"Murderer." Piku points at me while lying in the ground, with blood all over his face and body.
I woke up, my heart pounding like it's gonna burst. It was a nightmare.
The next morning came with a hollow sense of dread. I felt as though every moment was borrowed time, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for me to slip. I avoided eye contact with Piku, terrified that even a glance would reveal the darkness inside me.
But Piku was as cheerful as ever, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. His laughter echoed through the halls, every joke and kind word striking a raw nerve. I couldn't understand why I felt on edge, as if my resolve to "make things right" wasn't enough to erase the darkness still clinging to me. It felt as if there was a part of me waiting—like the jealousy hadn't been destroyed but merely chained, biding its time.
I kept catching glimpses of her, the girl, lingering in the edges of my vision. In the library, in the hallway between classes, always smiling that knowing, haunting smile. She was always alone, it was as if I was the only one who knows her existence.
---
The third day after the "reset," Piku and I were walking home when he pulled me aside, grinning.
"Hey, I've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his tone suddenly serious. He hesitated, the easygoing mask slipping. "I… well, I got an offer to transfer to a school in Tokyo. They're interested in me for a sports program."
My heart stopped.
"You… you're leaving?" I stammered, trying to process his words.
"Not yet!" he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. "But I might, next year. It's still just an offer."
The room felt like it was spinning, memories of the rooftop flashing through my mind. His betrayal, his voice fading as life slipped away from him—hadn't he just wanted to go to Tokyo? And yet… the jealousy clawed at my chest again, pushing against the resolve I'd so desperately tried to strengthen. Why does he get everything so easily?
"Isn't that amazing?" he asked, excitement dancing in his eyes. I forced a smile, but the darker part of me only grew, whispering things I couldn't ignore.
He's always ahead of you. Always just a little better, always just out of reach…
I laughed, feeling the strain in my voice. "That's great, Piku," I managed, the words bitter on my tongue.
---
The girl's voice interrupted my thoughts that night, echoing from the shadows as I sat alone in my room. "So you're still hiding it, aren't you? Still pretending it doesn't bother you."
I turned, her dark silhouette visible by my window, eyes glinting with amusement.
"You again. How did you get in here?" I asked, fear mixed with frustration.
Her laugh was low and mocking. "You know the answer to that. I'm here because you're letting me be here. All that jealousy, all that hate—you're still hiding it, trying to cover it with excuses."
"Shut up," I growled, clenching my fists. "I'm trying to do better!"
"Oh, are you?" she sneered, stepping closer. "Or are you just hoping it'll go away on its own? This isn't a dream you can wake up from, Takeru. This is you."
She reached out, her cold hand brushing against my cheek, and for a second, I could feel Piku's blood on my hands again. I felt like vomiting.
"Maybe this time, you should ask yourself what you really want, instead of pretending you're some tragic hero."
I felt my heart pound in my chest, her words carving deep into my thoughts, fanning the jealousy I'd tried so hard to bury. Before I could respond, she vanished, leaving me alone in the dark room, Piku's laughter echoing in my memory.
---
The next day, Piku greeted me at the school gates, as cheerful as ever. But something had shifted. Each time he laughed, each time he mentioned Tokyo or his dreams, the jealousy gnawed at me, louder, angrier. I knew I was spiraling, but no matter how hard I fought it, I could feel myself slipping toward the edge.
As lunch approached, I knew one thing: I couldn't go to the rooftop. Not today, not ever again. But when the bell rang and everyone started filing out of the classroom, Piku turned to me with that same grin.
"Hey, Takeru, want to go eat up on the roof? Just us?"
The memory of that day came rushing back, the regret, the blood, his voice fading in my arms. I opened my mouth to refuse, but something held me back. A part of me—the dark, resentful part—wanted to see it happen all over again.
"Sure," I said, my voice cold.
As we walked together to the rooftop, I felt her presence beside me, a ghostly shadow, laughing softly as the door swung open, and we stepped into the sun.