Don't say anything else.

Tsubasa stared at Yua’s smile in confusion, not because it looked strange, but because it didn’t. For once, it looked frighteningly genuine.

The chanting continued around them. Incense smoke drifted upward in pale gray ribbons while mourners quietly bowed their heads toward the altar. Somewhere behind them, someone began crying harder. The sound blurred into meaningless noise inside Yua’s ears.

All she could hear now was:

“So I got placed somewhere I would stop being a problem.”

Something inside her snapped. Like a thread finally tearing after being pulled too many times.

Yua tightened her grip around his cold hands. Tsubasa blinked slightly at the sudden pressure.

“…Yua?”

She shook her head.

Don’t say anything else.

That was what her eyes were telling him. If he continued speaking in that same calm voice, she genuinely felt like she might start screaming in the middle of the funeral hall.

Tsubasa fell silent. Maybe because he misunderstood her reaction, or maybe it was because he thought he had said too much.

For the first time, someone was holding his hands like they actually meant it. Normally, he would be disgusted, but this did not feel so bad to him after all.

Yua slowly lowered her eyes. Her thoughts were no longer coherent.

Haruki’s mother, that woman. That smiling, gentle woman was pouring tea this morning. That same woman abandoned him. And after that-

Then what? She got to continue living normally afterward? Remarried. Had another child. Built another family. Smiled. Laughed. Cooked breakfast. Acted like a mother. Yua’s stomach churned violently.

A sudden, horrible image flashed through her head.

While she was living a normal, wonderful life, Tsubasa was given to his “grandmother”.

That monster touched him. Used him. Destroyed him.

That thing was not a human being.

Tsubasa was a little boy.

Quiet. Obedient. Trying desperately not to upset adults. Trying to survive. Trying to understand why nobody wanted him.

Her nails dug harder into her palms.

No. No no no no no.

No no no no no no no no no no no no.

Those people didn’t deserve forgiveness. They didn’t deserve peace. Tsubasa was wrong.

Desperation didn’t excuse this. Being tired didn’t excuse this. Being overwhelmed didn’t excuse abandoning your child to something like that.

Yua’s breathing became uneven.

Because now she understood why he smiled like that.

Why every expression looked practiced. Why he talked about pain like weather. Why he treated violence so casually.

Nobody saved him. Nobody. Not once. And somehow…

Somehow, he still sat here, gently comforting other people. Still trying to protect her. Still smiling.

He saved her.

Yua suddenly felt sick. Not at him, but at humanity itself.

Tsubasa tilted his head slightly.

“…You’re shaking.”

Yua immediately realized her entire body had gone tense. She quickly pulled out her phone before he could say anything else.

I’m fine.

Tsubasa read the message quietly. The faintest crease appeared between his brows. A look that almost resembled concern.

“You’re lying.”

Yua looked away immediately. If she looked at him any longer, she was genuinely afraid he would realize what she was thinking, and what she was thinking was horrifying.

For the first time in her life, Yua understood why Tsubasa looked at cruel people the way he did.

Some people truly made the world worse by continuing to exist.

And suddenly…

Killing them didn’t feel impossible anymore.

The thought terrified her because it didn’t disgust her. It felt correct.

Yua slowly looked toward the altar again. Her mother’s photograph smiled gently beneath the funeral lights. A dead woman who everyone suddenly pretended was kind.

Tsubasa was right.

People only loved children when they were convenient. Only mourned people when it was socially expected. Only acted horrified once damage became visible.

But when children quietly suffered,

Everyone looked away.

Yua’s fingers trembled against her phone screen. Then she typed.

Did your mom know?

Tsubasa went still again. He stared at the message. Then lowered his eyes.

“…I don’t know.”

That answer alone was enough. Yua felt rage flood through her so suddenly her vision blurred.

That was a yes. Maybe not fully, probably not even directly, but somewhere deep down…that woman knew something was wrong.

And she still left him there.

