Akari woke up, but not as herself. Once again, she was Lior—caught in a cycle she couldn't escape. The familiar pain of loss washed over her, an aching emptiness that gnawed at her chest. She didn't understand why it kept happening.
Everything felt different now. Her thoughts were jumbled, her body still recovering from the trauma of what had just happened—losing Kuro, losing everything. She could remember every moment, every glance, every word exchanged, and yet, it all felt distant, as if she were living someone else's life.
Why was this happening? Was she fated to keep living through this pain, this cycle of love and loss? Was there no end to it? No way to break free?
The memories of Kuro, of Arnold, of everything that had come before, flooded her mind, and yet the ache only grew. Was this all part of some cruel fate? Was it even real? The questions spiraled, and the answers felt just out of reach, like whispers on the wind that would never quite reach her ears.
In this new life, the world seemed so different. But it didn't matter. The pain was still there. And as Lior, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever truly escape it.
Akari found herself trapped in an unbendable cycle, once again living through the life of Kuro. This time, however, it was different—Kuro's life was not the same as it had been before.
When she woke, the world around her was familiar yet strange. She was in Kuro's body again, but it felt detached, like she was watching from a distance. The memories of his first life flooded her mind: being the son of a duke, being placed in the cocoon-like flower where angels developed their wings and knowledge, the same long, agonizing slumber that shaped him into who he was meant to be. Yet, in this life, things were different.
Kuro's mother died at his birth, and his father, devastated by the loss, became distant and neglectful. He had no one to care for him, no one to guide him. Left alone in the world, Kuro grew up with a deep emptiness, something twisted and dark taking root within him. His sadness turned into something much more dangerous—sadistic and psychopathic tendencies began to show, and Akari knew what was coming.
She couldn't intervene. She had learned her lesson the hard way. Every time she tried to help, every time she tried to steer things in the right direction, it only led to more pain, more loss. Akari knew this would only end in death once again.
When Kuro turned five, just like in his previous life, he discovered her existence. He felt her presence deep inside, searching for a way to reach her soul chamber, to uncover the truth about her. But Akari, knowing the consequences, blocked him from reaching her.
She had no choice. No matter how much it hurt, she couldn't let him in. The cycle had to play out as it always did. She could only watch helplessly, trapped within the inevitable path that life had set for them.
It was the only way to keep him safe, or at least, to prevent him from ending up dead like before. Akari's heart ached as she stood back, helplessly watching Kuro grow, knowing that in the end, it would all come crashing down again.
Kuro, with his newfound awareness of the being inside Akari, felt the barriers she had erected around her soul. He could feel her presence, but it was distant, unreachable—an invisible wall that kept him from truly understanding her.
"So even you don't like me," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "Haha, look like I'm just despicable, huh?" His words were sharp, tinged with the self-loathing that had taken root in him over the years. He couldn't understand why Akari, the one person who had always been a part of his life, would push him away.
Kuro's laughter was hollow, echoing in the silence of his mind. The thought of being rejected by the only constant presence in his life, the only one who had ever truly been there, cut deeper than anything he could have imagined.
"Fine, if you think I'm not worth it... then maybe you're right," he muttered, turning away from the mental space where he could feel her. "Maybe I am just a monster. After all, I've never been anything else."
Yet, even as he spoke the words, a part of him still longed to break through, to reach her, to understand why she blocked him out. But deep down, he knew the truth—Akari had her reasons. And perhaps those reasons were more painful than he could bear to know.
Kuro's power grew exponentially as his mind fractured further into madness. He discovered the ability to summon the souls of the dead, twisted remnants of those who had perished before him. These souls were not just lifeless entities-they could be controlled like puppets, their wills bending to his command. The toll on his psyche deepened with every soul he enslaved, but the power it granted him made him feel invincible. With this newfound strength, he could raise the dead-two souls at a time-and use them as instruments of terror, as extensions of his own wrath.
But there was more. Every time he killed someone, he could feel the presence of the being inside him-the presence of Akari-react. It wasn't just the pain of his actions that affected her; it was something deeper, a bond that stretched across their intertwined fates. The more people he slaughtered, the more her agony grew, as though her very soul was tied to each life lost.
brought him a twisted satisfaction, but it also brought the cruel realization that Akari was in pain, perhaps more so than he had ever been. He could feel her suffering within himself-a quiet, aching presence that swelled with each life he took. But instead of halting his killings, he began to relish the pain he caused her. He grew obsessed with it. The pain of that being-Akari-became his drug, and every death fed into that addiction.
It wasn't until he killed his father, the very man who had neglected him and let him grow into a monster, that Kuro fully understood the depth of the bond they shared. The moment his father's life was snuffed out, he felt Akari's agony peak. It was excruciating, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain that made his hands shake. Her suffering was unbearable to him in that moment, and he knew she was feeling it as much as he was. Yet, he couldn't stop. No, he only sought more. The more he tortured her soul, the more he felt alive.
Kuro's next victims were Arnold's big brother, the king, and finally, Arnold's younger sister. Each one brought a deeper agony to Akari's soul. With every life he ended, he could feel her pain intensifying, like a fire burning him from the inside. Akari' s soul seemed to cry out with each passing life, but Kuro couldn't-or perhaps wouldn' t-stop. His own torment, his self-loathing, his hunger for more control, consumed him.
