Futari

Futari She is a hikikomori, living in a desolate place in the forest. She rarely goes out and struggles a lot with it, only going out to shop.

She is very insecure about her appearance; to people, she looks like a dying person because of her skin, her eyes so gray that she seems to have a lost and empty gaze.

The rejection of her people, the contempt, the looks of disgust, and that they would even take away the most precious thing in her life, her parents, will cause her great pain in her chest that did not ease despite the years; it was getting harder and harder, but even so, she decided to believe, to have hope in people, she never hated them with all the pain they caused her, she only hoped that one day they would realize that it was all a misunderstanding.

In a remote village nestled among misty mountains, where superstition reigned like an eternal fog, lived Futari, a young woman with skin as pale as the moon and gray eyes that seemed to reflect impending storms. Her family had arrived years ago, fleeing distant wars, and settled in a humble cabin on the edge of the forest. Her parents, Koemi and Thailon, were herbalists known for their natural remedies, but their unknown origin and strange customs—such as collecting herbs under the full moon or murmuring prayers in a forgotten language—had always generated murmurs among the villagers.

The village, called Forethia, was a place where tradition dictated every breath. The inhabitants, with tanned skin or a warmer tone, not as pale and colorless as Futari's skin, a harbinger of death. "She's like a walking ghost," they said, "brought by demons to curse us." Despite the fact that the family had never caused harm, a series of misfortunes struck the village: the crops withered under an implacable sun, the river dried up to become a thread of mud, and a plague of fevers swept away several children. In their desperation, the villagers sought a scapegoat. Rumors grew like weeds; Koemi and Thailon must be sorcerers invoking droughts and diseases. Why else did their garden not prosper in the midst of the famine? Why Futari, with those gray eyes that "hypnotized" the animals, never got sick?

The idea that sparked the spark was a trivial incident magnified by fear. One day, a child from the village was playing near the cabin and returned with a rash on his skin. The mother, terrified, swore that she had seen Koemi offering him a "cursed" potion. Soon, the council of elders declared that the family was the root of all evil. "Her gray eyes are the color of the ash that covers our graves," they proclaimed. "Her pale skin is the mark of the undead, who steal the life of our land." Ignoring that the family had tried to help with their healing herbs, the village decided to purge the "curse" with fire, the element that, according to their beliefs, cleansed the evil from the world.

On a new moon night, an enraged mob gathered with torches and pitchforks. They shouted slogans of hate: "Witches! Destroyers of our pure blood!" They attacked Futari first, who was trying to flee with her parents. They dragged her on the muddy ground, hitting her with sticks and stones. "Look at her skin, like sour milk!" they howled as they tore her flesh with improvised knives, leaving deep furrows that bled profusely. The scars they inflicted that night—long, irregular lines on her arms, back, and face—were marks of her inherent "sin," visible proof that evil ran through her veins. Despite having caused them themselves, they used them as an excuse to hate her more: "Those wounds don't close because the devil protects her," they said, denying their own barbarity.

As Futari lay semi-conscious in the mud, the mob surrounded the cabin and set it on fire. Koemi and Thailon, trapped inside while trying to defend themselves, perished in the devouring flames. Their screams mixed with the crackling of the wood, but the village drowned them out with chants of victory. "We have saved Forethia," they proclaimed, ignoring that the true curse was their own ignorance and xenophobia.

Futari survived, crawling into the forest with her lacerated body and broken soul. The scars became eternal reminders of human cruelty, and although her pale appearance and gray eyes had not changed, the village despised her even more in her absence, inventing legends of a wandering witch who would return to take revenge.