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"You're disgusting!!"
"Hit him!! Hit him harder!"
"Ah—! I'm sorry… please stop… it hurts…"
That evening, the fading sun hung low over the mountain path.
A dusty wind moved through the tall grass, carrying the dry scent of earth and pine. The old trail behind the village lay silent—far from the houses, far from anyone who might hear.
Perfect.
Shiharu's back struck the ground with a dull thud.
A sharp pain shot through his shoulder as someone shoved him down the slope. Loose gravel rolled beneath him, scraping against his palms as he struggled to push himself up.
Laughter erupted above him.
"Look at him," one of the boys sneered.
"Pathetic."
Another voice rang out, louder.
"Hey, isn't this the freak who confessed to Ren?"
More laughter.
Shiharu's fingers trembled against the dirt. He lowered his head, black hair falling over his eyes, trying to block out their voices.
It didn't work.
"So it's true," someone said mockingly.
"You actually like guys?"
A shoe struck his side—not hard enough to break anything, but enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
"Disgusting," another spat. "To think there are guys who fall in love with other men… makes me want to puke."
Someone scooped up a handful of sand from the mountain path and dumped it over his head.
Grains slid through his hair and down the collar of his shirt.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?!" another shouted. "Aside from good looks, you're nothing! Nothing at all but death and bad luck in human form!"
Another handful followed.
"Maybe we should bury him here," one of them suggested with a laugh.
"Yeah," another replied. "Let the mountain keep its little pervert."
A third voice scoffed.
"Ren should've come with us. That brat would've loved seeing this."
More sand fell over him.
Shiharu didn't fight back.
He didn't scream.
He simply sat there, shoulders trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on the dirt beneath him.
His heart shattered silently into pieces too small to gather.
When had it started?
All he had done was like someone… a boy who once called himself his best friend. The first person who had ever shown him warmth in his lonely, isolated life.
The line between wanting to say everything and knowing it was better to say nothing had blurred long ago.
Loser.
Gay.
Pervert.
Attention seeker.
Stalker.
Nicknames he had earned in the few months he had spent in his grandparents' village.
Gay.
The very word that had made his family recoil in quiet disgust—especially after an unknown shaman once whispered that his life would bring misfortune.
There's so much I want to say… but I don't even know where to begin.
The world grew strangely quiet despite the laughter.
As if something unseen was watching.
A cold wind drifted across the mountain trail.
The boys paused.
"Did you feel that?"
One of them glanced around uneasily.
But the path remained empty.
Only Shiharu sat there in the dirt—silent and trembling.
Escape… escape… escape…
Death…
Haunted memories… dried lakes… blood…
I can't… I can't… I can't go back there.
I can't ask for help.
I would rather endure this… it's better than being bullied… than being confined again.
Before he could gather another thought, one of the boys suddenly rushed forward.
A violent shove.
Shiharu's black eyes widened in shock as his body tipped over the edge of the mountain slope.
Right.
He hadn't believed they would go this far.
As far as killing him.
"Oh, what a pitiable thing you've become."
Laughter echoed the more.
It's okay.
I wouldn't choose me either.
As my final act of love… I will disappear.
As my final act of friendship… I'll never reach out again.
You never really knew me. You never knew how much I liked you.
Something about me was always wrong. Maybe that's my cursed fate.
I thought we would spend next summer together…
What if…
What if I never liked you?
Ren… you forgot to say goodbye.
But maybe that's for the better.
I never liked goodbyes anyways.
Perhaps I expected too much.
His back met the underground water—the deep, clear lake nestled between the mountains.
The impact swallowed him whole.
The same lake the villagers feared.
The same lake they avoided.
Shiharu who had always been a prodigy in swimming made no effort to move.
Perhaps he wanted this.
Perhaps he welcomed it.
A quiet disappearance where no one would ever look for him again.
Where no one would remember him.
Where do you go when your home is no longer home?
The boy remained beneath the water, drifting like a lifeless soul who had lost his reason to live.
His messy, layered black wolf-cut hair floated slowly around him.
Above the surface, the water rippled softly while distant birds chirped—as if mourning his silent surrender.
And far above the chaos, hidden among the trees on the mountain slope…
someone stood watching.
Quietly.
Secretly.
The last thing Shiharu saw before darkness consumed him was a figure with long, flowing golden-blonde hair. rushing desperately in the water.
Reaching for him.
Trying to save him.
Then everything went black.
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Status: Missing
Character: Dead