Page 304 of The Wishing Game

Now that I know it can be trusted, I need only to formulate my second question.

I close my eyes, inhaling and exhaling as I speak my next question.

"Show me what happened when Nikki died," I murmur. My voice doesn't feel like my own. Hell, my own body doesn't feel like my own.

It's almost as if I'm in a bad dream that I can't wake up from.

My limbs tremble as I hold the mirror close, silently begging it to show me something different than what Anami suggested.

Ze couldn't have possibly had anything to do with Nikki's death. He didn't know me then—he didn't knowus.Why would a powerful god get involved with humans? More than anything, is he even allowed to harm humans? From what I remember, he can only kill with express consent from the Supremes.

I stop short as I realize how many excuses I'm making for him. Yet just entertaining the thought that he could have hurt Nikki makes me lightheaded, a vise squeezing my heart in my chest and making it bleed.

I care about him. He's my friend. He cares about me too. He's shown it numerous times.

God! Why am I even doubting him? I got to know him well over the last few months, and I don't believe he'd be capable of this. Anami was just trying to mess with my mind. The mere fact that I'm interrogating the mirror about that seems like a betrayal of trust.

Yet just as I'm about to throw the mirror away, the image shifts.

There's a fire burning in the background as two young people embrace each other on the pavement.

Me and Nikki.

The car had already exploded, one part of it hitting me in the back of my head and causing me to pass out. Even with no agency, my body is next to Nikki's, holding on to him and shielding him as best as I can. There's charred debris all around us, surrounding us like a cocoon, but one that seeks to harm not protect.

We're both bloodied. The ground around us is stained with red.

So much fucking blood.

Immediately, my arms go slack, the memories of that day too powerful. They immobilize me as tears stab at the corners of my eyes.

God, I don't even want toseethis, for it means reliving the worst moment of my entire life.

But the image zooms out.

The glint of a sword is the next thing I make out—but it's a sword I'm familiar with. Down the middle ridge, black blood pours from its owner, dripping down the groove and onto the ground.

The image zooms out more.

There he is.

Dressed in his typical black, a contrast to the white of the sword. His eyes are as they were before—black and unfeeling. And his tattoos...they're moving somehow, shifting on his face as if they had a life of their own.

He's just standing there, his expression cold. He's staring into the distance, ignoring the people behind him. Slowly, he blinks.

In the next second, he's gone.

What...

I inhale sharply as I feel a panic attack about to sink its claws into me.

What was he doing there? Why was he at the scene of the accident?

My knees hit the hard ground. There's suddenly a dearth of air. I gasp and gasp in an attempt to fill my lungs with oxygen, but it's all in vain.

Was Anami right? Did Ze have anything to do with our accident?

Somehow, I refuse to believe this.

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