Tsubasa laughed softly to himself. A small, exhausted sound.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Wrong.

Wrong wrong wrong.

You're wrong.

It mattered.

It mattered so much that Yua felt like her chest was splitting apart. Tsubasa genuinely believed his suffering had become too old to deserve anger anymore.

Abused children eventually became unworthy of justice.

Yua suddenly understood something terrifying. Tsubasa never hated the people who hurt him properly. He only hated the people who hurt her instead.

All of that hatred turned inward instead. That was why he spoke about himself like damaged furniture.

That’s why he acted as if being abandoned was logical, and why he kept trying to justify the adults who failed him.

Her grip tightened harder around the phone.

She wanted to kill them.

The thought came naturally now.

Haruki’s mother.

That grandmother.

Anyone who touched him.

Anyone who saw and ignored it.

Anyone who decided a child was disposable.

Yua wanted all of them gone.

And the worst part?

She knew Tsubasa would stop her if she tried.

Not because murder was wrong, but because he would think she was ruining herself for his sake. That realization made tears finally spill down her face. Tsubasa immediately noticed.

“…Hey.”

His voice softened instantly.

“There’s no reason for you to cry.”

That sentence destroyed something inside her completely. He was saying it as if his pain wasn’t something worth grieving over. Yua covered her mouth with one hand as silent sobs started shaking her shoulders. Tsubasa panicked slightly.

“Yua?”

He awkwardly reached toward her, hesitated midway, then gently rested his hand against her back. The same careful touch of someone terrified of doing something wrong.

Yua suddenly grabbed the front of his sleeve tightly.

Her nails twisted into the black fabric.

Tsubasa froze.

“…Yua?”

She couldn’t tell him.

Couldn’t explain what she was feeling.

Because if she typed it out right now…

“I want to kill them for what they did to you.”

–it would become real.

Instead, Yua just cried harder silently into his shoulder while funeral chants echoed endlessly around them.

And above the sound of prayers, above the sound of mourning, a single thought repeated inside her head over and over again.

I’ll save you.

Even if I have to become something horrible to do it.

——

By the time they returned to the Shirogane house, the sky had already gone dark. Nobody spoke much during the drive back. Her father looked exhausted. Tsubasa stayed beside her in the backseat, quietly staring out the window again.

Tokyo’s lights reflected faintly across his face. Yua couldn’t stop thinking about what he told her.

No. He didn’t tell her. He confessed to her about his worst fears.

Nobody spoke like that unless the memories had already rotted through them completely.

The car eventually stopped outside the house. Haruki’s mother opened the door for them almost immediately.

“Welcome back.”

Her voice was warm. She smiled gently at the two teenagers. Yua felt something dark twist violently inside her stomach.

That woman smiled at Tsubasa. At him. Like she had the right to.

Tsubasa smiled back automatically. Yua suddenly had to look away. If she kept staring, she genuinely thought she might lunge at her right there in the entrance hallway.

The smell of dinner filled the house. Something is simmering softly. Everything here felt painfully ordinary. That was the worst part.

People who destroyed children still lived inside normal houses.

Yua quietly excused herself before anyone could speak to her properly. Then she locked herself inside the guest room upstairs.

Silence.

The moment the door clicked shut, her entire body sagged violently. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking anymore.

She had one day left.

One.

Tomorrow she dies.

Tomorrow everything ends.

And suddenly that fact changed everything, because consequences no longer mattered.

School didn’t matter.

Her future didn’t matter.

Prison didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Yua slowly sat down on the floor beside the futon. Her thoughts spiraled so fast they almost stopped feeling like thoughts.

If she only had one day left…

Then what exactly was stopping her?

The room suddenly felt too small. Yua pressed both hands against her face. Her breathing became uneven again.

That woman abandoned him.

That grandmother hurt him.

And now Tsubasa walked around talking like suffering was something natural. Like pain was simply the correct shape of his existence.

