LM0071 Finally Found

By evening, two more children arrived at St. Anne, and Mizuki made sure they received their share of toys and books. After distributing the last of the gifts to the children in the yard, she stood still for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the scene. The children's faces glowed with excitement, their hands clutched around their new toys, and the air was filled with the sound of happy voices and laughter. It was a beautiful sight, but a tug of unease lingered in her chest, an unsettled feeling she couldn't shake.

"Is he the last one?" Mizuki asked Eugene, her eyes following a young boy running to his mother, holding his new toy tightly.

Eugene paused, his gaze scanning the yard. When he spoke, his voice was lower, more cautious. "Actually, there's a new arrival. A little girl, only two years old. But she won't leave her mother's side."

Mizuki's heart skipped a beat. Two years old. The image of a small child, fragile and innocent, immediately took hold of her mind. She fought to contain the rush of emotions that surged within her. This could be the moment. She had been waiting for it—hoping, praying it would come. It had to be them.

"So why aren't they here?" Mizuki asked, her voice steady but laced with anticipation.

Eugene's expression softened, and he sighed deeply. "The mother's in rough shape. They arrived last night, and it's a miracle they made it this far. The mother was incredibly brave—she carried her child all the way from Malaysia. She told us what happened before she collapsed."

Mizuki's thoughts raced. It was them. The family she had been searching for. She could feel the weight of destiny, the pull of something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she couldn't turn away from it now.

"I need to see them," she said, her voice quiet yet firm, betraying none of the overwhelming emotions swirling inside.

Eugene hesitated, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "Mizuki, the sight may be... difficult."

But Mizuki's resolve was unshakable. "I need to see them. I'm ready."

Before they headed to the medical ward, Mizuki returned to her car to grab the PigCat plushie she had purchased earlier. She held it tightly in her arms as she walked back toward Eugene, feeling the soft weight of it against her chest. The small gesture felt like the first real connection to the family she had failed to protect in her past life. This time, she would not fail them. She couldn't.

They made their way to the clinic, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air. Mizuki's heart raced with each step, each moment bringing her closer to the family she had lost. She entered the dimly lit room and immediately spotted the small, curled-up figure at the foot of the bed. The child was so small, so fragile, her face hidden beneath a blanket. Mizuki's breath caught in her throat.

It was Rose. Little Peanut.

The sight of her—so small, so vulnerable—was overwhelming. Mizuki felt a wave of emotions surge through her, a rush of relief, joy, and sorrow all at once. But she fought to stay composed. This wasn't about her—it was about them. This time, she would make sure they were safe, no matter what.

Her eyes moved to the woman lying unconscious in the bed. Mizuki's heart tightened as she recognized Lizbeth, though the woman before her was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was thin and frail, the result of too much suffering and not enough care. Her face was bruised and swollen, one eye nearly shut from the injuries. A cut ran across her cheek, and her lips were cracked. Bandages covered her arms and one of her feet.

Mizuki's breath hitched, and tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't stop them from falling. The sight of Lizbeth, broken and battered, was almost too much to bear. The woman she had known, strong and full of life, was gone, replaced by someone whose body told the story of too much pain.

Eugene, who had been standing silently beside her, moved closer. His hand gently rested on her back, offering quiet support. "I warned you it would be hard."

Mizuki nodded, unable to speak. The weight of the moment pressed down on her chest, suffocating her. The guilt was overwhelming—guilt for the suffering they had endured, guilt for not being there when they needed her most. And beneath it all was the crushing realization that this pain was the same as the fear they had experienced in her past life.

When Lizbeth and Rose died, they had been alone, scared, and in pain. Mizuki had failed them then, and the guilt was suffocating. But this time, she wouldn't fail them. She couldn't.

"I'm sorry," Mizuki whispered, her voice barely audible. She excused herself, needing a moment to regain her composure.

In the restroom, Mizuki stared at her reflection in the mirror, the tears still streaming down her face. Her chest ached, and the weight of the past seemed unbearable. The mistakes, the pain, the lives she had failed to protect—it all felt like too much. But as she looked at herself, a new determination began to form. She couldn't change what had happened, but she could give Lizbeth and Rose the future they had been denied. A future filled with love, safety, and protection.

Taking a deep breath, Mizuki steadied herself. She wasn't going to break down. Not now. Not when she had the chance to make things right.

When Mizuki returned to the ward, she was surprised to see Peanut awake. The little girl was sitting on the edge of the bed, nibbling on a small snack. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she took in her surroundings. She seemed more alert than Mizuki had expected, and her quiet presence offered a glimmer of hope.

Mizuki's heart squeezed as she looked at the small child, so fragile, so innocent. She was alive. She was here. And for the first time in a long while, Mizuki felt a surge of relief. The pain of the past was still there, but the present—this moment—felt like a new beginning.

She slowly approached the bed, her eyes meeting Peanut's. The little girl blinked up at her, her expression curious, before offering a shy smile. It was small, but it was enough to break through the darkness.

Mizuki knelt beside the bed, her hands trembling as she offered the PigCat plushie to Peanut. "This is for you," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Peanut hesitated for a moment before reaching out with small hands to take the plushie. She hugged it close to her chest, her face lighting up with a smile that was so pure and trusting it broke something inside Mizuki. Through her tears, Mizuki couldn't help but smile back.

This was it. This was where it began. This time, she would protect them. She would be the protector they needed. No more mistakes. No more failure. Lizbeth and Rose would never be alone again.