Seik Yagami waited for the bus with his elbows resting on his knees and his gaze lost on the cracked ground. Under the artificial light, his skin appeared even paler, highlighting the exhaustion in his sunken eyes.
That bus didn't just transport him; it also chained him. It dragged him back every night to a suffocating routine: endless days in an office, without rest. He had multiple master's degrees in psychology, business, and education, as well as years of karate training. And yet, his life had been reduced to a cycle without purpose.
Only when cultivating did he feel truly alive. The soil between his fingers, the scent of new leaves, the slow dance of growth. But that was out of his reach. Or, perhaps, he had convinced himself that it was.
He sighed and clicked his tongue.
At twenty-eight, I still don't know what I want to do with my life. I avoided this question for so long that now it overwhelms me.
The night air had a metallic scent, like distant rain. When the bus appeared at the end of the street, its headlights lit up the sidewalk with a faint glow. The streetlights flickered weakly, as if they might go out at any moment.
The gray buildings, the worn-out asphalt, the lifeless faces… Everything reflected the emptiness he felt.
People, absorbed in their screens, barely noticed the presence of their own children. Cars sped by as if they, too, had no clear destination.
The bus stopped with a screech that scratched the silence of the night. Seik boarded without hurrying, feeling an invisible pressure in his chest.
The interior was suffocating, as if the air were trapped between those worn walls. But no one seemed to notice.
He slumped into the back seat and opened the window. He took a deep breath, but the air still felt insufficient. His pulse throbbed in his temples.
What's happening to me?
The bus started, and almost without wanting to, their eyes drifted toward the street. Then, time seemed to stop.
There, standing in the station, there was a black figure.
Motionless.
It was not a shadow nor a reflection.
It was real.
Something that shouldn't be there.
His heart stopped for a second. The figure had no face. He couldn't see it clearly, but he was sure: it was watching him.
It blinked. And disappeared.
Suddenly, everything snapped back to normality with a whip-like jolt. Seik sat up straight, his breath ragged, and looked around, searching for any sign that someone else had seen her. But the passengers remained trapped in their damned phones, indifferent to everything.
The bus braked abruptly, and a loud noise shook the vehicle. Seik gripped the backrest of the seat in front of him. His heart pounded forcefully.
But no one screamed. No reaction.
The engine remained running, but the bus did not move forward.
He swallowed saliva and stood up cautiously. Each step toward the driver's cabin felt heavier. A low-pitched hum vibrated in the air, as if the bus were breathing… or whispering something unintelligible.
He looked out of the corner of his eye at the passengers.
They didn't blink. They didn't breathe.
The light from their screens illuminated their expressionless faces, as if looking away from their cell phones meant the end of their lives.
When he reached the front, the air felt denser. A shiver ran down his back.
The driver's seat… was empty.
No. It couldn't be.
An icy void settled in his stomach.
The steering wheel turned on its own. As if an invisible hand were guiding it.
Seik took a step back. His legs were shaking.
And then, he saw it.
In the reflection of the windshield.
The black figure.
Was behind him.
Seik turned abruptly. Nothing.
He took a step back and turned again. Then, the pain pierced through him.
A searing burn scorched his insides.
He looked down. First, the red. Then, the understanding.
His abdomen was soaked with blood
In front of him, the silhouette was still there. Blurred. Vibrant. As if its very existence trembled in the air.
Seik gripped the dagger embedded in his body. With the last remnants of strength, he drove it deeper into his flesh and stretched out his left arm, seeking the silhouette's neck. But he only found emptiness. Transparent air.
He looked around. Everyone was still on their phones, indifferent.
The silhouette yanked the dagger with a jerk. Seik fell to his knees with a thud. His breath grew heavy. He raised a hand, trying to touch the thing, searching for something tangible. But as soon as his fingers touched the void, the silhouette ceased to exist.
He didn't cry. He didn't make any gesture of pain. He just stared. As if it didn't belong to him.
The black figure turned around and vanished before his eyes.
Seik remained there, on his knees, with the blood soaking his clothes.
Hurts.
Perhaps I thought that, if I created a cognitive distortion, I could forget what I really am. But life hits you with an absurd brutality.
What was that thing supposed to be?
My life is monotonous. Boring. Without goals. And I know it's because of my emotions... or their absence. I am not capable of feeling.
And yet, here I am, on my knees, while people ignore me.
Have people become so ignorant?
I don't know. Right now, I don't want to think. I just want to sleep.
I think what bothers me the most… No. I can't get upset.
But I think what would bother me the most is not feeling bothered.
Perhaps the real monster wasn't that shadow. Perhaps, the most human thing here... was that thing.
He did what humanity does best.
Kill.
Seik, lying on the ground, slowly closed his eyelids. His eyes, once sunken from exhaustion, finally rested.
The bus resumed its journey. Some passengers cast fleeting glances at the body, with disdain. Others barely noticed it, as if stopping to help would be a waste of time.
The bus disappeared into the distance, taking its passengers with it. Like cold stars: visible, but unreachable.