Nara woke up seven minutes before the alarm went off.
She didn't get up right away. For a while, she only stared at the ceiling of her room, whose color was already difficult to call white. Outside, motorcycles passed by one after another. Someone upstairs dropped something, then swore under their breath.
Her phone buzzed on the floor near the leg of the table.
Nara reached for it without changing position. A new message had arrived from her boss's number.
“Starting today, you don't need to come in anymore.”
She read the message twice. Not because she didn't understand it, but because the sentence felt like something that might change if she read it long enough.
There was a second message beneath it.
“We'll discuss your final paycheck and your belongings later.”
Nara turned off the screen.
Seven minutes later, the alarm went off.
She let it keep ringing until the sound stopped on its own.
Her rented room wasn't large. The bed was pushed against the wall, a folding table stood beside the window, and a plastic wardrobe leaned slightly to one side because one of its legs had been propped up with an instant-noodle box. On the table was a glass of water she'd started drinking yesterday morning and left half-finished.
Nara sat up. Her head felt heavy, though she wasn't sure whether it was from lack of sleep or because she hadn't eaten all morning.
She opened her banking app. The remaining balance made her start calculating without realizing it.
Room rent: twenty-three days left. Electricity bill: unpaid. Food: dependent on how often she managed to say no to hunger.
She closed the app before the numbers could turn into something bigger than she was.
In the shared kitchenette, the landlady was washing dishes. She turned when Nara walked past.
“Heading to work?”
Nara paused. “No, ma’am. I'm off today.”
She didn't know why she lied. Maybe saying she'd been fired would make the whole thing sound real. Maybe the landlady would ask questions, and Nara had no answer she could give without opening up too much.
“Then have some breakfast first. I made eggs.”
“No, ma'am. I already ate.”
Her stomach rumbled softly.
The landlady looked at her, then at the pot on the stove. She didn't say she'd heard it.
“There's too much egg,” she said. “It'll go to waste if you don't eat it.”
Nara almost smiled. Almost.
She sat in a plastic chair and accepted a plate of rice and an omelet with slightly burnt edges. The landlady went back to washing dishes, giving Nara a chance to eat without having to say thank you too many times.
Every bite tasted bland, but she finished it.
Afterward, Nara went back to her room and opened her laptop. She searched for job openings. Barista, cashier, online store clerk, booth attendant. Some required experience, some required a diploma, and some required a photo in which she looked cheerful.
She stared at her own face in the screen, lit by the window.
“Look cheerful,” she muttered.
Nara tried to smile.
The result made her close the laptop immediately.
Near noon, her boss called. Nara let the call end. Five minutes later, a second call came in. She answered on the last ring.
“I'm sorry, Nara,” said the voice on the other end. “This was the store owner's decision. It wasn't just me.”
“It's okay.”
“You can pick up your things tomorrow. If you want, come after the store closes.”
“Okay.”
“Nara.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you doing all right?”
The question was simple. That was exactly why Nara didn't know how to answer it.
“I'm fine,” she said at last.
She always used that sentence when she didn't want someone to wait for the real answer.
That afternoon, Nara walked to a convenience store. She bought instant noodles, laundry soap, and a loaf of bread that was nearly expired. At the register, she saw a small rack of cat food.
A striped cat sat near the automatic doors. Its body was thin, its tail held halfway up, as if it didn't even want to look too hopeful while asking for food.
Nara stepped outside with her plastic bag. The cat followed her as far as the corner of the building.
“Don't follow me,” she said.
The cat meowed.
Nara kept walking. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back. The cat was still there.
She went back to the convenience store, bought a packet of cat food, and poured it into the lid of a plastic container she'd found near the trash can. The cat approached cautiously.
Nara crouched on the sidewalk, watching the animal eat.
“Don't wait for me tomorrow,” she said.
The cat didn't answer. It only kept eating, as if Nara's words weren't something it needed to believe.
Night fell before Nara realized it. In her room, she turned on the light, boiled noodles, then sat on the edge of the bed listening to the sound of the water coming to a boil.
Tomorrow, she had to go to the store to pick up her things.
After that, she didn't know what to do.
Nara opened her phone. There were no new messages. She opened her contacts, scrolled slowly, then stopped at a name she hadn't contacted in eight months: Raka.
Her thumb hovered over the name for a long time.
She didn't press the call button.
Instead, she opened the notes app on her phone and wrote:
“Buy cat food tomorrow.”
Nara stared at the sentence. The reason was small, almost ridiculous. Not enough to solve any of her problems. Not enough to suddenly make her life better.
But the reason was there.
She added another line.
“Go to the store tomorrow.”
Then, after thinking for a long time, she wrote a third line.
“Get up tomorrow.”
Nara placed her phone beside her pillow. For the first time that day, she turned off the light before she actually felt like sleeping.
Outside the window, a cat meowed once.
Nara opened her eyes in the dark.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered.
She didn't know whom she was making the promise to.
But that night, she made the promise anyway.