Archive of Our Own

Work Text

One, two, three, four.Four times. That’s how many times the pearls from my mother’s necklace hit the ground as it broke, rolling somewhere beneath the tangle of wires behind the speakers and the jellyfish-shaped lights, while the instrumental music continued to play.Five, six, seven, eight.Eight seconds passed before the fans in the front row realized something was wrong—that the woman holding the bloodied knife over the lifeless body wasn’t part of the performance.Nine, ten, eleven, twelve.Twelve times. That’s how many times I replayed that scene in my mind since the Gotham City police took me to the station to give my statement about what had happened.The questions were always the same:
— "Do you know the killer?"
— "What was your mother’s relationship with the killer?"
— "Did your mother have any enemies?"
— "Are you sure of what you saw?"
— "Did your mother have any secrets?"
— "Are you okay?"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen.Sixteen was the number of steps from the interrogation room to the psychologist’s office.
I’ve known how to count since I was four years old—it’s my earliest memory, and for some reason, the most vivid.
I was in the rehearsal room, watching my mother practice her performance for her show. She counted each step of her routine as she evaluated her movements in the mirror’s reflection.— "Counting helps you focus on what’s important," she used to say.
And it was by watching her practice that I learned the numbers. They became an annoying and irrepressible habit, according to some people, but I like it. Counting gives me an illusory sense of control, and I feel comforted by it.Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.Twenty was the number of dancers who fled the stage, ignoring the fallen body. I remember every detail clearly: the ellipsoidal lights shining in shades of blue and purple, the speakers making the stage’s wooden and iron structure tremble, the pearls from the necklace hitting the carpet, the wireless microphone rolling to my feet.She never liked pearls; she always preferred sapphires. But that day, since I was going to make a small appearance in her show, she insisted I wear her favorite sapphire necklace.
Bright, fiery blue sapphires. Just like the color of my eyes. I was about to step onto the stage for the final duet when it happened.Kira Hoshi didn’t scream.
When the knife pierced her abdomen, she looked at the perpetrator in shock. They exchanged words—silent, muted—that I’ll never know the meaning of, and then my mother’s body fell with a dull thud, collapsing to her knees.
The woman with dark hair and colorful streaks looked at me with a smile before leaving the scene.When I ran toward the bloodied body on the ground, no one tried to stop me.
I can’t remember what happened next. There were no more sequences; the numbers began to jumble in my mind, stuck in no particular order.The microphone in my hand fell, emitting a sharp, irritating sound as I embraced the bloodied body. She stroked my face, wiping the tears streaming down my cheeks. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear anything except the microphone’s grating sound.Her lips curved into a faint smile as one of her hands caressed my dark blue hair.
"I love you," her lips mouthed silently.
A lump formed in my throat, and more tears rolled down my cheeks.
When her dark eyes lost their shine, I knew I would never hear those words from her again.I don’t know how much time passed before someone pulled me away from the body. I didn’t even have the strength to look away.
My hands were cold as ice, and the blue and purple lights still flashed overhead when two officers dragged me away as the paramedics approached to examine her body.But just like me, they already knew it was too late.
A police officer wrapped a thermal blanket around my shoulders. Some idiot had triggered the fire alarm while fleeing the venue, leaving me drenched from head to toe, but I barely noticed.I simply let them lead me away from the chaos as if I were a little girl, and then they made me relive that scene over and over again until they were either tired or satisfied. And when they were satisfied, they let the reporters swarm me until all I could see were lights.Every eye was on me, in the center of that room like in a circus. Exactly like in a circus. And as much as I wanted to step out of the spotlight, I knew the wall of people surrounding me wouldn’t allow it.After the reporters gathered all the material they would sell on magazine and newspaper covers for the next few weeks, I was finally alone—or rather, almost alone.
A police officer chatted on the phone about some idiot she’d met at a party, but she didn’t seem interested or bothered by my presence.It was nearly midnight when an officer finally cared enough to inform me of what would happen to me next. They told me they couldn’t reach my aunt at the number I had provided, so they searched through my mother’s contacts and called my father, who was already there to pick me up.I let the thermal blanket slide off my shoulders as I followed the officer escorting me to the station’s exit. In front of the gate, a man dressed in an elegant suit waited by the car. I approached hesitantly, feeling his eyes fixed on me.— "Hello, Alice," he said, bowing slightly. "It’s been some time..."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Did some bird beat its wings in Asia?Did some force take you because I didn’t pray?Everything that was to come turned to ashesBecause it’s all over, it wasn’t meant to beSo I’ll say words I don’t believe— Bigger than the whole sky - Taylor Swift"My house... it’s not here."It was the first thought I had upon waking up alone in one of the guest rooms of Wayne Manor in the morning.The impeccably aligned white sheets, the cream-toned, monotonous walls, and the pitcher with a glass of water on the table beside the bed only emphasized the thought."My house is not here."I whispered to myself, closing my eyes, and my heart ached.Home. That word feels so foreign on my lips. Home has many names for me: "家 Ie," "maison," "hogar," house... whatever the name, I feel like I never truly understood its meaning. Home was never a physical place for me. Home, "a place where you can create lifelong memories." Home, for me, was wherever my mother was performing her shows. Tokyo, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, Madrid. Wherever she was, I was too. She was my home. The only one I knew.And now, I have no home at all.Maybe that's the downside of making someone your home. Once you lose that person, no matter where you go, you become a stranger. Not that it’s a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. I’ve always felt like a stranger in my own skin.The last time I felt at home, it was June 1st. I was on the balcony of our house in Whitechapel, London. A cup of Earl Grey tea rested beside me along with the candy jar, which was empty—cookie jars never lasted long, especially when they were within my reach—but the tea, almost spilling out of the cup, had gone cold. I had added milk to the tea, as recommended, but I didn’t like it.— “Of course, there’s no backing out...” — I sighed after rereading for the thousandth time the email thanking me for participating but informing me I hadn’t been accepted into the selection process for joining another idol group.In recent years, groups of young artists in the "idol" format had become astonishingly popular. A new revolution in art was unfolding before my eyes, with Asia leading the charge in innovation.And more than anyone, I knew that if I didn’t keep up, I’d be left behind.— “I took a year to study and train my performances, and I still couldn’t debut at the company I wanted... What’s the point of life, anyway?” — I sighed as my eyes wandered to the starry sky stretching above me.— “You’ll do better next time,” — my mother said, placing a hand on my shoulder before turning her attention to a call from her producer.I rested my head on my hands, watching the stars shining faintly in that dark sea of uncertainties.When my mother ended the call, she excitedly told me she was going on a tour and that I could take a break from my classes to join her closely.We traveled through Tokyo, Amsterdam, Paris, Sydney, New York... But nothing prepared me for Gotham."I love you." That faint whisper still echoed in my mind, staining my vision red."I love you." And then, a deafening silence, filled with anguish and despair."I love you." And now I’m here, in a place I don’t know, with people I’ve only heard about.I sighed, trying to wash those thoughts away. I knew that at some point I’d have to leave that bed and interact with the other residents of the house, though I had no desire to.I was about to roll over again in bed and bury my face in the pillow when my phone buzzed, alerting me to a notification. I dragged my hand across the white sheets to reach the phone, the screen lighting up as soon as the device recognized my fingerprint."Dear Alice Hoshi,We inform you that you have been accepted in the Mystic group admission exam (2nd round). You will receive our integration guidelines and the agreement contract to join our company group.Please complete the attached form to finalize the enrollment documentation. Once the documentation process is complete, your debut will take place on August 1st. You are required to attend our headquarters in Gotham to begin your training on September 1st.Sincerely,NextFuture Enterprises."For a moment, the world went silent. All I could hear was the echo of my mother’s microphone hitting the floor and rolling to my feet.That dry, metallic sound.My eyes scanned those words again.That was everything I had wanted to read for so long. A few days ago, I’d be jumping and screaming around the hotel room.But now, I didn’t know how to feel.What was I supposed to feel?How was I supposed to act?My eyes lingered on those words until the phone screen turned off. I remained still, staring at the device in silence.The screen lit up again, and the phone began to vibrate and chime, overwhelmed by so many notifications.I hadn’t been given an opportunity because the