The clock had just crossed ten when Arashi finally stepped through the front door. The house was quiet — the kind of quiet that only settles in when the day has thoroughly wrung you out. He didn't stop anywhere, didn't pour himself a glass of water, didn't even bother with the lights. He went straight to his room, and let himself fall onto the bed.
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then, without meaning to, his mind drifted back.
The whole day replayed itself slowly — every moment, every word, every small thing that had happened. He turned it all over in his head the way you do when a day actually means something. And somewhere in the middle of all that quiet thinking, exhaustion crept in softly and pulled his eyes shut.
He was standing on a beach.
The sun was low on the horizon, bleeding orange and gold across a sky that looked almost too beautiful to be real. A warm breeze moved through the air — gentle, unhurried — carrying with it the faint salt of the sea. Small waves rolled in lazily and brushed over his feet, cool water drawing back into the tide before returning again.
It took only a second for him to understand.
A dream.
He was dreaming. And somehow, he already knew who had called him here.
"Mizuki."
Her name left his lips before he even thought to say it. He turned, scanning the stretch of shore, and then he heard her — her voice coming from a little way down the beach, unhurried and warm.
"Wait — I'm coming."
So, he did. He sat down where he was, waves still curling around his feet, and he waited. The sky above him deepened its colors. The horizon glowed.
And then, after a little while, the soft sound of footsteps in the sand.
Mizuki settled beside him — close enough that the space between them felt like nothing at all. For a moment neither of them said anything, as if the beach itself didn't need filling with words. Then she leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder, and let out a quiet breath.
"I had so much fun today, Arashi." A small pause. "Thank you."
"No problem," he said, and he meant it simply.
He looked out at the water for a moment.
"You know," he said, "it's been a while since we've met like this. In a dream."
Mizuki was quiet for a second, then nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah. It really has."
The waves moved. The light shifted.
Then Arashi turned his head slightly toward her, his voice dropping — not softer exactly, just more careful.
"Mizuki… you're going to be okay. You know that, right?" A beat. "Because I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
She didn't answer right away. The sea filled the silence for her.
And then, gently — "I know."
Her voice was steady. Certain in the way that only comes from actually believing something.
"As long as you're with me," she continued, "nothing can touch me."
Arashi didn't say anything after that.
He just smiled — quiet and small, the kind that doesn't need an audience — and looked back out at the horizon where the sun was still setting, endlessly and unhurried, the way it only ever does in dreams.
Mizuki lifted her head from his shoulder, just slightly, and glanced at him with something quiet flickering behind her eyes.
"Arashi… once I get better, there are things I want to tell you."
He turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"
A smile appeared on her lips.
"It's a secret," she said simply. "You'll have to wait."
Arashi let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Aww man. Now you've gone and made me curious. What am I supposed to do with that?"
Mizuki's smile widened just a little. "Simply wait."
He shook his head, but he was smiling too — and he let it go. There was something about the way she said it that made waiting feel less like a burden and more like something to look forward to. So, he did what she said. He let it rest.
They sat like that for a while longer — side by side on the sand, the sky still glowing, the waves still rolling in their quiet rhythm. No need to fill it with anything. Just the two of them and the sound of the sea and whatever unspoken thing was sitting warmly between them.
It was the kind of moment that felt like it could last.
And then it didn't.
One second, she was there, and the next — she wasn't. No warning. No goodbye. Just an absence where she had been, sudden and complete, as if the dream itself had reached in and taken her.
And then the dream broke too.
Arashi's eyes opened to the dark of his room.
He lay still for a second, blinking at the ceiling, the warmth of the beach already fading at the edges. He turned his head toward the window. The sky outside was the deep, heavy blue of very early morning.
04:23 AM.
He sat up slowly, the unease already spreading through his chest before he'd fully put words to it. Something about the way she'd disappeared — not like dreams usually end, not a slow dissolve. It had been abrupt. Wrong.
He reached for his phone.
He found Mizuki's number and called.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
Nothing.
He lowered the phone for a moment, staring at the screen. Then he scrolled up and found the other number — her father's.
It picked up on the third ring.
"Hello — sir." Arashi kept his voice steady, though his grip on the phone had tightened. "Is Mizuki okay?"
For a moment, there was nothing on the other end.
And then — no words. Just the sound of breathing. Fast. Uneven. The kind of breathing that belongs to a person who is trying very hard to hold themselves together and not quite managing it.
Arashi's blood ran cold.
"Sir—"
The breathing continued.
No answer came.