This was how our first meeting should’ve gone. The brief, misguided camaraderie we’d enjoyed had been a wrong turn turned detour that had taken too long to correct. My earlier hesitation was a failure to embrace the darkness required by my role, but now I had finally made things right.
Was I sad? When I began working part-time to support Shizuku, I watched my friends drift away one by one. Here, in this academy, I’d gotten to know Rikka, Nonoka, and Ruki. They were the closest I had to friends, and now here I stood—alienated from all of them. You tell me if I was sad.
But this was a trolley problem, and Shizuku lay on the tracks ahead. It didn’t matter who or how many people were on the other set of tracks. The entire world could be there for all I cared. I would grit my teeth and pull the lever—for this was the future I had chosen.
So, steel yourself, Mio, and brush back your hair. You are the villainess. Guilt may weigh on you, but it is not yours to voice. Throw your shoulders back and smile. Smile, and face your doom with your head held high!
“Heavens, people,” I said, addressing the class at large. “Help this poor girl if you must, all I ask is that you spare me your unctuous sanctimony. We are not the same. Not all of us wish to play the hero.”
I felt the stares on me sharpen with disapproval. Good.
Without another word, I rose from my desk and walked out.
Was I still smiling? I wondered, feeling the cold air kiss my face as I stepped into the corridor.
✦ ✦ ✦
THE trust I’d built up over months, I shattered with a single gesture—as I’d always intended. Unkind whispers and intrusive stares followed me everywhere, but none dared to challenge me openly, fearing this latest move of mine might be another trap. But it wasn’t all bad; I still had Sayaka and Asuka by my side.
Yeah, I was all right—if a little confused.
You see, I couldn’t help but wonder why the original villainess had acted, well, like a villainess. Being so universally despised, as I’d come to realize, was a thankless and exhausting role. While I could motivate myself, again and again, by remembering who I was doing it for, what about her? Did she have someone she was fighting for, or did she truly make enemies of the entire world and die for the sheer thrill of it?
The conclusion I arrived at was that I would never understand what goes on in a true villainess’s mind. The good part was that I didn’t have to. I wasn’t aiming to become a villainess, just to face my demise as one.
Yeah, none of that mattered, just think of Shizuku.
My phone vibrating interrupted my thoughts. It was a call to my Sato number, caller ID: Mom. Immediately, I picked up. “Hello, Mom?”
“Hi, Mio. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, no, you’re fine.”
Something struck me as odd. With the truth of my family situation out in the open, there was no longer a need for me to have my calls with my family in secret. Mom knew this, which made it unlikely she was asking if I was in an appropriate setting to take this call. Then what, was she just asking if I had time to talk? That was a little odd, considering it was pretty late in the evening. If I wasn’t at home, with plenty of time to talk, where would I be?
But then again, Mom rarely ever calls, does she?
“Did something happen?” I immediately asked.
“No, not really,” Mom replied. “I called just because I wanted to hear your voice, see how you were doing.”
“Aw.” My heart melted. “I wanted to hear your voice too, Mom.”
The word “mom,” a name I’d feared I’d never say again, tasted so sweet as it rolled off my tongue. Once again, I found myself so, so glad that that particular term of my adoption had turned out to be nothing but a feint. Almost instinctively, I felt myself wanting to break down, to let down my guard and pour out every worry and hardship I had endured to my mother. But, I managed to hold back the flood.
“I wanted to ask you, though, Mio—are you all right?”
My voice shook. “What?” I had confidence in my ability to maintain a facade. It was a skill I’d honed through months of villainess prep. While it was far from perfect, I didn’t think I’d do something as blatant as let my anxieties show over a few lines on the phone…
Mom just laughed. “I’m your mother, sweetheart. I’d know in a heartbeat if something was off.” She paused. “Just kidding. That Ms. Shizuki told me.”
Welp, I thought we were having a moment there. “Wait, my Ms. Shizuki?”
“Yes! She contacted me, told me in confidence that you were feeling down and that I should give you a call.”
“Wait, Mom?” I almost chuckled in disbelief. “You know ‘in confidence’ means you’re not supposed to tell me, right?”
She laughed knowingly. “Does it now? Well, pretend you didn’t hear that then.” We shared a quiet moment. “But on a serious note, what’s more important to me, her trust or your happiness? If I knew something’ll make you happy, I wouldn’t keep it from you; I’d tell you in a heartbeat, sweetie. I’m sure she knew I’d spill.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” I replied jokingly.
Shizuki struck me as the kind of person who valued loyalty and trust. Though perhaps that only extended to her business relationships? She certainly seemed more than capable of adding a more personal touch when the situation called for it. In that way, she was so considerate it was hard for me to imagine her as a villainess, even hypothetically. She seemed more like a protagonist, like Nonoka, but with a bit more nuance.
“So? What happened?” Mom’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, um…” I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want her to think I was suffering for Shizuku’s sake.
“Something happen at school?” Mom started to guess. “It must be hard adjusting to private school all of a sudden.”
I hummed in thought. “School’s okay, I guess. All my classmates are really nice.”
“Oh, that’s good. People you can get along with then.”
A wry smirk crossed my face. “Yeah, people I can get along with.”
If only I wasn’t the enemy, that is. Before mom could continue down this line of questioning, I changed the subject. “So um, did you know Grandpa was a Sakurazaka?”
“No, of course not. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have been so worried about sending you off to be adopted, would I?”
“Ah, yeah. Right.” My deal with Shizuki stipulated that I cut ties with my family forever. It wasn’t just me who’d been devastated; my parents had been too. Remembering the emotions they’d shown that day, I knew they hadn’t been pretending.
“But you didn’t suspect anything? Not even a little?” I asked.
“I suppose there were a few things during my upbringing that stood out to me, but only in hindsight,” Mom replied.
“Really,” I muttered back.
Then it seemed like Shizuki was the only person who knew. But did she always know? Or was it only after she bumped into me? I had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t tell me even if I asked.