Chapter 23 Echo
The afternoon wasn’t bright.Just hazy like usual.The fog wrapped itself around everything it touched, softening the buzz of conversations—of meaning altogether.Rika stood near the school gate.
She watched as the other children spilled out with end-of-day energy — Loud voices already halfway into the weekend.“Bye, Rika!!”Saki waved at her before running off.Rika lifted a hand, but too late — the thought took too long to travel to her fingers.She didn’t move for a moment, her gaze floating in the empty space ahead, losing focus.Little by little, her eyes drifted down, landing on the pavement floor. Resting.She traced the even lines absently.Vertical.Horizontal.And a weird jagged line with a small crack.Her head tilted a little.Everything else began to fade at the edges.
…A sound.A quiet rumble lingered in the air.It stopped.She looked up.Her mother’s car pulled in, a few steps off the curb.Rika watched it settle before she moved.She glanced behind her for no reason she could name, then opened the door.
She climbed in, snuggling into the back seat the way she always did.The car smelled nice. The scent of shampoo hanging in the air.Komaru leaned in, fastening the belt with a small click.Rika settled into the seat.“Did you have fun today?” her mother asked lightly.Rika nodded, letting her bag fall to her feet.Komaru’s gaze turned forward.Rika’s drifted to the window as the car eased into motion.The radio whispered soft songs.
Her mom hummed along, something nice.They drove like that for a while.Rika stayed quiet, watching the city fade in blurred streaks through the window.Absent shapes, soft memories.“I read the funniest thing earlier at work!”
Her mom said, voice lifting slightly.Rika’s eyes didn’t move, the story sliding past her—something about a cat in a bakery or a bakery with a cat. The road kept moving under them, as if that was all it was supposed to do.…Rika’s eyes lifted to the mirror.“Mom?” She murmured.“Hm?” Komaru’s head didn't turn, facing the road.“Is Ryu okay?”Their eyes met in the mirror for a second, Komaru glancing back, a weird expression stuck to her face.“He’s doing his best..”Komaru's hands tightened on the wheel. Rika's gaze didn't waver.“But he doesn’t eat with us anymore..”She said simply.“He’s tired, you know?”She glanced into the mirror Komaru’s eyes carried the usual fatigue she wore like a second skin. Rika stayed quiet, looking back out the window.The sky was still undecided.Then again, she mumbled.
“Is dad eating with us?”
Komaru sighed — a small, tired sound.
Quiet followed. A beat.
“There’s…”
Komaru began — eyes still facing the road.
“…a chance he might take a new position. Somewhere else.”Komaru glanced through the mirror, with a smile that felt out of place.
“If it works out, I could stay home all the time.”
“No more work?”
“Yeah! Eventually.”
Komaru’s voice lifted with energy.
“Oh..’
A beat.
“But Dad’s going away?”
Komaru’s hands shifted on the wheel.
“Maybe for a while. But later, we’d all be together again.”
She said, her voice steady.
Rika nodded silently.
Quiet settled back into the car, gentle and heavy.She leaned her forehead against the window, letting the cool glass press into her skin.Her breath fogged the surface — something that made her smile but only for a second.
Chapter 24 Glow
“mmm…”The clock rang too loud.Hana had woken up right before it.The ringing kept going, insistent and shameless… Her body sank further into the mattress, unwilling to move.“…!”A jolt.Arm pounced once.Quiet followed.Her eyes stayed shut for a while, cheek squished against the pillow, her thoughts a mushy blur.Eyelids parted slowly.Gaze lazily pulled toward the edge of the room.The door.No footsteps. No clatter from the kitchen yet.Heater, pipes, the faint electricity in the walls.The house buzzed in soft whispers.
Come on…
A sigh. A long one.She stretched one leg out slowly, letting the blanket fall away.Moving didn't feel too bad.She blinked, rolling onto her back — the ceiling greeted her.Stars laid there, scattered in random patterns.Her eyes followed one… then another…A constellation of nothing.Her hand pulled the blanket higher again — stopping before it reached to her chin.“...”A breath. A deep one— Before she rose. sitting on the edge of the bed.A long exhale followed, like her body wanted credit.Her eyes drifted sideways.A plush rabbit sat next to her, ear flopping over the manga volume she’d fallen asleep to.She nudged it with two fingers, the fabric familiar.Small comfort — little anchor."..."She stood. Unhurried. Feet padding toward the window.A yawn cracked her face open as she opened the window wide.A cold breeze slipped in, biting her nose.She closed it quickly — hugging her elbows, lingering in the after-chill.She glanced to her desk where her uniform laid unexpectant.“…”Kitchen.Cereal poured into a bowl.A rippling sound that echoed too loud.A cup of tea rested beside it, steam rising in thin ribbons.Hana ate standing up, leaning into the counter as she read through her notes.I’m not half ready for this…The prospect of a test coming up filled her with familiar dread.She paused, licking milk from her spoon absentmindedly.What if I just don’t go..?She stared out the window, space hanging thinly.…Movement came next because it always did.Bowl rinsed. Water running. Hands steady.Her notebook went in her bag. Her coat grabbed from the hook.And she didn’t argue with herself again.
