“So…you killed someone before?” Amara asked, her voice trembling.
Shun chuckled, a bitter, joyless sound. “Multiple,” he said, the word hanging heavy in the air.
Amara's heart raced, her fear mixing with morbid curiosity. “Who?” she asked again, unable to stop herself.
Shun's eyes grew distant, his voice taking on a haunted tone. “When I was a kid, one of my mother’s coworkers...he used to molest me. He thought he could get away with it because I was just a kid, and no one would believe me.” His face twisted with remembered pain. “One night, I waited for him. I knew his routine. When he walked through the dimly lit alleyways near our place, I...I stabbed him. Over and over until he stopped moving. I framed our neighbour for his death, who was also a molester herself. Serves her right for always flaunting her bare chest in front of my child self.”
Amara gasped, her mind reeling. She had suspected something dark, but this was far beyond anything she had imagined. Shun’s voice was a monotone, as if he was reciting a grim story rather than his own life.
“There was also a school principal,” he continued, his voice empty. “He did the same thing. He had been touching me secretly whenever he had the chance. One day, at the gym, he came, he ripped my shirt and was about to pull down my pants. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I strangled him with a jumping rope. He never saw it coming. I made sure of that. His untimely death was then ruled out as suicide, courtesy of my so-called relative who had been helping me cover up my mess, so I wouldn’t taint their so-called family image. Convenient, ‘cause I didn’t want to deal with the law,” he chuckles, although bitterly, “and it’s not like they would’ve believed me. Trust me, I tried reporting the molesters multiple times to the police, but they didn’t believe me.”
Amara’s eyes widened, horror and sadness swirling within her. She reached out, placing a trembling hand on his arm. “Shun, I—I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t know.”
He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Of course, you didn’t. I buried it all deep down, tried to forget. But it’s always there, lurking in the shadows, ready to drag me back.”
He closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face. “I thought I could start over, live a normal life. But every time I think I’m free, something pulls me back. Cercis was the only bright spot, the only person who made me feel like I could be better. But now…now I’ve ruined that too.”
Amara squeezed his arm, her own eyes filled with tears. “Shun, you’re not alone in this. We can get you help. We can find a way to deal with this.”
He looked at her, desperation and hope mingling in his gaze. “Help? What kind of help is there for someone like me?”
“You mean someone who was hurt, deeply hurt, and didn’t know how to cope?” she asked firmly. “Shun, listen to me. You can still find a way forward.”
Shun's head lolled to the side as he continued to mumble, his words tumbling out in a drunken haze. Amara stayed close, her hand still resting on his arm, listening intently despite the turmoil in her heart.
“Jerry…that damn rat,” Shun muttered, his eyes unfocused. “I want to pulverise him. But Cercis…she’d hate me for it. She’d never forgive me.”
Amara’s grip tightened, her mind racing. “Shun, you can’t solve anything by hurting someone. It won’t bring you peace.”
“Oh, it absolutely does. Those monsters I harmed before? Their deaths gave me a brief sense of peace.” He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “But do you know what I truly want? I want someone—someone specific—who can give me eternal peace. I want Cercis. Only Cercis. I love her, Amara. Call it obsession if you want, and yes, I am obsessed. I always have been. But I love her, and I need her. She’s the only one who keeps me moving forward.
“But…” His gaze turned inward, lost in his memories. “Cercis, she might have turned me into a character in her novel… Giovanni. You know him, right? The tortured soul who did terrible things because he thought he had no other choice. Giovanni is me. What happened to him…happened to me. What he did, I did. I don’t understand why Cercis made me the villain in her novel. Maybe, deep down, she secretly hates me, and the very thought of that feels like being stabbed in the chest a thousand times over.”
Amara’s eyes widened. She had read Cercis’s unfinished novel, knew the dark, complex character of Giovanni. The parallels are chilling. “Shun, Giovanni is just a fictional character. You’re a real person, capable of choosing a different path than his.”
Shun shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes I wonder…what if Cercis knew what I did? Is that why she kept pushing me away all those years? Is that why she modeled the antagonist in her novel after me?” He chuckled darkly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe she already knows. Maybe that’s why she’s so drawn to Giovanni. Maybe she’s drawn to the darkness in me. Perhaps I, like those I have harmed in the past and like Giovanni, am a monster concealed behind a pure—beautiful façade.”
Amara felt a chill run down her spine. “Shun, you’re not a monster. You’re a person who’s been through unimaginable pain. But you don’t have to let it define you.”
His eyes flickered with a brief moment of clarity. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right. But the ugly truth…it’s always there, Amara. It’s always pulling me back.”
She leaned in closer, her voice firm. “You can fight it, Shun. You can choose a different path. Cercis wouldn’t want you to do something you’d regret. She wouldn’t want you to become like Giovanni, would she?”
Amara stayed close to Shun, watching as his eyes drifted between focus and fog, his breathing gradually calming under her reassuring presence. She knows she needs to steer the conversation, to give him something to look forward to, something to pull him out of his despair.
“Shun,” she said softly, her hand still resting on his arm. “There’s a party in a few days. It’s a joint event hosted by our company and our collaborative partners.”
Shun looked at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “A party?” he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief.
“Yeah,” Amara continued, her tone lightening. “It’s going to be a big deal. You’re one of the main featured models, so a lot of people are expecting you to be there.”
He shook his head, a weary sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t know, Amara. I can’t face people right now. I’m a mess.”
Amara squeezed his arm gently. “I understand, but this could be good for you. You need to get out of here, be around people who care about you. Plus, there’s a good chance Cercis will be there.”
Shun’s eyes flickered with interest at the mention of Cercis, but then clouded with doubt. “Cercis… I want to see her, but not like this. I don’t want her to see me like this.”
Amara nodded, understanding his hesitation. “I get it, Shun. But maybe seeing her will help you remember why you’re fighting, why you’re trying to get better. And besides, there’s another reason you might want to go.”
He looked at her, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”
“Jerry might be there,” Amara said, her voice steady. “I know you’re worried about him and Cercis. If you’re there, you can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t try anything. But, don’t let violence take over you.”
Shun’s jaw tightened at the mention of Jerry, a spark of determination flaring in his eyes. “If that rat is going to be there, I must be there as well—to protect Cercis.”
Amara smiled softly. “Exactly. You can be there for her, and for yourself. It’s a chance to take a step forward, to start reclaiming your life.”
Shun took a deep breath, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He wants to see Cercis, to protect her, to start moving away from the darkness that had consumed him for so long. But the fear of facing everyone, of being seen in his current state, is almost paralyzing.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” he admitted, his voice trembling.
“You can,” Amara said firmly. “And I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”
Shun looked at her, seeing the unwavering support and determination in her eyes. For the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of hope, a possibility that he could begin to turn his life around.
“Alright,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go...”
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