Somewhere in Japan…
In a room swallowed by shadows, a man sat alone.
He did not move.
The glow of the computer screen illuminated the hollow pits beneath his eyes—bruised, purple, and clotted from nights that bled into each other without rest. His cheeks were pale, streaked with tears that slid down like ghosts, unnoticed. Not a single expression touched his face.
Around him, the world had crumbled.
Papers lay in chaos, like fallen leaves in a forgotten forest. Crushed soda cans, half-drunk bottles, and spoiled wrappers formed a makeshift wall around his loneliness. Dust claimed everything untouched—blankets, books, an old picture frame. This wasn't just a room.
It was a graveyard of dreams.
His lips parted, quivering. A voice rasped out, hoarse and barely audible.
"I… I lost…"
His body trembled as both hands clawed into his scalp, nails digging in as though to tear the thoughts out by force.
"Why is this happening to me…?"
Silence.
A silence so thick, so cruel, it swallowed his breath like a predator.
And then—
A scream.Raw.Unfiltered.A tear in the veil of sanity.
"HELP ME! I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!"
He slammed his fist into the desk. The monitor flickered, then blinked to black—swallowed by the weight of his suffering.
—Saturday | 8:30 AM (February 4th)—
Gasp!
Asahi's eyes shot open.
His chest rose and fell in panicked, broken rhythm. Cold sweat drenched his body. His hands trembled as they gripped the sheets, nails clutching like he was about to fall off the edge of existence.
Golden sunlight bathed the room. Birds chirped outside the window.
Everything was normal.
But inside him—nothing was.
His heart thundered, not with life, but with fear.
"What… what was that?"
He sat up slowly, breath still catching, eyes scanning the room as though expecting shadows to leap from the corners.
That dream…
No—it wasn't just a dream.
He felt it.That despair.That broken soul.
"That man… that person was… me?"
A buzz snapped him back. His eyes shot toward the red blinking digits of the alarm clock.
8:30 AM.
"SHIT! I'M GONNA BE LATE!"
In a frenzy, Asahi bolted from bed, tearing through piles of clothes like a soldier mid-evacuation.
"Where the hell are my socks?!"
—Kitchen | The Morning Frenzy—
The scent of grilled fish and miso danced through the house, weaving with rays of sunlight. The warmth was nostalgic—like a photo of a memory that never changed.
Asahi charged in.
"Mom! My socks!"
By the stove stood a woman wrapped in simplicity. Brown hair tied neatly back. Eyes like a warm sea. Her apron bore a few soy sauce stains—a quiet testament to years of love.
She didn't turn.
Just casually pointed toward the refrigerator.
"They're in there."
Asahi blinked. "...What?"
Still humming, she replied, "Put them in to cool. The weather's hot today."
The silence that followed could've broken glass.
"WHY. SOCKS?!" His face was deadpan. A man crushed by logic.
She turned, smiling. "I saw a video online! Someone said it's good for your health!"
From behind a newspaper, a chuckle escaped.
His father, dressed in a sharp office suit, grinned as he lowered the paper. "You believe every weird trick you see online, huh?"
Asahi slapped a hand to his forehead.
"Why is this my family…"
"Come on, you're late."
"SHIT!"
Asahi grabbed the frozen socks, shoved them on with emotional damage, shoved toast into his mouth, and stormed out.
SLAM!
The classroom door burst open. Asahi skidded inside.
"SENSEI!"
The teacher, a young woman with an unbothered face, looked up. "Oh no…"
Asahi stood firm, hand to heart like a war hero.
"Sensei… I helped a grandpa."
Eyebrows were raised. Snickering began.
"He needed… a potion. One to keep him alive. I traveled through time itself, delivered it through fire and wind, and returned here… just in time."
The class exploded in laughter.
Sensei pinched her brow. "You need better lies, Asahi."
"Damn it…" he muttered, walking to his seat. "I should've said dragons."
—Evening | After School—
Asahi stepped out into the twilight, stretching out the tension in his limbs. His shoulders sagged with quiet exhaustion.
"Finally…"
A voice rang beside him. "Come on, let's walk home together."
Anari. Arms crossed, eyes locked on him.
He paused. Scratched his neck. "Not today."
Her smile dimmed. "What? But we always—"
He walked ahead, waving a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah… I'm going."
Anari stood still.
She didn't chase him this time.
"Idiot," she muttered.
—On the Way Home—
The streets basked in sunset. Gold dripped from rooftops, and shadows stretched like sleepy cats.
Asahi's hands were shoved deep in his pockets.
"If she came over, she'd just take over my room…"
He exhaled.
"Besides, Dad's coming early today. If he sees her—"
Imagination struck.
"I KNEW IT, SON! A BEAUTIFUL GIRL, JUST LIKE YOUR MOM! I'M SO PROUD!"
"Oh god." He shook his head violently. "Stop. Thinking. Like this."
—Home | Front Door—
He sighed, rolling his shoulders. Inserted the key.
"I'm home!"
No answer.
He frowned. "Mom? Your favorite son has returned."
Still silence.
The kind of silence that scratches at the back of your neck.
His smile wavered.
He stepped inside.
Something was wrong.
—Home | Kitchen—
"Mom?"
His voice grew smaller.
He reached the kitchen doorway.
His breath caught in his throat.
"No…"
His mother—collapsed. Cold tile. Unmoving.
Time stopped.
His vision blurred, limbs locked.
"Oi… no way…"
He fell beside her, hands shaking as he grabbed her shoulders.
"Mom! Mom! Wake up!!"
No response.
Pulse. He checked—frantic.
Nothing.
His stomach flipped. His soul tore in half.
"She's… she's dead…?"
He screamed.
"AAAHHH!! NO! NO—NO!!"
The front door burst open.
"What happened—?!"
His father ran in, froze.
Bag dropped. Face drained.
He rushed beside her. Held her face.
"Stay with me! PLEASE!"
Asahi couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Couldn't feel.
His thoughts turned static. His world fell apart in silence and screams.
"No… no… what do I do now…?"
The floor felt distant beneath his knees. His body swayed.
Everything around him…
…turned black.
"ASAHI!"
His father's voice echoed—
And then was gone.