Chapter 21: The Final Lesson

  Shiro had never thought much about death.

  Not really.

  He had flirted with the idea before—briefly, in passing, when the weight of everything threatened to crush him.

  But now, as it crept toward him, as the cold from the shrine seeped into his veins, he realized something with startling clarity.

  He didn't want to die.

  Not yet.

  Not like this.

  The Faces He'll Never See Again

  His mind drifted—backwards, unraveling through memories he had locked away for years.

  Not just the halls of his school.

  Not just the betrayals.

  Home.

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  His family.

  His mother's voice calling him from the kitchen—soft but firm, a warmth he had never truly appreciated until now.

  His father's tired eyes, hidden behind glasses smudged with fingerprints from too many long nights at work.

  The quiet evenings when they ate dinner together—not happy, not sad, just together.

  For once, the anger receded.

  For just a moment, the weight of his hatred faltered, cracking under the realization that he would never step foot inside that house again.

  Never hear his mother nagging him about his messy room.

  Never hear his father sign over paperwork.

  Never hear their voices at all.

  And suddenly—he was crying.

  Not in silence.

  Not in anger.

  In desperation.

  "Please… just a little longer."

  He didn't know who he was begging.

  The gods? The shrine? The universe itself?

  It didn't matter.

  Because no one answered.

  The Raging Storm

  The grief lasted only a few moments.

  Then—rage.

  Pure.

  Unfiltered.

  Explosive.

  "Those bastards. Those liars. Those cowards."

  Every name flashed before his eyes.

  Ryo. Daiki. Everyone who had laughed. Everyone who had watched.

  "They took everything from me."

  His body trembled—not from weakness, but from fury.

  If he had the strength, he would tear them apart himself.

  Piece by piece.

  Bone by bone.

  "If I ever come back…"

  His breath shuddered.

  His vision blurred.

  "I'll make them suffer."

  The Last Breath

  Shiro's body was failing.

  The cold seeped in deeper.

  The shrine pulsed.

  His thoughts slowed, fragmented, slipping into the abyss one by one.

  His chest rose—one final time.

  And on that last breath—

  No regret.

  Not peace.

  Just rage.

  And the abyss whispered back.