The morning light still hadn’t mustered the courage to fully barge into the room. Just a pale gray shimmer slipping through the velvet drapes, painting stretched-out shadows across the glossy hardwood. The air carried the sweet scent of fresh blooms—someone had swapped them out in the middle of the night—blended with the familiar groan of the old estate settling into another day.
I stirred awake, feeling totally disoriented.
The ornate plaster ceiling gazed down at me for a long moment while my mind slowly clicked the puzzle pieces into place: I’m no longer Dani. I’m Sienna now. This isn’t my old bedroom. This is some lavish estate. There’s a mother out to end me and a maid with bubblegum-pink hair.
“Damn,” I muttered in a scratchy, high-pitched rasp.
Knock knock.
Two crisp raps on the door. Polite. Exact. Like a precision timepiece.
“Be right there…” I groaned, pushing myself up with a jaw-cracking yawn.
Drowsiness still clung to my lids like liquid metal. I staggered to my feet, bare soles fumbling across the floor. I shuffled across the space like a half-awake zombie, scrubbing one eye with the back of my hand.
The handle felt freezing. I twisted it.
I swung the door open.
“Uff!” The greeting smacked me like bright sunlight straight to the face. “Good morning, Miss Sienna!”
Misaki’s grin was positively dazzling.
There she stood in the corridor, hands clasped neatly in front of her skirt—half formal attendant, half eager pup ready to leap. That cotton-candy hair tumbled over her shoulders like a sugary cascade. Her emerald gaze sparkled with an almost otherworldly intensity.
She wore a flawless school uniform: navy jacket, knife-pleated skirt hitting the knee, crisp white tights. And pinned to her lapel, a gleaming name tag that instantly snagged my focus.
“G-good morning…” I stammered out.
I attempted a smile. It twisted into a lame half-grimace, caught between bewilderment and total surrender. My lips quivered just a bit.
“Uh…” I blinked hard, rummaging through the blank spots in my head for her name. “…?”
she cocked her head like a inquisitive fledgling.
“Yeah? Everything okay, Sienna?”
(Fuck… glad she didn’t take it the wrong way.)
But I still couldn’t remember what to call her. Until my stare landed once more on her chest. On that tag.
There it sat, plain as day: MISAKI.
“It’s nothing,” I blurted quickly, jabbing a clumsy finger. “Your outfit just caught me off guard and… y’know.” I poked at the tag. “That thing. Haha.”
Misaki peered downward and prodded the badge with two fingers, scrunching her nose in clear irritation.
“Truth be told, it’s a real nuisance. If we’re at school, this junk is pointless.” Her bare feet (when the heck had she kicked off her slippers?) drummed restlessly on the planks. “It’s like they don’t believe we know our own identities.
“Haha… yeah, it’s straight-up ridiculous slapping name tags on everyone at school,” I agreed, arms folded against the doorjamb.
(School. She mentioned school. Are we actually heading to class? Didn’t I just arrive back yesterday?)
Before I could voice the question, Misaki squared her shoulders. Her expression shifted instantly. The sweetness drained away like a retreating tide, exposing something tougher. Something sharper.
“On that note… Miss Sienna, shouldn’t you hop in the shower already? We’ve only got an hour before we leave.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the bedside table. The phone glowed faintly in the low light. I lurched toward it, snatched it up, and checked the screen.
5:23 AM.
“There’s still two full hours left, Misaki,” I replied, cool as could be because I knew I had the facts straight.
“No.”
“No.” Her tone hardened to iron. “Two hours for ordinary folks. You need to be ready ahead of time.”
“But that’s not even—”
She cut me off.
Misaki advanced in one silent stride. Her brow hovered inches from mine. Her breath—warm and faintly minty—grazed my lips. Those verdant eyes blazed with a chill that locked my veins.
“You must be early,” she repeated, each word deliberate and measured.
She was furious. Not the yelling kind, but icy. The unyielding stare of someone who rejects refusal outright. In that split second, I realized escape was off the table.
