Awakening

I'm still alive.

Wait…I'm still alive!?

A sore ache from a stiff neck spread. I abruptly opened my eyes – sunlight cut in through the curtain gap, falling on the quilt. Fingers trembling, I touched my neck – the pain of sleeping wrong, the skin's warmth, the clear heartbeat...

"Time to get up!" Dad's voice came from outside the door, accompanied by the sound of slippers. The door pushed open gently; Mom entered with a stack of folded new clothes, carrying the scent of sunlight and laundry detergent, making me immensely peaceful. Such an ordinary morning, such a luxury miracle.

I was actually still alive. I was so incredibly grateful.

The lingering chill and reflections from the dream still flowed in my veins, but the current sunlight warmed my eyes to tears. The greatest mercy the "death world" gave me wasn't the downward reflection, but the first sight upon waking – my parents, whom I longed for when "dying."

This realization swept over me like a tide, bringing an almost painful clarity. In that fictional death world, I was forced to choose between letting go and carrying burdens: either burn memories to become scattered snow, or carry attachments forever trapped in the "what if" cage. But now, in this real morning, I suddenly understood: living itself is the most arrogant rebellion against death.

No need to let go, because every unfulfilled regret is a growth ring of life. No need to carry burdens, because every scar narrates the traces of existence. Those thoughts and emotions that made me toss and turn in the dream now surged in my veins. Bitterness settled, sweetness evaporated; living itself was immensely precious.

Morning light drifted into my palm, light as that unfinished dream. But this time, it didn't pass through my perhaps once-transparent fingertips, that soul's body, but truly stayed – just like all unfinished matters in life, eventually, in time's brewing, become the strength supporting us.

I closed my eyes, feeling the vibrant red pulsating on my eyelids – this body that can feel pain, will age, will eventually die, is now conducting the most magnificent uprising, singing its own song. Living is good; I genuinely felt that simple happiness. Besides the freedom of letting go and the rootedness of carrying burdens, I now have a very good alternative: to live well.

Grateful for our lives, so fervent.

When reading the final story chapter, I suggest quietly wearing headphones and listening to this song I really like, 

KOKIA's "クルマレテ".

Lyrics (translated):

Prowling the edge of dreams

The universe gently closes its eyes and becomes a tranquil cosmos

Moon shadows sway, the night is deep

Forget all worries

Trekking under starlight, reaching the other side of the galaxy

In an instant, it's as if returning to childhood

Drifting in that deep, eternal

Whirlpool of the Milky Way

Just like this, holding, embraced by this brilliant galaxy

May you grow up happy and joyful

Accompanied by falling stars, just counting like this

Quietly falling asleep

Lovely child

When sleeping

Listen to the whispers of the moon and stars

The guardian deity's light surrounds you

Gently holding you, lovely child

Quietly slumber in my embrace

Sleep peacefully, just like in childhood

Slowly, the world also quiets down

Until eternity