(POV: Miss Nishimura)
But behind Yuki, Miss Nishimura remained at a distance, quietly following out of worry. Her eyes caught something creepy, and a flood of anxiety swept over her.
Yuki's house was not how she appeared to view it.
Instead, it was dirty and it had ugly graffiti written on it. Profanities covered the outside walls of her home.
Stepping closer and climbing gently over the fence to gain a good glimpse, Miss Nishimura's breath raced.
What she saw in the glass window caused her to pause in shock.
Propped up within the living room window, were two dolls' arms lifted rigidly as if permanently waving—one clothed as a man in a suit with gray hair and glasses, the other as a woman in an apron and long brown hair.
Her heart thumped in her ears.
Did Yuki refer to these dolls as Mom and Dad? She thought.
Yuki entered, yelling again,
"Mom, Dad, I'm home!"
Miss Nishimura ran and knocked on Yuki's front door.
Yuki had taken off her shoes by now, however a knock on the door caught her by surprise.
Eyes wide and wary, Yuki turned.
"Yuki Ayano?" her teacher said. "Please open the door."
Yuki took a deep breath and opened the door carefully, pushing a pleasant grin on her face.
"Miss Nishimura, oh! It's you."
Miss Nishimura smiled nervously, obviously attempting to be casual.
"I happened to be walking by and saw you head inside. I figured it might be a good time to finally meet your parents."
Yuki's grin faded a little as her voice became softer.
"They're resting now. I don't know whether they are free."
Miss Nishimura slowly leaned forward.
"If it's okay... just for a moment. I'd really like to check in."
Yuki felt like she could not object any further.
"Sure, I'll take you to them... Just follow me."
Miss Nishimura gulped, her heart racing with worry.
Once Miss Nishimura went inside the house, all she saw were the peeling wallpaper, the stained walls, the piles of garbage bags crowding the corners. The air was sour and it had a rotting smell that made her eyes sting.
Miss Nishimura lifted a hand to cover her mouth and nose, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Oh God, what is that awful smell... Does she not see all this trash? It's as if Yuki had convinced herself that all of this garbage didn't exist, Miss Nishimura thought.
"Thank you," Miss Nishimura said, her voice tight with worry.
They walked along a dark corridor. Their footsteps barely making a sound. Yuki then gently opened one of the doors to the right-hand side. It was her parents' room.
Yuki's voice was unexpectedly cheerful.
"Mom, Dad, my teacher came to see you. She just wanted to check how you're both doing."
Standing in the doorway, Miss Nishimura felt her heart drop—she could hardly believe what she was seeing.
The air was thick and stuffy, carrying a sharp smell that made her stomach turn. The room was filled with trash and broken glass. She spotted two pale bodies lying still under old, bloody-stained blankets. Medical tubes ran from their arms to a quiet machine.
Their eyes were open, but empty—staring off into nowhere. She thought she saw a twitch in Yuki's father's hand, but it might've just been the flies.
Miss Nishimura, glanced at Yuki Ayano direction and couldn't believe her eyes. She ignored her parents' sick bodies and walked over to the two porcelain dolls sitting by the bedside table. The dolls looked exactly like the ones from the living room window.
With shaking fingers, Yuki stretched out and gently touched them.
Nervously chuckling, she said,
"Huh...Mama, Papa... come on, stop messing around. Miss Nishimura didn't come here to scold me."
How long has she been living like this? Doesn't she see her parents are barely alive—right in front of her?
Miss Nishimura took a step forward, as her heels clicked on the dirty tile.
"Ayano...You don't have to keep pretending," she said.
"I'm not pretending, this is just how things are," Yuki said.
Her fingers curled around the doll's arms.
Miss Nishimura stepped closer, slowly reaching out, as her hand settled on Yuki's shoulder.
"Please... look at them, don't you see how sick your parents are?" Miss Nishimura said.
Yuki shook her head, attempting to avoid looking at her sick parents.
"You don't have to carry this alone," Miss Nishimura said.
"I wasn't going to tell anyone."
"But you did."
Yuki shook her head.
"I didn't mean to."
"You still did and I believe, you wanted someone to see you in this state. So they can help you."
Her shoulders trembled. Slowly, she turned, just enough for her face to come into view. Her eyes were wet.
"I'm a bad daughter, right? Is that it?" Yuki said.
"No. You're just a daughter who's been hurting alone, for a long time."
Something broke inside her, to the point her body wouldn't stop shaking. She turned to Miss Nishimura, grabbing at her sleeve, as she buried her face in her lap.
Wetness poured down her cheeks, like floodgates had burst open. Her nose clogged but she didn't stop, she couldn't stop.
"I just wanted to be perfect," she cried out.