company believed I had talent. No, I knew what they had in mind. I was the novelty, the gossip that would make them profit.Until the start of the tour, no one knew Kira Hoshi had a daughter.No one knew; only she and my father kept that secret, and of course, my aunt. But beyond that, no one knew.Until she decided to reveal it to her fans during the first show of the tour in London, causing an uproar among her fans by calling me on stage to open and close the show with her.Over time, I could see their divided opinions. Most felt betrayed by my mother, dissatisfied. They hated the idea of her having a life they didn’t know about. Idols didn’t have children. They were angelic beings created solely to bless mere mortals with their art and talent. Idols didn’t have relationships; they existed only to illuminate and shine on those without the same light.That was one of the first lessons my mother taught me when I said I wanted to be an idol like her.Before it was revealed that I was her daughter, no one even noticed me, but now, it seemed all the spotlights were pointed in my direction. I skimmed through countless offers filling my inbox with disinterest and then dropped the phone on the bed, standing up.I looked at my reflection in the mirror, wearing the black dress someone had left at my door in a black box with a matching black satin bow, and applied makeup to hide the dark circles from a sleepless night.I didn’t need anyone to tell me; I knew my father was waiting for me somewhere in the mansion to accompany me to the funeral, which he had personally arranged.It was a kind gesture, considering he’d been absent for most of my life—not that I cared; I barely knew him.Bruce Wayne was barely a name in my family.— “All set?” — he asked softly as I descended the stairs, and I nodded silently in response.“I’d like to introduce you to someone,” he said, and a boy with dark skin, green eyes, and hair as dark as Bruce’s appeared in the mansion’s entry hall, dressed in a fine, dark suit.“This is my other son. Your younger brother, Damian.”As for me, I almost blended into the white walls of the house. I was albino, a condition that had always bothered me. It wasn’t easy to go unnoticed; heads almost snapped when I walked through hallways. But my mother loved it."Kimi no kami ni wa hoshi no kagayaki ga aru (You have the brightness of stars in your hair)," she used to say.— “Pleasure to meet you,” the boy who was almost a replica of Bruce approached, looking at me intently.— “My condolences,” he added.I studied him for a moment, trying to ignore the fact that my father had chosen to be part of one child’s life over another.— “Likewise,” I murmured, looking away.— “Thank you.”— “There are more people I’d like you to meet,” my father said.“Another time. The car is ready. Shall we?”Again, I nodded silently and followed them into the car. The fifteen-minute drive to the mausoleum where my mother would rest was entirely silent.When I stepped out of the car with my father and Damian, reporters surged toward us like vultures with insensitive questions.The flashes blocked my vision; this was nothing more than a spectacle for the media. They would profit from my pain.I didn’t answer the questions, didn’t look at the cameras; I just walked between my father and Damian to the front-row chairs as the priest began the sermon. My mother never considered herself Catholic; she wasn’t even a religious person, yet the people around seemed moved.They tried to persuade me to say a few words about how she had been a good mother, but I didn’t want to.Words weren’t necessary.I had said everything I wanted to her while she was alive. We were never ones to leave what mattered for later.At the end of the sermon, my father accompanied me to the casket so I could say goodbye. He left a bouquet of white roses on her eternal resting place, frowning as I removed them, replacing them with red tulips.— “She always hated roses,” I said simply, looking at her eternally peaceful face. She looked more radiant than ever."The stars shine their brightest in their final moments, more than at any other time in their long existence," she once told me.“You’re right,” I almost whispered but didn’t. I stayed silent, just watching her. I don’t know how long I stood there, but eventually, I left, leaving my father and Damian behind, waiting in the car with the butler until everything was over.The butler, whom I learned was named Alfred, kindly drove around in silence and returned to the burial site when everyone was gone, giving me a few minutes alone with my mother.— “NextFuture Enterprises accepted my application,” I said, looking at her pale, serene face. “I wish you were here to see it; you would have been happy.”Warm tears slid gently down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped them away. I leaned softly over her body and kissed her forehead, feeling my heart tighten."I love you..." The voice echoed in my mind.— “I love you too,” I whispered, stumbling over my own feet as I stepped back.— “I’m sorry I don’t have any words for you now; I spent all I had on you while you were alive.”Finally, they closed the casket and carried it into the mausoleum. I watched the wooden door shut, and then it began to rain.I stood there until I felt the rain stop falling on me. It hadn’t stopped raining; it was just my father holding a black umbrella to shield me.— “Let’s go home,” he said, gently guiding me to the car with his hand on my back.Before entering the vehicle again, I glanced at that mausoleum one last time, with the certainty in my heart that Gotham City would never be my home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

All they keep asking meIs if I'm gonna be your brideThe only kind of girl they seeIs a one-night or a wife- Lavender Haze, Taylor SwiftGotham City, New Jersey,April 1991"Meet me at midnight" - the message scrawled on the napkin read.Bruce tucked it into one of the pockets of his fine blazer, downing another shot. The night had barely begun, yet his friend, Thomas Elliot, was already sprawled on the leather couch amidst bottles and empty glasses.Alcohol, cigars, sweat... the frenzy of youth lingered in the air. Bruce Wayne was just about to pay for the drinks and drag Thomas to the car when she arrived.If there truly is a supreme entity like God, Kira Hoshi was the concrete definition of an angel. Their gazes briefly met as she took her place on the stage. Bruce leaned back in his chair with a sly grin while Kira parted her crimson lips - red as sin, he thought.Those lips, sweet and forbidden, the ones he had been claiming as his for over a month now.Her melodious voice filled the air, caressing Bruce's senses and everyone around him. Kira had an inexplicable charm. She was like a choir of angels when she sang jazz - though it wasn't her favorite genre, nor the one she usually performed. But tonight, she was singing only for him.It was for him. Bruce knew. She didn't sing jazz for anyone else. Her lips moved hypnotically, her body swayed slowly, like waves lapping on the shore on a calm Sunday morning, while her voice wove webs in the air.Kira. Kira. Kira.Bruce gestured, and the waiter brought another Burgundy beer. He gulped the fizzy drink noisily, never taking his eyes off the woman, who was beginning to draw a crowd to the Yacht Club."Is Kira singing?" Thomas slurred drunkenly, still sprawled.The young man attempted to stand only to collapse back onto the floor, laughing at absolutely nothing as he stared at the ceiling."Yes, it's her," Bruce replied simply."She's putting on quite a show," Thomas murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.He was starting to turn green. Bruce wouldn't bet half an hour before he vomited on the carpet."You should go home. Drinking yourself sick won't bring your ex back.""And gawking at Kira won't get her into bed with you," Elliot retorted, struggling to sit upright. "How long will you two keep up this game? The media's already talking. Everyone is, actually.""You should worry more about your own plate than mine," Bruce grumbled, wrinkling his nose."Plate? I've got a whole menu," Thomas laughed, winking at a group of girls observing from afar. "You shouldn't ignore yours," he added, nodding toward another group eyeing Bruce.The women looked like vultures, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in on their prey."I'm not neglecting anyone; I just see no point in focusing elsewhere when my main course is so well-served." His eyes inevitably found Kira's again, and suddenly, Thomas was nothing more than a distant echo.The young woman was like a haunting refrain, bursting like champagne bubbles in his mind. Just one smile from her, and Bruce felt his head spin."Control yourself," he silently thought, lazily trying not to fall under her spell.Kira intoxicated Bruce's soul with just a look, making his head spin at the thought of her considering his pleas.Sweet pleas.The entire city of Gotham had its eyes on them. What harm would it do to make their relationship official? She wouldn't need to return to Japan, and he could have her entirely.Or almost entirely - he still needed to travel, be away for a few years, until his training was complete. After that, they could be together, but he would feel much safer if she stayed at Wayne Manor before then.After all, Kira Hoshi was not a woman who waited.When the song ended, Bruce immediately stood, tossing some bills onto the table as he left Thomas behind. He adjusted his fine blazer as he walked toward the makeshift dressing room. The security guards didn't stop him.When the door opened, the temperature rose like the peak of a July summer. She smiled, almost devilishly, seated before the mirror.He locked the door behind him, slowly approaching as the tension thickened in the air. Words weren't necessary; their bodies spoke better. They had a unique way of communicating.Between laughter and sighs, their bodies pressed and rubbed against each other, shedding the shell of clothing as their lips merged in an urgent kiss under the room's yellowish light.At dawn, they were both tangled and naked in a nearby hotel room. Bruce's mouth was stained with Kira's lipstick as she