The night felt cruel.
The air was heavy, as though every breath he drew was stolen from him.
Ren stumbled back and forth across the narrow balcony, his chest rising and falling like a storm-tossed sea.
His hands trembled, his lips quivered, and his thoughts clamped around his throat like an invisible rope.
"I can't breathe… .do I even deserve to?"
The words slipped out of him, fragile and broken.
His heart pounded, not like a living thing, but like a bomb waiting to explode.
He pressed his back against the railing and looked up.
The moon stared down at him, silent, distant, uncaring.
How many nights had he stood here, phone pressed to his ear, her laughter spilling into the quiet as though it were made only for him?
He remembered the way she used to whisper, "Look at the moon, Ren… I'm looking too. It's like we're together."
Back then, the moon had been their bridge, their secret lantern in the dark.
Now it mocked him. The same light that once carried her warmth now burned cold, merciless, as if the universe itself had turned its back.
His vision blurred. Hot tears carved down his cheeks, one after another, until he could no longer tell whether it was his heart breaking or his body trying to bleed grief through his eyes.
He bit his lip, trying to silence the sob clawing at his throat, but it tore free anyway — raw, trembling, the sound of someone begging the night to give her back.
His knees buckled beneath him, gravel biting into his skin as he collapsed. He pressed a hand hard against his chest, as if sheer force could hold together the shattering inside.
"Serin…"her name left his lips in a whisper, cracked and desperate, carried off by the wind like a prayer the moon would never answer.
All he could feel was the unbearable weight of absence — a silence so cruel it swallowed the echoes of her voice, leaving him drowning in nothing but tears and memories.
Ren's voice cracked, raw:
"Kill me… hurt me… take anything away from me just....not her."
The sky did not answer. The stars only glittered faintly, like teardrops scattered across an endless canvas.
Memories flooded through him like a sudden downpour.
Serin's smile beneath the cherry blossoms, shy but warm, the kind of smile that could turn winter into spring. The softness of her voice when she whispered his name, as if it were a secret meant only for the two of them.
Her eyes...God, her eyes, eyes that seemed to hold entire seasons inside them. Summer warmth, autumn's melancholy, winter's quiet, and spring's fragile hope. He could still feel the way her fingertips had brushed against his palm the last time they met, as though she was trying to leave a piece of herself behind.
And then, like a film reel tearing apart, that memory collapsed. All that replaced it was the image of her brother's furious face. Red eyes, clenched fists, the kind of rage that could shatter anything soft and beautiful. Ren's stomach twisted. The memory of her brother's voice, shouting, accusing, echoed in his ears like a thunderclap. He could almost hear Serin crying, almost see her shrinking back.
His heart began to pound so violently it felt as if it might rip through his chest. Each beat was louder than the last, like a drum of punishment echoing inside him. His breath broke into jagged pieces, sharp and uneven, scraping his lungs as though the air itself refused to let him live.
He clutched at his throat, but it was useless. It felt as though unseen hands were coiling tighter and tighter around him, fingers of guilt pressing in, strangling every ounce of air. His vision blurred, not just from tears but from the weight of panic crashing over him like a storm.
And then.....visions.
Serin beneath the cherry blossoms, her smile trembling in the spring breeze. Her voice, soft and broken, whispering
"Promise me, Ren… don't forget me."
The way her hand had fit so perfectly in his, as though the world itself had been crafted for that single moment. The clash of memory and reality ripped through him, leaving him gasping.
His knees gave way, slamming into the earth, but he barely felt the sting. The ground spun around him. Above, the moon glared down, cold and merciless, watching his collapse like some cruel witness.
"Serin…"
he choked out, voice cracking,
"I can't—"
But the rest of the words drowned in sobs, his body shaking so violently it seemed his soul might rip itself free.
More visions flashed, Serin laughing with him on late-night calls, her sleepy "goodnight" whisper lingering in his ear, the sound of her humming when she was nervous. The way she had once said, "When I'm gone, look at the moon. I'll be there."
Now the same moon mocked him, shining with indifferent brilliance while he crumbled in its light. His tears dripped into the dirt, vanishing as if even the earth refused to hold his grief.
