Night feels wrong.
Not dark.
Not quiet.
Just— wrong.
I walk beside Nari.
Our hands are still together.
Her fingers are warm.
Soft.
Real.
And she doesn't pull away this time.
Not even a little.
Nari: Are you okay?
Her voice is gentle.
Careful.
Like she's afraid the answer might break something.
Hana: I'm fine.
It's not a lie.
Not entirely.
Because right now—
I am.
Her grip tightens slightly.
Reassuring.
Nari: You did well today.
Something in my chest softens.
Just a little.
Hana: I almost didn't.
Nari: But you did.
She smiles.
Small.
Tired.
But real.
And for a moment— everything feels… quiet.
Not empty.
Not heavy.
Just still.
We reach her gate.
This time— she doesn't hesitate.
Nari: Goodnight, Hana.
She doesn't let go immediately.
Neither do I.
There's a pause.
A fragile one.
Then slowly… our hands separate.
But not like before.
Not out of fear.
Just… because we have to.
Nari: See you tomorrow.
Hana: Yeah.
I watch her walk inside.
And for a moment—
I feel it.
That warmth again.
That fragile, impossible thing.
Hope.
It fades the second I close my door.
The house is silent.
Too silent.
The kind that presses against my ears.
The kind that waits.
I don't turn on the light.
I don't need to.
I already know… she's there.
"You look happy."
Her voice comes from the dark.
Soft.
Almost amused.
I don't answer.
I walk past the mirror.
Slow.
Careful.
Like if I don't look… she won't exist.
"That feeling…"
A pause.
Then—
"How long do you think it will last?"
I stop.
Just for a second.
That's all she needs.
The surface shifts.
Drawing my eyes back.
Against my will.
She stands there.
Perfect.
Calm.
Smiling.
"One moment of kindness."
A step closer.
"One decision."
Her head tilts slightly.
"And you think everything is different now?"
Hana: I don't think that.
My voice is quiet.
But it holds.
She watches me.
Interested.
"Good."
A faint smile.
Sharper now.
"Because it isn't."
Silence stretches.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
"The world hasn't changed."
I don't respond.
Because I already know.
"People like him—"
A flicker.
The alley.
The fear.
"They don't stop."
Her voice lowers.
Softer.
More intimate.
"They wait."
My chest tightens.
"And next time…"
A pause.
Long enough to hurt.
"What if you're too late?"
Something twists inside me.
Ugly.
Cold.
Familiar.
Hana: I won't be.
The answer comes too quickly.
Too certain.
She smiles wider.
"You can't promise that."
Silence.
"But you can prevent it."
My breath falters.
Just slightly.
"You felt it today."
Her eyes lock onto mine.
Unblinking.
"That hesitation."
A whisper.
"That doubt."
My fingers curl slowly.
"It's still there."
Hana: It doesn't matter.
"It does."
Sharp.
Immediate.
"Because that hesitation comes from her."
Everything stops.
Hana: What?
the word barely leaves my mouth.
"Nari."
Her name lands softly.
Gently.
Like something precious.
"She's the reason you hesitate."
My heart stutters.
Hana: No.
Immediate.
Instinctive.
Wrong.
"She is."
Calm.
Certain.
Unshaken.
"You had the chance."
The alley flashes again.
The man.
My hand.
The moment—
"You knew what to do."
Her voice tightens.
Just slightly.
"And then she stopped you."
Hana: She helped.
The words feel weaker then they should.
"She limited you."
Silence.
"She makes you choose."
A step closer.
"When you don't need to."
My chest feels tight.
Too tight.
"Without her—"
A whisper.
Soft.
Deadly.
"There is no confusion."
The air turns cold.
Hana: Stop.
My voice cracks.
For the first time tonight.
She doesn't.
"No hesitation. No weakness. No doubt."
Each word lands heavier than the last.
"Just certainty."
I shake my head.
Slow.
Unsteady.
Hana: She's not—
My voice breaks.
Hana: She's not the problem.
The reflection watches me.
Quiet.
Then— she smiles.
Not amused.
Not pleased.
Something wrong.
Understanding.
"That's why it hurts, isn't it?"
My breath catches.
"If she were just anyone—"
A pause.
Gentle.
Cruel.
"This would be easy."
Something inside me cracks.
Not loudly.
Not violently.
But deep.
"But she isn't."
A step closer.
Now we're face to face.
Separated by nothing but glass.
"She's the one you want to protect."
My hands tremble.
"And she's the reason you can't."
Tears blur my vision.
I don't remember when they started.