lazily caressed his hair, showering him with more kisses.They ended up staring at the ceiling in comfortable silence as the day broke. There were no sunbeams - it was rare to see anything but dark clouds in Gotham's skies. But there was a promise of sunshine in the air, though absent."You're awfully quiet today," he broke the silence, running a hand down her back without taking his eyes off the ceiling."I thought you liked silence," she purred, nestling against him. "After all, Bruce Wayne definitely isn't a man of many words, is he?""But you are. You talk non-stop," he finally looked at her. "Something happened," he concluded."Something?" she echoed with a mischievous smile."Yes. Tell me."Her dark eyes met Bruce's blue ones. Her eyes were brilliant in an inexplicable way - like an entire galaxy of stars."I'm pregnant," she said, the phrase crashing through Bruce's mind as he raised his eyebrows, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant to say."Silence fell again."Do you want the baby, or...?" Bruce hesitated. Rarely did he ever hesitate in life."I want it. I want to go through with the pregnancy.""Then you'll give up being an idol?""No." She said it so naturally that he looked at her in surprise and confusion. "I want both.""But the critics...""I know what the critics and the media will say; that's why I'll hide the pregnancy. This way, I can have the best of both worlds. Isn't that nice?" She smiled.Bruce refrained, his opinion vastly different on the matter."Well, then let's get married. The child won't be left ungua-""No." Kira interrupted. "You can visit the child if you want, but I'm not marrying you.""Why not? You could have everything. I'd give you everything. Anything you wanted.""I'm made of art, Bruce," Kira sat up in bed, looking at him. "Art wasn't made to be locked away in forgotten museum halls or your private gallery, gathering dust. No. Art was made to be felt, whether it pleases or not.""Have you ever stopped to think about what others will say?""I'd be screwed if I cared what people said about me. All they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride. The only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife. I think it's disturbing how they write my story. I'd rather narrate it myself."Kira left without another word. Bruce didn't stop her. She boarded a flight to Japan the next afternoon.They never saw each other again.Himalayan Mountains,June 26, 1991.Bruce was in the midst of his training with Ra's al Ghul in the League of Assassins. He was taking a break between combat sessions when his phone suddenly vibrated. The caller ID displayed a number he knew all too well.- Alice was born. - The familiar voice announced.- Alice?- Our daughter.- Why Alice?- It's different from the names here. I like how it sounds. And the story has always enchanted me. Doesn't it fill you with euphoria, thinking that this little being might discover a world full of wonders?- You chose it because of a book?- Many parents do. Besides, I carried her for nine months. I have the right.- Alice. - He tasted the name. Indeed, it didn't sound bad.- Alice Martha Hoshi.- And Wayne?- It would be suspicious to register her like that.- You're not adding Wayne?- No. The ones who walked out of the hospital with her were my producer and his girlfriend. I'll raise Alice in secret, but for all intents and purposes, she's their daughter.- So she won't know-...- She'll know the truth. But only when she's older. - Kira interrupted.- I see.- She has your eyes, you know? Blue, but brighter. It was a pleasant surprise.- Many babies are born with light eyes; they'll darken.- I don't think so.Silence filled the air.- Bruce, do you want to meet her?- I can't, not now.- Yes, not now, but someday?- Someday.---Someday. - A promise never fulfilled. Bruce remembered, looking at Alice curled up on the bed. He had never planned for that "someday" to come like this.He hadn't even planned for this to become real, honestly. Bruce Wayne was just a shell, a disguise for what he truly was.And he had enough experiences to be sure he wasn't someone who could be a father.Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon... All these names marked his failures.Gotham wasn't a place for children, and Wayne Manor wasn't a place for children - it was a forge for soldiers.The moment he became Batman, he decided never to have contact with Alice. But when Jason Todd died, he became certain he could never meet her.He wouldn't leave the girl or her mother without support, of course, but it was better for him to stay away. Keeping his distance, she wouldn't be destroyed - or so he thought.If only he had attended the show, Kira would still be alive, and Alice wouldn't be sinking into the mattress, drowning in her own tears.Tears.They didn't even fall anymore. She merely stared at nothing in deep silence.He quietly closed the door again, giving the girl her privacy.- She's a crybaby. - Damian commented with boredom, leaning against the wall. - She should be planning her revenge. Seeking justice.- Justice is not revenge, Damian. - Bruce repeated the lesson he always told the boy. He wondered how many more times he'd have to repeat it until Damian learned. - I'd rather she stayed out of both.- You're not going to make her Robin? - Damian narrowed his eyes.- No. You'll be the last to take on that mantle. I don't want her to know anything about it.- Tch. How long are you going to keep her in the dark?- Forever. Alice is not one of us. She'll return to Japan soon.- Pennyworth told me she's also your biological daughter. Why didn't you ever say you had another?- I never planned for her to be in my life.- And you planned for me? - the boy retorted.- It's different.- Different how? Because she's not an assassin like me?- Enough, Damian. - Bruce said sharply. - Go to the Batcomputer and search for videos related to the show. - He ordered while putting on a trench coat.- Where are you going?- To visit a friend.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

One night, a few moons agoI saw spots of what could have been lightsBut it might have just been youPassing by unbeknownst to me- Snow on the Beach, Taylor SwiftOnce, my mother took me to the beach. It was early winter, cold as hell, and everyone called her crazy for taking a six-year-old child out in that weather.Still, we went to the beach.The sky was pale, white like a blank sheet of paper. Blank sheets of paper are like empty canvases, which, for some, is unsettling; for others, peaceful. I never knew which it was for my mother.She always seemed to do everything just for the sake of doing it. Just because she wanted to, because she felt like it. She claimed the world without fear of what others would say. She was the bravest person I ever had the pleasure of knowing.Knowing.Do I know her? Really? She made every smile on stage seem so natural, though it was all a facade. She always said she never really wanted to sing; she did it because someone said she sang well.My "uncles," as I call them. My mother's producers. Everyone thought I was their daughter, and that was better anyway, but I always knew where I really came from.My mother.And my father, though he was always an enigma in my life. Mom told me who he was without hesitation when I asked. I said I wanted to meet him; she called him, and I waited.I waited.Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years.I waited, but he never came.Eventually, I stopped waiting. Over time, I didn't even feel like meeting him anymore; I didn't need him. I had my mother and everyone she created just for me.A world of wonders-she used to say.Mom always loved the story Alice in Wonderland. One of the first things she did when she had enough money was to buy an old ruin in England.She completely restored the stone property, which we later discovered was a very ancient castle. That's where we would go when she didn't need to be anywhere else.We planted red and white roses together. That's where I learned to sing, dance, and play the piano.I learned so many things there, but my real home was wherever she went. So, on that typical cold English day, we went to the beach. I skipped beside her, my little hand disappearing in hers. My hands are still smaller than hers; I realize now they might never be bigger."There are no stars in the sky," I remember saying, staring at the vast whiteness above us."The stars are falling on the sand today." She smiled, and together we watched the snow fall onto the sandy beach, the waves swallowing imaginary stars.Stars were always important to us, maybe because she herself was a star.It was a funny story.I had to do a school project about the meaning of my name as a child. I asked my mom."Actually, our name was Hoshino," she said. "I changed it to Hoshi after I left home." The surname is actually a combination of two kanji: 星 (Hoshi), which means "star," and 野 (no), which means "field, wilderness." So originally, our last name means something like "field of stars." Our family originates from Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan. Our history dates back to the 16th century when our ancestor, Hoshino Kiyomasa, settled in the region. Since then, the family has been known for its craftsmanship and quality products. Your grandparents still craft to this day. They had a toy shop when I was your age. I abandoned the name Hoshino at 16 when I left home, keeping only Hoshi, 'star.' And your name, Alice, I chose because of the land of wonders I know you'll still discover. Its meanings and origins are too many to list, but my favorite is 'dawn.' You are my starlit dawn.""And Martha?""That was your paternal grandmother's name.""Did my dad choose it?""No, I just thought it would be nice to include. It's Aramaic, I think, but I don't know the meaning.""I don't like Martha.""Then you can just be Alice.""And your name, Mom?""It means 'bright,' so if you put the two together, my name means 'bright star.'""We both have stars in our names.""Yes, we're stars." She smiled. "Like those on the sand."We sat in silence, watching the snow form stars on the sand-stars that would be swallowed by the sea waves crashing against the shore.Snow on