He pressed a trembling fist against his chest, as though he could physically hold together the pieces of his breaking heart. But no matter how hard he clutched, the emptiness spread. It was inside his veins, his bones, his every breath.
And in that unbearable silence, he realized something that tore him apart : It wasn't just that she was gone. It was that every dream of tomorrow had been buried with her.
" She's in that house right now. With him. She's alone. She's scared. Because of me. "
The thought didn't just sting—it choked him.
"Her brother… what has he done to her? Why should she suffer for me? What kind of an animal am I—letting her bleed for my mistakes?"
His knees buckled. He slapped his cheeks, once, twice, as though pain could erase guilt.
"My whole life… I had nothing as beautiful as her. Nothing. And now… I've lost even that."
The words shattered in his throat, heavy and iconic, like a confession carved into stone.
His phone shook in his trembling hands.
Airi's name blinked on the screen, his only anchor.
"Please… pick up,"he whispered.
He tried once.
Failed.
Tried again.
Nothing.
By the third attempt, time seemed to slow, his hands shook, his knees hit the earth, and his voice cracked like glass.
"No, God… please, no."
When she finally answered, her voice was light, almost amused.
"What is it, shithead? I was busy with my family. Can't you see I rejected your call three times?"
Her laugh, usually calming, now felt unbearable.
That's When he realized... She didn't know. She couldn't know.
Ren's voice cracked open like a wound, trembling, uneven, every word dragged out of him as if it cut his throat on the way out.
"Airi… p-please… just—just listen. Serin… her brother—he… he caught us. He saw us. H-he caught us red-handed…"
His breath hitched between every word, chest heaving, the syllables slipping into sobs.
The calmness in her tone evaporated.
Silence cut between them.
Then, a panicked gasp:
"No… no. Tell me you're joking. Tell me this is just one of your stupid pranks."
Ren pressed his forehead against the cold glass door of the balcony. His words trembled out:
"I'm dead serious. What do I do? Tell me what to do!"
Airi's tone shifted, urgent.
"Okay, breathe. Just calm down and tell me exactly what happened."
And so he spilled everything—the confrontation, the shouting, the look of betrayal in Serin's eyes as her brother dragged her away. With every word, guilt hollowed him out.
"I never… I never wanted this," his voice splintered, half-sob, half-breath.
"I never wanted to hurt her… God, all I did was—love her… that's all I ever did…"
He slid down the wall, knees buckling, fingers clawing at his hair as if he could tear the pain out by the roots.
"Please… please, somebody… help me," he choked out, his words dissolving into sobs. "I'm begging you… I don't know what to do anymore… I don't—" his voice cracked,
" I don't know how to fix this… I don't know how to live with this…"
The silence from Airi stretched heavy, filling the line like a suffocating fog.
She wanted to speak, to stitch his breaking heart with words—but what words could possibly reach a boy who had just lost the only piece that made him whole?
In that pause, in that unbearable stillness, Ren realized silence itself could be the cruelest answer.
"Ren," she whispered, "hold on. Let me call her sister. Maybe there's still—"
But his voice ripped through her words, jagged and trembling.
"No! Don't you get it, Airi ?! YOU can stay calm because it's not happening to you! But me? I'm just standing here watching everything I love burn! I wasn't strong enough to stop it, I wasn't enough to protect her. My whole life was empty until she came along—and in one heartbeat she turned it into something worth living. She was my light, Airi. And now… it's gone. All of it. Like ash slipping through my fingers."
His chest heaved, tears streaking his face, eyes wild with grief.
"If there's a God out there, then He hates me. He took her away because He hates me. And if He wants to break me even more…"
His voice dropped to a shattering whisper,
"…then what's left for Him to take?"
The words cracked like lightning in the night.
Airi went silent again. She had never heard Ren like this—every syllable drenched in despair.
The silence around him thickened.
The balcony, the stars, even the street below blurred. He pressed his palms to his temples, but the voices came anyway.
The lights flickered as the room seemed to shrink around him. Shadows clung to the walls like wet paint, stretching, warping, until they weren't shadows anymore.....
They were him. Dozens of Ren's, pale and translucent, began peeling themselves off the dark corners like torn photographs.
Their eyes were hollow, their mouths trembling with mockery.
