The smell reached me before anything else.
Chocolate.
And something beneath it that had no business existing in the same world.
My legs moved before my mind gave permission.
Each step felt wrong —
like the floor was tilting,
like gravity had quietly shifted and forgotten to tell me.
The hallway had never felt this long before.
Or maybe I was just moving slower than I thought.
( I'd spent the whole day running. Now I couldn't make my legs work.)
I didn't realize I was holding my breath —
until I saw him.
Zane was standing in the hallway.
Just... standing.
But something about him didn't belong there.
Not his body. Not his face. Not even the air around him.
His eyes.
That was the part I couldn't look away from.
Zane's eyes had always been loud —
the kind that laughed before his mouth did,
the kind that betrayed him every time he tried to lie.
But now...
they were empty in a way I didn't recognize.
Not fear.
Fear I'd seen before.
This was something older.
Something that felt like it had crawled out of a place
it was never supposed to exist in.
Like he had looked at something
that the world had quietly agreed
no one was ever meant to see.
And it had looked back.
Not sick-wrong, the way he'd been this morning.
Broken-wrong.
His whole body was trembling.
Not shaking from cold —
something deeper.
Something inside him was still happening...
even if he wasn't moving anymore.
This was him not being able to come back.
I forced a half-smile.
"What's with the ghost impression? You looked better when you were faking sick this morning."
Nothing.
Not even a blink.
That's when it hit me.
This wasn't him ignoring me.
This was him not being here.
"Hey." My voice dropped.
"Zane, look at me."
Still nothing.
I stepped closer —
The moment I did — his body reacted.
A sharp, violent flinch —
like my voice had hit something inside him.
His eyes snapped to mine.
And for the first time —
there was something there.
Not relief. Not recognition.
Desperation.
Like he was drowning and I was the only thing in reach —
but he couldn't grab me.
"You're scaring me."
(I never say that.
I never say that to anyone.)
Zain
Talk to me!!
(Now I wasn't joking anymore.)
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Closed again.
Like the words were being erased before they could exist.
Then —
slowly...
his hand rose.
Like it didn't belong to him anymore.
One finger.
Trembling.
Pointing.
Toward the kitchen.
I looked at his hand.
Then at his eyes.
He wasn't telling me to go.
He was warning me not to.
Something inside me went completely silent.
The kind of silence that doesn't feel calm.
It feels like the moment right before something breaks for good.
I moved.
Past him.
He didn't stop me.
He couldn't.
And behind me...
Zane was still standing there.
Stuck in whatever had already happened to him..
The kitchen door swung open without resistance.
Like it had been waiting.
The smell hit me like a wall —
Chocolate.
Blood.
And then —
Her.
Tsuki.
On the floor.
Still.
So completely, impossibly still.
The chocolate she had been preparing was scattered across the tiles —
The clock on the wall was ticking loud enough to rattle my bones,
but the hands weren't moving.
Time had died with her, yet the chocolate on the floor stayed warm.
Warm and wrong."
dark and warm and heartbreakingly out of place
against everything else that surrounded her.
Two worlds that should never have touched,
forced together on the same cold floor.
She had promised me chocolate.
I had promised her I'd go to school.
(We were both liars today)
I don't remember crossing the room.
I just remember being beside her —
on my knees,
hands reaching,
grabbing her shoulders, her face, her hands —
"Mom—"
The word didn't sound like mine.
"Mom—"
I turned her face toward me.
Gently.
The way she used to hold mine when I had fever —
careful,
like something precious,
like something that could still be saved.
(It couldn't. But I wasn't ready to know that yet.)
Her eyes were closed.
She looked peaceful...
in a way that felt wrong.
I pressed my ear to her chest —
Silence.
Not the temporary kind.
Not the kind that ends.
The forever kind.
Something cracked open in me then —
something I hadn't known existed —
and the sound that came out wasn't a word,
wasn't a name,
wasn't anything human.
It was just grief.
Formless. Raw. Too large for my body.
I should have been here.
I should have come home.
I should have— (Should have what, Kai?
Should have stayed?
Should have been the good son just once?)
Too late for that now...
That's when I felt it.
A presence.
Behind me.
I turned —
And the world stopped.
Hikaru.
My father.
He stood at the far end of the kitchen.
Still.
Silent.
His eyes fixed on her — on Tsuki —
with an expression I had never seen on his face
and would spend the next eight years trying to forget.
And in his hand —
A knife.
Dark at the blade.
Something fell from the blade.
One drop.
Then another.
The air left my lungs...
and didn't come back.
He turned.
Slowly.
And his eyes found mine —
For one endless, infinite second —
we just looked at each other.
His mouth opened slightly —
"Kai—"
And then —
The ceiling tilted.
The walls rushed inward.
The chocolate blurred into the red,
and the red blurred into everything,
and everything blurred into —
Her laugh.
Just for a moment.
Free. Warm. Unbreakable.
"I've got you."
Then—
Nothing.
And just like that... the world I knew ended without asking me.
"Truth doesn't just hurt...it bleeds."
(To be continued...)