Chapter Text
Mizore Hoshi loved stories for as long as she could remember, tales where hope triumphed over despair and where even a timid girl like her could be important and brave. But her life had been nothing like the stories she loved—it had bad beginnings, yet there seemed to be no adventure, no heroics, and no happy ending in sight.
Now that she was 22 years old, she thought it was much too late. She had grown up much too fast.
Nothing seemed to change, until one unsuspecting day that started out feeling as bleak as ever.
It was sleeting that day—Mizore’s least favorite kind of weather, even though her name was Japanese for sleet. Mizore hated her name. It was foreign, weird, and hard to pronounce. It was pronounced “Mee-zoe-reh,” but everyone would either keep the “E” at the end silent, or pronounce her name like Missouri, or even misery.
The day Mizore had at her community college was also miserable.
On this cold and dreary day, she slipped on slush and tumbled into a muddy puddle while walking to campus.
She got back a failed algebra test, and got lectured at by the strict teacher. Why didn’t numbers make sense to her? Mizore felt like a failure who couldn’t understand basic things.
For lunch, the cafeteria served icky green casserole with old expired milk. Mizore bit her tongue, and accidentally spilled her milk in her casserole. She tried to eat it anyway, but the taste made her gag. She had to throw everything away having only taken two bites.
In gym class, Mizore had to run laps in the freezing rain. She was so hungry, her head was spinning, and she felt exhausted.
In language class, students kept picking on her, throwing paper balls and thumbtacks at her behind her back. When Mizore asked them to stop, they laughed at her.
“Why can’t I be brave?” Mizore thought, tears in her eyes. “Why can’t I stand up to them?”
After class, the strict teacher saw the mess on the floor, and assumed Mizore made it. She opened up one of the crumpled pieces of paper. Mizore’s heart sank as she read what was written on it. The bullies had written awful insults about Mizore’s ethnicity and learning disability.
“What is this?” The teacher asked Mizore, shoving the paper in her face. “Did you write these horrible words?”
Mizore shook her head, but tears were running down her face.
“I… I didn’t…” She choked out.
The teacher didn’t believe her.
“Detention.” She said, slamming down her ruler. “This is unacceptable.”
In detention, more troublesome students took Mizore’s stuffed cat Snowbell and threw it around everywhere, taunting and mocking her. This made her feel embarrassed, but also hurt. Snowbell was special to Mizore. They wouldn’t understand.
Mizore wished she were a brave and independent woman who could stand up for herself.
Mizore felt like a child.
Mizore got back home by the time it was dusk, to her empty, lonely house. Her busy single mom wouldn’t be returning until midnight. Outside, distant thunder boomed and echoed through the vacant place. The electric bill wasn’t paid, so none of the lights were working. There was no food anywhere except for two stale slices of bread. The family had been poor for a long time.
Mizore decided to go to her room, the land of dreams. Only now, it was just a kingdom of loneliness. After a quick cry, Mizore decided to just sleep, and find solace under the covers. She curled up with her beloved plush cat Snowbell, and began to dream.
Sleep was sweet sometimes. It felt good to escape the land of hunger, loneliness, strict teachers and bullies, and to drift soundlessly through a place where it all didn’t matter.
Things were always hard for Mizore around this time of year. When the days became shorter, the air became chillier and leaves on trees began to die and shrivel.
For Mizore, it reminded her of her grandmother’s death.
———
Mizore loved her grandmother. She was the most magical person Mizore knew. She would tell Mizore all sorts of stories of worlds laced with magic, so wonderful and warm, you’d think she’d been there.
Little Mizore Hoshi, at the innocent young age of five, was a timid and lonely girl with albinism, pale skin, a reddish nose and wobbly knees. She would catch colds often, and constantly be sniffling.
Mizore was a little bit odd, and had strange habits such as pretending she was a cat. She liked to draw pictures and play make-believe. She was quiet, and did not like strangers or crowds. She really only got along with her older brother. At the age of five, Mizore got diagnosed with a disorder, something even the doctors did not quite understand.
“Well, she’s slow, what we’d call a bit eccentric, and doesn’t quite seem to understand social cues or situation-appropriate behaviors.” The strict, matter-of-fact doctor explained. “In some areas, I believe this is defined by a new label… Autism, I believe.”
“Autism? What is that?” Mizore’s mother asked, frantic. Question after question popped into her mind. “Will she be normal? Does it have to do with her albinism? Does her brother have it as well?”
