The club room door had closed, but the air inside still hung heavy with the emotions from Itsuki's performance. Itsuki let out a long sigh, slowly rising from the wheelchair, his whole body seeming as if it had just endured a severe illness.
"Brilliant, Itsuki," Kenji spoke, his voice still cold but with a hint of appreciation. "The emotion was very real."
Haruto, still in his doctor's outfit, nodded: "Yeah, I got chills too. Was that a real tear?"
Itsuki nodded slightly, wiping the corner of his eye: "Yes. At that moment, I thought about the character, his loneliness and his betrayed love, and the tears just flowed."
Daiki, having removed his vampire cloak, patted Itsuki's shoulder: "Amazing. But now it's my and Haruto's turn. Let's show those girls outside that our world isn't just about romantic tragedy."
Kenji looked towards the window, where the curtain still trembled slightly, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smile: "It seems our audience hasn't given up. Well then... let's show them something truly haunting, Haruto."
Behind his glasses, a glint of strange excitement flashed in Haruto's eyes. "Just you wait."
Outside, the girls hadn't yet recovered. Many were still sniffling, wiping their tears.
"Oh my god... that's so sad," one girl sobbed. "How could it be so tragic?"
Yumi sighed, her heart filled with an indescribable emotion. She looked towards the window, where the lights in the room changed again. "It seems... there's more."
Just as predicted, the lights in the room went completely dark, leaving only a cold, stark white beam, like an operating theater light, shining down on one corner. The music changed too, from melodious to harsh, rising and falling, creating a feeling of unease and tension.
Curiosity overcame their sorrow. The girls crowded around to peer inside again.
Inside the room, under the cold light, Haruto stood. The white lab coat he wore was now stained with a few red streaks. Around him were realistic wax figures, but they weren't intact. They were disjointed body parts: a slender hand with smooth, pale skin, a pair of straight legs, a face with large eyes, a high nose bridge... All were arranged carefully and neatly on a long table, beside which were shiny medical tools.
Haruto said nothing. He picked up a suture needle and surgical thread. His eyes scanned those disjointed parts, filled with passion and a mad craving. He began his "work."
His movements were swift and skilled, like a real doctor suturing a wound. But what he was doing was connecting pieces of flesh that didn't belong together. His voice rose, soft, as if talking to himself, but loud enough for those outside to hear. It was no longer Haruto's voice, but the voice of a madman, a tormented soul.
"Hana, where are you...? I want to see you again..." he muttered. "They burned you. Didn't leave me anything. But I remember... I remember every detail of you."
He stared intently at the wax hand being sewn onto an arm. "Your eyes... large, pitch-black, always looking at me with understanding. Only you... only you understood my pain."
The light shone on Haruto's face. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his eyes were blazing. He recounted his story, interspersed with the gruesome act of suturing.
On the large screen behind Haruto, the scene transitioned from the ghastly sight in the operating room to a completely contrasting image—a distant past, peaceful yet full of tragedy.
It was an old orphanage, with faded walls and a playground overgrown with weeds. The pale yellow autumn sunlight filtered through the leaves, shining down on two children sitting close together on an old swing.
The boy—a young Haruto—was skinny, with large, intelligent eyes that held a sadness beyond his years. The girl beside him—Hana—had long black hair and eyes shaped like longan seeds, always looking at him with admiration and trust.
"Haruto, what will you do when you grow up?" Hana asked, her voice clear.
"I'll become a doctor," Haruto replied, his gaze distant. "To heal all the sick people, so no one has to suffer anymore."
Hana laughed, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. "I'll always be by your side. No matter what you do, I'll support you."
The two children shared their simple dreams together, endured the bullying from other children in the orphanage together, and found solace in each other's warm handholds. Hana was the only light in Haruto's dark world, and vice versa.
Then, one fateful day, a wealthy couple appeared. They looked Haruto over with appraising eyes, as if inspecting merchandise.
"This one seems smart, could be trained into a talent," the man said, his tone cold.
Haruto was informed he would be adopted. While everyone congratulated him for escaping the orphanage life, Hana burst into tears.
"Please, let me go with him!" The little girl grabbed Haruto's hand, tears streaming down her face. "We won't be any trouble!"
But her wish didn't come true. In their moment of parting, Haruto squeezed Hana's hand tightly, whispering: "I promise I'll find you. Definitely."
Hana sobbed, accepting a small white pebble that Haruto gave her. "Keep it... so you don't forget me. I'll keep one just like it. If we meet again, this will be how we recognize each other."
Haruto's life in his new family was a hell wrapped in silk. The large mansion was cold and unwelcoming. His adoptive parents—a famous surgeon and a high-society woman—had immense expectations for him. Every time his grades weren't perfect, every time he showed weakness, beatings or humiliating insults would rain down.
"Useless! Not even a fraction of what I am!"
"You must become the best doctor, understand? That's why we adopted you!"
"Don't cry! Men can't be weak!"
Gradually, Haruto's young heart grew calloused. He learned to suppress all emotions, to smile in front of others, but inside was immense pain and loneliness. He hid the white pebble under his bed, as if hiding the only soft, vulnerable part of himself.
Meanwhile, Hana was also taken in by another family—not as a daughter, but as a maid. Her life was no easier, filled with hard labor and disdain. But in her heart, the flame of hope to see Haruto again still smoldered.
Years later, at a hospital charity event where Haruto was interning, fate brought them together again. Haruto, in an elegant suit, and Hana, in a simple waitress uniform.
Their eyes met. Time seemed to stop.
"Haruto... is that you?" Hana asked tremulously.
Haruto almost didn't recognize the beautiful girl before him as the little girl from his past. But when he saw the white pebble strung into a necklace around her neck, his heart shattered.
"Hana!"
They embraced each other tightly, ignoring all the surrounding stares. In that moment, it was as if they had returned to their childhood, two lonely souls finally finding each other again.
They talked and confided in each other, sharing about their current lives, but both hid the pain they were enduring. Haruto didn't mention the beatings and the immense pressure. Hana didn't speak of the exhausting work hours and the loneliness in her small basement room.
For them at that time, just being together was happiness enough. They dated in secret, rediscovering the long-lost warmth. In each other's eyes, they were still the innocent children from long ago, unaware that the emotional wounds they both carried were quietly shaping another, more bloody tragedy.
On the projection screen, the image of the two embracing in happiness gradually faded, giving way to the scene of Haruto in the operating room, scalpel in hand, standing before the body stitched together from incomplete pieces.