"Ugh… Hh… nnh…"
Consciousness didn't return all at once. It dragged me upward in slow, uneven pulls, like I was being hauled through something thick and suffocating. Thoughts came in fragments, and sensation followed in jagged pieces.
The light hit me first—bright… too bright. It burned through my eyelids, sharp and invasive, white in a way that didn't feel natural.
Not sunlight. Not anything soft. It felt artificial, harsh, like a row of spotlights aimed directly at my face. My head swayed slightly as I surfaced, my balance not quite my own, my body lagging behind whatever part of me had woken first.
Sound came next.
"You said a number earlier… what was it again?" A voice was right there. Close enough that, for a fragile, desperate second, I almost believed it was him—Mr. Lee leaning over me, his voice low and steady as he told me we'd finally made it back to my house, that it was over, that I was safe.
But the feeling didn't hold.
"You said you needed money, right? I'm offerin'."
The tone was wrong—too flat, too empty, like the shape of his voice without any of the weight that should've come with it. It didn't match the mental image I was reaching for, didn't settle into it; it just hovered there, off by something I couldn't name.
"...offering…" I repeated. The word slipped out of me, weak and unsure, not quite understanding what I'd just heard.
And when my eyes finally forced themselves open, dragging the light in—The world didn't come into focus—it spilled in.
Color smeared across my vision in streaks of neon and white, reflections bending across glossy surfaces I couldn't immediately place.
Shapes stretched unnaturally before snapping back into place, my mind was struggling to render what I was seeing.
I blinked slowly, heavily, trying to force everything to settle—but it barely helped.
The blur sharpened just enough to be overwhelming.
I wasn't where I was supposed to be. I knew that instantly, even if I couldn't say where I should have been.
A car sat in front of me—low, sleek, unfamiliar. Its surface reflected the chaos of the city around us, lights rippling across its body like water.
The engine hummed softly, its steady vibration seemed to sink into my bones. Beyond it, the street stretched out in both directions, crowded with movement—other cars glided past in tight lines, headlights cutting through the night in blinding streaks.
Buildings rose high on either side, layered in glowing signs and shifting displays that pulsed with color—pinks, blues, greens—each one fighting for attention. It was too much. Too loud. Too alive.
And I— My hand was out.
The realization came slowly, like noticing someone else's limb attached to me. My arm was extended toward the open window of the car, fingers slightly curled, waiting.
Then something was pressed into my palm.
"Is this enough?"
I looked down. At first, it didn't register. There were only thin pieces—flat and stiff, their edges too clean. They had been folded and pushed into my hand, placed there with quiet certainty.
For a moment, all I could think was how wrong they looked, like foreign paper—something that didn't belong to me. Then the shape settled, followed by the texture, and finally the meaning.
Cash.
My fingers tightened around it automatically, not because I wanted to, but because, before all of this—before everything broke—this was what I needed. What we needed.
Money meant time. Time off work. Dinners that weren't rushed. Maybe even something more—something impossible, like a real vacation. Something I never got… but always thought I might, someday.
For all of us.
The thought hit fast—too fast.
And my face reacted before I could stop it.
A smile pulled at my lips—heavy, wrong, like it didn't belong to me—while my grip tightened around the bills.
"It's more than enough…" I whispered, the words slipping out under that heavy, misplaced smile—more to myself than anyone else, meant for a life that wasn't here anymore.
"Alright, if it's enough, then get in and start—" the voice added, sharp and mocking. "You damn virgins cost a lot these days," as if it had been waiting for the chance to remind me who held the power.
"Vir…gins…?" I echoed, already beginning to question what he meant as I finally looked up at him, tearing my gaze away from the cash.
The man in the driver's seat leaned slightly toward the open window, frowning. His face came into clearer focus now—older, uneasy, confused in a way that made something twist in my stomach.
"Hello?" he said, squinting at me. "You're supposed to get in and—uh… what the hell is wrong with your eyes? They're red."
I barely registered what he said. The words slipped past me, lost somewhere in the noise of my own pulse. My stomach dropped anyway, a cold, sinking feeling twisting through me.