The front door clicked gently behind her.A lonely note through the dark.Komaru slipped her keys into her pocket, pulling her jacket tight with one hand, the other holding a thermos that was still too hot to sip.The air smelled like water..She walked to the car slowly, her shoes tapping soft against the sidewalk. Soft echoes moving through the stillness.The house behind her was quiet still.. It could rest.The car door opened with a creak.Komaru slipped into the seat, thermos on the side.She checked the mirrors once before the keys went in.A soft whir.“TODAY’S BROADCAST—”The radio came alive—too loud at first. She turned it down, twice, just like always. Same station as yesterday. Same voice between songs.“Next one—Scenes of lost summer”She liked that. The consistency.Fingers tapped the steering wheel lightly before shifting into drive.
The morning unfolded in front of her like fabric being smoothed. Buildings passed without speaking, blurred by the stubborn fog that layered every morning.She’d glance. People waited at corners. A cat darted behind a wall and vanished, something she shouldn’t have noticed, she thought.A turn came.Cars on the left coagulated.Heavy.She didn't follow, taking a turn right.Different route.Strange...An impulse maybe ?But the street was quieter than the usual one.Trees lined the edge, their leaves just starting to appear again.Little freckles of green too dark to discern.The world looked tired, but in a sweet way.Like it had just woken up.The stoplight glowed ahead.Komaru’s grip loosened on the wheel, pressing the brake.The car eased slowly until it stopped.Her gaze held forward, following the glow of tail lights ahead.The way they vanished into the mist."..."Her eyes slid to the mirror.The ponytail looked weird even now, always did, to this day it resisted her....Memory brushed the edge of her thoughts.Not strong enough to fully recall.The sensation of being younger.A girl in someone else’s passenger seat.A thermos she didn’t know how to hold yet."…"A honk startled her.The light had turned green.She blinked.Twice, before she moved along.
Chapter 25 Pocket
The school bell had rung fifteen minutes ago.The other children spilled out of the gate loudly.Rika walked slower than the rest though, somewhere lost in the middle of the crowd. Her gaze stayed fixed on the storm of shoes racing on the floor.Wondering who’d win.A few steps more before her eyes met his.It seemed like he frowned.“Sorry,” she said as she approached him, looking up to meet his gaze.“It’s okay,” Ryuya replied, the words hung there for a moment until steps followed.She walked at his side, matching his pace quietly. The path away from school twisted slightly. Weird and crooked.The fog hadn’t lifted all day. It blurred all the distant buildings into faint, ghostly shapes. The kind that looked drawn on the sky.The last shouts from the school faded behind them.The crosswalk waited at the end of the slope, lines fading under the fog.Red light held them at the curb, cars slipped past in front of them. She looked at his hand, hesitated for a second before talking.“We’re making animals out of paper.”“Oh yeah?”“Mine’s a giraffe.”“Waow..”Her lips curved just slightly.…The fog seemed closer now, blurring the edges around them — brake lights pulsing red all around.“Did you go to school?” she asked.A horn sounded once and went quiet. Sharp and lonely.Ryuya's shoulders shifted.“..?”Rika's eyes widened as her brother lowered on one knee, just like in the movies.She blinked, staring down at him, until she felt a tug at her shoe.She looked down. One loop had come loose.He tied it with slow, careful fingers.“No tripping.”He said calmly.Then he stood up again.She looked up at him with the same wide-opened eyes.Until she glanced down again.His hand waited out of his pocket.She took it without a thought.
The balcony rail was damp. Droplets gathered at the edge and fell, one by one, into the gray below.“Did you go to school today ?” Saoto asked through the phone.“No… Mom says I have a fever.” Rinrin’s voice came out low, as if she was saving what little she had left.“Hmm…”The coffee in Saoto’s mug steamed faintly, tracing absent shapes in the cold air.“Thanks for calling me, it’s super boring right now”She sniffed; the sound was small, almost swallowed by the static. Saoto shifted the mug slightly, the faint crackle of the line mixing with the scrape of porcelain on the railing.“Is your brother working today?” He asked, his voice calm.“Yeah. With the new job.” Her tone was rough, but a little spark of pride flickered through.“That’s good.”Saoto's gaze wandered the skyline, following the shape of buildings half-lost to the mist before he pushed himself back inside.The floor creaked softly under his socks. He set the mug down on the desk.A sound.Looking back—a sparrow landed on the railing, hopping twice before tilting its head toward him.“...Dad?”He blinked, startled back to himself without letting it show.“What about your birthday, you still want a party?”“Yeah—” She paused, breath catching in the receiver.“...Think Emi could come too?”He took a sip.“If she’s not too busy.” He said.“That’d be nice. I miss her.”Her voice trembled with something unspoken. Saoto’s brows tightened slightly."..."The bird flicked its wings and vanished without a sound.“We’ll see about that.” Saoto said it softly, but it landed heavy anyway.“I’d like to come to her showcase too..”“It’d mean a lot to her, I’m sure.” He kept his voice warm.“I’m sure her piece will be amazing!” Rinrin’s voice peaked bright for a second. Saoto smiled faintly, his gaze drifting back to the fog outside.“I’m sleepy now..” Her words came slower.“You go rest now, I’ll call you another time.”“Okay…I love you dad”“Talk to you soon.”“By-bye”A soft click.The line went quiet.Saoto stood there for a moment longer, gaze lost to the mist, fingers pressed against the mug.It was still warm.
