The day passed uneventfully, save for some talk concerning the science teacher of my glass dying.

This is the fourteenth time I’ve heard a variation of that same story. “I heard he collapsed,” “Someone saw an ambulance,” “He hasn’t shown up since last Thursday.”

I’ve fallen for these enough times to know better now.

At this point, I simply adapt.

A healthy layer of skepticism keeps me grounded.

_________________________________________

The walk home is quiet.

The streets are mostly empty– students are still stuck in club activities or taking their time. Unlike them, I don’t belong to any club. I just head home. Nap. Gym. Study. Repeat.

I turn the familiar corner.

The short number of students still left heading home are replaced by emptiness, the streets quiet and solemn.

Ah, that’s right, it’s snowing.

Guess I’ll die.

Chucking and shaking my head, I sigh.

Still, I keep walking, eyes drawn to the sky.

It falls gently, each flake slow and deliberate. The kind of snowfall that silences the world, painting it in soft whites and hushed tones.

I like snow.

Snow gives a feeling of comfort, of memories once long past.

The memories of being a child, making snow angels, throwing snowballs, and creating a snowman. Those memories are things we as humans share. A comforting feeling.

A feeling of comfort, something universal. That is what I adore.

An escape from an everyday environment, a once dark and dreary place, can be replaced with snow, turning it into a quiet, reflective place.

I continue walking.

Speaking of which…

Takeru missed school today. That’s strange. He’s the student council president — the type that prides himself on showing up even when he’s sick. Never absent. Not once.

Well, whatever. Right now I’m heading home.

When I reach the gate, a chill works its way up my spine.

No.

Not a chill — not a vague feeling.

An assurance.

Why is the front door open?

No. No no. Don’t jump to conclusions. She probably forgot to shut it again. Maybe she got into that hikikomori mode again — sprinted inside and left it wide open in a rush to cocoon herself under the kotatsu.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

I close the gate, shaking my head at her stupidity.

Entering the house, I sigh as I close the door.

The door creaks as I step in, and I let out a sigh, already speaking aloud without thinking:
“Aw, Cmon, there's snow inside-.”

My voice catches in my throat.

I almost choke.

Why is there an extra pair of shoes?

No, it’s gotta be a friend of hers. If I recall, she’s invited a ‘friend’ or two over. Although a majority of the time, it was them who wanted to get closer to her, rather than a mutual feeling, so the best term would be an acquaintance, given that Kairi had no friends.

I take off my shoes, stepping onto the cold floor.

The floor.

Why is it so cold?

Walking down the hallway, the quietness almost feels maddening, like I'm walking inside the mouth of a terrifying monster beyond human comprehension.

No hum from the heater. No rustling. No ambient sounds.

Just... stillness.

That’s when I see it.

A stain on the wall.

What is that?

Ah….

It’s blood.

Thud.

Its on the wall, dripping down slowly.

My stomach drops.

I don’t even think, no, I don't even register myself as a single entity, breaking into a sprint upstairs.

The hallway spins.

I’m running with so much vigor, I’m sure I’ve broken a nail slamming my feet against each individual stair.

“Kairi!!!”

My throat feels like it’s going to explode any second. The world is becoming darker, my vision is becoming more and more limited, just focusing on what's in front of me.

Please, god.

Please, let her be okay.

Please let her be in that same room, sitting, watching the screen.

I don’t want anything else, just that.

I practically trip, making my way over to her room.

I reach the door, hands soaked in sweat, slipping off the knob.

It’s locked.

“Fuck, fuck!”

I throw myself against it. Once. Twice.

My shoulder feels like it's going to crack any moment, but I don't care.

The sound of wood breaking gives me the reassurance I need that my efforts are working.

I back up.

Then charge.

Boom.

The door slams open.

My sense of smell.

It smells like iron.

Iron.

Why is there iron?

My sense of taste.

It tastes so bitter, like citrus. Or maybe sweat. I don’t know, I’m constantly swallowing.

My sense of touch.

There's a splinter in my hand. It burns, but I don’t care.

My sense of hearing.

There's the sound of an unfamiliar man, whimpering. No, not unfamiliar.

But I can't focus on anything else right now.

And my sense of sight.

What is in my sense of sight?

