The dream starts the same way every time.
Blood.
Too much of it.
It's everywhere—on the floor, on the walls, soaking into my shoes like the house itself is bleeding out. The air smells metallic and warm. My stomach twists.
"Ren…"
My mom's voice.
I turn.
She's kneeling. Hands shaking. Pressed against her stomach like she's trying to hold herself together. Like if she lets go, she'll fall apart completely.
"Why didn't you come sooner?" she asks.
Her eyes aren't angry.
That's worse.
"I—I didn't know," I say. Or try to. My mouth moves, but my voice feels stuck somewhere deep in my chest.
Behind her, my dad stands still.
Too still.
His shadow stretches across the floor, wrong and long, like it doesn't belong to him anymore.
"You still have time," he says quietly.
Then his eyes lift.
Straight at me.
"But not much."
Something screams.
Not him.Not my mom.
The world.
—
I wake up gasping.
My room is dark. Quiet. Too quiet.
My heart's pounding so hard it hurts, like it's angry at me for still being alive. My shirt clings to my back, soaked with sweat.
I sit up.
Breathe. In. Out.
It's just a dream.
I glance at my phone.
6:12 AM.
"…Mika?"
My voice cracks.
No answer.
She should be up by now. She's always up early on school days—complaining, dragging her feet, asking if she can skip just this once.
I swing my legs off the bed.
The floor is cold.
"Mika?" I try again, louder this time.
Nothing.
That tight feeling in my chest comes back. Slow. Heavy.
I pull on my jacket and step into the hallway.
Her door is open.
That's not right.
"Mika?" I whisper, already moving faster.
The living room feels wrong. The air is thick. Like it's holding its breath.
Then I see it.
The shape on the floor.
My brain refuses to understand at first. It just… stares. Blank. Distant. Like this is happening to someone else.
"Mika…"
I drop to my knees.
She's not moving.
Her school bag is still by the door. One strap twisted like she dropped it in a hurry. Her eyes are half-open, staring at nothing.
No.
No no no no—
I grab her shoulders. She's cold. Too cold.
"Hey—hey, wake up," I say, shaking her. Harder. "Stop joking. Please."
Nothing.
My hands start shaking.
My chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself.
I scream her name.
The sound doesn't fix anything.
I don't remember how long I stay there. Minutes. Hours. Maybe forever.
At some point, the world just… empties.
I don't cry.
I don't scream anymore.
I just sit there, holding her, while something inside me quietly breaks.
—
Night comes again.
I'm standing on the rooftop.
Wind cuts against my face. The city lights blur together below, messy and alive.
Funny. The world didn't stop.
"Sorry," I whisper. I'm not sure who I'm talking to. Mika. Mom. Dad. Maybe myself.
I take one step forward.
Then—
Pain.
White-hot. Everywhere.
And suddenly—
I'm falling backward.
Not down.
Back.
The wind snaps out of existence.
The lights smear.
The world rewinds like a broken tape—
—
I gasp and sit up.
Dark room.
Cold sweat.
Heart pounding.
My phone vibrates on the bed.
6:12 AM.
My breath stutters.
"…Mika?"
From the other room—
"Ugh, five more minutes!"
I freeze.
My hands are shaking.
Not from fear.
From hope.
Something is very, very wrong.
And somehow—
I'm not too late anymore.