EYE OF ECLIPSE: SERENITY
…..
October 2nd, 3027.
9:00 AM.
Far from the towering glass giants and neon veins of Itwatsuki, the outskirts breathed a different kind of life.
Here, the air moved slower.
Open fields stretched wide under a soft morning sky, painted in pale gold and gentle blue.
The distant city shimmered faintly on the horizon, like a separate world entirely.
Small homes rested quietly between patches of greenery, their presence simple… grounded… real.
Among them stood a modest two-storey house.
White walls.
Sloped roof.
A small garden that hadn’t been perfectly maintained—but loved enough to still bloom.
From an open window on the second floor, the sound of birds drifted in—soft chirping, light, almost playful.
Inside that room—
She slept.
Curled slightly beneath a soft blanket, resting peacefully on a neatly kept bed, her silver hair scattered gently across the pillow like threads of moonlight.
Even in sleep, her presence carried something delicate, almost unreal.
Lily Kitagawa.
Age: 18 years, 6 months.
Her closed eyes—hidden beneath soft lashes—held the same pale silver as her hair, a quiet, rare beauty that felt almost out of place in such a simple room.
The morning light slipped through the open window, brushing softly against her face.
She stirred.
A faint shift.
Then slowly… her eyes opened.
For a second, she just stared upward, unfocused, caught somewhere between sleep and waking.
Then her gaze drifted to the side.
Her phone.
She reached out lazily, fingers fumbling just a little before grabbing it and lifting it closer.
The screen lit up.
9:00 AM.
A pause.
“…Mmgh…”
A small, tired groan escaped her as her face sank halfway back into the pillow.
“…too early…”
She turned slightly, pulling the blanket over her head again like a shield against reality.
Silence.
Comfort.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
“…no…”
Another muffled groan.
“I have to get up…”
Reluctantly, Lily pushed the blanket down and sat up, her silver hair falling messily around her shoulders now, slightly tangled from sleep.
She rubbed her eyes gently, blinking a few times as the light settled in.
“…okay… okay…”
She swung her legs off the bed, her feet touching the floor with a soft tap.
Still half-asleep.
Still human.
She stood up slowly and stretched, arms lifting above her head as she let out a quiet yawn, her posture relaxing into the morning.
Then she walked toward the washroom.
The door closed behind her.
Minutes passed.
Water ran.
Steam gathered.
And when she stepped out again—
She looked different.
Awake.
Fresh.
Alive.
Her silver hair now fell smoothly down her back, slightly damp but neatly brushed.
She wore a soft pastel yellow dress, light and floral, flowing gently around her knees.
The fabric moved with her, catching the sunlight in a quiet glow.
Simple.
Beautiful.
Effortless.
She walked back into the room, picking up her phone from the nightstand and holding it loosely in her hand as she made her way toward the door.
She opened it.
Stepped out.
The wooden stairs creaked softly under her light steps as she descended to the first floor, one hand brushing along the railing absentmindedly.
The smell reached her first.
Warm.
Sweet.
Comforting.
“…pancakes?”
Her voice carried a small spark of energy now.
She walked into the kitchen.
And there—
Her mother stood.
Emily Kitagawa.
Near the stove, slightly turned, focused yet relaxed in her movements.
Her brown hair was tied up into a neat bun, a few loose strands framing her face.
Her eyes—silver like Lily’s—held a softer, matured warmth.
She wore a simple home outfit: a light cream blouse with rolled-up sleeves and a soft grey skirt, practical yet elegant in its own quiet way.
An apron rested around her waist, lightly dusted with flour.
One hand flipped a pancake skillfully on the pan.
The other reached toward a kettle nearby.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Emily didn’t turn immediately, but the smile in her voice was clear.
Lily walked in, rubbing the back of her neck slightly.
“Morning, Mama…”
She leaned slightly onto the counter, peeking at the pan.
“You started without me…”
Emily chuckled softly.
“You were still dreaming ten minutes ago.”
Lily puffed her cheeks slightly.
“I wasn’t that late…”
Emily glanced at her now.
“You hid under your blanket again, didn’t you?”
Lily froze for half a second.
“…maybe.”
Emily smiled.
“Go on, help me. Flip this one.”
She stepped aside just slightly, handing over the spatula.
Lily straightened instantly, energy returning like a switch flipped.
“Okay!”
She stepped closer, gripping the spatula carefully and watching the pancake like it was a mission.
“Don’t mess it up,” Emily teased lightly, pouring tea into two cups beside her.
“I won’t!” Lily replied quickly.
“I’m improving!”
She slid the spatula under the pancake… hesitated for a second…
Then flipped it.
Perfect.
She blinked.
“…oh.”
Emily glanced over, amused.
“Well done.”
Lily’s face lit up.
“I did it!”
