The rain had started sometime after midnight.
Ryo could hear it against the windows, steady rhythm against glass, fifteen floors above empty Tokyo streets. The office was dark except for his monitor and the emergency exit signs casting pale green down the corridor. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. The cleaning crew had come and gone. Now it was just him, the hum of air conditioning, and the rain.
Cold air spilled from the vent above his desk. He'd stopped feeling it around one AM. Stopped feeling much except the ache behind his eyes and the weight in his chest.
When did I last sleep?
The code on his screen blurred. He blinked. The project was due in six hours. Mr. Yoshida had already extended the deadline once.
His phone buzzed.
The screen lit up, casting blue light across scattered papers and empty coffee cups.
[Mom: 1 unread message]
The timestamp said 9:47 PM. It was 2:51 AM now. Five hours ago. Three other messages above it. All from her. He should read them. After the deadline. After—
His chest felt tight.
Not the normal tight. This was different.
The phone rang.
[Mr. Yoshida - Incoming Call]
Ryo remembered Yoshida's smile that afternoon, thin, polite, and empty. "Your family depends on this job, right?"
The sound cut through the silence. Ryo stared at the name. His hand moved toward it, stopped. What would he say?
He let it ring.
Outside, rain intensified. Water streaked down dark windows, refracting distant city lights into broken colors. The call dropped to voicemail.
Mom's message preview was visible:
[Mom: Ryo, I know you're working hard for me and your brother, but please don't—]
The rest was cut off.
His ears rang suddenly.
Sharp. Ryo gasped, hand flying to his chest. The mouse clattered off the desk. His vision fractured. Rain. Lights. Code. Everything breaking apart.
The office tilted.
No, he was tilting. The chair rolled backward and he fell with it, hitting the floor hard. Cold tile against his cheek. Air conditioning humming above.
His left arm had gone numb.
Oh.
This is it.
The ceiling tiles were stained. Water damage. He'd never noticed. Never looked up.
The chest pains. The shortness of breath. The appointment he'd cancelled.
Always something more important.
The floor was so cold.
His phone was on the desk above him. The screen still glowing. Rain was still falling. Somewhere below, a car passed. Headlights swept across the ceiling, then darkness.
[Mom: Ryo, I know you're working hard for me and your brother, but please don't—]
He tried to reach for it. Couldn't move.
I'm sorry.
The pain spread. Down his arm. Up his jaw. His heart hammered against his ribs like something trapped.
The sound felt distant. The rain was louder. Or everything else was just getting quieter.
Yuki's face flashed through his mind. Sixteen. College next year.
His vision darkened. The ceiling disappeared. The rain faded. The city lights went out one by one.
Mom's message was still there. The phone screen glowing like a tiny star.
[...but please don't forget to take care of yourself too.]
I'm so tired.
If there's a next life…
The thought came quiet. A prayer to nothing.
I just want to rest.
The darkness took him.
And then—
Cold.
Stone beneath his palms. Rough. Not tile.
The smell hit next. Wood smoke. Iron.
He opened his eyes.
—
To be continued in CHAPTER TWO