Keifer POV 🔪🔪🔪
What have I just done.
The thought didn't come all at once.
It crept in.
Slow.
Unwelcome.
Too late.
My hands felt heavier than they should have as I stood there, unmoving, the silence in the room pressing in from all sides. It wasn't quiet in the way I was used to. It wasn't the controlled silence of my own space, the kind I chose.
This was different.
This was the kind of silence that came after something irreversible.
My own friend.
Dead.
The word didn't settle right.
Didn't sit where it was supposed to.
Because it wasn't supposed to be him.
Not like this.
Not by my hands.
But—
It had to be done.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my breathing to stay even as I reached into my pocket, pulling out the black gloves I had brought with me. My fingers slid into them one by one, the material tightening against my skin, grounding me in something real.
Something controlled.
I couldn't leave anything behind.
No fingerprints.
No trace.
Nothing that tied this back to me.
Jay Jay is mine.
Always mine.
The thought came sharper than anything else.
Stronger than the guilt.
Stronger than the hesitation.
And that was the problem.
Because even now—
Even standing here—
I knew I would make the same choice again.
My gaze shifted.
Slowly.
Carefully.
I didn't want to look.
But I did anyway.
Yuri.
Still.
Unmoving.
Too still.
A strange tightness formed in my chest, something unfamiliar pushing against the edges of my composure.
"I'm… sorry, Yuri."
The words came out quieter than I expected.
Lower.
Heavier.
I let go of the knife, letting it fall from my hand as I lowered myself to my knees, the impact barely registering. My eyes stayed on him, searching for something that wasn't there anymore.
Anything.
Some sign.
Some indication that this hadn't gone as far as it had.
But there was nothing.
Just the reality of what I had done.
For a brief moment—
It felt like time slowed.
Like everything narrowed down to just this room, this space, this single outcome that couldn't be undone.
His eyes met mine.
There was something there.
Something I couldn't ignore.
Something I didn't want to understand.
He tried to speak.
I saw it.
He struggled for it.
And for a second—
For a split second—
I almost said something.
Almost stopped everything.
Almost—
But I didn't.
Because I couldn't.
Not anymore.
One word.
That was all he managed.
"Why."
It didn't come out strong.
Didn't come out clear.
But I heard it.
And it stayed.
It stayed longer than anything else.
His gaze faded after that.
Slow.
Gradual.
Until there was nothing left to hold onto.
No movement.
No resistance.
No Yuri.
Goodbye, Yuri.
The thought didn't bring relief.
It didn't bring closure.
It just—
Marked the end.
My throat tightened slightly as I remained there for a moment longer, my hands resting against the floor, my head lowering just enough to let the weight of it settle.
I felt it.
The guilt.
The regret.
The shame.
All of it came at once, crashing in harder than I expected.
I closed my eyes briefly, my breath uneven for just a second before I forced it back under control.
I had to.
I couldn't afford not to.
"I had to," I muttered under my breath.
Not to him.
To myself.
Because if I didn't believe that—
Then none of this would make sense.
And I needed it to make sense.
I needed this to be worth it.
I pushed myself up slowly, my movements steadier now, more controlled as I stepped away, forcing distance between me and what was left behind.
I couldn't stay in that moment.
Not for long.
Not if I wanted to finish this properly.
I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I looked around the room.
Focus.
That's what mattered now.
Not emotions.
Not guilt.
Not any of that.
Just—
Control.
"I'm crazy," I muttered under my breath.
The realization came with a quiet, almost bitter edge.
Four months.
That's all it had been.
Four months since Jay entered my life.
And I had already chosen her.
Over him.
Over someone who had been there since the beginning.
The thought lingered for a second longer than it should have.
Then I pushed it away.
Because it didn't matter anymore.
What was done—
Was done.
I moved toward the desk, my steps more purposeful now as I scanned through Yuri's things, pulling open drawers, shifting papers aside until I found what I needed.
A blank sheet.
A pen.
Simple.
Effective.
My fingers steadied as I sat down, my mind already recalling the way Yuri wrote. The curves of his letters. The spacing. The pressure.
I had seen it enough times.
More than enough to replicate it.
The pen pressed against the paper.
And I began.
It was me. I can't handle the guilt of this anymore. I'm sorry for killing Zoren. It had to be done, goodbye. Forgive me, God. And forgive me my friends and family.
I stared at the words for a moment after finishing, my eyes scanning every detail, every stroke, every line.
It was convincing.
It had to be.
I adjusted it slightly, refining the shape of a letter, the tilt of a word, making sure it matched perfectly.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just like him.
I placed the pen down carefully, my fingers lingering for a second before I stood again, looking at the room one more time.
Everything was falling into place.
Everything was under control again.
Or—
At least it looked that way.
My gaze flickered back briefly.
Just once.
Then I turned away.
Because staying would only make it harder.
And I didn't need that.
Not now.
Not anymore.
As I moved toward the door, my hand resting against the handle, a thought slipped in.
Quiet.
Unsettling.
Unavoidable.
Or… is it?
I didn't answer it.
I just stepped out.
And closed the door behind me.
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