Eternal Beauty | Chapter 7

Good evening! I have come to read Chapter 7 :3 Let’s see if new-Marin and Kei can have an actual conversation. I’m actually surprised that she ran from him last time!

Hmm with what I know is coming, I wonder if Kei will feel himself responsible for new-Marin’s happiness. He’s having a pretty damning dream atm and will probably watch out for more signs of distress this time around. And he will find them, I’m sure. Ohh I wonder where all this is going!

I really like that he goes to Kukui for comfort.
And oh that is a strong reaction from Kukui when he brings up the topic of potentially talking abt Marin. I like it. I wonder what it means but I like it! I also like how you describe it :3 I wonder what Kukui knows about Marin that Kei doesn’t. What she’s thinking that she doesn’t want to bring her up. She barely talks abt Marin, not at all if not prompted. She’s always thinking abt Sugui, no? Hmm very interesting.

Oh and we get a Kukui POV! I didn’t expect that! Ohhh ohh I think I know what this is about. It’s more explicit in the coming chapters and I feel like I’m experiencing your foreshadowing now!

Ah a small tip. I think in novels it usually looks better if you write out smaller numbers. So “Two years earlier” instead of “2 years earlier”. I just find that it looks more…. Immersive and novel-like xd

Oh man oh man, I can see the flashback sit so clearly. I can imagine exactly how this looked like and what has happened. I’m left with more questions tho. What did the teacher do to get Marin on his lap? Why are there no automated lights in the hallway, so that it is dark enough to hide Kukui? Why did they even leave the door open in the first place?
I have to think of Persona 5 suddenly and now I kinda imagine Marin a bit like Ann. Oh my. That is a heavy thing to read.
I like that Kukui is still so affected. And no wonder that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s carrying so much guilt around.

It kinda feels like new-Marin is affected both protagonists in very different ways, for both the past coming to haunt them. Interesting chapter!

Hello! It's CATS here!~ Well, here to review the next chapter! I realized I reviewed Chapter Six and accidentally forgot about Chapter Five so that's why I went back lol. Anyways, let's dive in!

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

— William Faulkner

The darkness of Kei’s room seemed to thicken as he lay in bed, sleep evading him in the stifling silence. The image of Marin loomed in his mind, unbidden yet persistent, taking shape from the shadows. It wasn’t the Marin he’d seen in Ujui’s library—this was the Marin from his childhood, the girl he’d once felt was as constant as sunlight, even in her quiet way.

He closed his eyes, yet the vision of her grew sharper, pulling him down into a sleep that felt more like falling through darkness than resting. And as he descended, she appeared before him, her face both familiar and wrong, twisted with a grief that seemed to eat away at her.

“Why weren’t you there for me, Kei?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath, but it cut into him like ice. Her face began to change, the pale beauty he remembered now contorting, stretching with each accusation as if something terrible were gnawing away from within.

His throat tightened. “Marin, I—” His words caught, strangled by a force he couldn’t name. Her eyes stared into his sunken eyes, ringed in shadow and exhaustion, and he watched in horror as her skin started to peel, cracking and splitting as insects crawled from her mouth, her cheeks, her fingertips. Beetles, spiders, worms—wriggling through her flesh as it decayed, her expression unwavering as she repeated, voice hollow and raw, “You let me die, Kei. You weren’t there. You didn’t save me.”

He tried to reach for her, but his hands couldn’t move. All he could do was watch as her form crumbled, collapsing into rot, her voice filling his mind with accusations that grew louder and louder until they drowned his thoughts, her face now only a nightmare of twisting shadows and hollow eyes.

Kei shot upright in bed, gasping for air, the room still cloaked in silence. His hands shook as he reached for his glasses on the bedside table, struggling to focus, the darkness seeming to cling to his skin. He couldn’t stay here alone, not with the weight of her words echoing in his mind. The memory of her accusation still burned, a heaviness pressing on his chest that he knew only one person might understand.

Moments later, he found himself at Kukui’s door. He knocked softly, half-expecting her to be asleep, but after a short pause, the door creaked open, and Kukui peered out, blinking in surprise.

