"Why am I here?" I demand, feeling a strange mix of frustration and bewildernt as I stand face-to-face with him—my forr self, Nagi Travers. He stands casually, with that all-too-familiar smirk I’d hoped never to see again.
Nagi seems unfazed by my frustration. "Don’t panic too much," he says, his voice eerily calm. "We’re not in that white-encased world you end up in after you die." He lets out a low chuckle, as if this is just another one of his jokes.
"Huh?" It’s all I manage to get out, the only word that feels remotely close to what’s swirling in my mind. I can’t grasp what he’s talking about or why he’s even here, standing in front of like so kind of ghost from my past. Everything around us is a strange haze, as if we’re in a dream I can’t wake from.
"We’re inside you," he explains, his gaze unwavering. "Or, to make it simpler, we’re inside your consciousness."
I stare at him, trying to process his words. Inside... my consciousness? I glance around, but there’s nothing familiar here, no tangible sign that could explain this strange place. It’s not the afterlife, nor the real world. The air feels heavy, pressing down on my chest, almost suffocating.
Nagi continues, his tone unchanging. "It seems like you were having so... inner turmoil, and that’s what brought out here."
I grit my teeth. "What are you saying?"
His smirk fades, replaced by a more solemn look. "Are you still refusing to accept the truth?" He sighs, almost disappointed. "Every ti you hear the word ’bullying,’ your mind becos unstable. It shakes you to your core, doesn’t it?"
I narrow my eyes at him, anger bubbling up. "What are you even talking about? You’re not making any sense!" My voice rises, frustration spilling over.
He ets my gaze calmly, ignoring my outburst. "I know this because I am you." His words are steady, firm, unaffected by my anger.
The way he says it sends a chill down my spine. . Nagi Travers, the person I used to be, the one I thought I’d left behind. His presence is too vivid, too real, like a part of I thought I could bury but that’s clawing its way back out. I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, but I feel like I’m sinking.
", Nagi, your past self," he continues, his eyes intense, "and you, Will—the reincarnator. We’re both here, in the sa body. We’re supposed to always be together, but... every ti you hear that word, your mind becos... chaotic."
I cross my arms, a defensive gesture, though his words are gnawing at . "Fine. Let’s say, for argunt’s sake, that I believe you. Then what do you want?"
At my question, he pauses, his face softening. Then, to my surprise, he kneels down, pressing his forehead to the ground, as if bowing in complete surrender. His shoulders slump as if he’s carrying the weight of sothing too heavy to bear alone.
"Please, Will," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I beg you... please conquer our trauma." He remains there, unmoving, waiting for to answer.
I stare at him, a hollow ache growing in my chest. Trauma. My trauma. His trauma. The mories swirl back, sharp and bitter, the faces of those who made my life a waking nightmare in the past. Their voices echo in my mind, their laughter, their taunts—a pain I thought I’d escaped by becoming soone else.
"Conquer our trauma?" I repeat, my voice sounding small and distant. I et his eyes, desperate for so explanation.
He looks up, eyes pleading, desperate. "Save that girl. Please... stop the bullying."
The words hit like a punch to the gut, and I step back instinctively, shaking my head. "I can’t," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but it trembles despite my best efforts. "That’s her fault for not paying what she owed. Why should I get involved?"
"Stop being scared of Jake and Mary!" he shouts suddenly, his voice breaking with urgency. "You have the power to stop it now! Please, Will, use it!"
Jake. Mary. The nas ring in my ears, their faces flashing in my mind like ghosts haunting from my past life. Jake with his towering fra and sadistic smirk, Mary with her icy eyes and sharp words. I see them as clearly as if they were here, their shadows looming over , reminding of every cruel thing they’d ever done.
Even now, with this power I possess, just thinking about them sends a wave of dread through . The fear coils in my stomach, cold and relentless.
"Just rembering their faces..." I choke out, clenching my fists as the mories flood back. "Just rembering them makes this scared. And now... now you’re asking to help soone else who’s being bullied?" My voice rises, frustration and pain tangling together, spilling out in a rush of words I can’t hold back.
