As the misty morning came, rose the sounds of birds, the muttering of neighbors, and the racket of kids.
Especially one that came from the one and only house of Urara.
"NO!" Urara protested, "I DON'T WANT PICKLES!" she yelped, sealing her mouth tight as her mother forced her way to feed her.
"Open your mouth, Urara! Pickles are good for you! Don't waste the food!"
"I DON'T WANNA! GIVE IT TO DAD!"
When her mother turned to her husband's plate, like father, like daughter, the pickle was pristine, untouched.
"Honey…" her mother glared at her father, "Why's there still pickles on your plate?"
"Oh, is that so?" said the father while taking a glance at his watch. "Welp... It's getting late, I'm off to work now! Good luck! Bye-bye!" said the father before rushing to the door.
"Wait—" her mother protested, but her husband, already disappearing into the morning mist, off to work he went.
Her mother sighed as she watched her husband flee because of a pickle, while Urara seized the chance and tried to dump hers into her mother's plate.
Only to be caught mid-act. "Eat your vegetables!"
"I DON'T WANNA!"
As the two wrestled over the small green menace.
Suddenly—
*Ding Dong*
The doorbell rang, interrupting their little havoc.
Her mother froze, released her grip on Urara, and called out, "Coming!" before heading for the door.
With a swift, gentle wipe of her sweaty palm on her clothes.
She opened it casually, expecting a neighbor—or maybe the postman.
"Sorry for the wait—" she begged pardon with a smile.
But instead, at first glance, she saw no one. Her eyes drifted around for a while, confused. Only then shifting down.
There stood Mary Jane. Straight-backed, her uniform crisp, her eyes sharp. She didn't come to play. She came with a purpose.
"You... are—?" Urara's mother was still unacquainted with Mary Jane, baffled by her appearance.
"Mary Jane." Mary introduced.
"Oh—!" Thinking it was for the apology, she quickly called Urara, "Urara! Mary's here!"
And in a swift moment, Urara crept up from behind, her eyes lit up, ears perked, and her tail wagged like it was about to take off.
It was Mary Jane. One she had been waiting for—one she hoped to apologize.
"Mary-chan!" Urara greeted her wholeheartedly as she ran toward her with her usual grin, but Mary remained stern, her eyes like ice, as if she came without will but only duty.
"That's far enough," said Mary, her hand raised like a barrier, stopping Urara mid-step.
Her mother, startled by Mary's sharp tone, felt her smile falter in an instant.
"I'm not here to apologize or make friends. I'm simply here to clear up the incident Urara and I shared," Mary continued flatly.
"The only reason I retaliated against Urara was because of her action."
Like her father, her words cut through the air like shards, infuriating Urara's mother.
"What do you mean by her action?! You hit her—you were in the wrong!" her mother shot back.
"Not when she hit me first."
The sentence froze her mother in disbelief.
Mary pressed on, her face stiff but her fingers twitching at her side. "Urara hit me first because she was envious of my ability on the track. She wasn't happy that I am far superior to her, and that I am winning against her. In response to her unjust retaliation, I simply acted in self-defense. As many would."
"You dare accuse my daughter of hitting you?!" Urara's mother barked.
Then, with one step closer to Mary. Mary immediately flinched at the step and her shout, her shoulders shrinking, eyes darting down as if shielding herself from an invisible blow.
"I'm so—" Mary started, her apology almost tumbling out.
But then, with a jolt, she bit them back, locking her lips, forcing her trembling body to stand tall. Her right arm clenched right onto her left hand, as though she were bracing herself.
With her shifted rigidity demeanor, body language. Urara's mother narrowed her eyes. Feeling something was off. Deeply off.
The girl's stuttering, her trembling, the way she reacted to a mere shout—it didn't add up.
She wasn't standing here out of pride. She was standing here because something, or someone, had left her no choice.
Then her mother noticed something odd on Mary's face. A small blemish—no, a bruise—that had been poorly hidden under a layer of makeup. The faint purple spot betrayed the truth, struck by something hard.
She was shocked. With concern, she knelt, trying to meet Mary's eyes, trying to understand what was really happening.
But Mary instantly recoiled, stepping back from them.
"Please…" she whispered, her voice shaking, "please… just stay away from me…"
Her hands trembled as she added, "I don't want any trouble, so… just keep Urara away from me… I don't want to hurt anybody… I don't want to…" Her words broke off as a shiver ran down her neck.
Then, with a turn to her back, wanting to depart or 'escape', something caught her gaze.
There, in the distance, half-hidden but unmistakable, was the looming figure of her father—watching, waiting.
Spying from afar, far enough to remain unseen by most, yet close enough for Mary to feel the noose tighten around her throat.
Her breathing grew unsteady. Panic coated her voice as she tried to close the conversation quickly.
"Like I said…" Mary stammered, recalling, "I only retaliated against your daughter because of self-defense, nothing else. Goodbye!"
The words spilled out like rehearsed lines.
Then, without a chance for Urara or her mother to deliver a response, she abruptly spun and dashed toward the station.
And just so, she vanished, so too did her father, retreating into the distance.
Meanwhile, Urara's mother was left speechless, feeling concern in her chest, and turned to her daughter, who was still bewildered by the entire scene unfolding.
"Urara, come," her mother gestured Urara back into their abode.
With their door shut, she then knelt down, using a gentle but firm voice.
"Urara… I think it's better if you stop interacting with Mary," she said carefully.
"I don't like to say this, but… It's better you stay away from her."
Urara tilted her head, her ears drooping slightly in confusion. "But Mary-chan is my friend. It's not right for Urara to abandon her friend!"
Her mother sighed. "Can't you see? Mary didn't want to be your friend. If she did, she wouldn't hurt you in the first place. And besides, things get complicated. It will be better just for us to leave them alone. Find a better friend!"
The words struck Urara. Her ears waned, her tail stilled, and for once, her boundless energy seemed to dim.
"But... I want to be her friend," Urara muttered.
"Trust your mother, okay, sweetheart?" Her mother encouraged, "There will be more people who can't wait to be your friend! It's just that not everyone wanted to be friends with."
"It's better for us, and for them too! You don't want to see her getting hurt now, would you?" her mother assured.
With a lethargic nod, Urara packed up and went to school.
Minutes later, on her walk to school, there was no humming, no bouncing steps. Just silence. Her small lips curled down as she whispered to herself:
"Why is everyone so mean to each other… Why can't everyone just be friends…"
Her steps slowed, and sadness threatened to swallow her—until, with sudden vigor, she straightened her back.
*Slap!*
*Slap!*
She patted her cheeks with both hands, as if forcing herself awake.
"No! Urara is not giving up!" she declared aloud, startling a passing bystander who was just behind her.
"Urara will keep trying to reconcile with Mary-chan! Urara will never abandon her friends!" her declaration followed.
With that, her eyes lit up once more, her tail wagged again, and her beaming smile returned.
She then cheerfully hummed her song, and her steps were bouncy once again, filling her morning air like nothing could ever stop her.