the beach. It was strangely beautiful and disturbingly comforting."Will we disappear like them?" I asked. "Into the sea?""Stars don't disappear, Alice. Especially not for you," she said. "They'll be wherever you go. Look, you yourself are made of them.""Am I?""Yes." She lifted me in her arms. "You have an entire galaxy full of stars in your eyes."Eyes full of stars.I think of that now, looking at Gotham City's gray sky.I don't see them now. In the sky or anywhere.I look in the mirror.They're not here.The stars aren't anywhere.Suddenly, a soft knock."Come in," I said automatically. I wasn't at the window; I was lying down. The threshold of madness is when you realize you're daydreaming.A bald man with gray hair soon entered, carrying a silver tray so bright that its light nearly blinded me as he approached.The butler stopped by the table at the back of the room, carefully arranging the plates and cutlery on top of the perfectly aligned white tablecloth."I assumed you might be hungry, Miss Wayne.""Hoshi," I corrected him."Hoshi. Right. My apologies."I simply nodded silently. I approached the table; the dinner looked perfect. It was a shame I had no appetite-my stomach churned at the mere thought of eating."If you need anything, feel free to call me. Now, if you'll excuse me..." he said, leaving the room.I sighed, sitting at the table. I forced myself to eat, but I didn't even make it halfway through the plate. In the end, I got up and left the room.The entire mansion was submerged in a deafening silence. I walked around, observing the walls and furniture in sober tones, so different from all the places Mom used to take me.Noisy, colorful, messy places.Places full of life."Miss?" I heard the butler's voice and turned around, finding him. "Do you need anything?""No... I was just walking," I murmured, glancing around again. "Where is everyone?""Your father had to take care of some urgent business related to the company. Your brother is accompanying him.""But at this hour? So late?""Master Bruce is a very busy man.""I see..."I continued walking, knowing the butler was right behind me. Did he think I was going to run away? Or did he fear I might steal something? It was hard to say.Suddenly, something caught my attention. There was something glowing in the sky, between the clouds-a kind of light that seemed to come from the ground upward."What's that?" I asked, moving closer to the window."Ah, that's the Bat-Signal.""Bat-Signal?""A type of signal to summon Batman. Something bad must be happening for them to activate it.""What's Batman?" I looked at the butler."That's a good question. To some people, he's just a madman in a costume; to others, a hero.""What is he to you?""I prefer to abstain," Alfred smiled."Well... And isn't it illegal? Running around in a costume, killing people?""Technically, yes, but the Bat-Signal is located right above Gotham City's police department. In most cases, only the police have access to the signal.""So, it's only legal when it suits them?""That's one way to put it.""Have you ever seen him? Batman?""On the news, always.""Oh.""Are you interested in heroes, Miss?"The question caught me off guard. I kept looking at the signal in the sky, thoughtful. I was never really interested, honestly. In Japan, I didn't have many friends, but one of them wanted to be a hero. There was a specific school for that in Japan. I remember supporting him. I wonder if he managed to achieve his dreams."No," I replied. "Honestly, I don't think they're very different from the criminals out there... If someone commits crimes for the interests of those in power, then they're a hero. Is there any logic more hypocritical than that?""It's one way to think, Miss...""Besides, the United States doesn't even try to organize all this mess. At least Japan has a specialized school-a place to prepare people to uphold the law properly.""Still, their society isn't managing to deal with a problem they created themselves, is it?" the butler questioned."No system is perfect. At least they're trying."Trying.That's what everyone was doing, wasn't it? Trying to do something, anything, regardless of what it was.The days went by. It didn't take long for me to realize Bruce Wayne was a busy man. He was always involved in something related to Wayne Enterprises. Damian was always with him when he wasn't at school.I wasn't in school. Not yet. I think Bruce was trying to figure out the best way to get rid of my silent presence in the corners of the rooms.He didn't even look at me.So, I followed this endless cycle-bedroom, dining room, therapy session... bathroom, back to the bedroom again.I was in the car as Alfred drove toward the therapist's office when something caught my attention.There was a billboard with her face on it. They were taking it down. I searched her name in recent news. It had been almost a week since anyone published anything about her. They were forgetting her.I wish I could forget too.The car stopped in the vast parking lot. The butler opened the door, and I unbuckled my seatbelt, stepping out. I followed him to the reception desk to check in; the appointment had been scheduled a few days ago.I waited for my name to be called, watching those poor souls leaving for the gray environment outside."Alice Martha Hoshi," a voice said.It was quicker than I expected.I entered the office. It was clean, organized, with a predominance of neutral tones in its decor. The psychologist, as I noticed, strictly followed the color palette even in her clothing."Hello, Alice," she smiled. "I'm Dr. Frances Quinzel. I'll be handling your case from now on. Please feel free to sit or lie down if you prefer. Would you like some candy?""No, thank you." I lay on the couch, staring at the white ceiling.The ceiling spun. She asked questions, and I stayed silent. More questions, more silence. Silence was the only thing evenly spread in the air."We can stay quiet for as long as you want," the psychologist said calmly. "But I need you to help me help you. Why don't you talk to me?""You wouldn't understand.""How will you know if you don't tell me?""I don't want to tell you. I've already said everything I needed to the police, the psychologist, and the social worker.""Then what do you want?""I want to let this story die. Bury it and forget it. I'd be fine if I could forget everything.""But erasing everything would mean denying what happened. Denial is a common path, but it's not the best way to deal with grief."I fell silent again, staring at the ceiling as my eyes burned with hot, almost acidic tears."I heard some companies tried to contact you," she said. "I found out by chance while flipping through the newspapers. What do you think about that?""Singing?""Yes.""I like it. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember... Before, I was preparing to try debuting with some company.""Did you accept any offers?""No.""But wasn't that what you wanted?""It was.""Don't you want it anymore?""I don't know...""I think you should carefully consider the offers... Doing something you enjoy might be good for you, especially now."Especially now, in a place that doesn't belong to you, I completed mentally.The ticking of the clock became the only sound again. I sighed heavily, turning my head. My eyes drifted to the papers and pens on the table.The alarm rang.I got up, meeting the butler at the clinic entrance. Together, we returned to the car.Arriving at the mansion, I locked myself away again. I thought about what the psychologist had said.I looked at my email inbox. It wasn't hard to find; I had marked it with a bright star.But I didn't dare open it.I put my phone down, staring at the ceiling. Just me and my truth, lying in silence in this room that wasn't mine-mine had fluorescent stars painted on the ceiling, but this one held only the emptiness of a blank canvas.The phone vibrated.It was my aunt."Alice," her voice came through, accompanied by the murmur of a language I recognized as German. "I'm so sorry. I heard what happened. I'm catching a flight to Gotham.""Thank you.""It might take me some time to get a flight. I'll keep you updated. I heard you're with your biological father.""I am.""Are they treating you well?""Yes.""...Okay. That's good.""Aunt?""Yes?""Next Future Enterprises sent me a message.""Oh, that's good, isn't it? It's what you wanted.""It was.""And what did you decide?""I was hoping you could tell me," I sighed."I can't live your life for you, Alice.""I know," my voice faltered."But if I can give you some advice... I'd like you to do something for yourself, for your own sake. Something you enjoy.""I like singing and dancing.""Then sing and dance.""But it's not easy.""Nothing ever will be. But you have advantages that many don't. I'll support you in whichever path you choose," she said. "But try to decide soon. We'll have to deal with some legal matters. Legally, Bruce has rights over you, and Akira is reluctant to get involved.""Uncle Akira isn't coming?""No. But Hitoshi is leaving Japan just to see you.""He hasn't called me.""And he won't. You know how he is. He just shows up. I think that's why he and your mother got along so well.""Yeah...""I need to go," she said. "Take care of yourself. Message me if you need anything. I'll let you know when I arrive."The call ended.And once again, I found myself at rock bottom. Grief is like living a waking nightmare.Now, at night, it's just me and myself. Maybe that's all I need. I can't erase my mind and live as if nothing happened, but I wish I could pretend.