Chapter 3: Even If It Kills Me

With the bat in hand, I returned to Natsumi and the others gathered in the gym. I raised my voice so everyone could hear me over the panicked whispers.

"All of you, help anyone who's injured and head to the second locker room on the right. There's a door there that leads straight to the infirmary. You can barricade yourselves inside and treat the wounded. Also..." —I took a deep breath— "it might be a big ask, but if any of you can fight, please stay. We need to buy some time for the others to escape."

For a moment, no one moved. Then, a bigger boy stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly but his eyes filled with resolve.

"I'll stay," he said. "My name is Fumihiko. I've been a coward all my life, but I won't die a coward." He hesitated, then asked, "But... aren't you scared?"

"Scared?" I repeated, gripping the bat tighter. "Of course I'm scared, I'm fucking terrified. I feel like my heart's about to explode." My voice grew sharper, stronger. "But I can't just stand here and watch as chaos erupts around me. I want to survive—I want to keep living—and for that, actions have to be taken."

I gave him a nod. "Anyway, thank you for your support, Fumihiko. But we have to move now. You and I will stay and buy some time for the others to get to safety. After that, we'll hide too and wait for the police to come. Understood?"

"Understood," they all said in unison.

The group began to move, helping each other toward the locker room. But then I noticed Natsumi—her expression was conflicted, defiant. She limped forward, supported by another girl, but after just a few steps, she stopped. Slowly, she turned around to face me.

She shrugged off the girl's hand and took a few shaky steps on her own, determined. Her eyes locked onto mine as she closed the distance between us.

“Don’t you dare die, Haruki,” she said, her voice trembling—but fierce. “If you do, I’ll kill you myself.”

A stunned silence hung between us for a second.

Then I smiled.

"I promise," I said softly. "We’ll see each other again, don't worry. I’m not dying today."

Natsumi stared at me, her eyes shimmering—but she said nothing. She didn’t need to.

I stepped forward and gently cupped her cheek. Then, with a quiet breath, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Go,” I whispered. “I’ve got this.”

She blinked rapidly, trying to hide the tears. I offered her my arm, and she took it wordlessly. I helped her back to the girl who had been supporting her.

“Take care of her,” I told the girl. She nodded, eyes wide with worry.

Natsumi didn’t look back again as they disappeared down the corridor.

Once she was gone, I just stood there for a second, the air feeling heavier somehow—like it knew what was coming.

Why does it feel like I just said my final words...?

My breathing steadied as I turned back toward the steel door, my knuckles whitening around the bat’s handle. I could hear it now—the heavy footsteps of the gang member drawing closer.

I took a deep breath, my heartbeat pounding like war drums in my ears. I gestured to Fumihiko to take position on the right side of the door while I moved to the left.

My breath came out ragged. My hands trembled as I tightened my grip on the bat. The gym was eerily silent now—only faint whispers and hurried footsteps echoed in the distance as the last of the students managed to escape. Beside me, Fumihiko stood firm, fists clenched, his eyes locked on the door.

Then—it burst open.

The door swung wide with a violent slam, nearly hitting me. I barely dodged it, then threw a quick hand signal to Fumihiko: stay quiet. We might get the drop on him.

The man stepped in. He was dressed in dark clothing, his face half-hidden behind a mask, moving arrogantly as he scanned the room. Me and Fumihiko pressed ourselves into the shadows, barely breathing. He didn’t notice us.

The metallic glint of his gun caught the dim gym lights.

My pulse pounded harder.

Perfect distance. I could reach him.

Now!

"I’ll hold him off!" I shouted.

Fumihiko turned, eyes wide. "Are you crazy—?"

But it was already happening.

The gang member turned and raised his gun to fire. I didn’t think—I moved. I swung the bat with everything I had, slamming it into the barrel just as he pulled the trigger.

CRACK.

The bullet shattered a window behind me. The gun clattered across the floor.

"YOU BASTARDS!" the gang member howled, clutching his hand.

Fumihiko didn’t hesitate. He launched himself at the man, tackling him to the ground. They rolled, thrashing, fists flying. I dove in too, trying to pin the man’s arms while Fumihiko got behind him and wrapped his arms around the bastard’s neck, squeezing like his life depended on it.

Seconds stretched into eternity. My heart slammed against my ribs as the gang member kicked and snarled.

Then—finally—he went still.

Fumihiko pulled back, gasping for air, his face pale. "I think... he’s out."

I knelt beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah—I’m fine. My ears are still ringing, but... God, when I saw that gun I thought I was going to die " He tried to laugh, but it came out strained. "Next time, maybe warn me?"

"Yeah... sorry," I said, forcing a shaky breath. "I didn’t have time to explain. Do you think more gang members are coming after that shot?"

Before he could answer, a sharp, cruel laugh echoed behind us.

We both turned—too late.

The gang member was rising, his face twisted in rage.