No.

No no no.

That wasn’t normal.

None of it was normal.

Yua grabbed her phone with trembling fingers.

Then opened the notes app.

She didn’t fully understand why. Maybe because writing things down made them feel clearer. Maybe because she was trying to organize the chaos inside her head.

Instead, she typed:

If someone ruins a child’s life, do they deserve to keep living?

Her fingers hovered. Then continued.

If nobody punishes them, then what happens?

Another line.

If I’m dying tomorrow anyway, then why should I care?

Yua stared at the words. Something about seeing the thoughts physically written down made her stomach churn. Just like when she first wrote down her wishes in the bucket list. None of these thoughts sounded temporary anymore.

They sounded rational. That frightened her. She curled tighter against the wall. The room felt cold again.

Tsubasa’s voice replayed endlessly inside her head.

“Sometimes someone touches your shoulder normally, and your body reacts like you’re about to die.”

Yua squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to hurt. How old was he when that started happening? How long did he wait for someone to notice? Did he cry? Did he ask for help? Or did he learn immediately nobody was coming?

The image of little Tsubasa sitting alone somewhere quietly trying not to upset adults made something unbearable build inside her chest. She understood that feeling too well. The feeling of becoming smaller and smaller just to survive around someone.

Her thoughts shifted suddenly.

Haruki.

A cold realization crawled into her mind.

Does Haruki know?

No. He couldn’t. If he knew, he wouldn’t smile at her like that. He wouldn’t sit beside her normally. He wouldn’t casually flip through photo albums beside someone who abandoned his brother.

Brother.

The word itself made Yua feel dizzy. Haruki didn’t even know Tsubasa was his brother. Tsubasa still protected him anyway. Even after everything.

Why?

Why was he still so gentle to people?

Why wasn’t he angrier?

Yua suddenly slammed her phone down beside her hard enough to make a sharp cracking sound against the floorboards. Her breathing shook violently afterward.

Tsubasa thought he deserved it. That was the real horror. Somewhere along the way, Tsubasa accepted it as something reasonable. Yua’s vision blurred again.

One day left.

One day.

Tomorrow she disappears. Tomorrow, Tsubasa keeps living like this. Alone. Broken. Smiling like nothing happened.

The thought felt unbearable now.

Yua slowly looked toward the dark window beside her. Her reflection stared back faintly. For a moment, she barely recognized herself.

A crow perched on the tree stared back at her.

The person reflected in that animal’s eyes looked wrong.

Then another thought entered her mind.

What if I kill her tomorrow?

Yua froze.

The thought settled into the room heavily. Her breathing slowed.

Haruki’s mother would probably be alone at some point tomorrow. People lower their guard inside their own homes. Especially around children. Especially around girls like her.

Yua’s stomach twisted violently. A part of her had already started thinking practically. That realization terrified her more than the murder itself.

She quickly grabbed her phone again. Her fingers shook badly now.

Then she typed:

Am I becoming like him?

The moment the sentence appeared onscreen, Yua felt nauseous. This was how violence spread. One wounded person infects another. Pain reshapes itself into something sharp enough to pass onward.

Tsubasa killed monsters because nobody saved him from them. Yua understood why.

A quiet knock suddenly came from outside the room. Yua flinched violently.

“…Yua?”

Tsubasa.

His voice sounded soft through the door.

“You’ve been in here a while.”

Yua stared silently toward the entrance. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

Panic shot through her instantly. Yua immediately wiped her face roughly with her sleeve and grabbed her phone.

A pause outside. He could hear her scrambling.

“…Okay.”

Silence again. Yua stared at the door, then slowly lowered her eyes toward the notes app still open in her hands.

What if I kill her tomorrow?

The words stared back at her. Yua didn’t delete them. The silence outside her door stretched uncomfortably long.Yua stared at the sentence on her phone until the words almost stopped looking real. A soft sound came from outside the door again.

