Adolescent Adam

Volume 4, Prologue

Kagari Enju had the misfortune of not being born into a loving family.

Her mother had not known which of the many men she had slept around with was the father and she had hated the daughter even before she was born.

Her mother had lacked the courage to leave her with an institution. In a way, that was only more bad luck. A child was less happy being raised by an irresponsible parent than being separated from their parent. From her earliest memories, Enju had been verbally and physically abused by her mother and even burned all over her body by cigarettes.

“I’m hungry.”

That was the most common phrase she had uttered. Her mother would grow angry if she so much as spoke to her, but if she said that, her mother would give her some bread or a snack while yelling at her. She had only gotten one meager meal a day, but it was enough to survive.

However, her last moments had also come from those words.

Not long after turning four, her mother had been more irritated than usual when returning from work. Informing her mother of her empty stomach must have gotten on her nerves because she had suddenly slapped her.

Her mother had hit her plenty of times before, but this one had been especially strong and her feet had given out below her. When she had toppled backwards, the girl’s head had struck the corner of the table.

After realizing her daughter had stopped moving, the mother had panicked, but only for a few minutes. After calling out to her a few times and realizing her breathing was shallow, the woman had gathered her bankbook and her favorite lipstick from the dresser and some expensive-looking clothes from the closet. She had done it so quickly she had almost looked gleeful.

When Enju had come to, the woman was no longer in the room.

The front door’s lock had been broken and the malnourished girl had not been strong enough to open the rain shutter.

It had taken her a while to realize she was trapped inside. It had taken her much longer to realize her mother had abandoned her.

“I’m hungry…”

Before long, she had found herself unable to move or speak properly.

The long, long wait for death had taught the dying girl one thing: her mother had hated her.

“Everyone… I hate…everyone…”