Joceka didn't appear every night.
That scared Haru more than his presence.
Sometimes, Haru would sit alone, waiting,
wondering if he had imagined everything.
But then…
the world would slip.
At school, Haru suddenly heard whispers that weren't real.
At home, his mother's words echoed longer than they should.
"Why can't you be normal?"
That sentence repeated in his mind.
That was when Joceka returned.
"You're reaching your limit," Joceka said.
Haru clenched his fists.
"I'm trying," he whispered.
"I know," Joceka replied.
"That's why this exists."
The world around Haru bent.
The classroom walls faded,
and in their place stood a wide, empty space.
A city.
Abandoned. Silent. Colorless.
"What is this?" Haru asked, his voice shaking.
"A place where pain doesn't follow you," Joceka said.
"A place you can breathe."
Haru took one step forward.
And the city welcomed him.
Far away, something moved in the shadows.
Something that was watching…
and waiting.
Haru stood in the abandoned city, his breath heavy.
The silence here wasn't empty.
It was listening.
"Is this real?" Haru asked quietly.
Joceka didn't answer immediately.
"Does it hurt less?" he finally replied.
Haru looked around.
No voices.
No comparisons.
No judgment.
Just him… and the city.
"I feel lighter," Haru admitted.
"That's because this place is made from what you couldn't say," Joceka said.
"Every step you take here… is a step you were never allowed to take there."
Haru clenched his fist.
"Then I'll stay."
The ground trembled.
Far in the distance, a shape moved between collapsed buildings.
Large.
Heavy.
Watching.
Joceka's tone changed.
"Haru… not everything here exists to protect you."
A low sound echoed through the city.
Almost like breathing.
And for the first time,
Haru understood something terrifying.
This world wasn't just hiding him from pain.
It was testing him