Not knocking this time, just quiet movement. Tsubasa was still there.

Yua slowly stood up from the floor. Her legs felt weak. When she opened the door slightly, Tsubasa was sitting against the hallway wall outside the room like a guard dog, or maybe someone making sure she didn’t disappear.

The dim hallway light cast a pale shadow across his face. He looked up immediately when the door opened.

“…You okay?”

Yua almost laughed.

The question felt absurd now.

Instead she typed slowly.

Why are you sitting outside the room?

Tsubasa glanced away awkwardly.

“You looked upset.”

A pause.

“So I got worried.”

That sentence hurt her more than it should have. After everything he told her earlier, he was still worrying about her.

Yua stared at him quietly. Tsubasa tilted his head slightly.

“…Did I say something wrong earlier?”

No. You said too much.

But she couldn’t type that because he would misunderstand. He would think she regretted hearing it. In reality, the problem was the opposite. Now she couldn’t unknow it.

Yua leaned against the doorframe. Tsubasa watched her carefully for a few seconds. Then his eyes lowered slightly.

“…You’ve been looking at me differently ever since the funeral.”

Yua froze.

Of course he noticed. Tsubasa noticed everything. Yua looked away immediately.

Tsubasa laughed softly under his breath.

“That obvious, huh…”

The hallway fell quiet again afterward. Downstairs, she could faintly hear dishes clinking together. Normal household sounds. It made her feel sick again. Tsubasa suddenly spoke quietly.

“…You shouldn’t think too hard about what I said earlier.”

Yua looked back toward him instantly. He smiled faintly.

“Really. It happened a long time ago.”

Wrong answer. Something ugly twisted inside her chest again.

A long time ago? That was supposed to make it better?

Tsubasa noticed the expression on her face and blinked slightly.

“…Yua?”

Her fingers moved faster now.

That doesn’t make it okay.

Tsubasa stared at the screen. Then smiled again.

“I know.”

No. No he didn’t. If he truly understood that, he wouldn’t speak about himself this way.

Yua felt her frustration spike suddenly.

Then why do you talk like it doesn’t matter?

Tsubasa’s expression faltered slightly. Only slightly. The hallway became quiet enough that Yua could hear the hum of the lights overhead. Tsubasa looked down at his hands.

“…Because it already happened. You can’t really stay angry forever.”

Yua’s stomach twisted violently.

Yes, you could.

She could feel it happening inside herself right now. The anger wasn’t fading. It was growing. Becoming heavier. Sharper.

Tsubasa leaned his head back against the wall.

“…Besides,” he said quietly, “some people are just bad at being parents.”

That sentence finally did it. Something inside Yua snapped again.

Bad at being parents?

No.

Forgetting birthdays was being bad at parenting. Burning dinner was being bad at parenting. Not scolding your child for their wrongdoings was bad parenting.

Abandoning your child to abuse was evil. Giving him to a monster who took advantage of him was evil. Leaving everything behind and acting like it never happened was evil.

Yua suddenly crouched down in front of him. Fast enough to visibly surprise him. Her fingers gripped her phone tightly.

Stop defending them.

Tsubasa went still. For the first time all day, his smile disappeared completely.

The hallway suddenly felt much colder. Yua’s breathing shook unevenly.

You talk about yourself as if you deserved it.

Tsubasa stared at the screen.

“…I never said that.”

YES YOU DID.

The words came out harsher than she intended when she shoved the phone toward him.

Every single thing you say sounds like you think this was normal.

Tsubasa’s eyes widened slightly. Yua’s hands shook violently now.

You were a child.

The sentence sat heavily between them. Tsubasa looked down at it silently. Yua could physically see the moment his expression changed. Tiny. Almost invisible,, but something behind his eyes shifted painfully. Like the words hit somewhere vulnerable.

“You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

That response terrified her instantly. Not because he sounded angry, but because he sounded sincere. Like he genuinely believed there was something she was missing that would justify everything.