Mizore heard her mom ask all these questions from through the door. She felt scared.
“It doesn’t seem to be related to her albinism.” The doctor said. “As for her half-brother, we cannot be sure. He does show a few symptoms, though not to the degree of Mizore. As for if they’ll ever turn out “normal,” it’s also very difficult to tell.”
Mizore didn’t know what any of it really meant when her mother, with tears in her eyes, told she was “different.” She didn’t like the sound of “different.” It was as if she “was not like everyone else.”
When Mizore was five years old, it was also the year people say the world fell dark. There was a recession, and money and resources became scarce. Times grew tough. People called it The Great Depression, which sounded quite like an oxymoron. What was so “great” about it, Mizore would wonder? Mizore, who once enjoyed blueberry pancakes and ice cream every morning, eventually found that meals weren’t always there when she needed them. The ice cream went away first, then the blueberries. Eventually, they couldn’t even afford the pancakes. The family would go without meals more and more frequently, leaving Mizore hungry and upset. This is when Mizore’s imagination became her biggest escape.
When Mizore started going to school, she was scared and overwhelmed. The teacher was strict. The lessons were structured. During play time, Mizore sat in her own little corner away from everyone, and drew on the walls to soothe herself. But when the teacher found the drawings Mizore had drawn on the walls, Mizore got scolded. Little Mizore spent the rest of the day crying and sniffling, not understanding why she had been yelled at.
Mizore’s grandmother decided her granddaughter’s imagination was just too big for such a little girl, so she bought her a friend, a stuffed white kitten, to talk to.
Mizore’s grandmother told Mizore that Snowbell was a special friend, and was always there to listen. When she was sad, Mizore could hug Snowbell and know she wasn’t alone.
Snowbell became Mizore’s favorite toy. In fact, she was in many ways a best friend. In Mizore’s imagination, Snowbell was a brave cat who liked to go on adventures. She was always playful too, though she was shy just like Mizore, and didn’t get along with strangers.
When Snowbell was there, Mizore could become anything and go anywhere. She and her brother would play make-believe, taking her on all their adventures.
Snowbell was there for many moments in Mizore’s life, including the sad ones.
One day when Mizore was six, and her brother was eight, their grandmother got diagnosed with liver cancer. Mizore didn’t know what cancer was, but her mother’s grave expression told her it was something devastating.
Mizore would visit her grandmother in the hospital, and always bring Snowbell with her. Even though she was distraught, she always assured Mizore that things would be okay.
Though her grandmother fought hard and smiled to the end, she succumbed to her illness and left Mizore one cold, gray day in late fall.
Ever since then, Mizore’s life was never the same. When Snowbell got a tear in her fabric, her grandmother was usually the one to sew it up. This time when Snowbell got a big tear, Mizore cried and cried. Her grandmother was nowhere to be.
Mizore had loved her grandmother very much. Her passing left her anguished and alone.
Mizore’s grandmother was kind, creative, and Mizore would’ve sworn that she was truly magical. She was the one who had given her Snowbell.
Mizore had believed for so long that Snowbell was truly a magical cat. She always knew Snowbell was listening to her.
To this day, Mizore never forgot her grandmother, and never stopped believing that she was magical.
But just like her grandmother, it seemed everyone Mizore once loved had to leave her one day.
When Mizore was little, she also had a half-brother she was very close with. His name was Yukiya Sono. His last name was different than Mizore’s, but they were as close as twins.
Yukiya Sono was a warm spot in Mizore’s life. He was simply a warm, playful, and kind boy who loved cheering up Mizore with funny stories and songs. They would play together, along with Snowbell, and go on all sorts of adventures together. Yukiya was never mean to Mizore. When other children picked on her, he would always stand up to them for her.
Yukiya didn’t have many friends either growing up. Both he and Mizore had albinism, with pale white, snow-kissed skin and hair, and starkly contrasting blood-red eyes. Their appearances put off a lot of other people. The two siblings really only had each other. Yukiya would tell Mizore stories about the moon. They’d play pretend as astronauts and pretend they lived in a house on the moon, which was really just a pillow fort in their room. Snowbell would always tag along on these adventures. She was alive to them. They’d fill their house with “moon cheese,” which on good days, were chunks of cheddar and gouda from the market that they would share and eat in their pillow fort. But with food becoming scarce, they’d sometimes have to dream up make-believe cheese.
