Climbing the tree with small legs is rather difficult. He manages to get into the treehouse. Lying on his back, he opens his mouth wide to breathe. He needs to work out. Before that, he needs to eat a lot and grow up faster. When he catches his breath, he looks around the treehouse. It"s full of books. He checks the t.i.tles. Most of these books are on strategy and philosophy. He stands on his toes to reach the old photo frame on lying on the pile of the books.
In the picture, the man is carrying a toddler in his arms. The toddler has grey eyes and a bright smile in the picture. With one glance, Yuta can tell that the toddler is not Yuki. Why? It"s his intuition. The smile is too bright. The eyes are too naive. Maybe a toddler is supposed to be like that, but he can"t imagine her in such a manner. Even at her current age, there"s sharp intelligence in her eyes. She"s only six, but she"s not like the average kids. If it"s not her, who is this toddler? How old is this photo?
The man in the picture is not Maddox for certainty. He has average built, dark eyes, combed back dark hair, and a friendly smile. n.o.body will find any flaws in the picture. But, Yuta knows better than take this picture at face value. It"s not a smile that a father shows for his child. It"s a smile that hides secrets. Yuki has never shown that kind of smile to him, but she was always full of secrets. Seeing the way she is currently fooling the world as a boy at the age of six, she learned the art of deception at a young age. That"s right. Even if she"s not reborn like him, Kiris.h.i.+ma Yuki is not an average child. He can"t ever underestimate her.
He takes the picture out of the frame and puts it inside his pocket. He walks out of the treehouse and steps on the branch leaning toward the window. He nearly loses balance when a gust of wind threatens to throw off his light body. He bends his knees and lunges toward the window.
"f.u.c.k!" He lets out a curse when he grabs on to the edge of the window. He looks down. It"s on the second floor. If he falls, he won"t die. No, he"s not an adult. He pulls himself up and rolls over, falling on the hard floor with a loud thump. He winces in pain. He opens his eyes.
The room is dark and quiet. There are so many books. Does this family spend their fortune on only books? Right, the woman liked to read in her past life too. She would read anything she could get her hands on. She used to force him to go to the book fair with her. Sometimes, she would read books to him until he fell asleep and say things like it was her way of telling him that she loved him.
He snorts. Sure! Shooting him was also a way to tell him that she loved him, right? He shakes his head and punches his chest, trying to shake his feelings away. He exhales. His gaze falls on the dark liquid on the floor. What"s this? He touches it with his finger and sniffs. Blood.
What happened here?
He hides beneath the bed when he hears the sound of door opening. Yuki walks inside the room with a book in her hand. She puts it in the bookshelf. There"s a strange smile on her lips. Her smiles disappear when she sees the blood. She goes to bed and pulls the blanket. Next, he watches her throw it on the blood. She uses her foot to wipe it. Her eyes are devoid of any emotion as if it"s usual for her to clean the blood on the floor. She sighs and kicks the blanket under the bed. It hits Yuta"s face. He pushes it away from him. Does she know what she"s doing?
She looks up at the ceiling with unhappiness in her eyes. "I have been a good child, haven"t I?"
He notices the red handprints on her pale neck. His face contorts in anger. Who did this to her? That person deserves to get their throats stabbed. He grits his teeth. He needs to find out.
"Being good isn"t enough," Yuki speaks to himself in a singsong voice. It"s not enough. His mother is never happy. His grandfather is not happy either. His father is also gone. He goes to the table in the corner of the room. A black violin case is lying on that table. This is the violin that his father bought for her. The name of this violin is Christopher.
"There"s a price that one must pay to reach perfection," Yuki mumbles to himself as if he"s possessed by someone else. He closes his eyes and begins to play the incomplete piece left behind by his grandmother.
This is the first time he"s listening to her play the music. Her back is facing him. His head peeks out. Lost in the music filled with despair, pain, and longing for something that is impossible to grasp, he forgets to blink.
Can a small child play something so sad and beautiful at the same time? These feelings are not something that a child should have. If she had these feelings when she was six, what did these feelings become when she became an adult?
As the rhythm begins to change, he can almost see a play happening in front of his eyes. In the alley illuminated by the yellow street lights, there"s a man and a woman. The woman points the gun at the man. There"s a smile in her eyes. The man is looking at her with confusion and shock. He opens his mouth to ask why. She shoots him. His body slams against the wall.
Even if it hurts to look at her, he raises his head to meet her eyes. She gazes at him the same way she always did when she held him with love. Those eyes are the same eyes when she read those books to him. He falls into a daze, knowing he"s going to die by her hands.
Her lips curl up into a smile. She pulls the trigger one last time and he closes his eyes wondering why.
The music stops. The tale is incomplete and so is the song. Yuki turns around and sees him staring at her with widened eyes. He exclaims, "You rabid dog, how did you get in?"
"I know now." Yuta places his hand on his chest. Pain swells up in his eyes. He gasps for breath as if he"s just been shot. "I know why you did it."