I don't think I mentioned this but I'm back. Anyway here is my next chapter. I think left some readers lost. About the profile, I included some notes about the character. This includes future topics. Now returning to the current chapter, I warn you that this chapter contains a heavy topic. If you don't want to read about abuse. Then I understand if you want to skip this chapter.

The oppressive air in the room weighed heavily on Igawa Haruka, a chill creeping through her skin as though the frost of a long-buried memory had awakened. There in front of her was a screen, suspended in midair like a phantom, replaying a scene she desperately wished to forget—her father's harsh voice echoing through the silence.

The room around her blurred, and the screen sharpened into focus. It displayed a younger version of herself—her white hair hanging limply around her face, silver eyes wide with fear as her father's whip struck her. The sharp crack of the whip on her small back echoed like thunder, reverberating through her chest and stealing her breath.

She flinched. The pain of the past felt real—too real. It slipped under her skin like icy tendrils, numbing her body while igniting her heart. She tried to look away, but the screen followed her, ever-present, no matter which way she turned. Her father's voice grew louder, filled with disdain, accusing her of sins she hadn't committed, branding her a curse, unworthy. His words were sharper than any physical blow, cutting deeper with every syllable.

"I don't want to see this," Haruka whispered, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her legs trembled, but she could still feel them—enough to move.

With a sudden burst of panic, she ran. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor, her pulse thundering in her ears. The world around her dissolved into a blur of darkness, her only constant was the screen. No matter how fast she ran, it stayed just a step ahead, replaying every slap, every cruel word, every tear she shed as a child.

"Stop!" she screamed, her voice cracking. But the screen only grew larger, her father's voice now deafening, wrapping around her like a suffocating fog.

Haruka ran harder, pushing her body beyond its limits, but the scene remained. Her legs finally gave out, and she collapsed onto the cold ground, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. The screen morphs into an old man she recognized, it inched closer, nearly swallowing her, her father's twisted face looming, his words growing louder, more relentless.

The noise was unbearable, like a scream piercing the dead of night. She felt herself spiraling, crushed by the weight of her past. Haruka squeezed her eyes shut, desperate for it all to end.

Then—silence.

When she opened her eyes, she was back in her room. The familiar walls of her earthly home surrounded her, bathed in the soft glow of dawn. She sat up, her breath still ragged, her heart pounding painfully. The chill of the nightmare lingered, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

It was just a dream. But it had felt too real. The past wasn't supposed to haunt her like this. Yet, as she wiped away the tears she hadn't realized she'd shed, Haruka knew—some things could never truly be escaped, no matter how far she ran.

The nightmares would always follow her.

0000

I sat on the stone steps behind Sobu High, watching the tennis team practice, though my mind was elsewhere. The breeze brushed against my face as I absentmindedly ate from my bento, barely tasting the food. My thoughts drifted back to the nightmare—my father's voice, the pain, the fear.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped me back to reality. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Hikigaya Hachiman standing there, hands in his pockets, his usual disinterested expression on his face.

"Isshiki seems worried about you," he said casually, his eyes briefly scanning my face. "You look... down."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond at first. It felt strange talking about what weighed on my mind. I'd grown used to carrying these burdens alone. But Hikigaya was different. He wasn't just my cousin. He knew the truth—he was the only person in this world who knew I came from a place far beyond Earth, a world of fantasy, magic, and pain.

"I... had a dream," I began softly, my voice faltering. I stared down at my bento, unable to meet his eyes. "A nightmare. About my past world."

Hikigaya waited in silence, his presence steady but unobtrusive. It was enough to encourage me to continue.

"I was... abused by my parents," I said, my voice trembling as I forced the words out. "They hated me. You once said I was beautiful—because of my white hair and silver eyes—but as a child, I despised myself. I hated this... curse." My fingers brushed through my long black hair, which concealed my true appearance—the one only he could see. "These traits are the marks of a hero in my world."

I paused, the weight of my memories pressing down like a vice. "You'd think a hero would be loved, wouldn't you? But in my world, it wasn't like that. The hero before me, the one who brought peace between humans and demons, was despised by the nobles. He forced them to support schools for commoners, to fund a future for people they considered beneath them. And so, they built academies exclusive to the rich, to maintain their privilege."

My voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. "That's why people like me, with white hair and silver eyes, were seen as heretics. The nobles hated what we stood for. Even my own family despised me."

