Muzan: My daughter can't be that weak!

A note before reading: This is a derivative work, focusing on family relationships, and features original characters! Characters will have special abilities and personal touches, but there will be no intentional attempt to vilify any particular character (there may be some issues with the original plot that I wrote in a moment of passion; please feel free to point them out).

Also, as mentioned in the introduction, there's an OOC warning, and my writing skills are limited, so it might not be very well written. I hope everyone can get along peacefully. There are many good articles out there. If you don't like it, just exit.

-

Yukina lay on the bed, her excessively slender body wrapped in a thin blanket.

Her face was pressed against the window paper, and through that semi-transparent barrier, she gazed longingly at the children playing in the yard.

A four-year-old child should be running in the sunshine, but her world consists only of this room.

The sunlight was beautiful, and Xue Nai was so engrossed in watching it that a longing expression unconsciously appeared on her pale face.

"Mom," she turned her head, her voice soft and gentle, and tentatively asked, "Can I go out and play for a little while? Just a little while..."

Seri knelt by the bed, wringing out a towel soaked in hot water.

Hearing her daughter's words, she paused slightly before continuing to gently wipe Xue Nai's thin arm.

"It's a bit windy today, Xue Nai." Her voice was gentle, but it couldn't hide her fatigue. "When the weather gets warmer in a few days, Mom will take you out again, okay?"

Yukina lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting a faint shadow beneath them.

She didn't make a fuss, but simply nodded obediently: "Okay. Let's go when the weather gets warmer."

She's always so sensible. So sensible it breaks your heart.

Seri continued to wash her gently. The hot water felt soothing, and Yukina closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of her mother's fingertips.

She could sense that her mother was unusually quiet today, and her movements were slower than usual.

When she touched her chest, her mother's hand suddenly stopped.

Yukina opened her eyes and saw her mother staring at her clearly visible ribs.

Beneath that thin layer of skin, the outline of the bones was too obvious, like the branches of a withered tree in winter.

Xue Nai has lost weight again recently. Despite her efforts to eat and take medicine, her body is like a leaky bamboo basket, unable to retain nutrients.

She saw her mother's hands begin to tremble slightly.

Seri's gaze moved from Yukina's ribs to her pale face, and then to her plum-red eyes, which were always shrouded in a sickly shadow.

She recalled the doctor's words from yesterday: "Miss's constitution... may be difficult to manage. Madam needs to be mentally prepared."

Mental preparation.

What kind of mental preparation? Are you prepared to watch your daughter grow weaker day by day? Are you prepared to outlive your child?

She thought of her husband again, the man she almost never saw. The young master of the Ubuyashiki family, her husband. He was seriously ill and bedridden, yet he never wanted to see her, much less his sickly daughter.

Her in-laws always looked at her with reproach: Why couldn't she give birth to a healthy boy? Why was even their only daughter so frail?

"sorry……"

Seri's voice suddenly broke.

She covered her face, her shoulders trembling violently. Resentment towards her husband's indifference, helplessness in the face of her daughter's illness, and despair at her own powerlessness.

Those emotions that had been suppressed for too long finally broke through the dam at this moment.

"I'm sorry... Yukina... Mommy is so sorry..."

She cried her heart out, and the cloth fell onto the bedding, leaving a dark stain.

Yukina was terrified.

She struggled to sit up, her small hands frantically reaching for her sleeve.

"Mom? Mom, what's wrong? Don't cry... Did Yukina do something wrong?"

"Mommy, don't cry... Xue Nai will be good, Xue Nai will take her medicine and eat well..." Her voice was choked with tears. "Xue Nai will get better soon, and then she can go for a walk in the yard with Mommy... Mommy, don't cry..."

Se-ri's crying gradually subsided, turning into intermittent sobs.

She looked up and saw her daughter trying to comfort her while holding back tears, and her heart ached as if it were being stabbed with needles.

This child is so sensible, so sensible that he doesn't seem like a four-year-old.

She reached out and gently stroked the top of Yukina's soft hair, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Xue Nai didn't do anything wrong." Her voice was hoarse. "It's Mom... Mom is so useless."

Xue Nai shook her head vigorously: "Mom is the best! Mom tells Xue Nai stories, sings beautiful songs, and makes sweet pear soup..."

Se-ri felt a tightness in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

"Xue Nai, be good, Mommy's alright now." She picked up the cloth and continued to wash Xue Nai. "Lie down, after Mommy's done washing you, you can rest for a while, okay?"

Xue Nai lay down obediently, but her eyes kept following her mother.

She could sense that although her mother was smiling, she wasn't happy.

After washing her up, Se-ri covered her with a blanket and gently kissed her forehead.

"Xue Nai, get some rest. Mom has something to do, she'll be back in a bit."

Her voice was eerily calm, and her eyes were vacant.

Xuena anxiously grabbed her sleeve: "Where is Mommy going?"

"Nowhere," Mom said, patting her face. "Just going out for a little while. Be good, Xue Nai, close your eyes and go to sleep."

Xue Na hesitated before letting go, watching her mother get up and leave.

As Se-ri reached the door, she glanced back at her. Her gaze was so complex—it contained love, reluctance, and despair.

But four-year-old Yukina couldn't read it.

She simply closed her eyes obediently, thinking to herself: When Mom comes back, I'll tell her that I really don't mind not being able to go out to play. As long as I'm with Mom, I'm happy even in the room.

in the afternoon,

It was Yuuko, the familiar maid, who came to keep Yukina company and tell her stories.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly heard hurried footsteps and suppressed gasps outside the door.

The story ends abruptly.

Yukina opened her eyes groggily and saw Yuko staring at the paper door, her face ashen.

"Yuko-neechan, what's wrong?" Yukina asked softly, her voice still sleepy.

Yuko opened her mouth, but her lips trembled and she couldn't make a sound.

A voice outside the door whispered, "Madam...Madam is in her room...she hanged herself..."

The room suddenly fell silent.

Yukina blinked, looking at her in confusion: "Madam... do you mean Mom? Yuko-neechan, what happened to Mom? Why did she hang herself in her room? What does hanging mean?"

Yuko's eyes suddenly reddened. She didn't know how to say it to the child in front of her, so she could only turn her face away, her shoulders trembling slightly.

"What's wrong with Mom?" Yukina sat up, her voice filled with unease. "Where did she go? Is she playing some kind of game with Yukina?"

"Madam, she..." Yuko's voice choked with sobs.

Looking at her red eyes and hesitant expression, Xue Nai felt a surge of unease wash over her.

"Mom..." she whispered, "Does that mean you don't want Xue Nai anymore?"

The maid could no longer hold back her tears. She stepped forward and hugged Xue Nai, pulling her small body into her arms.

"Miss... Madam just went to a very far place..."

She couldn't find any other words to comfort her.

She held Yukina, motionless. She didn't fully understand what hanging meant, but she understood "a very far place".

That night, Yukina lay alone in bed.

The maid wanted to keep her company, but she shook her head and said she wanted to sleep alone.

Once the room was completely quiet, moonlight streamed in through the window paper, casting a cold, silvery-white glow on the floor.

Yukina buried her face in the pillow and finally cried softly.

She remembered the song her mother hummed while combing her hair, her mother's warm hands, and the words she said when her mother cried.

Is it because I'm always sick and always make my mom worry that she went to such a far place?

Did I... kill my mother?

This thought took root in her young heart.

She cried even harder, her thin shoulders trembling under the blanket, but she dared not make a loud sound, afraid that the maids outside would hear her.