"Haru" Mina's voice—soft, concerned.
My body jumps when she says my name.
She steps closer.
Shit—
Her pale legs come into view. Her knees lower until they're resting right in front of me.
Close. Too close.
Her scent surrounds me.
Familiar.
But not in a good way.
"Haru," she whispers again—closer this time.
My eyes drift toward a direction she isn't, settling on the small cracks in the sidewalk. Something tightens in my chest—like the whole world is collapsing, like everything is suddenly, painfully wrong—
Her fingers touch my chin, light, almost worshipful.
I gasp—quick and sharp—my body's instinct to fight back flickering for a moment… but that's all it can muster.
She lifts my head.
Heart racing through the entire motion.
Silence
Her eyes lock into mine, and everything behind her disappears from my vision—like the sun decided to put its spotlight on me, but Mina stands in front of it… blocking it, keeping every bit of light from ever touching me.
My eyes feel locked onto hers—those red, glowing eyes cutting through the dark.
It feels impossible to escape… yet somehow natural to accept.
I hardly realize I'm struggling for breath.
The pain.
My knee.
I… don't feel any of it.
"Haru?"
My eyes drop for just a heartbeat,
unsure of what's real…
unsure if that voice even existed or if my mind made it up.
More pressure guides my chin upward—so gentle yet firm that I don't realize it at first.
My eyes drift to her arm.
Her wrist—
the cuts—
The only thing that screams at me is "love."
That same "love" she whispered about when she first showed them to me.
They're dried now…
but I can see the makeup she used to hide them.
"Haru… what's wrong? Your breathing's getting heavy… What else hurts?"
Her body trembles.
I can feel it—those tiny vibrations traveling from her fingertips into my chin.
Silence
"Did I… hurt you? Tell me… please," Mina says, her voice trembling with worry.
What do I do…?
If I say the wrong thing—
if I do the wrong thing—
"What's—what's wrong with my son?"
The voice echoes in my head…
but it isn't my mom's this time.
It's mine.
Yes.
That's it.
Something's wrong with me…
Right?
"I… I…"
The words fight to escape but get stuck in my throat.
My eyes drift to her lips—light red lipstick, soft enough to miss unless you're this close.
I swallow.
"Haru," she says, low… almost breathless.
"Shhh."
She presses a finger gently against my lips, releasing my chin at the same time.
She tilts her head—
smiling, slow and gentle,
too gentle.
"Let me help you… okay?"
Help me..?
She stands, then crouches on my right side.Her hand slides over my shoulder.
I comply.
We stand together.I hop on my left foot, keeping my injured right ankle raised.
For some reason, I can't force out a single word. My thoughts won't line up — they can't even form a sentence.
I'm scared… or I think I am. I honestly can't tell anymore.
Everything is so fucking twisted… layers of different things stacked and collapsing into each other, all mixed together to the point where you forget where the start even started…
or if it ever did.
On the way to school.
My mind can only form one question—
Why?
Why am I like this… around her?
Thought twists in my stomach, curling in on itself over and over… until there's nothing left of it.
The whole trip from my house to school, she hums—a tune I've never heard, yet somehow familiar. A hum that feels like fall rain—bittersweet and lonely.
She leads me to my locker, helps me change into my indoor shoes, then walks me toward the stairs.
….
We passed…The nurse's office.
Wait
My eyes snap to her instantly.
She's smiling—eyes squinting, cheeks slightly red.Like she's prepared for a thrill, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And somehow… I can sense it too
My heart thumps softly in my chest.I keep my eyes on the stairs as we climb them, one step at a time.
I'm—Weak.
Just like last time—
My body trembles—it somehow feels the invisible scars already forming…the ones that will soon become real.
We continue all the way to the fourth floor—a quiet hallway filled with seniors who don't care enough to look.
It feels like I'm being walked to my own execution—a prisoner guided by a quiet officer. We pass the seniors' classes, reach the end of the hallway, and stop at the room on the left.
And somehow…
I accept it.
There's nothing I can do—
SLIDE—
Mina pushes the door open, and my heart curls in on itself—already preparing for the worst.
Torture…?
Cutting me?
Dragging a blade across my wrist…?
Or even killing me—right here?
