Eclipse

Chapter 3

Yui never imagined she would find herself there that day. It had only been five days since she was discharged from the hospital, and the transition back to the outside world was more challenging than she had anticipated. The days in the hospital, despite being tinged with the constant shadow of illness, had a rhythm she had grown accustomed to. She missed the sterile, predictable environment and the familiar faces that filled her time there—the nurses, the patients, and most of all, the young doctor she had developed a quiet crush on. He was a curious mix of aloof and attentive, his cat-like features both intriguing and comforting.

Leaving the hospital felt like tearing herself away from the only sense of stability she had known for months. Still, she knew she had to move on. The world outside was waiting, even if it wasn't the world she had wanted to return to. Her chest ached with more than just emotional pain, her condition had been worsening, the sharp pangs in her chest growing more frequent, more intense. But she kept this to herself, refusing to worry the few people she cared about. She had always believed that it was better to face the end alone, without burdening others.

That day, she decided to revisit the hospital one last time. It wasn't for any medical reason—she simply wanted to deliver a small token of gratitude to the staff who had cared for her. She packed a bag of her favorite cookies, the kind she often shared with Chishiya during her stay. His reserved nature had intrigued her, and those quiet moments they shared over cookies had become a small yet meaningful part of her routine. However, when she arrived, he was nowhere to be found. The nurses informed her that he wasn't working that day, a fact that disappointed her more than she wanted to admit.

With a smile, she distributed the cookies among the staff and patients, lingering in the hallways for a bit longer than necessary, as if trying to imprint every detail into her memory. The bustling atmosphere of the hospital, once something she had desperately wanted to escape, now felt strangely comforting. But she knew she couldn't stay. So, with a heavy heart, she left.

As she stepped into the bustling streets of Shibuya, the contrast between the busy city and the quiet hospital was jarring. She wandered aimlessly, her thoughts scattered, until she found herself at the famous Shibuya Crossing. The crowds moved around her like a river, and for a moment, she felt utterly disconnected from everything around her. It was as if she were a ghost, moving unnoticed among the living.

She had walked across the crossing countless times before, but today, something felt different. A strange feeling gnawed at the back of her mind, a sense that something was about to change. Then, out of nowhere, the sky above erupted in a burst of color. Fireworks. In the middle of the day. Yui stopped in her tracks, staring up at the sky in confusion. Fireworks were usually reserved for festivals or special occasions, and always at night. What was going on?

Her first thought was that there might be some event she had forgotten about, but as she looked around, she saw that everyone seemed mesmerized by the display. But some people just continued their day as if nothing unusual was happening. Dismissing it as some quirky Tokyo event, she decided to keep walking.

Eventually, she found herself in front of a small bookstore. The sign above the door was faded, and the windows were cluttered with old posters, but something about it drew her in. She pushed open the door, a bell jingling softly as she entered. The smell of old paper and ink-filled her senses, bringing with it a wave of nostalgia. She began to browse the shelves, her fingers trailing along the spines of books, some of which looked older than she was.

As she picked out a few titles, thinking they might help pass the time in the lonely days ahead, the lights suddenly flickered and went out. The store was plunged into darkness, save for the faint light filtering in through the windows. Yui's heart skipped a beat. She looked around, expecting to see someone—anyone—but the store was empty.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice unnaturally loud in the silence. No response.

A cold wave of unease washed over her. She set the books down and hurried to the front of the store. When she stepped outside, her breath caught in her throat. The once-bustling streets were now deserted. It was as if the entire population of Tokyo had vanished in the span of a few minutes. The cars were abandoned, their engines silent. Shop doors hung open as if people had left in a rush, but there was no sign of where they had gone.

"Hello?!" she shouted, her voice echoing down the empty streets. But there was no answer, only the eerie silence that seemed to swallow her words.

Panic started to creep in. She fumbled for her phone, hoping to call someone—anyone—but when she pressed the power button, nothing happened. The screen remained black, dead. She was sure she had charged it before leaving her apartment. Frustration and fear mingled in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Desperate, she decided to head back to the hospital. It was the only place she could think of that might still be safe, a beacon of familiarity in this suddenly alien world. The walk back felt longer than usual, the streets stretching out before her like a never-ending labyrinth. When she finally reached the hospital, her heart sank. It, too, was empty. The lights were off, the doors ajar, as if everyone had simply walked out in the middle of the day.

Yui wandered through the hallways, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness. The hospital, once a place of life and healing, now felt like a tomb. She checked room after room, hoping to find someone—anyone—but there was no one. It was as if the entire building had been abandoned for years, though she knew that was impossible.

Exhaustion and despair began to weigh on her. She slumped against a wall, burying her face in her hands. This was what she had always wanted, wasn't it? To be alone, free from the burden of worrying about others or being worried about. But now that her wish had come true, it felt like a cruel joke. The silence was suffocating, the loneliness more crushing than she had ever imagined.

After what felt like hours, she forced herself to her feet. She couldn't stay there, surrounded by the ghosts of what once was. She needed to go home, to her apartment, where at least the familiar surroundings might provide some comfort. As she made her way back, the eeriness of the deserted city clung to her like a shadow. Every creak, every distant noise made her jump, but she kept moving, determined to reach the safety of her home.

When she finally arrived, she wasted no time changing out of her clothes into something more comfortable—a black long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of black track pants. She was hungry, but when she tried to make ramen, she discovered the power was out. No electricity, no water. The thought of a citywide blackout crossed her mind, but it didn't explain the disappearance of everyone.

The sky outside was beginning to darken, the last rays of sunlight fading into the horizon. Her stomach growled in protest, so she rummaged through her cupboards, finding a few packs of the cookies she had brought to the hospital. She ate them slowly, savoring each bite, though they did little to ease the gnawing hunger.

As the night grew deeper, she knew she couldn't stay in her apartment with so little food and no water. She needed supplies, and the nearest convenience store was her best bet. Gathering her courage, she slipped on a pair of shoes and stepped out into the night.

The streets were even more unsettling in the dark. The lack of life, the absence of any sound, it all made her skin crawl. As she approached the convenience store, she noticed a faint glow in the distance. One of the large screens on a building near her apartment flickered to life. She stared in shock as bold, ominous words appeared.

'WELCOME, PLAYER. THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN A MOMENT.'

A chill ran down her spine. A game? What kind of game required the entire city to be empty? Her mind raced with questions, but there were no answers. She turned, spotting another screen further down the street, directing her to the "game arena."

Was this some kind of twisted experiment? A cruel joke? Or was she losing her mind? There was no way to know for sure, but one thing was clear: she had to find out.

Fear gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside, driven by a desperate need for answers. She followed the arrows on the screen, each step taking her further into the unknown. Her heart pounded in her chest, the pain flaring up again, but she ignored it. There was no turning back now.

The streets seemed to close in around her as she approached the designated area. What awaited her in the game arena? She couldn't even begin to imagine. But one thing was certain—this was only the beginning of a nightmare far worse than anything she could have ever dreamed of.