The rooftop was silent, save for the faint hum of the city beyond the school walls. A cold breeze swept through, rustling the loose strands of Ayane's dark purple hair as she stood near the edge, arms crossed, eyes locked onto me.
I had known this conversation was coming. Ever since she stepped into that classroom and called my name, I knew.
Still, standing here now, with her gaze burning into mine, I couldn't deny the way my chest tightened.
She had always been intense. Fiercely determined. Unshakable.
But this wasn't the same Ayane I once knew.
This Ayane radiated something darker—colder. A blade honed for a single purpose.
"I should thank you," she said, her voice light, almost amused. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have found my purpose."
I didn't speak. I let her continue.
She took a slow step closer, each movement deliberate. "You see, Ken, after you threw me away, I had nothing. No home. No name worth remembering. Just the weight of your words and the realization that I was nothing more than a disposable tool to you."
I met her gaze, unreadable. "And that's what you think happened?"
Her smile sharpened. "Isn't it?"
I didn't answer. There was no point.
"At least, that's what I thought," she went on. "But then—he found me."
Something in my chest twisted.
Ayane tilted her head slightly, her fingers brushing against her sleeve. "He was the one who showed me the truth. The one who helped me realize what I really was to you. A tool, a convenience, something to discard when I was no longer useful." Her gaze darkened. "And he was the one who made sure I'd never be that weak again."
I kept my expression blank, but my fingers curled slightly at my side.
"Who is he?" I asked, voice steady.
Her smirk didn't waver. "You don't get to ask questions, Ken. Not anymore."
I exhaled slowly. "So, that's what this is? Revenge?"
"Call it what you want." She shrugged. "I prefer to see it as balance."
She took another step forward, closing the distance between us. "He gave me a hand when you left me with nothing. Trained me. Prepared me. And now?" Her smirk deepened. "I'm here to take everything from you."
I let a small pause hang between us.
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"By making sure you have nothing left to hide behind."
She stepped even closer, her voice dropping slightly. "I'm going to expose you, Ken. Tear down that little mask of yours. Drag you back into the world you tried so hard to leave."
No hesitation. No doubt.
This wasn't an act of anger or desperation. She wasn't here to confront a past she couldn't let go of. She was here to destroy me, plain and simple.
I should have felt dread. Fear, even.
Instead, I felt… nothing.
If she wanted a villain, I could give her one.
If she wanted a game, I'd play along.
Because at the end of the day, I was already a ghost. There was nothing left for her to ruin.
I held her gaze, unreadable. "And then what?"
She blinked. "What?"
"After you destroy me." I tilted my head slightly. "Then what?"
For the first time, she hesitated. It was brief—almost imperceptible—but I caught it.
She scoffed, shaking her head. "You don't get to turn this around on me."
I let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm just curious."
"Curiosity won't save you."
"Never said it would."
Her eyes flashed, irritation flickering beneath the surface. "You think this is a joke?"
"Not at all," I said easily. "You're the one standing here, wasting your breath, instead of finishing what you started."
Her fingers twitched slightly.
I took a step closer, voice quieter now. "So, what's stopping you?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she just stared at me, her expression unreadable.
Then, after a moment—
She smiled.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't amused.
It was cold. Calculated.
"You really want to know?" she murmured.
I didn't respond.
She leaned in just slightly. "Because I want you to see it coming."
Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
"I want you to feel it," she continued. "The way I did."
She stepped back, as if giving me space, but her eyes never wavered.
"I want you to know exactly when your world is about to collapse, and I want you to be powerless to stop it."
I stared at her.
And then—
I smiled.
Slow. Empty.
"If that's the case," I murmured, "you're going to have to try harder."
Her expression didn't change.
She simply held my gaze, as if weighing something unspoken.
Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.
The game had begun. And I already knew how it would end.
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