shattered life, REBORN

The first week after Hiroki's disappearance was almost laughable. Kaede sat at the kitchen table, sipping her morning tea, her lips curling into a smirk as she reread the note he'd left behind.

"Consider me dead," she muttered, shaking her head. "Dramatic as always. He'll be back by dinner, crying about how unfair life is."

Kanako leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone. "Yeah, he's just being a crybaby. He'll realize he can't survive without us and come crawling back."

Ayuma, sitting cross-legged on the couch, chuckled softly. "Hiroki? A loser like him? He's probably hiding in some park, waiting for us to come find him. Pathetic."

The night they found the note, they'd laughed it off, treating it as another one of Hiroki's over-the-top reactions. Kaede had even joked about framing it as a reminder of his "dramatic flair."

"Consider me dead," Kanako had mocked, holding the note up and imitating Hiroki's voice. "Oh no, the world is so cruel! Boo hoo!"

Ayuma had joined in, laughing as she tossed the note onto the table. "He'll be back by morning, crying about how we don't understand him."

But as the days turned into weeks, the laughter faded. The house felt emptier, quieter, as if Hiroki's absence had carved a hole in the very walls. Kaede found herself staring at his untouched room, the door slightly ajar, as if waiting for him to push it open and announce his return.

The Hollow Encounters

Kokojin's presence had once been a source of excitement, a thrill that made their hearts race and their bodies ache with desire. But now, even as they met him in secret, the pleasure felt hollow.

It started with Kaede. She'd always been the most eager, the one who initiated their encounters. But one night, as Kokojin's hands roamed her body, she froze. Hiroki's face flashed in her mind—his wide, trusting eyes, his gentle smile. She pushed Kokojin away, muttering an excuse about being tired.

"What's wrong with you?" Kokojin asked, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"Nothing," Kaede lied, avoiding his gaze. "Just… not in the mood tonight."

Kanako noticed the change too. She'd always reveled in the power she felt over Kokojin, but now, his touch felt cold, impersonal. She found herself staring at the ceiling, her mind drifting to Hiroki's voice, his laughter, the way he'd always looked out for her, even when she didn't deserve it.

"You're quiet tonight," Kokojin remarked, his tone bored.

"Just thinking," Kanako replied, her voice distant.

"About what?"

"Nothing important," she lied, though Hiroki's face lingered in her mind.

Ayuma, once the most vocal in her disdain for Hiroki, now lay silent during their encounters. Her mind replayed the night in the changing room—the way she'd mocked him, called him a loser, denied their friendship. She could still hear his muffled cries from inside the locker, the sound haunting her like a ghost.

"You're not even trying," Kokojin complained, rolling away from her.

"Sorry," Ayuma mumbled, though she wasn't sure if she was apologizing to Kokojin or to Hiroki.

The Haunting Memories

The guilt crept in slowly, like a shadow stretching across the room. Kaede began avoiding Kokojin altogether, locking herself in her room with a bottle of wine. She'd stare at old family photos, her fingers tracing Hiroki's face.

"I didn't mean to… I didn't want to lose you too," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Memories of Hiroki as a child flooded her mind—his bright smile, his unwavering trust. She remembered the day he'd come home with a scraped knee, tears streaming down his face. She'd bandaged the wound, telling him to be brave, to protect his family no matter what.

"I failed you," she sobbed, clutching the photo to her chest. "I'm so sorry, Hiroki."

Kanako threw herself into searching for Hiroki, scouring the streets and calling his friends. But every lead turned up empty, and every failure only deepened her guilt. She'd lie awake at night, replaying the moments she'd ignored his pain, the times she'd sided with Kokojin over her own brother.

One night, she found herself standing outside Hiroki's room, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She pushed the door open, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air. His desk was cluttered with textbooks and notebooks, his bed neatly made, as if he'd just stepped out for a moment.

"Where are you, Hiroki?" she whispered, sinking onto his bed. "I didn't mean to hurt you… I didn't think you'd actually leave."

Ayuma, once so confident, now avoided everyone's gaze. She'd sit alone in her room, clutching her knees to her chest, Hiroki's voice echoing in her mind.

"You were my best friend," he'd said once, his eyes filled with trust. And she'd betrayed him.

