The sun hung high above us, casting long shadows across the empty rooftop. Piku walked ahead, arms stretched out as he took in the view. "Man, it's beautiful up here, isn't it?" he said, leaning over the edge, oblivious to the storm raging in my head.
I clenched my fists, trying to steady my shaking hands. The girl's voice echoed in my mind, mocking me, whispering that I'd never escape this darkness, that I'd never be free until I faced what I truly wanted.
"You know, Takeru," Piku said, turning around, "we should do this more often. Just you and me, no one else." He smiled at me, genuine and warm, as if he hadn't a single care in the world. As if he didn't see the dark thoughts swirling in my mind.
I tried to force a smile, but I could feel something boiling inside me, a deep, relentless anger clawing its way to the surface. He's perfect, the voice hissed. Everyone loves him. He's everything you could never be.
Piku noticed my silence and tilted his head. "Hey, you okay, man? You seem… off."
"I'm fine," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. But my hand drifted to my bag, where I knew the knife was waiting. The same knife I had used in the last timeline, the blade that had tasted his blood once before. My fingers wrapped around the handle, feeling the cold, reassuring weight.
"Takeru?" Piku's voice broke through my thoughts, filled with concern. "Are you really okay? I know things have been rough, but—"
"Why did you have to be so perfect?" The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. My grip tightened around the knife, my body moving on its own, driven by something darker than jealousy—something twisted and insatiable.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, a nervous laugh escaping him as he took a step back. His eyes searched mine, looking for some trace of the friend he thought he knew. But there was no turning back now.
"You're everything I'm not," I whispered, taking a step forward, the knife hidden behind my back. "You don't even have to try, and everyone adores you. You have the freedom I'll never have. You're living the life that I… that I can't."
Piku's face fell, confusion and fear clouding his eyes. "Takeru, you're scaring me. We're… we're best friends, remember?"
"Are we?" My voice sounded hollow, like it was coming from someone else entirely. I took another step, and Piku stumbled back, his foot catching on the ledge behind him. He looked down, realization dawning in his eyes. "You… you're not serious…"
I lunged forward, the knife flashing in the sunlight, and plunged it into his side. Piku's gasp echoed across the rooftop, his hand instinctively clutching the wound as he staggered back, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his uniform a deep crimson.
"Takeru… why?" His voice was barely a whisper, thick with pain.
For a moment, clarity returned, and I saw him as he really was—my best friend, the person who had stood by me, who had trusted me. My heart twisted, regret flooding through me. But it was too late. I had crossed the line, and there was no going back.
Piku's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the cold rooftop, his breaths shallow and labored. I sank to my knees beside him, my hands stained with his blood. "Piku… I… I'm sorry…"
He tried to speak, but only a pained, choked gasp escaped his lips. His hand reached out, trembling, as if trying to hold on to something—maybe to me, maybe to the life slipping away from him.
In his eyes, I saw the final flicker of trust, the last remnants of friendship fading as he looked at me one last time.
And then, he was gone.
---
The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of the city below. I stared down at Piku's still form, my hands coated in his blood, my mind numb. I had done it. I had killed him—again. The weight of it crushed me, filling me with a darkness so deep that I thought it would swallow me whole.
The door to the rooftop creaked open, and I turned to see her—the girl who had haunted me, the one who had pulled me into this endless nightmare. She stepped forward, her smile sharp and unforgiving.
"Well," she said, her voice dripping with mockery, "looks like you failed again."
I glared at her, my rage boiling over. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me?"
She shrugged, feigning innocence. "Me? I'm just here to watch, to see if you'll ever figure it out."
"Figure what out?" I spat, my voice cracking with desperation.
She knelt beside Piku's body, her fingers tracing the blood on the ground. "Maybe you need another chance," she mused. "Or maybe you'll keep repeating this, over and over, until you learn… or until there's nothing left of you."
I backed away, shaking my head. "No… I can't do this again. I can't keep… killing him…"
She smirked, rising to her feet. "That's up to you, Takeru. But remember this—every time you fail, you lose a piece of yourself. Eventually, you'll forget what you even wanted, and this cycle will be all that remains."
I opened my mouth to protest, but the world was already fading, dissolving into darkness as her laughter echoed around me. And then—
---
I was back in the classroom.
My heart pounded as I looked around, catching sight of Piku, alive once more, laughing with our classmates. The same laughter, the same smile.
And all I could do was watch, knowing that somewhere within me, the cycle was waiting, ready to begin again.