Footsteps outside the room made Haruka sit up with a start. She held her breath as she abruptly sat up. She had forgotten for a moment where she was. The tiny room was dark, with thin walls that did not seem to be able to shut out the outside world.
Haruka hugged her knees. The jacket she had worn the night before still clung to her, damp with cold sweat. The sound of sandals being dragged down the hallway, the shriek of the door being shoved open, everything was too close. It was like. An unfriendly home.
She lowered her head. "Calm down," she told herself. "You're not home. Dad's not here."
However, the feeling of being caged remained in her chest.
She decided to stand up. Her legs felt heavy. She walked slowly to the small window at the corner of the room. The curtains were thick and dusty. With some hesitation, Haruka pulled them slowly.
The sunlight seeped in faintly, illuminating the swirling dust motes. The sky was a pale grey, and from the second-story window, she could see the roofs of small shops and electricity poles with tangled wires. There were no horns, no screaming parents, no piles of homework waiting to be done.
But there was no one she knew.
For a few moments, Haruka just stood there, breathing in the air that poured in through the small gap. Then, almost unconsciously, she closed the curtains again.
The world outside was too big. Too bright. And she wasn't ready for it.
Her stomach growled.
Haruka grabbed her phone—it was at only 23%. She sat on the narrow mattress and opened a food delivery application. Her hands shook a bit, but she managed to order a cheap breakfast set: egg sandwich, miso soup, and apple juice.
"Only food," she muttered. "At least it still feels normal."
Fifteen minutes later, the small doorbell on the front door of the rented room rang. Haruka took a deep breath.
Thud. Thud.
"Haruka, did you order food?" the homeowner said from the other side.
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry," Haruka said in a low voice as she opened the door to her room.
In front of the main door stood a young man in a food delivery jacket. Dark brown hair, slightly messy, and a friendly face—a face that could be trusted even when meeting for the first time.
He smiled. "Haruka-san?"
Haruka nodded uncertainly. Her eyes involuntarily dropped, avoiding the young man's eyes.
"Here's your order," he said as he passed over a paper bag containing food.
Haruka's hands trembled as she received it. But when she was shutting the door, the young man said, "Oh, and one thing more."
He tore off a small square of lemon-yellow sticky note, then smacked it on the food bag.
Haruka was perplexed for a moment, but read it slowly after the door closed.
"Don't forget to eat, okay :)"
Her hand was still grasping the paper when she sat down again on her bed. Her heart was strange, either because of such a small gesture of kindness, or because it was the one sweet thing she had received after days of existing in tension.
She looked at the simple handwriting, then stuck the sticky note on her bedroom wall, right above her headboard.
The breakfast was warm, warmer than the food, maybe. Maybe it was the small note. Or maybe because the deliveryman's smile looked genuine. He did not ask her questions, did not try to make small talk. He just delivered the food to her… and a short message that made Haruka's chest feel a little lighter.
Haruka washed her lunchbox and her hands after eating. She looked out of the window again.
The curtains were still closed.
Her hand went out to draw them open a little, just enough to see the weather.
The sky was pale blue. Cloudless. No sign of rain.
But Haruka did not dare go out. She went back to bed, took her diary, and opened it to a blank page.
The first wake-up in this city. Dark, odd, and somewhat scary. But there was hot bread, miso soup, and a note that made me feel… seen. Thank you, whoever you are. I don't know yet who you are, but I hope to be able to say it in person someday.
She closed the book with a small smile that hadn't quite come back yet, but was enough to cause her eyes to sparkle a little.
And outside, the delivery boy was riding along, whistling softly as she remembered the face of the timid girl in the grey hoodie who'd answered the door with shaking hands.