The memory of that night in the changing room played on a loop in her mind—the way she'd laughed as Kokojin tied up Hiroki in the box, the cruel words she'd spat at him.

"Hiroki is a loser. he'll never be a real man. You were never my friend. and he will never gonna beat you at all, HAHA."

She hadn't known he could hear her. She hadn't cared. But now, the weight of her words crushed her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, though she knew it was too late. "I'm so sorry, Hiroki."

the second month goes too, no news of him, even they signed a form of lost person to the police but still no answer

keade on one side stopped sleeping and hugs the old picture of hiroki and his lost husband, she was in tears while holding the picture and suddenly, the memory of his husband before he let out his last breath that told her "dear, I'm sorry... cough please... protect konako and hiroki for me, please... cough i love you, keade..." haunted her every single night.

By the third month, Kaede was no longer the woman she once was. Her once-sharp eyes were now hollow, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were navigating a world only she could see. The house, once filled with laughter and life, had become a tomb, its walls closing in on her like a prison. Dust coated every surface, and the air was thick with the scent of decay and neglect.

In the dim light of Hiroki's room, Kaede sat on the floor, surrounded by scraps of fabric, stuffing, and a pair of glassy, lifeless eyes. She hummed softly to herself, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty halls. Her fingers worked meticulously, stitching together a crude doll. Its hair was dark blonde and messy, its face eerily reminiscent of Hiroki's.

"There you are, my sweet boy," Kaede whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of affection and madness. "Mommy's here. Mommy's sorry."

She cradled the doll in her arms, rocking it back and forth as if it were a real child. The room was silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards and the sound of her ragged breathing.

"You'll never leave me again, will you?" she cooed, her voice taking on a singsong quality. "No, no, no. You'll stay with Mommy forever. Forever and ever."

Her fingers traced the doll's face, lingering on its stitched-on smile. "You're so quiet today, Hiroki. Are you mad at Mommy? Is that it? Are you still upset about that night?"

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against the doll's face. "I didn't mean to hurt you, my love. I didn't mean to… to let him touch me. But you understand, don't you? You understand that Mommy was lonely. So lonely."

Her voice cracked, and she clutched the doll tighter, her nails digging into the fabric. "But you're here now. You're here, and you'll never leave me again. Never, never, never."

Kaede's laughter echoed through the room, high-pitched and unhinged. She stood abruptly, the doll dangling from her hand as she paced back and forth.

"Do you remember when you were little?" she asked, her tone shifting to one of nostalgia. "You used to follow me everywhere, clinging to my skirt like a little shadow. You loved me then, didn't you? You loved your Mommy."

She stopped pacing and stared at the doll, her expression darkening. "But then you grew up. You stopped needing me. You stopped loving me. And now… now you're gone."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with venom. "You left me. Just like your father. Just like everyone else."

Kaede's grip on the doll tightened, her knuckles turning white. "But you're here now. You're here, and you'll never leave me again. Never, never, never."

She pressed the doll's face against hers, her tears soaking into the fabric. "I'm sorry, Hiroki. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, please, please."

Her sobs turned into laughter, a chilling sound that filled the room. She placed the doll on Hiroki's bed, arranging it carefully as if tucking a child in for the night.

"Sleep well, my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Mommy will be here when you wake up. Always here. Always."

The Hallucinations

As Kaede turned to leave the room, she froze. The doll's head tilted slightly, its glassy eyes staring directly at her.

"Mommy," a faint voice called, soft and childlike.

Kaede's breath hitched, and she spun around, her eyes wide with terror. "H-Hiroki?"

The doll's lips didn't move, but the voice came again, louder this time. "Why did you hurt me, Mommy?"

Kaede stumbled backward, her hands clutching her head. "No, no, no! I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!"

The room seemed to close in around her, the walls dripping with shadows. The air grew colder, and the faint sound of laughter echoed in her ears.

"You let him touch you," the voice hissed, now deeper and filled with anger. "You let him ruin me."

Kaede fell to her knees, her hands clawing at the floor. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The doll's head turned fully, its glassy eyes locking onto hers. "You're a liar, Mommy. You never loved me."

Kaede screamed, her voice raw and desperate. She grabbed the doll and hurled it across the room, where it hit the wall with a sickening thud.

But the voice didn't stop.

"You'll never escape me, Mommy," it whispered, now coming from all around her. "I'll always be here. Always."