Hikigaya remained silent, his gaze steady but not intrusive. I appreciated that about him—he never rushed me or tried to fix anything. He just listened.

"I couldn't escape it," I whispered. "Even in my own home, I was a curse. My parents... my brother, my sister... they all saw me as something to be ashamed of."

I drew in a shaky breath, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's not like it matters here, right? This world is so different. But I guess... I just wanted you to know why I seem down today."

For a while, there was only the distant sound of tennis balls bouncing and players shouting on the court. Then Hikigaya spoke, his voice low and thoughtful.

"Maybe it doesn't matter to this world," he said, his usual cynical tone softened, "but it matters to you."

I looked at him, surprised by the empathy in his voice.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand what you went through," he continued, his gaze shifting to the tennis team as if it were easier to talk without looking at me. "But I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong. To be hated for things you can't control. You survived it. You're still here."

A faint smile tugged at my lips, his words offering a small sense of comfort.

"I guess I am," I murmured, my voice steadier now.

For a while, we sat in comfortable silence, the tension in my chest easing ever so slightly. Sharing my pain, however small the step, made it feel a little more bearable.

I let out a long sigh, my eyes distant, as though my memories were pulling me back to another time and place. "Diana von Umbral Serpentis," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hikigaya turned, confused. "What?"

I gave him a small, sad smile. "It's my name. From my original world."

There was a brief silence as Hikigaya processed my words. I—Haruka—no, Diana—continued before he could respond, my gaze dropping to the ground. "I thought once I married the prince of my kingdom, I'd be free from my family. That I'd escape their torment."

I paused, my fingers gripping the edge of my bento, grounding myself in the present. "When I was ten, during one of my father's... beatings, the royal family happened to visit. My father was about to hit me when the young prince walked in. He saw what was happening and asked what was going on."

My voice softened as I recalled the memory. "My father stopped immediately. He kneeled before the prince, pretending nothing had happened. The prince asked again, but my parents stayed silent."

I blinked back at the emotions that surfaced. "Then the King and Queen appeared. They saw me—bruised, beaten, terrified. But instead of turning away, they took me in."

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. "They became my real family. They trained me to be the next queen. For the first time, I felt like I mattered. I loved them for that. I loved them as my own."

I stopped, the words trailing off into the cool breeze. Sitting here, speaking with Hikigaya, it all rushed back—the fleeting happiness before everything fell apart.

Hikigaya's eyes stayed on me, quiet and intense. He didn't speak, but there was an unspoken understanding between us. I had survived unimaginable pain, yet I was still here. In this world. With him.

And somehow, that made all the difference.

I let out a deep, trembling breath, my shoulders sagging under the weight of my unspoken words. "I was betrayed by the prince," I began, but my voice cracked, and I quickly turned away, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. "I'm sorry... I can't talk about it yet. It was just... another plan from my family and the nobles, one I thought I'd left behind."

The silence stretched for a moment before Hikigaya broke it with his usual calm. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting you to tell me anything."

I nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. "I see," I murmured. Something was comforting in his response, in the way he didn't push or expect more than I was ready to give. I was even surprised I had spoken about it at all.

With that, I stood, my movements slow and deliberate. Somehow, I felt lighter, though the weight of my past still clung to me. As I turned to leave, the breeze rustling through my long black hair, I glanced back at Hikigaya for a moment. There was something in his eyes—understanding, perhaps—but no judgment. He just watched me, as he always did.

Without another word, I walked away, the distance between us growing with each step. I wasn't sure where I was headed, but for now, I just needed space. Space to breathe. Space to gather the pieces of myself that still felt broken.

As I disappeared, the world moved on—the sounds of tennis balls and laughter fading into the background. But the memory of my past remained—heavy, but no longer unbearable.

For now, that was enough.

0000

I walked toward the entrance of the school building, my thoughts still swirling from the conversation with Hikigaya. The weight of my past clung to me, but I tried to push it to the back of my mind, focusing on the present—on this world.

Just as I reached for the door, it suddenly swung open with force, nearly knocking me off balance. Startled, I stepped back as an overweight boy in a trench coat hurriedly brushed past, moving with such frantic energy that he didn't even notice me. In his rush, he stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and fell face-first to the ground.

Blinking in surprise, I quickly knelt beside him. "Are you alright?"