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(I remember)Good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choicesThere was something happening between usI swear there was something, because I don’t remember who I wasBefore you painted all my nights with a color I’ve been chasing ever since— Question, Taylor SwiftGotham City General Hospital, November 1991."Can I ask you a question?" Thomas looked up as Bruce stormed into his office like a hurricane, dropping the bombshell in the air."No," Bruce said curtly."I’m asking anyway. How the hell did this happen?""You know how.""Yeah, we both do. Bad question." He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee before rubbing his temples. "How long have we been friends, Bruce?""Since middle school," Bruce answered firmly."And now you barge into my office, asking me to perform a C-section on your girlfriend and keep it all under wraps?""Exactly.""You bastard. What don’t I do for you?" Thomas sighed, downing the rest of his coffee in one gulp. "I’ll need a room and some equipment. Get that for me. When are we flying to Japan?""I’m not going.""Excuse me?" The doctor raised his eyebrows in disbelief."You heard me.""Bruce, it’s no secret you’re a playboy, but I didn’t think you’d be a complete jerk. This is your child being born." Thomas looked at his childhood friend, appalled."I’m providing financial support for Kira and her child. She agreed—it’s better this way. If the media finds out she had a child, it’ll ruin her career.""And yet, the child will need a father.""Kira said she’d handle that.""I don’t understand you two. This has been going on for a year and a half—why not go public? It’d make things easier and better for this child.""I offered to marry her. Kira refused.""And now you’re refusing to be present for your own child’s birth. Don’t you feel ashamed? Your father wouldn’t appro—""Don’t bring my father into this," Bruce snapped.Elliot fell silent, realizing he was about to cross a line."When do I leave?" he asked, still reluctant."In two weeks. Be ready.""I’ll be ready."•••Kyushu, June 26, 1992.Kira Hoshi couldn’t have picked a worse place to give birth. Both were in a remote, rural area. It was an old, traditional Japanese house hidden amidst vast greenery.She practiced breathing exercises she usually did before any show, counting backward as Thomas Elliot set up all the equipment on the tatami, creating an improvised operating room."Come, lie here," the doctor instructed.Kira obeyed, walking hesitantly to the table. She was pale as a ghost, sweating cold."Calm down," Thomas said, looking at the poor singer. His Japanese wasn’t the best, but he tried his hardest."Where’s Bruce? When will he get here?" she asked, fixing her gaze on the ceiling, trying not to look at the tools."Kira, he’s not coming," Thomas tried to answer neutrally, though part of him felt indignant.He carefully connected her to the monitoring equipment, setting it up to track her vitals. He then meticulously prepared his tools, giving the final touches to his makeshift surgical area."I know," she said softly. "But I thought he might change his mind.""Don’t worry," Thomas assured her. "This will be over before you know it. Everything will be fine. Now, hold still. I’m going to give you general anesthesia; you won’t feel a thing. Don’t worry if you feel drowsy—it’s a normal reaction."Kira gasped, shivering as the cold gel touched her spine before the anesthesia needle pierced between her vertebrae."Are you sure there won’t be scars? No one can find out. My producers... they’re counting on this."Her heart raced, the ceiling turned into a blur."I’ll use invisible stitches," he promised, placing a mask over her face.Once she was fully under the effects of the anesthesia, he swiftly began the surgery, clearing his mind of everything else.Thomas started the C-section, his hands steady as ever when it came to surgery. This was his calling in life. He quickly made a horizontal incision on the lower segment of her abdomen. Once the incision was complete, he carefully separated the muscles. He then cut through the layers of the uterus before finally delivering the baby.Silence.Thomas turned the baby face down and gently massaged her, giving a few light pats that awakened her. A sharp cry filled the room for a few minutes before the baby drifted back to sleep.He waited a moment before precisely cutting the baby’s umbilical cord and wrapping her in a blanket. He cleaned her up a bit before bringing her back to her mother, who was conscious but not fully coherent due to the strong anesthesia."It’s a girl. Congratulations."The small sleeping being was placed on her mother’s chest."A girl…?" Kira’s voice could barely be heard beneath the mask. She tried to move but couldn’t, merely turning her head to look."I’ll place her in the basket. I still need to finish the surgery. The anesthesia will wear off soon."He gently placed the tiny baby in a wicker basket where Kira could see her and returned to the operating table, beginning the process of delivering the placenta.Thomas removed the placenta before cleaning the uterus to remove any excess tissue. Once the uterus was clean, he began stitching it up. He then carefully closed the incision in the abdominal wall, layer by layer.When the procedure was complete, Thomas meticulously sutured the incision so it would heal properly. He knew it would take months for the scar to fully disappear. Thomas washed his hands thoroughly with soap and water after removing his gloves and discarding them."It’s done," he murmured to himself, barely acknowledging his own relief as he admired his work. His hand slid into his pocket, dialing Bruce’s number to deliver the good news and let him know mother and daughter were safe.But Bruce didn’t answer.Hours later, Kira was happily holding her daughter in her arms."Her name will be Alice," the mother said, gazing at the smiling baby. "Like in that book.""Alice in Wonderland?" he asked, deciding to keep his opinion to himself—a rare event."I like how it sounds," she murmured, stroking the little girl’s black hair. "Alice Martha. Do you think Bruce will approve?""He’ll find the combination of the two names odd," the doctor smiled. "But I imagine he’ll be touched by your thoughtfulness.""Isn’t she the most beautiful child in the world? Her eyes are so bright, like galaxies full of stars.""She looks like a wrinkled knee.""Hey!""Like every other baby," he finished, organizing the materials in the room and disposing of what was necessary."Heh… Don’t listen to him, Alice. Doctors are always a bit heartless," the singer joked.Little Alice looked at Thomas, babbling and smiling at him with her toothless grin.Thomas was supposed to leave, returning to Gotham right after Kira’s operation, but he stayed until the young singer’s postpartum recovery was complete.At first, he saw nothing special about Alice. She was just another strange, smiling baby like all the others—until the moment he had to say goodbye to her. That was when he realized he wanted her for himself."I could adopt her," he offered, trying to convince Kira. "She’d have a good life, study at the best schools. I’d take great care of her.""I want to raise her on my own," the singer said. "Be a mother and an idol. I want both.""She needs a father figure.""Alice already has Bruce.""You know Bruce; you know he won’t come."Silence fell."Do you think I should’ve married him?""I do.""But that way, I’d be sacrificing my career.""In life, some sacrifices are necessary.""It’s easy for you to say that when you’ve never had to sacrifice anything," Kira said with a bitter smile as Alice stared at Thomas with those huge sapphire eyes. "I’ll let you be her godfather," she sighed. "You can visit her whenever you want.""I will," Thomas promised, stroking the baby’s chubby cheeks as she squirmed in her mother’s arms, smiling at him.The doctor sighed, gripping the handle of his suitcase, reluctant to leave the little girl behind. Kira was a good person, but she had no sense. She was clumsy, careless—the kind of person who could lose a baby in a stroller inside her own home.Still, he left.But not for long. He returned months later that same year, and the next, and the year after that.He visited Alice at least twice a year or whenever the child needed him. A cold? He was there. A fever? He took care of it himself. Someone to show up at the Father’s Day event at school? He booked his flight in advance, always hoping to be asked, ever since the first time Alice called him to come.Thomas always asked Kira for updates on Alice when he wasn’t in Japan. He was a constant presence in her life, even from afar.That’s why it felt so strange when he saw the news of Kira’s death on TV after long hours in the operating room.His first reaction was to grab his phone, which was locked in his locker, but there were no calls from Alice.Not a single one.He looked back at the news broadcast on the TV, unwilling to believe what was happening. It was supposed to be a normal day. Kira had told him weeks ago that she was coming to spend some time in Gotham with Alice.He had already planned everything. He would finish his shift and then meet his goddaughter. He had even prepared a room in his house, hoping to convince Kira once again to give him custody of the girl.He dialed her number, but the call went straight to voicemail. As he was about to call a second time, a hand rested on his shoulder."Thomas—""Where is she?" he interrupted Bruce, quickly turning around. "Where is Alice?""She’s at the manor, safe.""I’m going to see her," he declared, quickly changing out of his scrubs into regular clothes."She needs you. Alice barely leaves her room, hardly eats, and hasn’t spoken much since she arrived.""Of course she needs me; you were never there for her," he said sharply. "You should have called me immediately."Thomas finished getting dressed and headed for the hospital parking lot without looking back. He got into the car with Bruce, the silence building like a wall between them. It was the first time they had been together without a word being spoken.As soon as the car passed through the gates of Wayne Manor, Thomas unbuckled his seatbelt, opening the door before the car had even come to a complete stop. He practically ran into Alfred as he entered the manor."Where is she?" he asked the butler."Fifth room on the right, second floor," Alfred replied.Thomas disappeared so quickly that if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t known him since childhood, they might have sworn he had teleported."Alice, where are you?" he called out as he walked down the luxuriously decorated hallway. "Open the door."He knocked his knuckles against the mahogany wood of the fifth door he found on the right. Light seeped through the cracks, and a low sob was heard, followed by the metallic click of the door unlocking."Uncle Thomas…?" The door opened slowly, revealing the girl with red eyes, a swollen face, and tear-streaked cheeks.Thomas didn’t respond, pulling her into his chest and hugging her. Alice didn’t resist; she collapsed into tears against him as he gently guided her back into the room, helping her sit on the bed.Alice sobbed and trembled against his chest while he stroked her back and hair, his heart breaking. She had always been the most cheerful child he had ever known."It’s okay," he whispered, cradling her like a baby. "It’s going to be okay." He kissed her hair. "I’m here now."He whispered those words for hours, knowing there was nothing that could heal the wound in her heart. All he could do was hold Alice as she cried and let her feel everything she needed to feel.Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms. He gently laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with blankets and checking her temperature as he silently promised himself he would take care of her.He would do everything in his power to make Alice happy, even if it meant cutting ties with Bruce and fighting for custody of her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Dear reader, burn all the filesAbandon all your past livesAnd if you don’t recognize yourselfIt means you did it right— Dear Reader, Taylor SwiftOne of the things I learned from watching my mother survive in the entertainment world is that if a question feels like a trap, then it is. And from the moment it's asked, if you don’t know how to navigate it, you’ve already fallen into it."Are you feeling better, Alice?" I awoke to the voice of a stranger.Bruce Wayne was sitting in an armchair, about a meter away from my bed."Where’s Uncle Thomas?" I asked, sitting up in bed and flipping the tear-dampened pillow upside down."He left shortly after you fell asleep. He said he’d return for the meeting.""Meeting?" I questioned, staring at the pale bedsheet."Your mother’s managers scheduled a meeting with me to decide your future and what to do about the canceled show. It was the second-to-last of the tour, but many fans are upset and are suing the company, demanding refunds. Of course, you don’t need to worry about any of this. You don’t have to attend the meeting.""I’ll go.""I’d prefer if you didn’t, for your own good.""And I’d prefer if you stopped acting like the father you’re not, for your own good," I finally looked him in the eyes.Blue.Mom always talked about my eyes. She said my father’s were blue too, although ours weren’t identical.I remember standing in front of the mirror when I was younger, getting ready for school, wondering:"Do I look like him?"But now, facing him, all I see is a stranger. I don’t recognize even the smallest feature. Shouldn’t that bring some kind of relief?"You had fifteen years to care about me." I took a deep breath and looked away. "I’m too old to play house, so stop pretending you care. Someone who truly cared would’ve been there every time I needed them, not just now because you’re legally obligated to keep me."The armchair scraped against the floor, and the wooden door clicked softly shut. I sighed deeply, closing my eyes. Minutes later, I was on my feet. There were clothes in my size in the wardrobe. I grabbed a dark blue dress and put it on. Then I sat in front of the vanity, noticing some of my belongings neatly arranged there.I combed my dark hair, pulling two thick strands from the top and tying them into pigtails with red velvet ribbons, adding a clip with three silver stars. A soft makeup touch, pink blush on my cheeks, and I was ready to go downstairs.Another thing I learned from watching my mom navigate the entertainment world as I grew up is that no one listens to the words of someone who’s visibly falling apart.When I left my room, Uncle Tommy was standing there, hand raised, about to knock."I was just coming to get you," he said gently as I exited, closing the door behind me. "You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.""I want to," I murmured, walking down the long corridor beside him."Who’s downstairs?""Your mom’s managers and your father.""He’s not my father.""Biologically, there’s not much to do about that.""And legally?" I stopped, looking at him. "Could I sue him for neglect? You’re more of a father to me than he could ever be. Please, Uncle Tommy, I don’t want to stay here. Take me with you. I’d rather have my mom’s managers take custody than stay here.""You know I’d love to take custody of you," he whispered, holding my hands. "But the law isn’t that simple. You’ll have to be patient and wait a little."I nodded reluctantly, stopping at the staircase at the end of the hallway."Don’t worry, I won’t give up on you," he whispered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, trying to instill a sense of security.When we entered the living room, Bruce and my ‘uncles’—my mom’s managers—were already gathered there. Akira and Ayumi Minamoto.Under Japanese law, they were my legal guardians. After all, my mom had revealed late in life that I was her daughter, and they had registered me from the beginning.Ayumi had wanted to be a model in her youth. She participated in some fashion shows and beauty contests but never found much success. She met Akira at one of those contests, married him shortly after, and became a manager alongside him."Manager," she used to say that he called her that as a substitute for nanny. She was the one who looked after me when Mom was busy, and she was busy more often than anyone would like.Ayumi wasn’t a bad person, but she resented not achieving what she wanted in life. I could understand that.Akira, on the other hand, was an old, grumpy, and demanding man. If not for my mom, he would’ve had me shooting commercials right after I was born."I thought you weren’t coming," Akira said as soon as he saw me, sitting beside Uncle Tommy on the couch."Well, someone has to solve the problem, don’t they? We’re facing the biggest crisis this group has ever seen since it started. Fans are outraged. I warned your mother that revealing the whole truth to the public was a bad idea.""Akira, this isn’t the time," Ayumi scolded him. "We need to decide what to do. There was still one last show to perform here in Gotham, and people are starting to threaten lawsuits.""I have excellent lawyers; they can handle it," Bruce quickly offered."That wouldn’t solve the problem with the haters and fan frustration.""This is Gotham. They’ll forget once the next crime makes the headlines," Tommy argued."The fans in Gotham might forget, but international fans won’t. Our marketing and conflict mediation team can’t handle the sheer volume of attacks we’re receiving," Ayumi retorted."What if the show goes on anyway?" Akira suggested. "There was only one left, after all.""And who would replace Kira?" Ayumi asked. I felt his eyes on me."That’s out of the question," Bruce and Tommy said in unison."Putting Alice on stage would be like serving her on a platter under a spotlight for criminals. The person responsible for Kira’s death is still walking free," Bruce argued."Besides, you’re not considering Alice’s well-being. She just lost her mother.""You do realize you’re talking as if the girl isn’t right here?" the music producer said, leaning back against the sofa while looking at me. "I’ve seen her dance and sing. Being an idol is her dream. Where you see problems, I see an opportunity.""I assure you, Alice can pursue her dream whenever she wants. I could invest in it myself," Bruce said."We don’t doubt you could invest in her," Ayumi interjected. "But Akira is right in one aspect... This is Alice’s dream. She’s already at the age when most girls debut in a company, yet she hasn’t debuted in any. It’s a chance to showcase her talent on stage and attract attention from other companies.""She’s not psychologically ready for this," Tommy said, stroking my hands."The only one who can say that is her," Akira argued. "So, girl, what will it be? Do you think you can replace your mother on stage for one night?"All eyes in the room turned to me. The air felt heavy, warm, and suffocating."It’s just one night," my voice came out softer than I intended. "I know the choreography by heart.""Then it’s settled!" Akira said, a satisfied smile on his face."I’ll hire a security team to reinforce her protection," Bruce said coldly.I simply nodded silently and left the room. The show was in a week. I needed to be ready.•••I remember.The first time I saw someone dance as if they were floating. It was November, and my mom and her producers had no one to leave me with, so they took me to the studio.Pink, blue, yellow, red... Purple.So many colors danced through the air as my mom performed on stage with her group.At the end of the day, I told her that when I grew up, I wanted to be an idol like her. Mom smiled, ruffling my hair."The entertainment world isn’t as wonderful as it seems, Alice. Are you sure this is what you want?"Those were the same words. The exact same words the producers used in the living room. Back then, I didn’t know how to answer; I had no real grasp of what the entertainment world truly was. But now...If I could go back in time, I’d tell my mom: "You named me Alice, hoping I’d find a wonderland one day. If I can’t find it, I’ll create it myself. White roses turn red if I paint them.""To be the perfect idol, your lies must be convincing," Akira said, watching me rehearse in front of the mirror in one of the mansion's rooms. "You’re a talented girl, but talent alone won’t get you anywhere. Listen to someone with more experience in the market. Your mother would’ve remained a nobody if she hadn’t found me.""Stomach in, head up, smile for the fans. And five, six, seven, eight. Again, Alice. Dance, don’t stop smiling, sing as if you had no lungs. From the moment you step on stage, forget your humanity. You’re a goddess, and you need the fans to believe it," he continued.In less than three days, I was destroyed. Every inch of my body ached, and I prayed silently that the butler wouldn’t notice the excessive number of painkiller wrappers hidden among the makeup on my vanity.When the day of the show finally arrived, my legs trembled. Uncle