Having successfully bought the little penguin vase, Aimi Izumi held it in her hands, growing fonder of it the longer she looked.

It was a lovely vase, but carrying it around for the rest of the day would be inconvenient—and there was no storage area anywhere at Sobu High. On top of that, the little penguin vase was actually quite heavy. Despite its small size, Aimi had originally thought she could use it as a water cup if not for flowers. But once she felt its actual weight, she hesitated. Using it as a water cup would basically turn it into exercise equipment!

She even thought it could double as a self-defense weapon—if someone with bad intentions ever approached her, she could just swing the vase at them. The only drawback was that it would likely only survive one use, so she’d have to make that one strike count.

“Iroha, we already had our tickets checked once. Will we have to queue again when we come back later?” Aimi asked.

“I don’t think so. Look, people who’ve already had their tickets stamped are walking right in without lining up.”

“Perfect! I’ll head home for a bit to drop this vase off, then I’ll come back.” Aimi said decisively—once she made up her mind, she acted immediately.

“Then I’ll wait here for you,” Iroha offered.

“No need. Go enjoy the festival! My house isn’t far from Sobu High, but it’d be boring for you to just stand here alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” Iroha said, sounding worried.

“It’s fine, I’m not a kid who’s scared to go home alone. Alright, see you in a bit!”

Aimi refused Iroha’s offer with a smile. Though she said she was just going home to drop off the vase, in truth, she wanted to sneak into Kotomi’s bedroom and lie on her bed for a while before coming back.

It had already been three hours since she last replenished her Kotomi energy! Unfortunately, since Kotomi was backstage preparing for her performance, Aimi couldn’t recharge directly. She’d just have to make do with Kotomi’s clothes in the wardrobe instead.

With that goal in mind, she declined Iroha’s company and set off alone, hugging the little penguin vase as she left Sobu High.

“Now that I’ve bought a vase, maybe I should actually try keeping flowers in it… But I’m not great at taking care of plants. The last time I grew any was back in second grade…”

As she hugged the vase, Aimi thought it over for a while before deciding to stop by a flower shop on her way home. She remembered there was one along the route.

Soon, she arrived at the shop and stepped inside—only to find that the owner didn’t seem to be there. She remembered that the owner was a kindly old lady who always wore a gentle smile. Every time Aimi passed by, she would see her tenderly tending to her flowers.

The old woman had never married or had children. Some said she’d once experienced a deep, unforgettable love in her youth, but after losing her lover, she could never move on and chose to remain single for the rest of her life.

Whatever the reason, she had always lived alone. People only knew her name—Fujiko—but no one seemed to know her family name. The way she looked at flowers was filled with love, as if each blossom were her child.

“Eh… no one’s here, but the door’s not locked… Fujiko-grandma, are you here?” Aimi called softly.

The shop was utterly silent. Compared to the bustling street outside, it felt like she had stepped into a different world, divided by nothing but the flower shop’s door.

No one answered.

Just as Aimi was about to leave, a voice suddenly spoke behind her.

“Are you here to buy flowers, little girl?”

The voice was ethereal—like the faint, distorted sound that came from an old television stuck on a static-filled channel. It was pleasant, yet unsettlingly out of place, as though it didn’t belong to this era.

A chill ran down Aimi’s spine. Her back stiffened, and cold sweat broke out across her skin. She turned sharply around—and saw a woman standing at the shop entrance, with hair so long it looked unnatural. She wore a wide-brimmed sunhat that tilted downward, concealing much of her face.

Even without seeing her features clearly, the woman’s mere presence radiated a cold, eerie air.

At first glance, the only thought that flashed through Aimi’s mind was—ghost.

But what truly frightened her was that, in such a quiet shop, she hadn’t heard any footsteps when the woman appeared at the door. It was as if she had simply materialized out of thin air.

Aimi forced herself to suppress the fear rising in her chest and let out an awkward laugh as she spoke to the woman with unnaturally long hair.

“Yeah, I just bought a new vase and thought I’d stop by to get some flowers. But it seems like Grandma Fujiko isn’t here.”

“Grandma Fujiko? Haha, so you’ve been to this flower shop before, huh?”

“Mm, I’ve come a few times with my mom. Grandma Fujiko is really nice—anyone who meets her even once will remember her name.”

Talking to this eerie woman made Aimi feel a strange pressure and unease. She didn’t want to buy flowers anymore—she just wanted to go home.

Just as she was about to find an excuse to leave, the woman spoke again.

“Thank you for taking care of my grandmother’s flower shop.”

“Eh?” Aimi blinked, confused. Why was this woman suddenly thanking her?

As if noticing her puzzlement, the woman let out a small chuckle and continued.

“I’m Grandma Fujiko’s great-granddaughter.”

“Grandma Fujiko has a great-granddaughter?!” Aimi asked, surprised.