Yua stared at him. Then typed slowly.

Then explain it to me.

Tsubasa opened his mouth slightly, then stopped.

Silence.

His expression became distant again. Not detached this time, but completely lost.

“…I can’t.”

The answer sounded almost ashamed. Yua felt her chest ache painfully. He genuinely couldn’t explain it.

The realization made her rage mutate into something uglier. Her thoughts drifted downstairs.

Haruki’s mother was probably still cleaning dishes. Probably smiling. Probably humming softly again as if she was not responsible for destroying somebody’s life.

Yua’s fingers curled tightly around her phone.

One day left.

Tomorrow she dies.

And before that, someone should finally suffer for what they did.

The thought appeared so naturally now that it barely startled her anymore. Tsubasa suddenly reached toward her carefully.

“…Hey.”

His fingers lightly touched her wrist. Yua flinched hard enough to make him immediately pull away. Both of them froze afterward. Tsubasa stared at her silently. Then lowered his hand.

“…Sorry.”

Yua’s stomach dropped instantly because of the expression on his face, which immediately suggested that withdrawal wasn’t a fear for himself. It was the fear of making her uncomfortable. She briskly walked down the hallway onto the stairs, ignoring Tsubasa’s apology completely.

His first instinct was always that he had done something wrong.

The realization made tears sting her eyes again. Tsubasa looked exhausted. Every interaction with another human being requires manual effort.

Tomorrow, Yua would be gone.

The thought hollowed her out instantly. Because if she died without doing anything, then Tsubasa would stay here.

With them. Still smiling. Still pretending. Still surviving. Alone.

She wasn’t thinking about murder because she wanted revenge anymore. She was thinking about it because she genuinely believed nobody else would save him.

Downstairs, she could faintly hear Haruki’s mother laughing again. The sound made her skin crawl.

How could someone sound that normal after destroying a child?

Her breathing became shallow.

One day left. Tomorrow she dies.

If she waited too long, she might lose the chance entirely. The thought arrived calmly now. Yua stood up slowly from the floor. Her legs felt numb.

For a moment, she thought about opening the notes app again. Writing things down. Organizing her thoughts. Instead, she quietly slipped her phone into her pocket.

The hallway outside was dark. Tsubasa was gone.

Probably downstairs. Probably sitting beside them normally again.

The image made something ache violently inside her chest.

Yua descended the staircase carefully. Every step creaked softly beneath her weight. The house smelled faintly like tea now.

And dish soap or laundry detergent. Ordinary smells. A normal family house.

That was what made this unbearable.

Haruki’s father was watching television in the living room. Haruki himself was laughing at something on his phone beside him.

Tsubasa sat nearby quietly. Smiling again. That same smile. That same unbearable smile. Then Yua saw her.

Haruki’s mother stood alone in the kitchen, washing dishes beneath the warm yellow light overhead. Her sleeves were rolled slightly past her elbows. She hummed softly to herself while rinsing plates beneath running water.

The sight made Yua feel detached from her own body suddenly. Because this was it. This was the woman. Not a monster, not some horrifying figure. Just a normal-looking middle-aged woman washing dishes in her kitchen. And that somehow made her feel even more evil.

Yua quietly stepped toward the kitchen entrance. Nobody noticed immediately. The television masked the sound of her footsteps. Haruki’s mother glanced up first.

“Oh? Yua-chan, are you feeling better?”

That gentle voice again. Yua stared at her silently. The woman smiled softly.

“Do you need something?”

Yua’s eyes drifted slowly across the kitchen. Knife block beside the cutting board. Sink. Stove. Ceramic plates are drying beside the counter.

Her thoughts became strangely calm.

If she grabbed the knife quickly—

No.

Stop.

Yua’s breathing shook once. Haruki’s mother tilted her head slightly.

“…Yua-chan?”

The woman looked concerned. Yua suddenly imagined Tsubasa as a child. Small. Quiet. Watching this same woman leave him behind.

