All content in this novel is for fictional and entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental. This story may include emotionally heavy or distressing themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Sleep is just like death.
It swallows you whole and refuses to let go. There's no sound here. No thought. No awareness—just a heavy nothingness pressing down on me. It feels like drowning in an endless ocean.
Cold. Silent. Limitless.
I can't move.
I can't speak.
My eyelids feel sealed shut, like someone stitched them closed.
Somewhere—faint and distant, like a memory spoken underwater—a voice calls my name: "Mio~"
Soft. Familiar. Angelic. Too gentle to be real. Too warm to belong in darkness. Who?
The word leaves my throat like crushed gravel. My voice doesn't sound like mine—more like someone halfway between life and whatever comes after. I try to open my eyes. They barely twitch. My lashes feel heavy, like iron wires dragging me down.
The voice giggles—a light, musical sound that feels like sunshine through stained glass.
"It's me, silly. Don't tell me you've already forgotten. We haven't seen each other for so long…"
Forgotten? The thought pierces the dark like a weak spark. There's something familiar about her—something tucked deep beneath layers of fog and time.
"Am… I asleep?" I ask—or think I ask. It's hard to tell if any sound leaves me.
"And it's good that you are."
Her voice drifts closer—or maybe I'm rising toward it.
"If you hadn't… you'd probably be in the hospital again."
Hospital? Again?
The shadows pulse around me, tightening like a heartbeat. Her tone softens—sad, almost scolding.
"You really need to take better care of yourself, Mio. You look thinner than last time…"
Last time. How many last times have there been? Her words drift away—fading like watercolor left in the rain.
"Wait…" My voice cracks. "What are you saying? I can't… hear you…"
She's telling me something, but it slips away before I can grasp it.
"—rasaki. Shirasaki!"
GASP
My name slams back into me like a chalkboard eraser to the face.
I jerk upright, breath sharp in my throat. My vision blurs before snapping into focus. I clutch my chest, my breathing rising sharply, desperately, like I've surfaced from deep underwater. A cold sweat chills my back.
"Woah! Are you okay?" A face hovers close—too close.
"Huh… Takumi-san."
My voice is weak, breathy—embarrassingly fragile. Takumi's eyes widen, as if he wasn't prepared for an actual dramatic awakening.
"Seriously, Mio," he sighs. "You were out cold. I thought you stopped breathing for a second."
I blink at him, still half caught between dream and waking.
My throat is tight. My hands are trembling before I force them still under the desk.
"…Like you're any human yourself," I mutter.
His forehead wrinkles in offense. "Ugh—excuse me for worrying!"
"Shut up… what time is it anyway?" I grumble, rubbing my eyes.
"Oh wow," he scoffs, moving his hands to his hips. "So now you're just gonna boss me around the second consciousness returns? How unruly."
Before I can answer, a sharp, sugary voice cuts in. "Takumi–kun!"
Great. It's her.
Kanzaki Airi—pink hair clips, overly curled bangs, lip gloss glittering like she's auditioning for an idol group instead of attending homeroom. Her uniform skirt is exactly one centimeter shorter than the school allows. I'm surprised she gets away with it all. Literally, the whole school adores her. Well, the whole school except for me, anyway. I'm no fool.
She sashays over and hooks her arm through Takumi's like he's a prized handbag or something.
"Oh, come on, Takumi-kun," she says with a pout. "Don't hover over her like she's some fragile princess. She can check the time herself."
Her eyes flick toward me. "Right… Shirasaki-chan."
I stare back with a blank expression. I don't get why she hates me. I don't want your prince charming. I barely even know you.
Airi leans closer to Takumi and lowers her voice—still loud enough for half the room to hear. "You're the class rep—not her personal caretaker."
Takumi stiffens as his ears redden. "I wasn't—! I mean—she just looked—Ugh, never mind."
Airi beams triumphantly, tugging him toward the door. "Well, the bell's going to ring soon. Come sit with normal people, okay?"
Takumi glances back awkwardly before disappearing into the chattering room. I simply rest my chin in my palm and stare out the window while the whole class is chatting away in there own stupid fantasies. Cherry blossom petals drift lazily past the glass. Their beautiful but there're only temporary. Just like dreams. Just like memories. Just like people. And no matter how many times I try to remember…that voice follows me. The dream felt sharper than usual this time.
I've had it for as long as I can remember — always the same voice, the same uniform, the same brooch with the carved lily.
Always her. Always just out of reach.