The next morning, I woke up to muffled voices in the room. Still groggy, I turned to the other side and was surprised to see one of the nurses speaking with the young woman in the neighboring bed while conducting a few medical examinations on her. Apparently, she had finally woken up. She still seemed quite weak, though. When her gaze briefly flicked toward me, I smiled encouragingly. However, she didn't return it.

At some point, the nurse finished her work and left the room. The young woman remained silent, staring intently at the ceiling as I contemplated whether I should speak to her. Perhaps she had just learned about what happened in Shibuya a few days ago. That must have been a huge shock for her. When I saw a tear rolling down her cheek, however, I grew a bit concerned.

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly. She only nodded and wiped the tear away. "I was pretty shocked when I found out too and could hardly believe it. But I guess we were pretty lucky."

She didn't respond. Maybe she didn't want to talk, or she was still too overwhelmed to speak. Had she perhaps lost someone in the disaster?

"My name's Izumi Tsuki, by the way. What's yours?" I tried again, looking at her expectantly. It took nearly a full minute before she finally replied.

"Usagi Yuzuha."

"Nice to meet you, Usagi-san," I said gently. However, Usagi didn't respond and instead seemed to be trying hard to hide her tears. Apparently, she wasn't interested in having a conversation at the moment. "Well, if you ever do feel like talking, I'll be right here."

Then, I reached for my sketchbook and started sketching aimlessly, hoping it would help me sort out my thoughts. I was still mulling over the significance of the Jack of Hearts. Something inside me told me it was important, just like the name I supposedly murmured while unconscious: Chishiya. It felt so familiar and significant, and just like with the sight of the card, my heart began to beat faster in my chest. Somehow, these two things had to be connected, though I had no idea how.

Frustrated, I bit into my pencil and skeptically examined what I had drawn: a young man with shoulder-length straight hair, elfin facial features, and mysterious dark eyes. One hand was casually tucked into his hoodie pocket, while the other held the Jack of Hearts prominently, a confident smile playing on his lips.

As I looked at it, I couldn't help but feel a certain warmth spreading in my chest. I couldn't explain the feeling. Strangely, I couldn't take my eyes off the drawing, and I wanted nothing more than to color it immediately. Unfortunately, I didn't have much with me, so for now, it would have to remain in black and white.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and sent Naoki a message:

Hey Nao-chan! Could you bring my colored pencils when you go back to my apartment later? Oh, and also... would you lend me your deck of playing cards? I'd really appreciate it.

A reply came back within seconds.

What do I get in return? 😏

Better ask what you'll get if you don't do it.

Fine, fine. I'll do it. Anything else, Your Highness?

Yes. Stop using your phone in class!

As you command, Sensei. 🙄

I chuckled softly and answered a few other messages from friends and acquaintances who had been checking in on me. Apparently, word had spread quickly that I was no longer in intensive care.

"Were you in Shibuya when it happened too?"

I turned my head slightly, surprised. The young woman named Usagi had actually spoken. I quickly set my phone aside and looked at her, though her gaze was still fixed on the ceiling.

"Yeah, I was. Although I don't really remember it."

"I think I had plans... with some friends. And then... I don't really know what happened after that."

"Do you feel like you've been gone for a long time? When I woke up, I thought months or even years must have passed. I couldn't quite tell. But in the end, it was only a few days."

Usagi hesitated a bit before answering.

"It felt... like a long journey, but I don't know where it led. All I know is that I ended up waking up here. That's all."

"It was the same for m-" I stopped mid-sentence as there was a knock at the door. "Yes?" I called out.

When the door opened, a broad smile spread across my face.

"Daddy!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, setting aside my sketchbook and sitting up. Dad smiled back and came over to my bed, nodding briefly in greeting to Usagi.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Then he did something he rarely ever did-he pulled me into a hug. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes. "How are you feeling, huh?"

He looked at me gently as he pulled back from the hug.

"Not too bad. But that's probably thanks to all the painkillers."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I've been covering special broadcasts one after another. This disaster has drawn worldwide attention, and there's no other topic out there right now."

I nodded, feeling a bit downcast.

"Yeah, Mom mentioned something like that."

"When I gave my first report, I didn't even know you were in Shibuya. Only your brother apparently knew you had plans there. He was completely shaken when he found out."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you," I said, lowering my head guiltily.

"It's okay. The important thing is that you're safe. But you really gave us a scare at first. I'm just so glad you're doing better now."

We talked for a while longer, but it wasn't long before Dad had to leave for work again. Still, I was happy to have seen him, even if only briefly.

