🌑 Kazuki Minami — POV
The first thing I noticed after everything ended…
was the silence.
Not the kind of silence that calms you.
The kind that breaks you apart slowly.
Haru was still in my arms when I realized I was shaking.
Not from running.
Not from fear.
But from something heavier.
Something I couldn't name at first.
The street behind us was empty now.
Too empty.
As if the world itself had decided to erase what just happened.
And then I saw her.
For a moment… she was still there.
Standing where she had fallen.
Looking at us.
Smiling faintly.
"…No."
My voice came out broken.
"…No, no—"
The vines moved first.
Slow.
Almost gentle.
Like they were claiming something that already belonged to them.
They wrapped around her body.
Not violently.
Not quickly.
But completely.
"Haru… don't look," I said instantly, pulling him closer.
But he already had.
"Mom…"
His voice cracked.
Small.
Broken.
I wanted to turn him away.
I wanted to shield him from everything.
But I couldn't move.
I couldn't even breathe properly.
The vines lifted her slowly.
As if she weighed nothing.
As if she wasn't human anymore.
And then they carried her back into the broken streets.
Into the overgrown city.
Into the place that no longer belonged to us.
Gone.
Just like that.
My grip tightened around Haru.
Too tight.
He whimpered in pain, but I didn't let go.
Not because I wanted to hurt him—
But because if I did…
I might collapse completely.
"…We have to go," I whispered.
My voice didn't sound like mine.
I forced myself to move.
Step by step.
Back to the car.
Back to the safe zone.
Back to the world that no longer felt safe at all.
🌑 Safe City — Return
The gates opened like nothing had changed.
Like the world outside hadn't died.
Like I hadn't just watched my past disappear in front of me.
Soldiers took Haru inside immediately.
Medical checks. Reports. Protocols.
Everything felt distant.
Unreal.
And I just stood there.
Holding nothing.
Until someone spoke.
"Sir… we recovered your vehicle. You may proceed to your residence."
I nodded.
I don't remember saying anything back.
🌑 Home — That Night
The house was too quiet.
Too clean.
Too normal.
That's what hurt the most.
I walked through the hallway slowly.
Each step heavier than the last.
Until I reached the living room.
And stopped.
There it was.
Her things.
A mug she always used.
A scarf she forgot last winter.
A small hair tie on the table.
Things she left behind like she would come back for them later.
Like she had time.
My hands trembled as I picked up the mug.
Still slightly warm in memory.
"…Why…" I whispered.
My voice broke instantly.
"I told myself…" I swallowed hard.
"…that work was more important."
I placed the mug down carefully.
Like it might shatter if I held it too long.
"I told myself Haru was safe with you…"
My breath hitched.
"…that I didn't need to interfere."
Silence answered me.
I walked into the bedroom.
Her side of the closet was still there.
Half-empty.
Like she had only stepped out for a while.
I sank to my knees.
Slowly.
And for the first time in years—
I broke completely.
"I should've gone with you…"
My voice cracked.
"I should've been there…"
My hands covered my face.
But it didn't stop anything.
Memories came rushing in.
Her laugh.
The way she used to argue with me over small things.
The nights we stayed up talking when we were younger.
Before everything became complicated.
Before distance grew between us.
Before silence replaced love.
We were just teenagers once.
I remembered it clearly now.
Too clearly.
She used to sit beside me on the rooftop of our school.
Eating cheap snacks, talking about nothing important.
She always said:
"You think too much. Just live a little."
And I used to laugh.
Like I had time.
Like life would wait for me.
I didn't realize then…
That time doesn't wait.
My fists tightened.
"I wasted it…" I whispered.
"…I wasted all of it."
A broken laugh escaped me.
But it turned into a sob halfway.
"I loved her…"
My voice shattered.
"…but I didn't protect her."
Silence again.
The house didn't answer.
It never would.
🌑 Haru — POV (13 years old)
The room was too big.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
I sat on my bed, hugging my knees tightly.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
On my desk…
There was my mom gift.
A small keychain.
She gave it to me last birthday.
She said:
"If you ever feel lost, remember I'm still with you."
I held it now.
So tightly it hurt.
"…Mom…"
My voice came out small.
Like I was scared of being heard.
I looked at mom picture beside my bed.
She was smiling.
The same smile she had before everything changed.
"I told you I would come to you…" I whispered.
My eyes burned.
But I didn't want to cry.
I tried not to.
I really did.
Because if I cried…
It felt like she really wouldn't come back.
But it hurt too much.
So I cried anyway.
Quietly.
Into my pillow.
So no one would hear.
"I didn't want you to leave…" I said softly.
"…I was trying to find you…"
I hugged the keychain tighter.
Like it could bring mom back.
Like it could stop the world from changing.
The room felt colder.
I looked at the door.
Half-expecting her to walk in.
To say it was okay.
To tell me she was just late.
But she didn't.
And I finally understood.
She wasn't coming back.
My chest hurt so much I couldn't breathe properly.
"I'm sorry…" I whispered.
"…I should've stayed safe…"
I buried my face into my knees.
And for a long time…
I just cried.
Quiet.
Broken.
Like a kid trying not to disappear inside his own sadness.