What I see—

What I see is—

T H E C O R P S E O F K A I R I F U R U K U W A


no
no no no no no
no no no no no no no no no
no
thats not
thats not real
shes not
she's not dead
this isn’t real
this isnt happening this isnt this isnt this cant be

kairi
hey
hey
get up

stop joking
cmon please

please kairi
get up get up get up get up get up get up get up
im begging you okay im
okay im gonna laugh if you sit up now just laugh just please
move your hand move anything

kairi
kairi

i
i don’t

i don’t understand
the gate was closed
the keys the doors
how did someone get in
how did how did this happen
you were here
you were safe
you were supposed to be safe

why arent you breathing
why arent you fucking breathing kairi

you said
you said you’d be here
you said you’d stay

no no no no no please

dont do this
dont leave
you cant leave you cant leave you cant leave you cant leave

just
just open your eyes

even a little
even a blink
move your fingers
please say my name
please say my name please say something

please

please god
i’ll do anything i swear i swear
take it back take me take anything just give her back just bring her back

please please please please please please please please please please please
please

“I-I-I didn’t do it.. I just wanted to..” Mr. Tendo stammers. His shirt is off, and his pants are down.

“She just did it to herself.. I didn’t mean..”

He’s crying.

My head turns to him.

I’ll kill him.

I’ll kill him.

“...”

I don't say a single word.

I just go silent.

And walk over to him.

There’s a second priority now.

Killing this bastard, no matter what it takes.

There's tears running down my face.

I lunge at him, and kill him.

….


That’s what I wished had happened.

Unfortunately, reality is never the way you intend it to be. That’s the thing about life. No matter how much you beg, it’ll never follow your script.

That's what I think after something sharp impales the side of my stomach. A jolt of electricity shoots through my body as it registers… Pain.

White-hot pain.

I stagger, barely catching myself. My breathing is increasing, I can't control it.

I look down.

There's a kitchen knife embedded in my side.

And hands—

Pushing it deeper.

Who else is in this?

What kind of sick freak would involve himself in this situation? Who would do something like this?

A boy.

A boy I know.

A boy I know named Takeru.

His expression is one of a panicked one.

“Ta-”

The blade is ripped out of me, and I scream — or try to. My body won’t respond. I reach for his arm, too slow, too weak, and—

Another stab.

Right into my solar plexus.

Blood pours down the front of my shirt. My white shirt. The one I wore this morning.

Now stained red.

I feel wet. Cold.

I can't struggle. It feels like I’m falling asleep.

Then, another stab..

I wake up, pain reaching into my brain, and I attempt to push him away, but he backs away, causing me to fall over.

“U-Uncle! Let’s go! I told you, I told you—!”

The rest of his dialogue drowns out.

What is he saying?

I can’t hear, just static, white noise.

The fucking bastard pulls up his pants and leaves, falling over, the sobbing mess he is.

Coward.

It’s just me now.

Me and the corpse.

Theres no one in this house any longer. Just one boy, death slowly inching closer to him.

I extend my hand.

Her face feels cold. Devoid of any life.

I can feel the folds in my face begin to scrunch as I begin to sob. Ugly, loud, and desperate.

Why me? Why do I have to go through this?

…No, there's still time. If I call the cops, I can get an ambulance here. Yes, that’s right.

I summon every ounce of energy in my body to get up.

Every nerve in my body screams. Blood seeps freely now. But I can take it. If it’s for something—anything—then I can take it.

I stagger towards the stairs.

Then my foot slips.

And I fall.

Pain explodes through my limbs as I tumble down.

I land on the cold ground in a broken, gasping heap. I feel like I can fall asleep here.

I turn onto my stomach, and begin to crawl, dragging my body across the floor towards the door.

My phone… it’s right there.

The door’s wide open, snow pouring into the room. This place that once had warmth is being swallowed by cold. 

I won’t let it.

I can’t let it.

I crawl.

My bloody hands smear across the screen. I’m clutching my side, feeling the warmth leave me, replaced by a dizzying cold. My vision fades in and out.

I need to stand up, or at least prop myself up.

I push myself, leaning on the frame of the door, trying to wipe off the blood on my screen.

I press the on button.

It doesn't turn on.

It’s dead.

Like Kairi.

Who am I kidding?

I knew she was dead. I just didn’t want to believe it. I kept pretending.

My breathing starts to slow down.

I find myself looking at the snow.

I hate responsilibites.

Because once you let go of one of them, or neglect even one, you’re punished. I hate responsibilities because you can't let go of them. You can't neglect them for even a second, or something like this happens. I hate reality. I hate the real world. I hate that anything can happen, whether you like it or not. I hate that I was even born here.

But…

At least there’s snow.

A comforting feeling.

Even if the world is dark and ugly— snow will cover it up, making it reflective and peacfeul.

I feel my phone slipping from my hand.

I’m falling asleep.

Well, I did sleep pretty late last night.

Maybe a quick nap won’t be bad.

The sound of it hitting the floor—
A neighbor screaming—

That’s the last thing I hear

Before I drift off

to sleep.