The boy mumbled something incoherent, his face flushed with embarrassment. As he clambered to his feet, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear, "My angel..."

Before I could fully process what he meant, he shot up and ran off, his trench coat flapping behind him in a flurry of awkward movements. I straightened, watching him disappear into the distance, furrowing my brow in confusion.

"My angel?" I repeated, baffled by the strange encounter.

Turning back toward the door, I was about to enter when I thought I heard someone shout in the distance, "Hachiman!"

I snapped my head in the direction of the voice, but the back of the school was mostly empty now, with only a few students mingling around. Shaking my head, I sighed. After everything that had happened today, a bizarre encounter like this almost felt normal.

Still puzzled, I opened the door and stepped inside, wondering what strange events might await me next.

0000

I found myself trailing slightly behind my mother and little sister, Marnie, as we wandered through the mall. The air buzzed with the usual sounds—chatter, footsteps, and occasional laughter from excited shoppers. Lost in thought, I was only half-listening to the conversation ahead until my mother's voice broke through.

"Girls, as your mother, I want at least one outfit that's different from what you usually wear," she said, her tone playful but firm. "So no punk kawaii for you, Marnie."

Marnie, who had been scanning the racks with a sparkle in her eye, pouted dramatically. "But it's my style! You know how hard it is to find the perfect balance of edgy and cute?"

Our mother waved off her protest with a smile before turning to me, her gaze a bit more calculated.

"And for you, Haruka," she said, pausing as she gave me a once-over. "Let's have you show a bit of skin, something mature. Your outfit is nice, but you need to be bold!"

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. Glancing down at my clothes—modest, practical, and comfortable—I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Bold was not my style.

"I'm... fine with what I have," I said quietly, trying to deflect without causing a debate.

But our mother wasn't letting it go. "Nonsense! You're young and beautiful—you should show a little confidence! There's nothing wrong with turning a few heads." She gestured toward a nearby store filled with trendy, revealing clothes. "Come on, let's find something fun."

Marnie, already resigned to her fate of no punk kawaii for the day, grinned mischievously. "Yeah, Haruka, live a little! Maybe you'll catch someone's eye?"

Before I could respond, my mother and Marnie were already ahead, rummaging through racks of bold, vibrant outfits that made me cringe internally.

Marnie crossed her arms, glaring at our mother with her usual defiant look. Her dark eyes gleamed with a mix of frustration and stubbornness, matching the intense expression she often wore. Her jet-black hair, styled in twin pigtails that framed her pale face, only added to her edgy aura.

"I'll buy you that dark pleated skirt and black lace top if you try on this white dress," our mother bargained, holding up the flowy garment.

"But I don't want to, Mama," Marnie grumbled, eyeing the dress like it was her sworn enemy.

"Then you can say 'no' to the other outfits," our mother countered, her tone firm but patient.

Marnie clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Fine, I get it," she muttered, rolling her eyes in defeat.

"Good, now go try it on," said our mother, thrusting the dress into her arms.

With an exaggerated stomp, Marnie grabbed the dress and disappeared into the dressing room, muttering under her breath. I stood to the side, watching the entire exchange with amusement and sympathy.

A few moments later, Marnie emerged from the dressing room, her expression sour, but the dress had transformed her. The flowy white maxi dress, with its ruffled hem just above her knees, was a stark contrast to her usual dark and edgy style. The soft fabric and light color brightened her appearance, making her black hair stand out even more. Her pale skin seemed to glow against the dress, giving her an ethereal, almost delicate look—completely at odds with her usual tough, rebellious vibe.

I couldn't help but smile slightly. Marnie tugged at the hem of the dress, clearly uncomfortable, her fierce demeanor softened by the flowy fabric.

"Well?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced between me and our mother. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

0000

Marnie, now in much higher spirits, skipped behind our mother and me, her twin pigtails bouncing with each step. The white dress was stuffed into her bag, practically forgotten. Her attention was fixed on the black-and-red shopping bag she proudly carried. The bag bore a bold white logo and held her prized new dark pleated skirt and black lace top. She wore a smug smile, content with her small victory.

As we entered the next department store, it was my turn to pick an outfit. Our mother led us to a section with more daring styles, her eyes already scanning the racks for something that would push me out of my comfort zone.

