The rain hammered the cracked pavement like a relentless drum, each drop a cold reminder of the darkness settling deeper into Akihiro's bones. The streets blurred beneath his hood, but his eyes were sharp — searching.
Something glinted on the wet ground near the school fence. A knife. Small, but deadly. Cold metal kissed by the rain. It felt like it called to him, whispered promises in the shadows of his mind.
Akihiro bent, slipping the blade into the folds of his jacket, hidden where no one could see. The blade wasn't just a tool — it was an extension of the chaos inside him. His source of twisted enjoyment. Blood. His blood, their blood. Pain. Control.
The house loomed ahead, dark and silent. One window was left ajar — a crack in the fortress of his prison. Slipping inside was like stepping into a game of chess he'd been playing in his mind for weeks. Every move measured, every moment planned. Strategy in the silence.
In the living room, faint shadows marked his parents' shapes. His father's cheek still bore the harsh red imprint of their last confrontation, a reminder of broken dominance.
Akihiro crouched in the shadows, a predator stalking his prey.
His father rose and shuffled toward the bathroom. That was his moment.
Akihiro followed silently, heart hammering in a cold rhythm. He waited, hidden in the narrow space beyond sight.
Then, swift as a viper, he struck — hands wrapping around his father's chest, pulling him into darkness. The basement. Cold. Echoes of creaks and dripping water surrounded them like ghosts.
Akihiro's black and red aura flared, a burning tempest coiling around him. He pushed his power into his father, forcing regeneration even as he dealt pain—stab after stab, more than a hundred, a relentless barrage.
His father gasped, a ragged sound of disbelief and agony.
Akihiro's hands moved with cold precision — cutting vocal cords, silencing the lies and threats. His fingers found his father's eyes, tearing them free. He brought the mutilated flesh to his lips, consuming what should have been forbidden. His rage tasted bitter and intoxicating.
Limbs were broken, shredded, and bloodied. The cruelest finality came when Akihiro snipped his father's hair — a twisted mirror of the way his sister's life was stolen, her hair severed like a cruel trophy.
With a final, merciless stroke, the head was severed and left to rot, a silent monument to pain and retribution.
Akihiro wiped the blood from his hands and ascended the stairs.
In the living room, his mother's eyes snapped open.
"Where have you been?" Her voice was sharp, trembling with fear and fury.
Before she could move, a chair was hurled at him — a desperate weapon of defiance.
The chair sliced cleanly in two as it neared him, shattered by an invisible force. Her face paled, realization dawning too late.
Akihiro stepped forward, calm and unyielding.
She tried to scream but found herself rooted, paralyzed as if bound by an unseen chain.
Cold and methodical, Akihiro cut her in half — severing her cries forever.
With brutal finality, he threw her broken body into the basement alongside his father.
The house fell into a suffocating silence.
The rain was heavier now as Akihiro trudged back to his shelter behind the school. There, beneath the rusting metal and broken wood, sat Reika — her face streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
She hadn't seen him enter.
Her voice trembled as she looked up, noticing the blood and water soaking into his clothes.
"Akihiro… what happened? Why didn't you come to school today?"
He said nothing at first.
Then, in a voice raw and distant, he confessed.
"I killed them."
Her eyes widened, horror and disbelief frozen on her face.
"My bullies. My parents. So no one will ever find out. So no one will come for me."
Reika's lips parted, but no words came. She had never met anyone so cold, so broken — yet something inside her stirred, a fragile attempt to understand.
The world around them slowed and then stopped.
They were no longer in the shelter, but in the flower garden — the place where Akihiro first met Mei.
Time hung heavy, the air thick with unshed tears and whispered regrets.
A red spider lily sprouted between them, its petals unfurling, soaked in blood.
Akihiro's voice broke the silence.
"Do you accept me?"
"Accept me as a friend… as a part of your life?"
Reika's breath caught. Words tangled in her throat.
The flower bloomed, crimson and fierce, growing with each heartbeat.
Both fell to their knees as the world around them blurred.
Akihiro's hair began to turn white, slowly glowing like pale moonlight.
Reika reached out, trembling, unsure what to say or do.
Their eyes locked.
No promises. No judgments.
Just two fractured souls, bound in a moment suspended between darkness and fragile hope.
Akihiro whispered, "Stay… with me. Here, in this shelter."
And the world waited for her answer.