This wasn't right. None of this was right.
Then, a beat too late, it all clicked—the scene in front of me, and what he'd been trying to make me do.
"…I… I'm not doing anything for you!" My hand moved before I could even think. The cash shot from my fingers in a sharp motion, scattering across his lap and the car interior. "G-get away from me, you pervert!"
For a split second, everything froze. He leaned forward, his face slowly twisting with a mix of amusement and hunger.
"Pervert, huh?… W–what happened to that cute, bratty little voice? …Heh… I think I liked that one better."
"S-stay back—or I-i'll tell someone!" I stammered, backing up instinctively.
"The fuck?!" He snapped, yanking the door open, it collided with my arm, slamming into the same shoulder I'd hurt in Juna's room. A sharp, hot pain shot through me—my body jerking involuntarily like I'd been zapped. My vision blurred, my legs threatening to buckle as shock rolled through me, slow and heavy, forcing my limbs into motion.
I didn't think. I just ran. My body moved fast—too fast—like it had been waiting for permission. My feet slammed against the pavement in quick, uneven beats as I pushed forward.
The weird neon lit city swallowed me, its chaos stretching in every direction, but I didn't care. I only cared about getting away—getting far, far away from him, away from whatever the hell I'd just been standing there doing.
Lights streaked past in long smears of color. Headlights flared too bright as cars rushed by, their engines roaring in overlapping waves that made it hard to pick out any single sound.
Voices blended into noise—laughter, shouting, fragments of conversation that didn't make sense as they hit me all at once. Everything felt too close.
My breath came in sharp, uneven pulls as I ran. The ground felt unstable beneath my feet, like it might tilt out from under me at any second.
What was I doing—? My head spun, vision flickering at the edges as if it might black out again at any moment. My heart pounded so hard it hurt, each beat rattling through my ribs like a warning drum. And my hands—
They felt wrong—alien, yet familiar. As if they remembered something I didn't, as if they knew what to do before my mind could catch up. Like they were supposed to reach out again, to repeat the motion, to fall back into something practiced and familiar.
Something I had no memory of.
I grabbed it with my other hand, fingers clamping tight around my wrist, forcing it still. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling too fast as I stared at it, like it might move again on its own.
"…What the hell is wrong with me…?"
I turned a corner into a shadowed alley, gasping for breath. That's when I heard him—the man from before.
"Find her. Bring her back. I want my session, and I want it now."
"Y-yes, sir," two men stammered at once.
My heart slammed against my ribs as panic tore through me. I bolted, my legs faltered under the strain, until my eyes locked onto a ladder. Every weak muscle screamed in protest as I dragged myself up, my fingers slipping against the cold metal.
I had only made it halfway when a voice suddenly cracked through the air.
{…You idiot! What the hell are you doing?!}
I flinched violently, my grip slipping as I twisted around, eyes darting down the alley and toward the street below. My chest heaved as I searched for someone—anyone—but there was no one there, only empty pavement, distant headlights, and the low hum of the city.
Then the voice came again, sharper and closer.
{We should've just taken the money. That was the whole fuckin' point…}
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I looked around once more, scanning every corner, every shadow, but still found nothing.
"…Who… who's there?" I whispered, my voice unsteady.
{Do you have any idea how much that would've bought us? Decent clothes, for starters. Not this cheap shit—we're talking things that actually fit right…}
The words didn't come from anywhere. There was no direction, no echo—nothing to latch onto. They simply appeared, clear and intrusive, threading through my thoughts as if they belonged there.
A cold realization crept in, tightening my chest. My hand lifted instinctively, pressing against the side of my head as if I could smack it out. "I-it's… inside me!"
{Are you stupid? Stop that.}
I hit my head again anyway. "G-get out… g-get out!" I hissed, desperation tearing through me.
{It's no use,} she spat, irritation bleeding through. {Your body ain't yours to keep. It's meant to be bought, used, touched—and—}
"My body is not for sale!" I snapped, voice cracking as I cut her off.
