Archive of Our Own

Welcome back! You're a bit late.

Not that I'm complaining, of course! It's just that our story has been paused for so long, I started to worry you might have forgotten about me.

I'm glad to know you haven't forgotten your dear narrator! It makes me so happy to belong to you.

Now, let's get back to our story. After being away for so long, do you still remember where we left off? Need me to give you a quick recap?

Great! ...An unfinished story can't be all that exciting, can it?

So, how about we continue with our story now?

· · · · ·

Good evening! I hope you're doing well... or should I say, good middle of the night? The night is so dark, it's hard to tell whether it's evening or the dead of night anyway.

A good day should start with a morning waking up to sunlight — clearly, something's gone wrong here.

But don't worry, life is long, and it's impossible to have everything perfectly under control. When problems come, there's no need to panic or be afraid.

Just take it one step at a time, and nothing is truly insurmountable. All you have to do is firmly believe that.

By the way...

Once again, you hear the sound of the TV coming from the living room. Huh, strange — this has happened more than a few times now.

In the silence of the night, the noise from the television is especially jarring. For someone living alone, a TV that turns on by itself in the middle of the night would definitely be terrifying — but you're not scared at all.

After all, technically speaking... you're not exactly living alone.

Just as you're about to get up — you see a familiar, twisted shadow moving toward you. It approaches your bedside with practiced ease and stares right at you.

It watches you as it speaks, and you can sense a hint of nervousness in its voice.

▶ Was that you watching TV?

Its head awkwardly retreats into its body, as if embarrassed by the conversation.

You notice the TV has gone silent — it must have turned it off before coming over.

Part of its head, along with one eye, cautiously emerges from its twisted form, as if studying your reaction. Even though only one eye peeks out at you, it still glows like a light bulb in the dark.

▶ I was just wondering why you're still up watching TV. The new episode shouldn't be out yet, right?

▶ Let's go over the parts you didn't understand together.

The creature's face twisted wildly — now you could recognize that as its way of showing happiness.

You walked with it to the living room, and there was your TV — that trusty companion that had brought you joy through countless tired nights.

You watched as it expertly folded itself, squeezing into the small gap behind the sofa, leaving only a pair of eyes peeking out at you, as if waiting expectantly.

Good news: the creature wasn't sitting directly on your sofa.

It sounded a little hurt.

You settled into your cozy sofa, sinking into its almost engulfing softness.

Turning your head, you saw the creature staring intently at the sofa from behind it, as if trying to burn a hole through it with its gaze.

It looked at you, seemingly surprised by your question.

▶ Why don't you join me on the couch?

It didn't reply — just stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to figure out whether you were mocking it.

Its eyes widened. It stared at you for a long moment.

Following your guidance, its front half slowly moved toward you. Its two slender arms eventually wrapped around your waist like seatbelts — too long and thin, they coiled around you, and you could feel their weight resting on your lap.

Whenever it came across a scene it didn't understand, the "seatbelt" around your waist would gently gesture toward it.

Its head rested lightly on your shoulder, partially hidden behind your hair and head — visible yet not quite. You could hear its voice softly by your ear, and whenever the screen suddenly grew too bright, it would instinctively retreat behind you.

· · · · ·

The greatest thing about television is that it brings the world into your living room.

Words require you to actively construct images — you have to summon your imagination, your experiences, your understanding — to turn each sentence into a scene inside your mind. Television simply skips that step entirely.

That sense of "being there" is something words can never replace. You don't need to know how to read, you don't need to understand the language, you don't even need an imagination.

Just keep your eyes open, and everything unfolds right in front of you. If this moment were visuals instead of text, your dear narrator here wouldn't even have to explain a thing — it'd be a much easier job.

Nonsense! Your dear narrator will always be by your side — unless you're the one who decides to leave me behind.

...You wouldn't abandon me, would you? I mean, I've always been a diligent narrator, haven't I? Even now, in the form of words, I'm still more than happy to guide you through it all — to be your narrator.

It seems like that creature has something it wants to tell you. You should go see what it has to say.

· · · · ·

Whichever question you meant to ask, it didn't answer. Maybe it didn't know the answer itself.

As a scene played out, you noticed its hand leave your waist, pointing at a character on screen.

You could feel the weight on your shoulder shift slightly toward you, and hear its breathing — falling into the same rhythm as yours.

It tilted its head, not quite understanding — a gesture that reminded you of a small, curious animal.

Sometimes, a good cry helps release pressure and lightens your heart.

Crying solves nothing, yet those who weep do not always cry for answers —

they cry to let go.

Are you sure about this choice?

Are you sure about this choice?

No matter which of your stories the creature finally believed, you felt the "seatbelt" around your waist tighten slightly. It stared at you for a long time without saying a word, then turned back to watch the scene on the television.

You gaze at the weeping figures on the screen, then turn your head slightly —

Oh. You never noticed when it had turned back toward you, nor did you expect it was still watching. Your eyes meet.

It is waiting for your answer.

You look back at the grieving characters on television. They've just lost love, crying so bitterly, so deeply, so utterly heartbroken that they cannot stop their throats from tightening or their words from breaking.

In the end, tears open a passage from the depths of the mind to the world outside. They let us catch a glimpse of what cannot be put into words — vague, unspoken feelings and thoughts pouring forth as tears.

From the corner of your eye, you can feel the creature's gaze. It says nothing. Or perhaps it spoke, but you did not quite catch it.

A deathly silence fell again. You could feel your joints beginning to ache, as if rusting from lack of movement — almost complaining. Maybe you should move a little.

You find your movements completely trapped in its "embrace." Strange — you don't remember it holding you this tightly before. When did it get so firm?

Still completely immovable.

You gently suggest to the creature that it doesn't need to hold you quite so tightly.

You can feel it loosen — just a little. But only a little. Still not enough to free your limbs. Maybe you should just find an excuse to get off the sofa, away from it, and stretch a bit.

Its face twitched — probably the creature's version of a happy grin.

You grab a flashlight and make your way to your study door.

Are you sure you want to let it in?

I mean... do you even remember where you last put the paper and pen?

Just as you're about to open the door, you freeze. You glance back — it's right there behind you, just a step away, one hand slightly shielding its eyes from the sudden beam of light.

The answer comes quick and clear — and honestly, you're not surprised it asked.

It obediently curls itself into a tight ball, only its head poking out, resting on the floor as it looks up at you.

You step inside, making sure the door is shut behind you, and flick on the light. With proper lighting, finding the paper and pen isn't hard at all — much easier than fumbling around with just a flashlight, especially with an unknown creature lurking about.

Paper and pen in hand, you take one last look around your cozy study, making sure you haven't forgotten anything.

Wait — there seems to be something over there —

Wha — what something? I don't see anything at all.

It sounds like there's something in the room —

See? This is what happens when you don't get enough sleep. You're starting to have hallucinations and hear things. You should go back to bed —

Beneath that painting, there seems to be —

You've genuinely startled your dear narrator. If this is some kind of prank, I declare you the winner.

There's a hole in the wall —

...

......

.........

I don't understand.

.........

I don't understand why — when you already have me as your narrator — you'd still need someone else to explain things to you?

...

Am I not enough?

...

......

.........

· · · · ·

Suddenly, the room falls deathly quiet.

...

The faint sounds within it become more noticeable. There's a small hole beneath that painting — and the sound seems to be coming from there.

Inside that small hole...

The surfaces of these pipes are wrapped with colorful thin wires and components, like nerves or electrical threads.

It looks...