When the truth is ugly, people try to keep it hidden.
Because if revealed, they know the damage it can do. So they seal it behind sturdy walls, tuck it away behind locked doors, or mask it with clever disguises.
But truth—no matter how ugly—always emerges.
And someone always gets hurt.
That's the ugliest truth of all.
"Ken! There you are! I've been looking for you!" Misty shouted, yanking Ken from his thoughts.
He turned toward her. Her eyes were puffy.
She'd been crying.
She saw him looking and quickly smiled. "It was raining," she said.
Ken knew she was lying. But he didn't press. Not with that distant glint in her eyes—one that said, Please don't make me talk about it.
Then the classroom door burst open.
Crow.
Everyone felt it—the sudden shift in energy, the crackle of tension in the air. Misty tensed. Ken didn't miss it.
Was Crow the reason she was crying?
"I'm here to talk to Misty," Crow said flatly, his eyes never leaving Ken's.
Ken stood, crossing the room toward the boy with the fluffy green hair tipped in white—like a cabbage in spring.
Why do they call him Crow if he looks like a cabbage? Ken wondered.
He stopped beside him. "Good luck," he muttered.
Crow blinked in surprise, caught off guard by Ken's calm retreat. No fight. No resistance.
Just quiet surrender.
Misty, however, looked like she could set Crow on fire with her glare.
"Hey, calm down, Mist!" Crow said with forced cheer. "I'm sorry about earlier, alright? I'd really like to be friends—"
She cut him off with ice.
Only one person is allowed to call me that.
She was eight.
Hiding behind a tree. Trembling.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
She held her breath, eyes squeezed shut. If she stayed silent, maybe they wouldn't find her.
The air was thick with fear and sweat. The smell of dirt clung to her.
"You seriously thought we wouldn't find you behind this tree?" snarled Bitch Number Two.
Coco.
Misty's eyes cracked open. Her hands were pinned to the bark. She couldn't even wipe the crust from her lashes.
Bitch One was Cleo.
Bitch Two—Coco.
Bitch Three—Cybil.
The three musketeers. Misty called them the Three B's. Obvious enough.
Suddenly, she saw something in the distance—a flash of white hair being chased by a boy with hair like the abyss.
It reminded her of...
"So, Misty," Coco cooed, head tilted like a predator, "what did you do wrong?"
Cybil removed her hand from Misty's mouth. She coughed violently, the taste of dirt and hand sanitizer burning her throat.
Cleo never touched anyone. Never got her hands dirty.
She just watched. Cold and calculating. Eyes like a government drone.
The worst kind of evil.
"Come on, girls. Jop's is having a sale," Cleo chirped.
They left, squealing and laughing.
Misty stayed behind, crying softly against the tree.
She was eight. And she didn't understand why the world was so cruel.
Wasn't it supposed to be... perfect?
"Mist," a voice had said gently. "Your mom asked me to find you."
"Let's get one thing straight," Misty said now, her voice sharp enough to cut. "I don't like you, Green Cabbage. You're annoying. Now leave me and Ken alone. Got it?"
Crow's ears flushed red. He opened his mouth—but didn't speak. He left without another word.
Misty smiled.
Satisfied.
She hummed quietly to herself, waiting for Ken to return. Class was about to start.
Right on cue, he walked in, a frown darkening his features.
"What's wrong?" Misty asked.
Ken didn't answer at first. His brows only furrowed deeper.
Misty reached out and touched his forehead lightly. "If you keep frowning like that, your face is gonna get stuck," she teased.
She laughed, trying to lift the mood. Her smile softened.
"Crow seemed mad at me," Ken said, finally. "I'm not in the mood."
Misty lit up. "Ignore him. He's just being a cabbage."
Ken didn't smile. Not quite.
But he sat down.
And as he did, a single thought echoed through his mind:
The truth always comes out.
The door opened. Students filed in.
P.e.R.F.E.c.T.l.Y.