One stepped forward, its face twisted into a cruel sneer. "She never loved you."
Another appeared behind it, grinning wide, teeth like cracks in glass.
"There are plenty of other girls. Why mourn one?"
A third crawled out from under the desk, its voice low and venomous.
"You threw her into the lion's cage. You made her suffer."
And then more — dozens, maybe hundreds — crawling from the curtains, the ceiling, even the mirror.
" Why are you still alive? Just disappear."
"Disappear."
"Disappear."
The words echoed, overlapping, until they weren't voices anymore but a pressure, like the air itself was squeezing the life out of him.
Ren staggered back, clutching his head, his nails digging into his scalp.
The room tilted.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"Noooo… Noooooo! Shut up! Shut up!"
he screamed, voice cracking until it was barely human.
But the figures only multiplied, whispering and laughing, closing in, their translucent hands reaching for his shoulders. The walls pulsed like a living thing. The air grew heavy, sticky with guilt.
Ren collapsed to his knees, palms slamming against the cold floor. His tears hit the wood like small explosions. For a heartbeat, it felt like he was drowning, but there was no water — only voices, memories, and shadows closing in.
His phone vibrated again.
Airi's voice spilled out, frantic, trembling like she was holding back her own sobs:
"Ren… listen to me. Her dad… he slapped her. Her mom… she's collapsed onto the floor, crying, unable to do anything. Her brother… he smashed her phone, her laptop, everything she used to reach out… she's trapped in that room, pacing, screaming into the walls. Her sister… she hasn't stopped crying, clutching her hands like she can hold onto her. Ren… it's chaos. It's… it's worse than anything I've ever seen. What have you done?"
The words struck him like lightning. Ren's knees buckled, the balcony tilting beneath him. The phone slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor, but his body didn't stop.
He stumbled, tripping over the railing's edge.
Time slowed.
His palms scraped against the cold wood, the world tilting, his head striking the floor with a dull thud. Pain shot through him, but he didn't even notice. He rolled instinctively, landing on his back, eyes staring at the ceiling, wide and unseeing.
Tears blurred his vision. Hot, relentless, unceasing. His chest heaved like it might burst. The weight of every word Airi had spoken pressed down on him, folding him in on himself.
"It should have been me,"
he gasped between sobs, shaking, arms trembling against the floor.
"It should've been me who cried, me who got hurt… not her. She didn't deserve any of this… God, she's too gentle… too fragile… and I—"
He pressed a hand to his face, clawing at the air as if he could pull the pain out of his chest.
The ceiling above him became a blank canvas for his grief, and for the first time, he let it all out — body wracking, lips quivering, heart shattering.
Ren's tears streaked across the floor, mixing with the cold shadows of the room. Every memory of her—the warmth of her hand, the softness of her laugh, the sunlight in her hair—clashed with the horror of what was happening to her now.
He pressed the phone to his chest, rocking back and forth, lips trembling, sobs unrelenting. The ceiling above him became a mirror of all he had lost, all he could not save. He cried harder than he ever had, the room filled with the sound of heartbreak, his body trembling like fragile paper caught in a storm.
"Oh...Ren....." Airi begged, "don't say things like that. Please, don't do anything foolish."
But her voice blurred, thinning like static at the edge of a dream.The world dimmed, its colors fading to pale watercolor hues.
His vision trembled.
He blinked
and the world shifted.
Sunlight spilled through the gauzy curtains like liquid gold, slow and syrupy, catching on every dust mote in the air. The motes spun lazily in the beams, glowing as though the room itself had caught fire with memories. A breeze drifted in, soft and cool, laced with the scent of cherry blossoms carried impossibly far. It brushed his skin like a hand he once knew.
Laughter rose, faint and fragile.
"Dad!"
The voice was small, bright, and impossibly alive, the kind of joy that doesn't just echo, it hurts.
A little girl came into view, running through the shafts of light as if she was made of them.
Her hair caught the sun in strands of spun gold ; her eyes, wide, curious, were mirrors of Serin's own, the same spark, the same ocean of depth that had once made him feel like he'd been born just to meet her. She leapt into his arms, giggles trailing like wind chimes in a spring breeze.