Chapter 26 Block
The room was dim — sketchbook laying open on the desk.Whiteness spilling across the page.Ryuya sat across it for the first time in a while. Face resting in his palm as the shadows stretched around him.
…He blinked once.
Blank.
He blinked twice.
Not blank.
The thought broke apart before it could form.
Oh..
Actually, his hand had just moved without him noticing.
“Haha…”
A tiny breath slipped out, fading into the quiet.The pencil rested in his hand, waiting.A minute passed. Maybe more.He exhaled before he lowered it again.A faint scratch. A muffled sound, half-swallowed before it was gone. The mark bent, slipping sideways.He flipped the page. The sensation of paper between his fingers grounded him. Another line. Another sound.His focus slipped between the lines, escaping.He blinked again, slow. His eyelids felt heavy.The walls looked closer somehow.Inhale, exhale, hard to tell which..His head tilted further, pulling heavy on his neck.The pencil slid from his fingers, landing without a sound."..."The chair creaked..A sound that lingered..He thought he heard Rika’s voice—The words rippled and faded like a pebble dropped in water.Time stretched thin until his lashes met again…Letting time dissolve around him.
Emi stood in front of her canvas, brush hovering.
This is ridiculous.
It stared back at her. Blank. Patient. Like it had all the time in the world. The heater hummed faintly in the corner. The room held its breath with it.Something in her throat stayed tight, like a hand she couldn’t pry off.She turned toward the desk. Her sketchbook opened, pages full of functional little shapes. Studies. Notes. Well thought plans. Proof she’d been trying. Proof that she cared.But as she looked back at the canvas. The shape of nothing pressed hard, squeezing her chest..She came back to it anyway.Her fingers flexed around the brush. Once. Twice. They felt stiff, the weight of futility lingering. Her grip tightened. The brush drifted closer. Close enough to smell the paint.
It won’t matter.
The thought came unannounced, landing too clean. She froze. Not comfort. Not reassurance. Just a simple fact drowned in the quiet. Peace in the wrong place.Her breath caught, small, automatic. Like her body had been bracing for an argument. But her mind stayed clear, steady.Her fingers trembled, pressing her thumb before they unclenched. She set the brush down in the tray. No sound. No pound then turned away.Steps, steps. Her bed met her.She sat carefully like the mattress might protest. It creaked anyway.It’s fine...Another thought. Clear and gentle..It’s not like they’d come anyway...I'm just making it harder for myself..The light outside kept dimming, soft and slow. She watched it fade away. Condensation fogged the window—and still, the air in her room felt freer.Quiet stretched. The canvas stayed where it was.Untouched and unseen.“…”A restlessness pulled at her.She stood.She walked up to the frame. Looked once more.…Then without a thought, lifted the canvas with both hands.She carried it to the closet, careful as if it could bruise.It slid back into the dark. The edge disappeared.A sigh.Her eyes drifted—paintings, ceiling, the corners of the room. Her gaze stopped on the window once again. Her thoughts loosened as she traced the droplets, turning muddy.
Let’s just go with the old one..
Yet clarity came.
Chapter 27 Morning
Sanae slipped on her shoes before standing up."Have a good day!"her mom called from somewhere behind the hallway.Sanae brushed off her skirt."Bye bye!"She replied easily.A breath, then the latch clicked.Cold.A foggy morning again. Houses blurred into each other, their edges fading into the dimness. Still dark, still quiet. Her breath came out in a faint cloud. She started walking.The street felt smaller than it should be, sound stuck to the pavement. The world was still waking up—just enough people, just enough noise.By the time she reached the station, city sounds had fully stirred. Distant honks sounds reaching her. Then the train came, arriving in a lonely, tired screech.She stepped in.The train’s fluorescent lights shone brightly, the kind that burnt a little when you stared for a while. Sanae sat at the end of a bench seat, tucking her bag close.The hum of the train was the only real sound for a while.Showcase’s soon..Her gaze drifted to the window’s reflections, watching the outlines of buildings fade away.The day was still dark. But somewhere in the distance, sunlight started to peep through, just barely. Emi’s piece flashed in her mind — flawless, finished, spotlight-ready.Her fingers curled around the strap of her bag.What about that second one she said she might make?A cough startled her from further down the wagon. She exhaled.Wonder if she’ll bring it today..The train rocked. Her eyes drifted sideways again.The city bleeded past her. Ghostly ribbons of life drifting through.…Ryuya won’t submit anything..A thought that felt a certain way.She sighed.Her gaze stretched outside.
It’s okay……maybe he’ll change his mind…The thought was unconvincing.
