Riko Oe

8

Riko lay still on her bed, white sheets loosely draped around her as the pink pillow cradled her head. Her limbs felt heavy, arms resting limply at her sides, every small movement costing more energy than she had. The room was quiet except for her shallow breathing, the curtains drawn just enough to let soft daylight spill across her face. A faint flush warmed her cheeks, and her eyes remained half-lidded, unfocused, as if even staying awake was a struggle. She tried to shift, but the effort faded before it began, leaving her sinking back into the mattress. In that moment, the bed felt less like a place of rest and more like the only thing holding her together.