Shattered

Alishia felt a warmth at the bridge of her nose. She let it linger. She didn’t like it too hot, not too cold—lukewarm was the best. Like the sun in winter. Like hope showing up in the darkest season. A small light in the dark.

Alishia slowly woke up, her cheeks still a little wet.

The familiar smell of her room hit her. Old mold and thin air. A smell she deeply disliked.

The sun looked really pretty today, she thought. Light orange, like the early hours of a spring morning.

She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up in bed.

The soft fabric of her hands brushed her face, sending a sharp pang through her skin. Pain blossomed where her wounds still ached.

Memories from yesterday flooded back: the fight, the bruises, the pain—and most importantly, the money she was supposed to bring TODAY.

“Shit!” she gasped. Panic surged. Sweat spread across her skin. Her body trembled. Her heart thumped loud enough she could hear it.

I must have fallen asleep… How could she, when that stupid girl was still threatening her for money?

There was just one problem: she didn’t have any.

Alishia snapped. She threw off the blanket and jumped out of bed. Drawers flew open. Clothes tumbled. Socks, shirts, papers—everything scattered as she dug through every corner, hands shaking, fumbling.

She yanked open her backpack, dumping notebooks and pens onto the floor, patting every pocket, checking her jeans and jacket again and again. Even the little jar on her desk, where she sometimes saved coins, got upended. Coins clattered across the floor. 

Her breathing grew ragged. She tore through cupboards, knocking over books and trinkets, muttering curses under her breath. Every empty space, every drawer, every pocket—nothing but dust and disappointment.

She held her arms to her forehead, trying to think.

And then—there it was. The money jar. Melissa’s jar, collecting every coin she had.

A bad thought struck her. Embarrassment, shame—even for thinking it. She wasn’t the kind of person to steal. She hated everything wrong. The very idea of taking what wasn’t hers made guilt curl in her stomach.

She didn’t know what to do. She truly didn’t want to. God, she never would if she didn’t have to—but she had to. Or they would hurt her again. Hurt her really bad.

But it wasn’t just that. There was a feeling too—a sense that something bad was coming.Like she could feel the future. Stupid. Ridiculous.

Stealing because of a dumb feeling… she muttered.

Fear of Ronja and the strange premonition mixed together. Too much. Her hands shook. She grabbed the jar, shoved the money into her backpack, and ran out of the orphanage.

She would give Melissa every cent back. Even if she had to work for years.

She ran. Faster than ever. Bumping into people, almost tripping. Cars honked. Tires screeched. The city smelled of hot asphalt and exhaust. Her heart raced so fast she could barely breathe.

She didn’t know the time. She didn’t even know if she had enough money, she had to hurry.

She stopped, bent over, hands on her knees. Breath came in ragged gasps. People stared, confused. She felt dazed.

The fear of not having enough money tightened her chest, made her stomach churn. Guilt mixed with panic, and she felt sick.

Then, on her left, she saw it—a black bag on a bench. Probably left by a woman who had forgotten it.

She didn’t want to look. But she did.

Inside was a wallet. Brown leather. Soft, worn.

She didn’t want to steal. Not again. The thought of taking it, and never being able to pay it back ,she would most likely never see the woman again.

Casually, slowly. Afraid of being noticed. She moved closer to the bag, inspecting it. Every instinct screamed not to. Every feeling twisted inside her. Fear. Guilt. Necessity.

She looked at it again, her mind racing, thoughts colliding as she tried to decide what to do.

But Alishia was too afraid. Too afraid of that feeling.

She felt weak—so weak, physically and mentally.

And then...she took the wallet.

After running for a few more minutes, she finally reached the school grounds again.

The same bench as yesterday—only a few meters away now.

And on it, they were already there.

Ronja.
Kim.
Haruto.
Akio.

Alishia held her breath. Ronja was sitting on the bench, looking around. Alishia felt like a soldier walking into a war zone, then she spotted her. Her eyes widened, a flicker appeared in them, her lips curled up and her expression became joyful.

This always happened when she hurt Alishia. It seemed to bring her the most happiness in the whole world. Alishia couldn’t imagine how someone could be so cruel, how someone could find joy in hurting others. All she felt was a deep, dark, uncanny, hurting feeling. 

She couldn’t imagine how this could be happiness, how someone like that could even live with this being their only joy.

,,Where were you? Took you long enough,” she said, getting up from the bench and stepping closer.

“I missed you,” she said quiet—not whispering, just quiet.

This unsettled Alishia the most. Ronja knew it. Oh, she knew exactly what Alishia hated, what she feared. It was almost like—she truly was—a demon.

All Alishia could do was try to form words. But they wouldn’t leave her throat.

All she could do was smell Ronja’s scent—cigarettes and trees. See her clothes, dark and worn. See her black hair. Fierce blue-grey eyes.

She wanted to forget her face so badly. Forget she ever existed. Live her life. But she doubted she ever could.

,,Now,” Ronja said, stepping closer. Her blue-grey eyes drilled into Alishia. “Where is my money? Don’t tell me you forgot it.”

Akio snickered. Short, brown-haired, brown-eyed, with soft features that made him look harmless—until he opened his mouth. “Look at her.'' he said. “She can’t even afford real clothes.”

Kim laughed, tallish, ponytail bouncing as she chewed her bubble gum, the faint smell of cheap 2000s-style perfume clinging to her. “Not even shampoo.” she added, smirking. Akio laughed with her, their mockery echoing around Alishia.

