Chapter 73 :Shadows of the Past and the Light of Forgiveness

The night had fallen.

The city shone under the cold halos of devices, screens, and neon lights. A sea of artificial light, alive and silent at the same time.

At the top of a skyscraper, two silhouettes sat in the shadows, motionless like modern gargoyles.

One of them wore a long black hooded coat. His face was hidden behind a white mask, without a mouth, with deep eye sockets tinted pure black.

Beside him, the other looked like he had stepped out of a bygone era. He wore a plague doctor mask — elongated crow's beak, opaque lenses — and a wide-brimmed black hat. His gloved hands rested calmly on his knees.

— The end is near, declared the muffled voice of the man with the white mask.

The other replied in a detached tone:

— Yeah. It's not far now.

A silence. Then:

— We will attack soon.

Farther away, elsewhere.

In a quieter, more intimate neighborhood, Sakolomé's house breathed the discreet warmth of nighttime hearths.

Outside, sitting on a step, Sakolomé stared at the sky. He hadn't moved for many minutes. The light wind barely made the leaves tremble.

Amu, his mother, saw him through the window. Worried, she went out quietly and approached him.

— What's wrong, Sakolomé? she asked softly.

— It's nothing, mother… he murmured without even turning his head.

For some time, Sakolomé had become even quieter than usual. He had always been discreet, it's true. But this… was something else. A heavy silence. Distant. As if his mind was elsewhere.

Amu sat down gently beside him.

— You know you can tell me anything, right?

Sakolomé slowly turned his head toward her. His eyes seemed to search for words.

— Actually… I have a bad feeling.

She moved a little closer.

— A bad feeling?

He nodded, then looked up at the stars.

— I don't know why, but… it's like something serious is coming. Something immense. Dark.

A moment of silence settled between them. Then Amu, in a calmer, deeper voice:

— And if that thing is as terrible as you think… do you think you can face it?

Sakolomé turned his head toward her, surprised by the question.

— Hmm…

Amu (sitting next to Sakolomé, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder):

You know… it's good to be able to feel things before they happen. Not everyone can do that. But sometimes, feelings can be… misleading too.

Sakolomé (lowering his eyes, slightly tense):

This one… it's not like the others. It's not just a vague fear. It's like… something is watching me from afar, something ancient.

Amu (breathes softly):

You know, when I was your age… well, maybe a little younger… I had a feeling too. A very strong one.

Sakolomé (looking at her, intrigued):

Oh yeah? What was it?

Amu (with a mischievous smile):

I was convinced that an evil spirit had settled in the house. I heard creaks, laughter at night. I even told my father that a demon was following me in the kitchen.

Sakolomé (a slight smile):

And what was it in the end?

Amu (bursting out laughing remembering the scene):

A fat old rat stuck in the wall. It ate leftover cookies and knocked over pots. A demon rat, maybe, but a huge fan of vanilla cookies!

Sakolomé (laughing despite himself):

You're kidding me...

Amu (laughing too):

I screamed so loud when it jumped out from behind a board that I woke up the whole neighborhood. Even the cats ran away! That was my great cosmic premonition.

Sakolomé (shaking his head, still laughing):

Are you serious? A fat rat...

Amu (gradually calming her laughter):

What I mean, my son… is that even when we feel dark things, it's not a reason to get lost in them. Sometimes it's serious. Sometimes it's just life reminding you to stay alert. In both cases, what matters… is to stay calm. Centered.

Sakolomé (more serene look):

You know, that helps me… you're really weird, but it helps.

Amu (gently tapping his head):

Weirdness is in our genes. And intuition too. So do like I did back then: observe, prepare… but above all, keep your heart light.

Sakolomé (sincere smile):

Yeah…

Amu (getting up):

Come on. I'll let you meditate on cosmic rats from beyond. Are you coming inside soon?

Sakolomé (still smiling, a bit thoughtful):

Yes. I'll stay a little longer.

Amu (walking quietly back toward the house):

But try not to wake me if you meet a rat tonight… unless it really talks and flies.

