Aren didn't sleep well.
Not because he was scared.
Because his mind wouldn't stop replaying it.
The delay.
The reflection.
That moment on the bus—
Where everything went silent.
He opened his eyes before the alarm rang.
6:12 AM.
Too early.
His room looked the same as always—plain walls, a chair with clothes thrown over it, his phone charging near the bed.
Normal.
Everything normal.
"…Right," he muttered.
Last night was just—
No.
He stopped that thought.
Calling it imagination didn't feel right anymore.
Aren sat up slowly, rubbing his face.
"Let's just confirm," he said under his breath.
If something was wrong… it would happen again.
He stood and walked to the mirror.
For a second, he just stared at himself.
Same tired eyes.
Same expression.
Nothing unusual.
"…Okay."
He moved his hand.
The reflection followed instantly.
Perfect sync.
He let out a small breath.
Maybe he really did overthink it.
Then—
He blinked.
The reflection didn't.
Aren froze.
It was subtle.
So subtle most people would miss it.
But he didn't.
His eyes were open.
The reflection's were still closed.
A fraction of a second later—
It blinked.
Aren stepped back.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like moving too fast might break something.
"No," he whispered.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't explainable.
He stared again.
Nothing.
The reflection matched perfectly now.
Silence filled the room.
His heartbeat started to rise.
Not panic.
Not yet.
But something close.
"…So it's real."
Saying it out loud made it heavier.
More solid.
Aren looked away from the mirror.
That was enough testing.
For now.
He got ready quickly, movements sharper than usual.
Every small thing felt slightly… off.
Like his senses were paying too much attention.
The sound of running water felt louder.
The ticking of the clock felt slower.
Even his own footsteps—
Felt like they landed a fraction late.
He stopped walking.
Listened.
Silence.
"…I hate this," he muttered.
Outside, the morning looked normal.
People heading to work.
Vendors setting up.
Traffic starting to build.
But now—
He couldn't trust what "normal" meant.
Aren kept his head slightly down as he walked.
Not out of fear.
Out of focus.
Watching.
A bike passed him.
A dog barked in the distance.
Two people argued over something trivial.
Then—
Aren noticed it again.
A man walking ahead of him.
Grey jacket.
Steady pace.
For a second—
His footsteps didn't make sound.
Aren frowned.
The man kept walking.
Then—
The sound came back.
Perfectly normal.
Like it had just… resumed.
Aren slowed down.
Watching him more carefully now.
"Hey."
The word slipped out before he could stop himself.
The man didn't react.
Aren tried again, louder.
"Hey!"
This time, the man stopped.
Slowly turned around.
His face was normal.
Too normal.
Blank, almost.
"Do you need something?" the man asked.
Aren hesitated.
What was he supposed to say?
"Your footsteps disappeared for a second"?
"…No," Aren said finally. "Sorry."
The man stared at him for a moment longer than necessary.
Then turned and walked away.
Aren didn't move.
Something about that felt wrong.
Not the voice.
Not the face.
The pause.
Like the man had needed a second to… respond.
Aren exhaled slowly.
"Okay," he said quietly.
"Step one—observe."
If this was happening—
Then there had to be a pattern.
And if there was a pattern—
He could understand it.
And if he understood it—
He could survive it.
Aren started walking again.
Slower this time.
More aware.
He passed a shop window.
For a moment—
He almost looked at his reflection again.
But stopped himself.
"…Not yet."
Something told him—
Looking too much…
Might not be harmless.
So instead—
He kept walking.
Watching the world.
And the world—
Slowly—
Started to feel like it was watching him back.
End of Chapter 2