Chapter 7: A Game No One Wins

The silence stretched between us.

It was thick and heavy... settling like a weight in my chest.

[ Jane] avoided eye contact... Keeping her gaze fixed on the ground.

Her fingers brushed against the fabric of her pants, fidgeting just slightly.

Then, after what felt like forever, she opened her mouth.

"He sat in the chair f■rst."

Her voice was monochrome, tanged with something I couldn't describe.

"..."

It was like a locked door....

That I never had the key to open whatever was behind it.

I blinked, my mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.

She breathed slowly, her shoulders let out a shrug.

"I.... I really.. tried to offer my seat for him after I realized his mom really abandoned him...."

"But she didn't listen."

[ Jane's ] voice was steady, almost detached.

Though the way her lips pressed together, the way her fingers curled against her knees.... like wilted petals, holding onto something unseen.

[ It told a different story. ]

I felt my throat tighten.

"But... I didn't hear it??"

My voice cracked.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

"No one seemed to hear it?!??"

The words tumbled out, my head spinning in circles.

She finally looked up.

Her eyes, usually sharp and confident, held something else this time.

Like this isn't new to her.

She held my gaze for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

"I wonder why no one heard it…" she muttered, almost to herself.

"Especially his own mother." She added.

Her fingers tapped lightly against her leg, a nervous habit I've never seen before.

"...."

The air between us felt suffocating now.

"Maybe…" she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Maybe she didn't want to hear it."

Something about the way she said it sent a chill down my spine.

"Wh- why wouldn't–—"

Before I could finish, her hand shot up, covering my mouth.

It wasn't forceful, just a gentle but firm press against my lips.

Her palm was warm, though her fingers held the opposite.

Her eyes flickered to the side, and for the first time, my sences caught the smell of various delicacies.

"Food's coming."

Her voice had changed into something more... casual.

Like none of this mattered.

"Let's talk about this later."

She wispered, reaching into her small bag that she left sitting in a table.

Her hands found a water bottle.

She unscrewed the cap and took a sip, quickly drinking its content.

But I saw it.

The way her fingers clenched just slightly around the bottle.

Her gaze flickered to the chair like a ghost revisiting the place where it once lived – the same chair the boy had fought for, now being dragged away by someone else.

It scraped against the floor with a dull thud, knocking above another seat before finally settling.

And, while I looked onto her eyes, they felt like it carried a sense of...

REGRET

Not a big and dramatic regret...

Like the kind that would keep her up at night.

But the quiet, nagging kind.

[ Like a shadow stretching behind her... silent, unnoticed by most, but always following. ]

The kind that you push down, trying bury it under logic, telling yourself it's just a game, that games were always unfair.

But even so...

Even she couldn't completely ignore it.

————————————————————

The scent of warm food drifted through the cool evening air, rich and inviting even from a distance.

"Hmmm, their food smells great even from outside."

The girl-- [ Stephanie ], whom walked with our protagonist in the alleyway to school, exclaimed.

"..."

She looked onto the ground.

"It's been a while since she invited me after "TH■T".

Her voice was devoid of sadness.

[ Yet something about the way she said it made it heavier than if she had cried. ]

It's was just a simple observation, spoken like a fact.

A truth that didn't need any emotion attached to it.

She looked upon the darkening sky, its hues of pink and purple slowly fading into darkness, consuming what little light it left behind.

She lifted her head, her eyes locking onto the bustling house ahead. Laughter spilled from inside, blending with the hum of music.

She looked at it for only a second.

Then, without a word, she turned away.

Her footsteps quickened as she slipped into the narrow alley, each step echoing through the dimly lit space.

There, in the alley's shadows, a white-furred cat sat perched on a low wall.

Unlike the black-furred cat from before, this one was untouched by the filth of the world around it.

Unlike the black furred cat, it did not carry the scent of pain.

It did not know what it meant to suffer.

Yet, [ Stephanie's ] gaze was indifferent towards it.

Seemingly sensing the presence of [ Stephanie ], It looked back with it's sluggish eyes, then gracefully leapt onto the fence that guarded the luxurious house it called HOME.

It did not hesitate.

Nor did it struggle.

[ Stephanie's ] eyes followed it, her expression unreadable.

For a brief moment, something flickered in her gaze.

Something almost too faint to name.

But then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

She turned on her heel and kept walking.

Her movements were fluid and steady.

But her steps were faster than before.

And her fingers, curled at her sides, trembled just slightly.

"...."

The alley stretched before her, dark and endless.

The warmth of the house, the laughter.....

It was all behind her now.

And up ahead…

The road home felt longer than usual.

Then—–

A single streetlamp flickered out.

And for the first time that night, she realized just how cold it was.

————————————————————