Sakolomé (murmurs, eyes on the sky):

Thanks, Mom…

He stays outside, calm, his gaze lost in the stars, a half-smile hanging on his lips.

The next day, around ten o'clock.

Grijan's higher school was bathed in soft light. The hallways echoed with footsteps, quiet conversations, muffled laughter. A peaceful atmosphere, almost too calm for what was coming.

In Sakolomé's classroom, everything still seemed normal. He and Sally were chatting quietly at their table, leaning toward each other.

— Seriously! exclaimed Sally, waving her hand, visibly exasperated.

— They talked again about a llama spitting on passersby in the street! It was on the news last night, can you believe it?

Sakolomé looked at her with an amused smile.

— A llama? Again?

— Yes! And the worst is they say it's the same one as last time. I'm telling you, if this becomes a habit, we're sinking into total nonsense.

Sakolomé burst out laughing.

— Sally, you're exaggerating. It's just a llama...

— A llama today, a goat tomorrow, and then what? An ostrich holding a kebab?

He shook his head smiling.

— You really have an unlimited imagination.

Sally shrugged, mock proud.

— I'm trying to open people's eyes.

As they laughed together, a figure approached their table. The laughter stopped. Silence fell, almost involuntarily.

Oscar had just entered the classroom.

His face was partially hidden under bandages. A thin strip of gauze ran around his head, and a slight bruise still colored his left cheek. The fight against Salomé had marked him, apparently deeper than he let on.

He approached them.

Sally crossed her arms, wary.

Sakolomé raised an eyebrow slightly.

Oscar stopped in front of them, hands in his pockets.

— Hi, you two… he said hesitantly.

— Sorry, Sakolomé… I want to talk to you about something. If you don't mind. In the hall.

Sakolomé stood up without suspicion.

— Sure. I'm curious to know what it is.

The two boys left the room. The noise of conversations faded behind them, replaced by the distant echoes of footsteps in the deserted hallways.

They stopped near a wall. Sakolomé leaned against it calmly, arms crossed.

— So? What do you want to talk about?

But Oscar didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor. He seemed to be searching for his words, or rather… the courage to say them.

Sakolomé studied him for a moment, intrigued.

Then he saw it.

The discomfort. The guilt.

— Oscar? he asked, more seriously.

And Oscar finally breathed out, in a broken voice:

— I… I'm sorry, Sakolomé.

Sakolomé raised his eyebrows, surprised.

— What?

Oscar slowly lifted his eyes to him. His gaze was blurry, clouded with a mixture of shame, fatigue… and a strange relief.

— I'm sorry, Sakolomé. For everything.

He paused, took a deep breath.

Then he spoke.

— I've always been... the cool guy. You know? The one everyone wanted as a friend. The strongest, the toughest, the one people dared to challenge but secretly admired. That was me. I had that role.

He clenched his fists, lowering his head again.

— And then you came. Sakolomé Satsujin Otoko. The descendant of the Killer Man... A lineage of killers, outcasts, guys who left deep scars in history.

— Just your name… commanded respect. Without you having to say a word. Just because of your blood.

Oscar straightened slightly, looking Sakolomé straight in the eyes.

— You didn't ask for any of this. You were just there. And yet, your presence… it could have erased me. You would have become "the interesting guy," "the mysterious one," the one people watched silently, feared a little… even without proof.

— And me? I would have become a shadow. A memory.

He shook his head bitterly.

— So I panicked. I told myself I had to do something before all that happened. Anything. Force you to be my friend, or make you hated by everyone. I needed to take back control. To extinguish your light so my shadow would look big again.

He turned away slightly, eyes lost in the void.

— I knew who you were long before you spoke. I knew your name, your story, your heritage. But I pretended to discover everything at the same time as the others. I played the act. Because I wanted to be on the same level as you, start from zero. But… you weren't like in my imagination.

He turned back to Sakolomé, eyes shining.

— I expected a cold, arrogant, violent guy... like the legends said. But instead, I saw a calm, polite, even kind guy. Someone who listened in class, helped those who struggled, who spoke little but well.

He gritted his teeth.