{Shut the fuck up, dumbass.} Her tone dropped—colder now, sharper. {They're already looking for us. You really think they're still in a paying mood?}
I froze for half a step.
{If you're not going back—and you already screwed that up—then the least you can do is be quiet and move.}
"Huh?" I muttered, breath hitching, mind spinning.
{I would've preferred we finished the deal,} she continued, voice low, edged with irritation. {But that option's gone now.} A brief pause—then colder:
{So unless you want them to take it out on us for free… move yer ass!}
"F-free… I—I don't understand… wh-" My voice shook, barely audible over the panic curling in my chest.
{You don't need to,} she snapped back. {Just know that if you hesitate, it will be worse.}
The air in my lungs pressed heavy.
{Now stop wasting time. Either run—} her tone dropped, sharp and final, {—or I'll make the decision for you.}
"O-okay… I… I'll…" My voice faltered as my body locking up between panic and motion.
From below, someone shouted: "There she is!"
{Hurry the fuck up!} The voice snapped inside my head, sharp and tense, cutting through the roar of my pounding heartbeat.
Every rung felt slick, every movement a battle against the panic clawing at me. The sound of their voices growing louder, closer, left me no choice. Gritting my teeth, I forced my unsteady fingers to grip tighter and hauled myself higher, each inch was a desperate fight to stay upright.
Finally, I pulled myself over the edge, collapsing onto the rooftop for a moment, gasping for breath. My body felt weak, every muscle screaming—stamina that used to carry me effortlessly, like when I chased the school bus as a kid, now barely held up.
"Get back here, you little shit!" one of them bellowed, their footsteps pounding like drums behind me.
I got up instantly despite being winded and bolted in a random direction, gravel spraying underfoot, my legs moving faster than my thoughts—no plan, no direction, just blind panic driving me forward.
{Watch out for that ledge!} The voice ripped into my head, sharp and urgent—but it was too sudden.
My body didn't stop when she said it. I was already moving—too fast. My foot hit loose gravel and slipped— I was still going forward.
"W—wait—!" I lurched, momentum dragging me ahead as my heel skidded off the edge. For a split second, there was nothing under it—just air.
My other foot slammed down hard, scraping against the rooftop as I twisted sideways, hands shooting out. My fingers clawed into the rough surface, nails grinding as I caught myself—barely.
Below, the street yawned like a black pit—cars like toy models far beneath me, every one of them part of a deadly landing I wouldn't survive.
"W-what the… f—fuck…" I gasped, barely more than a whisper, my voice trembling. It was the first time I'd ever said it. The word felt wrong on my tongue—foreign—yet it slipped out anyway, jagged and raw.
My heartbeat grew louder as my body locked up at the edge. Then, all at once, I scrambled backward, fingers dragging uselessly against the rough surface.
"H-how… how did you know that?" I stammered, words tripping over each other. "I c-couldn't even s—"
{Because I'm not blind, idiot… I've been—} She cut herself off, as if she'd almost said something she shouldn't. A beat passed—then her voice came back sharper:
{Just quit thinking about it. Get up.}
I forced myself up again and ran along the edge, more gravel skittering under my feet. My chest heaved, legs shivering, eyes locked on the dark gap ahead. Another rooftop waited across the chasm.
"Th-the… there's another one… w-what now? What do I do now?" My voice cracked, desperation spilling out.
"No way out, kid! You're trapped… nowhere left to run!" one of the men bellowed behind me, his voice sharp and threatening. His footsteps pounded closer, echoing in my ears.
{Jump.}
"W-what?! J-jump?!" My voice cracked, ragged, heart hammering.
There was a beat of silence behind me—then one of them reacted.
"Sh-she said she's gonna jump! Bro… she's crazy. Just leave her be—she's gonna kill herself!" the younger man stammered, voice high and panicked, hesitation bleeding through every word.
But the older man snapped, sharp and venomous: "Are you fuckin' insane? We can't just let her get away! Especially not when it's my turn next!
"Dude… come on," the younger one tried again, desperate, voice tight with fear.