Emily laughed softly, placing the tea cups onto a tray.
“Careful, don’t get too proud. It’s just a pancake.”
“It’s an achievement,” Lily replied, trying to sound serious—but failing as a smile slipped through.
Moments later, breakfast was ready.
Both of them carried the plates and cups to the dining table nearby—a simple wooden table placed near a wide window that overlooked the open fields outside.
They sat across from each other.
The sunlight streamed in softly, wrapping the space in warmth.
Lily picked up her fork.
“…It smells really good.”
Emily smiled.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
They began.
Quiet bites.
Comfortable silence.
Then—
Lily glanced up slightly.
“Mama… are you busy today?”
Emily took a sip of her tea.
“A little. Why?”
Lily tilted her head.
“Just asking…”
A small pause.
“…maybe I’ll go out later.”
Emily raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Hmm? Anywhere special?”
Lily shrugged lightly, taking another bite.
“Not really… just… outside.”
Emily studied her for a second.
Then nodded.
“Alright. Just be careful.”
Lily smiled softly.
“I will.”
The moment settled.
Simple.
Peaceful.
Unaware.
While far away—
In the heart of the city—
Something far from serenity had already begun to move.
🌑)
The quiet rhythm of breakfast continued for a few more minutes.
Lily took another bite of her pancake, slower this time, savoring it.
The warmth, the sweetness—it felt right.
Comfortable.
Like everything in this house.
Soon enough, her plate was empty.
She leaned back slightly in her chair, stretching her arms just a little.
“I’m done…”
Emily glanced up from her tea, a soft approving nod following.
“Good. Then go water the plants in the garden, will you?”
Lily blinked once.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
She stood up from her chair, picking up her plate and placing it neatly in the sink before turning toward the back door that led outside.
But just as she reached the doorway—
She paused.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
“…Mama?”
Emily looked over from the table.
“Yes?”
“Where’s Dad?”
A small, simple question.
Emily’s expression didn’t change much.
Calm as ever.
“He left early for work today.”
Lily nodded slowly.
“Oh… okay.”
There was nothing unusual in her tone.
No suspicion.
Just acceptance.
With that, she turned again and stepped outside.
The back door opened with a soft creak.
Fresh air greeted her instantly—cool, light, carrying the faint scent of soil and blooming flowers.
The small garden stretched beside the house, bordered by a simple fence and dotted with life.
This was her place.
Her favorite.
Lily stepped onto the grass, her sandals brushing lightly against the earth as she walked deeper into the garden.
Sunlight filtered through gently, touching everything with a soft glow.
Rows of flowers greeted her.
Roses, blooming in soft reds and pinks.
Jasmine, delicate and fragrant.
Lavender swaying faintly in the breeze.
Marigolds glowing like tiny suns.
White lilies—quiet, elegant, almost mirroring her.
And as she walked—
Something subtle happened.
Almost too subtle to notice.
The flowers… moved.
Not with the wind.
Not entirely.
Petals fluttered slightly as she passed.
Stems shifted ever so faintly.
Leaves trembled, as if reacting—not to air… but to her.
Like something alive recognizing her presence.
Welcoming it.
But Lily—
Didn’t notice.
She simply walked forward, humming softly to herself, her steps light, her expression relaxed.
She reached the corner where the watering pot rested.
Bending slightly, she picked it up with both hands.
Empty.
She walked to the tap nearby, turning it on as water began to fill the pot, the sound gentle and steady.
Once filled, she turned back toward the garden.
And began.
She tilted the pot slowly, letting the water stream out in a soft arc.
It landed on the soil first, darkening it, then spread across the roots of the plants.
She moved step by step.
Unhurried.
Careful.
The water touched the leaves, rolled down their surfaces in tiny droplets, catching the sunlight like scattered glass.
Petals shimmered faintly as they absorbed the moisture.
Her humming continued—soft, absent-minded, peaceful.
She crouched slightly near a cluster of jasmine, adjusting the angle so the water reached evenly.
Then moved to the roses, letting the stream fall gently over them.
Each movement was natural.
Familiar.
Alive.
The garden responded.
Leaves seemed to lift slightly under the droplets.
Flowers stood just a little taller.
The faintest tremble passed through them again… like a quiet joy.
Time passed.
Slowly.
Softly.
Until finally—
The pot emptied.
Lily straightened up, exhaling lightly.
“All done…”
She carried the pot back, placing it neatly where it belonged before brushing her hands together lightly.
Then she turned.
Walking back toward the house.
The door stood just a few steps ahead.
She reached the entrance—
And stopped.
Her body stiffened slightly.
From just outside the gate, barely five meters away—
Two dogs.
Loud.
Aggressive.
Barking at each other, circling, teeth bared.
Their growls cut through the calm like jagged edges, sharp and tense.
