A brown-haired kid wove through a crowded street beside a black-haired boy.
"We're almost there—come on, hang in there!" Lunas tugged my arm, wiping sweat off his brow with his free hand.
"Ugh, slow down! I can't see a thing," I grumbled, trying not to trip over the sea of legs around us.
Seeing me struggle to keep up with my short legs, Lunas chuckled and took another bite of his bread.
We were broke, of course. Living off jam-stained bread wasn't much, but compared to the orphanage? It was basically a feast. Not that I had the right to complain.
"Hey, Lunas, are we there yet?" I asked, scanning the street, hoping to spot a familiar figure.
"Relax, this is my first time here too," he said, frowning as he looked around. Then, his eyes lit up. "Ah—there she is!"
He pointed ahead, and before I knew it, we were running toward a huge, colorful tent covered in balloons and banners—like two moths diving headfirst into fire.
"Finally! What took you so long?!"A girl's irritated voice called out as we arrived. She glared at us before stomping off.
"Wait here. I'll handle this," Emma said, sighing as she marched off toward a stack of crates.
Only then did I actually take in our surroundings.
"…A circus? She's throwing my birthday party in a circus?"
Yeah, today was my fifteenth birthday. Not that I expected much—but still, a circus? Really?
Guess we'll end up talking about other stuff too… I felt my mouth twitch into a crooked smile.
"Hey, you're not planning to tell her the plan today, right?" Lunas whispered, sounding nervous.
"Scared?" I teased. His grimace said it all.
"Relax. Worst case, they just call us a bunch of delusional idiots. Like always." I shrugged. Reputation was never something I had to lose anyway.
Still… I couldn't deny a part of me was uneasy. Maybe because this plan actually mattered.
"GET OVER HERE!" Emma's voice echoed, and we both scrambled to obey.
Behind a red-and-blue curtain was a dimly lit room. Dolls lay scattered across the floor, balloons of every color hung from the ceiling, and in the center—three chairs and a birthday cake with a single large candle.
"That's… a birthday cake?" Lunas blinked at it, drooling slightly like a starving puppy. Poor guy probably hadn't seen one in his life.
Honestly, I couldn't blame him. None of us had birthdays back at the orphanage. Seeing those flickering candles now… it felt strange. A warm kind of strange.
"Why do you look so calm? Shouldn't you be surprised or something?" Emma asked as she walked in behind me.
"What, do I look like a cave man?" I shoved Lunas playfully, grinning. Emma laughed too, though Lunas was too busy eyeing the cake to care.
"Sit down already. Let's get this started." She closed the curtain and took a seat.
Then, with a snap of her fingers, every candle went out—except for the one on the cake.
"Wait, is this how birthdays are supposed to work?" Lunas asked, shifting uneasily in the half-dark.
"Alright, three, two, one—sing!" Emma clapped the rhythm, and soon the three of us were singing, laughing, smearing cream on each other's faces.
For a while, it was perfect. Just three kids pretending the world wasn't cruel.
…
As I wiped frosting off my cheek, Lunas patted my shoulder."It's your birthday, Ron. Got anything you wanna share?"
I chuckled awkwardly. Share? Oh, there's plenty I'd love to say… just not yet.
But then I saw his eyes—the look that said go on. And so I turned toward Emma, smiling faintly.
"Yeah, actually… there's something."
"Oh?"
"I've got a plan. A brilliant one." I threw my hands up like a kid announcing a miracle.
"Oh, really? You planning now? What sparked that genius today?" Emma mocked lightly, side-eyeing Lunas still licking his plate.
"Be patient. This'll take a while," I said dramatically, then launched into it—our future, our crew, the underworld, the change we'd bring. Of course, I left out the dangerous bits.
…
"So, let me get this straight," Emma said, squinting. "You want to stop a terrorist act… with another terrorist act?"
"I explained it already!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Ever since I started, she'd been grilling me like a detective. Lunas? Useless. Just sitting there spacing out.
"I'll… grab some drinks," he mumbled, slipping away. He never took my ideas seriously anyway.
"Then why not tell me more about yourself?" Emma asked suddenly, voice low, eyes glinting.
"What do you mean? You already know me."
"There are just some questions that won't leave my head," she said. "Like your real name."
"My name? It's Ron Irus. Obviously."
"No. I mean your past name. The one before this life."
"My… past name?" I blinked. "Call me Joe, I guess. Whatever."
"'Joe,' huh? Then tell me about your past life," she said eagerly, leaning forward.
"Uh…" I exhaled, leaning back with my hands in my pockets. "Nothing special. Just an ordinary guy. Liked the gym, games… oh, and I wrote a web novel once. Got kinda popular."
"Oh? Tell me about it," she said, smiling wider, eyes shining.
"It's really nothing—just—" I stopped.
My hands felt… wrong.
When I pulled them out, one was holding a gun.The other… a coin.
"What the hell—" Pain exploded in my skull. I clutched my head, slamming it against the table.
Emma's expression froze—then melted. Her hair spilled down, black and endless, swallowing her face, her body.
The dim light faded into a suffocating dark.
Her voice came from somewhere deep within that abyss."Come on, tell me more. It was just getting interesting."
"Ugh—" My hand twitched, the gun barrel turning—toward my own temple.
"Don't go yet," she said—or whatever she had become. "The party's not over."
The dolls stirred.
Their cute painted smiles cracked and vanished, their dresses turning into ribbons of black silk. Their heads rolled off one by one, clattering onto the floor.
Balloons began to fall from above—bursting as they hit the ground.
Except… they weren't balloons.
They were heads. My heads. Dozens of them. Rotting, crawling with worms.
"Heh…" I exhaled. "Figures."
As the headless dolls reached for me, I looked up—at her. No. Not Emma. Not anymore. The same hollow guardian I'd seen before.
Without thinking, I pulled the trigger.
Bang.
My brains splattered across the table, painting the dark in red and gray.
RUMBLE.
The world shook violently. The circus collapsed, reality itself cracking apart like glass under pressure. Everything fell—disappearing into the endless void.
And then…
"Welcome back."
A voice echoed in the darkness.
Two figures stood facing each other—one in white, one in black.
"Ha… ha… you son of a bitch."