My Name
To put it mildly—what a complete disaster.
Violet’s life had only lasted five years, yet it was already so dramatic.
The man who might have been my father had probably disappeared right after she was born. She'd only heard his voice—maybe because as a baby, her eyesight hadn't developed yet.
Her mother had been beautiful. Skilled at magic, she'd started Violet's training when she turned three. "We'll begin with the basics," she'd said, so they hadn't gotten to actual spellcasting yet. Objectively speaking, starting at three seemed ridiculously early, but considering Japan's elite early education system, maybe this wasn't so unusual for gifted children?
Not that I have any personal memories of that, though...
Then there was the "bald-fat-ugly trio" lord who'd been harassing her mother to "become his mistress."
After Mama's death, he'd suddenly shown up at their home—basically kidnapping her—only for his ill-mannered brat of a daughter to steal the pendant Mama had given her. When Violet tried to take it back, the little monster pushed her down the stairs.
After that commotion, they'd apparently declared her dead—though she'd probably just hit her head hard enough to lose consciousness. Their excuses were so cliché it was almost funny.
The bald fatso had mentioned adoption papers too.
Honestly? Thank god they threw her out. Becoming family with those human trash bags? No thanks. She'd have been their personal punching bag in no time.
As for the butler...
"Evidence disposal? Just dump her in the next town over."
Making her look like a homeless urchin before tossing her in the garbage dump.
Well, if they'd chosen the river or forest instead, she might have died for real, so this was the best possible outcome.
But really... pfft.
What a laughable parade of absolute human garbage.
Her memories had fully returned in that trash heap, but this didn't seem like possession or reincarnation. More like she'd been born as Violet, but the trauma had been so severe that her adult Japanese consciousness had woken up instead. Which meant her original self was almost certainly dead.
More importantly—what now?
As a five-year-old officially declared dead, she couldn't return to that house. So what should she do?
"Mama... Papa's gone too. I don't have a home anymore..."
I let tears well up in my eyes, clutching the cup with both hands while letting my lower lip tremble slightly.
Well, technically I don't know if that Papa's actually dead... but it's not exactly a lie.
Don't call me calculating.
Back in Japan, I’d cringe at those overly-cute actresses playing innocent, but now I was five!
Mama's genes had blessed me with this face—I will use every advantage I have!
"Land sakes alive! A wee tadpole like ye, all alone in this big ol' world?"
Alke—the giant bear-man—was now full-on sobbing, his massive shoulders shaking.
(Success... though he's taking this way harder than expected! And—oh no—he's gotten the wrong idea!)
"I just slipped in the river! It was an accident!"
“Now don't ye fret none, sugarplum. This old bear's got plenty room in his den. Why, I'd be right honored if ye'd—hic—if ye'd let me be yer kinfolk!"
Jackpot!
Though Mr. Alke’s complete lack of suspicion toward a random child was slightly concerning.
I beamed up at him with practiced radiance:
"I can really stay? Thankies!"
Dammit, the baby talk slipped out again.
“Ayo, Violet.”
Then something unexpected happened.
When his huge paw gently patted my head—calloused but impossibly warm—real tears suddenly spilled over.
The warmth of his hand, the safety of this place... it was the first kindness I’d known since Mama's arms.
All my adult calculations evaporated, leaving only the raw, wounded heart of a five-year-old who'd been holding her breath for weeks.
For the first time since that bloodstained day—
I, Violet, wept like the child I was.
What do you think about this chapter?
