[2] Those Who Are Different

(Mimiko POV – Makoto's House)

'It’s warm…'

The thought drifts through me slowly as the water hugs my skin. My body feels heavy, but not in a bad way. I'm just… tired. So tired.

Nanako floats beside me, her shoulder pressed against mine, our arms barely breaking the surface.

'I forgot what warm feels like.'

For a moment, I think about closing my eyes. About sinking down and letting the water hold me. And I almost do.

“He’s scary…” Nanako says suddenly, her voice small but sharp, like she’s afraid to say it too loud.

“And mean.” I add without thinking.

We both nod.

He looks at us too closely. Talks like he knows us… like he can see through us.

And yet—

“‘He’s not a bad person.’” We say at the same time.

The words surprise me when they leave my mouth.

Nanako blinks, and so do I.

'I don’t know if I believe it yet.' I think. 'But…'

“They don’t look at us like we’re monsters.” Nanako says quietly, staring at the water.

“They don’t look like they hate us.” I echo.

My mouth dips below the surface, and I blow bubbles to keep myself distracted. Something so simple, yet oddly entertaining.

'It’s been so long since anyone didn’t hate us.'

Nanako shifts, leaning against the edge of the tub. Her wet caramel hair sticks to her face and neck, dripping water onto the floor.

“Do you think they think we’re cursed too?” She asks.

I don’t answer right away.

“...Probably.” I say finally. “He told us to pretend we don’t see them.”

Nanako’s fingers curl over the tub’s edge. “But… he didn’t hate us for it.”

I open my mouth, yet no words come out.

Drip.

The sound is quiet, almost gentle. It's water falling back into the bath.

Then my vision blurs.

“Sniff…” My nose burns. “They really… don’t hate us… sniff?”

I don’t know why I’m crying. Or maybe I just don't want to admit it.

Nanako moves closer and wraps her arms around me. Her hug is careful, like she’s afraid I’ll shatter if she holds too tight. I feel her shaking.

“We don’t know that yet.” She says, trying to sound strong.

But her voice wobbles.

We both want it to be true.

And we’re both terrified it isn’t.

Because if we’re wrong… if we trust them and they turn on us too… then we’ll lose the last thing we have.

Each other.

“I don’t know what to do.” I whisper, burying my face in Nanako’s shoulder.

She doesn’t answer.

So I keep going.

“They killed Mom and Dad!” My voice cracks, and suddenly the words spill out like an avalanche. “They said we're monsters! And then everyone hated us! They won’t even look at us normally anymore!”

Nanako squeezes me tighter.

“We’re not monsters.” She says.

She says it like she’s trying to convince herself too.

But even she's starting to sound uncertain.

'What else could we be?'

They called us cursed.

Demonic.

Evil.

Over and over and over.

We do see them, the real monsters. We see them crawl, cling and hurt people.

Mom and Dad saw them too.

'Is it wrong to see them?'

'Is that why this happened?'

I don’t understand.

We didn’t do anything bad.

But no one ever listened.

The room fills with mist as we cry quietly, holding onto each other like we'll disappear if we let go.

And eventually, the water cools.

Eventually, we wash ourselves.

“They’ll give us food, Mimiko.” Nanako says softly, looking at the positive. “Even if they hate us too…”

“We won’t be hungry…” I finish.

That’s all we dare hope for.

We wrap ourselves in the towels they left for us. They're soft, clean, and much too nice. When we open the door, the woman is waiting. She’s holding folded clothes.

“I washed what you were wearing.” She says gently. “But I don’t have anything your size.”

She pauses, then smiles. It's a warm smile. A smile so kind that I want to trust her.

“So I found some of Makoto’s old clothes. I hope that’s okay.”

I wait.

For anger.

For yelling.

For the moment she realizes what we are.

But it never comes.

She just stands there patiently, radiating the same kindness she's shown all this time.

Nanako reaches out first, her hands trembling as she takes the clothes. And we immediately close the door again, pressing our backs against it.

Nanako clutches the fabric to her chest.

“Why don’t they hate us?” She whispers.

I swallow.

“I don’t know.” I answer honestly.

And for the first time in a long while… I’m afraid to hope.

Afraid that the warmth blooming in my chest will be snuffed out and crushed by this cruel reality.

(Makoto POV – Makoto's House)

It’s been two days since I brought the twins home, and they’re still here.

