Airi had fallen asleep hours ago, retreating quietly to her room, the door softly clicking shut behind her. The apartment grew silent, leaving only the faint hum of electronics and the ticking of the wall clock. Kaito sat alone on the couch, the pale glow of his laptop screen casting deep shadows across his weary face.
His fingers hovered over the keys, unmoving. The webpage he stared at was another dead end, another worthless thread that led nowhere. He'd already combed through dozens of message boards, archives, news articles—anything that might link to that insignia, that man in black, or what had happened to his family. But again, nothing. The cursor blinked at him as if mocking his efforts.
He let out a long, shaky breath, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"I need to find more clues... I can't sleep until I have something," he muttered.
His voice cracked as he spoke to himself, barely audible in the stillness of the room.
There has to be something. There has to be.
He forced himself to take another sip of the lukewarm coffee sitting on the table. It tasted bitter and stale, but he didn't care. The caffeine had long stopped working, replaced by sheer stubbornness. His legs trembled slightly when he tried to shift, muscles tight from sitting for so long.
Kaito glanced at the clock on the wall.
11:21 PM.
Wasn't it just ten-thirty...?
Time had started to feel blurry, like everything beyond the glow of his screen was distant, unreal. The search was fruitless, but the need—that aching, burning need—to understand, to act, to uncover the truth, anchored him there.
His eyelids drooped for just a second.
Maybe... just a minute... just one minute to breathe—
No.
He slapped his cheeks—hard—the echo sharp in the quiet room.
"No. I can't afford to sleep. Not now."
He stood up suddenly, forcing his legs to obey, and stumbled toward the kitchen. He poured another half cup of coffee. His hand trembled as he held the mug. The liquid sloshed slightly. His body was breaking down, rebelling. But his mind refused to let go.
He walked back, slower this time. His joints ached. His vision swam.
He sat down.
And before the cup even reached his lips—
Darkness.
Kaito...
A voice. Soft. Faint. Like wind brushing against a curtain.
Kaito... wake up.
His eyes twitched. He was submerged in warmth, in weightlessness. He didn't want to move. Didn't want to rise. There was no pain here. No searching. No grief. Just...
Peace.
But the voice grew louder. Clearer. More urgent.
Kaito!
His body jerked. The world snapped back into focus as he gasped for breath. The sudden motion made his vision spin, his muscles sore from the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in.
Standing in front of him, framed by the soft glow of the ceiling light, was Airi.
Her hair was a little messy from sleep, her eyes wide with concern. She clutched a blanket in one hand and a phone in the other.
"What happened to you?" she asked, taking a step closer. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
Kaito blinked several times, his brain still catching up. His lips moved before his thoughts did.
"Oh... Airi..." His voice sounded distant, like it came from someone else. "I... I was just..."
He looked down at his laptop. The screen had gone black. His coffee sat untouched, cold. His phone was in his lap, its screen lit with the time.
8:26 PM.
Wait.
What...?
His eyes shot to the wall clock. Same time. 8:26 PM.
"But... it was just 11:21..." he mumbled. "I checked. I remember. I saw it..."
Airi furrowed her brow, kneeling down beside him. "Kaito, it's only eight. You didn't sleep for long—five minutes at most."
Five minutes?
His heart skipped. His stomach twisted.
No... that's not right... It felt like hours... like I slipped into something deeper. Something wasn't right.
He checked his phone again. Still 8:26.
He looked around. The same apartment. The same couch. The coffee. The laptop.
But something was wrong.
The silence felt... heavier.
Airi's hand on his arm broke his thoughts.
"You were so focused," she said gently, "you didn't even realize how tired you were. You've been pushing yourself too hard. I get it, I do... but this isn't the way, Kaito."
He tried to respond. The words wouldn't come. His throat felt dry. His chest tight.
"But..." he finally whispered. "I can't stop. Not until I understand. Not until I figure out what happened to my family. To Sayuri. I need answers, Airi."
His voice cracked again, and this time he didn't hide it.
Airi didn't say anything at first. She simply stared at him with those steady, storm-colored eyes. Eyes that held strength, and fear, and something else—compassion.
"Then you'll find those answers," she said softly. "But not like this. You're burning out. If you collapse, you won't be able to help anyone. Please... give yourself a moment to breathe. Just an hour. I'll be right here."
Kaito swallowed hard.
He wanted to say no. He wanted to argue. But the words died before they could be born.
His body leaned forward instinctively, the tension slowly ebbing from his shoulders. His breathing slowed.
A moment wouldn't hurt, right? Just a moment. One hour.
Airi placed the blanket over his shoulders, her touch warm, grounding.
"I'll wake you in an hour if you want. I promise."
Kaito looked up at her.
A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Okay..." he whispered. "Just an hour..."
His eyes fluttered closed again, this time without resistance.
And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, Kaito allowed himself to rest.
Not for answers.
Not for revenge.
But because someone still cared enough to remind him he was human.