The third mark appears when you lie to yourself

Rin didn’t speak to him for two days.

Not because she wanted to punish him, and not because she believed it would make him go away.

But because she was afraid that if she did talk to him… she’d believe him.

Every time she caught a glimpse of the cut on her shoulder through the mirror, the silence inside her cracked a little more. It hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown darker—almost like ink soaking deeper into skin. And she couldn’t explain it to anyone, not even herself.

On the second day, she noticed the school clock tick backward for three whole seconds before correcting itself.

No one else reacted.

On the third day, her best friend Hana looked right through her during roll call, even when Rin waved a hand in front of her face. Like she wasn’t there.

By the time lunch arrived, Rin stopped pretending it was just in her head.

The sky outside the windows was the wrong shade of gray—too smooth, too still. The clouds didn’t move. The birds weren’t flying. And even the wind didn’t exist anymore.

Akira sat silently beside her during class, arms folded, expression unreadable. He didn’t push her to talk. He never did.

But today, she did.

She waited until the teacher stepped out. Her voice came out quiet, but sharp.

“What’s happening to me?”

He didn’t look at her right away. His fingers tapped once on the edge of the desk.

“You’re waking up,” he said.

“Waking up to what?”

“To the part of yourself you buried when you were reborn.”

She turned to him fully. “Stop talking in riddles. Just tell me.”

He finally met her eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to survive the last curse.”

Her stomach dropped.

Akira leaned forward, speaking low enough that only she could hear.

“Someone rewrote your end. Ripped it out of time. And stitched a false life into the world around it.”

Rin’s throat felt dry.

“My family? My memories?”

“They’re real,” he said. “But they’re not… true. This version of you—this life—is a patch. A fragile one. And now it’s unraveling.”

Rin’s hands gripped the desk until her knuckles turned white.

“Why me?” she whispered.

He hesitated.

Then, softly: “Because you tried to take the curse into yourself last time. You tried to stop it.”

Her head spun.

She didn’t remember that. She didn’t remember any of it.

But her soul… ached.

Like something inside her did remember.

She stood up suddenly, chair scraping against the floor.

“I need air.”

She didn’t wait for the teacher’s return. She didn’t care who saw. She walked out of the classroom and didn’t stop until she reached the far end of the hallway—past the music room, the closed art studio, the broken window that never got fixed.

She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes.

And then—

Something tugged at her wrist.

She looked down.

Her scar had split open.

Not bleeding.

Glowing.

A slow, dim crimson that pulsed once…

Twice…

Then stopped.

She took a step back, breathing raggedly.

And that’s when she saw it.

Written faintly on the window beside her, fogged into the glass like someone had exhaled a secret:

“THE THIRD MARK APPEARS WHEN YOU LIE TO YOURSELF.”

Her reflection blinked.

She didn’t.

And in that instant, she saw something behind her in the glass.

A shadow.

Not Akira.

Not human.

It stood tall, faceless, draped in something that looked like skin stitched into silk. Its head tilted. Slowly. Inorganically. The glass cracked from top to bottom.

She turned around.

Nothing.

Just hallway.

But her scar burned now. Not just warm—hot.

Her knees buckled. She grabbed the wall, gasping.

A voice inside her whispered, not in words, but in knowing:

You lied. You said you weren’t afraid.

She fell.

And before her head hit the floor—

Akira caught her.

His arms wrapped around her gently, like muscle memory.

He lowered her carefully, his face pale with fear.