The room was silent– too silent.
Only the faint hum of the early dawn wind whispered through Fumiko's room slightly open window, weaving around the stacks of papers, notebooks, and pens scattered across her study table. The soft rustling of curtains in the breeze was barely audible, and somewhere outside, a crow cawed, slicing through the quiet like a sharp blade.
On the table lay the device– a small, cold fragment of something unknown, faintly glowing, and curiously magnetic. It seemed to pulse, almost in time with her heartbeat. Fumiko's fingers hovered over it, trembling slightly, drawn by an invisible force she didn't yet understand.
"There has to be a way to turn you on,"
She whispered to herself. Her voice sounded fragile in the empty room, like a small thread in a vast chasm of silence. Leaning closer, she traced the edges of the device with her fingertips, as if its contours might whisper their secrets if she touched them just right.
Her reflection stared back at her from the dark screen, eyes wide and tired, but alert. She tilted her head, watching herself closely.
"Do I even know what I'm dealing with?"
She muttered.
"What are you? And why me?"
The faint morning light began creeping over the horizon, painting the room in muted amber tones. Dust motes drifted lazily in the rays, swirling around her in tiny golden whirlwinds. Fumiko sighed, brushing her hair aside with one hand while the other still hovered near the device.
"If I try to sleep now… maybe I'll see that glowing figure again, but I'm not sure, it would be a waste of time"
She murmured, recalling the glowing, faceless presence from her dreams. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"… better to keep it with me. Something has to happen eventually."
As the sunlight finally struck the table, the device shimmered faintly. A tiny pulse of light traveled across its surface, like the soft inhalation of breath. Fumiko's lips curved into a small, hesitant smile.
"Maybe… this is a sign,"
She whispered.
"That something's about to begin."
She can feel the rise of a positive and determined energy in her veins.
---
Later that morning, Fumiko met Ami at the bus stop, just as they did every day. The street was alive with the morning chatter of neighbors, the metallic clang of shutters opening, and the distant roar of engines starting. But Fumiko's mind was elsewhere, tracing the device in her pocket, imagining what signals it might send, what secrets it held.
She hesitated for a moment.
Should I tell Ami about the dreams? About the figure? The device? But a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. Ami was practical, grounded– she wouldn't believe something so… unreal.
She'll just think I'm losing it.
Fumiko shook her head, trying to push the thought aside. She barely registered Ami waving her hand in front of her face.
"Earth to Fumi? You're spacing out again."
Fumiko blinked, forcing a laugh.
"Ah– nothing! Sorry, just say dreaming ...hehe.."
"Daydreaming? Come on Fumi, You can do better than that"
Ami said.
Fumiko burst out laughing at how awkward she sounded, and soon both girls were giggling. Their laughter mixed with the cacophony of the city, temporarily pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts.
When the bus arrived, they squeezed into the crowded vehicle, clutching the handrails as it lurched forward. Fumiko's attention, however, kept wandering to the device tucked away in her jacket pocket. It's still quiet. But is it… waiting?
---
School was its usual chaotic self: lockers slamming, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, snippets of conversation overlapping in a low, constant hum. Fumiko walked alongside Ami, trying to focus, but her mind refused to settle.
"Hey Fumi, did you do the math homework?"
Ami's voice snapped her back.
The color drained from Fumiko's face.
"Wait… WHAT homework!?"
Ami's expression flattened.
"You forgot again, didn't you? You're hopeless."
"Oh no– she's gonna kill me!"
Fumiko whispered under her breath. Panic made her words tumble out.
Ami sighed, handing over her notebook.
"Here. Just copy mine before class starts. You owe me."
Fumiko clasped her hands dramatically, bowing slightly.
"You're my savior, Ami! I'll treat you to lunch today!"
"Yeah, yeah,"
Ami chuckled,
"just hurry before the bell– "
The bell rang.
"–Never mind."
By recess, Fumiko had collapsed onto a cafeteria table, letting out a groan as she rested her head against her arms.
"I swear, I almost died this morning. Our teacher's wrath is worse than any monster"
Ami smirked.
"Glad I could save your life, partner. Here, have some of this pastry– they're new."
Fumiko's eyes lit up as she took a bite.
"Oh wow… this is really good. It's like heaven in chocolate form."
"Enjoying something without us?"
Both girls turned to see Rin walking over, Yuki bouncing behind her, a tray piled high with food.
"Wait for us, you gluttons!"
Yuki puffed, sliding into the seat beside them.
"Who you calling a glutton? Look at your plate,"
Rin teased, earning a round of laughter from all of them.
