The night after nearly killing his parents, Sachu lay in bed staring at the ceiling, drowning in thoughts he could never outrun.
His body was heavy, but his mind refused to rest.
Death.
The word coiled inside him like a parasite. He imagined his heart stopping, his lungs refusing to draw air, his body lying still, pale, empty. But worse—the thought that after death, there would be nothing.
No dreams.
No voices.
No light.
Only an endless, suffocating void.
The idea slithered into him, wrapping around his chest until it squeezed. His breath grew shallow. He clawed at his shirt like tearing it open might free him.
"I… I don't want to die…" His whisper cracked in the dark, fragile and broken.
But the other whisper came, calm and venomous.
"Then feed it. You fear the void? You fear the end? Give it what it hungers for… and you will never face it."
Sachu pressed his palms to his ears, curling beneath his blanket like a child. "Shut up. Shut up. You're not real."
The whisper only chuckled.
"You'll see soon enough."
Days blurred. Weeks dragged. The month crawled like a nightmare that refused to end.
Sachu could feel it—the grotesque unraveling of his body.
His skin turned pale and clammy, as though life itself was draining out. Veins darkened beneath his flesh, rising to the surface like cracks in fragile glass. His bones ached. His appetite meant nothing; no matter how much he ate, his frame only withered.
One morning, staring into the bathroom mirror, he saw not a boy—but a corpse pretending to breathe.
His trembling hands clenched the sink.
"If I don't kill… it'll kill me."
For the first time, he believed the whisper.
And every night, the sword sat silently on his desk, its blade glimmering faintly. Patient. Waiting.
By the end of the month, he was certain that he will die soon.
Tomorrow, he thought, staring at the blade as it pulsed like a living thing. Tomorrow I'll do it.
He had already chosen his victim: a homeless man near the train station. Alone. Forgotten.
No one would notice. No one but him.
His stomach twisted, but the fear of the void burned hotter.
Better a stranger than me.
Tomorrow.
But tomorrow never came.
The classroom buzzed with chatter as Sachu slumped into his seat at the back. His heartbeat was erratic, every thump like a clock ticking toward the inevitable.
"Class," the teacher announced, "we have a new transfer student today. Please introduce yourself."
Sachu barely lifted his head.
The girl stepped forward, carrying a lightness that seemed to brighten the entire room. Her hair shimmered faintly beneath the fluorescent lights. Her smile was radiant, the kind that drew everyone in.
She bowed. "Hi, I'm Mia! I love weird stories, horror movies, and anything supernatural. If you ever want to talk about curses or ghosts, I'm your girl!"
The class laughed, clapped, whispered.
Her eyes scanned the room—then landed on him.
Sachu froze. For just a moment, her gaze lingered, warm and curious. Then she smiled ever so slightly and looked away.
And for reasons he couldn't explain, something stirred inside him.
At lunch, she approached the back row.
"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, sliding into the seat before he could answer.
"…Uh… sure," he muttered, startled.
She leaned closer, grinning. "You're the quiet one, right? You've got that mysterious, gloomy vibe. Honestly? Kinda creepy…"
Sachu flinched.
"…but also kinda cool," she added quickly with a laugh. "Like a ghost who decided to attend high school."
He blinked, caught off guard.
"I like talking to people who aren't like everyone else," she said simply. "So… hi. I'm Mia."
"…S-Sachu," he whispered.
And for the first time in weeks, the whispering in his head… was gone.
That night was different.
The fear that usually wrapped around his chest loosened. The whisper that gnawed at him vanished.
When he closed his eyes, he didn't picture death. Didn't imagine the void. Didn't see the endless blackness.
He saw her.
Her smile.
Her voice.
Her eyes, looking at him like he wasn't invisible.
And for the first time in years—
Sachu slept. Peacefully.
The next day, Mia waved at him like they'd been friends forever. The classroom buzzed around her, alive with her energy and laughter.
Sachu watched quietly from the back, warmth tightening in his chest.
But his body betrayed him. His vision swam. His legs trembled. Black veins pulsed faintly beneath his skin.
By afternoon, he could barely stand.
Then, in the schoolyard, his knees buckled.
The world tilted. His chest locked. His lungs refused to fill. He clawed at his shirt, gasping.
Nothing.
Silence. Students whispered. Some laughed nervously.
"Creepy Sachu's finally dying…"
Then—
"MOVE!"
Mia's voice cracked like lightning. She shoved past the circle of onlookers and dropped to her knees beside him.
"Come on… stay with me!" Mia's voice trembled but carried an edge of desperation.
She positioned her hands over his chest, pressing down firmly, rhythmically.
Thump… thump…
Nothing.
She leaned harder. Her fingers dug into the fragile bones beneath, her arms shaking as she counted aloud.
"Stay with me, Sachu! Breathe… please, just breathe!"
Her palms pressed again, faster now, each push compressing his chest like she was forcing his heart to remember life. She felt the faint give of his ribs, the way his chest refused to respond.
One… two… three…
Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, eyes wide with fear. Come on… come on…
Then, faintly, a flutter beneath her hands. A tiny, rebellious pulse.
Thump…
"Yes! There! Don't stop!" she gasped, pressing harder, counting faster.
Thump-thump… thump-thump…
"C'mon, c'mon… open your eyes!" she urged, voice cracking. Her hands shook as she pressed again, urging his heart to remember its rhythm.
Warmth pressed against his lips. Breath filled his lungs.
Thump.
Thump-thump.
Air rushed back. His heart lurched. His vision snapped into clarity.
The first thing he saw was her. Inches away, relief flooding her face.
"You're okay," she whispered, voice trembling with relief. "You're okay…"
Sachu lay there, chest heaving. Not just stunned that she had saved his life.
But because his heart was racing for another reason entirely.
Mia had saved him from death.
But she had also given him something even more terrifying.
A reason to live.