supportive. Seeking solace, she went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, hoping to cleanse away the sting in her eyes, or rather, the frustration caused by her mother's verbal abuse.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror with water dripping from her chin, she couldn't deny the striking resemblance she bore to her mother. Her long, glossy hair framed expressive eyes, a slender nose with a defined bridge, full and slightly rounded lips adorned with a natural pink hue, and a distinct cupid's bow—all features inherited from her mother.

She wore a simple mauve-colored dress, slightly understated compared to the other children's attire but exuding a sophisticated style. It was a dress she genuinely liked, but she couldn't ignore the fact that her father's taste and the manner lessons he arranged for her had influenced her style in fashion and design.

Beyond her physical attributes, her intelligence and sharpness set her apart from children her age. Her father's unwavering diligence in his field and relentless pursuit of his goals, along with her mother's effortless and flawless conversation skills, all reflected their adept utilization of their intelligence. Miru undoubtedly inherited her remarkable intellect from both parents, shaping her into the perceptive and intellectually agile individual she had become.

She attempted a smile in the mirror, a smile that appeared genuinely perfect and capable of concealing her true thoughts. When she chose not to smile, her demeanor returned to one of reserved composure. She knew that this composed exterior left a lasting impression on those who met her.

Every aspect of herself seemed to carry shadows of her parents' influence. From her outward appearance to her intelligence, she was crafted to be seen as well-educated, the product of successful parenting by her father and mother.

What she presented to the world was precisely what Seto wanted others to believe.

The reality is far more complex than that, and it certainly hurts.

Author's Note:

When I envisioned Miru's parents, I drew inspiration from the Wormwoods, the neglectful parents in Roald Dahl's Matilda. However, the Nanamis exhibit a level of brutality that surpasses even the Wormwoods.

Writing this chapter has deeply unsettled me as I explore the crimes committed by Seto Nanami and the verbal abuse inflicted by Miru's mother.

Initially, I thought fabricating entirely abusive conduct for Seto Nanami would be unrealistic. However, my research on child abuse and neglect experiences revealed the occurrence of similar events worldwide. Reality often surpasses imagination, exposing its cruel and irrational nature, which deeply disturbs me. Despite this, depicting Miru's past and trauma is essential, as it significantly influences her relationship with L and her decision-making in later chapters. My aim is to maintain neutrality in my writing as best as I can.

In the Death Note anime Rewrite, L identifies himself as a "lying monster," which led me to consider Miru's perception of herself as a "lying monster" to some extent, despite their differing experiences. While L's struggle is centered around understanding the human mind, Miru's journey focuses on staying true to herself.

Seto Nanami, who is also labeled a "lying monster," bears several similarities to L in their approach to achieving their goals. Both rely on cunning, deception, and occasionally resort to unethical or illegal methods. (But of course, the villain in this fic is Seto, not L.) The realization of Seto sharing traits with L was coincidental and emerged during further research into L's characteristics after completing Seto's character description.

The unexpected resemblance between Seto and L intrigued me, especially considering that M, despite her hatred for her father, becomes entangled with someone who shares similar traits and employs similar methods. This connection reminded me of psychologist John Gottman's suggestion that we may be attracted to partners who resemble our parents due to hormonal factors or imprinting.

I would like to ask my readers: Do you agree with John Gottman? I welcome opinions on L and Seto, as well as insights from your own experiences.