DANCING WITH THE DEVIL | CHISHIYA X OC |

CHAPTER NINE
With the first glance, the end began

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Seina never truly liked herself. She hated the way she felt so fragile, so fleeting, and how she could just vanish one day, leaving no trace behind.

As a child, she stood out. It was no surprise, really. Her father was an expert, a famous doctor whose addiction to alcohol was a poorly kept secret. It consumed him just as much as the emotional distance at home did, a coldness that no one dared to confront, as if everything was fine when it was anything but.

Her mother, on the other hand, was the cold perfection—beautiful, white elegance, silent, meaningless smiles, and complete emotional detachment.

This remained unchanged even when Seina came home from the university to find that her father had taken his own life.
They never spoke about it.
The subject was never broached, and the "whys" were never asked.
It was just treated as a fact, and that was when Seina felt something in her break for the first time.

She could never explain why she followed in her father's footsteps. Maybe it was the thrill of understanding the path he had walked—curious about what had led him to make the choices he did.
At medical school, she excelled. She finally found something that sparked her interest. That is, until fate decided to repeat itself.

When she learned, scientifically, how the bullet had taken her father's life, how the bullet pierced his skull and destroyed the man who, in some way, had always protected her in the mere blink of an eye, Seina decided there was nothing left to lose. Nothing had weight anymore if, and with one choice, everything could be gone.

She began to take risks, embracing a life built on unpredictability and dangerous decisions, as though she could outrun her own fear of being forgotten, of being nothing.
She craved the rush, the freedom that came with throwing caution to the wind. But deep down, she knew it was all just a distraction. She was chasing something she couldn't name, and every time she pushed herself further, the darkness in her only grew stronger.

There was a pull toward destruction—her father's legacy, a ghost haunting her, urging her to push the boundaries of what was possible, to see just how far she could go before everything crumbled.
It wasn't about self-destruction, though; it was about control. She needed to feel that she was the one steering the wheel, even if it was toward an inevitable crash.

As she sank deeper into her reckless pursuit, she realized that her path was no longer just about surviving—it was about playing the game. A game where nothing was certain, where there were no rules, no guarantees, and where the stakes were always life or death.
In a world like that, who cared about whether you were remembered? All that mattered was making it to the next moment, the next breath, the next decision, no matter how dangerous it was.