Before Ye Weibai died, a thought flashed through his skull like a spark in dry straw.

—Is this really [time flowing backward], like a river running uphill?

—[Time]—no, only she...

...

"Hey, uh, hey."

A familiar girl’s voice, light as a lark, tugged Ye Weibai awake.

He opened his eyes and saw a tiny, pink fist waving in front of his face like a cherry petal in wind.

Its owner—Philia, red hair and red eyes—bobbed into view like a small flame.

Morning.

Deep forest.

Dawn spilled gold; a breeze combed the leaves; shadows swayed like slow water.

Ye Weibai inhaled that rain-soaked earthy scent, and he saw the familiar little girl.

As his eyes opened, the girl bloomed into a bright smile, like sunrise breaking mist.

He noticed her draw back the fist, and he sighed, the way a tide pulls from shore.

"As expected—this is the last time."

[Day One], when she woke me, her fingers curled; two fingertips sprouted like twin twigs.

[Day Two], it became one, a lone needle against the light.

[Day Three]—today—it became a fist, a small stone in her palm.

[Time] is telling me the value of [X], in her own way, like sand thinning in an hourglass.

Then this is the final chance.

Begin.

"Hey! Uh—" She puffed her cheeks like a tiny pufferfish when he stayed silent.

"Philia."

"Eh—eh?" She froze, as if a bird heard its name on the wind.

How does he know my name?

Then he did something that made her mind go blank.

"Hug me." Ye Weibai smiled, opened his arms, and looped them around her neck like a scarf.

He was seated, so with the lightest pull, she toppled into his lap like a leaf falling into a stream.

He held Philia tight and gentle, his chin resting on her thin shoulder like a perch on a branch.

"Eh—eh, eh, eh?" Her eyes went wide like moons. Reflex begged her to push away.

Yet something warm and familiar drifted in—this had happened before, in a dawn this soft, in mornings not one or two, but strung like countless beads.

Her tense body unknotted, like a bow undone by a breeze.

She wriggled like a cat seeking a hand, found a snug hollow, and settled inside the boy’s arms.

In mottled morning light, their hair tangled like vines; their breaths mingled like two threads of mist.

"The next part will be cruel," he said, with a sigh that left him like frost from a blade.

"But I won’t apologize. Because—people can only drag themselves from the mire."

She didn’t catch his words. She only sensed the body in her arms turn hard and cold, like iron in shade, and she lifted her head.

She saw a face with red pupils and purple skin, like a bruise under glass.

A [Monstrosity].

"[Monstrosities]—only after I became one—did I realize—"

With the girl hanging on him, Ye Weibai swayed upright, his [Monstrosity] form unfolding like a dark cloak.

She dangled against his chest, blinking like a bird, no panic, no scream.

Because a child’s [self-deception] had [filtered] all this away, like fog wiped by the sun.

She only tilted her head. "Y-you’re so, so tall!"

Ye Weibai smiled. On this face, even a smile looked like a cracked mask.

"I realized—[Monstrosities] are fragile creatures. Driven, or chained, by [will to live] and [hunger], their flaws gape like cracks in ice.

Killing them isn’t that hard.

Like now, I should be starving, and I should gulp you down.

But I don’t dare. If I eat you, Philia, this mission fails completely. I’d die.

[Will to live] takes priority over [hunger]—that’s the rule.

So, Philia—rest easy. Even if I see you only as [food], I’ll still help you slip [Misfortune].

Only that way do I live."

"Wh-what are you saying?" She stared at him, lost, like a fawn in tall grass.

A human Philia couldn’t hear Ye Weibai the [Monstrosity].

But it doesn’t matter. Even if you can’t hear—can’t understand—your body and your deep mind will carve in what comes next, like chisel lines in stone.

Begin.

"You—what are you trying to do?!" Her voice wobbled toward a sob, like a raindrop on a leaf’s edge.

"Stab here. Stab this."

Ye Weibai tapped his back. A blood-red orb, half a fist wide, floated just above his skin, like a ruby of flesh.

A [Demon Core].

"Most [Monstrosities], if the heart shatters or the head falls, die slowly without quick aid.

I’m different. I’ve got hyper-regeneration. Only if you smash the [Demon Core] do I die."

He pressed a sharp stone—found who knows where, like a fang from the earth—into her hands.

"Don’t worry. A [Demon Core] is brittle. Most [Monstrosities] hide it deep.

Once exposed, it’s no tougher than glass.

One stone can crush it.

Kill me."

Yes—Ye Weibai was teaching Philia how to kill him.

Philia couldn’t grasp his words. She read only his motions, like gestures across a window.

He wanted her to strike his back with the stone.

But—why?

I—I don’t want to—

"If I hit, it’ll hurt. It must hurt!" Philia waved her hands, eyes wet as dew, and scooted back like a startled rabbit.

"This isn’t fun at all!"

"It won’t hurt." Seeing her face about to break like thin ice, Ye Weibai dragged a thick finger through the dirt, slow as a twig on sand.

It won’t hurt.

Because.

I’ll die in one blow.

Her pupils shrank to needles.

Kill—me?

Beneath a calm sea, black water rose; the tide of old things seeped in and stained memories she thought spotless.

Her breath stuttered like a sparrow’s; her body began to shake.

"No—no—I don’t want to—" Philia shook her head, pleading in her face like rain in her eyes.

"L-let’s play a different game!"

Ye Weibai held her gaze and shook his head, the way a tree refuses the wind.

His finger moved in the soil.

If you won’t,

then I’ll help.

But you must learn to save yourself.

He seized her hand. She screamed like a kettle on flame.

He forced the stone between her palms.

His roughness scraped skin; blood bloomed like red berries across her hands.

"It hurts—so much—"

If it hurts and you want to cry, then cry, he wrote, cold as frost traced on glass.

"No! I can’t cry!"

Her eyes reddened. Sunlight, turned jade through leaves, made them shine like wet emeralds.

She wanted to cry. She couldn’t. Couldn’t cry—couldn’t be sad—couldn’t—

Somehow her stutter melted like snow. She thrashed to break free like a fish on a line.

It only tore her wounds wider; more blood ran, red threads across her skin.

It hurt, fiercely. She swallowed it like hot stones.

She bit her lip and endured.

"Can’t! Can’t be sad! Can’t cry—can’t cry—if I cry—if I cry—I’ll—ha—I’ll—ha-ha—I’ll—ha ha ha—"

I’ll become a [Monstrosity].

"Ha, haha, hahahahaha!"

The impossible happened.

A heartbeat ago she was ready to wail like rain on blossoms.

Now her mouth rose like a new moon; she opened like a flower.

She laughed.

Clear as silver bells, her laughter ran like water over stones.

Yet a second ago, teardrops jeweled her lashes.

Even Ye Weibai fell silent.

"You’re—amazing, Philia. You really are."

He watched her sudden, flawless smile, a sky rinsed to the purest blue.

The storm just now felt like a mirage on hot road.

"Only—" Ye Weibai said softly, "you’re almost at the limit."

"Let me lay down the last straw. Let me shatter you completely."

...