Chapter 10 – You’re To Blame, Yuri

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The fog was everywhere, a suffocating blanket that muffled sound and distorted vision. I stumbled forward, my body heavy, sluggish, my breath catching in my throat.

“Noah! Where are you?!” I cried, my voice swallowed by the fog. I reached out, my fingers grasping at empty air. Panic clawed at me.
What is this place? Am I even going the right way?

“Noah… please… answer me…”

I looked around, my heart pounding. And then, as if in answer to my desperate plea, the fog began to recede, revealing a familiar scene.

“What…?”

Wooden floors, faded wallpaper, a small table by the window…

“My… my house?”

It was. My childhood home, recreated in perfect detail within the Abyss. Memories, long buried, began to surface.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of wood and dust filling my nostrils, a faint chill clinging to the air.

“Why… why is this here?”

I walked through the silent house, every detail perfectly preserved: the small table in the kitchen, the worn chairs, the old clock on the wall. It was as if time had stood still.

“Yuri,” a voice called out, a voice I knew, a voice I dreaded. “You’re late. Did you finish the dishes?”

My heart sank. I turned slowly.

“Mom…?”

She stood there, exactly as I remembered her: impeccably dressed, her hair perfectly coiffed, a gentle smile gracing her lips. But that smile… it was a mask, hiding the coldness, the cruelty that lay beneath.

“Why are you just standing there?” Her voice was sharp, laced with irritation. “Didn’t you hear me?”

I flinched, instinctively stepping back.

“No… I… I just…” I stammered, my mind racing.
Why is she here? Why now?

“You’re always so slow,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “That’s why no one likes you. No one wants a useless child like you.”

“No… please, don’t…” Her words, sharp as shards of glass, pierced my heart. My breath hitched in my throat, my mind reeling.

Outside, she was the perfect mother, kind, gracious, admired by everyone. But behind closed doors… a different story. A single misstep, a misplaced word, and her fury would erupt, a torrent of insults, of accusations, often followed by the sting of her hand.

“You’ll never amount to anything,” she’d say, her voice laced with venom. “Everything you touch turns to failure.”

Her words had haunted me, shaping my childhood, making me feel small, worthless, afraid to even breathe.

But there had been one bright spot in the darkness. Noah. An orphan boy, ostracized by the village, yet always cheerful, always kind. The walks we’d taken in the woods, his silly jokes, his easy laughter… those brief moments had been my only solace.

One day, he’d seen the bruises on my face.

“Yuri,” he’d asked, his voice gentle, concerned, “what happened?”

I’d flinched, turning away. Usually, she was careful to hit me where it wouldn’t show, but this time…

“I… I fell,” I’d mumbled, a pathetic lie.

“Yuri,” he’d said, his hand resting gently on my shoulder, a warmth that contrasted sharply with the icy grip of my mother’s hand. “Tell me the truth.” He’d looked at me, his eyes filled with a kindness I’d never known, and the dam had broken.

“She… she hits me,” I’d sobbed, the words pouring out of me, a torrent of suppressed emotions. “She yells at me… says it’s all my fault… I try so hard… but it’s never enough…”

He’d held me close, his arms warm and comforting, absorbing my tears, my pain.

“It’s okay, Yuri,” he’d whispered. “I’ll find a way.”

And he had.

A few days later, he’d burst into the house, just as my mother was raising her hand to strike me. He’d stood before me, a shield against her fury, his small frame radiating an unexpected strength.

“Leave her alone!” he’d shouted, his voice ringing with authority.

“Who are you?!” my mother shrieked. “How dare you interfere!”

“I won’t let you hurt her anymore,” he’d said, his gaze unwavering. “I’m taking her with me.”

He’d taken my hand, his grip firm, reassuring. His hand, rough and calloused from a life of hardship, felt warm, safe.

“Yuri, let’s go.”

“Noah, are you… are you sure…?” I’d asked, my voice trembling.

He’d smiled, a bright, confident smile that filled me with hope. “You deserve to be free, Yuri. You’re too good for this place.”

His words resonated deep within me, a spark of defiance igniting within my soul.

“Okay,” I’d whispered, gripping his hand tighter. “Let’s go.”

We’d run, hand in hand, into the rain, the cool drops washing away the tears, the pain, the fear.

“You’re free now, Yuri,” he’d said, his voice filled with warmth. “We’ll find a new place, together.”

I’d smiled, a genuine smile, for the first time in as long as I could remember. His hand in mine, I felt… safe. Invincible.

But something had felt… off. I’d felt two warm hands in mine, not just Noah’s. A fleeting moment of confusion, a question that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Why… two?

I’d looked at Noah, his smiling face, and the other warmth had faded, the question forgotten.
It’s okay. Noah’s here. He’ll take care of me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the memories of my mother’s cruelty, her sharp words, her cold gaze, flooding back, threatening to overwhelm me.
No. This isn’t real. I’m not there anymore. I’m free.

I opened my eyes. My mother’s phantom still stood before me, her smile mocking.

“You haven’t changed,” she sneered. “Still useless. Still a failure. Even he will leave you eventually.”

Her words stung, a familiar barb twisting in my gut. A flicker of doubt, a whisper of insecurity, threatened to consume me.
Was she right? Was I truly worthless?

And then, Noah’s voice echoed in my mind, stronger, louder than my mother’s taunts.

“You deserve to be free.”

“Yuri, it’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

He had protected me. He’d saved me from that prison. But now… now it was my turn. I couldn’t let my past define me, couldn’t let it hold me back, couldn’t let it drag Noah down with me.

I took a deep breath, my voice trembling, but firm.

“No,” I said, meeting her gaze. “I’m not the same anymore. I’m not a failure.
You
are.”

The phantom flickered, its form growing hazy.

“You don’t define me,” I said, my voice stronger now. “Get lost. And don’t ever come back.”

The image faded, the mocking smile, the cruel words, dissolving into nothingness. I was alone again, surrounded by the swirling fog.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, my heart still pounding, but the fear… the fear was gone.

“Noah,” I whispered, stepping forward, the fog parting before me. “Wait for me. I’m coming.”

He was my anchor, my strength. Our shared experiences had shaped me, defined me, shown me who I truly was. The past, once a chain holding me back, was now the path forward.

I walked on, slowly, but surely, ready to face whatever the Abyss threw at me.