The Young Master and I both became monsters who couldn't see light.

  After I was hacked to death, the wounds on my corpse slowly healed. The Young Master felt I still had breath, so he didn't throw my body out with the doctor's.

  Through my transformation, he began to anticipate his own future.

  Sure enough, before long, his body achieved true recovery—the health he'd dreamed of.

  But as the price, he couldn't appear in sunlight and had to eat people to survive.

  The second night after I woke, I watched the Young Master eat human flesh in front of me.

  His movements were elegant and composed, as if he weren't eating a human hand but a delicious delicacy.

  I couldn't hold it in. I collapsed beside him and dry-heaved.

  After the Young Master finished his meal, he walked over and kicked my calf with his shoe. "Seems you don't need to eat."

  He could've just thrown me into the sun to burn. He kept me to conduct his experiments.

  Eating people posed no psychological barrier for the Young Master, but he couldn't tolerate having to avoid sunlight, only traveling at night.

  This side effect existed because the medicine the doctor made for him wasn't complete—it lacked several ingredients. The most crucial one was called the "Blue Spider Lily."

  I'd never heard of such a thing. The Young Master searched through all the medical texts at home and found no clues.

  But he could try substituting other medicinal ingredients.

  The best test subject was naturally me—someone who feared light just like him.

  From the moment I woke, I no longer had to do any work. I just had to stay in the Young Master's quarters every day.

  The Young Master didn't mistreat me in food, clothing, or shelter. The next day, familiar maids carried in jewels and gorgeous clothes to my room.

  Their whispers made me understand that in everyone's eyes, I'd apparently become the Young Master's concubine.

  While I was confined to the mansion, the Young Master began appearing at social gatherings.

  The only son had finally recovered his health. The head of the household was overjoyed and turned a blind eye to certain abnormalities appearing in the estate.

  The Young Master had survived his twentieth-year death omen. Next, the head of the household's greatest concern was finding him a good wife and smoothly handing over the family business.

  Every deep night, the Young Master returned reeking of blood.

  I silently kept my head down reading, not thinking about who he'd eaten outside. At least—at least he didn't touch the servants in the estate.

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  Following his instructions, I read medical texts in the room. When he was busy socializing, I organized all the medical books the doctor had mentioned so he could consult them when he returned.

  When he read, I had to lie on his lap like a cat, docile, letting him slowly stroke the long hair I'd grown out, passing the long night.

  It seemed I could never leave his side.

  That dream of a little house shattered completely.

  In the estate, I dazedly welcomed my seventeenth birthday.

  On a clear spring day, Ohagi came to see me.

  My range of activity was now limited to this courtyard. I couldn't go out during the day. At night I had to accompany the Young Master, and he didn't like me interacting with others.

  I hadn't seen Ohagi in so, so long.

  Sometimes Okoto said Ohagi missed me very much, asking how I was doing, whether I had any words for her to pass along.

  I'd remember the doctor's gruesome death and shake my head glumly.

  During the day, the Young Master went out as usual. He had a specially made ox-cart and large umbrella, enough to shield him from sunlight.

  Ohagi slipped in while he was out. All the servants in the quarters pretended not to see.

  I huddled in the room's corner in a daze when I heard someone softly call, "Chihaya, Chihaya."

  Was I hallucinating? Why was I hearing Ohagi's voice?

  I stared fixedly at the doorway, watching it crack open. Sunlight from outside squeezed lightly in.

  And squeezed in one Ohagi.

  Just like when I'd made mistakes before, she looked up glaring at me, her tone harsh: "Got the Young Master's favor and don't recognize me anymore?"

  I shrank my neck, pouting aggrievedly. "Ohagi..."

  Why had she suddenly come? I had so, so much to tell her, but I couldn't say anything.

  Ohagi carried a bundle. She struggled to squeeze in, set it on the table, then turned to look me over.

  "They all say the Young Master dotes on you tremendously," Ohagi said. "But seeing me, why aren't you smiling anymore?"

  I felt dazed for a moment, remembering those early days at the estate when I'd always huddle beside her like a sparrow, chattering with endless questions:

  Ohagi, what's this? Ohagi, what's that? Ohagi, was that the head of the household who just walked by? Ohagi, why doesn't the Young Master ever come out for walks?

  Ohagi found me too noisy. Sometimes she had no choice but to stuff red bean dumplings she'd gotten from the kitchen into my mouth. The sweet taste silenced me, finally earning her a moment's peace.

  "I had the kitchen make peach branch mochi." Ohagi pointed at the opened food box, then rolled her eyes at me twice. "Cost me a fortune. Hurry up and eat it!"

  Only then did I belatedly, dully ask, "Why bring me this?"

  Ohagi sighed and patted my head. "Your birthday. You forgot that too?"

  I was born on the third day of the third month—a day when spring warmth bloomed, when cherry blossoms were at their most beautiful.

  But my life held no beauty, just like cherry blossoms' brief flowering period—they'd wilt quickly.

  Before, for my birthday, Ohagi would at most secretly swap in two boiled eggs, counting as extra nutrition.

  I'd once said enviously that the sweets the head of the household and his family ate looked so nice—both beautiful and delicious. How wonderful it would be to taste them.

  Ohagi said, "Wait for your next life then."

  Eating the peach branch mochi, I suddenly laughed. Right—having died and come back to life, wasn't this my next life already?

  After I finished eating, Ohagi pulled out two dried persimmons, split them one each, and chatted with me about recent news.

  I had nothing to share. I could only listen quietly.

  When the persimmons were finished, she clapped her hands. Time to go back.

  That day, I slept for the first time in ages.

  Didn't need comfortable bedding. Just collapsed by that table and slept sweetly.

  When the Young Master returned at night, he seemed not to shake me awake to accompany his reading.

  In deep sleep, I vaguely felt someone gently pinching my earlobe. That hand touched my hair, as if arranging something on my head.

  That person seemed to stay there, sitting beside me. I didn't care. I just wanted to sleep peacefully.

  After a long while, that person's breathing suddenly drew extremely close, falling evenly on my cheek.

  Just for an instant. Then all movement disappeared.

  I slept soundly until dawn.

  After daybreak, the Young Master's door remained tightly shut. He was probably catching up on sleep.

  He didn't call me over, so I stayed in my own room, rubbing my eyes, preparing to bathe and change clothes.

  Stretching lazily, I noticed something on my head seemed to be swaying. I couldn't help reaching up to touch my hair.

  I took it down and looked.

  It was a peach blossom hairpin.