For a moment, the cafeteria felt like a warm, safe bubble. The chaos outside didn't matter. The ordinary world– homework, pastries, teasing friends, was a welcome distraction from the strange, otherworldly pull that had begun creeping into Fumiko's life.
---
That night, Fumiko sat cross-legged on her couch, the mysterious device glowing faintly beside her. It had been a week since she discovered it. Seven nights, seven dreams filled with nothing but darkness and silence. No glowing figure, no voices, nothing.
Yet the device, stubbornly alive in its small, enigmatic way, would beep at random hours. She had tried everything– pressing buttons, tapping the screen, shaking it, even speaking to it softly, but it remained dormant, except for the occasional pulse.
On the television, the evening news droned on. A cheerful reporter rattled off weather forecasts and traffic updates. Behind her, a flicker of shadow danced across the wall– so brief that Fumiko almost convinced herself it was a trick of the light.
Suddenly her pulse quickened as she realised something.
"That's… an Abyss signature,"
She whispered, voice barely audible. She leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the fleeting image. The world around her remained oblivious, cheerful, mundane. The contrast made her skin prickle.
Hours passed. Midnight approached. Fumiko's eyes burned from staring at the device, exhaustion creeping in. Her thoughts spun about dreams she couldn't remember.
Then the device beeped again– louder, more insistent. A red light blinked rapidly at its edge, cutting through the dim room like a warning flare.
She snatched it up.
"Come on… work this time!"
The screen flickered, and then glowing text appeared:
Kawasaki City. Alleyway. Kanagawa Route.
Before she could react further, the device went black. Her heart hammered.
Does that mean… there's an Abyss attack happening there?
She didn't hesitate, without wasting any more time, throwing on her jacket, she stuffed the device into her pocket and bolted into the night.
---
Soon she reached station.
The train rattled through the darkened city, the rhythmic clatter of metal against metal echoing in empty compartments. Fumiko's reflection stared back at her from the window, framed by the dim interior lights. Her eyes burned with determination, tinged with fear.
"I can't fail, I won't."
In Kawasaki, she sprinted down narrow streets, the cold wind biting at her cheeks. Her breath turned to mist, coiling in the pale streetlight. The device beeped again, the glowing red dot marking her path.
The alleyway appeared ahead, shrouded in darkness, littered with debris and broken crates. And then she saw her.
A small girl, no older than ten, pressed against a brick wall. In front of her, a grotesque, shadowy creature crouched, its glowing crimson eyes fixated on the child. Its claws scraped the concrete, leaving faint, sizzling marks where they touched.
Fumiko's chest tightened. Without thinking, she sprinted forward.
The creature lunged.
"NO!"
She dove, grabbing the girl and rolling them both to safety. Her back slammed into the wall, pain flaring sharply along her shoulder. The creature's claws swiped the air above her, missing the girl narrowly.
Blood trickled down Fumiko's arm from a shallow cut caused by the creature's claw. She grit her teeth.
"I'm… stuck… badly but... I have to save this girl."
As the creature stood infront of them, about to strike again on the girl, Fumiko held the girl close to her, protecting the girl with her body as sheild, her eyes shut closed... Then, instinctively, she moved her palm through the air, tracing a symbol she didn't consciously recognize. A burst of pure light erupted, forming a sword of radiance in her hand. Its brilliance cut through the darkness like a beacon.
The sword sliced cleanly through the creature. It screamed, a sound that seemed to ripple through the alley itself, unraveling into smoky fragments before dissolving entirely. Silence fell like a heavy curtain.
Fumiko panted, staring at the vanishing creature.
"I… I did it."
For her surprise, the girl didn't spoke anything, seems like she is in a trauma? Or too scared to speak?
"You're safe now,"
Fumiko whispered, brushing the girl's hair gently.
"Let's get you somewhere safe."
They reached the nearby police station quickly. Officers took the girl, promising to locate her parents. Fumiko nodded, exhausted, and stepped back into the quiet night.
Moonlight bathed the city in silver, the alleyway empty except for faint scorch marks. Fumiko's arm throbbed, her chest heaving.
"…Guess I really do have these powers now," she murmured.
---
Minutes later, footsteps echoed in the same alleyway. A tall man appeared at the entrance, his coat fluttering with the wind. His sharp eyes scanned the scene– no creature, no bodies, just traces of residual power.
"Someone got here before me…" he muttered.
He knelt, touching the ground where faint sparks lingered, a tiny flicker of light reacting to his palm.
The moonlight caught his face, revealing cold, composed features. His eyes, however, carried a heavy sadness, the kind only someone who had seen too much could bear.
He stood, slipping his hands into his pockets, and disappeared into the night, leaving only silence in his wake.