Tales of MidnightEpisode 1: The Girl Who Couldn't Delete Her Past🌘 I. THE DOOR THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST
Mika Tazaki had passed the same alley on her way home from cram school at least fifty times. The row of vending machines buzzed faintly beneath the hum of neon lights, and the cracked pavement smelled of old rain and half-spilled soda.
Tonight, there was a door.
A black sliding door inlaid with hand-carved woodwork, faintly smoking at the edges as if it didn't fully belong. Above it hung a wind chime—though no wind moved. A paper lantern glowed with calligraphy she couldn't read. She blinked. It wasn't there a second ago.
Her phone buzzed."You're that girl, right?"The DM had no name. No icon. She threw her phone in her pocket and looked at the door again.
It opened before she knocked.
"You've been standing there long enough to be invited," said a woman's voice—rich, smoky, and amused.
🌑 II. MISTRESS INA
The room was impossible.
Inside was a shop—a cramped, bodega-style space, with shelves stacked unevenly with everything from tea tins and dried herbs to forgotten keychains and dusty masks. The scent of incense curled in the air like a question without an answer.
Sitting behind a bar counter made of old library wood was a woman—long black hair, red lacquered nails, and eyes like black mirrors.
She sipped from a delicate porcelain cup.
"You're not here because you're curious," she said without looking up."You're here because your past is too heavy to carry anymore."
Mika's heart sank. "I... I don't know what you mean."
The woman raised a brow, then reached under the counter and placed a glass tablet on the surface.The screen lit up. A video played.
Her.Sobbing. Screaming. Humiliated. That stream. The one that ruined her.
Mika froze.
"I can make it disappear," Mistress Ina said softly. "Not just the video. The memories. All traces of it. Gone. Forever."
Mika blinked, her eyes burning.
"What's the catch?"
The woman smiled. Not kindly. Not cruelly. Just knowingly.
"You won't exist the same way after. You will have no 'past' to reference. To anyone who remembers you—if they remember you—you'll feel… distant. A version they can't place."
"So I get to be someone new?"
"You get to be someone forgotten. There's a difference."
🌒 III. THE CHARCOAL TALISMAN
Mistress Ina placed something on the counter. A small charm wrapped in black twine and sealed with a wax kanji Mika couldn't read.
"Burn it under the moon. At exactly midnight. Do not look in any mirrors afterward. Do not speak your full name aloud for seven days."
"That's it?"
"That's all."
Mika took it with trembling hands and left without another word.
Behind her, the wind chime finally sang.
🕯️ IV. ERASURE
She followed the instructions perfectly.
The charm hissed in the flame like a dying breath. Smoke wrapped around her, curling tight like fingers. For a moment, everything went still. The moon blinked out behind a cloud.
Then she felt it.
Like the world had shifted sideways.
She woke the next morning to silence.
No texts.No notifications.Her name no longer autofilled in search engines.
Her old classmates… looked at her blankly. A teacher mispronounced her name.
Even her mother, at breakfast, paused and frowned.
"You're… my niece's daughter, right? Remind me again… what's your name?"
Mika's mouth opened but the sound didn't come out.
She was still here.But less.
And it only got worse. Her reflection started… lagging. Her shadow sometimes didn't show up at all.
By day three, she couldn't remember her own childhood. By day five, she stopped dreaming.
🕯️ V. THE JAR LABELED "ALMOSTS"
Back in the shop, Mistress Ina stirred a pot of crimson liquid with a tiny silver spoon. Her cat, Yozora, sat atop a stack of old spellbooks, watching her with slow blinks.
She opened a drawer behind the counter and placed a small paper doll inside a glass jar. Written on the tag:MIKA T. – ALMOST WHOLE.
"She wanted to erase a moment," Mistress Ina murmured."But all moments grow from others. Remove one root, and the entire tree goes soft."
She sipped her tea again.
The chime rang softly.
Another customer would come. They always did.
🌌 End of Episode 1 — Next: One Hour Before Regret