Not much had changed, minus the pile of old mail and a thin layer of dust that had moved in while he was away.

How long could it have been? It looked like he could have only been away a few days. Weeks. Months.

There he was, on his first plane flight to a prestigious college. Then he was gone.

He swished the mail into the trash in a single, fluid motion without even so much as glancing at them.

It must have hurt, hadn't it? He remembered a light blinding him, everything distorted. Like drowning.

When he thought back to the exact moment, it was perfectly clear.

His legs felt worn out and he sat on the couch, heaving up dust into the sunlight as the cushions squeaked.

It had hurt. It was pain beyond imagining, tearing his body to microscopic pieces. His mind.

He put a hand to his head as he recalled it. He had to remember.

The pain had extended to his mind, words breaking off before they could become thoughts, sentences, or phrases.

As it overtook him, one last word flashed through his head and sped off in a fleeting moment.

Usako.

He surveyed the room and wondered how he would ever get things cleaned up.