— And that's when I decided to break you. Put you down. Provoke you. Make you look like a monster.

— I wanted to force the Killer Man out. Make you make a mistake. Make you explode. So I could say: "See? He's not so different from his lineage."

He paused.

— But you never cracked.

— You took it. Always with that calm look, that way of not responding to violence.

— And me… I kept going. Because I was too proud, too stupid to stop.

His shoulders slumped.

He looked… pathetic.

— You didn't deserve that, Sakolomé.

— You might come from a family like yours… but you never tried to hurt anyone.

— Exceptions exist, that's clear now. But what I did to you… what I tried to do… could have changed you. Pushed you to become what you spent your life not being.

His voice cracked slightly.

He breathed once more, throat tight.

— I'm really sorry, Sakolomé. I was selfish. I only thought about myself. I wanted too much to stay number one… And I screwed up. Really.

A long silence fell between them.

Sakolomé stared at him, silent.

Sakolomé, looking at the ground, murmurs:

— I see...

Oscar:

— I'm really sorry, Sakolomé… I was too stubborn about this pseudo-fame, I didn't want to lose it, and...

Suddenly, Sakolomé gently places a hand on his shoulder. A calm, sincere gesture. That is enough to silence Oscar.

Sakolomé (with a friendly smile):

— Don't do it again, okay?

He is about to leave.

Oscar, frozen, watches him walk away. His eyes widen:

— That's… that's all you have to say? After all the harm I did to you?

Sakolomé stops without turning around.

— You wanted me to say something else?

Oscar lowers his head, confused:

— No, but… it's just that…

Sakolomé looks up at the ceiling. Silence weighs for a second.

— Oscar...

Oscar slowly lifts his head, meets Sakolomé's gaze.

Sakolomé (sincerely):

— I thank you.

Oscar is speechless.

— Wh-what?

Sakolomé smiles. No mockery. An honest, gentle smile:

— The fact that you could recognize your mistake towards me. The fact that you came to talk to me. That's very admirable, you know? Especially for someone as proud as you…

Oscar lowers his head, unable to hold that gaze.

Sakolomé (calm, a little distant):

— You know, everything you made me go through… it's kind of routine for me.

Oscar (shocked):

— Huh?

Sakolomé continues, tone serious but steady:

— My big brother Bakuzan, me, my little brother Bakuran and my sister Salomé… because of our name, our blood… we spend our days taking insults, rejection, contempt. Over and over… Very few take the time to really know us. When a rumor is born, it becomes your truth. And you don't have the right to contest it. You can talk, explain yourself… but no one will listen.

He pauses, thoughtful:

— The world likes balance, you know. There must be a good guy… and a bad guy. One admired. And one despised. And sometimes, that good guy, to seem even more admirable… uses the one everyone hates.

Sakolomé turns his gaze back to Oscar, this time more seriously.

— They often say: "Killing someone makes you a monster… but killing an enemy in everyone's eyes makes you a hero."

Oscar's eyes widen, his breath catches. These words hit hard. What he did to Sakolomé… reduce him, crush him, make him look like the "bad guy," to shine himself better…

Oscar (in a low voice):

— It's… it's really unfair...

Sakolomé (with a calm smile):

— But you knew how to recognize all that. You had the courage to come. And that, Oscar… you didn't have to. You could have just stopped without saying anything. But you chose to face the truth. That's very noble.

Oscar blushes slightly. A shy smile appears.

Sakolomé scratches his chin, thoughtful:

— Hey, Oscar… are you free this afternoon?

Oscar (surprised):

— Huh?

— Sally and I were planning to go eat noodles and cakes nearby. So…

(He closes his eyes with a big warm smile.)

— Would you like to join us?

Oscar, eyes shining, answers enthusiastically:

— Yes! With pleasure! I'd really like that… especially since…

(He scratches the back of his head, embarrassed.)

— To recover from the shock Salomé caused us, my friends and I… we had to spend quite a bit. So now, I have no pocket money left… so right now, I have like… nothing at all...

Sakolomé (raising an eyebrow, a little surprised):

— Huh?

They look at each other… and burst out laughing together.