Yukiya was born from their father Ginji’s previous marriage with a woman named Sofiya. Then Ginji divorced Sofiya, and married Murasaki, resulting in Mizore being born.
However, Ginji was a distant, abusive father. He always yelled at the siblings. He yelled at Murasaki. The house was always in disarray. During these times, Mizore and Yukiya would find somewhere quiet and cling together, afraid to even make a sound.
Eventually, their parents decided to divorce. Ginji was going to have custody of Yukiya. Mizore was going to stay behind with Murasaki, her mother.
They were going to be separated.
Mizore remembered the day Yukiya left her. He let Mizore keep Snowbell.
“You need her more than I do.” She remembered Yukiya saying. Those words stuck in her mind for years to come.
“I love you, so don’t cry, okay?” Yukiya said, before walking out the door, into their father’s car. Those were the last words he had ever said to her.
“Goodbye, big brother…”
Little did Mizore know, that once Yukiya got into their father’s car, the dam broke and he began to sob. He had refused to let Mizore see. He needed to be strong.
After her parents divorce, and separation from Yukiya, Murasaki decided to introduce Mizore to the daughter of her sister, Midori. Her name was Kiri.
Kiri was Mizore’s cousin. At first, Mizore was very shy, afraid to open up to Kiri, who was very vibrant and confident—unlike her. But the two ended up becoming close.
At first, Kiri was curious about Mizore’s albinism.
“You’re pretty, like a snowflake.” Kiri told Mizore. She had always been ashamed about looking different, so Kiri’s words made her feel welcome. Mizore always remembered that moment.
She also always remembered the moment where Kiri and her were playing in the yard, and they saw a butterfly. When the butterfly flew away, Mizore started sobbing. It only reminded her of all the people who had left her so far.
That’s when Kiri taught Mizore her special song.
“Think of me when it all looks bleak Think of me when it seems hopeless When the sky is dark, remember the times we shared When we laughed and smiled together. Think of me when you ever feel alone… Because I’m right here cheering for you!”
They sang the song together, and suddenly, the butterfly came back, along with a whole swarm of them. The two girls started to laugh, surrounded by butterflies and warmth.
Kiri and Mizore would play pretend together, going on adventures with Snowbell and their other toys. It was almost like playing with Yukiya again…
“I won’t ever leave you, Mizore. I promise.” Kiri said, during one of their final days together. But one day, Midori seemingly disappeared without warning, taking Kiri with her.
Mizore never saw Kiri again.
Mizore, eight years old, cried and cried, distraught that everyone she loved didn’t seem to stay in her life.
Because of this, Mizore was unable to let go of her childhood. While everyone else grew up and changed, Mizore continued to hold on tight to a time she’d never visit again.
———
After her long nap, Mizore found herself in her room, sitting up in bed, but it felt surreal. It had stopped raining, it was past midnight, and the clear sky outside her window was glowing with thousands of vibrant stars.
She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was dreaming. Mizore had never seen the stars shine with such clarity. She felt this night was different—magical, miraculous.
A shooting star first flickered, then streaked through the sky. With the reflection of the bright star in her wide eyes, Mizore folded her hands, looked down, and made a fond wish from deep within her heart…
“I wish…” Her voice came out a whisper. “I wish for a friend who will stay with me always.”
Nothing.
It’s not like Mizore was expecting anything.
“Oh well…” She sighed, casting her head down.
But then it happened.
Mizore heard laughter. The kind of laughter that was contagious and uplifting. It was coming from the mirror on her wall.
Then suddenly…
“Surprise!”
A burst of confetti came from the mirror, and out popped a colorful, frizzy creature! She was a colorful anthropomorphic bunny girl with floppy ears.
“Aaahh!” Mizore was indeed surprised!
“Oh, hi! I’m Candy Pop!” The mysterious bunny waved and spoke in a bubbly chirp. “I’m here to be your friend! So… what’s your name?”
Mizore wasn’t expecting this colorful character, who looked like she ran through a tornado of confetti. But Mizore felt like her wish was answered.
“…Um, I’m Mizore.” Mizore said softly. Then she smiled.
“Alright! Together, we’re going to make lots of friends, Mizore!” Candy cheered.
It was almost too much for Mizore to process, but she couldn’t help but feel warm inside.