The Ritual

Kaede crawled to the corner of the room, her body trembling. She pulled a small box from under Hiroki's bed and opened it, revealing a collection of photographs, a lock of hair, and a small knife.

"I'll make it right," she muttered, her voice frantic. "I'll make it right."

She took the lock of hair—Hiroki's hair—and tied it around the doll's neck. Then, she pricked her finger with the knife and smeared the blood on the doll's face.

"With this blood, I bind you," she chanted, her voice rising. "With this hair, I call you. With this love, I keep you."

The room grew darker, the shadows twisting and writhing like living things. Kaede's laughter filled the air, a sound so broken it sent chills down the spine.

"You're mine now, Hiroki," she whispered, clutching the doll to her chest. "Forever mine."

The Final Descent

As the days passed, Kaede's grip on reality slipped further. She stopped eating, stopped sleeping, and spent every moment in Hiroki's room, talking to the doll as if it were alive.

"Do you want to play, Hiroki?" she asked one day, her voice eerily cheerful. "Let's play hide-and-seek, just like we used to."

She hid the doll in the closet, then spent hours searching for it, her laughter growing more manic with each passing minute.

When she finally found it, she held it up triumphantly. "There you are, my sweet boy! Mommy found you!"

But as she looked into the doll's eyes, she saw something that made her blood run cold. The glassy eyes seemed to glow, and the stitched-on smile twisted into a sneer.

"You'll never be free, Mommy," the voice whispered. "Never."

Kaede screamed, her voice echoing through the empty house. She clutched the doll tighter, her tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry, Hiroki," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

But the voice didn't respond. The room fell silent, and Kaede was left alone with her guilt, her madness, and the doll that stared at her with lifeless eyes.

on the other side...

Kanako's Hallucination: The Tease That Turned to Regret

Kanako sat on the edge of her bed, her hair still damp from the shower. The house was silent, but her mind was anything but. She could hear it—the faint sound of water running, the creak of the bathroom door, the echo of her own laughter.

"Hiroki, you're such a prude!" her voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

Kanako froze, her breath catching in her throat. She turned slowly, her eyes widening as she saw him standing there—Hiroki, his face red with embarrassment, his eyes downcast.

"W-Why do you always do this, Kanako?" his voice trembled, soft and hurt.

Kanako's heart clenched, but the hallucination didn't stop.

"Because it's funny!" her own voice taunted, cruel and unrelenting. "Look at you, blushing like a little kid. You're so pathetic."

Hiroki's face crumpled, and he turned away, his shoulders shaking. "I… I just wanted you to treat me like a sister should…"

Kanako reached out, her hand trembling. "H-Hiroki, I—"

But the hallucination shifted. Hiroki was gone, replaced by the memory of that night—the night she'd betrayed him. She saw herself laughing with Kokojin, her arm draped over his shoulder, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"Hiroki? That idiot?," she heard herself say, her voice dripping with disdain. "Please, he was just convenient."

The words echoed in her mind, each one a knife twisting in her chest. Kanako clutched her head, her nails digging into her scalp.

"Stop it!" she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"

But the hallucination didn't stop.

"You did mean it," Hiroki's voice whispered, cold and accusing. "what have i done that you do this to me huh?!!!. ANSEWR ME!!!!!!"

Kanako fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the empty room. "I'm sorry, Hiroki," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

But the voice didn't respond. The room fell silent, and Kanako was left alone with her guilt, her madness, and the memory of her brother's hurt eyes staring back at her.

The Desperate Search

The silence was unbearable. Kanako couldn't stay in the house any longer—the walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her. She grabbed her jacket and rushed out the door, the cold night air hitting her like a slap.

"Hiroki!" she called, her voice trembling. "Hiroki, where are you?"

The streets were empty, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. Kanako's breath came in short, panicked gasps as she ran, her eyes scanning every shadow, every corner.

"Please, Hiroki," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please come back."

But the streets remained empty, the silence deafening. Kanako's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the pavement, her sobs echoing through the night.

"I'm sorry, Hiroki," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

But the voice didn't respond. The night fell silent, and Kanako was left alone with her guilt, her madness, and the memory of her brother's hurt eyes staring back at her.

