Chapter 15

Cold air filled Tadashi’s lungs again.

He opened his eyes — same place, same patch of dead leaves, same twisted trees staring down at him like they were waiting for round two.

He didn’t move at first.

He didn’t even breathe properly.

Just laying there, staring up at the branches that overlapped like a cage.

“…Again?” he whispered.

The word came out rough, almost broken.

His hand went to the side of his neck — the spot where the bite should’ve been.

No wound. No pain.

Just the memory of it.

It wasn’t fair.

He hadn’t fought.

He hadn’t run.

He hadn’t even cared.

And he still died.

Tadashi sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. His breathing grew faster as something hot built in his chest. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t sadness.

It was irritation.

A spark of anger trying to break out.

“Seriously… even when I do nothing, I still get killed?” he muttered, voice shaking.

He stood. His legs were steadier this time, but his mind wasn’t. It was spinning, twisting, replaying the last few seconds before he died. The hiss. The fog. The bite. The helpless collapse.

He didn’t want that. He didn’t want this world deciding things for him.

But the anger faded as quickly as it appeared, drowned by heavier thoughts that crawled back into his head.

If he fought, he died.

If he didn’t fight, he died.

Either way…

He still came back here.

This forest.

This silence.

This emptiness.

It felt like the world was mocking him.

Tadashi clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

“Why? Why am I still here!?”

No answer — just the forest breathing quietly around him.

He walked again, footsteps heavier than before. Drowned in despair, he tears his shirt and forms a rope.

After staring at the rope, tears begin to form as he looks at the tree in front of him. In the next minute, Tadashi’s motionless body dangles with the handmade rope holding his neck, stopping him from falling.

And for the third time, Tadashi was gone.

Cold.

Again.

The same breath.

The same forest.

The same patch of dead leaves crumbling under his weight.

Tadashi’s eyes snapped open, and for the first time, he didn’t feel confused. He didn’t feel scared. He felt… tired. Exhausted in a way sleep couldn’t fix.

He sat up slowly, hands shaking as he stared at them. His fingers felt disconnected from his body, like they belonged to someone else. He didn’t even remember standing last time — only that moment where everything stopped.

“Why…” His voice cracked. “Why do I keep coming back?”

The forest stayed silent.

The fog thickened around him, winding between the trees like a living thing. Every inch of this place whispered that he didn’t belong here — and yet here he was, trapped again.

He pushed himself to his feet, but it felt heavier this time. Each movement dragged, as if the forest was pulling on him, trying to keep him in place.

He stumbled forward, not caring where he was going. He didn’t bother looking for danger. Didn’t bother checking the shadows. Didn’t bother listening for footsteps or growls.

He didn’t care.

What was the point?

His boots snapped twigs as he walked, slow and uneven. His breathing was shallow. His thoughts were spiraling again, drowning out the world around him.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“I can’t keep waking up here.”

With that in mind, he walked towards a cliff, staring at the ground beneath it as the the distance began to stretch in his hallucination.

He was just… done caring what happened next.

Tadashi closed his eyes and stepped off the edge.

The wind hit him instantly, tearing at his clothes and hair as he dropped. The rush of air pressed against his chest so hard it knocked the breath out of him, and for one split second, there was nothing but silence in his head.

And for the fifth time, Tadashi’s world went dark.

Cold breath.

Dry leaves.

Fog curling over his clothes.

Tadashi didn’t even blink when he woke up. At this point, the forest floor felt like a bed he never asked for. His heartbeat didn’t spike. His breathing didn’t quicken. His eyes didn’t widen in confusion the way they used to. He simply lay there.

Staring.

Feeling nothing.

He pushed himself up — slower than before — and brushed the dirt off his hands without thinking. His movements had become automatic, like he’d memorized this wake-up sequence from countless tries.

Because he had.

He took a step forward.

The forest creaked around him, trees bending at odd angles, bark peeling like old skin. The silence was no longer uncomfortable—just familiar. Too familiar.

Tadashi’s footsteps dragged. He didn’t change direction. Didn’t check the surroundings. Just wandered, half-present, half somewhere else.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them, a low rustling came from the bushes ahead. Tadashi barely turned his head as several pairs of animal eyes — small, sharp, and hungry — peeked through the leaves. Wild forest dogs, thin and desperate, crawled closer, their ribs visible under their fur.

He didn’t react.

One dog lunged.

Then another.

Then another.

Tadashi didn’t bother running. The forest twisted around him, shadows swallowing him whole. There was the crack of branches, the snap of teeth, and then—

Darkness.

Again.

Cold air filled his lungs once more.

Reset.

He didn’t even sigh this time. He just pushed himself up, dusted off the leaves, and walked in a different direction.

The forest didn’t care.

It attacked him anyway.

A falling branch crashed down from above. Tadashi didn’t notice until it hit him. The pain was sharp and quick—then silence, then nothing.

Cold breath.

Again.

He sat up and leaned against a tree, staring blankly ahead. His thoughts buzzed like static. He didn’t even realize he was trembling.

The fog swirled. Something crawled from beneath a patch of roots, eyes glinting. Tadashi didn’t even raise his head. The creature struck. Darkness swallowed him again.

Cold breath.

Reset.

This time he didn’t move.

Didn’t stand.

Didn’t even sit up.

Tadashi stayed on the ground with his eyes half-open, listening to his own heartbeat slow down as exhaustion—not from the forest, but from existing—washed over him.

The world felt distant.

The forest felt heavier.

And Tadashi felt… smaller.

“Why…” His voice was barely a whisper. “Why won’t it stop?

No answer.

Just another round of footsteps approaching from behind.

He didn’t look.

Darkness came again.

By now, Tadashi had lost count of how many times he’d died.

The forest hadn’t gotten easier.

His emotions hadn’t gotten lighter.

The only thing changing was him—piece by piece, losing the will to care, losing the strength to fight, losing the part of himself that believed things could get better.

And the forest kept taking advantage of that.

Mercilessly.