Then I whispered, my voice wavered, hands pressed to my face as if hiding could shield me from the dizzying void ahead. "I-I… I can't." My knees wobbled, legs trembling like wet noodles, teetering on the edge.
The wind tore at me, biting through my clothes, whipping my hair across my face. My fingers dug into nothing but air and the skin of my own face.
Every instinct screamed to turn and run, but there was nowhere to go—just the empty gap to the next rooftop, yawning like a pit beneath me.
"I'm not… I'm not jumping… I… I just… I can't!"
{I know… I know it's far… it's high… it's terrifying. But I'm right here. You're not alone, okay?}
My eyes darted to the edge again. Below, the air seemed to twist and pull, like the city itself was trying to swallow me.
"No… no no no no! Its impossible!"
My legs froze, quivering under me as the older man's shadow stretched closer behind me.
{Come on! You stupid fuck!—jump!} The voice snapped into my skull, sharp and biting, ripping at every frayed nerve.
"Y-you… you're scaring me!" I gasped, my voice raw and jittering. "I… I can't! I… I—"
{Look at you—frozen like a pathetic little mouse.}
I pressed my palms to my eyes, as if hiding them could somehow shield me from the void. My head shook violently
" I can't—"
{Shh… listen… just… listen to me.}
The voice softened instantly, sliding past the panic like a warm hand brushing against my trembling skull. {I'm right here…} It wasn't sharp or harsh anymore. It wasn't lashing or forcing. It was gentle, insistent, real—like it understood every quake of fear in my body.
"I… I… I…" I stumbled backward, almost toppling off a different edge of the roof entirely.
"AH!" My chest leapt, knees threatening to buckle, but somehow I caught myself, fingers clawing at the rough surface, scraping for grip.
My body screamed at me to run, to curl into nothing, to vanish, but the voice cut in despite my overwhelming fear.
{Feel me. I'll hold you, I won't let you fall—not if you reach for me, even just a little. Take a breath. I'll guide you, and I promise—you won't die...}
"I… I…" My voice barely left my lips.
{In… and out… slow. Like this…} Her tone had shifted completely—soft, steady, almost impossibly calm.
I felt the rhythm before I understood it—her breath, gentle and measured, threading into mine. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale…
Each one tugged at my chest, coaxing the tremor from my limbs, forcing my body to follow.
She felt like some sort of impossible guardian angel in the middle of the storm. Even with the men closing in, the chaos hammering around us, I felt that tether in every inhale, every exhale—like she was there, close, breathing with me, holding me upright.
And then… I let myself move. One uneasy step forward.
Then another. And another. Step after trembling step, each one more impossible than the last. My chest burned, lungs ragged, legs screaming at me to collapse, to stop, to run back into the safety of nothing. Every fiber of my body screamed that I shouldn't—that I'd die if I kept going…
But her voice—everything she had just said—slipped into me, threading through the panic, steadying me, letting me move when every instinct shouted not to.
And then—I leapt.
For a heart beating second, the world froze.
Then—
A crushing pressure grabbed me from behind. Hands latched onto my ankle "Ha! Finally… got your pretty little butt! Didn't think you could get away from me, did you?"
"G-erh?!" I gasped, heart hammering, disbelief roaring in my chest. My body jerked violently, trying to wrench free, but he had me.
{You've done enough.} Her voice curled through my mind, smooth, certain—almost amused. {Go on… let me take control. You don't want to mess this up now, do you?}
Something in the way she said it—light, confident, like the outcome was already decided—made my chest tighten. I didn't trust it. I couldn't. Not now, after seeing how drastically her tone had changed.
…but my body didn't listen.
"Hey—your eyes, they just turned yellow—that's a neat little tri—" he said, pulling me in closer to him, mid-air.
In an instant, everything snapped. My body moved. Not like me—too fast, too sharp, too precise. My spine twisted, limbs bending in ways that felt wrong, alien. A grin stretched across my face, one I didn't make.
"{I know, right?}" The words slipped out of my mouth without me, smooth and amused.
