—20 minutes after class started—
"Ikiryo, can I have a word with you?"
We weren't even thirty minutes into class when the council teacher walked in and called me out.
I had a feeling I knew what this was about...
Walking with him down the hallway to the teacher's room felt like hell.
The silence was suffocating—only the sound of my own thoughts echoing: Was I about to hear that my mother had died?
When we finally arrived, I dropped into a small, worn-out black rolling chair.
"About your mom…"
As we sat in the dimly lit office, my mind escaped. I began analyzing everything in the room—the dreary walls, outdated machines, the piles of ungraded papers, even the exhausted coffee machine wheezing like it was on life support.
But reality hit harder than the décor.
"Is she dead?"I blurted it out. Harsh. I didn't even know why.
The teacher—normally cold, the kind who'd yell like students were criminals—looked... pitiful.
And that pity made me want to puke up last night's half-eaten bowl of cold noodles.
"No... but the hospital called. She's been admitted to intensive care."
I lowered my head. What else was I supposed to do?
I couldn't rewind to this morning, when we were still laughing between her coughing fits.
When I could still feel her cold arms around me.
It hurts.
But what am I doing? I prepared for this moment, didn't I?
Then why can't I even raise my head?
"I can give you a ri—"
"No, thank you. Please don't bother. I'll go alone. I know the way."
I snapped out of it the second he offered. I didn't need his help—or his pity.
I grabbed my bag and rushed out, forgetting to close the door behind me.
Rude. Whatever.
Still running down the hallway, all I could think was: How the hell do I get to the hospital?
It was up on the hill—no bike, no money for a cab.
Fine. I'll use my legs.
Thank god I'd looked like a sprinter since I was twelve—long legs courtesy of my good-for-nothing father.
"IKIRYOOO!"
Only one person yells my name like that.
There she was, waiting by the school gates with her bike.
Her stupidly expensive bike—shinier than the teacher's old coffee machine.
Not surprising when your dad's the mayor.
"What are you daydreaming about? Get on already."
I obeyed. Didn't really have a choice.
The Ride to the Hospital
Even though it was her bike, I took the handlebars.
Yumi stood on the back pegs, her hands gripping my shoulders. The wind was strong—I could feel her brown hair fluttering behind me, her arms tight around my body.
She didn't want to fall.
But she trusted me.
The ride was silent. The sun beamed down, almost smug—like it was mocking me.
No clouds. No birds. Just wind against our faces.
Usually, Yumi would say something dumb, crack a joke—
"IKIRYOOO!"
There it was.
"Why are you yelling again?"
I didn't need to look back. I already knew she was making one of her weird faces.
"I already told you, dummy."
"Even if you told me, I still don't get it."
Liar.
"Hey... Are you scared?"
"Oh, now you want me to think about my mom?"
"Stop. I'm trying to be serious."
"…It would be a lie if I said no, right?"
"Right."
"I knew this moment would come…"
"But hey, cheer up. We don't know her condition yet. Don't talk like she's already gone."
"She's in intensive care, Yumi..."
"Yeah, but still. Hope's all we've got, right?"
She wrapped her arms around my chest.
It was warm.
"Hm."
I didn't have the strength to say more.
Just stared ahead.
Pebbles rolled down the hill, like they'd lost their grip.
Like I was losing mine.
What if she's too tired to keep fighting? What if she just wants peace...?
We reached the hospital.
At the Hospital
We rushed in.
"Room 5B-1. Fifth floor," the nurse said, barely looking up.
The hospital felt like a mausoleum. Yellowed walls. Disinfectant stink. And something else… death.
"It smells like death in here," I muttered.
Yumi smacked me.
"Ow! I'm trying to prepare myself!"
"Don't say stuff like that."
We reached the door. Her name was printed on the plaque: Ana-Rose Bourget.
Yumi opened the door first.
Brave, as always.
The smell hit me—stale sheets and dying flowers.
I ignored Yumi's hand reaching for mine. I rubbed my head instead.
We made it to the bed.
She looked... lifeless. Pale. Bones sharp under her skin.
My fist clenched. Veins pulsing.
Yumi kissed her cheek.
I couldn't move.
"I—"
A knock.
"Ikiryo Bourget?"
"Yes?"
"May I speak with you for a moment?"
The Talk
"As you know, your mother is very ill. She probably has about a week left."
The words hit like bricks.
"…I understand. Is that all?"
"Well… about her treatment—when will the payment be made?"
Right. Money.
I scratched my head. Tongue pressed against my teeth.
"I—"
I bowed, hoping he'd take the hint.
"We need an answer."
"Soon."
"When?"
"I have a job interview in two days. I'll keep you informed."
"Alright. I'll expect an update next week. Sorry again, and... my condolences. I mean—"
"It's fine."
I stayed bowed the whole time.
All I could do to hold myself together.
The Rooftop
After the talk with the doctor, I wandered the hallways until I found the roof.
On the way, I passed the maternity ward—heard babies crying, parents laughing.
Life beginning.
Mine falling apart.
Made it.
The rooftop was quiet. The sun was setting—soft and gold.
But my heart was in pieces.
"Why would you take her away from me?"
The sky didn't answer.
Tears came. My voice cracked.
"Why—"
No more words. Just crying.
My mom is dying.
That's when it hit me.
My life with her.
My life without her.
The pain tore through me like skin peeling open.
But I wiped my face.
Because crying wouldn't change anything.
Back in the Room with My Mom
After the crying rooftop fiasco, I decided to go back to my mom's room.
Sliding the door open, I saw Yumi still sitting beside her. My mom looked so fragile—it was hard to believe she could look even weaker than before. I couldn't stand not touching her anymore. Gently, I leaned my head against her shoulder.
No tears.
I didn't want to make her shiver with my freezing sadness.
