Reflection

The alarm hadn’t gone off yet. But my body still trembled from the lingering echoes of the dream, the images gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. I sat carefully on the edge of the bed, inspecting my trembling hands.

My palms were damp with sweat. I looked down at my feet, pressing them against the floor to feel them. But there was a strange sense of detachment, as if this body didn’t quite belong to me. Everything seemed normal... or so I thought.

But that dream… that feeling… it still echoed somewhere deep inside me. My skin tingled with an eerie numbness, like a phantom touch lingering long after it should have faded.

With an unsettling feeling in my chest, I left my room and made my way to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink, splashing cold water onto my face. Droplets slid down my skin, the sensation grounding me for just a moment. I took a deep breath, straightened up, and looked into the mirror.

My eyes… they looked different.

Deep, tired—but there was something else. Something… off.

Just then, a flash of violet light streaked across my vision. My stomach lurched, a sharp jolt of unease rippling through me. The air suddenly felt charged, heavy with an unseen presence, as if something had shifted in the fabric of reality itself.

It was so quick, so sharp that I instinctively narrowed my eyes. I turned toward the window. Was it just a reflection in the glass? Or… was it something else?

When I looked back at the mirror, my reflection wavered.

My eyes had widened, my gaze distant. My skin flickered like an unstable shadow, distorting as if a ripple had spread through water. For a fleeting moment, my face disappeared entirely—as if I had never existed. When it returned, it was different. Blurred. Unfamiliar.

My nails dug into my palms, yet I felt no pain. I looked at my hands. They, too, were unsteady. Were the tips of my fingers… fading?

I involuntarily held my breath.

Was my body still here? My hands? My feet? I reached out, touched myself. Normal… right?

But what about me?

Am I still dreaming? The thought surfaced in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed them hard. Maybe I was still trapped in the haze of sleep.

"Haru, hurry up! You’re going to be late!"

And a familiar voice sliced through the moment like a blade for every morning.

I jolted back to reality. My hands were pressed against my chest. I looked at myself again, scanning my hands, my feet—normal. Everything was normal.

Wasn’t it?!

I left the bathroom, my bare feet pressing against the cold floor as I hurried back to my room. But that strange sensation—the creeping unease—clung to me like a shadow. As if something had noticed me.

I dressed quickly and went downstairs. I wasn’t in the mood to eat breakfast. My mother looked like she wanted to say something, but when she saw my vacant expression, she hesitated. I grabbed a piece of toast from the table and quietly shut the door behind me as I stepped outside.

The school was within walking distance, and as always, I walked with my friends. But today, something about the air felt different. Or was it just me?

Takeshi, as carefree as ever, nudged me with his elbow. "Haru, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or are you still in shock from Ayaka’s love letter?"

Ryou burst out laughing. "Dude, his life changed overnight! Haru, are you ready to be the main character in a romance story?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let’s drop it."

But of course, they didn’t.

"Come on, Haru, you still haven't answered us! Did you read it or not? What are you gonna say to Ayaka? It’s pretty obvious she likes you," Takeshi said, nudging me with a smirk.

I shrugged. "I don’t know what I’m supposed to say."

Ryou exaggerated a sigh. "Unbelievable! A chance like this doesn’t come to everyone, Haru! What are you doing?!"

Ryou had a point. A weight sat heavily in my chest, as if an unseen hand was gripping my heart. I kept my expression blank, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Shouldn’t a high school student be excited about this?

Shouldn’t my heart race, my palms sweat, my stomach flutter?

But all I felt was an indescribable emptiness.

It wasn’t just about Ayaka’s letter. This was deeper, something more complex. Was it connected to the strange unease I had been feeling lately? I didn’t know. But with each passing moment, the feeling grew stronger.

Takeshi squinted at me. "Dude, you’re acting weird. You’re walking like a robot. Did someone erase your emotions or something? Come on, just admit it—you got transported to another world last night, didn’t you?"

I rolled my eyes. "If I did, trust me, I wouldn’t still be here with you."

Ryou laughed. "Then maybe you have a secret superpower! Like… the ability to not feel love?"

I tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, to shift our focus onto something else, but it was useless…

They continued joking around, but that strange feeling clung to me like damp air, trailing behind me with every step. Just yesterday, hope had started to sprout inside me. But now, it had withered, the leaves curling inward, falling away.

Why?

For a moment, I had believed things could change. But now, that same familiar heaviness was back. The unsettling sensation I had felt in the bathroom seemed to be resurfacing. An invisible tension hung in the air, an unease I couldn’t explain.

Even when we arrived at the school gates, the feeling refused to leave me.

I hurried into the classroom and slumped into my seat, taking a deep breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, but beneath it lurked an uneasy tension, a feeling that something was still out of place.

My body was here, but my mind felt detached, as if part of me had never truly left that dream. The noise of my classmates filled the room, surrounding me in a dull hum. But all I could think was:

Please, don’t talk to me. Just for a few minutes, let me be alone.

From my seat by the window, I looked outside. A low rumble vibrated through the sky, but the storm hadn’t started yet. It was waiting. Watching. Just like whatever had followed me out of that dream.

The sky carried the same heavy, oppressive air that came before a storm. The clouds hung thick and gray, as if they would soon split open and unleash something uncontrollable. And the weight growing inside me… 

it pulsed in sync with the storm looming overhead.