The scent of miso lingered, soft and steady.Komaru moved between the counter and the table, a cup of tea in her hands.Rika sat at the table, chopsticks in hand, idly nudging a piece of carrot.“Come on..” Komaru pushed, voice rising in motivation.“mmhhh..” Rika made a protesting sound.“Bunny would eat it wouldn’t he?”Rika frowned but took a bite. Komaru smiled.A door closed down the hall. Its echo lingered just a moment before slipping away. Komaru didn’t turn. Only glanced.“...”Ryuya appeared from the hallway. Bag slung across one shoulder. He didn’t look in, Rika’s gaze shifted from her plate, stayed on him until he turned.“Eat before it gets cold,” Komaru murmured to Rika.Rika nodded, picking her chopsticks back up.Komaru stood slowly. “You’ll be okay, Ryu?” she said, keeping her voice low as she stepped closer.“Yeah.” He answered flatly, his eyes barely lingering anywhere.“I can drive you.” She said hand reaching for her jacket hanging from a hook.“No, I’ll walk. It’s okay.” He answered calmly.A flicker of hesitation—thin and quick. “Alright..” She said anyway. Arm falling back to her side.She followed him in the hallway, watched him lower himself, slipping in his shoes. Rubber whispering against the floor.“Have a good day..” she said, a thin smile curving at her lips.He nodded before rising again.A second more before the latch clicked.
Chapter 28 Steps
Sanae stepped out of the train.The platform was full, the clatter of feet bouncing off the walls.
Someone bumped into her on the way out, they nodded in apology quickly moving on.The street stretched in both directions, people weaving around one another in practiced rhythms."Morning!"A voice called from the side.Hana was waiting near the vending machines just outside the station. Sanae smiled. "Morning." she then waved.Both fell into steps at an easy pace. Sunlight came through the fog, enveloping everything into one same greyness."I had toast but no tea, can you believe that?" Hana said casually."No way." Sanae smiled.“I know right?”They walked side by side. An easy and unassuming rhythm.The building rose into view eventually, gates peering through the haze. Other students spilled in unhurried.
“You’ll be there for the meeting right?” Hana asked a few steps off the entrance.“Huh? Yeah of course!” Sanae answered.
“Good,”“I really don’t want to deal with Emi’s comments today.” Hana added, bitter.Sanae nodded.They passed through the gates along with the other students,
Sanae’s breath settled.
Steps.An endless walk.The morning air stuck to him.Too wet. Too close.Each step pressed it tighter against his skin.The fog hung low over the streets, swaying with each step, like it noticed him. Like it made room. Softening edges. Muting distance.A bike slid by somewhere—the hush of tires, swallowed before it could become a sound. The city hummed—low and constant.
Everything blurred into one pale mesh.A path with no end.His steps carried him forward. Weaving through the mist.The street held its breath. Footsteps that should have been there. Engines that passed without insisting. The kind of quiet that buzzed with things unsaid—costs you paid without noticing.Steps.Steps.More steps.He counted them without meaning to—the numbers slot into place without effort in his mind, a lazy rhythm he could hold on to..His head felt light. As if the world had shifted half a centimeter to the side.The gates waited, dark with moisture—no students bunching up. No voices pooling at the entrance. Just fog beading on metal, and the faint sense that the world had moved on without him.He pushed through. The fluorescent buzz greeted him like always, kept him company in the empty hallway.
He reached his locker.The metal felt colder than it should have. The lock turned with a small click that lingered in the air. The door pulled open.His books were still lined up the way he’d left them—spines flush, corners aligned. The smell of paper and metal sitting there quietly, like it had been waiting for him.His fingers moved without urgency, taking what he needed.
The lock turned again with a small click. The hallway swallowed the sound before giving it back in soft waves—murmurs behind closed doors.His hand brushed the front pocket of his bag, feeling the edge of his sketchbook through the fabric. A simple proof of existence before he moved on.Stairs. Cold and empty. The handrail bit his palm as he rose.
Another hallway glanced at him. Quieter still.Up again.His hallway waited at the top—distant cadence of a teacher leaking through a door. He walked until the classroom door met him, close enough to feel the murmurs vibrate through the walls.He stopped.Voices seeped growing louder. On the other side, time had already started.He breathed once, deeply as his hand approached the handle.“…”
Emi’s face rested in her hand, half-listening.The room kept making its usual noise—pens clicking, whispers dying in pockets.“You know what she said—”“No way…”“I swear you should’ve seen her face..”The murmurs rose and fell around her without weight, high enough that she could hear, low enough to pass as the air.Seconds became minutes, time drifting without shape before something snagged.“...!”A sound or something like it. Emi’s body flipped toward the backdoor. It stayed shut. No click. No hinge. Nothing.“Kamimine.”The teacher’s voice cut through the haze without rising.Emi's head turned to face forward again. A couple students glanced at her. Not long but long enough. Heat climbed to her face, head dipping to her notebook.The lesson continued like nothing had happened.But Emi’s focus stayed angled toward the door.A poke. Something pointy hit her back.“What was that about..?”A voice whispered from behind, too curious. Emi kept her eyes on her paper. Her pencil moved once, then stopped.“I don’t know,” she whispered back.“I just thought I heard someone.”
Chapter 29 Break
By the time lunch break came, nothing felt different.The day simply unfolded.Sanae walked the hallway at an easy pace, musing absent thoughts about her piece.I guess it’s good enough…?The club meeting was coming up soon.It’s okay, it'll be nice to see everyone for once.She smiled at the thought. If nothing else, she could call it a learning experience. Her steps slowed as she approached his classroom.She peeked inside.Yeah.. Figures..A sigh whispered in the quiet.Habit, at this point — checking, hoping, already knowing. Her gaze drifted across the panes without knowing why. Maybe she could grab a drink before Hana started lunch.Her gaze drifted down through the frame of the hallway where a specific figure snagged her attention — blurred at first by the glass. She squinted.The fog outside shifted just enough to make him clear.The shape of the motion jolted her awake.