“Kei?” Her voice was a whisper, yet thick with curiosity and concern. “What are you doing here? It’s late.” She glanced around, then pulled him inside quickly, locking the door. “You know boys and girls aren’t supposed to sleep in each other’s dorms.”

He managed a small, strained smile. “I know. I just…I couldn’t sleep.” He rubbed his temples, the remnants of the nightmare still clawing at his mind. “Can I…stay here, just for tonight?”

Kukui studied him for a moment, her eyes softening as she took in his shaken appearance. “Of course.” She motioned for him to sit, then busied herself in the corner, putting a kettle on as a measure of comfort. The room was small and cluttered, with stacks of books and small personal items arranged neatly, though it still carried the faintest hint of coldness, as though untouched by daylight.

They settled on the floor, the two of them leaning against her bed frame, enveloped in a quiet that felt both comforting and heavy.

“Do you…think about Sugei often?” Kukui asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she poured the hot tea into two cups, steam spiraling like faint ghosts in the dim light.

“Yeah,” Kei replied, his gaze distant. “And Marin too. Not just…this Marin,” he added, his voice faltering. “Our Marin. Sugei’s sister. It’s strange. I thought I was over it…but it feels like she’s everywhere here. I can’t seem to let her go.”

Kukui was silent, her grip tightening on her cup. She nodded, though her eyes stayed averted, the flicker of the kettle’s flame casting shadows that made her expression hard to read.

The silence stretched, heavy and unyielding, until Kukui, visibly uncomfortable, finally spoke, though her voice was strained. “It’s not just you, Kei. I feel her too…like a shadow.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, as if willing herself to stay calm. “Can we…not talk about her right now?”

The request hung between them, pressing in from all sides. But Kei couldn’t let it go. “I know it hurts, Kukui. But don’t you think…maybe we should? Maybe if we talked about it—”

The crash of Kukui’s teacup slamming onto the floor startled him, her knuckles white from how hard she gripped the cup. She glared at him, her expression sharp and pained, something fragile and desperate in her eyes. “Kei,” she whispered, her voice a barely controlled tremor, “please…just stop.”

Kei fell silent, realizing the wall he’d struck, the lines he’d crossed. Kukui swallowed hard, blinking quickly as she retrieved the broken pieces of the cup, her hands visibly shaking. Finally, she handed him a new cup of tea, her face expressionless as she walked back to her bed, sitting down with an air of resignation.

The room felt colder as they sipped their tea in silence, the warm bitterness spreading through Kei’s chest, though it did little to soothe the ache. He muttered a quiet “goodnight,” switching off the light, and lay down on the floor, listening to the silence settle around them like a thick fog.

He couldn’t see Kukui’s face, but he could sense her lying wide awake, her breaths shallow, something pressing between them.

As the minutes stretched into hours, Kukui lay motionless, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, tracing patterns in the darkness that only she could see. The room seemed to pulse with the silence, a hollow void pressing down on her, and the shadows appeared to writhe at the edge of her vision.

Her body felt heavy, weighed down by a sickening dread that began to claw at her insides. Her skin prickled, cold sweat forming along her forehead, her pulse pounding in her ears. The shadows seemed to press closer, forming shapes in the darkness, and a familiar voice began to whisper in her ear, soft and venomous.

“You could have stopped it. You saw, and you did nothing. You let it happen.”

She tried to close her eyes, but the darkness only made it worse, filled with visions of Marin, her face twisted in pain, her mouth moving soundlessly, accusing her. Kukui felt something cold and clammy grip her wrists, her arms, her throat—hands that weren’t there, fingers digging into her skin, leaving invisible bruises that throbbed with guilt.

“If only you’d spoken up. Maybe I’d still be alive.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the room spun, her heart hammering so loudly she thought it would burst. She clutched the bedsheets, her nails digging into the fabric as she tried to pull herself back, but her mind kept slipping, returning to that night, to the cold hallway, to Marin’s voice echoing from behind the closed door.

