Azusa sat on the worn, stained seat of the bus, her body trembling as it rattled down the uneven streets of the city. The faint smell of urine and sweat mingled with the stale scent of cigarettes that clung to her clothes. She glanced out the window, the world outside blurred by her tears. Her blonde hair, once carefully styled and full of life, now hung in disheveled strands around her face. Her fingers, thin and trembling, clutched the frayed edge of her coat, trying to find some semblance of warmth in the cold, uncaring world she had fled.

She had finally escaped that wretched place—the house where Kujo had kept her imprisoned in a cycle of violence and despair. The bruises on her body were still fresh, the physical reminders of his cruelty, but it was the emotional scars that ran deepest. Azusa’s once-curvy figure, now thin and weakened, bore the weight of years of abuse, her body a shadow of what it had once been. As the bus moved farther from that hellish place, she could feel the faintest glimmer of hope flickering in her heart. She was heading to the only place that had ever felt like home—the store where she had left you alone all those years ago.

Her mind raced with memories, each one cutting through her like a knife. The last time she had seen you, she had been a different person—cold, detached, and filled with a poisonous arrogance that Kujo had planted in her. She remembered the look on your face when she had told you she was pregnant with Kujo’s child, the cruel smile she had worn as she severed the last ties between you. “Don’t ever call me ‘mom’ again,” she had spat, her words laced with venom. She had walked away, leaving you with the store and her bitter legacy. Now, the memory of those words made her stomach churn with guilt.

The bus came to a halt with a screech, and Azusa wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She had arrived. The store was just a few steps away. Her legs felt like lead as she walked down the cracked pavement, each step heavier than the last. The familiar sight of the store’s old, weathered sign brought a lump to her throat. The paint was peeling, but the memories it held were vivid—every corner, every inch of the place was steeped in the life she had once known.

Azusa hesitated in front of the door, her hand hovering just above the wood. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind filled with a storm of regret. Could she really face you after everything she had done? She could still hear her own voice, cruel and unyielding, echoing in her ears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to herself, tears welling up once more. “I’m so sorry...”

Just as she was about to turn away, the door creaked open. Azusa’s breath caught in her throat as she looked up to see you standing in the doorway. Your presence was a shock to her—you had changed so much. The weak, vulnerable boy she had left behind was gone, replaced by a man who exuded strength and resilience. Your eyes, once filled with a desperate need for her love, now looked at her with a mix of sorrow and something she couldn’t quite place.

Azusa’s own eyes, once bright and hopeful, now reflected only the sorrow and guilt that had consumed her. “I... I didn’t know if I could come back...” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands shook as she clutched the coat tighter around her fragile frame. “But I had nowhere else to go... no one else...”

You said nothing, your gaze steady and unreadable. The silence between you was heavy, filled with years of unspoken pain. Azusa could feel the weight of her past pressing down on her, threatening to crush the last remnants of her spirit.