It all began ten years ago when the first hard-cover copy of Heaven City hit the shelves.
The story follows a young boy on the run from the love of seven goddesses, each one unique and willing to kill. They would not let anyone get in the way... The tension built, and the drama soared. Just as the story reached its climax, before we could discover which goddess the boy would choose to marry, an empty blank page took the place of the ending.
In Cirque alone, over a thousand copies were sold. And with that success came outrage. Fans flooded the streets, demanding the author's head, even sending death threats, hoping a curse might claim her life.
In a way, the fans got what they wanted... but not how they'd hoped. My mother, the infamous author of Heaven City, lived an unapologetic, joy-filled life with her children. She never cared about their outrage. And when her time came, she passed away peacefully, taking the truth of that missing page with her.
♢ ♢ ♢
Late Night 2 of the Moonlight Festival
The paper-mache girl glared at me, her voice dripping with disdain. "Sorry, but that final page is important to me. I can't have you slowing me down."
I let out a dry laugh, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please... You should know just how important this is to me..."
She sized me up, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, searching for any weakness to exploit. I felt her judgment weigh down on me, like she was measuring my worth in her mind. "Sheeesh, talk about pathetic. You complain about your life but never lift a finger to change it. You talk about dreams, but you're too scared to chase them. Everything about you disgusts me."
Her words hit harder than any punch could, and I couldn't bring myself to look up. I couldn't even meet my own eyes. "Yeah... I guess you're right."
She scoffed, arms crossed over her chest, "Teaming up with you would only be a waste of my time."
"Yeah... I don't have a retort for that one either..."
A smug laugh escaped her as she turned her back on me and walked toward Liberty. "In the end, being alone suits a girl like me~."
Her words stung, but I couldn't argue. She was right. She had everything I didn't. Strength, confidence, beauty, control. But, there was a flicker of something in me... Something that made me burn with the desire to rise above her, even if she was better than me in every single way, even if she was everything I wanted to be...
"Hey... Paper Idiot..."
She spun around, her smirk never fading. "Yeah? What is it~?"
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to speak through almost-spilled tears, "Do you remember this morning... the smell of that hotel room? The way we curled up in bed, all alone. Our clothes were stained, and we were too scared to show our faces in public. The night before... When the owner of the restaurant glared at us, and not a single person was there to help us... The fear of anyone even looking at us... The fear of everyone's gaze..."
Her expression faltered, just for a second, before she caught herself. "Yeah~ So what?"
I stepped closer, meeting her eyes, my voice steady despite the tremor inside. "You're supposed to be the ideal version of me, right? The version I always wanted to be... Beautiful, confident, strong... But... alone?"
She smirked again, her arrogance in full swing. "Are you really critiquing me~?"
"Yeah, I am. Who else is better at critiquing me than me?" I took another step forward, my voice gaining strength. "I thought I wanted to be like you, feel like you, but now I see it. You're just as much of a mess as I am. You hide behind that confidence, but it's just... loneliness. You're so focused on being perfect that you forget what it means to actually live. No way I'll end up a loser like you."
She laughed a high pitched laugh that echoed loudly in this endless universe. She covered her mouth with one hand as if my words were some kind of joke. "Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening. Well, Shiori, your best chance was to attack me while my back was turned~."
Her smugness grated on me, but I couldn't let it show. I took another breath and steadied myself. If she could do it, I could too. I wasn't going to let her have the upper hand any longer. She might be the ideal version of me that I dreamed of 15 minutes ago, but that didn't mean I couldn't create a better version of myself... RIGHT NOW!
I closed my eyes and focused, feeling the wind pick up, the scattered pages of books on the ground swirling around me. I let the magic build in my chest, my hands shaking with anticipation. I could feel it, the power rising. I could do this. I was the one in control now.
She pulled out her book, her eyes glowing with determination. "Too late! [Paper Prison] JAIL BREAK!"
Magic surged around us, crackling in the air, but I wasn't afraid. I was ready. Slowly, a halo flickered into existence above my head, like a star being born. The ground beneath me shifted, and the paper around me unfolded, forming into a dress; the same fluffy one she wore, but it was mine!
"I DID IT!" I shouted, the rush of realization crashing over me like a wave. This wasn't just a knock-off. This was me... finally becoming the version of myself I had been chasing!
I ripped the halo from my head, mimicking her move. It transformed into a book, and before she could react, projectiles rained toward me. Each one was captured within the pages, frozen in time as the book rapidly turned.
"Your ability's just a fancy backpack," I taunted, watching her take a defensive step back.
Her grip tightened around her sword, her glare fiery. "Just because you understand how it works doesn't mean you can beat me!"
I closed the gap between us, my voice sharp with confidence. "Oh, I don't know... Makes me wonder why you didn't capture me earlier."
Her eyes flickered with panic, just as I thought. Capturing a person was different from capturing an object. And now, I had the advantage.
I moved my book towards her, the pages flipping rapidly. The idea was simple, she was made of paper, not flesh. This book could store a multitude of items, but it seems heavier and stronger ones took a little longer to capture. But this? This capture would happen in a flash. After all, paper in a book is as natural as ink on its pages.
She took a step back, her eyes widening in realization. "No... You do—"
But it was too late. I snapped the book shut with a swift motion, the pages folding over themselves with a satisfying thud. The room went silent as the paper-mache girl remained frozen on page 7.