The thoughts crash into each other, fast, frantic.
The room is small.
A classroom—
no chairs—
looks like a club room.
Actually…
exactly like a club room.
A single desk sits against the wall, covered in paperwork.
One chair placed neatly in front of it.
She guides me toward it and helps me sit.
I stare at the floor, waiting…
Unsure.
My eyes follow her hands as she sorts through a first-aid kit,
waiting…
watching…
expecting something sharp to come out.
A knife?
I don't buy this act.
If you're going to do something—
just get it over with.
"There we go!" she says, giggling like she expects a reward.
She circles around me and rushes to remove my right shoe.
I swallow, heart racing.
She slides off my sock slowly. Her eyes widen… and widen even more as she gets closer to taking it off my foot—like she's staring at an art piece she bought at an auction.
Something precious.
Something only she's allowed to touch.
Electricity shoots up my leg. I wince. The moment her finger brushes my ankle, the pain spikes— sharp, burning— hurting ten times worse than before.
She notices immediately and looks up.
"Oh… poor Haru. I'm sorry."
She leans closer—her breath warm against my foot.
My heart skips.
Heat rushes up from my stomach to my chest, tightening everything inside me. It's faint… but unmistakable. A flicker of something I don't want to admit—
Her face reddens at my reaction—
Those eyes narrow, sharpening on me–
I watch her whole body start to tremble, like she's possessed by something she's been holding back.
"Oh, Haru… don't tell me you're— enjoying this?"
Her breath shifts—
heavier now, hot and shaky, brushing against my skin and making me flinch inside.
What… is she…?
WHAT IS SHE DOING—?
Her face moves closer to my foot—
too close.
Far, far too close.
Her mouth opens slightly— a wide "O," like she's about to do something I don't even want to imagine.
My body locks up completely. Everything inside me says this is wrong—
and yet…
I don't fight it. Not even a little.
She inches closer—
Footsteps.They stop.
"Mina?"A male voice outside.
We both jerk.
She pulls back quickly, still on her knees, her face a deep shade of red.
Heat floods my body as my foot hangs there in the air, lifted— exposed— like I'm being offered up to a beast.
"Yes!" Mina calls out, still kneeling, still staring at me.
I dart my eyes downward.
"Student Council needs you for a quick second," the boy says.
…
Mina freezes for a moment.
Her expression shifts—Sadness—like a puppy denied a treat.Then anger—Eyes wide—Frown sharp—A flash of something like death.
My heart jerks.
Then her expression resets—blank, neutral.
She sighs and stands.
Turns her back to me.
"I'll be back in a second," she says, disappointed.
She slides the door open and leaves.
Her footsteps fade.
I inhale sharply. Then exhale.
Every breath I'd been holding finally rushes out of me again—
like steam released the moment a boiling pot's lid is lifted.
What just—
I stop the thought.
I sit there for what feels like ten minutes, trying to force my mind to go blank—
to pretend this scene never existed.
My eyes wander to her desk.
Papers.Files.And—
A pink book at the edge.
What is that?
I scoot my chair closer.Lean over her desk.
Just a hardcover pink notebook.
Should I—
No.
But my eyes won't look away.
My hand reaches out.I pull it toward me.
The cover reads:
"Diary."
Shit.
Her diary.Mina's diary.
I shouldn't—
I can't—
I opened it anyway.
A random middle page.
And—
My heart drops.
A picture of me.Sleeping.In my room.Taken from inches away.
My pulse spikes.
How did—
How the fuck—
The photo sits in the center of a circle drawn in dark red—Not ink.Too thick.Too hardened.
Symbols surround it.Ones I don't recognize.
I lean in closer.
Below it—Text.Sloppy.Smudged.Some spots still wet.
My eyes strain to read it.
What…What is this?
A language I've never seen. The writing is the same dark, dried red.
…
"Haru."A low voice—cold—right beside my ear.
A hand clamps down on my right shoulder, squeezing tight.
"You're naughty, Haru," she murmurs.
Her tone…I can't tell if she's sad.Or mocking.
Body shaking.I turn around.
Slowly…Slowly…Slowly…
Her face—
Not smiling.Not even pretending.
Her eyes glow red.Bright.Unnatural.