Ayinakoji did not remember falling asleep.
He only remembered keeping his eyes shut.
Holding the blanket.
Waiting for morning.
When he finally opened them, pale light leaked through the curtains.
The room looked normal.
The mirror stood where it always had.
Still.
Silent.
Empty.
He sat up slowly.
Every movement felt careful now.
As if sudden motion might wake something.
His eyes moved to the ceiling.
The crack stretched above him.
Longer.
Or maybe thinner.
He couldn't tell anymore.
"…Twenty-six."
The number came out dry.
He wasn't even sure if it was right.
He got out of bed.
The floor felt colder than yesterday.
In the mirror, his reflection copied him perfectly.
No delay.
No smile.
No movement of its own.
That should have comforted him.
It didn't.
He washed his face.
The water was colder than it should have been.
When he looked up again, droplets still slid down his cheeks.
His reflection's face was already dry.
He stepped back at once.
Then looked again.
Normal.
Wet.
Same as him.
A long silence.
"…I'm imagining things."
He wanted to believe that.
He really did.
In the kitchen, the house was empty.
No parents.
No voices.
No sound of dishes.
Only a plate covered with another plate.
Food left for him.
Cold.
Beside it was another note.
Busy today.
Nothing else.
He stared at the handwriting.
Then sat down and ate in silence.
The food had no taste.
Or maybe he simply could not feel it anymore.
When he left the house, the street seemed emptier than usual.
Windows closed.
Doors shut.
No children outside.
No music from nearby homes.
No laughter.
Only the wall.
And the cat.
It sat in its usual place.
Still as stone.
Watching the road.
Ayinakoji stopped several steps away.
He didn't smile this time.
Didn't greet it.
He simply looked.
The cat turned slowly.
Its eyes met his.
For one frozen second, neither moved.
Then the animal let out a sharp cry.
Not a hiss.
Not a growl.
A cry.
It leapt backward so hard it slipped from the wall, scrambled to its feet, and ran without looking back.
Ayinakoji's throat tightened.
"…Why?"
No answer.
Only the sound of paws fading into distance.
He continued walking.
Faster now.
At school, students gathered in small groups as usual.
But the shape of those groups changed when he approached.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
A step back.
A wider gap.
A sudden excuse to move elsewhere.
No one said anything.
That made it worse.
Inside the classroom, he took his seat by the window.
The room buzzed with low conversation.
Then the student beside him entered, saw him, paused, and chose a different desk.
No explanation.
Ayinakoji looked out the window.
The sky was clear.
Yet everything felt dim.
The teacher arrived late.
Her face looked pale.
She set down her papers with trembling hands.
"…Today we'll be reviewing quietly."
No lecture.
No questions.
No eye contact.
Students obeyed.
Pages turned.
Pens moved.
Whispers rose and died.
Ayinakoji opened his notebook.
The words he had written yesterday looked strange.
Crooked.
Like someone else's handwriting.
He blinked and looked again.
Normal.
His fingers tightened around the pen.
Something brushed his shoe.
He looked down.
A cockroach stood near his foot.
Small.
Dark.
Its antennae moved rapidly.
For a moment, it remained there.
Then it suddenly flipped around and sprinted away at full speed.
Straight into the wall.
It hit the baseboard, turned again, and vanished beneath a cabinet.
Ayinakoji stared.
Even that.
His breathing grew shallow.
A few desks away, a girl noticed where he was looking.
She saw the insect disappear.
Then looked at him.
Then quietly pulled her feet onto her chair.
He lowered his eyes.
At lunch, he didn't go outside.
He remained in the classroom while everyone else left.
Or perhaps they left because he stayed.
He wasn't sure anymore.
He opened his lunch.
Bread.
Fruit.
Water.
Simple.
A crumb fell to the floor.
Without thinking, he bent to pick it up.
Movement under the desk.
A line of ants emerged from a crack in the floor.
They reached the crumb.
Stopped.
Then scattered in every direction.
Not taking it.
Not touching it.
Fleeing.
The room became very quiet.
Ayinakoji remained crouched there, staring at the crumb no creature would claim.
His hand shook once.
Only once.
"…Even pests…"
He couldn't finish.
He stood too quickly, knocking his chair backward.
The sound echoed through the empty room.
He left the lunch untouched.
The hallway felt too narrow.
Too long.
Too bright.
Lights hummed overhead like insects.
He entered the restroom and splashed water on his face.
When he looked into the mirror, his own expression startled him.
No fear.
No anger.
No sadness.
Only blankness.
"…What am I?"
The question slipped out before he could stop it.
A stall door creaked open behind him.
A student stepped out, saw him in the mirror, and froze.
Then hurried past without washing his hands.
The door slammed shut.
Ayinakoji stood alone again.
Classes ended early.
No reason was given.
Students left quickly, carrying a tension none of them could name.
Outside, clouds gathered from nowhere.
Wind rose suddenly.
Papers rolled across the yard.
Branches shook.
Ayinakoji walked through it all.
The gusts seemed to bend around him, never touching his clothes directly.
He stopped.
Watched a loose sheet of paper tumble across the ground.
It reached his shoes.
Then lifted sharply and flew the other way.
His chest hurt.
Not from injury.
From understanding.
The world was avoiding him.
He walked home under a darkening sky.
No one passed him.
No dogs barked.
No birds landed nearby.
Even the insects that usually buzzed near the roadside lamps were absent.
When he reached home, the door was unlocked.
Inside, silence waited.
"…I'm home."
Nothing.
He went to his room and closed the door.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if loud sounds might make things worse.
He sat on the bed.
Hands on knees.
Eyes forward.
The room felt too still.
Then a scratching sound came from the corner.
He turned sharply.
A rat had emerged from behind a box.
Grey.
Thin.
Its nose twitched as it sniffed the air.
Ayinakoji didn't move.
Neither did the rat.
Then the creature's entire body jerked.
It squealed.
Turned violently.
And slammed itself into the wall trying to escape.
Once.
Twice.
Then it found the gap beneath the shelf and vanished.
Ayinakoji's breath caught in his throat.
His eyes slowly lifted to the mirror.
His reflection was already looking at him.
Smiling.
He spun around.
The room was empty.
When he looked back—
The mirror showed only himself.
Wide-eyed.
Still.
He stumbled backward onto the bed.
Hands trembling now.
Finally trembling.
"…I shouldn't exist."
The words came from somewhere deeper than thought.
He covered his face.
The room remained silent.
No comfort.
No denial.
No voice telling him he was wrong.
Only silence.
Because silence agreed.
Night fell completely.
Darkness filled the corners first.
Then the walls.
Then the space inside his chest.
Ayinakoji lay down without changing clothes.
Did not count the crack.
Did not look at the mirror.
Did not speak again.
But just before sleep took him, one final thought drifted through his mind.
Soft.
Terrible.
Certain.
Maybe the world was right to reject me.