Yandere Stream

Chapter 117: Before the First Chapter

Kai’s heart stopped. Not figuratively, but for one impossible, suspended instant, everything inside him simply ceased to function. The cold light pouring from the tunnel swallowed the edge of the platform, stretching long shadows across the stone. Steam from the first train drifted toward it only to dissolve before reaching the approaching locomotive, as though two entirely different worlds refused to touch.

"Kai..." the voice repeated softly and patiently. "...look at me."

Every instinct screamed at him not to. He looked anyway.

The second train emerged slowly from the darkness. It was nothing like the first. The conductor’s locomotive had been beautiful, with polished brass, gleaming black steel, and the careful craftsmanship of something maintained by hands that respected time. This train looked forgotten. Its iron body was dull, not with rust but with age beyond rust. Thousands upon thousands of tiny scratches covered its surface, as though countless hands had brushed against it over the years. There were no symbols, no railway insignia, and no numbers painted along its side. Even its wheels were silent. They turned without sound, friction, or effort. The only thing that seemed alive about it was the headlamp. Its pale white light swept across the platform until it settled directly on Kai.

The train came to a stop without a whistle or a hiss of steam. There was only stillness. Then the carriage door opened.

A man stepped down.

He looked no older than thirty. He wore a simple black coat, with no uniform, badge, or watch to suggest he belonged to any railway. If Kai had passed him on the street, he would never have looked twice. Yet the moment their eyes met, a violent headache exploded behind Kai’s temples. Images flashed through his mind in rapid succession: a classroom, rain against a bedroom window, his mother smiling, a library, an old paperback with torn corners, someone laughing, someone crying, and a familiar voice saying, "Read one more Chapter."

Kai staggered. Luna caught his arm before he could fall.

"Kai!"

He pressed a hand against his forehead. "I’m okay."

He wasn’t.

The memories didn’t feel like his.

Or perhaps they did.

The stranger smiled, not triumphantly but sadly. "You finally remembered."

Kai forced himself upright and met the man’s gaze. "Who are you?"

The stranger studied him for several seconds. There was warmth in his eyes, but there was also exhaustion—an exhaustion so profound it seemed woven into the very core of his existence.

"I’ve had many names."

Kai almost laughed despite the pain. "Everyone says that."

The man’s smile deepened slightly. "I know."

He glanced toward the conductor. "We’ve met before."

The conductor gave the smallest nod. "We have."

"You still refuse to tell people yours?"

"I no longer have one."

The stranger chuckled faintly. "Neither do I."

For a brief moment, they looked less like enemies and more like old colleagues carrying the burden of the same impossible duty.

Kai stepped forward. "No more riddles. I’m tired of them."

His voice echoed through the station.

"I want a straight answer."

The stranger’s expression became almost apologetic. "So did I."

"When?"

"When I first woke up."

Silence followed.

Kai frowned. "What does that mean?"

The man looked toward the frozen city beyond the station before asking, "Tell me, Kai. What was the first story you ever loved?"

The question caught him completely off guard.

"My first story?"

He tried to think.

Nothing came.

Not the title.

Not the author.

Only a feeling remained. A rainy afternoon beneath a blanket. Someone reading beside him. Warmth. Comfort. Safety.

The words themselves were gone.

The stranger watched him carefully.

"You see?"

Kai looked back at him.

"I remember something."

"No," the stranger said gently. "You remember being changed. The story itself is gone."

Daniel frowned. "What exactly are we talking about?"

The stranger turned toward him.

"Do you remember the first stranger who ever made you laugh?"

Daniel opened his mouth, then stopped.

"I... no."

"But I remember laughing."

The stranger nodded.

"Exactly."

He looked around at everyone gathered on the platform.

"We remember the people who stay. We forget the ones who begin our journeys."

Noah’s eyes widened.

"The first Chapter."

The stranger smiled.

"Yes."

Noah swallowed hard. "I know what you are."

The smile faded.

"Do you?"

"You aren’t a narrator."

"No."

"You aren’t a character."

"No."

Realization slowly spread across Noah’s face.

"You’re the beginning."

The platform fell silent.

Even the conductor lowered his head.

After a long moment, the stranger nodded.

"I was."

Kai stared at him.

"The beginning?"

The man looked toward the silent train behind him.

"I was the first page. The first sentence. The first reason someone decided to keep reading."

His expression grew distant.

"But when a story continues, people rarely go back."

Fragments stirred inside Kai’s mind. Buying a book because its opening captured him. Falling in love with a story because of a first Chapter. Reaching the ending years later without ever thinking about how it all began.

The stranger seemed almost amused by the realization spreading across Kai’s face.

"You remember now."

Kai whispered, "...You’re not from my story."

"No."

"I’m from..."

He hesitated.

The stranger finished for him.

"Every story."

The conductor finally spoke.

"You should not be here."

The stranger looked at him calmly.

"I know."

"This station is not yours."

"I know."

"Then why have you come?"

For the first time, the stranger’s smile vanished completely.

His gaze shifted toward Adrian.

The unwritten young man had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, standing frozen beneath the station lights. Confused. Overwhelmed. Afraid.

The stranger studied him for several seconds before answering.

"Because someone has created a story with no beginning."

The words struck Kai with the force of a physical blow.

Adrian.

A protagonist without a first Chapter.

Without a beginning.

The stranger looked directly at Kai.

"And if he chooses an ending before he discovers who he is, every story after his will begin forgetting how to start."

The conductor slowly closed his eyes, as though he had spent a very long time hoping those words would never need to be spoken aloud. When he opened them again, he looked older than before—far older.

He met Kai’s gaze.

Then, with a slow breath, he said the one thing Kai never expected to hear.

"Mr. Mercer, I’m afraid this is no longer a problem even I can solve."

The station lights flickered overhead, and for the first time since the train had arrived, genuine uncertainty settled across the platform.

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