No one really told them they could stay. It just… happened. Mom never asked when they were leaving. She just started treating them like they’d always belonged here.

I’ve noticed something, though.

'They aren’t like me.'

They can see the monsters, but they don’t see the inverted world. No overlapping truths or the warped reflections of people’s hearts. Just the monsters… and everything else as normal.

'Maybe that’s a blessing.' I think.

Despite their initial fear, they’ve slowly begun to open up. And it's all thanks to Mom. She simply refuses to stop caring.

“Come on, eat a little more.” She urges cheerfully, piling more food onto their plates.

The girls stare at the extra portions with fear.

Their bellies are already round, their movements slow and careful, but their plates are still dangerously full.

“Mom.” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “You’re going to make them fat if you keep feeding them like that.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She shoots back immediately. “They need some weight on them to be healthy.”

I groan, and she hums happily and adds even more food.

“Do whatever you want.” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I’m just a kid. It’s not like I can stop you.”

“Exactly.” She beams and ruffles my hair, which is black with red highlights. “You should listen to your mother.”

“Hey—!” I swat at her hands lightly as she laughs, finally pulling away.

Across the table, Nanako and Mimiko are frozen.

They stare at us like they’re watching something unnatural.

Nanako, the twin with shoulder-length light brown hair, and light brown eyes, sits stiffly, her hands folded in her lap. Mimiko, the one with short, dark brown hair framing her face, mirrors her sister, her eyes flicking back and forth between Mom and me.

When my gaze meets theirs, they both look away immediately.

I barely react anymore.

That look… the hesitation and quiet fear… I’ve been seeing it since I was four.

Mom notices instantly.

She crouches slightly so she’s eye-level with the girls, her voice gentle.

“Nanako. Mimiko.”

They both look at her.

“Don’t you think it’s lovely that Makoto and I have the same eye color?” She asks brightly.

“We don’t.” I say flatly.

She ignores me. “It’s at least half true.” She insists, smiling at the girls. “Right?”

Nanako and Mimiko exchange a glance, sharing that silent communication only twins are capable of.

Then they nod.

“Um…” Mimiko starts, then stops abruptly when Nanako elbows her.

“Don’t.” Nanako whispers urgently. “It’s rude.”

Mom chuckles softly. “It’s alright. If you have questions, you can ask. We won’t be upset.”

Mimiko fidgets, her fingers twisting together.

Then, in a barely audible voice—

“Why is your eye… like that?”

I don’t flinch.

“I was born with red eyes.” I say simply. “The other one changed color a few years ago.”

One eye is still red and normal.

The other… isn’t.

Its iris is blue now. An almost supernatural, bright blue. And the pupil, once black, turned white.

The day my curse awakened, my eye changed with it.

That’s usually the part people can’t stand to look at.

Mom, though…

I remember her crouching in front of me that day, eyes wide with fascination, turning my face gently toward the light.

“Oh!” She’d said, delighted. “Now we match.”

And just like that, it stopped mattering.

Most of the people in the village still stare.

They still whisper.

They still look at me like I'm a freak.

But I stopped caring a long time ago, since they don't matter.

Across the table, the twins are staring again, directly at my eyes this time. Not with disgust, but something closer to awe.

There's still a bit of caution toward the unknown, and I don't blame them.

They still recognize me as strange, but are accepting of it.

'I guess it's nice not to be looked at with fear or disgust.' I think, my chest slightly warm as I continue eating my food.

Three months pass quietly.

The days blur together through meals, laughter, and shared chores, until it almost feels like the twins have always been here. Nanako and Mimiko stop doubting us. They stop worrying about whether we truly care, and eventually, even begin smiling, laughing, and playing.

Despite everything that was taken from them…

they begin to look forward, towards a brighter future, believing, rightfully so, that they too deserve happiness.

Mom does too.

She treats them like daughters without ever having said the word, braiding hair, scolding gently, and fussing over their well-being like only a mother could. Somewhere along the way, they stop being guests and become family.

And just like that… I have sisters.

We’re happy.

But the village isn’t.

They don’t understand why we took the twins in. They don’t want to understand.

At first, it was subtle.

People stop by with polite smiles and careful voices, asking when the girls will be “moving on.” Asking if anything strange has happened. Asking if we’re safe.

Mom answers calmly every time.

"The twins are staying."

And that’s when their masks begin to crack.

