9| Fragile butterflies

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I found myself in a quaint house on the outskirts of the village. It was my paren'ts house. The dwelling itself was a testament to an era gone by, a humble Japanese abode frozen in time from the year 1800. Its wooden beams bore the scars of weather and time, giving it a rustic charm. Sliding paper doors, delicately adorned with traditional patterns, separated the rooms within. The setting was a picturesque field adorned with vegetables and crops, lovingly tended by my father.

I could see my father diligently caring for the garden, and my mother hanging laundry to dry. Excitement bubbled within me as I rushed towards my mother. She greeted me with a warm smile, asking if I was hungry. I nodded eagerly, and she assured me that she would prepare a meal for us all.

My mother, a vision of beauty with her large, contrasting eyes, resembled a lightning bolt in the midst of a storm. Despite being the daughter of my grandfather, she shared no resemblance with him; instead, she inherited the grace of her own mother, my grandmother. Always kind and ever-ready to lend a helping hand, my mother wore her pregnancy with a radiant glow. I was overjoyed at the thought of having a little brother or sister.

As my father approached, wiping sweat from his brow with a sack of potatoes, he cheerfully remarked on the bountiful harvest that year.

Yes, that year seemed promising, adorned with rainbows, yet little did I know that behind that façade lay an impending storm, ready to wreak havoc without mercy, indifferent to the goodness within people's hearts.

The memories, like fragile butterflies, danced around me, painting an idyllic picture of a family united by laughter and shared dreams. It was a poignant reminder of a time when life seemed simple, untainted by the shadows that awaited on the horizon

Then I saw a flash of white light and my mother and father smiling at me. The whisper of my mother's voice echoed in my head.

"Sweetheart, you're not coming with us just yet. There are still so many things for you to experience. Look after yourself, and always keep that beautiful smile of yours."

ººº

I slowly opened my eyes, greeted by the unfamiliar yet strangely comforting sight of a room in the Butterfly Estate. The soft rays of daylight seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow upon the walls. Confusion knitted my brows as I tried to piece together the fragments of memory scattered in my mind.

The sensation of a cool breeze brushed against my face, and a faint scent of healing herbs lingered in the air. Glancing around, I noticed the sterile white walls, the faint hum of medical equipment, and the telltale presence of a hanging IV bag. My fingers instinctively reached for the tube, tracing its path to my arm. It was then that the reality of my situation started to sink in.

My gaze shifted to the window, revealing a bright day outside. A solitary crow perched on the windowsill, its onyx eyes meeting mine. As it let out a single, happy caw, a tear glistened in its obsidian gaze, and I couldn't help but return a small, appreciative smile.

The pieces of the puzzle gradually aligned in my mind, and the vivid memories of the battle with Akaza hit me like a relentless storm. I recalled his tearful eyes, the mercy he had shown, and the realization that his reluctance to harm me had ultimately spared my life.

Aoi entered the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she beheld my awakened state. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. YOU'VE WOKEN UP!" Her exclamation resonated through the room, and I couldn't help but offer her a weak but grateful smile.

"I HAVE TO LET EVERYONE KNOW! OH MY GOD!" Aoi continued to shout, her frantic energy filling the room. My attempts to gather information were futile as she rushed out of the room without addressing any of my questions.

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