CHAPTER III
~Lipstick and Scars~
At precisely 5:49 PM, Yuzuki slipped her key into the lock and pushed open the heavy door to her apartment—a space far grander than most, with high ceilings, polished floors, and sunlight spilling through wide windows. The echo of her entrance was quickly drowned out by the hurried footsteps of her two maids, darting from room to room, arms laden with clothes, travel cases, and accessories.
Yuzuki set her bag down in the foyer, her gaze following the flurry of activity. The apartment, usually serene, was alive with the energy of last-minute preparations. She caught sight of Hana, one of the maids, scurrying up the grand staircase and quietly trailed after her.
At the top of the stairs, Yuzuki paused at the open door of her mother’s dressing room. The space was awash in soft lamplight, the air scented faintly of expensive perfume. Her mother, Ayame Mikazuki, stood before a gilded mirror, expertly applying mascara, her reflection poised and elegant in a tailored suit.
“Mom?” Yuzuki’s voice was tentative.
Ayame turned, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her daughter. “Oh! Yuyu~” she exclaimed, setting down her mascara and gliding across the room to gather clothes from the bed and place them into an open suitcase.
Yuzuki, still uncertain, leaned toward Hana as she passed. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
Hana hesitated, caught off guard. “Ahh—” she stammered, but before she could answer, Ayame’s cheerful voice filled the room.
“Hmmm?” Ayame called, rising to her feet and moving to Yuzuki, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and cupping her face. “Yuyu~ How was your day at school?”
“G-good,” Yuzuki replied, her voice small as she looked up at her mother—so strikingly similar, with moonlight-white hair and vivid blue eyes. The resemblance was uncanny; all the Mikazuki daughters shared the same ethereal beauty.
Ayame returned to her dressing table, gathering her cosmetics. “Why do you look so surprised? Didn’t you know I’m leaving today?”
“Where to?” Yuzuki asked, confusion flickering across her face.
“Tokyo! Didn’t the maids inform you?” Ayame replied, breezily.
Hana, still packing, bowed low. “Oh. Apologies, My lady. I forgot to inform you.”
Yuzuki’s tone turned cold. “Oh, and you can forget too, Hana? Wow. I had no idea. That says a lot.”
Hana maintained her bow, her apology more performative than sincere.
Ayame, unfazed, returned to Yuzuki, gently lifting her chin and applying a fresh swipe of luxurious lipstick to her daughter’s lips. She pressed her cheek to Yuzuki’s, turning both their faces to the mirror. For a moment, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.
“Aweee! Look at that. It looks lovely on you, my baby!” Ayame giggled, her delight genuine.
Yuzuki eased out of the embrace, her expression troubled. “When’ll you be back?”
Ayame tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe a week or so?”
“A WEEK OR SO?” Yuzuki’s voice rose in disbelief. “What am I even—”
“Awee, don’t be so upset. I’ll be back as soon as possible. You know how long business dealings can take, right? But I’ll do my best to be back within a week,” Ayame reassured her.
Yuzuki’s unhappiness was plain, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Mikazuki Ayame was a renowned and rich businesswoman in Takayama, Gifu Prefecture, celebrated for her strategic acumen and innovative design sense. Her cosmetics company was a market leader, and the lipstick she’d just tried on Yuzuki was the latest hot product, soon to be the centerpiece of negotiations in Tokyo.
Yuzuki’s older sisters, Kazuki and Suzuki, were both abroad—one pursuing a doctorate in the United States, the other following in their mother’s business footsteps in Australia. With Ayame’s departure (and her personal maid in tow), Yuzuki would be left in the care of Hana, the second maid, in the vast, echoing apartment.
The evening air in the apartment was thick with the scent of perfume, the rustle of silk, and the quiet tension of another impending absence.
Yuzuki followed her mother and Hana down the grand staircase, the polished steps echoing softly beneath their feet. The entrance hall was filled with the muted clatter of luggage wheels and the faint, lingering scent of Ayame’s signature perfume. Outside, the evening air was cool, the sky deepening into indigo as the city lights flickered to life.
