The Evil Smile of the Kuchisake-onna

The night was as thick as ink, shrouding the small town in a deathly stillness. Suzuko huddled at the entrance of the convenience store on the street corner, her eyes blankly fixed on the opposite side of the street. One by one, the street lamps went out, as if being devoured by the darkness, leaving behind nothing but a profound silence.

Suzuko instinctively touched the mask on her face. It was the last thing her mother had stuffed into her hand before passing away. Her mother, on the verge of death, had grasped her hand with all her remaining strength and whispered in a hoarse and broken voice, "Put it on... Never take it off."

Since that day, the mask had become an inseparable part of Suzuko's face. She knew all too well how terrifying her face was—the ferocious wound that ran from the corner of her mouth all the way to the base of her ear was like a grotesque smile forcefully torn out by a demon, one that could never fade away.

The automatic door of the convenience store slid open with a "whoosh," shattering the stillness of the night. A female high school student in a sailor uniform walked out. The moment their eyes met, the girl froze. Horror and disgust instantly spread across her face. She quickened her pace in a flurry, muttering under her breath, "It's that strange girl wearing a mask again."

Suzuko flinched as if she had been whipped harshly. She slowly lowered her head and turned to leave. Just then, a bone-chilling gust of wind howled past. The wind seemed to carry a malicious intent, precisely knocking off her mask. Suzuko reached out in panic to catch it, but it was too late. The mask fluttered to the ground. The female high school student instinctively looked back. With just one glance, she let out an ear-piercing scream, "Ku... Kuchisake-onna!" Her voice sliced through the night sky, and then she turned and fled for her life.

Suzuko stood there, frozen. The wound on her cheek began to throb dully, as if a demon had been awakened. The bloody night from twenty years ago resurfaced in her mind like a nightmare: Her mother had hastily hidden her in the closet. Through the crack of the closet door, she saw a tall woman wearing a mask standing at the door. The woman's voice was icy cold, as if it had come from the depths of hell, "Am I beautiful?" Her mother trembled all over, her voice laced with sobs, "V... Very beautiful..."

However, the woman suddenly ripped off her mask, revealing that terrifying gash. The corner of her mouth was split all the way to the ear, and her eerily white teeth glinted in the darkness. Then, she pulled out a sharp pair of scissors from behind her. With a flash of cold light, her mother's mouth corner was mercilessly cut open, and blood spattered everywhere. "This way, you can be as beautiful as me," the woman said in a cold and eerie voice. Suzuko covered her mouth tightly, desperately suppressing her sobs. She was horrified to find that the woman's face was exactly the same as hers now.

Suddenly, there came a series of soft footsteps from behind. Suzuko spun around sharply. Under the street lamp, a woman with flowing long hair stood there quietly. She was wearing a blood-stained kimono. Her long hair danced wildly in the wind, and she tightly gripped a rusty pair of scissors in her hand, with dried blood still caked on the blades. "Am I beautiful?" the woman asked, her voice sounding like the wailing of countless lost souls.

Suzuko stepped back in horror. Her back slammed into the glass wall of the convenience store with a thud. The woman advanced step by step, and with each step, the smell of blood in the air grew stronger. Suzuko could clearly see the faintly visible, hideous wound under the woman's mask. "Answer me!" the woman's voice suddenly rose sharply, filled with boundless anger and madness, "Am I beautiful?!"

Images of her mother's dying moments flashed through Suzuko's mind. Her mother's mouth corner had been crudely stitched with black thread, and with every word she spoke, blood would trickle down. Over the years, everyone who had seen her face had fled screaming. She also thought of her own face in the mirror, the one that always wore that eerie smile. "You are beautiful," Suzuko heard herself say in a trembling voice, "Just as beautiful as me."

The woman was taken aback for a moment, and then she burst into a harsh, hysterical laugh. She tore off her mask in one swift motion, revealing a terrifying gash identical to Suzuko's. Suzuko suddenly realized that the woman was herself, and she was the woman. They were bound by the same curse. "Well then..." the woman slowly raised the scissors, and the blades glinted coldly in the moonlight, "Let's make ourselves even more beautiful."