Ayuma's Hallucination: The Debt Unpaid

Ayuma sat alone in her room, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The silence was suffocating, but it was nothing compared to the noise in her head—the whispers, the laughter, the sound of Hiroki's voice.

"You were my best friend," his voice echoed, soft and accusing.

Ayuma clutched her head, her nails digging into her scalp. "I'm sorry, Hiroki," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

But the hallucination didn't stop.

The room seemed to shift, the walls melting away as she was transported back to their childhood. She was small again, her knees scraped and bleeding, tears streaming down her face as a group of bullies surrounded her.

"Leave her alone!" a young Hiroki's voice rang out, fierce and determined.

Ayuma looked up, her vision blurred by tears, to see Hiroki standing between her and the bullies, his fists clenched and his eyes blazing with defiance.

"You're not going to hurt her!" he shouted, his voice trembling but unwavering.

The bullies hesitated, then backed away, muttering insults as they left. Hiroki turned to Ayuma, his face softening as he held out a hand to help her up.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Ayuma nodded, her tears slowing as she took his hand. "Thank you, Hiroki," she whispered.

But the memory shifted, the warmth of Hiroki's kindness replaced by the cold reality of her betrayal. Ayuma was back in the changing room, the sound of Kokojin's laughter echoing in her ears.

"kukajin-sama," she heard herself say, her voice dripping with lut to kukajin. "you'll always be stronger them him, he'llnever gonna beat you and thanks to you, i don't see hiroki as a man anymore."

The words echoed in her mind, each one a knife twisting in her chest. Ayuma clutched her head, her nails digging into her scalp.

"Stop it!" she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"

But the hallucination didn't stop.

"You did mean it?!" Hiroki's voice whispered, cold and accusing. "is that how you repay me? is that your answer for what did for you? is that the thanks i get?! wish I let those bullies do what ever that wanted to do with you...."

Ayuma fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the empty room. "please NO NO NO NO PLEASE HIROKI," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

But the voice didn't respond. The room fell silent, and Ayuma was left alone with her guilt, her regrets, her madness, and the memory of her best friend that shattered in million pieces.

The Desperate Search

The silence was unbearable. Ayuma couldn't stay in the house any longer—the walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her. She grabbed her jacket and rushed out the door, the cold night air hitting her like a slap.

As she stepped outside, she saw Kanako pacing near the gate, her face pale and her hands trembling.

"Kanako?" Ayuma called, her voice shaky.

Kanako turned, her eyes wide and haunted. "Ayuma… I can't find him. I've looked everywhere, but he's gone. He's really gone."

Ayuma's heart sank, but she forced herself to nod. "We'll find him. We have to."

The two of them set off into the night, their footsteps echoing through the empty streets. They called Hiroki's name, their voices trembling with desperation, but the only response was the faint rustle of leaves in the wind.

"Hiroki!" Ayuma shouted, her voice breaking. "Please, Hiroki, where are you?"

Kanako clutched her arm, her nails digging into Ayuma's skin. "This is all our fault. We did this to him."

Ayuma didn't respond. She couldn't. The weight of their guilt was too much to bear.

As they turned a corner, Ayuma froze. She thought she saw him—Hiroki, standing at the end of the street, his back turned to them.

"Hiroki!" she screamed, running toward him.

But when she reached the spot, he was gone. The street was empty, the only sound the faint echo of her own voice.

Kanako caught up to her, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "He's not here, Ayuma. He's not coming back."

Ayuma fell to her knees, her sobs echoing through the night. "I'm sorry, Hiroki," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry."

But the voice didn't respond. The night fell silent, and Ayuma was left alone with her guilt, her madness, and the memory of her best friend's hurt eyes staring back at her.

Shadows of Regret – The Gathering Storm

afternoon

Nao stood in front of Hiroki's old house, gripping her phone tightly. The sky was a dull gray, casting a somber tone over the neighborhood. A soft drizzle had begun, dampening the pavement beneath her feet. Her heartbeat was steady—too steady.

She knew what she was about to do.

Nao had rushed here after her encounter with the "old friend" of Hiroki—the one who had revealed a truth she hadn't wanted to hear. Hiroki had jumped. His body was never found. The very idea of his death should have shaken her to the core. It should have filled her with grief, with regret.

But deep down, there was something else.

