After I lost my sister, my life plummeted into an abyss so deep that it felt as though reality itself had been shattered. The days that followed were a relentless, suffocating nightmare, each moment heavier than the last.
I called the police incessantly, my voice hoarse from desperation, filing missing-person reports with trembling hands. I begged them, pleaded with them, to help me find Anna. I scoured every street in Tokyo, ran through alleyways, pounded on doors, searching until my feet were raw and bleeding. But there was nothing. Not a single trace. She had vanished—as if she had never existed.
I dialed her number over and over, my fingers pressing the buttons like a prayer, clinging to the fragile hope that somehow, some way, she would answer. Each time, the phone rang into an empty void, taunting me with its silence. But I couldn't stop myself. I needed to hear her voice, even if it was just a whisper through the static.
And then—
"The number you are trying to call does not exist."
The robotic voice struck me like a knife to the gut. My breath caught. My heart stopped.
Does not exist?
That didn't make sense. How could Anna—my sister, my flesh and blood—cease to exist?
The world around me twisted, the ground beneath my feet shifting as if I were standing on the edge of a collapsing reality.
Then the police called me back. For a fleeting moment, hope surged in my chest—maybe they had found something, anything.
But instead of answers, they accused me of fabricating the entire thing.
"Sir, we've checked the records."
"You don't have a sister."
"There is no Anna."
Their words echoed in my ears, a cruel mockery of my grief.
"What…?" My voice came out as a whisper.
"Perhaps you should consider a psychiatric evaluation," they added, as if my suffering was nothing more than an illusion.
I couldn't believe it.
What the actual hell was going on?!
Those bastards were toying with me, spitting in my face while I was already drowning. How could they say she never existed? I grew up with her. We shared a lifetime of memories—laughter, fights, inside jokes, late-night talks about our dreams and fears. She was real.
She was real!!!
In a blind frenzy, I bolted toward her room, a wild, desperate need driving my body forward.
I had to prove it.
Her drawings. Her books. Her clothes. Something had to be there. Something that would tell me I wasn't losing my goddamn mind.
But as I reached the place where her room should have been—
There was nothing.
A wall. A solid, unmoving wall.
No door. No room. No trace that Anna had ever lived there.
I stumbled back, my stomach twisting into knots.
What?
What was happening?!
Just yesterday, I had stood there, rummaging through her things, touching her bed, inhaling the faint scent of her favorite lavender scented candles. And now—gone.
Like she had been erased.
And the nightmare didn't stop there.
I called my parents. My voice trembled.
But the answer they gave me shattered what was left of my world.
"Who?"
"Jack, what are you talking about? You're our only child."
"You don't have a sister."
The air in my lungs turned to ice.
The voices on the other end were familiar, unmistakable. They were my parents. And yet, they did not remember her.
I felt something snap inside me.
One by one, the pillars of my reality crumbled. The people who should have known her best—the ones who had raised her—forgot she ever existed!
Was the entire world going insane?
Or was it…
Me?
I panicked, confused, frightened. I couldn't understand any of this bullshit. To me, Anna was the realist thing that ever existed in my life. She was my dear little sister, the one I cherished, the one I loved the most. Yet, the evidence was all against me, against Anna…
And for a short moment, I too, was in doubt.
Is it true?
Is all that I believed to be true merely a figment of a deranged mind?
Am I… actually… the crazy one here?
And then, whatever was happening to everyone else, began happening to me.
I tried to recall her face, but it was fading, like ink washing away in the rain. Her voice—gone. Her laughter—muted.
I grasped at the memories, desperate to hold onto her, but they were slipping through my fingers, vanishing into a void of nothingness.
"What… was her name again?"
A slow, creeping horror seeped into my bones.
I was losing her.
Losing Anna.
Losing the only thing that had ever mattered.
But just as I felt myself sinking into the abyss—
One memory surfaced.
A flicker of warmth.
A beacon of light cutting through the darkness.
And in that moment—
I knew.
She was real.
—————————————
The hospital was quiet, filled with the soft beeping of monitors and the sterile scent of antiseptic. I hesitated at the doorway, my small hands clenched into fists at my sides. A sister. I hadn't wanted one. For six years, I had been the sole focus of my parents' love, their world revolving around me. The idea of sharing that, of being less important, gnawed at me with a confusing mix of resentment and jealousy.
But then, as I walk into the room, I saw her.
Nestled in my mother's arms was Anna—tiny, fragile, her face wrinkled with newborn softness. Her little chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. She looked so… helpless. So delicate. And despite everything I had felt before, something inside me shifted.
An instinct awakened—one I hadn't known I possessed.
My mother, her face exhausted yet radiant with an indescribable glow, beckoned me closer. "Jack, this is your little sister. Her name is Anna," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Do you want to say hi?"
Of course, I did.
I took a hesitant step forward, drawn by an invisible force. Anna stirred, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if reaching for something—someone. Then, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the biggest, most innocent eyes I had ever seen. Deep and filled with a quiet wonder, they locked onto mine.
In that moment, I was lost.
The jealousy? The resentment? They evaporated, replaced by something far stronger. Love. A fierce, protective love that swelled within me like a tidal wave. She wasn't just a sister. She was a part of me. A piece of my soul.
I reached out, hesitant, and extended a single finger toward her.
And then, it happened.
Her tiny hand—so impossibly small—wrapped around my finger. Her grip was weak, yet somehow, it felt unbreakable. As she held onto me, something within me snapped into place.
I will protect you.
That was the silent promise I made in that moment.
I would be her shield, her guardian, her forever friend. No matter what, I would always be there for her.
It was magical.
And now, this world dared to try and erase her?
Like hell I was going to let that happen!
I clung to that memory with everything I had, fighting back against the force that tried to rip Anna from existence. And as I did, more memories resurfaced—every second, every minute we had spent together. Her laughter, her tears, her sleepy murmurs as she clung to me on stormy nights. Everything.
Anna was not fake.
She was not an illusion.
She was real!
Even if the whole world had cast her into oblivion, I would eternally hold her in remembrance! If no one was going to help me find her, help me bring her back, then I would do it myself!
Thus, this marked the inception of my unwavering twenty-year pursuit.
I then delved into research, undertook rigorous training, and submerged myself in studies with fervent zeal as if each day was a battle for survival. In due course, I unraveled the mysteries of those enigmatic summoning circles.
And at long last—today, I succeeded.
After two decades of unwavering obsession…
I finally made it here.
To the world that stole Anna from me.