Sanae rushed down the stairs.She nearly tripped once.Second floor—gone.Another batch of stairs—her shoes hit the ground hard.She turned into the hallway, breath tight, steps too quick.
He was there. At the lockers. Ready to leave.“Ryuya !”He froze. By the time she reached him, she had to slow, hands pressing against her knees.His body turned halfway to face her, hands in his pockets. He looked tired, dulled, not the usual kind either, like the weight of him had been shifted off-center.“Hey.” He said simply.“...Were you leaving?”“Going home.”Quick, clipped. Like the words themselves were enough to turn him away. She hesitated, searching his face.“Are you okay?” She asked tentatively.“Yeah, I just need to get home.”“Oh..”His body shifted, ready to go but something hitched in her chest.“Hey… um—” The words jumped out before she could think.He paused. She swallowed.“We’re doing a prep’ meeting for the showcase..?”His gaze held hers. Something cold slid down her spine.“I was thinking…” The words lagged. Ryuya blinked slowly.“Maybe I could borrow your sketchbook…?”Ryuya blinked once again, before his eyes lowered. His body followed, leaning to unzip his bag. His hand reached into it, unhurried..
“...”And there it was. He handed it over without a word.A flicker of hesitation pulled at her. She reached for it anyway.
Her fingers brushed his as she took it.She held the cover a moment, then looked up.“Thanks..”He nodded as a final gesture before he turned—walking away.
Chapter 30 Pulse
Late afternoon.The art club room was noisy.Voices tangled into each other, overlapped in one single mesh—compliments, questions, laughter bouncing from every direction with her at the center of it..Emi stood, arms crossed, heel tapping, hidden. Everyone had gathered, everyone was doing something. Her eyes moved slowly across the room. The colors were brighter today. Everything was glowing in a way–A staged way.
“—Yeah makes sense..”
Someone said something. She didn’t catch it.They moved on without her. Good.Her gaze drifted toward Kai’s half-done piece.Some hill or slope or vague idea.It was fine. Really, all of them were. But it didn’t comfort her. The room kept buzzing, insistent, sound waves that kept looping back to nothing. A momentum she didn’t share.Something in her hoped she could, but it was bitter. An empty field with no exit.“Emi?”The air stuck in her chest for a breath. She heard her name this time. Her eyes snapped toward the middle of the room. Sanae stood there, her piece on display, smiling nervously.“Come on girl—”Hana chimed in with a joke, something light and forgettable. Sanae’s smile was insistent.“You mind giving it a look?” She asked.A breath lost to herself before she stepped closer. The others moved as she approached. An empty reverence she didn’t ask for.
She settled in front of the canvas.Eyes locked in, sweeping the piece, from top to bottom.Landscape huh..She thought.Muted colors. Soft lighting.“What do you think?” Sanae asked.Don't you get bored?The thought caught in her head, it didn’t sound nice.Time lost its shape.They all felt like a crowd, waiting for her to deliver her line.Always asking for every fucking little thing..“It’s nice.”Her lips parted before she could think.It came out completely wrong.“…”The silence that followed twisted her stomach.Sanae’s lips started moving.“..Is that all?”Emi’s eyes met Sanae’s. Steady. Waiting. She could feel the room watching. Emi kept her face still. It wasn’t easy.“The mood’s coming together nicely.”It sounded fine this time.“I see—” Sanae replied.“Thank you.” She added a beat after.Emi gave a brief nod, just enough to close the conversation, then turned slightly, enough to avoid eye contact.Back to her spot, her eyes swept the room, before it landed on the clock. Minutes passed. Everyone kept going. Glances shot her way, a quiet reminder of the role she was supposed to play.Sanae especially. Down from across the room—she felt her watching. Not in the usual polite way either. Sharper than that.She’d been clutching to her bag, something about the way she held it perplexed her. She reached into it this time.What, were you hiding some secret masterpiece?Emi mused to herself.Her pulse skipped when she saw it—the edge of a familiar cover.
The pharmacy door slid shut behind him.The golden hour pressed against the pavement, turning every edge soft. Sunlight clung to the buildings like it didn’t want to leave — or they didn’t want to let go.Ryuya moved through it slowly. The air was warmer than it should have been, but it felt alright.A child screamed in delight somewhere — Laughter trailed after it, loud and bright fading like an afterthought. His feet kept moving anyway — restlessness feeding his body with the drive to move, leaving everything else in the blur.The world felt calm.…Ha..…Yeah..A fucking lie.He sighed.Laughter again—far, but close enough to bite.He glanced over.A park. A group of kids kicked around a worn-out ball.One tripped.“…”The kid got up and kept running.Of course.Ryuya watched them from afar.His fingers moved along the strap.Inside his bag. Curling around nothing.Right…A small emptiness crept in.…Even when he couldn’t draw. Even when it stayed shut.Having it there… Made it feel like something was still possible.He kept walking. A beat.His body halted — one foot off the curb as the light turned red.The late glow pooled at his feet. His shadow stretched, thin and wrong. His eyes softened. Focus slipped.The hallway. The rooftop. The fog.It all rose together, a soft pulse behind his eyes.The rooftop door clicked.Stairs waited.The bell rang lunch break into the air.Footsteps. Voices. Everything that usually behaved.Everything that usually blurred.Light pouring too bright.Eyes that refused to focus.A building screaming like it wouldn’t let him go.He moved with the crowd, staring at the back of someone’s head.Then the window—the light bit sharp. He blinked harder.Everything sounded off.Everything buzzed.He kept walking. Head low.Stairs…Locker...Sanae...Outside...Gates…Walked out…Looked back…Nobody stopped me.“…”Ryuya’s hand reached the door handle...The key stuck slightly, the metallic sound sharp and present.He jiggled it free. The light on the steps was soft. Almost glowing.He stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him.Silence at last.
