at six years old, although quite 'sassy', hitari had no idea what it meant to be unwanted. she knew only that her parents had packed her up in the middle of the night, handing her over to a woman in a cold, gray uniform who said she would take her to a "special place"—a school for "girls like her." hitari had never heard those words before, but they didn’t seem to matter. she clung to her favorite stuffed doll as they drove away from her small home.
the journey was long, and when the car finally stopped, hitari didn’t recognize the place she had arrived at. it was an old, imposing building with brick walls that stretched to the sky, casting long shadows even in the daylight. there were no flowers, no laughter, only the distant sounds of doors slamming and a cold wind that made her shiver.
the woman ushered her inside, and as they passed through the tall, locked gates, hitari couldn’t help but feel like she was walking into a cage.
the boarding school was everything she had feared and more. the other girls were older, and they didn’t seem to care for her. the teachers were stern, cold, and aggressive, their faces tight and unyielding. the girls her age—those that weren't outright cruel—ignored her, as if she didn’t exist.
at lunch, hitari would sit alone at a table in the corner, carefully pulling apart her sandwich, not even hungry for it. she would hear whispers from the other girls—laughter sometimes, other times cruel jokes. they would call her strange for talking to her doll, the stuffie she had carried with her since her arrival. they didn’t understand how the pretty girl with mismatched eyes just like her own kept her company when no one else would.
as the days turned into months, hitari realized that there was no kindness here, no warmth. she was just another body in a sea of cold faces. she stopped trying to make friends. when the other girls would push her out of their way in the hall, she would retreat to the small room they had given her. she would curl up in her bed with the same stuffed doll that had been her only warmth, and wait for the day to end, hoping it would be better tomorrow. but it never was.
at eight years old, hitari found the world around her overwhelming and cold, especially in the boarding school where she had been sent. the walls were high, the halls were long, and the voices of the other children always seemed to echo with mockery. but there was one small thing that made the school bearable for her: her favorite doll. 'liri'.
liri was old and worn, her stitching faded from years of being hugged too tightly, and one of her mismatched button eyes had long since fallen off. but to hitari, she was more than just a stuffed animal. she was her comfort, her safe place in a world that was often confusing and unkind. she carried her everywhere—through the cold, gray hallways, to class, and even to the dining hall where she only ever ate alone.
but one morning, as hitari clutched liri in her arms, she felt a cold chill settle over her. she had just walked into her classroom, her eyes already scanning the room for a place to sit when miss ackley, one of the teachers, walked over. miss ackley was tall and stern, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose like an unspoken warning. she was feared, and had no initiative not to lock you in the cupboard if she was having a bad day. hitari was always careful around her, but today, something was different.
"mai," miss acklet said in her sharp, no-nonsense voice. "you can't bring that bear into class anymore."
hitari froze, her heart skipping a beat. she had never been told that she couldn't bring liri to class before. she had been with her through every lesson, silently comforting her in the quiet moments, and the nasty remarks from the other children. "but... but she's my doll," hitari said softly, her voice trembling. "i always bring her. she's… she’s my friend."
miss ackley's expression hardened. “you’re in class now, mai. you’re too old for childish toys. don't be pathetic and put her away.”
hitari felt her throat tighten as she looked down at liri, fingers curling around her. she had never been anything but a source of comfort, a small piece of normality in a place that often felt so big and so foreign to her. but in that moment, she felt like something that hitari was being told she had to let go of.
“i can’t…” hitari whispered, clutching liri even tighter. "she's.. my only friend. please miss-"
miss ackleys’s patience was thin. she reached forward and snatched liri from hitari’s arms without hesitation. "no arguing. you’re not a baby anymore. do you think jesus needed a silly doll to live each day?" she began ranting as she held the doll out of hitari’s reach, and hitari felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at her, helpless.
"please..." hitari's voice cracked, but miss ackley was unmoved.