“Haha, it’s understandable to be shocked. I used to live abroad with my parents. I only came back to Japan two weeks ago. Since I haven’t found a job or a place to stay yet, I’m living with Grandma Fujiko now—and helping her run this shop. Are you wondering why I came back instead of staying overseas?”

Aimi instinctively nodded.

The woman smiled faintly, but her expression was tinged with sorrow.

“My parents passed away last year. It was hard living alone abroad, so I came back to live with Grandma Fujiko.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked something like that.”

“Haha, it’s fine, really. Changing my environment has actually made me feel calmer. I finally understand why Grandma Fujiko loves tending flowers so much. Taking care of them really soothes the heart. So, if you need any help choosing flowers, I can assist you. Ever since I was little, Grandma Fujiko has told me stories and taught me about flowers—I should be able to find one that suits you best.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Aimi said sincerely. Inside, though, she couldn’t help feeling conflicted. Despite the woman’s unsettling appearance, she actually seemed quite gentle and easy to talk to. Truly, one shouldn’t judge by appearances… though Aimi did notice she had a habit of speaking half to herself, half to others. Maybe it was just her way of talking.

“You’re welcome. You want to buy flowers for this vase, right? What a cute vase—you must really like penguins.”

At the mention of penguins, Aimi couldn’t help thinking of Kotomi. She nodded enthusiastically. “I love penguins!”

“That’s wonderful. I, on the other hand, don’t like animals. More precisely, I don’t like living things. I prefer things without life—like vases, knives, or a sheet of paper. They’re cold, silent, thoughtless, and unchanging,” the woman murmured softly.

Though she said it with a smile, her tone carried a quiet eeriness that made Aimi instinctively shrink back.

After that, the woman smiled again and turned to select some flowers for Aimi. As she moved, Aimi couldn’t help but worry her hair might drag on the floor—it really was that long.

“If you’re planning to keep flowers, I think freesia would suit you best,” the woman said slowly, pointing toward a delicate bloom quietly releasing a soft fragrance.

“Freesia?”

“Yes. It’s perfect for you. I like its other name, the ‘fragrant snow orchid.’ It’s a favorite among garden enthusiasts and is often used to make essential oils. You’re a girl—you must have heard of freesia oil before, right?”

“I’ve used a freesia-scented body wash before.”

“Right?~ Freesias are perfect for display in a vase, both for their looks and their fragrance. When I lived abroad, I once met a wealthy man who loved freesias so much that he built an entire garden just to grow them.”

“But I’m not sure if I can keep this bouquet alive. It’d be such a waste to let such beautiful flowers die.”

“That’s alright. A flower’s life has never been its own to control. Before humans began cultivating them, their life and death were dictated by nature. Once people started growing them, their fate naturally came under human hands. If you can raise a flower well, that’s wonderful. But even if it withers, the most you’ll feel is a momentary pang of regret—perhaps a tear or two if you’re sentimental. When it comes to flowers, don’t overthink it. Just do what needs to be done.”

“I… I see…” Aimi hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough money—or that she’d spent it all on the vase earlier. She was simply worried. The last time she tried raising flowers, she hadn’t succeeded, and she feared the same might happen again.

Noticing her hesitation, the long-haired woman chuckled softly.

“You know, the reason I like freesia isn’t just because of its other name, ‘fragrant snow orchid.’ I also really love its flower language.”

“Flower language?” Aimi asked curiously. She only knew a few meanings—mostly the ones attached to flowers that Kotomi Izumi liked.

Kotomi had never mentioned whether she liked freesia. If she had ever said she did, Aimi would’ve already memorized every possible detail about it.

The woman clasped her hands together and smiled.

“Freesia’s flower language represents purity, passion, fragrance, happiness, and freshness. Its other name, fragrant snow orchid, comes from how, when it still grew wild, its blossoms would scatter in the wind and fall onto the snow. The flowers’ scent would mingle with the snow, making it fragrant too. That’s how it earned such a beautiful name.”

As she spoke, the woman smiled faintly, picked up a bouquet of freesias, and handed it to Aimi Izumi.

“To tell you the truth, when I first saw you, the words of the freesia’s flower language immediately came to mind. That’s why I thought this flower would suit you.”

“Freesia suits me?”

“Of course. I wish you happiness, just as the flower’s meaning says.”

Her tone carried an odd, haunting gentleness. Though her expression still felt uncanny, her words seemed sincere.

After a brief moment of thought, Aimi nodded. She had made up her mind.

“Then I’ll take the freesia. Could you help me arrange them in the vase? I don’t really know how.”

“Of course. It’s a simple task.”

The woman carefully took the little penguin vase from Aimi’s arms and began arranging the freesias inside. As she worked, she complimented the vase.