Suzuko did not try to dodge. The moment the sharp scissors pierced her mouth corner, she felt a strange, almost maniacal pleasure. Blood streamed down her chin in a steady flow, yet she grinned and let out an eerie laugh. At that moment, she finally understood her mother's choice all those years ago and why she had become like this after that night. Because some wounds were passed down through generations, like a curse deeply ingrained in the marrow, impossible to escape.

Suzuko bent down to pick up the scissors on the ground. Step by step, she dragged her long shadow and walked towards the convenience store with the lights on in the distance. As the automatic door sensed her approach, it slowly opened with a "ding-dong," breaking the silence inside the store. The cashier looked up and instantly turned deathly pale. He gasped in horror and involuntarily shrank back. "Am I beautiful?" Suzuko raised the corner of her mouth, revealing a chilling smile. The smile tugged at the wound on her mouth corner, and blood welled up again.

Suddenly, ear-piercing, heart-rending screams filled the convenience store, but Suzuko ignored them. At that moment, the only sounds in her ears were the "click-click" of the scissors and her mother's faint murmur from her deathbed, "Never take it off..." But she knew that some things could never be hidden, no matter what. Things like wounds, like fear, and like the curse that was deeply embedded in her blood, clinging to her like a leech. They would always find their way to her at some unexpected moment, like evil spirits coming to claim their due, and transform her completely into the very thing she feared the most. This was the fate of the Kuchisake-onna, and it was also her fate, Suzuko's. They would always wear that ferocious smile and search for the next "beautiful" person in the endless darkness of the night.

With blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, Suzuko walked aimlessly through the streets. The pungent smell of blood hung thick in the air, but she was already used to it. This smell of blood brought back the nightmarish memories of twenty years ago, the image of her mother's blood splattering all over the walls constantly replaying in her mind. After walking for an unknown amount of time, she came to an abandoned hospital. The rusty iron gate was half-open, and a tattered sign that read "No Admittance" hung crookedly on it, as if feebly recounting the stories of what had once happened here. Suzuko reached out and gently pushed open the iron gate. With a "creak," the sound seemed especially loud and harsh in the stillness of the night.

Inside the corridor of the hospital, a pungent smell of mildew and disinfectant filled the air, mixing together in a way that made one want to retch. Large patches of paint had peeled off the walls, revealing the dark, discolored walls beneath, like scars left by the passage of time. As soon as Suzuko stepped into the corridor, she heard a series of dragging footsteps in the distance, accompanied by the "clank-clank" sound of metal being dragged along the ground. She knew who it was—the other Kuchisake-onna. They seemed to be connected by an invisible curse, always able to sense each other's presence acutely.

A Kuchisake-onna dressed in a blood-stained nurse's uniform slowly emerged from the end of the corridor. The gash at the corner of her mouth was even more exaggerated than Suzuko's, almost splitting her entire face in half. Blood dripped from her chin, one drop after another, staining the worn floor tiles with dark red bloodstains. Their eyes met, and they exchanged a smile. There was not a trace of warmth in that smile, only endless eeriness and gloom. Then they passed each other by. This was their way of existence. They would not harm each other because they were all poor souls cursed by fate. They would only set their sights on those lucky ones with intact faces, those so-called "beautiful" people, and use the scissors in their hands to turn them into monsters just like themselves.

Suzuko walked into a consultation room. The old, dusty mirror faintly reflected her figure. She slowly raised her hand and took off her mask, and the terrifying face in the mirror came into view again. Just then, the door of the consultation room creaked open, and a young woman in a white coat appeared at the door. Her name was Saori. She was slender, with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on her nose, and she was carrying an old medical kit in her hand. "I heard some noise here," Saori said, her voice breaking the stillness of the room, "Are you injured?"

Suzuko was rooted to the spot as if she had been cast with a freezing spell. Rarely did anyone approach her on their own initiative, let alone in such a gloomy and terrifying abandoned hospital. She instinctively reached out to cover her face, but it was too late. Saori clearly saw the hideous wound on her face. However, Saori did not scream and run away like the others. Instead, she calmly walked up to Suzuko and carefully examined her wound. "This is... a very severe laceration," Saori frowned, her voice tinged with pity, "It needs to be sutured immediately."