“you’ll get it back at the end of the day. but i don’t want to see it in here again. understand?” her tone left no room for negotiation.
with that, she walked away, taking liri with her.
hitari stood there, her heart aching, as she watched her teacher disappear with the doll. the classroom felt emptier, colder, without the small, comforting presence of liri. her fingers instinctively reached for her, but there was nothing to hold. she wanted to cry, but she knew she couldn’t. not here. not in front of everyone. not when she could already feel her classmates eyes on her, not when she could hear them snickering.
for the rest of the morning, hitari sat in her desk, trying to focus on the lessons, but all she could think about was the bear that was now locked away somewhere, far from her reach. she tried to remember all the times that liri had been there for her—through the lonely nights, through the tears when no one else cared. and now, she was gone.
when the loud, church bell rang at the end of the day, hitari was the first to hurry to the front of the classroom. miss ackley, however, didn't seem in a hurry to give back liri. she took her time, sorting through papers and ignoring hitari’s anxious glances.
finally, after what felt like forever, miss ackley stood up and reached towards the cabinet behind her. she pulled out liri roughly, and held her above hitari. but as she looked down, the teacher stared at her with a sharp, almost amused smile.
“i’m afraid i’ve made a decision,” miss ackley said, her voice colder than before. “you’re too old for that stupid doll. i’ve decided to keep it. it’s time to grow up, mai.”
hitari's chest tightened. she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. she had to get liri back. she couldn’t sleep in this cursed place without her.
"but... you promised," hitari protested, her voice trembling. “you said you’d give her back.”
miss ackley’s eyes narrowed. “i said you’d get him back at the end of the day, and i’ve decided he stays with me. you’ll learn to manage without him.”
a wave of panic washed over hitari. her pulse raced as she stood motionless, clutching her bag to her chest. she forced herself to walk calmly out of the classroom, her face expressionless. as soon as she was out of the door, she rushed down the hall back to her doom room, her breath quickening and her eyes tearing up.
by the time hitari was ten, she had learned to make herself invisible. she would walk down the hall with her eyes cast downward, hoping no one would speak to her - knowing that if they did, it would only be to cut through her with sharp, cruel words.
the teachers never noticed her; the other students rarely did. and when they did, it was to pick on her. they would call her names, taunt her for being different, for being so quiet. she couldn’t fit in, not here, not anywhere.
when hitari turned twelve, something inside her began to shift. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly happy. she thought of her old home, of the garden her mother used to tend, of the soft scent of jasmine in the air. but those memories felt like they belonged to someone else, someone long gone. the girl she was now no longer cried herself to sleep. she no longer tried to fit in. she was simply… there. the quiet girl who was constantly wondering why her parents would put her here.
at fifteen, hitari had become a shadow in the halls of the boarding school. she moved through life without being noticed, living day after day without anyone truly seeing her. her classmates had long since learned to ignore her, and the teachers hardly acknowledged her existence. hitari was a ghost in a place built for the living.
but one day, something inside her snapped.
it was an ordinary afternoon, coming up to her sixteenth birthday, when she heard the other girls laughing again, this time about a new rumor they had heard about her. she had overheard one of the teachers say that she was “too strange to ever fit in, not that anyone would want the likes of her to fit in next to them anyway.” something inside her stirred—anger, hurt, confusion—all mixed into one.
she walked out of the dining hall, her heart pounding, her fists clenched. she went to the courtyard, where the walls were high, and no one could see her. and there, under the shadow of the ancient oak tree, hitari stood still. she didn’t cry, didn’t shout. she simply closed her eyes and let the wind blow through her hair, feeling a spark of something—a tiny, flickering light that had long been buried deep inside her.
"i’m not fucking invisible," she whispered to herself, though no one was around to hear. "i just don’t belong here, and i never will."
hitari didn’t know how it happened, but from that day forward, something changed. she still didn’t speak to anyone. she still didn’t join the girls for lunch or try to make friends. but she began to stand a little taller, her shoulders less hunched. she still spent her time in her room, missing liri, but she no longer felt as though she was waiting for something to change. she had changed.
and as she stood there, feeling the cool breeze and the weight of the world fall away, she realized that she had no need for their approval. she would leave this place one day, and when she did, it would be on her own terms. they could never take away her quiet strength, the one thing she had left after all these years.
she was still a ghost to them, but hitari was learning to be seen in her own way. and that, she decided, was enough.