Jacklin crouched in front of Renya.
The hospital lights above them flickered weakly, casting long, broken shadows across the wet concrete. Rain blew in sideways through the open exit, tapping against metal and glass, pooling around their feet.
Her knife caught the light.
A thin, perfect line of silver.
The reflection trembled slightly as rain struck the blade's surface, breaking the light into thin, fractured streaks.
It looked unreal.
Too clean for what it promised.
"So loud," she said softly, almost fondly. "You really care, don't you?"
She lifted the blade.
Renya froze.
He didn't scream.
Didn't move.
It was as if his body had decided that stillness was the only way to survive.
The sound of his crying cut off mid-breath — like his body had sensed something before his mind could understand it. His small chest hitched once and locked, tiny fingers curling inward, knuckles whitening.
My vision blurred.
"No—!" I gasped, the sound tearing itself apart as it left my throat. "Please—please don't—!"
The knife lowered.
Slowly.
Not threatening.
Not rushed.
It hovered just above his skin.
Not touching.
Close enough that I could see Renya's entire body tense, muscles pulling tight in instinctive fear, his breath stuttering in short, shallow pulls.
Jacklin tilted her head.
She wasn't watching him.
She was watching me.
Her eyes didn't blink.
Didn't soften.
They sharpened — not with cruelty, but with focus, like she was measuring the exact moment something inside me would break.
"Listen to him," she said softly.
Renya made a sound.
Sharp.
Broken.
A cry too small for the terror behind it.
Jacklin's grip tightened.
Then stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Something crossed her face.
Not pain.
Recognition.
Pure, helpless fear — brief, instinctive, unguarded.
My heart seized.
My vision burned.
She's hurting him.
I was sure of it.
"No—NO—!" My voice came out wrong — thin, fractured, barely louder than the rain. "STOP! PLEASE—!"
Renya cried harder now, full-bodied and desperate, his small frame trembling violently.
My body tried to move.
My muscles burned as if they were still obeying commands my body refused to execute.
Every instinct screamed forward.
Every nerve answered with silence.
Failed.
Move.
Nothing answered.
My arms shook uselessly against the ground, muscles spasming without strength. My legs were dead weight. I couldn't rise. I couldn't crawl. I couldn't even drag myself forward an inch.
Jacklin smiled faintly.
Then she pulled the knife away.
Like pain had been optional.
Like fear alone had been enough.
Clean.
Untouched.
But Renya was screaming now — full-throated, raw, the sound ripping from him as if something terrible had already happened.
And in my mind—
It had.
That sound—
That cry—
It tore straight through me.
It shattered me.
Jacklin withdrew the knife completely, as if she'd only been testing a theory.
I was helpless.
My body had already failed.
This was something else giving way.
Not muscle.
Not bone.
Something structural — something I'd built my entire life on without realizing it could fail.
Something inside my chest collapsed completely, like a structure giving up after carrying too much weight.
This can't be real.
This has to be a dream.
My mind rejected everything.
Images came instead.
Broken.
Unasked for.
My mother's tired smile as she wiped water from my hair, calling my name like nothing bad had ever existed.
My brother laughing, his wife beside him, their voices overlapping, careless and warm.
Renya's fingers wrapped around mine — small, trusting, holding tight.
The pool wall under my palm.
The moment before the signal.
Who I was.
And then—
Everything tearing away at once.
I failed you.
I couldn't protect my brother.
I couldn't protect my mother.
I couldn't protect my sister-in-law.
Tears poured down my face, hot and uncontrollable.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to no one.
"To all of you… I'm sorry."
My heartbeat thundered violently in my chest.
Too fast.
Too loud.
My blood felt like it was boiling inside my veins, pressure building with nowhere to go.
Reality began to feel thin.
Like fabric stretched too tight.
My vision burned.
Edges of the world wavered, colors bleeding into one another, rain streaks smearing into lines that didn't stay put.
I don't know what's happening to me.
My body felt distant — like it belonged to someone else. My limbs were heavy, numb, but something deeper was moving, shifting on its own.
I wasn't moving.
But something was.
Renya cried again.
That sound—
It tore through everything.
I didn't think.
There was no space left for thought.
My breath stuttered.
My heart slammed once—
Then the world blinked.
Not slowed.
Not stopped.
Skipped.
My heartbeat missed.
Just one.
The world fractured sideways.
My stomach lurched violently, like gravity had lost its reference point.
The rain blurred into silver lines that bent the wrong way.
Sound lagged behind sight, like thunder arriving after lightning. Rain fell, but I heard it late. The ground existed, but I felt it a moment after my weight should have landed.
Reality folded.
My body shook violently.
"I don't know what's happening," I whispered, voice trembling, unrecognizable even to me. "But… I have to save him."
The sword was in my hand.
I didn't remember reaching for it.
This time, it felt warm.
Alive.
The neon-blue veins flared brightly, pulsing in time with my heartbeat — not steady, not controlled, but desperate and fast.
For a fraction of a second, everything went silent.
Something unseen pressed against my senses — not a voice, not a presence, but a pressure, like reality holding its breath around me. The air felt wrong, too tight, as if the world itself was bracing. I felt watched — not by someone, but by everything.
No rain.
No screaming.
No pain.
Just nothing.
The world feels slow.
Thick.
Like I was moving through the inside of a held breath.
Then—
Something collapsed inward.
Not outward.
In.
Like reality inhaling too sharply.
I was standing.
Then—
My feet touched ground that felt wrong.
Too solid.
Too sudden.
I felt it before I heard it.
Something had gone wrong.
Very wrong.
Jacklin was in front of me—
No.
I was behind her.
Not a step.
Not a jump.
There was no memory of movement — only the certainty that space itself had rearranged to put me here.
So close I could smell rain in her hair, the faint trace of soap beneath it.
Jacklin's hand was empty.
She stared at it.
Her body stiffened.
"What—?"
She turned slowly.
Her eyes widened.
For the first time—
She looked afraid.
Not of pain.
Not of death.
Of contradiction.
Of something happening that should not have been possible — and yet had.
Her hand, still holding the knife, trembled slightly — not from fear of me, but from witnessing something that violated the rules she had been relying on.
Her gaze flicked to me.
Not to Renya.
To me.
As if I was the problem now.
I stood there, soaked in rain and blood, Renya pressed tightly against my chest. His small body shook violently, arms clutched around me, fingers buried in my shirt.
My own body trembled uncontrollably.
"I… I don't know what's happening," I whispered, voice breaking.
"But I'm not letting you touch him again."
The sword hummed softly in my other hand.
Warm.
Alive.
Jacklin took a step back.
I didn't understand how I got there.
I didn't choose it.
The world moved for me.
And for the first time,
I understood something without words.
This wasn't speed.
This wasn't strength.
This was reality choosing.
✦ End of Chapter 12 — Cut Deeper ✦