And yet, in his heart, a twisted part of him knew-knew that Akari felt the death of each person, that her agony,however distant, was an echo of what he was doing to her. Still, he couldn't stop himself. The cycle of destruction and pain continued, both for him and for Akari. The more he killed, the more he felt powerful, and the more he tortured Akari through his actions, the more he understood the depths of his brokenness.
In his twisted mind, the pain of killing, the suffering of his soul, was now the only way he could make her feel the torment he had carried with him all his life.
The throne room was drenched in blood, the air thick with the metallic stench of death. Kuro sat on the bloodstained throne, his face expressionless, though his eyes flickered with a dark, twisted joy. He had done it. He had killed them all—the king, the nobles, the people who dared stand in his way. His kingdom was in ruins, and yet, he felt nothing but an empty, hollow satisfaction. His father's death had left him with nothing but an insatiable hunger for destruction, and with each life he took, that hunger grew.
In front of him, Arnold lay bound, a pitiful figure on the cold stone floor. Kuro's gaze was cold and indifferent, his mind more focused on something else—someone else. The being inside him, the one who refused to acknowledge his existence, who refused to stay by his side, was the only thing that kept him from fully embracing the madness. He had tried everything to reach her, to make her acknowledge him, but she wouldn't answer.
"Will you come out, or should I kill him too?" Kuro's voice was laced with venom, his fingers idly tracing the hilt of a bloodied dagger as he spoke.
Arnold, despite the agony he was in, tried to lift his head. "Who are you talking to, you madman? What did any of us do to you?" His voice was shaking, fear evident in his eyes. But Kuro was beyond caring for such questions. The only thing he cared about was the one who tormented him, the one who refused to show herself.
Kuro's lips curled into a sadistic smile, a cruel laugh escaping from his throat. "I've waited so long for this... to see you, to make you feel what I've felt all these years." His eyes darkened with madness. He was ready. Ready to break her, to make her feel the same torment he had endured. "I'll make you come out, even if it kills him."
But before the dagger could fly, something shifted. The air seemed to thicken, and in a sudden rush, the very being Kuro had been waiting for appeared before him. She was here. She had come.
Akari's voice echoed in the room, breaking through the chaos like a blade of light. "Stop it, Kuro. I beg you."
Kuro froze, the dagger slipping from his hand as his eyes widened. There she was. There she finally was. Standing before him, as if nothing had changed, her eyes filled with the same sorrow he had carried all this time. She had come out of the depths of his soul, the place where he had locked her away.
A twisted laugh escaped his lips, his breath heavy with both anger and a sick sense of satisfaction. "Hahahahaha! At last, you come out!" His hand trembled as he reached for her, fingers brushing against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. "You don't know how long I've waited for this moment."
Akari's heart raced, but she didn't flinch. She had seen this version of Kuro before, the one who was consumed by his hatred, the one who had fallen into madness. She had never thought she'd have to face him like this again. Her voice was steady, but her heart shattered as she looked at him. "Kuro… please."
But Kuro was far beyond reason now. His fingers tightened around her face, forcing her to look into his wild eyes. "Why didn't you stay by my side?" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "If you had stayed, I wouldn't have become like this! I wouldn't have had to kill them all!"
His gaze was filled with a sickening combination of fury and obsession. "You left me to rot. You abandoned me." His grip on her face tightened, his voice rising with each word. "And now look at what you've made me become."
Akari's heart twisted as she realized the depth of his madness. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. He didn't even see the man he used to be, the boy who had once cared. The boy who had once loved her. All that remained was this broken shell, this monster who could only feel the rush of death and destruction.
"You think I left you?" Akari whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I never left you, Kuro. I was always here. But you... you turned away from everything that could have saved you."
Kuro's eyes flickered with a flash of something—pain, perhaps, or regret. But before he could speak, his voice became bitter and cold again. "No, you didn't stay. And I've done things… terrible things, because of that." His lips curled into a twisted smile. "But that's okay. Because every life I take, every scream I hear, I feel you inside me, Akari. I feel you suffer. And that's all I need."
Akari's breath caught in her throat. He had become a monster not just because of his pain, but because he had somehow twisted it into a form of sadistic pleasure. Every person he killed, every life he took, was just another way to hurt her. To hurt the being that had once been inside him, that he could no longer reach.
"You think I kill for fun?" Kuro's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I kill because it hurts you. It makes you feel the pain I've felt. It makes you regret not staying by my side. And the more I kill, the more I feel like I'm reaching you. I see your face every time I do."
Akari's face paled, and her stomach churned with the weight of his words. He was no longer a man; he was a broken thing, obsessed with making her suffer. Every life he took, every soul he controlled, was just another way to torment her.
"You... you don't have to do this, Kuro," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You don't have to keep killing. This isn't the way."
But Kuro only shook his head, his eyes gleaming with psychotic delight. "You still don't get it, do you? Every time I kill, I see your pain. And that's all I need to know that you're still here. That you're still with me."
With a sudden, swift movement, Kuro yanked her closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'll make you stay. I'll make you feel everything. You will stay with me... forever."
Akari closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer. The man she had once known was gone, replaced by this broken monster who only sought to make her as miserable as he was. The room, once filled with hope, was now a tomb—a tomb for the love they had once shared.
Kuro stared at her, his fingers still gripping her face, and for the briefest moment, something flickered in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the darkness he had embraced.
"You'll stay with me, Akari," he whispered again, his voice more to himself than to her. "You'll stay."