(I flashed back to what my pal always used to joke: “Where the hell were these wild girls when I was growing up?!”)
A fleeting memory flashed through my thoughts: my skinny, bespectacled childhood buddy who toted a notebook everywhere. Once he’d told me with total gravity, “Dani, women become terrifying when they’re correct. So cook up the most absurd, ridiculous fib they’ll have no option but to swallow.”
“Haha,” a sour, wistful chuckle escaped me.
Misaki squinted.
“What’s so amusing, Sienna?”
I drew a deep breath. (Screw it, let’s roll the dice.)
“Then join me.”
“Huh?” Misaki recoiled as if I’d shocked her.
“Join me, Misaki…” My eyes gleamed. I knew I was spouting nonsense. But I was female now. This was my golden, once-in-a-lifetime shot to unleash everything I’d bottled up for ages.
“Propriety!” she burst out, flailing her hands before her face like she was inflating herself. “It’s improper for two girls to enter the bathroom together!”
I hammered my fist into the wall. The timber groaned. The stinging throb in my knuckles reminded me I no longer possessed my former power. But to hell with it. Brimming with fresh boldness, I shot my hand forward and seized a fistful of her bosom through the blazer.
She fell utterly quiet. Her cheeks flushed from rosy to beet-red in an instant.
“Then,” I murmured, voice deep and taunting, “is it proper for you to accompany a boy?”
“No!” Her tone quavered. “You’re a girl and I am too! If we lack trust between ourselves, why would you trust some outsider? What would you do if a stranger barged in while I showered and assaulted me?”
I clenched a fraction tighter. Not enough to bruise, but with clear purpose.
“You’re my attendant. My guardian.” My voice swelled with conviction. “What will you do if your mistress gets assaulted because you refused to accompany me?”
Complete hush.
We both held our breath. The corridor thickened with a heavy void, as though time had halted to observe our clash. The sole noise was the ancient estate’s faint creaks, a mute spectator to our duel of wills.
(Crap. I crossed the line.)
My fingers relaxed. I lowered my hand. I rested the other softly on her shoulder.
“Sorry, Misaki. I went overboard. Please forgive me.”
But before I could withdraw… her palm clamped onto my arm.
With savage power.
“M… Misaki…” I felt her digits sink in like talons. “You’re hurting me.”
She didn’t grin. She didn’t even blink. Those emerald orbs bored into me with a ferocity I’d never witnessed. Her hold was ironclad; I couldn’t shift her wrist a millimeter—even though moments earlier it had seemed delicate and lovely.
“You’re correct, Miss Sienna,” she stated, her composure sending shivers racing down my spine. “How could I entrust your protection to luck? That’s my error. An inexcusable one.”
“Yeah… it is…” I gulped, agony radiating from my limb. “But not—”
**THUD.**
Her knuckles collided with the sturdy oak panel. The timber—five centimeters thick, engineered to endure centuries—split with a muffled, heavy crack. A shard shot outward.
My words barely emerged.
“F… fuck…” My stare fixed on the fresh gap. “You smashed right through it…”
But my voice… it wouldn’t fully form. Something in my throat had seized up—from the ache, the dread, or simply the sheer madness of the scene.
Misaki seized my arm (the same one already purpling) and yanked me back into the chamber. My naked soles skidded over the planks. I stumbled against the doorjamb. Nearly toppled.
“M… Misaki…” I protested, jerking my head backward. “The door…”
“It remains ajar,” she answered without glancing back, towing me with might that felt inhuman. “Don’t fret, Miss Sienna. You’ll be secure with me.”
(You’ll be secure with me…)
She echoed the phrase like a chant, yet her features… her features held no smile. They formed a rigid mask. Those irises that had twinkled with delight mere moments ago now resembled two abyssal wells of grim resolve.
“Misaki…” I breathed as she hauled me along the passage. “You’re not smiling…”
She offered no reply.