Somewhere in Japan…
A man sat in his darkened room, motionless. His hollow eyes, sunken deep into his face, reflected the dim glow of his computer screen. The bruises beneath them—dark and clotted—were a testament to countless sleepless nights.
Tears rolled down his pale cheeks, yet his face remained empty, void of life. Around him, chaos reigned. Papers scattered across the floor, crushed cans and empty bottles littering every surface. The thick dust settling over untouched objects made it clear—this wasn't just a messy room. This was the home of someone who had long given up.
His lips trembled. His voice, hoarse and broken, escaped in a whisper.
"I… I lost…"
His body shook as his fingers dug into his scalp, nails pressing hard against his skin.
"Why is this happening to me…?"
Silence.
A silence so suffocating, it swallowed his words whole.
Then—
A sudden cry—raw, desperate, filled with agony.
"HELP ME! I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!"
His voice cracked, bouncing off the walls, lost in the void of his isolation. His fist slammed onto the desk, making the monitor flicker—just for a second, as if responding to his suffering.
Then—
Everything went black.
Saturday – 8:30 AM
(February 4th)
Gasp!
Asahi's eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. Cold sweat clung to his skin, his fingers trembling as they gripped the sheets beneath him.
Sunlight poured through the window, painting the room in soft gold. The faint chirping of birds filled the air.
It was… normal.
Yet, his heart pounded like a war drum.
"What… what was that?"
He sat up, still catching his breath.
It wasn't just a dream.
The emotions—the suffocating despair, the sheer hopelessness—he had felt them as if they were his own.
"That man… that person was… me?"
A sharp buzz pulled him back to reality. His gaze flickered to the bedside table—his alarm clock blinked red.
8:30 AM.
"SHIT! I'M GONNA BE LATE!"
In an instant, the heavy thoughts vanished. He jumped out of bed, frantically searching for his uniform.
"Where the hell are my socks?!" he shouted, shoving aside piles of clothes.
Rushing down the stairs, he yelled again, "Mom! My socks!"
Kitchen – The Usual Morning Chaos
The scent of miso soup and grilled fish drifted through the kitchen, mixing with the warm morning air. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting long golden beams across the wooden floor.
A woman, around forty, stood by the stove, humming softly as she flipped the fish. Brown hair neatly tied back, warm black eyes filled with kindness, an apron wrapped around her waist—it was the perfect image of a classic, caring mother.
"Mom! My socks!" Asahi yelled, stumbling into the room.
Without looking back, his mother casually pointed toward the refrigerator.
"Huh? It's in the fridge."
Asahi stopped dead in his tracks. His brain short-circuited for a moment.
"…What?"
His mom nodded like she had just said the most logical thing in the world. "I put them in the fridge so they stay cool. The weather's hot today."
Silence.
The kind of silence where a man questions everything he knows about life.
"WHY. SOCKS?!" he muttered, completely dead inside.
"Oh! I saw a video where someone said keeping socks in the fridge before wearing them is good for your health!"
A deep chuckle echoed from the dining table.
His father—wearing glasses and a neatly pressed office suit—lowered his newspaper, smirking. "Like always, believing everything you see online."
Asahi groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why is this my family…"
His dad grinned. "Come on, Asahi. You're late."
"SHIT!" Asahi grabbed his ice-cold socks, shoved them on, stuffed breakfast into his mouth, and sprinted out the door.
The Legend of Asahi's Excuses
Asahi slid into the classroom at record speed.
"SENSEI!" he called out dramatically.
His teacher—a young woman in her late twenties—looked up from her desk. She sighed. "Oh boy…"
Asahi straightened his posture, placed a hand on his heart, and locked eyes with her, voice deep, serious.
"Sensei… I helped a grandpa today."
Silence.
"A grandpa?" she raised an eyebrow.
Asahi nodded solemnly. "Yes. He needed a potion. A potion to keep him alive."
A few students stifled laughter.
"I traveled through pain… fought against time itself… and in the end, I delivered that potion to him, ensuring his survival."
"....."
