Haruto's Perspective
The room was dim, washed in the faint glow of the laptop's sleeping light. A single dot pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and cold. I lay on my bed, one arm over my forehead, listening to the house breathe my father's soft snore from down the hall, my mother's quiet steps as she shifted laundry in the next room. Ordinary sounds. Safe sounds.
But ordinary never lasts when your head is full of fractures.
The images clung to me: the forest thick with shadow, the way Souta's hand slid against Miyuki's cheek, the soft collapse of her body into his. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it clearer, as though my own memory insisted on sharpening the details.
These weren't random flashes. They were fragments of truth, pieces of a puzzle thrown at me whether I wanted them or not. And when you fit the fragments together, they made a map.
A map that led to betrayal.
I turned on my side and bit my lip until the taste of iron filled my mouth. Souta and Miyuki. Forest. Camp. Their "hidden" sanctuary.
If I were still the boy I used to be, those thoughts would have hollowed me out. I would've trembled until sleep forced me into a shallow grave. But I wasn't him anymore. That Haruto had been buried with his innocence.
I was different now.
And the camp wasn't going to be their sanctuary. It was going to be their downfall.
Souta's Perspective
The pencil spun lazy circles between my fingers, barely touching the page of half-finished homework. I wasn't thinking about math or kanji. My mind was locked on one thing: the camp.
Two whole days away. No parents. No hovering teachers. Just us, the woods, and the dark.
I could already see it. Miyuki walking beside me, laughing at something stupid. The night pressing close, the campfire throwing shadows. And then when nobody was watching we'd slip away. Into the trees, into silence, into something real.
I grinned to myself, leaning back in my chair. That was when things would shift for good.
Miyuki loved playing the perfect girlfriend in public, all loyalty and smiles for Haruto. But I knew the truth. I knew the fire in her eyes when she was with me. I knew the way she clung tighter, kissed harder, like she was desperate for it.
Haruto? He was fading. I could feel it. She pitied him, maybe even cared in that sisterly way girls sometimes do. But the heat? The part of her that burned? That belonged to me.
This trip would prove it. All I had to do was push a little harder, and she'd stop pretending altogether.
And when that happened, Haruto would finally understand what it meant to lose.
Miyuki's Perspective
The mirror reflected a girl who looked calm. Too calm. I brushed my hair slowly, each stroke deliberate, as though neat strands could fix the mess inside my head.
The idea of camp made my chest flutter. I imagined walking under the stars with Haruto, maybe holding hands like when we first started dating. The warmth of the bonfire, his quiet jokes, the way he sometimes smiled like he was letting me glimpse a secret. That was what I wanted. That was safe.
But Souta's face pushed through the daydream like a crack in glass. His mouth against mine, the weight of his hand, the way he whispered things that weren't supposed to be said.
I froze mid-brush, heart skipping.
No. That wasn't me. That wasn't what I wanted.
It was just… practice. That's all. Souta was practice. A mistake I'd erase once I knew how to be the kind of girlfriend Haruto deserved. He was kind. Gentle. Cool in ways Souta never could be.
Still, the images wouldn't stop. Kissing in the shadows. My own hands clutching Souta tighter. The rush that came from being caught between shame and pleasure.
"I only belong to Haruto," I whispered to the empty room.
But the words didn't ring true. They echoed back at me, hollow, accusing.
So I kept brushing my hair, stroke after stroke, hoping that if I repeated the action enough, the images would blur into nothing.
Haruto's Perspective – Late Night
The clock's red digits glared back at me: 2:50 a.m.
I sat up in bed, pressing my palms against my knees. The night outside was quiet, but inside me, there was a restless hum I couldn't silence. I crossed to the window and leaned my forehead against the cool glass. Stars scattered themselves across the sky like shards of broken promises.
"Valkyrie," I whispered at first. Then louder. "Valkyrie!"
My voice cracked against the silence. Nothing answered.
Pointless. I almost laughed.
Still, I lowered myself to the floor, cross-legged, back straight. Closed my eyes. Breaths slow, steady, drawn from somewhere deeper than lungs. Meditation had become my ritual, a way to press myself into stillness, to scrape away the noise until only intent remained.
The ticking of the clock grew louder with every second.
2:59.
The air felt heavier.
3:00.
The world shifted.
I opened my eyes and the room was gone.
Haruto & Valkyrie
I stood in a vast, colorless void, a horizonless space that felt both infinite and suffocating. Light bled from nowhere, touching everything and nothing at once.
And there he was.
Valkyrie.
Tall, armored, his figure gleaming with an otherworldly sharpness. In his gauntleted hand, he held a soul trembling, pale wisp that screamed without sound.
His voice cracked the silence.
"You call my name like a child calling for his father. Why?"
My throat tightened, but I didn't look away. "Because I need you."
The soul writhed in his grasp. He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he might break instead of solve. "Need me? For what?"
I clenched my fists. "For them. Miyuki. Souta. I saw the visions—the forest, their betrayal. I don't want proof. I want destruction."
A low laugh thundered through the void. "Destruction," Valkyrie repeated, savoring the word. "You wear it on your tongue like wine. But do you understand the cost? It is not neat. It is not clean. Destruction spills beyond your target. It stains."
"I don't care." The words left me steady, flat.
The soul in his grip screamed, shrill and high, and I felt it scrape against my bones.
"You would burn them," Valkyrie said, stepping closer, "and what of your mother? The one who smiles and fusses over your meals while hiding pieces of herself from you? Will you destroy her too?"
My chest tightened. Kaori's tired smile, her quiet protection it flickered in my mind. But beneath it, questions lurked, sharp as glass. She knew something. Maybe more than she ever let on.
"If she's part of it," I said slowly, "then yes."
For the first time, Valkyrie's expression shifted. Amusement. Approval.
"You're colder than you look."
I met his gaze without flinching. "You gave me these visions. You don't do that for cowards."
He laughed again, the sound shaking the void. The soul writhed harder, almost splitting in his hand.
"Then prove yourself," he said. "Prove you're not just a boy with sharp words. Tell me why they deserve to fall."
I did.
I told him everything the secret glances, the hidden touches, the way Miyuki slapped her own friend to keep her image spotless while letting Souta into the spaces that were supposed to be mine. I told him how betrayal looked worse when it wore loyalty as a mask. I told him I wasn't content with making them tremble I wanted them to crumble.
Valkyrie's eyes glowed brighter with every word. When I finally fell silent, the void pulsed with a heavy hum.
"Good," he said softly. "You understand."
He opened his palm, and the soul in his hand burst apart into fragments of light. They rained around us, searing the air before fading into nothing.
"Here is your truth, Haruto: Destruction is not given. It is taken. And when you take it, you will not be the same boy who stood here tonight."
"I already stopped being that boy."
The corners of his mouth curved, almost a smile. "Then let us see if your resolve survives the forest."
The void rippled, light bleeding brighter, and my body felt heavy, dragged back through unseen currents.
The last thing I heard was Valkyrie's whisper:
"Remember ruin begins with trust."
I gasped awake on the floor of my room, sweat cooling on my skin. The clock read 3:07.
My chest heaved, but I didn't panic. I didn't even tremble. I just pressed my hand flat against the floorboards and let the words replay in my head.
Ruin begins with trust.
The camp wasn't going to be their playground. It was going to be my battlefield.
And I would not lose.