The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse (Chapter 8)

Chapter 8: A Glimpse into the Past

The days passed with a newfound calm.
The lighthouse, with its steady hum and rhythmic beam cutting through the night, felt more like home than ever. Aki moved through his daily routine with a clearer mind, the earlier tension slowly giving way to a feeling of acceptance. Whatever the apparition was, he didn't feel the same urgent need to chase it down. He trusted that when it was ready to reveal more of its mysteries again, it would.

One evening, as the light outside began to fade, Aki found himself feeling unusually content. The soft whirring of the generator, the glow of the lanterns—it all felt peaceful. The air inside the lighthouse was warm and comfortable, and the island seemed to hum with its own gentle energy.

Aki prepared for bed, settling under the blankets, Momo tucked securely under his arm, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came to him easily that night, however, the dream that followed was very vivid, almost too real, and rather unsettling.

Aki found himself standing on the beach near the jetty, the gentle waves lapping at the shore. The wind brushed against his ears, cool and familiar, though the sky overhead felt slightly off—too close, as if it were pressing down, although not in a threatening way.

Then, just at the edge of his vision, he saw it.
A faint glow.

Aki's pulse quickened. Slowly, he turned toward the light.
There it was—the ghostly humanoid apparition. Hovering just above the beach, its Neko ears again unmistakable, glowing faintly in the soft light.
This time, the figure was even clearer, its tail swaying gently, its form outlined more distinctly against the darkness.

Aki stood still, he could feel his heart pulsing in his chest, although more from anticipation than fear this time—The slightly nervous edge was there, but it was rooted more in curiosity.

The apparition didn't look exactly like him—its features were still hazy—but something about it stirred a deep sense of familiarity within him.

The figure floated closer, moving slowly, deliberately. Aki's pulse pounded in his ears as the apparition came to a stop just a few feet away, its glowing eyes, now more visible, locking onto his.
For a moment, neither of them moved.

The apparition raised its hand, pointing toward the horizon, and before Aki could react, the world shifted around him.

He was no longer on the beach.

Suddenly, he was back in the city, the noise of distant traffic replaced by an eerie silence. The cold, shadowy alleyway he recognized all too well stretched out before him.
His heart sank. This was a place he had long tried to forget.

At the far end of the alley stood his younger self, barely more than a boy, cornered by two figures—human figures, larger and more menacing in the dim light.
One of them grabbed young Aki by the collar, slamming him roughly against the wall. The other sneered, his words sharp and cruel.
"Stupid Nekos, you really think anyone's gonna care if something happens to you? No one cares about worthless mutts like you."

The words hit Aki like a punch, the memory rushing back with brutal force.
He remembered every detail—how he had felt the rough stone wall at his back, how his legs had gone weak with fear, how his heart had pounded in his chest, and how he had felt alone. So utterly alone.

The first shove was followed by a punch, square in the stomach, and young Aki doubled over onto the ground, gasping for air, his ears flat against his head in submission.
The pain surged through him, sharp and unforgiving, while the attackers laughed. His tail curled defensively around his leg, but it did nothing to protect him.

Worst of all, people walked by at the mouth of the alley, glancing in for a moment before continuing on, indifferent to the violence happening just feet away. No one helped. No one even slowed down.