Something surged violently through her chest. Her body moved before her brain fully caught up.

One step forward.

Then another.

The woman blinked in confusion.

“…Is something wrong?”

Yua’s fingers twitched slightly.

Knife block. Right there. One movement. One decision. That was all it would take.

The world around her suddenly felt distant. Muted. The television sounds blurred together.

Water running in the sink. The clock ticking somewhere nearby. Everything slowed strangely.

Her heartbeat pounded hard enough to hurt. The woman looked uneasy now.

“…Yua?”

Yua imagined blood suddenly. Too vividly.

The knife slipping.

The screaming afterward.

Haruki running into the kitchen.

Tsubasa seeing the body.

Tsubasa realizing what she did for him.

Her stomach twisted violently.

No.

Not “for him.”

To him.

Because he would have to live with it afterward.

The realization hit so hard it physically stopped her.

Tsubasa would never forgive himself.

Not for the murder.

For involving her in his pain at all. Yua suddenly saw the future clearly.

Tsubasa smiling that same broken smile while blaming himself for her becoming this way.

“I ruined her too.”

Haruki’s mother slowly turned the faucet off now. The kitchen became quieter.

“…You’re scaring me a little.”

Yua froze. The sentence snapped her fully back into reality. Her vision sharpened suddenly.

She was standing too close. Way too close. Her hands were shaking visibly. The woman’s expression had changed from concern to discomfort. Yua stepped backward immediately. The movement startled the woman slightly.

Yua quickly pulled out her phone with trembling hands.

Sorry. Didn’t feel well.

The lie barely looked coherent through her shaking fingers. Haruki’s mother relaxed slightly after reading it.

“Oh…”

A nervous laugh.

“You really worried me there.”

Yua felt sick. She really almost did it. The realization made cold nausea spread through her body. Haruki’s mother smiled awkwardly again.

“Do you want some water?”

Yua shook her head immediately. Then turned around before the woman could say anything else. Her legs moved too quickly down the hallway. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere. Inside her throat, her chest, and her fingertips.

When she reached the staircase,

“Yua?”

His voice behind her almost made her flinch. She turned around sharply. Tsubasa stood halfway out of the living room, now watching her carefully. His expression slowly shifted.

“…What happened?”

Yua stared at him silently. The kitchen light behind him cast warm shadows across the hallway.

Yua suddenly understood something terrifying. She was already closer to becoming like him than she wanted to admit. Her breathing became uneven again. Tsubasa stepped closer slowly.

“…Yua?”

She immediately looked away because if she looked directly at him right now. Then she might start crying, she might even confess everything. Instead she typed shakily onto her phone.

I’m tired.

Tsubasa watched her carefully for a long moment. Like he knew she was lying.

“…Okay.”

The guilt nearly crushed her instantly.

Yua went back upstairs without another word. Later that night, lying awake beneath the blanket, staring into the darkness, she made herself one final promise.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she would finish it properly.

She stared into the dark ceiling for a long time, her hand still wrapped around the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to her own body.

The house had already settled into sleep again. Her dad was sleeping peacefully beside her while Tsubasa was on the futon like yesterday.

Yua turned her head slightly toward the window. Her reflection was faint in the glass. Too faint. Like she wasn’t fully there anymore. It felt like a deadline her entire body had already agreed to.

And somewhere beneath all the shaking thoughts, beneath the fear and guilt and certainty and collapse, one thing remained, quiet and absolute:

If no one else was going to save him…

Then she would have to do it herself.

Even if it meant crossing a line she could never come back from.

Her fingers slowly tightened against the blanket.

And in the silence of the room, she finally made the decision real.

Tomorrow night, she wouldn’t hesitate again.

Why do you think she thought of it this way exactly?

It’s because Tsubasa has loved Yua with his whole heart.

And Yua wanted to love him back as well.

Day 6: I want to love someone and be loved back.