The alarm buzzed like it had a personal grudge.
Ren Kazehaya groaned and slapped it silent without opening his eyes. He waited five seconds, hoping the world might disappear if he stayed still long enough.
It didn't.
The ceiling was still there—stained, cracked, and unmoving. The fan above creaked like it was dying slowly.
> Another day. Another round of pretending to care.
---
His apartment was the size of a classroom closet. A mattress on the floor. A half-broken table. The same two shirts he wore on rotation hung from a wire near the window.
He pulled on his uniform pants, tucked in a shirt that used to be white, and headed out—no breakfast, no good morning. The fridge was empty. Again.
---
Outside – Arakawa District, Tokyo
The city was already awake. Salarymen rushed past, tied into tight suits and tighter schedules. School kids laughed and kicked cans. A girl zipped past on a skateboard with a cigarette in her mouth and headphones in.
Ren kept his head down and hands in his pockets.
No one noticed him.
He preferred it that way.
---
At the train station, he leaned against a vending machine and watched people flow like water through the gates.
Everyone had somewhere to be.
Everyone had someone to be.
He didn't.
---
Scene: High School – 1st Period
Ren sat at the very back of the classroom, beside the window. The wind pushed against the glass gently. The teacher droned on about historical reforms in Meiji-era Japan.
Ren wasn't listening.
He watched the clouds shift. One looked like a wolf. Another looked like nothing at all.
> I wonder if I just stopped showing up... how long would it take before anyone noticed?
He opened his notebook and began drawing instead—a cracked wall with light leaking through it. He didn't know why.
---
Lunch Break – Rooftop
Ren ate bread and water alone.
The rest of the class gathered in circles—sharing food, gossip, plans. Laughs echoed. Phones flashed.
He sat on the edge, legs dangling, and closed his eyes.
> It's not like I hate people. I just... can't keep up. Everyone's racing forward like they know where they're going.
He looked at his hands. Thin, scarred knuckles. Not from fights—just from working too many odd jobs, trying to keep the lights on.
---
Later – On the Walk Home
The sun dipped behind the rooftops. Tokyo glowed orange and gold.
Ren walked the long way home. Past the park. Past the shuttered arcade. Past the shrine where no one ever goes anymore.
An old woman sweeping the shrine entrance paused and looked at him.
> Old Woman:
"You have tired eyes."
Ren blinked. "...Sorry?"
She smiled faintly. "Nothing to be sorry for. Some people are just born seeing more than others."
Ren didn't reply. He kept walking.
---
That night, lying on his mattress, he stared at the ceiling fan again.
It wasn't spinning anymore.
---
> Sometimes the world feels... too quiet. Like it's holding its breath. Waiting for something.
I don't know what that something is.
But it feels like it's getting closer.