Tommy thought it was nerves."I’ll be in the front row," he promised.I looked at myself in the dressing room mirror one last time before standing to follow the other singers in the group.But all I saw was her.We looked so alike, more than ever."Don’t cry," Ayumi murmured. "You’ll smudge your makeup; we don’t have time for retouching." She guided me away from the mirror, toward the hallway where the other singers were lined up. "Ah, it’s perfect! If it weren’t for your eye color, you’d be indistinguishable.""Smile, Alice, don’t forget," Akira said as I took my place behind my mom’s former group members.The lights snapped on, illuminating the stage. The music started, and we all began to dance, each in our spot.I fixed a smile on my lips as my body moved through the choreography almost mechanically. I didn’t hear the music in my earphones, just a metallic, unsettling hum. The audience in front of me was a blur of lights and shadows.I only realized the show had ended when one of the singers began the final acknowledgments. The music stopped, the lights clicked off one by one, and the platform we were standing on began descending into the underground.I took a deep breath, following the colorful blurs through the hallway toward what I assumed was the dressing room, but my legs betrayed me before I could reach my destination.I felt an embrace surround me as the world darkened, under the familiar scent of antiseptic alcohol and hand sanitizer."Alice... Alice... Alice..."The voice echoed distantly as I fell into the darkness.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Circuit Breakers of Industry and Soul DeconstructorsAnd smooth-talking charlatans running over each otherAnd the voices that plead: You should be doing moreTo you, I can admit that I’m too soft for all of this.— Sweet Nothing, Taylor SwiftThe Smell of HomeFor some, it’s the aroma of fresh coffee or a warm cake just out of the oven. For me, it’s antiseptic alcohol and disinfectant gel, with subtle notes of woody perfume, hints of cedar and vetiver—discreet yet striking.Added to that was a faint scent of leather—perhaps from gloves or a briefcase, though I could never quite tell which—and a metallic undertone evoking surgical instruments.That was the smell I associated with "home," even though I only truly went home twice a year, a bit more if I got lucky.Uncle Tommy sometimes forgot his medical coat when he came to visit me, and I’d always wear it until his scent faded. Mom found it amusing, thinking maybe I wanted to be a doctor like him, but I only did it out of longing.I wanted to be like her.One of my greatest childhood wishes was for the two of them to get married. They got along so well—why couldn’t they? In my childish reasoning, that would solve all our problems, and I could spend more time with both of them. But Mom had other plans; she was always dating someone new.The only one I really met was Hikaru—a Japanese singer and actor Mom got involved with. He was the only one she brought home to introduce to me, her longest relationship.I had nothing against him, but he wasn’t Uncle Tommy, so I didn’t have anything for him either.“Alice?” A distant voice called me again, this time closer.My eyes felt heavy, my entire body like lead. I curled up, taking a deep breath.“She’s waking up,” the same voice said.When I opened my eyes, I saw it was my uncle. He was carrying me in his arms, cradling me like a baby. There were a few people around, but everything was still dark.“You fainted. We’re going to the hospital. Try to stay awake,” he said softly, carrying me to what seemed to be a car.Like a doll, I was placed in the back seat, where he fastened my seatbelt. He sat beside me while Bruce drove up front. I closed my eyes, breathing in the cool breeze that came through the crack in the window.It didn’t take long to reach the hospital—or perhaps it did, and my perception of time was just off. I only remembered being carried from one place to another until I finally woke up in a hospital room. There was an IV in my left arm, dripping a liquid I didn’t recognize. Uncle Tommy was examining me.“What happened?” I murmured, still groggy, noticing a mask on my face.“Respiratory depression,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me. “Apparently, someone here has been self-medicating without consulting a doctor and took more painkillers than they should.”“I was in pain from rehearsals.”“You should have told me.”“They’re just painkillers.”“The painkillers you were taking were opioids. You almost died, Alice. You were lucky; you could’ve gone into cardiac arrest.”“I’m sorry.”“Just don’t do it again.”“Will I be okay?”“That’s for the test results to determine. How long have you been taking those painkillers?”“I don’t know.”“Alice...”“A few weeks, probably. I started just before the tour because my body ached at the end of the day after all the rehearsing and dancing. But then I got used to it, and it stopped hurting...” I explained. “But I started taking them again this last week because of the show.”Uncle Tommy made that neutral expression typical of doctors when they were about to give bad news.“Am I going to be okay?”“We’ll need to do some tests.”“Uncle...”“Yes, you will. Everything will be fine. We’ll detox your blood and run more tests.”“Alright.”“Alice. Don’t do that again.”“Yes, sir.”“As for Akira and Ayumi Minamoto, they’re not going to keep your custody after this. Bruce filed a case against them, and they’re being investigated.”“Why? They were just trying to help.”“Helping by pressuring a 15-year-old girl who just lost her mother to rehearse until her body gave out and to get on stage? No responsible person would do that. Bruce and I supported it because you insisted, but you’re a child, even if you think you’re so mature. They, as adults, should’ve seen that and not pushed you to your limits.”“So, am I staying with you?”“No. You’ll stay with Bruce for now. It’s better than being with those people. I’ll try to come to an agreement with him so we don’t have to take this to court.”Shortly after, he had to leave for another case, and I was left alone. There was no sign of Bruce or the butler, but my belongings were nearby.I reached for the phone on the table beside me. The device lagged under the flood of messages and notifications.One of the cardinal rules of being a public figure is never, under any circumstances, go on social media.Have social media, sure, but let a team handle it for you. Never read or respond to comments, and never search for yourself online.The greatest luxury you can afford in the entertainment world is your mental sanity.Despite hearing this rule countless times, it was the first one I broke as soon as I was alone with the phone in my hand.The barrage of notifications hit me like a punch. Comments, mentions, and direct messages—each worse than the last. I scrolled, numb at first, but soon the content of the messages started to seep in, like poison."You only know how to smile and pretend. It’s all fake, just like you.""Idol? You’re just a plastic doll with no real talent.""How dare you pretend to be innocent? We all know your life offstage is a mess.""Fake smile, fake life, fake career. I don’t know how people still tolerate you.""You should quit this life and disappear. No one will remember you in a year.""They should stop wasting so much time promoting someone as charisma-less as you.""We know you only got where you are by stepping over others.""No one cares about your music or acting. We only watch to laugh at the disaster your career has become.""Artificial.""Talentless.""A nepo baby taking advantage of your parents' fortune and your mother’s death while playing pretend as an Idol.""Completely untalented. You shouldn’t even be alive.""Finally, your body gave out, huh? Must’ve been from all that pretending to be a real artist. Shame you didn’t faint for good.""Did she actually faint? At least something interesting finally happened in her pathetic career.""You’re only in this industry because your mother was famous.""You fainted just to get attention, didn’t you? Drama is the only thing you know how to do. Pathetic.""I hope they learn their lesson and stop giving you space. You have nothing left to offer but scandal."I wanted to stop reading, but I couldn’t. My finger kept scrolling down the screen, each comment a new stab, each word more corrosive than the last. It felt like the whole world had decided to gang up on me, reducing me to less than nothing.Deep down, I knew I shouldn’t be reading this. But a part of me, maybe the fragile part, believed every word.It wasn’t fair. I spent hours in front of the mirror, rehearsing smiles and moves. Turning myself into a professional liar to charm the media and the public.I could dance all night with glass shards in my heels, and when I fell, I’d still be smiling.And they wouldn’t even acknowledge my effort.I stared at my phone in silence, each word I read making me feel smaller. My fingers trembled, but not enough to stop me from scrolling.A notification sound broke the moment. It was a video call. The name on the screen read “Ice Prince.”Hesitant, I answered."Alice." I heard his calm, firm voice.I tried to force a smile as I looked at his heterochromatic eyes, but my red, swollen eyes probably gave me away."Hey, Shoto. How are you?""Let’s not start with that. I know what happened."I looked away, biting my lip as I felt my eyes burn."You don’t have to pretend with me. Not now.""I’m fine," I muttered softly."No, you’re not. And that’s okay. You just went through something that would push anyone to their limit."I closed my eyes, holding back tears."I just... I just wanted to be good enough. For my mom, for the audience, for everyone.""Alice, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone," he said gently. "Not to me, not to your mom, and certainly not to people hiding behind a screen.""What if they’re right? What if I really have no talent and—""No. You are talented, hardworking, and incredibly strong. And you know how I know that? Because you’re still here. Even after everything you’ve faced, you stepped on that stage, and that’s already a victory.""Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it," I whispered.He was silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words."Stars don’t shine for anyone’s sake. They’re just there, fulfilling their role in the vast celestial system. But it’s their light that enchants souls and inspires the deepest wishes of the heart," he said suddenly."Huh...?" I murmured, confused, wiping my tears. "Where did that come from?""Forget it… What I mean is, the only voices that truly matter are those of the people who love and believe in you. You have people who care, Alice. Uncle Tommy, maybe Mr. Wayne... Me. And we see you for who you really are. Everyone calling you talentless is just noise in the crowd. Most people around you see and believe in your light.""Shoto..." I felt my eyes well up again."But you shouldn’t shine for others; you should shine for yourself," he continued. "It took me a while to realize that. Just like my power is mine alone, your light is yours. I’m not my father, and you’re not your mother, nor do you have to try to be.""When did you get so good at giving advice?" I smiled, drying my tears."A friend from U.A. Meeting him changed a lot for me.""I see," I smiled."You know, you don’t have to face this alone. Whenever the voices get too loud, call me. I’ll be here, even if it’s just to listen.""Thank you, Shoto.""You don’t need to thank me," he said with a light smile. "You’re my friend, and friends take care of each other.""I’ll try... to get better," I said more firmly."One step at a time. And please, promise me one thing.""What?""The next time you feel overwhelmed, ask for help before this happens again."I hesitated but eventually nodded."I promise.""Good," he said softly. "Now rest, Alice.""Hero, model, therapist... The list of careers you could pursue just keeps growing," I joked. "If being a hero doesn’t work out, we could be an Idol duo.""I can’t be an Idol. If I smile, people might die.""Huh...? What do you mean?""Long story. I need to get ready for class.""Good luck!" I smiled. "Do your best.""You too. I’ll be watching your performances, even from afar.""Alright. Good morning, Shoto," I said with a small smile."Good night."••• When Alice was having tea with the Mad Hatter, she noticed there was no jam. She asked for some, and he replied:"Jam is served every other day."Alice complained:"But there wasn’t any jam yesterday either.""Exactly," said the Mad Hatter. "The rule is this: jam always yesterday and tomorrow, never today. Because today is neither yesterday nor tomorrow. And that’s how you’re living. Jam yesterday, jam tomorrow, but never jam today. That’s where the jam is. It’s in your imagination. You live in a dazed and sleepy state. You’ve forgotten that this moment is the only real moment. If you want any contact with reality, wake up here and now.""That doesn’t make sense," Damian grumbled, dropping Kira’s journal onto the table. "It’s been weeks, and we still don’t have a single lead.""We’ll keep looking," Bruce said, picking up the journal. "Where was this loose page?""On the day she died.""She loved books too much; she’d never tear out a page from one of her favorite books, even to put it in her journal. Scan the fingerprints on this page. See if you find anything. Tim, did you find anything suspicious on her social media?""Nothing except her terrible taste in men.""Keep looking; there must be something to indicate who the killer is if they knew each other. Alfred, check with Thomas on Alice’s current condition. Ask if she’s well enough to return home.""Right away, Master Bruce," the butler said before pausing. "You’re receiving a call from Master Jason.""Jason?" Tim and Damian exchanged curious looks.Jason Todd rarely got in touch, at least not directly with Bruce.He picked up the phone, putting it on speaker."I’m listening.""A little blue bird told me the family’s grown. Looks like Batman hasn’t been protecting himself with the cape," Red Hood’s voice, distorted by his helmet, rang out mockingly."And then he complains when I ask him to use protection before engaging in libidinous acts," Damian agreed."Maybe Selina’s next," Tim suggested."Boys, this isn’t the time. What do you want, Jason?""I’m a little upset that I was the last to find out about your little secret, but I have something you’ll want. Answer the video call."Tim pressed the button, and the video call appeared on the large screen of the Batcomputer, showing Red Hood in an old, poorly lit warehouse. He stepped back from the camera, revealing a man tied to a wooden chair.The man was tall, pale, with deep dark circles under his eyes, a shaved head, several scars on his face, and fresh bruises. He wore a tattered vest."I found this guy climbing the General Hospital of Gotham’s building. He was trying to get into Alice’s room."With a punch, Red Hood nearly knocked the man’s head sideways. He groaned in pain, blood dripping onto the floor."Any useful information?" Bruce asked.Jason pulled a piece of paper from his jacket."Loose pages from a children’s book. And a broken pocket watch.""What book?""Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.""Finally, we have a pattern," Tim said."Has he talked yet?" Damian intervened."Not yet, but he will," Red Hood said, removing the red helmet, leaving only the domino mask, and tossing the helmet to the floor. One of his hands moved down to draw a gun from its holster."Choose a god and start praying."•••"You’re going to be fine." Uncle Tommy entered the room, this time without the neutral mask all doctors wore when delivering news. "Your tests show there was mild intoxication, but no liver or kidney failure. You won’t need any organ transplants.""I was at risk of all that?""The human body is full of surprises, as you can see," he said, pulling up a stool and sitting beside the bed. "You were lucky this time. I hope I don’t have to see you here again for the same reason.""I won’t come back.""Or for worse reasons," he added. "I don’t want you to be as reckless as your father.""Reckless?" I raised my eyebrows curiously."He’s always driving drunk and crashing his car. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve personally handled his cases. I made him promise that you’d never be in the car with him after he’s been drinking.""By the way, where is he now?""Still working.""What does he do for work?""I’m not entirely sure. Wayne Enterprises’ shares are public, and he has a trusted CEO in charge. I imagine he’s busy with a lot of important meetings.""Or a lot of one-night stands. He’s never home at night.""You two haven’t interacted much, have you?"I simply shook my head."He tried to get close, but I pushed him away. I’m angry at him.""So am I. And I don’t like the idea of leaving your custody in his hands. But… try to give him a chance.""He’s had fifteen years.""Even so, it’ll take a few months before I can get your custody. Give him those months. Better yet, use these months for yourself. What happened would have a big emotional impact on anyone. You need time for yourself, and maybe, while taking care of yourself, you might want to get to know your father and the family you didn’t even know you had. Just… think about it, okay?"I nodded silently."Great! Your vitals are good, so you can continue recovering at home.""Are you taking me home?""No, I still have work to do here. Bruce said one of your brothers is coming to pick you up.""How many brothers do I have exactly?""By my count? Four. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. You also have a sister, Cassandra, if I’m remembering correctly, but I don’t see her much.""All adopted?""Yes.""If he adopted so many kids, why didn’t he want to stay with me, his biological daughter?""That’s a question only he can answer. Try talking to him someday. You must have a lot of questions, especially now. Maybe he can clarify some things."As I processed the information, the silence in the room was broken by the sound of firm footsteps approaching in the hallway. I looked at the door and saw a tall man with messy black hair entering, a warm smile on his face."So, you’re Alice," he said, stopping beside the bed and crossing his arms casually. "I guess you could say I’m your older brother if you’re comfortable with that."He looked very different from what I had imagined. He had a light, easygoing energy, almost as if it were impossible to feel nervous around him."Well, that’s my cue to leave," Thomas said, exiting the room after giving Dick a slight nod."My uncle said you’re here to take me home.""Exactly. Bruce is in the middle of something important, and the others are busy, so I got the job. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safely. Plus, I thought this would be a good chance for us to get to know each other."I nodded silently as Dick grabbed the bag with my belongings, helping me carefully get out of bed."Are you feeling well enough to walk?" he asked, his tone genuinely concerned."Yes, I think so."He watched me for a moment, assessing, before grabbing the coat hanging on a chair and placing it over my shoulders."Great. Let’s take it slow. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get the rest and space you need."We walked together to the car, where he opened the passenger door for me and waited patiently as I settled in."You know, Alice," Dick said as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine, "our family isn’t exactly the definition of normal. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that we’re incredibly loyal to each other. You don’t have to go through all this alone, okay?"His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I felt a twinge of relief. Maybe, despite everything, I wasn’t as alone as I thought."Thank you," I murmured, looking out the window as the car began to move.Dick shot me a warm smile before focusing on the road."You’re welcome. And, by the way, you’re going to love meeting the rest of the gang. They’re a little crazy, but deep down, they all have huge hearts."I didn’t know what to expect from my new "family," but somehow, Dick’s demeanor made it all feel less intimidating.I’d always been an only child. Maybe having siblings would make life a bit lighter. Maybe my stay in Gotham wouldn’t be so bad after all.