✧˚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒍

14

that night, ayato finally reached the school, every inch of his body screaming with exhaustion. his legs felt like they could give out at any second, burning from the relentless pressure he had put on them throughout the day. his chest rose and fell rapidly as he gasped for air, each breath shallow and insufficient, failing to calm the frantic pace of his heart. sweat poured down his face, his hair clinging in damp strands to his forehead and the back of his neck. he felt like he had been running forever as he could never catch his breath. but it wasn't over yet.

he had one last task before he could call it a night. squinting in the dim light, ayato gazed at the locked gates of his high school. of course, they were secured—no one was supposed to be here after dark. his palms were slick with sweat, but he wiped them hastily on his pants before gripping the cold metal bars of the gate. with a grunt, ayato hoisted himself up, straining his already aching muscles. his fingers clenched around the bars as he dragged himself higher, his arms trembling from the effort. the rough iron bit into his palms, but he ignored the pain, focusing on reaching the top.

once he was there, he hesitated for a split second before pushing himself over and jumping down to the other side. the moment his feet hit the ground, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the earth in a heap, his body giving out from under him.

"shit..." he cursed softly under his breath, quickly scrambling to his feet and brushing himself off. ayato then cast a cautious glance around, scanning the darkened grounds for any sign of guards or surveillance.

thankfully, the area seemed deserted.

his throat tightened as he gulped down another shaky breath, his adam's apple bobbing visibly. he knew he was trespassing, breaking school rules, and committing a crime, but it couldn't be helped. there were bigger things at stake now. without wasting another second, ayato crept through the shadows to the back of the school. his goal loomed ahead of him, the incinerator—a squat, brick-patterned furnace with a rusted chimney that expelled smoke when in use.

ayato stopped in front of the incinerator, staring at it for a long moment before letting out a shaky sigh. he had to get rid of everything—the bloodstained clothes, the evidence. there could be no trace left of what he had done tonight. with trembling hands, ayato began peeling off his sticky, blood-soaked shirt, the fabric clinging to his sweaty skin. he tossed the shirt into the incinerator without hesitation, watching as it landed with a soft thud inside. the cool night air prickled against his bare skin, goosebumps rising on his arms and chest as the cold bit into him.

"so cold..." ayato muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the night. he fumbled with his pants, his fingers numb and uncooperative as he worked to unbutton them. he wriggled out of the fabric, discarding the pants into the incinerator just like the shirt. now standing in his boxers, he was fully exposed to the elements, shivering as the cold wrapped around him.

just as he bent down to pull off his shoes, a sharp clank sounded on his feet, loud and metallic in the silence. ayato's head jerked down, his heart leaping into his throat. his eyes widened as he spotted the source of the noise—his phone and...the knife. the same knife he had used not too long ago to snuff out two lives.

the blade glistened faintly in the dim light, smeared with blood, its once-sharp edge dulled slightly by the violence of the evening.

ayato blinked at it, frozen in place for a moment as the weight of what he had done pressed down on him like a physical force. that knife, now at his feet, was a symbol of the irreversible path he had chosen. his breath hitched, and after a few seconds of hesitation, ayato bent down and gingerly picked it up, holding the weapon in his hand once more. he stared at it, his reflection distorted in the blood-streaked steel.

for a moment, his grip tightened around the hilt, his mind replaying the events of the night—the screams, the blood, the thrill. his lips curled into a small, satisfied yet tired smile. but the knife couldn't stay with him.

with another word, he tossed it into the incinerator, watching it disappear into the darkness along with his clothes. he fished the spare outfit by stepping into the shower rooms, grabbing his gym uniform, and then returning to the incinerator where he hurriedly changed, his body shaking as he hurried to finish the task. soon, everything within would all be ash, and no one would ever know.

ayato flipped the switch on the incinerator, and it roared to life, the mechanical hum deafening in the still night. he took a step back as the furnace illuminated the small, confined space, casting flickering shadows along the walls. thick, black smoke billowed out from the top of the chimney, curling upward into the starless sky. the clothes, the knife, all of it was being consumed by the flames, erased from existence just as he intended.

ayato stood there for a moment, watching the smoke rise, feeling the heat radiating from the incinerator, the finality of it settling over him. after a moment, the dark-haired boy bent down and picked up his phone from where he had dropped it earlier. the screen glowed in the dim light, but no notifications blinked back at him. not that he expected any—his phone was nothing more than a tool at this point. there wasn't anyone he talked to regularly, no one to check in on him or send a message. still, as he stood there in the quiet, a sudden pang of longing hit him. y/n...he missed her.

a lot.

leaning back against the nearest wall, ayato opened his browser and quickly typed in y/n's name. it wasn't hard to find her address; with her being an idol, certain parts of her life were public, whether she liked it or not. her house was no exception. as expected, the search results showed images of her home—an extravagant, sprawling mansion tucked away behind high gates and heavy security. ayato clicked through the pictures, studying the layout, and memorizing the location. his mind began to drift, imagining her inside, sleeping peacefully in her bed, completely unaware of everything that had happened tonight.

he wanted to see her.

but...ayato paused, staring at the screen, conflicted. should he really risk it? he knew the security around her home would be tight—after all, she was an idol. there were probably cameras, guards, and maybe even dogs. it wouldn't be easy to get close to her, let alone unnoticed. a part of him, the rational part, whispered that it was too dangerous, that he should go home, and lay low after what he'd just done. there was too much at stake now. he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

but then there was the other part of him, the part that yearned for y/n, the part that didn't care about risks. after everything he had gone through today— the blood, the violence, the fear— didn't he deserve to be a little selfish? he had already taken lives for her, punished those who hurt her. he had done all of that for y/n, and now, more than ever, he just wanted to be near her. even if it was just to make sure she was safe, to see her beautiful face one more time. was that so wrong...?

ayato's thumb hovered over the phone screen, his mind spinning with indecision. his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as he wrestled with himself. he could already feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, the exhaustion creeping in, but his desire for y/n was stronger than his fatigue. he closed his eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to be near her, to know she was okay, that she was getting her beauty rest. his chest tightened with need.

eventually, the selfish part of him won.

sighing, ayato turned off his phone and pocketed it. he had made up his mind. he was going to drop by her house. he told himself it wasn't to disturb her, just to make sure she was okay. just a quick visit. nothing more.

straightening up, ayato began to walk back toward the front of the school, his steps slow but determined. his legs still ached from everything he had pushed them through tonight, but he ignored the pain. he had one last mission before he could rest and nothing— not even the fear of getting caught— was going to stop him now.