She's not dead yet.
I kept repeating that to myself like a broken chant, hoping it would hold the pieces of me together.
Lily looked up at me with those tiny brown eyes—the ones that used to cheer me up when I couldn't. Her hair shimmered faintly in the sunset light streaming through the window, and she'd already shed every tear she had left.
Why is it that some kids are forced to grow up faster?
Why can't I just be a kid like everyone else?
After leaving the hospital, I went straight home.
Yumi was kind enough to walk me to my street, but I told her to go home.
I needed to be alone.
Even after everything this year—everything—I still had my pride. I didn't want to cry in front of her.
I had to be strong.
Walking into my house felt like stepping into a ghost.
The little warmth that was once here… was gone.
Last night's instant noodles still sat in the pot on the stove.
That's dinner, I guess.
I boiled an egg, grabbed my favorite—and only—bowl, poured warm water over the noodles, and sat cross-legged in the dusty living room. The table was covered in a layer of dust.
The result of weeks of neglected cleaning.
I took my wooden chopsticks and started slurping. No lemon, no seasoning, nothing. Just a bowl of now-cold noodles, bland broth and a hollow heart.
I looked over to where Mom used to sit, imagining her serving me her famous four-spice chicken with colored rice — the kind of meal she'd cook with love after long hours waitressing. God, I missed it.
Missed her.
Eventually, I crawled into bed. The cold crept in like a stray cat I never invited. My eyes stayed open.
Staring at the cracked window frame, listening to nothing.
Sleep never came.
The day after, The Museum Field Trip
ZZZZzzzZZZ
Ugh. I was already half-dead from that stupid bus ride, and now my vision was smeared with eye boogers.
Why do we even have to go on a school trip on a Saturday?
"Alright, everyone, let's do this again! Are you ready for today's field trip?"
Our teacher's overly cheerful voice sliced through the silence.
"Isn't this exciting?"
Dead silence. Not even the birds dared chirp.
Eventually, we were herded into the museum. Thirty minutes of instructions later, we were finally allowed to breathe again.
"Hey Ikiryo, you look like a zombie with all that crust in your eyes."
I scratched my head. Yumi had been sharp-eyed since we were seven.
"Talk for yourself, you didn't even comb your hair."
"Oof. Rude. But fair."
She stepped closer—too close.
I could smell her light floral perfume.
She plucked the boogers from my eyes without flinching.
Didn't even hurt.
"Want an orange?" she asked, like she was offering treasure.
"You know I hate oranges."
"Are you sure? Last time you said you liked them."
"No, I said mandarins. Easy to peel."
She just smiled.
Girls…
We entered the museum's grand hallway.
This was the largest museum on Kyrenos, our Southern Hemisphere island.
"Woooah Ikiryo, look how big it is!"
It really was bigger than our whole school.
Then came the dreaded group assignments.
Of course, I was paired with Yumi.
I actually think this isn't a bad field trip choice.But if I'm being honest… if it weren't for this school trip, I'd never have been able to afford to come here.
And just like that, reality hit me again.
The thought crept in, unwelcome, the way it always did—Mom's condition.Her only having one week to live.The hospital bills.Why am I even here, trying to have fun, while she's lying there... alone?
No matter where I went, my mind always found its way back to those worries.
Her tired face flashed through my head again, and the weight of it all settled on my shoulders.
Even here—surrounded by strange old artifacts, the buzz of classmates' laughter, Yumi's presence—I couldn't escape it.I never could.
We wandered into a quieter wing, away from the others. The deeper we went, the heavier the air felt—like something unseen was breathing just behind my shoulder. Each step echoed too loud, like we were intruding. Even the lights seemed dimmer here, flickering slightly, as if unsure whether to stay on.
Then, my eyes landed on something odd.A door, slightly ajar, at the end of the dim hallway.Unlike the rest of the brightly lit museum, the room beyond was steeped in shadows.
A single word was written on the wall beside the entrance:
"Ancient Taxidermy Exposition."
"Yumi, come with me. This way."
She followed.
As we stepped into the exhibit, it was mostly rows of ancient animal heads—mounted, preserved, and staring blankly—stretching out before us.
Their dull glass eyes reflected the low light—watching, waiting.
And for the first time that day, a real chill crept down my spine.
"Ikiryo… look at all these statues. Do you even know what kind of animals these are? I've never seen anything like them before."She paused. "That's it. I think I want to become vegan now."
"Hmm… yeah. I've never seen creatures like these either."
We stared at them in silence. Creatures half-beast, half-myth.Some with too many limbs. Others with none at all.Fangs, feathers, horns—things that didn't belong together but somehow existed.
"I guess they would've been happier out in the wild than dead here," I murmured.
We kept walking down the line of displays.
With each step, the air thickened.Heavier. Denser.
And then, we heard it.
A breath.
A whisper.
We froze.
"Did you feel that?" I asked.
"Heck yes. What was that?"
"How should I know?"
Still, we moved deeper.
The deeper we went, the louder that strange feeling became.That something was off.That something... was waiting.
The Creature.
I didn't even realize my feet had stopped.
I stood in front of it.
The head was massive—towering. A mix of deer and something else. Angular. Predatory.
Black stripes marked its face like claw wounds. Its twisted antlers clawed at the air.
But it was the eyes that stopped me.
Deep. Blacker than black.
Like if I stared long enough, I'd fall in and never come back.
Yumi whispered beside me.
"What is that…?"
I couldn't answer.
Its fur looked like time had chewed it up and spit it out. Yet… those eyes were still alive. Watching. Waiting.
And suddenly, everything else—Yumi's breath, the museum lights, my thoughts—blurred.
Only the eyes remained.
And then—
A sound.
Low.
A growl?
A voice?
Calling my name.