Izmir blinked at the sky. The morning light stung his eyes. He was lying awkwardly on the park bench, neck twisted in the wrong direction. The dull ache at the back of his head reminded him that he must've fallen asleep sitting up again.
As he stretched and stood, a woman in a white coat came running toward him, panting heavily. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and her eyes were wide with panic.
"You are… you're Izmir Leonard, right?" she gasped, clutching her knees to catch her breath.
Izmir nodded slowly.
"I have news for you," she blurted out, her voice trembling. "Your—your father stabbed himself this morning!"
huh?
"Please," she continued, "go see Dr. Lupin. He'll grant you leave."
Izmir's eyes narrowed slightly. He… committed sucide? Just like that?
He said nothing. Just turned and started running toward the hospital building.
Very well, he thought bitterly, I can finally leave this place.
But another thought followed. Why would he stab himself?
When he reached Dr. Lupin's office, he saw Dr. Hector standing outside, speaking in a low, serious tone. Izmir didn't stop to listen. His mind felt fogged, too full to think.
Dr. Lupin looked up as Izmir entered. "Izmir," he said quietly, sliding a paper across the desk. "Your leave certificate. I'm… sorry for your loss." His eyes flickered with genuine concern.
"I'll drop you home," Dr. Hector offered, stepping forward.
Izmir hesitated. He knew they cared professionally, maybe even personally —but he didn't want their pity. "It's alright," he murmured. "I'll walk."
"No, I insist," Dr. Hector said firmly. "Come. Get in the car."
Izmir sighed. There was no point arguing. He followed him out, climbed into the car, and they drove off in silence.
---
When they reached his house, Izmir froze. The street was overflowing with people. Neighbors, officers, and strangers crowded outside the small, familiar gate. The flashing blue and red lights from the police car painted everyone's faces in harsh colors.
He had never seen his home so crowded before.
"I heard his wife left him years ago," someone whispered nearby. "Poor man must've killed himself out of depression."
Another voice chimed in, "You know their only child was in a mental hospital, right? Maybe the family curse continues."
---
Attending funeral wasnt new for him. Dressed in black, Izmir stood quietly at the corner of the graveyard. The wind was cold, carrying with it the murmurs of grief. People wept, prayed, and whispered condolences he didn't want to hear.
"Are you alright?" came a gentle voice.
He looked up. A woman stood before him, slightly aged but graceful. Her kind eyes softened when she saw his face.
It was Eva, his mother's old friend. He recognized her instantly.
How could he not? His mother used to make excuses about "meeting Eva at Vacations" whenever she secretly visited LUNES WORLD.
"I'm fine," Izmir said faintly. "It's just… too much. My mother's missing, and now my father…" His voice cracked; he sniffed, trying to hold it together.
"It's okay to cry, you know," Eva said softly.
"I just need some time alone," he replied, turning away. His tone was calm — too calm.
As he walked off, his thoughts churned. So much drama…
Now, all he could do was wait. Wait for the crowd to disappear, the noise to fade so he could return to Lunes World.
---
"Hey."
Izmir turned. A middle-aged man stood beside him. He wore a black suit and tie . Too formal, too neat. His face was unfamiliar, but something about his voice rang a bell.
"It's not the right time to ask this," the man said quietly, "but… do you really believe your father killed himself? Or was he… murdered?"
His tone carried a trace of curiosity — or maybe suspicion.
A Detective?, Izmir guessed silently.
"There are cameras in the living room and his office," Izmir replied flatly. "Police already have the footage. You can check it if you want."
The man sighed, as if disappointed by the answer. He studied Izmir again with that same analytical stare.
"You're a college dropout, right?" he asked, and before Izmir could respond, he continued, "We're short on capable people. If you ever feel like doing something useful, call me anytime. Just… not between 12 a.m. and 6 a.m. I'll probably be asleep."
His tone was half-serious, half-sarcastic.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white business card.
Izmir hesitated before taking it. Something about the gesture the offering of a card felt oddly symbolic. For people from LUNES WORLD receiving a card had been very traumatic.
"This is my card," the man said with a faint smile, then turned and walked toward the gate, waving lightly before disappearing into the crowd.
Izmir stared at the card for a moment.
Do I really look too pitiful and miserable now that my parents are gone that the people are asking me to get a job.
He slipped the card into his pocket, exhaled slowly, and looked back toward the grave.