Chapter 1 – Between Pages and Silence… and the Girl in the Void
The last bell rang, and chairs scraped against the floor as students rushed to pack up and leave. Laughter and chatter echoed briefly before fading down the hallway, leaving the classroom in near silence.
I remained in my seat by the window, the golden light of late afternoon spilling across my desk.
Hello… my name is Leon. I'm an orphan.
I don't have anything special to say about myself—nothing worth putting in a grand introduction, at least. But if you insist on knowing…
I was raised in an orphanage until about nine months ago. It closed down because of some corrupt politicians, and just like that, I was thrown out into the world. Now, I live alone in a small apartment. It's nothing special—big enough for me to be comfortable, small enough to keep clean without much effort.
To keep myself afloat, I work part-time at a coffee shop.
I turned a page in the book I was reading, the paper whispering softly under my fingers.
As you can see, I'm still here long after class ended. Most people finish and rush home. I stay behind. Not because I like being alone… but because I've gotten used to it.
I paused, glancing down at the open pages.
As for what I'm reading… well, I'm a little embarrassed to say.
A faint warmth crept into my cheeks.
It's a romance novel.
Why? I guess… it's my way of feeling something I don't have. Of knowing what love feels like—even if it's only in words—because I've never truly experienced it. Not romantic love, not even familial love. Just… emptiness.
I slipped the book into my bag and stood, stretching slightly before heading for the university gates. My reflection in the glass doors looked the same as always—dark hair, tired eyes, an expression caught somewhere between indifference and weariness.
Oh, I almost forgot to mention… I think I turned twenty this July seventh. It's not that I know when exactly I was born but because... The caretaker at the orphanage found me on that date and decided it would be my birthday. And honestly, I'm fine with that. It's the only piece of identity I have, and I'm grateful for it.
The memory brought a small smile to my lips, though my eyes still held that lingering shadow.
By the time I got home, the evening air was cool. My apartment was on the second floor of an old building, owned by a white-haired granny with no relatives. She lived alone, just like me, though she was far better at smiling through it.
Sometimes, she'd invite me to share a simple dinner with her. We'd sit at her small wooden table, the air filled with the smell of miso soup and grilled fish. She'd push the bowl toward me.
"Eat more, Leon."
I'd shake my head with a faint smile. "Nah, Granny. That's enough for me—you eat the rest."
She always fussed, but in the end, she'd laugh softly and let me win.
After dinner, I returned to my room, tossing my bag into the corner. I sat back down with my book, reading until the words began to blur. Eventually, I set it aside, prepared my bedding on the floor, and lay down.
Well… that's enough of an introduction about me. Good night.
---
That night, sleep came easily.
At first, there was only darkness—an endless void stretching in every direction. Silence pressed against my ears, heavy and complete.
Then… she appeared.
A young woman, standing alone in the blackness. She looked about my age, maybe a little younger, but there was something divine in the way she held herself. Her hair, a cascade of soft gold, shimmered under an invisible light. Her eyes were warm, radiant, and seemed to see straight through me, as if they had known me for years. Her skin glowed faintly, almost ethereal, and her white dress rippled gently though there was no wind.
She was beautiful—so beautiful it hurt to look at her for too long, as though the sight alone might burn my heart.
Then the world began to change.
Where there had been nothing, grass unfurled in emerald waves. Trees rose toward a newborn sky, its soft blues streaked with pale sunlight. Flowers bloomed in vibrant bursts of color, releasing scents I could almost smell. A warm breeze brushed my cheek, carrying the sound of rustling leaves. Butterflies drifted lazily, their wings catching the light like tiny shards of stained glass.
Every step I took toward her seemed to breathe more life into this world.
But the closer I got, the heavier my feet felt.
Is it okay… for me to reach her?
I've always been unlucky. Everyone I've cared about has suffered in some way. If I get close… will she suffer too?
I hesitated, doubt curling like a shadow in my chest.
Then… she tilted her head, a strand of golden hair falling across her face, and smiled. Not politely—not distantly—but warmly, as if she was genuinely happy to see me.
Something inside me stirred.
I stepped forward again, hope flickering to life. I wanted to reach her.
But then… a thought hit me.
I was in bed, wasn't I? I'd just eaten with Granny, then gone to sleep.
This was a dream.
The realization hollowed me. My pace slowed. My chest ached. If she wasn't real… what was the point?
I turned away.
Yet some part of me whispered: Just once more. Look back.
I did.
She was staring at me, her expression soft with sadness. Her eyes glistened, and her lips trembled as though holding back words. Then she sank to her knees, tears spilling down her cheeks.
The sight struck me like a blade to the heart. My chest tightened painfully, my breath catching. My legs gave out, and I fell to my knees, my hands pressing into the grass to keep from collapsing completely.
The air grew heavy.
The perfect world around us began to fracture, cracks snaking through the sky and splitting the ground. Chunks of the scene shattered and fell away into the void beyond.
And still, I couldn't move—couldn't take my eyes off her—as the world crumbled into darkness.
---