Yoshida

  I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the impact.

  Wind tore across my face as the void swallowed me whole. There was no fear left inside me. The terror had burned itself out long before the fall.

  All that remained was exhaustion.

  A deep, ancient weariness—older than my body.

  I had decided death would be my only refuge.

  I didn’t want to keep living.

  Not after losing him.

  Ryujin.

  My older brother.

  My example.

  The only one who pushed my wheelchair every morning without making me feel like a burden. The only one who spoke about my future as if I truly had one. The only one who smiled even when I couldn’t.

  His name never crossed my mind during the fall.

  Because if he was already gone…

  What was the point?

  The city’s breeze brushed my skin one last time. It smelled like hot concrete and distant gasoline. Like a life I would never touch again.

  And then—

  Something caught me midair.

  My eyes flew open.

  Rose.

  She was holding me tightly as we plummeted together, her hair whipping violently in the wind, her eyes wide with terror—and determination.

  “Yoshida!” she screamed.

  My mind went blank.

  This wasn’t what I wanted.

  I wanted to disappear alone.

  “Rose… why…?”

  She tightened her grip. Her fingers dug into my back as if she feared even the void might tear me away from her.

  And then, in a voice impossibly gentle amidst the chaos, she whispered near my ear—

  “If you’re going to fall… you won’t fall alone.”

  My chest burned.

  Not from fear.

  From guilt.

  I lifted my gaze toward the sun.

  Its light blinded me—but it wasn’t the sun I knew. It wasn’t the distant star I’d watched from my bedroom window. This light was sharper. Brighter. Aware.

  As if it weren’t a star at all—

  But an eye.

  Watching us.

  “Then… we’ll die together…” I heard her murmur.

  Her body slackened slightly.

  The light expanded.

  It swallowed us whole.

  The world vanished.

  For a second, there was no wind.

  No falling.

  No sky.

  Only darkness.

  Absolute void.

  Our bodies floated weightless in nothingness, suspended in a place where sound didn’t exist. I felt no air. No vertigo.

  No chair.

  My mind needed a full second to process what that meant.

  I didn’t feel it.

  I didn’t feel the limit.

  I didn’t feel the sentence.

  “Is this… death?” I asked the silence.

  Even my voice had no echo.

  Then something hurled us.

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  Not a fall—an expulsion.

  As if some unseen force had decided we did not belong in that emptiness and cast us elsewhere.

  Pain struck me like lightning.

  I roared.

  Pressure. Heat. Weight.

  Rose.

  My eyes snapped open.

  We were still falling.

  But the city was gone.

  No buildings.

  No school.

  No asphalt humming beneath my wheels.

  Only dunes.

  Endless dunes stretching like a golden ocean beneath an impossible sky.

  Far in the distance—dark silhouettes. A city I did not recognize.

  The sky was red.

  Not sunset red.

  Wound red.

  As if the heavens themselves were bleeding.

  “Rose! Rose!”

  No response.

  Her body lay completely limp against mine, as if she had already accepted the end.

  Impact was inevitable.

  And for the first time in my life—

  I didn’t want to die.

  I shut my eyes.

  Everything went black.

  I don’t know how much time passed.

  When I woke, pain was the only real thing left.

  But it wasn’t the pain of a fatal fall.

  It was physical. Muscular. Deep.

  The pain of existence.

  The red sky was gone. In its place, a radiant moon bathed the desert in silver light, turning the sand into a frozen sea.

  There was weight on my chest.

  Black hair.

  A sleeping face.

  Rose.

  She was still wearing her school uniform. Her breathing was soft. Her lashes trembled faintly under the moonlight. Her hair spilled across me in dark strands, and for a moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

  She didn’t look like a heroine.

  She didn’t look like someone who had jumped to her death.

  She looked… human.

  Fragile.

  Beautiful in a way that hurt to look at for too long.

  “Ro… se…”

  No response.

  My heart pounded.

  Not from panic.

  From something deeper.

  I tried to lift my hand to brush her hair away from my neck.

  And then—

  It moved.

  Slow.

  Unsteady.

  But it moved.

  I froze.

  I moved my fingers again.

  I felt them.

  I felt the sand slip between them. Felt Rose’s weight on my chest. Felt the real pressure of her body.

  For the first time in my life…

  I felt my body.

  A knot formed in my throat.

  I couldn’t do this before.

  I couldn’t move my fingers without help.

  I couldn’t lift my arms.

  I couldn’t hold anyone.

  And now—

  I was holding her.

  “Can I… move…?”

  My voice broke.

  Not from fear.

  From disbelief.

  I tried to sit up. My muscles trembled like they were waking from a century-long sleep. It hurt. Every fiber burned.

  But it was beautiful pain.

  Because it meant they existed.

  Because it meant I existed.

  All around us—

  Sand.

  Endless dunes beneath an enormous moon.