Suzuko looked at her warily and said hoarsely, "Aren't you afraid?" Saori smiled gently. That smile actually carried a hint of warmth in the dimly lit room. "I'm a doctor. I've seen worse wounds than this. And..." She paused for a moment and looked at Suzuko sincerely, "I think you're beautiful."

These words were like a thunderclap that exploded in Suzuko's heart. For the first time in twenty years, someone had said such a thing to her. Suzuko felt a sudden heat in her eyes, and something welled up in her eyes, but she knew she couldn't cry. Because the tears of the Kuchisake-onna were blood, and if she shed them, it would only scare away this kind-hearted person in front of her.

Saori opened the medical kit, took out the needle and thread, and skillfully put on a pair of gloves. "Let me suture it for you," she said. Suzuko instinctively shook her head. "It's no use. This wound will never heal," she said. But Saori looked at her firmly. "Let me give it a try. Even if it can't heal completely, at least it can make the pain less," she said. Suzuko hesitated for a moment and finally nodded slightly.

During the suturing process, Suzuko could clearly feel the刺痛 of the needle and thread passing through her flesh, but compared to the intense pain inflicted by the scissors, this was nothing. "What's your name?" Saori asked softly as she sutured. "Suzuko," Suzuko replied. "I'm Saori," Saori said. "I'm the last doctor in this hospital. They all say this place is haunted, but I think those so-called 'ghosts' might just be poor people in need of help."

Suzuko looked at Saori's focused profile, and an inexplicable urge welled up in her heart. She really wanted to burst into tears, but she couldn't. She couldn't let Saori see her with blood and tears streaming down her face.

After the suturing was done, Saori handed Suzuko a small mirror. Suzuko looked at herself in the mirror. Although the wound at the corner of her mouth still existed, it no longer looked as ferocious as before and had become much neater. "Thank you," Suzuko said with a slight choke in her voice.

Saori packed up the medical kit and stood up. "I come here at this time every week. If you need it, I can continue to treat you," she said. Suzuko nodded silently and watched as Saori left. Just as Saori reached the door, Suzuko suddenly called out to her, "Saori." Saori stopped and turned back to look at her. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Be careful of the other Kuchisake-onna," Suzuko said with a hint of worry in her voice. "Not everyone is like me." Saori smiled. "Thank you for the reminder. But I think you all just need understanding and help."

After Saori left, Suzuko sat alone in the consultation room, gently touching the sutured corner of her mouth with her fingers. For the first time in twenty years, she felt a warmth, and for the first time, she thought that perhaps she still had a chance at redemption. But she knew in her heart that this hope was dangerous. The curse of the Kuchisake-onna was deeply ingrained and would not be easily lifted. And Saori, she was too kind, so kind that it made Suzuko afraid. Because in this cruel world, kind people often did not meet a good end, and she herself might very well be Saori's greatest threat.

Suzuko stood up and took a deep breath. She decided to leave this small town. Perhaps in some distant place, she could find a way to lift the curse; perhaps one day, she could return with a whole face and say thank you to Saori in person. But before that, she had to stay away from Saori. Because she knew that as soon as she saw Saori again, she might not be able to control herself. That impulse deeply rooted in her blood to "share beauty," along with the curse that haunted her like a shadow, could drive her to lay a hand on Saori at any moment.

Suzuko took one last look at herself in the mirror, put on her mask, and slowly walked out of the abandoned hospital. The moonlight shone on her, casting a long shadow. This time, she felt that the shadow didn't seem so lonely anymore. Because she knew that somewhere in this world, there was someone who was not afraid of her terrifying appearance, someone who was willing to extend a helping hand to her. This warmth was enough to support her in continuing to move forward in the long, dark night and to search for her own salvation.

Suzuko walked towards the distance. The wound at the corner of her mouth still ached faintly, but this time, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in the pain. Perhaps, this was the beginning of a change.