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To you, Rei,
I don’t even know why this letter exists. Maybe no one will ever read it. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s only for me — so the words can finally sit in the world, and I can stop pretending they aren’t true. For so long, I told myself it wasn’t my fault. That things spiraled. That it wasn’t me who struck first. That you were the reason for everything. That I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. But lies rot when they’re repeated enough. And I’ve finally run out of space to hide behind them.
You were never like the others. Everyone else bent around me — laughed when I laughed, agreed when I spoke, did whatever I commanded because it was easier than thinking for themselves. They thought that was what they were supposed to do. But not you. You looked at me like I was nothing but a girl hiding behind masks and mirrors. You didn’t care about my status, my name, my reputation, or what people whispered behind my back. You just existed — steady, unshaken — and somehow that made my perfect little world start to crumble.
I hated it. I hated you for it. I hated that you never reacted the way I wanted you to. I hated that my words, my laughter, my teasing — everything I did to provoke you — never made you flinch. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You didn’t even look at me while everyone else did. You just sat there, quiet, untouchable, and somehow that made me feel smaller than I ever had before.
Every day after that, I started noticing things I never cared about before. How you walked with your head down, how everyone whispered when you passed, how not one person ever stood next to you. You didn’t fight back, not once. You let it happen — all of it — and somehow that made me furious. Every time you refused to react, I told myself it was defiance. That you were mocking me by not caring. That you were doing it on purpose to make me look weak. And I believed that lie, because it was easier than admitting I was the cruel one.
Maybe that’s when things really started falling apart.
The chair. The snap. I had pushed too far, like I always do. And when it hit, when the chaos erupted, I vomited in the classroom. For the first time, everyone saw the “ugly” side of me — the side that no one had ever seen. The side that mocked, that teased, that hid behind smiles and control. And just like that, the laughter, the whispers, the scorn — all of it came for me.
I, who had only ever mocked, only teased, only let the others do my work for me. I, who told myself it was harmless. I, who had only ever wanted attention. I, who believed that I did no wrong.
And you? You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You didn’t cry. You didn’t look. You just sat there, like none of it mattered. And that… that’s what broke me. That one quiet look you finally gave me, not pity, not fear — just judgment.
Weeks passed after that. Maybe months. I don’t even know anymore. The laughter, the whispers, the disgust — they never stopped. The same people who once praised me wouldn’t even say my name. I lost everything I built, everything I thought made me who I was. And still, you never looked at me. Not once. Not even when we passed in the hallway. Not even when I tried to catch your eye. It was like I didn’t exist.
I kept telling myself you were enjoying it. That you wanted me to suffer the way you did. That this was revenge. I needed to believe that, because the alternative — that you simply didn’t care — was unbearable. Every day, I grew angrier. More desperate. More hollow. Until eventually, I wasn’t thinking at all.
So I followed you. After school. I told myself you deserved it. I told myself you ruined me. That none of this would’ve happened if you had just reacted, if you had just looked at me when I still had the chance to be someone. I had a box cutter in my hand, and I thought ending it would make the noise stop. I didn’t realize until it was too late that the noise was me.
I told myself I didn’t do anything wrong. I told myself I only reacted to what you did. I told myself I was the victim. But now I know the truth. I wasn’t reacting — I was running. Running from the shame, the guilt, the mirror you held up without saying a word.
I am the reason everything happened. I let the others hurt you. I laughed. I mocked. I watched. And when it was over, I still tried to make it your fault. But it wasn’t. It never was.
You didn’t do anything wrong. You never asked for this. You never needed to defend yourself. You just existed. And I, in my pride, in my fear, destroyed you for it.
If there’s anything beyond this, if I exist anywhere after the end, I hope I can face you again. Not as the girl who blamed you. Not as the coward who let it all happen. But as someone who finally understands.
I am sorry. For the mockery. For the laughter. For the silence. For killing you...
You saw me for who I was. You never cared about my status, my popularity, my fame — you just saw me as an ordinary girl. You never thought I was special. You were the only one who didn’t treat me like I was above anyone else. I was supposed to hate you for that. But maybe that’s all I ever wanted to be seen as all along. Just a girl like anyone else.
I’m sorry for killing you, Rei. I’m sorry for everything. You wouldn’t have had to go through any of it if I had never been born. Even if you despise me, even if you hate me for everything I’ve done and wished you never met me— no matter what, I’m glad that I was able to meet you. And I’m glad that you made me realize what I truly wanted at the very end.
Maybe in another universe, we could’ve just been two ordinary high schoolers — maybe we could’ve walked home together after class, stopping at convenience stores for snacks, talking about nothing and everything. Maybe in that world, I would’ve gotten to see you smile — I bet you have the greatest smile in the world, the kind that could make everything else feel small and quiet for a moment. The kind that could’ve shown me what real happiness looks like, not the fake smiles I wore every day to hide how empty I really felt. The kind I wish I had the chance to protect instead of destroy.
Rei, I love you. This is the first and final truth I’ll ever tell you — and maybe that’s all I was ever trying to say, in all the wrong ways.
— Muu