Remnants of Silence

Haruto didn’t move.

He didn’t scream or curse or lash out. His body shook faintly. The world around him blurred, not with tears but with emptiness. Like the color had drained from the air, leaving only gray smears in motion.

Somewhere to his right, Yukawa was chuckling.

“You’ve broken him,” the telekinetic man said, stepping closer. “Took closer than I thought.”

“No,” Yukawa replied, calm and amused. “He was broken before we ever touched him.”

Haruto’s eyes stared at the floor. The grotesque abomination stood still before him. Emi’s mutilated body, her head gone and her chest cracked open like a rotten fruit. Kurosawa’s head was still perched grotesquely atop her, “the cherry on top,” as Yukawa had called it.

His voice echoed like bile in Haruto’s minds.

He could still feel the warmth of Kurosawa’s last words: “Take care of her… for me.”

Then it all began to spiral.

A low hum whispered in the back of his mind, and with it were memories. The telekinetic man smiled faintly with glowing eyes. A shimmer danced around Haruto’s skull as if his memories were being pried out.

The past bled through.

Akane sat with her knees tucked to her chest, looking out over the ruined skyline of their apartment. Haruto, handed her a can of peaches.

“You didn’t have to hurt him,” she’d whispered.

“He was hurting you,” Haruto said flatly.

“Not like that…” Her voice cracked.

Haruto turned slightly, just enough to catch her face. There were bruises beneath her collar. Scratches along her arms. She’d tried to hide them before. Not from him. From herself.

“He deserved it,” he said. “You don’t have to feel guilty for that.”

Akane didn’t answer. Her fingers tightened around her legs.

“Violence,” she finally said, “always leaves something behind.”

Haruto exhaled sharply through his nose. “He would’ve done something worse.”

They sat in silence for a while. The space between them grew quiet and invisible.

Finally, Akane whispered. “Please don’t kill anyone else.”

Haruto’s eyes were still on the city. But his voice came back.

“Then one else should touch you.”

Another memory followed:

The silence in the room was suffocating. Haruto stood at the threshold, his hand frozen on the doorframe as he watched Akane scribbling something in a notebook on the kitchen counter.

A sudden heaviness weighed on Haruto’s chest as he stepped closer. Something was off. He could feel it.

“Akane?” His voice trembled.

She froze. Slowly, she turned to face him.

“You’re still here?” Akane asked in a distant tone.

Haruto felt a knot tighten in his stomach. “What’s going on?” He tried to sound casual, but voice betrayed his unease. “You’ve been acting strange lately.”

Akane didn’t meet his gaze. She let out a soft sigh, almost as if she were weighed down by the burden of her own thoughts. “I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay.”

Haruto stepped closer, reaching for her. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

She finally looked at him, but the look in her eyes was filled with pain. “You’re a killer, Haruto…”

The words hit him like a physical blow. His throat went dry. “W-what?”

Akane took a step back as he gripped the crumpled paper in her fist. “You killed him. our father.”

Haruto’s voice cracked with confusion and disbelief. “Akane, I don’t… I didn’t – “

“I remember now.” Akane’s words were barely a whisper. “I remember the night you took me in. The night you killed him. Our father. I didn’t want to remember… nor did you want me to. But I didn’t take my meds. I haven’t… for weeks.”

Haruto staggered back, as if struck. “Akane… you remembered? Then why didn’t you say anything before?”

She hesitated for a long moment. Then, she spoke in a low voice.

“Because I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to do with the truth. You… you killed him, Haruto. And I wasn’t sure if I should hate you for it. I still don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

His stomach twisted with guilt, but before he could speak, Akane looked up again, this time with a faint, sad smile.

“You didn’t give me a choice. When I was a kid, I thought you were my hero. I thought you were the only one who could protect me from the world. But that night…”

Haruto shook his head, unable to process her words. “Akane... I didn’t mean for any of this. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, you have to understand. I didn’t—”

“You didn’t mean to?” Akane interrupted. “You didn’t mean to, but you did. I was just a little girl, Haruto. I didn’t know what was happening, and you... you killed him right in front of me.”

Haruto’s mind spun, the weight of her words pressing down on him with unbearable force. The room felt colder, the walls closing in on him as Akane’s confession rang in his ears.

“I—I didn’t know what I was doing,” he said, trembling with emotion. “I didn’t want this to happen. But I couldn’t stop it. I was just trying to survive. I never meant to...”

Akane took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Haruto. I don’t know if I ever will. But I can’t carry this burden alone anymore. And I can’t live in this nightmare, pretending like nothing’s wrong.”

“You don’t understand, Akane,” he whispered. “I would have done anything for you. I still would.”

But she was already gone, disappearing into the night, and Haruto was left alone in the wreckage of everything he had ever known.

As the final remnants of the flashback faded from Haruto’s mind, Yukawa’s voice cut through the silence. “She was so naïve, wasn’t she? Believing she could change you. Thinking that her little kindness could save you from yourself.”

Yukawa’s eyes gleamed coldly. “But in the end, it was for nothing. She died for your sake. For your betterment. Regretting every moment she spent shouting at you, running from you. A true tragedy… one I had carefully orchestrated.”

Haruto’s body tensed.

“Beautiful,” Yukawa murmured, examining him like a painter admiring a dying muse. “He can’t even cry anymore. I love it.”