“I didn’t ask for your goddamn opinion!”  Ronja snapped, voice sharp like her blade.

Kim and Akio froze immediately. The laughter vanished, replaced by nervous glances. Fear flickered across their faces. Ronja didn’t tolerate dissent.

Hachiko didn’t say anything. He seemed to be in a bad mood, a black eye darkening one side of his face. Tall, with messy blonde-brown curls, his features were both masculine and oddly delicate. His body was well-trained, every movement controlled, quiet, dangerous.

Alishia felt a shiver run down her spine. Even without speaking, he radiated something that made her stomach twist.

,,So…” Ronja said. “I wanna see what you’ve got.” She pulled down her backpack over her head, hard, her hands rough against the wounds she had caused.

“I better see something, or this day won’t be pretty for you,” she added, laughing a little quietly at the end.

She opened the backpack. Alishia felt her heart rise into her throat.

“Alishia—”

She turned, frozen.

But nobody was there.

,,Hey?'' Ronja said, her voice tight, confused.

“What did you say?” Alishia asked, her throat dry, heart hammering.

Ronja stared at her, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t fuck with me.” she snapped, sharp and low. Confused, still, but her hands didn’t stop rifling through the backpack.

What was that? Who just called her name? Was it her imagination?

It felt too real. Like someone was an inch away from her.

“Where did you get that much money?” Ronja suddenly asked, pulling Alishia back out of her thoughts.

“That’s… like 55,000 yen.” Ronja said, a hint of surprise creeping into her voice.

“I-I…” Alishia stuttered, not knowing what to say. Not out of fear—right now she was just completely confused.

“You stole it, didn’t you?” Ronja added, smirking a bit. “Well, I don’t care. But still… didn’t think of you as a thief.” She stepped closer. “Maybe you and me can still become friends.” she added, draping her arm over Alishia’s shoulder.

Alishia winced.

“Don’t be scared now…” Ronja said, playful, tilting her head to look at Alishia’s face at her feet.

“But… I’ve never seen this. Not in the last three years I’ve known you.” She cupped her hands around the silver necklace, now holding the green, shining stone.

Then it hit Alishia like a brick wall.

She forgot it. How could she forget something so valuable, so important? It was her mother’s amulet—the only thing she had left of her. The only memory. The only reminder.

Alishia was terrified. Terrified of Ronja and what she might do.

And she knew exactly what Ronja wanted.

“Why don’t you give it to me? I’ll just borrow it. I’ll give it back. Promise,” Ronja said, her smirk sharp.

No, No.., Alishia thought. This can’t be real. She couldn’t let her. She might be terrified of Ronja—but she would never give her mother’s only possession away.

,,We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Ronja added, gripping Alishia’s shoulder tighter—painfully tight. She leaned closer. “You don’t want friends, do you? What happens if I get more… clear?” she whispered.

Then, out of nowhere, before Alishia even realized what she was doing, she punched Ronja straight in the nose.

Kim, Akio, and Haruto were now fully awake, eyes wide, staring straight at the scene.

Ronja held her bloody nose, glaring.

Alishia couldn’t believe she had just punched her—out of nowhere.

Then she ran. Fast.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Ronja screamed.

Alishia could already hear multiple footsteps pounding behind her.

Alishia ran, feet slapping against the cracked asphalt. The city around her blurred—neon signs flickering, the smell of hot asphalt mixing with exhaust. Cars honked as she darted between them.

She glanced back. Ronja was there, bleeding nose and all, chasing her with Kim, Akio, and Haruto close behind.

“Stop running, you little brat!” Kim shouted furiously, ponytail flying.

Alishia’s chest burned, lungs screaming, but she didn’t slow. She had to get away.

The streets twisted into a maze of alleys and narrow lanes. The smell of fried food from a small stand made her stomach twist with nausea. Garbage bins tipped over, a stray cat darted across her path.

She glanced back again. Ronja’s group was gaining. Ronja’s eyes still glinted with that sharp, cruel joy.

“ALISHIA, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” Ronja screamed, voice full of anger, echoing off the buildings.

Alishia swallowed hard, her legs trembling. I can’t stop. I can’t let her take it. Not the amulet. Not ever.

A puddle splashed under her foot, soaking her sneaker. Her bag bounced violently with every step. Her hands were sticky from the sweat and adrenaline. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

She ran faster, weaving through the narrow streets, barely noticing the dim glow of streetlights, the distant hum of traffic. Each time she looked back, the group’s silhouettes loomed closer.

“Don’t think you can get away!” Akio’s voice cut through the air, low and sharp.

She looked back, panic clawing at her chest.

Now she didn’t even care. She made bolder moves, darting across the street. Her legs burned, her body slowly giving up. She wasn’t fit at all, and she knew soon they would catch her.

Alishia gave it everything. Sprinting, muscles screaming, heart pounding. She poured all her strength into running.

Then, suddenly, she heard it—the loud alarm of the train platform gates closing.

The sound hit her like a lightning bolt. The only way she could shake them off… was the train.

She finally realized.

She ran fast. She didn’t care what happened next.

The alarm grew louder, but it didn’t stop her. Voices yelled behind her, people screaming to stop, but she couldn’t.

As she crossed, she heard Ronja scream—“Alishia”—but not in anger. In fear.

Alishia turned her head.

Then the last thing she heard was the honking of the train.

Suddenly, everything went black.