[Content Warning: This chapter contains themes that may not be suitable for all readers.]

  (All characters and settings in this work are fictional. Any resemblance to real-life persons or events is purely coincidental.)

  I buried a cat today, and if I'm being honest, I don't think I'll be far behind.

  Pit. Pat

  The rain pattered softly against the earth, an almost sad and rhythmic sound, each droplet drowning in its own sorrow.

  I stood there, frozen, at the edge of this little grave I'd dug for the cat.

  My hands were cold, wet soil clinging to my fingers as I gently placed the small, lifeless body into the shallow hole.

  The rain soaked through the fabric of my work uniform, but I barely felt it.

  It wasn't much, what I was doing. But it was all I could give. A cat that didn't deserve to die at the hands of reckless boys—or Leon’s ignorance.

  Their laughter still echoed in my mind, mocking beyond the cat's grave. I didn't care anymore. Or I shouldn't have. But damn it, it still stung.

  ...

  No

  If I dug deeper.

  That wasn't the real pain. The real pain would be the fact that I couldn't protect something so small. Something so defenseless. The cat… it was supposed to be my redemption, my act of kindness.

  But fate had other plans, didn't it?

  I lingered there for a moment, letting the rain wash away the regret, the guilt, and the anger. The world felt like it was pressing down on me, a heavy weight I couldn't shake off.

  But that type of muck isn't something that washes off easily.

  No, instead it stays.

  Lingering.

  I stepped back, brushing dirt off my jeans. "Sorry, buddy," I muttered. "Guess we both got screwed by fate."

  The cat didn’t answer, obviously. She was better off.

  Bzzzt—

  My phone buzzed. Vibrating against my pocket.

  I didn't want to look at it. Not now. Not after everything.

  But I did anyway.

  The screen lit up, and for a split second, I thought it might be a call from Mom.

  [HAIJIN HOSPITAL]

  It wasn't.

  Every muscle in my body was screaming against it, pleading for me to not answer; of course I was a stubborn man... And so my finger swiped the answer.

  A short pause before elevating the phone to my ear.

  Now that I think back, I should've listened.

  The phone barely reached its destination; I hadn't even had the time to put it on speakerphone , let alone speak, before the words came rushing through, clear but distant, as if they weren't meant for me:

  "Your mother… she's gone. Heart attack. It was sudden... I'm sorry."

  …

  What?!

  ...

  Gone?

  …

  No.

  And just like that. That final thread of stability in my life had snapped.

  The one person who had ever believed in me was gone.

  Just as quick as the raindrops came.

  I could feel my chest tightening. It felt like the air had been sucked out of me, and the world...

  What of the world?

  My body gave out, sinking to my knees, my hands shaking, fingers gripping the wet soil like it was the only thing holding me together.

  The rain mixed with my tears; I hadn't even realized I was crying.

  The world had never made sense, but this?

  This was the final nail in the coffin.

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  Everything felt like a game, and I was just a pawn, shuffled around by the whims of fate.

  My mother was gone, and I didn’t even get the chance to tell her I loved her...one last time.

  What was the point?

  Was there ever one?

  Was I just meant to lose everything?

  The last thing I said to her wasn't even important. I hadn't even said goodbye.

  My world began to crumble.

  Sorry.

  No.

  My world had already crumbled; I just didn't realize it.

  …

  Pathetic, isn't it?

  Everything just felt like some twisted nightmare; it was easier to blame it on the unseen, but if it was, I desperately wanted to wake up.

  My last memory of my mother was of her laughing at my attempt to cook dinner for her. "It's not the best, but it’s made with love," she had said before teasing me about burning the toast.

  If only I could go back.

  If only I could hear her voice again—just once more. If only I had a second chance.

  But life wasn’t fair, was it?

  No, that privilege only belonged to those damned main protagonists—the chosen ones, the golden boys who got to turn back time and fix their mistakes.

  Regression, please! Pick me!

  I’m begging here!

  Unfortunately.

  I never did wake up.

  So I stood there, staring at the grave, staring at the churned-up earth, realizing something.

  I'm just delaying the inevitable.

  That's how I ended up here, on this rooftop.

  Gripping the edge of this concrete wall, my breath coming in shaky bursts.

  What was I doing?

  What the hell was the point of all this? I had no plan. No grand idea.

  The rain continued its slow descent, tormenting me as it fell.

  Pity, maybe.

  But everything I had cared about was gone.

  I had nothing left.

  The only thing was that feeling. Deep in my chest. That twisted hunger for release.

  Is this how it ends?

  Memories from the day rushed in—like a flood, a torrent of everything that had led me here.

  I stood there.

  Still.

  I gestured with my hands.

  And suddenly, I started laughing. Uncontrolled. The kind of laugh you get when you can't take any more of the bullshit.

  "Bullshit," I muttered under my breath. "What a stupid arc. If this is it, then let's call it my final act."

