LM0040 Shattered Illusions, Moonlit Truths

"Mimi. Mimi. Mizuki!"

Her parents' voices chased after her, but she didn't stop. Their words, their expectations, their endless meddling—it was too much. Frustration burned beneath her skin, fueled by her mother's nagging, the hypocrisy of their so-called perfect marriage, and the gnawing sensation that something crucial, something buried deep in her mind, remained just out of reach.

It all crashed down at once, a storm of emotions so overwhelming that the only thing she could do was run.

She reached her room and slammed the door behind her. The echo rang through the silence, but it did nothing to calm the tempest inside her. Without thinking, she crossed the room and collapsed onto her bed, burying herself beneath the heavy weight of her blanket, as if it could shield her from everything—her anger, her guilt, the memories pressing at the edges of her consciousness.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, hot and unbidden. She hadn't meant to say those things. In this life, she had sworn she wouldn't meddle in her parents' choices. They were adults. Their marriage—or whatever was left of it—was their business. Yet the words had burst from her like a wound finally splitting open, raw and unfiltered.

Mizuki knew the truth. Her mother wasn't ignorant of her father's affair; she had known for years and still chosen to stay. Just like before. Just like in Mizuki's past life. Who was she to interfere? Who was she to judge?

But even knowing this didn't make the bitterness easier to swallow. It didn't erase the sting of watching her mother pretend, of hearing her father speak of love when she knew how hollow those words were. And it certainly didn't stop the ache in her heart—the one that whispered of all the things she wished had been different.

Yes, it was personal. And yet, no matter how hard she tried to distance herself, she was still caught in the middle of it all.

Ignorance was bliss. But she was no longer that ignorant Mizuki Wolfe of the past. She couldn't unsee the cracks in their marriage, couldn't pretend their love was anything more than a fragile performance held together by routine and social expectation. Every day in this house was a silent play—smiles that never reached their eyes, glances laced with resentment, words spoken out of duty rather than devotion.

She feared that if she stayed, there would come a day when she could no longer hold back. A day when the words she swallowed would spill from her lips like venom, poisoning the fragile illusion they all clung to. And when that day came, she wouldn't just shatter their pretense—she might destroy whatever remained of her family's dignity.

She had to leave.

The realization settled like a stone in her chest. But as soon as she embraced the thought, a new question emerged, more terrifying than the decision itself.

"But where do I go?"

Her breath hitched. The walls of her room, once a sanctuary, now felt suffocating. She had money, but not endless wealth. Connections, but not the kind that would take her in without a price. For all the wisdom she carried from her past, she had never truly been alone.

Could she survive without the Wolfe name protecting her? Could she step out of this house and forge her own path, untethered from the expectations that had shaped her since birth?

The answer should have been easy.

But as she lay beneath her weighted blanket, a weight heavier than any blanket pressed against her soul.

Doubt.

Fear.

And the painful, undeniable truth—she had spent lifetimes trapped, and she still had no idea how to be free.

Exhaustion crept into her limbs, blurring the edges of her consciousness. The war in her heart raged against the lull of sleep, but in the end, her body betrayed her.

Her eyelids grew heavy. Her breathing slowed. And before she could fight it—before she could come up with a plan, an escape, or even an answer—sleep pulled her under.

And in the depths of slumber, the dreams came.

Mizuki floated in a vast, endless void, her body adrift in a serene darkness that cradled her. Invisible waves of warmth and coolness alternated, washing over her like a soothing tide. Her mind was hazy, caught between dream and reality, as if the universe itself was gently lulling her into peace.

Then, a whisper sliced through the stillness—a voice both strange and achingly familiar, resonating deep within her soul, tugging at her heart with unexplainable force.

"Mizuki… Mizuki…"

Her chest tightened. Who's calling me?

"Yes?" she murmured, her lips barely moving. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. The world before her shifted.

She was suspended in the infinite expanse of outer space, the stars scattered like a brilliant tapestry across the void. Below her, the moon loomed—so close that every crater, ridge, and shadow on its silvered surface was visible in stunning clarity. Its soft, glowing light bathed her in an ethereal glow, cool and piercing. Beyond the moon, Earth hung like a fragile jewel, a swirl of blue and green, its beauty stark against the vast blackness.

"Where… Where is this? Why am I here?" Mizuki whispered, her voice trembling with awe and a growing sense of fear.

Wait. She knew this place.

"This..."

This was the place. The missing memories… She had returned. That could only mean—

Her eyes widened as she turned, searching. If this was the same, then she should find—

"Hello, Mizuki," a soft voice greeted.

Mizuki's gaze landed on the goddess standing before her. She wore a flowing silver robe that shimmered like moonlight itself, embroidered with symbols of stars and crescent moons. The fabric moved gracefully, as though stirred by an invisible breeze, glimmering softly with each motion. A belt of luminous pearls adorned her waist, and her hair—long, silvery, cascading like liquid starlight—framed her perfect face.

Her eyes were deep pools of molten silver, gazing at Mizuki with infinite wisdom and gentle kindness. A crescent moon gleamed faintly on her forehead, marking her as something beyond this world.

Mizuki's breath hitched.

"You're here. You're real... Selene."