Behind her, Serin emerged from the glow — radiant, carrying a tray of breakfast like a fragile painting come to life. Each movement was slow, deliberate, a brushstroke.
"Wait for me!" she called, her laugh spilling into the room like clear water over stones.
Ren held them both, frozen in a perfect moment suspended between dream and memory. The golden light pooled around them, warm and alive, draping them in everything he'd ever wanted.
The curtains swayed, the morning hummed, and his heartbeat synced with it — a quiet drum in a world that had finally gone gentle.
For one heartbeat, the world was whole.
Happiness.
Peace.
Family.
They weren't ideas. They were real, warm skin, soft voices, and the faint weight of a child in his arms.
For the first time in hours, his chest didn't feel hollow.
For one heart-wrenching moment, it was everything he had wished for.
And then, like smoke...it was gone.
The light collapsed.
The room returned, empty and cold.
His arms clutched only air.
His cheeks were wet.
"If only I could tell her… one last time… that I love her."
The phone buzzed again, rattling on the floor like a heartbeat refusing to stop.
Ren stared at it through blurry eyes. His hand trembled as he picked it up.
Airi's voice cut through, trembling and cracked like glass:
"Ren. Please… hold on. Don't give up."
He clutched the phone to his chest, whispering into the silence,
"Serin… if you're listening, please… just once more. Let me see you beneath the blossoms. Let me tell you… I love you."
Outside, the wind shifted. A single cherry blossom petal, carried impossibly far, landed on his balcony railing.
Ren's hands shook as he stared at the blade on the table. His chest heaved. Every heartbeat pounded like a war drum in his skull, loud enough to drown out the world.
"I… I can't take this… if she's hurt because of me… it should be me instead…"
His fingers hovered over the cold metal, trembling. For a heartbeat, he imagined surrendering to the despair.
The shadows of his room stretched toward him, bending and twisting, whispering accusations he couldn't speak.
"Why am I even alive? She didn't deserve this… I should be the one…"
The phone shook violently in his other hand.
Airi's voice, frantic, broke through again, softer this time, like she was crying too,
"Ren! Please… put it down. Don't do anything foolish…"
But her words barely reached him.
Memories collided in his head, jagged and violent,
Serin laughing under the cherry blossoms.
Her voice whispering his name.
Her brother's rage.
Her absence.
Each memory cut deeper than the blade in his hand.
"If pain is all that's left of her… then let it be mine."
His fingers tightened around the handle, knuckles white.
The blade hovered near his wrist.
The world shrank to a single heartbeat.
A single breath.
Then, as if the world itself held its breath, a petal from the cherry tree, damp with rain, drifted through the open window. It landed softly on his arm, pale pink against his trembling skin.
He blinked, startled. For a heartbeat, he saw her again — standing beneath the blossoms, smiling at him the way only she could. Her lips moved in his mind, a memory of a whisper:
"Promise me… don't break."
The next sound wasn't the blade falling, but a faint, muffled gasp leaving his lips.
The petal on his arm darkened,
A thin crimson line blooming outward,
Delicate as ink bleeding into paper.
It trembled once, then slid soundlessly to the wooden floor.
His grip loosened.
The blade slipped from view, unseen, as his hand fell limply to his side.
Warmth ebbed from his fingertips like tide retreating from the shore.
His phone lit up one last time, Airi's name glowing in the dimness.
He could no longer read the words.
He thought of Serin's smile. He thought of the promise he never got to keep.
"Serin… if there's another world… wait for me beneath the blossoms."
His eyes fluttered shut, the sound of petals against the window merging with the faint echo of her laughter.
The phone buzzed again, Airi's voice desperate and pleading, cutting through the silence,
"Ren! Please… answer me! Don't do this!"
Ren's vision blurred further.
Every sound, every heartbeat, every memory collided, and for a moment, he felt as if he could dissolve into the floor beneath him.
He whispered her name once more. And then, silence — the kind that screams louder than any shout.
Outside, the world continued in cruel indifference. Inside, a boy lay curled on the floor, a single cherry blossom petal, tinged red, resting beside him.
A promise hung in the air, fragile, broken… waiting to be reclaimed.
" I love You, Serin "