Nagi watches silently, not a trace of judgnt in his gaze, but that almost makes it worse. He knows, he understands. I’m shouting at him, yet he’s the only one who truly knows how deep this fear runs. He’s seen it firsthand, lived it, just as I have.
I can’t stand the look in his eyes. It’s like he’s seeing right through , past the walls I’ve put up, past the person I’m trying to beco.
"I couldn’t even think about fighting back against Jake and Mary!" I shout, the words scraping against my throat. "And now you... you want to stop soone else’s bullying? I’m just supposed to act like I’m strong enough to do that?"
The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy, broken only by the faint echoes of my own words. My breaths co fast and shallow, my chest tight as I try to fight back the storm of emotions building up inside.
"You know it too," Nagi’s voice trembled, but his eyes burned with a sorrowful intensity. "I always regret it... just letting myself get bullied and accepting it." His shoulders shook, the words spilling out like a confession he’d held back for years. "I always found reasons, excuses—’They’re strong,’ ’I can’t fight back,’ ’I’m weak.’" He let out a shaky breath, his head still bowed as he clung to the ground, as if he might slip away if he let go. "And I let them do whatever they wanted." His fists clenched, knuckles whitening as he stared at the floor beneath him. "But deep down... I just wanted to escape."
A single tear traced a path down his cheek, then another, until his face was wet, his sorrow and sha laid bare. "If it weren’t for that kid..." He choked, his voice raw. "If it weren’t for that kid crossing the street, I might have... I’d have just given up, hung myself right there."
I felt a sharp pang in my chest, his words hitting harder than any punch. There was a hollow, empty pain echoing in his voice, a reminder of my own fear, my own regret, and all the tis I’d let them win. He wasn’t just talking about himself; he was talking about —my past, my pain, and my deepest sha.
"But now..." His voice cracked, but he didn’t stop. "Now we have the power to stop it." He lifted his head, eting my eyes with a fierce resolve, his expression no longer just sorrow but sothing steely, sothing unbreakable. "Didn’t we promise that we’d live without regrets?" His words struck like a slap, forcing to confront the truth that I’d been running from. "So... don’t run away this ti, Will. Don’t escape!"
His plea echoed through my mind, shattering the walls I’d built to keep my past self locked away. Tears began to blur my vision, welling up as the weight of his words sank in. He was right. I could feel it in my bones, my soul. The regret, the anger, the sha—it all ca flooding back, overwhelming .
"Please don’t escape anymore," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Save that girl, Will!" He finally looked up, his gaze steady and imploring, the desperation in his eyes cutting through my defenses. I could see it all there—my past, my pain, my fear—all laid bare in his gaze.
He managed a small, sad smile. "I don’t want any more regrets. And I know you don’t either... because you are ." His voice softened, but his resolve remained. "Please... conquer your trauma."
As his words settled over , I felt sothing shift within, an ember of courage rekindling deep inside. For the first ti, I felt the need to confront my past, to stand up against the shadows that had haunted for so long.
***
BULLIED GIRL’S POV
The sound of mocking laughter surrounded , loud and sharp, like knives scraping against stone. My heart pounded as I stood trembling, looking up at the boy who had tornted for so long.
"Now, hit her, Werk!" Alad’s voice cut through the noise, his smirk cold and twisted. His eyes sparkled with sadistic pleasure, taking delight in my helplessness.
Werk took a step forward, his face a grim mask as he raised his weapon. He didn’t et my eyes; he didn’t have to. He’d done this before, again and again, and it never mattered to him who I was or how I felt.
Panic surged within , cold and paralyzing. My chest tightened as I watched him lift his sword, his stance shifting as he prepared to activate his skill. My vision blurred with tears, but I couldn’t look away.
"Please... please, I’ll do anything! I’ll pay you back threefold, next ti, I swear!" My voice cracked, trembling as I groveled at their feet. I was shaking so badly I could barely keep my head up, but I forced the words out, my fear too strong to ignore. "Just... please, don’t hit with that."
