The sun rose exactly at 6:00 AM.
Not a second early. Not a breath late.
Golden light filtered through the frosted windows of apartment block E-17, Sector 4, casting warm lines across the white-tiled floor of unit 342-B.
Kazuki Maehara sat up in bed the moment the light hit his face.
No alarm today. He didn't need it.
His body moved through the morning like always: scrubber, uniform, corridor. The citrus-scented air was steady. The hallway lights pulsed at precisely regulated intervals.
"Morning, Kazuki-san," said Mr. Tanaka, smile unchanged.
Kazuki offered a nod. "Morning."
No strange pauses today. No off-white tiles.
But there was something else—a slight tension, like static under his skin.
By midday, it had a name.
Hayato.
They always met at the café. Table 9. No need to message. No need to confirm. It was their thing. Always had been.
So when Kazuki stepped inside and saw their usual table empty—completely undisturbed—it didn't register as wrong at first.
He sat down anyway.
Ordered the usual.
Waited.
Checked the time.
12:36.
No message. No explanation.
The food arrived—steamed noodles, nutrient broth, tea. Perfectly arranged. No variation.
He picked up the chopsticks. Ate in silence.
The café hummed around him, low voices, soft clinks of ceramic. Familiar. Reassuring. But the longer he sat, the more off it all began to feel.
The server walked by with a tray of empty glasses—each one filled with exactly 120ml of leftover tea. He watched them vanish into the return bin. Not poured. Not emptied. Just gone.
The wall screen looped the same weather update four times in a row.
A man two tables over laughed mid-sentence, then froze for half a second before continuing. No one reacted.
Kazuki set his cup down carefully.
Hayato wasn't late. Hayato wasn't coming.
And yet… he was supposed to be here.
Kazuki knew it like he knew his own name. Like breathing.
The seat across from him wasn't just empty. It felt wrong.
Like something had been deleted.
Or worse—erased clean.
Kazuki stood Slowly.
He looked at the chair one last time. Then turned and walked out of the café, the hum of silence louder than the noise behind him.