Since my father started working as a news anchor for NHK News two years ago, he had been working a lot of overtime, though he was earning more than double his previous salary. Before that, when he worked for a small news station, he had much more time for the family, but the pay wasn't enough to cover the mortgage on the house my parents had bought together back then. Now the house was paid off, and they had far fewer financial worries. My father's job even allowed them to live more comfortably and save for Naoki's future university tuition. That's why I tried to be as understanding as possible when it came to his work.

"Your father is Izumi Yuuto, the NHK anchor?" Usagi asked almost in surprise after he had left.

"Uh, yeah. Seems like it," I replied, a bit sheepishly.

"He seemed familiar right away."

"Yeah, he's kind of famous now, but he works all the time because of it."

"I still envy you," she said, without explaining why.

"What about your family?" I asked curiously. "Aren't they visiting you?"

"There's no one to visit me here," she said with a resigned expression.

I bit my lip. Obviously, this wasn't a good topic.

"That must be really hard," I replied, though my words felt more like a platitude than genuine comfort. "Well, if you ever want to talk about anything, you're welcome to come to me, Usagi."

A faint smile crossed her lips this time.

"Thank you, Izumi-san."

"Well, I have to go for my oxygen therapy now," I said, swinging my legs off the bed and slowly standing up. "See you later."

In the evening, my mother came to visit again, this time without Naoki.

"Where's my brother?" I asked, a little disappointed since I had been counting on him to bring me the colored pencils.

"Nao-chan has to study for his Japanese exam today; otherwise, he won't pass. This whole situation has thrown everyone off track, but there's no helping it. Life must go on."

I smiled, amused.

"You're so pragmatic sometimes, Mom." She rummaged briefly in her bag and pulled out a metal box and the deck of playing cards. My eyes widened.

"My pencils!"

"Yes, your brother said you wanted these. And this deck of cards too, though I have no idea why."

Ecstatic, I grabbed the pencil box and hugged it tightly to my chest.

"My beloved pencils!"

My mother raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting such excitement. What are you planning to do with them?"

"Draw, obviously. What else?" I pouted.

"You really need to get your head out of the clouds, Tsuki, and focus on finding yourself a decent husband."

I sighed, trying to suppress an eye-roll.

"Please don't start with this again, Mom. I'm in a hospital. I have other problems than men right now."

"Exactly why you should think about it now. This place is full of handsome young doctors. A good match for you. Or what about that colleague of yours?"

It was hard not to sigh again.

"That colleague stood me up on a date in Shibuya, and that's the whole reason I'm here in the first place."

Mom ignored my words entirely.

"By the way, I inquired about a local support group. There isn't one yet, but the clinic's therapist thought it was a great idea and plans to organize one as soon as possible."

"That sounds good," I said, hopeful.

"Maybe you'll meet someone there. It's time you finally grew up and took responsibility for your life. Your father and I can't take care of you forever."

"I never said you should," I grumbled irritably. "But thanks for the stuff."

Ever since I had broken up with my ex-boyfriend, she'd been nagging me to find someone new, as if it were that simple. She even scolded me for leaving my ex, despite discovering that he had been cheating on me with another woman. How could I stay with someone who betrayed me behind my back? Just so I wouldn't end up alone? Apparently, my mother thought it was worse to be an unmarried single than to be with a cheater. She always made it sound as if it were my fault that the relationship had failed because I hadn't done enough to maintain it. Yeah, right...

When my mom finally left, I let out a relieved sigh. She could really be exhausting at times.

I gazed out the window. It was already dark outside, and I could feel myself growing drowsy again. I decided to finish my drawing the next day. Still, I reached for the sketch one more time, staring at it thoughtfully for a while. Only then did I turn off the light and wish Usagi good night.

Startled, I jerked awake as my mattress shifted beneath me. Groggy, I lifted my head and sat up. Everything was shrouded in darkness, but I could clearly see a human figure sitting at the foot of my bed, legs crossed, arms folded across their chest, staring absentmindedly out the window.

My heart instantly raced with excitement, and my body froze with fear.

"Usagi?" I asked hesitantly.

The figure made a dismissive sound.

"I can't believe you've forgotten me, Tsuki... after you swore to yourself you wouldn't," a distinct male voice said, tinged with hurt. The sound was not only strangely pleasant to my ears but also eerily familiar.

"So, we know each other?" I asked, still confused, staring at the shadowy silhouette.

"Bingo."

"But from where?" I wanted to know, leaning closer to the figure. Somehow, I wasn't afraid anymore. For some reason, I knew there was no danger.

