Souta Fujimura stood on the rooftop, staring down at the world below. The city lights blurred together, a mess of colors that had no meaning. His fingers were cold, his body numb.

  One step.

  That’s all it would take.

  No more pain. No more loneliness. No more pretending that tomorrow would be any different.

  But just as he shifted forward, a voice—calm, steady—spoke inside his mind.

  "Is this really how your story ends?"

  His breath caught. The voice didn’t sound desperate or afraid. It wasn’t begging him to stop. It simply asked, as if it already knew the answer.

  And suddenly, like a flood breaking through a dam, the memories rushed in.

  Sixteen years of pain. Sixteen years of being invisible, unwanted. Sixteen years of trying, failing, and falling deeper into the kind of despair that no one saw.

  He wasn’t standing on this rooftop because of one bad day. He was here because of all of them.

  ---

  Age 6 – The First Wound

  "Hey, Souta, let me see your toy."

  The boy’s voice was friendly, his smile wide. Souta, hopeful for a friend, handed over the small action figure.

  A second later, the boy threw it to the ground and stomped on it.

  Laughter erupted.

  Souta stared at the broken pieces, his throat tight. “Why…?”

  The boy shrugged. "Because I felt like it."

  That day, Souta learned that some people hurt others just because they can.

  That was his first lesson in cruelty.

  ---

  Age 9 – The Loneliness That Followed

  He stopped trying to make friends after that. It was easier that way.

  At lunch, he sat alone. During recess, he wandered the schoolyard, kicking at rocks, pretending it didn’t bother him.

  But it did.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Because when he looked around, he saw groups of kids laughing, playing, whispering secrets to each other.

  He wanted that.

  But every time he tried, he was either ignored or mocked.

  So, he stopped trying.

  And that’s when he realized—loneliness doesn’t come from being alone. It comes from wanting not to be.

  ---

  Age 12 – Betrayal Hurts More Than Bullying

  Middle school started, and for the first time in years, he thought things might change.

  Ren. His first real friend. Or so he thought.

  They ate lunch together. Walked home together. Talked about stupid things like video games and manga. Souta let himself believe—just for a moment—that maybe he wasn’t alone anymore.

  Then, one day, in front of the whole class, Ren laughed and said,

  "Did you guys know Souta still sleeps with a stuffed animal?"

  It wasn’t true. It didn’t matter. The laughter that followed echoed in his head for days.

  Souta wanted to ask, Why?

  But he already knew the answer.

  Some people don’t hurt you because they hate you.

  They hurt you because they can.

  ---

  Age 13 – The Rumors That Never Left

  He wasn’t a troublemaker. He never broke the rules. But that didn’t stop them from pinning the blame on him.

  “Fujimura! Principal’s office. NOW.”

  The teacher’s voice was sharp, filled with disappointment.

  He tried to explain. The cigarette wasn’t his. He didn’t even smoke. But the other boys had laughed, patting his shoulder. "Come on, don’t be a liar, Fujimura."

  No one believed him.

  The rumor spread. "Souta's a delinquent now."

  He lost the little he had left. Teachers looked at him differently. Students avoided him. His mother barely spoke to him.

  And it hit him—truth didn’t matter.

  People believed whatever they wanted.

  ---

  Age 15 – The Breaking Point

  By now, he had stopped expecting kindness. He moved through life like a ghost, unnoticed unless someone needed a target.

  Some days, the words didn’t hurt anymore.

  Other days, they crushed him.

  "He should just disappear already."

  That sentence stuck with him.

  Maybe they were right.

  Maybe he should.

  ---

  Age 16 – The Rooftop

  And now, here he was.

  The wind howled around him, tugging at his clothes, whispering the promise of silence.

  But then—

  "Souta… is this really all you are?"

  The voice wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t cruel. It was calm, steady, honest.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don’t know." His voice cracked. "I don’t know who I am anymore."

  "Then why are you letting them decide for you?"

  He froze.

  "You think jumping will end the pain? Maybe it will. But it won’t erase sixteen years of suffering. It won’t make them regret anything. It won’t change the past. It will only mean that they won."

  His legs trembled. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

  "Live."

  The answer was simple. Too simple.

  "Live, Souta. Not just exist. Not just survive. Live for yourself, not for them."

  Tears burned his eyes. "I don’t know how."

  "Then learn. Start small. Breathe. Get up tomorrow. Eat something you like. Look at the sky. Read a book. And keep listening. Because I’ll be here. No matter what."

  The cold pressed against him.

  His body still ached.

  The pain hadn’t vanished.

  But for the first time in years, he wanted to step back.

  And he did.

  That night, Souta Fujimura left the rooftop.

  And he took his first step toward something he never thought he’d have.

  A future.