Shit—!

His hand dove into his jacket and came out with another gun - a handgun

Two sharp cracks split the air.

CRACK. CRACK.

Fumihiko jerked violently—one bullet ripped through his arm, the other tore into his leg. His scream was animal, raw and broken.

AAAGHHHHHH !!!!!!

"FUMIHIKO!" I cried out, while instinctively moving to help—but the barrel was already pointed at me.

"DON’T MOVE, BOY!" he barked, voice sharp with fury. "You really thought choking me out would be enough? We’re trained for this shit. You kids are just amateurs—playing hero."

He flexed his hand with a sickening crack of his knuckles. Rage twisted his features.
"And you…" he pointed the gun at my face. "You’ve really pissed me off."

I stood frozen. My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. My mind raced for options—run? No chance. Dodge? Too slow. There was no cover. No angle. No time.

Get the gun away. That’s the only shot.
Think, Haruki—think!

Then it hit me—not strategy. Pride.

I forced a smirk onto my face, even though my legs were shaking.

"Pathetic," I said, my voice low, sharp. "You need a gun just to beat a kid?"

That stopped him for half a second. His expression blanked. Then I saw it—the twitch in his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes. Pride… it worked. I saw the insult land like a punch.

"You little shit," he growled, jaw tightening. His grip on the gun faltered just slightly as irritation crept into his stance.

I didn't move yet. I let the silence stretch just enough for the anger to build.

"Brave words for someone about to bleed out." He pointed to my shoulder and smirked. "Fine. No weapons. Let’s see what you’ve got." And with a cocky flick, he tossed the gun aside.

I didn’t wait. I charged with the bat.

But he was fast—too fast. He ducked under my swing and slammed his fist into my gut. I doubled over, breath knocked out of me. The bat nearly fell from my grip.

I forced myself back up, using the bat like a cane.

"Still holding that bat?" he laughed. "I said hand-to-hand."

He moved again—quick and precise—a jab aimed at my ribs. This time, I dodged, using the bat as a shield to deflect the blow and redirect him. As he stumbled slightly, I struck—full force—with my elbow to his face.

It wasn’t luck. It was instinct. Two years of middle school judo... I never thought it would matter. But now, every throw, every counter was flooding back to me.

The man fell back but recovered quickly, though I saw the blur in his movements. I had done some real damage.

We circled, breathing heavy.

"I’m impressed," he admitted darkly. "Who knew a little punk like you could actually fight?"

I smirked, silently thanking my past self for those judo classes.

We clashed again. I used the reach advantage of the bat, keeping him just far enough to land strikes on his ribs and arms but making him unable to hit back. My injured shoulder screamed with every movement, and my energy was draining fast—but so was his. His punches slowed, becoming sloppy.

He's tiring too.

I saw my opening—and rushed him.

But he didn’t dodge. He stepped forward and landed a punch—weak, but enough to throw me off balance. He grabbed my arm and flipped me over his shoulder.

I twisted mid-air, planting my hand and landing on my feet.

But the bat slipped from my fingers.

He snatched it up immediately, looking down at me with a wicked grin.

"Looks like the tables have turned," he said mockingly. "And since you didn’t respect our little deal, I’ll change the rules too."

My body froze in panic.

FUCK Think, Haruki, THINK!

But before I could act, he casually tossed the bat aside.

"It’d be morally wrong to use your weapon against you," he said with a mocking laugh. "But that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy."

His hand reached to the back of his belt.

I saw the smile on his face before I saw the blade.

My heart stopped.

"Aha… this'll do just fine."

A knife.

"WHAT?! You just said it’d be morally wrong—and now you pull out a FUCKING KNIFE?!SHIIT" I screamed inside my mind.

He lunged.

I raised my arms, trying to block, trying to dodge—but he was faster. His slashes tore into me. Blood sprayed from my forearms, my skin burning.

I couldn’t even tell where the cuts were anymore. My whole body was just pain.

He was trying to end it now, going for my face. I barely dodged, but a red line opened across my cheek.

We stood face to face, both panting.

Suddenly, the radio that had on the floor when Fumihiko tackled him crackled.

"Ey, dumbass. We got the girl. We’re done here. Grab your shit and get out before the cops show up."

The gang member’s eyes narrowed.

"Looks like we accomplished our goal... but I’m not done here yet."

I tensed. I could barely stay upright.

He lunged again.

I tried to move—tried—but my legs wouldn’t listen.

The knife plunged into my thigh.

I screamed.

The blade tore out savagely, ripping flesh and muscle. Blood poured down my leg, hot and fast.

I slumped against the wall, shaking uncontrollably.

He stood over me, cold and cruel.

"This has been fun," he said. "But I’ve got places to be." He reached up to fix his mask—

And paused.

It wasn’t there.

It had fallen during the fight.

Me and Fumihiko had seen his face.

His expression darkened instantly.