  I looked down at the pavement below. It seemed so far away, like a different world. I could see the old skyline from here, looking as pathetic as I was.

  I shuffled closer to the edge.

  About to let it all go, to end it all, when a strange chill swept across already existing cold.

  It felt like the storm had grown louder, but no thunder came.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up... I wasn’t alone anymore.

  Suddenly, the air was interrupted by a faint noise.

  Clapping.

  Slow and deliberate.

  A figure stepped out from the shadows, their presence sudden. I didn't look up though. My mind was too full of everything—too lost in the chaos of my thoughts.

  "That...was...beautiful,” a formal and masculine voice spoke out.

  Their voice is what my eyes reacted to, swinging around to see who it was.

  Security?

  A guard?

  A man?

  No.

  A thing.

  Tall. Slender. Dressed in a pristine black suit.

  And where his face should have been—

  A deer head.

  With gleaming, curved antlers and empty, soulless eyes.

  He tilted his head slightly, a wicked grin forming on lips that shouldn’t have been there.

  I stared.

  What. The. Hell.

  “So tragic, so perfectly executed. You played the side character well. It’s a pity you didn’t understand your role sooner."

  It broke through the storm of my thoughts, and a surge of anger and confusion hit me like a slap.

  I turned slowly, narrowing my eyes at the strange figure standing beside me. "What... do you want?" I said in a weary tone.

  The deer-man grinned like he'd been waiting for this moment. He reached up, pulling a lollipop from his mouth, casually tossing it aside.

  "Deer me, where are my manners? Damian, at your service." He gave a bow before standing upright again.

  "There is only one thing I want in this world, Yuki, just one." He paused. As if searching for this profound 'one thing.'

  What sent shivers down my spine, was how he knew my name.

  "H-how do you know my name?"

  To that question he only brought his finger to his lips.

  Ssshhh

  And then continued speaking.

  "All I want is a perfect story, A story where everything goes the way it is meant to." He took a pause.

  "And you, Yuki Herro, are exactly the character I’ve been looking for." he had said this with a playful tone, far too playful.

  I didn't even flinch when he reached into his mouth and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

  He held it up like it was the most normal thing in the world.

  "Here," he said, his smile growing wider. "Take a look."

  I recoiled instinctively. "I'm not reading that," I muttered, though it felt weak.

  "I have no idea where that thing's been."

  But the deer man wasn't having any of it. With one smooth motion, he shoved the paper into my hands, forcing me to take it.

  "You will," he insisted, his voice shifting from playful to almost commanding.

  With a sigh, I unfolded the paper.

  "You could have at least wiped the saliva off it." I said, shaking my hands.

  As I began to read, the words on it seemed far too familiar, far too strange. My eyes scanned, line for line, and it felt like the world itself stopped.

  Everything was there. My actions. My decisions. Everything that had already happened.

  It was all written down—like my life was nothing more than a script.

  I frowned. "This is… some kind of joke, right?"

  "No joke," the deer man replied with that same wicked smile.

  "This is your life, Yuki. You were always meant to play the side character. That's your role. But this script?" He paused, leaning in closer.

  "It's not over. You're not done acting just yet."

  I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his words.

  I clenched the paper in my hand, crumpling it slightly.

  "I'm done with this. I'm done with all of it. No more acting, no more sideshows."

  The deer man's grin only widened.

  "Oh, I'm afraid that's not up to you. You don't get to decide when the curtain falls. The story is bigger than you."

  And like everything I've lost, the paper flared to life, burning my hand, causing me to instinctively drop it to the ground; symbolic as it was, it began to burn, brighter and brighter, despite the onslaught of rain.

  It felt like my whole life was burning right along with it.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I couldn't stop it.

  Was this my fate? To be nothing more than a page, caught in someone else’s story?

  I winced in reaction to the burn as a scar began to form.

  The deer-man raised his hand and gestured a pushing motion, no, more rather a swatting motion, like he was shooing a fly.

  WOOSH!

  The fly was me

  I felt it before I saw it—an oppressive weight settling on my chest.

  His hand glowed with an unnatural light, and it seemed to push at me, throwing me forward.

  My body jerked, as if I were caught in a current I couldn’t escape.

  The ground beneath me tilted.

  I could hear him laugh—a dark, mocking sound that swallowed the world around me.

  "You will play your part, whether you like it or not," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

  The edge of the rooftop seemed to swallow me whole as the deer man stood there, unwrapping another lollipop.

  My heart raced as I fell, the wind whipping around me.

  I heard his voice echoing in my ears as I descended.

  "You think you're done? The show's just getting started, Yuki. Enjoy the fall—it's the only freedom you'll get." He said, as he turned to leave.

  For a moment, I thought I might be flying.

  But no.

  It was just a fall.

  A long, inevitable fall.