The bus felt unbearably small as the doors continued to close, inch by inch. Kenzo’s chest ached where the two marks pulsed against each other, each beat tearing at him like he was being pulled apart from the inside.

“I can’t choose,” he whispered, tears blurring his vision. “I don’t even know which one is me anymore.”

The hooded woman’s voice softened. “That’s how it traps you. It makes you doubt yourself until you give up.”

Outside, the thing wearing Tunde’s face watched with quiet sadness. “You were always kind, Kenzo,” it said gently. “You always carried other people’s pain. Let me carry it now.”

The words hit harder than any threat. Memories flooded back — laughter, late-night talks, trust given freely. His hands shook as guilt wrapped around his heart.

Beside him, the invisible presence pressed closer, trembling. Kenzo suddenly understood — it wasn’t protecting him out of duty.

It was protecting him because it was afraid of losing him.

The pale creature sobbed from the floor, clawing at itself. “If you choose wrong, you disappear,” it cried. “Not die. Disappear.”

The driver shouted, voice breaking, “Kenzo! Whatever you choose — choose it as yourself!”

The doors slammed shut.

The bus roared forward.

And inside Kenzo’s chest, one mark flared brighter than the other — not because it was stronger…

but because he believed in it.

The bus felt unbearably small as the doors continued to close, inch by inch. Kenzo’s chest ached where the two marks pulsed against each other, each beat tearing at him like he was being pulled apart from the inside.

“I can’t choose,” he whispered, tears blurring his vision. “I don’t even know which one is me anymore.”

The hooded woman’s voice softened. “That’s how it traps you. It makes you doubt yourself until you give up.”

Outside, the thing wearing Tunde’s face watched with quiet sadness. “You were always kind, Kenzo,” it said gently. “You always carried other people’s pain. Let me carry it now.”

The words hit harder than any threat. Memories flooded back — laughter, late-night talks, trust given freely. His hands shook as guilt wrapped around his heart.

Beside him, the invisible presence pressed closer, trembling. Kenzo suddenly understood — it wasn’t protecting him out of duty.

It was protecting him because it was afraid of losing him.

The pale creature sobbed from the floor, clawing at itself. “If you choose wrong, you disappear,” it cried. “Not die. Disappear.”

The driver shouted, voice breaking, “Kenzo! Whatever you choose — choose it as yourself!”

The doors slammed shut.

The bus roared forward.

And inside Kenzo’s chest, one mark flared brighter than the other — not because it was stronger…

but because he believed in it.