Chapter 2: A Different Day

The road I take home winds up a lonely hill, narrow and cracked, with brittle weeds poking through the asphalt. It’s a quiet path, far from the main road, far from the chaos. Far from the fists and cruel laughter I pretend not to hear. It’s easier that way. Easier to walk in silence, with the wind at my back and the sky bleeding into twilight.

Today should have been like any other day. I should have passed unnoticed.

But today was different.

I saw them ahead before I heard them—three familiar silhouettes hunched over their prey, standing near the edge of the cliff that looms over the rocky shoreline below. They’re laughing, but it’s not the careless laughter from this morning. It’s darker. Hungrier.

And there, dangling over the abyss, is Kenji.

They have him by the collar, his feet kicking uselessly above the drop, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut against the strain. His face is pale, a mix of terror and resignation. He’s given up screaming. I can tell by the emptiness in his eyes. No one’s coming for him. Not out here.

I wasn’t going to stop. I wasn’t going to look.

But something feels different today.

The world seems sharper. The air colder. Each step I take feels heavier than the last. The pounding in my chest drowns out the wind. And for the first time, I’m not afraid. I don’t know what I am.

But I’m not afraid.

I stop a few feet away, close enough to see the cruel glee in their eyes but far enough that I could still turn around. Walk away. Pretend I never saw. My usual choice. But not today.

I take a breath. “Let him go.”

The words are soft, but they cut through the laughter. The leader—tall, with a cruel smirk and dead eyes—looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. The others glance at each other, confused.

“What did you say?” he asks, his voice low and mocking.

I swallow, my throat dry. “Let him go.”

They laugh again, but it’s different now. Nervous, uncertain. I wasn’t supposed to speak. Quiet boys like me don’t interfere. But I don’t move. My hands shake, but I keep them at my sides. Kenji’s eyes meet mine, wide with disbelief.

“You serious?” the leader sneers, tightening his grip on Kenji’s collar. “What are you gonna do, huh? Fight us?”

“No,” I say quietly. “I’ll just watch you fall.”

It’s a lie, of course. A desperate bluff. But for a moment, they hesitate. Just long enough. The leader lets go, and Kenji crumples to the ground, gasping for breath. He scrambles away, crawling until he’s out of reach.

And that’s when they turn on me.

The first blow knocks the breath from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, my head slamming against the cold earth. They don’t stop. I taste blood. Feel the jagged sting of gravel against my skin.

But it’s not the pain I notice most.

It’s the weight of the cliff beneath me. The edge. I feel it before I see it, the dizzying drop just inches away. One of them kicks me again, and the world tilts.

The ground vanishes beneath me.

I fall.

The air rushes past, cold and cruel, and the sky spins in a blur of gray and blue. I hear them shouting, their voices distant now, panicked.

The ground is hard when I hit it. Pain explodes through me, sharp and unforgiving. My body crumples, breath stolen, vision blurred. Everything hurts. The world swims, darkening at the edges.

And as I lie there, broken and bleeding, I realize something.

Today was different.

Today, I was the one who fell.