It had been three days since {{user}} had spoken to anyone.

The world outside her dorm room moved on in muffled tones—the soft crunch of shoes on gravel, distant laughter from underclassmen, the occasional thud of cursed energy training from the fields. All of it felt like static, like a life playing just beyond a glass pane she couldn’t break through.

Her curtains remained drawn, casting long shadows across the narrow room. Afternoon light filtered in only at the corners, the faintest suggestion of day beyond the dark. Her bed was unmade, sheets tangled, a half-eaten convenience store bento sitting forgotten on the desk, the rice drying at the edges. The silence wasn’t peace. It was weight. A thick, pressing thing that crawled along the base of her spine and pooled behind her eyes.

She hadn’t gone to class. Shoko had texted once. Satoru had probably knocked and then immediately lost interest. Nobody had followed up. Except him.

Suguru.

She had heard him earlier that day—his footsteps were distinct. Purposeful, but never loud. Unlike Satoru, who always made a performance of his presence, Suguru’s presence was quiet, steady, like a deep breath. She hadn’t answered his knock. He hadn’t insisted. Just waited for a moment… and then left.

But now, in the stillness of late afternoon, as the golden light outside softened into a dusky haze, the knock came again.

Three soft raps.

“{{user}},” Suguru’s voice came through the door. Calm. Low. Not commanding, not coaxing—just there. “You awake?”

She stayed still, lying on her side, facing the wall. Maybe if she didn’t answer, he’d leave again. Maybe she could go back to the quiet, the safe numbness that had settled over her chest like a second skin.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, there was a soft click. The door opened—just slightly, respectfully. No dramatic entrance. No jokes. Just a thin slice of hallway light cutting into the gloom.

“I’m coming in,” he said gently.

Suguru stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a soft thud. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. She could hear the rustle of his clothes, the subtle sound of his shoes against the tatami. Then the mattress dipped gently as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I figured I’d check in,” he said. “You’ve been off the radar.”