Chapter 12 – Yukinoshita Yukino Under Attack by a Mysterious Entity!
The gentle sound of water trickling echoed through the night.
Darkness had blanketed the city, yet unlike in the past, the modern night glowed brighter than ever. Neon lights shimmered and danced across the streets, painting the night in dazzling hues that outshone the day.
Click.
Inside her apartment, Yukinoshita Yukino closed the book she had been reading.
Her eyes shifted to the wall clock—9:30 p.m.
For most people, it was the hour when the night truly came alive, when laughter and noise filled the streets. But not for Yukino.
To her, ten o'clock marked the beginning of rest—a sacred routine she never broke. She lived with discipline and order, ensuring that her mornings were always fresh and clear. Unless something urgent arose, she never stayed up late.
The apartment lights were dimmed, leaving only a warm amber glow.
Shadows danced softly across the room, blending with the faint golden light. The atmosphere was calm, still, and strangely comforting.
"It's getting late… time for bed, I suppose."
She let out a small yawn as she stretched, speaking softly to herself.
Her body, accustomed to a structured routine, instinctively knew when to rest. She didn't even need to check the clock—her body had already told her it was time.
Tap… Tap…
Wearing cat-patterned slippers, Yukino walked leisurely toward the bathroom to begin her nightly routine—washing her face, brushing her teeth, and preparing for sleep.
She squeezed toothpaste onto her brush, filled a glass of water, and began brushing her teeth.
Foam filled her mouth as she looked into the mirror.
That was when something… strange happened.
Her reflection—"Yukinoshita Yukino" inside the mirror—suddenly glowed faintly red in the eyes.
The usual calm elegance that defined her was gone, replaced by a sinister aura, sharp and demonic.
Yukino herself didn't notice. She continued brushing absentmindedly.
Swish.
When she finished, she spat into the sink and bent down to rinse her mouth. Water splashed softly against porcelain.
But her reflection did not move.
While Yukino bent forward, the figure in the mirror slowly lifted its head instead.
Its calm blue eyes twisted into blood-red slits—vertical pupils, glowing like a beast's under the moonlight.
A faint hiss echoed.
Then, the reflection raised its hand… and pressed it against the glass.
The mirror rippled.
And a hand slowly emerged from it.
In the silence of her apartment bathroom, the sight looked like something ripped straight from a nightmare.
At that moment, Yukino lifted her head—and their eyes met.
Her body froze.
A chilling cold raced down her spine, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.
What she saw defied reason. It wasn't a trick of light, nor a hallucination. It was real.
As someone who believed in logic and reason, Yukino now found herself face-to-face with something beyond comprehension—something supernatural.
"Ka—"
Crash!
Before she could scream, the hand from the mirror clamped down over her face, covering her mouth entirely.
Terror flooded through her veins.
Fear. Panic. Cold. Trembling.
No matter how strong she pretended to be, at her core, Yukinoshita Yukino was still a teenage girl.
And faced with something like this—anyone would be terrified.
"Yukinoshita Yukino. It's been a long time."
The figure in the mirror spoke.
Her tone was calm, but her voice sliced through Yukino's mind like ice.
Those words carried something deeper than malice—an ancient, festering hatred.
Yukino's heart pounded violently. She couldn't move. It felt like she was trapped inside a horror film, surrounded by darkness that breathed.
Was she… going to die here?
No.
She didn't want to die.
Not yet.
She hadn't been recognized by her sister. She hadn't earned the acknowledgment of her parents.
She still had dreams—things she wanted to accomplish.
And amidst her spiraling fear, one name flashed in her mind.
Yukinoshita Akira.
She still owed him an apology.
For years, she had treated him with coldness—mocked him, pushed him away, even hurt him without cause. Akira had done nothing wrong. It was her stubborn pride, her resentment, that created that distance.
If only… she could have one more chance to apologize.
Shhhk.
The figure in the mirror kept emerging.
Her form—identical to Yukino's. Same face. Same body. Same height.
Only one difference.
The eyes.
Human eyes… and the eyes of a monster.
"Yukinoshita Yukino, you little wretch… we finally meet again. I promised I'd make you regret everything."
The reflection's voice was soaked in madness. Her lips curled into a twisted grin devoid of warmth.
Despite their identical appearance, Yukino instinctively knew—this thing wasn't her.
But the way she spoke… it was as if they knew each other.
Yukino's eyes widened in shock and confusion.
"What's wrong? Seeing your own face made you forget who I am? Then… how about this?"
Her body began to distort.
Bones cracked, flesh twisted, and her entire frame rippled like melting wax.
The familiar face reshaped—morphing into someone new.
A woman's face—warped by rage and hatred. Though her features were twisted and dark, Yukino recognized her instantly.
She knew that face.
"…You…"
"Oh, you do remember me? How flattering, Yukinoshita Yukino."
Still clutching Yukino's face with her cold, pale hand, the woman smiled—a grotesque smile full of bitterness.
Her expression was seething with fury. A living embodiment of vengeance.
Yukino's breath caught in her throat.
The woman's name surfaced in her mind.
Watanabe Miki.
Her former classmate.
Years ago, Miki had led a group of girls to bully Yukino relentlessly.
But because Yukino was the daughter of the prestigious Yukinoshita family, the incident hadn't ended well for Miki.
She was expelled.
Her family's reputation crumbled. Her parents lost their jobs—crushed under the weight of social and legal pressure from the Yukinoshita household.
Yukino thought it was all over.
But now—this night—standing before her was that same girl.
Or rather… what was left of her.
No longer human.
A manifestation of pure hatred.
A curse given form.
Like a demon crawling up from the depths of hell—returning to claim her soul.
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