The office smelled of smoke and stale beer. Papers scattered across the desk, the curtains half-drawn against the fading sun. Akuma sat slouched in his chair, his tie loosened, his face shadowed. His hands trembled faintly as he reached for the glass, half-full of liquor, when a voice—mocking, young, and sharp as broken glass—cut through the silence.
"Done going to church?"
Akuma's head jerked up. Sitting on the desk, swinging his legs like it was a playground, was a boy no older than ten. His smile stretched too wide, his voice dripping with venom.
"Done pretending you were listening to the sermons, huh?"
"Shut up," Akuma growled, his voice already breaking.
The boy tilted his head, grin widening. "How's your ugly-ass daughter?"
Akuma's fist clenched around the glass. "Shut your mouth."
The boy's laugh filled the room—bright, childish, yet cruel. "Ugly, ugly, ugly! How ironic, isn't it? She got her mother's face… but your nature, big brother. Evil stitched into her skin. Hahaha! What an unfortunate child!"
Something inside Akuma snapped. With a roar, he hurled the glass straight at the boy's smirking face. It passed through him—always through him—and slammed into the wooden chair behind the desk. The force made it bounce up, crash against the edge of the table, then explode into shards on the floor.
The sound echoed in the room, sharp and final.
Akuma stared at the broken pieces, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples. His lips quivered as the boy leaned close, whispering at his ear.
"My niece really looks like a devil, doesn't she? No wonder she hides that face behind a mask. Who could ever look at her without flinching? Tell me, do you even look at her? Or do you just see the monster you created?"
"Go away…" Akuma whispered, voice hoarse. His shoulders shook. "Go away, Shiro!"
But the boy only pinched his cheek with icy fingers that weren't really there, laughing softly. "I won't leave. Why would I? You killed me, remember? Your hands. Your choice. You didn't just kill your little brother—you poisoned your wife too. After she gave birth, after she gave everything, you filled her veins with death. All for what? To prove you could take the devil's throne in hell? Hahaha, idiot."
Akuma's hands dug into his scalp, clutching his hair. "No… no… I didn't—" His voice cracked, twisting into a scream. "I had to! I had to! You don't understand—nobody understands! She was weak, she was—she was nothing but a reminder of the chains I carried! And you—" He pointed at Shiro with trembling fingers, spittle flying. "You were never supposed to be born! You ruined everything! You took what was mine, the love that should've been mine, the light that was never for me—"
His knees buckled, and he stumbled back into the chair, face twisted, veins straining at his temples.
"They call her ugly," he hissed, voice dropping into a ragged whisper. "My Angelyn. My daughter. The world laughs at her mask, at the hideous face beneath it. Do you know what it's like? To look at your own blood and see nothing but disgust? To see the monster in the mirror staring back at you? She hides because she knows. She knows she shouldn't exist. She's cursed, Shiro. She's cursed!"
Shiro's voice giggled around him, bouncing off the walls, crawling under his skin. "No, no, brother. That's you. The curse is you. The monster is you."
Akuma clutched the armrests, his knuckles white. "I only wanted silence," he whispered, voice breaking into sobs. "I only wanted to be free. To live without shadows. Without your laughter. Without her eyes. Without the reminders. But no matter how much I drink, no matter how much I pray, you're still here! You won't leave me alone!"
His breath hitched as he collapsed forward, pressing his forehead to the desk, tears spilling freely. His voice cracked into a thousand fragments, raw and unrestrained.
"I was a child too… I was only a child! They picked me up like I was nothing, and then you came—their miracle son. Their real blood. And me? A shadow. A mistake they dressed in their love until you arrived. I was never enough. Never chosen. Never wanted! I killed you because—because—" He slammed his fists against the wood until they stung. "Because I wanted to be seen! Just once. Just once!"
His body shook violently, his sobs twisting into bitter laughter. "And what did it bring me? A wife who hated me. A daughter too ugly to be loved. A face that mocks me every time she dares to look my way. Hahaha—what kind of father thinks this way? What kind of man…" His voice broke. "…what kind of monster have I become?"
The boy's laughter lingered, faint and echoing, as Akuma reached blindly for another bottle. He twisted the cap with shaking fingers, drank deep, and motioned with a weak hand for the maid outside the door.
"Clean it," he rasped, gesturing at the shattered glass. His voice was empty, hollow.
But as the door clicked shut behind the maid, Akuma's eyes swelled with new tears, and he whispered into the empty room, voice shaking, voice breaking:
"Angelyn… Angelyn… what did I make of you? Why were you born so ugly? Why do you wear that mask? Do you hate me that much? Do you know I poisoned your mother? Do you know you should have never opened your eyes in this cursed world? I tried—God knows I tried—to see something in you worth holding onto. But all I see is her dead face, and my sins staring back. You were supposed to be my redemption… but you became my punishment."
His hands clawed at the desk, knuckles bleeding against the wood. "I wanted to love you, my daughter, I wanted to—but every time you smile, it's crooked. Every time you speak, it's her voice. Every time you breathe, it's another nail in my coffin. I hate you, I hate myself for hating you… why won't you just disappear?! Why won't you take this curse with you?!"
The silence after his scream was unbearable. His chest rose and fell violently, until at last he crumbled into his seat, covering his face with his hands, weeping into the darkness.
And as the shadows deepened, Shiro's small voice echoed once more—laughing, mocking, singing like a cruel lullaby:
"Ugly child… ugly father… ugly soul."
CHAPTER END 🫠