Prologue: Shattered Heart
The sun warmed the small flower bed where a young Mayumi skipped and twirled, her laughter light and carefree. She knelt on the soft grass, her fingers brushing gently over the petals of wildflowers—vivid purples, yellows, and reds bursting with life. Carefully, she gathered the blooms into her woven basket, breathing in their sweet scent.
A smile spread across her face as she picked the brightest flowers she could find.
“Mama will like these,” she whispered.
Her mother had been sick for weeks. Most days she barely left her bed, but whenever Mayumi brought flowers home, she would smile. Even if only for a little while.
Mayumi carefully adjusted the arrangement, making sure the prettiest blossoms sat on top. She imagined her mother’s tired face lighting up at the sight of them.
“Who gave you permission to pick those flowers?”
The sharp voice shattered the peaceful afternoon.
Mayumi turned and saw a group of Bulan children standing nearby. Their expressions were cold, their eyes fixed on her.
She straightened slowly, clutching the basket against her chest.
“No one,” she answered softly. “They’re wildflowers. They grow all around the village. My mother loves them. I thought maybe if she saw them every day, it would help her get better.”
The children exchanged glances.
One boy sneered.
“Why are you touching them?”
Mayumi blinked. “What?”
“My father says people like you bring bad luck.”
Another child folded her arms. “Flowers are supposed to be beautiful.”
The group laughed.
Mayumi lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening around the basket’s handle.
Before she could respond, one of the girls rushed forward and slapped the basket from her hands.
The basket struck the ground and rolled away.
Flowers scattered across the dirt.
“No!” Mayumi cried, dropping to her knees.
She reached for the blooms, but the girl stepped on one.
Crunch.
A yellow flower flattened beneath her boot.
Then another.
Crunch.
Purple petals scattered across the ground.
The other children joined in, trampling the flowers beneath their feet.
“No! Please stop!” Mayumi pleaded, tears filling her eyes. “These were for my sick mother!”
The children only laughed harder as the last of the flowers were crushed into the dirt.
The Bulan children closed in, shoving and jostling her until she stumbled and fell onto the rough earth.
Her basket rolled away. The last surviving flower slipped free and landed beside her.
“Go away!” one boy shouted.
“And take your cursed mother with you!” another added.
Mayumi scrambled backward, her hands scraping against the dirt.
“Leave us alone...” she pleaded.
A taller boy stepped forward, his face twisted with anger.
“My mother says you’re the reason the beasts attacked our village.”
Mayumi froze.
The boy jabbed a finger at her.
“You’re the reason my father died.”
Mayumi’s breath caught in her throat.
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
The children ignored her.
“You’re a plague!”
“A bad omen!”
“Monster!”
“You bring nothing but bad luck!”
Their voices rose together, merging into a cruel chant.
“Bad luck!”
“Bad luck!”
“Bad luck!”
Mayumi curled into herself as another shove sent her to the ground. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Please stop...” she begged.
Nobody listened.
She buried her face in her knees and pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the voices.
But the words still found their way through.
Monster.
Plague.
Bad omen.
The flowers she had picked for her mother lay crushed and forgotten in the dirt.
And for the first time, a terrible thought crept into Mayumi’s heart.
What if they’re right?
