Day 13 - April 13, 2024
Where the Silence Sleeps
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I opened my eyes again.
But this was not waking. Not truly. It felt like slipping beneath the surface of a memory that was never mine, or maybe one I had tried to forget. The air was heavy with stillness, the kind that makes the skin tighten and the heart pause. Nothing moved. Not the wind. Not the clouds. Not even time.
I stood on a highway. Not one I recognized, yet every inch of it pulled at something deep inside me, like a dream I had once wept over and then buried. The world around me was gray, washed of all light, all warmth, as if color itself had abandoned the earth.
No cars passed. No engines cried. There was no breeze to stir the hair at my neck or rustle the collar of my shirt. Silence pressed against me from all directions, thick and absolute, like the air itself had forgotten how to breathe.
The road stretched ahead, endless and empty, disappearing into the murky veil of distance. Vehicles were strewn across the lanes like the broken bones of a giant long since dead. Some were crumpled, others simply left, doors ajar, as if their passengers had stepped out mid-sentence and vanished into the void. Dust clung to their windows, to their mirrors, to their memories. Papers fluttered through the air like dead leaves in a season that no longer changed. Receipts. Notes. A child's drawing. All scattered by a wind that did not exist.
I walked.
And with every step, the silence grew heavier. My shoes made no sound against the pavement. Not even the soft scuff of rubber. It was as if the earth beneath me swallowed every trace of my presence, as if I did not belong. As if I was not meant to be here.
Not a bird in the sky. Not a single insect crawling across the asphalt. Not even the quiet, familiar crackle of something alive hidden in the bushes. All of it gone. The world had forgotten how to make sound. And maybe it had forgotten me too.
Eventually, I reached the town.
I had been here before. I was certain of it. But this time, the vibrant chaos of it was absent. The lights no longer blinked. The signs no longer glowed. The streets, once loud with laughter and argument and the rhythm of passing lives, now stood mute and hollow. Storefronts gaped open like wounds. Bags lay slumped on sidewalks, their contents spilled, abandoned. A single phone lay cracked beneath a bench, its screen dark, as if the last message it held had been swallowed whole.
I walked past restaurants where once I had to shout to be heard over the clatter of dishes and the hum of hungry voices. I passed cafes where steam once kissed the air and smiles passed between strangers. Now, tables were overturned. Chairs untouched. Half-empty cups fossilized in place.
Then I saw it.
The building rose before me, quiet and still, but it had a gravity that pulled at the center of my chest. My company. My dream. The place where everything began. Where I had poured my time, my will, my belief. It stood hollow now, windows dark, its heartbeat silenced.
I stepped inside.
The echoes of memory clung to the walls. I could still see the flash of monitors, hear the hurried strokes of keyboards, the soft laughter of late nights and early mornings. Now, there was nothing. Just the faint scent of something old. Something abandoned. Something left behind.
I moved toward my desk.
My nameplate still sat there, untouched, as if waiting for me to return. Stacks of paper lay undisturbed. My notes. My scribbles. My vision. But the air around it felt wrong, as if something had changed beneath the surface. Something unseen. I reached for one of the sheets but hesitated. There was a weight in the room. A presence that was not mine.
Then I heard it.
A sound. A voice.
Soft. Fragile. Trembling.
"I'm sorry, Haruki."
It came from behind me, and I knew that voice. I knew it like a song I had once fallen asleep to. But when I turned, there was nothing. No one.
Only the silence again.
I froze.
Then another voice followed.
Not hers.
This one deeper. Colder. It scraped along the walls like rusted metal and settled in the bones of the room.
"RUN!."
My heart twisted. My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe.
Then.
Darkness snapped away like a curtain torn down.
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I woke, gasping, drenched in sweat, my breath ragged. Pain bloomed in my chest as if my heart had been squeezed too tightly. My hands trembled. My lips trembled. The room was dim, unfamiliar, too quiet. Was it over? Was it real? Or was it another layer of the same unending dream?
Why does it keep happening?
Why me?
Why now?
My thoughts spun in a fevered storm until something pulled me back... something warm, something gentle.
Arms.
Soft arms curled around my waist, holding me from behind with a tenderness that shattered the fear like glass. There was a scent. Sweet. Familiar. Like home, if home had a soul and a heartbeat.
Airi.
I turned, not fully understanding. My thoughts were a haze, my memory frayed and fragile. But my heart, my heart knew. It remembered something my mind could not reach.
And then I felt it.
A kiss.
Soft.
Placed just behind my shoulder. Lingering.
Not a dream. No. This was real.
She was real.
She pressed closer. I could feel the way her breath slowed as it mingled with mine. Her hand rested against my chest as if trying to still the storm inside me. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Let's go back to sleep."
I closed my eyes.
She lay beside me again, head resting in the crook of my arm, fitting there like she had always belonged. And when she turned to face me, her eyes met mine, quiet and filled with something deeper than words. Her lips came close.
A kiss.
Not to the lips.
To my cheek.
Simple.
Pure.
And yet it undid something in me that I didn't know was still holding on.
If this was a dream, please... never wake me.
The morning light eventually touched the room. I opened my eyes, unsure of when sleep had taken me. I was still there. Still in her bed. Still wrapped in her scent. The same warmth from last night lingered in the sheets, in the air, in my skin.
It had happened.
She had happened.
I remembered the way she had rested her head on my shoulder before. The rain. Her closeness. And after that? A blur. A beautiful, fragile blur I dared not question.
But this.
This was real.
I sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the memory.
But she was not there.
I rose, pulled on my shirt, and stepped quietly into the hallway. The scent of something cooking tugged at me, and as I turned the corner, I found her.
Airi.
In the kitchen. Hair slightly tousled. Wearing a soft blush as she glanced over her shoulder.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
My breath caught. She smiled, eyes lowering quickly, like she was remembering it too.
"Go ahead and sit. Breakfast is almost ready."
We ate together in silence, the kind of silence that doesn't need to be filled. But beneath it, a thousand unspoken thoughts swirled. Questions. Emotions. The weight of yesterday. The weight of last night.
When the plates were empty, we found ourselves back on the couch. The storm from the day before had passed. The sky outside was clear.
I opened my mouth to speak, to ask something, to say anything.
But I felt it again.
The same warmth.
Her head, gently leaning against my shoulder.
I looked at her, but she did not look back.
Her voice came, barely audible.
"Stay. Please… stay for a while. With me, Haruki."
And I did.
god help me, I did.