The classroom felt suffocating, the air thick with an oppressive weight I couldn't ignore. It was the same world, the same reality I'd been trapped in countless times, but something was different this time—a sharp, gnawing feeling twisting in my gut.
Across the room, a figure moved, slipping toward the door with quiet, purposeful steps. My heart dropped as I realized who it was.
Another me.
He walked with a deadly calm, shoulders rigid, a faint glint in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine. The realization hit me hard: he was heading for the rooftop. And I knew, without a doubt, that he was going there to kill Piku.
My legs moved before I could think, carrying me out of the classroom and up the stairs. I reached the rooftop just as my other self—the twisted reflection of my own envy—pushed Piku up against the railing, his hands tight around Piku's collar. Piku's eyes were wide, confused, and a flicker of fear crossed his face.
"Stop it!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the empty rooftop.
The other me looked up, his grip on Piku tightening. He wore the same face, but his eyes were filled with a bitter rage, a resentment that simmered just beneath the surface. "You're too late," he sneered, his voice laced with a quiet fury. "This has to end, one way or another. You can't deny it forever."
Piku struggled, gasping, trying to pry his hands off. "Takeru, what are you…?"
My other self ignored him, his gaze fixed on me. "You know this is the only way. He has everything you want, everything you're denied. You feel it, don't you? The anger, the jealousy. Every time you see him laugh, every time he fits into a world that seems to reject you… you know he doesn't deserve it."
I felt a surge of anger rise up, my fists clenching. "That's not true. Piku's my friend. He's done nothing wrong."
"Friend?" The other Takeru scoffed, tightening his grip on Piku, who struggled against him. "You tell yourself that, but deep down, you're seething every time you look at him. You want what he has—the laughter, the acceptance. And yet, you stand here, lying to yourself while I do what you've wanted to do all along."
Piku's eyes darted between us, fear and confusion clouding his face. "Takeru… what's happening?"
I couldn't answer. My gaze locked with the other Takeru, the reflection of my envy and resentment in its rawest form. He was everything I kept buried, everything I denied.
But I couldn't let him go through with this. Not like this.
I lunged forward, grabbing him and pulling him away from Piku. We stumbled back, his eyes narrowing as he fought against me, his movements fueled by a twisted desperation. "You can't stop me," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "You're nothing without me. You need this darkness. Without me, you're just a hollow shell."
"Maybe I am," I said, feeling a strange, calm resolve settle over me. "Maybe I'm full of envy, maybe I hate that Piku has what I don't. But that doesn't mean I have to let it control me. I don't have to become you."
His gaze sharpened, a cold, mocking smile twisting his lips. "You're a fool. You can't deny me forever. I am you."
With a sudden surge of strength, I forced him back, pushing him toward the edge of the rooftop. He stumbled, and for a split second, his confident façade faltered, fear flickering in his eyes. Without hesitating, I drove forward, a final, desperate push, and watched as he stumbled backward, his grip slipping from the edge. He fell, his form fading into the shadows as he disappeared.
Silence settled over the rooftop, broken only by Piku's ragged breathing. I turned to face him, my hands shaking. The weight of what I'd just done settled over me—a strange mix of relief and sadness, knowing that I had confronted the darkest part of myself and stopped it from taking over.
Piku looked at me, eyes wide with confusion and fear. "Takeru… I don't understand."
I managed a shaky breath, the words heavy on my tongue. "I'm sorry, Piku. I… I've been jealous of you. Every time I see you, laughing, fitting in… there's a part of me that resents it. But you're my friend. I won't let my jealousy take that from me."
He stared at me, a hint of understanding softening his gaze. "You don't have to deal with this alone, you know. Whatever it is you're going through… I'm here."
For the first time, I felt a small, tentative warmth settle in my chest, a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, I could start to accept these feelings without letting them define me. I took a step back, the weight of my confession lifting, even as the remnants of envy lingered in the shadows of my mind.
But I knew now—I had the strength to face them. To face myself.