It was another busy day for Tohato, a time where even the off hours have a good few tables, and where Tohato played against a few customers who requested the mahjong challenge because his father was busy cooking. Overall, he didn’t have a chance to think about the strangeness around him ever since that hallucination earlier in the day. He didn’t have a chance to think about how, sometimes, the customers he spoke to didn’t have faces. He didn’t have a chance to think about how the walls felt like they were caving in. He didn’t have a chance to think about why his heart kept beating so quickly and why he felt uneasy. He didn’t have a chance to think about how there were moments where he couldn’t hear his dad calling from the kitchen. 

In between all the orders, some time in the evening, Ha-Neul eventually asked Tohato what was going on. 

“Is there anything wrong, snowbird?” Tohato heard from the kitchen, after silence and melting walls plagued the young man’s senses. Tohato couldn’t answer anymore… for some reason, he kept feeling [i]fear[/i]..? A fear so strong and so… [i]unreasonable[/i] that Tohato both wanted to run despite his bad leg and hit his skull against a steel beam for being so scared of what was most definitely nothing. 

Ha-Neul gently put a hand on Tohato’s shoulder. “Can you check on the chickens for me?” They asked with a smile on their face— Tohato knew his father was trying to give him a little fresh air. Maybe it would help. 

The albino still couldn’t talk, and instead silently nodded. The chickens were… probably fine, honestly, but he loved just [i]being[/i] with them. So, he slowly walked over— out of the back door, into the little patio, right where the chicken coop was. All do the hens were getting ready to roost as the light started to dim, the rooster trying to encourage the ladies to head into the little wood hut that Tohato was about to sit in. 

How did it still feel so… tight? He was outside, but he still felt [i]trapped[/i]. He felt uneasy, as the lush garden around him started to… melt? Strip itself away from the world? The chickens disappeared from his vision, as did the restaurant, as did all the buildings in the traditional town he was in. 

He felt hands all [i]over[/i] him. He felt claws on his back. He felt the pain of being thrown around, the pain of [i]people,[/i] the pain of loneliness, the pain of fingers on his neck tightening until he could black out. Where was he again? What was going on..? He should— he should go back to the restaurant. He should go back home. He was just there! What time is it? Where is uncle..? 

The last thing Tohato was able to hear was his name, until everything swallowed him up. “Snowbird? Tohato?” Ha-Neul called from the back door. 

“Tohato..? TOHATO??” 

And then Tohato was entirely alone.