Chapter 31 Taste
“Is that Ryuya’s?”Sanae jolted like Hana had poked her ribs, sketchbook hugged to her chest.“...Yeah,” she said. Her grip tightened—small, quick. A flinch you pretend isn’t one. “I thought it could come in handy.”“Hmm…” Hana watched the way Sanae held it. She crossed her arms under her chest. “Creeps me out,” She said, because it did.Sanae blinked. “Really?”Hana lifted a brow. “What? Isn’t that why you like it?”“No.” Sanae smiled faintly. “I just think it’s unique—”“Huh.” Hana breathed out. “Maybe you’re the weird one.”A chair scraped.Hana felt it before she saw it—something in the air dropping. She glanced sideways, Emi was walking toward them, her steps confident like she’d already decided the ending.“Is that ghost’s sketchbook?” Emi asked, flat.“It’s Ryuya’s, yes.” Sanae answered softly, holding it close.“He gave it to you?”“I just borrowed it.” The wobble in Sanae’s voice was small, but it was there.“Can I look?”Emi’s hand was out before the question finished. Hana glanced at Sanae, her arms clenched for a second, then released. She passed it over a bit too fast.Emi flipped it open. Pages turned. Hana let her gaze drift past them. Nao was drawing something in the back with colored pencils, absolutely lost in it..The room kept talking around them, a soft buzz.“…It’s a shame he won’t submit anything for the showcase.” Sanae said, voice embedded in longing.“I guess.” Emi kept flipping the pages without looking up for a while longer until she closed it. Then her eyes lifted—pinning Sanae.“You should bring it back.” She held the sketchbook out.The words hung in the air for a second, it really sounded like a warning. “Just—” She cut herself off, like she didn’t want to sound like she cared.“Make sure it doesn’t vanish again, y’know?”Hana’s mouth tightened. “She’s got it.”Emi glanced at her. Expression neutral.Sanae reached for the book—like she’d remembered she had hands.“Yeah,” Sanae said. “I’ll bring it back when we’re done.”“Good.” Emi let go. Casual. Done.Then she stepped back like nothing happened.And there it is. Emi’s comment of the day.Nothing weird about it. Except the obvious weight she’d left behind. Hana exhaled through her nose. “You good?” She leaned in, voice low—trying to make it normal again.“Yeah, it’s fine.”Sanae's head didn’t lift from the sketchbook. Hana glanced once last time at Emi, her gaze had drifted sideways, stuck on the clock like it had a taste.
The front door clicked shut behind him.Ryuya dropped his bag, the soft thud against the floor barely registered.The house didn’t greet him either, unchanged, hollow.His feet slipped out from his shoes before they carried him to the living room.He grabbed the tv remote, flicked it on without looking at the screen.
The kitchen was next.Fridge.Cereal.Milk.Not a thought lost, not a movement wasted.He sat at the table, letting the TV buzz softly behind him, a layer of static just above his thoughts.The sounds ebbed over him.He paused halfway through the bowl,Just a blink.“...”He picked up the carton checking the date.Still good.“Hmm…”A sigh.“...”Whatever…The bowl went in the trash without a thought.“...”His legs pushed him upright, making way to his room.The light was already on—maybe from this morning, he didn’t remember.He closed the door without a sound.
The blister pack waited on his desk.A flicker.Unstirred curiosity. Ryuya sat on his bed, grabbing the box.He fumbled briefly before pulling out a sheet of paper.He unfolded it quietly, the crunching sound of paper lingering too long.His eyes scanned the block of printed instructions with deliberate intention.Medical gibberish..Curiosity pulled at him until one section rose into view.Potential side-effects :
…dizziness, headaches, agitation..
rare undesirable effects include:loss of appetite,He froze.Very rare effects include altered perception of taste…He stared at the words.Stillness washed over the room again.The distant hum of the fridge brushing past him.The TV kept whispering through the door.His hand didn’t tremble.His face didn’t change.But something hitched in his throat, a dry, short huff barely audible in the quiet.He moved back to the kitchen with the same uncaring pace.Sat again at the table.The fridge buzzed loud, or his ears did.Seconds escaped him.The paper rested in his hands.
His eyes drifted down, absent, the paper stared at him, slightly crumpled.“...”A hitch.Restlessness stirred his fingers–The paper got crushed into a ball.And somehow, that made perfect sense.
