Chapter 6: The Cut That Reveals

Kazuki walked, though there was no path.

The floor beneath him reflected every step—sometimes a second too late, sometimes too early. The mirrored world pulsed like it was breathing with him, or in spite of him. He clutched his chest where the ache had begun. It pulsed in time with something he couldn't explain. Something buried.

> "Find the shard," the reflection had said.

"The one that proves who you are."

But how?

Where?

What does it mean to prove you exist?

In the distance, a shape began to form. Not a figure—a doorway.

A jagged tear in the reflective ground, shaped like a human silhouette, hanging in midair. It was tall. Familiar. The same height as Kazuki.

And through the silhouette, he could see flashes of a hospital hallway.

His hospital room.

The beeping monitors.

The girl.

> "Is that… the real world?"

He stepped closer. But as he approached, the tear began to ripple. And then—it began to heal.

Panicking, Kazuki lunged forward.

But a hand caught his wrist.

He turned.

It was another him—but this one was afraid. Pale. His eyes wide, lips trembling. He looked younger. Smaller. Like Kazuki as a teenager.

> "Don't go through yet," the younger self whispered.

"You don't know what's on the other side."

Kazuki looked from the tear to the trembling boy.

"What are you?"

The younger Kazuki looked at the fading doorway with hollow eyes.

> "I'm the version of you that never questioned anything."

"The one that stayed asleep."

Kazuki felt his own voice catch.

The tear in space sealed completely. Gone. Like it was never there.

> "You hesitated," the boy said. "Now we're all trapped again."

Kazuki dropped to his knees.

The ache in his chest became a sharp throb. Burning. Demanding.

His hands shook.

And then he saw it.

A tiny splinter of glass poking out just beneath the skin over his heart—glowing faintly.

The shard.

> "If I pull it out…" he whispered.

> "You'll know," the boy said.

"But you'll never be able to un-know."

Kazuki placed his fingers on the shard.

It was warm. Alive.

And with a sharp breath—he pulled.