Weeks blurred into stolen moments that felt stolen from fate.
Cherry blossoms fell like slow tears in Ueno Park. Kai slipped the key necklace around her neck—cold metal against fevered skin. "This unlocks what I've hidden from everyone," he whispered, forehead against hers. "Even from myself."
Their first kiss happened under rain-soaked eaves after a late rehearsal. It tasted of salt and desperation. Sora clung to him as if letting go would unravel her completely. His hands shook as they framed her face—like he feared she might disappear.
"I think I'm falling in love with you," she breathed against his lips. "And it terrifies me."
Kai's eyes glistened. "Then we're both doomed. Because I've already drowned in you."
But love didn't shield them.
Anonymous notes appeared: Play that melody again and she'll die again.
Mia, Sora's best friend, grew distant. "He's dangerous, Sora. His family... they destroy people."
Sora refused to believe it. Until the festival performance.
She and Kai played their duet. The auditorium lights dimmed. Midway through, Sora saw her—a woman in the shadows, eyes wide with grief, looking exactly like an older version of Sora. The resemblance stole her breath.
Afterward, a Polaroid slipped into her bag: a little girl at a piano, dated 20 years ago. The girl was Sora. But the date was impossible.
That night the music box screamed the melody. The whisper became a scream:
She's you. She's me. She's us. And he's the reason we're broken.
Sora collapsed, clutching the necklace so hard it drew blood. "Kai... what have you done?"