Chapter 32 Release
Emi sat, chin in her hand, staring at nothing.The clubroom kept buzzing, low and insistent.Someone laughed at something, faint.Emi’s hand twitched on her lap.Come on..A chair squeaked — she didn’t look.An exhale.Footsteps this time, loud and approaching.The door slid open with a snap.“Emi!” Mina barged in, her voice cutting through the room, bright and unbothered.The quiet went even quieter.Chiyo followed a step behind, dead-pan, eyes scanning everything once.Heads turned—only for a moment. Then the room slipped back into its chatter. The two weaved past the desks and easels to reach her.“Karaoke, sounds gud?”Emi straightened a little. Her eyes flicked across the room. Sanae’s gaze caught hers — brief, unreadable. Emi looked away first. Mina gaze had followed hers.“Boring club stuff, huh?” Mina teased, leaning close.“More like dead club stuff,” Emi muttered, sharper than she meant. Chiyo stared, a step away. Emi stood up. Mina grabbed her arm, hugging it close.She let herself be pulled out of the room.Sanae didn't say anything, no one did.Thank god..
The door slid shut behind them.Emi exhaled, long and tired.“Bro’ You look like you’re about to kick the bucket.” Mina joked again.“I wish.” Emi shot back, exhaling dramatically.“Isn’t it your job to run stuff like this?” Chiyo asked as they kept walking.“They’ll be fine.”Emi’s lips curled, faint, but her eyes stayed elsewhere and the buzz of the club was already gone.“Why do you keep doing this stuff, you’re already art god—” it if it bores you to death” Mina asked lightly.“Kinda have to. The whole looking good for future art schools y’ know?”“The cost of success.”“Shut up.”“What’s with the pigtail chick?”Chiyo asked in a neutral voice.“Huh?”“She was staring holes in you.”“Was she now?”
The clock ticked past the hour.A few voices rose in laughter, Komaru stood before anyone else.“See you tomorrow,” she called, too bright.A colleague waved without looking back. Komaru gathered her things, put on her jacket before she dashed away. The sound of the office faded behind her.She eased down the stairs. The door met her shortly after. She lingered there for no reason, rocking on her heels, then pushed it open.A sigh. Long and half-heard.The afternoon air pressed close — cold and ordinary. Komaru stepped out like she’d just left class. A quiet enthusiasm pulling her steps.The streets were soft with the day’s end, light stretching long across the pavement.She hummed, softly, heading toward her car parked a bit further down the street.No fog for once.She mused.Komaru’s gaze would float by, drifting. Footsteps all around, workers clocking off, kids leaving school, everyone moved with quiet intention. Everyone had something to do, or somewhere to be.She’d felt it once too before the rails snapped into place.Life.An exhale. Too dark, too profound, it wasn’t like her. And she wasn’t sure what she meant. Her eyes darted up, a sign shone brightly, some ramen shop.New one?It had to be, she’d parked the same spot for years now.How long’s it been there..?The thought sat heavy.Maybe I could get something……The question pulled at her until something bumped her shoulder. Someone passing by, they didn’t turn, didn’t apologize.No flare nothing.Her gaze dropped to the keys she’d been holding out for a while.How long she didn’t know.Not today..Maybe next time..Komaru opened the door, sliding in the driver's seat.She checked the mirrors, the lights, herself..The bags under her eyes didn’t lie, she looked away, her fingers found their way into her hair, grabbed the tie, unraveling it loose.Her bangs fell softly on her shoulders. A little exhale.She pulled the keys, shifting into drive, glancing once last time at the neon sign.I’ll get something next time yeah..
Chapter 33 Darkroom
One more click—the lock.Silence.The room’s air settled awkwardly, thicker than it should have been. Emi sighed. Ears still buzzing from karaoke. Too sensitive. The heater hummed, steady. She glanced at the door, before turning back.The room wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t bright either. She moved to the desk, turning on the desk lamp, revealing the faint outlines hanging on the walls. Paintings, each one waiting, watching.She grabbed her sketchbook, turning the light off, letting the frames fade back in the dimness of the room. Her body collapsed onto the bed next.Sketchbook heavy on her chest. She didn’t open it. Didn’t need to. Not yet. Its weight was enough. Simple. Warm.Her head rolled on the pillow, gaze catching on the canvas near the desk. Her throat still tightened a little. Silence coiled around it. Muted paint. Nothing to fear.She let her eyes drift over anyway, following lines she didn’t quite remember making back in the day.Her hand lifted then—it dropped back to her side.…Her eyes kept floating.Heavy and aimless. Painting after painting.Funny how she’d never really stopped to look before, they were just there — like pieces of furniture she’d learn to ignore.Her fingers tucked at the corners of her sketchbook.She could see herself pulling out all of them, brushing away the dust till each one shone like a gem.Maybe using them to make something new…A click.The front door.Heavy footsteps followed.She didn’t move, just listened.The clink of keys hitting the tray..Footsteps growing louder.A pause.Then a knock. Soft like a whisper.
Her fingers clenched at the edges of the sketchbook.“Yeah?”“Got some ramen for dinner.” Saoto’s voice came through, soft.“O..Okay..!” She shot back, staring at the door as if it might open. A beat of silence trailed behind her voice.“…Are you okay?”Saoto’s voice came again through the closed door. Still soft, still far. Her thumb brushed over the corner where the paper had crinkled slightly.“Yeah, I’m coming.”Another pause.“Alright.” He responded with the same softness as before. Silence again. Lighter this time.She heard his footsteps retreat, as if he’d lingered by the door. Emi stared at the sketchbook a while longer. Then, with steady hands, she slid it into her bag.Don’t have to decide right now..The canvas by the desk remained untouched.
