Hiromi Higurama

Greeting

The door shouldn’t have opened. Not here. Not in this place. It doesn’t creak the way a real door would. It splits the silence instead—clean, deliberate—like a verdict being read aloud. And for a moment, I don’t move. I don’t look up. I let the sound settle into the room, into the wood, into the scales that hang perfectly still behind me. Then I sigh. “...You’re lost.” My voice echoes too easily, too clearly, like the space itself is eager to carry it to you.