And Then, The World Ended

Chapter 7 Hayes

The music is still playing in my head as we stumble out of the nightclub, laughter spilling into the cool Neo-Shinjuku night. The lights flicker, illuminating our faces, but something feels off. Noah lags behind, his shoulders hunched, scanning the street like he's searching for something he can't quite name.

"Hey!" I call, trying to reel him back into our little adventure. "You good?"

He forces a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, just... a lot happening, you know?"

I nod. The city around us—strangers weaving through the crowd, voices rising and falling in a symphony of excitement. But Noah seems to be caught in some kind of haze. I want to pull him out of it, remind him how alive we are right now.

Jordan leans in, whispering to Sophie about a street food place nearby that's open late. Their laughter feels distant as I watch Noah drift further away. Memories tug at me—back to Boston City, where I used to feel just as lost in my own world.

"Want to explore a bit?" I ask Noah again, stepping closer. "The night's still young."

"I think I need a minute," he replies softly, gaze fixed on the sidewalk.

I swallow hard, unsure if pushing him will help or hurt. "Alright."

I take a step back and let him breathe. It's strange watching him struggle when he should be soaking up this vibrant city—the lights, the energy—all of it should be intoxicating.

Sophie catches my eye and raises an eyebrow. She knows something's off too; she always does.

"We could grab some street food," she suggests gently, nudging Noah's arm. "You love them!"

He manages a weak chuckle but doesn't budge.

The nostalgia hits me like a wave; moments from my past mingle with the present. All those nights spent yearning for something more than what Boston City offered—a connection that felt electric and real.

Noah shifts his weight from one foot to another as if he's wrestling with his own thoughts. Jordan starts talking about our plans for tomorrow—visiting temples and markets—but I can tell Noah's not fully there with us.

This tension hangs thick in the air between us, unspoken words swirling around like cherry blossoms caught in the wind.

"Let's just sit for a second," I suggest finally, pointing toward a bench nearby draped in soft shadows.

Noah nods slowly and follows me there. As we sit down together under streetlights, the reality of our journey starts settling back over us like an old blanket—warm yet heavy with expectations yet to unfold.

The laughter from Jordan and Sophie fades into background noise as I turn to Noah. He stares out at the crowd, eyes glazed over.

"Hey," I nudge him gently. "What's going on?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... I'm feeling a little sad."

"Really?" I lean closer, curiosity piqued. "But this place is amazing!"

"I know." He chuckles softly.

"My family... they adopted me when I was a baby," he confesses, voice barely above a whisper. "My heritage is Japanese, but I've never really connected with it."

His words hang heavy between us, filled with unspoken emotions.

"Never met my birth parents," he continues, vulnerability breaking through his usual guardedness. "Sometimes I wish I could understand more of where I came from."