Lily swallowed.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
She didn’t step back.
Didn’t run.
Even though a small flicker of fear passed through her eyes—
She stayed.
“…hey…”
Her voice was soft.
Careful.
“Don’t fight…”
She took a small breath.
“It’s not good…”
A pause.
“You’ll hurt yourselves…”
Silence followed.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Both dogs froze.
Mid-motion.
Mid-growl.
As if something unseen had pressed pause on the world.
Their heads turned.
Slowly.
Toward Lily.
They looked at her.
Not aggressive.
Not hostile.
Just… still.
Then—
Without another sound—
They stepped back.
Turned away from each other.
And walked off.
Calm.
Quiet.
Gone.
Lily blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“…huh..they can’t understand human language,then how?”
She scratched the side of her head lightly, confusion flickering across her face.
“…maybe they were already done fighting…”
A small shrug followed.
No deeper thought.
No suspicion.
Just… normal.
She turned again.
Opened the door.
And stepped back inside the house—
Leaving the garden behind.
Still.
Silent.
And somehow… aware.
The door closed softly behind Lily as she stepped back inside.
For a moment, she just stood there.
Still.
Her hand resting lightly against the door.
“…that was weird…”
She murmured under her breath, her brows knitting slightly as the image of the two dogs lingered in her mind.
They had just… stopped.
Like someone told them to.
But there was no one.
She blinked, then shook her head lightly.
“…I’m overthinking it.”
With that quiet conclusion, she turned and walked into the living room.
The space was simple and warm—soft-colored walls, a comfortable couch placed near a wide window, sunlight spilling in gently and pooling across the floor like liquid gold.
Lily walked over and dropped onto the couch, pulling her legs up slightly as she reached for her phone.
A small tap.
The screen lit up.
She began scrolling.
Short videos flickered past one after another.
Then—
She paused.
A small, fluffy cat lay stretched under sunlight, its tiny chest rising and falling slowly, completely lost in sleep.
One ear twitched slightly as a breeze passed over it.
Lily’s lips curved instantly.
“…awww…”
A soft giggle escaped her as she tapped the screen, replaying it once more.
“Look at you… just sleeping like that…”
She watched it again, eyes soft, expression warm.
Then she scrolled.
Next—
A vibrant video filled the screen.
A chef, dressed dramatically, plating something elaborate.
“Dragon Sushi,” the caption read.
Lily’s eyes lit up with curiosity.
“…dragon sushi?”
She leaned forward slightly, her attention sharpening.
The video showed careful slicing, unusual ingredients, glowing sauces—something far more advanced than normal cooking.
She watched intently.
Focused.
Absorbing every step.
“…huh… that actually looks good…”
She murmured quietly, almost impressed.
The video ended.
She stared at the screen for a second longer.
Then slowly…
She lowered the phone.
Placed it beside her on the couch.
Her gaze drifted toward the window.
The fields outside swayed gently.
“…even now…”
She spoke softly, almost to herself.
“It’s 3027… but people here…”
A small pause.
“…they’re still the same.”
Her fingers traced lightly along the edge of the couch.
“Just like… a thousand years ago…”
There was no complaint in her voice.
No dissatisfaction.
Just observation.
“…I guess that’s because…”
Her eyes softened slightly.
“In 2029… they passed those laws…”
A faint memory.
A lesson learned long ago.
“…to keep outskirts like this… simple.”
Not futuristic.
Not overbuilt.
Balanced.
“…so cities and off-city areas stay different…”
Trade.
Movement.
Contrast.
A world designed in layers.
Lily leaned back slightly, exhaling.
“…it’s nice though…”
Before she could think further—
Ding Dong.
The doorbell rang.
Sharp.
Clear.
Lily groaned lightly.
“…who is it this early…”
She pushed herself up from the couch, stretching slightly as she stood.
At the same time, Emily’s footsteps approached from the kitchen, drying her hands with a cloth as she walked into the living room.
Both of them moved toward the door.
Lily’s expression shifted slightly.
“…Dad?”
A small hint of expectation.
Emily reached the door first.
Her hand rested on the handle.
She opened it.
And in that instant—
Her face softened.
A gentle smile appeared.
Lily, standing just behind her—
Froze.
Her brows furrowed instantly.
“…huh?”
At the door stood a woman.
Elegant.
Calm.
Familiar—yet not.
The woman’s gaze met emily’s
Not as strangers.
But as people who already knew each other.
Lily blinked.
Confusion flooding her expression.
“…Mama…?”
Her voice was quiet.
Uncertain.
“…who…?”
But the answer didn’t come.
Not yet.
Hanaka Tachibana.
Jin’s mother.
Standing there as if she belonged.
As if this place wasn’t new to her at all.
It wasn’t normal