What You Lost V

The second hand jerked forward.

Tomoe remained sprawled across the floor, her severed neck a dark fountain that had slowed to a trickle, the crimson pool inching toward their shoes. Through the doorframe, splatter stained the walls like a grotesque mural.

Stillness filled the room like another presence. Reina braced herself against the counter, shoulders folded inward as if trying to disappear. Her stare flicked from window to ceiling to faucet—anywhere but him. The counter’s edge bit into her palms, fingers drained of color. Each breath came thin and shallow.

He sat at the table, spine bent like a question mark, palm flat against his thigh. His pulse had already steadied. His thoughts hadn’t.

“Are you afraid?”

A strangled noise caught in Reina’s throat. She covered her mouth, trembling fingers pressed against her lips as she shook her head and lowered her stare.

He kept his focus on the floor. “I want you to know—if I’d seen another way, any other way out—I wouldn’t have chosen this one.”

She didn’t answer. He spoke anyway, the words tumbling before he could stop them.

“I tried so hard to keep this part of me hidden from you.”

Her gaze lifted to meet his. “You… you killed those people, Ren.”

“They were going to kill me,” he said, tone low. “Do worse to you.”

“You… brutalized them.” Her glance slid toward the doorway where something dark glistened on the wall. Her tone was distant, as if she were listening to someone else speak.

Ren’s jaw flexed until a muscle jumped beneath his skin. “They were already monsters. I just made the outside match.” His stare locked on hers. “Isn’t this the justice you wanted?”

“I didn’t want you to do this.”

He recoiled as if struck. “You can’t be serious. These people were going to—”

“There were other ways!” she snapped. “The authorities, the system—someone else could have handled this!” Her voice broke. “Look at what you’ve done, Ren. All this blood…”

“Listen to yourself.” He leaned forward. “They would’ve killed us both if I hadn’t stopped them.”

“Stopped them?” Her glare sharpened. “You butchered them. You killed people, Ren!”

“I did!” The words detonated from him. “And they weren’t the first. I’ve killed more people than you’ll ever know.” He leaned across the table, close enough for her to see the flecks of amber in his irises. “You think someone else is going to handle it? The police? Social services? Where were they when this started? You think life’s going back to normal?” He tipped his chin toward the corpse without looking. “You’re wrong, Reina. Open your eyes.”

His chest heaved once, twice.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I killed them. And I’d do it again if it meant keeping you alive.” His stare searched her face. “Now answer me. Are you scared?”

Of me.

He exhaled, voice fraying at the edges. “If you are—if you hate me… I’ll understand.”

Reina’s fingers trembled on the table’s edge. Her attention traced his features, lingering as if seeing him for the first time. The tight line of her mouth eased. She leaned forward and brushed her thumb along his cheek, wiping a crimson streak before it reached his eye. Somewhere between fear and pity, something gentler took root.

He almost flinched—the warmth of her skin achingly human.

“I’m not a monster.”

“I know you’re not.”

The air between them stretched thin as wire. Only the clock dared to move, marking another second gone.

Her focus stayed on him. When she finally spoke, her words were barely more than a whisper. “What exactly did you do?”

Ren exhaled like something breaking free. His shoulders sagged, as if invisible hands had finally released their grip. “Sometimes,” he said, “I wish you would’ve left me alone.”

Her expression flickered—hurt, disbelief.

“Remember how you used to say I never fit in?” His gaze dropped to the crimson swirls on the floor. “You were right. I’ve got no place here. Not beside you. Not with anyone. This whole world… I’m just passing through it.”

Her breath caught. “What are you saying?”

“I’m from another world.”

The confession slipped out before he could stop it.

He froze, then repeated it softer. “I’m from another world.” He lurched upright, pressing his fingers to his temple as if to hold back the flood. “I’m from another world!” The names came first. The faces. Leon’s crooked smile. Sera’s blazing eyes. Voices he’d trained himself to forget came roaring back. He gripped the table’s edge as his knees threatened to buckle, his body shaking as years of denial tore themselves open.

Reina could only watch as he fractured before her eyes like ice cracking over dark water.

“They’re gone,” he said, voice catching. “Every last one.” A sound escaped him—half laugh, half sob. “Yet here I stand.”

Their gazes met, and something inside him caved, leaving him hollow. The words scraped his throat raw. “Why am I still here?” He wasn’t asking her. Maybe he wasn’t asking anyone.

Reina sank to her knees beside him, arms wrapping around his trembling frame despite the cooling corpse inches away. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, her heartbeat thudded against his chest, her tears burning trails down his skin as she pulled him closer.

She held on like a lifeline.

For the first time in years, he let himself be held. His arm circled her waist, fingers knotting in the cotton of her shirt. In the spreading crimson pool, his reflection stared back—a vacant vessel with eyes that shimmered but refused to spill.

Her lips brushed his ear. “Whatever your reasons,” she breathed, “I’m happy that you are.”

━━━━━━━━━━𝑾𝑪𝑨━━━━━━━━━━

The kitchen table separated them, morning light spilling across the blood-stained tiles, turning everything it touched a sickly amber.

