My name is Kurai Akemi.
I don't remember when I first realized I was alone. Perhaps I was always alone, born into solitude like a wilted flower in an empty field. My father left before I could form a single memory of him. I knew him only from old photographs—smiling, happy, standing next to my mother, who still had light in her eyes back then. But those eyes became hollow after he left, as if he had taken her soul along with him.
She never spoke of him, never answered my questions about where he had gone. I only knew he had another family, another daughter—someone else who called him 'Papa.'
I wasn't his daughter anymore.
---
My mother wasn't always cruel. There were days she would run her fingers through my hair, murmuring about how beautiful I was, how much I looked like him. But those moments never lasted. They were like candle flames flickering in the wind—fragile, fleeting, and easily snuffed out.
Most nights, she was silent, sitting on the couch staring at nothing. Other nights, she would drink, and on those nights, her anger found its way to me.
"It's your fault he left!" she would scream, her hands shaking as she grabbed whatever she could—a book, a slipper, sometimes just her fists. "If you weren't born, he'd still be here!"
I learned not to cry. Crying made it worse. Crying made her angrier.
I kept hoping, though.
Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe next week. Maybe one day, she would love me like she used to.
Maybe one day, someone would love me.
---
School was my escape.
I didn't have friends, but I didn't need them. As long as I had a desk, a book, and a window to stare out of, I could pretend I was somewhere else.
Nobody talked to me. I was 'that girl'—the quiet one, the weird one. The one people whispered about but never approached.
I didn't mind. It was better this way. If no one got close, no one could hurt me.
But then... the letter appeared.
It was under my desk, folded neatly with my name written on the front in careful handwriting. My hands trembled as I picked it up, heart hammering against my ribs.
Kurai Akemi, please meet me after school under the sakura tree.
I read it over and over, afraid I was dreaming.
Someone had written to me.
Someone wanted to meet me.
---
I stood beneath the tree, my fingers twisting the hem of my skirt, waiting.
He came minutes later.
Tall, confident, with messy hair and a boyish grin—he was nothing like me. He was the volleyball team's ace, one of the most popular boys in school. I knew his name—everyone did.
"You actually came," he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "I was kinda scared you wouldn't."
I didn't know what to say.
"I—I like you," he blurted out, his face turning red. "I've been watching you for a while. I think you're... beautiful. And I want to get to know you."
I stared at him, unable to process the words. No one had ever said something like that to me before.
No one had ever looked at me like that before.
Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. He panicked, stepping closer. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry, I—"
I shook my head. "No. It's just..." I wiped my eyes, laughing bitterly. "No one's ever said that to me before."
He looked at me, really looked at me, and smiled.
"Then I'll say it as many times as you need."
---
We started dating.
It was like stepping into a dream. He took me to places I had only ever seen in books—cafés, arcades, amusement parks. He held my hand, called me beautiful, kissed my forehead when I was sad.
I had never felt so warm before. So loved.
Then, one day, he kissed me.
It was soft, hesitant, filled with emotion. My hands shook as I clutched his shirt, my heart hammering against my chest.
I wanted time to stop in that moment.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was worth something.
---
The night he died, I was waiting for him.
Sitting at my desk, my phone in my hands, waiting for a message that never came.
The next morning, I found out why.
A truck. A little girl. He had pushed her out of the way.
He had saved her.
He was gone.
I didn't cry.
I didn't scream.
I just sat there, staring at my phone, rereading our last conversation over and over until the letters blurred.
Hey, Akemi. Can I see you tomorrow?
Tomorrow.
A tomorrow that never came.
---
I returned after school, my feet moving on their own, my body numb.
Room No. 7 was empty.
What was the point?
My father abandoned me.
My mother never loved me.
The only person who ever made me feel human was gone.
I reached for my scarf, wrapping it around my neck, tying it to the fan above me.
The fabric felt soft against my skin, like his hands when he used to hold me.
I took a deep breath.
I don't know how I got here.
Standing in the middle of this dark, hollow clubroom. My breaths came in short, shallow gasps. My mind replayed Yuuji's laugh, the warmth of his hand in mine, the way he whispered my name like it was something precious.
All gone.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, loud and deafening, but my mind was empty.
I just wanted the pain to stop.
I just wanted to see him again.
As I kicked the chair away, the scarf jerked violently. My body convulsed, instinctively struggling against the grip of death. My legs flailed, my nails clawed at my throat, but the noose only tightened, burning, suffocating. My vision blurred, darkening, as my lungs screamed for air.
But there was none.
The last thing I heard was the creaking of the rope… and then silence.
---
Darkness.
And then... nothing.
---
I opened my eyes.
I was still in Room No. 7. But something was different.
I felt... cold. Hollow. Like something had been ripped out of me.
I turned, looking into the window.
And that's when I saw her.
A girl with pink hair. A girl with pink eyes.
A girl who looked exactly like me.
She stared back at me from the reflection, her expression unreadable. Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.
"From now on," she whispered, "no lovers shall leave this room alive."
And I understood.
I wasn't Kurai Akemi anymore.
I was something else.
Something that didn't belong in this world.
And I was never leaving Room No. 7.
---
"Love is a fragile lie,"
---
I lifted my gaze, finding myself within the body of this foolish girl. Her emotions swirled within me—so deeply, hopelessly in love. Ayase Aoi… That was her name. And the boy standing before her, the one who made her heart race, was the object of her devotion. No—he was more than that. He was her everything. But she was not alone in this. The other three girls beside her harbored the same love, the same foolish longing.
How pathetic.
They stood there, blissfully unaware, basking in fleeting happiness. But happiness is fragile. It shatters so easily. They have yet to realize the cruel fate that awaits them. I will make sure of it.
---
END OF CHAPTER : 30 : KURAI AKEMI!