Sensei covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
The class erupted into laughter.
She sighed. "Asahi… can't you at least come up with a good excuse?"
"Damn it," Asahi muttered under his breath. "I should've thought of something better."
Evening – After School
Asahi stretched as he stepped out of the classroom, letting out a long sigh. The weight of the day clung to his shoulders like an invisible chain.
"Finally… it's over."
"Come on, let's walk home together."
Anari stood beside him, arms crossed, her eyes watching him expectantly.
Asahi hesitated, rubbing the back of his head.
"Huh… not today."
Anari blinked. Her smile wavered for a second. "What?! We walk home together every day!" she huffed, brows furrowing.
Asahi barely looked at her, waving a lazy hand as he started walking ahead. "Yeah, yeah… I'm going."
Anari puffed her cheeks, watching him go. She didn't chase after him.
But her voice, quieter than usual, carried through the air.
"Idiot."
On the Way Home
The streets were quiet, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. Asahi walked at a steady pace, hands stuffed into his pockets, his thoughts drifting.
"If I brought her along, she'd just take over my room, touch all my stuff, and act like she owns the place…" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
He exhaled, watching his breath disappear into the cooling air.
"Besides, Dad's coming home early today. If he sees her—"
And just like that, his brain started to do wild imaginations.
(DAD, IN HIS IMAGINATION):"I KNEW IT, SON! YOU'VE INHERITED MY TASTE! A BEAUTIFUL GIRL, JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!"
Asahi groaned, violently shaking his head as if that would physically remove the embarrassing thought.
"God, I really need to stop thinking like this."
Home – Front Door
Reaching his house, Asahi exhaled, rolling his shoulders before unlocking the door.
"I'm home!" he called out casually, stepping inside.
Silence.
He blinked, his grip tightening around the doorknob.
"Huh?"
The house was eerily quiet.
"Mom? Your favorite son has returned from an adventure!" he announced playfully, expecting her usual teasing response.
Nothing.
His smile slowly faded. A strange feeling crept into his chest, his stomach twisting as a sudden heaviness settled over him.
No one's here?
The air felt… off. Heavy. Unsettling.
Home – Kitchen
"Mom?"
Asahi's voice wavered slightly as he stepped toward the kitchen. His heart thumped in his chest, his fingers curling into anxious fists.
"Mom…?"
His foot hesitated at the doorway.
Then—
His breath hitched.
There—collapsed on the cold tile floor—his mother.
A sharp ringing filled his ears. His vision blurred at the edges. His mind refused to process what he was seeing.
"Oi…"
His voice barely escaped his lips, his body frozen in place. A cold sweat broke out on his skin, his throat tightening.
"No way."
His fingers trembled. His chest tightened, his breaths coming out shallow and erratic.
Wait, wait—
His knees hit the ground beside her as he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently. Then desperately.
"Mom, wake up! Mom!!"
No response.
His trembling fingers pressed against her wrist, searching for a pulse—
Nothing.
His stomach twisted violently. The world around him blurred.
"She's… dead?"
A sharp breath left his throat—
"Aaaahh!! NO… NO… NO!!"
His scream shattered the silence. The room, the house—everything felt like it was caving in on him.
"What happened… how… who did this?! No—NO!!"
Then—
A sound.
The front door swung open. Rushed footsteps.
A voice—shaken, desperate.
"What happened—?!"
His father stood at the entrance, his work bag slipping from his grip, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
His eyes landed on his wife.
The color drained from his face.
"No… what happened?!"
He rushed forward, collapsing beside her, hands cradling her face, voice breaking apart.
"Stay with me! Please!!"
Asahi couldn't move. His heart pounded in his ears. His body felt detached, distant, like he was watching the scene from outside himself.
"No… no… what do I do now…?"
The weight of it all pressed down on him, unbearable, suffocating. His chest heaved, his fingers curling uselessly against the cold floor.
His vision blurred. His body swayed.
And before he could even process it—
Everything turned black.
"Hey! Asahi—!"
His father's voice was the last thing he heard before the darkness swallowed him whole.