Before he could react, my body surged forward, crawling over him with terrifying speed. My leg wrenched free from his grip with a sickening force—something tore, something gave—but I didn't feel it.
Then—without hesitation, without reason—my hand dove into his pocket and came out with something. A weapon, sort of, but not like any gun I'd ever seen: cold, angular, humming faintly as if it had a mind of its own.
Bang—
A single shot tore through the air.
I watched—I watched—as the life drained from his eyes, his grin collapsing into nothing. And then… something slipped from me before I could stop it. My mouth curved, pulling into a laugh that wasn't mine—raw, ragged, uncontrollable. It ripped out, echoing in the night, shocking me with how easily it had taken over.
My own voice sounded alien to my ears, full of cruel amusement, watching him collapse.
And then my body pushed off him, launching away, tumbling through the air with a speed that felt impossible.
I hit the lower rooftop hard, the impact jarring through my bones, but shock numbed me. I didn't feel pain. I didn't feel the scrape of concrete against my skin. Nothing. Just… emptiness, like my body had been unmoored from itself.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
No sound. No thought. No recognition. Just the raw, echoing void of being unanchored.
And then it all came crashing back—the weight of my arms, the ache in my legs, the sting of blood and dirt on my palms.
My body was mine again.
I doubled over, gagging, stomach twisting violently as everything I'd eaten clawed its way up. "—ghkuhlaaaa—!" My hands shook uncontrollably, nails scraping against the rough concrete as I struggled to draw air into my lungs.
My mind spun, trying to piece together what had just happened. The way my limbs had moved—so fast, so precise, so wrong. The way my own reflexes had obeyed commands I hadn't intended to give.
What… did my body just do?
{God… that was amazing.} Her words echoed in my head, alien and impossibly amused.
"Y-you… you killed him…" My voice shook, breath hitching, hands shivering. "You actually made me kill a p-person?"
{Saved your life, didn't I?} she replied smoothly, like it was obvious—like it didn't even need explaining.
A quiet chuckle slipped in, low and pleased.
{Call it self-defense. The bastard was trying to take something he didn't pay for anyway…} She pause. Then—
{Heh… hahaha…} The laughter curled through my head, light, amused—like it had all just been a game.
My stomach twisted harder.
"Y-you didn't have to shoot him!" I snapped, voice cracking. "You could've just let him fall! You didn't have to use my hands for murder!"
{Murder?} Her tone sharpened, flat and precise. {It wasn't murder. It was survival. Did you see his legs? He had Implants, dumbass. He wasn't going down. Not without blood.}
I shook my head violently, panic and revulsion twisting me inside out. "I don't care what he had! That doesn't make it right!"
{Oh, shut the hell up!} she snapped, the edge in her voice cutting deep. {If I hadn't stepped in, he would've dragged you down with him. You think he'd just fall? He would've taken your body straight to the ground.} Her tone twisted, frustration already bleeding through.
I shook my head, chest tightening as panic twisted my stomach. "B-but… why did you laugh?!" I croaked, voice ragged. "Right then… how could you laugh at that?!"
{You see…} she said between chuckles, voice calm but edged with that strange amusement, {it's not him I'm laughing at. It's you. The way you panic, the way your body freezes while your mind screams—watching you realize what survival really costs… that's why.}
My stomach twisted, nausea and fear knotting together. "Y-you… you can't… that's not funny!" I gasped, voice breaking.
{Funny?} Her tone dropped, colder now, sharper. {No. It's… fascinating. Watching someone like you—so convinced you're human, so fragile—and then the second I step in to keep you alive, your itty bitty little tittys perk up.}
My gaze dropped to my chest without thinking—like I was making sure I was still there—trying to process how she could say something like that in a moment like this, before my mind skipped past it.
"W-wasn't there… any other way…?" I whispered, voice small, breaking.
{No there wasn't!} she paused for a beat—then added, quieter, almost mocking:
{Next time, I'll just let you die instead.}
I forced my eyes away. Deep down, I knew she had saved me… but it didn't feel like a gift. Not really. It felt like I'd lost even more of something I didn't even know I had. And that feeling didn't go away.