Yandere Stream

White.

Nothing but white.

Kai couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or closed.

There was no floor beneath his feet.

No sky overhead.

No weight pressing against his body.

No pain.

No sound.

No sense of falling.

Only endless silence.

It stretched on long enough for time itself to lose meaning.

Then—

"...Kai."

A familiar voice drifted through the emptiness.

Not Luna.

Not Elias.

Not the older version of himself.

The little boy.

The First Witness.

Kai opened his eyes.

The white dissolved like mist beneath the morning sun.

He wasn’t inside the Library anymore.

He wasn’t standing in Apartment 7C.

He wasn’t beneath the impossible gray sky of the First Witness’s memory.

Instead...

He found himself standing inside a small bedroom.

A child’s bedroom.

Sunlight spilled through lace curtains, filling the room with a warm golden glow.

Dust floated lazily through the air.

Toy soldiers stood in neat rows across a wooden shelf, each one carefully positioned as though their owner had spent hours arranging them.

A faded baseball glove rested beside a pair of muddy boots near the door.

Books were stacked unevenly on a bedside table.

A wooden rocking horse sat quietly in one corner.

Everything looked...

Ordinary.

Painfully, beautifully ordinary.

The kind of room every child deserved to grow up in.

The little boy sat on the edge of the bed, gently swinging his legs.

He looked up as Kai entered and smiled.

"You made it."

Kai slowly looked around.

"...Where are we?"

"My room."

Kai blinked.

"You had a room?"

The boy laughed.

A soft, genuine laugh.

"I had a life before I became a Witness."

Something about those words settled heavily inside Kai’s chest.

He walked farther into the room.

A framed family photograph rested atop the dresser.

Kai picked it up.

The frame itself was perfectly clear.

The little boy smiled brightly in the center.

But everyone standing beside him...

Had blurred faces.

His parents.

His siblings.

Every feature had dissolved into soft gray smudges.

Only the little boy remained untouched.

Kai frowned.

"...Why can’t I see them?"

The boy answered without hesitation.

"You aren’t supposed to."

There was no sadness in his voice.

No bitterness.

Just quiet acceptance.

"As long as you remember them as people instead of names..."

He looked toward the photograph.

"...they’re safe."

Kai wasn’t sure he understood.

But somehow...

It still made sense.

He set the frame down gently and pulled out the wooden chair beside the desk before sitting.

"...So."

He folded his arms.

"...what’s your real name?"

The little boy tilted his head.

"I already told you."

Kai sighed.

"No."

"You told me forgetting it meant we’d failed."

"Exactly."

Kai pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I hate when people answer questions like that."

"So did Elias."

Kai groaned dramatically.

"Can somebody in this story stop comparing me to him?"

The little boy burst into laughter.

Not polite laughter.

Not forced amusement.

The kind of laugh children gave with their whole body.

His shoulders shook.

His feet kicked against the bed.

For just a moment...

He looked exactly like a normal ten-year-old.

"You really are brothers."

The room slowly grew quiet again.

Kai’s gaze drifted across the desk.

A small notebook rested beside a box of colored pencils.

Unlike the Witness’s notebook...

This one looked worn from years of ordinary childhood use.

Curious, Kai picked it up.

The first few pages were filled with childish drawings.

Trees.

Birds.

Clouds.

A stick figure holding a fishing rod.

A dog...

With six legs.

Kai couldn’t help smiling.

"Your art was terrible."

The boy shrugged.

"I was ten."

Kai laughed.

"Fair point."

He turned another page.

His smile slowly faded.

Every drawing after that showed the same thing.

A black door.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Hundreds of sketches.

Some rough.

Some incredibly detailed.

Each one slightly different from the last.

Each one revealing another impossible angle.

Kai slowly looked up.

"...You saw it."

The boy nodded.

"First."

Kai’s fingers tightened around the notebook.

"How?"

A faint smile crossed the boy’s lips.

"I found it."

He paused.

Then quietly corrected himself.

"No."

His expression became distant.

"It found me."

Silence settled over the room.

Kai carefully closed the notebook.

"What happened?"

The little boy slipped off the bed.

He walked toward the window.

Kai followed.

Outside...

Children chased each other through the street.

Parents laughed on front porches.

Someone watered flowers.

A dog bounded after a bouncing ball, barking happily.

Peace.

Simple.

Warm.

The little boy rested one hand against the window.

"I lived here."

He pointed toward one of the neighboring houses.

"My mother baked fresh bread every Sunday."

He pointed toward another.

"My father repaired watches."

A tiny smile appeared.

"My sister hated vegetables."

His eyes softened.

"I thought..."

He watched the children running through the sunlight.

"...life would always stay like this."

Kai stood quietly beside him.

"And then?"

The little boy stared toward the distant horizon.

"It rained."

Kai frowned.

"...That’s it?"

The boy slowly shook his head.

"No."

His voice became almost a whisper.

"It rained..."

He closed his eyes.

"...for thirty-seven days."

Outside the window...

The world changed.

The warm sunlight disappeared.

Dark clouds rolled across the sky.

Rain began falling.

At first gently.

Then harder.

The children vanished from the streets.

Parents hurried indoors.

Doors slammed shut.

The neighborhood emptied.

The cheerful world outside slowly darkened.

The boy continued speaking.

"Everyone thought it was strange."

"But not impossible."

"So..."

"They waited."

The rain grew heavier.

Water rushed through gutters.

Thunder rolled overhead.

"I got bored."

His voice carried no emotion.

"I left the house."

He slowly raised one trembling hand.

"There."

Far down the empty road...

A black door stood alone in the middle of the street.

No walls.

No building.

Nothing supporting it.

Just...

Waiting.

Kai felt his heartbeat slow.

"The first door."

The little boy nodded.

"I knocked."

Kai already knew.

"It answered."

"No."

The boy looked at him.

"I opened it."

Every raindrop outside froze.

Not gradually.

Instantly.

The storm became a painting.

Thousands of droplets hung motionless in the air.

The little boy lowered his hand.

"I thought..."

His voice cracked slightly.

"...someone was trapped inside."

Kai closed his eyes.

Of course.

A child.

Trying to help.

Trying to save someone.

The boy laughed softly.

A tired laugh.

"I’ve had a thousand years to think about that moment."

He looked at the frozen rain.

"I still would’ve opened it."

Kai stared at him.

"You don’t regret it?"

"Oh..."

The little boy smiled sadly.

"I regret everything that happened after."

His eyes met Kai’s.

"But not helping."

Silence stretched between them.

Thunder rolled across the frozen sky.

The little boy turned toward the distant door.

"I wasn’t the Author."

Kai frowned.

"What?"

"I wasn’t the first monster."

He shook his head slowly.

"I wasn’t even the first Witness."

Kai’s stomach tightened.

"...What?"

The little boy slowly pointed toward the open doorway standing alone in the frozen rain.

"There..."

Kai followed his finger.

"There was already someone inside."

A silhouette stood just beyond the threshold.

Tall.

Perfectly still.

Watching them.

Not the creature.

Not a monster.

A person.

The figure stepped forward.

One slow step.

Then another.

Leaving the darkness behind.

Walking into the frozen rain.

Into the pale gray light.

Kai’s breath caught.

His heart stopped.

It was...

Him.

Not the older Kai.

Not Elias.

Not another version twisted by countless loops.

Just...

Kai.

Exactly as he looked now.

The same face.

The same clothes.

The same silver ring gleaming on his finger.

The other Kai smiled.

A sad, knowing smile.

Then he spoke seven quiet words that froze the blood in Kai’s veins.

"I’ve finally found the beginning again."

Behind him...

The black door slowly began to close.