Sleep eluded me that night. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the faint echo of Piku's laughter. I couldn't shake the feeling that by sparing him, by choosing not to give in, I had shifted something. But if that was true, why did I feel like I was sinking deeper?
The clock blinked 2:37 a.m. when I heard a soft knock at my window. Heart pounding, I sat up, only to see her—the girl—standing outside, her silhouette faint in the pale moonlight. The shadows stretched across her face, masking her expression, but I could feel her gaze piercing me, even through the glass.
"What do you want?" I hissed, barely keeping my voice steady as I opened the window. The night air was frigid, biting against my skin.
She didn't answer right away, just stepped through the window and into my room, her presence chilling the air even further. Her eyes glinted in the dark, sharp and watchful. "You made a different choice today," she finally said, her voice laced with something like amusement.
"Yes," I replied cautiously, my fists clenching. "I didn't hurt him. I tried to change."
She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "And did it make a difference?"
The question hung heavy in the air. I wanted to say yes, to believe that I had taken a step forward. But I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that I was still trapped, still ensnared by this endless loop. I had spared Piku's life, yet nothing felt resolved.
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "What am I supposed to do? Every time I try to change, it's like... it doesn't matter. I can feel it, that same darkness, waiting to take over."
She let out a soft laugh, cold and hollow. "Did you think one choice would be enough to erase everything?"
I felt my anger flare. "Then tell me what you want from me! Why are you doing this?"
Her eyes narrowed, her face turning hard. "This isn't about me, Takeru. It's never been about me. I'm just here to remind you of what you already know—that you have to face what's inside you, or this will never end."
I took a step back, confusion and frustration swirling inside me. "What does that even mean? How am I supposed to face it if I don't even understand it?"
She reached out, placing a finger against my chest, right above my heart. "It's here, Takeru. This rage, this jealousy… it's you. You can't run from it or pretend it doesn't exist. Until you accept that, until you truly understand what drives you, you'll be trapped here forever."
Her words struck deep, stirring something within me that I didn't want to acknowledge. I stumbled back, my chest heaving as the weight of it pressed down on me. She wasn't telling me anything new. Somewhere, deep down, I had known it all along.
"So... what happens if I don't?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
She shrugged, her gaze unfeeling. "Then you'll keep losing pieces of yourself. Until there's nothing left but the monster inside."
Her words hung in the silence, sharp and unyielding. The girl stepped back toward the window, her silhouette once again merging with the shadows. But before she disappeared, she looked at me one last time.
"Next time, Takeru, try not to run. You might be surprised by what you find."
And with that, she was gone, vanishing into the night as if she'd never been there.
---
The days passed in a blur after that. I couldn't shake her words, couldn't escape the gnawing feeling that I was on the edge of something terrible. Every interaction with Piku felt like walking on glass, the memory of his blood on my hands still fresh, like a wound that wouldn't heal.
One afternoon, I found myself back on the rooftop, the place where it had all begun. The wind whipped around me, cold and relentless, and I closed my eyes, letting the sounds of the city fill the silence. I didn't know what I was looking for—an answer, maybe, or some sign that I could still be saved.
"Hey, Takeru."
I turned to see Piku standing in the doorway, his face lit up with that easy smile of his. He stepped onto the rooftop, looking at me with genuine warmth, like he'd done countless times before. But this time, something in me shifted, a flicker of realization sparking to life.
"Piku," I began, my voice unsteady. "Have you ever... felt like you're trapped? Like you're stuck, and no matter what you do, you can't escape?"
He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Everyone feels like that sometimes, don't they? I mean, I know I've had days where it feels like the same stuff just keeps happening over and over."
I nodded, a strange sense of relief flooding through me. I hadn't expected him to understand, but somehow, his words made the weight a little easier to bear. "I'm... sorry if I've been acting strange lately."
Piku chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. "It's alright, man. We all go through things. Just remember, you're not alone, okay?"
His words struck something deep within me, an ache that I hadn't realized was there. For a moment, I felt a surge of hope, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I could break free.
But then I felt it—the familiar darkness creeping in, twisting my thoughts, filling me with a bitter resentment. The voice inside me whispered, reminding me of all the things I could never be, all the ways Piku's life seemed so much brighter, so much better than mine.
"You're right," I muttered, my hands trembling. "I'm... I'm not alone."
But the rage was already taking over, the familiar urge clawing its way to the surface, stronger than ever. My heart pounded as I struggled to fight it, to keep control, but it was like trying to hold back a storm with my bare hands.
Piku turned away, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me, and the knife in my pocket felt heavier than ever.
No.
The word echoed in my mind, faint but resolute. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to take a step back, to breathe. The darkness surged, but I clung to the memory of Piku's smile, his kindness, the way he had always been there for me.
With a final, desperate effort, I turned and ran, leaving Piku standing on the rooftop, alone.
---
That night, as I lay in bed, drained and empty, I realized something. The darkness wasn't gone; it was still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, waiting for a moment of weakness. But for the first time, I had chosen to turn away. To walk a different path, if only for a moment.
I didn't know if it would be enough. I didn't know if I would be strong enough to keep resisting. But as I drifted off to sleep, the girl's words echoed in my mind, a faint glimmer of hope piercing the darkness.
"Try not to run."
I had spent so long fighting against the darkness, trying to deny it, to push it away. But maybe... maybe it was time to face it head-on.
As sleep claimed me, I felt a strange sense of calm, a small but steady ember of resolve flickering within me.
Tomorrow, I would try again.