“Such a simple design—just a warm white color—but the little penguin painted on it is so adorable. No wonder you’ve been holding onto it so tightly. You’ve been clutching it since you came in, haven’t even put it down. Your arms must be tired by now.”

“It’s fine,” Aimi replied softly.

“You know, I make vases myself,” the woman continued. “I’ve made several, though I never make ones with patterns. All of mine are smooth and undecorated—just pure color. I believe that if you can blend colors perfectly, if you can create the most beautiful hue, then nothing else is needed. No design, no pattern—just the color itself. That’s enough to make something beautiful.”

“A vase with only color and no pattern… that sounds really nice. Very minimalist. I like that kind of design too.”

Hearing this, the woman’s hands paused briefly, then her smile grew softer—almost normal.

“You like simple vases with only color too? How wonderful. I’m so glad I met you today—it’s been lovely talking with you. It’s a shame I already gave away all the vases I made. Otherwise, I’d have picked the best one and given it to you. That black-and-purple dress you’re wearing suits you so well. Funny enough, I actually made a black-and-purple vase not long ago… but I already gave it away.”

“Whenever I finish making a vase, I don’t think about keeping it for myself—I give it away. I care a lot about how people feel about my creations. How they evaluate them, you know?”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Aimi replied politely. But then, all of a sudden, a thought struck her. She remembered the black-and-purple vase that had fallen from the prize shelf and shattered during the balloon game earlier. The memory made her expression stiffen, her polite smile fading into quiet unease.

Surely… that couldn’t have been her vase, could it?

Aimi quickly dismissed the thought. Black-and-purple vases weren’t exactly rare. Walk into any flower shop and you’d find that color combination on the shelves. The one from the booth was probably just a random donation—maybe one of the students had brought it from home.

Reassuring herself, Aimi took out her wallet and paid for the freesia bouquet.

The woman worked efficiently. Within moments, she had transferred the delicate freesias into the little penguin vase and carefully handed it back to Aimi, not letting go until she was sure Aimi had a secure hold.

“Now that there are flowers inside, the vase must be heavier, right? Would you like me to carry it with you? I can help bring it to your door—free of charge~”

“That’s okay, thank you. And thank you again for recommending the freesia. I left the money on the counter. Goodbye.”

“Take care on your way home.”

The long-haired woman smiled as she watched Aimi leave. When Aimi had finally disappeared from sight, the woman’s smile softened into something else—something strange and serene.

“What a pure-hearted girl… such purity, filled with deep, sincere love for Kotomi Izumi. I had originally planned to make her the first victim… but now that I’ve met her, I’ve changed my mind. She deserves to live happily, just as the freesia’s flower language says.

“After all, killing someone so pure wouldn’t take me to Heaven—it would only make Heaven reject me.

“It seems I’ll need to choose another first victim. I can’t let Mother’s plan fail. If she knew that I’d been rejected by Heaven and couldn’t ascend with her, she’d be devastated. Everything she did—for me, for my sister—was to prepare us to carry her soul with us to Heaven after her death.

“But alas, Mother… my sister was a failure. Even though you once saw her as a divine gift, nothing could change what she truly was. In the end, the only one capable of leading you to Heaven… is the child you never valued. Me.”

As she spoke, the woman’s gentle expression twisted into one of cruelty, her voice trembling with fervent devotion and madness.

Just then, the flower shop door creaked open.

The woman turned, her face lighting up with an almost innocent smile as she looked at the elderly lady who entered—the gray-haired Grandma Fujiko. The earlier contortion of her face melted into a girlish glow.

“Welcome home, Fujiko.”

“Y-you’re back…” Grandma Fujiko’s voice quivered, not with fear but emotion, as she looked at the woman standing in her shop.

“Mm~ I’m back. Compared to the last time we met, your hair’s gotten even whiter, hasn’t it?”

“I’m old now… but you’re the same as ever. Neither your appearance nor your obsession has changed at all.”

The woman stepped forward, gently taking the brown paper bag of beef from Fujiko’s trembling hands.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” she asked sweetly.

Fujiko looked at her for a long moment before speaking softly.

“This time… could you stay? Don’t leave again.”

The woman sighed, a trace of sadness in her smile.

“You just said I haven’t changed—but neither have you. I heard you still never married, even after all these years. You’ve grown into an old lady. I never asked you to wait for me, you know. You could’ve moved on—pretended you’d never known me. You could’ve married, started a family, and lived a normal, happy life.”

“Please… don’t kill anyone again,” Fujiko said, her voice trembling with tears.

“No,” the woman said simply.

…

Aimi returned home, clutching the little penguin vase with the freshly placed freesias inside. She carefully set it down on her desk.

Something still felt missing.

Then she realized what it was.

She took out a framed photo of herself and Kotomi and placed it beside the vase. Once everything was in place, Aimi smiled brightly, her eyes warm and content.

—

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