The fog pressed against Bawang Putih's skin like cold breath.
He gripped Bawang Merah's hand tightly.
But as they walked, her fingers felt thinner. Bonier.
He looked down.
They weren't her fingers anymore.
He stopped.
She stopped.
He turned to her slowly.
Her face was still Bawang Merah's — almost.
But her smile was wrong.
Too wide.
And her eyes… empty.
He pulled his hand back.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The thing wearing her skin cocked its head.
"Does it matter?" it whispered in her voice. "You already chose to stay."
Putih stepped back.
The fog around him twisted.
And in it, Jahe appeared again — but not the calm, watchful Jahe from before.
This one was grinning.
Mocking.
"This is where I went," he said.
"After the crash."
"I begged for another chance. And it gave me you."
Putih shook his head. "You're not Jahe."
"No," the thing said. "I'm the piece of you that couldn't let go."
It stepped closer. "And I'm never leaving."
The fog thickened.
Faces formed within it.
His mother. His father. Classmates. Strangers.
All with his eyes.
All whispering the same thing:
"Stay."
"Stay."
"Stay."
Putih fell to his knees.
Hands on his ears.
But the voices were inside.
Under his skin.
And then…
A light.
A single voice breaking through the noise.
"Putih!"
Real. Familiar.
He looked up.
Bawang Merah — the real one — was there.
She held something.
A mirror shard.
From the crash.
Blood-stained.
"Take it," she cried. "Before it does."
He reached for it.
And everything screamed.
He stabbed the shard into the ground.
The fog cracked.
Reality bled through.
And the world — the real world — came rushing back.
Putih awoke in a hospital bed.
Bright light.
White sheets.
His sister sleeping in a chair beside him.
Breathing. Real. Alive.
He turned his head.
And saw the window.
In the reflection—
Just him.
No Jahe.
No smiles.
No monsters.
Just silence.
For the first time in months.
And in that silence…
He cried.