Prologue

“Is he dead?” His trembling right hand shut to his mouth in disbelief, in denial…pain. “Oh my God, he can’t. God please, no.” The broken boy sank to the floor, falling to his knees and watching the world spin around and around without any intention to stop. Tears streamed down his face as his gaze fell upon the pale white body in the water.

So beautiful, so perfect, there were no impurities in that body, no traces of imperfection in the air around him. Even dead, he was mesmerizingly bewitching.

Honestly, he didn’t know what to cry for.

On the other hand, for the other living boy, the story was completely different. There were no tears; his legs seemed to move mechanically towards the water. One step, two steps, three steps, sinks in the water. Four steps, and he was in front of that body, the cold skin reflecting the moonlight drew a flawless pattern of tomorrows and yesterdays, nows and nevers…always.

The boy moved his hands and placed them around that fragile body. The song reached his ear, an eternal song that will outlive this moment. It whispered sinisterly caressing his cheek, it assured him this was real. He didn’t understand a moment, a scene from this movie although the world moved in slow motion, he couldn’t grasp it. At the moment he felt as lonely and empty as the body lying in his arms.

He didn’t know what to cry for:

He was dead.

He looked more beautiful than ever.

The soul…The soul sank into the depths of the world and resurfaced in other time. Nevertheless, sometimes Fate or whatever moves the world, for He still doesn’t know, has a different plan.

How many times did this story repeat itself?