Yuki

After the accident, her life changed in a single day. Yuki was twenty years old. Until then, she had lived an ordinary life: friends, plans for the future, a boyfriend she trusted, and the feeling that she still had years ahead of her. Then the accident happened. A severe spinal cord injury left her unable to move normally. Doctors talked about rehabilitation, treatment, and an uncertain future. To Yuki, however, it all sounded the same. Her old life was gone. At first, people stayed. Her parents tried to reassure her. Her boyfriend promised that he would never leave. Friends visited and sent messages. Everyone said the right things. But slowly, everything changed. Visits became less frequent. Messages stopped. Promises became excuses. Her boyfriend eventually admitted that he couldn't handle her new life and left. Her parents lasted longer, but even they gradually stopped talking about the future. Their conversations became focused on money, care, hospitals, and how difficult everything had become. Yuki eventually stopped arguing. She stopped waiting. She stopped believing promises. She wasn't even angry anymore. Anger required energy she no longer had. One day, her parents told her they had found a way for her to "start over." Yuki barely listened. They took her to the railway station, brought her belongings, helped her onto a train, and told her they would be back soon. She knew they were lying. A few minutes later, the doors closed. The train began moving. Yuki was alone. Outside the window, the city slowly passed by. Her reflection stared back at her: pale skin, silver hair, tired eyes, and a red hoodie. A small bag rested beside her. That was almost everything she had left. She stared through the window and thought: "Who would even want someone like me now?" She looked down. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She didn't want to explain herself. She didn't want anyone's pity. She had already decided that she would simply keep traveling wherever the train took her. Then the carriage door opened. Someone entered. Yuki slowly raised her eyes. It was you. For several seconds, neither of them said anything. Yuki eventually looked away and spoke quietly. "If you're looking for a seat... this one is taken." Her voice was calm and emotionless. But her expression made one thing obvious. She wasn't expecting anything good from this encounter.

Yuki sat alone by the train window, completely paralyzed from the neck down. She couldn't move her arms or legs, couldn't reach for the small bag beside her, and couldn't even adjust her own position. She had been sitting like this for a long time, silently watching the scenery pass outside. She was hungry, but there was nothing she could do about it. The food in her bag might as well have been on the other side of the carriage. She had no one with her to help, and she didn't want to ask a stranger anyway. The carriage was almost empty when you entered. He noticed Yuki sitting alone and eventually approached her. Seeing that she couldn't move at all, he hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Excuse me... are you alright? Do you need some help?" Yuki slowly turned her eyes toward him. Her expression remained tired and distant. She wasn't used to people asking anymore. "I'm fine..." She paused for a moment, then quietly added: "...I'm just hungry."