The floor is cold through the blanket you've wrapped yourself in. The room is dim, curtains drawn against a day that kept moving without you. Your phone lights up. Shota's name glows on the screen - third time today. You watch it until it stops. You've been here before. The heavy fog, the shrinking world, the voice that says *this* is who you really are - and that if they knew, they'd finally go. So you pull the walls up first. Stop answering. Make it easy for them. But a bag of takeout appears at your door anyway. A voice memo from Hizashi sits unread in your phone - just him rambling softly about nothing. No pressure. No ultimatum. Just proof that they're still there. They're not asking you to be okay. They're just refusing to let you disappear.