The tears kept coming, blurring my vision, but I didn’t wipe them away. I didn’t dare to. I knew, sohow, that showing weakness was exactly what they wanted. But I was powerless to stop myself. My whole body was shaking, my voice reduced to desperate pleading. "I beg you, Alad... please."
Alad’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusent. He leaned in, folding his arms across his chest. "That won’t do, Crestia." His tone was calm, almost casual, but every word dripped with malice. "You have to feel remorse, don’t you? It wouldn’t be fair to others if you got off easy, would it?"
Fair. The word tasted bitter, like poison. Fair was the last thing Alad cared about. But I was too afraid, too weak to fight back. Alad was more than just a bully; he was a monster I couldn’t escape. No matter how hard I tried to tell myself it would be okay, that soone would co to help, the truth gnawed at like a dark, insidious whisper in my mind.
I hated him. I hated every ounce of my being that couldn’t stand up to him, every ounce that cowered and trembled at his feet. But the hatred didn’t matter; it never did. Because here, in this mont, I was powerless.
Alad smirked, seemingly pleased with my groveling. "Werk!" he shouted, his voice filled with impatience. "Do it now."
Werk shifted his grip, his eyes focused as he raised his sword. "Horizontal Slash!" he shouted, activating his skill with a chanical precision that made my blood run cold.
The gleam of his blade caught the light, slicing through the air with terrifying speed. The world seed to slow, each second stretching as I watched the weapon arc toward . The sound of my own heartbeat was deafening in my ears, drowning out everything but the cold, paralyzing fear that gripped my entire being.
Ti seed to stop. I could feel my body locking up, frozen in place as the sword approached. I wanted to run, to scream, to do anything to make this nightmare end. But all I could do was stand there, trapped by my fear, tears streaming down my face as I waited for the blow.
I’m scared. My heart races, pounding so loud that I can hardly hear anything else. I know what’s coming—the pain, the humiliation, and the sense of helplessness that follows. I don’t want to get hurt, but I know there’s nothing I can do. I close my eyes, bracing myself, waiting for the inevitable blow. My body tenses, my fingers digging into my palms as I make one last, desperate plea.
"Please, Alad!" I shout, the words echoing in this silent place. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. This is my last chance, my last cry before the pain hits. Even though I know it’s pointless, I can’t help but hope.
I wait. The seconds crawl by, each one feeling like a lifeti. Ten seconds pass, and still, nothing. I don’t feel the sharp sting of the strike I was expecting. Instead, I hear sothing that makes freeze—a voice. Not Alad’s mocking laugh or Werk’s jeers, but Alad’s voice, sharp and annoyed.
"Who the hell are you?" he growls, his voice filled with irritation, his tone just as venomous as ever.
My eyes fly open, my heart skipping a beat as I process the sight in front of . Standing between and Werk’s raised fist is a boy with a familiar face, his posture tense, one hand holding a worn wooden training sword that he’s used to block Werk’s attack. He’s shaking, his shoulders trembling slightly as he stands in the line of fire, and I can see the strain in his grip on the sword.
The boy’s voice is shaky as he speaks, barely above a whisper, but there’s a resolute strength in it that keeps him standing. "I-I’m just a normal boy who... who can’t ignore soone in need."
My breath catches as I realize who it is. Will? Of all people, it’s Will standing there. The boy I’ve treated like dirt, the boy I’ve ignored and looked down on, is the one who’s stepped in to save .
Alad’s gaze narrows, his face twisting into an expression of disbelief and fury. He lets out a mocking snort, his lips curling into a sneer. "Huh?!" he barks, the sound sharp and filled with anger. "So, you’ve got the guts to interrupt , huh?" His voice is laced with contempt, each word dripping with annoyance.
I finally find my voice, my words slipping out before I can stop them. "Why are you here, Will?" I ask, my voice coming out weak and hoarse. I can’t believe it. This can’t be real. I must be hallucinating, or maybe this is so cruel trick Alad’s playing on . But Will’s face is real, his eyes wide with recognition as he looks back at , surprise flickering across his face.