People stop waving at us in the mornings. Conversations die the moment we approach. Doors close a little faster. Eyes linger on us a little longer… watching cautiously and coldly.

Fear creeps in first.

Then suspicion.

Then hatred.

The whispers come next.

Somehow always managing to reach my ears. It almost felt intentional.

“Those cursed children.”

“She’s gone mad.”

“That boy was strange even before.”

Those are the nicer ones.

I feel it most when I walk alone. The way footsteps slow behind me, the way voices hush, the way the air itself feels heavier.

Mom notices it too. She's always been quite perceptive. She notices the resentment building within me…

“They’re just scared.” She says one evening as we wash dishes together. Her sleeves are rolled up, hands steady in the water. “Fear makes people act unkind, Makoto. That doesn’t mean they’re bad.”

“I don’t understand.” I mutter. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Why can’t they see that?”

She smiles softly and squeezes my shoulder. “Understanding takes time. And sometimes… people don’t want to understand.”

She rinses the last dish, then pauses.

“Rejection doesn’t mean you lack worth.” She says gently. The same warm smile, the same certainty, but her voice carries a hint of melancholy. “It only means the other person has failed to see your value. I don’t hate them for their ignorance. I only pity that they’ll never realize how wonderful you all truly are.”

Then she pinches my cheek playfully, like always.

But I barely notice.

Because that night, I realize two things.

The first is that Mom is kind because she chooses to be. She doesn’t expect kindness in return. She gives it freely, because that's just who she is.

The second…

'I can’t be kind like that.'

Even when I pity them, I can’t forgive them. I can’t excuse what they’re doing, not when they're trying to hurt us.

'At what point does fear stop being fear…

and become malice?'

Because wanting others to suffer… wanting children to suffer… isn’t fear.

In my vision, their shadows grow brighter and more intense. Love|Hate. Acceptance|Rejection. And something else, warped and unsettling.

Injustice|Justice.

They believe they’re right.

They believe their hatred is justified.

And that disgusts me.

So I stop.

I stop killing the monsters around the village.

They cling to people again, and sickness spreads. Buildings crack for no clear reason. Livestock dies.

And somehow… it all circles back to us.

Anger swells. Fear festers. Frustration boils over.

Even the air changes. The energy pervading it begins to thicken, getting heavier… Then, one day…

It thins.

The change so sudden I didn't understand what it meant, until…

People start dying.

Inexplicable deaths. Sudden, violent, unexplained.

The villagers don’t look inward. They don’t question themselves or each other.

They look at us.

Maybe their own curses turned on them.

Maybe something else answered their hatred.

But they don’t care why or how…

Only who.

“You’ve cursed us!” They scream outside our house.

Torches burn, their pitchforks glinting in the gentle glow as rage fills the night.

And as I stare at the crowd. At the fear twisted into cruelty… I realize something terrible.

This was always going to happen.

Whether people died or not.

Whether we are guilty or innocent.

It never mattered, because…

'We are different.'

*********

A/N: Hello Everyone! How are you all?

So, this is the second chapter. Kinda going into trauma level stuff it seems. Important in the seem. But beyond that, some logistics. Everyone on discord (hopefully), has seen pics of how the MC looks. But the chapter image is how he currently looks, and him as an adult is below.

My sources would suggest he looks great🤣, and I'd like to thank Ernestly for providing the image.

As for the chapter itself...

Yeah. I'm setting people up for heartbreak... As expected of me😞. But don't worry, it's not too much this time (at least, that's what I'm hoping for). The twins have become part of the fam, while we see how each character perceives things. Mom is kind, even if she knows everyone is being bad, and she chooses to be so. She isn't naive though.

Makoto realises that he isn't like his mom, and is beginning to have some moral... Questions. A lot of things are starting to seem like suggestions for him. And before everyone who knows JJK starts bashing him for escalating things by not killing the Cursed Spirits, he didn't know that it'd eventually lead to a higher grade spirit.

I mean sure, he didn't want to keep helping those who want to harm him, but the final nail in the coffin was the deaths. And things are beginning to heat up. Personally, I'm kinda excited for the upcoming chaps, but let me know what you all think.

Do you want Makoto to remain good (or try to be), or do you want to see violence and death? Both are very possible, and I've got my own ideas, but it's fun to see what everyone thinks.

But anyway... That's all from me. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a wonderful rest of your day/night 😁