"Alright, Haruka, let's find something that shows a little more skin," our mother teased, pulling a hanger from the rack. After some deliberation, she handed me an outfit.

It was a light, off-the-shoulder blouse in a soft lavender shade, the sleeves flowing loosely down my arms, ending just above my wrists. The blouse revealed my collarbones and bare shoulders, offering a subtly elegant yet slightly bold look. Paired with it was a high-waisted skirt, dark and sleek, flaring slightly at the hips before ending just above my knees. The pleated design added movement when I walked, giving the skirt a playful yet classy touch.

I hesitated for a moment, glancing at the outfit in my hands. It was more revealing than I was used to, but there was a certain charm to it. The soft lavender contrasted with my pale skin, and the skirt showed off my long, toned legs. Despite my initial reluctance, I could already picture myself wearing it.

"Go on, try it on!" our mother encouraged, giving me a gentle nudge.

A few minutes later, I stepped out of the dressing room. The off-the-shoulder blouse highlighted my neck and shoulders, making me look effortlessly chic. The short skirt added a flirty edge to my usually modest appearance. The outfit gave me a balance of elegance and confidence—something my usual clothes lacked. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror.

"Well, how do you feel?" our mother asked, a knowing smile on her face.

I adjusted the hem of the skirt and shrugged. "It's... different, but I'll get used to it."

Marnie, watching from the side, gave a small nod of approval. "Not bad, sis. Bold enough without being over the top."

0000

The three of us settled into a booth at a bustling fast-food restaurant, enjoying a casual dinner. The conversation started light, with Marnie and I digging into our meals while our mother chatted animatedly.

"So, Haruka-chan," our mother began, glancing up from her burger with a playful glint, "any boy you find interesting?"

I looked up, momentarily surprised by the question, and shook my head sheepishly. "No, no one."

Our mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she turned her attention to Marnie, giving her a knowing smile. Marnie, busy savoring her fries, looked up but stayed silent, sensing our mother's playful scheming.

"Well," our mother continued, turning back to me, "I've heard so much about Hachiman and his friends. Surely, with all these boys around, someone must have caught your eye?"

I blinked, my expression a mix of confusion and discomfort. "Mother, I'm not sure what you're getting at. I've only interacted with our cousin Hachiman and his friends."

Her smile widened, clearly misunderstanding. "Oh, I see. So, none of Hachiman's friends seem interesting to you?"

I frowned slightly, realizing where she had gone wrong. "No, they're nice, but they're just... friends. I haven't thought about anyone in a romantic way."

Our mother's eyes twinkled with a mix of understanding and lingering curiosity. "I just want you to keep an open mind. You never know when someone special might come along. Sometimes, the most unexpected people turn out to be the ones who surprise us."

Marnie, catching onto the conversation, grinned mischievously. "Yeah, Haruka, you might find someone amazing when you're not even looking. Even if Hachiman's friends are just friends, there's always room for new and interesting people."

I chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease despite the misunderstanding. "I guess you're right. For now, I'm just focusing on settling in and getting used to everything here."

Our mother patted me gently on the back. "That's the spirit. Remember, sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them."

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, the atmosphere in the restaurant relaxed. The clinking of cutlery and the warm laughter around us filled the space, allowing me to enjoy the simple pleasure of spending time with my family.

0000

That night, I lay in bed, the day's events replaying in my mind—dinner's laughter, the playful banter with my mother and Marnie, and the small misunderstanding that had occurred. As I stared at the ceiling, a realization became clearer.

My mother's questions and subtle matchmaking suddenly made perfect sense. In her mind, "Hachiman's friends" were just other boys I might be interested in. But I knew better. A smile crept across my face as I thought about the mix-up.

"Hachiman's friends are Yukinoshita Yukino, Yuigahama Yui, and Isshiki Iroha," I murmured, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "All of them are cute girls. No guy friends."

The thought brought a comforting clarity. It was funny how my mother's well-meaning, but misguided, attempts had led to such a misunderstanding. Yet, despite the confusion, I felt a warmth in knowing I had found a new sense of belonging. A new family, new friends, and a life that was slowly becoming my own.

As I drifted off to sleep, the hum of the city outside and the peaceful stillness of my room wrapped around me like a soothing embrace. I felt at ease, knowing that, despite the misunderstandings and adjustments, I was surrounded by people who cared about me in their unique ways.