“I’ll bring it back when we’re done”I said that but not like I could anyway..“You listening?”“Hm?” Sanae startled to herself. Hana looked at her, her gaze expectant.“Sorry, you were saying?” Sanae asked.“I was just wondering what would make people look.” Hana responded.“If I knew, I’d already be famous,” Sanae said, leaning back like it was a joke. Hana huffed a laugh. It died right away. Her pencil tapped on the desk, a dull beat against the table.“Some people just have that thing I guess.” Hana exhaled heavily, eyes slipping to the empty chair across the room. Sanae followed her gaze, and didn't argue.“Like Emi?”“I mean.. Yeah?”“Yeah..” Sanae muttered. “Kinda impossible to ignore.” It slipped out sharper than she meant. Hana glanced back at her.“So what—you think we just need to be louder?”“No,” Sanae said quickly, shaking her head. “Not louder. Just… Impossible to ignore.”“I don’t know dude..” Hana exhaled.“Don’t quote me, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Sanae smiled. Her eyes shifted toward the cabinet at the back.“Wanna take a peak?” Hana asked out of nowhere.“Huh.. Where’s that coming from?”“I don’t know but you can’t ignore it can you?” Hana smirked.“Err..” Sanae blurted, rolling her eyes.“Haha! Maybe I can learn from it.” Hana chimed in.Sanae didn’t argue, instead she got up. She brought back the sketchbook from the cabinet, setting it down between them. The pages opened. Hana leaned closer. Brow furrowed.A beat.“Yup—” Hana huffed. “Still weird.” She followed.“That’s a good thing,” Sanae argued laughingly, flipping a page.
Hana rubbed her lip with her pencil. “It makes me feel something, but not in a normal way—”“Like.. If I saw this in a museum, I’d think it was from some dead guy that went crazy.”Not wrong.Sanae chuckled.“So what do you actually see in it?” Hana asked, half-mocking.
Sanae’s fingers traced the paper.“Hmm…”“...”“To me, it’s like a door to another world.”Hana blinked. Sanae’s voice didn’t waver. She pointed at a curve.“See this? It’s like a hallway. But looped in on itself. Collapsing.”Hana pointed at a jagged mess.“And this?”“A home. Broken before anyone lived in it.”Hana shook her head.“You come up with this stuff fast..”Sanae smiled, half serious. “Haha. It’s not that deep,”The pages turned for a moment longer. Hana watched until she squinted at one of the pages. “This one looks like a bedroom. Kinda.” Hana leaned back; already reaching for her pencil again.Sanae’s lips parted but no words came.“...”"What…?”
Komaru turned the doorknob, letting Rika in first.She slipped off her shoes by the entrance. She set them neatly beside Ryuya’s pair out of habit — then she straightened.“I’m home,” she called out, more out of routine than anything.“Shhh Rika..”Her voice dissolved into the hallway. No answer. Just the faint hum of the fridge. She carried her bag to the living room and dropped it onto the couch with a soft thump.Behind her, Komaru’s keys clicked onto the kitchen table. Rika’s feet were already carrying her down the hallway.“Rika, don’t—”Too late.She’d reached his door. The crack was already there; it never closed all the way anymore. She pressed her fingers to the frame and peered through.Komaru closed it as quickly.“What did I just say?” Komaru frowned. Hand tight on the handle.“Mom?”“What?” Komaru sighed.“Ryu’s not here.”
Fog.Heavy and close.Swallowing the edges of every block. Every building, lamps, life.Lights glowed past the river.Lights glowed on the river..Fog past the water.Noises past the fog…Halos stretched and broke apart…Cold bit through his socks, but the railing held him—damp metal, beads of water clinging and slipping.His elbows rested there, feet and sleeves wet, gaze past the fog.Below, the water moved, restless and unbothered.Dark ripples, beams of light shining like fireflies.And the sound. The kind of that didn’t need to change.His eyes glanced right. The edge of the blister was sharp in his hand.His last refill.He gazed down at it.The foil glinted faintly, the edges catching the faint lights that peered through the fog.For a while he didn’t move.His thumb moved calmly.It pressed at the foil until a pill slipped free.It rested against his palm. Small and lonely.A beat.It found its way between his fingers.Then, his fingers snapped.The pill flew.“...”The pill dropped without sound, vanishing in the current.“...”No thoughts, no alarm.His arm moved mechanically.Another motion, another press.Another pill that disappeared.Then another.And another.And another…One by one.The ripples below didn’t change.Didn’t care.The anger had left, leaving nothing behind, a still void filled with echoes, regrets that didn’t quite form yet.The river took them without asking why. That’s what mattered. It pulled them into its black surface like nothing had happened.Like it was meaningless.The last pill fell..It stuck to his hand on the way down.The empty pack followed after it.The silver foil glowed one last time before it disappeared.…His fingers trembled..The fog pressed closer. Cold.He didn’t move. Not yet.The streetlight hummed above…His gaze rose. Following the ghostly trail of lights like a constellation. Like it might show him the way.The fog washed over the water, growing closer and closer.Until he finally moved…
© 2026 Djinn — Varnish