LM0030 Last Moon Mini Theater II: The Rainy Night in Colorado

It was a rainy night in Colorado when everything had changed. The air smelled of damp earth, and the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the mountains. Mizuki stood at the hotel window, gazing out at the wet streets, her thoughts drifting. She had accompanied her father and Pablo on this trip to inspect one of her father's businesses—a row of small, nondescript shops nestled on a quiet street. Mizuki couldn't help but feel it was all a waste of time. These stores hardly qualified as branches; they barely seemed like businesses at all. But her father insisted on being present, as he always did with every little detail of his empire.

She hadn't questioned him. She never did.

The uneasy feeling that had settled in her stomach grew stronger as the rain drummed against the glass. Something about the trip didn't sit right, but Mizuki couldn't pinpoint exactly what. She glanced at Pablo, who was sitting on the couch with the television on, absently flipping through channels. The dim light from the screen flickered across his face, his expression unreadable.

Mizuki pushed the feeling away and decided to get some air. Maybe the cool rain would calm her thoughts. As she stepped outside, the sharp smell of wet pavement and pine filled her lungs, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself for warmth.

The streets were nearly empty, the city consumed by the downpour. But then, as she walked down the narrow path near the hotel, she saw them. Her father stood in the light of a streetlamp, just outside a small cafe. He was talking to a woman, her figure tall and graceful, a dark umbrella shielding them both from the rain. Mizuki slowed her steps, trying to make sense of the scene before her.

Her father laughed at something the woman said, a soft, easy sound that made Mizuki pause. For a moment, it felt... normal. There was nothing out of the ordinary. But then, the woman moved closer, and Mizuki saw her father reach out, taking her hand in his.

It was the smallest of gestures. A kiss to her fingers, gentle and brief, a casual touch that, for some reason, rattled Mizuki more than it should have. She frowned, confused by the sharp jolt of unease that surged through her.

But then the woman did something else.

She cupped Mizuki's father's face, her fingers brushing his skin with a tenderness that seemed to linger too long. Mizuki watched, her heart hammering in her chest, her feet frozen to the spot. And then the woman leaned in.

Mizuki couldn't see clearly from where she stood. She could only imagine what came next. Her father's face turned toward the woman, his lips parting slightly. The way the woman moved, the way her eyes closed, it all seemed to suggest something... more.

The kiss, though, wasn't visible, and Mizuki, overwhelmed by a strange mix of shock and confusion, turned and ran back to the hotel.

Her breath was shallow as she fumbled with the door. Once inside, she slammed it behind her, leaning against it, trying to steady her racing heart. The weight of what she'd just seen felt too heavy to carry.

Pablo looked up from the couch, his brow furrowed. "Mizuki?" he called softly, his voice laced with concern. "What happened?"

She didn't respond. She couldn't. The image of her father and that woman was burned into her mind. It was all too much. She couldn't find the words. Not now.

Instead, she walked past him, retreating to her room. The door closed behind her with a final click, and the room felt suffocatingly silent. Mizuki dropped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts a chaotic blur.

Her father... the kiss... her mother.

The feeling of betrayal gnawed at her chest. She knew her mother wasn't perfect, but the idea of her father betraying her had never crossed her mind. How could he? How could he stand there and act as if nothing was wrong? And that woman, that stranger—didn't she see what he was doing?

As the night stretched on, the ache in Mizuki's heart intensified. The rain still poured outside, a steady rhythm that matched the thunderous pounding in her head. She tossed and turned, but sleep would not come. The image of her father's smile, the softness in his eyes as he touched the woman's hand, haunted her.

It wasn't just the betrayal that hurt. It was the sudden, shocking realization of her mother's indifference. Mizuki had always believed in the sanctity of love, the way it was supposed to endure, to protect. But now, she wondered—could it really be that simple? Could love be so fragile?

Days passed, and Mizuki's unease only grew. She couldn't shake the feeling that everything she had known, everything she had believed in, was a lie. And soon, she couldn't carry the weight of it any longer.

She boarded a flight back to Amsterdam, needing to see her mother, needing to hear something that might bring clarity, that might give her peace. She couldn't bear to hold this secret alone.

When she finally arrived, her mother was waiting for her at the door, her face warm and welcoming as always. Kai's presence was a comfort, even if it felt hollow now. Mizuki didn't waste any time. She needed to speak, to confess. She had to tell someone.

And so, in the quiet of her mother's home, Mizuki spoke, her voice trembling.

"Mom, I saw him... with her. I saw them kiss."

Her mother didn't react the way Mizuki had expected. There was no anger, no outrage, no concern. Instead, Kai smiled, a soft, almost amused smile that made Mizuki's stomach drop.

"I knew about her, darling," her mother said, her voice light, carefree. "I don't care that your father met with her. It's not important."

Mizuki's heart lurched. She blinked, trying to understand. "What do you mean? How can you not care?"

Her mother's smile deepened, her eyes softening with something like affection. "Your father is fulfilling his role well. As a father, a husband, and a son. That's all that matters, Mizuki. Don't ask questions about unnecessary things. Let it go."

The words hit Mizuki like a punch to the gut. She stared at her mother, her mind spinning. The image of her parents' loving, perfect relationship—everything she had believed in—shattered in that instant. It had all been a lie. A facade.

Her mother, who had seemed so kind, so understanding, had known. She had known all along. And she didn't care.

Mizuki stood there, frozen, her chest aching with the weight of the truth. The woman she had thought was her rock, her mother, was just as much a part of the lie. She had accepted her father's infidelities without a second thought. All the love Mizuki had thought was pure had been built on a foundation of deceit.

Her father, her mother—none of it was real. Not anymore.