The Heart of Zero

Riyugi slowly awoke from unconsciousness, as though her world was shrouded in a thin veil of mist. The white ceiling gradually came into focus, but it exuded an inexplicable sense of cold detachment. The pungent smell of disinfectant permeated the infirmary, stinging her nostrils, yet strangely offering a misplaced sense of security. Outside the window, the sound of wind brushing through the leaves whispered softly in her ears, yet within the room, an unsettling silence reigned, as though the entire world had been sealed away.

She tried to move her arm, but her body felt as though it were weighed down by a thousand pounds, every effort—even a slight twitch of her fingers—was agonizingly difficult. Her thoughts were still muddled, fragments of broken images lingering in the recesses of her mind like scattered shards of memory in the dark, impossible to piece together. Some unknown force had surrounded her—Shingin's figure flashed before her eyes, a fleeting vision, dreamlike and distant.

"Where am I... what happened?" Riyugi murmured, her voice barely a whisper, weak as an echo in a hollow valley. Her gaze drifted around the room until it finally settled on a figure standing at her bedside.

"Myouka...?"

Her closest friend—Natsukawa Myouka—stood silently beside her bed, her slender figure seeming to merge seamlessly with the pale infirmary background. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded like night ink over her shoulders, the soft curls swaying slightly with her subtle movements. A delicate hairpin held a few strands of her bangs in place, glinting faintly, adding a playful touch to her otherwise calm demeanor. Her large, deep-set eyes seemed to harbor secrets yet untold, their lashes trembling softly, alive with hidden mysteries.

Myouka stood there quietly, unmoving, an indescribable complexity etched on her face—part concern, part something more elusive, as though she were holding back something unspoken. Her hands clutched the scarf that was perpetually wrapped around her neck, her knuckles pale from the tension, betraying the effort to suppress the turbulence within.

Riyugi stirred slightly, her breaths still shallow, as though at any moment she might be submerged beneath the invisible weight pressing upon her. Myouka seemed to notice her movement, her brows knitting together, a flicker of unease flashing across her eyes.

"Riyugi, are you okay?" Myouka's voice was soft and light, but the faint urgency in her tone gave away her inner anxiety. Her words, like bells in the wind, lingered gently in Riyugi's ears.

Riyugi closed her eyes for a moment, trying to clear her chaotic thoughts. Shingin's name suddenly surfaced in her mind, and her heart clenched sharply, anxiety swelling uncontrollably. "Where's Shingin? Is he okay?" Her voice trembled with unease, her fingers quivering unconsciously with tension.

At Riyugi's question, Myouka raised her eyebrows slightly, a brief flicker of confusion crossing her face. She tilted her head gently, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as though humoring someone who'd just uttered something foolish. "What are you talking about? I only found you collapsed there—there was no Shingin." Her voice was airy and teasing, yet beneath that lighthearted tone lay an ineffable secrecy, as though she were deliberately blurring some important truth.

"Collapsed... alone?" Riyugi froze, the broken fragments of memory surging like a rising tide. That moment—neither dream nor reality—replayed in her mind: Shingin's figure shielding her, the oppressive force that had weighed down on her lingering still in the surrounding air. Her brows furrowed deeply as she murmured, "But I remember... it didn't feel like a dream..."

Seeing Riyugi's dazed expression, Myouka chuckled softly. She leaned closer, gently brushing the edge of her scarf against Riyugi's nose, as if soothing a frightened little animal. "Don't overthink it. You must have had a nightmare." Her tone was so lighthearted that it begged the question whether she truly believed her own words. "You fainted from anemia—it's nothing serious." Yet despite the casual way she spoke, Riyugi detected an undercurrent of evasion, as though Myouka were carefully skirting around something she didn't wish to address.

Riyugi's gaze lingered on Myouka's face, the questions in her heart becoming harder to suppress. Myouka's expression remained soft and composed, her scarf resting loosely on her shoulder, as if everything were as it should be. Yet in that instant, Riyugi suddenly felt that Myouka's eyes held secrets—depths of mystery that made her shiver.

"Was it really just a dream?" Riyugi whispered to herself, her gaze dim. She couldn't shake off the lingering unease—that haunting sense of realism was too vivid to dismiss, as though the tension still clung to her skin.

Myouka, seeing her expression, deepened her smile, though her lips curled in a way that remained inscrutable. "Alright, stop overthinking. Just rest for now—I'll take you home later." She absentmindedly smoothed the edges of her scarf, a motion that seemed to bring her a measure of comfort, her tone still breezy and light.

Yet Riyugi's heart remained clouded, the fog of her dream—or perhaps her memory—refusing to lift. She looked at Myouka again, feeling a strange distance growing between them, as though an unseen barrier now separated them both.

Before leaving the infirmary, Myouka turned back to look at Riyugi one last time. Her lips lifted slightly, but the smile did not reach her eyes. That deep, mysterious gaze weighed heavy on Riyugi's chest, as though an unsolved riddle had been left in Myouka's wake, its truth retreating further from reach with every step she took.