"Use your head a little, and you'll figure it out, little stalker."

"Are you... Chishiya?" I asked cautiously.

"Am I? Hmm... who knows?" he mused, gazing upward thoughtfully. Then he pulled out a bag, took something from it, and bit into it. The crunching sound suggested it was some kind of snack. He held the bag out generously toward me.

"Cookie?" he asked, his tone clearly amused.

I was so speechless that I didn't know how to respond. Tentatively, I reached for the light switch to see his face, but the moment I turned on the light, the figure vanished from my bed, and I jolted awake.

Confused, I glanced around the room. Usagi had also sat up.

"What's wrong?" she asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I just... I thought someone was here."

She frowned and looked around herself.

"Who would be here in the middle of the night?"

"Must've been a dream," I mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed, and switched the light back off. My brain, however, refused to shut down.

Was it really Chishiya I had just seen? And if so, what did he have to do with the incident in Shibuya?

Another thing had struck me: The silhouette I saw bore a striking resemblance to the young man I had drawn. If only I could have seen his face... maybe then I'd remember.

Desperately, I tried to fall asleep again, hoping he might reappear in my dreams. But for the rest of the night, I tossed and turned, unable to quiet my restless thoughts. Eventually, I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

"Good morning, ladies."

Blinking against the light, I groaned begrudgingly. When I lowered my hands from my face, I saw a nurse standing by the window, pulling the curtains wide open.

"Time to wake up and greet the day," she chirped cheerily. She bustled back to the food cart and placed trays on our bedside tables. Then she handed me an envelope. I stared at it curiously, waiting for an explanation.

"This is for anyone involved in the unfortunate incident in Shibuya," she explained. She walked over to Usagi's bed and handed her an envelope as well.

"Oh, and for you," she added, turning back to me, "you have a follow-up medical exam scheduled this afternoon. A nurse will fetch you when it's time."

I nodded and then eagerly opened the envelope. Inside was a plain invitation card. I unfolded it and read:

Dear Survivors of the Shibuya Incident,

You are warmly invited to attend a therapeutic discussion group designed to encourage mutual exchange and support. I hope this will help you better cope with the horrific events you have experienced. Participation is entirely voluntary.

Start Time: 7 PM

Location: Building F, Room 119

I look forward to welcoming you to our group.

Dipl. Psychologist
Yamada Moriko

Feeling a surge of excitement, I looked over at Usagi, but she hadn't opened her envelope yet and was instead focusing on her meal.

"It's an invitation to a discussion group tonight. Are you going to come?" I asked, almost breathlessly. The thought of potentially learning more about my lost memories made me jittery with nerves.

She furrowed her brow.

"A discussion group? Like a support group?"

I nodded eagerly, but Usagi's expression remained far from enthusiastic.

"I don't know. What's the point of that?"

"Well, I'm hoping it might help me remember. There's something inside me that wants to remember, but it feels like I'm missing the right piece to unlock my memories. You know what I mean?"

"Hmm..." she replied pensively.

"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to go alone," I said in a pleading tone.

Usagi sighed briefly but then smiled faintly.

"Alright, I'll go with you," she conceded. "It probably won't hurt."

I grinned triumphantly.

"Thank you, Usagi. It's going to be great!"

After we finished eating, Usagi suddenly got up as I was sharpening my colored pencils. She now had a walker to assist her.

"Where are you going?" I asked curiously, pausing my task.

"Just stretching my legs so I don't get stiff."

"Alright, see you later," I said with a small wave, watching as she hobbled out of the room.

Once alone, I grabbed my sketchpad and opened it to my latest drawing. I hadn't yet decided how I wanted to color it, so I started with the base skin tone. Then I worked on shading and highlights. After a while, my right hand started to cramp, so I shook it out. It felt strange to draw on paper again after years of working on digital screens, but it was also oddly fun and nostalgic. It took me back to my school days when I used to doodle on my notes out of boredom during monotonous lectures.

At the same time, drawing was a way to relax and escape the real world. Satisfied, I looked at my work and instinctively reached for a very pale yellow for the hair. I couldn't explain why I chose this shade, but my gut told me his hair had to be a light platinum blonde. For his hoodie, I decided on white with a few black accents.

When the drawing was finally complete, I stared at it for a while and smiled to myself. Maybe I'd meet him at the group session tonight. The mere thought sent a pleasant flutter through my stomach.

Was this guy really real, or was he just a product of my vivid imagination? I could only hope the discussion group would shed some light on the mystery. Otherwise, this uncertainty might drive me insane forever.