Hana: No…
Barely a whisper.
"So tell me, Hana—"
Her voice softens.
Almost kind.
"What do you do…"
A pause.
Long.
Endless.
"When the thing you love—"
Her smile widens.
Just slightly.
"Becomes the thing that holds you back?"
My chest aches.
Sharp.
Unbearable.
Hana: I won't hurt her.
The words come out broken.
Desperate.
"I didn't say you would."
Silence.
Then—
"I said I could fix it."
Everything goes still.
Hana: Fix…?
Her eyes gleam.
Dark.
Certain.
"Remove the cause."
The words don't feel real.
They don't sound real.
And yet… they echo.
Louder.
Hana: No.
Immediate.
Terrified.
Furious.
Hana: No!
My hand slams against the mirror.
The surface ripples violently.
Her smile doesn't fade.
"You're angry."
Calm observation.
Nothing more.
"Good."
My breath comes fast now.
Uneven.
Shaking.
Hana: Don't say that again.
My voice trembles.
But not from fear.
From something dangerous.
"Why?"
Her head tilts.
Genuine curiosity.
"Because it's wrong?"
A pause.
Then—
"Or because it's impossible?"
That—
That makes something inside me snap.
Hana: She's not something to remove!
My voice breaks.
Shatters.
Hana: She's—
I stop.
Because I don't have the word.
Friend?
Anchor?
Light?
Something more?
Something I don't understand yet?
The reflection watches.
Patient.
Waiting.
"And yet—"
A whisper.
Soft.
Poisoned.
"You thought about it."
Silence.
Deafening.
My hands tremble harder.
Because—
For a second—
Just for a second—
The thought did exist.
And that's enough.
Hana: Get out of my head.
My voice drops.
Low.
Dangerous.
She smiles.
Satisfied.
"I am your head."
The room feels like it's closing in.
My chest tight.
Breath uneven.
Hana: I would rather—
I stop.
Because I don't know how to finish that sentence.
The reflection leans closer.
Eyes locked onto mine.
"Rather what?"
Silence.
Hana: I would rather suffer.
The words come out raw.
Unsteady.
Something flickers in her eyes.
Not gone.
But… shifting.
"Then suffer."
Soft.
Almost gentle.
She steps back.
Slowly.
Melting into the glass.
"But don't pretend this ends here."
Her voice fades.
"The choice will come again."
The mirror goes still.
Silent.
Empty.
But the words remain.
Louder than anything.
I sink to the floor.
My hands still shaking.
My chest still aching.
And in the middle of it all— one truth settles in.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
I don't want to hurt her.
I can't hurt her.
But for the first time—
I understand something worse than violence.
The possibility of it.
And that— terrifies me more than anything else.
Night doesn't end.
It stretches.
Twists.
Refuses to let go.
I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Eyes open.
Unblinking.
Sleep doesn't come.
Not even close.
Every time I close my eyes—
I see it.
Her face.
Her hand in mine.
That warmth.
And then— the mirror.
Her voice.
"Remove the cause."
My chest tightens.
I turn to my side.
Then the other.
The sheets feel wrong.
Too heavy.
Too old.
My mind won't stay still.
It keeps circling back.
Again.
Nari.
The way she held my hand.
The way she didn't pull away.
The way she said my name— like it mattered.
Something shifts inside me.
Soft.
Dangerous.
Unfamiliar.
Hana: What is this…?
The question doesn't leave my lips.
It stays inside.
Echoing.
It doesn't feel like friendship.
Not anymore.
Friendship doesn't make one's chest ache like this.
Doesn't make one's thoughts spiral.
Doesn't make one afraid— of losing someone who isn't even gone.
I press my hand against my chest.
My heart is uneven.
Too loud.
Too present.
Hana: This is wrong.
But it doesn't feel wrong.
That's the problem.
That's what makes it worse.
But now— the reflection's words don't just sound cruel.
They sound… logical.
And that thought alone makes me feel sick.
I sit up abruptly.
Breathing hard.
No. No. No.
Hana: She's just—
I stop.
Because I can't say it anymore.
Hana: Just a friend.
The words feel like a lie now.
A weak one.
A broken one.
Silence fills the room again.
But it's different now.
Heavier.
Because the confusion isn't outside anymore.
It's inside me.
And it's growing.
Morning comes.
Unwanted.
Unforgiving.
I didn't sleep.
Not really.
But I get up anyway.
Because I have to.
Normal things don't stop just because something inside me is breaking.
The mirror is quiet.
Too quiet.
I don't look at it.
I can't.
Not today.
The classroom feels the same.
