The Supernova Effect

Chapter 32

Nova

After work I planned on surprising Daisuke with the artwork I've been working on and take him to see it being featured at the museum. I've spent three months planning it and the trial was a set back in my process but today I finally finished everything.

I pushed open the door to Daisuke's apartment, the knob cold in my hand despite the late summer heat still hanging in the air. The place smelled off—like stale smoke, metal, and something sweeter, rotting at the edges. I scanned the dim room. Curtains were half-drawn, casting sickly strips of golden light across the floor.

"Daisuke?" I called softly, already knowing something wasn't right.

Silence answered.

I stepped in, closing the door gently behind me. The living room was in chaos. Cushions torn off the couch, an ashtray overturned on the balcony, blunts mashed flat beneath bare feet. I walk upstairs to the bathroom to find A cracked mirror hanging crooked on the wall, fractured shards reflecting pieces of my silhouette.

Then I saw him.

Collapsed on the bathroom floor, curled in on himself like a child. His knees drawn tight to his chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other hand limp at his side—coated in red.

Blood.

I rushed forward, falling to my knees beside him and he flinched like I was fire.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," I whispered, even though I wasn't sure he heard a word I said.

His breathing was erratic. Sweat clung to his collarbone. His pupils were blown wide like the darkness inside him had swallowed the light. His lips moved. No sound came at first, and then—barely audible—

"Amir."

The name made me freeze.

Not in anger. Not in judgment. Just... confusion.

"Daisuke, hey, look at me," I yell, grabbing his face. "What the fuck happened?"

His pupils twitched, too wide. The whites of his eyes were tinged yellow. His hands shook violently, and he smelled like weed, vomit, and iron.

"It wasn't suicide," he murmured.

"What?"

His fingers were clenched in my sleeve like he was trying to anchor himself. "I didn't mean to—he was going to hurt you again, Nova. He would've—he didn't even know what he was. What I am."

"Who? Daisuke, who are you talking about?"

His eyes rolled back for a moment and then snapped to mines again, wild, haunted. "I loved you so much I had to kill him."

My stomach turned. "No—no, stop, you're not making sense."

"Amir," he whispered.

The name hit me like cold water. "Daisuke... what did you do?"

"I had to make it stop. You don't get it. You were the only person I ever wanted to save, and I did. I fucking did." He raises his voice.

"You're bleeding," I whispered.

He looked down, surprised by the red dripping from his hand. I hadn't even seen the glass at first—one of the mirror shards were embedded near in his hand. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to scream.

"Shit—stay here, I'm getting the first aid kit," I say, standing.

But he grabbed my wrist. "No. Don't leave me. Please. I can't be alone."

I sank back beside him, heart thudding as I pulled his head into my lap. I remembered how I felt the night Amir kidnapped me. The helplessness. The cold. The silence.