Note: I'm grateful if suspense or supernatural ability fans give this a read, despite its heavy tone and lack of fantasy elements. Be warned: it contains some cruel descriptions. I'll do my best—thank you!
Snow. A pure white world of snow, and I'm in it.
That was my first thought. A snow-laden morning, the chill seeping through the window. It came back to me, vaguely.
Maybe because I just woke up. Or because my body feels frozen stiff.
Gradually, my groggy consciousness sharpened.
The white in my vision came from a harsh overhead light, its artificial coldness glaring. I'm lying on a hard surface, like an operating table. My body feels limp, immobile.
Where… am I? Who… am I?
I trace every memory I can muster.
My name is Miyuki Amamiya. Seventeen. Male. A Tokyo public high school student. Living with my parents in a city house.
A sudden pang stabs my chest. Why? I can't recall. Are my family safe? Where are they?
"You awake?" a voice cuts in from above.
I tilt my gaze, still supine. Only now do I realize I'm in a small room with someone else.
The room is stark, bare save for medical equipment. The air smells of disinfectant, sterile like an operating room. The table I'm on sits at the center. Sensation returns—I'm covered by a thin cloth, an oxygen mask over my face. The heart monitor's beeps echo vividly, though it doesn't feel like mine.
"Miyuki Amamiya. Can you hear me? Got your memories? How far back?" the voice asks again.
I shift my eyes to the man looking down at me. The light's glare obscures his face. He's indistinct, ageless, wearing glasses and a lab coat—a researcher type. His tone is flat, emotionless. Behind him, several similarly expressionless figures in white coats watch.
I don't answer. My head's foggy, and I have no clue who he is. It's not that I can't remember—he's a stranger. Yet he seems to know me well. Undeterred by my silence, he continues.
"This is the Ikaruga Science Research Center. You've been in cold sleep. Remember?"
My body twitches slightly. He takes it as confirmation and goes on.
"You're heading back to Tokyo in a week. Until then, I'll explain this world briefly."
I try to speak, but my jaw, tongue, and throat are rigid. Finally, a hoarse voice escapes. "My family… where are they?"
A strange pause. Then he speaks. "Sorry, but they're not reachable right now. It's been twenty years since you entered cold sleep."
My eyes widen in shock. He continues.
"Everything's changed in twenty years. The world you knew is gone. We'll cover that later. For now, rest and recover today."
Twenty years. It feels unreal, like a week or a century would make no difference. I scan the sparse room for clues, but it's too barren.
What happened to my family? My school, my friends, my comrades?
Then, my consciousness lurches backward, as if pulled.
What… sleep…?
Freshly awake, yet my body screams with fatigue. I fight the sudden wave of drowsiness, but it drags me into darkness.
With a final effort, I roll my eyes toward the man. His mouth seems to twist into a faint smile, shadowed by the light. Maybe my imagination.
His voice fades. "Welcome, Miyuki Amamiya, to this fleeting, cruel world…"
I hear it dimly as my mind slips away.
It's not a voice welcoming a visitor from the past.
It's like a specter's curse, dragging me to hell.