Looks the same.
But I don't.
I notice it immediately.
Her.
Nari.
She's already there.
Talking.
Laughing.
Like nothing happened.
Like everything is fine.
And for a second—
I fee something sharp twist inside my chest.
Jealousy.
It comes out of nowhere.
Ugly.
Uninvited.
Because she looks… lighter.
Happier.
Like yesterday didn't leave a mark on her the way it did on me.
Hana: Nari.
She turns.
And then— she smiles.
Bright.
Easy.
Uncomplicated.
Nari: Hana!
She waves slightly.
Like always.
Like nothing has changed.
And that—
That hurts more than fear ever did.
Because for her— maybe nothing has changed.
I walk toward her slowly.
Each step feels heavier than it should.
Nari: You look tired.
Her voice softens.
Concerned.
Nari: Did you not sleep?
Hana: Something like that.
She frowns slightly.
Genuine.
Pure.
Nari: You should take care of yourself.
She says it so easily.
Like it's simple.
Like I'm not standing here trying to understand why her voice affects me this much.
I sit beside her.
Closer that yesterday.
Closer than I planned.
Our shoulders almost touch.
She doesn't move away.
Of course, she doesn't.
Why would she?
For her— this is normal.
Hana: You seem… happy.
The words slip out before I can stop them.
She blinks.
Surprised.
Then smile again.
Nari: I guess I am.
A small laugh.
Light.
Carefree.
Nari: Yesterday ended well, right?
Right.
The word echoes in my head.
Well.
For who?
For her— it's relief.
For me— it's something else entirely.
Something heavier.
Something I can't name without breaking it.
Hana: Yeah.
My voice is quieter now.
Distant.
Nari doesn't notice.
Or maybe she does— and chooses not to.
She starts talking about something else.
Classes.
Notes.
Normal things.
And I listen.
But not really.
Because I'm watching her.
Every expression.
Every movement.
Every small shift in her voice.
Trying to find something—
Anything— that proves she feels it to.
But there's nothing.
Just warmth.
Just kindness.
Just… friendship.
And suddenly— it feels suffocating.
Not because it's not enough.
And that thought—
That selfish, ugly thought makes something inside me twist violently.
Hana: Stop.
I whisper it under my breath.
Nari: Hmm?
She looks at me.
Confused.
I shake my head quickly.
Hana: Nothing.
But it's not nothing.
It's growing.
Spreading.
That quiet, creeping feeling— that I want something more.
And I don't even know what that "more" is.
Only that—
If it's not there—
It hurts.
By the time classes end I'm exhausted.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
Like I've been fighting something all day and losing.
We walk home again.
Side by side.
Like always.
Nari talks.
I listen.
Or pretend to.
Because my thoughts are louder than her voice now.
And then without thinking my hand brushes against hers.
Just slightly.
Accidental.
But not really.
She pauses for a second.
Then—
Gently—
She takes my hand.
Just like last night.
Natural.
Easy.
Uncomplicated.
And my heart betrays me again.
It tightens.
Warms.
Breaks.
All at once.
Nari: You're quiet today.
Hana: Am I?
Nari: A little.
She squeezes my hand lightly.
Reassuring.
Friendly.
That word again.
Friendly— it echoes louder now.
Mocking.
Because it's not what I feel.
Not anymore.
And she doesn't know.
She has no idea.
To her— this is comfort.
To me— this is confusion.
This is hope.
This is pain.
All tangled together.
Inseparable.
Dangerous.
I glance at her.
At her soft expression.
At the trust in her eyes.
And suddenly— the reflection's voice returns.
Faint.
But clear.
"She's the reason you hesitate."
My grip tightens slightly.
Nari: Hana?
Her voice shifts.
Concerned.
I loosen my hand immediately.
Hana: Sorry.
Nari: It's okay.
She smiles again.
Always smiling.
Always gentle.
Always— herself.
And that's when it hits me.
Not suddenly.
Not violently.
But quietly.
Like something settling into place.
She hasn't changed.
Not yesterday.
Not today.
Not at all.
The only one changing— is me.
And that realization is darker than anything the mirror has said.
Because it means the problem isn't her.
It never was.
It's me.
And yet even knowing that doesn't stop the thought.
The one I don't want.
The one I can't accept.
The one that's already taken root.
If she stays like this…
A pause.
A fracture.
I'll keep breaking.
My chest tightens again.
And now I understand what the reflection meant.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
But enough to be afraid.
Because now the idea doesn't feel impossible anymore.
Just— unthinkable.
And those two things… are not the same.