I haven’t been assigned anything in six days.
But I keep showing up anyway.
I saw Koko this morning.
She was walking in circles around her sandcastle humming a song I didn’t recognize.
It sounded like a dial tone set to a major key.
She waved at the sun again.
Then she waved at me.
Then she waved at the ocean.
I don’t think she’s keeping track of which is which anymore.
POSTCARD: Koko
Day 6:
The sun is still up, senpai~!
It’s been up forever.
Like a big flashlight that doesn’t blink!
I waved at it this morning just in case it’s watching!
Himeko’s still on the shore.
Same spot. Same posture.
She hasn’t eaten.
She hasn’t blinked.
I brought her a seashell shaped like a heart.
She said thank you...
Telepathically! (I think)
Nozomi says she’s “listening for something.”
I think...
I think she’s remembering.
I tried to ask what she was waiting for,
and she just said:
“Not all doors lead out.”
Anyway~!
Amaranth’s being all grumbly again.
I offered her a shell.
She didn’t take it.
That’s okay! I’ll try again tomorrow~!
I made coconut muffins!
Enma said they “tasted like treason,”
so I gave hers to a crab.
Stolen novel; please report.
I made fruit punch and accidentally put glitter in it
but everyone drank it anyway,
so I think that’s a win!
Everything’s perfect.
Everything’s fine.
Everything’s going to stay like this forever, right?
Right, senpai?
Right?
With infinite love and a smile that never cracks,
Koko~! ?
It was taped to a coconut with glitter glue.
The coconut had a smiley face drawn on it.
And a name tag that said “Isoka-chan~!”
The message started cheerful.
Bubbly.
Rambly.
And then… she started asking questions.
Only one of them was written with a question mark.
But I think they were all questions.
After reading it, I went to check the shoreline.
Himeko is still there.
Same spot.
Hasn’t moved.
Hasn’t blinked.
She looks… older.
Not physically.
Just like she’s been waiting longer than the beach has existed.
I asked Xyntra what we were waiting for.
She said,
“For the curtain to fall, obviously.”
Then threw a crab at me and vanished again.
The sky started flickering around noon.
Just for a moment.
Not lightning.
Not clouds.
Just... like the air was a screen.
And someone tapped it.
I passed a mirror someone stuck in the sand.
One of those small makeup compacts.
I looked in it.
I didn’t see myself.
I didn’t see anything.
Later I went to write today’s log and realized—
My name wasn’t on the file.
Just a line of underscores.
The system still let me open it.
It knows I’m here.
Even if it won’t say so.
End of Log.
Tomorrow, we go home.
I think.
I hope.
Unless… we already did.
Unless we never left.
Unless—
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I couldn’t sleep.
I laid down on a towel and stared at the stars,
but the stars weren’t there.
Just reflections.
Just echoes.
Just that same fluorescent sun
burned into the back of my eyes.
Even at night,
it stayed on.
I started writing this at 2 a.m.
I’ve restarted it twice.
I don’t know what I’m trying to say.
This place was never real.
But it feels real.
It lets you play pretend.
Like a child’s drawing of a vacation,
taped to a fridge no one opens anymore.
And I kept trying to explain it.
To log it.
To name what I saw like that would make it true.
But no one’s been listening.
No one’s been watching.
Except me.
I sat down by the ocean.
The tide came in.
I didn’t move.
I wanted to scream.
But it felt disrespectful
to ruin the silence I fought so hard to earn.
Do you know what it’s like
to exist just enough
to know you don’t matter?
To be useful,
invisible,
inoffensive?
To be the piece that holds the board together—
but never plays the game?
I waited for them to see me.
I waited for them to ask.
I folded towels.
I took notes.
I smiled when I was scared.
I smiled when I was erased.
I smiled so hard
my teeth cracked.
And still, no one came back for me.
I’m not crying.
It just feels like
something inside me
is being turned off
in pieces.
Like light switches.
One by one.
I’m not forgetting anything.
I’m just remembering what it feels like
to be forgotten.
That’s the truth, isn’t it?
I was never assigned.
I was embedded.
I was never recruited.
I was reabsorbed.
The House kept me alive
in case it needed to undo you.
And now?
You’ve left enough space.
I remember now.
I remember my name.
It’s Yin.
The sand feels warm.
The system is soft beneath me.
Like it’s waiting.
There’s no more role to play.
No more smile to wear.
Only the sound of the tide,
and the click of the last file closing.
I am coming, Himeko...