  With effort, I shifted so Rose lay facing me. Her face was so close I could feel her breath brushing my lips.

  That was when something struck me.

  I had wanted to die.

  But she had chosen to follow me.

  And that terrified me more than the fall.

  That’s when I saw it.

  A few steps behind her, planted firmly in the sand—

  A sword.

  Black.

  Long.

  Slim.

  Elegant in an unsettling way.

  It didn’t reflect the moonlight.

  It devoured it.

  As if it were hungry.

  A chill crawled down my spine.

  That hadn’t been there before.

  Had it?

  Nothing made sense.

  But one thing was clear.

  We weren’t home.

  And this—

  Wasn’t death.

  Hours passed.

  I remained beside Rose in the middle of that vast desert. The wind blew softly. Too softly. I didn’t like it. It was a silence that didn’t belong to the world I knew.

  Rose lay close. I could feel her breathing. The warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her uniform.

  I flexed my fingers again.

  They responded.

  Slow. Awkward. Like they didn’t fully belong to me.

  I tried to bend my wrist.

  It hurt.

  But it hurt because I could feel it.

  Before… that pain didn’t exist.

  My muscles shook when I tried to rise. They didn’t obey the way I wanted. It felt like learning to use a borrowed body.

  I’m alive.

  I’m moving.

  “I don’t understand any of this…” My voice sounded more fragile than I wanted.

  The moon bleached the sand nearly white.

  Everything was silent.

  Too silent.

  Then I heard it.

  A crunch.

  Sand shifting.

  Slow.

  Rhythmic.

  I looked up.

  Two eyes shone in the darkness.

  Not human.

  I knew it before I could think it.

  They moved.

  They drew closer.

  My throat went dry.

  From the shadows, a shape emerged.

  A cat.

  No.

  Something shaped like a cat.

  Huge—wolf-sized. Its dark fur drank in the moonlight. Every step was elegant. Precise. Confident.

  Beautiful.

  And every instinct in me screamed predator.

  It opened its mouth slightly.

  Fangs.

  My heart skipped.

  I’d never seen anything like it.

  Not in documentaries.

  Not in games.

  Not in nightmares.

  It approached without haste. As if it feared nothing. As if it ruled this territory.

  It stopped beside Rose.

  No.

  I tried to move.

  My arm responded too late.

  “N-No…”

  It tilted its head.

  Then gently bit her shoulder.

  Not violently.

  Testing.

  My blood ran cold.

  Then it lowered its head and began licking her feet. Slow. Methodical. As if confirming something.

  “Rose! Wake up!”

  I shook her shoulder as best I could.

  Nothing.

  Why won’t she wake up?

  Why can’t I move faster?

  The creature lifted its head.

  Its eyes were no longer curious.

  They were deep.

  Ancient.

  I’m misunderstanding this.

  I have to be.

  It’s going to bite for real.

  It’s going to pierce her.

  It’s going to—

  Something inside me snapped.

  Not fear.

  Rage.

  A rage born from somewhere dark I hadn’t known existed. Not the helpless frustration of my old life.

  This was different.

  This was wounded dominance.

  My chest burned.

  My blood boiled.

  Something behind my eyes awakened.

  And before I could think—

  I roared.

  “GET AWAY FROM HER!”

  I didn’t recognize my own voice.

  It wasn’t human.

  It wasn’t weak.

  It wasn’t the voice of the boy who fell from a building.

  It was a command.

  The air changed.

  I felt it physically.

  The wind stopped—as if strangled.

  Silence thickened. Heavy. Dense. Almost solid.

  The creature froze.

  Its pupils shrank.

  It lowered its body—

  Not in attack.

  In submission.

  My breathing was erratic.

  I didn’t understand.

  “Leave,” I said, my voice low. Steadier than I felt.

  The cat stepped back.

  One step at a time.

  Never turning its back on me.

  As if standing before something it recognized.

  Something superior.

  Then it meowed.

  Softly.

  Not a threat.

  Acknowledge-ment.

  And it vanished into the dunes.

  The wind returned.

  The world breathed again.

  My heart pounded violently.

  I stared at my hands.

  They trembled.

  These hands—

  Couldn’t hold anything.

  Couldn’t push.

  Couldn’t protect.

  And now—

  A monstrous beast had retreated at a single word.

  “What… was that…?”

  I looked at Rose.

  Still unconscious.

  But her brow was faintly furrowed.

  As if she had felt something.

  As if she had heard me.

  I swallowed.

  I don’t understand.

  I don’t want to understand.

  Because if I do—

  Then this wasn’t an accident.

  I pressed my fingers into the sand.

  I could feel it.

  I’m moving.

  I’m breathing.

  I’m afraid.

  “I don’t understand…” I whispered.

  Far off, the meow echoed again.

  No longer hungry.

  It sounded—

  Respectful.

  And that frightened me more than its fangs.