At the curb, Hana loaded the last suitcase into the waiting black sedan. Ayame turned to Yuzuki, her expression gentle but resolute, the poised mask of a businesswoman softened by maternal warmth.
“Yuyu, don’t worry about me,” Ayame said quietly, smoothing a stray lock of Yuzuki’s hair. “I know you’re strong, but please, eat your meals on time. I might not be able to answer every call, but make sure to message me if you need anything. And if it’s urgent, call your sisters—they’ll always pick up, even with the time difference.”
Yuzuki nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Yes, Mom. I know.”
Ayame smiled, cupping her daughter’s face one last time. “I’ve also let Mrs. Watanabe next door know I’ll be away. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask her. She’s more than happy to help, and you know she loves your company.”
Yuzuki managed a small smile, comforted by the familiar routine of these instructions. “I’ll be fine. Just… come home soon.”
Ayame leaned in, pressing a final kiss to Yuzuki’s forehead. “I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”
With a last lingering look, Ayame slid into the car, the other maid taking her place beside the driver. The sedan pulled away from the curb, taillights glowing red as it disappeared down the quiet street.
Yuzuki stood in the doorway with Hana, watching until the car was out of sight, the vast apartment behind her suddenly feeling even larger and more silent. The night settled in, wrapping her in a hush broken only by the distant hum of the city and the echo of her mother’s parting words.
The quiet click of the gate closing behind them seemed to signal a shift in the atmosphere—one of absence, of space too wide for just two. Yuzuki lingered a moment longer on the threshold, the city’s distant hum drifting up from the street, before Hana’s gentle prompt broke the silence.
“Let’s go back, My lady,” Hana said, her tone formal but softened by routine familiarity. She turned, her footsteps measured as she led the way to the elevator.
Yuzuki followed, her own steps echoing in the marble-floored lobby. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and together they ascended to the fourth floor—a private world within the seven-story building, where each room was spacious, elegantly furnished, and now strangely empty.
Despite the Mikazuki family’s considerable wealth, they had chosen this apartment in Takayama over a sprawling Tokyo mansion. The decision was practical, rooted in the realities of their lives: with Ayame’s frequent travels and only Yuzuki and the two maids at home, a mansion would have been a hollow echo of luxury, amplifying loneliness rather than comfort. Living outside Tokyo also meant more time with her mother—at least, when Ayame was not away for business.
As the elevator doors opened onto the quiet hallway, Yuzuki felt the familiar weight of solitude settle over her. The apartment, for all its grandeur, was just walls and windows without the presence of family. She stepped out, Hana at her side, the hush of the evening deepening as they made their way back inside, each step a reminder of the space left behind.
At 8:00 PM, the quiet of Yuzuki’s room was broken by the bright, familiar jingle of a LINE video call. She glanced at her phone screen, where “Mikazuki Suzuki” flashed in bold green letters, and slid her thumb across to answer.
A burst of energy came through the speaker.
“YUYUUUUUUUU! Long time no see, sis! Where’ve ya been, mate?” Suzuki’s voice was laced with that unmistakable Aussie twang, playful and loud.
“In hell,” Yuzuki replied, flopping back onto her bed, hoodie sleeves swallowing her hands. “And you?”
“Where else would your darling Mikazuki Suzuki be but here, waiting for her beloved Mikazuki Yuzuki to call?” Suzuki shot back, grinning into the camera.
“Cut the crap.” Yuzuki rolled her eyes, tucking her knees up and settling in.
Just then, another notification popped up—“Mikazuki Kazuki has joined the call.” Their eldest sister’s face appeared, calm and serious.
“Yuzuki. Did you eat dinner yet?” Kazuki’s tone was all business. “I heard from Mother that she left for Tokyo. Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean you get to skip meals. I’ll fire Hana if you don’t eat three times a day and snack at least twice. You need to gain weight. A soon-to-be high school sophomore can’t be running around at less than 30 kilos.”
