The alarm blared like an unwelcome guest, pulling 17-year-old Ishida out of his restless slumber.
He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the peeling paint on the ceiling. His face bore an expression of utter boredom, as if waking up was the greatest chore of his life.
"Ugh... What a drag," he muttered, slamming his hand on the alarm. The digital display blinked: 6:00 AM.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled downstairs to the bathroom. The house was eerily quiet, as it always was. Being an only child, Ishida had grown accustomed to solitude. His parents, dedicated workers, left early every morning for their jobs, leaving him to fend for himself. He did so half-heartedly, often skipping tasks that didn't seem immediately necessary.
After freshening up, he rummaged through the kitchen, cobbling together a simple breakfast and packing a lunch. He ate in silence, staring at the clock, then begrudgingly put on his school uniform.
The air outside was crisp as he stepped onto the porch. Across the road lay a vast jungle, dense and mysterious, stretching endlessly. Behind his house were three other modest homes, framed by golden-green rice fields.
Locking the door, Ishida mounted his old bicycle and began pedaling toward the city. The morning wind tugged at his hair as he rode, its chill biting but invigorating. The fog hung low, weaving through the quiet streets like a ghost.
"This place is so peaceful," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the whir of his bike wheels.
The serenity reminded him of what life used to be like—before. A flashback struck him: a younger Ishida, trapped in the chaos of an overpopulated, polluted city. The choking air, the constant noise, the relentless pace. His face twisted in disdain at the memory.
"Hey, Ishida! Wait up!" a voice called, shattering his thoughts.
Ishida groaned audibly, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He slowed his bike, glancing over his shoulder to see Kazuki—a short, plump boy of 15—sprinting toward him.
"Why are you ignoring me, man?" Kazuki panted, red-faced. "I told you we'd go to school together from now on!"
"I didn't notice you, small fry," Ishida replied flatly, though it was an obvious lie.
Kazuki grinned and hopped onto the back seat of Ishida's bike. "Let's hurry, or we'll miss our tuition class."
Ishida sighed heavily. "Why do you keep sticking to me?"
"Because you're my ride to school now!" Kazuki said cheerfully. "And besides, I don't have a bike."
"Yeah... and now I regret helping you once," Ishida thought, his annoyance growing.
Kazuki chattered endlessly, oblivious to Ishida's growing irritation. But then his tone changed.
"Hey, Ishida... did you hear about the blast in the jungle last night?" Kazuki asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Ishida's hands tightened on the handlebars. His heart skipped a beat. He slowed the bike abruptly, causing Kazuki to yelp.
"Whoa, what are you doing? Be careful!" Kazuki exclaimed.
"Get off," Ishida ordered, his voice tense. "You're close enough to school. Walk the rest of the way."
"Huh? What's the rush?" Kazuki asked, confused.
"I've got something important to do," Ishida said, turning the bike sharply toward home.
---
Flashback: The Night Before
The house was quiet, save for the faint rustling of pages. Ishida sat at his desk, absorbed in a novel, the dim light of his desk lamp casting shadows across the room.
Then it happened.
BANG!
A deafening explosion tore through the stillness, reverberating in his chest. Ishida jolted, his book slipping from his hands. He rushed to the window, his heart pounding, and saw it: a plume of smoke rising from deep within the jungle.
Without hesitation, he ran downstairs and flung open the front door. The cool night air bit at his skin, but his eyes were fixed on the distant smoke. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the smoke vanished.
"Ishida? What are you doing?" his mother's voice called from behind. She stood at the foot of the stairs, her brow furrowed.
"Didn't you hear that noise just now?" Ishida asked, his voice urgent.
"What noise?" she replied, looking genuinely confused. "Are you feeling okay?"
"You didn't hear it?!" Ishida's mind raced. Was he the only one who heard it?
"No, beta," his mother said, her tone soft but firm. "Go back to bed. You probably had a bad dream."
Ishida hesitated, his thoughts in turmoil. Eventually, he trudged back upstairs. His mother called after him: "And stop being so rude to people!"
"Yeah, yeah... sorry," he mumbled distractedly.
Back in his room, he paced restlessly. "What was that? A dream? No... it felt too real. The sound, the smoke—I saw it." He glanced out the window at the jungle, now eerily calm.
A cold breeze slipped through the open window, brushing against his face. The curtains swayed gently as he stared into the darkness, his unease growing.
The jungle stood silent, but something about it felt... alive.