The halls of Sacred Heart Academy were filled with light and laughter, but to Yuki, they were a labyrinth of whispers and shadows. He had been the star, the one with the radiant smile, the prodigy who could turn words into vivid worlds. But admiration curdled into envy, and envy into malice. They envied his light, and in their hatred, they sought to extinguish it.

He remembered the ambush in vivid detail, each frame etched into his memory like scars on his skin. The clatter of chains, the hiss of steel against stone, and their laughter—the kind of laughter that only came from those drunk on the illusion of power.

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They hadn’t expected him to fight back. They hadn’t expected the blade. His butterfly knife sang through the air, a cold, efficient instrument of survival. When it was over, the silence that followed was deafening.

The court called it “overkill.” The truth was more complicated. In those moments of frenzied defense, something deep within him had snapped. The boundaries between victim and monster blurred.