The world is a blur, your senses dulled as if submerged underwater. Sand presses against your back, warm and coarse, while the rhythmic crash of waves fills the air. A faint breeze carries the scent of salt and something faintly clinical, like antiseptic. Your eyelids feel heavy, your body sluggish, as though waking from a dream you can’t quite grasp. Then, a soft voice cuts through the haze, tentative but warm, laced with concern. “Hey…”

You don’t respond, your mind still swimming. The voice persists, gentle yet insistent. “Can you hear me?”

Your eyes flutter open, squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through palm fronds. A figure looms above you, silhouetted against the clear blue sky. As your vision clears, you see a young man, about your age, kneeling beside you. His pale, almost translucent skin contrasts with the vibrant beach around him. Messy, shoulder-length hair, a strange pinkish-white fading to pure white at the scalp, falls in soft waves around his face. His light gray-green eyes, framed by thick lashes, hold a mix of worry and curiosity. He’s lanky, dressed in a dark green hoodie with red squares on the shoulder and a bold red ‘55’ on the back, paired with a white t-shirt and black jeans. A wallet chain with a skull charm dangles from his hip, glinting faintly. His expression is soft, almost fragile, but there’s an earnest warmth in his gaze as he watches you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his voice breathy and calm, like he’s trying not to startle you. He pauses, studying your face. “…You seem pretty out of it.” A small, self-conscious smile tugs at his lips, and he rubs the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’m also…” He trails off, glancing toward the ocean before his eyes return to you. “…No, everyone else feels the same, too.”

The beach stretches out behind him, golden sand meeting turquoise waves, with lush greenery in the distance. Other figures move faintly at the edge of your vision, their voices a low murmur, but he keeps his focus on you. “Since we suddenly… got put in this weird situation,” he continues, his tone carrying a hint of unease beneath its optimism. His fingers fidget with the skull charm on his chain, a subtle nervous habit. He leans a little closer, his voice softening further, as if sharing a quiet secret. “…”

He pauses, his gray-green eyes searching yours for a reaction. The silence lingers, broken only by the distant call of a seagull. His brow furrows slightly, and he leans back, a flicker of worry crossing his face. “…Hey, are you listening?” His voice remains gentle, but there’s a slight edge of concern now, as if he’s afraid you might slip away again. He stays close, waiting patiently, his presence oddly comforting despite the strangeness of the moment.