I kicked a loose pebble down the sidewalk, watching it skip over the wet pavement before disappearing into a storm drain. For some reason, the small splash made me feel better, like I’d left a mark, no matter how small.

The sky was the same dull gray it always was, but tonight it felt heavier, swollen with clouds that threatened to burst. My bag sagged on my shoulder, the strap digging into my collarbone. I didn’t care. I didn’t even notice the ache anymore.

Behind me, the muffled chatter of students leaving cram school drifted into the air, voices rising and falling like white noise. None of them were talking to me, of course. I glanced over my shoulder, but no one so much as looked my way.

They never did.

School wasn’t bad, I guess. Not the kind of “bad” you see in dramas, anyway. No one bullied me. No one shoved me into lockers or wrote nasty messages on my desk.

They just… didn’t notice me.

I wasn’t the kid people whispered about. I wasn’t even the kid people asked to borrow notes from. I was the one who existed just outside their circles, on the edge of their worlds, close enough to see but too far to touch.

Today had been no different. Ishida had called out to me earlier, grinning like we were friends. He wasn’t a bad guy, just the type who needed someone to feel bigger than.

“Bombed another quiz?” he’d said, clapping a hand on my shoulder like we were old pals.

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I’d smiled and nodded. Arguing wouldn’t change anything.

It was after seven when I finally stepped out of the school gates. The rain had started as a light drizzle but quickly turned into a steady downpour. I didn’t have an umbrella, so I walked with my head down, letting the rain soak through my shirt.

The streets were almost empty, the faint glow of streetlights reflecting in the puddles below. Every few minutes, a car hissed past, its tires throwing up sprays of water.

I liked the rain. It muffled everything—the sound of the world, the thoughts in my head.

The crosswalk came into view, the signal blinking red. I stopped at the curb and stared at the light, watching the rain trickle down its metal pole.

When it turned green, I stepped onto the road.

The rain pounded harder now, drumming against the pavement. I barely noticed it anymore. My thoughts wandered as I crossed the street, focused on nothing and everything at once.

Then came the sound.

A low hum, rising fast. Tires screeching. A horn blaring through the downpour.

My head jerked up, and my breath caught in my throat.

Headlights. Close. Too close.

I froze. The world seemed to slow, each second dragging like a heavy weight. I saw the car hurtling toward me, water spraying out in its wake. My legs screamed at me to move, but they wouldn’t listen.

In that moment, all I could think was: This is it. This is where it ends.

And then it hit me.

The impact wasn’t sharp or sudden. It was distant, like it wasn’t even happening to me. I felt my body lifted off the ground, weightless for a brief, terrifying moment, before everything went black.

But the blackness wasn’t empty.

It shifted and pulsed, like the surface of a lake rippling under unseen pressure. I couldn’t feel my body anymore, but I felt something else—a presence. It was faint at first, like a whisper on the edge of hearing.

Time bends. Reality twists.

The voice wasn’t a sound. It wasn’t even in my ears. It was everywhere and nowhere, threading through the darkness like a thread through fabric.

Why did you stop moving? Why didn’t you run?

It wasn’t accusing me. It wasn’t cruel. It just… was. A simple question hanging in the void.

I tried to answer, but I couldn’t. My thoughts were thick and sluggish, slipping through my grasp like water.

You don’t belong here yet, it said, softer now. Wake up.

The darkness began to peel away, like curtains drawn back to reveal a stage. I felt myself falling—not forward, but backward, into something cold and endless.

And then, with a jolt, I opened my eyes.