A smirk threatened to creep onto her lips, but she suppressed it, schooling her face into an expression of sorrow. She knew she had to play the part well.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing Kanako.

The girl looked nothing like her usual self. Her hair was unkempt, her eyes red and sunken. She wore an oversized hoodie—Hiroki's old hoodie, the one he had cherished. Nao had a flash of irritation at the sight of it but quickly masked her emotions.

"…Nao?" Kanako's voice was hoarse.

Nao gave a hesitant nod. "I need to talk to you. All of you."

Kanako hesitated but eventually stepped aside, letting Nao in.

The inside of the house was suffocating. The curtains were drawn, leaving the space dimly lit. There were empty cups of coffee and unfinished meals on the table. A dull scent of unwashed clothes and stale air lingered.

Nao's eyes flickered to the couch—and her stomach twisted.

Kaede was sitting there, her hands delicately stroking something in her lap. A doll.

A Hiroki doll.

It was crudely made, as if stitched together in a frenzy. Kaede whispered to it, her fingers gently caressing its face as though she were speaking to her real son.

Nao swallowed.

Ayuma was slouched on the chair nearby, his head resting against his fist. He wasn't looking at her, his gaze unfocused. His knee bounced restlessly.

This house felt… cursed.

Kanako sat down, motioning for Nao to speak.

Nao took a slow breath, making sure her voice wavered just enough to sound believable.

"I… I met someone today," she began. "Someone who knew Hiroki."

At the mention of his name, Kaede's head snapped up. The motion was so sudden, so unnatural, that it sent a shiver down Nao's spine. The woman's sunken eyes bore into her.

Kanako and Ayuma also stiffened, waiting.

Nao let the silence stretch before she continued, ensuring every word hit them like a dagger.

"He told me what happened." She lowered her gaze, feigning guilt. "Hiroki… he…" She swallowed thickly. "He jumped."

The room froze.

Kanako flinched as if slapped. Ayuma's restless knee stopped bouncing.

And Kaede…

Kaede laughed.

It was a quiet, breathless sound. Not one of amusement, but of sheer, fractured insanity.

Nao watched as Kaede's shoulders began to tremble. The woman gripped the doll tighter, her fingers digging into its fabric flesh.

"…You… liar…" Kaede whispered, her voice laced with something unhinged.

Nao stiffened. "I—"

"YOU'RE LYING!" Kaede screamed, her voice cracking. She shot up from the couch, the doll slipping from her grasp as she lunged at Nao.

Kanako barely caught her mother, wrapping her arms around her. "Mom, stop!"

"YOU FILTHY LITTLE BITCH!" Kaede shrieked, fighting against Kanako's hold. "It's because of you! It's YOUR FAULT! If it weren't for you—if it weren't for you—MY SON WOULD STILL BE HERE!"

Nao stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall. For the first time, she felt a twinge of fear.

Kaede's nails clawed at the air, desperately trying to reach her.

Kanako was crying, struggling to keep her mother from lunging. "Mom, please! Stop!"

Nao clenched her jaw. She needed to control the situation. She couldn't let Kaede's madness get the better of her.

"I'm just telling you what I heard," she said coolly. "If you don't want to believe me, that's your choice."

Kaede froze.

Her body trembled as she slowly turned her head towards Nao, her expression eerily blank.

Then, she collapsed.

Kanako barely caught her before she hit the floor, shaking her. "Mom?! Mom—wake up!"

Nao took a deep breath, composing herself. This is getting annoying.

Ayuma finally spoke. His voice was quiet, his tone unreadable. "…Where did you hear this?"

Nao tilted her head slightly. "From an old friend of Hiroki's."

Kanako's head snapped toward her. "Who?"

Nao shrugged. "He didn't give me his name."

That was a lie.

Nao knew exactly who he was.

She remembered those cold eyes. The way he spoke. The way he made her feel.

And yet, something about him unsettled her.

Kanako wiped at her tears. "…I want to meet him."

Nao smirked inwardly.

Perfect.

She had them right where she wanted.

But there was one thing left to do.

Nao glanced down at Kaede, who was now unconscious in Kanako's arms. The woman's face was pale, her breathing shallow.

A shame, really.

Nao's fingers brushed against her phone.

She had to make sure she erased all traces of Hiroki.

After all…

He was dead.

And now, it was time to move on.

—

To Be continue...