Hoshi Shiragane clutched a photograph of himself and Chiwa, his hands trembling as he sobbed.
Memories of her came back to him all at once.
He reached for the pistol resting on the desk and picked it up, then turned his gaze toward the window of his room.
"I shouldn't have fallen in love."
He slowly raised the gun and placed the barrel in his mouth.
"Thank you… Chiwa… for beginning and ending my miserable life."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The alarm rang at exactly 12 p.m.
The scene shifted to a housefly moving through the apartment hallway, drifting aimlessly.
It paused for a moment, as if sensing something, then suddenly changed direction toward Room 566.
In Room 565, a group of friends laughed and played loud street-style music, filling the space with energy—then, without warning, everything faded to grey.
A girl skipped happily down the hallway, her presence bright and lively, but as she passed Room 566, the color drained from her surroundings as well.
None of them noticed anything unusual.
The housefly slipped into the room.
Something felt wrong.
Hoshi's body lay motionless on the floor as blood slowly spread beneath him.
The photograph remained in his grip.
The clock on the wall read 2:45 p.m.
Neighbors began to gather.
Hoshi was already gone. His eyes were empty.
Some whispered, "What could have driven him to this?"
Others said, "He seemed to have a happy life."
A young girl tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mom… do we all die like this?"
Then everything went dark, and the sound of a heartbeat slowly emerged.
Hoshi opened his eyes, confused. "Am I in hell? Or heaven? Why is everything black?"
Voices reached him from a distance. He recognized them as his neighbors.
"So the theory was true… a person can still hear after death."
Then a familiar voice called out—
"Hoshi-kun."
It was Chiwa.
Before he could respond, something pulled him away.
Hoshi felt rough ground beneath him as his consciousness slowly returned from darkness.
A cold wind brushed his face, sharper than anything he remembered before.
He forced his eyes open and stared at an unfamiliar sky stretching endlessly above.
There were no walls or ceiling, only a vast blue space that felt distant.
"…What is this?" his voice came out dry and uncertain.
He pushed himself up, surprised that his body moved without pain.
His hands trembled slightly as he looked around, trying to understand his surroundings.
Wide grass fields stretched far, broken by distant wooden structures and small moving figures.
"…I'm outside?" he muttered, unable to match this place with memory.
He quickly checked his body, touching his arms, chest, and face.
There were no wounds or blood, nothing that showed what had happened.
"…Did I survive?" he whispered, though the thought felt wrong.
The memory returned without warning, forcing his breath to turn uneven.
The gun, the sound, and the darkness replayed clearly inside his mind.
"…No… I died," he said quietly, unable to deny it.
Silence surrounded him, offering no answer to what stood before him now.
Hoshi slowly stood, his legs unsteady before settling under his weight.
The air felt different, clean but unfamiliar in a way he couldn't place.
He began walking toward the distant structures without thinking too deeply.
Each step felt real, far too real to dismiss as a dream.
"This isn't a dream…" he said under his breath.
As he got closer, the shapes ahead became clearer to recognize.
Wooden houses stood in uneven rows, their roofs shifting slightly in the wind.
People moved between them wearing simple clothes unlike anything modern.
Hoshi stopped walking as confusion settled across his face.
"…What?" he said quietly, unable to process what he saw.
A man carrying a basket paused and turned toward Hoshi.
Their eyes met, and the man's expression shifted into suspicion.
"You there… where are you from?" the man asked carefully.
Hoshi hesitated, unsure how to even answer that question.
"…I don't know," he replied, his voice low and uncertain.
The man frowned, clearly not satisfied with the answer.
"You don't know?" his tone sharpened slightly with doubt.
Hoshi looked down at his clothes and understood the problem.
They didn't match anything the others around him were wearing.
"…I woke up here," he said quietly, avoiding direct eye contact.
Nearby villagers noticed and slowly turned their attention toward him.
Murmurs spread between them as more people began watching.
"He talks strange…"
"Look at what he's wearing…"
Hoshi stepped back slightly, feeling the tension rise around him.
"I'm not here to cause trouble," he said quickly.
The man didn't respond and continued watching him closely.
"…You should leave," he finally said in a steady voice.
Hoshi blinked, caught off guard by the response.
"…Leave?" he repeated, unsure if he heard correctly.
"This village doesn't take in unknown people," the man replied.
There was no anger, only caution in his voice.
Hoshi looked around at the villagers, none stepping forward.
"…I understand," he said quietly, lowering his gaze.
He turned and began walking away without waiting further.
The murmurs followed him before slowly fading behind.
The path ahead stretched into unfamiliar land without comfort.
Hoshi kept walking without looking back.
"…Another world," he whispered after a long silence.
The words felt strange, but nothing else explained this.
Days passed as he moved without any clear direction.
He entered different villages but never stayed long.
People reacted the same way whenever they noticed him.
Curiosity turned into suspicion, and distance followed soon after.
He crossed open fields under harsh sunlight without stopping.
He walked through dense jungles filled with constant sound.
He hid in caves at night when the cold grew too much.
Sometimes he found food, while other times he stayed hungry.
His body grew tired with each passing day, but he kept moving.
"I don't even know where I'm going anymore," he muttered one night.
No answer came, and the silence stayed heavy.
The air began to change as days passed without notice.
It grew colder and less forgiving than before.
Tiny snowflakes landed on his shoulders, melting immediately against the warmth of his skin.
The ground hardened under his feet, slowly covered in frost.
His breath became visible with every step forward.
"…It's getting colder," he said quietly.
The trees changed, becoming thinner and pale.
Eventually, he reached a forest covered in snow.
Everything around him was white and still.
Hoshi slowed his steps as a strange feeling settled in.
A figure stood far away, barely visible ahead.
It was tall and unmoving, clearly watching him.
The figure began walking forward, closing the distance slowly.
Its form became clearer, revealing someone around his age.
A boy approached, wearing a thick fur cloak.
Ice formed around both of his hands, releasing a cold presence.
The air around him felt unnaturally cold.
He stopped walking, and the silence deepened.
Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he stayed frozen in place.
"…Who are you?" Hoshi asked.
No answer came, and the figure disappeared instantly.
Hoshi's eyes widened as confusion took over.
"…What just happened?" he said, turning quickly.
A presence formed behind him without warning.
Before he could react, a fist rushed toward his face.
Hoshi flinched, bracing for impact that never came.
At the last moment, the punch shifted toward the ground.
The impact froze everything it touched, spreading ice outward.
"What is happening—" Hoshi spoke, unable to stay silent.
The boy straightened, his expression calm.
"Nothing much," he replied without emotion.
The cold spread across the forest, freezing everything nearby.
Snow thickened as the air itself seemed to stop.
"Absolute Zero," he said quietly, a faint smirk forming.
His eyes remained locked onto Hoshi, filled with quiet control.
Hoshi Shiragane instinctively immediately takes a stance to run.