“…Shit,” he muttered. “You saw me.”

His voice had dropped an octave, low and dangerous.

“I can’t let you live now,” he said. “Either of you.”

Before I could react, a blur of motion came from the side.

"Haruki, move!" Fumihiko shouted, suddenly back on his feet—barely—but his eyes were blazing. He launched himself at the man with what strength he had left.

They collided hard, the masked man stumbling back with a grunt as Fumihiko landed a punch across his jaw. It wasn’t elegant, it wasn’t trained—but it was fierce, fueled by adrenaline and sheer desperation.

I tried to push myself up, to help him—but my leg gave out, and I collapsed again.

That’s when I heard her.

“Haruki!!”

My heart almost stopped.

Natsumi. She had come back.

She limped into the gym, still hurt, one hand on the wall to steady herself. Her eyes scanned the chaos, then locked onto me. And when she saw the blood, the knife wound, the way I couldn’t move—her face twisted in horror.

“Idiot,” she breathed as she rushed over. “You promised me...!”

“Natsumi—go back!” I wheezed. “What are you doing?!”

“I heard the shots—I thought—!” Her voice cracked, her eyes already welling with tears. “I thought you were—!”

She dropped beside me, ignoring everything else, and wrapped an arm under my shoulder. “Come on,” she panted. “We’re leaving. Now.”

She tried to pull me. Her grip trembled. I couldn’t help her much—I was too far gone—but she tried anyway.

And then we both heard it.

A sickening thud.

Fumihiko’s body hit the floor.

Unmoving.

The masked man stood over him, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. Blood dripped from his mouth, and his fists were clenched—knuckles raw, cracked, and stained with fresh blood. His gaze slowly turned back toward me.

Back toward us.

And then he saw her.

Natsumi froze.

The man blinked—then smiled. A slow, ugly smile.

“Well, well...” he muttered. “Looks like I hit the jackpot after all.”

My heart seized in my chest.

He started walking forward.

“She’s the reason you fought, isn’t she?” he said, cracking his neck. “Figures. Little pretty girl like this… would make a damn good reward after the day I’ve had.”

“Don’t you dare—!” I growled, trying to crawl forward.

He reached her.

Natsumi screamed and swung at him, but he caught her wrist easily. In one brutal motion, he forced her to the ground, pinning her arms above her head.

“No!” I shouted, panic flooding me. “Get off her!!”

“Stay down,” he barked. “You’re half-dead already. I’ll deal with you after I’m done here.”

Her eyes met mine.

Terrified. Pleading.

And I snapped.

Everything—the fear, the pain, the helplessness—it vanished. All that was left was fire. A white-hot rage that swallowed everything else.

I gritted my teeth, my fingers clawing at the gym floor.

Then I did the impossible.

I reached for the knife still embedded in my leg.

Pain exploded through my body as I wrapped my hand around the handle.

I screamed—not from fear this time, but from fury—as I ripped the blade free.

I SWEAR TO THE LAST BREATH I HAVE, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!!!!

He didn’t even hear me coming.

With every last ounce of strength I had, I hurled myself forward.

My body was nothing but blood and adrenaline, my vision tunneled to one thing—his neck.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate.

I drove the blade into him.

Straight through the side of his neck.

His body jerked violently, the breath in his throat turning into a wet gurgle. His eyes went wide as he stumbled back, trying to pull away—but it was too late.

The blood poured fast. Too fast.

He dropped to his knees. His hands grasped at the knife, then fell limp.

He was dead before he hit the floor.

Silence.

My body slumped beside hers, too weak to hold itself upright. My lungs burned, my vision dimmed. Everything hurt—but the pain felt distant now. Fading.

Natsumi was above me, her face contorted in horror and grief. Her hands shook as she pressed down on the wound in my leg, even though we both knew it was pointless.

She was saying something—but I couldn’t hear her.

Then, finally, I found my voice. Barely a whisper.

“I… couldn’t keep my promise,” I murmured, blood staining my lips. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t protect you the way I should’ve… and now… I can’t be there… when you need me the most…”

My throat clenched.

“I’m… sorry.”

Natsumi shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. “No—no, don’t say that! You did protect me! You saved me! Haruki, please, the police are coming—they’ll help you, you just have to hold on!”

Her hands clutched mine like lifelines. “We can still… we can still live, okay? You just have to stay awake. Just a little longer…”

But I knew the truth.

The moment I ripped that knife from my leg… the moment I lunged at him… I sealed my fate. My body had nothing left.

I looked at her.

She was crying so hard, trying to smile through it all. Trying to believe.

And I wanted to believe too.

So badly.

My hand twitched.

With everything I had, I reached up, trying to wipe the tears from her face. One final gesture. One final touch.

But I never made it.

My arm fell limp halfway.

And the world went still.

Forever. I had die


And just like that my FIRST life ended —wrapped in pain, love, and a promise I couldn’t keep