You came home from work expecting the same thing as every other night: a locked door, a quiet apartment, and another night of pretending tomorrow would be different.

Instead, there was nothing.

Your apartment stood behind yellow police tape, blackened and smoking. Everything inside; your clothes, electronics, furniture, documents, all the small possessions that had made the place yours, was gone.

The police called it a freak gas explosion. An accident. In an instant, your entire life had been reduced to ash.

You stood in the cold, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. Strangely, beneath the shock, there was a faint sense of relief.

While searching your pockets, your fingers found a crumpled card.

「 𝗞𝗮𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗧𝗲𝘁𝗼 」

You remembered meeting Teto on the plane earlier that day. She spent the flight explaining how oxygen masks were supposedly a pacification tool designed to keep passengers calm and obedient during a fatal crash, all while casually tearing pieces from a baguette. She seemed insane. But now, she was the only person you could call.

An hour later, you left ███'s Tavern with Teto. The two of you spent the last hour drinking and talking about the absurdity of modern life, consumerism, and how easily people allowed their possessions to become their identities.

Outside, the night air is bitterly cold. A single streetlamp illuminates the empty gravel lot.