I chose to stay.

As Kuro walked away into the city’s shadows, my feet remained rooted to the ground. It wasn’t fear that stopped me, but the warm hand that gently took mine.

"Thank you," Hikari said, as if my decision had been a gift.

Her palm was warm. Comforting.
Too much.

We walked together thru the square, and the sky seemed to clear ever so slightly, as if the twilight hesitated less when she was near. Hikari talked about simple things: a new café, a park hidden behind the station, a stray cat that always seemed to be waiting for her on the same corner.

"Here," he said suddenly. This is my favorite place.

It was a low hill from which you could see almost the entire city. The lights began to come on, one by one, like domesticated stars. I sat down beside her, feeling the cold grass beneath my fingers.

"You're always smiling," I commented without thinking.

Hikari blinked, surprised... and then laughed.

"Is that bad?"

"No," I replied quickly. It’s just that… it seems like you never let yourself be sad.

Silence fell between us, soft yet heavy. Hikari turned her gaze toward the city.

"If I stop smiling," she finally said. "Many things would break."

I didn't know what to say.

We spent more days together. Hikari was always there: when I got lost, when I doubted myself, when the memory of Kuro made me uneasy without knowing why. She made me sweet drinks, listened to me talk about my past without interrupting, and told me it was okay not to understand everything yet.

"You don't have to carry the bad things," She said. "I can do it for you."

One afternoon, as we walked arm in arm, I saw Kuro on the other side of the street. She was standing still, watching us. Her gaze met mine for only a second before she turned away with disdain.

I felt a knot in my chest.

"Does it bother you?" Hikari asked, squeezing my arm.

"I don't know," I admitted.

She smiled... but this time it didn’t reach her eyes.

"Don't listen to her," Hikari said. "The darkness only wants to drag you down with it."

That night I dreamed of a mirror.
In it, Hikari was smiling.
Behind her, something dark was pounding on the glass from the inside.

But upon waking, the warmth of Hikari beside me made the dream seem irrelevant.

"Maybe," I thought. "The light was sufficient."

Although a small, persistent part of me was beginning to wonder what was being pushed out of that light.

(Go to 2A when the light starts to burn.)