After the conversation with Yuzuki, everything started to make sense. I could no longer pretend. It was all connected—her pain and mine. We were both victims of the same shadow that had been following our lives for years.
The next day, I didn't go to school. I sat on the roof of an old building nearby, watching the city. The world below kept turning—kids were laughing, cars passed by, birds flew overhead. Everything looked too peaceful… too distant.
I knew I couldn't delay any longer. I could feel their presence drawing closer. The appearance of that man—it was just the signal.
My grandfather taught me not to be afraid. He taught me to observe, to stay silent, to wait. But now… I had to act. Not because I wanted revenge—not yet. But because I had to protect her.
Later that evening, I saw Yuzuki again. She stood by the school gates, as if waiting for me. When I approached, she looked straight into my eyes—her gaze carried everything: fear, resolve, and a faint flicker of hope.
"They're close," she said softly. "I can feel it."
I nodded.
"So can I. And now, we can't run."
We were about to step into a game we didn't choose. But there was no other option.
That was the moment everything changed. There was no going back. I was no longer just a student. And she was no longer just the girl with the warm smile.
We had become two targets. Two pieces on the board. But only one of us knew how to play.