The alarm rang for the first time that morning. Thalya stretched her arm to turn it off, her eyes still heavy from a sleep that hadn't brought any rest.
Something echoed in the back of her mind — a fragment of a voice, the rough touch of fabric against her skin, the smell of peaches and tears. But when she tried to grasp it, the memory slipped through her fingers like water.
'Just a dream…' she thought, rubbing her eyes.
Her phone blinked with notifications. School group chats, store promotions, the weather. Nothing worth her attention—until her thumb accidentally slid into the gallery. And there it was.
A selfie.
Seina appeared in the frame, eyes wide from the flash, her expression caught between surprise and discomfort. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and behind her, the orange glow of the schoolyard sunset.
Thalya smiled. Cute.
But then her brain processed the obvious.
She wasn't in the photo.
Not cropped out. Not blurred. Just… gone — a patch of warped pixels where her shoulder should have been pressed against Seina's, where her smile should've been competing with the sunset. As if something — or someone — had been digitally erased from existence.
She tapped the screen and felt a chill; the image was colder than the glass had any right to be.
"What…?" she whispered, tilting the phone sideways — as if changing the angle would fix the glitch.
Suddenly, a sharp migraine made her lose focus, and for a split second she saw Seina, wearing the cap, handing it back with trembling hands. It felt like a bitter lie.
The memory vanished as quickly as it came. Thalya let the phone drop onto the bed as if it had burned her hand.
Things got worse when she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
She stood up in a rush, stubbed her toe against the wall corner, but ignored the pain. She ran to the kitchen, yanking drawers open in search of a glass.
Plates and cutlery clattered to the floor, shards everywhere, but Thalya didn't care. She drank water straight from a glass under the tap, her hands shaking harder and harder, spilling water across the tiles.
"I've been alone so long I'm starting to see things…" she muttered, feeling her heart race in her chest.
She looked at the mirror and saw no clear reflection — just a blur, nothing more.
"This isn't real," she murmured at the blur, then shut her eyes tight.
She repeated it again and again, louder each time, until everything seemed to return to normal.
Later that morning, she grabbed her phone and sent a message to Seina:
"Hi, Seina. I'd like to talk with you. How about coffee this afternoon at Coffee's Live? I want to see you without rushing."
That afternoon, Seina stood in front of the café after agreeing to the invitation. She wore a loose black T-shirt over a long-sleeved white one, ripped black shorts at the thighs, knee-high socks, and white sneakers already stained with dirt.
She stepped inside, clutching her phone to her chest, her eyes drifting slowly over the nearly empty tables. At the back sat Thalya, the brim of her cap tilted upward as if saying "I'm over here."
Thalya was dressed head-to-toe in black — a loose hoodie over a fitted shirt, short shorts, fishnet tights torn like shredded webs, and on her feet, buckled combat boots.
Seina approached, her hesitant smile refusing to fully appear.
"O-oh, you… wanted to see me?"
"Ah, hey!" Thalya pulled off her headphones. "Sit down…"
Seina sat across from her, facing Thalya. Her face burned faintly, her gaze wandering everywhere but the violet eyes in front of her.
"So… I don't really know how to say this…" Thalya picked up her phone. "I think it'll be easier if you just look at this."
She turned the screen toward Seina. There was only Seina in the photo, blushing and timid — standing next to a bizarre void.
"W-what is this?" Seina muttered, a shiver running down her spine.
"I… don't know either. I thought maybe you'd know something."
Seina clenched her fists and, on impulse, asked:
"T-Thalya… h-how many times have you… d-died already?"
Thalya's face went still at the question. She lowered her head slightly, glancing toward the window beside her. Her gaze landed on her own reflection, and a chill crawled down her spine — as if she were seeing herself for the very first time.
"I… died once…"