"Do you have siblings? Friends?" I asked, breaking the silence.
Mizuki's eyes flicked toward me.
She tilted her head slightly. "Not anymore."
I blinked. "Oh."
I waited, unsure if she'd say more. She didn't.
"You don't talk much," I said.
"I talk enough." Her voice was low. "I guess I just don't like wasting words when things already don't make sense."
She lit a cigarette she found in one of the kitchen drawers. The smoke curled slowly in the stillness, too quiet, too clean. .
"Then why did you take me with you?" I asked, before I could stop myself. "I'm still a stranger. You didn't have to help me."
Mizuki looked at me again. This time, her gaze lingered.
"If I left you there, no one would've come." She took a drag from the cigarette. "And maybe I didn't want to be alone anymore either."
I wasn't expecting her to say that.
"You looked like a mess. Reminded me of myself."
Oh?
I glanced at the food she gave me, instant curry in a dented can, slightly warm from the battery-powered cooker.
"No poison, right?" I said, half-laughing.
She didn't smile.
"Don't joke about things like that," she said. "Not now."
I nodded quickly. "Right. Sorry."
I forced a bite down. My hands were shaking.
"I want to go look for my parents," I blurted. "Theyβthey might still be out there. I think they were taken somewhere in the woods. That was before I woke up here."
Mizuki didn't answer. She stood, walked to the door, and paused. Her voice was flat.
"No."
"How old are you?" I asked, trying to make it sound casual.
She didn't look at me. "Twenty."
Only that.
I nodded slowly. "You seem older."
That finally made her glance at me. A tired smile flickered, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"I get that a lot."
I waited, thinking she might say more. She didn't.
The silence pressed in again.
I shifted on the couch. "Sorry, I'm just⦠trying to understand how you're so calm."
"I'm not calm," she said, eyes returning to the trees. "I'm just used to silence."
It didn't sound like she was trying to be dramatic. She meant it. Like someone who had been waiting for this, the collapse, the isolation, the way the world may have stopped working.
"How long were you out there before you found me?" I asked.
She exhaled slowly through her nose. "Long enough to know we're not going back to normal."
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry.
"Mizukiβ¦"
She stood up before I could finish.
"You should eat while there's still light," she said. "The generator won't last forever."
That was it. Conversation over.
She walked toward the hallway without another word, her steps light but steady. She moved like someone trained to disappear.
The room felt colder after she left.
I looked at the food again but didn't pick it up and in that moment, I realized something strange, something that made my chest tighten.
She had never asked me anything.
Not my name. Not where I came from.
It was like she'd already decided none of that mattered.
Because of that, I turned back to the laptop. My fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over the keys. The screen glowed with that same quiet static, the anonymous chat still open, the username blinking like it hadn't moved all this time.
I didn't know who they were.
But I needed to know if it was safe to go out.
The world didn't look like it was ending. There was electricity. Water still ran. I could even hear birds outside. But none of it felt right. The silence was too deep.
I typed slowly.
Can anyone detect my conversation?
It felt paranoid. But then again, everything lately made mefeel like I was the only one asking questions.
The reply came after a few seconds.
πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« πΌβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«π β«.β« π±β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«'β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«
I blinked at the screen.
Monitored by who? I asked. There hasn't even been an announcement. No alerts. Nothing.
This time, the reply was almost immediate.
πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« π β«πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« π½β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ« πΉβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« π½β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«
I stared at the message, my stomach tightening. The words carried a strange kind of certainty. Too casual to be conspiracy. Too fast to be fake.
What do you mean? I typed, my throat dry.
πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«π β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« π³β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« 'β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«'β« π½β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« 'β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«'β« πΈβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« π’β«πβ«πβ«,β« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β«.β« π²β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«
I swallowed hard.
But why wouldn't the government say something? I asked.
I looked at the window. The light outside was flat. Still. No helicopters. No sirens. No movement. Just a quiet Tokyo neighborhood pretending everything was normal.
But it wasn't. I could feel it.
Do you know what it is? I typed. What's happening?
πΈβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«π β« π β«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«.β« π½β«πβ«πβ« πβ«π‘β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β«.β« πΈβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«π β« πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« π°β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β«π β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«ββ«π’β«πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« π β«πβ«π’β« πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β«'β«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« π±β«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«π β«,β« πβ«πβ«'β«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β« πβ«πβ«πβ«π’β« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ« πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«πβ«.β«
The screen seemed to grow colder. My hands stayed on the keys, but I didn't type anything for a while.
I was thinking of my parents of how they were taken, dragged into the woods behind the road like someone was trying to hide them, not rescue them.
And no one ever came looking.
I leaned back slowly, feeling the weight of the room press in.
If this was the start of something, it didn't come with explosions or screams.
It came like fog. Denied by every official channel.
I couldn't stay locked up forever.
The air in the room had gone still, like it was holding its breath.
Outside, the cicadas buzzed in waves, sometimes fading, sometimes swelling, as if someone were turning the sound up and down from another room. The walls of this apartment, unfamiliar and silent, felt like they were growing inward by the hour, closing in with every minute I sat there.
Could I really trust her?
That question had been sitting in my chest all day, like a knot I couldn't loosen. Mizuki had barely said a word when she left this morning. No explanation, no real eye contact, just exit, like it was normal. Like all of this was normal but nothing about this was.
She always seemed to know more than she let on. Not in an obvious way, but in the little details.
I wanted to believe she was just calm under pressure. That she'd seen enough to handle it better than me but a part of me one I kept trying to push away I was starting to wonder if she was just good at pretending.
I turned back to the laptop.
The screen glowed quietly in the corner of the room, the anonymous name still blinking in the chatbox like it had been waiting for me. I stared at it, trying to steady my breathing.
And then a thought hit me.
What if this is connected to her?
The warnings, the messages, the strange timing of it all. What if Mizuki wasn't just helping me? What if she was watching me?
The idea felt paranoid. But lately, everything did. I'd seen too much. Things that made no sense. The government was silent, people were disappearing, and now I was relying on a girl I barely knew, one who seemed to already know how this would unfold.
I wanted to ask her. I wanted to confront her and demand the truth. But what if she wasn't lying? What if pushing too hard made things worse?
I rested my hands on the keyboard, fingers hovering.
No messages yet. Just that blinking name, like a breath held too long.
Maybe I was losing it. Or maybe I was finally seeing things for what they were.