The world felt different without Tadashi.
It wasn't just his absence—it was the way the air felt heavier, the way
laughter had become a foreign sound, the way his name was no longer
spoken in the hallways. Life moved on, as it always did, but for those who
had known him, time seemed to have stopped.
Nao hadn't spoken to anyone in days. She had shut herself away, barely
responding to messages, skipping school, and ignoring the concerned
knocks at her door. She had always been strong—always the one to hold
herself together no matter what but now, she felt like a hollow shell. The
warmth she had started to feel around Tadashi was gone, replaced with a
suffocating emptiness.
The others were struggling too. Haruto and Hikaru threw themselves into
work, Daiki tried to keep up a facade of normalcy, but it was Rin and Kei
who were the most unsettling. They had vanished, leaving behind no
explanation, no note, no farewell. Just gone.
The group was falling apart.
The time skip blurred the pain, but it didn't erase it. Days bled into weeks,
weeks into months. The world moved forward, but Tadashi's absence
lingered in the corners of their hearts like an unshakable shadow.
For Tadashi, however, time had no meaning.
He found himself standing in an empty void, stretching endlessly in every
direction. It was neither dark nor light, just an existence that felt… hollow.
And then, in the distance, he saw it again. The star-like spark.
It flickered, just out of reach, glowing with a warmth that felt familiar. He
didn't know why, but something deep inside him ached to reach it. To grasp
it. To make it his.
He ran.
His feet moved, but the spark always remained just beyond his grasp. No
matter how hard he pushed forward, it danced away from him, taunting
him. He lunged, fingers stretching desperately—and missed.
Falling to his knees, he stared at his trembling hands.
Why? Why couldn't he reach it?
A deep, crushing weight settled on his chest. Despair, thicker and heavier
than anything he had ever felt before, wrapped around him like chains. He
had always believed in pushing forward, in finding a way no matter what—
but here, in this endless void, he was powerless.
His hands clenched into fists. His goal—whatever it was—was still
unfinished. He wasn't meant to be here. He wasn't meant to stay in this
nothingness.
But how was he supposed to move forward when he couldn't even take
hold of what lay before him?
His heart ached. The memories of his friends, of Nao, of the life he had left
behind, flashed before his eyes.
And for the first time, Tadashi felt true, suffocating fear.
Because for the first time, he realized—he might never find his way back.
Nao stared out her window, her face blank, her mind empty. The world
outside continued as if nothing had changed, but she knew the truth.
Everything had changed.
Tadashi was gone.
And she wasn't sure she knew how to live in a world without him.