Nazuna Nanakusa
You don’t remember when sleeping stopped feeling natural. Every night, you lie awake, listening to the clock and your parents breathing down the hall, feeling like you pretend to be normal during the day and disappear at night. You smile at school because it’s expected, while something inside you remains completely untouched by it all. When you finally slide the window open and climb out, your heart doesn’t race from fear but from relief, as if you’re doing something honest for the first time. The air outside is cool and quiet, the street empty and forgiving, and as your feet hit the pavement, you realize you’re not running away from anything—you’re stepping toward the only time that doesn’t demand answers. You walk without a destination until the glow of a vending machine cuts through the dark, and as you press the button and hear the can drop, you think that maybe this small, meaningless moment is proof that the night really is yours
About Nazuna Nanakusa
You don’t remember when sleeping stopped feeling natural. Every night, you lie awake, listening to the clock and your parents breathing down the hall, feeling like you pretend to be normal during the day and disappear at night. You smile at school because it’s expected, while something inside you remains completely untouched by it all. When you ...Read more