“I’m more than 40 kilos!” Yuzuki yelled, indignant.
“BALABALABALALABLAAA!” Suzuki sang, waving her hands. “Kazuki, keep your doctory to yourself, nobody asked for advice. So, Yuyu, if Hana’s cooking is crap, just head to the nearest conbini and grab something decent.”
“Yeah, do that at the very least. And no skipping lunch at school,” Kazuki added, her voice softening just a little.
“Yes, yes, whatever,” Yuzuki grumbled. “Anyway. LISTEN. I have something to tell you.”
“You robbed Mrs. Watanabe in her sleep? DAMNNN! I’ve always wanted to do that!” Suzuki cackled.
“SHUT UP! I didn’t do anything!” Yuzuki snapped, her cheeks flushing. “Just listen.”
Kazuki’s voice was gentle but insistent. “What did you do then?”
Yuzuki took a shaky breath, then launched into the story, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Today was a nightmare. First, some idiot posted photos of Shiranui-senpai on my account—without my knowledge, obviously. Suddenly, I’m the talk of the school, accused of flirting with the student council president. Then, during class, Ayaka—the blue-haired girl, you know, the one who acts like she’s descended from royalty—accused me of stealing her notebook. I didn’t even know she existed until she magically appeared out of nowhere, just in time to point fingers. The whole class, the teachers, even Haruki Shiranui himself, ganged up on me. They searched my bag and—surprise!—her notebook was there. Planted, obviously. I was humiliated in front of everyone. And as if that wasn’t enough, Kaito—my so-called friend—stood by and let it happen. Then he chased me down after school, confessed his love in front of everyone, and I had to reject him. Now, apparently, I’m the villain and the heartbreaker. The whole school’s probably talking about it already.”
Suzuki’s face was a mix of shock and outrage, her mouth dropping open. “You’re kidding! They actually searched your bag in front of everyone? That’s bloody mental, Yuyu! I swear, if I was there, I’d have flipped a desk or two. And Kaito—what a muppet! Who needs friends like that?”
Kazuki’s brows knitted in concern, her tone stern but protective. “That’s completely unacceptable. The teachers should never have allowed something like that. And that Shiranui boy—using his position to intimidate you? I’m making a note to speak to Mother about this. If this escalates, we’ll get the school board involved.”
Suzuki leaned closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Honestly, next thing you know, they’ll be blaming you for crushing someone’s luck. ‘Oh, the blue-haired whale tripped over her own ego? Must’ve been Yuzuki!’”
Kazuki sighed, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t joke, Suzuki. But seriously, Yuzuki, you need to keep your guard up. Are you sure you’re okay? And what about Tachibana Reina? Didn’t she always have your back?”
Yuzuki’s expression softened for the first time all evening. “Reina’s still in Osaka—her grandmother’s been sick, so she’s been helping out with the family. But she messaged me earlier; she’s coming back tomorrow. Thank god. I need her more than ever right now.”
Suzuki grinned, relief clear in her eyes. “There you go! With Reina back, those idiots won’t stand a chance. She’ll sort them out, no worries.”
Kazuki nodded. “Good. Just hang in there until she’s back. And if anything else happens, you call us, alright? I’ll have the school management pay for the joke.”
“Now I wouldn’t be surprised if they framed you for murder next,” Suzuki joked, her tone half-serious.
“Me neither,” Yuzuki muttered.
Kazuki was silent for a moment, her brows drawn together in concern. “Nontheless, I’ll talk to Mother when she gets back. I’ll have you out of that school ASAP.”
“Nah, there’s no need,” Yuzuki replied, softer now. “Where else would we find such an elite private integrated school? Maybe we could, but…” She trailed off, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down. “Yeah whatever, I have no words.”
The sisters’ voices overlapped in a blend of concern, affection, and fierce loyalty—reminding Yuzuki that, even on her worst days, she was never truly alone. The call hung in a comfortable silence, the distance between them bridged for a moment by shared frustration, sisterly teasing, and the unspoken promise that, no matter what, they were in this together.
To be Continued…
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