A teenage boy named Yuta sat cross-legged on his bed, his phone pressed tightly in his hands. The glow of the screen lit his face as he navigated the latest level of his favorite game. Outside, sunlight streamed through the curtains, dust motes dancing lazily in the air. He heard the familiar creak of the stairs and then a call from downstairs.
Rina: Yuta! Can you watch the house for me? I'm heading out to buy groceries. I'll be back by tonight.
Yuta: Okay, Mom… just don't be late.
He let out a small sigh, pausing the game reluctantly, and shuffled downstairs. He noticed the faint smell of her perfume lingering in the air, a subtle reminder of her presence even when she wasn't there.
Rina, meanwhile, moved through the grocery store at a leisurely pace. She carefully picked out vegetables, checking the ripeness of tomatoes and the freshness of lettuce, humming softly under her breath. The store was calm, filled with the quiet murmur of shoppers and the occasional squeak of a cart on the polished floor.
With her shopping complete, she stepped outside, carrying bags in each hand. The street was quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows across the pavement. She adjusted her grip on the bags and continued walking, her mind wandering through the errands she needed to finish once she got home.
Unbeknownst to her, a truck was hurtling down the road at an alarming speed. Inside, the driver slumped forward, unconscious, the vehicle wobbling slightly but continuing its deadly course.
Daiki happened to be on the same street, walking at his usual calm, unhurried pace. His eyes flicked toward the approaching danger and then to the unsuspecting woman. But there was no panic in him, no urgency—just a slight tilt of his head.
Daiki: Oh… okay.
And with that, he continued walking, as if nothing unusual were happening.
Rina hummed a little tune, oblivious to the looming danger. The truck's engine roared closer, the sound growing sharper, more threatening. The breeze shifted, carrying with it the faint scent of gasoline. A few pedestrians noticed the speeding vehicle and froze, their faces twisted in confusion and fear.
Back at home, Yuta grew restless. He tapped his fingers against the table, glancing at the clock. Minutes passed. The sunlight had shifted, stretching shadows across the room. He grew annoyed.
Yuta: Where is she? She's taking forever…
He stood, peering out the window for any sign of her. The street below was calm, normal. Birds flitted between trees, a neighbor watered their garden. Yet, a small, uneasy feeling began to creep into Yuta's chest—a whisper that something wasn't right. But he shook it off, blaming his impatience for the strange sense of dread.