CHAPTER 28

As Chiaki recalls, at one point in time Soren was the brightest star

I remember the first time Soren began to question his role as a Superstar.

His father suddenly fell ill and needed to undergo surgery immediately. The surgery failed, and he was pronounced dead on the operating table. All of us were there to receive the news—Soren, his mother Mrs. Park, Sheila, and myself. I remember how cold the surgeon was about breaking that news to us, as if he were simply citing a report and next steps. As Mrs. Park wept, the surgeon gave her a pat on the shoulder. It was something I could only describe as the appropriate gesture.

When the surgical team finished cleaning up, they didn’t seem particularly apologetic about their results. They left the emergency room in lukewarm spirits at worst. One even cracked a few jokes to her colleagues as they passed us in our grief. The air they gave off was that this was a procedural result that wasn’t worth taking seriously.

Mrs. Park was a luminescent like her son. She fell into despair after the death of her husband. The chaos swelling within her must’ve been too heavy for her to bear, and she focused that energy on the medical team that failed to save her husband. Keenly attuned to his luminescence, Soren dealt with her before she could even begin to exact her revenge.

Putting an end to your own mother to spare the lives of the people who caused her grief in the first place. It’s truly fortunate that the world had someone so selfless. Don’t you think?

They say everything can be seen with perfect vision when viewed in hindsight. Vainglorious as I was, the only focus I had was to surpass my best friend in our perpetual rivalry. In the open, he was the same as ever—a bright, shining beacon of inspiration. Like everyone else, I was blinded by that beacon.

Behind the curtains, when there was no show to run, he was ever more distressed. Every Shade he disposed of must’ve reminded him of her. It must’ve been worse whenever there was a luminescent soul behind it. How can you keep your sanity when your eyes are opened to the full weight of your actions—when it clicks that each Shade you encounter might be a soul seeking solace? And the only solace you can provide is an execution?

It should have been obvious when Sheila suddenly retired from being a Superstar. She was looking for alternative solutions. She must’ve started doing this because she was worried about Soren. It’s only natural to be worried about someone you love so dearly. She must’ve hoped to find something in her research that would give him hope.

Then, Soren himself became a Shade.

I don’t know when it happened, and I don’t know how long it was before I found out. The folly of Stars who are too sure of themselves. Shades formed from luminescents are indistinguishable from anyone else until they’re caught in the act.

By the time I found him, he had claimed the energy of everyone in downtown Halo Ridge. Several Stars had perished against him, or turned into Shades themselves, infused with his chaos after breaking.

I remember that wretched tone as he saw me and growled, “Chiaki…”

We’re taught that once a luminescent becomes a Shade, there is no going back. The only way to deal with them is with luminescence’s sharp edge. The choice I made against Soren was no different than any other. Best friend or not, I convinced myself that was the only choice I could make.

I remember when I told Sheila what I had done. I thought she would become a Shade herself, right then and there.

“You abandoned him so easily,” she told me. “But I won’t. I never will.”

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Chiaki put the picture face down on the desk with a small clack. She had enough of remembering for now. There was something more important to do tonight. She looked out her bedroom window. High Tower’s looming spire could be seen even here, beyond the north end of campus.

There was more to being a Star than destroying effigies formed of chaos. This, she truly believed. But if asked what that something more was… Chiaki didn’t have an answer. She could only protect the aspiring Stars she chose to trust in, and hope they found that answer it in her stead.

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The floor in the center of the makeshift office had been completely cleared for this purpose. Once Sheila finished taking measurements to make sure there was enough space, she walked over to her desk, where Pike and Mindie stood waiting for her. Her nephew shifted uncomfortably and avoided anyone’s eyes; his companion eyed her warily. Indeed, her two students’ respective looks of reluctance were understandable, but they’d be thankful for the final results. Of this, she was sure.

“Now then.” She held up a piece of chalk, indicating for them to do the same. A determined smirk curled along her lips. “Shall we begin?”