"Crestia?" he whispers, as if he’s just as shocked as I am. His eyes search mine, confusion and hesitation swimming in their depths. It’s as if he can’t quite believe that it’s , the girl who’s always ignored him, the one who’s treated him like he doesn’t matter. I can see the questions in his gaze, the silent words he wants to say but can’t find.
For a mont, there’s a silence between us, thick and tense, like the eye of a storm. Then Alad’s voice cuts through it like a knife, breaking the spell.
"Oh, so you know each other! Is that why you stepped in? Huh, Mister Hero?" Alad sneers, his tone dripping with mockery. He watches Will with a predatory glint in his eyes, like a cat that’s just found a new mouse to toy with. Slowly, he reaches to his side, his hand wrapping around the hilt of a sheathed iron sword he carries everywhere. It’s polished and deadly, a weapon he keeps close for monts like this—monts where he can remind everyone of his power.
My stomach drops as I realize what he’s about to do. Alad isn’t just angry—he’s going to use that sword on Will. Will, who only has a flimsy wooden sword to defend himself, who’s barely even trained to fight. A wave of panic rises in , my mind screaming at to do sothing, anything, to stop this. But fear keeps rooted to the ground, paralyzing , holding captive. I can’t move, can’t speak.
I look at Will again, and I see it in his face—the fear. His knees are shaking, his eyes wide with terror as he stares at Alad’s sword. He knows he’s outmatched; he knows he’s no match for soone like Alad. And yet, he hasn’t moved. He’s standing there, putting himself between and Alad, despite the fear that’s written all over his face. I feel a strange, twisting sensation in my chest, a mix of confusion and guilt.
Why did you save , Will? Why would you put yourself in harm’s way for soone like ? You’re terrified; I can see it. So why are you standing there, facing down Alad when you don’t have a chance?
I barely realize I’m speaking, my voice coming out as a faint whisper. "I’m sorry," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. I don’t know if he hears , if he understands the weight behind those two small words. But he glances at , and I see his expression soften for a brief mont. He offers a small, awkward smile, one that’s filled with a strange mixture of fear and reassurance.
"Don’t worry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling with nerves. "Leave it to ."
His words are simple, but there’s sothing in them that sends a chill down my spine. He’s trying to be brave, trying to play the hero even though he’s just as scared as I am. He’s holding on to that courage, however fragile, and it’s enough to make feel a spark of hope—one I don’t deserve.
Alad lets out a low, cruel laugh, his eyes narrowing as he sizes Will up. "Oh, you have the guts to fight ?" he sneers, amusent flickering in his gaze. "You’re an interesting fellow, aren’t you?"
He casts a glance at Werk, who has been standing off to the side, watching with a smirk. "Werk, don’t interfere," Alad orders, his voice cold and commanding. "I’ll show this little ’hero’ who he’s really dealing with." Werk grins, stepping back as Alad turns his full attention to Will, his stance shifting as he lifts the iron sword, its polished edge gleaming in the sunlight.
Will stands his ground, gripping his wooden sword tightly, though his hands are trembling. His posture is stiff, unsteady, nothing like the poised confidence Alad carries. Will knows he’s outmatched, but he’s refusing to back down, even though he’s terrified.
I feel a lump form in my throat as I watch him, guilt and sha crashing over . How can I just stand here, doing nothing, while he risks everything for ? He’s standing up to Alad, putting himself in harm’s way, and I can’t even muster the courage to say anything. All I can do is watch, feeling powerless, knowing that this is all because of .
I want to shout at Will to run, to leave here and save himself. But the words won’t co. The fear has locked them inside , chaining to this spot, and all I can do is stand here, helpless, as Alad prepares to strike.
Alad’s grip tightens on his sword as he takes a step forward, a cruel smile on his lips. "Let’s see what kind of ’hero’ you really are," he sneers, his voice filled with malice.
I bite my lip, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. This is my fault. Will is standing there, about to face Alad’s wrath, because of . And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
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