Echoes

Riku awoke back in his bed, the mattress somehow stifling and wrong, as if insomnia had clung to his skin. Sweat pooled in the hollows of his collarbones, the slickness making it more uncomfortable than the shrine's grass and water. 

He sat up slowly, the churn in his stomach faint, almost forgettable. The pulsing of his head was gone too, for now at least. 

He looked around. The blue-painted walls and the unkempt posters of his favorite band were still there. His favorite purple shirt and white shorts were on. He was very much back in his home. 

How he got there though, was what he was unsure of. The last thing he could remember was the shrine. 

The shrine.

That statue's raised head. The small, bent figures that lined the edges of the shrine. It was all coming back to him now. But beyond all of that, that reflection.

Was that me I really saw in there? Riku had thought back to what he saw in the idol's eyes. That person, donning those black and gold layered robes, sleeveless, but flowing like silk. 

That smile. That knowing wave. 

It wasn't cruel. It was... patient. Like it had seen the end of a story he hadn't even begun reading.

He dared not believe it was him. I mean, he looked crazy enough already. Then it hit him. 

He glanced at his hand. The symbol—no, the eye—was still there, etched like a scar across his palm. It pulsed faintly under his skin, as if watching him.

F***! How did I even get this? How the hell do I get this off? In his stupor, Riku didn't even care about the fact he had returned back to his home without an explanation. 

He shot up from his bed and ran to the bathroom. The cool water of the sink flowing from the faucet, did nothing to remove the mark on his hand, or alleviate the aggressive thumping in his heart. If anything, it was burning more.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! Why isn't it working? What's wrong with me?!

He stared into the mirror. His face looked pale. Tired. But behind his reflection—just for a flash—he saw it again:

That figure.

Gold-and-black robed, still smiling, a phantom in the glass.

The lights snapped off.

Riku leapt back. Breathing hard.

The lights flicked back on.

Empty.

The mirror showed only himself. Alone. Drenched.

Shaking, he returned to his room.

The digital clock on his nightstand blinked: 00:00.

His phone was dead. No signal. No charger nearby.

What is going on? Am I dead? Is this a dream? Why is everything so screwed up?

And then, he noticed something odd.

A book. It hadn't been there before.

He picked it up, fingertips tingling as he touched the cover. The leather was too soft, like worn skin.

"Echoes of the Silent God – A Collection of Forgotten Prayers."

His heart skipped, as he opened it.

Blank pages?

Suddenly, words began to form on the page he touched:

"You remember the shrine. Excellent. Memory is the cornerstone of story."

The ink bled like mist across the parchment, blooming in slow, deliberate strokes, as though the page was thinking through every letter before committing to the sentence.

Riku recoiled slightly, the book slipping from his hands and landing with a dull thud on his carpet.

"What kind of prank-"

He stopped. No one else had access to his room. The windows were latched. The landlord wasn't expected to be up and about so early either.

No friends had visited. The house was silent, save for the buzz of the ceiling light.

He picked the book back up, and it responded again.

"You hesitate. That's good. Doubt is a healthy start to belief."

The letters faded away like water drying on parchment, vanishing into the page until it looked blank again.

Riku sank down into the corner of his room, head in his hands.

He started shaking, like all hell was breaking lose.

He hadn't slept properly since the shrine, hadn't eaten since... yesterday? Or was it the day before? Time twisted behind the fog in his head. His mind told him it had been hours. His gut said longer. The pulsing mark on his palm said time didn't matter anymore.

Was this a hallucination? The symptom of some curse? Psychosis?

"You're losing it man... You're losing it! Get a grip, damn it!" 

He clenched his hand shut.

No pain. Not exactly.

Just heat. A slow, sinking warmth that made his skin feel thin.

He breathed in. Out.

Nothing about him was abnormal. He was there. Just... himself. Still Riku Shinsora. Still some loser who stayed up too late and tried to find meaning in urban legends. Still a boy who wanted to laugh with his friend in this crazy world. 

His eyes widened.

His friend.

"Oh God... No, no, no!"

He darted to his closet, yanked his hoodie off the hanger, barely got one sleeve on as he tripped over his own shoes and ran barefoot out of the room.

Downstairs. Shoes. Backpack. Front door.

The morning air was crisp. Real.

Too real. Tangible, almost.

There was dew on the grass, its smell filling his nostrils. Cars in driveways. Wind rustling leaves across the pavement. Everything was the same.

For now. 

He stood still, chest heaving. Just... breathe.

"Yo, Riku!" someone called.

He turned.

There, waiting just outside his gate, was his classmate: Tetsuya, hair messy as always, backpack slung on one shoulder, yawning mid-wave.

"You coming to school or what? The bell's gonna ring in, like, ten."

Riku blinked. Stared.

Alive. Whole. Normal.

"I—" Riku started, voice rough. "Yeah. I just... slept in."

Tetsuya smiled. "I can tell. You alright? Your ass looks pale, like you saw a ghost."

I saw something worse.

But he just nodded. "Something like that, I guess."

As he stepped out and fell into stride beside his friend, a breeze passed between them. Soft. Harmless.

"You ever wonder," Tetsuya said suddenly, eyes distant, "what the Silent God really sounded like? Lately I've been thinking... if I could just hear their voice... maybe I'd understand something. Like everything would make sense, y'know?"

Riku froze.

Tetsuya didn't notice. He kept walking with a dumb grin on his face.

How did he know about that? Was he going through what I went through this morning? No... he looks like everything is just sunshine and rainbows! Am I insane?

"What did you just say?" Riku asked.

"Hmm? Me? Nothing." Tetsuya walked on with that smile on his face; the grin eliciting anger and worry within Riku. 

"You said something... about the Silent God?" Riku responded. 

"Huh? What's that?" Tetsuya looked as if he had no idea in the world of Riku was talking about. 

What? He just—!

"Honestly, man, you sure you're okay? You're sounding crazy." 

Riku wanted to shout. He wanted to shake the man in front of him and scream the same words back, but he knew something was wrong. At this point, he was too tired to argue. 

The breeze stopped.

The cicadas went silent.

And the mark on Riku's palm began to burn again.