The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
I lay on the futon, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as if the shadows there were watching me back. The cicadas outside had gone quiet hours ago. Even the wind had stilled, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
My phone sat on the desk beside me, its dim glow casting a faint light across the tatami. 2:58 AM.
Almost time.
My heart pounded like a war drum. Every night since Valkyrie appeared, the same thing happened. Pain, fragments, whispers of the past or future. And every time… the clock read 3:00 AM.
That cursed hour.
That sacred hour.
"Fragments of memory will return to you… as you become worthy of my help."
Her voice echoed in my skull like rusted chains grinding against bone.
2:59.
I whispered into the darkness, my voice cracked but steady:
"Show me. I'll endure it. No matter what."
The clock struck 3:00.
And the world split apart.
The first thing was pain. White-hot, unbearable, as if nails were hammered straight into my skull. My breath hitched, my chest convulsed. My hands clutched the futon, trembling, but I didn't scream. Not this time. I refused.
The second thing… was sight.
A room. Familiar. Too familiar.
My living room.
But darker. Colder.
I saw my father slumped on the couch, the lamp beside him flickering faintly. His suit jacket was wrinkled, his tie loose. In his hand, a half-empty glass of whiskey. In his other… my photo.
Me.
His lips moved, words slipping out, broken and slurred.
"Haruto… I'm sorry… forgive me… I should've…"
His shoulders shook. He pressed his forehead against the frame, tears dripping onto the glass. My father. The man who always carried himself like iron, now crumbling like rust.
My chest tightened. I wanted to scream at him, Don't cry, Father. Don't break like this.
But the scene didn't stop.
The front door opened.
Footsteps. Slow, deliberate.
My mother walked in. Her hair perfectly tied, her blouse neat despite the late hour. And beside her
Souta.
Laughing. Whispering something in her ear that made her smile.
Rage seared my veins, but the vision chained me in place.
Father looked up, his eyes red. He stumbled to his feet, reaching out.
"Where… where were you…?"
Mother's face hardened instantly, like ice. She brushed past him without a glance. Souta followed, his smirk carved deep into his face.
Father grabbed her wrist, weakly. "Answer me… please…"
The sound came sharp, merciless.
SLAP.
Her hand cracked across his face, sending him staggering back.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. Her voice wasn't the voice I remembered. It was venom.
Souta stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. Protecting her. From my father.
I watched, powerless, as Father collapsed into the couch again, clutching the photo tighter, his tears falling harder.
And Mother walked away. Souta walked away.
Leaving him in ruins.
Leaving us in ruins.
The vision shattered.
I fell forward onto the tatami, my body convulsing. My chest burned, my lungs refused to breathe. A strangled scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
"Why… why did you show me this…?" I whispered into the empty room, my forehead pressed to the floor.
The answer came in a voice darker than the night.
"Because weakness disgusts me."
The shadows on the walls stretched, twisting into clawed shapes. The lantern outside flickered violently. Her presence filled the room, heavy, suffocating, like chains tightening around my neck.
"Your father's love chained him. And what did it earn him? Betrayal. Humiliation. A life of tears."
Her voice slithered into my ears, sharp and cruel.
"Love is nothing but an illusion mortals worship. Loyalty is a chain that snaps the moment desire pulls harder."
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "Then why show me his suffering? Why torture me with it?"
Her laughter was low, rumbling, inhuman.
"Because pain is the only whetstone for your blade. If you cannot carve vengeance from this sight… then you will drown in it. Just like him."
The shadows wrapped tighter. My breath came ragged.
"You want revenge?" she hissed. "Then bleed for it. Break for it. Burn for it. Only then will you become more than the weak boy they spat on. Only then will you be worthy of me."
I forced myself upright, trembling, sweat dripping down my jaw.
My notebook lay on the desk. I staggered to it, snatched the pen, and began writing furiously.
November 9 – Souta + Mother.
Father – drunk, crying.
Slap.
My handwriting shook, ink blotching across the page. My chest felt like it was splitting in two.
But I didn't stop.
I couldn't stop.
This was evidence. This was truth. This was another chain I would break.
By the time I finished scribbling, the lantern outside had gone out. The room was pitch black. My hands were stained with ink, my knuckles raw from gripping the pen too hard.
I sat back, gasping, staring at the words. The truth. My truth.
I whispered, my voice hoarse but steady:
"I'll protect him. No matter what. Even if it means destroying all of you."
The shadows on the wall twisted into a smile.
And Valkyrie's laugh echoed one last time before fading into silence.
I didn't sleep that night.
I couldn't.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Father's tears. Mother's coldness. Souta's smirk.
But I didn't crumble.
No.
For the first time, my resolve wasn't just about me.
It was about him. My father.
I would not let him drown like that.
I would not let her,let them tear him apart.
I picked up the notebook again, my bloodshot eyes staring at the words. My voice was a whisper, but it carried weight.
"Valkyrie… I'll endure your fragments. All of them. Even if they break me a thousand times. Because when I rise"
I pressed the pen down so hard it almost tore the page.
"I'll be the one holding the blade."
The cicadas outside began to sing again, as if mocking me.
But I didn't hear them.
I only heard the echoes of that slap, and the promise I carved into my veins.