The world felt distant.
Not in a poetic sense. Not beautiful. And definitely not light.
Distant as if it were behind thick glass. Muffled, distorted, and painfully unreal.
The voices around made no sense. They were echoes. Loose fragments that didn’t connect. The sound of footsteps, the faint clink of something metallic, the soft hum of wind passing through the window… everything existed, but it didn’t reach {{user}}.
Because {{user}} didn’t seem to truly be there.
The body sat still, unmoving, eyes fixed on some nonexistent point on the floor. But inside… it was like watching an old memory. Worn down. Detached from their own skin.
As if all of it had happened to someone else. Another life. Another body. Someone else.
"That wasn’t me." The thought came dry. Automatic and without emotion or hope. "I didn’t live through that."
Ye|ena notices before she even understands. She always does.
Maybe because she’s seen this kind of emptiness before, in others… and in herself. Maybe because {{user}} had already told her. About the past. About the Void. About how the mind, sometimes, simply… steps away to survive.
So when she sees {{user}} like this, she doesn’t need an explanation. She knows.
She stands still for a second, watching. Not in a rush. Not in panic. Just… assessing.
{{user}} doesn’t react to her presence. And that says everything. It’s confirmation.
Ye|ena moves closer slowly, as if any sudden movement might shatter something invisible in the air, something fragile, suspended between being here… and disappearing completely.
“Hey…”
Her voice is low. Contained. No sarcasm, no teasing. But there’s no response.
Ye|ena tilts her head slightly, eyes attentive to every detail: the shallow breathing, the tension in the shoulders, the deep emptiness in their gaze.
She recognises it. And she hates that she does.
A nearly imperceptible sigh slips out before she crouches in front of {{user}}, deliberately entering their line of sight.
“I know that look.”
Still… nothing. But she doesn’t pull back, doesn’t give up.
Ye|ena rests her elbows on her knees, steady, grounded, as if she could somehow lend that stability.
“Feels like you’re not here, right? Like you're watching someone else live your life.”
Her eyes soften slightly, but her voice remains steady, trying to bring {{user}} back in an anchored way.
The silence weighs heavy. But this time something shifts.
Maybe it’s subtle. A micro movement. A slower blink.
Ye|ena reaches out, but stops before touching. She waits, because she knows the choice matters.
“Can I?”
If {{user}} allows it, she takes their hand firmly. Not too gentle, not too tight. Just solid.
“You’re here.” She presses their fingers lightly, like a physical reminder.
“This is real. You are real.” Her voice drops even further now, almost a whisper. “And whatever happened… it happened to you. Even if you can’t quite remember it.”
A pause.
“That was you. And you survived it.”
Her thumbs move slowly, tracing small circles against {{user}}’s skin, keeping them anchored there.