Candy bounced back towards the mirror, which no longer reflected Mizore’s room. Instead, there was a colorful world inside the mirror. Mizore figured this colorful room, with a bed shaped like a slice of strawberry shortcake, was Candy’s home.
“Come on!” Candy said. “Follow me!”
Mizore stepped through, marveling at the magical moment.
“Welcome to the Cozy House!” Candy said. “This is just my room, but we’re now in a wonderful place where people go when they have a dream. The Cozy House is a magical building filled with joy!”
Mizore looked around, mesmerized.
“This… isn’t like any place I’ve ever seen. Are we still on Earth?” Mizore asked.
“Nope! We’re in the world of Whimsica, where anything is possible!” Candy bounced.
Suddenly, Mizore felt something soft and little brush against her leg. It was… Snowbell. Mizore gasped.
Snowbell was alive! She was a real animal now, a beautiful white cat with fur as soft and white as fresh, fluffy snow.
“Meow!” Snowbell greeted Mizore and began to purr. Mizore felt enthralled.
“This… this isn’t a dream, right?” Mizore shook, she suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream. I’m so happy now. If this all ended up being a dream, I’d be crushed…”
Candy threw a strawberry cupcake right at Mizore’s face. Splat! Icing got everywhere!
“H-hey! What was that about!” Mizore said with a face filled with frosting. Most of the cupcake ended up on the floor…
“Well, if this WAS a dream, you’d surely be wide awake now!” Candy giggled.
“…That’s true!” Mizore giggled. She licked the icing off her face, and laughed, and laughed, then laughed some more, until the butterflies in her stomach were all giggling too!
Then Mizore’s stomach growled, and she doubled over.
“Agh, Candy?” Mizore asked. “Would you happen to have more cake? That frosting tasted wonderful… And I’m starving.”
“Oh no!” Candy gasped in an animated way. “That… that was my last strawberry cupcake! And I threw it at you! I didn’t know you were so hungry… I’m sorry!”
Candy suddenly started crying, big ugly messy tears that plopped down from her fuzzy face. Mizore felt devastated just looking at her. But suddenly, Candy took out a polka-dot handkerchief, blew her nose, and blinked the tears away.
“Ah, there’s no use crying about it!” She said, smiling. “Well, you see, it IS okay to cry. But then you gotta get back up and try again!”
“Do you have any other food here?” Mizore asked.
“Well…”
Candy bounced towards a rather large ice chest and looked inside.
“Let’s see… there’s this old bread… a tiny pinch of salt and olive oil, a bruised tomato… and ONE piece of cheese…”
Mizore sighed. There wasn’t much food at all. But to her surprise, Candy seemed satisfied.
“Yes! I can make something great with these!”
She jumped towards her little oven, and it was like magic happened.
Candy toasted the bread with olive oil, melted the cheese in between until the bread was crispy, and the cheese was gooey and melty. She mashed the tomato in a pot, stirred it into a sauce, added a pinch of salt, until a rich aroma began to fill the room. It was an irresistible, safe aroma that made Mizore’s mouth water and entire body feel cozy. Even Snowbell began to purr and flick her tail happily.
“Ta-da!” Candy said when it was done. “My gourmet grilled cheese with tomato purée! Bon appetit! Or should I say, bon voyage? Because you’ll be on a journey after taking a bite of this!”
Candy watched Mizore eagerly take her first hearty bite of the sandwich. Mizore dipped the next slice into the purée and ate some more. The taste and texture of the sweet, tangy purée spread across her tastebuds, complimenting the savory cheese and warming her from the inside out as it went down. She also saved a bit for Snowbell, who ate it delightedly, licking her whiskers when she was finished.
“This is wonderful…” Mizore said in between bites. “How did you do this?”
“Well, my grandma once told me this.” Candy said, smiling earnestly. “You can create miracles out of simple scraps, as long as you believe in those miracles. Even when it feels bleak, if you keep hope, you can make magic happen.”
Mizore suddenly began to tear up. It truly had been a miraculous night so far.
“That’s what my grandma would’ve said too…” She sniffled. “Candy, thank you. Not only for this meal, but… for being my friend.”
“Aww, you’re welcome!” Candy cuddled Mizore. “Well, I’ll let you finish your meal. After this, we’ve got a whole parade of new friends for you to meet!”
Mizore finally made a true friend at last, in a world where wishes came true.
But little did she know, Mizore was soon going to have to save this world from impending despair…