15th Scene
The leftover cake sits half-eaten on the kitchen table, two forks abandoned beside it.
Kiyomi went to shower; I came back to the room to change into sleep clothes.
That's when it starts.
A tiny pulse behind my left eye.
I think it's just fatigue.
Then the pulse becomes a spike.
Then the spike becomes a hammer.
The pain is instant and absolute.
It feels like someone poured molten metal straight into my skull and sealed the exits.
White lightning forks behind my eyes.
The room tilts, spins, collapses.
I drop to my knees.
The scream rips out of me before I can stop it.
Kiyoshi
KIYOMI!
It's not a call.
It's a raw, animal howl.
The name tears my throat on the way out.
The second scream is worse.
I claw at my head, nails digging into scalp, trying to rip the pain out with my bare hands.
Kiyoshi
KIYOMI!
MAKE IT STOP—PLEASE—
I hear her bare feet slapping against the hallway floor, the bathroom door banging open, water still running.
The door to my room flies open so hard it bounces off the wall.
Kiyomi is there (hair dripping, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panic).
She sees me on the floor, curled into a ball, rocking, screaming her name like it's the only word I have left.
She doesn't hesitate.
She throws herself down beside me, wraps both arms around my shaking body, and pulls me against her chest as hard as she can.
Kiyomi
I'm here—I'm here—I've got you—
Breathe, Kiyoshi, breathe with me—Her voice is shaking, but it's steady where mine isn't.
I can't stop screaming.
The pain keeps climbing, wave after wave, like my brain is trying to tear itself out of my skull.
She drags me fully into her lap, cradles my head against her shoulder, one hand pressed over my ear, the other stroking my hair in frantic, soothing circles.
Kiyomi
Look at me.
Look at me, damn it.
I force my eyes open through the white-hot blur.
Her face is inches away, wet hair dripping onto my cheek, eyes wide and terrified and fierce.
Kiyomi
You are not allowed to leave me.
Do you hear me?
You are not allowed.
Another wave of pain hits.
I scream into her shoulder, teeth clenched so hard I taste blood.
She rocks us back and forth like we're little kids again and thunder is shaking the house.
Kiyomi (whispering it like a prayer)
I'm here.
I'm here…
I'm here…..
I'm here.
She keeps saying it until the words lose meaning and become pure sound (a lifeline).Her arms are thin but they don't loosen even when my whole body jerks with each fresh spike of agony.
Minutes (or hours) pass.
Slowly, so slowly, the pain begins to recede.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But down from "want to die" to "want to disappear."
My screams turn to broken sobs against her soaked T-shirt.
She never stops rocking.
Never stops whispering.
Kiyomi
That's it.
Come back.
Come back to me.
I cling to her like she's the only solid thing in a collapsing universe.
My fingers dig into her back hard enough to bruise, but she doesn't flinch.
Kiyoshi (raw, barely human)
Don't let go.
Please don't let go.
Kiyomi
Never.
Never never never.
When the sobs finally quiet into exhausted hiccups, she shifts us carefully until we're lying on the floor, her back against the bed, me curled against her chest like I'm the younger one.
The room smells like her shampoo and my blood and fear.
She strokes my hair with trembling fingers.
Kiyomi (so soft I almost miss it)
I love you too, idiot.
So much it hurts me when you hurt.
I didn't say it out loud.
I never had to.
But she heard it anyway (in every scream, in every shake, in the way I reached for her name like it was oxygen).
She keeps holding me until my breathing matches hers.
Until the pain is a dull throb instead of a death sentence.
Until the only sound is our hearts trying to slow down together.
Kiyomi (voice cracked and steady all at once)
Sleep now.
I'm not moving.
I'll be right here when you wake up.
Always.
I close my eyes against her collarbone.
The gun is still in the drawer.
The diary is still under the pillow.
The real Kiyoshi is still a shadow I don't understand.
But right now none of it matters.
Because the person I love most in any world (real, borrowed, or broken) is holding me so tightly that nothing else can get in.
And for the first time since I opened my eyes in this body,
the pain feels shared instead of stolen.
I fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat promising she'll stay.