The school buzzed with muted whispers. Rows of lockers lined the hallways, their metallic surfaces gleaming under fluorescent lights. Yet, they felt dimmer now, like the world itself was dimming day by day. This wasnt because of the usual pressures of teenage life—exams, social drama, or broken friendships. It was something darker.

The shadows were watching.

In this world, guilt wasnt something people could hide. It manifested as dark, shadowy figures that loomed behind everyone. They clung like a second skin, peering over shoulders, some whispering accusations, others standing silently as reminders of sins committed or regrets unspoken. No one could escape them.

Except for her.

Saya walked through the hallways like a candle in the void bright, free, unshackled. There was no shadow trailing behind her, no judging silhouette lingering over her shoulder. Her classmates stared as she passed. Some envied her; others feared her.

“Doesnt she feel guilty about anything?” -one girl whispered

“How could she not? Everyone feels guilt!” -another replied

Saya heard them, of course. She always heard them. She wasnt deaf to their words, but she didnt react. She simply kept walking, her face serene, almost unsettlingly calm.

That night, Saya sat by her bedroom window. The city below was a patchwork of orange streetlights and shadowy alleys, teeming with people and their secrets. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. A question lingered in her mind.

Why didnt she have a shadow?

Her parents never talked about it. Teachers avoided eye contact when the topic arose. Shed learned not to ask. But lately, the absence of her shadow felt heavier than the presence of others.

Her classmates were vanishing now. It started two weeks ago. A girl named Mai didnt show up for school one morning. Then a boy, Hiroshi, disappeared. The whispers grew louder.

“They were last seen talking to Saya.” -someone had said

She wasnt sure if it was true. Perhaps she had spoken to them, but it wasnt like shed done anything wrong. And yet, as the nights stretched on, Saya began to feel something new, something she couldnt name. A sensation, crawling along her skin. It wasnt guilt... was it?

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It happened the next day during art class. Saya sat by the window, absentmindedly sketching lines on her paper. Around her, the room buzzed with hushed chatter. Then, someone screamed.

“Look!” -one of the girls shrieked, pointing toward the far corner of the room

Everyone turned to see. Saya followed their gazes, her stomach knotting. There, at the back of the classroom, a shadow hovered. But it wasnt attached to anyone. It writhed and twisted unnaturally, its edges fraying like static.

“Its Hiroshis shadow!” -someone cried

The room erupted into chaos, but Saya couldnt move. Her eyes were locked on the shadow. As it slithered closer, a strange realization dawned on her. She recognized it—not as Hiroshis, but as something else entirely.

It belonged to her.

___

That evening, Saya locked herself in her room. The shadow was gone now, or perhaps it had sunk back into the depths where it came from. Her heart pounded as she paced.

She couldnt ignore it anymore. The truth was clawing its way to the surface.

She thought back to the others. Mai. Hiroshi. The countless classmates who had vanished, leaving only their shadows behind. Saya had always been there, hadnt she? Always watching. Always... consuming.

Her shadow wasnt gone. It had simply grown too large, too monstrous to be seen. It had wrapped itself around her, invisible but omnipresent, feeding on the guilt of others. And she had let it.

A sharp knock at the door broke her thoughts. Her mothers voice called from the other side, “Saya? Are you okay?”

Saya didnt answer. She stood frozen, staring at her reflection in the mirror. For the first time, she didnt look shadowless. Behind her, faint and flickering, was the outline of something vast and unspeakable.

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. She remembered the first time shed felt guilt. It was so long ago shed buried the memory. But now it surfaced like a corpse rising from the depths. She had pushed someone—her childhood friend—off a swing when they argued. She cried, and Saya laughed. She told herself it wasnt her fault.

But it was.

And that tiny fragment of guilt had been the seed.

Sayas shadow had grown in silence, feeding on the guilt she refused to acknowledge, on the guilt of others she drained like sustenance. It was never about being free of guilt. She was drowning in it.

She was the one stealing their shadows. She was the one consuming them.

___

The next day, Saya didnt go to school. She couldnt bear to face the stares, the whispers, the inevitable accusations. But it didnt matter. The shadow was with her now, a constant companion.

It whispered to her, louder than the voices of her classmates ever had.

“You cant run from guilt. You can only carry it.”

Saya stared at the ceiling, her chest heavy. Maybe the others were right to fear her. Maybe she was a monster. But if guilt was inevitable, then perhaps... perhaps there was still a way to live with it.

For the first time in years, Saya whispered a quiet apology into the void.

And the shadow behind her stilled.

___

Guilt isnt something we can outrun. It grows in the darkness, feeding on denial and avoidance. Acknowledging our mistakes, no matter how small, is the only way to keep the shadows at bay. To live honestly is to carry the weight of our guilt, not to hide from it.