2 years earlier

The hallways of the school were quiet and empty as Kukui made her way to the exit, her steps echoing against the linoleum floor. She had stayed late to finish a group project, and the fading sunlight outside cast long shadows across the walls, making the familiar route feel strange and foreboding.

As she walked, a faint murmur drifted down the hall—a man’s voice, low and soft, followed by a girl’s voice, lighter, familiar. She stopped in her tracks, straining to listen. The voices were coming from a classroom just ahead, the door slightly ajar, a sliver of pale light spilling onto the floor. Her pulse quickened when she recognized the voice. Marin Hasegawa.

Curiosity mingled with unease as she crept forward, moving quietly until she reached the door and peered inside. Her stomach twisted at the sight: Marin was seated on the teacher’s lap, his arm wrapped possessively around her shoulder. His fingers traced the edge of her collar, his hand too close to her throat. Marin’s face was pale, her lips pressed tightly together as she pushed his hand away, her expression torn between fear and anger.

“Stop it,” Marin said, her voice a whisper that held a tremor. She shifted on his lap, trying to stand, but his grip tightened, pulling her back down.

In a sudden movement, Marin shoved his hand away again, and his expression hardened. Without a word, he raised his hand and struck her across the face sending her sprawling onto the floor.

The sound of the slap echoed, snapping Kukui out of her shock. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but it was too late. The man’s head jerked up, his gaze locking onto the door.

Kukui froze, her body tense, feeling exposed under his stare as he rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous gleam. She pulled back from the door, pressing herself against the cold wall, her heart pounding as his footsteps grew louder.

She held her breath as he stepped into the doorway, his eyes scanning the hall. The moment stretched, his shadow casting a long, menacing shape across the floor. She could feel the weight of his presence, his gaze sweeping over the darkened hallway, searching. She pressed herself harder against the wall, praying he wouldn’t come closer.

After a few agonizing seconds, he retreated, stepping back into the room. The door closed with a soft, final click, shutting Marin’s fate behind it and leaving Kukui standing alone in the darkened corridor, her heart thudding in her chest.

Back in her bed, the weight of the memory pressed into Kukui’s chest like iron. She could feel Marin’s hands on her again, ghostly fingers clawing at her skin, gripping her wrists and digging in, her voice a whisper in her ear, soft yet unrelenting.

“Why didn’t you stop it, Kukui? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Kukui’s body was locked in place, as if bound by invisible chains, her breaths shallow and quick as tears began to roll down her cheeks, burning hot against her skin. She felt Marin’s presence all around her, filling the room with a stifling weight that left her gasping for air. Her fingers clutched the bed sheets as she struggled, the grip of the past refusing to let go.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears falling faster, hot and relentless, until finally she wrenched herself free. Sitting up in bed with a shudder, her body trembling as she tried to steady her breaths, wiping her damp cheeks with shaking hands.

But the whispers didn’t fade, and neither did the memory. In the silence, she could still feel Marin’s ghostly grip, and could still hear the quiet accusations that haunted her.

And there, in the darkness, Kukui knew that no matter how far she tried to run, the past would never let her go.

back for more doo doo doo

Her eyes stared into his hollow now,

Her eyes stared into his hollow now, ringed in shadow, and he watched in horror as her skin started to peel, cracking and splitting as insects crawled from her mouth, her cheeks, her fingertips. Beetles, spiders, worms—wriggling through her flesh as it decayed, her expression unwavering as she repeated, voice hollow and raw, “You let me die, Kei. You weren’t there. You didn’t save me.”

Her body felt heavy, weighed down by a sickening dread that began to claw at her insides. Her skin prickled, cold sweat forming along her forehead, her pulse pounding in her ears. The shadows seemed to press closer, forming shapes in the darkness, and a familiar voice began to whisper in her ear, soft and venomous.

the slap sharp and brutal,

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears falling faster, hot and relentless, until finally, she wrenched herself free, sitting up in bed with a shudder, her body trembling as she tried to steady her breaths, wiping her damp cheeks with shaking hands.