Darkness swallowed me, then a single, blinding light the headlight of a truck barreled toward me. I tried to hold my breath, to hold on, but the world ripped apart.
I woke with a scream pressed into my throat.
A nurse was at my bedside before I could form a sound. "Shh, it's okay. Don't try to sit up." Her voice was calm, practiced. She checked my IV, smoothed the blanket. "Doctor will be here in a minute."
The doctor came in, polite and brisk. He took my vitals, asked some basic questions name, date, what happened and watched my pupils as if reading a book. "You're lucky," he said finally. "No major fractures, no internal bleeding we can see. Concussion symptoms, high stress, dehydration. Rest today. If everything stays stable we'll discharge you. Call me if you get worse. Don't don't overexert yourself."
As soon as he left, the door burst open and my mother was there, breathless, eyes swollen. She dropped into the chair beside my bed and grabbed my hands like she'd been thrown to the floor and found air again.
"Haruto oh my God, you're okay," she sobbed, forehead wet against mine. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Her voice broke into ugly, grateful gasps. "I should've… I should've been there. I know you work so hard, you try to make us proud and I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please."
I stared at her at the woman whose barbs and contempt had haunted my nights and for the first time since the nightmare-screams began, the anger didn't ignite. It just sat there, dull and complicated.
"Mom." My voice was hoarse. "It's okay. Rest. I'm fine."
She refused to be placated. "I called your father," she said, smoothing a hand over my arm. "He finished early. He'll be here as soon as he can. You just sleep."
Sleep came easily after that, a merciful, exhausted slump.
---Time:5:00 AM Monday----
I woke again to sunlight slanting thin and gray across the vinyl mattress. The clock read 5:00 a.m. My head buzzed with fragments the truck, the bloodied me, the whisper of revenge. My first clear thought: why is the truck sequence looping through my mind like a broken record? Is it connected to that man in the hoodie? Is he somehow sending me these visions or am I tearing them out of fate myself?
I forced myself to breathe. Overthinking tangled my muscles into knots. If I let the visions devour me, I'd lose the one thing I could still control: my will. I had to stop spiraling. I had to take control before the future hardened into stone.
---Time:7:00AM---
By seven the door opened and the room filled: Yui, Miyuki, Souta, my homeroom teacher all of them, faces carved between worry and something else I couldn't name. Miyuki held onto Yui's sleeve, insisting on staying, eyes wide and earnest. She didn't look like the woman in my nightmares; she looked young and frightened.
I saw Souta's expression the moment he stepped inside. It was closed, taut, the way someone tightens a fist without moving their hand. He looked at me once, then looked away. I could read the storm on his face like a headline.
"Haruto," my teacher said, voice brittle. Tears glittered at her lashes. "You scared us. You must promise me you'll take it easy. Promise."
I nodded. "I will. Go to school. Don't don't waste the day."
Miyuki's lower lip trembled. "I can I can stay. I want to"
I stopped her with a small, kinder-than-I-felt smile. "Go. I'll be okay. I mean it. Study hard."
Reluctant goodbyes were squeezed out. They left with quick, awkward embraces. Souta didn't say anything. He just gave me a look that might have been apology or might have been a warning I couldn't tell which.
After they left, the room felt hollow again. My father came in not long after, huffing the last of his office into the doorway. He pinched my ear with that old, embarrassed gesture he used when I scraped my knee as a kid.
"I told you to be careful," he muttered, cheeks reddening. "Don't push yourself to breaking."
I let him fuss. Teacher's tears had stained her collar; he noticed and followed my gaze.
"She cried?" he asked quietly, surprised. "She's a good woman, that teacher. She cares."
When the teacher walked back in a few minutes later she'd stayed to speak with my mother I watched them fall into conversation. The words between my mother and my teacher were soft but charged with something like shame and resolve.
"I'm sorry," the teacher said, eyes raw. "I should have noticed something off with Haruto. I thought he was just so stoic. I thought he was handling things. I should have checked in more. I'm sorry for not seeing the signs."
My mother's posture softened, not entirely, but enough. "It's not entirely your fault," she said, voice level, tired. "He hides everything. He thinks worrying us is selfish. But… thank you for caring. If something changes, tell me. Promise me you won't let him carry it alone."
The teacher reached across and squeezed my mother's hand, earnest. "I promise. And if you need someone to come to the school meeting, I'll be there. We can coordinate — keep a closer eye on him. Please let him rest. He's all too willing to work himself to ruin."
My mother's face crumpled once, a real, human thing. "I will," she whispered. "I'll try. I… I want him safe."
They stood together at the window for a long moment, two adults trading worry and plans as if building a small raft to cross whatever storm was coming. I listened, faintly comforted and hollower than the cup in the sink.
After they left to fetch something for lunch, I was alone with the hum of the hospital: the distant paging system, the steady beep of an IV pump, the muffled conversations down the hall. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window and stared at the distorted city outside.
For an instant the reflection in the window wasn't mine. It was older, caked in dried blood, eyes hollow. The future me flickered there the same fractured man who'd clung to me in other dreams and then, like smoke in a light breeze, he vanished.
I rubbed my eyes until the world wavered back into one face: mine.
When I tried to shape a plan, resolve hardened under the haze. I couldn't keep replaying these horrors and waiting for them to explain themselves. I had to act. Gather facts. Protect what I could. Find the man in the hoodie. Find out who ordered that "job." Find out why Miyuki, my mother, Souta everyone kept appearing as instruments of my ruin.