“Those people at the school,” Reina said. “And at the bridge too. You saved us then, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “I thought if I just disabled them—the ones that didn’t look too far gone—maybe they’d have a chance later.” The corner of his mouth pulled downward. “I realize how stupid that was.”

“All those times I thought we got lucky,” she murmured. “That wasn’t luck at all.”

Ren studied the darkened grout between the tiles. Her words hung in the air between them, unanswered.

“Does it ever bother you?” she asked, softer now.

He glanced at the body. “Sometimes. My world had its own wars. I was born with…” He paused, searching. “A certain mutation. I was fighting for my life before I knew what it meant.” His gaze drifted somewhere she couldn’t follow. “Eventually, we got used to it.”

“We? You weren’t alone?”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I had people. We protected each other. Fought together.” The smile faded. “And we lost. The rest is history.”

He looked at her fully—seeing her, perhaps for the first time.

“Leave with me.”

She blinked.

“We could disappear,” he said. “Tonight. No goodbyes, no traces. Just you and me, somewhere no one would find us.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because the thought of losing her felt too much like losing them again.

Her lips curved upward, though it wasn’t a smile born of joy. “What about Lilly? What about everyone else? What about your friends?” She shook her head, the gesture gentle despite the weight behind it. “I can’t abandon my sister.”

Ren recognized the ghost in her—Sera’s unflinching gaze when confronted with darkness, that instinct to reach toward broken things. He’d tried to dismiss it as cruel coincidence, the universe’s final joke at his expense. Yet despite every wall he’d built, every cold shoulder he’d turned, she remained. Close enough to see his suffering. Close enough to matter. And that was the problem. She had begun to matter.

Reina’s laugh caught in her throat as she brushed tears from her lashes. Her tone quivered on the words. “Even if I wanted to go with you… I haven’t earned that right.”

He stayed quiet—his silence another wall between them.

“That first day, your expression carried such loneliness. I thought you looked so sad. It broke my heart. It crushed something in me. So I did what I always do—worming my way into your life, wielding my smile like a lockpick, using every trick I knew to mend what looked shattered. To make the sadness retreat. Make you better. Fix your life. Fix you. And when I succeeded, I’d vanish.”

A rough sound escaped her, almost a laugh. “Never mind what I left behind. I convinced myself I was balancing some cosmic scale—erasing a ledger of wrongs. The whispers followed us everywhere: how my family promised the world while emptying your pockets.” Her voice cracked, tears catching the amber light. “That first day I saw you standing alone, something in me recognized something in you. I thought: here’s someone even more broken than I am. Here’s someone I can save.”

Her focus found his, steady despite the tremor in her tone. “I never meant to—” The confession died in her throat. “Even if I wanted to disappear with you, I haven’t earned it.” A broken laugh escaped her. “You were right, you know—there’s something wrong with everyone. Some pair we make, don’t we, Ren?”

The second hand moved again. Beyond the glass, wind bent the branches of a distant tree. His stare traced her movements—fingers knotting and unknotting, shoulders rising with each shallow lungful. Her truth settled into the space between them, neither shocking nor surprising him. What remained wasn’t judgment or pity, just the weight of recognition—two cracked mirrors catching the same fractured light.

She lifted her head at last, the whites of her eyes threaded with red.

He rose and moved to her side of the table. His thumb found her cheek, sweeping away a rust-colored smear that had dried there during the morning’s violence. “None of that matters now,” he murmured, barely disturbing the air between them.

His hand lingered against her skin. Her gaze searched his face, hunting for absolution—or maybe just a fragment of hope.

Then he saw it reflected in her eyes—a flicker of movement, a flash of color that didn’t belong.

His head snapped toward the window. Through the pale morning light, an orange streak sliced the horizon like a wound. They moved as one to the glass, shoulders nearly touching, and watched the flare arc over distant rooftops. It paused at its apex, suspended between earth and sky, before dissolving into a ribbon of smoke. Across the city’s glass towers, the reflection rippled—too precise, too intentional to be anything but a message.

Ren released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his gaze fixed on the fading trail. “Let’s find the children,” he said. “And get out of here.”

━━━━━━━━━━Author's Note━━━━━━━━━━

Okay—so I actually did a little dance this morning. Number four in the weekly?! Guys, this is HUGE?! Thank you all so, so much for the support. I’m honestly nervous now; I really hope you like this chapter. It’s hard to top the last one, but I’ve been looking forward to this quieter moment between Ren and Reina for a while.

Funny thing—I originally thought I had a shot at joining the upcoming Urban Fantasy competition, but turns out I didn’t read the rules closely enough. Still, I ended up pushing through most of my backlog thinking some extra momentum might help me in the contest, lol. Updates will slow down a bit now as I rebuild that backlog (and maybe sneak in some bonus content for you all). Twice a week—Wednesday and Sunday—with a few surprise drops in between. Until then, thank you again. You’ve seriously made my week. If I can’t keep the energy forever, at least I got to be up there once! XD